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Ian: You're not gonna regret this dude. Might wanna stock up on prophylactics before we go, because you're going to be drowning in cock.

Friday Night...

Narrator: It's Ian's turn to wing for you. You drive over to Charlie's, feeling your stomach twist. Ian is chatty and filled with enthusiasm.

Ian: Dude, you're pretty quiet. Everything okay?

Adam: Yeah, I'm fine. A little nervous.

Ian: Hey, you just relax, dude. Don't be surprised if I get you in the middle of your orgy tonight.

Adam: Ian, I'd just be fine meeting one guy who has decent hygiene and isn't a felon.

Ian: Okay, bro, you don't wanna to be too picky. Let's keep our options open for now. (reaches over and ruffles Adam's hair)

Adam: Cut it out, man. I'm driving!

Narrator: Ian tussles your hair again so you punch his shoulder.

Ian: (smiling) Ow! Shit!

Narrator: You didn't intend to punch him, but the fact is, you're getting hard from his touching you. The last time you came here, it was a low-key, chill Sunday night. Ian walks in confidently, quick to scope the scene and size up prospects. You follow, wishing you were half as assertive as him. It feels like a thousand eyes are staring at you. Your eyes drift to a three-dude table in the corner. One of them, wearing a denim jacket, catches you eyeing him and gives a sly grin. Ian comes back with a drink.

Ian: I think someone tried to grab my ass! At least he offered to buy me a drink, though. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel.

Adam: Ok, look. I think I'd like to talk to the guy in the denim jacket over there. You think you can chat him up?

Ian: Really? Jean jacket guy? Doesn't it seems like he's trying too hard? It's not the 80s. Don't you want someone in the now?

Adam: Oh fine. I'll talk to his friends in the black shirt. He's not bad, either.

Ian: Sure, if you like pornstaches. I swear, ironic facial hair should be a capital offense.

Adam: When did you get some judgemental?

Ian: Dude, I'm trying to screen the riff-raff off.

Adam: The guy with glasses then. Is he inoffensive enough for you?

Ian: No way Adam. That guy's way too unoffensive. The guy looks like he competes in 'the most boring man alive' contests.

Adam: Ian please.

Ian: Okay, wait, dude. I'm sorry.

Narrator: You can't hear the conversation, but as Ian speaks to them, you just can't make out their expressions. Their faces seem to transform from amused interest to genuine bewilderment as Ian continues talking. You expect Ian to wave you over, but he seems to be taking his sweet ass time. You really need to piss badly. You finally can't take it any more and head for the bathroom.

Penny was right, the bathrooms are swankier than you expected. You take a moment to admire the marble as you use the urinal. A sign beside it reads, 'ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING IN HERE. ESPECIALLY YOU DALE.' When you exit the bathroom, you're surprised to see a line of guys outside the bar. You see Ian in the front of the line, surrounded by a crowd.

Man: Hey! The line starts back here, buddy!

Adam: The line for what?

Man: A chance to hook up with some guy. Well, the rumor is that he's packing a monster. His friend in the blue shirt is conducting interviews to see who gets a crack at him. Eleven inches, one inch shy of the King's Foot.

Adam: SHIT.

Man: Hey, you heard me! No cutting in line. You gotta wait your turn.

Adam: Look, I am the guy, okay. You're waiting in line for me.

Narrator: His eye drop to your crotch. He squints.

Man: A grower, huh?

Adam: Thanks for making a complete cluster fuck of my night, Ian.

Ian: Cluster fuck? Dude, look around you! There are at least 20 guys who want a crack at you.

Adam: Only because you told them I have a monster cock!

Ian: It's called the magic of marketing. You want truth in advertising? Fine. How big is it, dude?

Narrator: The bar grows quiet. All eyes turn to you.

Adam: Err-You know it's perfectly adequate. It's uh-

Man: Just say the fucking number!

Adam: Well, uh, haha, it might not be eleven inches. But-

Man: Gentlemen, we've been deceived by charlatans. (The sounds of angry voices can be heard as sound effects.) You two should be filled with the deepest sense of shame and remorse.

Ian: Satisfied, dude?

Adam: Satisfied by what? This isn't winging. This is closer to sabotage.

Ian: I'm just trying to help.

There is a choice, but the other leaves to the Amos route.

Narrator: You leave the bar, wondering if your night can get any worse. Ian follows you out. The drive home is tense.

Ian: Dude?

Adam: Don't dude me.

Ian: Bro?

Adam: Don't bro me, either.

Ian: Brah? Dudebro? Bromeo?

Adam: Stop talking, Ian.

Narrator: You're still livid when you reach the apartment.

Ian: Look, I'm sorry, okay? Next time we'll go, I'll-

Adam: There IS no next time, Ian! You're not winging for me any more.

