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When I wake up, it’s because I’m thrown from sleep. I sit straight up in my bed, feeling slightly out of breath as I wonder what that noise was. A crash? It sounded like glass shattering. I’m sure of it, because that sound is unmistakable. I glance at the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s barely past five A.M. Has someone broken in? No. That’s crazy. Who the hell would be breaking in at five A.M.?
I slide out of bed in my briefs and t-shirt and go investigate the noise. As I walk slowly towards the kitchen, my ears notice a sweeping noise alongside someone muttering to themselves. I call out Zane’s name as I turn the corner and immediately stop in my tracks when he whisper-shouts at me. “Careful!” he says, holding his palm out to me. “There’s glass all over the floor.”
My eyes scan the kitchen floor, and sure enough, glass is scattered like shrapnel across the fake hardwood floorboards. It looks like he dropped one of the taller glasses. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Cleaning it up,” he says, looking at me as if I’m stupid for asking such a question.
“No, I mean, what are you doing up?” I clarify.
“Oh.” He shrugs, looking exhausted. He scratches his bare chest as he leans into the broom, still just in boxer briefs. “I had to throw up. And then I felt dehydrated. And then I felt dizzy. Hence…” He gestures to the dangerous floor.
“You feeling okay now?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” he says before pausing and looking up at me. “Sorry about the mess. All the mess,” he clarifies, pointing towards the living room to reference the surprise party last night. “I’ll clean it all up. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
I just nod. “Sure,” I say, finding it hard to meet his gaze.
Zane continues to sweep up the glass into a small pile before asking “How bad was I last night?”
I immediately tense up, feeling my voice get caught in my throat. “Um…” How long ago did we fool around? Maybe five hours ago? It’s still fresh in my mind. Very fresh. In fact, it’s all I’m really thinking about, so I don’t know how to answer his question. Part of me knows he’s talking about him being high, but he could easily be referring to the kissing… and the grinding… and the blowjob…
“I’ve never been that fucked up, man,” he says. “I’m sorry.” Then he laughs, in a way that people laugh when they know they’ve done something stupid. “I barely even remember what happened.”
That makes me perk up. I glance at him curiously. “Seriously? How much… *do* you remember?” I ask slowly.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. A lot of us did shots. I did a few lines with Mitch. Then he gave me something to hold under my tongue, and after that, shit gets hazy.” He shrugs again. “I just remember poker. And waking up on the floor next to you when everyone was gone.”
I gulp. “What about after that?”
He looks at me for a few moments before speaking. “Nothing. Next thing I know, I’m in here, sweeping up this fuckin’ glass.” He holds his broom up and gives me a slight smile.
So… Wait… He doesn’t remember what happened last night? Between me and him? How we kissed? How he blew me? How we rutted against each other until I made him cum? How the fuck does he not remember that? Jesus, he must have been really fucked up. I scratch the back of my head. “Alright,” I mutter, unsure what to say. Should I tell him what happened between us? Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t know.
“You gonna go back to sleep?” he asks.
Am I? I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. “I’m already up,” I tell him.
“Sorry,” he says with a little smile. “Wanna watch Aladdin?”
In spite of the confusing thoughts buzzing around in my head, I laugh. I’m far too old for Disney, but Zane knows how near and dear to my heart that movie is. It’s my not-so-guilty pleasure, a movie that has always managed to entertain and relax me. Can Zane tell that I’m thinking a million miles a minute, or is this just his way of asking for forgiveness? “Sure,” I say, smiling back at him.
“Tight,” he says, nodding as he continues to sweep. “Go set it up. I’ll be in there in a sec.”
I head into the living room and set up the DVD before plopping myself onto the couch. I let out a long sigh, messing with my hair a bit and just staring at the television. Zane doesn’t know. He doesn’t fucking know. Should I tell him we hooked up last night, or should I just keep it to myself, bury it, never speak of it? It’d be easy if I regretted the instance. I could just act like it never happened and Zane would be none the wiser. But if I’m being totally honest with myself, all I’m really wanting right now is another go at Zane’s lips…
~ ~ ~
I let myself in with the spare key, glancing around the house. I’m surprised by the slight mess, though. Usually Baba keeps things particularly tidy, but there are throw pillows on the floor and socks left in the middle of the living room rug and a plate of what looks to be remnants of a slice of cake left out on the coffee table. “Baba?” I call out.
