Page 101 of Built To Perform

“If you’re quite finished eye-fucking each other,” Adam interjected, dryly. He sounded more amused than annoyed, though.

Brayden reached out, grabbing Adam’s arm and pulling him closer. I saw the momentary - instinctive, most likely - attempt at resistance, my roommate tensing briefly, and how little difference it made.

“You’re cute when you dress up,” Brayden observed. If his scan of Adam’s body before had been casual, this time around it was intense enough to set off radiation detectors.

“I’m sure you say that to all the boys.”

Brayden’s grin was immune to the sarcasm. “Only the very cute ones. Anyway, I’m generally trying to get them out of their clothes. But you know that already, don’t you.”

Adam sighed. “Oh, well, don’t I feel special, then.”

“You should.” Brayden licked his lips.

I glanced over to the bed, where Clay was giving me a look that said “get a load of these two,” or whatever the Korean equivalent might be. I rolled my eyes.

“I hope you’re not planning on keeping him out too late,” I warned Brayden, trying to make myself sound fatherly.

He winked at me. “I’ll make sure he lets you know if he decides to stay over.”

“So presumptuous,” Adam scolded, though there was a hint of a smile there, too.

Brayden leaned down, lips close to his ear. What exactly he whispered wasn’t clear, but the scorched blush across Adam’s cheeks after it was unmistakable.

“W-we should... uh... go,” he stuttered out.

I tried to avoid looking at Clay, because I already knew it’d only take one glance and the two of us would be laughing uncontrollably. In the ongoing battle between Brayden and my roommate, it seemed the wrestler had scored an early lead. All the same, Adam was sharp enough to draw blood: if anyone was going to hold his own against the confident senior, it was him.

“Oh, Jefferson said if you’re bored you should go over, lil bro.” Brayden flashed a smile at Clay. “Open invitation. You might want to take your sketchpad, though I’m not sure they’ll be scenes suitable for the calendar.”

You didn’t need to be a mind reader to understand what was going through Clay’s brain when he licked his lips.

“Thanks,” I told Brayden, then turned my attention to an antsy-looking Adam. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The look I got back spoke volumes. “A short list, then.”

There didn’t seem much point protesting. Adam had heard most of my tales; hell, I’d been inside him while recounting a fair few of them.

“Just know that I’m expecting all the details when you get back,” I warned.

Brayden’s arm landed heavily around Adam’s shoulders. They made an intriguing-looking couple; I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be the first person that night who’d be imagining them together.

“I’ll make sure he brings you home some good stories, lil bro.”

Adam’s cat-who-got-the-cream expression was unmistakable.

“Don’t wait up,” he teased.

I thought about Jefferson at his condo, and the open-invitation to Clay - who, whether observer or participant, always brought something entertaining to the party - and what my own evening might hold. With ingredients that promising, not knowing the final recipe was no great hardship. If there was one thing college life had taught me, it was that experimentation could be its own reward.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I said, with a wink. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do with myself.”

The End