Aaron stood, whipped off his belt, and pushed down his chinos and boxer briefs. Released from the elastic waistband, his erection sprang upward and bounced.
Kneeling on the edge of the couch, he lifted the closer of Emmett’s feet to his face and masturbated as he kissed it, a furious jackhammering motion that evoked pain more than pleasure.
The angle was unworkable. He stood again.
“Bedroom.”
Emmett welcomed the interruption. He followed Aaron in and took off his jeans.
“Lie down.” Aaron knelt on the end of the mattress, knees tucked underneath him like a schoolgirl. Emmett lay back.
His erection returned as they kissed. He reached for Aaron’s, but Aaron pushed his hand away. “I prefer to do it myself.”
“O-okay.”
Aaron began to lift up Emmett’s shirt.
This time it was Emmett who objected.
“Leave it.”
After he was finished, Aaron shuffled off to the bathroom to clean off, underwear still looped around his ankles.
Emmett, already fully dressed, pulled his phone from his pocket. He was itching to check Instagram. That afternoon, he’d posted a reel of himself jogging and pumping free weights set to Britney Spears’s “WorkBitch.” He’d recently surpassed five thousand followers, a number so unbelievable he found himself needing to check it throughout the day, as if to make sure it was real.
Fifty more likes and several new comments. Followers: 5,236.
His stomach dropped. Fourteen people had unfollowed him.
Was it the video? The song? Did he seem too self-obsessed? Was he posting too often? Were people upset that he’d liked their comment without responding? There were so many now that he could barely keep up.
Do it anyway.His followers had to know how much he lived for them—his Truepers, as he’d started calling them. They had to know that it was their support that kept him going. When he felt bloated and disgusting or the odd troll tore him down, their congratulations, praise, even their thinly veiled envy built him up again, filling him with a confidence that might last for minutes, even hours at a time.
A moment later Aaron returned to the room.
“You’re so hot,” he said, kissing his lips.
And Emmett, lowering his eyes to the screen, drinking in his followers’ attention like a tonic, believed it.
CHAPTER 25
To celebrate Lizette’s thirtieth birthday, her family took her and Emmett to SeaWorld. He had good memories of going there with his dad when he was a kid, but not since he was seventeen and a ride operator at the new manta ray–themed roller coaster looked him up and down and said, “We’re probably not gonna get you on this.” In fact they did get him on, by smashing the restraints down over his chest and stomach, but the experience was so humiliating, and the ride so physically painful, that he’d never tried it again.
These days Emmett would have no trouble, but out of respect for Lizette, who didn’t stand a chance, he walked the park with her while her family and Armando stood in line. They bought soft pretzels and explored Wild Arctic, observing the belugas and harbor seals. Emmett stood entranced before the walrus exhibit, in awe of the unselfconscious poise with which they maneuvered their exquisite fatness through the water: pushing off the glacial rockwork with a showy ripple, flattening their blubber against the acrylic as if to make their bodies all the easier to admire. Emmett envied them. Over one hundred pounds down from his starting weight, his own return to the water still felt a long way off.
In the hubbub of the crowded park, he didn’t notice his phone buzzing. By the time he checked it, he had several missed calls and texts from Aaron.
Just got to Humphreys. Are you here yet?
Got our tickets. I’m by will call when you get here.
ETA? Don’t want to be late…
Where are you? The show’s already started
Seriously where TF are you? Are you ghosting me???
What was Aaron talking about? He had mentioned he and a friend were going to see some comedian at Humphreys by the Bay, but there’d been no discussion of Emmett coming along.
