“I am attracted to you!” Greg purses his lips almost as if he didn’t mean to say it so swiftly and with such enthusiasm. Like he’s afraid he’ll blurt out even more if he gives his mouth the chance.
“Well,” Julien says, a newfound confidence blossoming inside him. “In that case, we could just try.” He hears the pleading in his own voice. He needs this.
“Tryingis the problem with me.Tryingdoes not equal doing, and then my partner ends up unsatisfied.” Greg’s arms are folded again.
Julien wants those arms to fold him—in half, in a pretzel, however Greg wants him. “There are plenty of ways to enjoy yourself and be satisfied without being hard.”
“I don’t bottom.” Greg sounds wary, uncertain. “And not because I’m one of those douches who thinks it’s unmanly or whatever. My anxiety doesn’t allow me to relax enough to enjoy it. It’s uncomfortable for me.”
“That’s fine. I prefer to bottom anyway,” Julien says in earnest, feeling his vulnerability bobbing up to the surface. “I was talking more about toys.”
“Toys?” Greg asks, eyes snapping back, curiosity piqued again.
“Toys,”Julien purrs. “I...have a lot of them.”
“How many isa lot?” Greg asks, sounding interested yet his knitted brows display hesitancy.
Julien treads lightly. “I’ll show you. If we do this, that is.” His cock stirs as he thinks of all theshowinghe wants to do with Greg Harlow. Then he remembers that they have more housekeeping to attend to. “Ifwe do this, I have some hard boundaries regarding your hygiene.”
“I’m very clean,” Greg is quick to offer, hand floating up to his chest.
Julien’s in the habit of inspecting people’s fingernails. It’s a thing he’s done ever since he was little. Nail cleanliness says a lot about how well a person prioritizes their overall self-care. Greg’s, even now, are trimmed and pristine. “I don’t doubt that, but my mind can run away from me if given the chance. To reduce that, I’d need you to shower before. At my place. Shower there before we—”
“I get it.” Greg gives that right-sided smirk. “I’ll shower wherever, whenever.”
“Okay, Shakira.” Julien lets out a light laugh before sobering. “Oh, and this one is a biggie. No kissing.”
“No kissing?” Greg’s voice pitches up half an octave.
“I know it’s not ideal but...”
“No,” Greg says sharply. Julien sags, thinking his whole sexy plot is being shot down again, but then Greg adds, “Not ‘no’ as in I don’t want to. ‘No’ as in I respect that and can do without it. You don’t have to explain yourself.”
Relief spreads through Julien. Nobody has ever said that to him before and meant it. But the force behind Greg’s words assures him that he does. That he’s different. “Thanks. I’d also prefer if this were an exclusive sexual arrangement. I can be amenable. We can work out an STI testing plan that puts us both at ease if that would work better for you.”
“Exclusive works just fine for me.” As he says this, Greg’s smile, for once, takes up both sides of his face.
Twelve
GREG
Asex pact.
That’s what Julien had called it when he asked Greg if he trusted him (he did) and if Greg had plans the following weekend (he didn’t).
So after another week of middling happy hours and late shifts, Greg arrives at Julien’s apartment with a box of SnoBalls, which Julien brings into the kitchen and leaves there on the counter unopened. The only snack he’s interested in, clearly, is Greg. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Water would be great,” Greg says, his throat suddenly dry with nerves.
Julien is wearing this silken maroon robe with white diamonds patterned across it, no shoes, and there’s a milky V of exposed chest where the panels of the robe don’t overlap. His hair is pushed off his face yet damp at the ends from having just showered.
Greg is undeniably excited, but he’s learned the hard way that words are cheap. Just because Julien says he won’t be disappointed if Greg can’t perform, that doesn’t mean he won’t be.
He looks around to get the lay of the land. Julien’s place is tidily put together—lots of clean lines and muted colors. One wall is dedicated to his paint-and-sip creations. The place smells like cleaning agents, so Julien must’ve spruced up before Greg arrived.
Julien gets both of them glasses of water before leading Greg down the hall to the bedroom, which has all the same aesthetic hallmarks. Tan walls. Cream carpet. Matching bedspread.
On top of a dresser, a plethora of colorful toys is laid out by size on an unrolled towel. Greg is not a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s not well-versed when it comes to sex toys. Some might even call him vanilla. But he’s likely only vanilla because he’s never had the opportunity to try many other flavors.
