Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 14

Until this story is finished, I want you to imagine me as the meme of Elmo in front of flames. Typing at any opportunity, stuck in a hell of my own making, no longer caring about quality. We're getting this done.

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 13

“Hey, you been doing okay?”

Dillon looks down at my hand. “Yeah man,” he says like I’m being weird, and shakes me off to follow his friends down the hall.

I know it’s gross to park myself by the door. This isn’t stalking, though. I haven’t kept tabs on him, I haven’t tried to message him, I haven’t, like, triangulated his whereabouts, I haven’t learned his schedule. This is just me keeping an eye on who’s leaving, and being sober at a party for once. The thing about Dillon is that he’s not an all night party guy. He’s said before that he has a strict weekend curfew of two in the morning. “Otherwise it throws off my sleep schedule too much,” he told me once. And I was like, of course, how else do you have time to fuckin’ iron a fresh shirt if you’re not up by eight every fucking day? And Dillon had laughed. So when he packs it in for the night, I’m just like maybe we happen to walk back across the Hill at the same time. It’ll be like a check-in.

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 12

It’s almost the end of the month when I give in and find fucking Crispin Viera in the student union.

“I need to ask you something real quick.”

He folds his arms, cocks his hip out all queeny. “I’m not going with you to a second location.”

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 11

Y'all know I'm not having fun unless I'm torturing some characters a little bit.

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 10

The holidays are so goddam packed and yet I'm so goddam close to getting rid of this story from my overloaded brain. So I'm going to be posting more here. LFG.

Nothing in the world can get me to stop thinking about it. Sex with Dillon. I fucked him. He liked it. He said it was good. Not ten out of ten, but at least edging up on an eight. I fucked him. Dillon showed me how to fuck him, and I did it. We had sex.

I don't know what to do with this information.

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 9

Now that the first part is on Literotica I've found all the typos…my truth is that I 'll never, ever fix them because I would have to resubmit the entire story. You can't just edit a sentence or two on that website. So, I correct them in my original document and nowhere else. Maybe I'm the only one who thinks that's kind of funny? So the process is edit, publish here, edit, publish to a site, and then edit and…think about an ebook but probably do nothing.

Side note: I have neither the time nor the interest to figure out why sometimes these posts have different fonts. G'bless for sticking with me, you three.

If you've really enjoyed Concussion Jay, here's one last installment before his recovery. His should-have-been-short story is so, so close to being all the way out of my head and someone else's problem, to the point that I'll be posting here more frequently. This was hard to write, because I kept having to go back and replace my go-to synonyms with more simple, repetitive vocabulary. No metaphors; this dumb dumb doesn't talk like that! Stop making him so self-aware; he isn't there yet! Anyway, here's the sexy bit.

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 8

"How are you feeling?" Dillon asks once we're strapped in his car. It's a Jeep. His tall car was a Jeep the whole time. I never would have pictured him in a Jeep. Is Dillon more outdoorsy than his style would have him appear? Jesus.

"Better," I answer honestly. "I mean, I still feel loopy, but better. My head hurts."

"Good," he says.

I watch him drive in silence. This feels like we're back to normal. Normal was short for our weird little buddy-ship, but I enjoyed it while it was there. I am glad that Dillon didn't give up on me. It sucks that I had to get a concussion to figure that out, but maybe, "I got mad because I thought you had just been messing with me this whole time, like your deal was turning straight guys and laughing about it." The words just come out. This is worse than when we were drunk and he called me a dumb shit, because we were at least on the same level of functionality or whatever. Now I can't think straight, and Dillon's all level-headed and chill.

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 7

 I got a harebrained idea that I'm going to get two stories finished and out into the world before the end of the year. This one is flowing a little more naturally at the moment (and your feedback helps a lot, Cameron). Retrospectively, it's funny that I thought it would be a quick, flashy installment. The current draft is pushing 24,000 words.

There will be some continuity errors if you hold the Watching Him Back epilogue I posted as canon, but…we sally forth knowing that nobody will care all that much.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask Professor Valero, and he actually chuckles. “I’m passing? For real?”

He leans back against his desk. “Not only that, but I just finished grading the last test. You earned yourself a B.”

I must be grinning like an idiot. “Seriously?”

“Indeed.”

This is the first time I’ve ever left a meeting with a teacher feeling good about myself. I never had to worry about it before because I’m a fucking great cornerback when my ACL isn’t fucked. Okay, also it was easier to cheat in high school. Here, people get really mad if you fuck off during a group project. But, like, it’s feels fucking amazing to have tried and gotten a real result. I got a B on a Stat test! I gotta celebrate.

Who can I tell first?

Jay's Not Gay You Guys 6

“I am too fucking dumb for this,” I groan.

Dillon puts his pen down. “Have you ever been tested for ADHD?”

“Nah, my mom wouldn’t let me because she said that Ritalin makes you bipolar.”

Dillon is silent.

