Rock N Soul (19 page)

“Oh,” I said, tilting my head at the screen like that was going to help me process the video any better. “That’s . . . unexpected.”

Chris stood up and punched the wall, which did nothing to either damage my apartment or his fist since his hand went right through.

I cleared my throat again since it suddenly felt extra tight. “That’s . . . a cock.”

“Thank you, Sherlock,” he snapped. “Close the fucking video.”

I started to say
That cock is in your ass
, but that seemed excessively obvious. Instead I just peered at the man who was pounding Chris doggy-style. “Holy shit, is that Gabriel Sinclair?”

“Yes,” he grumbled, then sat back down and ground his teeth. “Clearly.”

“You boned Gabriel Sinclair,” I said, just for clarification’s sake. “Well, I mean, he boned you. I guess.”

He gave me a hostile glare, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “Are you going to be a fuck-wad about this?”

“Probably, yeah,” I said. “But I mean, do what you gotta do, man. Or who you gotta do. Just know that I’ll rag you about it.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “You’re just making this even more awkward.”

I looked at the screen again. Gabriel had his nails dug into Chris’s hips and was holding him in place while he fucked him, fairly slowly but apparently pretty hard. Video-Chris had his eyes closed and was moaning with each thrust, trying to rock his hips back to take Gabriel even deeper. “You . . .”

“I told you not to watch it,” he said petulantly. “Now close it and we can pretend it never happened.”

“You’re, um, gay?” Video-Chris clenched his hands in the sheets and moaned louder. Gabriel was muttering meaningless sex things about tightness and God, and my own cock started pressing hard against the bottom of the laptop.

“No,” he muttered. “And that’s exactly why I never told anybody. You tell anybody that you like getting fucked in the ass and they assume that’s
all
you like. And I do like girls. A lot.”

“Okay.” I moved my hips slightly to try to take the computer’s weight off of my boner. “So bisexual, then?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I mean, clearly.” He motioned vaguely at the screen but didn’t look at it.

“There’s no shame in that.”

“I know there’s not. But the entertainment industry disagrees with us.”

“So . . . you fucked your girlfriend’s brother,” I said.

“Shut your mouth,” he said. “Me and Tori . . . we were in an off-again phase at that point. And anyway, Gabe and I were just fooling around. It didn’t mean anything.”

Gabriel was speeding up his thrusts now, the steady rhythm he’d been following earlier starting to stutter and become irregular. He looked down at the place where their bodies joined and groaned, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would look like, what it would
feel
like.

Chris was watching the screen again, apparently encouraged by the fact that I hadn’t tried to lynch him for being a homosexual yet. “He was, um, pretty good too,” he said, softly.

I gave a breathy little chuckle. “I can tell.”

Gabriel slammed into Chris and clenched his eyes shut, then came so hard you could see his whole body twitch. Video-Chris yelled out and shifted his weight onto one hand so he could reach down and jack himself with the other.

“You might want to click away,” Chris said, his voice sort of raw. “If seeing me jizz would be weird for you.”

“I can handle it,” I said, my eyes glued to the screen. Somewhere far in the back of my mind, a warning bell went. I ignored that bell.

Gabriel started to pull out, but Video-Chris slammed his hips back. “Stay in,” he moaned. “Just another second, I’m so fucking close . . .”

Gabriel whimpered and pushed his already softening cock back into Chris, who groaned loudly and then started coming onto the bedsheets. The arm that was holding him up gave out and his face hit the bed, which only muffled the moaning a little bit. Gabriel held himself inside until Chris went limp, then pulled out and flipped Chris over onto his back. He climbed up over him and kissed him deeply, pressing their bodies together.

I did click away then. “Um . . .”

Chris picked at a thread that had come loose on the couch. He didn’t say anything.

My cock was straining against my pants, and even the slight friction of moving the laptop off of it sent a spike of energy through my body. “Um . . .” I said again, then put the computer onto the cushion beside me and stood. “Two minutes.”

Chris glanced up at me, searching my face, then let his eyes slide down to my obvious tent, which was completely and unambiguously against the Bro Code, but we seemed pretty far past that at this point. I gave him an embarrassed smile, and he nodded.

I practically ran to the bathroom. It didn’t take anywhere near two minutes.

When I came back out into the living room, Chris had regained some of his composure. “So,” he said. “You’re bi, too? I mean, I don’t know your life or anything, but you did just jerk off to gay porn, so I figure you’re at least bi-curious.”

I shrugged and plopped down onto the couch. “I guess so.”

“Have you ever, you know . . .” He waved his hand unhelpfully in the air.

“Fucked a dude?” I finished for him. “No, I haven’t. I mean, I’ve made out with a couple of them. But we didn’t get past second base.”

He whistled. “I figured you for a straight guy.”

“Yeah,” I allowed. “I mean, I guess I’m mostly straight. Like eighty percent of the people I’m attracted to are women. But there’s the occasional dude who gets me going.”

“Like Gabriel Sinclair, apparently.” He gave me a lopsided smile.

It wasn’t Gabriel who had gotten my dick so hard, but I wasn’t going to tell
Chris
that. Especially since I hadn’t quite worked out if it was Chris himself I’d been turned on by or just, you know, sitting there watching porn. After all, when I was watching the videos of him with Evie and Valerie, I was mostly watching the boobs. So maybe it wasn’t Chris. Maybe I was just horny.

But still, the sounds Chris had been making and the way my cock had responded when he came . . . it hadn’t
not
turned me on. That much was absolutely certain.

I realized I hadn’t answered him. “I guess he’s attractive enough. I hadn’t really ever thought about him like that before.” Which was true. I wasn’t a huge fan of the guy’s band—they were too sentimental to be real
rock
—and so I really hadn’t given him much thought at all, even in a nonsexual way.

