"Sure you do. You just did it with me."
"That's different," I say again, but weaker.
"Practice with me, then. Pretend it's just us talking. Me asking questions because I actually want to know."
I look at him, really look. Post-practice flush on his cheeks. Earnest expression. Hands still warm on my shoulders like that's a normal thing to do. Like, straight, or figuring things out, guys just casually touch their gay tutors during panic attacks.
He's going to realize he's touching you and freak out.
But he doesn't. Just stands there, patient, while my brain sorts itself out. His hands running up and down my arms, he squeezes slightly on my shoulders with each pass.
"Fine." I straighten, trying to ignore how his hands slip away. "But if I freeze again?—"
"Then we talk about angels. Or football. Or whatever." He walks back to his seat and drops down, grinning. "I'm not going anywhere."
And fuck if my chest does a thing. I ignore it.
I make it through the presentation. Not perfectly, I stumble twice and have to backtrack, but I finish. Gavin asks questions that actually make sense, forcing me to expand on points and clarify things. By the end, I'm almost enjoying it.
"See?" He's beaming like I just cured cancer. "Knew you had it in you."
"One practice session doesn't mean?—"
"We'll do more. Many as you need." He starts packing up, muscles shifting under that stupid, tiny tank top. "Same time Thursday?"
"I... yes. Okay."
"Cool. I gotta shower before our frat meeting, but this was good." He pauses at the end of the row. "Hey, bring your actual presentation Thursday. I want to see the slides."
"Why?"
"Cause I'm betting they're color-coded and gorgeous. You seem like the type."
He's not wrong. They're absolutely color-coded. "That's presumptuous."
"That's a yes." He winks, actually winks, and heads for the exit. "Later, Doc!"
I hate that nickname. Except apparently I don't when he says it.
The auditorium feels even bigger once he's gone. I sit on the edge of the stage, trying to process what just happened. He touched me. Multiple times. Intentionally. And didn't act weird about it after.
He was just being nice. Helping the anxious gay man who can't handle public speaking.
But the way he looked at me...
You're projecting. He's straight. He's doing this ridiculous tutoring thing to understand his friend better or whatever… he said he's not sure what he is.
My phone buzzes with an unknown number.
Unknown
This is Gavin btw. I’m assuming you didn’t save it after coffee ;)
I stare at the text.Crap, how could he possibly know that?I quickly save his name.
Me
Hello Gavin, of course I saved it.
