Page 132 of Joey

All of us here for one reason only.

Joey.

I kiss him.

I kiss Joey Boston like I’ve never kissed anyone in my life. It’s messy, and rushed, and perfect, and slow, and easy, and messy and rushed again. His hands clamp over top of Wald’s and Huck’s. Gripping my ass as he begins to fuck me. And Huck and Wald press forward. Walling me in like the forest around the Kane mansion.

I let go of Joey and reach for their cocks. Stroking them, and gripping them.

And suddenly we are a just a group of lust. Just sex. Pure sex. Everyone moaning, and kissing, and fucking, and stroking.

Words are whispered. Words I want to burn into my memory and never forget. Words like, “Yes,” and, “So good,” and, “More.”

It’s wild. It’s animalistic. It’s desperation, and—at least between them—it’s love.

I wake up last. The bed is empty save for me. There are dented pillows where heads were and there are voices out in the kitchen.

I try to think back on last night. I want to remember every moment because I feel like that was a goodbye of sorts. Or some kind of gift to Joey. Something to ease his heartache and help him get through what has very clearly turned into a complete disaster.

But last night is a blur. Not bad things. Not at all. It’s a blur of many wonderful sensory experiences. Maybe too many. It was something that can only be felt.

Not articulated, or held in one’s hand, or even repeated.

It was special.

I vaguely remember everyone coming. Wald and Huck spilling their hot semen as I jerked them off. Spurts of it hitting all of us at once. Covering us in their release. I remember a shower afterward. All of us taking turns standing under the rain of hot water, the air filled with swirling steam, and soaping each other up as carefully as we made love just a few minutes earlier.

I remember them toweling me off. Each other too. And then leading me to the bed, pulling back the covers, and all of us collapsing into each other. A warm, safe tangle of arms, and legs, and torsos.

I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top leftover from my other life and walk out to the kitchen to see what’s up. Everyone’s drinking coffee and leaning elbows on the stone countertop.

“Good morning,” Huck says.

Joey sighs. Wald smiles.

I mumble, “Good morning,” back.

“So…” Huck says. “What’s on the agenda today? Are we gonna save the world? Or cause its demise?”

“I can’t,” Wald says. “I need to think. I need a plan, and some calculations, and…”

He trails off.

I get it. This is a big fucking deal.

Joey says, “I called Johnny and left a message. Figured better let him know what’s up.”

“Did he call you back?” I ask. Thinking… he’s taking this better than I expected. I don’t know Joey that well, obviously. So I don’t really know if he’s a shut-down kind of guy when things go wrong, or take charge kind of one.

This action doesn’t help me much. Is calling Johnny taking charge? Or shutting down?

“No,” Joey admits. “He never calls me back. But… I tried.”

“He doesn’t call you back?” I ask.

“Fuck no,” Huck says. “Johnny ignores everyone.”

“But when he snaps his fingers we all come running, don’t we?” Wald says.