Chapter Text
Part One
He closed out of all the tabs on his laptop and shut the lid without thinking twice. The laptop was shoved aside while Monty tried to get his thoughts in order. Something was messing with his brain because there was no way he was actually getting turned on by…
That .
It’s not every day that a porn website ad pops up on your screen. One would say that it was completely random, caused by a virus perhaps, but most people know how the internet works. You see it because you’ve searched for it in the past.
The question was: was Monty looking for porn? He wouldn’t have hesitated to admit it if it wasn’t for the type of porn that it was… he would have sworn that it wasn’t what he usually searched for. But there it was on his laptop screen. A guy. Why did he even click on the ad in the first place?
If his roommate Scott caught him, he’d probably make a joke out of it, say he was bored and thought it was funny. But Scott wasn’t around on Saturday nights, he went out with his friends and then came back at one in the morning. Usually with a girl. That would mean another sleepless night for Monty.
Scott tried to convince him to go out together in the past but Monty was always prepared with an excuse whether it was catching up on sleep or schoolwork or just not feeling like it. Maybe it was because he got awkward and nervous when girls approached him and because… nothing ever worked the way it was supposed to.
Maybe if Monty tried hard enough, he could ignore all the questions in his head but his curiosity got the better of him and soon enough, the laptop was back in his lap and he was scrolling through his history - desperately trying to find the website again.
Of course he had to pay if he wanted to view the content of a certain creator but each profile had a two-minute preview video so you'd know what you were paying for. It was made to tempt him into doing the unthinkable.
He sighed with relief when he scrolled through the list of most popular profiles. They were mostly young men, all well built and with a lot of hair. He actually laughed because how could he, a straight guy, get turned on by these men? They screamed gay, if Monty came across one of those in person there was no doubt that he would be shouting slurs like it was nothing.
He got bored of scrolling and just as he was about to exit the site again, an ad popped up on his screen. A special offer designed to help out small creators - you could access their content for twenty-four hours without charge and if you liked what you saw then you could subscribe.
Monty really didn't think he'd be interested until the three accounts popped up on his screen and the one in the middle, that one was a ‘normal’ looking guy.
Monty thought that the guy actually looked straight with his dark curly hair, sharp jawline and dark eyes. He was with his dog in most of the pictures as Monty checked out the guy’s account. Sheer curiosity, not like he thought about what he was doing.
There was one picture of the guy in a bathtub. The bubbles were covering everything below the belt but his chest was exposed. He wasn't muscular and hairy like the other guys and Monty, unfortunately, found himself getting hard again. But that was okay, the guy looked like a flat-chested girl anyway so it didn't count.
He was only doing it for a laugh, that's what he told himself when he made an account. It may have been free but it still required credit card details and Monty used Scott's like it was second nature, he would be cancelling the subscription anyway so it wouldn't matter. It would be a joke by the morning.
Monty was sure he was only doing it out of boredom but then he clicked on the first video of user WinniethePooh, the introduction to the account. 'Winnie' (as he called himself) sat on a baby pink fluffy rug in the middle of the floor and he smiled at the camera coyly. He wasn't wearing a shirt but there was a black satin skirt covering his crotch.
'Hello and welcome to my account," Winnie said in this soft voice that Monty told himself could as well have been a slightly deeper voice of a woman so again, this wasn't much different to watching a cam girl. And the skirt just added to it.
Winnie sat on the floor and talked a little about himself, he said he was nineteen and then Monty couldn't concentrate on the rest because the boy on his laptop screen put a hand between his thighs and he tightened the material of his skirt. The outline of his erection was visible under the material and Monty blinked several times before he remembered that he was supposed to breathe if he didn’t want to pass out.
Even though words were coming out of the boy's mouth, all Monty focused on was how he palmed himself through the material of the skirt. Monty's own erection was getting uncomfortable as it pressed upwards against the laptop but he didn't move a muscle. One thing he was definitely not going to do was jerk off to a video of some random fag in a skirt.
The clip was only five minutes long but for Monty, it felt like forever. The boy on his screen bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back slightly as he wrapped the material around his cock and then pumped his hand up and down.
Monty's froze, his lip trembled and his chest grew heavy like there was a weight pressing down on him. But all that was nothing compared to how horny he felt. He pressed his thighs together and grabbed onto the bedsheets to distract himself - anything to stop himself from pulling down his pants and boxers and jerking himself off until he didn't even know his own name.
Maybe Monty would have been able to control himself if it wasn't for the noises that the boy was making. Winnie didn't overdo it but he made soft ah sounds that made Monty go crazy.
He gave in, rested the laptop on his nightstand and hoped that the remaining one minute of the video would get him off. He squeezed some lotion in his hand and then he tugged his jeans and boxers down to his knees.
His cock was flushed deep red, already leaking at the tip and begging to be touched, so that’s what he did. He wrapped his lotioned hand around the length and the coolness of it made him groan. Monty took a deep breath and his hand matched the speed of Winnie's hand in the video.
He told himself that this wasn't gay, he was simply imagining that whatever was happening in the video was being done to him and that was what turned him on. Not how the older boy whimpered helplessly or how his eyes rolled to the back of his head and how his hips moved when he thrust into his hand. Monty was definitely not interested in that.
He thought he was going to come at the same time as Winnie but then just as the boy's hips Jerked forward and he let out a loud moan, his hand stopped abruptly and he gasped.
Monty stopped moving too and he stared at the boy as he blinked at the camera several times as if trying to adjust back to reality. Monty glared at the screen, he felt like he was getting robbed. He was (or could have been) paying to see this and WinniethePooh just ruined what could have been the most intense orgasm of his life.
But then the boy grinned at the camera again. "If you wanna see me come…" Winnie said as he got on his knees. Anyone could have been watching this but for Monty, it was like it was just the two of them. It felt personal. "You're going to have to ask for it because I only do as I'm told," the boy said and the video ended right there.
Monty knew that it was just a ploy to get people to pay and request all kinds of weird shit but hell, he would have done it himself he was that much into it.
At this point, somewhere in the back of his mind (at the very very very back where cobwebs had gathered), Monty knew that it wasn't a joke anymore, he was enjoying this and there was nothing he hated more than that.
Nevertheless, he clicked on the profile again and browsed through the videos to get himself off as fast as he could without thinking about what he was watching. The first thing he noticed was that the account was only three weeks old, he glanced at the number of what the website called ’fans’ - almost 3k. Not bad, he thought. But that meant three thousand people who were willing to pay $10 a month just to see the boy pleasure himself.
I get it, Monty thought and he continued stalking the older guy.
Winnie uploaded once a week on Thursdays, he posted a request of his choice. Requests only cost $2 but there was no guarantee that Winnie would choose that particular one out of the hundreds he got every week - that was the risk. Monty let his imagination run wild.
Then on Saturdays, at exactly half-past seven, Winnie would go live and he put on a show, following some of the commands that were given to him on the live chat.
