Joe smirked. “Keep telling yourself that, buddy. But don’t worry, I’m sure there must be someone else on campus who’s willing to spread her legs for you.”
“Fuck off,” I said, flipping him the bird as I grinned. “Trust me, there’s never a shortage of chicks wanting what I’ve got.”
Peter came back and joined us just in time to hear that, which naturally led to him talking smack abouthisdick size. A bunch of bullshit, since we’d all been in the locker room together and he wasn’t packing anything like what I had crammed in my jock—none of them were—but I ignored it just like I was ignoring the… theoffnessof having instinctively tossed that comeback at the guys just now. I mean, yeah, it was true and all, but also no longer relevant.
Although, fuck, did giving up chicks mean giving up the rest, too? Like, not being able to joke around about shit anymore? Wasthatwhat Noah was afraid of losing out on if he looked too gay?
Jesus fuck, it had all felt really fucking straightforward back in our room. Noah wanted something, I gave it to him, he got fucking ecstatic about it, and that was all I fucking needed for shit to be right in the world. Simple. So why did all this ruminating about it make it suddenly seem all next level?
Trying to sort it out was threatening to give me a headache that I had zero patience for.
Hard pass, thanks.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, then turned my back on the lot of them, putting my attention the one place it might actually do some good instead: on the wall.Thatwas what I needed. I did just fine with academic bullshit, thank you very much, but that was because I was organized as fuck and had the self-discipline of a motherfucking machine when I needed it, not because I was the kind of brain trust who got off on all this deep contemplation of confusing masculinity shit, like whether never wanting to touch a girl’s tits again now that I knew how perfectly Noah’s cock fit in my hand should be cause for an existential identity crisis or whatever. But this? Pushing myself with something physical? Oh, hell yeah. This was the perfect way to clear my brain of all the clutter.
I let my eyes trace out a series of holds on the wall ahead of me, the route that the guys had all dubbed The Liquidator due to the sheer volume of sweat, blood, and tears it had collectively cost us over the last few months, and immediately thought of… Noah.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, grinning despite myself. ’Course I was still thinking of him. I always was. Having Noah on my mind 24/7 was a lot like breathing: necessary, natural, and unstoppable. But still, if I hadn’t just been all caught up in contemplating the gay new world I’d woken up in, maybe I just wouldn’t havenoticedthinking about him, you know?
Jesus. It was making my head spin.
“Thinking of doing The Liquidator today?” Peter asked, slinging an arm over my shoulders and making me jump a little.
Shit, I hadn’t even noticed him come over.
I shrugged him off. “Sure, bro.”
Hadn’t really thought that far ahead, actually, but might as well.
“Still can’t believe Noah finally made it to the top last week,” Peter said with a smirk, shaking his head as he stared up at it. “Never thought I’d seethatday.”
What now? I jerked my head around to stare at him. Had he just fuckingscoffed?
“Noah fuckingnailedit,” I reminded him, shoulder bumping him with a little force to remind him that doubting my boy like that wasn’t gonna fly.
Peter jabbed an elbow into my ribs in retaliation but didn’t talk any more shit about Noe, so I let it pass.
Fine, if I wanted to be fair about it—which I wasn’t yet sure if I did, for the record—I could see how Peter might be a little incredulous about Noah’s accomplishment since Noah maybe wasn’t the most athletic guy in the world. I mean, no fucking way was I going to put up with anyone verbalizing that kind of snide bullshit Peter had just pulled about my other half or anything, but it was true that it had taken Noe a try or two… dozen… to finally make The Liquidator his bitch.
That wasn’t fucking scoff-worthy, though. The opposite. Conquering shit that was hard was hella more impressive than breezing through crap that came easy.
And the memory of the glowy, triumphant look Noah had gotten on his face when he’d finally made it to the top of the wall the week before? Not gonna admit it out loud and put my man card at risk or anything, but seeing that had been way more satisfying than any of the epically forgettable fucks I’d racked up over the years.
Speaking of, there were a pair of rack-tastic girls I vaguely recognized from one of my morning lectures eyeing me from the yoga mats off to our left. The ones Peter and Kevin had been hitting up, if I wasn’t mistaken. Pretty sure I’d never fucked either one of them, but the fact that I also had zero interest in even trying was just further proof that I didn’t need to waste time making my brain hurt by trying to analyze all this new shit happening with me and my boy. Noah and sex were hands down my top two favorite things in life, and even if I hadn’t previously put them together in my head like that, they were clearly a perfect fit that left zero room for anything else… and I was one hundred percent okay with that.
Existential crisis averted. Angst unnecessary. End of discussion,period.
Some of the other guys we normally climbed with showed up and started giving each other shit, a few of them asking about Noah and a few more joking about whether or not I was going to make it through the morning without him. And normally, I’d have given as good as I got for that kind of slander, but… well, not gonna lie, they weren’t totally wrong.
I’d gotten spoiled with how much Noah and I got to hang together here at school, and even after getting off with him this morning, Iwasfeeling a little deprived of his company… even if it had kinda been my own doing.
I’d bundled him off to his breakfast thing this morning because I’d had to for his own good, not because I’d wanted to. Well, other than always wanting whatever was best for him, natch. But left to his own devices, my boy was chronically late and his parentals stressed him the fuck out, so the choice between keeping him for myself the way I’d wanted and making sure he got his ass out the door on time hadn’t really been a choice at all. No way would I ever let Noah set himself up for more grief than necessary from his parentals, but fuck if that meant I liked not having him where he belonged right now.
Which, just to be crystal-fucking-clear, was and always would be with me.
“Worried Peter’s gonna show you up?” that Kevin dude from the football team asked, sidling up next to me.
“Fuck no, I’m not worried,” I snapped automatically, glaring even harder at the wall because now my mind was stuck on the picture of Noah suffering through some kind of dressing down, since that was usually how shit with his parentals played out when it had anything whatsoever to do with his schooling. And yeah, school wasn’t his strong suit, but so the fuck what?