Ian: Why not?

Adam: Oh I dunno, maybe because you made me a pariah of the only gay bar in 50 miles.

Ian: You're overreacting now. I doubt any of those guys would've made it past the second round of interviews anyway.

Adam: Second round? Ian, I'm just looking for a date! I'm not trying to settle down and get married, for fuck's sake!

Ian: Do you want to end up with a creep? You know how a lot of guys are. They've got an agenda. All they want is one thing.

 
Ian: ....I-I don't believe you.

Adam: Will you stop second-guessing me?!

Ian: Dude, I know you're the kind of guy who can just sleep around without getting his heart ripped in half.

Adam: Sleep around? At this rate I'll be lucky if I can get beyond a handshake.

Ian: What's wrong with a handshake? It fosters trust between men.

Adam: You're crazy.

Ian: Ok, so you want a hook-up? Wham, bam, thank-you Sam.

Adam: So let's see, choices are between and handshake and a hook-up. You know, there's a thing called a date. Where you can like, have conversations and stuff. You can even kiss.

Narrator: Before you can utter a word, Ian grabs your face and kisses you on the lips.

Ian: There you go, asshole! Your kiss. Happy?!

Adam: Maybe. I'm not sure.

Narrator: Instinctively, you kiss him back, melting into his body.


I acidently used this pic for the frat house scene, but here it is again.

Narrator: He groans into your mouth, kissing you harder. You don't know what to think anymore, only that you don't want to stop any more. Abruptly, you feel him push away as he backs off.

Ian: Shit.

Adam: Hey-

Ian: ...

Adam: Ian?

Narrator: He storms off into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Your mind reels. Stunned, you sit on the couch, and put your head into your hands.

Saturday...

Narrator: When you get up, it's almost noon. The memory of last night makes you wince. You feel like shit. Hungry and lost in thought, you drag yourself into the kitchen.

Penny: So I finally tracked down the store that's got, you know... (lowers her voice to whisper) That THING Ian wants for his birthday.

Adam: Mm. Hmmm.

Penny: It's kind of pricey, but between the two of us, I think we can afford it. Oh shit, here he comes. Don't spill the beans!

Ian: Hey.

Narrator: You're paralyzed by a cocktail of emotions. Longing, trepidation, desire, frustration. You want to say something, anything. All you can say is-

Adam: Hey.

Ian: I-

Adam: You-

Ian: It's-

Adam: We-

Ian and Adam: ...

Ian: I gotta go. I'm gonna be late.

Penny: (looks upset) Uh...Was that performance art? About really bad phone reception? What's going on?

Adam: Uh, nothing.

Narrator: You scratch the back of your head.

Adam: Bro talk.

The weekend question was the usual.

Monday...

Narrator: For the next few days, things between you and Ian are awkward to say the least. He's barely around, so you try messaging him for a chat. He blows you off, saying he's late for work. You try to catch him when you can.

Friday...

Narrator: Time to relax and get your mind off this drama. You send Penny a text.

Adam: Hey, wanna do something tonight?

Penny: I wish. I gotta pull and all-nighter at the lab to get my beta ready this weekend.

Narrator: Your heart sinks.

Adam: (thinking) Don't give me the side-eye, Steve. Wait, fish can't give the side-eye, can they? Anyway, I'm tired of sitting by and moping. I'm going to put myself out there tonight. Grab life by the testicles and give it an amicable squeeze. First I'm going to update my Brofinder pic. That's right, I'm going to put on my 'fuck-me' sweater and taking a pic.

Two hours later...

Adam: Why can't I find the right lighting?! (you hear sounds)

Narrator: You walk out to the living room, looking alarmed. Ian staggers on wobbly legs. The strong smell of beer indicates he's very, very wasted.

Adam: Please tell me you didn't drive yourself home.

Ian: Hellll no. I got a ride from Zoe. Yeah, she and I were talking about...stuff.

Adam: Um. Wow. Talking's always cool. I guess.

Narrator: Ian stumbles forward. You catch him and steer him towards his room. You do the Awkward Shuffle with the Wasted Friend down the hall. He bumps into you, giggling. God, his fucking body. You hate yourself right now for being so aware of it. How your hair stands out whenever he brushes against you. Cursing the universe silently, you leave Ian disoriented, standing in the middle of his bedroom.

You turn back to see Ian struggling to take off his shirt. One arm hangs out through the neck hole of his shirt like an alien from a low-budget b-movie.



Ian: Halllp meee...

Narrator: You decide to yank off Ian's shirt before he strangles himself with it.

Ian: Freedom!

Narrator: You wish you could laugh. But all you feel is your enraged dick straining through your pants. You're not thinking about the bulge in his jeans, not at all.

