Curious

by Seth King

  The wedding group is already being drunk and belligerent, though. I can barely deal with this whole crew anymore even when I’m sober, and when I see stupid Lane in his suspenders and red baseball hat, I feel like hiding. But we can’t be too rude, so we spend ten or fifteen minutes enduring him shouting at passing women and hollering for no reason at all. Can this dude even survive without taking up all the space in an area, or what? Is anyone else ever allowed to get a word in?

  Finally, I feel the familiar pull of Beau drawing me in, and we veer off the main square and follow some sounds to a ridiculously cool flamenco-type restaurant in a brick courtyard. People are dancing like they actually know how to dance, and the air smells like flowers and vines and tequila. A waiter sits us in a corner, which is secluded but also unfortunately next to a leaky faucet. But the small plates we order make up for the dampness – the food is amazing, every bit of it. I feel something starting to shift between Beau and me – our dynamic is changing. We’re not really hanging out as friends anymore. It feels closer, more personal, but also a little awkward at the same time. Actually, if anything I am behaving like I’m on a date…because what first date isn’t awkward?

  And then I gasp and realize what this is – I am on my first date with my best friend in the world.

  We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  “Hey. You know we’re closer to Havana than we are to Miami right now?” I ask soon. “That’s why there’s such a strong Cuban culture here. I’ve been reading all the tourist guides.”

  “Ugh,” he says quietly as he drinks his burgundy wine. “You’re so smart. I hate it.”

  “So are you, Mister Dean’s List.”

  “After the last year of whoring and partying?” he laughs, and a light dances in his eyes that is downright offensive in its cuteness. “No, sir. Not anymore.”

  “Call me sir again,” I say quietly.

  “Why?”

  “Because it was fucking hot.”

  His eyes change. The wine slides around in my stomach, and mixed with the lights and the music and the way his leg muscles look in his khaki shorts, I’m feeling a little bold. Who cares if someone sees us here? We’re strangers in a sea of tourists…

  So I put my hand on his leg.

  “Wow,” he says. “Really?”

  “Really. Who cares?”

  “I mean…”

  “I know we’re friends,” I say, seeing his hesitation, “and I know it could go badly, but who cares right now? Anything could happen. Right?”

  “God,” he says, staring at my mouth for some reason.

  “What?”

  “I just really want to fuck your ass right now.”

  “Whoa,” I say, sipping some wine again with bug-eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s feeling bold tonight.

  “Seriously,” he says, desire in his voice. “I want you so badly. Here, I’ll guide you. This is what I want to do to you.”

  He puts a hand on mine (which is already on his leg), slides it upward, and before I know it, our hands are sliding up places where no hand should ever slide in public. Together.

  Oh, I think. Well, then. This is new.

  Then he leans into me, putting his lips almost against my ear. (Thank God we’re in a dark corner and almost totally out of sight.) His stubble against my lobe combined with his low, breathy voice in my ear is enough to make my whole body go numb.

  “Let me fuck you,” he says. “Long, slow, romantic. Please? I need it so badly.”

  “What is this?” I ask, smiling. “Who are you becoming?”

  “I don’t know any more than you do.”

  I sit back, my head spinning at all this. “Seriously...”

  “What?”

  How do I say this? We only have a few days left here. What are we going to do when we have to go back to the real world, and…and this maybe falls apart? It could be awkward forever...

  Finally he returns his back to his chair and frowns a little. Realizing I’m killing the mood with my self-doubt, I try to regroup. I screw up my face and decide to bring up the MSM thing.

  “Hey. This is kind of common, did you know that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A lot of straight guys are hooking up with each other on the down low these days. I know it sounds weird, but there’s been an epidemic of it lately – a lot of sociologists are even studying it.”

  He smiles, then looks away with a blush.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I never told you this, but remember that dude, Ryan?”

  “The one who did crew? Yeah, why?”

  “He asked me to do that. He used to hint about it a lot, actually.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “We were suitemates freshman year. If we’d ever end up drunk in the common area late at night, he’d mention how he would get with guys sometimes, just to ‘blow off steam’ and ‘relieve stress’ and stuff. I never really thought much of it. He wasn’t the first guy to hit on me, that’s for sure…”

  I glance away. “I don’t want to know. I’ll get jealous.”

  “Sorry. We never did anything. But anyway, the thing that struck me as strange was that Ryan was so…straight. He’s even married to a girl now, but I’ll still get a late-night text every once in a while where he’ll ask me to meet up. And I really don’t think he’s gay, either – I think he just enjoyed penis sometimes. I mean, girls do stuff with each other all the time…”

  “I know.”

  “What do you think about it?”

  I sip some wine, then swallow. “I think…I think I would risk anything to feel how I’ve felt the last few days, Beau. That’s all I know for sure. …What about you?”

  He pauses, then clears his throat as the candle-light dances across his beautiful face. “I feel like…I feel like I was riding in a plane and I just got pushed out the door.”

