CoD Chapter Three
Chapter 3
Red, White, and Rainbow
Gay Pride Week is apparently a big deal in DC. Even the young Republicans club that is his office is buzzing about the parties they want to attend. He knows that they have a huge celebration in Los Angeles with a parade and parties (and even in Dallas some type of celebration happens) but the majority of his past summer time has been spent either on a stage or on a tour bus so he has never actually seen a Pride celebration. The interns in his office are mostly interested in
1. Witnessing what they consider to be a novelty freak show, and
2. Getting really drunk at what are rumored to be some of the best parties at the best clubs in the District.
At his apartment, however, it is a whole different scene. In the few weeks they have been in DC, Roommate Dale has somehow managed to become a major player in the organization of Pride Week. And he’s recruiting. The two girls in the apartment are his adoring lackeys and every night when he gets home some type of serious conference is going on among twenty-ish random strangers. By the time there are about two weeks to go until the festivities start, he gives up on the apartment entirely and starts taking advantage of the extended summer hours at the Smithsonians.
Still, he’s genuinely, if silently, really interested to see what this is going to be like. And though he has never talked about anything like this with anyone, he brings it up with Joe while they are skyping Friday afternoon (he has to see his expression for big discussions like this). Joe looks tired but excited. It’s his last show of the summer and he’s in New York.
The image of Joe is sitting in front of him, legs crossed on top of a hotel bed. He is resting his elbows on his knees and leaning into his laptop. If they we’re together he would be pushing into Nick’s space, maybe putting a hand on Nick’s knee as he leans in for what he can tell is a serious Nick conversation.
“Everyone in the office is talking about what a freak show it will be with like drag queens and gay guys and lesbians all over each other. They are all going to one of the really big parties,” he tells Joe who nods along. Joe’s probably been to clubs like that before, Nick realizes. He’s probably seen boys dancing together at some club in LA.
“And several of my roommates are going to some party tomorrow too, after the parade.” Dale had even convinced Andrew to come along. Nick had overheard Dale selling it to him, telling him that it would be a great shot at Ellie. No competition, lots of booze. However that would go down, it couldn’t be any more awkward than the way he behaved around her currently.
“What, do you want to go? You should.”
“I’m not twenty-one.”
“Yeah, okay. That’s not an excuse. You know you could get in.”
Probably, he thinks. He knows other young interns go out and party. Traumatizing incident at lunch the other week aside, everyone acts like it’s pretty easy to do.
“Maybe.”
“But that’s not really what you want to talk about…”
He’s not sure exactly what point he is trying to make. It’s not about the clubs and guys dancing together, and the spectacle of the event, though he is curious. Actually, what he really wants to talk about is the other aspects of the Pride Week celebrations that he has become aware of.
Dale has been working to organize a Sunday picnic at the church he goes to. It’s for gay couples and their kids and gay kids and their families. All this week, he has been working with a couple of guys Nick’s parents’ age. They have kids in their teens that they brag about. It’s all so normal, like any other family. He’s never thought of gay people like that. In fact, he has probably built up the negative stereotypes in his head in order to rationalize why he can’t be gay himself.
He peers at Joe through the screen. He’s a whole other set of issues. Gay or not, this thing about Joe is a different level of fucked up. He honestly isn’t sure if he’s gay or just obsessed with Joe. It’s always been a part of him, for a long as he can remember Joe invaded his dreams, stole his attention, and poisoned his other relationships. Does he fail with all his girlfriends-his beautiful, famous girlfriends-because he’s queer or is it something even darker? It’s a question that has hung over him for years.
“No. Actually, I wanted to tell you about this crazy letter we got in the office today. It was written by a prisoner on death row in Texas,” he says. Apparently he is running a campaign of distraction as well as a presidential campaign.
Joe looks thrown, then disappointed. “Sure, man. Tell me about it, I have a few until I have to head to sound check.”
Nick goes into a story about the letter, but his mind is a million miles away. He has suddenly come to a resolution. He’s going to figure out the answer to this question about himself. There has never been a more ideal opportunity.
******
Dale is clearly shocked when Nick mentions that he is going to go out with him and the other roommates tomorrow night. He hadn’t evened bothered to try and invite Nick along to any of the events. But he quickly recovers his game face, and he seems truly delighted that Nick wants to come clubbing with them. He just has one concern.
“What are you going to wear? I’ve only seen you in suits or plaid shirts with khakis,” he looks Nick up and down. If he is assessing Nick to see if his clothes will fit then it’s a completely futile act. He’s a head taller than Nick and runway model thin.
