Page 13

Evan

T his is not how I imagined telling Mia that our fake relationship isn’t quite so fake anymore…if it ever was to even start with. I don’t think James is ready yet, either, and I smooth my hands over every part of him that I can reach, trying to calm him down. I press my index finger to my lips, conveying that I can be quiet, and then I slide my phone from my hip pocket and waggle it between us.

“You’re on the phone,” I mouth.

His kiss-swollen lips part into a perfect ‘O’ shape. I suspect my plan to finally feel them wrapped around my dick has been foiled by his kid. Who knew sixteen-year-olds were such cockblockers?

He clears his throat and raises his voice towards the door, answering, “Yeah, uh, I’m on the phone. To Ev.”

“Oh,” her voice is slightly muffled. “Okay.” There’s no shuffling or stomping of feet to indicate that she’s walking away yet. A moment later, she says, “It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

I glance down at my phone screen. It’s only ten. We’re not geriatrics.

“We’re not in our seventies yet,” Jay calls back with a laugh, and it makes me smile because how are we so in sync with each other? “But it’s definitely your curfew.”

There’s a temperamental teenaged “ Ugh ” from the other side of the door, before Mia says, “Fine.” Then, less moody, she adds, “Night, Dad. Love you.”

Aww . My heart goes all gooey for a moment.

“Night, Mimi,” Jay calls after her. “Love you, too.”

With the sexy vibes well and truly dissipated, I collapse onto the mattress beside James and tug him against me for a cuddle. I press my lips to his blonde head and allow tonight’s events to just wash over me.

When I let myself in, determined to rip the Band-Aid off and tell him how I’ve been feeling, I feared the worst-case scenario: that he would be weirded out by my very sudden, very unexpected (well, maybe not so unexpected, considering I’ve enjoyed sucking his cock) declaration of coming out and of loving him as more than a friend. I thought maybe he’d want to call off the relationship and ask for some space. I thought it might just be the event to put strain on our otherwise unbreakable friendship.

I am so glad that I was wrong.

I can’t say I’m entirely surprised that my worst-case fears didn’t eventuate. Jay has been right there with me as we ‘helped each other out’. He’s kissed me and jerked me off and, like I said earlier, straight men probably aren’t going to be as into that as Jay and I have been.

God, we’re a pair of Muppets, aren’t we?

How could we not have seen it?

Except…Jay did, didn’t he? He admitted that he’s known he’s had feelings for me —or at least a crush on me— since we were kids. My heart hurts that he thought he had to hide those feelings, that he never felt quite comfortable enough saying something…but, at the same time, I get it.

When we were kids, we didn’t have the same self-confidence as we do now. Being anything other than straight was something joked about on the playground. It was taboo. Gay was a slur. While I want to say that I would have defended him to the ends of the earth, would fourteen or fifteen-year-old me have realised the potential that I might reciprocate his feelings? Probably not.

So, despite the potential loss of time together romantically, it’s better that it has worked out this way. We’re different people to those kids. Life and experience has moulded us into the men we are now. And, without those years and all that life stuff, Mia wouldn’t exist.

I love that kid far too much to contemplate a life without her, and I’m not even her dad. I’m sure, given a choice, James wouldn’t change being a parent, not even at nineteen.

“We are going to tell her, right?” James murmurs, cutting into my thoughts.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s also thinking about Mia, though in a very different way to me. We’ve always just been on the same wavelengths, or at least similar ones. It would be freaky if I didn’t think it was just another sign that we work well together.

“Mmhmm,” I breathe in his shampoo and try to pull him even closer against me. He’s warm, and the night air is cool. Winter is coming, even if winters on the Gold Coast are what a lot of the world would consider t-shirt weather. “Yeah. We will. Whenever you’re ready.”

He snuggles down into the mattress, tucking his head under my chin. “Can we…can we give it a couple of weeks? Just to see how it all works with us? Now that we’re aware that we’re actually in a relationship and not just…pretending?”

“Pretending to pretend, you mean?” I can’t help but taunt a little, quickly adding, “But, yeah, we can make sure that this is going to be a real thing.”

“I mean, it’s new ,” he says. “Coming out. Telling Mia. Telling our parents. Our friends. Colleagues…”

I give him a squeeze and a gentle “ Shh .” Then I press my lips to the shell of his ear, revelling in the tremble of anticipation that shoots through him. “Nobody’s opinion on our sexuality or our relationship matters, baby. Not even Mia’s. It doesn’t .” I insist when I feel him tense up. “Yes, Mia will be affected by us being together, but when have either of us ever not put her first? She will always be the priority for you, and for me. It doesn’t make any difference if we’re best friends or boyfriends. And our parents? Well,” I consider how mine might react —surprise? confusion?— and I know in my gut that they’ll support us even if they don’t understand it. James’ parents will be the same way. “They might need some time to wrap their heads around it, but they love us. Both of us. They’ll probably be happy that we’re not doomed to bachelorhood after all.”

