Page 44 of Hot Doggin'
“Not according to your shirt,” I accuse. It reads, ‘let’s talk about BALLS’.
“Shit, this?” He looks down at his shirt. “Riggs got me this when I completed the Warrior’s Walk. I love this shirt.”
“Fine. We’ll be there. What time?”
“Seven.”
“Great. Are you sticking around?” Because I’ve got shit to do in the bedroom that doesn’t involve an audience.
“Might as well. Brandt is visiting his mother. He won’t be home for hours.”
“Fuck. Me.”
“Why didn’t you join him,” Stiles asks, taking a seat on the couch beside him.
“I visited last time. Once a year is enough for me.” He shoots me another once-over. “You sure about your hair? We could get it looking right and tight before we go out tonight.”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, go put some pants on. Stiles don’t wanna see your junk and neither do I.”
Stilesvery muchwants to see my junk! And if you get the fuck out, I can show it to him.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
STILES
“Why isthis place always packed on the night we’re supposed to sing?”
Mac’s grumpy observation makes me laugh. “Karma.”
The only reason he’s in a pissy mood is because West interrupted us, and he didn’t get his blow job. It was a disappointment to me as well. I finally worked up the nerve only to be cockblocked by a Bitch. Go figure.
“What do you want to sing?”
“Nothing?”
Brandt already put his request in to sing
“Great Balls of Fire” because, of course, he had. It was featured in Top Gun. He was obsessed with that movie.
“Fine, I’ll choose.” Running down the song list, I choose a classic that I know for a fact Mac loves. I’ve heard him sing it in the shower before. I fill out the song sheet and hand the request to the DJ. When I return to the table, it’s piled with greasy wings and the potato skins we ordered.
Mac’s gaze rests heavily on me, and every time I meet it, he blushes bright like his hair. Obviously, his mind is stuck on onething. It’s all he can think about when he looks at me. His focus keeps my dick half-filled and every time I have to shift to find a comfortable position, I swear he knows what I’m doing and why.
In fact, I feel like everybody knows. Even though they have no clue. Like there’s a neon sign over my head that says ‘straight guy falling for his best friend’.
Maybe… Maybe I’m not so straight after all. West likes to joke around that there’s a little bit of gay inside every straight man, and I used to think it was bullshit. But now, maybe there’s some truth in that. Maybe it just takes the right guy to make you feel something. I'm sure it’s different for everyone, a different journey, but no matter what path you take to get there, in the end, we all end up at the same destination. Coming to terms with our sexuality.
It’s an eye-opening revelation that I’m still becoming comfortable with, and maybe I’m not really all that shocked that I fell for Mac. It’s always been there, my awareness of him, my appreciation of him, physically, and the way we connect. How he makes everything inside of me ease.
Mac is my person. Who knows why there are certain people we connect with on a soul-deep level. But Mac is that person for me. The fact that he happens to be a guy really shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t. What does matter is that he’s trying to sell me some load of horseshit that we’re still just friends and that nothing we’re doing will change that.
That’s not the Mac I know. I see what the string of failed relationships and one-night stands does to him. He’s lonely. Feels disconnected. Mac is the kind of guy that needs love. He’s hungry for it. Does he not want that from me? Because I think… I think I could give it to him. He’s the easiest person in the world to fall in love with. The hard part is in admitting it to the rest of the world.
What does that make me? Am I gay? Bisexual? Pansexual? Does it matter? Do I even have the right to call myself queer? I’ve known men who have struggled with being ostracized for years because of their sexuality, and here I am, falling for a guy seemingly overnight. Is it a slap in their faces?
