Word of God

4064 words
Summary

In this unusual meta-narrative, Derek Williams plays with the idea of re-branding characters as queer after a story has already been released. It gets weird.

When I woke up it was a perfectly ordinary day. It was late, maybe ten o’clock, but who cares because it was also a Saturday. I was looking forward to a long day of doing nothing. Maybe hit the gym. But mostly I just wanted to hang around the apartment and do whatever.

My room isn’t anything special. When you look around, it’s what you’d see in any guys room. A bed with sheets that haven’t been changed in far too long, a few half-naked posters covering the walls, and a pile of clothes on the floor. At twenty-three, I feel like I’m living exactly the life I should be living, and I’m stoked to do it in style.

I hauled my ass out of bed and gave myself a once over in the mirror. The gym sessions were paying off. I felt really good about my body. Just enough muscle to attract the eye, but not so much that anybody would get weird ideas about me. I’m barely out of college, but I think I’ve already mastered the dad-bod.

“Lookin’ good Spencer,” I said to myself.

I threw on a pair of shorts and headed out to the kitchen. My roommate, Dan, was already there, dressed in his own pair of shorts and a black t-shirt. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and joined him at the table, grunting a hello and staring at my phone.

“Got any big plans today?” Dan asked, glancing up for the barest moment of eye contact.

“I dunno dude, I just thought I’d hang out. Maybe hit the gym.”

“Oh yeah, cause you’re such a gym rat,” Dan laughed. “Dude, it’s great you got a membership and everything, but you’re not exactly Arnold, y’know?”

“Yeah, well, if I never go, I’m never gonna get big and strong, not like you,” I laughed, reaching over and giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

“Aw, you think I’m strong? Thanks cupcake,” Dan laughed, giving me a flex of his biceps. He was always showing off like that. Unlike me, Dan actually made it to the gym every day he promised to, and the results were showing on him. He had big meaty pecs and strong arms.

“What about you,” I asked, shovelling another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. “Any big plans?”

“Nah, I thought maybe I’d hook up the Nintendo, maybe play some Donkey Kong,” he shrugged. Dan had bought a vintage SNES last year, and he was obsessed with it. The guy owned like twenty games and he never missed the opportunity to pull it out.

“Sweet,” I said. “I might join you later. But I’m serious dude, I’m gonna hit the gym. Maybe see Alice later.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dan laughed.

“Fuck you.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower," Dan said. “Don’t follow me in there or anything.”

“Hey, you know I wanna,” I laughed.

While Dan slid into the bathroom, I grabbed my gym bag. It didn’t smell great, but who cares? I just wanted to lift some weights and get laid.

I headed out the door only to be stopped dead in my tracks. I gave out a startled yelp. Where I had expected to find an apartment building hallway, I saw only a featureless grey void. It was soft and indistinct, and I got the feeling that if I stepped out the door I’d be stepping off the edge of the world.

“Dude!” I yelped, moving a few steps back to avoid erasing myself from existence.

I heard the water shut off and Dan hurridly wrapping a towel around his waist. He ran into the hallway, dripping water into little puddles as he went. His dark hair was plastered against his head.

“What’s up?” he asked with concern.

“Uh… did you realize that our apartment doesn’t connect to anything?” I asked.

“Yeah dude,” Dan laughed with relief. “You’re always forgetting – we’re not real. This is a story. You and me, we’re fictional characters, remember?”

“Fuck! I always forget,” I groaned, giving myself an embaressed slap on the forehead. “But why don’t we have a hallway. Sherlock Holmes always had a hallway.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the author fleshed this world out very well,” Dan shrugged. “I mean, do you even know what city we’re in right now?”

“Now that you mention it, no…” I said uncertainly. “I feel like I’m in a midsized American city, but that’s about it.”

“And that’s probably all our author has thought about,” Dan said. “Look man, I’m like halfway through a shower. If you’re done freaking out with this particular existential crisis…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving him off.

Well, I guessed the gym was out of the question. At least until the author needed me there.

I always forget we’re fictional. It comes up every now and then. Doorways that don’t go anywhere, people who come into my life for one pivotal moment and then disapear, that sort of thing. Most of the time I forget and just follow along on whatever trail our author wants. I guess that’s just life for a character.

I wondered if this was a short story or a novel. Man… it had to be a short story. The author would have thought about the hallway if it was a novel, right? Or is my life really that trivial to him?

Whatever was going on, I hoped he had a gym scene for me at some point. I really wanted to get my sweat on, and if this whole story took place in our apartment, I was never gonna get a chance to work out.

I decided to join Dan for video games. The game console had a backstory, so that meant it would probably work pretty well.

Dan finished up his shower, slipping on the same pair of shorts and black t-shirt. I don’t understand the point of washing if you’re just gonna throw on the same clothes, but whatever, he seemed like he was happy enough.

