The Proposal

by GMartinez

Chapter 2

Hypotheticals

Colin is still plagued by confusing thoughts after his classmate Michael offered to give him a blowjob. The next day, Colin tries to see if he can get some insight from his friends.


The next day, my best friend Espen and I were having lunch and talking about things that I didn't really care about. What Michael said to me in the locker room was still buzzing around in my head, though, so I really couldn't help myself but ask my best friend what he thought about it all. Discreetly, that is.

"Espen, what's your read on Michael?"

"Michael Greyson?" Espen replied with a raised brow.

"Yeah."

"I thought he graduated last year?"

"No! No, I mean the other one! The one we have!"

"Oh . . . you mean Michael O. Greyson. Be more specific next time," Espen replied like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"—Okay, okay, I got it! I'm sorry I couldn't specify which among the only two people ever named Michael Greyson I was talking about! Can you we focus here, Espen?"

I wanted to ask him what he knew about Michael. I was careful about how I asked, though. Espen may be my best bud, but I felt like it would be kind of awkward to ask him about a guy if he knew the guy in question was offering me an orally-administered penile massage.

"I would've thought that you knew him better than me since you're both in the basketball team," Espen began. He bit into his sandwich and then said, "Well, let's see . . . he's charming, that's for sure. He's okay in class and it's not like he's a trouble-maker. He's pretty lively and cheerful. Hangs out a lot with Cho's group of girls, and they hardly ever let guys sit with them. Strangely enough, though, he's never been shipped with anyone. No crushes, no nothing."

"Maybe he's gay . . . ?" I offered meekly. I still feel like I was being disingenuous with Espen, like how you ask someone a hypothetical situation . . . but in reality, the hypothetical situation is a real thing that you really did.

"Actually, there was this one time, I think last year—well, you weren't there because we weren't classmates—we thought Michael was gay," Espen said while stroking his chin.

"How so?" I asked. My curiosity was definitely piqued by what Espen said and I couldn't help but lean closer to him as he continued.

"It was stupid, really. Just 'cuz he didn't seem to like any of the girls—like, like like—someone started saying that he must be gay. Michael was also super bros with this one guy named Dennis—that guy was only here for a year before he moved away. For a while, everyone thought that it was true. Michael just laughed it off, though, and it's not like he got angry or anything. Since he didn't make a big deal out of it, it eventually just kinda died down."

"Hmm . . . I see." So there was a possibility that Michael was gay, a plausible motive behind his earlier offer to me. So, he liked me. Was that it?

"Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't . . . ? Well, it's just that, during practice I . . . well . . . I thought he moved funny." I should probably also mention that I suck at lying.

"Judging a man's gender from the way he handles balls? You're not being sexist now, are you? Tsk-tsk." Espen pretended to put on airs like some old-timey grandma that disapproved of miniskirts.

"What?"

"My dads would be disappointed with you," Espen replied with a sly grin. He always has this way of sounding like he's making fun of you for something.

"I think being friends with a straight guy raised by two gay dads forfeits any right I might have to diss anyone's gender," I said with a smile.

Just then, a commanding voice replied just behind us.

"It's not anyone's right to diss anyone's gender, you dork."

"Oh, hi, Jen," I replied to the newcomer who'd sat down next to me.

Like I said, Jenny Weller is one of my closest friends, and together with Espen, we were the Harry, Ron and Hermione of my school life. Who was which character was up to debate, though. Jen always teases that I'm Hermione. Not that I could ever make a comeback from her constant teasing—having a crush on someone is weird that way.

"Colin Cress, are you becoming a sexist?" Jen asked imperiously. It wasn't serious or anything, but with her fiery personality it's easy to be intimidated.

"No, ma'am." I answered with a good-natured sigh. My banter with her usually ended up with me feeling like I was getting schooled by a strict British tutor.

"Oh, Colly, you're such a pushover!" she laughed as she dropped her previous tone. "I can just imagine you as a little kid—if I was your nanny, you'd constantly lie on the floor and hugging your knees while crying on your teddy bear."

"Aw, Jen, don't be mean to widdle Colly," Espen pitched in. The two of them laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh along with them.

"Man, Jen, don't you think I'm getting too much abuse from your girl-Hitler thing already?"

"I like to think of it more as a cross between Rosa Parks, Oprah Winfrey and an Indominus Rex," Jen replied cheerfully as she helped herself to some spaghetti.

"You got the dinosaur part down perfectly," Espen mumbled through a mouthful of muffin.

"Well, at least I'm a well-mannered dinosaur who doesn't talk while her mouth is full, thank you," Jen replied, making us all laugh again. After a sip of juice she continued, "Espen, serious talk. You really need to stop bothering Lavender."

"What? I'm being real good to Lavie! I'm like the perfect gentleman!"

"Lavie? Geez, I knew you had a crush on her . . . but seriously? Nicknames?" I chided him. It really was a ridiculous nickname.

"Espen, you are the worst person on earth when it comes to being subtle," Jen went on. "She already gets it, okay? You like her. But she doesn't like you back." This was her more serious side talking—absolutely no nonsense.