Nick supposes he will be going shopping tomorrow…this whole affair already seems like a bad idea.
******
Cobalt is a club in DC’s Dupont Circle. It’s close to where he lives, but he decides to take a cab anyway because even at night the city is a hot swamp. He misses the dry, hot days and cold nights in Dallas and LA. When he arrives with plans to meet with his roommates, who have been out all day at the parade and after parties, he encounters a huge line.
In movies, celebrities and socialites always walk to the front of the line and are let in with a sly head nod. He’s not going to try it, but he is pretty sure the chances of that working for him here are slim. He suddenly has an image of the intern from lunch trying to convince the bouncer to let him in by flashing his Congressional Intern badge and laughs to himself.
He’s interrupted by calls from farther up the line.
“Nick! Hey Nick! Over here.” It’s Ellie in a tiny, shiny dress motioning him towards the front of the line. He shoots apologetic looks at the people he is cutting in front of and moves up to stand with them.
“Damn! I can’t believe you really came. I owe you a drink Dale,” she sighs. Andrew is conspicuous in his absence.
“And he even dressed the part,” Dale enthuses. He does think he looks pretty hot. Not over the top or flamboyant like a lot of guys in the crowd. He’s in dark blue skinny jeans and a tight, deep-cut v-neck shirt.
“You have a great ass, by the way,” Dale adds nonchalantly.
“Uh, thanks. I don’t get a lot of compliments that are screamed hysterically at me.” Dale gives him a weird look but doesn’t comment. They are moving up in line now, and Nick is suddenly worried about being carded. Ellie must notice because she turns to him.
“No worries. Just be cool, pay the cover. No one will card a guy that looks like you at a gay club.” She’s spot on, and they clear the door no problem.
It’s insane inside. Just so many people, so many partially dressed people. It’s dark, hot, and louder than a concert. The lights could probably cause seizures. Ellie screams to him that they are going to get drinks. He has no idea how anyone could mange to order anything over the pounding music. Plus he can’t even see a bar. She grabs his hand and Dale grabs hers and they work their way across the dance floor as a group.
At first, Nick thinks the bartenders are naked, wearing only gold glitter. But as one turns away he glimpses the tiny gold shorts. These guys are insanely good looking and he finds himself straining to look at them all. Most look half-hard in their shorts. His bordering-on-creepy staring is cut off by Ellie shoving a tiny glass at him.
“Shots!” she cheers. This is a bad idea. He’s never had more than a few sips of wine in his whole life. He peers back at the bartenders, their amazing asses covered by gold cloth. Then he clinks glasses with her and drinks. She hands him another.
******
He’s pressed against so many people on the dance floor, he has no idea whose hands are touching him or where Ellie and Dale have disappeared to. They’ve been at the club for quite a while; though he has no clear idea what time it is or how many drinks he’s had. He’s just really hot and really happy. Everything seems easy and loose. He’s pressed up to the back of some guy, resting his forehead in between random guy’s shoulder blades as he grinds back into Nick.
It had been horribly awkward at first. They had taken the shots and then dragged him toward the dance floor. He’d had no idea what to do with himself and the alcohol had made him simultaneously dizzy and nauseous. He was anxious about how it would affect his levels. He was stiff and uncomfortable. But somewhere between several (or more) drinks, the loud music, and the crush of naked flesh he’d found a rhythm.
The guy in front of him is getting more aggressive, grinding back into him. And then Nick realizes that he’s not only turned on, but he really has to pee. It’s a sudden realization and he stumbles from the dance floor to find a bathroom. It’s not until he’s out of the crowd and trying to walk that he realizes how unsteady he is. He runs into people who don’t even notice and tries to shake his head clear. He seems to wander forever until he finally finds a bathroom.
The bathroom is huge and dark. There are stalls, but also couches and little alcoves. While people had seemed to be unrestrained on the dance floor, it is a completely different level in here. He stares openly at a man pressed to the wall towards the back. Another guy is on his knees in front of him. He should leave. Or go the bathroom. But he doesn’t. He reaches down and rubs his cock through his tight jeans. And another hand covers his.
The guy behind him is smaller than he is. His smaller hand squeezes Nick’s aching cock, and he presses his mouth to Nick’s neck. He nuzzles his face there. Nick knows he should stop this. That even though he came tonight to discover this about himself, doing something like this is way too far. He turns to tell the guy to stop, and freezes at what he sees.
