Page 41 of Catching Sparkles

While I pondered that very frightening thought, Kendall wriggled under me a bit so he could reach up toward the front of the car. Flipping open the center console, he extracted a pack of wet wipes and pushed them into my hands.

“Are you going to be a good boy and clean me up?” He asked, sweeter than the ripest, darkest honey.

I nodded eagerly, ripping some out of the opening and carefully using them on him, practically drooling when he let out an adorable laugh as I swept over his abdomen. He was ticklish. Of fucking course he was ticklish.

Truthfully, I wanted to clean him up in a different way. Drag my tongue over his body in long, hot licks, periodically returning to his mouth so he could suck the traces of his cum away. But if lapping it off his finger was crossing a line, doing that would be like volunteering myself to serve a life sentence in Bisexual Jail. And anyway, if I started that I’d probably be hard again before I finished, and then we’d be stuck in a disastrous loop of getting each other off and cleaning it up. Better to play it safe for now.

As I finished cleanup duty, Kendall’s phone started vibrating from the crumpled pile of his jeans in the floorboard.

“It’s Josie,” he informed me, once he’d reached down to retrieve it. The screen was lit up with the indicator of the incoming call.

“Y-you’re not going to answer it, are you?” I asked, a chill snaking up my spine as I zipped my pants back up.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, giving me an odd look.

“Well, she… She probably knows we’re together. Benjamin probably told her we were.”

“So?”

“So… I don’t know,” I finished weakly, confused and scared for reasons I couldn’t even understand. “What if she can tell we did something?”

He stared up at me for so many tense, silent seconds that his phone stopped vibrating. I was mildly ashamed by it, but relief flooded me now that she was no longer waiting for him to pick up and potentially reveal what we’d done. What I’d done. What I’d really, really fucking enjoyed doing.

“How would she know we did anything?” He asked. I couldn’t decode his tone, or the sudden blankness exuding from his eyes.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my guts churning a bit. “I just don’t, um…”

“You don’t want anyone to know you’re hooking up with me,” he finished flatly. “I know that. I’m not an idiot, Rhys.”

“N-no,” I stammered out, the sharp acid in his statement shocking me and blanking out my brain function. “That’s not… I don’t mean…”

“I already told you I’m used to that,” he reminded me, and I scrambled back when he shoved at me to get off him so he could awkwardly stuff his legs back into his tight jeans. “Why would I rat you out when I haven’t ratted out any of the other straight guys who thought it’d be fun to mess around with me?”

“I didn’t mean it li-”

“It’s fine,” he cut me off, with an authoritative finality I hadn’t even known he could exude. “We don’t have to talk about it. I get it.”

He didn’t get it. I didn’t even get it. But I knew I’d fucked up and hurt his feelings, which was the last fucking thing I’d ever wanted to do.

But as we pulled back out onto the road, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I should apologize. If he’d want or accept my apology, or even what exactly I’d be apologizing for, beyond just making him unhappy.

I felt like the world’s biggest asshole, but… everything in my brain was so mixed up. I wasn’t embarrassed about hooking up with Kendall. He was gorgeous, sweet, funny, and unbelievably caring.

Did I really care that much about anyone finding out I was messing around with a guy? Or was it because I didn’t know what the hell I wanted or what was going to happen when I figured it out? Did I want everyone knowing I was a huge fucking perv who’d drunkenly stumbled into his apartment begging for sexual contact? Did I want my parents knowing I’d done that? Would people think I was taking advantage of him?

Would I ever want to fuck other guys? Would I want to date guys?

I didn’t know what anyone would think of me. I’d never been anything but a straight guy. I’d never been the object of scrutiny and judgment. Not about that kind of thing, anyway.

It was too much to think about, too overwhelming. I had enough going on in my life.

But was I… Trying to take the easy way out? Was I fucking Kendall over, because once we decided we were done needing each other I could go on with my life as a straight guy and everyone would be none the wiser? But he wasn’t like me. He would always have to deal with everyone’s judgment and disdain. Like he’d said, he couldn’t hide it.

I wasn’t ready to think about any of that either.

We were basically silent on the way home and I had to bite down into my tongue to keep from babbling out an apology, for the fear that he’d spit it back in my face. And I wouldn’t blame him.

And then when I got home and Mom realized Kendall hadn’t come in with me, she’d sighed with obvious disappointment about not getting to visit with him, which was also my fault and racked me with guilt.