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“You’re studying particle physics? You found out yet if atoms can be gay? Because…” He gestured at my shirt. “You know, that’s kind of misleading, otherwise.”
This was why I didn’t get laid. This, right here. Well, and the panic attacks. But also this.
“So do the top and bottom quark fuck, or what?” he asked, his tone completely matter-of-fact.
In the aftermath, it was kind of like holding hands, only with a lot of almost-limp cock in the way.
I’d gotten through a long list, starting with his beautiful eyes and ending up somewhere around the manic expression he got on his face when he was talking about lasers, when he finally stirred and looked up at me.
Sebastian buried his face in my chest again, his breath coming in heaves. Did something? Cheated on me, knocked over a liquor store, joined the circus, broke the laws of physics by getting a top quark and a bottom quark to fuck, and now we were all going to die when the universe exploded?
He mumbled something that sounded like, “I viewed a porter.” What the fuck? At least that couldn’t possibly translate as, “I ended the universe as we know it.”
If I could’ve taken a picture at that moment, I’d have framed it, hung it on the wall, and never done anything but jerk off to it for the rest of my life.
“Jesus Christ, Sebastian, I fucking love you and you didn’t make me do anything. Will you please, please either marry me or put me out of my misery?”