Letting out a shaky breath, James nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s true. It just…it feels like a big deal. Like…like I’ve been lying to everyone about who I really am.”

“You haven’t.”

“But—”

“You were a kid, James. Everyone goes through random crushes in their teens. I had a thing for Lola Bunny for a while.”

“You…what?”

“The point is,” I steamroll over the question, not needing to delve deeper into that embarrassing topic, “sexuality is fluid. I’ve read heaps of stories online about men not realising they like other men until they hit their fifties. Fifties , Jay. We’re babies in comparison to that.” Giving him an affectionate nudge with my nose, I finish with, “No matter what, we’ve got each other’s backs, just like we always have. That’s not going to change.”

***

“You’re sure about this?” James asks.

It has been the longest three days of my life. Three days since I declared my not-so-platonic love for my best friend. Three days since his teenage daughter cockblocked us from consummating our suddenly not-actually-fake relationship. Three days since I told James I wanted him to fuck me and then had to sleep with him in my arms without any sexy touches.

Three days of torture .

It’s almost like my body and my brain have been on pins and needles, having the permission to do all the things with the man I love, only to not have the opportunity to act on my newfound freedom.

Between work commitments and Mia’s after-school drama club stuff, getting a moment alone with James where we haven’t been some form of exhausted has been impossible.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Mia is sleeping over at a friend’s house. Tonight, James and I went on our first official date. Tonight, we have been flirting and teasing each other with light touches and ‘come hither’ eyes.

Tonight, I am splayed out in the middle of his bed, naked and aching for him, and he’s equally naked and ready to move things along.

Except he has stopped, lube held in one hand and a condom in the other, and he’s looking at me with nervous grey-green eyes and asking if I’m sure.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” I tell him spreading my legs wider in invitation. “Please?”

I’ve showered and prepped already, wanting to make this experience as easy and stress-free as possible. Still, there’s a nervous thrum under my skin, making my heart beat erratically.

This is new for me, too, and despite assuring James that we can make it work if this is a bust, I do worry that maybe we can’t. That maybe he’ll miss having a warm body to sink inside — or maybe even I will. On top of that, I’ve never had a dick inside me before. One of my ex girlfriends liked to play with my prostate when she was blowing me, but Jay’s dick is much, much bigger than her slender fingers were.

Since I had my revelation that our relationship is real, I have been playing with myself, though. I haven’t gone far enough to fuck myself on a fake cock, but I bought a set of plugs and tried stretching myself out with them.

It…wasn’t my favourite thing ever. But then, I’ve always enjoyed sex more with a partner. Even jerking off on my own isn’t as appealing. Isn’t that what drove me to start the whole FWBs thing to begin with?

Maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me something from the very beginning.

So, yeah…I really want this to work out. I want tonight to be a success. I want—

“You’re sure?”

“Jesus, Jay, I’m not some fifteen-year-old virgin. Get in bed and fuck me already.”

“Can we not mention teenagers and fucking in the same sentence?” He complains, but starts crawling up from the foot of the bed, bringing his treasures with him.

I grab for him when he’s within arm’s reach and haul him down for a kiss, all my synapses lighting up at the feel of his naked skin rubbing against mine.

I love our contrasts.

He’s pale and soft where I’m darker-toned and lean, his body hair light in colour and coverage where mine is dark and a bit more generous.

I discovered weeks ago that I love threading my fingers into his thick, mid-length hair, fascinated by the sensation seeing as I keep my own head shaved smooth (a curse of male-pattern baldness striking me in my late twenties, I’m afraid).

He has very light stubble, seeing as he shaves every morning, while I’ve got a beard and am contemplating growing it out from the short, neat style I keep it in.

We’re yin and yang, and yet somehow we are so in sync that our parents used to joke that we were twins separated at birth.

That would make what we’re about to do really taboo, I suppose.

Not that I’d ever judge someone’s kinks. You do you, and all that jazz.

Focus, Evan.

As our leaking cocks rub together, I wind my legs around his hips, arching my back and moaning into our kiss. Any more teasing and I think I really might implode.

“What do I do here?” He asks through panted breaths. “And I swear to God, if you give me some smart-arse answer…”

I chuckle into the hanging silence of his unspoken threat and peck another kiss to his lips. “You know me too well.” Before he can pull away, I give him the proper answer. “Condom on, lube up. Use the excess to stretch me out a little more — I did a bit of prep when I, uh, freshened up, but…” I lick my lips, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

There are so many things I want to tell him. Things he already knows, like the fact that I’ve never done this before, like how much bigger his cock is than a couple of feminine fingers, like how badly I want to feel his fingers inside me, wanting to experience as much of him as possible tonight in case…

In case this doesn’t work out.

