Most of the time the group lived vicariously through Chance or when they caught up every few months or so from a phone call with Matt. He hadn’t been out to visit in a couple of years. His modeling career was going great, which still surprised Oliver—not that Matt was doing well but his career choice. He couldn’t remember the last time Matt mentioned music, but he guessed people changed. Their dreams changed too. Most people weren’t stuck in the past the way Oliver was.
“So, the guy?” Miles prompted, speaking over the music. Oliver looked up just as Chance turned to face them, smiling as a guy stuffed money into the back of his underwear. His dyed-blond hair hung in his face in a way Oliver would think was sexy as hell if it wasn’t Chance. Miles and Chance had never been anything but the best of friends to him. One couldn’t afford to be attracted to more than one of his friends and that had been reserved for Matt.
“Hello? Earth to Oliver.” Miles snapped his fingers in front of Oliver’s face.
Oh yeah. The guy. He shrugged. “The guy is a guy. I don’t know. It’s only been a few weeks.”
“A few weeks is longer than most of your relationships.” Miles finished his drink and leaned back against the half-circle booth, putting his arm around Oliver.
“I’m not sure I’d call it a relationship.” They’d hung out a couple of times was all. “His laugh drives me batshit crazy, and he does it all the time. He obsessively chuckles at everything. He has this fucking…gurgly-rumble thing at the end of his laugh like he has phlegm in his throat. Jesus, is it possible to have mucus in your throat all the time?”
Oliver looked over at Miles, who frowned at him then cocked his head. As he did, Oliver’s words ran through his head again and the duo burst out laughing.
“Do you hear yourself?” Miles asked, obviously amused by Oliver.
“Yes! Shut up. It’s gross.” Was it too much to ask to find a man without phlegm? They were in LA, for crying out loud. There were beautiful, smart men around him all the time and he ended up with a guy who gargled snot when he laughed.
“What about when he gives head?” Miles asked, still laughing. “Now that would bother me. Mucus and cock don’t go hand in hand.”
Oliver leaned back in his seat, clutching his stomach, he laughed so hard. “Jesus, now I’m not even going to get a blowjob out of the deal because I’ll be afraid he’s going to spit his phlegm on my dick.”
“What’s so funny?” Chance plopped onto the seat beside Miles. It must be his rotation off, which meant he’d get to sit a few songs out. His skin glistened with sweat from having danced so much. The eyeliner around his eyes ran slightly, and the light glinted off the glitter on his face.
“Wait? You haven’t gotten head from him yet?” Miles asked Oliver before his eyes traveled in Chance’s direction. “He’s making up reasons to dislike the new guy, and apparently they haven’t even gotten to the sucking stage yet.”
“Really?” Chance asked just as Oliver said, “I’m not making anything up, and I’m going out with the guy tomorrow night. If he doesn’t sound like he has pneumonia when he laughs, I’ll let him suck my dick. Are you guys happy now?”
“I’m hoping you’ll be the one who’s happy after getting your dick sucked. Been a while for you.” Chance grabbed Oliver’s cup and finished the drink in it.
“Thanks. I wasn’t drinking that or anything,” Oliver told him, and Chance kissed the air toward him. His friends drove him crazy, but he loved them.
He knew the men were partially giving him shit, but at the same time, they didn’t really get it either. Sometimes Oliver didn’t get it. It wasn’t as if he never got horny. It wasn’t that he didn’t want sex. He just didn’t like sticking his dick in random men—or having random men’s dicks in him. Was that so weird? To not want random hookups or to use apps to make human connections? Sometimes he felt like he was in a different universe from most of the people he knew.
“You look mad. I didn’t mean to piss you off. I’m just being real.” Miles raised a brow at him, and Oliver nodded because he got it. He’d known Miles his whole life. The man wasn’t going to change. He would always tell it like it was.
“He’s not so bad besides the laugh. He’s having me over to his place tomorrow night. Cooking me dinner.” Eddie was a nice enough guy. Oliver liked him…all right. He just wasn’t sure he could like him for longer than a few more weeks. He couldn’t help it if he was particular about who he spent his time with.