Monty clicked on the second video only to be greeted by Winnie sitting on the rug in the middle of the room again. The ring light reflected in his eyes making them stand out even more but all Monty cared about was that Winnie was only wearing boxers and he was quite visibly hard.
"Turns out some of you weren't fans of my last video," Winnie said, looking straight at the camera. He had this air of confidence around him like he could smile his way through life. He could. Monty gulped and he wrapped his hand around his length again, slowly resuming the motion of his hand.
"Actually, some of you- most of you were very angry with me," Winnie continued and the smirk never left his face. Monty usually skipped the porn intros and got straight down to business but he stayed and listened patiently as Winnie explained that he was going to use a vibrator and try to orgasm from that only. "No touching my cock just as requested," Winnie said and then shortly after, he positioned himself in front of the camera - his face away from it but visible in the mirror that was strategically placed behind him. The boy arched his back to give the viewers a better view as he began to finger himself.
Monty didn’t dare to move as he continued to watch the rest of the video. He watched a guy fucking himself with a toy. He watched a guy moan. He watched a guy arch his back.
And he enjoyed it.
Near the end of the video, Winnie grabbed onto the rug beneath him so hard that his knuckles turned white as the toy worked it’s magic inside him. His hips jerked forward and Monty watched with wide eyes as the boy on the screen moaned and squirmed. He was fisting his cock so hard that he thought he was going to injure his hand. And he didn't care.
'Ah, ah! Fuck, f- fuck! Fucking fuck ! Ah!" the sound came through the laptop speakers while Monty imagined that he was the one causing the boy to make all those noises.
Monty moaned when his orgasm finally hit him. He just kept coming and coming, white streaks decorated his chest and stomach while all he could do is shut his eyes and listen to the sound playing through his laptop as Winnie chased his orgasm.
Not long after, the boy doubled over like he was in pain, stilled and then his whole body shuddered violently, he didn't stop shaking as he stained the rug underneath him with come.
Winnie tried to say something just for the sake of the viewers but he couldn't string a sentence together and ended up babbling to himself until he finally stopped shuddering.
Monty couldn't watch anymore as Winnie shakily turned back to the camera and smiled lazily. His hair was glued to his forehead with sweat and Monty quickly exited out of the tab and cleared his history before shutting the laptop and placing it back on his desk.
His entire body froze when he heard footsteps outside his room, he held his breath but it was just Clay, his other roommate, talking on the phone. Another late-night call to his parents? They lived on the other side of the country so the time zones were different and Clay’s parents often forgot. He rarely came out of his room and Monty must have completely forgotten that he was home.
What if he heard?
He wondered about that for a few seconds before coming to the conclusion that Clay was too awkward to ask about it and if he did- Monty knew how to deal with people who asked too many questions.
***
Monty's POV
It was just a dream. Obviously it was a dream, in what universe would I get off to a video of a guy fucking himself in the ass?
This universe apparently. I open the laptop just to check if it's real, if the guy's profile actually exists or if I made all of it up in my dream. Some sick fucking dream. My brain sure loves to be creative when I’m tired.
But I log into Scott's account: scottythejerk11 - it's in Scotty's name, he’s paying for it so it's almost like he's the one who watched those videos, not me. It’s genius really. Just playing a prank on him. He’ll be pissed which is what makes this worth it.
The smile disappears off my face when I see that the guy's account is there and he's smiling in his profile picture, mocking me, grinning at me like he knows that he made me come last night like no one ever has before. Smug little shit.
I should just fucking close this tab and cancel the subscription while I can but then…No, Scott deserves this. Motherfucker. He came in about three in the morning last night, he forgot his keys and so he called me so I’d let him inside. I’ll make him sleep on the doorstep next time.
I glared at him but he seemed too busy checking out his girl to even notice. Then five minutes later he was pissing me off again, coming into my room asking for condoms because he didn't wanna go out and get some. The only reason why I let him borrow some was that I didn't want him to become a teenage dad. I’m a good friend. Sometimes.
The guy’s profile is still there. Winnie. What sort of twink name is that? I’m not surprised he turned into a fag with a name like that. Bet his daddy doesn’t love him. Why else would he be doing this shit? It’s obviously for attention.
Twenty four hours. I should cancel it before they charge Scott because he will have questions. But how many hours passed since last night? Twelve? I still have about twelve hours left and… I might get bored.
I’ll just close the tab.
If Clay heard anything last night, he’s not letting it show. He’s making chocolate milk over by the fridge and he pays no attention to me apart from sending his awkward white guy smile my way. We don’t talk much.
“Did Scott get back last night?” Clay asks while he stirs the milk in his cup. Slowly it starts to change colour.
“Yeah.” If we have a conversation, it's probably gonna be about Scott. Clay's almost three years older than me- he and Scott go to the same college, they don't have any classes together but Scott needed a roommate to pay rent and Clay needed a room.
He got a large flat when he left high school, told me I could move in with him as soon as I turned eighteen. So October 29th came around and I was moving my shit into Scott's place at five in the morning so my dad wouldn't wake up and start asking questions. I know I did the right thing, he called me as soon as he woke up and asked me what kind of sick game I thought I was playing. It wasn't a game.
I only keep in touch with Estela because she did nothing wrong. As soon as she turns eighteen, I hope she chooses to move out too.
Clay just nods, takes his glass of milk and heads into his room, the biggest bedroom in the house. Scott knew I wouldn't be able to pay rent for a while, I'm still in high school and I have no job, no savings, no nothing. He knew we'd have to have a third roommate to get by. Had to give up the biggest bedroom but Clay's not so bad.
There's food in the kitchen, Scott keeps on top of his groceries and I leech off of him like usual. I told him I'll pay it all back when I get a decent job. I'm graduating high school in a month, I'll spend the whole summer working to pay him back. I don't like being indebted to anyone.
Especially my friends.
The living room is a tip. Sundays are ‘cleaning days’ as Scott calls it. That's the only day of the week when all of us are home and somehow Scott thought it would be a great bonding experience to clean the apartment together. I feel so much closer to him after digging out his dirty socks from between the couch seats.
He's still asleep though so I gotta make use of my spare time as best as I can before he forces me to vacuum the carpet and sweep the floors. There's dirty cups and plates on the glass coffee table but I push them aside so I have enough space to put my feet up. I think I'm sitting on the girl's jacket. It just smells slutty like the way girls do.
Wonder what that guy smells like.
"Hey, what are you eating?" Scotty emerges from his room like he's just woken up from a six-month slumber and he squints even though the light isn't on. His hair is sticking up in all directions and he's only wearing red and black checkered pyjama pants. I stop chewing and my eyes roam over his bare chest. It's nothing I haven't seen before but he could at least put a shirt on.
