'I'm not gay', a mantra that Nathan Gosforth found himself chanting in his head while sitting around a table with a group of college friends at The Stables.
He was, however, very much in touch with his feminine side, but that had only ever helped him when it came to finding a female partner. He grew up in a wealthy neighbourhood without a father and only had the influence of his sister, his mother and whichever hopeful alpha male boy-toy she happened to be spoiling this week or that month.
Nathan was able to very easily switch between masculine and feminine qualities at a moment's notice, adapting to his surroundings, but would not go so far as to identify as non-binary. He always presented outwardly as masculine/male. Was it a defence mechanism? Perhaps, but it always felt to Nathan like it put him very firmly on the front foot in pretty much every situation.
At twenty-four years old, Nathan had spent a lot of time around friends and partners of all gender identities, but had always found himself very much sexually attracted to women. That is exactly why, when Kyle, a mutual but rather recent friend of a friend from their group, let his thigh rest comfortably against Nathan's for longer than it probably should have, he found himself trying to deny how it had made him feel. He felt...butterflies? I guess that was the only way to really describe it. There was a giddiness bubbling inside of him. Outwardly, of course, Nathan was the picture of social engagement. Laughter at his mates' quips and anecdotes. He even chimed in with his own quick-witted comments on their conversation. Inside though? Nathan was DEFINITELY not ok.
Distraction was unnatural for him. Inconvenient even. This man's thigh. Against his thigh? This was the worst kind of distraction. No woman from his past had elicited the level of arousal currently coursing through his veins. Was it the fact that there was a penis attached - by kilometres worth of blood vessels and nerve-endings - to this strong, masculine thigh?
With his next breath, Nathan blinked, turned his head, and locked eyes with Kyle.
Oh no. He caught me looking at him. Smile. No, don't smile. Turn your head.
It was too late. The craters forming at the edges of Kyle's wide charming smile, and the glint in his deep brown eyes gave it all away. This guy would be terrible at poker, Nathan thought to himself. "Should I give you some more space?" Kyle shot a glance down towards his thigh. Nathan felt a distinct lack of warmth as he realised that Kyle was no longer touching him. Kyle returned his gaze, paired with the cheekiest grin. Where Nathan mustered the confidence to pull off this next move, he'd never know. He placed his hand firmly on the inside of Kyle's upper thigh. "I never gave you permission to do that". A stern look on his face, as he dug his fingers into Kyle's abductor longus and lodged the veritable tree trunk solidly back in its rightful place.
Kyle hesitated, then leaned in and pressed his lips right up to Nathan's neck, "Be careful. Someone could see that stupid smile on your face and start talking". He dragged his lips up to Nathan's earlobe, bared his teeth and gently nipped at it. Nathan bit his bottom lip as he felt his pores expand. He felt the shiver down the middle of his back. He felt the tightness of his chinos on his own thigh. Kyle was already sitting up straight again, acting as if nothing had happened. The bastard. "I'm the cool, calm and collected one. That's MY gig." Nathan tried to convince himself.
"You should see how stupid your face looks right now" he retorted, but the intended sting landed with the impact of a raindrop as he felt his own face flush. Kyle was already cracking a joke at Wade's expense. Had Kyle even heard his pathetic remark? Probably not.
His cheeks burned for way longer than he would have liked, but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Nathan tightened the already too firm grip on his whiskey tumbler as Kyle's quickened heartbeat fluttered against the slender fingers of his other hand. He lifted the glass to his ridiculously dry lips, tilted his head back and downed it. At least now the flush in his cheeks could be attributed to the warmth brought on by the hellishly expensive double shot of brown liquid, and not the overwhelming desire for the man sat next to him. Just in case anyone was looking at him.
"Right. Another round, anyone?" Nathan dropped his fist on the table.
