A blaring alarm pulls me from the dream with a start. I grab my phone and turn it off, then let out a long breath.
That was weird, even for me.
I haven’t dreamed about Sporty Spice in years.
It’s almost noon, and I have my tattoo consultation with Stone. I shouldn’t be so tired, but that will happen when I stay up until six in the morning running test shots, obsessed with getting just the right motion for the alley cat when he walks.
I wander through the apartment in my boxer briefs, then run a steamy shower. When I’m under the warm water, my erection comes surging back.
There’s an ongoing war I’ve been trapped in for years. It’s the battle of not thinking about Milo when I jerk off.
First, it was scolding myself not to masturbate to memories of my ex. Then we evolved into a friendship again, and I tortured myself over the persistent temptation, like it would be betraying him if I fantasized about what we used to do together.
Maybe if I stopped jerking it to his memory, I’d stop obsessing over him in real life.
And maybe if I had sex that good with just one other person, I’d be able to get over Milo.
I press my forehead against the tile wall and run my hand up my stiff length. At least, for once, I have an easy distraction ready.
Nothing wrong with fantasizing about your straight-ish fake boyfriend, after all.
A thrill shoots through me, from my toes up to my forehead. I think about Stone’s full, round lips and the steady warmth of his body when I leaned against him during the movie.
It felt so nice.
I slick my hand with soap and fist my cock. I beat myself and imagine how much fun it would be to undress Stone and explore all of his tattoos.
Kissing him all over his pretty face, riding our cocks together, and chasing those clouds out of his eyes.
Pleasure builds and tightens and finally explodes. My balls squeeze up close to my body, and I shoot my load. With a weak moan, I lean against the tile wall and stay there, trying to recover.
“Stone,” I say quietly and let the water run down my face.
He really is something special. As I dry off and comb my hair, I remember how much fun it had been, just watching that good-bad movie with him.
I wasn’t sure how he’d react to my friends or whether he’d get all anxious about his sexuality, being around a bunch of queer people. But Stone surprised me. He was just as chill as always and totally able to play the part.
Hell, maybe I’ll even try to get him to hang out with me after this is all over. We could be mismatched friends or something.
After years of hiding away in geek world, there’s something unexpected and fun about connecting with him and finding all these similarities with a person so different than me.
So impossibly different, in fact, there’s no way I’ll let this bubbling attraction boil over and confuse me. He’s not meant for me, clearly, and that’s all there is to it.
I grab my backpack and ride my bike to the coffee shop. Fall is rolling along, and the cooler air feels nice on my skin.
While I’m riding, I realize things are actually going pretty good in my life. I’ve got this fancy fellowship, and pretty soon, I’ll show my first short at a festival with a bunch of directors and artists I respect.
And to top it all off, Milo could barely keep his eyes off me at the movie night. I might be reading into it, but after just one appearance by my new boyfriend, Milo is already looking at me and texting me the way he used to, back before the breakup.
No wonder I’m practically grinning and whistling to myself by the time I walk into the coffee shop and find Stone waiting in the back.
Maybe the endorphins from jerking off are still lingering with me, but he’s looking even better than usual.
I want to hurry to him and touch him. I want to feel his body like I did watching the movie.
Except that totally isn’t the vibe. We’re not acting for other people now. I’m just figuring out whether I actually want to go through with this tattoo.
It’s a business transaction and nothing more.
