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OnlyLit Link ;)
Brooks and I had been friends since the second grade. His backyard connected to the field behind my house, and for eleven years there was a worn strip of grass between our two properties where nothing ever grew back, because one of us was always crossing it, on foot or on a bike. His mom fed me dinner probably ten nights a month. My mom did the same for him. Sometimes it was hard to tell whose house was whose. There were some people around town who literally thought we were brothers.
The last Summer of high school, we were pre-emptively grieving each other already. We were both going out of state, in opposite directions. We had that whole last summer to fuck around, to do basically nothing together for hours at a time, and only part time jobs adding any real structure.
Brooks and I had always shared beds when we went on family trips. For the most part, our families never traveled together, but Brooks and I were always invited with the other on our respective getaways.
We would change in front of each other, and at a certain time of night, on sleepovers and whenever we were alone, there was a decent chance we would share some porn on our phones and jerk off together. It was never my proudest moment, but it was a secret between us, and I have to admit it was kind of a thrill to me, adding something “naughty” to my already secretive habit.
I didn’t look over at him much, but I know he definitely watched me a bit. It struck me as slightly weird, but since it was him, I never said anything about it. From what I did see of his business though, he was packing a much larger hog than I was. I was a little bit jealous of that.
Neither of us ever said a word about it the next morning. It was just a part of our friendship.
There were two things between us that could have gone sideways over the years and never did. The first was a girl named Kayla in tenth grade. She “liked” us both for about a month, and then she picked me, and I said yes, and Brooks had to sit in the back seat of his own mom's car while she drove the three of us to a movie once. He took it fine, which was in his nature, but I knew some tension had arisen. It petered out over a couple weeks, and then Kayla had moved on to another guy and we were able to commiserate over girls again.
The second was his older sister, who I had a stupid, quiet, embarrassing crush on through most of high school. I never did anything about it, and I never even really talked to her. But Brooks knew, because Brooks knew everything about me, and for some reason that one bothered him too, in a way I could never explain. He would get a bit tight in the jaw whenever her name came up around me. I figured he was just being a protective brother. Either way, nothing ever came of that.
But when Brooks and I shared a bed, which was rather often, he was always a bit affectionate in a way that other guys were not. He wanted to be close all the time, even cuddle. He would fall asleep against my shoulder during a movie and stay there. He was most comfortable if he was at least partially touching me, and I just let him for the most part. On those shared-bed trips he never kept to his side, and I would wake up with his arm across my chest and I would move it and go back to sleep and think nothing of it. He never really did the “bro hug”. It was like it just wasn’t natural to him. He would hug me fully, and that was a thing between us.
To me it was just the way he was. Some people called him gay, but I never really saw it. Brooks talked about girls, and I just assumed gay guys would be super obvious about it. It never once occurred to me that my best friend might actually be gay.
He had gotten big over the last year too. He always played more sports than me, and once the wrestlers started getting access to the weight room, it started to really show. He was already taller than me, and I had seen that his dick was bigger, but now he had muscles that belonged on a college dude, or even older. The dude was mogging me hard, even if he was the nicest guy I had ever met.
So that was us when we were eighteen: two dudes who had spent their whole lives pretty much together, and it was our last Summer together. I figured it would just be more of the same until the Fall, but then Brooks did something different one day.
We were in his basement with nothing to do, and his parents were gone for a couple days. He was on the floor with his back against the couch and I was up on the couch behind him. We were talking about getting with girls. We both knew what each other had done already, which wasn’t much, but I admitted that I would kill for a blowjob. I had only had two and they had sucked, in a bad way
Out of nowhere, not looking at me, he said, "You ever think about what it'd be like... If I blew you?"
I laughed out loud immediately, before I even really heard the question.
"Fuck no," I said, and I kept laughing, and I reached down and shoved his shoulder. "Gayyyyy."
He laughed too and let it go, and we moved on to something else. Some part of me knew that my laugh was a tiny bit of a cover. I had definitely learned some toxic masculinity, and it was baked into my jargon. It felt correct in the moment, but I knew there was something else behind his question. I knew I had rejected some vulnerability on his part.
····[]····
Later that night, we were watching a movie together, basically about to fall asleep.
He was still on the floor with his back against the couch, and I was stretched out on the couch behind him, my arms over my head, and somewhere in the second half of the movie. His head was near me, almost touching my knee, and I could hear him breathing.
Then a sex scene came on. Two people on a bed, only the guy’s butt was visible as they covered all the “good parts”, but I felt myself stir in my shorts.
I do not fully know why I did what I did next, except that I felt him wanting something from me. I remembered what he had said earlier, as much as I had dismissed it immediately. And I guess I just had some affection for him in that moment. I thought about giving him some closeness he had always wanted, even if I had never admitted that to myself before. I needed to “throw him a bone”.
"Hey," I said, and he looked at me. "Remember when we used to..." And I did the jerking off motion with my hand.
He chuckled quietly in his chest, the corner of his lips curling slightly. "Yeah."
I paused for a moment, dropping my hand to my crotch.
"Should we…?" I said.
He was quiet for a second. Then his hand shifted to his own bulge, stopping before he actually touched himself.
"Okay."
What I noticed right away, and what I have thought about a lot since, is that he did not move. He waited. He looked up at me from the floor, and he let me be the one to decide what happened next. I paused the movie where the girl’s tits were visible, and I rubbed myself over my shorts, staring at the screen. Only then did he start to do the same to himself, turning subtly so that he could see me as well as the TV.
