Hector groaned and went to his bedroom instead. He’d just watch TV in there. He sat on the bed with his back braced against the headboard, flipping through the channels for something to watch. Unfortunately, nothing grabbed his attention. Not sports. Not the news. Not comedy. None of the shows drew his interest because he already had something on his mind. Hector bit his lip, trying to ignore the fact that arousal hummed in his blood. He tried. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that night. He could almost hear Miguel’s breathy whispers and his fingers tingled with the urge to slide them back into Miguel’s soft hair. Now he was hard. Screw it. Hector slid down the bed onto his back. He might as well get it out of his system.
He slipped a hand into his shorts, grasping his growing length. His eyes drifted closed as he started to stroke. Miguel’s lips had been so soft as they’d brushed along his neck. And so slick as they’d moved up and down his cock. Hector rubbed his thumb over the crown, remembering Miguel flicking the open slit with his tongue. He pushed his pants down and reached into the nightstand to grab the lube, hurriedly pouring it over his shaft once he had it in hand.
With his cock nice and slick, Hector started stroking himself again. But the memory of his cock in Miguel’s mouth vanished. In its place rose a new image, one that hadn’t actually happened. Miguel, here in this bed with him, on his hands and knees, spine curved as Hector pulled his hair and pushed into him from behind.
Hector groaned and drew a leg up. He hadn’t had that much anal sex in his life. Most of the women he’d been with hadn’t been into it. But he’d liked it when it was made available to him. So he could imagine Miguel hot, tight on his cock. And Miguel was tiny compared to him, so Hector could have a little fun lightly tossing him around. After he’d fucked Miguel to the edge of orgasm, he’d pull out and flip him over onto his back. He’d drape one of Miguel’s legs over his shoulder as he thrust back inside. Then he’d fuck him until they both came.
At that final thought, Hector thrust his hips up, his cock wet and sliding through his fist. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chanted as his balls tightened. He came, making a mess over his hand and torso. When Hector was done, he lay there, feeling guilty as shit for using Miguel in his jerk-off fantasy. What the hell was the matter with him?
He got up and went into the bathroom to clean up. He just needed to get laid. It had been so long since he’d had a date that it took him a while to remember. The last person he’d gone out with was the blonde woman he’d met at the bar he, Ryan, and Clay had gone to after that bank robbery gone bad. That had been a few months ago. No wonder he was so damn horny. Not that that explained his lust for another man. But he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that just yet. Maybe he’d never be ready.
Hector stared at himself in the mirror. Until he decided if that was something he wanted to unpack, he needed to keep his distance from Miguel. He’d already been eyeing Miguel with sexual attraction before their movie night. Going by the images he’d just used to get off, it was clearly worse after what had passed between them. And he didn’t want to muddy their friendship with confusing signals or fall into something that neither of them were ready for.
He didn’t even know why Miguel had given him the blow job. Was it purely attraction? Or had it been a misguided attempt to show his appreciation? Or maybe he’d just been horny. Scary movies were rumored to inspire more than fear. Hector wished he had an answer to that question, but bringing it up to Miguel would violate the pact they’d made to forget about their unexpected night of intimacy and move on.
Regardless of why Miguel had initiated things, they were too close. Some distance between them could help them recalibrate their relationship. Hector grabbed a towel and wiped the cum off his chest. What he needed to do was cut back on the cozy meals and start spending more time away from the apartment. And he was definitely putting an end to movie nights.
***
When Miguel returned home from shopping, Hector wasn’t there. That surprised him. Since he had the truck, he hadn’t expected Hector to leave. When Miguel went into the kitchen to put the groceries up, he saw a note on the fridge. Went for a run. Don’t wait for me to have lunch. Miguel shrugged. Once he finished putting everything away, he made two plates of sandwiches, fruit, and chips. He wrapped Hector’s plate in Saran Wrap and put it in the fridge for later. He took his own lunch to eat in front of the TV.
Miguel finished eating and made it through three episodes of his favorite reality show before he heard keys in the lock. Hector came in, his short hair messy from the wind and his T-shirt damp with sweat. Miguel noticed that the shirt stuck to Hector’s broad chest, outlining his muscles, before he determinedly got his eyes on Hector’s face and kept them there.
“Hey! You’re back. I left food for you in the fridge.”
“Thanks. You already ate, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’ll eat after I get cleaned up.”
Miguel joined Hector in the kitchen once he came out of the shower. “I’ll get your plate.”
“I can get it.”
Miguel waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. Sit down.” Miguel got out the plate he’d prepared and poured a big glass of cold water. “Here you go.” He put the food and drink in front of Hector and sat across from him.
“Thanks,” Hector said before he started eating.
“I got four pairs of scrubs. I should model them for you.”
Hector stopped chewing. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said after swallowing. “Just show me what you bought.”
Miguel’s smile faltered for a moment. Damnit, he’d made Hector uncomfortable with that comment. “Yeah, sure. Let me just get the bags.” Miguel went into the living room to get the bags he’d neatly stacked on the floor next to the couch. Before he went back into the kitchen, he reminded himself that he’d need to watch his behavior until they were truly past the blow job incident.
Early Monday morning, the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing woke Miguel. He sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. Miguel looked over his shoulder into the kitchen and saw Hector sitting down with a bowl of cereal. Leaning over the back of the couch, Miguel called out to him in a voice husky with sleep.
“Hey, what are you doing eating cereal? Give me a few minutes, and I’ll make you breakfast.”
Hector shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”
Miguel let his head loll to the side for a few moments, but then he threw off his blanket. “Nah. That’s okay. Might as well get up.” He went into the guest bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. After a few minutes, he came back out, pulling a T-shirt over his head.
“Do you have to be at work early today?” There was no response. Miguel popped his head through the neck of his T-shirt and looked around the silent apartment. Hector was gone.
Miguel went into the kitchen. A lone bowl and spoon sat in the sink. He stared at it, noting the little bit of milk left in the bottom of the bowl. Miguel tried to tell himself that Hector was a cop and probably needed to get to work early for some cop emergency. Except…he was pretty sure Hector was avoiding him. With a sigh, he rinsed out the bowl. There was nothing he could do about that. He’d just have to wait for Hector to find his equilibrium with him again.
Unfortunately, by the end of the week, the situation hadn’t changed. In fact, it was worse. It hadn’t taken long for Miguel to notice that Hector was being distant. Hector wasn’t cold or unfriendly, but he definitely took pains to keep distance between them. He was away from the apartment a lot more than he used to be. And when he was home, he spent nearly all his time in his bedroom. The closed door was a clear sign he didn’t want to interact with his temporary roommate.