The Road to Amazing

by Brent Hartinger

  Remember when I met Nate, and at first I thought he was really hot? Then he said those annoying things, and I told you I didn't think he was hot anymore?

  That might have been another little lie. I never really stopped thinking Nate was hot. I just thought he was kind of a jerk in addition to being hot.

  Nate kept strutting around. He was camping it up, not taking the striptease seriously, but that didn't necessarily make things any less sexy. If anything, it might have made it even sexier, because I could sort of pretend it was all a joke even as I was watching his every little move.

  Then, once again in time with the music, he tore the top of his scrubs completely off, throwing the whole thing to one side. He was shirtless now, revealing toned arms and a lean torso that tapered down toward the shapeless, crumpled paper-like material that made up the bottom half of his scrubs (but not so shapeless and crumpled that I couldn't make out the bulge of his ass).

  Suddenly I was face to face with Nate's abs. The ridges and muscles reminded me of a kaleidoscope — everything twitching and shifting in sync. Nate was a doctor now — in residency, I think. Weren't they supposed to be so incredibly busy? If so, how could he possibly have time to body-sculpt his abs like this? Somehow I hated and loved those abs at exactly the same time. They even sparkled with this little sheen of sweat.

  "Oh, God, my eyes!" Kevin said. "Nate, you were my roommate!"

  He ignored Kevin and kept strutting and/or dancing. Nate had definitely rehearsed this thing, at least a little.

  On one hand, I agreed with Kevin: this was incredibly awkward. It was Kevin's best friend, and I had a very strict personal policy where I made a point not to lust after friends, or friends-of-friends, even when they were very hot.

  On the other hand, Nate had an amazing body, lean and tan and toned. I may have briefly noted his body before, in that wetsuit especially. Now I was seeing more of him than I'd ever imagined I would, short of walking in on him in the shower.

  Nate kept dancing, closer and closer, smiling seductively, but also doing that thing strippers do where they pretend they're ignoring you, even as they have to be aware that you're watching their every little movement. I noticed for the first time that he was barefoot, and somehow his feet were sexy too.

  Outside the rain kept falling, heavier now, and I could hear it trickling down windows and splashing out in the yard, even over the music. That made me realize how Nate's striptease had made me start to sweat (not surprisingly), so it sort of seemed like the perspiration was coordinated with the water sounds, like it was trickling down my body.

  Nate stopped, standing tall with his feet solidly planted, still wearing only the bottom of his doctor scrubs. He finally met my gaze, then Kevin's — greeting us both with this sly grin and half-nod.

  Then, in one sudden flurry of movement, he bent over, yanking down the bottoms of his loose scrubs. He stepped out of them as effortlessly as if he was wading in a pond, then he simply tossed them to one side.

  I literally held my breath, not certain what I would see next. I mean, it wasn't like he'd really be naked, right?

  He stood upright again, and I saw he was wearing a green Speedo. (Most American guys didn't wear Speedos for bathing suits, but I guess they were still pretty common in Australia, so it made sense that Nate would have one.)

  He wasn't naked, but the Speedo, well, let's just say it didn't leave a lot to the imagination. It also looked surprisingly, um, full.

  "Right on!" Gunnar shouted, and Ruby, Min, Otto, and Vernie all whooped it up. Min and Gunnar clearly knew about Nate's striptease in advance, but he had to be taking it a lot more seriously than they expected. Somewhere along the way it had gone from campy fun to outright sexual.

  Nate sauntered closer, not really dancing now, but languid, seductive. Was he going to give us a lap dances or what?

  "I can't look," Kevin said, covering his eyes, and Nate laughed (and even his laugh was somehow Australian).

  Nate straddled me. His bulging crotch was right below eye level, which was absolutely ridiculous. I could see the ridges and bulges of exactly what was packed in his Speedo, the position it was all in and everything.

  I can actually feel the heat of his crotch, I thought.

  Legs wide, he lowered himself down farther. He definitely was going to give us lap dances!

  I was laughing — this was, after all, still a big joke. Or was it? That line was rapidly being blurred.

  Outside, the rain still splashed, harder now, and my whole body was slick with perspiration.

