Tag: gay boyfriends

Gallery
by ccallenreese

How did it come to this? I mean, last time I checked I was a scruffy, carefree college student. Marriage, home-ownership, 9-5 jobs – those things were for chumps. I was out rock-climbing and kayaking. I backpacked India! and Europe! I went to bath houses in strange cities and had excellent sexual experiences with beautiful men. I was going to start a non-profit…or something….and change the world or something…

And how did I end up here? Didn’t it all start when I met Hugo on the back-packing trail? Weren’t were just going to be in an open-relationship, unbound, fun, and free? Cause trail relationships never work out? When did I become scared of that, and start to play it safe? Now I’m taking my work home with me because 40 hours is not enough hours to get it all done. Our names are on this house, because it’s more economical than renting. And I do believe the man whose arms are wrapped around my waist is thoroughly committed to me monogamously and loves me very much? And most of it all, why does our cat run this house? I haven’t sat down in two hours. I’m no Slytherin, I’m a Hufflepuff. No, I’m a doormat in front of the Hufflepuff house.

“Atlund,” my husband asks softly, “Are you overwhelmed with work tonight? We haven’t had a night together in a while…”I cringe. When he’s speaking softly, it’s not a good sign. It mean he’s scared of being rejected, but he’s still so needy and hopeful that he’s risking it. This is the man that brought surprise-afternoon-sex to our relationship. And now it’s down to him begging while I drown in paper at 8 pm on a Tuesday night. I feel his arms tightening around me. I understand what Hugo’s saying without another word. I’m drifting away, and he’s trying to tether me to him. I glance down at the papers in my hand and suddenly, they’re meaningless.

”Hey Hugo?” I ask, tossing the papers onto the desk. One piece slides off the desk, over the cat. She doesn’t seem to care and resumes cat loafing.
”Yeah Atlund?” he asks, hopeful.
”You know what? I hate this.”
Hugo tenses. “…Oh my god, you hate me?”
My eyes go wide. I spin around and cup his face in my hands. “No, no no no, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. I mean – this.” I gesture with my hand. “I hate this, this…thing I’ve become. Let’s … let’s go.”
He sputters. “Go where?”
”South Asia. Let’s go buy a motorbike in Thailand and ride it across South Asia, and then we’ll meet up with your brother working in China.”
Hugo gasps.
”The distribution center you’re working for is merging and consolidating, right?”
He nods briskly.
”And you seem so burnt out. Volunteer to quit, they’ll probably give you severance. I’ll quit my job, we’ll rent the house for income, live off our savings, and spend those weeks relearning why we fell in love in the first place, and figure out how to live our lives right this time. God, I miss kayaking.”

Hugo looks frankly astonished. “…Am I asleep?” he finally asks, cautiously.
I hear a strange sound, then I realize it was me laughing. It’d been so long I almost didn’t recognize it. “No. No you’re not. I’ve been asleep. I got lulled into this stupid work/spend cycle and lost focus of what was important. You. Us. I can’t enjoy living unless I get time to love you.”
Hugo sniffles and his bottom lip quivers. He takes a deep breath. “Ok.” He says. “Ok, let’s do this. Let’s …let’s go. Wait.”
”What?” I ask, my eyes searching his face.
“What about Mittens?”
I glance at the cat. “We’ll give her to my sister. Our niece looooves her.”
Hugo nods, still seemingly a little stunned. “Wow. There really is an answer to everything.”
”Then let’s go.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
I hook my fingers in his belt loops. “Why don’t we celebrate our renewal by spending the rest of the evening having the dirtiest sex we can imagine?”
Hugo’s blank face slides into a smirk. “You wanna do it bareback? Me slamming again you, making the headboard bang against the wall?”
I groan. “Shit, I just want you fucking me. You do it in whatever pose you want.” I cup him between his legs and rub. “Oh man, Hugo, I forgot how hot you are… I want this. I want you. I want you so goddamn bad. God, how could I have ignored this for so long?”

