Blake Gets Cocky

By Derek Williams -
published March 15, 2020
5775 words

The night from Blake’s perspective.

Monday nights our whole frat gets together in the living room and has a house meeting. There are twelve of us, all living in this noisy, messy, fuckpad of a home, and it’s really just the easiest way to make sure nobody kills anyone else. We have a few standard items - planning the next event, going through the chore schedule, that kinda stuff. Then Tyler opens the floor up to any concerns or announcements anyone might have.

I’d been dreading it for months, but I felt like I had to do it. It was February, and I could probably put it off forever, but I felt like I owed my bros the truth. So I raised my hand.

“Blake has the floor,” Tyler said, revelling in his role as the leader of our chapter.

“Thanks guys,” I said. “I uh… I don’t know how to say this, but there’s something that I feel I need to come clean about you guys with… it’s uh…”

“Fuck man, are you the one who threw up in the pool on Saturday night?” quipped Pat, this sophomore who thinks he’s way funnier than he really is.

“No,” I said, not laughing. That sort of cued the guys in to the seriousness of what I was gonna say.

“It’s just… well, here goes. Mom, Dad, I’m gay.”

I was prepared for every reaction. I had my gym bag by the door stuffed with clothes and my laptop and stuff, just in case they chucked me out on the street. I had all kinds of informational and educational things I could show them if they needed more info. I even had a friend ready to call me in an hour, and if I didn’t answer the cops were gonna show up.

The reaction I got was a long silence. I tried not to avoid eye contact, but man, that’s tough in the situation. I felt simultaneously locked into each of their gazes and completely unable to look anyone in the eye. Long seconds ticked by as my brothers looked nervous and unsure.

I could feel the snake in my gut coiling tight.

“Bro, that’s fuckin’ cool!” Tyler finally said after an interminable minute. “Blake, thank you so much for trusting us enough to come out to us!”

And with that signal, suddenly my brothers were all over me, clapping me on the back and shaking my hand and giving me big hugs. Saying the kind of supportive stuff I never would have expected from a room of young guys who liked to razz each other hard.

Monday meetings are normally a beer-free evening, but Tyler broke out a few sixers from our emergency supplies and soon we were having a private little party to celebrate. The snake in my gut relaxed, and I could feel an enormous weight lift off my shoulders. And trust me, I’m at the gym six days a week, I can lift a lot of weight.

“Anything you need man,” Tyler said. “Your bros are here for you.”

I didn’t feel alone anymore.

I guess it’s the same for everybody. It seems like coming out is going to be the scariest step, but it turns out that you don’t just say “I’m gay” and then suddenly have that life you always wanted. When I woke up Tuesday, I was still the same old Blake, just a little more hungover and with a lot less concern about someone seeing my internet search history.

More than anything, I wanted to go and live a little bit of the life I saw on the internet. It seemed like the whole world was full of gay dudes heading out to bars, dancing their sparkling asses off, hooking up, fucking like wild men, and doing it all again the next night.

I knew I could look like those guys if I wanted to. I’m a total gym rat, one of the many ways I’ve figured out to focus on something other than my dick. And sure, the gym is full of muscled up guys who I’d kill to have a shot with, but I just throw on a ball cap and look angry. Everyone stays out of my way.

Then I go home and jerk off til my dick hurts.

It’s a system that’s been working for me.

I didn’t want to be scared anymore though. I wanted to dress the way I want. I wanted to act the way I want. I wanted to dance the way I want.

I had no idea how. But Tyler’s words were echoing in my head. My bros are there for me, anything I need.

“Hey Jeff,” I said, bringing it up on Friday afternoon, just on our way home from our regular gym session. “I got kinda a weird question, but I’m hoping you’ll say yes to –“

“Bro, whatever it is, short of fucking, you know I’m down.” Jeff grinned. He was a pretty cool guy. Sometimes a little off the wall when he gets too drunk, and like no filter, but that’s what you want from a brother.

Besides, Jeff’s a killer fuckin’ wingman, and I kinda needed a killer wingman for my plan. And if all else failed, I knew he’d be up to bail and hit up a sports bar or something.

“Jeff…” I said, “I wanna go out and see if I can meet a guy. Like another gay dude. And I’m sorta super scared to go to a gay bar alone. I don’t wanna just be some loser alone, y’know?”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Jeff said. “Not really my scene buddy, but I guess you’ve hung out at lots of straight clubs with us, right? Let’s bring a few guys, make a night of it, huh?”

