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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of gay short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

Gay Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From cozy romances to coming-out stories and more, love wins in our collection of gay short stories.

Gay Short Stories – Page 3

The 2:37 AM Club

Weekly Contest #345

*This story contains the use of homophobic slurs. The glow of the flickering open sign hanging crooked in the window. The whining creak of the door in harmony with the jingling of a bell as it swings open. Thick air smelling of old cigarettes and even older grease mixed with coffee, bacon, and garlic. The hum of deep fryers and beeping appliances, and the same Garth Brooks CD on repeat through a single broken speaker.This is paradise.At least, at 2:37 AM, after a long night of serving vodka cranberries to wasted twinks and their coked-up da...

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Moon Landing 2026: Sequins in Space

Weekly Contest #344

The Crew2026, and humanity has decided to revisit the moon. But this time, the mission is not just about science — it is about style, inclusivity, and proving that history could sparkle.The crew of Apollo Fabulous is unlike any before:• Captain Neela Armchair, (who was born Jamal) with nerves of steel and wit sharp enough to cut through lunar rock.• Buzz Glitterbeam, an extrovert astronaut who treats every mission like a Broadway premiere.• Mike Oldbarrel, a grumpy veteran who had seen too many launches and too few happy hours. The Journey O...

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A Study in Daffodils

Weekly Contest #343

“Two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, sevent—” “Hey!” Her shout cut through my counting, and I could feel the way my eyebrows knit together. “Hey!” she said again, this time softer. She was walking closer to me. Her gait was too slow to be a jog, yet aggravatingly too fast to be a stroll. I stopped walking, my fingers itching to keep walking and counting, but I took a deep breath instead. Dr. Thomas said I needed to practice. Practice, as she put it, “allowing life to exist.” Which I, frankly, thought was an idiotic turn of phrase. Lif...

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MICHAEL AND THE WIDOW LADY

Weekly Contest #343

MICHAEL AND THE WIDOW LADY. ELK RIVER, CANADA, 1923 Michael Lynch returned from the Great War with sunken cheeks and a face as white as birch bark. He was still pale and scrawny five years later as he sat on the widow’s porch thinking about his dead buddy. He often thought about Jimmy though he never talked about him, and while time had faded many of Michael’s memories, his memories of Jimmy had grown stronger. What Michael remembered best were the nights they spent on look-out duty, thirty yards from the en...

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Picture You

Weekly Contest #343

I’ve had my eyes fixed on the molten orange light from inside the kitchen window since the sun went down. In fact, I can’t remember if the chair below me was always this dusty, or if I’ve been collecting soot from the bonfire a few feet away. I can’t even remember a time when that bonfire was just wood and newspaper. The ash from the newspaper has settled in the pool, tinting it with a gray haze. I press my eyes shut and the dry warmth beneath the lids is extinguished at last. When I open them, she’s there again. I curse myself for thinking ...

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he ate the goose in his ass

Weekly Contest #343

CW: References to suicide and homophobia. There once was a man named Jessie O'fallon, and as long as anyone knew him, his butt quacked every time he took a step. This condition did not hamper his life, for he lived in a small town in the Northern part of New Hampshire. It had been so long since anyone asked him why his ass quacked that Jessie barely heard it whenever he walked or went for a jog. It wasn't until a full-grown goose flew out of his ass that his life changed, just as his wife-to-be was walking down the aisle. It was so disruptiv...

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Second Chemistry

Weekly Contest #342

Vance Caldwell noticed Timothy Hargrove on the third Tuesday of September 1987, in Room 214 of Jefferson High School. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like trapped insects while Mr. Delaney droned about molarity. Timothy had arrived two weeks late, a transfer from Pittsburgh, carrying a battered canvas backpack and an air of calm indifference that made the usual cliques uneasy. His dark curls brushed the collar of a faded plaid shirt, and thin wire-rimmed glasses slid slightly down his nose when he bent over his notebook. Vance, slouch...