We ended up in the living room, chilling out and joking around while Dan set up the console. It’s a whole thing. We actually had to find a TV with old school input ports on it just so it’d work.

“Alright, all hooked up,” Dan said with a grin. He flipped the TV on just in time for us to catch a breaking news bulletin. Typical… the life of a character is so trope based sometimes.

An animated sequence was flashing over the screen. It was some 90’s level stuff, the sort of thing you’d expect to see from a film student these days, or on the local nightly news. It was a badly rendered globe and golden text that read “THE WORD OF GOD”.

“Aw fuck, really?” Dan moaned. “I hate when authors do this.”

I rolled my eyes too. But apparently there were questions about the universe we inhabited, and THE WORD OF GOD was how authors like to make little tweaks and additions after the story was published.

It’s always weird to realize your story has already been published. It’s a total stoner thought, but maybe someone is reading our story right now. How weird is that. If you’re out there, hello! Don’t forget to leave a comment!

The host of THE WORD OF GOD was an attractive black man wearing a well cut suit. He was seated at a desk like a late night host, while his guest sat in a comfortable chair nearby. The author was a lanky white guy, mostly notable for the shaggy surfer style his hair was cut into.

“Our author today is Derek Williams,” the host said. “Thank you for coming on today and answering a few questions from your readers.”

“It’s always a pleasure Jackson,” the author said, giving an uncomfortable smile. “Though I’ll admit, I prefer being behind a keyboard.”

“Of course,” the host said charismatically. “We won’t keep you for long. This story you’ve written is raising some eyebrows. It seems to be a first person meta-narrative. In an unusual twist, the characters even seem to understand that they’re characters. You even make an appearance in the story yourself!”

“I do,” Derek said with a wry smile. “Though of course I appear with my pen name. I often appear in my stories, usually in the background, but in this case I decided it was important to show up in the text. I’ve only done that one other time.”

“Yes, at the end of your series about Vanilla, California,” the host said smiling. “In that appearance, you were transformed into a fantasy himbo. Do we expect to see the same thing today?”

“No, I’ll just be answering a few questions about the story universe,” Derek said.

“Then let’s jump right in. Our first question is from a reader who’s wondering ‘How does Dan, the roommate, stay in such good shape if the characters don’t have access to a gym?’ How does that work anyhow?”

“Well, let me start by saying that very few characters in these stories have realistic gym sessions anyhow. They seem to spend about 90% of their time doing a single set on the bench press. Where are all the dips and curls and squats?”

“Right, right!” the host laughed.

“But in this story, I didn’t think our characters needed to make it to the gym at all. We can assume they have a gym and spend plenty of time there, but it wasn’t important to the narrative to show them actually working out.”

“That makes sense, I suppose there must be other things happening in the story,” Jackson said generously. “Our next question is ‘Why doesn’t this story have any sex?’”

“Well, the answer to that is simple,” Derek laughed. “Sometimes I get bored writing stories that are just about heavily muscled guys having tremendous sex. Whenever that happens, I like to write a story that’s a little more of a social commentary or artistic piece. I’m sure you noticed a lot of my stories in 2020 and 2021 have had a more experimental feel to them – this newest story continues that trend, but it really takes it to extremes.”

“I can tell,” the host smiled. “Anyone whose still reading this must be wondering what the hell is even going on here. Particularly if this is the first story of yours they’ve read.”

Derek shrugged. “I mean, you can only write so many stories about straight guys suddenly turning into himbos before you have to stretch your legs a bit. I know this one is out there, but it’s fun to right and maybe it’ll be fun to read.”

“Well, obviously you’re not a himbo yourself then,” the host pointed out. “Though you did misspell ‘write’ in that last paragraph.”

“No, I’m not a himbo yet,” Derek sighed, ignoring the critique on his writing. “But I smoke quite a bit of weed, so we’re working on it. Recently I’ve added several neon items to my wardrobe and I’m drawing attention in a really satisfying way. I’m also hoping to commission a really good ‘himbo’ hypno file from Avis Sapiens whenever he opens up commissions again. Maybe one of these days, I’ll be nothing but a sex object myself.”

“We can only hope,” Jackson laughed.

While Derek and Jackson bantered on screen, I turned to Dan and asked “What’s a himbo?”

“It’s like a guy who’s hot and dumb and kind,” Dan said, shrugging his shoulders.

On the screen, the host was asking another question.

“Our last question today is about representation,” the host said. “This is a story about two roommates who frankly… seem to be straight. As a gay erotica author, wouldn’t we expect to see at least one gay character in the story?”

“Besides me, of course,” Derek laughed.

“Of course, my apologies,” the host grinned.

“Well… the thing is, the main characters of this story are gay,” Derek said. “Spencer – that’s the narrator – and Dan are both gay men. We’ve seen this many times in fiction, where characters are gay but the author never mentioned it and it didn’t seem to impact the characters at all.”

