Page 216 of Phobia

I have the weekend off.

Most people would probably be excited by something like that.

Not me.

I need my job to keep my body active, and my mind conscious. Usually, I prefer to work third shift.

For whatever reason, humans are programmed to be diurnal. Active during the day and asleep at night. That’s what’s considerednormal.

People who work the third shift have to rewire their internal clocks to stay up overnight. But they still sleep during the day.

I don’t.Or at least… I really don’twantto.

Working third shift, then coming home to the sounds of people going about their daytime business helps me push it away. The urge to fall…

Unfortunately, that isn’t an option right now, and I don’t even have Lena around to focus on.

I called the bar where she works, to see if they’ve heard from her at all, and they haven’t. They seemed much less concerned than I am, which doesn’t surprise me.

Lena’s been known to vanish on occasion. Some might call thembenders… I prefer to think of it more like small, super unhealthy vacations.

It’s fine. She’s fine.

I’m sure she’ll come back. She always does.

In the meantime, I need to focus on staying awake, and without work, I seem to have fallen into a disturbing new habit.

I can’t stop watching the new kid next door.

The past two nights, I’ve been peeping into his bedroom, studying his features and his movements, and that odd behavior where he stands in front of the mirror and talks to himself. I wish I knew what he was doing.

Whatever it is, it has to be less creepy than watching a half-naked stranger through his window.So… who am I to judge?

My body is running on fumes and excessive amounts of Adderall as I park my ass on my bed, and watch the kid. With my heavy lids pried open by the fight of my awareness, and what’s essentially legal speed in my bloodstream, I try to imagine what his voice sounds like.

I think it’s probably deep, and smooth. In my mind, he sounds like a singer, or a radio DJ.

I even come up with dialogue for him, and narrate it myself.

“I’m so oblivious. La la la,” I murmur, imitating what I think he sounds like. “I don’t even notice that I’m standing in front of a window in my undies, and any fucking weirdos could be watching me right now. Or maybe, Ilikeit… Maybe Iwantsomeone to watch me. ‘Cause even if he’s straight, how could he resist someone who looks likeme? I’m so hot, with my broad shoulders and my curved pecs, and that v-shape in my pelvis that leads right down into my sexy little man-panties…”

Rolling my lip between my teeth, I admire the way his butt looks in those things. They have some symbols or designs on them, but I obviously can’t make it out from here. Still, between his round ass, and the distinct shape of him in the front, I’m getting more and more carried away by the second.

“Strutting around my bedroom in my undies issomuch more satisfying when I know my neighbor is watching me,” I hum, reaching out to touch the glass with my finger. “Maybe I should invite him over for ice cream and movies… And maybe he’ll strip down tohisunderwear too, and we can just… see where things go.”

My dick is aching at the thought. I can’t even believe how invested I am in this right now. Wondering about my new neighbor, looking at him with lustful curiosity.

It’s not that I think being gay is wrong, or bad. I know it isn’t. But I’ve never done this before… I’ve never watched gay porn, or looked at naked dudes, wishing I could touch them. But something about the way this kid looks is really stirring up a craving to push myself further.

It still makes me nervous. My heart isracing, and my palms are sweating, but my eyes are wide, and my dick isso hard.

It meanssomething. It has to.

What would I do if I was in there with him…?

Would we… kiss? Would we touch each other? Would he take my hand and stuff it inside his underwear?

Is that what he would want? Is that whatIwant??