I hear movement in the kitchen canlı bahis before my father pokes his head out from around the corner. “Khalid?” he says in surprise before smiling. Then he enters the living room, tying his robe around himself to be a little more presentable. “Khalid! What are you doing here, my son?” he asks as he comes over for a hug.
I laugh as I hug him back tightly. “Baba, you told me to come,” I remind him. When he pulls back with a confused look, I roll my eyes. “Did you forget your appointment again?”
It takes him a second before it dawns on him. “Oh! Goodness,” he says, rubbing his forehead. “Where is my head?”
I laugh. “You’re lucky I came early.” I offered to take Baba to and from his surgery when he scheduled the appointment just under a month ago. Last month, when Baba was supposed to get two of his wisdom teeth out, he conveniently decided to take a day trip a few counties over to visit one of his old friends. By the time I showed up at the house to pick him up, he was long gone. I don’t think he was trying to avoid the dentist. I think he simply forgot. After all, I’m usually the one who makes sure he gets to his appointments.
“Yes, yes, thank you,” he says, reaching up to stroke my cheek. He must notice something strange in my face, being as astute as he is, so his smile quickly turns to a frown. “Something is wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Baba,” I say automatically, surprised. Does he notice something’s on my mind?
He blinks, studying me for a moment before shrugging. “Alright. I should, um, dress myself,” he says, looking around. “What time is the appointment?”
“Eleven,” I remind him, smiling. “You have time.”
“Good, good,” he says. Just then, we hear a whistling noise coming from the kitchen. “Oh, the kettle! Would you like some tea?” he asks me as he rushes back towards the stove.
“Yes, please,” I say with a small laugh, amused by his energy. I take a seat on the couch with a sigh. That’s when I notice a shirt on the floor as well, lying between the couch and the coffee table. I squint at it. Baba has a very minimalist style, so I know everything that’s in his closet. This shirt, however, I don’t recognize.
Baba comes back with two cups of tea, handing me one before he sits down with a happy hum. That’s when I comment on the scattered articles of clothing and the food left out on the table. Baba just blushes slightly. “Oh, yes. Sorry.”
I raise an eyebrow. “It’s okay,” I say, half-smirking. What’s he hiding?
“So how is Zane?” Baba asks, totally shifting topics. “I was worried about him.”
Now that he brought up Zane, all other distractions are pushed out of my head. “He’s…” How do I answer this question? He seems okay now, now that he got that random party phase out of his system. We talked about the dinner a little bit while we were watching Aladdin, but Zane didn’t have too much to say. It was clear that he didn’t necessarily know how to feel, or was, at the very least, still processing his feelings. “He’s figuring it out,” I say.
Baba tsks. “It was quite scary,” he says, looking at the couch as he remembers last night.
“I bet.” I can only imagine how things would have changed if I had been there. The party certainly wouldn’t have happened. Then Zane and I probably wouldn’t have done what we did… I look at Baba, feeling this sudden urge to talk to someone about it. “Actually, can I talk to you about something? Concerning Zane?”
Baba peers at me, eyebrows raised. “Is he alright?”
“Yeah, yes,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not necessarily about him, anyway,” I add. “It’s more about… us.”
Baba just looks confused. “I don’t understand. Did something happen?”
“Yeah,” I say, but I can tell by Baba’s expression that he’s fearing the worst. “Nothing like that,” I clarify before taking a deep breath. “Zane and I… We… We, uh… kissed last night,” I say. Probably no need to be vulgar. Baba doesn’t need to know that dicks were involved.
I was fully anticipating Baba to be surprised, but I didn’t expect his shock to turn into absolute excitement. “Finally!” he says, suddenly unable to sit still, his lips split into a broad, open-mouthed smile.
“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” I ask, somewhat amused.
Baba puts his hands on my arm. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so long!” he says, positively giddy.
“This d-? No, Baba,” I say, laughing. “It’s not like that-“
“Finally, you two *see* each other-“
“-and you can love each other openly-“
“-just like Rashida and I always thought you two would. We wondered for so long, you know-“
“Baba, stop,” I insist, finally getting him to stop rambling. “It’s not like that.”
He just stares at me. “Then why did you kiss?”
“I… uh…” What to say, what to say… “He was drunk.”
Baba arches his eyebrow. “And were *you* drunk?”
All I can do is blink. Damn, Baba, asking the piercing questions. “I mean… no, but that’s not the point-“
“I think that is bahis siteleri very much the point, Khalid,” he says with a sly smirk.
