More laughter.
That’s how it goes for the next hour. One joint turns into two, and both of us saying stupid shit, and uncontrollable laughter. I don’t know if I’ve ever had this much fun with another person.
At some point, Mike lays his head on my shoulder, and I don’t have any reason to tell him not to right now. “Hey, Alex?”
“Hm?”
“Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” I tell him, watching him twist a hair tie around his fingers.
He shrugs, and I look up to find him already watching me with fuzzy eyes and a little pout. “It seems like you do. Is it because you’re homophobic?”
He narrows his eyes, and I can tell that he’s completely serious right now. Even through the haze of two joints, he’s serious, and he thinks that I’m…
Homophobic.
“No.”
“Really? Because it seems like—”
I say it flat out. No dancing around it. AndI’m sure I’ll regret it later, when the high wears off, and I remember that I’msupposed to be keeping it down. Ignoring my feelings. But right now, I say it.
“I’m gay.”
“You’re—”
“Gay.”
“But—”
He looks at me for a long time, and I’m not sure that he believes me, even though I have no reason to lie aboutthat. I wish I were. It would have made my life a lot easier.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sits up fully then, pinning me in place with a glare that has no business being that cute.
“It’s not exactly something I go around telling people, dude.”
“But think about it,” he says, and the next thing I know, he’s throwing a leg over my lap to straddle me.
“What—”
“We’ve been living together for almost a month.” He’s so close. He’s getting closer. And my brain isn’t moving fast enough to know what to do. My hands are hovering near his hips, wanting to land there, but—
“We could have been fucking this entire time.”
His lips crash into mine with no warning. In hindsight, the straddling me and the coming closer and the words were all the warning, but my brain is still hanging back around,why didn’t you tell me.
Mike kisses like he does everything.
Comfortable, loose, and way too much for me, tasting faintly of weed. I try to keep up with his lips, when he cups my jaw a certain way to get me to open my mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against mine.
While my brain is still catching up, my body is all in.
I grasp his hips, pulling him closer. He makes an approving sound against my mouth, rewarding me with a nibble to mybottom lip that goes straight to my cock, pressing against my zipper.
I’m lost in the way his body feels, his mouth on mine, the little sounds he keeps making. I know I’m not keeping up with him, and I don’t even care. I’m just along for the ride.
He pulls back from my lips, and I must make some sort of protesting noise, because he laughs again, but this time, it doesn’t feel like he’s laughing atme.
