I take small bites of toast and drink some of the hot tea he made. This is the one time I can enjoy his love for different flavored teas—our pantry is full of them.
“Thanks, you’re the best,” I say between sips. “Don’t you have to start getting ready for work soon?”
“Nah, Dillon is covering for me tonight.”
“You look like shit, Bryce. Did I get you sick already?”
“I feel fine. Just hard to sleep next to a furnace.”
I look around for a second, and then, duh, it hits me. “You were lying with your limbs splayed like a starfish on top of me!”
“Hey, it was the only way to stop you from tossing and turning. What was I supposed to do?” He laughs before his lack of sleep shows with a yawn.
“I always loved the weighted blankets Mom got me.”
“Yeah, those things were great.”
We fall into silence while we eat the rest of our breakfast. I can’t stand it any longer, so I turn the TV on and find a game from last night to watch. He falls asleep before the first periodeven ends. I turn onto my side and lie there studying him for the first time.
His strong jawline is defined by his neatly trimmed beard that makes him look much older. I’ve always loved his tattoos, but right now every curve of the intricate designs contours his forearm muscles like it was meant to be there, making them even hotter. Even though his hair is short with a slight curl, he always has it perfectly styled with some type of product—if he doesn’t wear his ball cap.
I drift off while staring at him and then wake up to my dark room aside from the muted TV. He must’ve gotten tired of sweating next to me and gone to his own bed. I make my way to the bathroom, realizing I haven’t pissed all day, and wind up walking into a steamy room. He doesn’t hear me come in; he’s still facing the wall with one hand balancing himself on the tiles, and the other is…wait, is he? Holy shit, I think he’s jerking off. I watch for a moment and know I should turn around, but I just can’t. My heart rate picks up, and I try to control my ragged breaths so he doesn’t hear me. I should leave, but admiring his physique and listening to his moaning is too tempting. I should announce myself, but I’m frozen in place, my mouth dry and needing something to quench this thirst while watching my best friend pleasure himself. That’s it, I’m leaving. This is creepy guy shit.
I back out the door, but before it closes, I hear him moan again, and god, does it make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There’s no way I can walk away now. I have to look, but I can’t open the door all the way again. What if he’s looking this way? Shit, I got it.
I lie down on my stomach and inch the door open slowly, peeking my head in. He’s still in the same position, thankfully, and can’t see me, but damn, can I see and hear him. Fuck, his ass is even more gorgeous naked. Am I jealous or attracted toit? As I feel my dick twitch, I know the answer. When he turns around, leaning against the wall as he finishes himself off, I have to wipe the moisture from the side of my lips. I see his body start to spasm and the sound of his release echoing in the stall, and realize my erection is aching against the hardwood floor. I quietly back out through the door in an army crawl and lie on my back for a moment before walking back to my room with my hand wrapped around my hardened cock.
A few minutes later, I hear him leave the bathroom as I’m cleaning myself off with a satiated sigh, and then I rush in to relieve myself.
What did I just do? I watched my best friend, my roommate, who trusts me, jerk off in the shower where he thought he was alone, and then afterward, I jerked off thinking about it. Fuck, how could I? Why would I? I couldn’t help myself, though. Now I have to figure out what the hell this means.
When I step outside the bathroom, trying to recover from my mini spiral, Bryce is walking out of his room with nothing on but those damn boxers again.
“Uh, hey, how are you feeling?” he asks.
“Like shit still. Going to lie down a little longer.”
“I’ll bring you some food. I was about to cook dinner.”
I nod, attempting not to stare at the dusting of hair across his chest and stomach with a happy trail leading under his black boxer shorts. I’ve never wanted to know more about where a happy trail leads to than in this moment.
I rush back to my room, our arms grazing each other as he walks past me. How did I not know how I felt about him all this time? Amber says I’min lovewith him, but it’s never felt like that until now. Or maybe this is just sexual attraction because I haven’t gotten laid in well over a month, like Bryce said. Maybe I need to go pick someone up and see if that gets rid of whatever the fuck is going on here.
Picking up a puck bunny won’t solve my problems, though—I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy. Hell, I’ve only had one serious girlfriend. I’ve been with Amber since junior year of high school, and I only slept with one girl before her.
Bryce bringing in tomato soup and grilled cheese has to be the sweetest thing in the world. “You remembered what Mom always made me when I was sick.”
“It’s your comfort food. I ordered groceries while you were sleeping.”
If guardian angels existed on earth, Bryce would be mine—always taking care of me in any situation.
“Do you mind if we watch something other than hockey?” he says carefully, as if I’d protest.
“We don’t always have to watch hockey, Bryce. Just change the channel.”
He chooses a comedy, and we set ourselves up, our backs against the headboard with the tray of food between us. I breathe in deeply when our hands graze each other, and the sound of his laughter gives me goosebumps. It’s as if every sensation involving Bryce is newly amplified by a hundred. By the time the movie ends, we’re both full and exhausted.
“I’m going to clean up and head to bed. You’ll be good in here tonight?”
