If wishes were horses

Wesley sat at his desk, sloshing the day-old coffee around in his black mug. He was still flying high on... some number of stimulants, but his mood was as low as ever. Mind-numbing grindcore beats assaulted his ears, keeping him from thinking too hard. His cursor blinked mockingly at him. Fucking javascript. There was nothing he wanted to be doing /less/ than writing more shitty, disorganized code for some jackoff Yankee junkie at three o'clock in the morning. Bored and exhausted, he clicked back into Skype. Nihil was still logged off -- reasonably enough; the boy needed sleep, however much Wesley would have liked to be fucking him into next morning. That was neither here nor there. Nihil was offline. Nihil was, in fact, asexual. He was fun to grope, though.

Wesley gnawed on the corner of his phone for a moment and then flipped open Grindr. There were depressingly few whites in the area. "That's the east goddamn coast for you," he thought. He closed Grindr again. He could only look at so many unwashed Mexicans squatting in mirrors to show off their pubic hair before he started to feel a little sick. Well, more sick. He considered whether there was anything left to take that he wasn't already on way too much of. His mind blanked.

He opened Skype again. There was one person online, actually. Nostalgebraist. Rob. He refused to call the guy 'Rob' in his internal monologue. For now he would have to be 'nostalgebraist' -- 'Robert' was hardly better. He'd forgotten that nostalgebraist was even in his skype contacts. Hadn't that dumbass blocked him on tumblr? Probably. Nostalgebraist was a fucking idiot. Less of an idiot than before, possibly due to hanging around with people who could reason their way out of a cardboard box, but still a fucking idiot. "A cuck," he muttered to himself, and almost giggled at the experience of saying it out loud. There was no one around to hear him, but it was still amusing. He looked at the profile picture again. It was a sexy beard, he had to admit. Shame it was wasted on such a... fucking... cuck.

He opened the chat window. Why the hell not, right? He'd fucked stupider guys in college, when every jerkoff who wanted to be assfucked had a bad heroin addiction and a worse addiction to critical theory. He almost vomited thinking about it. At least they had tight, young bodies. If you're going to get fucked by the school system, why not get fucked by a good dick at the same time, right? So nostalgebraist wasn't completely out of the question. He was a prick, but he looked fuckable.

"What are you up to?" he asked. Nostalgebraist is typing. Nostalgebraist is typing. Nostalgebraist stopped typing. Probably caught off guard by my forwardness, Wesley realized. I l l e g i b i l i t y.

Nostalgebraist responded "I'm restarting a simulation that hasn't worked for the past five hours or so." A pause.

"What's the deal?" he asked. Wesley considered, for a moment, how best to respond to that.

"It's late and I'm horny and I'm trying to write some shitty utility in javascript, shitlord language of the earth," he answered. There was a long pause again.

"Okay," nostalgebraist said. It occured to Wesley that the last time they had talked, he had called nostalgebraist a faggot. Hopefully it was true.

"You just got back from seeing Esther, right?" Wesley asked. "You must be all horned up yourself," he added. Subtlety. That was fuckin subtlety, and that was the key to hooking these fucking nerds.

"..."

"does green horse fluids man not have feelings any more", he asked. He realized immediately that this was probably the wrong thing to say. Taking things back in an antagonistic direction.

After a long pause, nostalgebraist's response came: "You know, no offense, but there is a reason that I decided to stop engaging with you before. I don't think this is good for my mental health," he said.

"Wait", Wesley sent. His heart was pounding. Why did he care this fucking much about this conversation?

"what", came the reply.

"I'm just lonely, dude. Fuck. I'm lonely and nihil is in bed and I figured you were probably lonely too," he said. And I want to fuck your goddamn brains out, he thought. But he didn't say that. There was that subtlety bit again.

"We can talk if you want," nostalgebraist said.

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That night, Wesley and Rob (yes, Rob now. It was easier to call him by his name after talking to him a few times) had talked long into the, well, morning. By the time the sun came up, Wesley was talking completely out of his ass about the way that Neon Genesis Evangelion gave people (weeaboos) flawed ideas about the importance of personal virtue in an atomized society. Rob seemed to be lapping it up -- or what Wesley said of it, at least. Maybe it was just tiredness. When dawn came, Rob had to go, and Wesley said goodbye with a completely honest "<3". Rob didn't reciprocate -- fuckin typical, right? -- but it didn't really matter. Wesley looked up picture of him and jacked off better than he had in weeks; maybe years. When he came he was imagining Robert's hard body, sucking his cock, drilling his ass like it had never been drilled before. Rob didn't have much experience with guys, that he knew. Wesley was very skilled at giving people experience with guys.

Theoretically, at least. In this case. Rob was still in California, and Wesley was still in Shitstain, West Virginia. He hated this decaying sucking scumhole of a city even more, now, somehow. He caught himself actually scowling at the slouching gang members who loped by him, something he had never allowed himself to do. He was pissed off. They were keeping him from someone. They were keeping him from Rob's body, Rob's cock, which were way off in San Francisco. Worst coast-- yeah, right.

