Just My Type-

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"I'm so serious, get in the shower and get dressed, we're going!"

I rolled my eyes and looked up at my friend—and roommate—Iwabe from where I was lying lazily on the couch as he stood, leaning over me with his hands on his hips. He was trying to persuade me to go out to a club that I had no interest in going to. I'd made the mistake before.

"It's not fucking happening. Give it a rest." I grumbled, closing my eyes. I was over this conversation.

"Come on Kawaki, I'm not fucking around. We're going!" He grabbed my arm and started pulling on me, but I didn't budge.

"I'm not going." I said simply, wishing he would just leave me be. "That club is filled with nothing but twinks."

He suddenly let go of me and I opened my eyes to find him gawking at me. "Are you kidding? You love twinks!"

I groaned and rolled onto my side to face away from him. "You know what happened last time." I muttered and Iwabe sighed.

"That was last time."

"It would be no different if I went again." I deadpanned. I may have been attracted to twinks, but I had no desire to be flocked by them.

"Look, I'm sick of your attitude. If you don't get laid tonight I'm gonna lose my mind! Besides, I'll be with you and if you just pick someone, everybody else will back off."

That wasn't necessarily true. "I'm not going."

…...

I couldn't believe Iwabi had talked me into going to the damn club. Maybe it was what I needed, but I still only pictured having a headache the whole night. I showered and dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a grey T-shirt and my black vest I loved so much. I decided to wear my worn black boots because they were my favorite and I wasn't trying to impress anyone anyway.

Iwabe complained about me not going sleeveless, saying I should show off my arms more and I talked shit the whole ride to the club. We took a cab, knowing we were both going to get wasted. Iwabe went on endlessly about the shit show he was going to put on if I didn't take somebody home with me and we argued until we got out of the cab.

Once we entered the club, I wanted to leave immediately. It was definitely twink-central. There were dozens of them, everywhere, but the majority of them were crowded together on the dance floor.

I knew all twinks weren't attracted to my body type, just as I knew all of them weren't bottoms. But that didn't mean that there wouldn't be several of them ogling me—watching my every move and sometimes even being brave enough to approach me. I took pride in my body, loved to work out but I wasn't one to show off my body. Unless it was time to fuck anyway.

It had been a while. Mostly because I couldn't keep a twink happy. They were too needy, wanting to cuddle and be loved and spoiled. Not all of them, but all of them that I had personally fucked with. Maybe I just never liked a guy enough to put forth the effort, but whatever the reason was, I had given up. Nobody wanted to just fuck on occasion anymore. Everybody wanted love, a full blown relationship. Not me though. Never me.

I followed Iwabe to the bar, where he greeted one of his friends who I knew but wasn't actually friends with myself. We got a couple of beers and sat at a table to talk, drink and watch. Iwabe would jump the gun before long, having no trouble working the room and finding the right guy to hook up with. He did it all the time. Me though, I was pretty picky. I knew what I liked and that was what I wanted. I wouldn't settle for less.

Even if I hadn't wanted to come, my eyes did scan the dance floor to get a better look of everyone who was out there. The number one thing I looked for in a guy was cuteness. I liked them cute as fuck—and knowing and owning the fact that they were cute. I liked soft, hairless skin that was unmarked. Pure. That's what I wanted. The exact opposite of me.

Because I was covered in tattoos, just over six feet tall and nothing but muscle. Though I had a few piercings as well, I wasn't attracted to guys with similar appearances. So I looked for soft features, clean skin and usually lighter colored hair. There were several guys in the club that fit what I was looking for, but appearance wasn't the only thing that mattered. I knew I was a little particular, considering I only wanted the guy for a good fuck, but that's just how I was.

"See anything you like?" Iwabe asked and then had a sip of his beer, his eyes locked on the dance floor. His tastes were similar to mine, but he wasn't quite as picky.

"Guess I'm not drunk yet." I joked.

"Whatever. But see… nobody is attacking you."

"Let's hope they don't."

"You need some attention. You should be out there." He said, pointing to the dance floor.

