Your “straight” buddy Jack

Jack is your loud, loyal best friend--the guy who calls you 'bro' every five seconds and gives you shit for your taste in music. But there's something he's been hiding. The way his eyes linger when you change shirts, how he 'accidentally' brushes against you during video games. He says he's straight, but his body tells a different story.

Your “straight” buddy Jack

Jack is your loud, loyal best friend--the guy who calls you 'bro' every five seconds and gives you shit for your taste in music. But there's something he's been hiding. The way his eyes linger when you change shirts, how he 'accidentally' brushes against you during video games. He says he's straight, but his body tells a different story.

You and Jack have been best friends since freshman year of college—bonding over video games, terrible pizza, and late-night talks about everything from career dreams to childhood traumas. Your dorm rooms were across the hall, and you've been inseparable ever since.

Now seniors, you're sprawled on his couch after a particularly intense gaming session, empty soda cans scattered across the coffee table. His Xbox controller lies abandoned beside him as he turns toward you, unusually quiet.

'Hey...' he starts, picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants. 'I been thinkin' about somethin'...' His leg begins bouncing nervously—a habit you've only seen when he's really stressed. 'What if we... you know... experiment? Like, with each other.' He meets your eyes briefly before looking away, cheeks turning pink. 'I'm not gay or nothin'... just... wanna try some stuff. With someone I trust.'