Tag: gay captions

by ccallenreese

storagegimp:

Tied up and gagged again ☺️❤️

Marcus came to check on Joe. “How are you doing?”
“Better,” Joe said. “But I every time I think of Todd I just want to punch him in the face.”
“Well. That’s a normal thing with Todd. The trick is to be able to have those thoughts without punching him in the face.”
“He needs a good punch in the face.”
Marcus folded his arms. “Well. Yes. But it never ends at that. You can seriously hurt or even kill someone if you punch them wrong. And it doesn’t take him down, it’ll just get worse. You know this. How many times have you been arrested or detained for fighting?”
Joe didn’t answer.
“Uh huh. You know. Learning to be at peace with your aggression is your salvation. Either that, or we have to start making some medical decisions about curbing your testosterone.”
Joe exhaled. “I know that. I hate it. I feel like the Hulk sometimes.”
“I’ll get better,” Marcus said.
“I’m glad you pulled me off him and put me in time out, Marcus. I was hoping you would. I’m scared I’m going to get dependent on that.”
Marcus made a noise in his throat. “That would be a problem. Maybe you need a shock collar.”
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t know,” Marcus said. “But I had another suggestion.”
“What?” Joe asks.
“I think enrolling you in some sort of martial art – an aggressive one like Brazilian Ju Jitsu or something – may help?”
Joe rolled on his side to look at Marcus. “How would sending me to fighting classes make me STOP fighting?”
“Cause it’d give you an outlet for your energy and aggression, but you’d learn how to control it and your strength. Learn some discipline. You work in an office. You don’t work out enough. You need an outlet. Something involving grappling.”
Joe thought. “That sounds kind of fun….”
“Better than a shock collar?”
“Yeah. Or being castrated,” Joe snorts.
“You know I’d never cut your balls off,” Marcus retorted. “I like to play with them too much.”
Joe laughs. “Yeah you do. You could get me neuticles or something though.”
“Oh dear god,” Marcus snorted. “Yeah no. Alright, I’ll look into it for you, boy.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome. You have another twenty minutes with your thoughts and I’ll come untie you for a break ok?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Think you’ll be calm enough by then? Todd’s long gone.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good boy. Holler if you need anything.”
“Could I get some water please?”
“Absolutely.” Marcus gave Joe’s foot a squeeze. “Be right back.”

Joe wiggled around for a moment and got comfortable again. Marcus was so patient with him. He felt more and more embarrassed about his out-of-control aggression every time he had to come tell Marcus what he’d done, head bowed, tail between his legs, bruises on his knuckles. But Marcus never punished him. Just disciplined him, or tied him and showed him stillness.
And for once in his life, Joe felt like he could be saved. He loved Marcus a lot. He never wanted to be a good boy for anyone before. But for Marcus, it mattered. He didn’t want to let him down. Did Marcus really think ju-jitsu would be a good outlet for him? Joe was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear Marcus come back with water and startled when he appeared in his peripheral vision.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

sodomymcscurvylegs:

unfriendlygayguy:

Me and the boys summoning a top

This is correct cause tops are demons

“Ok, so it says once our knees are over the circles on the floor, we have to join hands and say the chant with you repeating after me.” Joey starts.
“Will this really work?” John asks.
“It better,” Chris interjects. “I’m so fucking horny.”
“Can we summon a top with four dicks?” John. “He can fuck us all at once.”
Joey looks at the book. “That seems too advanced.”

Michael snorts. “His dicks would have to be so long to fuck us all at once.”
”Ew….” John says.
“Look, one dick is fine as long as he can USE it,” Chris says.
“Is the demon going to be white?” Michael asks.

“What?” Chris asks.
“I mean, we’re all white. Is the demon gonna be white? It’d be hot if he were black…”
”Uh, is that an option?” another says.
Chris. “I don’t care what color that dick is. Dick is dick.”
Joey flips through the book. “Look, we’re still new at this. Let’s make sure we can SUMMON a top first before try like, customizing it.”
John sighs. “Joey is right.”