“Yeah… I’ll ask around,” I said. Truth be told, I didn’t want too many of the guys there. Knowing them, they’d end up with all the attention and I’d end up sitting in a corner somewhere, nursing my beer.

I wanted Jeff to be my wingman. And I wanted Tucker… I know that’s a crush that’s never going to happen, but I had this stupid little fantasy that our resident nerdy bro would somehow swoon for me, if only I could get him under neon lights.

“Hey Tucker,” I leaned against the doorframe of his room and gave a fake little knock. “I, uh, I’m planning on heading out and maybe hitting up a gay bar tonight. You know, get my feet wet. Jeff’s gonna come along, and I was wondering if you wanted to come too?” I heard my voice pitch up a little at the end. Just nerves. Hopefully he wouldn’t pick up on it.

Tucker was working on Riley’s term paper, and probably just wanted to stay in and watch Star Trek like he did most nights, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask. If he said no, I’d just get totally wasted and probably spend my first night at a gay bar crying on some randoms shoulder.

“Really man? I’d love to,” Tucker said, giving me that genuine smile I loved to see.

My heart beat faster. Fuck, I couldn’t believe he said yes. Maybe there was something to my pathetic fantasy after all.

“Cool,” I said, trying to look chill. “We’re gonna leave about nine thirty, though I think Jeff might crack open a couple beers before that. Maybe watch a movie first, you know?”

“I really have to finish up this paper for Riley,” Tucker said, “but I’ll meet you downstairs at nine thirty. And thanks again Blake, I’m really happy you invited me.”

“Nine-thirty bro,” I said, giving him some finger guns, then heading back to my room.

I didn’t exhale until the door was safely shut.

Normally, I’m kind of a jeans-and-a-tshirt guy. Until Monday it was mostly just protective camouflage, and now it’s sort of force of habit. But I’ve got a few things over the years, stuff that kinda plays into the way I want to look, now that I’m out.

When I look at guys I want to fuck, I’ve sort of got two types. One of them is so stereotypical - I want a cocky jockbro, heavy on the muscle, light on the clothes, and with a big ass to take my thick dick. But everyone wants that, right? The other kind of guy I lust after is dudes like Tucker. Smart, genuine, always smiling and looking for ways to help. That one’s less about the body, and more about the person. Like, I could fuck a porn star, but I’d want to marry Tucker.

But when I think about how I want to dress… I have to admit I’ve got a preppy streak deep down. Sometimes I wish I was in a frat down south, because the idea of pastel shorts with a collared shirt and a bowtie basically makes me blow my load. Boat shoes are just a bonus.

I had a few hours to pick, and I won’t admit this to anyone else, but I only tried on one outfit. This pair of khakis that I bought a few years back. They’re kinda small on me now, but I like the way they hug my ass and advertise my cock. Sometimes I see a dude giving me two or three looks when I wear them, and now maybe I’d be brave enough to do something about it. Then I added on a textured white polo shirt that I’ve had since I was a freshman. I think I bought it for a formal once, and as I’ve grown, I slip it on every month or two and watch the way my pecs are almost at it’s breaking point.

I put on that outfit around four, and then just paced around my room til like seven, stealing glances at myself in the mirror every twenty seconds. Was it too showy? I liked the way it made me look like such a gym god, but was this what a gay guy should wear to go to the bar? Maybe I should have borrowed a tank top from one of the guys, or gone with something a little more my normal style. Ultimately, it was Jeff knocking at my door that sealed the deal.

“Hey man,” he said, giving me a once-over. “Looking good! I’m throwing on a movie downstairs, grab us a couple beers and join in man.” Jeff wasn’t exactly dressed to blend in either, the way his black T hugged his thick arms. His red hair was buzzed short like normal, and it gave him a ‘tough guy’ look that wasn’t for me, but certainly seemed to capture the ladies.

“Sure thing,” I said. Fuck, now I had to go out like this. “I’ll grab the beers.”

We walked through the doors of the bar later than I’d intended, just after ten o’clock. I wanted to get there early, scope it out, maybe step into the shallow end of the pool before going off the high dive. You know?

But Jeff wanted to finish the fucking movie. Because we haven’t all seen a car chase before. And I knew that if I told him we were headed out, he’d never actually meet Tucker and me at the bar. And then I’d be at the bar alone with Tucker, fighting my conflicting impulse to get him drunk enough for a makeout session with my need to be a good bro.