“He’s a pretty good fuck,” Chris said. “I’ve done him too. I’m not just a bottom.”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t really matter if you were. I don’t judge.”

Chris raised an eyebrow and gave me a “bitch, please” look.

I laughed. “Well, okay, I totally judge. But not because I’m not cool with you being whatever you want to be. Just because I like messing with you.”

“Well,” he said, “that’s appreciated.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “See, we can be civil to each other.”

He smiled, and I smiled back, and then neither of us said anything for a little while.

“This feels like awkward after-sex talk,” he said. “I feel like I should be putting my pants back on and promising I’d call you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t call.”

“I did sometimes,” he said. “I mean, not for the groupies unless they were
really
amazing. But for the ones I knew outside of bed, I usually called.”

“How very chivalrous of you,” I said, then motioned vaguely at his crotch while making absolutely sure not to look where I was pointing. “Do you need a turn in the bathroom?”

“Nah,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “Turns out ghosts can jerk off after all.”

“Dude, you jerked off
on my couch
?”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Apparently ghost spunk disappears after it leaves my body.”

My eyes widened a little bit without my permission. “It does?”

“Well, it glowed blue on the couch for a few seconds, but yeah, it disappeared,” he said. “And it’s a good thing, too, because I wasn’t sure how I was going to clean it up if it didn’t.”

“I am
not
cleaning ghost jizz off of my furniture,” I said. “So yeah, you’re very lucky it went away.”

After seeing the video, I didn’t have any trouble picturing what Chris would look like when he came. That thought was both incredibly weird and pretty exciting. I focused on the weird.

“So did you and Eric . . .” I trailed off intentionally, motioning at the computer.

“No,” he said, after a very interesting beat of silence. “No, we never did.”

“That doesn’t sound especially convincing.”

He frowned. “Well, we didn’t. We didn’t do anything. We didn’t even kiss. Eric is hella straight, I guess. At least he never gave me any indication that he wasn’t.”

“Did he know about you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Chris said, then ran a hand through his hair. “I came out to him when I was sixteen, after I’d had my first gay experience. And once we’d made it big, I wasn’t that discreet. It’s a miracle none of the gossip channels ever got wind of it. There was one time that I’m pretty sure I fucked a roadie in my dressing room without even closing the door.”

“Wow,” I said, because that was the only response I could think of.

“That one’s not on tape, though,” he pointed out. “I don’t have very many from when I was high. The camera seemed too complicated to fuck with then.” He paused, tilted his head. “I was always careful, though. You know. With protection.”

“I see.” I sighed and leaned against the back of the couch, gazing up at the ceiling. I was tired of talking about his drug habit, so I wanted to change the subject, but things seemed a little . . . soft. Fuzzy around the edges in the way that only a good orgasm can cause. And he was right: it felt like the two of us had actually fucked. There’s something not entirely platonic about two dudes coming at the same time after watching the same porn, even if they’re in different rooms when it happens.

So instead of changing the subject, what I said was: “Would you want to fuck me if you could?”

Which was dumb. I knew that the minute I said it. But it was too late by then.

Instead of answering immediately, he looked up at the ceiling too and seemed to consider the question, which was even more awkward than the quick, embarrassed stammering I’d expected. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, probably. I’m kind of a slut.”

I nodded slowly. “Cool,” I said. “I was just curious.”

“Do you bottom?” he asked. “Or would you want to top? I’m just trying to imagine it here.”

I blushed and hoped he didn’t notice it. “I told you I’ve never had sex with a guy.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “But . . . you’ve thought about it, right?”

I nodded again. “I mean . . . I guess you never know what you’ll like until you try it. But I’d be willing to give bottoming the old college try.”

He stared at me for a long time before he spoke again. “I wonder if I could kiss you.”

My cock gave an exhausted twitch at that, but something in my throat tightened and I shook my head. “Don’t,” I said. “It doesn’t feel right. Not after . . .” I motioned at the computer. “Not after that. It would just complicate things. If it even worked.”

He sat back in his seat, which made me realize that he’d been leaning forward since he’d asked if I would bottom for him. I could feel every centimeter of the distance between us, and it made me strangely unhappy.

Chris bit his bottom lip for a moment. “You’re right. I only thought about it because it’s been a while since I’ve had sex.”

I let out an awkward chuckle. “Me too, man. I mean, it’s not like I can really have sex with you in the room with me. I’m not into exhibitionism.”

“You could, you know,” he said. “I mean, I’d wait outside. I don’t want to totally ruin your life. We can work out a sock system or something.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m sort of shit at picking up chicks. It was a miracle I got Carmen.”

“You’ve been doing pretty well with Gemma so far,” he pointed out.

I thought of Gemma then, with her pretty wavy hair and her sarcastic smile. With a heaping dose of luck, I could probably talk her into bed with me if I really wanted to. But now there was Chris, who complicated things even when he wasn’t watching my lips and possibly mapping how his might fit against them.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s nice and she’s hot and all, but I don’t really want a relationship and I doubt she’d fuck me without one.”

He nodded. “You’re right. She did seem like the type who doesn’t bone indiscriminately.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But still, thanks. I might take you up on your offer to wait outside sometime.”

“No problem.”

“So . . .” I said, “do you want to watch more
Supernatural
?”

He shot me a disbelieving look. “You said you’d rather have your earlobes eaten off by rats than watch that show ever again.”

“I only said that after you’d forced me to binge-watch it for days,” I told him. “And since I’ve had a little time off, I could be convinced to watch a few more episodes.”

Chris sat there for a few seconds with an odd look on his face, like he was holding back. Then he smiled a huge smile. “Let’s watch it.”