Page 6
Story: Gamer's Choice
Butterflies erupted in my stomach whenever I pictured the younger man. All day and through my meeting, Neko popped up in my thoughts often.
And even at that moment, my mind flashed an image of him in the light pink hoodie he’d worn the day before. The sleeves draped past his wrists as his long, thin fingers played with the cuffs. There was a pattern I recognized as he continued the rhythm throughout the night. His actions so ingrained, his fingers moved without conscious intention. But his hands fascinated me and I failed to tamp down the sudden desire to feel them on my skin.
The pink material hung off his body, the color complimenting his pale skin tone. It emphasized his narrow torso, which fueled my imagination, picturing what was underneath. Would his chest have hair? Are his nipples pink or brown? What would he do if I slid his black tights down his legs, exposing him to my view, before I touched him everywhere?
I was taller and more muscular than the younger man. But I didn’t make the mistake of judging him weaker. I caught the easy effort in which he took the stairs and how hard he’d gripped my forearm, leaving behind the ghost of his touch when he released me. But his size compared to mine,fuck, was a turn on.
Never had I looked at a woman and fantasized tossing them onto a flat surface or pinning them to a wall and fucking into them with deliberate movements. I’d never lost my head during sex. My control reined in, because while I wanted my partner’s pleasure, desire never overtook reason.
With Neko, those possibilities flashed images that left me wanting. I’d never hurt him, but the fantasies of using his strength along with mine as we lost ourselves in overwhelming sensations, made my body pulse with need. Would he let me pick him up and hold him close as I devoured his mouth with my own?
And thoseconstant thoughts were the crux of the problem.
I believed I was straight. Shouldn’t I have known before of my attraction to men? But then again, when have I ever met anyone as beautiful and as funny as Neko?
With the questions swirling in my mind, I closed down the video chat and admitting to myself my curiosity peaked, pulled up Neko’s videos. I sorted them by date and remembered Neko saying he dated the bastard for six months, about three years back. I clicked on one from that timeline and jerked in my chair when I traced over Neko’s face on my screen.
He was gaunt, dark circles under his eyes, his complexion sallow. But what made me growl aloud was how every noise made him flinch, as though he expected an attack at any moment.
As he relaxed into the game, a loud pounding on the door echoed, and his entire body shook with fear. I wanted nothing more than to protect him. Behind him, the door burst open and an angry man, older than Neko, turned his rage toward him.
A hand clamped down on Neko’s throat and squeezed hard enough for the younger man to cry out in pain and pull back, trying to escape the painful grip. My blood boiled as the man yanked him out of his chair.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Neko stayed silent while I simmered in rage. Through Neko’s fear, he held eye contact with the man.
“I told you to be ready for dinner fifteen fucking minutes ago. And where are you, up here playing your stupid video games again? I’m sick of your shit, Neko. Go get showered and dressed. You’re not fucking up another night for me like you always do.”
It was then I spotted colorful flashing to the right of the screen. Although there were a lot of words, I caught the gist. Neko streamed the video live and his viewers were shouting they were calling the police.
My eyes didn’t leave the screen as I followed Neko’s reaction to the man who hurt him. When he let go of his neck, I felt a sense of relief, but it was short-lived. When Neko dropped into his gaming chair and rubbed at his throat, the man reared back and punched him. Neko’s head snapped back and wrenched in a way that sickened me. And the sound so loud, time stopped as I sucked in a breath, vibrating in anger.
A cry of fury on screen was faint before a tall, elegant woman with dark hair tied in a bun flew into the room with an aluminum baseball bat and landed a blow right on the man’s knee. The crack as it met bone was audible, but a cry of pain drowned out any sound as he dropped to the ground and curled in a fetal position.
“How fucking dare you, you fucking lump of shit? I told you what would happen if you ever laid a finger on him.” She pointed at his face, her own red and fierce.
“Echo?”
Neko’s timid voice, sounding damaged and hollow, broke my heart. I heard sirens as Echo stepped over the writhing pile of shit and seized her friend in a hug so tight; relief swamped me for the first time since the stream started.
There was a flurry of police activity as they stormed into the room, but they froze when the downed man screeched at them.
“Arrest this bitch, she fucking hit me with a baseball bat.”
“Ma’am is that true?”
“She was protecting me. He… hit me, punched me in the face after… my neck.” Neko slid down the collar of his sweater, exposing his long, delicate neck, where he displayed a bruise darkening a sickly red splotchy color in the distinct shape of fingers. “I have it all recorded and my chat witnessed it.”
“Yeah, we received a flood of emergency calls about this situation. I’ll review everything at the station…” The cop nodded at Neko.
Before I heard anything else, I shot out of my chair and down the stairs before I hesitated and stared down at what I was wearing. A button-down and a tie along with a ragged pair of sweats. Rushing to my bedroom, I shed everything, even changing my boxer-briefs, before I dressed in a pair of jeans and a pullover. After almost falling on my ass jumping up and down on one foot, I sat down and noticed my hands shook as I slipped on my socks and shoes.
Reaching for my wallet, cell, and keys, I locked up and then sprinted across my yard, hopped the row of bushes that separated our lots, and was breathless by the time I reached his door.
After a deep, cleansing inhale, I knocked on his door with a restraint I didn’t feel.
Neko opened it with a wide smile on his face. “Graham, I was thinking—”
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