7. Matty
Chapter seven
“ M m, yeah. Fuck, that feels good.”
My hand strokes my cock as I sit back against the headboard, watching the porn play out on my phone. God, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten off. Between classes and football, plus moving into the townhome that we started renting from my parents in the city, I swear my balls are starting to turn blue. Not to mention, by the time I get home every night, Xed’s already in bed waiting for me, so a quick jerk in the shower is all I’ve been able to get.
The morning wood situation is getting out of hand—I woke up this morning practically humping my best friend. He was still asleep, thank God, but the mortification was real. Luckily, he took an extra shift at the clothing shop he works for inside the mall, so I get some time to myself.
The girls moaning in the video spur me on, and I jerk myself lazily from base to tip, spreading my legs on the bed to get more comfortable. As I let my head fall back and close my eyes, though, I can only picture a small body lying next to me with a blue mohawk and doe eyes. Long lashes fluttering in his sleep, lips parted. The way he pushed back against me this morning nearly made me spill my load.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking this. Not about Xed. This is wrong. Clearly, I need to get laid...maybe I should hit up Valerie. She got accepted to the University of Utah just like we did, and it’s been a minute since we’ve fucked.
Even though Xed will flip if he finds out.
Licking my lips, I stroke myself faster, eyes still closed, while I try to focus on the sounds coming from my phone. And yet, the more I imagine Xed in bed with me, the harder I get. Picture holding his body to me while I rut against him, sliding my cock up and down his ass. Waking him up that way, the intake of breath he’d take when he felt me brushing over his tight little hole.
My balls draw up at the fantasy, orgasm imminent, and I open my eyes because I should not be coming to the thought of my best friend.
And the first thing I see is Xed, standing in our bedroom doorway, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Oh, hell.” But it’s too late to stop this now. As he drops his gaze to my cock, I erupt, thick ropes of cum shooting onto my chest, and I grit my teeth to keep from moaning at how good it feels.
The orgasm lasts forever, I swear. Longer than usual. I completely coat myself, a sticky mess dripping down my abs, attention on Xed the entire time.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer once it ends, feeling my entire body flush from embarrassment as the tears prick my eyes. “Thought you’d be working longer, and I just needed to release some tension.”
Fuck, not now. Don’t cry, don’t cry.
Why do I always cry after I orgasm?!
He moves closer, eyes on my cum-covered chest, and my breath catches when he slowly climbs onto the bed beside me. I scan his arms out of habit, checking for any fresh scars. Thankfully, there are none, but I nearly choke when I catch the bulge tenting the front of his jeans.
He’s… hard.
“Is this the stuff you watch to get off?” He asks, looking down at the naked women on my screen.
With a sniffle, I realize my hand is still around my dick, and I quickly tuck myself away. “Sometimes. What do you watch?”
What the shit? Why am I asking? Why is he hard?
Why is he sitting next to me while I’m covered in cum?
“Nothing, usually,” he responds, fingers scooting close to mine on the bed. “I just focus on the feeling if I need to get off.”
My cock twitches at the image he just put in my head, and I clear my throat as I lock my phone. “Huh. Interesting.”
There’s a beat of awkward silence between us, so I chance a peek sideways and find Xed’s eyes on my crotch, a thoughtful expression crossing his features.
“I think I’m ace,” he says suddenly, brows furrowing. “Or maybe demi. Guess I could be both.”
Blinking in surprise, I lean forward to plant a kiss on his lips. “I don’t know what those mean, but no matter what you are, you’re still Xed, and I love you.”
His eyes connect with mine, and an ache blooms in my chest when he smiles sadly. “Thanks, Matty. I love you, too.”
Something about the way he whispers those words makes my stomach feel funny.
There are these moments throughout our friendship, especially lately, where certain things he says feel like they should be spoken in italics. Like there’s some layer of importance there, but my brain is just too dense to figure it out .
Our gazes hold for so long that the cum on my skin starts to dry.
“I, uh...” Moving to slide off the bed, I wipe my hand through the mess coating me to keep it from dribbling onto the carpet. “I should probably shower.”
“Yeah.”
He says nothing more, but I feel his attention on me like a weighted blanket as I leave the room, and I can’t even find it in me to feel guilty when I wrap my hand around my cock under the shower spray, coming to the image of Xed doing the same. And I don’t know what that means for our friendship.