Hugo jumps on me and kisses me, our lips roiling and colliding. I omit a muffled cry of bliss and bring our hips together. His shirt lands on the cat. Mittens seems miffed and goes off to do cat stuff.

Apparently, ‘dirty’ meant banging me right against the desk and getting cum and sweat all over the TPS reports… but we made it to the bed. Eventually.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

undiefangallery:

How adorable is this?!

I listen to him cough and hack. I rub his stomach and he groans. “I’ve been taking medication, why won’t the coughing stop? My muscles are so sore,” Per laments.
“Oh you’re awake. My poor baby, you can’t even nap. I’m sorry cleaning out my mom’s attic gave you bronchitis.”
“It’s not your fault. It was fun, and I love your mom.”
I chuckle. “She loves you too.”
He interrupts in another coughing fit. I wipe away the tears from his eyes. Per breathes slow and hard. “Ow,” he whimpers.
I pat his back. “There there.”
Per sighs. “What are you doing in bed with me anyway? Isn’t bronchitis contagious?”
“I’ll take my chances. Besides, you’re helpless, vulnerable, and also shirtless. You’re also stuck, and weakened, unable to fight me off. So, the cuddle monster got you.”
He chuffs. “Is that so?”
“Yess. You are stuck. You are so damn active all the time that you rarely sit still long enough for me to cuddle the hell out of you. So, I’m getting my time in now.”
Per thinks. “Yeah that’s true. Half the time we spoon at night, we either fall asleep right after or end up fucking.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Ha! No, that’s a very good thing. Matter of fact, when I get better, the first thing I’m gonna do is make up on all that sex we’re missing.”
“Are you now?” I ask, intrigued.
“Hell yeah. But maybe somewhere other than the bed. I’m gonna be sick of spending the day in bed by then.”
“Maybe outside? In a nice meadow somewhere? On a picnic?”
Per stretches, then curls again. “That’s a nice idea. I’ll ask my brother if we can borrow his horses and may–” his lungs seize and he begins hacking again. I comfort him as he spits into a tissue. “Uuughhhh…”
“My poor Per. Why don’t I draw you a hot bath? It might help loosen up all that crap in there.”
“A bath?…That sounds really wonderful actually. Will you bathe me?”
I pause. “Why is that idea so hot?”
Per suppresses a cough. “I dunno. I wouldn’t mind being treated like a King for a day though.”
I swat him on the shoulder. “Just because you have a Prince Albert, it doesn’t make you royalty.” I feel his body tremble with laughter, but that triggers another fit and I assure him through it.
“I miss having normal conversations that aren’t interrupted,” Per grumps.
“Ok, big boy. Let’s get you into the bath.”
“Can I have a cup of chocolate milk too?”
“Anything you want.” I kiss him on the same spot I swatted.
“Alright, get me up.”
I sit up and coax him upright. “Which part up?” I tease.
“Uh, both please?”
“Want me to jerk you off in the bath too?”
Per twists around to look at me. “That’s an option too?”
“Yep, as long as it doesn’t make you cough too much.”
He blinks. “I need to get sick more often.”

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Text is fictional. Per is a Swedish name.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I swear to god, he loves this cat more than me. I mean, look at this! First thing in the morning, I’m there, spooned up next to him, leeching his body warmth and cuddling the hell outta him. All the cat is doing is sitting on him, on top of the blankets – not even under like I am! and yet every morning who does he greet first? The cat. Who gets attention first? The cat. Sure she’s fluffy and adorable, especially when he’s purring, but he once told me I was adorable too right? And I get to be under the covers! Shouldn’t I get a morning kiss before the cat does? Not fair.

The cat knows it’s war. She KNOWS that we are fighting over the attention of the same boy. Sure, I don’t have little toebeans and a bottlebrush tail, but I have a tool in my bag that she can’t use though. I return all my boy’s kisses, then start touching him and humping him…aaand suddenly he becomes interested very quickly in what I can do to make him feel good and how I can tend to his morning needs. You should see the deathglare the cat gives me when my boy sets her on the floor so he can have sex. I know, it’s childish and pedantic to feel like you’ve won over the cat but, I often feel that I’m very close to losing my hierarchy in this household. At least I’m still the top in this relationship.

