Page 42 of Wingmen

He scooped up the laptop and flipped it open as he sat with his feet on the coffee table. Not knowing where to begin, he went withIs it gay for a guy to suck someone’s dick.

Jesus fucking Christ, Bennet.Yes, obviously.

The AI summary told him,Actually no. Not necessarily.Sexuality was fluid, it said: a single act didn’t define it. It told him it was normal to be confused, to focus on how he felt before, during, and after the moment, and to remember that he was in control of his identity.

Which was actually helpful.

Next to the summary were some links, which took him to a subreddit calledAsk Gay Men. As the page opened, his face went red with embarrassment, and he glanced around like there might be someone reading over his shoulder. There wasn’t – he was in his own fucking apartment for Christ’s sake – so he opened the first post.

Forty-five minutes later, he’d read nearly every “Am I gay?” post in the subreddit, and rather than putting his mind at ease, they’d only made him more confused. There were plenty of posts from guys who’d come out after thirty, but most of them went something like, “I knew I was gay when I was eightbut…” or, “Repressed it for yearsand…”

As far as Dustin knew, he hadn’t been repressing anything. As far as he knew, he’d spent his whole life having great, if brief, relationships with women, and then some salty teenager had slouched into a charity event with a fishbowl full of Windex and called him an old man, andthatwas the cock Dustin had decided to put in his mouth.

Helikedwomen. He wasintowomen. He’d never had the impulse to putanyone’scock in his mouth before,ever.

So maybe he was bi? Or just…gay for Elliot Rodriguez?

He pressed his eyes under the heels of his hands and took a breath and looked out the window. Then he went back to Rodriguez’s Instagram.

He scrolled fast, like he could outrun his own hand already palming his cock through his sweats. He found the picture. The cross and wings inked on his chest. The word on his ribs, which Dustin now knew wasSalvador.The kid looking cocky; leering over his sunglasses. The gleam of his oiled skin.

Dustin’s hand was in his boxers before he could talk himself out of it. This was wrong. He was thirty years old. He was straight. Did that weirdly make it hotter?

He zoomed in on the photo, beginning to stoke. Traced the shadow thatmighthave been the outline of Elliot’s junk with his eyes. Remembered theamountthat came out of it all over Dustin’s t-shirt.

Holy shit, it wasso much.

That was the thing he kept coming back to: thevolume. It was like a revelation, he’d never seen anything like it. Granted,Rodriguez was nearly ten years younger than him, but…even eight years ago, Dustin was pretty sure he’d never achieved a bucket-load likethat.

His hand moved faster. Thinking about that was already going to put him over the edge. The laptop screen blurred. His hips lifted off the couch–

And the phone buzzed noisily on the coffee table.

Dustin was so startled he nearly dropped the computer. He said, “Oh no!” as come spurted out of him in three helpless pulses – onto the keyboard, the trackpad, all over the screen. It splashed onto Elliot’s sneering pout and dribbled onto the space bar.

“Fuck.”

It was everywhere. He rolled off the couch and went to the kitchen for a towel. Dried his hand and dabbed the sweats, and did his best for the laptop, hoping to God it wasn’t going under the keys.

When all that was done he stood with his dick hanging out of his sweats and looked at what had made the phone buzz. A text from Rodriguez:

alive

Dustin’s heart skipped. He quickly put himself away and closed the computer – he couldn’t have Elliot’s picture looking at him; not after what it had just seen. He sent back:

Good.

He didn’t know what else to say. He stared at the phone, waiting for Elliot to send something else. Nothing came, so eventually he sent,Everything okay?

A ridiculous question. But they had to start somewhere.

Chillin, came the reply.You?

Sighing, Dustin sat on the couch. Was Rodriguez seriously going to act like nothing had happened? He couldn’t let him dothat – but he didn’t want to spook him. He sent back,I’m okay. Processing.

Elliot sent back a thumbs-up.

Had a good time at Bernies, Dustin replied.