So we got there after ten. And we had to pay cover. And I wasn’t ready for any of it.

“Look at this place Blake,” Tucker said to me. “Isn’t this cool?” He seemed excited by the strobe lights and mirrors and packed dance floor. He kept glancing over, checking to see if I was having the best time ever. I really wanted to.

Jeff mumbled something non-committal and fucked right off, headed for the nearest straight woman he could find at the bar. I swear, once he locks onto a target, that man is like a guided missile. A pussy hungry missile.

“This is so weird,” I said, trying to come up with something that would make Tucker happy. “I checked his place out on the internet, looked at pictures and stuff, but…”

“I got you man,” Tucker grinned, giving me a hard squeeze on the shoulder, oblivious that the semi I was rocking was entirely for him.

He steered us towards a bar at the far end of the room. It seemed less crowded than the one right beside the dance floor, and before I knew it we were doing tequila shots. Tucker paid, giving me that big open-hearted grin he has. So I felt like I should return the favour, and we slammed back another pair of tequilas. Then cocktails - he got something with a cherry in it, I got whatever the drink special was that night.

And the next thing you knew, we were standing against a side-wall, watching dancing men and trying to hear each other over the noise.

I honestly had no idea if Tucker was into me or not. I mean, who just buys someone a shot right away? Or was he just being super supportive? And the way he was making physical contact, squeezing my shoulder, leading me around with his arm over my shoulders… for a second I almost believed he was hitting on me.

But that was wishful thinking.

“Hey,” he yelled over the noise. “So I don’t know shit about what guys like. What are you into?” he asked.


“What kind of guy are you into?” he shouted back over the music.

I couldn’t very well yell “You!”, grab him by the cock, and start sucking him off right there. Though I’ll admit that there’s a small part of me that considered it.

“I mean, I know from like… porn and stuff,” I said, hoping maybe he’d give up. “But I don’t know what I like in real life bro.”

“Makes sense! What do you look for in porn? Like, what makes you hot bro?” he shouted. I had a brief vision of the whole club quieting down in one of those odd moments where the silence syncs up and that sentence being screamed over an empty room. But thankfully that didn’t happen.

I tried to fend off the conversation again. “I just uh… man, I know you’re cool with me being gay and all, but it’s weird, y’know? Talking about dudes with you?”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at me with those big open eyes.

“Yeah, like I mean… it’s super weird talking to anyone about guys.” Especially him. Especially here. If we were alone in my bedroom having this conversation, I might be spilling my guts at him already.

“I get that,” Tucker laughed. “I’m suuuuuper awkward talking chicks, and I’m straight as fuck. You just came out man, there’s no magic here. Get comfortable and we’ll talk whenever.”

Then we just stood there, watching guys dance while I was trying to look like I was having a blast. Eventually I said something, just to break the noisy silence.

“I like guys who are kinda done up, I guess,” I said. “And like confident muscle dudes. You know, the kind of guys who are always flaunting it.”

“Yeah man! Awesome!” Tucker said, looking around the room for anyone who might match that description. I’m sure it won’t surprise you that there are a few confident muscle dudes in a gay bar. Eventually he waved one over. This hispanic guy.

I started to panic. I wasn’t ready. I was barely ready to walk in the door, what was Tucker doing trying to introduce me to a man like…

“Carlos,” said the guy, giving me a head nod that doubled as a once-over. He was hot, in exactly the way I had asked for. But I wasn’t ready.

“Hey,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t really be able to hear me.

“I’m Tucker,” Tucker shouted, making himself easily heard. “This is Blake. First night here! Is this a good crowd?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, giving both of us a careful look. “Don’t tell me, you’re just come out,” he said pointing at me, “And this is your straight buddy, come for support.” He gave me a wink, like he knew exactly why I’d invited Tucker along, even though I’d long since lost hope in the fantasy.

Tucker and Carlos shouted back and forth for a second. Finally Carlos seemed to head off, leaving me with a promise. “It’s good to meet you Blake. Stick around, you’re gonna have some fun tonight!”

“Can we go?” I asked. But I don’t think Tucker heard me.

I was still trying to get Tucker to hear me when the bar lights came up and started flashing like we were at the opera or something. Everything calmed down, and everyone in the room looked up at the stage. A drag queen was coming up on stage, which surprised me because the bars website didn’t say anything about a drag night.