"Nutella toast," I tell him with my mouth full and turn back towards the TV. It belongs to Scott, a gift from his parents and Clay pays for the TV license because he likes to watch the news every morning. I think he knows that Scott and I use his Netflix account but he hasn't said anything so I think he's good with that.
"Cool."
After finishing my breakfast, I lick my fingers clean from chocolate. That's when Scott comes back into the living room with four toast piled up on his plate.
"Here," he says and he drops two of the pieces into my lap. I'm not gonna ask why he made food for me too but I'm guessing it's to apologise for waking me up in the middle of the night. I'll take it.
The beige couch is cluttered with clothes that we haven't bothered to fold and put away, Scott simply pushes them onto the floor and sits down with me. He's easy to get along with, he watches the Pirates of the Caribbean movie that's playing without asking why the fuck I'm watching it at eleven in the morning on a Sunday.
"Where's the girl?" I ask. My favourite part of the week is watching Scott say goodbye to them, say he'll call them and then shut the door in their face only to never contact them again. He's turned into a fuckboy since he graduated from Liberty. Don't know what that's about.
"Sleeping." He sighs and drops the crust of his toast back onto the plate. A child. He sees me roll my eyes. "Don't know who you're making those faces at, your whole mouth is smeared in chocolate."
I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. Whatever. "Fuck you, at least I eat my crust."
"And you think you're so mature, don't you?" Scotty grins at me, takes a bite from his other toast and looks away. "We'll get started on the cleaning when I finish eating."
And that's my cue to leave.
"Hey, where the fuck are you going?" he shouts after me. "This is as much your mess as it is mine!" I laugh and close the door on him to block the noise out. I will clean, I have to. He pays my part of the rent though he never ever points that out.
I glance at the laptop resting on my pillows. I know what's waiting for me. I know I should but-
But.
It's that ‘but’ that worries me. It's nothing. It doesn't do anything for me. I was tired and-and thinking about all the girls Scott came home with all the time. Yeah, I got hard but not from this twink for sure.
I won't get hard again. Not this time. I'm sure of it.
***
My parents didn't come to my graduation. Scott and Estela did. Clay couldn't come but he patted me on the back when I got home and gave me some weird toy robot that he said was 'limited edition'. I left it somewhere on my desk along with all the trash from high school. I'm gonna have to look over that someday.
Clay's graduation gift was still better than Scott's. He got me a job. And okay, I'm grateful, of course I am. But now I'm gonna be slaving away my whole summer while Diego and the rest of them are going on vacation. Let's face it, I barely had the money for a bus ticket, I wouldn't have been doing anything interesting during the summer anyway.
I'd probably spend it in my room, in front of the laptop watching some twink fuck himself on a dildo because for some fucked up reason, my cock likes it. I don't understand why since I'm not a fag, I've never been attracted to a guy or even thought about fucking one. Well except this one but he's an exception.
He's a fucking porn star for fuck's sake, it's kinda his job to get people horny so what if I do think about fucking him sometimes? It's literally brainwashing.
I start on Monday. Four days. I already had a day of training, they said I won't be working on the tills and thank fuck for that because math really wasn't my strong point in school. At least I won't have to do all these shitty subjects at college.
I got accepted into Foothill College. Embarrassing. I didn't even tell Scott, he and Clay go to Stanford. Telling them that I got into a community college? No thanks, I'd rather tell everyone I get off on watching a guy on the internet play with his nipples. Apparently you can come from that.
Anyway. Scott only found out because I left my letter on the kitchen counter and he found it. He said he was proud of me and I shoved him back and told him to stop going through my shit. I did apologise later on though. It's all good between us.
It won't be for long. He got me a job at the fucking mall. The fucking clothes store. Studio 51 it's called and we have to wear these disgusting lavender polo shirts. I already know I'm gonna quit after the first day.
But I fucking can't . Sure the college is free but I gotta start paying rent, buying my own food and buying some new clothes because the last time I remember getting clothes was when I turned seventeen. I could do with a little cash.
I'll try my best.
I go to my favourite website. He went live last night but I couldn't watch it because I was getting shitfaced with Scotty. We had to celebrate my graduation in style and it was just us, none of his other annoying 'friends'.
Winnie. I scoff. If that's really his name then I feel sorry for the kid. I've stalked his twitter, seen all the photos he posts and read his tweets about how 'lonely' he is. Yet another ploy to get people to buy his shit and it's working.
Maybe I should ditch the department job and start moaning on the internet for cash. That's all they seem to do. I've checked other accounts out, none of them do it for me. Just further proof that I'm not gay, just brainwashed by this slutty twink.
Back to his Twitter, he doesn't give away anything about his personal life. Not a thing. I just know that he's nineteen and he goes by Winnie.
It won't let me log into my account. Did I type the password in wrong? I type it in again: football123 . Nothing.
Sorry, this account doesn't exist.
Fuck you, yes it does. I've been watching porn on it for the past month. I wish it didn't but it does fucking exist.
I slam the laptop shut. Just give it a second, it'll work in a minute.
I walk out of the room because walking around the apartment usually works when I'm stressed out. Scott is in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch with his laptop on the coffee table and his phone in his hand. He doesn't even hear me walk in.
That's when I see his credit card laying on the coffee table. My palms begin to sweat, I think I fucked up.
"Hey man, what are you up to?" I walk over to him, try to act cool but he doesn't give me a weird 'I know you've been watching gay porn' kinda look. He just cards his fingers through his dirty blonde hair and sighs.
"Just trying to do something," he says as he nibbles at his bottom lip. "Someone used my card for a fucking… porn subscription or something like that, I'm trying to figure out if I got hacked or… I'll probably have to call the bank."
"A porn subscription? That's fucked up," I comment and Scott nods. Who'd pay to watch porn? Apparently all 10k of Winnie's viewers. He had a special video dedicated to reaching that milestone, wore a bear ears headband and a yellow Winnie the Pooh crop top to live up to his name while he rode a pillow, sick fucker. I came twice while watching it. Fuck…
"Yeah, I cancelled the account but… I’m scared they'll empty my account now. I should call the bank," Scott rambles on and he takes his phone and leaves to have his phone call in the privacy of the kitchen.
I'm fucked.
***
Scott drives us to work on Monday morning, that's one thing - I can't skip work or he'll know about it and he won't let me. He's a persistent fucker.
I look at my reflection as we pass a jewellery store with rings on display. I look weird in lavender. I look disgusting actually. Why did Scott ever think this was a good idea? He looks good in lavender, I don't.
Fuck I sounded like a fag just then.
We pass by another shop, this one sells handbags and not cheap ones. This store is fucking huge, I'd probably get lost if it wasn't for Scotty. He wants to know what time my lunch break is at.
"One, why?"
He beams. "Great, I can take you out then," he says and I won't say no to food. "Just wait for me outside the staff room and we'll go together."
The staff room. I scoff when Scott takes me to it. So this is the staff room. It's like a small office with metal lockers where Scotty explains that we have to put our phones away because we can't use them on the job.
