Page 51 of Romance Languages

It had been a weird kind of whiplash. I remembered being in the common room of our frathouse when Greg came out to me, telling me as if he were recounting another wild story of his. But he was serious. At first, I thought it was just a phase. He’d gotten bored hooking up with girls, so he decided to try something new. Yet once he was with Ethan, that was it. They’d been together ever since, and it was like his heterosexuality was something we’d all dreamed up.

“Did you always know you were into guys?”

“On some level, yes. Looking back, there were signs. Little crushes I had as a kid that I made up excuses for. But I considered myself straight.”

“How did you and Ethan get together then?”

“We were in the same law class. My dad made me study pre-law.” Greg rolled his eyes. “Ethan was this uptight straight-A student. He was so annoying. I found this sick joy in getting under his skin because he took shit so seriously, as you saw tonight. One time in class, we were bickering as usual, and I forget what we were talking about, but I whipped out my dick to shut him up.” Greg threw an embarrassed hand over his face and laughed.

“Are you serious? Right in the middle of class?”

“We were in the back row, in my defense. What can I say? I was twenty and stupid. But then Ethan grabbed it and…”

“Right there in class?”

“Only for a few seconds.”

Shit. I had pegged Ethan all wrong. He apparently had a wild side. It reminded me a little of Julian giving me a blow-and-run.

“We met up in the library stacks and continued what we’d started in class. It was the hottest thing. And then we kept hooking up around campus, still finding each other annoying as shit, but that only made things hotter.” Greg looked up at the glass ceiling, a nostalgic glint in his eye. Man, I thought my college days were wild. Greg (and Ethan!) had me beat.

“I wasn’t thinking about whether I was gay or straight. I was just thinking about Ethan and how he made me feel.”

“I think I’m the same. I mean, the physical stuff is amazing, but now I’m thinking about more than that.”

“The physical’s always good. I’m sure if most straight guys were offered free blow jobs from gay guys, they’d be able to get hard and come. We’re simple creatures. But at some point, for some guys, the physical leads into the emotional. That’s how it was with me. It was physical with Ethan at first, until the emotional side crept in. Then it became about more. Things got deeper.” Greg scratched at his face. “Fuck, am I making any sense?”

“You are.”

“Do you feel that way about Julian? Or are you just on a very strong sex high? Basically, are you thinking about Julian with your head…” He pointed to my dick. “Or your heart?” He jammed his fingers against my chest.

“What are you guys doing out here?” Ethan opened the greenhouse door. “We’re ready to continue playing.”

“We are? I thought that was more of a permanent break,” Greg said.

“We can’t stop now! I’m only two answers away from beating Ashley, despite her rule fudging. Nevertheless,I’mpersisting.”

I let out a laugh, low and snickering like I was trying not to get caught by the teacher.

“What’s so funny?” Ethan asked.

Greg glanced at me, prompting me to keep my mouth shut. Was this Ethan really the same Ethan who’d jerked off a guy in the middle of class, and then fooled around in public? Love and sex made people do some crazy shit.

“Were you guys talking about me?” Ethan darted his eyes between us.

Greg hopped off the table, cool as a cucumber, and slid an arm across his husband’s lower back. “We were just saying that you deserve to win and wipe the floor with Ashley. She obviously doesn’t understand the rules of Shock and Awe.”

Ethan rested his head on Greg’s shoulder. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. Let’s go!”

15

JULIAN

Sundays were for grocery shopping and feeble attempts at meal prep. I usually started off the week on track, but by Wednesday, I was tired of what I’d made and would order in. I had a spoiled tongue that craved variety.

Going through the motions of grocery shopping helped me not think about Friday night. How was I going to face Seamus in school on Monday after my drive-by blow job? He had to think I was certifiable, although judging by the way he’d exploded in my mouth, he’d seemed to enjoy himself.

And so had I. I’d thought that blow jobs were only for the enjoyment of the receiver, not the giver. I had to be an exception because I wanted to do it again. I wanted to make Seamus moan, wanted to hear him call me baby. It wasn’t infantilizing when he said it.

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