Page 39 of Finance Bros

He sighs heavily, shoulders sagging. “I know.”

It doesn’t matter, though. That’s the truth between us that can’t ever change. “Where’s Kaylin?”.

“I don’t know. Out. At her place.” He shrugs.

“I assumed she lived here.”

“No,” he says.

Did I misread something? “Are you not still together?” I ask.

“We’re close, but we’re on a break.”

On second thought, I don’t want to know about his relationship issues. I don’t even like knowing hehasrelationship issues. Hope isn’t an option here, and I can’t allow it any oxygen. I can’t believe I’m letting myself wonder. Maybe Ididn’tlearn my fucking lesson which is so simple:

I can’t make him be attracted to me.

It’s weird enough that I’m attracted to him. Talk about fucking awkward. Our parents got married when we wereeight. I should think of him like a brother, but I’ve been in awe of Malcolm since I met him. He was taller, cuter, sweeter, and better at everything. I wanted to attach myself to him. I wanted tobehim. Doeverythingwith him.

That explains why—way before I knew I was actually attracted to him—when I got my first boner while we were snuggled up watching a movie one day, I wanted him to touch it with me. Discover it together. I wanted to learn if his body was like mine, if it could feel the things mine felt. Obviously I didn’t ask—I was too shy and embarrassed. Because what if my body was weird or something?

And then, later, when I understood boners and knew I’d fallen for him, I wanted to know what it would feel like to be naked with him while we cuddled with our legs tangled. I wanted to kiss him because, more than anything, I wanted to know he felt the same way.

I wanted to know what I meant to him.

And then, in a way Ineverwanted—I found out.

8

MALCOLM

Something happened last night.

It was an accident. Sort of.

Or I thought it was, but when Ryan peeled off his sweater to show Bailey his bare upper body, I realized something unshakeable about myself.I want to touch him.

In a way, this isn’t anything new. We were very close when we were kids, and for as long as I’ve been with Kaylin, I’ve never felt as close to her as I used to feel with Ryan. He was my favorite place. My favorite person. He was the best and worst thing to ever happen to me.

Last night was a perfect storm. Work was insane this week. Not just dealing with Isla’s cold shoulder or trying to decipher her terrible spreadsheets, but the mental effort I had to put in to stop my mind from wandering had me feeling like a hamster on a wheel—if the hamster was on crack. And the wheel was on fire.

Since Monday night when we started the TikTok project, I keep getting these mental flashes of Ryan at random moments—like of him leaning on the wall with his triceps flexed, his hazel eyes hooded, body positioned for maximum seduction. Andthen there are the daydreams. I’d see the perfect knot of his tie and think about his fingers undoing it at the end of the day. Same thing with his belt buckle. I’ve thought about whether he wears boxers, briefs, or boxer briefs.

I’ve thought about how flat his abs are and whether he’s built enough to have that vee that leads down to his cock.Cum gutters.Fuck, I’ve thought about his cum gutters at least twice a day. And now I’ve seen them. They exist. They’re as real and defined as the rest of him is.

When I found myself daydreaming at work, I stopped myself. I redirected my thoughts to my next TikTok video. I looked online for things Stephanie can wear so I didn’t think about Ryan’s body. But all bets were off last night when I got home from work to an empty apartment and went to jerk off.

It started in the usual way. A hot shower, some long, slow strokes to wake up my dick. A few squeezes of my balls. I don’t typically fantasize when I masturbate. No porn. No spank bank. Just sensation. I have seven flesh lights that are currently in working order. With any one of them and the variety of different sensations they offer, I can get off efficiently with a clear mind.

The one I used last night has a mouth shaped insertion point, ribbing up and down the channel,andvariable suction. I hardly have to do anything. Once it was lubed, I slid inside, braced my hand on the tile wall and thrust gently into the toy.

It felt good. I didn’t need to do what I did, but I also needed to get it over with, or the idea was going to continue plaguing and distracting me for another endless week.

Closing my eyes, I gathered my courage, reminded myself no one had to know, and pictured Ryan untucking his shirt and unbuckling his belt. The idea was to give in to this one fantasy, figuring if I played it out, I’d get repulsed. I’d lose my erection, and that would put the question to rest for good.

Not that I would ever lose an erection in that particularlywell-conceived toy, but I could have puked and that would’ve told me something. Anyway, the fantasy went on once the belt buckle was open. In my imagination, he didn’t open his pants, just put his hand down the front, and took hold of his own cock.

I hissed as my dick throbbed hard in the toy at the image of Ryan’s fist moving behind wool fabric—at the idea of a light sheen of sweat on his lower abs exposed by his now open shirt.

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