"Well, I'll just have to prove to her that I like her a lot now, don't I? She'll warm up to me—I just know it," Espen replied with what I thought was a stupidly goofy grin on his face.

"You boys! Idiots, the lot of you. When a woman says 'no' she means NO," Jen said again, sounding rather intimidating.

"A reverse cupid, you are. Don't I deserve a chance?" asked Espen.

"She's not interested and you're just giving her a reason to hate you. If you think about it, you know that I'm right." Jen's tone had softened, and as she finished, she sounded a lot like a mother scolding her young child.

"Pffft. You're always right. Way to ruin my day, Jen," Espen grumbled.

"I'm not ruining your day. In fact, I'm saving your life. Tell me with a straight face what you would do if things do work out for you."

"Well, it would be wicked awesome!" Espen hummed with a dreamy look in his eyes. "I could take her out and we'd see a movie and—"

"Then what? Surely, spending your money on her every weekend isn't your end goal?" Jen was still eating at the table with us, but with her line of questioning I could easily imagine her standing over us with pursed lips and her hands at her hips. Thank god she's not my mom.

"Well . . . " Espen replied hesitantly.

"'Well' what? Aren't you hoping that during a movie date, you can sneak in a kiss on the cheek? Then on the next one you'll do it with tongue? Then after a few more, you'll ask her to come by your place and have sloppy sex on your bed?"

"Whoa, wait, slow down there—"

"Whatever would you do with a girlfriend at this age, Espen? You're fourteen. Marriage? Kids? It's only ever about sex. That's always a boy's endgame."

"Man, when you put it that way . . . "

"She's got a good point there, Espen . . . " I begrudgingly admitted.

I felt like a truck had just run me over. Without actually talking about me, Jen had inadvertently turned me down as well. Was it coincidence that she was looking at me as she finished talking? I've been very careful to not let her know about my true feelings for her. She couldn't have picked up on it, could she?

Espen kept on mumbling as he finished his mashed potatoes and then said, "Alright, fine. You're absolutely right. I guess now I'll just have to go back to my celebrity wank fantasies."

"Ewww, Espen!" Jen and I both exclaimed.

"Hey, to each man his own wank dreams. Not really your jurisdiction if I dream about getting blown by Ellen Page, yeah?"

"Aw, dude, no. You sick fuck," I managed to reply through a hearty laugh. Still, though, this was interesting—he'd just opened up the topic of blowjobs.

"Language!" Espen replied, comically raising a finger and causing us all to laugh again.

"Though, you know, Colin, that's not the weirdest celebrity blowjob fantasy that I've heard of," Jen said after recovering from laughing. "I heard Molly Weisman in the bathroom the other week talking about how she'd so go down on Ty Simpkins. You know, that boy from Jurassic World."

"Why, though? His character just kept looking at his phone. He wouldn't even notice anyone trying to get in his pants," I said. I loved Jurassic World, and I found it slightly disconcerting that we were now talking about its actors in sexual situations.

"No, not the older brother— the younger one!" Jen pointed out.

"Aw, sick. Isn't he just twelve or something?" I don't usually hear about older girls wanting to get it on with younger boys, so I think my surprise was justified.

"Like I said, Colin, to each his or her own. Personally, I wouldn't have minded being blown when I was twelve," Espen replied airily.

"Even by a dude?" I asked, gauging his reaction.

"Ewww, what? Look, despite my parentage, I don't swing that way, 'aight?"

"You sound like you know enough about blowjobs to be disgusted being given one by the wrong gender," I insisted on asking. "So what does a blowjob feel like, huh?"

Jen was just laughing at us now. Unknown to her, though, I was back to using my subtle interrogation techniques. I don't know if Espen ever had any experience about sex or not, but anything that he might say adds to the intel that I needed regarding Michael's . . . proposal.

"I don't know," Espen began awkwardly while scratching his head. "Wet, I guess. Soft. And . . . pleasurable . . . ? Shit, don't look at me like that! Thinking about it is giving me an awkward boner right now."

I was busy laughing, so Jen took that moment to retort in my place. "You do know that the mouth sucking you off can just as easily bite it off, right?"

"Aaaand that killed my boner. Thanks, Jen," Espen said with an exasperated sigh.

"So . . . do you think getting a blowjob would be awesome enough that you wouldn't care who gave it to you?" I asked a little too excitedly.

"Probably? You can just imagine it's Ellen Page," Espen replied.

"Or you can stop being a total perv and wait for someone in your life that you'd be comfortable doing it with, like someone who won't bite it off," said Jen, ever the voice of reason.

There was a short silence as we finished our meals. The conversation escalated just a bit too much, I guess. Well, maybe not for Espen. Nothing fazes him.

Espen drank the last of his soda and then gave his plate a rueful look. "Guys, let's not talk about dicks during lunch anymore, okay? Jen's totally ruined hot dogs for me forever—I can't eat this anymore. Colin, you can have it."

I just stared at the hot dogs that Espen had put on my plate, while a swirl of confusing emotions sloshed around inside my head. I don't think I'll ever eat another hot dog ever again.

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