The devil's die (bxb)

Experimenting

After getting home from the gym, I feel... better? As I reflect on the night, I realize Devin is just a jokester. He seemed to enjoy messing with me as much as I did last weekend when I stole his Coke bottle and laughed at him for no reason. Yet, I can't shake the feeling that I tend to overthink things way too much.

Climbing the stairs to my bedroom, I open the washer door and switch the load to the dryer. I quickly grab my towel and take a refreshing cold shower.

Once I find some comfortable clothes, I head downstairs to whip up a creatine and protein shake. But as I'm mixing it, that girl Devin was with keeps invading my thoughts. I can't quite pin down the emotion, but I didn't like seeing her around. She might be a great person, but could I be feeling jealous? That doesn't seem right. Maybe I'm just wishing I had the chance to be his gym partner instead. Yeah, that must be it. I'm not jealous of her; I'm just annoyed that I have to work out alone.

I convince myself that's the source of my frustration. After mixing everything together and cleaning up, I sit at the counter to drink my shake. From across the living room, I hear the door open. It's Bruce.

"Oh hey man, how've you been?" I say, turning to look at him.

"Oh, sup Dennis. Just got done chilling at the club with the boys. You should come next time. But be careful, there are some weirdos around. I got hit on by some twink-looking guy. Disgusting," he laughs, struggling to take off his shoes. I can tell he's drunk. "My driver was a hot chick, though. Got her number," he adds.

"Oh damn, sounds like fun. Yeah, maybe I'll join you next time, just to avoid any unwanted attention," I reply, trying to laugh it off, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

He seems so out of it that he starts stripping off his clothes right in front of me. "I spilled beer all over my shirt and pants like a dumbass. Smells awful." He tosses his clothes over his shoulder, walks to the counter, and clumsily fills a glass with some wine from the fridge.

As the fridge light flickers, I notice something unsettling. He looks down and exclaims, "Oh shit, look at this! Alcohol dick!" He swings it around, laughing. I can't help but laugh too; he looks ridiculous, half-naked with an obvious erection. "Been there," I chuckle.

He takes a sip, nearly spilling it, and sits next to me. "God, I could use a cigarette or something. I don't smoke, but man, when I drink, it feels so good to smoke."

"Oh yeah? I've never tried it," I say.

"Awe man, it's great! We should have a boys' night sometime—get some cigs, beers, and pig out," he suggests, burping.

I laugh again. I've never talked much with Bruce, but even drunk, he's pretty entertaining.

"Speaking of things you've never tried, ever been sucked off by a dude before?" he asks suddenly.

I stare at him, shocked. "What!? No, I haven't. Have you? I thought you were just saying how gross it was when that guy hit on you."

"Nah, man. He wanted to fuck or date or something—hell no. But you know, sometimes you let a buddy help you out," he says, fist-pumping my shoulder. I can't help but notice his hand is rubbing against his erection through his boxers.

I quickly look back up at his face, confused. Is he suggesting something? He's still staring at me, rubbing himself.

"Hm, have you ever given a dude a 'quickie' before?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

He looks away, smiling shyly. "Look, between us guys, I've done it a couple of times. Just to even things out, not because I wanted to or anything. If you tell anyone, I'll beat you," he adds with a laugh.