  Nate's ass pressed down against my lap — specifically against my crotch. I'd never had a lap dance before, especially one from a guy, and suddenly I was understanding what all the fuss was about. Needless to say, he'd long since given me a boner — basically, I had a railroad spike in the front of my pants. I mean, the only thing coming between my dick and Nate's ass was a couple of layers of clothing.

  Nate kept grinding himself against my crotch, even as he started running his fingers through my hair. Every now and then, he lifted himself upright, and I felt the bulge of his Speedo graze against my stomach. There was even less material between him and me there. It was almost sensory overload!

  The rain was still splashing outside, and I heard a sudden gush, like a clog had broken somewhere, maybe in the rain dispersal system, and all the water had rushed out, but in my mind, it sounded like something much naughtier.

  Remember a couple of pages ago when I said I had a strict personal policy where I didn't lust after friends or friends-of-friends? You knew that was another lie, right?

  I was nervous. The whole idea of this being a joke was now shot completely to hell. Nate absolutely had to know that he'd given me a boner — he had to feel it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was specifically aiming for it. But it still didn't quite compute. How the hell did a straight guy know how to give a lap dance to another guy anyway? And why would a straight guy give a lap dance to a gay guy, even at the gay guy's bachelor party? I'd been a teenager at a time when having a straight guy knowing you thought he was hot was a really bad thing.

  But Nate wasn't horrified. On the contrary, he seemed to be enjoying the effect he was having on me. He wasn't necessarily turned on — trust me, I was close enough to the bulge in his Speedo that I knew his degree of arousal almost exactly (it was still jiggling and not yet twitching). But he had a sly, evil grin on his face, and I remembered that these days, a lot of straight guys loved the attention they got from gay guys. They liked the idea that they could be sex objects.

  Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Nate stood up again and stepped back. I wasn't sure what to do about the railroad spike in my pants, but I was pretty sure it was disguised by the crease in my jeans, and if I leaned forward to cover myself, that would only call attention to it.

  Nate worked his way over to Kevin, dropping his hands around Kevin's head, running his fingers through his hair too, then sinking down onto his lap.

  "Oh, God, I can't believe this is happening," Kevin muttered. "Someone please kill me now!"

  But Nate kept at it, grinding and flopping his crotch against Kevin's stomach like he'd done to me. Everyone laughed and cheered.

  Below Nate, Kevin shifted in his chair ever so slightly, and I knew Nate had given him a boner too. But that didn't stop Nate, who lowered himself all the way onto Kevin's lap.

  Nate smirked, incredibly pleased with himself that he'd inspired the desired response in Kevin — that he'd basically conquered Kevin and me both.

  But then Kevin flashed his own evil little grin.

  As Nate writhed and grinded on his lap, he leaned forward and licked Nate's torso. It wasn't a little lick either — it was long and slow. His tongue was a creature with a mind of its own, slowly worming its way upward until it zeroed in on Nate's nipple.

  Naturally, everyone went absolutely nuts for that.

  "Oh, my!" Vernie said.

  For a second, even Nate was taken aback, but
he recovered nicely, pulling Kevin's face into his chest and grinding some more.

  (And can I just say? Watching my fiancé-and-future-husband lick and nuzzle the sleek, neatly trimmed chest of his hot Australian friend was breathtakingly hot. I hadn't expected this — it hit me a little like a freight train — and I immediately thought, "I wonder what exactly this could mean for our future marriage.")

  Finally, Nate pulled away, not quite as cocky-confident as he'd seemed before. I was farther from Nate's bulge now, so I no longer had an exact read on his degree of arousal, but I think he enjoyed those lap dances a bit more than he expected, especially after Kevin licked his chest. I guess this whole straight-guy-letting-gay-guys-openly-ogle-him thing was sort of new territory for everyone involved.

  Nate kept dancing, a bit more frenetically now, maybe wrapping things up.

  Meanwhile, all this continued to unsettle me. What did it all mean? What would it be like around Nate now?

  Outside, the rain still fell, and something creaked, then snapped — probably a tree branch breaking in the torrent of water.

  Something snapped inside my head too.

