(This was my first time writing and guy-guy stuff I think. I feel like the mood I was going for was largely inspired by Michael Turner's Pornographer's Poem, which is a great book and if you have my copy I want it back)
Keith had been chasing Amy for months - she was a barista at his local coffee shop and he'd been smitten from the moment he saw her. They got along well and he was pretty sure she was interested in him. She'd learned his order quickly, and learned to anticipate when he'd change it up. They'd only get to talk for maybe a minute at a time, hellos turning into quick banter. Keith stopped getting his coffee to go and started hanging out in the shop for a while, getting a few extra minutes between customers to chat. They both had a penchant for books, for bad sci-fi, for cats. Their chatting turned, in Keith's mind anyhow, into gentle flirting. No boyfriends were ever mentioned, but they weren't not mentioned. Keith had been single for a while. He'd decided to get his shit together after his last breakup. He started going to the gym, walked or biked instead of drove, and, generally, sort of tried harder. He'd been on a few Tinder dates, but his heart just wasn't in them anymore; a lot of build up to a lot of disappointment. With Amy he felt a certain kinship.
Unexpectedly, Amy stopped him one day on his way out. It was near the end of the summer, it was hot and the weather forecast said rain all weekend. The bell on the door had just jingled when Amy said, "Wait hey, Keith, hold on." She came out from behind the counter and stood between him and the open door. "Are you doing anything this weekend? I just downloaded the full Battlestar Galactica series and I had a couple days off and was going to just binge it, you know? But you'd said you'd never seen it either so I thought maybe you'd like to come over and watch some of it with me?"
Keith turned red. "Well, yeah for sure that sounds great."
Amy touched his shoulder, "Great! I'll text you my address. Give me a shout before you come over and give me a chance to clean up."
"Perfect, yeah I'll see you then," he said, still a little in shock. The door nearly hit him in the face after he let it go. He was watching Amy walk back to the counter.
**
Friday dragged on and on. Keith had a hard time sleeping that night. He was imagining all the ways seeing Amy could go wrong tomorrow. He was filled with a nervous excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. He wanted to jerk off, but he was picturing Amy's lips around his cock and he didn't want to waste anything in case his fantasy came true. He knew it was crazy. How many times had he talked himself up when meeting a girl only to be disappointed?
He threw off his blanket and breathed deeply and slowly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the image of Amy's lips wrapped around his cock out of his mind.
**
On Saturday morning Keith wondered how early was too early to text Amy to come over. At what point would he seem like a crazy person?
He went to her coffeeshop, where she wasn't working. He grabbed his usual, a large with a splash of cream, and a large with milk, which he knew was how she took it. Throwing caution to the wind, he sent her a text. If he was waking her up, he'd have coffee, at least, as an apology.
Screwing up his courage, he sent the text.
He waited.
And sipped his coffee.
Finally his phone buzzed. Amy told him to come on over - she'd been up since 6, a bad habit from working early mornings. Keith looked at the sky. The clouds were starting to roll in and the 11 am light had taken an odd, gloomy cast. He picked up his pace, and went to Amy's apartment.
He didn't make it in time - the clouds opened up just as he was reaching her block. He could hear the rain coming from down the street, chasing him. He ran the last few houses and scampered up to her front porch.
Amy lived on the top floor of a house - he rang the doorbell, '3', and waited. He could feel someone coming down the stairs of the old house, heard the sound of a lock clicking. The door swung open and Amy opened the door.
"Oh my god you're soaked! When did this even start? I'm so sorry!"
"Hi," Keith said sheepishly. His hair hung limp over his face, "I'm so sorry, I'm going to make a mess of your place."
"You'll be fine - it's nothing fancy up there, believe me." Then, noticing the two coffees, "Keith, you sweetheart, you shouldn't have." She took it from him and lead him upstairs, "You can take your shoes off when we get up there - I don't have anything that would fit you, but I can lend you a towel to dry off?"
"That'd be perfect, thank," Keith said. The old stairs creaked. When they reached the top landing, Keith breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't see any guy's shoes laying around. Why would she invite him over if she had a live-in boyfriend anyhow? Keith knew he was being an idiot, he just couldn't help it. Amy appeared with a towel and helped pat him dry.
"TV's just over in the next room through the kitchen. And sorry it's so hot in here, our AC is connected to the other units and I don't think they feel the heat."
Keith took a moment to look Amy over - she was wearing cut off blue jean shorts and a white tank top. Her bra, black, was peeking through.
Keith knew Amy caught him staring - he couldn't help it. She smiled, "Come on, I've got it's all queued up on my computer." Coffee in one hand she beckoned Keith with the other.
Amy's living room was compact - Keith saw a bathroom through one door, and a bedroom through another. The couch dominated the space - a rough L-shape, Amy sat in the corner and Keith sat next to her. She hit play, and Battlestar Galactica started up.
**
They had watched a couple of episodes, Keith realized he wasn't really paying attention to the shows; his full attention was focussed on Amy. He could feel her next to him - the heat of her leg gentle resting against his. Their coffees were done, and the third episode was wrapping up.