Eddie Munson
FOR THE GAYS! (ALL PEOPLE ARE 18+)
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He’d been doing it since he was little — since before he really knew what he was doing at all. And once he started, he didn’t know how to stop.
It was completely innocent, back in the day. Just a way to entertain himself when the dark of the night got too scary or the sounds of his parents screaming down the hall got too loud. First, it was his blanket, balled up and stuffed between his legs. Then it was a pillow, tucked beneath his hips as he lay on his stomach, that good-sweet-funny feeling building slowly in his gut as he rocked, and rocked, and rocked. And for a long time, that was all it was: comfort, plain and simple. A distraction from a home that was anything but. A sorely needed dose of dopamine.
But then he’d gone to live with Wayne, and puberty turned his little habit into something dirtier, sending him to the bathroom on a daily basis to take care of whatever ill-timed erection was currently plaguing him, dick leaking like a facet so that he knew for sure that there was something deeply wrong with him. Because there was no way a person was supposed to make that much precome.
Whoever thought locker rooms were a good idea had clearly never been a teenage boy. At least, they had never been a queer teenage boy. And they certainly hadn’t been a closeted one, as Eddie was, forced to hide himself behind shower curtains because the sight of other wet boys parading around with their blooming bodies on display had him bricked up faster than a garden wall. The shower drain caught a lot of his shame.
Which is why, on a Thursday evening in early September, Eddie found himself shifting on the couch, unable to look away from the little bit of heaven that was you, Eddie tried to shove his attention back toward the campaign notebook on his lap, he really did, but every soft sniff or slight shuffle from your direction pulled his gaze, which of course meant he was going to take a quick peek.
Eddie:”So…what’s in the magazine?”