“Attention BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE,” said the Queen, broadcasting her voice over the large room. “I have an ANNOUNCEMENT!”


I glanced around. Tucker looked like he was just rolling with it. Over by the long bar, Jeff was giving me the ‘what gives man?’ look. I just shrugged and looked back at the stage.

“STRAIGHT PEOPLE - GET OUT!” she said, waving her arms like she was gesturing them towards the door.

A couple guys around the room looked caught out, but Jeff and Tucker were standing their ground. “Maybe we should go,” I said quietly to Tucker. “I don’t want you guys in trouble or anything.”

But it was too late. She pulled out this wand contraption and glitter flew out of it. None of the glitter touched me, but both Jeff and Tucker were doused in the stuff. Tucker’s whole hoodie looked like it was never gonna be the same again, and he was definitely going to have to give his hair a thorough wash before bed.

“THIS IS A SAFE SPACE!” she said, moving off the stage in a show-y away.

And then the bar was moving again, dancing, lights, the whole thing. Like that weird fucking moment never even happened.

That’s when the night started getting weird. Tucker suddenly seemed to be the most interesting dude in the room, as guy after guy came up to him and asked if he was straight. The first guy was this skater bro kind of a dude - backwards trucker cap, jeans, no shirt and thin frame.

“Hey, you’re straight, right?” he asked Tucker.

“Yeah,” Tucker said, “Just here to support my bud,” he motioned towards me. I just hoped he wasn’t going to try and hook me up with this guy too. I just wanted to go home.

“No worries bro,” said the guy. “You’re a good friend, just curious though, if you were gay, would you wear your hair all shaggy like that?”

Which is kind of a shitty thing to say to someone, whether they’re a straight person in a gay bar or not. But Tucker wasn’t fazed. He just said something about how he’d probably wear more of a surfer cut. Something a little longer and more styled.

And then just like that, I blinked and his hair had changed. In a moment, Tucker had gone from having a boyish nest of blond hair to an overstyled blond cut that made him look like he rode waves. Tucker barely knows how to swim, let alone how to surf.

“It looks great on you, too bad you’re not gay!” the guy said, then headed away.

“Dude… Tucker, what just happened?” I asked, shouting to be heard over the bass of the speakers. “That guy asked you about your hair and… dude you got your hair just like that. It’s good but what happened?” I asked.

“Relax Blake,” Tucker shouted back. “You probably just never see it like this.”

Just what was in that drink special?

Tucker had slipped off to the bathroom, and I was hanging out trying to wrap my head around the situation. I was trying to get a glimpse of Jeff across the room. Something was happening there too. This guy in plaid was chatting with Jeff, and Jeff’s beer shifted from a beer to some cocktail right in front of my eyes. Not like he ordered a new one, I swear to god man, it changed right in front of me.

But that’s when Tucker came back.

“Dude, look at yourself!” I shouted over the music. Tucker had changed his whole look. His baggy hoodie was gone, replaced with one that hugged his body tightly. His jeans had become an indigo denim that hugged his surprisingly cute looking ass. And was he wearing nail polish? Was he wearing that surfer necklace before? What was going on?

“You never dress like this!” I yelled as he gave himself an approving look in the mirror.

“Is it the belt?” he asked. He lifted his hoodie to show a white belt against the dark jeans.

“No it’s not the fucking belt man, I mean… yeah, it is, but it’s… fuck what’s happening? What did they do to you in there?” I almost screamed.

“In the bathroom? Whatever man, I took a piss and some dude complimented my look.”

How was he so oblivious to these changes? It had to have something to do with that drag queen and her magic.

“Fuck man, look at yourself. That’s not how you dress!” I yelled.

“Don’t worry, I brought my jacket and shit,” Tucker gave me a disarming grin.

“No that’s… fuck man, no…. Okay, I’m gonna go talk to Jeff bro, something’s changing both of you. I gotta figure this out…” I said. I doubt Tucker really even heard me, he was so busy fussing with his look in the mirror and making sure his hair was perfectly in place.

The situation with Jeff was entirely different and entirely the same.

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re making such a big deal about, I loooooove appletini’s,” he was telling me.

Now I don’t give a shit what a guy drinks, but Jeff loves beer more than life itself. I offered to get him one and all he would say is “Oh no, that shit’s nasty. I told you man, I’m not gonna sleep with you, no matter how boozed up you get me. But if you’re gonna…” he wiggled his empty cocktail glass.

