10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

by Emmy Sanders

Step one in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love: Make a new friend. Nailed it.

It’s not that I’ve been stalking Brad. Truly, I haven’t. But I caught sight of him last week in nearly this exact same spot, and…fuck. It’s like I was struck on impact. The guy was smiling while doing burpees, of all things, his eyes bright and his enthusiasm infectious even from across the street. And when he tossed his head back, laughing at something his friend was saying? I had the distinct thought that Christ, I’d give anything to hear him laugh for me like that. This guy I didn’t even know.

He does look like a puppy, if said puppy had the most gorgeous green eyes I’ve ever seen and the sleekly muscled body of a grown-ass man.

Fuck. This man. I barely know him, and I’m already wondering what kind of fence he’d like around his backyard. White picket?

I can’t deny Brad has me more excited about a potential first date than I’ve been in a long damn time.

The smile that crooks his lips has me feeling bubbly.

“Yeah, man. It’s been a while for me, you know? I miss, just, like…touching someone. Holding.” Fu-u-uck. How long would it take to custom-order a ring?

Joey’s chuckle is warm, like melted milk chocolate. It makes me feel warm, too, and my resolve to find Joey’s person strengthens.

Step two in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love: Do a good deed. Heck yeah. I’ll be the best wingman Joey has ever had. Mark my words. By the time I’m through with him, he’ll be head over heels in love.

Brad is smiling at me encouragingly, and it’s all I can do not to kiss him. Not to take his face in my hands and just…kiss him for every goddamn thing I’m worth.

“I like Joey-roo better.” Clearing my throat, I say, “You realize when you call me that, you’re basically calling me a baby kangaroo-roo?” Brad pauses, considering that, before a smile splits his face. “Dude. That’s awesome.”

“He’s like… If niceness were a man,” I say. “His eyes are warm like brownies. And he’s all muscly in a kinda soft way? Like a loaf of challah. Add some chocolate sprinkles on top for his hair, and there you have it.”

You’re my…my Joey-roo.”

Step three in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love: Try something unexpected.

He clears his throat and closes his eyes, attempting to blank his face, but as soon as he opens his eyes again and looks at me, that smile returns.

He flushes with happiness, looking so lovely it physically hurts.

“Bub,” Joey says quietly, the nickname lighting me up inside. It feels like ours. Like something that’s just for him and me.

Joey’s laugh feels like warm caramel on a cool vanilla sundae. Oh. I should definitely add that to his profile. Yeah.

“Joey’s just my dude. My bosom buddy. My baby kangaroo-roo.” “Your…baby kangaroo?” the guy asks, sounding appropriately confused. Brad winces. “Yeah… Maybe don’t call him that. It’s mine.”

“I mean, your everything, man. You give good hugs, and your eyes are warm and always nice. You’re strong, so you could probably carry someone out of danger if need be. And, as I’ve heard from many, many guys tonight, you have a great ass. Which, dude, you do. Even I can admit that.”

“Plus,” Brad goes on, utterly serious, “you make people happy, Joey. You’re calm and patient and genuinely kind. You’re flexible in your thinking, but not so much that you’d compromise your morals. And I’m not sure if you know this, but sometimes you smell like sawdust. Like those happy memories you mentioned from your childhood. I could see that becoming someone else’s happy memory, too, you know? You’re a catch. Inside and out. And someday, you’re going to make the right guy very happy.”

He’s everywhere. In my lungs, my arms, my head.

Family isn’t always given, you know? Sometimes it’s earned. And I think that makes it all the more important. Choosing to love? I don’t think there’s anything greater than that.”

Joey laughs, his cheeks doing that squish thing they do when he’s happy.

“I’ve never seen the point in pretending to be anyone but who I am,” I tell him. “Maybe it’s stupid, not protecting myself. I do get hurt sometimes. But if you spend your life building walls, you might miss out on the people who’d see you for who you are. I don’t want to miss out on that.”

Joey is different. He doesn’t hesitate to give me hugs or a touch to let me know he cares. I’ve never really had that outside of the occasional girlfriend. And maybe it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had one of those, but Joey’s arms around me feel like the best sort of comfort. I could get addicted to it if he let me.

Step four in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love: Accomplish a goal.

What is wrong with me? A bro does not objectify his fellow bro’s ass, no matter their gender.

bro is so clueless lol

“No way. Like this, everyone will know we’re besties. Bros gotta look out for each other’s fannies, dude.” I…have no words.

I...HAVE NO WORDS, EITHER.

Once done, he gives me a beaming smile, and fuck. It feels as if my heart might beat right out of my chest.

You’re perfect, I want to scream at him. You’re killing me. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

“My name looks good on you,” he declares, casual as can be.

I’m not a small guy, but Joey is bigger, and he makes me feel protected. Safe. Which is probably why I like having those arms around me so much, right? Like, really like it. Love it, even. Want it more than anything.

“But… I’ve never wanted to come on a dude before. What if it’s just…I don’t know. Some kind of primal urge? Like, some sort of caveman this is my friend so I’ll mark him as mine thing?”

???

“I think sexuality is a lot more fluid than people assume. And even if you do swing primarily one way, I think there’s always room for the exceptions. The people that just…do it for you. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.

As I head back upstairs, I construct possible conversation starters in my head. Hey, Joey. Turns out I might be a dab queer. Joseph-broseph. Question. Do you like cum play? Asking for a friend. Joey Kangaroo. Can I hop on you? Jesus Christ, I’m screwed.

???????????

Step five in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love: Be brave.

“Hey, Joey?” I say, trying not to let my nerves show. He waits patiently. Always patient. “So, uh, it turns out I really like your face. And, if you’re still amenable, I’d very much like to greet your tonsils with my tongue.”

He’s perfect—perfect—and I’d consume him if I could. I’d take him down my throat, keep a piece of him inside me always.

“I don’t have a perfect answer,” he says. “All I know is I understand cum gutters now because of you, and I’m pretty sure I’d like to test yours out if you’d let me.”

NO FILTER

“Being queer isn’t the part that scares me.” “No?” I ask, throat tight. “What scares you?” “The thought of losing you,” he answers, just about doing me in. “I couldn’t stand to lose you, Joey.”

“I like this, you know,” he says. “You on top of me. Smothering me. Feels good.”

“Oh, shit,” Brad whispers. “There’s Greg again, huh?” I pause, my lips on his neck. “Did you name my dick Greg? As in…gregarious?”

“If there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s him.”

“And you’re feeling okay about everything?” he asks me seriously. “About liking Joey?” “It’s the easiest thing,” I admit, still stuck on that. “I don’t really understand why now, you know? I don’t know why it’s him.

“Just that I’m fairly certain you’re a literal angel, and I’ve never been between a guy’s thighs before, but I’m a little jealous of that empty space between yours.”

He has a smile on his face the entire time we work, and when I point out the nails he’s removing are called brads, he gleefully starts making jokes. “Fuck, that brad was tight. Really had to wiggle my way in.” “Heh. Wanna watch me hammer myself?” “Hello, brad. I’m Brad. Prepare to meet your doom, as there can only be one.” I wonder if he’d prefer a spring or fall wedding.

Joey comes to a stop in front of me. His work-roughened hands bracket my neck, his thumbs stroking over my jaw. He looks at me. Simply looks. “Are you going to kiss me?” I ask, my pulse nearly drowning out my voice. “Was thinking about it,” he mumbles,

“So very definitely queer.”

Like any time I’m in Joey’s arms, I feel safe. Cocooned. Precious, even.