“Thanks,” I mutter as I inspect the cheap beer. “Where did you steal these from?”
Declan rips off the damp towel and throws it on the floor with the pile of dirty laundry. My gaze lands briefly on his bare ass as he tugs on a pair of tight black briefs. Forcing myself not to look at his naked parts, my eyes catch the rivulets of water dripping slowly down his back instead.
“That idiot at the end of the hall. They left their door unlocked,” he jokes as he cracks open his beer and takes a swig.
“Malcolm?” I ask, fumbling to crack the cap off the beer with the corner of the bedpost.
“Yep,” Declan replies.
“He’s going to kick your ass,” I say, still struggling and nearly splitting the wood off the bed.
“I’d like to see him try.” Declan laughs as he takes my beer and swiftly pops the cap off with ease before handing it back to me.
“Have you seen that guy on the rugby pitch? He could fold you in half, Dec.”
My friend only shrugs.
After living with Declan Barclay for the last three months, I’ve learned that he behaves as if he’s invincible. And I get the itching suspicion that it’s not something he acquired from being rich. I think he gets it from not having a care in the world. Declan isn’t afraid of death or failure or injury.
I don’t think he’s afraid of anything.
It’s just one of the many things I admire about him.
He doesn’t bother getting dressed. Dropping onto his own mattress in just his underwear, he drinks his stolen beer without looking at me.
Living with another man my age for the first time in my life has been very enlightening. The level of comfort Declan has exhibited is new to me. He’s not afraid to undress in my presence. He strolls around our small room with hardly anything on.
It’s almost as if he acts like I’m not even here, and it’s strange how much I like that. There’s never anything uncomfortable or awkward between us.
“I’m bored, Shakespeare,” he says with a groan as he reaches the end of the bottle.
I toss my book on the foot of the bed. “What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know about you, but I need a good shag. It’s Friday night. Let’s go out.”
As he hops up from the bed and starts rifling around in his messy pile of clothes, my stomach clenches. The topic of sex and/or sexual partners hasn’t exactly come up yet. From time to time, Declan has boasted about the girls he hooked up with in secondary school, but he never once asked me about my own experiences.
Which aren’t many.
Or any…at all.
I sit up on the bed and do my best not to appear stiff. Taking a swig of my beer, I watch Declan throw on a wrinkled polo shirt and some loose black trousers that hug his hips and ass. Even with his unkempt appearance, I have no doubt my roommate will succeed in finding a bedroom partner for the evening. He has the good looks and charm to pull it off.
Me, on the other hand…
“You wearing that?” he asks, nodding his head toward my knitted cream-colored pullover.
I glance down at my attire in confusion. “Should I change?”
“You won’t get your dick sucked in that,” he quips as he takes my beer and pulls a swig from the bottle.
“I’ll change,” I say, standing from the bed. The truth is, I don’t quite know what someone wears to get their dick sucked. It’s never been the motivation behind my fashion choices, but maybe it should have been.
After looking through my wardrobe, I find a plain gray T-shirt and a nice pair of denim trousers. Declan lets his gaze rake over my body after I’m dressed before he shrugs and mumbles, “Good enough.”
Then, we’re out the door and on our way to…I don’t even know where. Declan and I have neverbeen outbefore. He sometimes stays out late alone, but in the three months we’ve known each other, even as close as we’ve become, he’s never invited me. Truth be told, I always assumed he thought he was better off alone.
I follow Declan to a pub in town that is lively and crawling with uni students.