At night, they talked. Even though Rob seemed suspicious of him at first, even after their first conversation, he seemed to warm to Wesley. In some way or another. He had caught Rob saying "top kek" the other day, and he felt somewhat proud of himself. He was corrupting the guy. Giving him a sense of humor. For his part, Wesley was generously tiptoeing around the topics like the Hugos, or Gamergate, that held a serious risk of turning into an argument. Rob was a cool guy, but he still caught up in the same prog memeplex that swallows every intelligent person with a paucity of sense and then shits them back out again with their whole world fucked over. He didn't want it to happen to Rob, but what the hell could you do? It's not like he was free from it himself. "Hell, every aspect of my behavior is fucked over ten thousand times by my rootlessness, atomization, degenerate sexuality, drug abuse..." his train of thought trailed off. He was rubbing his hard cock inside his jeans, in full view of passersby, if they cared to look. Nobody cared. What a nightmare place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley had contrived, by heavily leaning on his bosses (much harder than he had leaned the last time; this /mattered more/) to get some expenses paid for a trip to San Francisco. City of goddamn sin. Nihil was surprised when he told him.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be able to pull off something like that again soon", nihil said, over facebook messenger. Wesley considered for a moment.

"Turns out I have more sway than I thought. I just showed them my dick and those doors swang right the fuck open", he replied.

"alright", nihil said. Wesley grinned. He would make out with nihil a little, sure. And then his dick would find release in /Rob/, oh Rob, a man he could actually /fuck/. A smart man. Or smart enough, anyway, that he didn't cringe at the idea of ramming his dick into the guy's asshole. That was the problem with the fuckin 'Beast Coast', right there in a nutshell. Nothing but morons.

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"What are you listening to?" Esther asked. Rob giggled a little bit.

"It's a little embarassing. I'm actually listening to this grindcore mix that Wesley did up for me-"

"Wesley!?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, yeah, nydwracu. I've been talking to him lately-- I know he's, uh, kind of a dick, but it's enjoyable having conversations with him. And he recommends me this... very interesting music," he said. She looked at him with some bewilderment, then buried her face in a pillow in front of her.

"Esther?" he asked nervously. He hadn't meant to upset her. He knew that Wesley had been, at best, rather unfair to her in the past. She looked up at him, and he saw that she was laughing.

"Heeheehee. Hehe. I shouldn't be laughing, it's awful. That's really sweet, Rob," she said. He smiled a little.

"You think so?" he said, a little tint of blush creeping onto his face.

"I do. Just don't, heh. Offer him a cupcake," she said, smiling. He laughed.

"I won't. Hehe. When he gets here in March, I'll bake him a big, manly, reactionary chocolate cake," he said. He could feel himself slipping back into the old habit of making fun of Wesley with Esther. It /was/ fun. Wesley was a funny guy-- but it was a little less funny when he imagined him sitting up by himself, as he probably was right now, drinking more liquor than was good for him and trying to tolerate a job that he utterly despised. Rob's face melted into a gentle frown.

"What's wrong?" she asked, still recovering a little bit from her bout of the giggles.

"It's nothing," he said. He wanted to be talking to Wesley again. That would be... easier, somehow. He didn't feel like he had to have a filter between his mouth and his brain, when he was talking to Wesley. He could try to be clever, but he didn't have to... think, if he didn't want to. It was freeing, in a way.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. He nodded.

"I'll be just fine," he said. Unbidden, an image of Wesley's soft features seemed to float before his eyes. Involuntarily, he sighed. Wesley would visit soon.

He had promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're going to visit robnost? Why would you do that," nihil said, his affect flat. Wesley rubbed his hair affectionately.

"I am going to do degenerate things, padawan. That is the Way," he said. Silently, he mourned the fact that this was too bound up with secret facts to be postable online. It fit his Brand.

"You're saying that so I can post it on tumblr. I won't post it on tumblr because fucking robnost doesn't fit your Brand. Why do you want to fuck robnost, why do you think he would be interested, et cetera," nihil said. Wesley smirked self-consciously.

"We've been talking," he said. nihil made a peculiar sort of snorting noise.

"We have not been cybering," Wesley said, with mock dignity. nihil smiled crookedly at him. "You shut up," he said, and nihil did. Instead, he planted a big kiss on Wesley's cheek.

"Hmph," Wesley harrumphed. He returned the favor on nihil's cheek. nihil grinned.

"Go get em, tiger," he said, in a monotone. Wesley cracked a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley knocked on the door. His heart was pounding in his chest, feeling like it was trying to escape through his throat. He waited there was no response.

Then the door opened, and there he stood. Rob. Nostalgebraist. Green horse. The little man with the beard, the wimpy, twinky, noodly, rough-skinned...