This is gonna be a long day.
Only two hours into my shift, I'm starting to hate people. Why can't they put the clothes in the right place? They leave them all over the fucking store and I'm the guy who has to walk around and put them back in the right place.
"Um. Hey? Hi. Excuse me?" I fold the T-shirt properly and place it back onto the display. I know it's my job to help customers but God are they fucking annoying.
"Ye-" I turn around and immediately freeze. I'm petrified. The guy standing in front of me- he's real. He's real . He's not just a porn star on the internet, he's a fucking real person and he's standing maybe a meter away from me. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
"Um, I was just wondering if you have this in size thirty-four?" I blink. No, this has got to be some sick joke. He doesn't even sound like himself. I'm used to hearing him and his voice is quite high, really soft. And this guy's voice is soft too, he's got the same hazel eyes, the same dark curly hair and- well he's a little taller than I thought he was but his voice is… all wrong. His voice is deep .
He holds the trousers out towards me awkwardly and he's like a completely different person to the guy on the internet. Last time I saw him he was wearing a yellow skirt and black tights. Now he's just got a black hoodie on, a jean jacket on top with black jeans to match. And they're not even the faggy skinny jeans.
If I didn't know better, I'd be certain that he was straight. He looks straight. Maybe he is. I mean, all he does is fuck himself on camera. Some straight men might do that for the money. He's never discussed his sexuality or said anything about guys or-
"You do… work here, right?" he asks and I snap out of it. Fuck he'll know. He'll know that I watch his videos if I don't start acting like a normal human being.
"Yeah, sorry. Um, first day here," I quickly mumble and take the trousers from him. I look at the tag, try to remember what he said but I can't. I look up and all he does is smile reassuringly. I hate that damn smile.
"Um... " And fortunately my saviour who goes by the name Chloe walks by. She went to Liberty too and she’s worked here longer than I have. I had English with her and she's nice, she'll help out. "Chloe! Hey, Chloe!"
She stops, turns towards me and raises an eyebrow like she's trying to say 'why are you shouting in front of a client' but nevertheless, she walks over with a smile on her face. Told you she was more experienced.
"I'll just… I think she'll be able to help you out," I say to the guy standing in front of me. Winnie? Is his name Winnie? He doesn't look like a twink named Winnie.
But I pass the trousers to Chloe and walk away with my hands in my pockets. That was the most mortifying thing I've ever been through and I've had to endure a lot of shit with the way my dad treated me. Getting my ass beat was practically a Saturday night ritual. But this was worse than that I… fuck it was so embarrassing. I'm never gonna be able to watch his videos ever again.
***
"What do you mean you're quitting? You can't quit," Scotty protests and he grabs my arm and tries to drag me out of bed. I don't budge.
I came home last night and the first thing I did was cancel my subscription. Right after Scotty cancelled his account, I made a new one with my own credit card. I know it was risky, I was desperate. But it's cancelled now so it doesn't matter. I lost ten fucking dollars.
"I'll just call in sick," I mutter into my pillow.
"It's your second day at work, you can't call in sick." Scott scoffs. "Get up, I worked really hard to get you this job."
Great, now I feel guilty. Which is exactly what he wanted… for fuck's sake.
But it seems to have worked. I went to work, did my shift, didn't see the porn guy and I went home. It worked. For two weeks.
It's Saturday night and I shouldn't be working but I signed up for it. Scott was trying to get me to go out with him and those friends of his again and I needed a solid excuse. This works. I fold the pants in the women's section and try my best not to glance at my watch. It shouldn't be long now until my shift is over.
The store is almost empty, I don't get why we bother keeping it open. Chloe is reading a magazine at the tills. We literally have no customers and we still have to be here. And yet, it's way better than staying out all night with Scott and all his boyfriends.
I drop the trousers, swear and pick them back up. Everything’s just fucked up today. I’ve been working here for almost three weeks and I swear I’ve never encountered as many stupid people as I have here. Do you work here? Well I’m fucking wearing this disgusting purple shirt so take a guess, am I? I wouldn’t be wearing this shit for fun.
There’s a guy walking around the store. I see him looking around frantically and picking up the shirts I just fucking folded, looking between them and then putting them back. Yeah okay, he didn’t unfold them but they don't look like they’re used to. I’m not getting in trouble for this.
Just as I’m about to step forward, I focus on the guy’s face. It’s him again. Fucking fuck. What is he doing here again? That’s it, I’m quitting this fucking job. I can’t do this.
What if he fucking knows? What if he somehow figured it out after seeing me that time and then I unsubscribed and- Breathe. Jesus, he’s not a magician. He’s just some dumb kid who jerks off on the internet for cash. He doesn’t know…
Then he picks up one of the sweaters I folded and as he’s doing so, another one of them falls on the ground.
“What are you doing?” I shout and then lower my voice halfway through the question. The store is empty and I just fucking shouted. Chloe stares at me from the tills like she wants to ask what the fuck is wrong with me. She probably thinks I’ve never experienced civilization. I need to stop freaking out, this job and him here… Breathe.
The guy jumps and he spots the sweater lying on the ground. He bends down to pick it up and tries to fold it but I quickly walk over and snatch it from him. “I’ll do it.” Because you obviously can’t do it right.
"Sorry I was looking for my phone," he tells me and cards his fingers through his curls. He then looks up at me and his brown eyes meet mine. I immediately avert his gaze. Why is he looking at me like that?
"Um, I just folded all these so I can tell you it's not here," I let him know.
He looks embarrassed. "Oh! Sorry, I was here a couple of hours ago so I thought… I might have left it here."
This is painfully awkward. How do you fucking lose your phone in a pile of clothes? Is he stupid? And he said he was here a couple of hours ago, how did he only realise now? Definitely stupid.
Let’s get this over with so I can go home. Eleven minutes of my shift left and I’ll be free. Might as well waste it.
“So you took it out in the store?” I ask, looking around the small section of the shop that we’re in. Women’s clothes. Why am I not surprised? I've seen him with a skirt on-
“Yeah. Yeah, I have,” the guy says with an awkward shrug. Before I can say anything, he clears his throat. "Could you… call me? Maybe my phone will ring and... "
Jesus. What else does he want me to do? I fold clothes, I'm not some personal assistant.
And then four minutes later, I’m standing near the staff room with my phone in my hands. Just a few more minutes and I'll be going home.
I grabbed my shit from the staff room while I was in there and I could already see Chloe giving me the side-eye. Scott won't let me quit so might as well get myself fired. Shit, this job sucks.
The idiotic guy tells me his number and I call his phone. Both of us look around the store as we wait for some kind of sound.
“I’m Winston by the way,” he says casually.
“Cool.” Winnie. Winston. Boy, he must hate his parents.
“Hey, it’s Winston. Leave a-”
“Shit,” he mutters when I take the phone away from my ear. His phone must be on silent or it’s not here. Tough luck. I’m going home.