He’s small and slender with chocolate eyes and dark straight hair that hangs down in his face. In the dim room, with all the alcohol in his system, Nick sees Joe. An 18 or 19-year-old Joe. The Joe that fed his early teenage fantasies. He knows that it’s not Joe, but he also knows that he won’t be stopping this now.
The guy doesn’t give his name; he doesn’t say anything, but he does press his mouth to Nick’s. He kisses him open-mouthed and sloppy. It only lasts a moment before he goes back to mouthing Nick’s neck. Nick places his hands on the guy’s small waist and pulls him in. They grind against each other and Nick is so chubbed up in his tight jeans that it’s almost painful. He groans and the guy looks up at him and pulls away. He takes Nick’s hand and tugs him toward one of the stalls.
This is crazy. He knows it’s absolutely unbelievable that he is in this situation, but he can’t pull away. The guy locks the door to the stall and leans against it; he pulls Nick back to him and moans in his ear.
“Fuck,” he breathes to Nick. “You have a pretty huge dick, babe.” He does all right, he thinks.
The Joe look-alike reaches down and traces the zipper of his jeans before unbuttoning them. He slides his small, tan hand into Nick’s briefs and wraps his fingers around him. Nick’s cock jumps in his palm, and the boy laughs breathily. He pushes Nick’s jeans down and strokes him. He spreads all the wet at the tip of Nick’s cock up the shaft.
“Mmmm. You should fuck me,” he whispers. And Nick almost comes. He can’t believe someone just said that to him. While he’s pretty sure some of his former girlfriends have thought it (probably more in the context of “why won’t you fuck me?”), no one has ever said anything even close to that to him. And he wants to do it too.
The dark-haired boy clearly sees his approval of this plan because he unbuttons his jeans and turns around to face the door. He braces his left hand on the stall door. As Nick watches, he pushes his jeans down his round ass and slides a finger down the cleft. He straightens for a moment, and Nick realizes that he’s reaching for something in his pocket. He hands Nick a condom and tears open a little packet with his teeth before turning back towards the door.
Nick stares down at the condom.
Holy shit.
He tears it open with considerable difficulty and looks back in time to watch the little brunette slide a wet finger inside his ass. Nick gasps and the guy moans and pushes back towards him.
“Fuck me.”
He fumbles the condom and finally gets it rolled down his dick. He’s praying instinct is going to kick in here.
He can’t quite get it at first. He’s pressing forward, holding his dick, but he can’t get in. The guy groans and reaches back to help him. And then he’s inside this stranger, this gorgeous, nameless boy who’s thrusting his ass back onto him. It’s both more and less than he imagined it would be. It feels good, better than jerking off. Better than fooling around with his exes. But it’s also detached. He’s lightheaded and confused about where he even is. He’s mumbling Joe’s name as he gets more frantic.
He doesn’t last long. He thrusts erratically into the hot, tight heat and comes. He never even touches the other boy’s dick. He slips out of him and watches as the brunette jerks himself off.
They wipe their hands off on toilet paper, and the guy kisses him again and opens the door.
Nick really needs to find Ellie and Dale. He’s ready to go home.
******
Nick comes awake suddenly. He doesn’t open his eyes or move, but he’s awake. And he feels like shit. He’s lying face down on his bed, and he presses his pounding head into the mattress. He’s thirstier than he’s ever been in his life, and his levels are probably fucked.
What the hell did I do last night?
Oh God.
With a surge of panic, he recalls the club (vaguely). He doesn’t remember how he got home or if he ever found Ellie and Dale, but he does remember the main event. That guy in the bathroom, he thinks, that little Joe look-alike with the amazing ass…
He lost his virginity in a bathroom!
With someone he will never know the name of! He can’t breathe. What the hell do you do after something like that? He’s going to need one of those home-STD kits [i] that he once heard Miley talking about.
He might be hyperventilating. Someone shakes his shoulder and he freezes like he was slapped in the face.
“Nick! Nicky, are you okay? It’s just a dream, bud.”
He turns his head and blinks his eyes open. God it’s so bright, he might go blind. And there, lying in bed next to him is Joe.
For one terrified moment, he thinks that he had somehow found another Joe look-alike and brought him home. But this is the real deal. Joe smiles at him and pulls him into a laying down hug.
“Nick, you smell like vodka,” Joe mutters into his brother’s hair. He looks Nick over. “And you’re still dressed.
Nick groans in response. Joe is delighted. He hugs Nick tighter. Next.
