The Firehouse by Heath Grayson

Author:Heath Grayson [Grayson, Heath]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Connor wasn’t awkward the next morning, but I was. When they say sleep on it, you’ll feel better, they don’t say you could feel worse. I did. My simmering anger when I heard him come in had bloomed into white-hot pissed off after the sun rose.

Here’s the thing. I knew damn well I didn’t have any reason to feel that way. Connor did nothing wrong. I pushed our sex play to a place he wasn’t comfortable with, and while he might have enjoyed it in the moment, the immediate aftermath was too much.

There were thousands of reasons he reacted the way he did. From what he’s said about himself, he might be okay with the male-male sex play, but what we did was something more. It was one of my most intimate sexual encounters. Maybe he felt that too, and it made him uncomfortable. Not so much about me, but about himself. Or he could just like dick, and getting his sucked, but kissing a guy was gross. I didn’t know and didn’t care.

I wasn’t rude, but I wasn’t pleasant either. Before we left for work, Connor said, “Alright, man, I’m gonna be busy the rest of the week, but maybe we can grab dinner like Wednesday or Thursday?”

He could tell I was upset, but instead of asking me about it, like a grown-up, he flashed an uneasy but still stomach-butterfly-inducing smile.

Likewise, instead of just telling him what was wrong like an adult, or better yet, not letting myself get upset about something that wasn’t upsetting, I just said, “Got a lot of shit to do with work. But maybe. If not, I’ll see you Saturday at the ball.”

His smile got a little less butterfly-inducing. He nodded and left.

I got less than shit done at work that whole day. By lunch, the hot, bright part of my anger at Connor had dissipated. Leaving me with a cloud of upset—half at him and half at myself. Or, maybe just at myself, which I blamed him for.

I had accepted that I liked Connor way more than a friend, and I probably had for some time. All of my bellyaching about whether Connor would want to have anal sex with me, and my perceived inability to do so, was just me not wanting to admit how much I liked him. It was obvious then, but sitting in the cafeteria at work, it was crushing.

So that’s where I was. I liked Connor, and I guess, unfortunately, he did not like me back. That’s what it was. His lack of feelings for me was less concerning than me liking him in the first place. I didn’t want to like him. Because he’s an unserious fuck boy who might have good taste in cartoon shows. But mostly because he’s a he.

Yeah, okay, so just the mere thought of him ejaculating all over me, and me all over him, did, in fact, make me come, but I wasn’t gay. I just wasn’t straight, either. If I were honest with myself, I would’ve known that years before I met Connor.

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