You've never been curious about what it would like to be loved. Love has never been high on your list of priorities. Everyone already knows number one is sex, and lots of it. So you wonder why you're even contemplating love now, in the middle of karaoke night at Woody's.
You tilt your beer bottle again, forcing liquid into your mouth. You wince as it touches your tongue. It's warm. You let the bottle rest on the table and you glance over at your best friend, Mikey. He doesn't seem to care that his beer has gone warm. He's not even focused on the horrendous excuse for singing up on the stage at the moment. He's too busy smiling and nuzzling against his boyfriend.
You let your gaze linger for a moment on him, the boyfriend. Ben. Professor of gay studies or some shit like that. He's smart, very smart. He even looks the part of a professor.
You snort quietly. If professors were normally muscular and fucking beautiful. You pause for a second. Did you really just think Ben was beautiful?
Holy shit. You admitted you think your best friend's guy is hot. You shrug. Sure, he's hot. Why else would you have fucked him at the White Party? He's got a gorgeous cock, too. And he knows how to use it.
But there's more to Ben than his cock.
At first glance, you zone right in on his body. He's tall, over six feet, with broad shoulders and defined muscles. He looks like he could crush you between his fingers without thinking twice. Right now though, he's running those fingers through Michael's hair, massaging his scalp. And Michael is loving every second of it.
You vaguely remember the touch of Ben's fingers on your skin. They felt strong and warm. His hands are large, his fingers are long, but they aren't clumsy. The way he holds a pencil is graceful, and the way he holds your body close to his is almost indescribable. You blink and drum your fingers on the table, annoyed to be observing Ben this closely. Why should you care that Michael has the hottest man you've ever seen doting on him all the time? Why should you care that Ben only has eyes for your best friend?
God, you think. Those fucking eyes. Whether they're framed by his scholarly glasses or not, they are unforgettable. The way they crinkle at the corners when he smiles or laughs. The way they stare intensely at you when you're speaking. The way they seem to see into your soul.
You shiver slightly. You don't want anybody to see into your soul, not even Michael. But Ben has. For that brief moment when you came together on that hotel bed, he saw you.
You drink the last of your warm beer and twirl the bottle in your hands by the neck. You shift in your seat, just a bit, just enough to be able to look better at Ben. You notice the sharp lines of his jaw and cheeks, the slope of his nose. You find that separately, they look too harsh, but together, on his face, they fit quite nicely.
Michael laughs and leans up to kiss Ben's mouth. Your eyes are drawn to Ben's lips. They move against Michael's.
You force yourself to look away. Coughing, you stand up and pull your jacket on. Michael asks if you're leaving already. Ben looks up at you.
You say yeah, this is killing any hard on you may have for the evening. You lean down and plant a kiss on Mikey's forehead and say you'll catch him later.And then, you look right at Ben and tell him to have fun. He assures you he will, while giving Michael a friendly squeeze. You nod and walk towards the exit. At the door, you stop and turn around.
Ben has his arm possessively around Michael, quietly letting everyone know Michael is his without saying a word. You watch the way their bodies fit together. You know they are in love.
And for the first time in your life, you are envious of your best friend.