Page 26 of Septembers

Theo’s fingers dipped beneath his boxers, and he started to stroke as the fantasy solidified, the man’s mouth moving up his inner thigh, Theo’s fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair, his back against the shower wall, Dae sitting on the edge of the⁠—

“No.” His hand stilled. No, no, no, not that. Stupid, tipsy brain. He closed his eyes, conjuring his generic man: handsome, tall, muscular, not in their bathroom, but instead in some fancy penthouse. Right. Better. He began to stroke again, moaning a little at the thought of a mouth covering him, hands on his hips, his head bobbing, pulling Theo closer, his dark eyes gazing up at him, a freckle stark against his skin, his ass inching forwards on the edge of the bathtub, his knees on either side of Theo, holding him steady as he took him deeper.

“Oh fuck.” Not Dae, not Dae, not Dae.

But his hand wouldn’t stop, and his foggy mind wouldn’t expel the image of Dae, refusing to forget the feeling of his hands on his hips, their bodies pressed together at the party, or Dae’s breath against Theo’s skin as he whispered in his ear.

“Oh fu–fuck.” His stomach coiled as his hand sped up; Dae’s scent, his moans, Dae licking and sucking, his mouth warm and wet, hand roaming up Theo’s stomach to his chest, reaching his fingers into his mouth⁠—

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

Theo shook as pleasure shot through his body and then onto his hand. He lay panting and exposed, the rumbling base from across the road seeping into the air, pulsing around him, spinning the room.

The guilt hit hard and fast. He’d just touched himself to the thought of his best friend.

Dae.

His Dae, who only remained his because he hadn’t crossed that line and fucked everything up. Like, apparently, Dae knew he would.

This moment didn’t have to become a problem if Theo didn’t let it. It was the result of a weird day of weird tension and an even weirder party with weird fucking alcoholic desserts. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.

He shot up and marched to the bathroom, closing his eyes to avoid the sight of the bathtub at all costs, and got into the shower to wash away every single minute of the past twenty-four hours. Tomorrow was a new, normal day, and he would be the most normal best friend who ever best-friended.

༻𓆪 𓆩༺

He’d still been awake when Jason and Caleb returned (without Dae, which was so fine it was actually the most fine). They’d been victorious in a ping-pong tournament that earned them a paper-mâché trophy, which had been given a place of prominence atop the fridge, displacing all five boxes of cereal. Which was why Theo walked into the kitchen in the morning to find Dae sitting at the table behind a cereal-box wall. Lilting facts about butter emanated from his laptop, disturbed only by the mumble he gave in greeting.

Theo picked up the box of Captain Crunch to reveal Dae’s pallid skin and ruffled hair. A half-eaten toasted sandwich sat before him, smelling so delicious Theo almost changed his stance on breakfast.

Normal, normal, normal. “Why are your baking shows always British?”

“It’s soothing.” His voice was scratchy, which wasn’t even sexy at all.

“Do you need to be soothed this morning?” Dae didn’t answer, and the sane part of Theo fought with his natural instincts to pry. But he was being normal, wasn’t he? Supportive? Friends who had never gotten off to the thought of their friends asked questions about their love lives, didn’t they? “I think someone got smooched last night. Now the only question is, by one person or two?”

Dae leaned his head back, eyes closed. “Is there anything I can do to make you let this go?”

“There is not.” He ate some dry Captain Crunch, wincing as it scraped the roof of his mouth. “Was it one smooch or two?”

“Can you please stop saying the word smooch?”

“One or two, Dae?” He should’ve just shut up. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he’d admit that he didn’t want to know. But at the same time, he needed to know. Fuck, what was happening to him?

Dae sighed the sigh that Theo was beginning to think was reserved for him. His Theo-sigh. “One.”

Theo forced an excited gasp and sat down next to him. “Who?”

Maybe Kabir had been wrong. Maybe he’d misunderstood Dae last year. Maybe Dae was straight after all, and the person he’d kissed last night had been Jacinda, and they’d have a perfectly happy heterosexual life together making gorgeous babies and having boring straight sex that had nothing to do with Theo, because it couldn’t, because they were straight.

Dae tapped pause on his computer and the accented voices stopped, filling the room with the kind of silence that could drown a person if they weren’t careful. He seemed to be wrestling with himself, his shoulders tense, the muscles in his jaw working for no reason. His t-shirt was fraying at the collar, the threads brushing against the back of his neck with every breath. Theo had the strange urge to reach out and rip them off.

“Kabir.”

Fucking hell.

Not straight.

Theo’s stomach twisted like he’d been betrayed, which was ridiculous, so it must’ve just been the cereal. He closed the box and scowled at it before opening the Lucky Charms and scooping a dry handful of that into his mouth instead.