Page 39 of Switch Pitching

We’re cuddling.

My eyes open wider with the realization, and then I laugh. Big brawny Ethan is being little spooned by me. I’m sure this looks ridiculous, but it’s funny.

He’s so peaceful. His hair is a mess, and I can see the edges of a massive smile pulling his cheeks up. I don’t know what possesses me, maybe it’s instinct or muscle memory, but I drawmyself closer. He lets out a soft sigh and snuggles closer to me, my chin fitting behind his neck perfectly.

His t-shirt is super soft. I don’t know where he buys his shirts, but I need to ask him so I can get fifty of them. I trace his shoulder and let myself get enthralled by the fuzzy fabric.

This is kinda adorable, not gonna lie. Two bros who can cuddle without it being awkward. Ethan shows all the signs of being my buddy and none of being attracted to me. Growing up, I always judged people who were so afraid of being crushed on by their gay friends. I’m friends with a few women who are super attractive, but am I attracted to them? No. We’re friends. I can keep my dick in my pants, and I know Ethan’s capable of the same.

Besides, being close to someone like this is awesome. There aren’t any expectations or anything, just a bit of human contact. I’m a little more tactile than most guys, but hey, I like what I like, and I crave this kind of casual closeness.

Ethan jerks, and I think that’s a sign he’s woken up. I know he can feel that I’m here, but his eyes widen as soon as he actually sees me.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I sing.

Ethan closes his eyes and returns my greeting through what sounds like gritted teeth.

Okay, he’s grouchy this morning. Shit. Maybe I woke him up and he’s tired. But he was smiling a few seconds ago. What happened?

He doesn’t say anything more, but he jolts upright like someone slipped a snowball under his ass.

“What’s up?” I ask, sitting up as well. “You okay?”

Ethan nods, but it’s not convincing. “Yeah, I just need to get ready for the day,” he mumbles, standing up and stretching.

“Did I do something?” The words come out before I can stop them.

He freezes and turns back toward me. “No, it’s not you. I just didn’t sleep well.”

I’m more awake now, and I can tell that’s a lie. He slept like a baby. Nobody who slept badly wakes up with a beaming smile like the one he had this morning. Something’s bothering him.

“Ethan, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I just need to take a leak and get some actual sleep.”

Then he abruptly spins around and beelines to his bathroom, leaving me lying in his bed, confused as hell. How did Ethan go from literally sleeping in my arms to darting out of the room, seemingly to avoid me?

Something downstairs beeps, jolting me out of my thoughts and out of the bed. I almost bump into Ethan on the way out, and he shuffles past me with a glass of water, not saying a single word.

He doesn’t emerge from his room for hours. Not that I’mlistening, but the house is silent. I mostly stay in my room, but I don’t hear any footsteps, doors, or signs of life. Ethan’s in a mood, and I have no idea why. I make myself a basic breakfast and replay the morning in my head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Coming up with nothing, I decide to take a nap because that’s the only thing I want to do right now.

A few hours later, I wake up and the house is still eerily quiet. I peek out of my room, and it’s like I live alone. Ethan’s door is still closed, and when I go to the kitchen for water, the only dishes in the sink are the ones I put there after breakfast.

Hurt fills my stomach. He’s clearly down, and all I want is for him to feel better. Sure, most people would say that Ethan isquiet and doesn’t necessarily radiate happiness or fart sunshine out his ass, but I like being around him. He’s the best kind of person.

Even though he’s down, he still has to eat. That’s how I find myself knocking on his door seconds later, which gets me a confused grunt in reply. That’s something, at least.

“Hey, Ethan,” I call out. “Did you eat today?”

Silence. I wait, and there’s shuffling and footsteps before Ethan opens the door. He’s tired, but his cheeks have a slight flush to them that give him a rejuvenated glow.

“How about we grab some dinner soon? My treat,” I suggest, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

Ethan rubs his eyes. “Yeah, I’m down to grab food. You don’t have to pay though.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it. Let me take you on a bro date. There’s this Sichuan restaurant down the street from us that I’ve been desperate to check out.”

Ethan hesitates, but then he nods. “Alright, let’s do it.” He smiles, and a flicker of life flashes in his eyes. “Thanks, James. I appreciate it.”

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