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Time Stops

Weekly Contest #342

This story begins with the day I was born. This is not your usual day of birth. On this day, I am 41 years old. I’m in a gay bar in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah. As I stand in the crowd at the bar waiting my turn to order a drink, I feel out of place. ‘I am not in my 20s anymore…or my 30s’, my mind rudely reminds me. Should I even be here? Leo and Mark are ahead of me in line. I just met them earlier this evening, but they treat me as a friend they’ve known for years. Mark looks back and sees me, then yells over the noise, “what drink do yo...

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The Indent

Weekly Contest #342

A man stands before me, not paying attention to me at all, with lovely dark hair that holds soft curls and just a hint of silver. His eyes crinkle as he smiles to the person attempting to help him. He snorts, which is objectively adorable. Okay, maybe not objectively, but extremely subjectively adorable in a way that makes me want to help him instead of this woman who clearly does not know what she’s talking about. Well, maybe she does, and I’m just jealous. Why am I jealous of a person I don't know anything about? A stranger talking to anot...

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Two for Two

Weekly Contest #342

Alex lounged on the balcony of his second-floor apartment. A bit of sun slipped past the patio umbrella he’d zip-tied to one of the wooden posts, and, for the fourth time that day, he scooted away from the strip of light. A breeze played with the electric green curls on his head and tickled the dark curls of hair on his chest. He reached for the vodka-lemonade. The glass was cold and slick with condensation. Goosebumps erupted on his arm as he brought it to his lips to take a long sip. It settled in his stomach, made him feel floaty. He set ...

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How to Help

Weekly Contest #342

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” Sierra pinched a tuft of her frizzy hair between her fingers. Split ends. Each strand ended in in a fork, with two lightning bolt fibers jutting in opposite directions. Abandoned microwave meal packages crunched under her feet on the way to the bathroom. Sierra didn’t bother to turn the light on. She grabbed at a space on her left; she knew the conditioner would be there on the edge of the sink. Thousands of dollars flowed down her drain in the form of fancy shampoos, conditioners, and creams. None of it se...

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Rigel’s Rebellion

Weekly Contest #341

When the Isthryen began clawing themselves free from the earth, Rigel Lomatré stood in awe. His armor was crafted for every muscle on his toned body. His long sword held firmly in his grip, he did not waver. Known in the common tongue as Unseen Hunters, they emerged from the ground and set upon their prey with lightning speed. The Isthryen’s gnarled limbs twitched and cracked as they dragged their mutilated corpses forward. They were legion, an army of corpses spelled to end Rigel’s Rebellion. But this was more than a rebellion, this was a r...

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Plane To See

Weekly Contest #341

TW: Some homophobia. I sigh and heave my bag into the overhead.I look down and I’m stunned, then the person behind me asks, “If you’re done, may you please sit so we can pass?”I shake my head then nod, saying, “Of course, sorry.” I gingerly sit in my seat, not fastening the buckle, hoping a person will sit between us.I feel his eyes on me. I can see him looking from the corners of my own.I can’t do this.The flight attendant announces that the door is closing, so I close my eyes. The air being shut in makes my ears pop. No one sat between us....

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In Good Company

Weekly Contest #341

There are three kind of cadets. The tough guys, who swagger around intoxicated by their own bravado. They have wet dreams about guns and wielding power that only a weapon could give them. They’ve known their whole lives they’d be soldiers because they lack in any imagination or creativity to do anything else. The bullies, if you will. Then there are the guys that aren’t here by choice. The school screw ups that thought service was better option than flipping burgers. The ones that saw the military as a free pass to room and board and a rare ...

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Therevin’s Journeyman and The Colors of the Forest

Weekly Contest #341

TW: Grief My phone rings. I look to see Thomas’ Mom calling. She knows he and I broke up. Should I let the machine get it?After the third ring, I answer saying, “Hello, Shellie. How are you?” My voice is slightly higher than normal, but unwavering.“Oh, I wasn’t sure if… Hi, Reynold.” Her voice is weak and quiet. “I know you were close with Thomas.”Were?She continues, “I mean, I know you and him—” She chokes then sniffs as if crying.“Is everything okay, Shellie?” A well of darkness bores into the area above my stomach and below my chest, leav...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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