“But I want to. Brendon is a really sweet guy and I think you’d like him. Here, look at his picture.” Mike pulled out his phone and spent a few seconds browsing his albums, turning the screen around to show John a picture of what was unquestionably a twink. He was a classically handsome and lithely muscular twink, sure, but still a twink.
John wasn’t interested.
“He’s not really my type. I like them… a little bigger.”
“Like taller or more muscular?” Mike was frowning, looking honestly disappointed. He put the phone away and dug his keys out of his pockets.
“Both, I guess,” John said, blushing.
“Okay, that’s cool I guess.” Mike shrugged. “We all like what we like.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, have fun at the club. You can tell me all about it tomorrow after work. You’re still coming bowling with us, right?”
John nodded, relieved at the change of subject. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Good.” Mike smiled wide.
The two of them said goodbye and headed into their respective cars, and John took a second to adjust his bulge before turning the key in the ignition. It was always awkward when you were attracted to your straight friends, but it wasn’t too bad. John didn’t have a crush on Mike, so the occasional bout of lust was easy to ignore within the larger context of their friendship.
He wondered if he’d been too hasty in saying no to being set up with Mike’s friend. Brendan wasn’t what he typically went for—John liked his men to be both taller and more muscular than himself—but he was cute.
Maybe it was time to stop being so picky?
John dismissed that idea as soon as it popped into his head. He was still young, and he wasn’t giving up on the idea of finding a man he both liked and was attracted to.
He drove home.
***
Later that night John was standing in front of his mirror, looking at his reflection with a critical eye and wondering if he was even remotely on the right track. He was wearing his nicest black pants, his favorite boots, and a dark green t-shirt that clung to pecs and shoulders in a way that his mother would call indecent, but he had no idea if he was too dressed up or not enough.
Should he just go shirtless? Removing the clingy sweater, John studies himself again. The pants were cut low, showing off the sharp V of his Adonis belt, a light dusting of hair leading from his navel and down into his pants like a roadmap to his cock.
It was too much. Putting the sweater back on, John made up his mind to stop fussing and just get going. He was already late, anyway, and Cory wasn’t exactly the patient kind.
He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and requested a Lyft, and he was just heading toward the door leading out of his apartment when his phone beeped with an incoming message. It was from Cory.
Can’t make it tonight, sorry. Got called in for an extra night shift. So sorry! Will make it up to you!
John came to a stop in his outer hallway, torn between annoyance and relief. He hadn’t really wanted to go clubbing, but he’d just spent an hour choosing his outfit and his ride was literally two minutes away. He texted back.
That’s okay. Have a good night at the ER.
Right after he pressed send he got a text saying that his Lyft had arrived. Hesitating for just a second, John said fuck it and grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He jogged down the stairs to the ground floor and made his way out to the curb where the blue Toyota was waiting.
“John?” the driver asked through the partially rolled down window.
“That’s me,” John said, getting into the back seat. He put on his seatbelt as they pulled away from the curb, checking the address he’d entered into his phone just to make sure it was the right one.
It was.
Did he really want to go to a gay club? John’s thumb hovered over the screen, ready to change the destination with just a click. It would be so easy to just meet up with the guys at the bar instead of going out by himself.
He didn’t change the address. He’d been in the mindset that he was going clubbing all day, and his balls wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t at leasttryto get some action.
Six months without getting laid was way,waytoo long.
