Chef's Kiss

Stress

Violet

I'd headed to the backyard to cool off after that last moment in the bathroom with Chris and Matt. I don't know what had come over me, but seeing them in such close proximity, while I was still worked up, and in the privacy of the bathroom...I wanted nothing more than to see them both desire me at the same time. And holy fuck did I ever succeed. The looks on both their faces as I leaned over the counter were identical: fixed, hungry. I didn't know who to look a first or longest. If it wasn't for Matt snapping me out of it, I might've shut the door and never left at all.

I walked out in a haze, looking for reprieve. I'd hidden my backpack in a kitchen cupboard when we'd arrived, stuffed full with an oversized hoodie because I knew it would be cool that night. I pulled it on and walked past people I didn't know onto the back porch, finding Nick seated at a patio table, deep in conversation with a guy to his left and finding the chair on his right empty. I grabbed a fresh beer from a cooler on the floor, trotted over to the empty chair and plopped myself into it.

As I popped off the lid on the edge of the table, I tried not to panic at the thought of what they were talking about in that bathroom at that moment. Could Matt tell what was happening? Would Chris tell him? Were they fighting right now?! I bit at my thumb nail, deep in my imagination and grateful for Nick's companion keeping him distracted so I could play out my fears in peace.

I felt like I'd done something truly awful. I had no intention of kissing either of them, let alone both of them, and the fact that they didn't know about the other twisted my stomach into knots. I wanted them both, and they both wanted me back. I pictured a world where that was possible and immediately pushed that thought away. No point in teasing myself with thoughts of the impossible...

And no matter how much I felt I'd fucked up, I also felt like I hadn't. No part of me regretted Matt. No part of me regretted Chris. I'd never been so turned on in my life. Images of sitting on Matt's lap quickly followed those of Chris standing between my legs and the butterflies in my stomach made me smile, tamping down a giggle, as I fought the excitement both incidents brought out of me.

After maybe ten agonizing minutes, the two of them came walking into the backyard from the back entrance of the house, Matt leading the way and Chris following behind him, wearing a new, dry hoodie. My breathing stopped for a moment as I watched them, their identical height, their identical gaits, Matt's hair a shaggy mess and Chris' poking out on the sides of his beanie, their side profiles angular in all the perfect ways. I genuinely feared I might never be able to pick between them. Matt's mysterious, quiet moods vs Chris' bright energy and optimism. Matt's cool, effortless style, Chris' unique and careless. Matt's way of keeping me guessing but still pulling me in, and Chris' gift for being playfully childish and smiling on a dime. It was truly remarkable how they turned out to be so opposite.

Out of sheer magnetism, my staring drew their eyes to me too, and I gave them each a moment of my attention, unsure what versions of them I was seeing, and just praying it wasn't pissed off ones. They both simply looked at me as they walked past the patio, onto the grass and towards a group of guys standing in a loose circle around the fire pit.