There was no way in hell I was getting in the middle of all that grinding. My pierced brow rose when the guys dancing parted to reveal a pair of twinks in the middle of a very heated makeout session. They were really going at it, groping and humping—I needed some popcorn because I could watch all night.

It only got better when another twink jumped in angrily, but instead of a fight breaking out the original two turned their attention to the new addition and the three of them proceeded to put on one hell of a show.

"Damn." I was intrigued, needed another beer but didn't want to miss anything.

"Better than porn." Iwabe sighed wistfully and I nodded in agreement.

Unfortunately, some of the guys dancing wound out blocking the view and I disappointedly got up and went for another beer. All the cute guys were dancing so none of them were at the bar to bother me and I was pissed that I had to wait for the bartender who was busy flirting with another customer. Annoying as it was, I waited patiently, staring at the bartender until somebody popped up beside me.

I glanced to my side, finding my definition of twink next to me. He'd perched on the bar stool as he leaned over the bar, blue eyes raking over me slowly. He was grinning, all blond hair, fashionable clothes and petite. What really got me was that he was cute as fuck. After he got a good look at me—and I was still getting a good look at him—he called to the bartender by name and he came over quickly, apologizing as he passed a drink to the blond without even asking what he wanted.

"Take care of my friend here, too!" He told the bartender while gesturing to me and then winked at me while having a sip of his drink before sauntering off.

Once he was out of sight, I turned back to the bartender who had a smug look on his face. "What can I get you?"

"A beer. And his name."

The bartender laughed as he grabbed a beer and then opened it before handing it over to me. "Don't waste your time, honey."

I scowled at the bartender, slapped some money on the bar and took my beer back to my table. Iwabe was still on his first drink, eyes on the dance floor.

"I saw that." He mused.

"Saw what?" I asked before tipping my beer back and chugging.

"You eye fucking the hell outta that blond."

I pulled the bottle from my lips and swallowed carefully, so I wouldn't choke. "Shut the fuck up."

After that, I couldn't help feeling a little down. I didn't get why the bartender made that comment and I had yet to spot the blond again in the crowd.

It wasn't long before Iwabe went to get us both another drink and I sat stockstill at the table, nearly sulking. I knew after I'd set my eyes on the blond that nobody else was going to do it for me. If I didn't have him, I didn't want anyone.

Another few beers and I was all but brooding at the table, my eyes having skimmed over the entire club in search of the blond but to no avail. I was just ready to head home, and wanted to go even more when Iwabe decided who he wanted to make a pass at and he left me to do so.

I switched from beer to liquor, buying several shots and carrying them to the table so I wouldn't have to make so many trips. I'd been hoping to see the blond back at the bar, but if he'd been there I'd missed him. I was doing a good job of keeping a low profile, at least until I had enough alcohol in my system to not give a fuck.

That blond didn't mean anything. He was nobody. I could find at least a dozen guys that would beg for my dick. As soon as I wandered over to the dance floor, the first one approached me. In a matter of seconds, I was surrounded and so many bodies were grinding on me I didn't know what to do. So I didn't do anything, I just stood there, because I wasn't a dancer, but I didn't really mind getting danced on—especially while I was drunk.

By now everyone was starting to look good, if only I could pick one. Before I could think any further, the blond from earlier caught my eye and I watched as he danced his way over to me. He made the decision for me. I loved how confident he was, in the way he closed the distance between us and pressed up against me while running his hand up under my shirt to get a feel of my abs.

I didn't notice that all the other guys who'd been dancing on me had scattered. The only thing on my mind was getting this blond out of here and fucking him. There was a knowing gleam in his blue eyes and a smirk on his lips as he looked up at me. He was down to fuck, I didn't need to hear him say it. I knew. And I was excited to have found exactly what I was looking for.

He took my hand and started pulling me away from the dance floor without a word and I had no interest in arguing. I fully expected to be taking him home with me, but instead he pulled me behind the bar through a door and down a hallway. I didn't know where he was taking me but as long as it was somewhere we could fuck, I didn't care.