“What is it honey? You want to get another cat? Noooooo!”

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

leprinceofsins:

Magic Wood barebacks Draven Torres at RawStrokes.com (xox)

Later, after we were snuggling in post-coital bliss, he said: “I’m jealous.”
I tilt my head up and met his dark eyes. “Of what?”
“Other men…the men you had before me. The one night stands in college, the bar hook-ups, the party sex orgies, your boyfriends…so jealous that they got you before I did.”
I smile, crinkling the corners of my eyes. “You love being in me that much?”
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Tight, warm, like velvet, “ Marcus groans and handles his soft cock, as if checking to make sure he can’t squeeze another orgasm out of it. No luck – his balls are empty. “Shit, I can’t even put it into words. The way you smell, the noises you make, the way your beard brushing my face, the texture of your lips…Jesus,” Marcus sighs. “It’s like dying and going to heaven every time. I can’t get enough of you.”
I blush hard and put an arm around him. “Well you don’t have to be jealous.”
“How could I not be, baby?”
I smirk. “You think they all got sex like that?”
He lifts his head up. “What do you mean, baby?”
“You forgot, that before we met I was a slut. A raging, bottom slut. I didn’t care about the fuck as long as someone was on top of me, and made me cum. No one got to make love to me. No one. Especially no one that I wasn’t gonna see again. I thought it was trite. And yeah, I’ve had a few boyfriends. Boytoys, really, but they never turned into lovers, because I wasn’t ready to settle.”
“That means…” Marcus begins.
“I’m an old slut, love. There’s a 3 in front of my age, love. What’s fun becomes exhausting, the hangovers start to last a lot longer, the morning partings become more painful. The loneliness starts to sink in… as does the depression. And then I met you. And it was like I was starting over, and being in love for the first time.”

He blinks at me. “Honey I never knew this about you, how you felt about me.”
I pat his cheek. “You’re getting this old slut to let down his guard. Good for you.”
“You’re not old, and you’re not a slut. Well, you’re slutty, but not a slut. You’re mine,“ Marcus insists. “I like hearing that you want to settle with me, though. I like you. A lot.”
“Me too.”
We kiss.
“So…” Marcus begins. “With me, we’re making love?”
“Every damn time.”
He grins. “How did you know you were ready to share that with me? Cause when we first met, it wasn’t like this.”
“You were right. When we met, we just fucked. But then…then you started putting your hand over my cock when we had sex.”
“….I do?” He blinks.
I giggle. “Yeah you do it every time. You get me spread wide and open, make me impale myself on you, and before I can get anywhere near my needy little erection, you put your hand over it and my balls. Mine, you say. You don’t want me to touch. You don’t want me to focus on any other pleasure except the kind you’re giving me. And at first, it pissed me off, but then we had that night when we got back from the ballet remember?”
“Uh huh,” he replies, mesmerized by the words coming out of my mouth.
“And it was just…so wonderful. So intense. So slow, so passionate. And you did that, and it just felt right. I felt like I belonged to you, I wanted to give myself to you. So, I thought, why not? Why not see where this goes?” I kiss his chin. “It’s been a very rewarding experience. The sex is on another level.”

Marcus works his jaw. I wonder if he knows his eyes look a little wet. “Baby,” he manages. “I had no idea. I am so, so…flattered that you picked me, and let me pleasure you. When I met you, and started dating you, I thought – this guy is really special, but I don’t think he’s going to stick around long enough for me to show him how special he is. So every day to me, it’s like waking up in a dream.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I sigh, content. “Being in love is amazing. Getting fucked by you is amazing. Coming hands-free is amazing. Spending time with you is amazing. But it’s the sum of the parts that make me get up in the morning.”

