The texting part turns out to be easy as breathing. Easy enough that Tommy ends up inviting Jake over after his 12 o'clock Medieval Lit class the next day. Also easy enough that somehow, Jake accepts.
So they're sitting on the raggedy couch in the basement suite of his parents' house that Tommy lost his virginity on and drinking beer because of course they're drinking beer. (In the small part of his mind not totally consumed by the fact that a boy who looks like a Calvin Klein model is sitting with him on a couch still sporting suspect stains, Tommy wonders if that's A Thing Straight Boys Do.) And Jake might be a little drunk but he's still leaning over and Tommy's thinking oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck because Jake's kissing him and wait, isn't Jake straight?
He thinks maybe he said this last part aloud because Jake's laughing against his lips and hauling him closer. But Jake tastes like beer and sweat and boy, so Tommy just laughs back, breathless, and lets the euphoria bubble over.
YOU ARE READING
Human
RomanceTommy Gold's the snarky, gay lit major who still lives in his parents' basement. Jake Miller's the all-American straight guy with only one leg. Turns out, neither of those things is completely true. © a. c. wyatt, 2016