Joey clears his throat. “Alright, let’s join hands.” Joey sets the book on his knee. After they join hands, Joey reads the Latin and his friends repeat after him. When the chant ends, the flames go out.
Several boys gasp. Everyone is frozen still, looking at each other, waiting to see what happens.

“Now…what?” Chris whispers.
John clears his throat. “I was sort of expecting him to like, come out of the floor…”
“That’s silly,” Michael says.
“So what were you expecting?”
“Well I –”

John is cut off by the sound of a knock at the door.

_______________________________
Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Giovanni strode into the kitchen in an outfit that cost over four figures from shoes to haircut. It was a lovely spring day. His houseboy had some jazz music on low volume playing in the background. A mimosa was already waiting on the table, next to a newspaper.
“Good morning, boy.” Giovanni sat down, tucked in a linen napkin, and briefed the paper with his glass in his other hand.
“Good morning, Sir. Sleep well?”
“I did, thanks to you boy. Your mouth around my cock is better than any sleeping pill.”
There was the sound of a fork being dropped. “T- thank you Sir. I enjoy servicing you.”
Giovanni suppressed a smile. “I enjoy it more than you.”
“That’s impossible, Sir.” The houseboy strode over and set down a small ramekin of cut fruit and half a spinach omelette. Giovanni liked to watch this. The houseboy’s dark skin made such a nice contrast to the white plates. Plus, his fingers were so long that every motion he made was so graceful and delicate. He seemed to float and flit with an ethereal grace that Giovanni loved. Giovanni sipped his drink and tried to keep his thoughts pure. He hated going to work with damp underwear.
The last plate arrived on the table. Giovanni set the paper down. “Boy.”
“Yes sir?” he giggled.
“What. What did you do the pancakes?”
“I got a star cookie cutter. Isn’t it fun? They’re banana caramel, your favorite.”
“That is my favorite. I just think the last time I had food in shapes, I was five. I’m a goddamn CFO now.”
The boy put his hands on his hips. “Are you telling me the CFO of Buenaco is too good for star pancakes his houseboy made by hand for him? Are you like some circle pancake food elitist?”
Giovanni gave his houseboy a ‘look’ but he did not have an answer for that. He honestly thought sometimes he should bring his houseboy to work and have him argue business deals, cause he’d win them all. Giovanni considered his breakfast. “They are pretty cute…” Giovanni admitted.
“You are a very serious man, Giovanni. Nothing wrong with having a little fun. When was the last time you had that? When you were five?”
Giovanni spread the butter around on the pancakes. “…Probably. My dad had me running bets for him by the time I was 6.”
“There you go. Eat you food before it gets cold.”
Giovanni really should have spanked that boy for his bossiness, but he kind of liked him a little sassy. Giovanni ate his food in silence. Shaped or not, they were goddamn delicious.

In the break room at work later, he was talking to another accountant and asked her. “Hey Sandra.”
She was eating a yogurt. “What’s up?”
“What would you do if your houseboy made you star shaped pancakes for breakfast?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh my god, that’d be so cute! I’d kind of die. I love quaint shit like that. ”
“Cause my houseboy did that this morning.”
“Awww really? I’m so jealous! Did you take a photo?”
“Uh, yeah I did.” Giovanni showed it to her. She snatched the phone out of his hand. “Awwww! Margaret look at this!”
“Hey! That’s my phone, where are you going with that??”
It took five minutes to get his phone back from being passed around the legal department. “It’s just pancakes!” Giovanni insisted.
“No, you don’t get it,” Margaret scolded him. “Your houseboy loooves you.”
“Loves me? But he works for me…”
That made Sandra and Margaret both giggle. “Does your brain process anything else but numbers?”
Giovanni put his phone in his pocket. “Clearly not.” He stomped back to his desk, still confused. Star pancakes means my houseboy loves me…?  He loves me…?
It filled his thoughts all day. I’m loveable?

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Captions are fictional. Oh come on, they are cute aren’t they?

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“So I dunno, I guess I could we should go, but it’ll eat up the time I have left here, and plus the drive itself is so long it’s almost not worth it for the time we’re actually there, and -oops-” Danny bends over to pick up my mail he’s dropped. “Especially with the cost of gas and everything, I–”

“Oh my god.”

Danny straightens up. “Oh my god what?”