[i]This is real! Idek… http://getstdtested.com/at-home-std-tests-2
Red, White, and Rainbow
Gay Pride Week is apparently a big deal in DC. Even the young Republicans club that is his office is buzzing about the parties they want to attend. He knows that they have a huge celebration in Los Angeles with a parade and parties (and even in Dallas some type of celebration happens) but the majority of his past summer time has been spent either on a stage or on a tour bus so he has never actually seen a Pride celebration. The interns in his office are mostly interested in
1. Witnessing what they consider to be a novelty freak show, and
2. Getting really drunk at what are rumored to be some of the best parties at the best clubs in the District.
At his apartment, however, it is a whole different scene. In the few weeks they have been in DC, Roommate Dale has somehow managed to become a major player in the organization of Pride Week. And he’s recruiting. The two girls in the apartment are his adoring lackeys and every night when he gets home some type of serious conference is going on among twenty-ish random strangers. By the time there are about two weeks to go until the festivities start, he gives up on the apartment entirely and starts taking advantage of the extended summer hours at the Smithsonians.
Still, he’s genuinely, if silently, really interested to see what this is going to be like. And though he has never talked about anything like this with anyone, he brings it up with Joe while they are skyping Friday afternoon (he has to see his expression for big discussions like this). Joe looks tired but excited. It’s his last show of the summer and he’s in New York.
The image of Joe is sitting in front of him, legs crossed on top of a hotel bed. He is resting his elbows on his knees and leaning into his laptop. If they we’re together he would be pushing into Nick’s space, maybe putting a hand on Nick’s knee as he leans in for what he can tell is a serious Nick conversation.
“Everyone in the office is talking about what a freak show it will be with like drag queens and gay guys and lesbians all over each other. They are all going to one of the really big parties,” he tells Joe who nods along. Joe’s probably been to clubs like that before, Nick realizes. He’s probably seen boys dancing together at some club in LA.
“And several of my roommates are going to some party tomorrow too, after the parade.” Dale had even convinced Andrew to come along. Nick had overheard Dale selling it to him, telling him that it would be a great shot at Ellie. No competition, lots of booze. However that would go down, it couldn’t be any more awkward than the way he behaved around her currently.
“What, do you want to go? You should.”
“I’m not twenty-one.”
“Yeah, okay. That’s not an excuse. You know you could get in.”
Probably, he thinks. He knows other young interns go out and party. Traumatizing incident at lunch the other week aside, everyone acts like it’s pretty easy to do.
“Maybe.”
“But that’s not really what you want to talk about…”
He’s not sure exactly what point he is trying to make. It’s not about the clubs and guys dancing together, and the spectacle of the event, though he is curious. Actually, what he really wants to talk about is the other aspects of the Pride Week celebrations that he has become aware of.
Dale has been working to organize a Sunday picnic at the church he goes to. It’s for gay couples and their kids and gay kids and their families. All this week, he has been working with a couple of guys Nick’s parents’ age. They have kids in their teens that they brag about. It’s all so normal, like any other family. He’s never thought of gay people like that. In fact, he has probably built up the negative stereotypes in his head in order to rationalize why he can’t be gay himself.
He peers at Joe through the screen. He’s a whole other set of issues. Gay or not, this thing about Joe is a different level of fucked up. He honestly isn’t sure if he’s gay or just obsessed with Joe. It’s always been a part of him, for a long as he can remember Joe invaded his dreams, stole his attention, and poisoned his other relationships. Does he fail with all his girlfriends-his beautiful, famous girlfriends-because he’s queer or is it something even darker? It’s a question that has hung over him for years.
“No. Actually, I wanted to tell you about this crazy letter we got in the office today. It was written by a prisoner on death row in Texas,” he says. Apparently he is running a campaign of distraction as well as a presidential campaign.
Joe looks thrown, then disappointed. “Sure, man. Tell me about it, I have a few until I have to head to sound check.”
Nick goes into a story about the letter, but his mind is a million miles away. He has suddenly come to a resolution. He’s going to figure out the answer to this question about himself. There has never been a more ideal opportunity.
******
Dale is clearly shocked when Nick mentions that he is going to go out with him and the other roommates tomorrow night. He hadn’t evened bothered to try and invite Nick along to any of the events. But he quickly recovers his game face, and he seems truly delighted that Nick wants to come clubbing with them. He just has one concern.
“What are you going to wear? I’ve only seen you in suits or plaid shirts with khakis,” he looks Nick up and down. If he is assessing Nick to see if his clothes will fit then it’s a completely futile act. He’s a head taller than Nick and runway model thin.