I understood that he was watching me, and I let him.
I broke the tension by announcing that we needed some porn for this, and he just nodded. I casted something from the browser on my phone and hit play, and made a joke about “It’s not gay if there’s a girl on TV”.
Deep down, I knew this was not a joke to him, that this was the thing he actually wanted, had maybe always wanted, but I still needed some lightness in the atmosphere to make it work for me.
When the movie played, I whipped myself out and touched it directly. He watched me do it and mirrored me, his bigger tool greeting the fresh air with a string of pre-cum already connecting to his skin.
I rubbed myself slowly, and saw him do the same out of the corner of my eye, and when he wouldn’t stop watching me, I decided to bring things a little closer.
"Come up here," I said.
He got up off the floor let his shorts fall to his knees as he sat his bare butt on the couch next to me, close, as usual. Our thighs touched, and I leaned my head back, pretending I didn’t notice how much the closeness meant to him.
We stroked next to each other for a few minutes. I noticed him pausing repeatedly, just holding himself, like he didn’t want to finish yet. Each time, his breathing would change, and I could see his chest move with it.
He stared at my dick more and more, to the point it was clear and obvious. When I saw him bite his thick bottom lip, I had seen enough.
I lifted my hand and I ran it through his hair slowly, just passing over the back of his head once, resting on his shoulder. He didn’t respond at all, just letting it happen, but his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose. I did it again and he let the weight of his head follow my hand as he leaned into the touch, and I felt how much he wanted to be touched. I felt how long the desire had been sitting in him, and it moved something in me.
I kept my hand in his hair the last time, and gripped it lightly. I gently pulled his head in my direction, guiding him down toward my lap, and he leaned into it, without any resistance. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
I let him move the last ten percent of the distance himself, since I still couldn’t bring myself to actually put my dick into my friend’s mouth. He had been guided enough, and grabbed my dick with his hand, moving his lips to the head of my rod and licking it like it was a popsicle.
I immediately loved the sensation, closing my eyes as the sexual imagery bombarded my brain, the intensity too powerful for someone with my lack of experience.
“Fuck, dude,” I said.
He dropped lower and took me into his mouth, quickly rolling his tongue around my meat in circles, and I finally understood what a blowjob was supposed to feel like. Everything below my stomach lit up at once and narrowed to a single point of warmth and pressure, and my hand tightened in his hair on its own. My head went back against the top of the couch.
“That feels so good,” I said. And he still didn’t respond. He was finally getting what he wanted.
My breath stopped for a moment, and then came back uneven. I heard myself make sounds I hadn’t made before like I was having a seizure. My free hand found his body and I rubbed him where I could reach, feeling him lean in to every part that I made contact with, while his head bobbed on me.
I had done this twice before, both times with girls, and it was not their fault but neither of them had had any idea what they were doing. I had spent both experiences waiting politely for it to be over. As Brooks tackled my log like a seasoned lumberjack, all I thought in my head was, I guess it really does take a man.
Suffice it to say, it was the best feeling of my life up to that point. About twenty-five seconds in, I was done.
“I about to cum,” I said quietly.
He kept his pace the same and milked me out onto his tongue, my orgasm hitting me in waves as he carefully stroked the sensitive parts of me, knowing exactly what to do, my whole body pulling tight and then letting go all at once while my hand held his head where it was.
He sat back on his heels, next to me on the couch. He was flushed, and his lips were a little swollen, and I noticed, in the middle of everything, that he had stopped touching himself, keeping his whole focus on me the entire time. His hands had stayed on me. He had only wanted this. He was smiling a little, and waiting to see what I would say.
“Thanks, man,” was all I could get out.
I was quiet after that, and he just sat back, pulling his shorts back up, pulling out his phone. It was surreal that we didn’t decompress after something like that, but I was trying to get my breath back and trying to get my head settled. Maybe he was doing the same.
After maybe thirty seconds I said, "Can you go again?"
He turned to me smiling, and got off the couch this time between my legs, down on his knees in front of the couch as he pulled my shorts down and off of me. I slid my butt down toward the edge of the cushion to meet him, and put on a new porn video behind him as he started again, with even more enthusiasm as the first time.
I lasted several minutes the second time, playing with his hair, even pushing him down to take me further sometimes. He was wanking himself the whole time, off and on, and I was happy to see him taking care of himself as well. He deserved it.
At one point, he slowed down and rested his head on my thigh, and I just ran my hand through his hair again while he caught his breath. He started licking my balls and I stroked myself, enjoying the sensation, until I said, “More?” and he pulled himself up to put my dick back inside his mouth. We went through that rotation of edging and carefree oral until I was finally unable to hold off any longer.
“Take my load again,” I said, just as the girl on the screen was moaning that she was having yet another orgasm while being double stuffed by two hung college dudes.
He groaned onto my dick and just before I finished I felt a blast of hot liquid on my feet. I thought something spilled in the moment, but didn’t even care as I held his head down and released a second load of boy juice into him that night.
“Damn, dude,” I said when he finally pulled off of me. “I love that. I can’t believe you would do that for me.”
I guess it took two loads for me to finally get a sense of clarity, and it hit me quickly.
"We can never tell anyone about this," I said.
"Sure," Brooks said, wiping himself off and putting his junk back in his shorts. "But I would do it again. A lot."
I looked back up at the TV, switching it to the movie.
"Me too," I said.