Marcus wraps his arms around me and nuzzles my neck. “I love you so much, baby.”
“I love you too, Marcus. …Hey, what’s that poking me in my thigh?”
“Huh?” he glances down. “Well, shit, look at that. I don’t think there’s anything left in the arsenal though.”
I wrap my fingers around it. “Why don’t we find out?”

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Text is fictional. Source is below. Black gay porn actors have the best aliases. Magic Wood and Draven Torres are with Lucas Entertainment.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Every morning while I make breakfast, Toby pads into the kitchen and wraps his arms around me. I can faintly smell the toothpaste on his breath. Sometimes if I stand in one place long enough, he’ll doze off on me. If I move, he’ll just follow me. It’s pretty adorable.

And to think, I almost made him leave once. I found him on the side of the highway, cold and hungry and scared. He’d gotten into a specialized veterinary-focused community college 300 miles from home, and had no way to get there. His parents found out he was gay and disowned him soon, then kicked him out, leaving him entirely stranded. So, he started walking.

I think the world works in ways I don’t quite understand, because I live five miles from that college. I was on my way back from visiting my parents. Him staying with me was supposed to be temporary until Toby figured things out, but my roommate decided to move in with his girlfriend, leaving me with a vacancy…

I stir the contents of the pot and put the lid on. I’m making him jambalaya with kielbasa for lunch. I check on the bacon draining in papertowel. It’s cool now.

“Hunter?” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” I ask, rubbing his arm affectionately.
“Thank you.”
“For what? Bacon?”
He chuffs in my ear. “No…for stability. For quiet. It’s s’nice here. I love you Hunter.”
I swallow, hard. I squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his fingers. ‘I love you too Toby. You’ll never be stray again.”
Toby nuzzles me between my shoulder blades. “Good. Cause even if you put me out, I’ll still come beg at your door.”
I smile. “Good. Cause my bed isn’t the same without you in it.”

Toby sighs gently and then I hear his breathing slow. He’s fallen asleep again. Poor thing. He’s just not a morning person. I stand there, patiently, nibbling on my bacon and eggs and checking Reddit on my phone. After fifteen minutes, Toby wakes up just long enough for me to make him eat his breakfast before I have to put him down for a nap.

When I get back from classes at University, I am astonished to find the apartment looking spotless. 

I find a note on the counter: “Thanks for lunch and for the nap <3 I needed the rest, I was up so late studying for today’s lab test. I feel like I’m gonna do great. Don’t wait for me for dinner, I’m going to be out in Amerville for farm study, and I have my 8pm make-up lab today. By the way – my teacher is trying to rehome baby bunnies someone left in a box here. Do you want a bunny?”

I run my fingers through my hair and chuckle. Strays taking home strays. I have a feeling by the time Toby becomes Dr. Toby Mallory our home is going to be a zoo. Maybe that won’t be such a bad thing.

I send Toby a text: “Pick the runt.”
An hour later he sends me a photo of him cuddling a tiny black fuzzball. My heart melts, and I set it as my new phone wallpaper.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

He came by to help you close up the store. Your sister runs the place, selling very nice bath products and tattoo care, soap and candles. She wanted a night off, so you worked her shift. By closing time, the place was dead, so you invited your boyfriend to keep you company.

Recently, you can’t seem to get enough of him. You’re still not really sure what happened, because he was a friend for the longest time and you were pretty goddamn sure he was straight. Apparently he’s just got the best gaydar cloaking technology in existence because you found his stash of your stolen undershirts and underwear when over at his place. You just had to take one look at this miserable face and incredibly hot body, and you know you were going to give him what he wanted instead of leaving him. Heck, you wanted him since day one but thought you were being the good gay friend by keeping your hands off. Now that the barrier had been broken, the mattress was not going to get a break.

Now, you could hardly go anywhere or do anything without thinking of him. And since you were alone and bored, of course you called him, and of course he came over with the promise of dinner after. But first – you were going to eat him. You locked the doors and shoved him against the wall. You were aware your sister probably had a security camera in place here, but dammit you could not resist him.