“Yeah, she has some theories,” I explain sheepishly. “Everything I learn in college makes it harder to go home. And my mom isn’t dumb! It’s just…whatever.”

Ugh, Dillon looks so goddam sympathetic. “I don’t really think you’re stupid, Jay. I think nobody taught you how to learn in a system that isn’t built for you. Wait, why are you standing up?”

I hadn’t realized I was out of my seat. I sit. “What?”

“No, I was just saying that you probably learn differently.”

“Like a disability?”

Jay's Not Gay You Guys 5

I manage to not bring it up when Dillon finally sets up a tutoring session. Well, kind of. He said I wasn’t his bro, which feels bad. The same chatbot that suggested I apologize with specifics also said I should ask Dillon follow up questions about shit he’s already brought up. It steered me right the last time, so after a full hour of being a loyal study dog I try out one of the friendship-building tactics.

“You and Viera are still friends, huh? Is that weird in the, you know, queer community here?”

Dillon looks at me like I grew a second head. “Cris is the only other one who didn’t know. And was also getting cheated on.”

“Yeah, you said. No, I just mean, like…who do you, like, date? If you’re mad at everyone.” I’m showing compassion and an interest in his life. Good job, me.

Jay's Not Gay You Guys 4

I did a word count check on this Watching Him Back epilogue, and it's long. Long in a way that makes me question whether it's worth it. I get to write about another dumbass, though, so at least I'm having fun. Right guys? Right?

Right?

Here's more of this:

Jay's Not Gay, You Guys 2

"Are you going the foam party on Friday?" I ask casually in lab.

Dillon shakes his head, and then sighs. "Yeah, actually." I knew this, but it makes it way easier knowing that he doesn't want to go. We work in silence for a little bit, until he does what I want and asks, "You?"

"Naw, man," I say. "My friend Carter's pledging Sig Ep, and they're all having a Fortnite tournament. It’s supposed to be a fundraiser."

Dillon seems to perk up at that, but he doesn't say anything.

"You wanna come?" I can feel him analyzing me, but my face is all up in the microscope. "Okay, I found the water flea."

Dillon passes me a dropper of alcohol and replies, "I could make it."

Will.5

I'm in the part of this story where I don't really know what a satisfying ending would be. Will's perspective, which in my head cannon is after the events of Declan's story, is already published in "Olive Juice," so we know where they end up. I'm open to suggestions.

If you haven't read the previous parts…that's what the tags are for, baby.

“No offense, but I’m going to be sick.”

My parents were both about to scold me for being snarky when Cassie walked in, probably from show choir or something. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

Mom, Dad, and I almost spoke simultaneously. “Nothing.”

Cassie gave us a funny look, and then got a super annoying smirk. “Is this about Declan’s crush on Will?”

Ha ha! With that I escaped upstairs so that my sister could get the It’s-Unkind-And-Unsafe-To-Out-Someone speech. They even made her come tell me sorry, which was amazing. Cassie was so frickin mad.

One good thing about prom coming up was that no one was looking at me or Will. Surviving the week and prom was the only conversation we had. I tried to invite Will to lunch off-campus, but a group of our friends caught up to us on the way.

Will.4

 "I mean, of course you don't have to," I began, but Will saved me the embarrassment of giving him an out by coming back to me.

He sat next to me and clasped his hands. "What do you want me to do?"

Was it not obvious? I wanted a fricking handjob. But Will, I was realizing, was delicate. Not like me. I needed to be as gentle with him as he’d been with me. "Just touch me," I replied, placing my hand on the back of his head. Will responded softly when I kissed him. He let me draw him to me again, and as I sat back Will's leg slipped over mine. It was like it belonged there. Like his little noises, like his cum drying sticky on my stomach, like his hand on my neck.

Will.3

 Read part 2 here.

Will hadn't quite caught up to me yet. Maybe he thought I was going to try and smother him with a couch pillow. He wiped his eyes with one hand, still laughing a little bit, and looked up at me.

I kissed him.

All these feelings came rushing through me too fast to distinguish one from another, and they formed a tight pulsing ball in the center of my chest. Together they sang at me, "What are you doing?"

The kiss was brief, maybe only a second or two longer than that first one. Will giggled when our lips separated. I couldn't watch him smile and not smile back. How could anyone, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and that one dimple appeared, just on the right cheek?

“Was that okay?” I asked quietly. “Can I do it again?”

Watching Him Back 4.6

I remembered my login.

The couch is just large enough that I can straddle my boyfriend’s lap. Crispin’s hands wander over my skin as I kiss his mouth, pull me closer when I grind against him. Our skin burns where it touches. I’m on fire, I’m so hard it hurts. Crispin’s cock curves up against the cleft of my ass. It’s still scary, but that portion of my brain shouting, This will really hurt! gets smaller and more garbled with every taste of Crispin’s tongue.

With lips still pressed to mine Crispin fumbles for the lube. “You ready?”