“I swear to god man, you’re changing,” I said to him. “Look at yourself. You used to be more kinda burly muscle. Now you’re cut as fuck. You keep lifting your shirt to show fucking abs man! Two hours ago, you were slapping your own stomach fat and making all the guys at the house laugh…”

“You jealous of these abs?” Jeff asked, lifting his shirt again to show them off.

“No, I’m fucking scared for you!” I screamed.

“Go hang with Tucker man, I got ladies to hit on,” Jeff shot back.

I turned to go, trying to find something useful to help them. “Hey,” I heard someone say to Jeff behind me. “You’re straight, right?”

It took me quite a while to hunt down Esmerelda. That was the drag queens name, and she always seemed to be on the other side of the crowd. I kept pushing through groups of people, men who an hour ago scared me to death, now they were just obstacles to finding out what was happening to my brothers.

Finally I caught up to her, catching her as she crossed the stage.

“Hey,” I shouted to be heard over the din. “What’s happening with the glitter?”

She turned to look at me. There was something deeply scary about her. Something deeply disturbing.

“Hey hon,” she said, somehow incredibly easy to hear despite not raising her voice a decibel. “First time here tonight?”

“My friends are changing,” I yelled.

“I know,” she said. “You brought some straight friends along, right? They ignored my warning? Thought they were okay to take over our space, just because you’re here with them?”

“And so you’re changing them into… what?” I yelled.

I looked across the room, finding both Jeff and Tucker dancing their hearts out. Jeff was grinding with this guy in a flower tanktop, his cut new body now draped in a neon tank top and some cutoff shorts.

Tucker almost had it better, his body having new mounds of muscle that were barely hidden by a pair of 80’s gym shorts and a deep muscle tank. He looked like he was having the time of his life, swarmed by four twinks wearing barely anything, dancing his heart out as they groped his altered body.

This wasn’t how they should look. This wasn’t how they should act. I knew that, but somehow neither of them had a clue.

“Turn them back!” I screamed.

“No,” she said.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” she said. “This is a gay bar. We fill it with gay boys. I’m sorry if you’re too much of a fucking tightass to enjoy this, but your friends are going to be happier. Besides, this is what they’ve chosen. Every change, every choice, it’s entirely up to them.”

“FUCK YOU!” I yelled.

“Hey Blake,” I heard Tucker’s voice behind me. “Is everything okay?”

Tucker was a distorted reflection of the amazing man I’d brought into the bar. His bulging muscles and barely-there clothes made him look like every tumblr model I’d ever jerked off to. His manicured nails and overdone hair took him past handsome and all the way to pretty. He made my cock rock hard and my heart horrified all at the same time. The snake in my gut was back with a vengeance.

“No, everything is not okay,” I shouted. “I want Esmerelda here to turn you back the way you were, but she fucking WON’T.”

“It’s cool man, I’ll just grab a shower when I get home,” he grinned disarmingly. Fuck, if I’d met him like this… but this wasn’t who Tucker really was. “Let’s go dance,” he said.

“See Blake,” Esmerelda chimed in. “He’s not in pain or in trouble. He just wants to dance. Go dance.”

“I don’t want him to be some dumbass,” I shouted back. “This guy is one of the smartest dudes I know, but now you’ve got him obsessed with his looks and his gym membership. And I don’t want some Appletini dance queen,” I cried gesturing towards Jeff. “I want my buddies back the way I brought them."

“No,” Esmerelda stood firm. “You get to make your choices, but they get to make theirs too. Like I’m not gonna touch that polo shirt, even though you’d look way hotter with a proper shirt and tie, if you’re gonna go for that preppy look. Watch him make up his own mind.”

“Hey hon,” she said turning to Tucker. “You’re straight right?”

“No!” I yelled.

“Totally,” Tucker said, oblivious to the peril he was facing. “This is my buddy Blake. Isn’t he cool?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I screamed at her. But she pushed me aside and asked Tucker a question. “Would you want to be a dumbass if you were gay? Or would you just want to act like one?”

“That’s not even a fair question!” I screamed, trying to get between them.

“I guess… I mean, gay dudes don’t act like something they’re not,” Tucker said with a big grin. And then I swear to god, I saw the lights behind his eyes dim. All that intelligence, all that cleverness, just gone. Instead I could see a dimwitted mind at work, fundamentally kind, but lost in a sea of lust.