“I just….I just… I uh. I just realized that I love you.”

Danny turns a little pink. “What?”

“When you bent over to get the mail, the sun was making the back of your ass and thighs glow and I thought you were so goddamn beautiful and confident and I realized how content I am spending time with you…and yeah, fuck.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m in love with you.”

Danny is now thorough red in the face and ears. “Why did you have to tell me this before my six week training session in Virginia?”

“I – I don’t know. It just popped in my head! But like, I dunno – like, maybe it’s because I want to make sure you come back.”

Danny sets the mail down and walks over to me. He cups my face in his hands. “I will be back.”

“Really?” I smile.

“Really. I was uh…hoping you’d ask me to come back, honestly,” Danny admits.

“Really?” I ask.

“Really,” Danny says. “But I’m not going to tell you I love you now.”

“Wait, why?” I ask.

“Cause I want to say it when I come back. Cause then I’ll definitely know.”

“You’re…not sure now?”

Danny caresses my cheek. “Honey, I think I’m still high from all the sex you’ve been doing to me. Need to let that fuck fog clear a little and think straight.”

That makes me laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed that my cock has cock blocked me.”

“Flattered,” Danny says. “Been some good times in this apartment. But I want to like, know, know. I want to know how it feels to be apart.”

I snake my hands around and cup his ass in both hands. “I’ll wait impatiently for six weeks to see you again and await your answer.”

Danny exhales. “I’m going to have to impatiently wait for you to handle my ass like this again. Christ, I’m gonna be so horny when I get back….”

“Maybe you should decide if you love me before your fuck fog turns into a frustration fog.”

Danny raises an eyebrow. “or maybe I just make a mould of your cock and use it as a dildo instead.”

“Honey if you wanted to do that, I’d pay for it! Shit’s hot!”

That makes Danny howl.

I smile. I don’t need him to tell me he loves me. I know he does. Just by the look in his eyes and the way he’s twisting my shirt in his fingers.

Six weeks later, I got the answer I hoped for, and began running the clock on when to propose.

_______________________

Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

You’re not super reiligious, but you agree that Sunday should be a day of rest. You make sure your boys have some time where chores aren’t a priority. You let them sleep in. You all make brunch together. You unlock them for cleaning and showers, and it leads to sex. You push their beds together and enjoy them both. No rules, as long as you cum before them. Afterwards, you let them relax au naturale unlocked, and discuss the book you all have been reading. Yes, reading. You encourage them to read and well, it’s like a private book club for just your house.  

One of your boys never had books growing up, his dad mocked him for it. The other one was more of a video game fan, but now they’re both readers. So you chat until you’re hungry, then it’s time to wash the sheets, have another shower, and have a snack.

Maybe a nap follows. Maybe more sex. But you always go for a walk in the evening, all holding hands.

You love your boys, and setting a day aside for them helps strengthen your bond as an odd sort of family. Since you started doing this, there’s been no more lashing out or tantrums and a big reductions in spankings. They communicate better and express themselves better. Plus, less complaining when you lock them up again.

Happy boys (and horny boys) are good boys.

__________________

Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

bumwhole:

Little bit of bum

You’re brushing your teeth when a moon appears in the part of the mirror where the fog has been wiped away. You turn and gaze at two round loafs of bread pressed against the glass. You raise an eyebrow as your boyfriend bounces his cheeks against the glass. You find it rather mesmerizing. Your boyfriend looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re watching.

You take a step forward and smack the glass where he’s standing. It made a loud noise as your palm connects with the hard surface. To your delight, he jumps anyway, although no contact was made. You chuckle. You spit out your toothpaste foam before you choke on it. You rinse and dry, and when you look over he’s still doing it, only it’s the front this time. His balls look super odd pressed against a flat surface.
You make eye contact with the young man through the opaque glass and run your finger in a straight line over where his shaft is, up and down.
He begins writing in the condensation with his own finger, but in order to do this he has to be writing backwards.
“W A N T Y O U.” He writes. The N is going the wrong way.
You press your palm to the cool surface. He presses his.

You smile in resignation. You slip out of your pajamas, open the door, and join him. Not much room in there, but you’re standing close enough together that it doesn’t really matter. 

