You Deserve Perfect (LGBTQ+)

1

It all started with the sudden realization that my boyfriend is hot.

He invited me to play basketball with his friends. Now, I'm not really a sports guy, more like a faint-at-the-idea-of-running guy, but I had to say yes for a holy purpose: I didn't want to study.

It's not that weird dating someone almost three years older than you, but finding yourself surrounded by his grown-ass men of friends, out of which the shortest is about double your height, yes, that is indeed weird. So, a few minutes of bouncing the orange ball is enough for me to feel the pinches of unfitness and go straight to sit out. I'm not sure who was the most relieved that I left, me or the guys in my team.

I spend the next five minutes making peace with my lungs but also laying back watching Eric play, laugh, and generally look like his gorgeous self. I feel like dying, but at least I'm enjoying it. I may not be a fan of basketball, but I happen to be a hardcore fan of half-naked men running around.

When Eric catches me staring, he puts a basket for show-off before requesting a time-out to approach me.

"Everything okay?" he asks, wearing his best grin.

"Yep, my lungs just decided they like me again and want to function."

"Thinking about joining us back on the court?"

"Nope, I'm comfy here."

He chuckles and does his best baby voice. "Did we get hurt?"

"I'm fine, just not a fan of sports. I'm just fine over here, sightseeing."

"Understood. Everything is understood, you're talking to a med student who likes knitting more than biology." He nudges me. "Do you want to go home?"

I sigh. "I could stay for a bit..."

"Your mom will kill you if you don't study."

"So you care about my survival?"

"No, she's just too young to go to jail."

I jump in and attempt a kick but he dodges it skillfully.

"Does a ride home sound good?" he suggests.

"Ride? On what vehicle?" I tease.

"I could carry you."

"I'd like to see you try."

He leans down, two hands under my ass, and pulls me up.

I yell out and he places me back down, his face as flushed as mine.

"Please don't," I beg.

He waves a finger at me. "I could."

"You're literally dying."

"I could," he insists, showing off his arms, although he didn't manage to lift me for more than a millisecond. "But for now, you'll have to settle with walking, as a commoner. Wait up till I tell the guys we're leaving."

"How about no? Let's not ruin their game, they're waiting for you to come back."

"That means you'll play?"

"I'm ruining the game by playing. Besides, I'm not having a bad time watching."

I give him a cunning wink. He returns it.

"Then how about I give you something extra for your eyes to feast on?"

With a swift movement, he takes off his shirt.

If I attempted that, a) I'd get stuck in the shirt and b) I'd look like a squirming squirrel. But when Eric does it, he could have utterly failed and all I would see would be his abs. And, after I've feasted on them for an embarrassingly long time and remember he has a face too, I see his messy dirty-blond hair messier, elevating him from cute to hot enough to give you third-degree burns just from looking.

He kisses me softly, his bright sky-blue eyes filled with pride at how fast he made my heart race. "Take pictures," he murmurs in my mouth, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. "But don't spoil your appetite. There's more for you later."

He throws his sweaty t-shirt away, making it land on his backpack without looking. I must be looking like a horny fangirl meeting Harry Styles.

Eric loves having me focused on him. Also turning me on in places I shouldn't be.

Damn.

His well-shaped body, his muscular arms, his toned back and, when his catwalk to the court is over and he gets back to running, I can see every single muscle of his legs working, and a perfect 6-pack that's most definitely there, not 'visible if you squint' like my friend Jo brags about hers...

He tucks his pants and shoots me an embarrassed look before he starts playing. He loves the attention, and it shows.

How on earth did I end up with this guy?

Don't get me wrong, I've had a round tummy since forever and I never gave my looks a second thought. Yes, I am a bit chubby, so what? I always thought 'If I'm going to be with someone, they should take me as I am'.

The thought had been forming in my head since this morning. I was too freaked out to meet his friends, because what if they said 'That's who you're with? As long as you're happy.' No, I can't be the 'As long as you're happy' boyfriend!

Plus, his friends must have had high expectations because Eric is nineteen and I'm seventeen, and if Eric's going to date someone still in high school I must be pretty impressive, right?

As it turned out, that was all just in my head, like most of my problems. Eric's friends were really nice people.

Even so, this new realization hits me like a punch: my little tummy has turned into a belly, and maybe we haven't been intimate yet but that's going to end soon – very soon, fingers crossed. My doubts, though, don't go away. My boyfriend has a freaking 6-pack, and though I can't wait to see it again, it remains a fact that I'm not in the best shape. When it's my turn to be seen naked by Eric, will he be as glad to see it?

I mean, he's already aware of what I look like, there's been quite a lot of touching. But when he is so impressive, I'd be more comfortable with having something nice to show off in return.

The idea is repulsive, but I could lose a kilo or two. Eric is a freaking God underneath his clothes and I want some confidence under mine.

I guess I'll have to start working.

....

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