But then I just see him standing there, biting his lip and looking around like he doesn’t know what to do. I don’t think of the boy I saw on my laptop screen because that’s… that’s Winnie and this is Winston. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say they were two different people.
Equally hot but-
“Do you need a ride home or something?” I ask and then Winston tears his eyes away from whatever he was looking at. Shit, I’m not offering to drive him home. I don’t have a fucking car. “I mean like- I could call you a taxi.”
“Nah, it's alright,” he says with a smile. Winston. Okay, Winston. “I’ll walk.”
I give him a small nod because I have about two minutes left and the store’s getting ready to shut, Chloe is doing her last check of the store to make sure I didn’t make a mess of anything. I will next time, I gotta get fired as quickly as possible. Maybe I’ll find a job somewhere in those car repair shops like Padilla. Been keeping my Jeep together with sellotape since I first got it, I’d do alright at a place like that.
“You sure?” I ask, snapping back to reality because Winston’s cleared his throat, I’m staring gormlessly into space and I should say something.
“Yeah, I don't live far from here.” I didn't need to know that. But he told me. Now I know. I don’t live far from here either. So he was close by when he was filming all those videos of himself-
“Alright.” I quickly run my hand down my face and turn away. My face feels hot but I don’t think he noticed. I literally watched this guy shove a plastic cock up his ass, how am I having a conversation with him right now? I almost laugh out of the weirdness of all of this.
I feel like a dick walking away from him. Okay so he’s an idiot who lost his phone but… I sigh. “If they find it, it should be in lost property by tomorrow. Maybe you could check tomorrow.” Tomorrow when I’ll be laying in bed, not working so I won’t have to see you and think about what you sound like when you-
My mind is wandering places. Focus. I blame this fucking job. Fucking lavender shirts. Anyone would feel gay with this on.
Winston gives me a small nod. “Thanks, mo-uh… Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
That’s because I didn’t give it to you, dumbass. But now I can’t exactly tell him to go fuck himself. “Monty,” I say and then I turn away from him and walk out of there before he can talk me into anything else.
***
Scott wakes me up at half one and says that his parents are coming over for a visit. Our apartment literally looks like a fucking brothel. Scott brought two girls home last night, this guy just never fucking slows down and they went at it in the living room I’m sure. I was planning on walking in just to teach him a fucking lesson but I didn’t. You’re welcome Scotty.
“Fuck! Get up man, my parents are gonna be here in half an hour,” Scott says as he bangs on my open door again. Yeah, I fucking heard him the first time and I don’t care. He can clean up his own mess.
“Monty!”
“Five fucking minutes! Alright?” I shout back and he mumbles something that I can’t make out but fucks off so whatever. I got what I wanted.
If Clay was here… No, apparently Clay has a girlfriend. Clay has a girlfriend. It doesn’t even sound right. Some chick named Jessica, he wouldn’t stop talking about her on Friday while Scott and I got ready for work.
So he’s spending the weekend with her and Scott and I are stuck here, cleaning up the leftovers of Scotty’s little whore party. He’s gonna knock one of these girls up by the end of the year, I’m telling you.
My phone’s flashing like every morning and I expect to see texts from Estela or maybe Scott drunk texting me and calling to tell me how much he loves me but it’s from a private number instead.
I sit up.
Hello, this is Winston the guy from last night haha
I got my phone back just now
Thank you for your help last night
I’m so glad he specified - I almost thought it was the other Winston because I obviously know so many guys named Winston. No, but- What the fuck is this? Why is he texting me? How is he- I called him. Now he has my phone number.
I swear I’m not an idiot or a conspiracy theorist but doesn’t this sound a little… Convenient for him? He’s gay, I’m a somewhat attractive guy and he got my phone number without even having to ask for it.
“Monty!”
“Fuck off!” If Scott can’t clean up after himself then maybe he shouldn’t be bringing all these girls home. Back to Winston.
What do I say to him? I don’t really want to talk to him. What if he takes it the wrong way and starts flirting with me? I don’t want that. God no, that would be terrible…
Scott breaks something in the kitchen, maybe a plate and he starts cursing like a bitch. I should go there and help him.
I switch my phone off and throw it on the bed. I won’t reply. He said thank you and that’s it. Problem solved. Easy.
***
Not so easy. Two weeks later, on a Wednesday, Winston is here again.
He has to be here to see me. Why is he coming to the fucking shop seventeen times a week? Does he need special outfits for all his creepy viewers?
I’m at the till, Chloe had to teach me how to use it and I’m at the till when Winston walks up to me with his basket.
I look away before my eyes can even meet his and do the pleasantries of ‘Hello, how are you?’ like I have been all week. I’m programmed to say it by now.
Tights, knee-high socks and a skirt. Well someone’s getting a show tonight. I make the mistake of looking up and notice that his cheeks have turned pink but he stares me down and doesn’t make up some excuse about it being for a girlfriend or a friend.
I respect him for that.
When I finally tell him his total of over forty dollars (Jesus, how much money does he spend on this shit?), Winston hands me the money and with a nervous smile says, “Uh I got my phone back a while ago. I think I texted you, I don't know. Maybe you didn't get the message?”
He stares at me and I focus on getting the right change.
“I got it.”
It’s you who didn’t get the message, Winston. At this point, it’s pathetic how he follows me around like a dog. Yet, I kinda like it. All those other guys are watching him come every week and here he is, asking me if I got his text message.
He wants me to fuck him so bad.
Maybe I would.
“Look I'm sorry if I overstepped a boundary or something by texting you.” Winston continues and I realise something, he appears completely cool but he cards his fingers through his hair. He does that when he’s nervous. “I was just- I wanted to thank you. For helping me find my phone.”
I scoff. I gotta know “Okay, then let me ask you a question. Did you 'lose' your phone on purpose just so you could talk to me?”
Chloe gives me the side-eye as her customer leaves with a smile and another approaches her till. Winston’s gonna get me fired. I quickly turn to face him again and he stands there with his eyebrows furrowed. He looks fucking speechless.
“Excuse me? You- if I wanted to talk to you I would have gone up to you and started a conversation. But I didn't. Get over yourself.” And then he looks away with a pissed off expression as I put the receipt in his bag.
I almost wanna comment on the skirt he bought. ‘So how much did your viewers have to pay for you to wear this?’ I wanna ask but I don't. I don't want him to know I've seen his shit. Freak.
I slide the bag across the counter. “Have a wonderful day.”
“Fuck you.”
And with that, he grabs the bag and walks out without looking back. Childish motherfucker.
My day doesn’t get any better from there. When I get home, a guy is laying on the couch. In nothing but boxers.
"Oh shit!" he screams as soon as I walk in and he tries to cover himself with the blanket. For fuck's sake, what the hell is this? Since when- Why is there a random naked guy on our couch? One of Scott's boyfriends?