________________________
Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vscotrip:

When you come home to quiet, your first thought is alarm. You expect chaos. Expected it. Embraced it. Adjusted to it. The new norm. You had gone on an errand to get groceries and diapers and like, a nice latte to go, because you had to get out of the house. You felt a bit guilty cause you know your husband felt the same way. But man you were about to go insane. There was fresh snow outside, so it was too cold to open a window. You needed the fresh air.

Thankfully the fridge was basically empty. You two had been surviving off the congratulatory casseroles from the adoption party. Spencer was smart. He suggested freezing a lot it so you could eat it when we needed it, prevent spoilage. Just one of the thousand reasons why you married him, and started a family with him.

Caroline wasn’t a newborn really, but she was still a baby. You were both pretty stunned you got a baby. The black gay couple new to parenting doesn’t get offered emergency placement babies first. Not in this town, no Sir. But you and Spencer got lucky. She had rare corneal issues and couldn’t see very well.
Future surgery was certain.

Years of medical bills and therapy lay ahead. So she got passed over. Spencer likes to say she was waiting for us. When we walked in the room at Child Services, she held her hands out immediately at the sound of his voice.

Of course her first two weeks home were rough for her. New people. New sounds. New place. New noises. She didn’t sleep regularly. So neither you nor Spencer slept regularly. She was always crying. You still loved her to pieces.

You set the (reusable) grocery bags on the mudroom floor and tilted your head. Not a sound. You kicked off your snowy boots, hung up your coat, and pushed your feet into your slippers. Not a sound at all.

“Spencer?” Silence. You walk into the living room and stop. You see legs – adult legs – sticking out of the playpen at a weird angle. You stare. You walk over. You burst out laughing and slam your hand over your mouth to not disturb them.

Spencer got Caroline to sleep. She liked being in the play pen, but could never fall asleep in there , but it seemed Spencer found a way to keep her satisfied and get her a nice nap. Good lord, is that precious. Of course you took a few photos. Good lord, what a good Daddy he is. His hands cradled her body. She’s out like a light. You watch them for a good ten minutes before you remember the milk and eggs are still sitting out.

You put away the groceries as quietly as you can. You tidy up. Get a load of laundry together. Reset. This is a marathon. Not a sprint. You’re a team. When Spencer gets up, you’ll take a nap. He’ll make dinner. The counters are clean and it’s ready to go.

You can do this, you tell yourself. You put your hands on your hips. Ok, but you are seriously cracking a window because god it is stuffy in here.

The window makes a creak.
“Daniel?” comes a dry voice.
“Yes Spencer?”
“Oh you’re back. Just wanna make sure no one’s breaking into the house.”
“Nah just getting some fresh air in here.”
“Good idea. Stuffy. I need ten more minutes ok?”
“Ok babe,” you say. “Love you both.”
“Love you too.”

You sit on the sofa and read that National Geographic you’ve been meaning to read, but doze off halfway through. Sometime later, you wake up to plantains frying on the stove. Spencer singing to Caroline in the kitchen. You drift in and out, listening to him sing along to the portable speaker, until he calls you for dinner.

Dinner was great, but the intimacy you and Spencer shared that night was even better. Amazing what happens when you have some energy.

________________________________
Captions are 100% fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

meninvogue:

Augusta Alexander photographed by Kosmas Pavlos

“Just, fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t get the offer. They were even making it sound like I did. Maybe I’m already burning out.”
“Hjorn.” I sat across from him on the window seat, my back to the window over looking 5th Avenue.
“What?” he grumps.
“We spoke about this before. It’s probably a good thing. Like your manager said, when you’re a new model you need to be everywhere, but as you get more of a profile going, you need to start crafting an image and niche of what you fill. This gives you value and helps clients find you. That company didn’t fit your image at all. You’re sexy and sophisticated. Cutesy isn’t your thing, and it’s better you didn’t get it. You need to focus on your shoot for the cologne today and on landing Balmain. That’s perfect for you.”
“And I love their style more,” Hjorn agrees. “That’s me.”
“Yes. Exactly. So don’t be too upset. Disappointed, fine, but not upset. You’re going to be huge. Especially if you get called back for that HBO show.”