“I’m still ready,” I respond, lying less this time.

"Then take off your underwear."

"You take it off," I respond. It's kind of fun to be a brat.

Read the rest at https://reamstories.com/acerbicscribbler

Will 2

The explanation for this section is here. There's some clunkiness ahead that need to be addressed…unless you can't tell where it is.

As much as I wanted to pretend like things are all cool, the next day school was just weird. I felt like everyone just knew, somehow, that Will had kissed me yesterday. He could have texted me sorry, but he didn't, and so even though I knew I shouldn't think this way a small part of me doubted that he was sorry at all. Maybe he was gay and just felt like he couldn't tell anyone. Or maybe it had been so long since hed gotten some that everything just kind of spilled out when I stepped forward to close the door after him. There was a spiky cloud over my head. What if Cassie told in spite of her promise? It would get around so fast. I'd never been bullied, but I could imagine that it would suck. Or maybe the gay kids here didn't have to deal with that since no one really cared. Maybe I should corner one of them and ask, just in case.

Will didn't look at me the whole day. He laughed when I made a joke and he talked to Josh plenty, but not even once did his black cartoon eyes lift to meet mine. It made me feel super guilty for some reason, like me freaking out at home had somehow passed through the ether to reach Will, and he knew and felt even worse than I did and was punishing himself for kissing me. It's not like we had been in a fight. I knew how to come back from those, but how could we possibly get past the goodbye peck at my door yesterday? So, I fell back on old habits and invited Will over after school.

Excerpt from "Couldn't"

After "Shouldn't" (Friday) and "Wouldn't" (Saturday) comes the Sunday wrap-up. My goal is to keep Richard's voice consistent even as he gets more comfortable with having Cody around.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you love me?” Cody asks.

Ah, yes. He’s a teenager. I prop myself up on my elbow. “In what sense?”

He glances off to the side. “Like…you know.”

Making my voice as gentle as possible, I reply, “Cody, just because our bodies fit each other doesn’t mean our minds or our hearts do. Of course I care about you, and I want you to be happy, but…”

“You don’t love me,” Cody finishes sourly.

How do I put this so that this man-boy can understand? “You’re looking in the wrong place,” I say. “If your parents are hurting your feelings, you can’t use sex to fix that. When this happens again, which is likely given your history of bullheadedness, are you going to start fixating on another authority figure? Sex doesn’t ‘fix’ anything. It’s our bodies’ expression of a chemical reaction that tells our reproductive systems—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Cody interrupts. “Just…I know you could tell I liked you.”

I bonk him on the head. “Yeah, you drew pictures of us fucking on your homework. That’s not subtle.”

He smiles reluctantly. “Before that. I thought you could tell.”

I have to choose my words very carefully. “It’s always easier not to wonder.”

That must have been the right answer—who knows how Cody interprets it—because his gaze lifts to meet mine. “I didn’t know if you’d let me in,” he confesses.

Rolling my eyes, I retort, “I couldn’t leave you out in that weather, no matter how much you harrassed me.”

Cody grins and rolls to match my posture. “You knew what would happen, though,” he says slyly.

Some might argue that I did. How, though, would I have ever reckoned that I would be watching the clock with a heavy heart? “Don’t assume that human kindness is an invitation for anal sex, moron,” I snap, and make as though to leave the warm confines of my sheets. Cody reaches for my waist; I’m not surprised when he draws me to fit inside the curve of his body.

I remind him, “No more. As it is I’ll be sore for days.”

He pulls my chin toward him for a kiss. “You can teach me instead,” he offers as though it’s a stellar bargain. “Expand my horizons, Mr. Hale.”

Will.1

The first story I started in this universe currently holds the title of "Prom Night," which is about a girl who tries to help her neighbor come out of the closet. The small city, private school setting provided the teacher for "Shouldn't." A tertiary character mentioned in "Prom Night" became one of the main characters in a short extra called "Olive Juice." Then I thought, Wouldn't it be nice to tell the story from the other guy's perspective? So "Shouldn't" is getting a sequel called, "Wouldn't" (I'm very creative) and "Olive Juice" has a prequel from Declan's point of view. Here's the part where the action kicks off.

We both realize what he just did at the same time. I think I frown, I don't know, but Will's eyes get huge. I never realized how black his eyes were until his face turned into a cartoon. Just two black circles on his face surrounded by shaggy black hair. It would have been funny at any other time. He looked like he was about to apologize, and then he ran, literally ran, to his car. He almost backed into our mailbox, he was in such a hurry to leave.

Windshield Incident 3 eBook Available

On the anniversary of Part 2, the 3rd installment of The Windshield Incident is now published and available for download. It's here on Smashwords, and will eventually show up on Apple, Kindle, Nook, and other partnered eBook retail sites. It's like buying me a quarter cup of coffee to keep me alert and typing.

Fun fact: The background colors correspond to Grant's mental and emotional state.
Guess what color Part 4 will be.