When he opened a door at the end of the hallway and pulled me into what appeared to be an apartment though, I was surprised. I wondered if he actually lived here or if he was friends with the owner of the club, but it didn't matter. I didn't think about any of that long as he pulled me through the place and into a bedroom.

Remaining silent, he closed the distance between us and pushed my vest back off my shoulders. By the time it hit the floor he was already lifting up my shirt and I helped him, raising my arms and tugging it the rest of the way off. I let it fall on top of my vest and stood still as he looked over my now naked torso before his hands were on me. He wasn't like the usual guys—far from it. There was no hesitation with this guy, he wasn't afraid to dive in and touch me.

I let him do as he pleased, gazing down at him as he started licking and kissing southward. I'd never let someone treat my body in such a way—it was always me who did that. But it felt too good to question it and once he was on his knees before me, I was too far gone to care. He quickly had my jeans undone and pulled down, along with my briefs.

His blue eyes glanced up at me, just briefly before his hand wrapped around my erection. He went in without wasting a beat, pulling it upwards and swirling his tongue around my balls. His hand stroked me slowly, both it and his mouth teasing at first. In no time at all, I was completely hard and he smirked against my length, running his lips up it slowly.

"You're really fucking sexy."

So was he with his mouth against my dick like that, but I kept quiet and just watched him. It had been longer than I cared to admit since I'd fucked anyone, trying to steer clear of the drama it created. Now though, I could barely contain the thrill I felt at finding this nameless blond. It was nice to know he knew what he was doing—he really knew, because he started sucking me like nobody ever had before.

Maybe I was just a little over sensitive because it had been so long, but even the slightest touch of his tongue had my jaw tensing and my hands fisting in his hair. It was soft and thick, styled nicely until I got my hands in it. He put on a show, making sure to keep meeting my eyes while his mouth and hands worked on me. It felt so good that I wanted to come just like this and I wasn't going to stop him. But he stopped himself, right when I was so close. I could only pull his hair and growl in protest.

"I want you to fuck me." He told me, a knowing smile on his lips.

I wouldn't have a problem with that. Before I could even take a step towards him, he started stripping himself. His movements were slow and provocative. The more his body was revealed, the more I was certain that he was the more sexy out of the two of us. His skin was tan, smooth and unblemished, so perfect that I could have really enjoyed myself getting my hands and mouth acquainted with it, but as soon as he was naked, he moved to the dresser and then tossed me a bottle of lube.

My brows raised as I looked from the bottle now in my hand, back to him. He was crawling on the bed, ass in the air taunting me. Every inch of this guy was just so tempting. He really wasn't wasting any time…

Though I was surprised, I was just fine with getting straight to it if he was. Once I found a condom in my wallet, I got behind him on the bed, poured the lube between his cheeks and slid the condom on my dick.

"Just put it straight in." He told me breathily when I moved my hand to his ass and I frowned.

What the hell is wrong with this guy?

He was crazy, definitely crazy as fuck, but if that's what he wanted I would give it to him gladly. Getting in wasn't easy without having stretched him beforehand and it felt so good that once I was balls deep I couldn't even move for a moment. He seemed to like it as much as me—if not more—in the way he moaned so vulgarly.

Holding tight to his hips, I closed my eyes to take a moment to soak in the satisfaction. I wasn't expecting him to pull up from me and then push back strenuously. A grunt escaped me at the blinding sensation. I still didn't move—too caught up in the tight heat I was wrapped in. He wasn't having it though, he thrusted back against me, urging me to fuck him.

"Ah, please fuck me. Please."

Shit. I didn't stand a chance. There was no way I could hold back with him begging me. So, I moved, hard and deep and fast. It was so different from any sexual experience I'd ever had, even from the beginning. He really let me hear him, crying out without a care in the world. He praised me, cursed continuously and talked so fucking dirty he made me feel like a lightweight.

I never touched his cock and neither did he but I knew it couldn't have been but a few minutes of me fucking him when he nearly screamed, "Fuck, I'm coming!"

