potency. He hadn't blended it with a lot of tobacco, and it was some quality shit. Sweet, strong. Immediate effect.
Fuck…yeah…
I leaned back, closed my eyes, and took another drag. This was better than alcohol. My age had gotten in the way of fun. Back in the day, I smoked a lot of weed, but then I'd grown up.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Better than I have in a couple weeks," I admitted. Cracking one eye open, I found him watching me. "This ain't becoming a fucking habit."
He grinned, his eyes a little glazed.
I liked seeing him happy.
The shadows under his eyes were back, though. My damn fault. I closed my eyes again and took a pull from the joint, and I held it. I held it until troubles faded and my nightmare was plain desire.
"Nicky asked me out."
Of course he did. Julian was a good-looking guy.
I turned to him, and yeah, he really did look good. I hadn't paid attention to his appearance before. Not a lot, anyway.
I took a final drag before leaning forward to put it out. "What did you say to him?"
"That…that I'd think about it."
I side-eyed him. No more bullshit. "Why have you been hiding that you're gay?"
Despite being high as a kite and halfway to Drunkville, he looked worried and ashamed. "Can we talk about that another time? I'm feeling all right for the first time in ages."
Fair enough.
I wanted to know eventually, though.
"I'll be right back," I said. I wanted to change into sweats and a T-shirt, and I needed to clear my head.
Julian returned to watching porn, and I escaped to my room. But nothing worked. The images from the dreams I'd had about him were back, and now there was nothing repulsive about them.
I washed my face and stared at my reflection.
Dating Nicky… Yeah. A guy his age. It was perfect. But fuck it if it didn't irritate me. I missed Julian. I wanted just a little bit more—a bit closer. As if squeezing him to me could bring relief. It was fucked, but it was how I felt.
"I'm screwed," I muttered to myself. I stripped down, took a leak, and then I turned on the shower. If I didn't sober up, I'd go too far, and I needed to let this go. Maybe find a woman. Someone I could fuck, hold, and take comfort from. It didn't sit well with me, but it seemed like that was the best option.
Except…not.
I showered quickly, the water cold, and it worked a little. Unfortunately, my thoughts were as fucked as ever. Sobriety didn't change the fact that I ached to get the aforementioned comfort from Julian. Whichever woman I put in that position would be a replacement.
As I yanked on a pair of sweats, I warred with myself. I'd become a masochist for it. Logic told me space was good. Logic told me I was just deprived of touch, and my desires would change if I got what I needed elsewhere. But my heart didn't agree. Julian wasn't a mere convenience.
Lastly, my body… What my body ached for was fucking obvious, and for better or worse, I had a past of listening to it. Even when I shouldn’t. Perhaps especially then.
I threw the towel in the laundry basket and left my room.
Julian was still on the couch watching porn, but the movie was new, and I couldn’t say he didn't have a physical reaction anymore. He was leaning forward and shielding his crotch, and his face was flushed. He couldn’t look away from the two dudes fucking on the screen. Well, he did glance over at me once, making me question my choice not to wear a shirt.
"Isn't this something you should watch in private?" I asked, resigned.
Like I'd said, I was screwed. I would fuck shit up sooner or later.
"Most likely," Julian replied. "You can always tell me to shut it off."
Nice try, kid.
He was not throwing a goddamn challenge in my face, thinking he'd get away with it. Whatever reaction he wanted, I wouldn’t give. We both knew when push came to shove, my balls were bigger. I didn't need weed or alcohol to speak my mind.
No, you only need it to numb out your entire life.
"I don't give a fuck." I tossed the notion
Fuck…yeah…
I leaned back, closed my eyes, and took another drag. This was better than alcohol. My age had gotten in the way of fun. Back in the day, I smoked a lot of weed, but then I'd grown up.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Better than I have in a couple weeks," I admitted. Cracking one eye open, I found him watching me. "This ain't becoming a fucking habit."
He grinned, his eyes a little glazed.
I liked seeing him happy.
The shadows under his eyes were back, though. My damn fault. I closed my eyes again and took a pull from the joint, and I held it. I held it until troubles faded and my nightmare was plain desire.
"Nicky asked me out."
Of course he did. Julian was a good-looking guy.
I turned to him, and yeah, he really did look good. I hadn't paid attention to his appearance before. Not a lot, anyway.
I took a final drag before leaning forward to put it out. "What did you say to him?"
"That…that I'd think about it."
I side-eyed him. No more bullshit. "Why have you been hiding that you're gay?"
Despite being high as a kite and halfway to Drunkville, he looked worried and ashamed. "Can we talk about that another time? I'm feeling all right for the first time in ages."
Fair enough.
I wanted to know eventually, though.
"I'll be right back," I said. I wanted to change into sweats and a T-shirt, and I needed to clear my head.
Julian returned to watching porn, and I escaped to my room. But nothing worked. The images from the dreams I'd had about him were back, and now there was nothing repulsive about them.
I washed my face and stared at my reflection.
Dating Nicky… Yeah. A guy his age. It was perfect. But fuck it if it didn't irritate me. I missed Julian. I wanted just a little bit more—a bit closer. As if squeezing him to me could bring relief. It was fucked, but it was how I felt.
"I'm screwed," I muttered to myself. I stripped down, took a leak, and then I turned on the shower. If I didn't sober up, I'd go too far, and I needed to let this go. Maybe find a woman. Someone I could fuck, hold, and take comfort from. It didn't sit well with me, but it seemed like that was the best option.
Except…not.
I showered quickly, the water cold, and it worked a little. Unfortunately, my thoughts were as fucked as ever. Sobriety didn't change the fact that I ached to get the aforementioned comfort from Julian. Whichever woman I put in that position would be a replacement.
As I yanked on a pair of sweats, I warred with myself. I'd become a masochist for it. Logic told me space was good. Logic told me I was just deprived of touch, and my desires would change if I got what I needed elsewhere. But my heart didn't agree. Julian wasn't a mere convenience.
Lastly, my body… What my body ached for was fucking obvious, and for better or worse, I had a past of listening to it. Even when I shouldn’t. Perhaps especially then.
I threw the towel in the laundry basket and left my room.
Julian was still on the couch watching porn, but the movie was new, and I couldn’t say he didn't have a physical reaction anymore. He was leaning forward and shielding his crotch, and his face was flushed. He couldn’t look away from the two dudes fucking on the screen. Well, he did glance over at me once, making me question my choice not to wear a shirt.
"Isn't this something you should watch in private?" I asked, resigned.
Like I'd said, I was screwed. I would fuck shit up sooner or later.
"Most likely," Julian replied. "You can always tell me to shut it off."
Nice try, kid.
He was not throwing a goddamn challenge in my face, thinking he'd get away with it. Whatever reaction he wanted, I wouldn’t give. We both knew when push came to shove, my balls were bigger. I didn't need weed or alcohol to speak my mind.
No, you only need it to numb out your entire life.
"I don't give a fuck." I tossed the notion
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