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He snickers. “Meat bag? You mean bodies?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
He chews on his lip. “That’s deep, dude. I think I like it.”
“Just my little bullshit theory.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “Mine is hoping I don’t go to hell for wanting dicks in my ass.”
I’m not prepared for the way his words go straight to my cock.
“Oof. Miller one and Masters zero.” I cup myself, shaking my head with a choked laugh, and he puts a hand over his face.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. That was too much. I don’t really want—”
“Oh no you don’t! You can’t say you want a dick in your ass and then recant. That’s not okay.”
Miller swoons into the passenger’s side window, drawing his knees up and covering his head with his arm. “Pardon me while I expire and check your theory for you.”
That makes me laugh. It’s a real laugh, and it sounds strange in the quiet of the car. When I dare a look at him, he’s grinning.
“I want both,” he says softly. “Or I should say I don’t know yet. I’ve never tried…you know?”
Fuck me, my dick is standing at attention. When I laugh, it sounds choked. “Miller. Jeezus, brother. I’m about to wreck this thing and then we’ll both be finding out which way is up.”
“Top or bottom, Masters?”
My last name hits me like a slap, and I say, “Ezra. Ezzie, Ez, or angel will work, too.”
He bites his lip. “Sorry. Angel.” He gives me a small smile.
“I don’t know either, Mills. How would I? Maybe top?”
“I heard it’s all bullshit with Cara,” he says, looking out the window.
“Yeah. It was.”
“So you’re gay?” He’s whispering. I can tell he’s nervous by the way his body freezes as he asks the question.
“If I’m not, I sure am acting faggy, yeah?”
I see his face go pensive as I hang a right onto the county road that will take us to the pizza place. “Why do you say that?” he asks.
“I don’t know. It’s just a bullshit word. It’s a weak insult, so I use it how I want to. You don’t like it?”
“It’s like the verbal version of a slap…to me, at least.”
“I won’t say it again.” An awful thought hits me. “You get called that before?”
“No way. Almost no one knows, so…”
“But you hear it.” I’m just speculating.
He nods. “People use it like an insult, and I get it, like re-claiming bad words, but to me…”
“I get that. It sticks with you.”
“It sticks in me,” he smirks. “And not in the sexy way.”
That makes me smile and shake my head. “You want me rolling up to that place hard as a rock?”
He looks over at my lap. “Fuck, you’re getting me hard now, too.” He laughs. “So you’re gay? You’re telling me you’re gay?”
“If you’re not telling anyone…then—” I sigh, too loud.
“Why can’t I tell? Not that I ever would. But your dad seems cool. And I know my mom is.”
“I have a mom too, in case you weren’t aware.”
“And you went to Christian school…”
My stomach flips as I nod. “Trust me when I say it wouldn’t turn out well for me if my mom heard that I was gaying it up down here.”
He looks thoughtful for a moment. Sad. He says, “Damn. I’m sorry. That must be a lot on you.”
I reach for his hand, lacing my fingers through his and then bringing our joined hands to my lap. I can’t bring myself to make him touch my boner, but once he’s this close, he does it himself.
“You’re a lot on me, Josh Miller.”
He rubs me lightly, sending heat all through my lower body.
“I thought you were a gay hater,” he says softly.
“That’s the cliché isn’t it? Gotta make sure no one thinks you’re one of them.”
He grips my dick, his eyes hard on mine. “You scared me.”
“I know. I’m an asshole.” I move his hand off my dick. “If you’re smart, you’ll let me get you pizza and just avoid me after tomorrow.”
He lays his palm over my bulge, squeezing just a little as he cups me.
“And if I’m not?” he whispers, running his thumb over my cockhead through my pants. “You gonna fuck me up? Just start the snowball rolling and let it go where it goes? And give up steering?”
I bite my lip hard enough to hurt. “I’ve never been steering.” Everything that’s happened between us has been accidental—at least on my end. Everything until me asking him to come get pizza with me. That’s where it all shifted.
Mills comes under me and cups me, pressing my balls up against the base of my cock. Then he leans over and nips at my throat. “I think you’re better than that shit, dude. Coward stuff.”
My cheeks and neck flush. I pull off on the roadside; we’re not two hundred yards from the pizza joint. “Did you just call me a coward?” I grip his chin, wanting to bite him and kiss him; I don’t know which I crave more.