“But there are so many indicators that these are two straight men,” Jackson pushed. “They seem to sleep apart, to have a very ‘straight bro’ attitude with each other, and I’m pretty sure they’re wearing cargo shorts.”

“There’s no reason to think they’re wearing cargo shorts,” Derek said, pointing up at the 2000 or so words that he’d written to get us to this point.

“Fair enough. But given that we live in a society where almost everybody is straight, is it really surprising that your readers might pictures these characters through a straight lens unless there’s an explicit mention of their homosexuality?”

“I’m surprised at you,” Derek said, shaking his head. “Gay people will naturally picture anyone whose sexuality is undefined as gay. Anyone watching this interview will obviously agree.”

Dan glanced away from the TV and looked at me.

“Uh… I don’t even know what this guy is talking about,” I said with a shrug. “I’m still stuck on the idea that I’m supposed to be gay now, just cause this guy said so…”

“Uh, yeah. He’s the author,” Dan pressed. “His words make up the universe. If he says we’re gay, we must be gay.”

THE WORD OF GOD came to an end on the screen as we chatted about the possibility.

“I dunno dude,” I said, rampaging DK through a jungle level. “I just don’t think I can be gay. I mean… I don’t feel gay. I’ve never thought, said, or done anything gay. And what about Alice? I mentioned her earlier this story, that has to mean she’s my girlfriend or whatever.”

“Maybe not,” Dan said. “What if she’s just someone you know? And who says you have to ‘do anything gay’ to be gay. Is our gayness defined by our inherent sexuality, or is it defined by our actions? I’d like to think that gay men are gay men, no matter how they dress, look, talk, or act.”

“How early did you hit the weed?” I teased.

“Dude, I’m not high or anything. But I’m pretty sure the author must be. I’ve just been thinking a lot about what it means to be gay, ever since I learned that I was.”

“Like two minutes ago?”

“Exactly. I really appreciate you being here for this dude, there’s nobody else I’d rather come out to,” Dan said appreciatively.

“Okay, fine, you’re gay, but I’m definitely not,” I insisted.

At just the right time, Dan’s phone beeped with an alert.

“It’s just a Twitter alert,” Dan said, glancing at the phone. “I’ve got them set up for the author, just in case he drops more ‘word of god’ stuff there.”

“What’s he tweeting about?”

“Apparently there are still some people who don’t think we seem gay,” Dan said. “He’s gonna write some tweets to ‘clarify some details’.”

“Aw fuck,” I groaned. “Does this mean all sorts of little shit is going to change?”

“You know as much as me,” Dan shrugged. “But I think it’s more of a con job. He’ll say the readers interpretation is wrong just because he never wrote down a detail that was part of his original intent, but that detail will usually change the story in a big way.”

“That seems really unfair, like he’s blaming the readers for not reading his mind.”

“Yeah, right?” Dan said with a flamboyant hand gesture. “Sorry, just trying that on for size. Feels weird. I just think it’s more unfair that he expects whatever picture people have formed of us is just… malleable.”

Dan’s phone beeped again.

“Here we go,” he said. “According to the author, when he mentioned we were wearing shorts earlier, he didn’t mention that they were matching running shorts, so short that you basically see our balls when we’re sitting. Yours are lime green, mine are hot pink.”

I sighed and looked down. Sure enough, my shorts were lime green with thin black trim, and they barely contained my cock. I could have sworn I was wearing cargo shorts or basketball shorts earlier today.

“Now do you believe we’re gay?” Dan asked, pointing at his hot pink crotch.

“Big deal man, we’re wearing colourful shorts… there’s got to be straight guys who’d wear these,” I lied.

“Maybe blue or black, but hot pink?” Dan said with a sassily raised eyebrow.

“Whatever,” I said, going back to my game. We were on the second level of the ice world, and I still hadn’t figured out the trick to this level.

“Oh, there’s another tweet,” Dan said, tapping on his phone. “He says we’re both info fun underwear too. Apparently you get colourful briefs, while I’m more of a neon thong guy.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled at the waistband of my shorts. Sure enough, I was wearing a pair of briefs with brightly coloured flowers on them.

“How fuckin’ stereotypical,” I fumed. “Gay guys don’t all have to wear colourful underwear.”

“Oh, so you’re finally ready to accept you’re gay?” Dan asked with that same raised eyebrow.

“I mean, I must be,” I said, gesturing to my floral underwear. “I can’t even remember what I thought I was wearing.”

“Sure, you could be a gay who doesn’t wear these,” Dan said, snapping the waistband of his highlighter yellow thong. “But if you do wear them, I think we’re pretty sure you’re gay.”