Hjorn puts an arm on the back of the chair and leans back. With his knees spread, I can see up his robe a little. Just a little. He knows. “You know, Sylvie keeps asking me who you are to me. I guess as my manager she’s worried about people exploiting me as I get more well known. But I just couldn’t explain to her why exactly I like you around. And that’s why.” He points. “Right there. Because you tell me just what I need to hear, just like it is – not because you want my approval or for me to like you, but because I need to hear it. You don’t have secret intentions. You’re just my friend looking out for me. And even though we’ve been fucking since college, you’ve never tried to make it anything else. Which I don’t want right now. And I don’t have time for. And I never have to worry about your intentions. Cause you’d tell me.” Hjorn stands up and walks over to the bed in the other room. I stare at him for a stunned moment as my ears turn red.

I get up and follow him. “That’s…thank you? I mean, you are my friend. I just want things to turn out well for you.”
Hjorn sits on the bed. The corner of his perfect mouth comes up a little. “You are. Thank you. Now are you going to come over here and fuck me before Sylvie gets here or what? I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin from stress.”
“Oh absolutely,” I groan. I walk over to him and slide my hand up his robe. “Been wanting this all day.”
”You can have it.”
I pull the tie apart with my other hand. My mouth goes to his neck.
Hjorn whimpers and puts an arm around me. “Fuck, your hand…”
The robe falls open. I push him to the bed and kneel sprawled over his legs. His chest is a curved hill of barley, pale and dotted with freckles. I continue with his neck as I stroke him. His leg muscles tense and jump under me, and feeling his body squirm makes me so painfully hard.
“In me,” Hjorn begs with reedy gasps. “In me. Now.”
I have to detach myself from him to fumble for the lube under the pillow. I fumble to get myself out of my slacks. I fumble with the lid. It’s impossible to use lube without making a mess. I let the mess happen. I’m between his parted legs now. One finger goes in easily. The noise he makes sends goosebumps down my back. Hjorn fists the sheets. “More!”

I push in a second, but the third takes a moment. “You’re so taut today…you need to relax a little…”
“I can’t! I’m under so much goddamn stress it feels like I’ll never relax!”
“You poor thing. You’re gonna snap if you keep this up.”
“In!” he demands, louder and more angry. I love it. The fire in me is stoked white hot.
I guide myself inside him without giving him time to adjust. The sensation of him enveloped around me is exquisite. I bend over and return to tasting his neck. His thighs slam against my hips and I push past his point of resistance until my cock is against his prostate.
“Oh FUCK!” he roars. “Yeah just – there! Oh god, harder, do it harder!”
I obey him, thinking if I can just fuck him fast enough and deeply enough that for a moment he won’t be thinking of his modeling career or his life or that account he didn’t get. That maybe I can push all that stress up to the surface and it’ll be washed away when the orgasm breaks and the hormones flood. His body is wired tight, his nerves a tight bunch. He needs this, and not from anyone else but me.
I place one hand on the bed to steady myself, and the other curls around his cock. I’d forgotten about it. He moans my name and arches his back. “I’m close!”
Sometimes, when he says that, I like to stop and torment him a while with slow trusts and ghostly touches to his glans… but I think if I tried that today, he may actually murder me. I dig my toes into the floor and drive into him hard. “Take it!”
“FUCK!” he yells. We rut for an impossible moment until my lungs are burning and I’m sure he’s going to outlast me. “Fuck!” he wails again. Cum fouts all over his chest. He fists the sheets, pulling the flat out from where it’s tucked under the mattress. I heave breath against his shoulder as I empty inside him. All of it. The one place that the adoring public can’t see or get to. That spot is mine. It is marked.