  “So I’m killing you?” I laugh.

  “No, Nate. You’re making me fly.”

  For a moment I can say nothing. He has knocked me senseless.

  He looks away, swigs some wine, and smirks.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “When you talk to me this way, it just…turns me on. Even more than before. Not in a dirty way, but in a…sensual way.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper. “Liking you makes me horny.”

  “Good,” he murmurs. “Don’t think that just because I’m not experienced at this, doesn’t mean I can’t still do things to you that will make you forget you’re alive.”

  I freeze. “And what, exactly, would you want to do?” I ask quietly, almost fearfully. His eyebrow trembles a bit, but just a bit.

  “Things that are not usually done in Hemingway novels, let’s just say that.” He lowers his voice and makes sure nobody can hear. “But…are you sure you’re ready to switch off and take my dick? It’s a big one…”

  My insides jump, but I nod.

  “Good. Now get the check, please. I can’t wait any longer for you.”

  Beau Lindemann

  We’ve barely made it into the room before I am smothering him in kisses. I don’t want him to be able to even get any air right now, just to kiss me. Just kiss my lips. That’s all. Oxygen is secondary when you’re feeling as bright and as bubbly as this. I know it goes against our pact, but there can be no fighting a level of The Feels like this. Fuck the pact.

  Obviously, though, I also want him physically, not just romantically. I just feel like our bond explodes to new heights whenever we’re doing sexual things, deepening our emotional connection in the process. So with that in mind, I push him down on the bed face-first and command him to slide off his shorts.

  “Yes, baby,” I say as I watch him. “Yes…”

  Damn, his hole is looking good as he bends over for me. The backs of his legs are covered in a light sheen of blonde hair, and the slightly sweaty smell from today is just making it all better…

  I lean forward and kiss him right on his hole
, spreading his cheeks as I do it. He responds with a full-body shiver. “Damn, I can’t wait for this tight little hole to be mine.”

  “Fuck yeah, dude,” he moans. “Play with it. Ugh, I love this.”

  I lick around for a few minutes, and soon he’s leaning all the way into the bed, groaning as I explore him.

  “You ready for my finger?” I ask. “I licked you to open it up. Shouldn’t burn as much this time.”

  “How are you such an expert already?”

  “…Um, I fucked Alyssa in the ass.”

  “The girl from last summer?”

  “That’s her.”

  “Ugh. I hated her,” he says.

  “Why?”

  He looks back at me. “I don’t know. I just did. And yeah, I’m ready, fuck me. Just be careful with me.”

  A smile stretches between us, twin grins twisting our lips. “Oh, you know I will.”

  I kiss his hole again, deeper this time. Every time we hook up it makes me bolder and braver. At first I couldn’t even really admit I liked this – now I am getting more and more secure in my attraction to him. And the attraction is just growing stronger and more volatile…

  I push out his legs and eat him out. He is pink and a bit hairy, but not much – and fuck, I love this even more than with women. I used to fucking love to eat a good, pink, tight pussy, but this is so much better. The sounds he makes, the way his face contorts with joy – fuck.

  I slide on a condom, then lean into his ear as I lube him up. Most people think missionary is the most intimate position, but for some reason I want to fuck him from behind while laying on top of his back – this gives me access to his neck and shoulders and ears, my favorite parts of him. And not to mention this view of his perfect ass…

  I lean in and whisper one last thing. “I don’t want to fuck you, by the way. I want to have sex with you.”

  Then I grip him by the shoulders and push myself in.

  “Fuck!” he cries.

  “What?”

  “Dick…too…big…must…slow…down…remember, I’ve never done this…”

  Some impulse drives me to suddenly lean in and kiss his head. “Okay, sorry, babe. You got it.”

  He looks back. Our eyes meet as mine bulge out of my head. What was that?

  “Oh, sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t be sorry. Your dick is already in my ass. It’s okay. Now fuck me.”

  Slowly I thrust once, then twice, taking a moment to soak in the fact that I am fucking my best friend. This plump ass, this tight back, it all belongs to Nathan Sykes, and the dick I’m seeing plunge into him right now? That’s mine. We’re really doing this…

  “How do you like it?” I ask Nate, nipping his ear.

  “Fuck, I’m getting used to it…here, let me finger you, it’ll make you feel so much better...”

  “Better than I do right now?” I grunt. “Impossible.”

  “Just wait,” he says, reaching back and around. “I’m gonna play with your G spot. I just Googled how to reach it.”

  I feel a tightness, a pinching down there I’ve never experienced before, and then bam – I feel him in me, and it is a revelation. Then he does this strange movement, and the sensation is only heightened.

  “Fuck. Ugh, yes, finger it. Finger my ass...”

  Suddenly my mind fills with a series of images. European frescoes on cathedral roofs, full of angels and sunbeams and celestial clouds…choirs full of exalting children in gigantic churches…the most beautiful sunset in the world, multiplied by a billion…

  That’s how good his finger feels against my prostate. Tell me, again, why in the living hell we ever waited so long for this?!