"Er…"
Is Scott starting to forget that he doesn't live alone? And didn't he call in sick this morning? I didn't even see him but I remember banging on his door and him telling me to fuck off because he had a 'cold' and was going to sleep it off. Yeah, he slept if off alright.
The guy on the couch stares at me as I slowly take my jacket off. I mean… whatever. Just another one of Scott's hookups probably. A guy. Scott and a guy. What the fuck?
"I'm one of Scott's friends. Justin," he rushes out and holds his hand out for me to shake it. I don't know where that hand's been, I don't wanna touch it.
"Right."
I start to walk past him and then I stop. This guy isn't just some random hook up, he's got a blanket and he's watching our TV while munching on Scott’s snacks. Scott's usual hookups don't stay long enough to get snacks.
"Are you gay?" I ask, stopping in my tracks.
Justin raises an eyebrow like he thought it was obvious. "Um, yeah?"
"So are you... Scott's boyfriend?" The word feels heavy on my tongue. I mean, I've seen Scott fuck a billion girls, he can't be… he's not gay. I'd know if he was gay.
Justin doesn't know what to say. He glances at the door like he's waiting for something. Yes, where is Scotty? Where the fuck is he? He better come here and explain himself before I kick his boyfriend out on his ass.
"So?"
"We used to date," Justin says quietly. Used to? "We broke up in like… November."
November. That's when Scott started bringing sluts back to our place. What is he doing? What was he thinking?
I cross my arms over my chest. "And now you're in our apartment. Naked."
"Not naked!" Justin protests pulling the blanket up to his chin protectively. I've already seen all of his junk, he doesn't need to hide. Justin glances at me and quickly looks away.
"What are you doing here if you guys broke up?"
"We made up. Last night," Justin answers quietly. Made up. So they're back together? I'll have to see Justin more often?
"Right… Good for you I guess." Look at them working their shit out. What a happy couple. A couple of gays. I turn away from him again, start walking to my room and stop. It hits me. "So Scott's gay?"
"Bi," Justin says with a shrug. Right. I've been best friends with a guy that's half gay and I didn't even know. Now I'm living with him and my dad would probably have a stroke if he knew. Somehow, that makes me feel a little better.
Slowly, I walk back towards Justin and sit down in the armchair. Might as well wait for Scotty here. He's got some explaining to do. Justin smiles at me nervously. " So… is there like a way for gay guys to tell when someone else is gay?" Because obviously Justin could see and I couldn't. Scott doesn't look gay or bi or whatever to me.
"Um yeah, I guess. Sometimes." Justin glances at me like he's scared. I'm not gonna do anything to him, I'm just asking a question. "Usually when they're closeted. They just have this certain… look. Like they want to but they know they can't. They just reek of this… fear to reach out and touch. But you see them wanting to."
I give him a small nod. I've never smelled Scott reek of anything other than sweat. I didn't know he had a 'look'. Apparently he does.
"Why are you asking?"
I look down at the ground. Why the hell am I suddenly confiding in Scotty’s ex-boyfriend? He’s scared of me, he won’t ask questions or judge me like Scott would. “There's this guy and he's kinda giving me mixed signals- not that I'm into him, he's just really confusing so. Like I'm not gay, okay? He is. I'm not.” Does Winston want to fuck me?
"Alright... " Justin says and then his lips turn into a smile and he laughs to himself. "Dude, you are so not straight."
What the fuck? He’s the one getting fucked by my roommate not me, I just asked him a question. I throw one of the cushions at him and tell him to shut up because he has no idea what he’s saying.
The door opens, I forgot to lock it. Scotty easily walks in with two bags of groceries. He stops and stares. His eyes focus on me. “Monty.”
Then he looks at Justin, back at me, at Justin and then just looks away. Was I not meant to know about Justin? Well I do and it’s not because he told me. Why didn’t he? I’m supposed to be his best friend.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” I say. Justin has gone silent and Scot won’t look at me. I stand up. “I’ll leave you guys to it.” Scott was obviously planning something for the two of them and he somehow forgot that I was gonna come back from work. Probably lost track of time. Good for him.
I grab my keys and phone again, unsure of where I’m gonna go. I just need to get out of here. It’s too fucking gay. I don’t belong here.
The door doesn’t close behind me when I step out, Scott goes after me and then he shuts the door with a bang. “What- Where are you going?”
“No idea,” I say with a shrug. Where the hell can I go? He’s my only friend. I mean there’s also Diego but I haven’t kept in touch since graduation- “Just go back to your boyfriend or whoever he is. Have fun.”
I try to storm off but he grabs my arm and pulls me back and trust me, Scott may be little but he’s strong. “I knew your father was-”
“Don’t fucking talk about my dad,” I snap before he can even finish his sentence. His hand leaves my arm and he steps back. We stare at each other for a couple of seconds, Scott looks away first.
“I just thought you’d understand that all.”
Understand what? What’s there to understand? That he likes guys? I mean sure whatever, fuck whoever you want. I don’t care.
Okay, Junior year… Scott knew me then. He saw what I was like but… fuck I wouldn’t hurt him just becuase he liked cock, alright? He gave me a roof over my head, gave me food, a job and drove me to school whenever he could because I didn’t take my Jeep with me. I wouldn’t… I don’t care who he fucks with. He’s different.
It’s me I’m so fucking worried about.
“Look, I’ll just… go and give you guys a couple of hours,” I say hoping it sounds somewhat like an apology. “Alright?” I might just walk around town and hope time flies by. I’m willing to do that, can’t he see that it’s an apology?
“Alright,” he says bluntly and he doesn’t even fucking look at me, just goes back inside.
Alright. Fuck you then. Hope you get herpes.
***
After a week of ignoring each other, ‘accidentally bumping shoulders, Scott ‘forgetting’ to drive me to work and me dyeing all of Scott’s white shirts pink, Clay decides to intervene. It was just starting to get interesting too.
“So?” he asks as he walks into my room, rests against the door and crosses his arms over his chest. I’m just trying to play on my laptop and ignore him but then he yanks my headphones off my ears and glares.
“What the fuck man?” I sigh. I didn’t take Clay for someone who invades people’s privacy. He never has before.
“You and Scott- Can you guys make up already? Please?” Clay pleads. “I’m tired of feeling uncomfortable in my own home because you guys are having a tiff over something.”
"It's not a tiff, it's a war," I mumble and Clay ignores me. If Scott wants to fight then fuck yeah, I'll fight. I apologised to him and he's acting like I hatecrimed him and Justin or whatever. I told him I don't care.
"Please? I hate to see you guys like this. You're best friends," Clay continues. He sighs, bows his head and I stare at my laptop screen. Scott and I are best friends but we're not acting like it. Not after he treated me like that.
"He doesn't wanna talk to me," I say. If I tried to speak to him he'd probably punch me. Scott can be like that, making a big deal out of nothing. And Clay thinks he should get involved too for some reason. What gives him the right? I look up and glare at him. "Did Scott send you?"