Nick supposes he will be going shopping tomorrow…this whole affair already seems like a bad idea.
******
Cobalt is a club in DC’s Dupont Circle. It’s close to where he lives, but he decides to take a cab anyway because even at night the city is a hot swamp. He misses the dry, hot days and cold nights in Dallas and LA. When he arrives with plans to meet with his roommates, who have been out all day at the parade and after parties, he encounters a huge line.
In movies, celebrities and socialites always walk to the front of the line and are let in with a sly head nod. He’s not going to try it, but he is pretty sure the chances of that working for him here are slim. He suddenly has an image of the intern from lunch trying to convince the bouncer to let him in by flashing his Congressional Intern badge and laughs to himself.
He’s interrupted by calls from farther up the line.
“Nick! Hey Nick! Over here.” It’s Ellie in a tiny, shiny dress motioning him towards the front of the line. He shoots apologetic looks at the people he is cutting in front of and moves up to stand with them.
“Damn! I can’t believe you really came. I owe you a drink Dale,” she sighs. Andrew is conspicuous in his absence.
“And he even dressed the part,” Dale enthuses. He does think he looks pretty hot. Not over the top or flamboyant like a lot of guys in the crowd. He’s in dark blue skinny jeans and a tight, deep-cut v-neck shirt.
“You have a great ass, by the way,” Dale adds nonchalantly.
“Uh, thanks. I don’t get a lot of compliments that are screamed hysterically at me.” Dale gives him a weird look but doesn’t comment. They are moving up in line now, and Nick is suddenly worried about being carded. Ellie must notice because she turns to him.
“No worries. Just be cool, pay the cover. No one will card a guy that looks like you at a gay club.” She’s spot on, and they clear the door no problem.
It’s insane inside. Just so many people, so many partially dressed people. It’s dark, hot, and louder than a concert. The lights could probably cause seizures. Ellie screams to him that they are going to get drinks. He has no idea how anyone could mange to order anything over the pounding music. Plus he can’t even see a bar. She grabs his hand and Dale grabs hers and they work their way across the dance floor as a group.
At first, Nick thinks the bartenders are naked, wearing only gold glitter. But as one turns away he glimpses the tiny gold shorts. These guys are insanely good looking and he finds himself straining to look at them all. Most look half-hard in their shorts. His bordering-on-creepy staring is cut off by Ellie shoving a tiny glass at him.
“Shots!” she cheers. This is a bad idea. He’s never had more than a few sips of wine in his whole life. He peers back at the bartenders, their amazing asses covered by gold cloth. Then he clinks glasses with her and drinks. She hands him another.
******
He’s pressed against so many people on the dance floor, he has no idea whose hands are touching him or where Ellie and Dale have disappeared to. They’ve been at the club for quite a while; though he has no clear idea what time it is or how many drinks he’s had. He’s just really hot and really happy. Everything seems easy and loose. He’s pressed up to the back of some guy, resting his forehead in between random guy’s shoulder blades as he grinds back into Nick.
It had been horribly awkward at first. They had taken the shots and then dragged him toward the dance floor. He’d had no idea what to do with himself and the alcohol had made him simultaneously dizzy and nauseous. He was anxious about how it would affect his levels. He was stiff and uncomfortable. But somewhere between several (or more) drinks, the loud music, and the crush of naked flesh he’d found a rhythm.
The guy in front of him is getting more aggressive, grinding back into him. And then Nick realizes that he’s not only turned on, but he really has to pee. It’s a sudden realization and he stumbles from the dance floor to find a bathroom. It’s not until he’s out of the crowd and trying to walk that he realizes how unsteady he is. He runs into people who don’t even notice and tries to shake his head clear. He seems to wander forever until he finally finds a bathroom.
The bathroom is huge and dark. There are stalls, but also couches and little alcoves. While people had seemed to be unrestrained on the dance floor, it is a completely different level in here. He stares openly at a man pressed to the wall towards the back. Another guy is on his knees in front of him. He should leave. Or go the bathroom. But he doesn’t. He reaches down and rubs his cock through his tight jeans. And another hand covers his.
The guy behind him is smaller than he is. His smaller hand squeezes Nick’s aching cock, and he presses his mouth to Nick’s neck. He nuzzles his face there. Nick knows he should stop this. That even though he came tonight to discover this about himself, doing something like this is way too far. He turns to tell the guy to stop, and freezes at what he sees.