  My dick is in him, his finger is in me, and my tongue is in his left ear. I hold my breath and then accidentally bust then, images of heaven filling my mind, and then he does the same onto the sheets. This time, though, I lean over and slurp up just a bit of it. Then I kiss him.

  “Don’t think you were going to get away from that,” I laugh into his mouth. “I’m officially going to taste you every time now. Just accept it.”

  “Trust me,” he pants, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem…”

  And soon we fall asleep around our wet spots, both of us sickened with the knowledge that in two days we will have to start making the biggest decisions of our lives…

  free

  from the diary of Nathan Sykes

  you are

  the best thing

  I have ever found

  in this imperfect world

  you belong

  in the most perfect of lands

  you belong

  somewhere you can fly

  in free, clean air

  but I know

  you’re scared

  of what is happening

  between us

  and you deserve

  the space to soar

  without having to worry about

  who’s watching you fly

  so darling

  I know you’re hesitating

  and if your own heaven

  isn’t with me

  I’ll set you free

  I’ll watch you fly

  and I will smile

  because the only thing harder than seeing you leave

  would be holding you here

  and knowing

  I am the thing

  holding you down

  and keeping you

  so far from

  your own heaven…

  Nathan Sykes

  The squaw of a seagull wakes me, gently but wonderfully. I open my eyes and see the curtains flowing in the breeze from the open glass door, and Beau is standing on the deck with his arms against the railing, holding some coffee. Beyond his tanned shoulders stretches the pastel sea, and above him, palms fan out into the sunlight. I roll over and feel myself smile. Sometimes I used to wake up already dreading the day; wondering what drudgery the world had in store for me. But today, I feel alive from my toes to my eyeballs. My limbs are nimble and free, and my eyes and brain are clear. I feel like I just woke up from a sleep that lasted years. Where have I been?

  And how can I make this feeling last forever?

  Of course, duty calls soon. We’re supposed to get our tuxedos at this formalwear store across town, and while I don’t want to have my solo time with Beau intruded upon by all these boorish, ignorant dudes, c’est la vie, right?

  We all pile into a big van, and Lane passes around a flask containing an alcoholic liquid that is brown and warm and completely disgusting. I’m sitting directly next to Beau, which doesn’t bother me at all – and when I study him I decide it doesn’t seem like he cares, either. After all, we’re still best friends – this shouldn’t be any different from our usual behavior, right? Nobody will notice anything weird.

  Except it doesn’t stop there. Soon his hand falls on mine, which is on the seat with my fingers open. I just smile and breathe, comfortable with the knowledge that this is exactly where I need to be, and exactly who I need to be with. So what if I’m not sure if Beau is meeting me one-hundred-percent right now, mentally speaking – right now, this feels perfect.

  Then something terrible happens: in the split-second before he takes his hand back, Lane spots us and turns bright red before glancing away.

  I want to think this is nothing, but the damage is done. We’ve been spotted. Soon Lane’s eyes lock with mine again, and I am positive that I see a smirk on his face. Oh, fuck. He was the last person I ever wanted to deal with. But at the same time, I know I can’t just ignore him, either…

  “So…” Lane says at the tuxedo place, when we’re alone. My face goes red.

  “Yeah? So, what?”

  “You know what,” he says, stone-faced. “What was that earlier?”

  “I…don’t know what you mean.”

  He smirks. “I thought I saw you…hmm, never mind.”

  I swallow. “No, you can say it.”

  “You were touching Beau. Yo
u were kind of…holding hands.”

  I keep my face impassive. I won’t let him win this. “It’s interesting that you think you saw that,” I finally say.

  “Yeah? So…what’s the deal?”

  I stare straight ahead. I know how to deal with guys like this – they want me to play along, to prove to them that I’m just another one of the guys.

  “Are you guys…I mean, are you…a thing?” he asks, half-jokingly. I’m sure my face is the color of his big red plastic watch, but I just shake my head. I feel no shame about this, but at the same time I’m in no position yet to go around talking about it. Especially not when I don’t even know what “it” is…

  “We’re not a thing. But…”

  “Yeah?”

  I swallow. “Even if we were, maybe we wouldn’t say anything.”

  “What?”

  Be strong, Nathan Sykes. Don’t lie. There’s no reason to lie here.

  I turn to him and put on the “bro factor” and pretend it’s all a big joke. “Dude. We’re on vacation. Maybe things happen…maybe we’re sick of Tinder girls ditching us for someone else every time their phones buzz with a better match. Yeah?”

  “But…”

  “But nothing,” I smile. “People mess around all the time. It happens.”

  “Gotcha, then,” he says, with the most patronizing wink I have ever seen. “Just be careful. We are from the South, after all…”

  I try to ask him what he possibly means, but by the time I can form words, he’s already gone.

  My pulse picks up. I can’t tell Beau because I don’t know what to say, so I don’t. But what does this mean? And what does he want from us?