“Baba, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
“Alright, alright,” he says, patting my knee before putting his excitement to the side. “But answer me this-” he adds, holding up a finger.
“Ugh, Baba, come on-“
“I’m being serious!” he says, looking at me intently. “Are you in love?”
I blink, finding it hard to meet his gaze. “No, Baba,” I tell him. “I’m just… confused.”
At my words, Baba relaxes a bit, scanning my face for any nonverbal explanation. “Confused?”
“I don’t know how I feel, or what to do,” I admit.
“Everything,” I say vaguely.
He looks at me curiously. “Seems odd to be so stressed over a little kiss.”
I blush a bit. It does, doesn’t it? I clear my throat, looking at my lap. “We didn’t just kiss…” I say slowly.
“Ah,” he says gently. “Well, that makes more sense!”
“Hence the confusion.” With a look, Baba urges me to continue, so I keep speaking. I tell him about the sudden, strange, persistent curiosities I’ve been having towards Zane. I tell him about the jealousy I felt when Zane started dating Jason. I even tell him about my newfound sexual attraction towards my best friend (to which thankfully Baba doesn’t bat an eyelash at). I try to express how unsure I’ve been, how I’m unable to decide whether or not it’s just curiosity or something “more”, and how it’d be easier to bury my feelings and hope they dissipate so that I don’t have to confront them on a daily basis.
Baba pauses, soaking in all this information before asking, “How does Zane feel? About the kiss and… everything?”
I grimace before saying, “He doesn’t remember. He was too drunk.”
“Oh, seven heavens,” Baba mutters in Arabic, sighing slightly.
“I know,” I say. “I don’t know if I should tell him or not.”
Baba seems to think on it. “Well, was it just something playful?” Baba inquires, tilting his head.
I shake my head. “It was… intense, Baba,” I say, emphasizing that word with the hope that he gets the hint without me having to spell it out.
He just nods. “I will say, you two have always had this connection-“
I sigh. “You always say that,” I mutter.
“And it’s true!” Baba says, wagging his finger at me. “And here is the proof!”
“How is that proof?” I question, but Baba just gives me a look implying that I’m stupid. What is he saying? That Zane and I are going to end up together? “I don’t know, Baba,” I say, unable to sort through my thoughts. Everything’s zooming through my consciousness at light speed.
“You owe it to him to be honest,” Baba says. “And you owe it to yourself. Especially with your feelings.”
“So, what, I’m just supposed to say ‘Hey, man, totally random but I’m crazy attracted to you all of a sudden’?” I say with a hint of frustration.
“Well, no,” Baba says, smiling patiently. “Just be open with him. Otherwise you will be asking yourself ‘Ohhh, what if I had done such and such?’ for years to come.”
“I guess so,” I mumble, and even though I wasn’t sure if this situation was that deep, Baba has a point. Those questions are dangerous and debilitating at times. But on the flip side, what if I regret saying anything? What if it’s not that serious? What if it really just is a sexual curiosity but Zane sees it as more, or vice versa? What if the best course of action was to forget about this whole thing?
He just shrugs before speaking. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Khalid,” he says, patting my knee. “How you feel is how you feel. But I’ll leave you with this: don’t let yourself regret the chances you didn’t take.” He smiles at me sadly. “Trust me.”
I know he’s speaking from experience. Baba’s life is full of chances he didn’t take, especially when it comes to romance. “I just have to figure out how to word it,” I say.
“Don’t bother,” he tells me. “It’ll come out messy, but it’ll come out honest, and that’s what’s important.”
I smile at Baba. I feel a little better after talking it out. In an attempt to not get myself too bent out of shape over this, I try to convince myself that I’ll talk it over with Zane, see what he thinks, how he feels. And then, whatever happens, we’ll go from there. One step at a time.
I notice Baba’s eyes shift towards the stairs, looking surprised. When I turn my head to peer over the back of the couch, I see a shirtless man coming down the staircase. He pauses when he notices me in the living room. “Hi,” I say, somewhat startled.
“Oh! Hello,” he says, squinting slightly at me as if he can’t see very far. But I just turn to Baba, a grin on my face. At first, I think he’s embarrassed, but then I think he’s just trying to hide that he’s incredibly pleased with himself for landing such a handsome man. I mean, the guy is a bit of a stud: a lean but muscular and hairy body with a soft poet’s face. And it’s clear what happened. The mess in the living room, the robe, bahis şirketleri the half-naked stranger… Of course. Guess Baba’s been taking some chances. I wonder if they’re dating or if this was a one-night stand.