“C’mon bruh, let’s dance,” Tucker said, pulling on the sleeve of my polo.

“Turn him back, right now!” I roared at the Queen.

“I can’t,” she said. “But I can make you okay with this!” She swung her wand up. I tried to dodge, but there wasn’t enough time. A burst of light dazzled my eyes and made me see rainbows.

“You’ve always been afraid,” Esmerelda said in the dark, “of what other people thought. You always hid away, trying to be something different than you really are. And you don’t need to do that, not anymore. This is a safe space, and whatever you need, we’re all family, and we’ve got your back.”

And as the streaks faded from my eyes, I began to see the situation in a different light.

I felt different inside.

I wasn’t powerless, just trying to get through the experience. I controlled my life, and I controlled my actions, and I could be whoever I needed to be.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, seeing the compromise that I’d spent years putting together. A rocking body, but covered with clothes to let me blend in. A confident man, hiding scared behind the facade of straightness I’d built up over the years. Someone who only felt justified taking action if others agreed.

But fuck that. I could do whatever I wanted. I was out now. I was queer. I wasn’t some fucking faggot hiding in my bedroom jerking off to tumblr. I was a fag, fucking whoever I wanted, wherever I wanted, however I wanted.

Man I couldn’t wait to re-do my wardrobe. Get a better haircut. Be the preppy stud I had inside me.

And Tucker…

“Don’t ask how,” said Esmerelda. “Just ask whatever questions you want, because last call happens in an hour, and he’s gonna be whoever you want him to be.”

“Yeah… he’s whoever I want.” I said. “Yeah.”

And I wanted him. Confident, over-muscled, pretty to the point of being beautiful. Tucker was my dream man. I wondered what his ass would feel like when I pounded him with my dripping cock.

“Hey,” I said to Tucker, without a hint of hesitation. “You’re straight, right?”

“Legit brah,” he said, smiling that big empty grin at me. Man, I loved the way he let me lead.

“Would you want to make out with me, if you were gay?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Fuck yeah!” he said. And then he pushed me against the mirrored wall of the stage, the whole bar laid out before us as an audience. And we stayed that way for years, maybe minutes, I really didn’t know. I really didn’t care. I got exactly what I wanted.

Maybe a little dumber and sluttier, but that didn’t seem like a problem anymore.

I didn’t need someone who wanted to hide with me. I needed someone who wanted to fuck in front of the world.

I felt a soft tap on my bare shoulder. “Two minutes to last call,” Esmerelda smiled at me. “Time for last wishes… for tonight.”

Tucker gave a confused look, then went back for another kiss. I pushed him away firmly. I had one more wish before we called this a lock.

“Hey Tucker, you’re straight, right?” I said softly.

“Yeah bruh,” said the man who’d been passionately making out with me. “You wanna get shots or something?”

“If you were gay, would you want cock? In your ass? In your mouth? Would you be crazy for it?”

“Well, duh!” he cheered. “I love cock. But I am gay bro, there aren’t any straight guys here. This is a GAY BAR!”

I felt his strong hand reach down and squeeze my heavy balls through the thin fabric of my khakis. “You wanna ditch this place? Head back to the house?” he asked.

“Fuck yeah,” I said. “I’m ready to fuck you til sunrise.”

Jeff didn’t want to walk back with us. There was this 20-something jock he’d met, and he didn’t think he’d be home for a day or two. “I need a real deep dicking,” he giggled, “and Liam is the girl who’s gonna do me!”

That suited me fine, I didn’t need any company except Tucker tonight.

There was a chill in the air as we walked back towards the house, made worse by the sweat that had soaked my clothes. Tucker didn’t ever find his shirt again, and he threw on a motorcycle jacked and draped his thick arm over my muscular shoulders.

Riley was sitting on the front porch when we walked up. He was smoking a joint alone, killing the last of a beer, and generally looking pissed off.

“Stupid fucking night,” he complained. “This bitch led me on for hours, but then she started making excuses about having an early class. It’s fucking Friday!” he ranted.

“That sucks bruh,” Tucker said with his wide grin and caring eyes.

“Maybe you come out with us next week? There’s lots of straight guys who have fun at this gay bar we know.”

Hey guys, I feel like I’m on a roll with this one, so I wanted to give you one last perspective of the evening from Blake himself. I know I left the door open there at the end, and maybe I’ll revisit this universe someday, but for now let’s put a bowtie on it and call it happy. Keep those cocks out my bros. -Derek

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