Page 36 of Jacked
“I don’t know.” I shrug again.
He grunts and then drops his arm from behind his head. His hand lands in his lap, and I watch out of the corner of my eye as he casually cups himself through his shorts, spreading his legs a little wider. Molten heat floods my veins and my cock starts to swell without hesitation. We haven’t actually talked about it or tried to justify it since the second time it happened. Now it’s always exactly like this. He starts rubbing his dick or I start rubbing mine, we act like we’re not watching each other even if our eyes meet, and we jerk off like we’re just discovering our cocks for the first time.
AJ drags his thumb over the growing swell of his cock and I track the motion with my eyes. My hands are fisted at my sides, my heart pounding, everything inside of me aching for the simplicity of just doing what we’ve been doing—chasing a quick, easy, hot-as-fuck release with my bro here on the couch. I flick my gaze to his mouth, his parted lips just the slightest bit damp from the swipe of his tongue.
I want to make them even wetter withmytongue. I want to lick into his mouth and feel the vibrations of his muffled moans. My cock throbs and something else inside of me achesin a totally different way. In a needy, desperate way. In a maybe, probably, almost definitely a little gay way.
Bisexual, I correct. And,fuck,it doesn’t feel wrong at all this time.
His hand stills on his cock when he realizes I’m not touching mine. Is it wrong to do this with him if I think I want it to be more? Is wanting to kiss himthistime so different from wanting to kiss him last time? The confusion in my thoughts has my dick flagging even though my balls are still heavy and full.
“I’m actually kind of tired tonight. My trainer might have pushed me too hard at the gym.” I try for a joke, but it feels flat and forced. “I think I’m just going to hop in the shower and then go to bed.” I stand up, ignoring the chubbed swell in my shorts that’s at AJ’s eye level as soon as I do.
Surprise and confusion flicker across his face for half a second before he buries them under a blank mask. Is he upset? Is he hurt?
Jesus, it’s confusing enough trying to sort out all my feelings, I can’t even begin totry and work out his.
“Night,” he murmurs.
I want to turn around and go right back to the couch. I want to sit closer to him and tell him how much I like his stupid laugh. Fuck my life, I think I might have a crush on him. I bite back a groan, mumble my own “Night” and then practically sprint towards the bathroom where I can be alone with my thoughts.
Realizing I’m probably bisexual? Cool, no problem.
Realizing I have a big, sloppy, gay crush on my maybe, possibly,allegedlystraight roommate? That feels valid to have a little panic about. Just a little crisis, as a treat.
Have I said “fuck my life” yet?
AJ
My eyes feel like sandpaper and the twisted, heavy feeling in my gut is just as solid as it was eight hours ago when Slater jumped off the couch unexpectedly and ran away like his ass was on fire. I swallow hard and kick at the sheets tangled around my legs. It has to be something I did to upset him. He was quiet all night, and thenthat. But even after spending the entire night tossing and turning, running through every interaction we’ve had over the last two days, I’ve got fuck all.
Unless…
Memories of the other night in the tent rush right to the front of my mind. The two of us pressed way too close, our hands bumping with every stroke, our cum…
My cock throbs at the thought of getting off, but the anxious, embarrassed, heavy feeling in my gut only intensifies. That was the last time we, you know,did that. I slept in my own tent the next night and by the time we got home the following night, we were both wiped and just ready for bed. Was that over the line somehow? Did it freak him out?
It’s hard to imagineanythingfreaking him out. He always seems so laid-back and unflappable. But maybe? Shit, shit, shit. If that’s it, how do I fix this? How do I put things back exactly the way they were?
The sound of the door opening and closing makes my pulse kick up. I didn’t even hear Slater get up. Is he sneaking out of the apartment to avoid me? Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but a strange panic rises in my chest. I throw my sheets off and jump out of bed. I feel like I need to catch him before he’s gone.
I pause with my hand on my doorknob.
If I catch him, what the fuck am I going to say? I blow out a breath. It’s fine. He lives here, he’ll be back tonight. I don’t know what I’m getting so worked up about. I’ve never even chased a girlfriend around to patch shit up, so why am I suddenly panicking about Slater?
It’ll be fine.
I repeat that to myself several times before I slowly turn the doorknob and swing my door open. I jump back with a startled yelp.
Slater is standing right on the other side with his hand raised to knock.
“Jesus, dude, I thought you left.” I huff out a laugh. “I heard the door.”
He chuckles. It still sounds a little off, but not nearly as tense as last night. He’s not wearing his hat for a change, leaving strands of his blond hair to fall across his forehead.
“I was just coming back from getting breakfast. Egg white omelet loaded with veggies, right?” He gives me a sheepish smile and holds up a paper bag with the logo of my favorite breakfast place on it.
My mouth falls open and I blink in surprise. He remembered my order? We’ve only been there together once. There are three other breakfast places between our apartment and Reggie’s Café. He could have stopped at any of them, but he went all the way there. It’s just breakfast, but the fact that he went out of his way like that has me choked up.
