Bayside Queens (BoyxMan)

9.

9.

Quinn

"I'm exhausted," I told him for probably the ninth time in the last hour. I rubbed my stomach, ignoring the sensitive bruised skin. CJ had just taken me out for steak at one of the nicer Bayside restaurants. He wouldn't stop asking if I was okay or if I needed anything, which was adorable. He didn't ask me anything about my sexuality, which I was grateful for.

Another thing I was grateful for was his. His sexuality, I mean. Every time I looked at his mouth I just imagined it wrapped around someone's penis and it just wow, it turned me on to high hell. I know that's kind of nasty, imagining him sucking a dick, but really it just gave me hope. I mean yeah, I was still eight years younger than him, but the whole me being a boy thing was quickly crossed off the list of things keeping me from kissing him. Knowing that I was the only person he told caused a warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach that I didn't want to lose.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled, his green eyes shinning before he turned back and pushed open the door to his apartment. He had been fumbling with his keys for about a minute now.

The second I stepped in I was met with the overpowering scent of CJ. It was manly and comforting and made me want to drown in it. It was the same scent I had buried my face in the night before the accident, breathing in the faded muskiness of his PD sweatshirt. I hoped he wouldn't ask for it back.

The second thing I recognized was that his apartment was not at all how I imagined it to look. It was orderly and clean and well designed. There was a small blue wood kitchen table with sunflowers in a vase. A pile of mail was on it, but other than that, the surfaces of his kitchen were spotless. The main room was very open, the far kitchen leading in to a cute living area with a very elegant looking couch across from a flat screen. To the far left, there was an archway to a room full of windows that looked over his neighborhood street. A desk that matched the blue wood of the kitchen table was home to a Mac computer and stacks of paperwork. I turned to my right and noticed two closed doors a few feet away from the end of the living room. One of the doors had hooks on the back, and I presumed it was a coat closet. The other, CJ's bedroom.

"It's not much," he announced suddenly, his voice sounding slightly anxious. "Luce is an interior decorator and designed it all for me. Before I met her, this place was a total bachelor pad. All I had in the fridge was Coors Light and milk," he said with a chuckle. "She tried to make it more livable for me, and it worked. I helped her pick everything out. My favorite color is blue if you hadn't noticed."

I did notice. The wood was blue and so was the expensive looking couch that looked kind of uncomfortable. Some of his hanging kitchen cabinets, also blue wood, had a clear pane of glass covering them. His mugs were all different shades and designs of blue.

"I like it," I announced, now noticing the very prevalent hint of CJ. "It's very you," I told him. He chuckled, leaning up against the island that separated the living space from the kitchen. The two stools that sat against it had blue cushions on it. I imagined CJ and Luce sitting and reading the newspaper here, drinking coffee and eating breakfast. The image of Luce faded, and then I imagined myself. That put a smile on my face.

Suddenly getting hit by another wave of exhaustion, the very uncomfortable looking couch seemed extremely satisfying right about now. I rubbed my eyes and took a couple steps from the doorway then carefully lowered myself down on it, moaning as I did so. The pleasure of sleep so near in my future had me groaning with pleasure.

"What are you doing?" CJ asked me, his voice now closer and more alarmed. I started to lie down.

"What does it look like?" I groaned. "I'm exhausted." I shut my eyes.