"What? No, I'm here because you guys are acting like preschoolers and I'm tired of it. Aren't you gonna be in college in September?" Clay asks and I roll my eyes. I don't need him to remind me. "You're gonna be 19 soon and acting like this won't get you anywhere."
"You sound like a dad." Not my dad but a dad, one that cares about his kid's future.
Clay smiles to himself and then he looks away. "So are you going to talk to him?" I don't reply. Clay groans. "Is this about Scott's boyfriend?"
I raise an eyebrow. "You know about that?" Great, when did he find out?
Clay nods. "I met him a while back. Before they broke up." So they both knew while I was in the dark. Glad Scott and Clay became all buddy-buddy. "Come on man, it's not a big deal," Clay says, stepping forward. "Who cares who he dates? He makes him happy, right? Let's just leave it."
I scoff. "I'm not fighting with him because he has a fucking boyfriend."
"It sounds like you are."
"Well, I'm not."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
Clay stares at me, I stare back.
“Fine! I'll talk to him! Happy?” Clay breaks into a grin as I toss my laptop to the side and then he steps aside and opens the door for me to let me pass. Now? I mean, uh… sure I guess…
I take a deep breath and walk out knowing that Scott is in his room because that’s where he has been this past week while we’ve been ignoring each other. I knock on the door hesitantly. He’ll tell me to fuck off, I know he will. At least I can tell Clay that I tried. And why did he come to me first? Couldn’t he have talked to Scott and-
“Uh. Hi.” Scott opens the door, he’s wearing an unbuttoned new white shirt and black jeans. He stares at me with a neutral expression.
“Hi.” This is fucking awkward. If that wasn’t enough, my eyes slide past him and focus on the person sitting on the edge of his unmade bed. Justin. He smiles nervously when he sees me.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I answer, already getting tired of the word. I didn’t even know Justin was around but I said it myself that I’d probably have to see him around more often. Scott bites his lips.
“Did you want something?”
I want to say no, leave him and his boyfriend to it but then I remember Clay and how he lives here too and we’re kinda putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “Yeah. If you have time.”
Scott turns to look at Justin, I do the same and try not to think about the things they must have done with each other. Boyfriends. So they probably fucked. Do they love each other? They must, right? And why did they break up the first time? Now they made up after about seven months or so.
“I’ll… wait in the living room,” Justin says and as he passes, he kisses Scott on the cheek. I look away.
Once he’s gone and Scott and I are alone in his room, I notice that they’re getting ready to go out. I mean I didn’t even glance at Justin but he looked nice, like he was dressed to go out. And Scott. Scott is wearing his new white shirt, one he got from work because somehow his shirts turned pink in the washing machine. Oops.
He buttons his shirt without looking at me and then reaches for the tie. “Talk then.”
“Clay said we’re pissing him off,” I say and Scott sighs deeply. Not gonna apologise when I already did, I’m just here to sort this thing out between us.
“You’re pissing me off,” Scott mutters while he keeps his eyes on his reflection in the mirror.
“And you’re pissing me off too,” I counter. I forgot what we’re even fighting about. “So can we just call it even and… go back to how it was? Pretend this never happened?” This usually works, it’s the closest thing to an apology and whenever we argue about something, this works. It always does.
Not this time.
“No, we can’t,” Scott says as he clears his throat. His dark blue tie rests neatly on his chest and he spins around to face me. “This isn’t some… argument about you failing a test-” Because he always had a problem when I failed a test. “-this is about me and Justin and I- You are my friend Monty but that’s not gonna last much longer if you can’t accept Justin,” he says with finality but I don’t speak because I know he’s got a lot more to say. Better than me opening my mouth and making this worse.
“And look, I know your dad wasn’t exactly… supportive of this sort of thing or whatever and you- you were kind of a dick about it in junior year but then you were different when you moved in with me,” Scott goes on with something like disappointment in his voice.
I remember junior year, Scott was a senior and I mostly hung out with the seniors because they were part of the football team and we just go along. I could get away with saying most of the homophobic shit I said, I’d make a comment, they’d laugh and then after, Scott would pull me aside and be like ‘dude, don’t say things like that, alright’. I understand why now.
“And you were sixteen then so alright, whatever. But you’re not sixteen anymore,” Scott goes on and he bites his lip nervously. “You’re not a child so if you have a problem with me or my boyfriend, you can pack your bags and leave.”
Woah woah woah woah, where did that come from? “Don’t kick me out dude!” I panic.
“I’m not,” Scott replies with a blank stare. “I’m just saying… if you have a problem-”
“I don’t!” I cut it. Sure okay, it was a little weird at first. Still is. Two guys together. And I’ve seen him with so many girls before this. This is weird. “I’m just… surprised. I wasn’t… expecting this so just give me time to get used to it,” I say as calmly as I can.
Will I get used to it? This is still Scott we’re talking about, he hasn’t changed just because he likes cock. Just a little. He’s only half gay. I can deal with that. And he’s got a boyfriend, not like he’d come onto me. He never has before.
Slowly, he nods. “Alright.”
Then there’s silence because neither of us knows what to say. At least I’m not being kicked out. Whatever. I’ll deal with it. I’ll get used to it. I hope Clay is happy.
“So I should…” I gesture towards the door. Scott steps in my way.
“Wait, um, we’re actually going to meet some of Justin’s friends. I mean, I know them but we’re just hanging out,” Scott rambles and then he runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m so fucking nervous man. I haven’t seen any of them in months.”
“I could go with you,” I offer. If meeting up with some college losers is all it takes to get back on Scotty’s good side, I’ll do it. Fuck, I don’t wanna fight with him over this thing.
Scott searches my face and nibbles at his lip. “You sure? They can be a little… pushy.”
I pull a face. Pushy. Pushy people and I didn’t get along. “It’s alright… I’ll just smack them if they start being annoying.”
“Monty!”
“I’m kidding... I think,” I say and then look at Scotty who has paled like a ghost. “Jesus man, relax.” He then starts fiddling with his tie. “And why are you wearing a tie? Is this like a dinner thing? Should I wear a suit?” Not that I had one but maybe I could borrow something from Clay. Don’t wanna look homeless around Justin’s ‘pushy’ friends.
“What? No, we’re just hanging out at this bar that’s not really a bar it’s just- I don’t know man.” Scott goes over to his bed and sits down with his head in his hands. “What am I gonna do?”
“First of all take that suit off ‘cause you look like you’re going to a funeral.”
“My relationship’s funeral,” Scott mumbles from behind his hands. I wack his shoulder to snap him out of it. He needs to get up and stop acting like this. “Ow! What the hell man?”
I tell him to get changed again and as Scott rubs his shoulder, I slowly make my way towards the door hoping that he’s already forgotten about me going with them.