He’s small and slender with chocolate eyes and dark straight hair that hangs down in his face. In the dim room, with all the alcohol in his system, Nick sees Joe. An 18 or 19-year-old Joe. The Joe that fed his early teenage fantasies. He knows that it’s not Joe, but he also knows that he won’t be stopping this now.
The guy doesn’t give his name; he doesn’t say anything, but he does press his mouth to Nick’s. He kisses him open-mouthed and sloppy. It only lasts a moment before he goes back to mouthing Nick’s neck. Nick places his hands on the guy’s small waist and pulls him in. They grind against each other and Nick is so chubbed up in his tight jeans that it’s almost painful. He groans and the guy looks up at him and pulls away. He takes Nick’s hand and tugs him toward one of the stalls.
This is crazy. He knows it’s absolutely unbelievable that he is in this situation, but he can’t pull away. The guy locks the door to the stall and leans against it; he pulls Nick back to him and moans in his ear.
“Fuck,” he breathes to Nick. “You have a pretty huge dick, babe.” He does all right, he thinks.
The Joe look-alike reaches down and traces the zipper of his jeans before unbuttoning them. He slides his small, tan hand into Nick’s briefs and wraps his fingers around him. Nick’s cock jumps in his palm, and the boy laughs breathily. He pushes Nick’s jeans down and strokes him. He spreads all the wet at the tip of Nick’s cock up the shaft.
“Mmmm. You should fuck me,” he whispers. And Nick almost comes. He can’t believe someone just said that to him. While he’s pretty sure some of his former girlfriends have thought it (probably more in the context of “why won’t you fuck me?”), no one has ever said anything even close to that to him. And he wants to do it too.
The dark-haired boy clearly sees his approval of this plan because he unbuttons his jeans and turns around to face the door. He braces his left hand on the stall door. As Nick watches, he pushes his jeans down his round ass and slides a finger down the cleft. He straightens for a moment, and Nick realizes that he’s reaching for something in his pocket. He hands Nick a condom and tears open a little packet with his teeth before turning back towards the door.
Nick stares down at the condom.
Holy shit.
He tears it open with considerable difficulty and looks back in time to watch the little brunette slide a wet finger inside his ass. Nick gasps and the guy moans and pushes back towards him.
“Fuck me.”
He fumbles the condom and finally gets it rolled down his dick. He’s praying instinct is going to kick in here.
He can’t quite get it at first. He’s pressing forward, holding his dick, but he can’t get in. The guy groans and reaches back to help him. And then he’s inside this stranger, this gorgeous, nameless boy who’s thrusting his ass back onto him. It’s both more and less than he imagined it would be. It feels good, better than jerking off. Better than fooling around with his exes. But it’s also detached. He’s lightheaded and confused about where he even is. He’s mumbling Joe’s name as he gets more frantic.
He doesn’t last long. He thrusts erratically into the hot, tight heat and comes. He never even touches the other boy’s dick. He slips out of him and watches as the brunette jerks himself off.
They wipe their hands off on toilet paper, and the guy kisses him again and opens the door.
Nick really needs to find Ellie and Dale. He’s ready to go home.
******
Nick comes awake suddenly. He doesn’t open his eyes or move, but he’s awake. And he feels like shit. He’s lying face down on his bed, and he presses his pounding head into the mattress. He’s thirstier than he’s ever been in his life, and his levels are probably fucked.
What the hell did I do last night?
Oh God.
With a surge of panic, he recalls the club (vaguely). He doesn’t remember how he got home or if he ever found Ellie and Dale, but he does remember the main event. That guy in the bathroom, he thinks, that little Joe look-alike with the amazing ass…
He lost his virginity in a bathroom!
With someone he will never know the name of! He can’t breathe. What the hell do you do after something like that? He’s going to need one of those home-STD kits [i] that he once heard Miley talking about.
He might be hyperventilating. Someone shakes his shoulder and he freezes like he was slapped in the face.
“Nick! Nicky, are you okay? It’s just a dream, bud.”
He turns his head and blinks his eyes open. God it’s so bright, he might go blind. And there, lying in bed next to him is Joe.
For one terrified moment, he thinks that he had somehow found another Joe look-alike and brought him home. But this is the real deal. Joe smiles at him and pulls him into a laying down hug.
“Nick, you smell like vodka,” Joe mutters into his brother’s hair. He looks Nick over. “And you’re still dressed.
Nick groans in response. Joe is delighted. He hugs Nick tighter. Next.
[i]This is real! Idek… http://getstdtested.com/at-home-std-tests-2