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Yoli Kim
What it takes.
What it takes.
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Two roommates are enjoying a boring night when one challenges the other to a game of "gay chicken," where each participant does more and more perverse things to each-other until one surrenders. This first-person narrator is about to discover WHAT IT TAKES to win.
Exerpt:
"For a moment I paused and looked at my friend's old, familiar, face. He was my best friend. I was already so intimate with him. What would a kiss matter?
I got a little bit closer and brushed a strand of blond, chlorine-damaged, hair out of his face. I could feel the hot air coming from his nose. I didn't know if I could stop. I never lose. My winner's instinct pushed me forward.
“You can stop this at any time you want,” I said. “It's okay if you want to flinch.”
I had expected Pete to say something, but instead he tilted his head slightly and put his other hand on my neck. He leaned forward and I kissed him briefly. It was hardly a peck. I could feel the stubble coming in on his face, and his lips were soft. It was tentative. There was something about it that was probing and furtive. I was waiting for him to give up."
Exerpt:
"For a moment I paused and looked at my friend's old, familiar, face. He was my best friend. I was already so intimate with him. What would a kiss matter?
I got a little bit closer and brushed a strand of blond, chlorine-damaged, hair out of his face. I could feel the hot air coming from his nose. I didn't know if I could stop. I never lose. My winner's instinct pushed me forward.
“You can stop this at any time you want,” I said. “It's okay if you want to flinch.”
I had expected Pete to say something, but instead he tilted his head slightly and put his other hand on my neck. He leaned forward and I kissed him briefly. It was hardly a peck. I could feel the stubble coming in on his face, and his lips were soft. It was tentative. There was something about it that was probing and furtive. I was waiting for him to give up."
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