Adam: Ok, I'm leaving, man.

Ian: Wait! I've *belch* been such a dick to you, dude.

Adam: Look, maybe we should have his conversation later when you're not completely trashed.

Ian: But I'm not completely trashed. But listen, dude, I'm really sorry. I'm speaking from the depth of my soul here.

Adam: I, uh, gotta go. (you leave)

Narrator: You start stripping off your clothes, anxious to relieve yourself when you hear a knock on the door. Ian lets himself in and stumbles over to your bed.

Ian: Dude, I've been such a shitty friend. I've went overboard, didn't I?

Adam: A tad, perhaps.

Ian: God, after waiting this long to come out, you must be dying for tons of action, amirite?

 
Narrator: He takes a seat beside you on the bed, slumping over, gazing at you with a sleepy expression. It's not as if this is the first time you've seen him shirtless, but tonight you find yourself fighting one dirty thought over another.

Ian: You know, your bed is a way lot more comfortable than mine.

Adam: Maybe because I don't have a bunch of stale chips grounded into it. I don't know how you talked those girls into you bed the other night. That thing is a biohazard.

Ian: Dude, I never told you how the night went, did I?

Narrator: You consider the question, wondering if hearing him jabber about some girl would make you less horny.

 
Narrator: Ian smiles at you, his eyes searching your face.

Ian: So during this three-way, I'm like switching off between these two girls.

Narrator: Looking giddy, he crawls into bed next to your body, apparently quite eager to regale you about his conquest.

Ian: Holly's laying on the bottom and Molly is on top of her.

Narrator: You scoot over. Your bed has just enough of room for the two of you to lie side by side, without touching.

Adam: You don't need to go into explicit detail.

Narrator: He lies back, he face towards the ceiling, tucking one hand underneath his hand, while the other absently stokes his chest. You make a concentrated effort not to stare at him. Slipping your hand underneath the sheet, you push your cock aside to relieve the pressure.

Ian: Look, I'm not telling you all of this to brag, dude. It that's what you're thinking. What I really wanted to tell you what was in my head at the time.

Adam: Oh yeah? What was in your head, Ian?

Ian: Our kiss. At the party. I've wanted to kiss you forever.

Adam: (blushes) ...

Ian: I was so turned on. And, don't hate me, dude, but I was thinking of you when I came. I'm sorry.

Narrator: You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The room is silent. You tremble. You wonder if Ian can hear your heart beating.

Ian: I've never gotten such a boner from one stupid kiss, you know? (he laughs) Well, aside from the one after that night at the bar.

Narrator: He sighs and turns over, facing away from you. You lift your head to look at you. Ian's shoulders, broad and smooth, invite your touch. In the light you can see the undulations of his back, narrowing into the V that disappears into his jeans.

Adam: Ian. You lying sack of shit. Tell me you're joking. Ian?

Narrator: You want to roll him over, have him look into your eyes and tell you he was joking. Repeat it a million times to assure you're not dreaming.

Adam: Ian!

Narrator: You touch his shoulder, shaking it gently, and he responds, murmuring. You panic as he turns, smiles, wraps his arms around you, buries his head against your chest, and sighs.

Adam: Mmf!

Narrator: He presses his warn skin against yours. You inhale the scent of his neck, a heady olfactory cocktail of sweat and alcohol. You're swooning. Dizzy. Frozen. Ian closes his eyes and breathes deeply, his chest raising and falling against your body.

Adam: (awkward smile) ...

Narrator: Then his body relaxes. He seems to have passed out. You don't know how long you lie there, afraid to move, arms entwined, his head in the crook of your neck. You study the soft curl of his eyelashes, his pillowy lips, slightly open, resting inches away from yours. You feel an overwhelming urge to kiss him.

 
Narrator: Your heart beating in your throat, you plant a kiss on his lips. You taste a mix of saliva and beer, the sensation flooding your mind. Ian murmurs. He looks at you with half-lidded eyes with a grin.

Ian: Mmm...

Narrator: Your cock stirs. You pry his lips apart with your tongue, slipping it in to taste the inside of his mouth. Ian murmurs again. His mouth widens, his jaw opening fully. You bury your tongue in his mouth. Your hands reach for his body. His eyes flutter open in surprise. He backs away like he's been slapped.


Ian: Dude. What are you doing?

Adam: I'm sorry. I just thought-

Narrator: Ian scrambles out of your bed.

Ian: Dude!

Adam: Ian...

Narrator: You hear the sound of his door slamming shut.

Adam: (thinking) Shit.

Saturday morning...

Narrator: You wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door.

Adam: Ian?

Penny: Well, I got the gift. (places box on your desk)

Adam: The gift.

