Elliot blinks at me for a moment, then bursts out laughing. Not cruel laughter, but the genuine, surprised kind that makes his whole face light up—a rarity in itself. “Oh my God,” he wheezes, adjusting his glasses. “You should see your face rightnow. You look like you asked me to explain quantum physics while naked.”
“This isn’t funny!” I whisper-shout, sliding down in my seat until my chin is practically level with the tabletop.
“It’s not the question that’s funny,” Elliot clarifies, still grinning. “It’s that you nearly had a stroke trying to ask it. Christ, Jackson, we’re adults. You can say the word ‘sex’ without bursting into flames.”
“So?”
“So what’s it like?” He leans back, considering. “Well, in our case, Gerard and I have pretty defined roles.”
My forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Roles?”
Elliot sighs and rolls his eyes. “You’ve seen it. Gerard is hung like a fucking horse. His dick is genuinely too big to fit inside me without causing actual damage. I top, he bottoms. Simple physics.”
My eyes water as I process this information. “He’s too big to…”
“To fuck me, yes. Believe me, we tried. It was like trying to shove a bratwurst through a keyhole.”
His clinical description of their bedroom physics startles a laugh out of me.
“Gerard was disappointed at first, had this whole complex about not being able to top, but as it turns out, he loves getting fucked. Win-win.”
I shift in my seat, deeply aware of my own inexperience. “I know you saw the Ice Queen’s post. About Drew and me not being intimate. We…” I close my eyes and force the lie out of my mouth. “We want to start. Being intimate, that is.”
“I’m not surprised. The two of you scream, ‘We need to fuck already!’ Here’s a question—have you ever experimented with yourself?”
My face burns as I realize what he’s asking me. “I mean, I’ve topped. With girls, obviously. But I’ve never…” I gesture vaguely toward my ass.
“Never fingered your asshole?”
“No,” I squeak.
Elliot shrugs. “Some guys immediately know what they prefer. Others figure it out through trial and error.” He fixes me with that penetrating stare again. “But you’re not going to know anything until you talk to Drew about it.”
I bury my face in my hands. “This is mortifying.”
“This is life,” Elliot corrects. “Sex between guys isn’t some mystical thing. It’s sex. Sometimes it’s mind-blowing, sometimes it’s awkward, sometimes you accidentally knee someone in the balls and have to stop for ice packs.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Gerard’s legs are very long, and I’m very short. Geometry is not always our friend.” He grins at the memory. “But we figured it out because we talked about it. Revolutionary concept, I know.”
Sarah chooses that moment to appear at our table, picking up on my emotional distress from across the building.
“Boys,” she says, pulling up a chair without invitation. “You both look suspiciously serious. Spill.”
“Jackson’s having a gay sex crisis,” Elliot says, because he has no loyalty whatsoever.
“I am not!”
Sarah’s eyes light up. “Oh, this is delicious. Is it about Drew? Of course it is. Did something happen? Did you finally bang?”
“We’re leaving,” I announce, shooting to my feet with enough force that my chair wobbles precariously behind me.
“Jackson wants to know about butt stuff,” Elliot adds helpfully, gathering his laptop.
“Elliot!”
Sarah squeals. “You’re going to let Drew deflower you? That’s so romantic!”