“You’ll tell me if I’m doing it wrong?”

“Baby,” my heart thuds almost painfully at the earnest, vulnerable look on his face, “nothing you do to me could be wrong.”

James sits back on his heels, forcing my legs to fall from their perch on his hips. I prop up on my elbows to greedily watch him rolling the condom over his dick, then swallow as he drizzles lube over his sheathed length and strokes.

“Fuck,” I mutter, eyes glued to the motion, “that’s hotter than any of the porn I’ve been watching.”

A self-conscious blush spreads over his cheeks, then travels down his neck and the top of his chest. “I’m not exactly built like a pornstar.” He gestures to the soft swell of his stomach. He describes his pooch as dad bod or a beer belly. I just think it makes him way more comfortable to cuddle.

I scoff. “They’re not all cut abs and stuff,” I tell him, thinking of the bears I’ve taken a liking to. “Besides, you’re more than hung like one.”

His blush gets deeper.

He’s so fucking adorable.

I wriggle my hips. “Step two, baby. Don’t skimp on the forepl—oh, God, yes.”

My eyes practically roll back in their sockets as he takes his lubed fingers to my hole, tentatively rubbing at the rim before easing two in at once.

All I can think is ‘Holy fuck, my best friend is inside me.’

Because, holy fuck, James is inside me.

As expected, his two fingers are a lot thicker than my ex’s were. More cautious and exploratory, too. He takes his time, pushing them in slowly, scissoring them and curling them and—

“Holy mother of—fucking fuck,” I cry , seeing stars as he strokes over that spot.

“Oh, Ev, Jesus…” he murmurs, stroking my prostate again, “look at you.”

I can’t. Firstly, because my eyes are squeezed shut. Secondly, because there’s no mirror on the ceiling, and as much as I might joke that we share a brain, I can’t see what he’s seeing.

“You feel so tight and hot,” he continues, still prodding at the magic button he’s found. The constant stimulation is bordering on torture, but I’m enjoying it too much to tell him to stop. “I’m gonna come within seconds of getting inside you.”

“You keep doing —ah! Fucking hell— that , and I’ll come before you get the chance to get in me.”

He stops abruptly.

I whine and open my eyes into slits to glare at him.

Jay stares back at me, wide eyed. “Is it really that good?”

“For me it is, yeah.”

“M-maybe, y’know, the next time you blow me…”

I have to slam my eyes shut again at that mental imagery. “Jesus, baby, don’t say stuff like that when I’m already so close.” I arch my back as he starts to stretch me again, this time with a bit more confidence. I hiss at the burn, and he stops again. “Keep…keep going,” I urge. “Your cock’s gonna need more room than that.”

“But it’s hurting you.”

“That’ll pass.” I hope. “Please, Jay, keep go— oh .”

Sure enough, he crooks his fingers and the pain is forgotten as the insane jolts of pleasure from having my prostate played with take over.

“Hmm,” he sounds smug, but I still can’t open my eyes, “that helps, huh?”

“ Nnnngghh. ”

“That’s it,” he encourages me as his fingers keep up their motion, “relax and let me in. You feel so good, Ev. You’re gonna feel amazing around my cock.”

The sweet praise makes me writhe. I want to feel good for him. I want this to be so fucking good that there’s no question about our relationship working out — sexually, at least.

“I’m ready,” I tell him, the words coming out breathy and needy. “Jay, please…” I try not to whine as he withdraws his fingers. Instead, I force my eyes open and prop myself up to watch him coat his already lubed condom with more of the slippery stuff, then wipe his hand on the sheets.

“Just to be sure,” he says when he catches me watching, and I shake my head.

“I don’t care. Just get it in me.”

He shuffles forward and pushes the head of his cock inside me and fuck , it hurts. I breathe through it and try to bear down and relax, remembering the pleasure his fingers were giving me only a few moments ago. If I can get past the initial discomfort of having a huge , thick shaft penetrating me and filling me up, I know it’s going to be good. More than good.

Why the fuck didn’t I practice with a dildo?

“Fuck, Ev,” he pants as he inches inside me in excruciating short rocking motions, “you’re tight . I haven’t…it’s been a long time since I’ve, uh, been inside someone and… oh God , don’t clench .”

“It…wasn’t…deliberate…” I respond defensively. I’m afraid that if I give away just how uncomfortable the intrusion is, he’ll pull out. I’m not doing a good job of keeping it from him, though. I can tell because he stills suddenly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Keep—”

“Evan,” his tone is firm. Demanding. It does things to me.

