by Harper Logan
I squinted at her. “Like what?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything. Go sit with Mikey and Kim and… Calvin.” She finished her sentence meaningfully, but I wasn’t picking up whatever it was she meant.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket as she left. Time to figure out what she was talking about.
20
Nineteen—Calvin
“Psst!”
It took me a moment to register the fact that Adam was talking to me—or hissing at me, rather. I was a few beers deep, and since I’d noticed he’d disappeared from the party a while ago, I’d been a little worried about him. Or else I’d been glad he was gone. Either/or.
His expression was so horrified, I couldn’t blow him off like I instinctively wanted to. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Come here,” he said, holding his phone with the tips of his fingers like toxic waste. “You have to see this.”
I balanced my overfilled plate on a palm. At this point, it was stacked with more food than I could eat in a week. I’d just been heaping more and more onto it to avoid returning to that uncomfortable conversation. Smashing hoes? It was amazing Dan was married, because he talked like he was still in ninth grade.
“So? What is it?” I asked when he’d pulled me into the house.
Mikey and Kim’s back hallway was quiet and dark, the perfect place to push the guy you loved against the wall and kiss him passionately.
Stop that. He doesn’t feel like that, I reminded myself. He might be receptive to the kiss, but not to the declaration of love that would inevitably come along with it.
“This following we have,” he said. “Our fans. They’re not just on YouTube. Apparently even Tiffany is one of them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re on forums,” he said, pressing his phone at me. “I mean, they made a forum to talk about us. And if you thought the YouTube comments were bad, well…”
I scanned the page. It was a pretty detailed forum, I could see that at first glance. There were at least ten different smaller message boards within the larger Homiemoon board. One about me, one about Adam, and several with names I didn’t understand right away.
“I don’t see the problem,” I said. “It’s a little weird to be internet famous for not doing much of anything, but what can we do?”
“No, you’re not looking.” He grabbed the phone again and blew up the text. “‘Fan Videos. Yaoi/Slash.’ Do you understand these words?”
“None of them.”
“Then let me explain.” He clicked the Fan Videos link. “People have been making their own videos out of our videos. Ones with the kind of plot they want to see.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Just watch.”
He hit Play on one, and my heart lurched in my chest as soon as it started. I heard the chords of a familiar song, but I couldn’t identify it at the moment. I was too caught up in staring at a picture of Adam and I as Beasley students, arms slung around each other in our football uniforms. We looked about twenty.
“Where’d they even get that picture?” I breathed.
“These people are serious,” he said. “They dug up everything. Old pictures, articles about the team, anything that could make it look like you and I are together.”
“What?”
Adam was silent, and now I could identify the song. I Will Always Love You.
“What the fuck,” I breathed, staring at the screen again as the video played more clips of us through the past decade. I’d forgotten half this stuff existed, and I never would’ve guessed it was out there on the Internet for anybody to find.
“It’s fucked up,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. They must have spent crazy amounts of time putting this stuff together.”
“This video isn’t all?” I asked.
“It’s not even the top one in its category!”
I rubbed the back of my neck. The video was showing more recent footage now, stuff from the trip. Feeling like a fool, I watched as I stared lovingly at the camera. But then they’d come up with a clip of Adam doing the same. And they spliced them onto the screen so it looked almost like we were staring at each other.
“These people just love the idea of us together,” Adam said. “It seems like they’ll go to any length to make it look like we’re in love.”
His voice caught on the last word, and I wondered… but no. He was straight. It’d been an experiment. One that was over now.
“I can’t watch this anymore,” I said, pushing the phone away. “What was that other thing on this site? Do I even want to know?”
“Maybe not,” Adam said.
He made as if to put the phone away, and I grabbed his hand—sparks shooting through my entire body from the point of contact. Fuck, it’d been so long since I touched him. Too long… But that was how it’d be from now on. Touching wasn’t something we did anymore.
“I feel like I have to know,” I said. “Show me.”
“All right, but you asked for it.” He went back to the main list of subforums. “These top ones are just about us individually—some stalker-level shit, if you ask me. They dredged up every little detail they could find about our lives, our jobs, our exes…”
They must not have found much on that subject—and they’d probably had a field day with that fact. Had they managed to find out about my anonymous hook-ups from years ago? Or, God, about the fake girlfriend I’d made up in college?
I promised myself I’d read through it all later. “But that’s not the thing that has you all worked up, is it?” I asked.
“No, that’s… this.”
He opened the page to the Yaoi/Slash board. This time, I could make no sense at all of the subject lines on the page. There were these weird titles like “Quarterback Mountain” and “Homie Heaven.” Each was followed by a number and some other words in parentheses.
“It’s fiction,” he said in a low tone. “People have been writing stories about us. And lots of them.”
“About us, as in…”
“About us being together.” He looked even more somber. “Romantically.”
Great, just great. I clicked the first one my thumb hit and skimmed through it. The grammar was atrocious, and the writer didn’t skimp on any details of the encounter they’d imagined for us. I scrolled faster. Still, my breath caught in my throat as I caught a stray word or a snippet of dialogue.
