Page 33 of Heteroflexible

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Bobby sits up suddenly, his back to me. He sits there, silent.

I quirk an eyebrow, studying his tense back. “What’s wrong, dude? Don’t make a big deal out of it. I just wanted to … make you feel good, that’s all.”

“This isn’t …” Bobby’s back muscles contract, his head bowed. “This isn’t some fuckin’ game to me, Jimmy. This isn’t some …” He struggles to find the words. “I’ve been single a long time, man.”

“I know.”

“Like, a fucking long time.”

“I know, dude, chill.”

“So it means something to me when …” He sighs. “… when you go and … and kiss me like that.”

“I just wanted to make you feel good.” I put my hands behind my head and lean back on the bed, staring up at his back, which swells and slowly deflates with his every breath. “That’s it.”

He doesn’t say anything.

My legs are half hanging off the bed, my thigh near his hip. So I give his side a nudge with it. “So?” I prod him.

“So … what?”

“So did it make you feel good?”

Bobby takes a minute. Then he peers only halfway over his shoulder, but his eyes still don’t meet mine. He doesn’t respond.

“Well? Did it?” I ask again.

He licks his lips absently, his mind seeming somewhere else. And then, almost distractedly: “Yeah.”

“Good.” I sit up right then and slap a hand to Bobby’s bare back, startling him and making him snap his eyes to mine, wide open. “That’s all that matters, isn’t it? It felt good. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Bobby stares back at me, clearly unsure of what to say.

There’s a part of me that loves how freaked out he is.

I mean, who knew that with just a few kisses, I could have my buddy’s mind twisted up with so much excitement and pleasure that he doesn’t even know what to say?

There is another part of me that’s worried I’m crossing a line I’ll never be able to uncross.

A part of me that feels like everything changed between us in one reckless instant.

And that’s a part of me I’ll blissfully ignore for now.

I slap a hand onto his firm, muscled thigh. “Tell you what. You went and got all comfortable, so I’m gonna go do the same. Then you and I can watch TV all night long and chat about what a bad idea tonight was and laugh it all off, alright?”

He takes a minute to sort a thought or two. He doesn’t look finished when he absentmindedly mutters, “Yeah, alright.”

With that, I leave him there on the bed and head for the bathroom. I peel off all my clothes, splash water on my face and in my hair, dry off with a towel, then tug on a loose pair of gym shorts I tucked away in my suitcase.

Coming out of the bathroom, I find Bobby exactly where I left him: sitting there on the edge of the bed, lost in his head. He looks up when I come out of the bathroom, and his eyes drop to my bare chest. He has this totally blank, adorably faraway look on his face.

“C’mon, let’s cuddle up,” I say as I hop right back onto his bed and lean against the headboard. “It’s our night, now!”

Bobby glances at me over his shoulder. “Uh … what?”

I reach out and grab him without warning, then pull his body up against my side. After throwing an arm around him, I’ve got him held against me in half a hug, cuddling him. He seems to have a second of confusion before he finally gives in, resting his head back on the headboard next to mine. Nestled on the bed now, we stare at the TV as it plays some nearly-muted game show at us.

During the commercial break, Bobby breaks the silence. “You got your prized, banged-up truck.”

I turn to him, confused. Our faces are very close. “What?”

“On your sixteenth birthday. The one your family forgot.” He looks my way, too. A corner of his lips curl up. “That was the year you got your prized, banged-up truck, remember?”

The memory clicks. “Oh, yeah. You’re right.”

“Guess it pays to be Jimmy Strong,” he teases flatly. “When a birthday is forgotten, the bastard gets gifted a truck.”

I smirk. “Having car-envy now, are we?”

“Nah.” Bobby picks at his fingers, then shifts his weight next to me. “I don’t mind walkin’ everywhere, or being driven around by you. You make a decent chauffeur.”

“Do I? Just decent?”

“Yeah. You just need to do one more thing and you’ll be the perfect chauffeur.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

He eyes me. “Lose that damned ratty-ass hat of yours.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Never.”

Bobby stares ahead at the TV, giving up his sudden fight with a soft chuckle. I peer at the side of his face, moved suddenly by all the emotion that’s passed between us tonight. It’s something new, yet feels like it’s somehow been there since forever.


Tags: Daryl Banner M-M Romance