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“No, you don’t.” His half smile grows to a smirk. “You’re too young to be a Tom.” “I’m twenty.” “You’ve got a babyface. Tommy suits you. Like Tommy from Rugrats.”
Back then, I thought he looked like a soccer God, chiseled from marble and brought to life for the sole purpose of being the best. Now, the only thing that’s changed is four years and some hair on his chest.
“Ugh, God!” the girl with the headband laughs, shoving Rowan back a step. “You smell like man sweat!” It’s true. He’s glistening with sweat from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, but where this girl pushes him away, all I want to do it glide my hand up his slick spine and kiss him someplace I know I shouldn’t.
“Let’s see. Don’t be a chump, don’t be late, don’t be sick, and don’t be a quitter. The Rowan Hughes guide to success.” He smiles. “Exactly.”
The brown hair on Tommy’s thigh is so light it’s nearly blond. The skin above the tan line is white as cream. I press my fingers in and feel how supple and strong he is.
“Relax,” he murmurs, then runs the tip of his tongue along his lips. “It doesn’t have to be gay.”
“That’s it, baby boy,” Rowan murmurs. How can this not be gay?
I lose the humor, and now I’m just thinking. “What makes you think I’ve got a little softie inside me?” I ask. “And don’t make a dick joke.” Tommy snorts and laughs some more. A real laugh. The sort that should embarrass him if it weren’t so cute. When he settles down, he answers, “I think everyone does. Some people just hide theirs better.”
A gentle, needy straight guy… My dick is already half hard under the tray in my lap. I’m doomed.
Watching him lift his shirt up to clear the sweat from his face, I realize what a tragedy it is that he should have to lose an ounce of weight. Not sure I’ve ever seen a more perfect body.
Doing my best impression of someone who is not freaking out, I say, “I’m cool.”
mood
If he’s trying to convince me gays are just like everyone else, I already know that. I’m not a bigot. The only person I can’t accept is myself.
There’s a rumor going around among the girls that he’s gay, but I just think he’s autistic or something.”
I stab my plastic spoon into my Blizzard, prepping for a monster bite. “Thanks, gay boy. Or, bi boy? Gay boy has a better ring to it.” Tommy snorts, full lips glistening with a sheen of ice cream residue from the milkshake he’s been sipping on. “Kinda like baby boy the best.”
I love doing gay shit with Rowan more than I ever liked having straight sex.
As Lady Gaga sang, I was born this way. Shit, I really am gay.
“I would come here a lot when I was depressed. Always kinda cheered me up.” Rowan looks sideways at me. “You get depressed, baby boy?” I shrug one shoulder, trying not to blush under Rowan’s uncharacteristically soft stare. “Sometimes. Everyone does, right? Sometimes?”
He doesn’t nod or say anything in agreement, but he walks close enough that his arm brushes mine, and he says, “Don’t be depressed,” like it’s that simple. I crack a small smile. “Don’t be depressed. Another Rowan Hughes rule for success?” “Nah. Just, a favor? As a friend?”
“I’ll try, but it’s not really something I can control.” “Well, you can talk to me if you want,” he says, eyes on the path ahead of us. “I got you.”
I turn on my side and press my body back against Rowan’s, where it belongs. “You’re so hot,” I murmur before colliding my mouth against his. A chuckle rumbles from Rowan’s mouth into mine. “Thanks, gay boy.” “How did I know you were going to say that?” “‘Cause you’re my gay boy.”
“Do you mind I’m uncut?” “No.” In a gentle grip, I make his foreskin move over his crown and back down. “I like it, actually. It’s like I’m playing peek-a-boo with your boner.”
“Thank you for coming here with me.” “I’ll do anything for you.” He says it so casually, while swiping two fries into a porcelain dish of ranch dressing, but my heart hears it loud and clear. “I might be a little bitch about it first, but I’ll eventually do it.”
“I’ve been thinking about Pavloving your dick.” “S’cuse me?” My face reddens as my eyes widen. “Like anytime I’m wearing a particular color, or if I do a particular action or say a particular phrase, your dick is trained to get hard instantly, and you’re possessed by the sudden uncontrollable need to fuck me. What do you think?”
HELLO?
Wrestling boyfriend? I didn’t know there were gays on the wrestling team, although there are a lot of "wrestlers" in the gay porn I watch.
“Tommy?” he quietly asks. “Yeah?” “I’m gay.” Not wanting to make a huge deal about it, I just smile and say, “I know.” “I know you know,” he says, his mouth forming a rare pout, “but I never told anyone before.”