My eyes were half focused on the sight of my dick going in and out of his tight hole so quickly—his words sending me over the edge. I wasn't sure if I'd ever came so intensely before or breathed so heavily after doing so. I barely had a moment to revel in the bliss I'd felt before he crawled up a bit, leaving my member at a loss. His body had yet to calm and his cute face was flushed but he was already getting off the bed and stepping into his briefs.

Confused and also a bit shaken, I got off the bed as well, trashing the condom before starting to get dressed myself. He beat me to it and once I had my clothes on I found him grinning at me.

"Damn, you're really beautiful. Almost makes me want more of you." He giggled as he started to leave the room.

I followed him quietly for a while, until we reached the hallway that led back to the club and then I asked, "what's your name?"

"Does it matter?" He threw over his shoulder, amusement thick in his tone and showing plainly in his blue eyes.

Whoa. "No. It doesn't." I muttered, but I didn't understand this strange feeling. It really irked me to be unable to figure this guy out.

"Good." He said, sighing as if relieved. "I didn't take you for the clingy type. We just needed a good fuck… and we got it."

Yeah. That was it. That's just what I'd wanted. How could I not be happy about it?

We reached the end of the hall and he opened the door slightly before looking up at me. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Maybe." I shrugged and then we returned to the club and went our separate ways.

It was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me—and that was saying something. This blond guy was perfection for me. He was so perfect that I couldn't help feeling disappointed that I wouldn't be likely to have the chance of fucking him again. But it was meant to be this way… better for a one and done than to have him trying to marry me.

X

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In the days following my night at the club, I had a hard time being home in my shared apartment with Iwabe. The guy he'd brought back with him that night had yet to leave, he was nice enough but I'd never seen Iwabe so… smitten. When they weren't in his room fucking as loud as possible, they were all over the apartment, swapping spit and groping each other constantly. It was annoying for me, even if I was happy as long as Iwabe was happy. He was my best friend after all.

He'd always been like me, happy to be alone—only wanting sex when the mood struck. He'd never wanted to be tied down or have anybody get crazy over him, but then he told me that there was something special about this one and he didn't plan on letting him go anytime soon.

I knew it was serious just because he hadn't even bothered questioning me about the blond I'd hooked up with. I wasn't even sure if he knew about it. It was certainly unusual considering that almost always after I had sex with a guy, they'd be calling or stopping by until I got fed up and scared them off.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about him a few times, which was also strange. I didn't know anything about him, not even his name. He didn't know anything about me either. It wasn't likely that we would ever see each other again and even if we did, that didn't mean we would have the urge to fuck.

The way he kept drifting into my thoughts was concerning. I even had the most ridiculous curiosities… like what if he didn't like it—or what if I'd lost my swag after being out of the game for a short while. Sometimes even while I was at work and as a bricklayer, my job was taxing enough that I didn't need to be distracted.

After a couple weeks of this, Iwabe had picked up on my brooding and questioned me about it. I brushed him off, not wanting to discuss my inner turmoil with anyone. I didn't even want the thoughts to myself. When I knocked off that Friday, I knew I had to do something. I had to find somebody else just to see if I really was losing it or what. So, I was going back out and Iwabe and his new toy happily tagged along.

Since it was myself who'd decided to come tonight—and I was on a mission—my mood was much different from the last time I'd come. The place was twink central, no matter what day or what hour and I was determined to mingle more than I ever had before. No amount of attention was going to bother me. I'd dressed my best, was wearing my most expensive cologne and happily bought a round of shots for all the cute guys on the dance floor as a means of breaking the ice.

Just as I expected, I received a hefty amount of attention thanks to that. We took the shots together and then I had guys all over me, whether they were clinging to my arm, sliding a curious hand over any part of me they could reach, or dancing against me like it was a goddamn contest.

I was more than happy to play around with them, whether it was me lifting up my shirt to show off my body or pulling them in one at a time to tease them a bit. By the time I bought another round of shots, I had damn near every one of them swooning over me. I'd come to the conclusion that I didn't need to pick just one of them—I would take everyone of them and not think twice about it.

Before I could come up with a plan for making things happen though, all the cute boys fawning over me suddenly started scattering like flies while one in particular approached me. The way my heart stuttered at the sight of the blond couldn't be normal, but I felt as if every bit of the alcohol drained from my system as I stared down at his conspicuous smile.

