Sexual Content: Hanjob / blowjob, prolongued eyecontact
_________________________________________________________
On a good day, Mint had a short fuse. His depth for patience and tolerance for incessant whining was shallow. And Malcolm had just run that well dry in less than twenty minutes. With a shady glance casted to the other side of the couch, Mint observed Malcolm absent-mindedly swiping through tinder. Profile after profile of fellow college-going women flashed along his screen, and he swiped right on every one of them. For every four or five swipes, Malcolm would get a new match. A respectable ratio, but getting matches wasn't the problem.
"I don't get it," Malcolm sighed, backing out of another match and continuing his habitual swiping, "I get plenty of matches, but it never goes anywhere."
"It's because you suck at talking to women," Mint retorted in his mind. Thus far, he had tried to be empathetic to Mal's plight. But what started with encouragement and advice quickly devolved into curt responses and tired shrugs. Instead of saying anything, Mint turned the volume up on the movie they were supposed to be watching, hoping that could queue Malcolm to stop talking.
"It's been like three days, and this one hasn't responded. I thought we were hitting it off," Malcolm mumbled.
God, he won't shut the fuck up. It's like he was a broken record at this point, stuttering and stuck on one track. A never-ending loop of complaining about one particular issue. Since the beginnings of their college experience, Malcolm had fallen down a rabbit hole of online dating and the college hookup scene. It was initially a bit surprising that he would be so gung-ho about it, given how intimidated he's been by any sort of romantic interest. Even asking his highschool girlfriend to senior prom seemed like a herculean task.
Mint couldn't judge exactly, given that he's brought plenty of experimental frat bros back to his dorm in the past. But that was the glaring difference between him and Mal; Mint was actually good at seduction. When it came to smooth comments and well-timed touches, Mint mastered the skill of flirtation quickly. Not that other men were difficult to impress, anyways. Malcolm, however, seemed to never grasp charm nor finesse when it came to women. He wasn't repugnant or rude, he was simply incapable of speaking. While stuttering and failing to form a sentence, taking hours to respond to texts, the women he was failing to reach found interest elsewhere. While Mint's voyage in sexual exploration was a small grassy hill, Malcolm's was an insurmountable mountain.
"I just thought I'd be going on more dates and stuff when we got into college, you know?" Malcolm carried on. He was talking over the volume on the TV, which only added to how
annoying it all was. While he driveled on about his plight, Mint reflected on all the times he had tried to help Malcolm. Wingmanning at bars, writing texts for him, coaching him through failed first dates. All for nothing. And now Mint wouldn't hear the end of it.
Gritting his teeth and holding back from saying anything too harsh, Mint responded, "You just need to be patient." He pointed the remote at the TV and clicked the volume up button yet again, the movie almost too loud now. He leaned further on his end of the couch to hammer home his disinterest in the conversation.