Baba clears his throat. “Raul, this is my son, Khalid. Khalid, this is my friend, Raul.”
“Friend?” I tease quietly, and Baba hits my leg before I laugh. I then offer my hand to Raul, who smiles slightly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he says in a pleasant voice, coming over to shake my hand. “Heard a lot about you.”
“Don’t embarrass the boy,” Baba says.
“Too late,” he says with a smile as he gestures to his body before addressing me. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were coming,” he says. “I would have made myself more presentable.”
I laugh. “It’s all good,” I say, trying my best not to eye his body – though I can’t help but notice that he’s got nothing on Zane. “My father here is a little forgetful. He’s getting a few wisdom teeth out today.”
Raul clearly looks surprised at this news. “Really?”
Baba nods. “Sorry.”
“I could have taken you,” Raul says with a laugh. So clearly they’ve been together long enough for offering rides to be appropriate.
“It slipped my mind,” Baba says, smiling slightly. “But that’s why I have Khalid.”
“So all I am is a calendar to you?” I tease.
“Yes,” Baba says without hesitation, and the three of us laugh. After a moment, Raul excuses himself to go into the kitchen to make coffee – clearly making himself at home already.
I watch him leave before I grin, giving Baba a look. “What?” he asks quietly, busying himself with his cup and trying to pretend like he doesn’t know exactly why I’m making this face.
“Who’s the handsome gentleman?”
“His name is Raul,” Baba says simply.
I chuckle. “Uh huh. And how long has *that* been going on?”
“Just a short while,” Baba says, clearly trying not to smile. “Raul and I are… ‘hanging’? Is that the phrase?”
I laugh. “Yes, Baba.” Before I take a sip of my tea, I ask him if he likes this guy.
“Very much,” he says with a nod.
“Is it… serious?”
Baba shrugs, gazing up at the ceiling in a dreamy sort of way. “I don’t know yet,” he says before his eyes center on me. “I’m just having fun.”
“Looks like it,” I mutter, and Baba giggles slightly. “Well, I’m happy for you, Baba.”
He smiles. Beams, really. “Just… don’t tell anybody yet,” he says. “I don’t want to hope too much.” I give him a soft smile, noticing that I know exactly how he feels right now.
~ ~ ~
A whole week goes by and still, I haven’t said anything to Zane. I’m straddling the fence, toeing the line between whether or not I should tell him anything. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I just need to, in a way, get it out of my system. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just a “bicurious” thing – like I should just hook up with any random dude and see what happens. But the thought doesn’t excite me much. Thoughts of Zane, however… those excite me *very* much.
I don’t know exactly how far I’d want to take things, or how it all would work, or what the implications of our actions would be, but I do know that I want to have sex with Zane again. I want his lips on my lips, body on my body. I want my cock in his fist, in his mouth, against his expert tongue. Sometimes, if I let my mind drift, I’ll think about mounting him too, or taking him from behind like Jason did the night I caught them together. More often than not, I’ll move my tongue around in my mouth while imagining what it’d feel like to have Zane’s cock there.
I find it interesting that my curiosities are solely focused towards Zane, who is the quintessential male, devoid of femininity. But I think it’s a comfort thing – at least, that’s what I tell myself. It’s an easy explanation for things I somewhat wish I didn’t have to address. Why else would I be so constantly thinking about that fiery kiss without shuddering at the memory? The only negative thing is the hard-ons I give myself whenever I think of how insanely good my body felt that night.
But still, I don’t say anything. I come close a few times, but each time, I chicken out. I think Zane is incredibly embarrassed by his behavior at the party and just wants to put it behind him, and that alone serves as an effective deterrent. There’s also that little voice in the back of my head saying “It’s not that big of a deal, Khalid. It’s just a little physical affection, nothing more.” If I listen to that voice long enough, I can feel myself start to believe it.
So, by the time the end of the work week rolls around, I haven’t said shit to Zane. We just keep on like everything’s normal – and that’s how I expect things to continue when I get back to the apartment. However, as I enter, already animatedly talking about the craziness that ensued at work today, I’m surprised to see that Zane isn’t alone. “Dude, you won’t believe the shit I had to-” But I stop, seeing a stranger leaning against the kitchen counter across from Zane. They look like they just got out of work or something, both dressed in business casual: Zane in a fitted polo and some slacks, and his friend wearing an untucked dress shirt with some crisp-looking jeans. Do they work together?
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