Horny as Fuck but I Don't Want Anybody
"Look at those abs," Tyson whistles, checking himself out in the mirror.
"Fuck"
"Sexyy!"
He grins as he inspects his sides, lifting his shirt up higher. Rei huffs through his two hundred push ups challenge behind him.
"Ninety three!" he struggles to say as he pushes off the floor again, muscles straining, the colour of his face almost purple.
Tyson lets his shirt drop, turning. "Last seven!" he shouts encouragingly, clapping twice as he saunters toward him.
Max flings his bag of potato chips aside and runs to support Rei.
"One ninety five!"
"One ninety six!"
They count with him in the sweaty gym hall. Their voices loud and excited.
"One ninety seven!"
"Last three!" Max bounces on the balls of his feet in excitement as Tyson squats down beside his friend.
"If you make it I'll get myself laid tonight," he vows.
Rei grits his teeth. Ninety eight. "You're getting laid tonight, Tyson," he swears.
"Then push it!" he yells.
"Ninety nine!" Max rakes his fingers through his hair. "Oh my god, Rei, the last one!"
"One more!"
It takes everything in him, but he musters up enough strength to raise his body off the ground for one more time.
The boys explode into screams. "Two fucking hundreeeed!"
"You're a legend, Rei!"
They share one incredibly sweaty hug.
"Tyson, you're getting laid!"
They stare with blatant desire in their gazes.
Eddie nearly drools as he traces the curve of a petite waist.
Michael forgets Emily when a dancer dips backward, her spine curling beautifully.
Rick has stars in his eyes, his mouth hanging open.
The ballerinas twirl in unison, hair flying, ponytails swinging.
Tyson drops his phone on the bench he's resting his feet on. His favourite of the group, the one in the center of the formation, a graceful brunette with caramel highlights in her loose hair, lands a flawless spin and jump combo, shoes cracking against the floor.
They are all lost, off in their fantasy worlds, by the time the performance ends and the ballet teacher tells them the show is over. "That's it for today, you pervs. Don't you have something better to do?" They feign innocence as the teacher gives them a nasty glare. The dancers pack up and leave, along with the instructor.
Tyson cards a hand through his hair, sighing. "Ah, fuck," he rubs his face.
"The frustration" Rick grumbles, shaking off his lust induced stupor.
Michael buries his head guiltily in his lap, grinning sideways sheepishly at Tyson. "I did it again. If Emily catches me here, I'm dead."
Eddie finally comes back to reality and looks around at his friends. "Jesus fuck, you guys. Those dancers." He shudders. "They're some kinds of witches. Sexy witches. I swear they cast a spell on me."
Tyson sits back against the bench. "I need to get laid."
"Dude, yes!" Eddie slaps his knee. "How many years has it been since you last hooked up with someone?"
"Hey! The Mariah thing happened eight months ago!" he defends.
"You're keeping count of the months huh?" Michael judges him.
Tyson cracks his neck, ignoring the question.
"Let's go out tonight," Rick proposes. "Get smashed. I've had enough of this week already."
"You in?" Eddie nudges Tyson.
He nods. "Yeah, sure."
"I mean you're dying anyway, you might as well make the most of the last few days of your life."
Tyson rolls his eyes, then gets up with a scoff. "Kai ain't shit."
"You're not scared of him, but you'd be wise to do so," Eddie shoots as they all collect themselves off the benches and make their way out of the dance practice room after him.
"I'll shoot myself in the face first."
It doesn't work. Tyson goes to the club with his friends. He drinks and dances. But he cannot pick anyone up. He tries his damnedest, yet no matter how hard, he finds it unnatural to hook up with a stranger.
He's the dating type. But not the type to date around. He likes to build bonds. Form an actual connection with the person before getting close to them physically. It's love first sex second for him.
And he cannot reverse the order.
It's simply the way he's wired.
Eddie gets consumed by the crowd on the dance floor. Michael drinks himself to oblivion because he has no control once he touches alcohol. And Rick. Rick picks up two girls before ten minutes are up.
Tyson takes shot after shot.
Eddie declares his failure.
Michael passes out.
Rick bitches as he has to say goodbye to the girls and drive all the drunk losers home.
The night is one full of wasted opportunities.
"You're a monk."
"There's only one explanation. He's forgotten what a pussy feels like."
Tyson grumbles as Eddie and Rick stand on either side of him and talk shit, trapping him between them like a sandwich of horny sophomores.
"God, what was her name? Lucy? Or Luce? She was so hot. Tyson, I'm disappointed in you. You couldn't even talk to her properly," says Eddie.
"I'm not the type, man. My brain doesn't work like that."
"Right. We need to take you to see a therapist," remarks Rick.
"I'm fine."
"Mariah broke you."
"I-" He groans loudly in frustration. These two are going to be the death of him.
"Hush hush hush, stop being unattractive, red-head at three o'clock," Eddie signals to the side with his chin. They're leaning against the metal fencing around campus, people-watching if someone asks but chick-fishing in truth. His friends figured since he can't get laid like a normal person, he would have to date. They're helping him choose a girl right now.
What great friends. Not.
Motherfuckers just want to ogle girls while using him as an excuse.
Tyson follows Eddie's gaze and sees a cute red head with curly hair and bangs, walking with her friend chatting about something.
"That's Mathilda from first year. Psychology major. Just your type."
He shoots Rick a side eye. "And what's my type?"
"You like the ones with unusual hair. Emily was a red head and Mariah a pink head. You like coloured heads."
"I don't have a thing for coloured heads, Rick. The fuck? And not that one," he says, looking back at the girl they'd pointed out.
"Why not?"
"Too many freckles."
