“I remember waking up that morning. I had this warm body pressed up against me and I was positive I must have scored a hot babe.”
Nantes glances at his feet, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Then I thought, okay, she’s pretty flat-chested. Good thing you woke up at that point, or my roaming hands might have found some other surprises.”
Nantes nods, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Good thing.” He stands abruptly. “Holler if you need anything.”
“Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to.”
“No, not at all. I was just thinking you must be tired.”
“Cool. Yeah, I can sleep. Night.”
“Night, Van.”
I watch him leave the room, then flop back on the bed. It’s pretty comfy, so hopefully I’ll get some decent sleep. As I peel off my clothes, memories of my life with Nantes flood my mind. We did so many crazy things together. I swore our bond was unbreakable, and I was right. Even with all the time we losttrying to be grown-ups and save the world, we fell right back into it. That’s comforting.
Sliding between the cool sheets, I tuck the pillow under my head and close my eyes. These few days away will be good for me. Maybe even better than I expected.
Chapter 6
Nantes
Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, I indulge in the memories ofthatnight. It was one of the formative moments in my life as a young gay kid. Waking up with Van massaging my chest and rubbing his swelling cock against my bare ass is a core memory and it took me a few minutes to realize he was still mostly asleep and not aware he was feeling me up. The temptation to let him explore was strong, but I was afraid he would totally freak out once he had a dick in his hand. Plus, I didn’t want him to know I was hard as a rock with his hands on me. Sure, I could’ve laughed it off as being drunk and unaware like he did, but I was terrified he would see through the lie.
Even now, my cock swells and twitches slightly. I had messed around a little at that point, but I went to great lengths to avoid getting too close to my best friend. Waking up smashed together was a dream come true. For a few seconds, anyway.
Remembering that reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve actually hooked up with someone. Too long. First I had work asan excuse, then transitioning back into the family business, but now that I’m settled, what’s my excuse?
It’s just so fucking hard. Weeding through the fuckboys and weirdos trying to find an actual connection is exhausting, and I guess I just haven’t been up for it. But lying here now, my dick half-hard from a memory of when I was still a teen is a good sign it’s been too long.
I roll onto my side and squeeze my eyes closed, hoping for sleep, but my mind is racing. I know the only way to make it go away. Quietly, I open my nightstand and grab my bottle of lube. I probably need to get more soon, as I’ve been using this with more regularity than I care to admit.
Vanian is in the room right next to mine, but I’m sure he can’t hear me. The walls are well insulated thanks to my grandpa’s old-school mentality. Look at the old man coming in clutch right now so I can jerk off without my best friend knowing.
After kicking the blankets off, I drizzle some of the sticky liquid over my cock, exhaling slowly as I wrap my fingers around it. I close my eyes, conjuring up my favorite fantasy inspired by endless hours of watching porn.
I’m lying on a large wooden table, surrounded by a crowd of people in masks, all of them admiring me like predators surveying a fresh kill. I could run if I wanted to, but I don’t. I want their eyes on me. Their hands.
It’s always the same. A handsome man steps forward, wearing a black suit and a matching mask that obscures most of his features, except a rugged jawline and full lips. As he unzips his slacks, other people move closer, rubbing my arms, my legs, my torso, until the man tugs me down so he can finger me.
His touch is rough, aggressive, and I love it. I love all the people watching me, I love the helplessness of it. The man’s fingers slide in and out of my hole, stretching me for what’s coming next.
As he enters me in my mind, I stroke my cock slowly, then fast, then slow again, writhing in my bed and imagining I’m in that other place with all those people. And him.
The man fucks me hard, not worried about being gentle with me, and I’m glad. I want to be fucking wrecked. I want to feel it for days.
My balls draw closer to my body, and I’m a little sad. I want to draw this out, enjoy the build-up as long as I can, but my body has other ideas. I’m already on the edge, fucking frantically into my fist, and in my sexy fantasy, the man hovers above me, smiling down at me before ripping his mask off.
Wait. That’s never happened before.
The scene around me changes, my teenage memory infiltrating my fantasy, and just like that, it’s Van hovering above me, fucking into me, gazing down at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen.
Part of my brain tries to push the image away, but the feral, horny part of me is in charge, and as I arch my back, I bite back his name, swallowing my moans of pleasure as cum shoots straight up and splashes down on me again.
I ride the wave of pleasure, biting my hand to stay quiet until it finally subsides. After catching my breath for several minutes, I finally open my eyes, but I’m mortified. After all these years, my animal brain still wants to use Van as spank bank material. Dammit. That’s not gonna make hanging out easier, especially now that he knows I’m gay.
Quietly, I get up and shuffle to my attached bathroom to clean up. I have to admit, I feel a lot better now. Maybe that was enough to get thoughts of my friend out of my head for good. He’s straight and I don’t fuck with straight boys. Not ever again. That’s a surefire recipe for heartache I know all too well.
