29
Buzz
I spit on my palm and slide it along the length of my achingly hard cock. A hiss escapes out the corners of my mouth at the instant relief.
I could rub one out at home, but Court's always there when I am. It's bad enough he's the subject of my fantasies. Orgasming with nothing but a wall separating us is too much.
"You jerkin' off in there, bud?"
Ramzi barks, thumping the stall a few times.
Shit. I didn't hear him come in.
"No."
"Bullshit. You're talking to a master bator here, word play intended. I once jerked off nine times in one day. That's still the fire academy record,"
he boasts.
"I'm not jerking off,"
I reply, pulling my pants up and struggling to shove my hard cock back into my briefs.
"So, what? I just imagined that schlik, schlik, schlik noise?"
"I think the bigger question is what are you doing sneaking into the men's bathroom? That a new kink of yours?"
He chuckles.
"Who said anything about new?"
With my unsatisfied dick crammed back into my pants, I flush the toilet and fling open the stall door.
"You're seriously messed up."
"That's rich coming from the dude sprung masturbating at work. Not that I disapprove or am judging you. I crank 'em out all the time in here. Just never in front of anyone."
I run my hands under the faucet, ignoring his smug, smiling face in the mirror.
"Okay. So you caught me. Can we move on please?"
"On one condition."
"Why do I have a feeling I'm going to hate it?"
His smugness reaches new levels of smugliness.
"Tell me why,"
he sings, recreating the melody from the Backstreet Boys.
"I Want It That Way,"
which I immediately recognize since I may or may not have had Nick Carter posters from Tiger Beat magazine plastered all over my walls.
Along with Chad Michael Murray, Zac Efron, Taylor Lautner, and because I've always been proudly geek-positive, Dan Benson from the Disney channel’s Wizards of Waverly Place.
My poster collection was a source of immense teasing from Howie, but totally worth it.
I finish washing my hands and yank a few paper towels from the dispenser.
"It's Court."
"That I figured. But what's happened that he's got you polishing the bishop at work?"
"I think we had a moment."
I turn around and explain what happened at Howie's.
Ramzi nods along, like I'm telling him about a hike I went on over the weekend and not that my best friend and I almost kissed.
When I finish, he points at my groin.
"You still hard?"
"Dude! What the fuck?"
"It's just a question. Because if you are, my advice would be to go home and get that situation sorted."
"It's not that easy."
"Actually, it is."
"What? I just go home and say Ramzi caught me jerking off over you. Wanna help me finish?"
The fucker grins like a maniac.
"Almost sounds Shakespearean, doesn't it?"
I bin the paper towels and head out.
"Even if I wanted to, I can't,"
I say over my shoulder.
"We’ve still got four hours left on our shift."
"How was work today?"
Court asks over dinner that night.
I clear my throat. "Fine."
"You sure about that?"
I drop my knife and fork.
"Don't tell me Ramzi texted you."
Court looks confused.
"Why would Ramzi have texted me?"
Shit.
"Nothing. It's just, why are you asking if I'm sure?"
"You seem a little…frazzled. That's all. Thought something might have gone down."
Something went up, not down.
I guess I have been a little on edge since coming home. Four hours is not enough time to put what I got caught doing in the past.
Ramzi's preposterously stupid idea floats through my head.
No.
I could never go through with it. It's too audacious, and also, this is real life and not a porno. Court checking me out and us almost kissing is one thing, me telling him I was cranking one out over him is something else entirely.
Court sighs.
"Talk to me, Buzz. Was there a particularly bad call during your shift? Did someone get hurt? I can tell something's on your mind."
"Ramzi busted me jerking off."
"At work?"
"Yeah."
"Like…in the engine bay?"
"Noooo. Oh my god. No!"
I can feel my cheeks burning up.
"I was in a toilet stall. He walked in and heard me."
Court offers a crooked smile as he shrugs casually.
"That's a bit embarrassing, but who cares? We all do it. Bound to get busted once in a while. He didn't give you any grief about it, did he?"
"Nah. He was totally cool with it."
"So what's the problem?"
I lift my gaze to meet his.
"I was jerking off over you."
His eyes widen for a moment.
"Oh. Okay."
"I was thinking about how we almost kissed at Howie's the other day, and it's probably because it's been a while since I've gotten laid, but that really turned me on."
Court slides his plate to the side.
"It, um, really turned me on, too. I've gotten off a few times thinking about how hot you looked when you flexed for me."
"Really?"
He nods firmly. "Really."
"What…what does this mean?"
"I'm not sure."
He pushes his chair back from the table, and with the way he's sitting, legs angled out in a wide V, I can clearly see the outline of his bulge through his gray sweatpants.
I scoot back in my chair. Court's eyes roam down my body. I'm still wearing my navy station pants so he can't really see what's going on underneath them.
But that seems to be okay. It's my biceps that are holding his interest. I trace my fingers along my black polo, circling my pecs, before stretching out my arms.
"Run your fingers over your arms,"
Court instructs. There’s a huskiness to his voice I’ve never heard before.
I have no idea what is happening right now—maybe there's been a glitch in the system, and we've been plucked from reality and cast in a cheesy porno?—but I flex to make my bicep extra big and slide my hand over it.
"That's so fucking hot,"
he moans, palming his bulge.
"Pull down your sweats,"
I murmur, not wanting to be the only one putting on a show here.
Court's eyes flick to mine, lit up with mischief. And something else. Something that's never been there in all the crazy adventures we've been on over the years. He lifts his hips off the chair and tugs his sweatpants down his legs, leaving them bunched behind his knees.
His white briefs are already soaked with signs of arousal.
I want them off…eventually.
But as someone who grew up loving eyeing off the men's underwear section of J.Crew catalogs, I'm happy for them to stay on.
For the moment.