Chapter 2

2

Words swim. Fragments, confusion—which is how it goes with my word recognition deficit. Basically, shit gets confusing. And it's worse when I try to read fast.

Use your strategies , D. Don't panic.

Okay, I can do this. I'm already in this far. And… wow.

There are cocks .

Cock s .

Two of them.

And at least one of them is leaking pre-cum.

I swallow hard. I did not expect this.

Okay, I need to orient myself in the text. And I need to do it fast, before Rory comes back and sees that I'm totally invading his privacy.

I search for names. Oliver . And down the page, Leo . It's Leo who's telling the story. The setting is Oliver's room—a college dorm, I think—Leo's heart is pounding as Oliver…

Ohhh fuck.

Oliver reaches for Leo's dick, giving him a slow, gut-tightening, heart-thumping stroke.

Rory's reading about two dudes together . Not just a quick plot point, either. This is detailed . It's specific. It's hot . There's foreskin .

Hell yeah, props to us uncut guys, by the way.

But Rory's reading… this . No electromagnetic radiation.

This.

I glance back toward the lavatory. My heart is thumping against my ribcage, my fingers tightening on his reader. Is this something he normally reads? Does it… mean anything? I'm not sure that reading about two dudes going at it means anything specific about him. People are a lot more nuanced than whatever they choose to read. He could be reading this for all sorts of different reasons. But…

It's just… Okay, well. I have a thought. Stay with me.

So, about three weeks ago, we were studying for this nightmare chemistry class I have, and I was making silly jokes about protons and neutrons, and our stomachs hurt from laughing. And there was this moment . His hand brushed my thigh, and his laugh faded. The light from my bedside table glared across his glasses, but behind that I swear his eyes moved down to my lips, and there was this hanging pause where everything felt so clear, the colors more vibrant, the scent of the mint tea I'd made stronger. Like life had doubled-down on the realness.

Then he jumped away, scrambling off my bed, our books tumbling, notes going everywhere, and shit…

I mean, maybe he wasn't looking at my mouth?

Maybe I'm reading into things?

I just don't know .

I don't know if he's into guys. Is it weird that in three years, he's never said one way or the other? I'm openly bisexual and have dated both guys and girls casually. But I've never known him to date anyone. I've never noticed him even looking at anyone. Maybe he's asexual? But…

Now he's reading this. And yeah, people are more nuanced, but I keep thinking about that moment. Does it all tie together somehow?

I take a steadying breath, and I turn back to the reader. I skim for action verbs and nouns, pulling them out of the muddle. Groan, shiver, pulse, quake. Then… dock .

Dick? No, it's definitely "dock."

That word stands out, practically highlighted on the page.

Docking .

I've got a… vague idea? I've heard that term before. And?—

Shit. I glance back, my intuition sparking, and sure enough, Rory's stepping out of the lavatory.

I flip the cover closed and toss his reader on his seat. My pits are sweating, my fingers shaking. I'm kinda turned on too, my dick half-hard and cramped uncomfortably in my jeans. It's not just about what was happening with Oliver and Leo and foreskin, but the fact that Rory was sitting right next to me, reading this .

I don't have time to fully digest the situation before he slips back into his seat, wiggling to get comfortable, swiping his hair back from his forehead and then tucking his reader into his lap.

I stare at the seat in front of me. Don't eyeball him . I feel like I'm frothing at the mouth or something. Maybe I am .

"D?" Rory pushes up his glasses with his index finger. "Are you okay?"

"Um…"

Docking .

He was reading about docking. I need to know what that is. What it exactly is. Like pictures and diagrams. Charts and schematics. What are those 3D shoebox things we used to make in first grade?

Dioramas.

I want a diorama of docking.

"D?" Rory's looking worried now, that wrinkle between his brows deepening, and the only thing I can think about is… he was reading that. And it was hot. It was so hot.

And… did he almost kiss me?

What if he wanted to?

He's still looking at me. His skin looks so warm, the sun sliding across his chest and lighting up the bottom of his chin, that one freckle I like so much.

My fingers are twitchy, my feet restless on the thin airplane carpet, and a fold in my jeans is pressing uncomfortably against the inside of my thigh. I'm feeling self-conscious. Or maybe just aware of myself, my body. Every follicle of hair lifting on my forearm. Every slight bump of turbulence.

I scrub at the side of my neck, trying to look at ease. "Do you think we're almost there?"

Shit, my voice sounds weird.

He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest and pushing back into the seat. "Probably about halfway?"

"Fuck," I mumble.

He flips open the case to his reader, and my eyeballs nearly fall out of my head.

He's going to read ?

About docking.

Docking, docking.

DOCKING.

What is it? What are Leo and Oliver doing ? There are too many thoughts in my brain.

I can't sit here and watch him read. I need something to distract?—

"Hey, it's my friend's birthday." Carter's voice bellows over the entire plane.

Oh, thank fuck .

Carter's about to do something obnoxious, which is a usual occurrence. He's standing in the aisle, grinning, hazel eyes glowing. "Think we could all sing to him? His name's Theo!"

Theo laughs, shaking his head.

This is Carter. It's not Theo's birthday. It's just Carter.

But somehow, luckily for me, Carter gets the entire plane to sing Happy Birthday . Rory joins in, and Theo's laughing so hard his eyes are watering and his face turns red, which is a good thing because he hasn't been smiling much lately. He's been going through some shit.

But I can't hardly focus on any of it as the whole plane sings. I do, too.

I think?

I honestly don't know. I'm doing one thing on the outside and another on the inside.

And I know that I probably shouldn't be reacting so strongly to Rory and Oliver and Leo and docking and cocks and foreskin. But I am .

I can't seem to turn it off.