Swallowing, I open my watering eyes. His widen with horror and I scramble to hold him in place, crying out when my action of wrapping my legs around his hips drives him deeper inside me.

“Ev —shit, fuck, Jesus— are you…” he trails off, pausing for breath, then fumbles forward to grab one of my hands, lacing our fingers together beside my head on the mattress, “are you okay?”

Now that he’s further inside me, my body is acclimatising. I nod.

James carefully lowers his lips to mine and kisses me slowly, distracting me from the remaining pain. I melt into his kiss, the tension in my shoulders loosening. His tongue teases mine, coaxing me to relax further. We groan into each other’s mouths as he slides the rest of the way inside me, his balls tickling my arse.

His hand squeezes mine and he ends the kiss to murmur, “I knew you’d feel amazing.”

I hum my agreement, the burn and near-stabbing pain of his initial push inside finally turning to a more pleasant ache. It’s still accompanied by a mild feeling of wrongness —of my body trying to tell me that that particular orifice is not an intake point— but that’s fading, too.

“You can—you can move ,” I tell him. “Please move.”

It becomes more enjoyable again when he resumes kissing me, slowly easing his cock out and then back inside me. Once he’s got a rhythm going, I start arching up to meet him. It’s still not the most amazing experience of my life, but it’s James, and it’s us , and— “Oh my God, right there. Do that again!” I tear my mouth from his to make the demand.

That . That burst of fireworks in my veins. That intense jolt of bliss. That is why men rave about being fucked like this. That is what I’m going to crave more of.

Jay moves again, making small, pleasured grunts and ‘ ungh ’ sounds every time he bottoms out. He misses the mark more than he hits it, but as he starts to pick up the pace, hiking my legs higher up his waist and changing up the angle, I get more and more into it.

I reach for my dick, stroking it back to full hardness between our bodies as James pistons in and out of me.

“Ev,” he pants, “E-Ev. I’m…I’m gonna…”

“No-no-no-no-no-no,” I whine, finally feeling myself enjoying this properly. “I’m not there yet.”

“I know,” I glance up to find his face scrunched up with concentration and apology, his jaw clenched and sweat dripping down his temples. “B-but you’re so tight and I— fuck , honey, I can’t…I can’t…I’m coming. Fuck. I’m, oh… fuck .”

He stops moving, his hips stuttering as his already thick cock swells and then explodes deep inside me. The rapture on his pink face is worth the disappointment of not going over the edge before him, and I do my best not to wince when he grips the base of the condom around his softening cock and withdraws.

He ties it off and chucks it over the side of the bed, then surprises me by shuffling backwards down the mattress.

“Where are you—” I start, then suck in a sharp “ Oh, fuck, ” as he sinks his mouth down over my cock.

I have to watch this. My arms feel shaky as I push up on my elbows, but I have to see him. He’s uncoordinated and sloppy, but oh, God , his mouth feels like heaven. Watching his luscious, flopsy blond hair flying every which way as his head bobs up and down on my dick is a sight I will commit to memory.

“Jay, baby, that’s so good,” I tell him, torn between lying back to free my arms so I can thread my fingers through his hair, or staying propped up so I can watch my dick disappearing into plump, pink, spit-slicked lips. Then he sucks , and I think I go cross-eyed. “Holy— oh, Christ… ”

He brings a hand to my still lubricated, thoroughly stretched hole and plunges three fingers into me, seeking out my prostate with startling accuracy.

I howl at the competing sensations. The warmth and wetness of his mouth. The suction. The stretch of his fingers. The nearly electric bursts of bliss as he strokes my prostate.

It’s too much.

It’s so good.

It’s so much, too good.

“J-Jay…”

He releases his grip around the base of my cock and fondles my balls, adding an additional sensation to the mix.

My brain explodes. Or, at least, it feels like it does. With my eyes shut —and I have no idea when that happened— I see stars. Someone is shouting incomprehensibly, and I have the strangest feeling that it’s me. Blood roars in my ears, which should be impossible seeing as my body’s supply was being routed to my cock, and I’m shaking, trembling as I come down from the most intense orgasm I’ve had in my whole life.

I barely register the mattress bouncing beneath me as James crawls back up along my side. His hands smooth over my body, gentling the adrenaline shakes.

“You with me yet, honey?” he asks, and I’m surprised that my own chuckle sounds watery and weak.

Did I…was I crying ?

“I like it when you call me honey,” I tell him, the words coming out all mumbled and jumbled.

James kisses the back of my head, then my temple, then my cheek. I snuggle up against his bare chest, my eyelids drooping.

“Go to sleep,” he urges, then yawns himself. “That was…”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I love you.”

Even though it’s even more garbled than my previous sentence, he seems to understand. His arms tighten around me, and his lips ghost over the shell of my ear. “I love you, too, Ev.”