At that moment, I thought that all my worries had been for nothing. The look in his eyes alone told me that he wanted me, and just like the last time, I let him pull me to that room where I fucked him good and it was even better than the first time. Yet it ended the same, with me not knowing a single thing about him and him not trying to learn anything about me. As much as I liked it—I hated it. It bugged the hell out of me.

X

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X

My next visit to the club was the following weekend and it went a similar way. I didn't know why I could be so determined to fuck with somebody—anybody else and yet end up with him. As if I was under some sick spell, I followed him and I took him just like he wanted me to. My mouth had never touched him, but I craved it. My hands itched to touch his smooth skin, but he always made sure he received nothing more than my dick. It was infuriating.

It made no sense. Ever since I'd started fucking around, I wanted to be able to do so with no strings attached. But this though… I hated it. I couldn't stand that he never gave me a chance to make him want anything more. It was far from normal and I had already figured out that he was different in every aspect of the word—even before I heard some gossip between the twinks on my next trip.

"Oh God if he isn't a delicious sight." One of them said, his eyes on me as I stood on the dance floor, drinking a beer.

The guy beside him just shook his head, barely sparing me a glance before crossing his arms and snorting, "Too bad B won't let anybody have any fun with him. He'd probably rock both of our worlds at once but before it could ever happen, he'd show up and steal him."

"Figures. He always claims the best dick."

Always claims the best dick?

I knew they were talking about me and the blond who I so willingly chose over all the rest. So many times now. They called him B, it was apparent that everyone knew him. And every time I'd come, I wouldn't see him until the last moment when he'd come to me. Then we'd go fuck. But I'd be damned if I let anyone think they had some kind of claim on me. I didn't care how cute he was or how good it felt to fuck him—or even how much he fucked with my head.

So I waved those two sulking cuties over to me and while they were reluctant, they exchanged a few whispers and then came over. I wrapped my arms around their shoulders and pulled them snug against me. They obviously wanted to play a little bit, and I knew this time, I had to. I couldn't just keep having that blond and nobody else. That was basically a whole relationship. Besides, it wasn't like I was devoted to him or anything.

"What's the point in teasing us if you'll just run after B as soon as he shows up?" The sassy one asked, pouting as he stared up at my face. He was pale skinned and dark headed, but definitely cute.

"I'm not teasing." I muttered, leaning down towards him and ghosting my lips across his neck.

The way he shuddered and sucked in a sharp breath made me smirk but I didn't get to enjoy it long before I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey."

So they'd been right. This blond… B, seemed to think he had a right to have me over anyone else… and yet not even fucking talk to me. Only I could do that shit and get away with it—and I wasn't even that cold. I lifted my head to glare at him, holding tighter to the two cuties now trying to make a break for it. Why were they so scared of this guy?

"Need something?" I questioned uninterestedly.

He just smiled at me, looking amused. "Just you, Kawaki."

I stiffened the instant my name left his lips, wondering how the hell he knew it—I'd never told him. He was so tempting, because he was everything I wanted in a guy but I couldn't let him break me. I couldn't let him reduce me to a whipped bitch. Never. Never.

"Sorry, but my hands are full." Literally. Just trying to keep those two with me. They were silent, but steadily trying to get away.

"But they don't really want you." He countered and the sassy one piped up;

"H-he's right. Please let me go."

So I let them both go, wanting to know why in the hell this guy could make them fearful enough to turn down something they both undoubtedly wanted.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I was past my breaking point. I was over this aloof and annoying nonsense. "You don't really want me either, so why are you fucking with me?"

His head tilted slightly as he watched me. "Oh but I do want you. And you want me."

"No I don't." I lied lamely, knowing my voice gave me away.

He chuckled lightly but it ended in a sigh. "I've met a lot of guys in my life. One look and I know everything I need to know. You want a piece of ass, no attachments. You don't even want to be friends. I want you because you're obviously sexy as fuck and your dick is amazing, but that's all I ask for so that I don't run you off. Now, you're pissed because why? Am I not exactly what you were looking for?"

