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Sagging against the bed, I cupped my tender nuts and blinked up at the ceiling. My pulse was pounding in my throat, and I thought my ears were ringing until it registered that the high-pitched sound was coming from somewhere else.
My head jerked up off the pillow. As another loud sound came from the living room, I finally realised someone was buzzing my apartment from the front door of the building.
I hurriedly got out of bed and stood there for a few seconds, wondering who the hell would be visiting me on a Sunday morning. I didn’t get visitors. My mom and dad lived a couple of states over, and they would never just show up unannounced. I didn’t really have friends. I’d drifted apart from all my old buddies after moving in with Marcus, and done the same with any mutual acquaintances we’d had during our relationship, finding it too awkward to be around them while they might also be hanging out with Marcus and Sage. Maybe even going to the same orgies as them. I had no idea.
The buzzing stopped for a few seconds, then started up again. Whoever was down there wasn’t giving up. Maybe I’d ordered a delivery while drunk with Holt on Thursday? It wouldn’t surprise me. God, it was probably something embarrassing. Like some kind of foot-shaped sex toy, because I’d told Holt I’d always wondered what a footjob felt like, and I could just picture him encouraging me to buy a sex toy to explore a possible fetish.
I hurried into the bathroom and stripped off my pyjamas to wipe up the cum, then grabbed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. I was freeballing it, but if it was a delivery, they’d just come to the door and barely even look at me.
I pressed the button on the buzzer. “Hello?”
There was a moment of silence before I heard a throat being cleared. Then, “Hey. It’s Holt.”
I broke out in an instant sweat. I didn’t even know why. Maybe because I’d just jacked off fantasising about him, and I was convinced he’d somehow be able to tell from the front door to my apartment building.
“Oh.” I let out a squawk of hysterical laughter for some reason. “H-hey. Uh…”
“Can I come up?”
My vision went spotty with nerves. “I—Y-yeah, of course.”
I was frozen in place with my finger on the intercom. After a few seconds of silence, Holt said, “You have to buzz me in, Taylor.”
“Oh!” Another embarrassing laugh. “Right!”
I fumbled with the right button, listening to the buzz come through the intercom until I heard Holt open the door. I looked around the apartment in wild panic. Oh god, the ironing board was still out. He’d know I was a total dork who’d spent my Saturday night ironing in front of the TV.
Maybe I should just lean into it. Act all devil-may-care and like I was actually the true rebel by not playing by society’s rules. I could even be literally leaning against the ironing board in a cool pose when he got here and say something edgy like, ‘What up, Holt. Yeah, I like the way freshly ironed boxer briefs feel against my balls. What of it? Guess I’m just a maverick who doesn’t care what people think.’
Except I definitely cared what people thought. Especially Holt. And he seemed to like my unfashionable clothing and boring haircut. I mean, my ennui had made him super horny.
My waffling meant I was still standing directly in front of the door when he knocked on the other side of it, making me jump out of my skin. I glanced down at my groin in panic. Oh god, you could definitely tell I wasn’t wearing underwear.
Maybe he’ll like it. I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. Just as I was opening it, I realised with a stab of horror that these were the old sweats I only wore in total solitude, because when I’d bought them several years ago, I hadn’t noticed that they had Open for Business written in cursive across the butt. I’d wondered why the cashier kept giggling while I was paying for them, and when I got home and realised, I’d been too embarrassed to return them.
It was too late to go and change. The door was already open. I was staring at Holt, who was wearing his cat-eye sunglasses—even though it wasn’t all that sunny out—and a big hot pink faux fur coat over tight black jeans and a T-shirt that I was guessing was merch for Corey, because it had pink nipple tassels printed on the chest.
He was in his human ‘skin,’ and when he lifted the sunglasses to the top of his head, light brown eyes with normal pupils were trailing down my frame.
“Hey.” His voice was husky, sending jittery lust through my belly. Why did he have to be so hot, and an emotion-piggybacking creature who knew just how much he affected me?
“H-hi.” My voice broke. I tugged nervously on the hem of my T-shirt, but all that did was draw his gaze back down to my crotch. His eyes flared with heat. “Um… Wh-what are you…”
“Brought you breakfast.” He suddenly looked a little nervous as he held out the cardboard cupholder in his hand, a brown paper bag dangling from his fingers underneath. I took both in wordless surprise, looking down at the steaming coffee cup and big soda cup with a straw poking out.
“Oh. Wow. Thanks, I…” To my humiliation, my throat got a little thick. No one had brought me breakfast in years. When Marcus and I had been dating, before we’d lived together, I’d always been the one to turn up at his place with surprise breakfast. Until he’d told me that he really didn’t like people showing up unannounced, not even his boyfriend who he’d been planning to move in with.
“Thank you,” I repeated to Holt, swallowing. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, well, I…” He cleared his throat, cheeks staining pink as he shrugged. “When you didn’t text or show up last night, I figured I’d come and help you process.”
I stared at him in shock. “I, um… I didn’t know I was… invited again.”
“You’re on the list. Indefinitely. My list.”
I flushed, clutching the cupholder and paper bag. “Oh. Th-thank you.”
He cleared his throat again, fidgeting with his coat. “Can I come in?”
