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Or last night.
He opens his mouth, closes it. It’s kinda funny. Makes me feel a little guilty for making him uncomfortable.
But hey. He’s seen me naked a thousand times at the gym showers. And if he’s uncomfortable because last night he came as he watched me fuck myself on a vibrator, well… Accepting he likes dick as well as pussy won’t end his world.
It sure as hell didn’t end mine, and I had worse to contend with back when I realized.
Yeah, I’m in full fuck-you mode today, and I’m not even sure why. It’s Sunday, and Joel wants to go running with me.
Oh, and talk.
Dammit.
It doesn’t help that he’s openly staring at me, at my dick that’s up to greet the new day. Hey, morning wood is a fact of life, and damn but Joel looks good all sweaty, manly and broody in the watery sunlight spilling through the kitchen window.
“So talk,” I mutter.
He walks to the sink, giving me his back. Probably so that he won’t stare at my dick anymore while talking. “About l
ast night.”
“What about it?”
“I’m not gay, man.”
Fuck’s sake. So predictable, Joel. “Fine. You’re not. Happy?”
He turns to give me a sharp look. “I mean it. I’m not into guys.”
“Then why are you looking at my dick?”
He curses and turns back around, his back a rigid line.
Stop pushing, I tell myself. Remember he’s your best friend. He’s your only family. This isn’t worth it.
I sigh. This is a fucked-up way to start a Sunday. “Look, J…” I scratch the back of my neck. “It’s okay.”
“I liked… being with Candy and you.”
The quiet confession startles me. I feel my eyes going round. “You did?”
I mean, I knew he liked watching. Maybe that’s what he means?
“I liked touching you both. Having you both follow my directions. Feeling you both there.”
Okay, this is much more than I expected Joel to admit to. And it scares me a little, because it gives me hope. More hope than I can afford.
“But that’s it.” A tremor goes through his strong back. “I don’t wanna kiss you, or blow you, or fuck you, okay?”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time. You’re not gay.” I put my mug down on the counter, not to throw it at him.
No point in explaining again what bisexuality means, that it’s normal to like both genders, that there’s nothing evil about it.
I’m not gay either. I like both. And in my case… I need both. I don’t know why—and I guess I never will—whether it was my fucked-up childhood or if the necessity was always in me.
“I’m gonna head out again,” he says after a moment. “Coming?”
“Nah, you go ahead.” I draw a deep, calming breath. “Got stuff to do.” Which isn’t a lie—I should do a load of laundry and study for my GED—but it still sounds oddly petulant in my ears. “Maybe some other day,” I add, to soften it.