“That’s hard to argue,” I said. “I mean, maybe someone smarter than me could, but I’m the intellectual equal of the author, at best.”

“Yeah, and he’s got all the power,” Dan said, taking his turn at the level. At he played, there was another beep from his phone.

The light in the room dimmed as a pride flag hung itself over half our living room window. The living room itself had changed subtly, with dildos scattered in several places, and a large bottle of lube on the coffee table. I felt a strange attraction, wondering what we were going to do with those.

“Whoa,” Dan said, pausing the game. “This tweet just showed up. He says our apartment is full of dildos and all our neighbours know we’re gay from the giant pride flag.”

There was another bleep from phone.

“What now?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable as I sat on the couch. I shifted around, trying to make the unease go away.

“And this one says that the two of us are constantly fucking. Apparently you’re a total bottom Spencer,” Dan said to me.

Suddenly I understood why I was uneasy. My ass hadn’t been fucked all day. I needed a cock in my hungry hole like… right now. I glanced at Dan eagerly. I could see him getting hard inside his thong.

The goddamn phone beeped again.

“What, are we kinky leather boys now?” I asked sarcastically.

“Relax cupcake, this one’s pretty tame. He’s just saying we’re in a one bedroom apartment, how could anyone have thought we were straight?”

“That’s bullshit! It was clearly implied we had separate bedrooms this morning!” I practically shouted. “What a fuckin’ retcon.”

I jumped off the couch and stomped over to me room. It wasn’t what I expected. The bed had enlarged, the posters on the wall had all clearly become posters of hot dudes, and the dresser was full of obnoxious briefs and neon thongs.

Across the living room, Dan’s door had ceased to exist. I went and pressed my hands against the wall, trying to will his room back into existence. If there was one room, we weren’t just fuckbuddies… this was a relationship. Dan was… my boyfriend?

I felt Dan’s arms wrap around me, his cock pressing against my hole through the silky fabric of my shorts. “Stop worrying about it,” he said, kissing my neck. “C’mon cupcake, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he whispered into my ear.

I couldn’t deny what I was. I wanted him in me so bad.

We landed on the bed naked, our colourful clothing in a heap on the floor. I looked up at Dan’s meaty body, admiring the dedication he brought to the gym. I had to do that, just as soon as the gym existed. My dadbod had seemed so endearing this morning. Now I felt inadequate next to him.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he gasped, raising my legs onto his shoulders. I grinned, loving the way he made me feel sexy. Loving the way he showed me I was sexy, even if I didn’t have cut abs and mountainous pecs.

It wasn’t long before Dan had lubed up his dick and was sliding it inside of me. I gasped, my fingertips grasping at the clean sheets as Dan brought my body to ecstasy.

I could feel myself about to cum.

“C’mon author,” I begged. “Write a longer sex scene than that…”

Dan’s beautiful cock was rocking my hole, making strong and steady strokes, making my soul light up like fire every time he hit the right spot. I could hear his moaning, the tight squeeze of my ass gripping against his cock.

I felt sweat forming on my forehead. Dan was slapping my ass now, in perfect time with his fuck. I could barely focus enough to glance at his face and see the ecstasy he felt.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum soon bro…” he told me.

“Just a little longer,” I begged.

“I gotta… bro, I gotta cum….” Dan gasped, his cock pulsing inside of me. I felt mine jerk too, our orgasms happening at the same moment.

“Oh my god,” I laughed.

“Fuck, I love you,” Dan gasped, tumbling sideways on the bed and enjoying the euphoria that comes with an amazing fuck.

It was a few minutes before either of us could speak.

“So…. are you still pissed he made us gay?” Dan asked me finally.

“I was… dude, I was never pissed. I just didn’t believe we were really gay,” I defended myself. “But… yeah, I’m pretty sure now.”

“He stopped tweeting,” Dan said, glancing at his phone. “I wish he’d send one more. Just ‘clarify’ that my cock is about two inches bigger,” he said with a grin.

“Your cock is perfect,” I said flirtatiously. We probably won’t fuck again for a few hours, but there’s no harm in getting him revved up well in advance. Dan and I were either flirting, fucking, or in afterglow. I truly love him.

“Then I guess we don’t need the author anymore,” Dan said, digging around in a nightstand drawer.

“I guess so,” I said. “I wonder what what happens now. Do we just stay here, fucking over and over? Or do we like… have jobs? Can we even leave the apartment?”

“We’ll figure all that out,” Dan said, pulling a small black box out of the drawer. He got down on one knee.

“Dan… what are you doing?” I asked, eyes wide. Was the man of my dreams gonna…

“It’s time we write our own story now,” Dan said, popping open the ring box. “Will you marry me Spencer?”

My heart soared. I couldn’t believe it. It took a moment before I could even speak.

“Yes,” I finally said. “Yes. I love you. Now come stuff my ass with your cock.”

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