  What's the big deal? I thought.

  I said before that a line had been blurred, but had it really? It's not like Nate had gotten drunk and crawled into bed with Kevin and me. This was a bachelor party. The whole point was to be fun and carefree and, yes, even sexy on the night before your wedding.

  It's possible — possible! — that I had a tendency to over-think things, especially things like hot boys in well-packed green Speedos grinding into my lap.

  Nate kept dancing, back to his straight-boy strut, even hinting that he was going to pull down the whole Speedo and giving us a flash of his pubes.

  I wasn't nervous anymore. Now I was only having fun.

  "Talk about doctors without borders!" I said, and the whole room laughed.

  We all clapped and hooted a minute more, then Min finally lowered the music, and Nate took a bow, then turned to shimmy back into his doctor-scrubs.

  Everyone applauded, and Vernie fanned herself, saying, "I haven't been this hot since menopause."

  After that, we broke for snacks and drink refills. (I stayed seated, for obvious reasons, but somehow Kevin managed to stand.)

  As everyone was complimenting Nate, Vernie slid up next to me. "I hate to say this," she said, "but that was another movie moment."

  "You think?" I said.

  "Oh, absolutely. Who would've guessed Nate had that in him?"

  "You have a point."

  "But mostly it was the expression on your face. That's what made it a movie moment."

  I was about to protest, but I knew it was pointless. I was the one behind the terrified expression, and even I could tell it had probably been priceless.

  Behind us, Otto called to the crowd. "Hey, we're not done yet! Everyone get back in here."

  So, clutching snacks and drinks, everyone wandered back into the front room. Kevin joined me again, and I looked at him as if to say, "Now what?" but the fact is, we were both enjoying this.

  With Kevin and me back in the two chairs in the middle of the room, Min punched up something else on her iPhone: cheesy game show music.

  "It's time for the Been Together Off And On For Ten Years And Are Finally Getting Married Game!" Otto announced to the room. Then he added, "Also known as the Newlywed Game. How well do Kevin and Russel know each other? Tonight we'll find out!"

  Kevin and I glanced at each other again. How well did we know each other?

  Actually, I thought, pretty damn well. I wasn't worried.

  Min cut the music, and Otto handed Kevin and me dry-erase boards and pens, and quickly explained the rules. He was only talking to a crowd of five people, but he was remarkably polished and confident. Which I guess made sense since he was a professional performer.

  Finally, Otto turned to us and, "Are you ready?"

  Kevin smiled coolly. "We've got this down," he said, and I nodded.

  "Well, now you're just challenging fate," Min said.

  "Okay, first question," Otto said. "Let's start with an easy one." He read from a list on his phone. "Write down who each of you think the other would say is the hottest Disney prince."

  "Hottest Disney Prince?" Ruby said, confused. "You mean, like, Aladdin?"

  "Yes, but he's too geeky," I said.

  "Wait," Ruby said. "Is this, like, a gay man thing?"

  "Are you kidding?" Min said. "Animated Disney musicals and handsome princes? It's a total gay man thing."

  "Just Disney?" Nate asked. "Not, say, Pixar?"

  "Like who?" I said. "The old man from Up? The rat from Ratatouille? Pixar doesn't do sexy, at least not sexy men. Neither does Dreamworks."

  "But Disney does?" Nate said, fascinated, and Kevin and I nodded at the same time.

  "Totally," Otto said.

  Kevin scribbled something onto his board, then looked at me expectantly. Everyone was staring at me now.

  I had to think. I knew who I thought was the hottest Disney prince, but I had to consider who Kevin would pick.

  "I can't believe this," Vernie said from the audience. "He procrastinates even when he's working with the medium of dry-erase! Boooo! Get with the game, Middlebrook!"

  I smiled, then wrote something on the board.

  "Okay," Otto said. "Russel first. Who did Kevin say you would say is the hottest Disney prince?"

  "There's not even, like, a question," I said. "It's Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid. Have you guys seen those online photos where someone turned the animated characters into actual faces? They're all hot — well, except for the guys in Frozen, but that was sort of the whole point of Frozen, how the princesses didn't need a hot prince to be happy. But Prince Eric? He's the hottest."

