I don’t come up with an answer.
I fall asleep instead.
* * *
Three weeks pass.
To be honest, three weeks is enough for the weirdness to metabolize. For the horniness to level out. For my brain to file the whole night under “wild shit that happened once”and pivot back to robotics labs and the seventeen assignments I have due before the end of term. And pussy too, obviously.
Except that’s not what happens.
What happened is I’ve become a different person.
Outwardly I’m the same. I go to class, do my work, eat Grant’s food, play games with Finn, go to gym with Walker and help Miles debug whatever’s currently breaking his brain. Everything looks normal.
The problem is internal.
Because I’m absolutely losing my mind.
I don’t know how to explain it except that something got switched on that night, and now the toggle is stuck. It’s been two weeks, and I’m running hot soconstantlythat it’s getting genuinely inconvenient.
I notice the scale of the problem during Control Systems, which is a class I used to like.
Professor Aldridge is writing something on the board, one hand in his pocket, sleeve rolled to the elbow. I wouldn’t be able to stop staring even if I tried, which I didn’t.
He’s got to be pushing fifty, but he’s got this thing about him—salt and pepper beard, white at the temples, nice body. He teaches like he’s doing the class a favor, an air of authority that my body suddenly finds fascinating.
I’ve sat in this man’s class for three months and never thought about him once outside of the educational context.
Week one after the party, I walk in, sit down, and Professor Aldridge starts explaining feedback loops, and somewhere between the introduction and the first equation my brain just completely abandons the mission.
I spend the hour fixated on his hands. They’re big. He talks with them, gestures at the board, and I can’t stop imagining being manhandled by someone who’s been doing this a long time and knows exactly what to do with their hand and their dick.
I’m hard before he even hits the second slide.
By week two, the fantasies get specific. I imagine him clearing his desk to bend me over it. Or calling me up to the board and wrecking me in front of everyone. Or calling me to his office and saying he’ll teach me a few things, and me pretending to be naive about it. I’ve walked past his office twice for no reason, which is a new low I acknowledge fully.
I even asked about extra credit last week. I walked up after class with zero plan, and just blurted out, “Is there anything I can do for extra credit? Anything. Anything, really.”He looked at me over his glasses, and said my grade didn’t suggest I needed it. I said I was just being proactive. He said that was admirable, in a tone that was completely appropriate and that gave me absolutely nothing to work with.
I walked out of that building and stood in the sun for a full minute trying to locate my dignity.
But it’s not just him.
That’s the problem.
There’s a guy in Dynamics with forearms that ruin my focus every time he pushes his sleeves up. I’ve shifted my seat twice for a better angle.
There’s the neighbor across the street, this huge guy who I’d watched carry a full-size fridge by himself one afternoon. I had to go inside to jack off to the fantasy of him holding me down. His cock, in my fantasy, was bigger than Grant’s.
There’s the guy at the library reference desk who I’ve caught looking at me three or four times now. Every time it happens, I almost say something. Then I don’t. Because even if my body is screaming for a repeat of that night, I’m still straight—and that guy definitely isn’t.
And then there’s Eduardo.
Ed is Walker’s gym friend, and he comes around the house sometimes. He also has this specific habit of just pulling his dick out during trash-talk sessions as a power move. It’s a “talk to the big guy” thing. And… Okay. It’sa lotof dick. It’s a genuinely unreasonable amount of dick. The guys laugh it off every time. Then Ed puts it away, and the conversation moves on.
The last time he did it, I had to leave the room.
I went to the kitchen, got a glass of water, and stood at the sink thinking about the biology of human guts, and making some calculations.