His taste, the fullness of his lips, the way his hard muscles trembled under your roaming fingertips. The boy liked to be kissed and you were happy to indulge him. You were slowly realizing that his alpha straight boy act was a cover too. You were always the one that pushed him back and lifted up his shirt, waiting for him to spar with you, but he just melted and let you take control. Surrendering to you came naturally to him. You rewarded him for his piety by tonguing his nipples while massaging his erection through his pants. He lifted his hips and moaned out your name, making your own cock ache.

There were glass windows on the storefront and you didn’t want anyone to call the cops, so you took him to the back room where there was a nice packing table waiting for use. You bent him over and got his pants down. That herbal spice body oil your sister created made for some damn great lube. It occurred to you that she should probably start selling it as such. You teased his hole with your slick fingers until he was pounding the table, begging for you to fuck him, but you waited until his cock was a tight, straining mess in your hands on the brink of spurting before you dove into him.

Your hands left oily marks on his hips as you set a relentless place, fucking him hard and sweet. You pressed kisses down his shoulder and licked the shell of his ear to make him insane.

The orgasm came far too quickly, and you wished you had a plug to hold in all the mess. You settled for cleaning him with warm, damp paper towels and kissing him until he was unmistakeably ravished. If it wasn’t for your grumbling stomachs, then you were sure you were going never going to stop making out with him. You reminded yourself to be careful and not go too fast, not taken advantage of him, because this boy just might be the love of your life and you had to remember he was a person and not just a vessel for sex, even if he wanted to be thought of that way. He had an amazing sex drive.

And taking care of your man meant feeding him after fucking him.
“Come on love, let’s get you some protein before we get carried away again. I much rather make love to you on a soft bed than a wooden table.”
And he gives you this heart-melting smile and slinks an arm around your waist. “Late night tonkatsu ramen?”
You groan. “Sounds fucking delicious.”
He kisses your cheek. “Not as delicious as you.”

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

There is praise I can never give you, for there are not words, or emotions, or smiles to convey how much I am grateful for you. You somehow, always, telepathically know when I’m at my worst. It’s usually after therapy, but sometimes just for no reason. Those are the days when the medication isn’t working, and I just can’t get out of bed. I don’t know why you want to be with a guy suffering from clinical depression. I mean, I love you, but it’s hard for me to show it. I don’t feel like I deserve to love you, or if I’m even loving you right at all, because I don’t feel many emotions. I mostly feel just negative ones. I always feel unworthy of you.

Yes, I know that release of endorphins and hormones from sex is healing and therapeutic. You know that making me have release can help wash my brain of the crap inside so that the drugs can move in and start working. I just struggle to initiate it. I mean, I struggle to lift my spoon. And yet you somehow, magically, see every time when I need it the most. You swap out my underwear for jockstraps while I’m showering and so of course, I put them on. I feel sexier that way, which enforces a positive body image. Still, I just can’t make myself go after you but you always, always come to me.

You climb into bed with me and pry me off of the pillow. You scoop me into your arms and kiss me, like I’m Sleeping Beauty. You make me feel treasured, and curiously flattered when your hand squeezes my ass. You rub against me and make me forget everything – how depressed I am, how deep in debt I am, how bleak my future is. You remind me that my future has you in it too, and just maybe, I can climb out of this hole.

Your embrace becomes this warm envelope of hope and humanity. You turn my sorrow into silk. For that, and all the ways you’ve supported me, I will always love you. And because of that, I have stopped thinking about suicide; because if the afterlife is absent of you, I do not want to go.