  Smiling smugly, Kevin flipped over his board, and it read, Prince Eric.

  I grinned, and people clapped gamely. But honestly, it really was so obvious I don't know how much credit we deserved.

  "I didn't even know the prince in The Little Mermaid had a name," Ruby said to no one in particular.

  "Okay," Otto said to Kevin, "who did Russel say you'd say is the hottest Disney prince?"

  "This is difficult," Kevin said, "because I did have this brief thing for the older brother from Big Hero 6."

  "Tadashi?" Otto said. "But he's not a prince."

  "True," Kevin said, "but it doesn't matter anyway, because in the end, I think he knew I'd say Flynn Rider from Tangled. Who is a prince by the end of the movie. And also a total hottie."

  I flipped over my board. It read, Flynn Rider.

  "Yes!" I said, fist-bumping Kevin. "We're two for two!"

  Ruby looked at Min. "They've really given this 'prince' thing a lot of thought, haven't they?"

  "I told you," Min said. "Gay guys are crazy. Russel once told me he had a thing for Danny Phantom in that old Nickelodeon cartoon."

  Otto sighed dreamily. "It was all about the snark."

  "See?" Min said, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

  Outside, the rain picked up again, washing across the roof in waves. Obviously, the rain didn't remind me of perspiration (or something naughtier) anymore. But I was a little worried that it would be freaking Kevin out — that he'd be obsessing about flooding or something. I looked over at him, but he seemed to be keeping it together, smiling and casual, not even noticing the rain.

  "Okay, next question," Otto said. "Write down the item of clothing of yours that your future husband most hates."

  Kevin and I eyed each other skeptically. But honestly, this was another easy one.

  We both scribbled something down.

  "Russel?" Otto asked.

  "His metallic blue hoodie," I said.

  Kevin flipped his board. Blue hoodie, it read.

  "Seriously, you guys need to see it," I said. "It's horrible. It looks like the shell of a beetle."

  "It does not," Kevin said, pretending to be wounded, but actually giving the audience exactly what it wanted.


  "Kevin," Otto said, "what does Russel wear that drives you crazy?"

  "He keeps wearing his socks even when they have holes in them."

  I flipped the board. White socks, it said.

  We did another fist-bump. The fact is, we were killing in this game. We really did know each other well.

  That was a good thing, right? On the other hand, I couldn't help but think: If we knew each other so well, did that mean our marriage was going to be boring? Walker, the old man Min and I met in Amazing, had said the world needed more mystery. Well, didn't marriages need mystery too, at least to stay interesting? If I was being neurotic about this whole "wedding" thing, this game might have caused me to start seriously pondering this. But I wasn't being neurotic, as I've already told you, so this was really more of a fleeting thought.

  Otto started to ask another question. "A meteor is heading right for your house..."

  "Ask something dirty!" Ruby called.

  "Really?" Otto said. "Two questions in and we're already moving on to sex?"

  "The first question was about Disney cartoons, but they managed to turn that into sex," Nate said.

  "Said the guy who was just dancing around in his Speedo," Kevin said.

  Everyone laughed, and it was all pretty funny, but it did occur to me — another totally passing thought! — that Kevin's and my relationship was so predictable it wasn't even keeping our best friends entertained.

  "Okay, okay," Otto said to the group, "the pervy public has spoken." He scanned his list. "Here we go!" He turned to Kevin and me. "What is the naughtiest place the two of you have ever made whoopie?" He looked out at the audience. "That's how they put it on the Newlywed Game, right? They say 'making whoopie' rather than 'fucking'?"

  Everyone laughed again while Kevin and I wrote our answers on the dry-erase boards.

  "Kevin?" Otto asked. "What did Russel say?"

  "The picnic gazebo," he said.

  I flipped my board, and it read, Stinky picnic gazebo.

  "Russel?" Otto said.

  "The stinky picnic gazebo," I said, and Kevin flipped his board so it read, Picnic gazebo.

  "Public sex?" Vernie said. "I'm shocked." She turned to Min, sitting next to her. "We can only hope it was at night."