Rory's eyes crinkle as he sings, his freckles blooming over his cheeks. He looks so happy.

He says something to me, leaning in, his hand settling on my forearm, his fingers pressed lightly against my skin. He's touching me .

Oh god, he's touching me.

My stomach flexes against the waistband of my jeans, and I'm thinking all these thoughts, but one rises to the top. The one that's been repeating since we first got on this plane.

One last trip. It's all over after this.

Everything is about to change.

Holy wombats, Clua is beautiful.

Two and a half hours later, we're standing at the edge of the world.

The ocean is spread out before us, only lit by the moon. The sand is cool under our feet, and the air smells sweet, like plumeria, although I haven't seen any yet. But I definitely smell it.

We're here , standing quietly on the beach, inhaling it all in, before Carter bellows out, "Did I tell you about this place or what ?" He punches Theo in the shoulder.

Rory is next to me. He stares thoughtfully at the waves, his glasses and reader stored in the bag he dropped somewhere behind us. In the moonlight, his hair is a deep, coppery red. He swipes his fingers through it, his wrist bending. It's too dark to see that knobby rise of his bone, but I'm picturing it.

Jesus, I keep picturing it more and more since the plane.

I don't fully know what happened for the rest of the flight. He read some more. I sat there, about to explode. Or implode. Probably both. I mentally scoured through every mention of docking that's ever occurred in my life. I couldn't eat my fruit and cheese plate without almost choking on it. I asked Rory about what he was reading again, and he told me more about electromagnetic radiation.

He lied to me. I mean, it's not really a lie . That sounds dramatic for the situation. But he hid the truth.

Why ?

"The ocean's so tremendous," Rory says softly. He's still staring out at the waves, and I'm really curious about what he's thinking. About what he sees. About how he feels about being here, the four of us, for this trip.

"Pretty fucking big," I say. I should say something more intelligent, but that's the only thing which comes out.

He scans the horizon. "One can calculate the actual size. The ocean's about a hundred and thirty-nine million square miles in total. But it's so much . Can you imagine how tiny we are in comparison?"

No, I can't. Not right now, at least. I just keep looking at him, his hair in the moonlight, his chest and slim biceps, his slender stature. I've always been into guys like Rory. Hell, I was into Rory when I first met him, sitting in that study group with Carter and Theo our freshman year. All of Rory's notes were carefully annotated in such a cute way, and he always said interesting things. I liked him. But he didn't seem interested in me that way, so I shrugged it off. I wasn't going to pressure him. And then we became friends, and I love being friends with Rory. I put myself into that friendship one-hundred percent.

He glances over at me. "You're staring at me, D."

"I am?" Shit. "I was just thinking about something."

"What?"

I shrug. Normal . Be normal. "Uh… The plane ride was good. And the ferry… it docked well. I mean, it was a really solid docking."

Yes, I just said that.

His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise in them. "I… guess so?"

What am I hoping for here? That he suddenly bursts with a random docking explanation? Although, that sounds like something Rory might do.

I inwardly groan. I need to get my brain settled again.

Rory and I are friends. Him reading about docking doesn't change that.

Rory licks his lips, a tiny swipe of his tongue. His mouth opens, like he's going to say something. His skin is practically glowing in the moonlight, kisses of freckles on his nose and cheeks.

He's so pretty .

Fuck, he's so pretty. I've always thought so, but I'd turned the thought off. And now it's back. And it's louder than it's ever been.

It's our last trip . So if there's anything I want to do—want to talk about, want to put out there, want to say before we go our separate ways—I need to do it soon.

A wave reaches us, frothing over our toes.

He reaches down to cup a handful of water, then in one fluid motion, he tosses the water at me. Droplets flicker in the moonlight as they arc and land on my shirt.

I blink down at where the water hit me, and when I look up, he's grinning at me expectantly.

My smile grows. "Oh, you're in for it now, summa cum laude."

He giggles, backstepping. "Only if you catch me."

Oh shit .

My bare feet slap on the wet sand as I snatch a handful of water and then launch it at him. He laughs, ducking away.

Soon, we're shin deep in the waves. It's cold without the sun, and Rory twists around me. He gets me in the back before he sprints up the shore.

I toss a huge handful after him, and he shrieks as it hits him.

We run. Full speed down the beach. Rory's fast . He moves around me, dodging me, making me think I need to spend a lot more time on cardio at the gym. And he laughs, so damn energetic.

I don't see it all that often. He's usually working on all those theories in his head. But right now, he's playful. Easy. I kinda feel like I give him that—the ability to get out of his head and just have fun.

Another wave rolls in, bigger this time, swirling around my thighs, and I dart up to where he's now standing, a few feet out of the waves.

"Fuck, that's cold." I'm shivering a little, my arms crossing over my chest. The bottom half of my jeans are sopping wet and heavy. I can't wait to get out of them and into boardshorts, which is the only thing I'm going to wear for the next five days.

"It feels good." He pushes back his hair, damp now, and it sweeps off his forehead. His gray eyes settle on me. "But you didn't catch me, D."

My heart pounds out a beat. That tickle in my stomach is back.

Is he teasing? Am I supposed to say something playful back?

I lick salt water off my lips. "Want to go for round?—"

"Heyyyy, guys." Carter jogs over to us. He's soaking wet. Both he and Theo are. They must have gone fully into the water, and now they're shivering like hell. "We're freezing. We've gotta get to the room. Are you coming?"

"Yeah, come on, D." Rory grins at me before he takes off up the beach, toward our bags. "Race me."

Fuck. I stare after him, his shorts plastered to his thighs as he sprints up the sand. I can't… What am I doing ?

Carter slaps me on the shoulder with a thwack . "Go, dude, you're losing."

I know .