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Text is fictional. “You turn my sorrow into silk” is a lyric from giselle’s Silk. The Favored Nation’s remix is pretty good too. By the way, if any of you have suicidal thoughts, please call 1-800-273-8255 or your nation’s helpline.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“What are you thinking, Jessup? You’re always so quiet.”
“Cause I’m listening.”
“What are you listening to? The shower?”
“You. Your breathing. The way the water splashes off your skin, the sound of the loofah as you wash me..”
“Are you enjoying it?” I ask.
“Mmm very much. It’s so hard to find a lover, with me as I am, and I’m sort of wondering if I”m dreaming sometimes, having such a great guy like you in my life. In my shower.”
I chuff through my nose. “You shouldn’t put yourself down in that way. I look for a few things in my partner, and the biggest one is personality.”
Jessup grins. “Are you sure the biggest isn’t the cock?”
“I thought that was why you liked me?” I pretend to be offended.
Jessup laughs.

“Hey…Jason.”
“Hm?” I inquire.
“…Would you do something for me?” Jessup asks, putting the loofah back on the hook.
“Anything.”
“Take control.”
“…Are you sure? But you hate being caught off guard.”
“Jason please,” he begs. “Everyone is so delicate with me because I’m nearly blind. I’ve retorted by being as picky as possible. I’ve never given control to anyone. I want to know what it’s like. Be rough with me. Ravish me.”
“Christ, it’s turning me on hearing you beg.”
“Do it,” he growls.
I take a step back and examine my Jessup. He loves to work out, and it’s carved these delicious lines and rolling waves of muscle into the canvas that is his body. A strong illiac crest slides downward to the impressive, veiny cock jutting out. It’s a shame he can’t see his package because the set is damn gorgeous. And it is mine for the taking.
“….Jason?” he says quietly.
I push him back against the wall. Jessup gasps in surprise as he is jostled, then again as his back hits the cold wet tile. Before he can get out the second half of “more”, I’ve pounced on him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Our lips meet and duel, and then I slip my tongue. Jessup’s hands seek my body and I press my palms into his torso, helping myself to a handful of his pecs. How can they so firm, yet so soft? I suddenly get why straight guys like tits.
I pin his arm against the wall, and when I move his limbs as I like, Jessup giggles; he’s giddy. His hand finds my waist and he pulls me against him. Our half-hard cocks meet and Jessup arches up. I can feel a moan thrumming in his throat as I kiss him, relentlessly.
“Fuck yeah, more, Jessup more!” he asks, breathy and hopeful.
Our lips meet again and again. I pin him in place with my hips and my grip. We rock together until our cocks are stiff as wood and sharing heat by sliding against each-other. The warm water slides down my back and gurgles down the drain.

I reach back with my free hand that’s not pinning his arm back and seek his ass. I squeeze it hard enough to make him shout.
“This is turning you on,” I purr.
“More Jason!”
“I do think you have a date with my bag of ropes later…”
He shudders and pre-cum dribbles down his shaft. I swipe it with my finger and taste it, then reach behind Jessup again and stroke his hole which I just cleaned.
Jessup whimpers and clings to me. “Jesus, Jason, no one’s ever made me feel like this.”
“I’m happy you thrust me.”
“…Did you just say ‘thrust’ instead of trust?”
Jessup quiets and stills, then his body vibrates with laughter. It’s contaigous and soon we’re bent over in hysterics.

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Sex TBC. Text is fictional. I actually wrote “thrust me” instead of trust me and just went with it. These hotties are from Sean Cody, naturally.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I strolled into the kitchen, bright-eyed and busy-tailed, whistling the latest pop-tune. I always slept well at Cyrus’s house. His guest room mattress was really comfy. He had called me last night and begged me to sleep over. because he’d just had another break up another other hot guy. I didn’t need a second excuse. It was that, or stay and listen to my roommate have sex with her boyfriend. She was a screamer.