“This is…” Horrible. Violating. Unbelievable. Amazing. “Weird,” I finally said. “This is really fucking weird.”
If things were different, this could actually be funny. If both of us were straight, we could read through this stupid shit and laugh about it over a beer. We’d make fun of the grammar and joke about how neither of us would ever talk that way. No way, bro.
Or if he was really gay, if we could actually be together, we could watch the videos and hold hands, musing together about how some Internet strangers had managed to figure out that we were in love before we’d even managed to. We could read the stories in bed, amused at first but then getting into the spirit and turning to each other…
“I know it’s really bizarre,” Adam said. “You okay? You look a little green. I’m sorry if this was too much for you to see. I just figured you should know.”
I handed the phone back to him, careful not to touch his skin. “I kind of wish you hadn’t shown me this.”
I needed air. Water. I needed to get out of here.
I raced for the door.
* * *
As usual, Buddy instantly picked up on my mood. He was anxious and irritable as we walked around the block, and he stuck to my side when we got back to the apartment. I had to push his head out of the doorway just to get into my room alone.
I sank down on my bed, already pulling out my phone. Getting away from the party had made me feel a little better, even if I’d have some explaining to do later. But the Homiemoon forum hadn’t left my
mind since Adam showed it to me.
Who were these people who took such interest in our lives? Had Adam said Tiffany was one of them? I opened the website, looking for any hints about our fans’ lives. Were they gay men? Women? Both?
Before I could hunt far, I got sidetracked by the fiction section. It may have been masochistic, but I couldn’t resist the urge to take a closer look. There were so many stories, and judging from the titles, they were pretty varied too. How had Adam and I inspired so many people to write?
“The Thing” sounded like a good one, and it was only two thousand words. Apparently it contained PWP, whatever that was. I clicked and read, my pulse speeding up as I saw the first line.
Calvin and Adam had only been friends for five months when The Thing happened. They were in the locker room after a game, Adam taking a long time in the shower for whatever reason, Calvin dawdling in order to talk to him. Everyone else had cleared out by the time Adam finally emerged in his towel. At twenty, the only word that could be used to describe him was “splendid.”
“Splendid? Really?” I said out loud.
His entire being radiated youth and vitality. He had the muscular frame of a football player, paired with the innocence of a virgin. And even though Calvin had always suppressed his impulses with regards to other men, believing they were perverse and unnatural, today he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Adam’s supple, lithe body.
Okay, now they were getting a few things right. I did remember what he’d looked like back then—similar to now, although with more definition in his muscles and less subtle aging in his face.
I preferred the current version of him. Maturity suited him, and he’d only gotten better with age. This story was making me nostalgic, though. I should probably just put it down…
“Yo, dude,” Adam said, looking surprised when he saw Calvin. “Still here?”
“Yeah, man. I wanted to see you. Sit down.”
Calvin’s throat was dry, but he knew he had to say this. He’d been thinking about it way too long. How many times had he rehearsed this exact scenario mentally? He was prepared for any reaction Adam might have—whether good, bad, or violent.
“You did great out there today,” Calvin said. “Really impressive.”
“Thanks, dude,” Adam said with confusion.
“I thought after all that, you might want to blow off some steam.”
“Huh?”
Everything was going according to Calvin’s script. Still, he was more nervous than ever.
“Look, I know you haven’t had time to date this term. Or last term. I figured you’d be, uh…” Even with all his practicing, he stumbled. “Horny.”
“I am,” Adam said.
“If you’re interested, I could, well…” Calvin was too shy to get the words out.
“Are you offering to blow me?” Adam asked.
Thank fuck. He’d understood. “Yes,” Calvin said, and got down on the floor.
What the fuck was I even reading? As if I ever would’ve made Adam such an offer! As if he ever would’ve accepted! Did this person have any idea how actual people decided they were going to fool around? It’d happened nothing like this in real life!
I should’ve stopped there. I should’ve known the effect the story was going to have on me. But apparently I wanted to torture myself, because I kept going.
Adam pulled his towel open, spreading his legs wide on the locker room bench. The smell of sweat and testosterone invaded Calvin’s nostrils. As he brought his head closer to Adam’s crotch, those were drowned out by the scent of Adam himself—sweet yet masculine and completely overpowering.
Although shocked this was all happening so easily, Calvin wasn’t about to say anything and break the spell. He glanced at Adam’s face one more time, getting a nod of assent, and then he took both hands to Adam’s half-hard cock, massaging it into a rigid erection.
Well, this wasn’t accurate at all… but it was extremely fucking hot. Without even thinking about it, I’d reclined on the bed and my hand had found its way into my boxers. Freeing my cock, I stroked myself to someone else’s fantasy about me.
Adam was tense, but as far as Calvin could tell, that was only because of his arousal. Judging by his hardness, Adam was pretty damn into what Calvin was doing to him. Calvin only wondered why he hadn’t suggested this sooner. He could’ve been blowing Adam regularly through the entire school year.