“So we’re going in like twenty minutes, be ready by then,” Scott adds and I sigh loudly. I got myself into this.
Then about half an hour later we’re in Scott’s car and he and Justin keep whispering to each other in the front seat. He’s still wearing the white shirt but with no tie, unbuttoned at the top and a jean jacket thrown over it. Less funeraly.
“So how did you guys meet?” I attempt to start the conversation because I’m feeling really left out. I think I might just get drunk when we get there.
“College,” Scott answers simply and then goes back to whispering.
What the fuck? Is he still mad at me? I thought we sorted it out. So I say nothing until we get to this so-called bar that’s pretty much a restaurant. Then Scott only makes it worse. He tells Justin to go in front of us, puts his arm around my shoulder and goes, “Could you not say anything… too problematic?”
I glare at him. “Are you scared I’ll embarrass you?” Okay yeah, it happened a few times but that was the past. Clean slate, right? This is the new and accepting Monty who’s apparently okay with his best friend sucking dick. He wouldn’t take it up the ass though, would he? That’s not him.
“No! No, all I’m saying is that…” Scott trails off while looking around. “Justin’s friends can be very opinionated so just… don’t talk too much.”
“What am I here for then?” I ask as we reach the front door of the restaurant. Justin has stopped and he’s waiting for us inside.
Scott takes a deep breath. “So I feel better with you there. Just back me up if anything happens, yeah?”
I nod. I will. That's what I came for right? Back him up. Like I do since the day I met him. Easy.
Justin's friends are already here and they have a table outside on the supposed balcony. A fucking balcony. This is a goddamn restaurant and Scott knows it, he just didn't want me to freak out about this. Well I am freaking out.
Of course Justin's friends know I'm coming, he had to call them to ask if it was okay for me to come. And I'm still a nerve wreck 'cause they're new people, this is a new setting and I'm here with Scotty and his boyfriend. It can't get worse than this.
Turns out it can.
They have a table in the far corner, one of the biggest ones. On one side of the table is a set of chairs and on the other, a built-in couch with light brown seats. I can clearly see three people occupying the set of chairs. A girl and two guys, one has light brown messy hair and the other one… he looks familiar, or at least the back of his head does. Black curly hair styled nearly.
"Okay," Justin says under his breath like he's preparing himself and I've known the guy for like an hour but I've never seen him be this nervous. Then he glances at Scott and grins before walking over to his friend's table. "Hey, guys!"
Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck of fuck. Fucking fuck.
The universe must hate me, I've gotta have done something evil in my past life to deserve this. Why… why does this keep happening to me?
The guy with the dark hair turns around and he doesn't see me, he's greeting Justin. They're friends. What in the world? How can they be friends? Out of all the billions of people that could be Justin's friend- it had to be Winston.
“Hide me,” I hiss at Scott but he just gives me a weird look and steps forward to join his boyfriend. I’m third-wheeling. Great. This is just fucking fantastic.
I watch as they greet each other, hugging, shaking hands and grinning. I consider slipping away and never coming back because would they miss me? Doubt it. I should go. Leaving. Now. Move. But Winston-”
“And this is my friend Monty,” Scott introduces me with a small nod. All eyes are on me. Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, grey eyes and oh fuck. Hazel eyes. He’s got hazel eyes.
The guy with the floppy brown hair smiles at me. "I'm Jeff." he says and holds his hand out. He was sitting on the far right but now he's standing right next to Winston’s seat while he greets us.
I shake his hand and then the girl who's standing on the other side introduces herself as Hannah.
Lastly, they all glance at Winston who introduces himself through gritted teeth like he wishes he was anywhere but here. No, trust me I'd rather be dead than here, having dinner with you and your silly friends. The feeling’s mutual it seems.
I end up sitting opposite him which isn't that terrible, I could have been sitting next to him but I'm not. At least we won't be close close. Close enough to smell his cologne, see the lighter parts of his eyes and have our legs touch under the table.
Jeff tells us that he already ordered for us while they were waiting and Scott acts like it's the best thing to happen since sliced bread was invented but all I can think about is how I'll have to eat this trashy food that a snob ordered for me.
I'll admit that I love leeching off rich people, they have the money anyway so what's the harm, right? But he could have at least let me order something I like. If that waiter starts carrying a plate of frog legs towards us I'm out of here.
I try to pay attention to the conversation they're having. College. I'm not in college yet, I will be soon. Jeff's on the baseball team, wants to play for the Yankees one day and Hannah, his girlfriend, wants to live in New York so it all works out for them. Congrats or whatever. I don't really care.
"Winston here wants to go to France," someone says and they've got my attention. France? I look at Winston across the table but he's purposely avoiding eye contact. Snob. Shit he smells good.
"I think it'd be cool," he says casually with a shrug and that's that. Nothing else. That's his contribution to the conversation? I mean all I've said is- nah, I haven't even said hello but. He could at least try to make conversation.
"He's going there for the cute French boys," Justin then adds with a smirk and Winston blushes and looks down at his lap. Boys. Knew he was gay. Fucking knew it. He's gay. Into guys.
Justin and Jeff laugh and fortunately for Winston, our food arrives shortly after so we don't have to talk about him and cute French boys anymore.
France. What do I know about France? I shouldn't have used geography classes for nap time. France? I know Paris is there. And apparently the French boys are 'cute'. Winston didn't even try to deny it.
I eat my roast chicken slowly. Wouldn't want to finish early and be forced into conversation. Not when Jeff starts talking about his family and how his dad is a big Yankees supporter. Who cares? This couldn’t be more awkward.
Scott knows them so he just engages in the conversation like he would with anyone. Occasionally, he looks my way and says something like, “Oh, Monty here loves baseball,” and tries to engage me in conversation. I don’t. I came here and that should be enough.
I try to figure some shit out about Winston - do his friends know that he masturbates for money? What do they know? But they rarely talk about Winston (the main focus is Scott and Justin) but when they do, he just shrugs and makes a small comment. Not very helpful.
“So where do you go to college?” I find myself asking and everyone stops talking. For fuck’s sake. Winston looks up, I can’t tell if he’s surprised or annoyed but Jeff is giving me a look and I don’t wanna know what he’s thinking.
Winston looks at me and then he looks down at his plate. “I don’t go to college.”
Oh. Well. Right.
“He was supposed to go to Princeton - he’s a legacy after all - but he wanted to do his own thing so he paints in his spare time,” Jeff buts in when Winston says nothing else. He probably doesn’t want me to think that his buddy is a useless freak that does nothing all day, that couldn’t get into Princeton.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Winston then says. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and leaves the table at this convenient time. I have half a mind to follow him there because something doesn’t add up. Why wouldn’t he want to go to Princeton? Maybe they found his porn videos and excluded him? Sounds like it.
Three minutes later he comes back, mumbles something about not feeling well and Jeff tells him to get some rest so he leaves. Jeff is more interested in him than his actual girlfriend. Faggots.