Farzan smiled, leaned up to kiss David once, twice, then let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the bed.
After—when they’d both cleaned up a bit—they lay atop the covers of David’s bed, cuddling, Farzan trailing soft kisses along David’s shoulder. He had to be at work in a little over an hour, and he needed a shower, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His skin still buzzed, and his dick still tingled from the mother of all orgasms.
David had had a lot of good sex in his lifetime. Plenty of mediocre sex, too, and even a few bad experiences—not traumatic bad, just unskilled bad—but nothing like this.
Not the kind of sex that set his soul free of his body.
He ran his fingers up and down Farzan’s scalp. Farzan had a longer drive to work, plus he’d probably need to swing by his apartment for a change of clothes. But he didn’t want Farzan to leave yet, either.
“Hey,” David said softly.
“Hey.”
“That was really good, huh?”
“Really good. A-plus stress relief.”
David winced. He hadn’t fucked Farzan to de-stress him. He’d fucked him because…
Well, because he’d wanted to since the first time he laid eyes on him at Aspire.
But stress relief was all this could be. He still had a pile of note cards waiting for him in the living room. A Saturday service, with a private party in the back room, waiting for him at work.
A life just about to finally, finally start.
“I talked to a friend the other day,” he found himself saying. He hadn’t told anyone about Rhett’s offer: not his parents, not Jeri, not even Ayeshaback in Chicago. But Farzan was a neutral outsider, he told himself. He felt safe to talk to about it. “He basically offered me a job.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You know Shyla Thorne? She wonTop Chef?”
“Uh-huh.”
“She’s opening a restaurant in LA. My friend’s gonna manage it.” David shivered as Farzan’s fingers gently twined through his twists. “He asked me to come be their wine director.”
“Oh.” Farzan’s voice was soft. “Wow. That’s amazing.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m happy for you.” Farzan turned to smile at David. “You must be excited.”
“Yeah,” David said, but he didn’t feel excited. He felt… annoyed. He tried to keep it out of his voice, making sure he didn’t scrunch up his eyebrows, but damn.
He knew this thing with Farzan was casual and time-limited, but still, after a fuck like that, Farzan could’ve at least acted a little sad to be missing out on all this quality dick.
And more than that, missing out on their blossoming friendship. David couldn’t remember the last time he’d had as much fun as at the kickball game. But then, Farzan had other friends. A community. He wouldn’t be lonely when David left.
David prayed for a little post-nut clarity, instead of whatever post-nut funk had descended on him instead.
They were friends. Just friends. Friends with benefits, yes, but still, he didn’t have a claim on Farzan, and Farzan didn’t have a claim on him. And all this cuddling was just muddying the waters. He needed to get moving before he did something truly foolish, like suggest a second round.
David groaned but disentangled himself. “Shit, it’s almost two. I’d better start getting ready for work.”
“Me too.” Farzan pulled on his discarded raglan, then glanced around the bedroom, brows drawn. “Oh, they’re in the bathroom.”
David chuckled. “Your shorts?”
“Yeah.”
