Jude:big with nice arms??? milo that's ALL THE INFORMATION I NEED. lock it down. LOCK. IT. DOWN.
Milo:it's a hookup guys it's not that deep
Benji:you screenshotted a man's DMs in the chat, it's that deep
I close the app because Benji is annoyingly perceptive. I swap back to my DMs. Anonymous has sent two messages since the screenshots.
Anonymous:How was the rest of your shift?
Anonymous:Thinking about you behind that desk, trying to concentrate. I like that I distracted you.
My face warms. I pull the blankets up over my legs—not a full nest, just piled and tucked around me the way I like them—and type back.
Milo:you VERY much distracted me. i almost scanned a textbook upside down
Anonymous:Worth it?
Milo:ask me again when my boxers are dry
I cannot fucking believe I typed that. I watch the three dots pulse and press my hot face into the pillow.
Anonymous:Jesus, sweetheart. You can't say things like that and expect me not to think about it.
Milo:who said i don't want you thinking about it
Where is this coming from? Who is this version of me? Maybe this is what I'm actually like when nobody's watching.
I stare at the ceiling. My heart is pounding. My boxers are ruined. And the thing I want most in the world right now isn't another filthy message—it's his face. His body, in front of me, close enough to scent.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I type.
Milo:i want to meet you
I hit send and immediately stop breathing. The typing indicator appears. Disappears. Appears again. The silence stretches long enough that my stomach starts to sink. Maybe that was too much. Maybe the whole point of this for him is that it stays behind a screen, anonymous and safe, and I just blew it by wanting more than I'm supposed to.
The dots pulse again. Stop. Start. He's typing and deleting. Whatever he's trying to say, it's costing him something.
Anonymous:Yeah?
Not a no, but not the instant yes I was hoping for. Something careful in it, like he's standing at the edge of something and looking down.
Milo:yeah. i want to hear your voice. i want to know if you smell as good as i think you do
Another pause. Longer this time. My chest aches with it.
Anonymous:I want that too. More than you know.
Anonymous:I just want to make sure you're sure. Because once we do this, it's real. And I don't want to be someone who disappoints you.
My breath catches. There's something raw in that. Something that doesn't sound like a guy playing it cool on a hookup app. It sounds like a person who's scared of the same thing I'm scared of—that the real version of them won't measure up.
Milo:you couldn't disappoint me if you tried
Milo:i have this dinner thing friday with my friend's family but i could meet up after? like 9ish?
The dots appear instantly this time. Whatever wall he hit, he's past it.
Anonymous:Friday works. I'll send you a spot. Somewhere public, low-key. And if you get there and decide you want to leave, you leave. No pressure, no expectations.
