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“So, I have a question for you,” he says as he takes two of his chef’s premade meals out of the oven.
“You know you don’t have to ask to bottom, right? You can just tell me that’s what you’re in the mood for.” I palm his delectable ass and give it a nice squeeze since I’ve become well-acquainted with it over the last week. Even though we agreed to take turns, he’s still working up to the point where he can take me without a lot of prep, and I am happy to oblige.
“Noted.” He smirks. “But that’s not what I was going to ask.”
“Okay, what’s up?” I snatch a piece of broccoli off one of the plates and pop it in my mouth. Still can’t believe I actually like the green stuff his chef makes.
“My neighbors have this charity party every year—they invite the whole neighborhood—and it’s coming up this weekend. I thought maybe you could come with me?”
The muscles in my body grow instantly heavy, like they’ve turned to concrete, making it hard to move let alone speak. “You want me to go to a party with you?”
“Yeah.”
My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest. On the one hand…party! On the other, I’m not a stranger to these types of charity events, and they aren’t the type of thing you bring the guy you’re fucking to. “I feel like that’s a couple’s thing, not a fuck buddy thing.”
To my surprise that statement doesn’t seem to faze him. “You’ve been staying here for weeks taking care of me. Aren’t we past fuck buddies?”
“Okay… Maybe we’re friends with benefits.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
Oh shit. I knew I’d overstayed my welcome, but… Hot sex. On the daily. I guess that’s bound to happen when two spectacular cocks come out to play, but… Ugh, focus!
“Well, what would you call it? We’re not boyfriends,” I state plainly. “I don’t do that, and we still don’t even know if you’re gay or bi or what. You can’t be anything more than friends with benefits without knowing that.” I’m making this shit up as I go because I can’t handle thinking we’ve crossed into boyfriend land.
I knew I shouldn’t have fucked his hole.
I knew he was using that as a way to get me to stay, but I listened to my cock instead of my brain. Not that I can’t be talked into pretty much anything with the promise of sex, but deep down I suspected the offer to top him was his way of steering us towards something beyond just fucking, and I was too horny to care, dammit.
“I think maybe I’m demi.” Noah interrupts my internal rant.
“Ooh, someone used Google.” It’s a childish retort but… Hello, it's me. I take my plate and sit at the kitchen table, putting some distance between us.
“I’m serious.” Noah follows me. “I think I’m only attracted to people I feel connected to.”
“And you think you’re connected to me? Me, not my cock? I’d understand if you were confused, especially since you’ve been working through some stuff. We should probably make sure though.” I stand to unbutton my pants.
“Do not show me your dick right now. A hard-on doesn’t solve everything.”
“That didn’t even cross my mind.” It totally crossed my mind.
“So, what’s that then?” He points to my crotch. “Checking to make sure your zipper works?”
“I had to readjust.” I drop back into my chair and pretend I wasn’t trying to avoid this conversation with sex. “Okay, I can see how you’d feel connected to me after I took care of you, but I could get you going even before that. That’s not demi.”
“Not true. I’ve always found it easy to talk to you. To be myself. I think because you’re so unapologetically…you.” Noah waves his hand over me from head to toe. “You made me comfortable enough to be me.”
Okay, that’s actually sweet, but still scary since I don’t do sweet.
“What are you saying?”
“I like you. A lot.”
“Cool.” I spear a piece of chicken and shove it in my mouth. “I like you too.”
“No, I mean I like you. As in I want to be with you. Preferably as more than just two friends who fuck each other.”
“Like boyfriends?” I feel my eyes grow wide with panic.
