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His phone stayed silent for the remainder of the afternoon.
When Chris got home, he opened the app and searched.
After an hour of growing bewildered then frustrated, he realised the guy must’ve blocked his profile. He felt insulted, bereft.
And weirdly turned on.
The next time they were going out, he suggested the rooftop bar again.
No sign of him.
He did it again.
And again.
Until Brendan said, “Geeze, man, it’s good, but can we try somewhere new?”
Chris shrugged. “Sure, sorry, I thought we liked that place.”
“Not every time,” Brendan replied like Chris was insane.
And, well, maybe he was; he was kind of stuck on the guy, which was stupid and stalker-like.
“Alright, well, you pick then,” Chris said and went back to scrolling on his phone, testing their new app out before the big launch.
It was for the best, he thought as he scrolled through profiles of women and men who’d agreed to beta test for them; the guy had clearly blocked him. Chris had checked for his profile an embarrassing number of times since that day to be sure.
The problem was, he couldn’t get the guy out his head.
“What about the green icon?” Chris asked.
“Too close to the messaging app,” Brendan replied swiftly. “Not sure on patents.”
Chris nodded along, went back to the profiles, and wondered if the guy might pop up as he scrolled. It was an idle thought, irrelevant and useless.
1
Chris was balls deep in the guy—slim, blonde, handsome—when he felt the rush of his climax coming on.
“Jesus, there, there, fuck, right there,” the guy said. He’d been keeping up a stream of words the whole time, his body twisting and pushing to get the angle he wanted, the touch that made him feel good.
Chris felt a flicker of annoyance, but it flamed out as he started to come in the condom, his head dropping, hands tightening on the guy’s hips to hold him still.
“Give me a hand, fuck,” the guy said.
Nate, his name was Nate, Chris thought as he caught his breath and reached under him.
Nate’s cock was thick and hard in his hand, already moving to get the friction he needed to get there.
“Tighter, fuck, tighter, c’mon,” Nate said as he rolled his hips back and forth on Chris’ dick.
Chris felt the skin sliding over his palm and it repulsed him. He wanted to pull out, but Nate was shoving against him like the feel of a still hard cock in him and a hand on his own cock was really doing it for him, and Chris just wanted him to finish, so he stayed where he was and let Nate get there.
“Oh, fuck, yeah, fuck,” Nate bit out and started to come. He grabbed Chris’ hand around him and crushed them together to work himself through it, his come squelching through their fingers.
It took every ounce of manners Chris had not to shove Nate forward, spring off the bed and run into the bathroom to get it off himself.
“All done?” he asked after Nate had stopped shooting for at least ten seconds, though he was still working Chris’ hand over his dick and rocking back into his groin.
