Gay

He stepped down from the podium trembling with rage. He didn’t want to be alone: he crossed the apartment hallway and pushed open the door to the suite where his two men were already waiting awake for him.

It started as a game in the back row of a theater and became an addiction: finding the city’s most impossible corner to lose control.

He told me to close my eyes in front of the shop window. When I opened them, I knew Hugo wanted to see me turned into something I’d always wanted to be but never dared say out loud.

He went in believing the showers were empty, but the steam concealed someone else. His teammate had not heard him arrive, and he could no longer look away.

I’d been sending him nudges for months with no reply. That morning he answered with two words that had me on my knees before I even opened the door.

They said the blue of his overalls brought him luck. But that night, under the spray and his teammates’ eyes, he learned luck had another name.

When they stepped outside in the pink skirt and bunny ears, they felt every gaze fixed on them. And the toy was still throbbing inside them both.

When he opened the door in his boxers and told me “on your knees, quietly,” I knew the Uber ride across town would be worth it.

I was twenty, home alone, and chatting online. I never imagined that stranger would show up at my door twenty minutes later—or what he would leave burned into me forever.

They had set up the screen, served the cider, and weathered the muttering. Finally alone in the deserted plaza, there was only one thing left to do: go up to the attic.

He’d spent days only seeing him through a screen. When the door finally shut behind us, I knew that night we’d make up for every stolen hour.

When my mother found the stains on my underwear, she thought the worst. She didn’t know Marco wasn’t hurting me: he was helping me stop being afraid of who I am.

I thought the hardest part of coming home would be the banner at the village entrance. I was wrong: the hard part was the dinner table, when we started telling the truth.

He wore an immaculate suit and, underneath it, the lace only Adrián could see. When the office door clicked shut, Noa stopped being the perfect assistant.

He lost his keys in front of the door of the only neighbor everyone had warned him about, and that summer afternoon he decided to find out why there was so much mystery.

He stayed on my sofa for a couple of weeks, polite and distant, until one Sunday afternoon he dropped the line that woke everything we’d buried in those summers.

That night Eneko broke down, so Unai did the only thing he knew would calm him: he took him to the bed where Mikel and Asier were already waiting awake.

I’d gone two weeks without cumming and my imagination played a dirty trick on me in the middle of my shift. What I didn’t expect was for someone to notice before I did.

For months I’d been pretending not to look when he came out of the bathroom in his underwear. That Christmas, alone in the flat, I opened his dirty laundry bag.