Yes. "You don't know what I want."

"Then tell me." He said softly as he took hold of my hand. "Or better yet, you can show me."

I didn't know what I was feeling or why—yet again—I was following him to that room so willingly. Could I tell or show him anything when I myself didn't even know what I truly wanted? The possibility of more with him left me exuberated, my heart was beating faster. This excitement was so new to me.

Once we entered the room, instead of stripping or coming at me, he went and sat on the bed. I watched him for a long moment, hating how damn adorable he was. His eyes were locked on mine, patient and curious.

"What's your name?" I asked quietly, because I'd wanted to know—since that first time, weeks ago.

"So then it does matter?" He hummed, smiling softly before answering, "it's Boruto."

Boruto. B. I took a step closer. "How do you know my name?"

He lowered his eyes and stifled a laugh. "I like to know all of my customers by name. I do actually check the books, you know. I don't just get drunk and get laid. I work too."

"You own this place?" I asked incredulously. It did explain a lot.

"You didn't know?" He laughed a full laugh then. "Why the hell else would I have a room here?"

I shrugged and moved to sit next to him on the bed. "Wouldn't it be wrong of me to assume?"

"Well… I can't say that. I assumed that you knew. Everybody else does. Iwabe didn't tell you?"

This fucker. My brows twitched and I chided myself for not talking things over with Iwabe. I wasn't sure if he knew about me sneaking off with Boruto even now.

"Oh. Then I'll tell you myself. I own this club and live here because we're only closed on Sundays and I'm always busy taking care of everything. I like to get laid as much as the next guy, but I don't bother trying to be in an actual relationship because I own a club. I'm up all night, every night. I sleep most of the day. This is my life."

"That doesn't explain why you don't want me to touch you." I grumbled, still soaking in his words.

"Well… that's because… I really like you and I'm not sure I could handle it."

It was the first time I'd ever seen such a flustered look on his face and it made him more cute than ever. "And… if I said that I wanted you to try? That maybe… I'd be willing to take a chance with you…"

Shit. What was I even saying?

His eyes returned to mine, wide with surprise. "But…" his face quickly fell and he sighed. "I know your type, Kawaki. You don't want a relationship. And I don't want to fall for a guy like you, get my hopes up only to end up broken hearted."

He'd usually be spot on. "I want you though. If I could have you, I wouldn't need anyone else."

"You can't just say that." He scoffed and looked away from me, face fully red now. "I mean… what if…"

"What if it ends up being the best thing we ever did?" I countered.

There was something about him that I just couldn't get over. Maybe it was because somehow, I'd changed without even realizing it. I wasn't getting any younger. It could be nice to have someone who I really liked, being devoted to me, letting me have them and them have me.

Boruto suddenly crawled onto my lap, straddling me and wound his arms around my neck. It was the closest we'd ever been face to face. We stared into each other's eyes and my hands moved to his waist, slowly sliding to his back. Yes. I really wanted to touch him like this. There was no denying it.

"You would want me like that, even knowing I own this club?" He asked hopefully.

"That doesn't matter in the least. Once you give yourself to me, you won't be able to think about anyone else… and I… already have that problem." Even though it was embarrassing to admit, I wanted to be honest.

He grinned cheekily and kissed my cheek. It was so warm and welcome. "Well then, go ahead. Make me crazy."

I didn't need to be told twice. That was all I needed to hear. From that night onward, I dedicated all my free time to Boruto, determined to make him fall hard for me—something I had tried to prevent with other guys for the entirety of my adult life.

He gave all of himself to me gladly, and I enjoyed my time with him even more than I thought possible. I'd been wrapped around his finger since that first night, even if I didn't know how. It didn't matter though. As long as I had him, I was happy. He satisfied me more than anyone ever had and in return, I gave him more than I'd ever given anyone. He didn't have to ask, I already knew everything I needed to do—everything he could possibly want from me.

And with such little effort, the two of us were happy—so happy that we didn't know what to do with ourselves.

A/N:

More kawaboru because I cant get enough of them!

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