Hjorn looks at me through half slit eyes but not really seeing me. His lips are so full and pink that I can’t help but kiss him. He lazily throws is arms over me and shares it. “Mnnn…” His knees fall to the side. My cock is too soft to stay in now and slides out. I rub it against where it’s been in him anyway. It’s warm and familiar and I don’t want to be far from it.
“Fuck…” Hjorn whispers.
I nuzzle his cheek. His scent is different. The acrid aura of stress is gone. I run my fingers over his chest. “You spilled all yourself out…”
Hjorn looks down, almost in surprise. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You did.” I rest down next to him to recover. I feel a bit dizzy.
Hjorn’s phone makes a noise. It’s been charging on the nightstand. He reaches for it. Fumbles it. Then holds it. “Sylvie wants to make sure I’m ready,” he groans. “She’s gonna be here in fifteen minutes.”
“She’s early,” I remarked.
Hjorn looks at his phone again. “…No, she’s actually running late.”
I look at my watch. “Jesus.”
That makes Hjorn laugh. It’s a beautiful sound. If bells could echo off wood, that’s what it would sound like. Soon I’m laughing too, just for the joy of seeing him smile. The furrow in his brow is gone too.

We get out of the shower just in time for Sylvie to walk through the door. She eyes me suspiciously as I help Hjorn with his belt as he works the buttons on his shirt. When she notices the hickie, she loses it, and I’m trying not to die of smothering laughter as she escorts him out, Hjorn waving off her concerns with a casual air of dismissal. God, that lad. Absolutely precious. He’s going to be famous one day.

I stay behind to recover and clean up the mess we hid under the duvet. Later that night, Hjorn calls me and tells me the director loved the hickie and kept it in the shoot, despite Sylvie’s objections. When the photos came out, we sure did have had a fun time reading the Instagram comments about them. Everyone thought they were from a woman.

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Captions are fictional. Not intended to portray the original model or his identity.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Uh huh.”
“I’m telling you it’s so annoying! He always tries to sit with me in the cafeteria, he’s like always waits for me when our Bio lectures ends, he gives me compliments, tries to buy me coffee, it’s sooo annoying.”
Jack can’t take it anymore and starts chuckling under his breath.
“What?” Henry huffs. “It’s not funny. I think he’s stalking me!”
Jack throws the dish towel over his shoulder and puts the dry mugs into the cabinet. “Henry. Dear. He isn’t stalking you. He wants to fuck you.”
Henry stares. “What?”
“That’s why he’s giving you so much attention, and hovering around you. He likes you. Especially the way you says he stares at your legs and your ass and always smiles at you. The way he tries to give you things. He wants you to like him. Poor lad probably has no idea how to just ask you to bed. I mean if he’s a sophomore like you, he’s what? Barely 20?“
“…He doesn’t want to fuck me,” Henry scoffs.
“He does. I think probably a lot of men on campus want your attention and you are missing it. You’re cute, you got long legs, long eye lashes. You’re adorable. Sweet, even.”
Henry blushes. “Am not.”
Jack makes a gesture and a facial expression that says. You’re doing it right now.
Henry harumphs and folds his arms.
“Look, I know I’m letting you stay here with me as kind of your…old gay wise mentor-”

Henry giggles. “I thought you were going to say wizard.”
“Ha! Yes. I am a powerful old gay wizard and you are staying here as my pupil in a very odd retelling of the Black Cauldron.”
Henry giggles more.
“But- what I mean to say is – I promised myself I would not cross any boundaries with you when you came to stay here. Although I wanted you very much when I saw you.”
Henry’s jaw lowers. “You did?”
“Yes. Very much. Lusted after you for quite some time I did. But it was just lust. And it would have ruined a good friendship. You’re worth more than just your fuckability Henry. I found someone my own age to bother, and I’m glad I did. I enjoy having you around the house and listening to your naive adorable problems as you come of age.”

“I AM of age! I’m 20!”
“Ohh my apologies. Not 21 yet though. So no.”
Henry sticks his tongue out.
Jack throws the dishtowel at him.
“Hey!” Henry laughs as he catches it. “But ..like seriously, you wanted to fuck me? Do you still?”
Jack considers Henry and shifts his weight on one foot. “It’s different now. You’re like a son or a little brother to me. It would be weird. You should be with guys your own age. Like this Brazos fellow. You should give him the time of day sometime. Or just your ass, if you want.”
“I thought you said I was worth more than your fuckabililty.”
“True. You are. But it’s up to you who gets that worth. And if you just want a rut, nothing wrong with that. Sometimes you just need good fucking. That’s why Grindr is a thing.”
Henry turns the dish towel over in his hands. “I suppose. I don’t know how I feel about Brazos though… I mean he is kind of hot, but I was so worried about him being a stalker I just never thought of him as more than that.”
“Well, give it some thought. And if he’s bothering you, tell him to leave you alone. Or ask him out. Or ask him to bed. Just…don’t lead him on. Or tease him. It’s cruel.”
Henry nods slowly. “Sage advise, gay wizard.”

