Page 6 of The Hookup Situation

He raises an eyebrow at me and I groan. “Fine.”

I head down the hall to the shower and decide I might as well jerk off while I’m in there. Coffee Shop Guy is front and center in my mind as I stroke myself. “Oh, fuck,” I gasp, my cock leaking precum like crazy as I picture him on his knees, taking me down his throat, his slender fingers gripping my hips and ass, raven hair soaking wet and plastered to his head, his cock bobbing as he moans around my shaft.

“Shit!” I cry out, and spray all over the shower wall. My chest is heaving, my breaths coming in harsh pants. Fuck, that was amazing. I take a second to breathe before I wash off as quickly as I can and step out, wrapping a towel around my waist and padding back down the hall.

When I get to my room, Chris has two different outfits sitting on the bed. I don’t bother asking him to leave or turn around before I drop my towel and slide into my boxer briefs. He’s seen me naked a million times since I’ve never been shy about my body and am too lazy to close the door when I change.

“Christ,” he murmurs.

“Those my options?” I say, running my fingers through my damp hair.

He glances at me. “Yeah, just depends on what you’re going for.”

“Are those even mine?” I ask, because I don’t recognize them.

“No, they’re mine, because your closet consists of nothing but track pants and shirts with holes and stains.”

I shrug. “They’re comfortable.”

“Well, you can’t show up looking like you went three rounds with a grizzly bear or had a fight with a ketchup packet and lost.”

“I’ve gone out like that before,” I huff, arms crossed over my chest. “The girls I’ve fucked don’t seem to mind.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“Do you want my help or not?” he says, and I sigh and nod. He points to the dark wash jeans, white button up shirtand leather jacket. “That if you’re looking more to be in the background observing but still looking like a respectable member of society, and that,” he points to the see through floral lace short sleeved shirt, “if you want to get some attention.” It’s hard to tell, because his skin is so dark, but I’m pretty sure he’s flushing when he adds, “the see through one would show off your tats nicely.”

“Yeah?” I say, and he nods. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think this time I want to just be observing.”

He nods. “Let me know when you’re ready to do something with your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” I ask, and he just chuckles and shakes his head as he heads out of the room.

I groan. Jesus, is being gay going to be this much work all the time? Because I don’t know if I can do it.

I slide into the jeans and shirt. They’re both ridiculously tight, but I have to admit the pants make my ass look amazing and the shirt does a great job of showing off my swimmer’s build. Chris drags me to the bathroom after I’ve gotten my socks and shoes on and runs some styling gel through my hair. It does make it look a bit more put together and it smells good so I can’t complain.

I slide on the leather jacket and realize how much it makes my blue eyes stand out. Damn, I look good.

“Thanks,” I tell Chris, clapping him on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

He nods and we head out the door.

Being at a queer club when you’re actually there out of curiosity and not just as a wingman for your best friend is a very differentexperience. My eyes are perusing from the moment we walk in the door, greeted by the scent of alcohol and lemon. The music is upbeat and lively and there is a swarm of sweaty half naked bodies on the dance floor. I might be brave enough to dance at some point, but right now I just want to sit back and see what, or who, tickles my fancy.

Chris and I find a booth in the corner after grabbing drinks. I’m only a few sips into mine, my gaze flitting from one guy to the next, trying to take it all in, when I see my guy. He’s on the dance floor with the same guy and girl he was with at the coffee shop, his arms up and his hips swaying seductively. Fuck, I almost swallow my tongue at the sight of him. He looks just as sexy as he did the first time I laid eyes on him, and my cock is thickening in my pants in an instant. Shit. What is it about him? Maybe it’s the way he moves, maybe it’s the fact that he stands out in this crowd with all that jewelry and jet black hair. Maybe it’s the rockstar look that’s got me all hot and bothered. I don’t know, but I find myself holding back a whimper as I stare at him. He smiles as he runs his hands along his chest and then raises his arms above his head again.

“Hey,” Chris says, “I’m gonna go dance, you coming?”

“Uh, no, I’m good,” I say, and he leaves me staring at Coffee Shop Guy. He’s dressed in a silver vest and black pants and sweat beads his forehead as he moves sinuously, doing things with his body that have my dick pressing hard against my zipper.

I watch as he slows his movements and says something to the short dude with the curly hair dancing next to him. His friend halts his movement and looks towards the bar. When I see that the short dude is walking away and that the pretty girl he came with is busy dancing up on another girl, I think this is my chance to go over there and say something. But I can’t fucking do it. He’s so pretty, and I have no idea what I would say, so I just stare at him some more like a fucking creeper.

I take another sip of my drink, thinking maybe some liquid courage will help. Then another, and another. I have no idea where Chris is. I can’t see him through the crowd, and I really wish he were here to help me figure out how to approach Coffee Shop Guy.

By the time I’ve decided to risk making an idiot out of myself I’ve lost sight of him, and the next thing I know I see him racing towards the exit with his friends.

Well, fuck.

THREE

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