Page 81 of Romance Languages

We lay there in silence. Time didn’t exist. Finally, Julian got up and swiped a robe hanging on the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Putting on a robe?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m probably going to shower.”

The thought popped up in my head of soaping him down, which caused my dick to spike up, already ready and willing for round two. He gave off strongI want to shower alonevibes. Showering was something you couldn’t do in the dark. Baby steps, I told myself.

I should’ve been taking baby steps, too. A month ago, I was ardently heterosexual with a smidge of bicuriousness. Now I was clamoring to take a shower with my friend whose ass I’d just eaten like it was a grocery store sheet cake.

“You don’t need a robe to go into the bathroom.” I bit my lip, hoping for a show. “Drop it. Let me see that fine-ass body.”

“You really want to see it?” he asked, confused and intrigued.

I made my eyebrows do a double raise.

“Before we have to go back to clothes.”

“Seamus, have you ever thought about living in a nudist colony?”

“Only old people go to those. You’re stalling, Jules.” I pointed a finger down.Drop the robe.

Julian clenched his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and released the robe from his hands.

There, in the yellow glow of the candle, was one beautiful man.

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

I nodded in delight, my eyes refusing to blink. Those shoulders, the pouch of his stomach, his thick legs. All day long, we were bombarded with guys with six-packs and not an ounce of fat. What a pleasure to get to see a real body. How lucky was I?

I whistled at him like I was a construction worker.

Julian waved off my catcall and waltzed into the bathroom, no robe needed.

* * *

After we cleaned ourselves up,showered, and dressed, we collapsed on the couch with a bag of microwave popcorn andFrasierreruns. I had trouble focusing on the Crane brothers; all I could think about was wanting to tell Jules that I was really into him, that I might be falling in love with him. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I was too scared to pull the trigger.

Julian rested his head on my shoulder. I stroked my fingers up and down his forearm. We were natural, comfortable.

When the episode ended, a message popped up on screen asking if we were still watching.

“Rude,” I said. “Why do streaming services need to be passive-aggressive like this?”

“If we didn’t want to keep watching, we’d shut it off.”

“What time is it?”

I checked my phone and couldn’t believe it was past ten. Even though I had to be at school early every morning, it didn’t stop me from going to bed around midnight. Somehow, being a working adult had trained me to survive on less sleep.

“It’s late,” Julian said.

Was that my cue or was he merely stating a fact?

“I should get going.” I clapped my hands on my knees, the universal signal that the party was over and I had to get my ass off the couch.

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