“Mornin, Benji.”
“Mooor~ning,” I replied. My eyes lingered on the outline of his cock in his tighty whities. I always thought it was adorable that he still wore them at his age. He needed to get on my level – jock strap undies. My gaze roved up his bare chest to…“Are you eating ice cream for breakfast?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.’
“Cyrus,” I clucked. “You can’t eat ice cream for breakfast.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s unhealthy. It has no nutritional value. It’ll make you pudgy.” I pried it out of his hands. He pouted, and hung up his head while twiddling his fingers in his lap.
“Aww baby,” I cooed.
”"Why did Mark break up with me? I really liked him.“
I put the ice cream back in the fridge. "He wasn’t good for you. I’m sorry he left you sweetheart, but you and I know he would have driven you crazy with his obsessive cleanliness.”
Cyrus thought. “I’m going back to bed and having a pity wank.”
“No you’re not. I’m making you breakfast, then we’re going on a hike.”
He blinked. “Why?”
“Because sulking and masturbation are short-term fixes. You need to get out, get some fresh air. Move on. You won’t feel any better wrapped in soiled-sheets with dairy curdling in your stomach.”
Cyrus screwed up his face and shrugged.

I dug around in his fridge. I pulled out some ham, his last eggs, and some spinach. I found half a box of waffles shoved in the back of the freezer. Cyrus sat there watching me make breakfast. Once in a while I’d hear an occasional sigh. I poured him a glass of iced tea from the fridge, and he sipped it mournfully. table.

When I was all done, I plated his meal and handed it to him with both hand. “Here you go. Scrambled eggs with spinach and ham, plus waffles and syrup. I put Sriracha on your eggs just like how you like it.”

Cyrus stared at the offering. He took it and smelled it. “Wow,  it looks delicious, thanks.” He suddenly sat up straight. “…Jesus.”
“What?” I asked, plating my own food and taking it to the table.
“I just realized something, Benji. I’ve been totally oblivious. Through-out all my break-ups, you’ve been the only constant thing in my life. You’ve been my best friend since day one of college, and even then you’ve always taken
care of me, just like you’re doing now. Mark said I was ‘distracted’,
and I didn’t know what that meant, but now I get it. I was distracted
because of you. Even when I’m dating other guys, I’m thinking of you. I
want you to come with me, to go out with me… At clubs or bars, I look for you,
hoping you’ll show up. I did it last night too!”
“Cyrus, don’t tease me.” My heart began to flutter. 

“You know, out
of all my boyfriends, not a single one of them made me breakfast like
this. Jake made me eggs once, but they were terrible, and they didn’t
have Sriracha. I’m sitting here whining and pouting, while you made me a big beautiful breakfast
with your butt half-hanging out of your underwear, like you’re god’s
gift to twinks, and Jesus, I never told you what a cute butt you have.”
I bit my lip. I could feel it quivering. "Cyrus, what are you saying?.”

“What I’m saying is…” Cyrus hopped off the counter, then set his plate and glass down on the table. He then walked over and put his hands on my shoulders.
“I’ve had this good thing this entire time, I was just too dumb to realize it. We should have been a couple a long time ago, Benji. Would you go out with me?”
I gave him my most radiant smile through wet eyes. “Absolutely yes. I never thought you
would ask me, and I would have to settle for unrequited love forever.”
“I’m
so sorry Benji,” Cyrus said, pulling me into his arms. “I’ve been ignoring
you, taking advantage of you. I’ve been such a jerk. And a dense one at
that.”
I wrapped my arms around his chest and buried my face in the crook of his neck. “No, it’s alright, Cyrus. Just because we’re both gay, doesn’t mean
that you should automatically fall for me, just because I did for you. I
just hoped some man would make you happy one day. It was killing me though,
watching them break your heart.”
“Christ, I’m sorry, Benji.”

We held each-other for a while, rocking back and forth. I was crying a little. Eventually, Cyrus dried my eyes with his thumb, then he lifted his head and kissed me. My knees went weak, just as I always hoped they would.
Cyrus tasted me again and then said, “Why don’t we go eat our food before it gets cold? And um, when we go on our hike together, you think we could call it a first date?”
“I’d like that, Cryus.”
“Me too.”

He squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. We sat down at the kitchen table together and began our future together. It was long over-due.

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Text is fictional. I wrote this entire story and then I accidentally lost it, so I had to rewrite in a hurry. Sucks. Lemme know if you find typos.