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Joq rubbed his eyes. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied. “Probably not.”
A laugh burst out of Chris and Joq had to look at him. Chris was looking back, his handsome face caught between accepting being shut out and bemused.
Joq flicked his eyes to Chris’ lips and recalled the feel of his dick sliding in and out of that mouth, the way Chris just let him take before he gave it to him so good Joq felt it in the best way for days.
Joq had to hand it to him, he thought as he looked back into his hesitant eyes, Chris could deliver.
“Maybe yes,” he shrugged.
Chris huffed another surprised laugh and when Joq’s order was called, he went and got it and turned to hand it to him.
“Maybe we could get dinner this time?” Chris asked as Joq took his coffee.
Joq wasn’t sure about that, but maybe they could fuck again. Before he could reply, Chris’ phone rang again.
“And maybe you should get that,” he said flatly, all interest evaporating as he stepped away.
Chris followed him, easily matching his pace.
“It can wait,” Chris replied. “So, dinner?”
Chris’ phone stopped. Started up again.
Joq shook his head. Only a partner would be that insistent. He was not doing that again.
“Coffee?” Chris tried.
“Take your call,” Joq said, his tone far too cold for someone who was a step up from a stranger.
“It can really wait,” Chris insisted. “And I’d really like to see you again.”
“God, why?” Joq asked, sipping his coffee. It was good, but it’s not like he couldn’t get just as good elsewhere.
“Because we had a good time?”
“I don’t do repeats,” Joq delivered the line he’d delivered to overzealous hook-ups before. But it didn’t have to be true anymore, did it? He didn’t do repeats because he’d had a goddamned boyfriend. A boyfriend who not only did do repeats but went and fell in love and married the fucking repeat.
“I get it,” Chris replied, his long legs strolling beside Joq’s, head nodding in a way like he truly did get it. “You’re not into it anymore.”
Joq was definitely into it, had been right into it; he remembered the way he’d licked Chris’ come into his mouth. He never got that kinky.
“That’s not the problem.” And why was he still talking?
“It’s not?” And Chris sounded so surprised, Joq had to look at him.
“No,” Joq said like Chris was stupid—of course no, what moron has a one-night stand that good and wasn’t after more?
“Really?”
They arrived at the end of the street, waited at the light change that would take Joq to the stadium. Joq side-eyed Chris, who seemed to be waiting for an answer.
“Yes, really,” he said slowly. “That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?” Chris asked.
The walk sign lit up and they started to cross. Joq had no idea where Chris worked in his expensive and perfectly tailored suit, but he was guessing it was not in the direction of the stadium and away from the CBD. He matched Joq’s pace though, and when Joq looked up at him, he saw his small but confused smile as they weaved in and out of the throngs of people crossing.
“I don’t do repeats,” Joq repeated but it felt hollow because it was. What was the problem?