At a soft sound of impatience, he brought his lips to Adam’s tip and sucked it gently into his mouth. Adam gasped louder now, his fingers gripping the bench on each side. Calvin tasted salt—whether it was Adam’s sweat or pre-cum, he didn’t know. He sucked rhythmically, moving his hand in sync with his mouth.
He’d never given a blow job before. All he knew was what he’d seen in porn, but based on Adam’s reaction, his technique seemed to be working. Adam’s hips were moving off the bench, pressing his cock deeper into Calvin’s eager mouth. Calvin liked the way it slid along his tongue, sometimes even hitting the back of his throat. And he definitely liked the way Adam let out the occasional gasp or groan.
My hand made its way down my aching length, and I struggled to keep my eyes fixed on the little screen. This wasn’t just a story. It was bringing up real memories, and they were fucking sexy. I could hear those gasps and groans of Adam’s echoing in my ears as if they were happening right now.
Pleasuring Adam got Calvin hard—so hard, he could barely see straight. His hand ventured down between his legs, and he took hold of his rod. Soon he was just as worked up as Adam. His need for oxygen caused him to pull away from Adam’s cock, and he sucked in a few deep, ragged breaths.
Calvin had only wanted to take the edge off his lust, but now that he’d touched himself, his desire overpowered him and he found himself masturbating in earnest. He stared at Adam’s cock, taking in every detail of the long, thick, and veiny length.
Knowing he was supposed to still be pleasing Adam, he made the effort to take that cock back into his mouth. But his urgent need was too strong to keep it up. He gave Adam a few soft licks instead and then gave in altogether, burying his face in Adam’s groin and inhaling his masculine musk as he brought himself closer to a furious release.
His hand had never felt so good, yet also so frustrating at the same time. He wanted more than he could provide for himself. And even as he rushed toward climax, he knew it wouldn’t be the head-spinning finish that he wanted.
When he felt Adam move under him, he looked up sharply. Was his friend going to walk away? Had his need to stroke himself off caused Adam to lose interest? He mentally prepared himself for his orgasm to be ruined altogether.
But Adam didn’t leave. He got down on the floor right next to Calvin, and after guiding him to lie down on his open towel, he positioned himself between Calvin’s legs.
Adam couldn’t be doing what Calvin thought he was doing. Adam was straight—wasn’t he? This was only a way for him to let off some steam, after all!
Adam’s fingers wrapped around Calvin’s shaft, his lips closing over his cockhead, and Calvin let out a low-pitched scream. None of his fantasies had been bold enough to let something like this happen. He had no mental preparation for this turn of events. And even if he did, he suspected he’d still be losing control.
Adam’s mouth felt too good—Calvin couldn’t think clearly. He thrust up, hips juddering with the force of his lust. Adam took it without the slightest problem, no sign of choking or gagging. Calvin wondered briefly if this could be his first time sucking a cock. Maybe it wasn’t—maybe it wouldn’t be the last time, either.
The thought of doing this again with Adam sent Calvin spurting deep into his mouth. Now Adam coughed, but only for a millisecond, and then he was taking Calvin deep, swallowing everything Calvin was giving him.
Calvin knew he had to sit up and make his way between Adam’s legs, finish the job he’d started there. It wasn’t an obligation—he wanted to—but for a second before he moved, he stayed o
n his back, lost in thought.
In the post-orgasm clarity, Calvin wondered why he’d been so sure Adam was only experimenting. He’d accepted the offer pretty quickly for a “straight” guy. The way he’d eagerly returned the favor to Calvin was further evidence that he might be gay or bisexual.
Adam hadn’t said anything either way about his sexuality. Calvin only had his actions to go on. And as it happened, those actions were painting a pretty clear picture.
Calvin’s head spun with visions of the two of them doing this together again. Not in a locker room, but in a bed, or maybe a car. He pictured them doing other things—kissing, touching, going all the way together. Even doing couple things, and having the whole world know about them.
And as he knelt between Adam’s thighs again, a broad smile came across his face.
Back in real life, my hand had stilled on my cock even though I hadn’t come. A frown dug down my eyebrows.
I’d never told Adam how I felt. I’d only made assumptions about what he wanted.
Was I just like this fictional version of me?
And could Adam possibly want more than just fooling around?
21
Twenty—Adam
Five o’clock Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. I’d been in a bit of a daze all week, going through my work functions on autopilot and spending my free time alone.
Well… alone with one or another of my Internet-enabled devices. I returned to the Homiemoon forum so often, it’d become my number-one most-visited website. Sometimes I forced myself to click away from it, and then out of habit I’d just open it again.
It was becoming a bit of a compulsion. I felt like I had to watch every video posted on there, and read every discussion post and fictional story. The amount of new stuff was tapering off, but at its peak the site had been pretty popular. I hadn’t gotten through all the old stuff yet. Especially because I kept going back to the ones I liked.