"Rob," he said. Rob was... everything.

"Wesley," he said. He took his hand and went inside.

They stood in the kitchen area and talked, but not for long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley tugged at Rob's t-shirt, almost ripping it off.

"Jesus, calm down," he said, but he quickly pulled it off himself. A fine layer of hair covered his chest, and his nipples stood out red and prominent.

"Don't call me Jesus," Wesley whispered, ripping off his own button-down dress shirt. Black buttons popped off and scattered across the floor.

"The buttons-" Rob said.

"Fuck me," Wesley whispered in his ear. Rob pushed him onto the bed. His pants came off, almost like magic, and Wesley felt two gentle hands gripping the middle of his torso. He pressed his face against Rob's and pushed his tongue inside, feeling and thrusting until Rob was shuddering in his grip. Then, Rob's tongue pushed back, and he felt a strong muscle pushing into him, licking the roof of his mouth and practically straining for his uvula. Wesley gasped involuntarily. Rob pulled away for a moment.

"Are you okay? Do you want that?" he asked.

"Don't be a pussy. /Fuck me/!" Wesley said. Rob came back down on top of him and pressed harder than ever. Wesley gave in, and let himself be entered by the tongue. He gripped at Rob's back, and then at his ass. He could feel a hot cock, swelling, pressing against his bare chest.

"W-what do you want to do?" Rob asked, his voice shaking. Wesley smirked. Then, he trembled.

"I'll suck your dick," he said. Bringing himself up, he lunged forward, seized Rob's dick in his hands, and closed his small mouth around it. The hot meat throbbed between his lips, as he bobbed up and down, running his tongue along the ridge of the shaft. Rob moaned audibly, gripping the sheets below him for balance. Wesley sucked harder. He allowed the cock to push backwards into his throat, letting the hot wet tip feel out the very back of his throat. He pushed it down, and back, and then drew it out, letting his saliva run down it as it pulled out of his mouth. When it reached his lips, he kissed the very tip, and then started licking the tip very gently with his tongue. Rob moaned loudly.

"I'm going to cum!" he grunted. Wesley held the dick to his face and allowed the hot jets of cum to splatter across the bridge of his nose, landing in his eyes and in his hair and splattered across his lips.

"Yum, yum," he said, drawing a finger across his face. Rob's cock was already starting to harden again.

"D-do you want me to-" Rob began. Wesley kissed him to shut him up, smearing cum across Rob's lips with his gentle tongue. Rob pulled away.

"Fuck my ass," Wesley said, his voice a hoarse whisper. He nodded. From a bedside table, Rob produced a bottle of sickly-smelling lube. Soon, both his cock and Wesley's ready asshole were coated in slick fluid. He was bent over, spreading his pale cheeks and waiting for Rob's cock. He had done this before, but never... never with Rob. He shivered in anticipation.

Slowly, he felt Rob's rock-hard cock enter his asshole. Gradually, gradually, he felt himself be penetrated. "C'mon, you asshole. Fuck me harder!" he whispered hoarsely, through gritted teeth. With a noticeable push, Rob's cock slammed all the way into his asshole. Wesley groaned in pleasure. Rob thrust in and out, slamming his swollen head into Wesley's prostate and forcing out choked groans of pleasure. Wesley felt the cum still sliding down his face, solidifying on his eyebrows and dripping onto the floor from his chin. Rob's thick, wrinkled cock spread his asscheeks wide and he felt like screaming. With a strangled roar, Rob slammed into him one last time, and Wesley felt a blast of hot cum spray into his anus. "O-ooohhh!" he screamed, and Rob pulled out, spraying a final few jets of cum and leaving Wesley's ass dripping with white sperm.

Rob stood over him, looking smugly satisfied. Wesley panted. He felt warm all over, like Rob had planted some kind of marvellous fire inside him.

"I- I thought you didn't have much experience with guys," he said, between breaths. Rob smiled.

"I wanted to give you a good time," he said. Wesley stood up and kissed him, pressing him against the wall and slowly licking up and down his mouth with his own, cum-covered tongue.

"I love you," Rob said. Wesley smirked slightly.

"Thanks," he said. "You're a good fuck." He hoped Rob would take that the way it was intended. It seemed like he did; he was beaming. As an afterthough, he added: "The horse is appropriate, by the way. Wild green stallion, you are."

He was still smiling.

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Epilogue, Part 1

[tweeted by @nydwracu, dated one day after his departure from San Francisco]

Met up with @nostalgebraist irl when I was in SF. He was so in awe of my intellectual dick that he turned NRx. good times

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Epilogue, Part 2

[tumblr post by user @nostalgebraist. the same day]

Anon asked: Are you actually a green horse irl?

Ask @severnayazemlya, he saw me in SF the other day.

[@severnayazmelya reblogged to add:]

can confirm. tumblr user nostalgebraist is totally a horse.