“Shut up, dude, oh my god,” I say in disgust, and that makes him giggle like a freakin’ weirdo. But thankfully, he moves to the side enough for me to get up, so I’ll count that as a win.
He’s up by the time I come back downstairs, after a long, hot shower where I spent the entire time overthinking whathappened last night.
I’ve never been in this situation before.
Jason didn’t want to discuss anything. He hated what we were doing. What we were. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening unless it was.
I get the feeling Mike isn’t going to want to pretend it didn’t happen.
“Hey,” he says as soon as I walk into the kitchen, sitting on the counter with a bowl of Fruit Loops like it’s any other morning. I busy myself making my own breakfast, buying time before I have to talk.
I am never smoking weed again.
What was I doing, thinking it was a good idea to come out tohimof all people? And then I went and let him give me a fucking blow job? What is wrong with me?
“Are you freaking out?”
“No.”
“You’re scowling at the eggs.” I turn to look at him, because I am not, but he continues, pointing at my face. “Now you’re scowling at me.”
“Are youtryingto make this uncomfortable?”
“Why would it be uncomfortable?” I look up to the ceiling, begging anyone that’s listening for the patience to deal with this.
“Look, what happened last night happened. We can’t take it back—”
“Do you want to take it back?” He interrupts, and if I didn’t know any better, I would think he soundshurtby the implication.
“We’re roommates,” I point out.
“So? Come here,” he holds out his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me closer even though I should be keeping my distance. “Give me a kiss.”
I look down at him. He’s still shorter than me, even sitting on the counter, just by a few inches. His lips are right there, and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.
I can’t help myself.
I do.
I hold his face in my hands gently while his wrap around my waist, pulling me between his legs as our lips meet. It’s not the kiss from last night, deep and dirty, inhibitions gone from the joints we smoked.
This one is almost chaste in comparison, his soft lips connecting with mine, for only a few seconds, but it feels more intimate than anything we did last night, kissing in the morning light.
He tastes like Fruit Loops.
I pull back before it can get heated, resting my forehead against his, out of breath for no reason at all.
“You haven’t kissed very many people, have you?” He says in the small space between us. I shake my head because I haven’t been embarrassed enough, apparently. But he doesn’t make fun of me, the way I’m expecting.
He kisses me again, and I can feel him smiling against my lips.
“That’s okay. I happen to be an expert. At kissing. Blow jobs…” I pull back, sensing one of his ramblings. “I guess you could call me a sexpert.”
“A sexpert? Really? Does that line usually work?”
“I don’t need a line. You already moved in with me and let me suck your dick, so.”
I look away at the reminder, letting go of him and backing up until I’m leaning against the counter across from him. An emotion I can’t pinpoint flickers across his face, but he smoothes it out quickly.