Penny: Ian's birthday gift, silly. I picked it up yesterday. Just be sure to bring it to the restaurant tomorrow. And it still needs to be wrapped.

Adam: Okay, I can do that. I can get him a card, too. (glances at box) I can't believe we're getting him this.

Penny: (rolls eyes) Don't look at me. It was on the top of his wish list.

Monday...

Narrator: After classes, you head over to Honey's with Penny. You're feeling tense. Also, a bit conspicuous holding the bag with Ian's gift tucked inside.

Penny: You know, I haven't seen Ian all weekend. Is he busy with work or something?

Adam: Uh, yeah, that's probably it.

Penny: He possibly couldn't have forgotten is birthday, right?

Adam: That'd be unlikely. It's his favorite time of the year. (he tries to keep the nervousness out of his voice) Try texting him again.

Narrator: Penny punches a few numbers on her phone. You wait, pacing, growing more and more antsy.You haven't spoke with Penny with what's going on between you and Ian.

Adam: Hey, Penny, I-

Penny: FINALLY!

Ian: Hi guys. Sorry I'm late.

Narrator: Both of you glance at each other and quickly avert your eyes.

Penny: Well, I hope you're starving. Let's eat!

A little later...

Penny: What have you been up to, Ian? We barely see you any more. Oh, I know. Are you seeing some and haven't told us? That must be it. You're always shy when you're into somebody new. She must be super cute. Are you trying to pull one over us? You can't hide her away forever! Spill the beans, Ian! Or don't! I could find out who this mystery girl is. I'm pretty sharp when it comes to detective work.

Narrator: Ian stares at his soup bowl for a moment, seemingly fascinate by a basil leaf skimming its surface. Finally he looks up.

Ian: I'm going away with Zoe this weekend.

Penny: Whoa, seriously? You guys are getting back together?

Narrator: You stare at Ian across the table. You feel like you've been kicked in the nuts. He avoids meeting your eyes.

Ian: We're working out a few things.

Narrator: You fold your napkin over and over in your lap, struggling to sound casual.

Adam: Where are you guys going?

Ian: Vegas. She's taking me there for my birthday.

Adam: That sounds fun. Have a great trip.

Penny: Um, ok. Well then...Adam, let's give Ian his gift.

Ian: Gift? You guys shouldn't have. You're already getting me lunch.

Narrator: Penny rolls her eyes, grabs the bag next to your feet and hands it to Ian. He peers into the bag.

Penny: We saw it at the top of your wishlist. The Jack Buddy! It's the deluxe model.

Ian: Uh-

Narrator: He slowly looks at the gift and then at you.

Ian: Um, this kind of looks like your hand, dude.

Penny: Oh my God. It does not! (Checks out your hand and the toy's.) HAHAHA! Oh my God! It kinda does! Right down to the hair around the knuckles.

Ian: What are you trying to insinuate here?

 
Second one actually; being aggressive doesn't seem to be the best approach this time.
 
Ian: A little awkward?!

Adam: It's not a big deal. You don't need to get your undies in a knot over it!

Ian: I gotta go.

Narrator: Throwing his napkin on the chair, Ian gets up and leaves.

Penny: Alright. What the hell is going on between you two?

Adam: * sigh *

Penny: Oh boy. That look on your face is telling me that I need to get another glass of wine. Maybe a whole bottle.

One bottle later...

Adam: So, yeah, that's what's been going on. What's your take on this?

Penny: Well, let me get this out of the way first. HOLY SHIT. Aside from that, you guys need a serious heart-to-heart.

Adam: Maybe if he ever talks to me. Aside from that one drunken night, he's never home, he doesn't answer texts. he's totally been avoiding me.

Penny: I'd say give him a few days. Talk to him when you guys aren't feeling edgy and emotional.

Tuesday...

Narrator: A strange stillness settles in the apartment. Ian seems to be staying clear of you, while Penny spends nights at the lab. You'd normally savor the peace and quiet, but these days, you just feel isolated.

Friday...

Narrator: That afternoon, you hear noises coming from Ian's room. He's home, which is a rare occurrence these days. You realize that he's probably packing his things for his weekend trip with Zoe.

 
Narrator: You hear Ian walk out. You figure you guys will talk when he returns from his trip.

Monday night...

Narrator: You hear a knock on the door.

Ian: Hey.

Narrator: Ian looks around the room, clearly nervous.

Adam: How was Vegas?

Ian: Cool, I guess. So, uh-

Adam: Did you want to chat, Ian?

Ian: Look dude, I don't know. I just don't know. Between us and this weekend with Zoe, I don't even know how to feel about anything any more. It's like everything in my mind and my guts has been blended up and is still swirling around. I know it's not what you want to hear, Adam. But I can't even tell which way is up right now.

 
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