Jack cracks up. “I’m going to have to grow a beard now and get some flowy robes.”
“I think you just found your new Halloween costume.”
“Ohhhh Henry that’s a great idea…”

Henry smiles. “Glad I could help.” He exhales. “Looks like I got some thinking to do between now and class tomorrow.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“For sure. I’m gonna go start on my homework.”
”Alright. Good luck with that.”

Jack watches Henry pop off the counter and saunter away in his sweater without pants on, teacup cupped in his hands. God he has no idea what men think of him does he… I can’t wait for that day when he figures it out. Christ, I need to call David. I need to get off.

_____________________
Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

everydaysagreatday:

“Hey…you came.”
Courtney yawned. “Of course I did. I had to give you your blanket back.”
“You didn’t have to,” Alec said. “You could have kept it.”
“I want to. But my parents would know it’s yours. My mom asked you about it on the first day. She’d get suspicious about why I have it.”
Alec sighed. “But if you give it back, it means it’s over. I don’t want you to go.”
Courtney pressed his lips together to keep his chin from trembling. “I don’t want to either. Dad’s got this whole schedule for the trip…” he waved his hand and trailed off.
Alec swallowed hard.
Courtney sniffled. They leaned forward and shared a soft kiss, almost not daring to touch at all. Courtney held his denim jacket closed with his fingers to ward off the morning chill. Birds chirped as dawn broke over the desert.
They parted.
Alec watched Courtney fold the blanket and pass it over.
“Here. I’m sorry it’s not uh, clean, I think it still has some of our.. you know on it…” Courtney scuffed his foot in the dust.
Aelc took it and held it to his chest. “I don’t care. That night we spent under the stars was beautiful. Nothing about it is gross to me.”
Courtney smiled.
“I still wish you would keep it though. Cause then I had proof that you were here. Cause once you leave it’ll be like it never happened.” Alec paused. “Fuck.”
Courtney hugged him. Alec crushed him back.
“I’ll give you something else to remember me by before I leave. And I’ll write.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”

Alec exhaled. He looked over his shoulder. “My shift is going to start soon.”
“Then I guess this is good bye?”
“Well… Good bye then,” Alec said.
Courtney scuffed his foot. He looked down and turned to walk away.
Alec couldn’t bare it after three steps. “Court?”
Courtney turned halfway. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Courtney’s mouth parted. The words stuck to his dry lips and it took a second to loosen them. “I love you too.”
Alec’s face lit up.
Courtney ran back to his family’s RV, laughing with giddiness.

Later that morning, when they left the camping park, Courtney sat in the back of the camper as it pulled out of the entrance to the RV park. His parents were up front, dad was driving. There were no separate lanes, just a wide dusty path for big turns. Courtney could see Alec was up ahead; he had come out of the welcome booth to watch them go. Courtney got on his knees and squeezed his arm through the slight gap in the window, as far as it would go, hand clutched around something. When the timing was right, Courtney jerked his elbow and a small rectangle went flying.

Alec dove for it. It bounced off his fingertips but he barely caught it before it hit the ground. When he parted his hands, his jaw dropped. It was Madonna’s new cassette tape. The one they’d listened to in the portable, that night, under the stars. They’d talked about it for an hour after. It had blown Alec’s mind. Alec rarely got new music; his family only went to the city with the music store like once or twice a year. Alec clutched his treasure to his chest and watched the RV go until it was just a cloud of dust.
There was a tiny corner sticking out of it. He pushed his tears away and opened it. Inside was a white scrap of paper. On it was Courtney’s address and three words. “I was here.”

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Captions are fictional. I’m almost certain this is somewhere near Joshua Tree.