"How about her?" Eddie gestures to a tall girl with a longish face, wearing a short plaid skirt. She looks...intimidating.
"No"
"Why?"
"Just no."
This goes on for another twenty minutes. Rick and Eddie trying to match him up with someone in the courtyard. Tyson feels his interest waning with each minute. It's hopeless, he thinks. This is not how he's supposed to meet someone. Yes, he wants to get laid but not like this. Not with someone he actively sought out. He wants it to happen naturally. Like a late night tumble with someone he knows from class or something. Someone he hangs out with occasionally.
Like...
Like...
God, there's no one.
Tyson blows a breath. He spots Kai walking out of the building opposite them alone and wonders where his posse is. He's oddly dressed up, Tyson notes. He has a nice black, half-sleeved shirt and ripped jeans on. Tats on his right arm on full display. A pair of sunglasses hanging from the top of his buttons. The first two are undone. Tyson can see the milky skin of his upper chest.
Tyson's eyes follow him across the courtyard, and Eddie catches him. "What the fuck? You're staring at him? We're trying so hard to find you a nice girl and you're-" he stops when he realizes Tyson's not listening.
"Why is he all dressed up?" he asks instead.
"On his way to pick up girls in his Porsche," comments Rick.
"Dude doesn't even have to try," Eddie laments beside Tyson. "He doesn't need the Balenciaga. He's on a mission."
"To ruin Tyson."
"Haha. Tyson's so dead. You're defo on his shitlist. Number one priority I bet."
"Can you guys shut up?" asks Tyson, hating on Kai in his head. Here he is, struggling to get laid, while Kai goes to bed with a different woman every night.
"Must be nice to be him," muses Eddie.
Halfway across the courtyard, Julia, the city's IT girl, catches up with Kai. They stand and talk in the middle of the campus, looking like a couple that had stepped out of a magazine. The sight of them together makes Tyson's expression sour. Julia, like Kai, came from foreign nobility. Her roots in Spain where his is Russian. They know each other because their families' social circles often overlapped. Julia is pretty much the female counterpart of Kai in their campus. Every guy in their university have had at least one wet dream about her. Tyson himself had a small, fleeting crush on her back when he first joined and caught sight of her walking across the lawn a couple of days after orientation. It died when he realized she was way out of his league. And one year senior to him. Same as Kai and the rest of the Blitzkriegs.
Tyson watches Kai pull out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and open it, saying something to Julia. Her long platinum hair shifts in the breeze as she waits on him. He takes a card and returns his wallet to the pocket, drawing his phone out from the one in the front. Kai punches in something on his phone with one hand, referring to the card in the other. Julia stands beside him and combs fingers through locks of her hair as he makes a call.
"She's like Cleopatra."
"Cleopatra couldn't compare."
Tyson hears his friends stalking about the pair and decides it's time for all of them to leave.
"Let's go. There's no fish in the sea today. Let's come back tomorrow."
Rick grunts in agreement. Eddie skips over to him and loops an arm around his neck. "Now you're thinking like me," he says excitedly.
Tyson's racing against time to finish his assignments before midnight when there comes a knock on the door. He nearly knocks down the chair when it tangles with his leg on his way to answer it.
When the door swings open, he finds Hilary waiting outside. A woolen scarf around her shoulders to keep herself warm. And a red nose.
She's been crying, he observes.
But she looks...clear-eyed.
Tyson's fingers fall off the knob as he stares at her. Hilary takes slow steps toward him. When she cannot walk any closer, she winds her arms around his torso and buries her face into his chest.
He kisses the top of her head as they walk back into the room. And the door closes.
"You were right."
"I was."
"I don't know I feel like I've been asleep these last two weeks."
"He has that brain-numbing effect on people. I've felt it too."
Hilary looks at him with a frown. She's sitting up on the bed. He's lying down on his side, head propped on an elbow as he gazes up at her.
"What do you mean?"
Tyson shrugs. "He wears too much cologne. How can you not go brain dead?"
Hilary rolls her eyes, brushing her shoulder-length hair behind her. "I can't believe I acted so stupid. I was about to get my period too so there's that. You know how I am during that time."
"Wait what?" Tyson sits up halfway in horror. "You had sex with him while you were-"
"No!" she nearly screams. Then dissolves into giggles. "I meant on the staircase."
"Oh thank god." He lies back down, a hand on his chest.
"I got it right after." She fiddles with her hair again. "I was completely out of my mind. Completely humiliated myself. I didn't listen to you. Or Emily. I was caught up in all the lies he spoke to me."
"Son of a bitch."
"I'm so sorry. You don't understand how bad I feel, Tyson. I feel so bad I said all those things to you. And for not listening to you. And shouting at you."
"Hey, hey" he draws her down into a hug. "It's fine. It's fine. Happens to the best of us. You were in love with him."
"I'm glad he said what he said to me on the stairs." She straightens to look him in the eye. "I was looking at him through rose-tinted glasses and I couldn't see all the flaws he has."
Tyson cups her face in his hands. "What did he say to you?"
She blinks. "When?"
"In bed"
Her mouth makes an 'o' shape. "I don't-" Hilary draws away from his hands and pulls herself upright. "I don't want to think about that. I'm trying to forget him. It's counterproductive to revisit that."
Tyson considers her quietly. Then nods. "Right. Wise."
"Why do you wanna know?" Hilary teases him suddenly.
He grins dismissively. "To add some of his moves to my artillery. My game's been bad lately."
Hilary laughs. "You've been single for so long you're almost virginal now."
Tyson fake wrestles with her on the bed.
"Should I call Emily?" he asks her after a while. "Let's throw you a little victory party." he suggests.
Hilary's eyes light up. "Do it!"