5. Isaac
5
ISAAC
Jamie was avoiding me.
Not in an obvious way, but I could sense the shift in him.
We’d gone to the gym yesterday and neither of us tried to bail, so no one had to wear the gold shorts.
Usually we grabbed something to eat after, but when I suggested it on the drive home, he mumbled that he wasn’t hungry.
He then spent most of the day in his room and didn’t come out until dinner.
That wasn’t typical, but it wasn’t completely out of the norm. Jamie sometimes got in moods where he needed alone time on Sundays to gear up for another awful week at work, but it seemed different this time. Like he was hiding from me and not just resetting for another week.
He barely touched his food at dinner, mostly pushing it around on his plate, and finally ended up putting it in the fridge, saying he’d eat it later.
When I asked if he was okay, the flimsy smile and faraway look I got in return didn’t match his reassuring words.
He’d ended up going to bed early, leaving me to sit in the living room for hours, my mind racing with all the reasons he could be mad at me.
I knew he didn’t harbor any ill feelings about the stupid shirt or the bet that led to him wearing it.
It had to be the kiss, right?
Did he know it hadn’t been an accident? Was that why he was being so weird? Had I freaked him out so much that he didn’t know how to act around me anymore?
Things didn’t improve over the week. I tried so hard to act normal that I probably came across as fake, which didn’t help things. Jamie could read me better than anyone in the world. He always knew what I was thinking and could see right through my attempts at pretending everything was fine.
But instead of calling me on it like he usually did, he seemed to retreat further into himself. He’d even stayed late at work a few nights, something he avoided at all costs.
For the first time in three years, our conversations were stilted, and I had no idea how to act around him. No idea how to help him deal with whatever was causing him to pull back.
Had I ruined things between us?
I glanced at him, taking in his strong profile, as we sat together on the couch playing Enforcers , the hockey game we both loved.
Not wanting him to know I was creeping on him, I returned my focus to the TV, my fingers moving over the controller as my game avatar sped down the animated rink, my thoughts only half on the game.
This kind of silence wasn’t us either. We’d been playing this game for years, and trash-talking and trying to knock each other’s arms to fuck up the other’s moves was as much a part of the game as the score on the screen.
The red lamp above my goal lit up, spinning wildly as the fake crowd cheered and the goal buzzer went off.
Jamie bumped his shoulder against mine half-heartedly, like he was going through the motions. “You play like my grandma.”
“Said the guy who’s still down by one.” I elbowed him back as our avatars reset for the face-off.
“What’s that? I can’t hear you over the sound of the goal I just scored,” he said loudly, cupping his hand over his ear and sounding more like his usual self.
Some of the tension in my chest lessened.
“I said you’re down by one.” I pointed at the score on the screen. “And I’m about to make it two.”
“You think so?” He shot me a smile, the first genuine one I’d seen from him in days.
“I know so.” I made a big show of getting my controller ready, holding it in front of me like I was about to enter an e-sports championship game. “First I’m gonna win the face-off. Then I’m gonna smoke your ass with my fancy moves and leave you in my dust and so in awe of my skills that all you’ll be able to do is watch me score again.”
He laughed, his eyes bright with humor. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“You say challenge, I say fact.” I shot him a wicked grin as the animated referee got ready to drop the puck.
“Is that so?” He turned his attention to the TV.
“Yup.” I did the same, focusing on the game.
The ref dropped the puck and we sprang into action, clicking the buttons on our controllers and using our arms to bump each other as we fought to get the upper hand.
“Fuck yeah!” Jamie shouted victoriously, smashing his knee against mine as his avatar got control of the puck.
“Don’t get too excited.” I knocked my knee into his, returning the favor. “I’m lulling you into a false sense of security.”
“Is that right?” He laughed, using a combo that made his avatar spin around my D-man and dart away, the puck still under his control.
“Yup. Are you nice and lulled yet?”
He laughed again. “Not in the slightest.”
“What about now?” Using one of my better combos, I managed to get the puck away from his avatar and took off toward his net.
“Lucky break,” he muttered, leaning closer to the TV and squinting adorably at the screen.
“You mispronounced amazingly skilled move.” I dug my elbow into his side.
“Hey!” he yelped, jerking away from me. “Cheater.”
Jamie was horribly ticklish, something I had no trouble exploiting when it suited me.
In retaliation, he stomped on my foot.
“Ow,” I said, more as a reflex than because it hurt.
He kept his foot on mine and pressed down. “Big baby.”
“I’m not the one who has to resort to playing footsie with me to win.”
“No, you just need to cheat.” He ground his foot on mine, not hard enough to cause real pain, but enough to be distracting.
“Come on, gramps, try to keep up,” I sing-songed, yanking my foot free from his.
“Fuck off,” he grumbled, his fingers flying over the controller as our avatars battled it out on screen.
The next few minutes were a blur of childish insults, elbow and shoulder checks, and a few knee smashes until we were at the edge of our seats, my left leg tangled with his right one and our arms linked in an attempt to make the other lose their grip on their controller.
“He shoots, he scores!” Jamie shouted in victory when the puck flew past my goalie’s glove and into the net.
The lamp over the goal flashed and spun, the horn buzzing obnoxiously as the fake crowd cheered.
“What was that about smoking my ass with your fancy moves and leaving me in the dust?” He shot me a triumphant grin and pointed to the screen with his controller. “Who smoked who?”
“I let you have that one.”
“Sure you did.”
We were still sitting pressed up against each other, our arms and legs linked like we were in a human chain.
Just to be annoying, I stomped on his foot.
He laughed and smashed his elbow into my side.
The impact wasn’t enough to hurt, but my body instinctively recoiled to protect my organs, a leftover instinct from my player days, bending at the waist and using my shoulder to push him back.
The move put my head right next to his, my chin almost on his shoulder.
Jamie twisted away, shifting so he sat sideways on the couch and slid backward to get some leverage at the same moment I sat up straight.
Now our faces were only inches apart, our arms and legs still locked together.
Jamie lurched forward, his chest hitting mine. The move destabilized me, and we tumbled onto the couch in a heap.
My back hit the cushions, but before I could even bounce on the springy surface, Jamie landed on me with a dull thud , the impact hard enough to force the breath from my lungs.
We lay there for a stunned second and then we were both moving, wiggling, and trying to keep hold of each other’s limbs to get control.
I managed to pull my leg free, but Jamie slipped out of the hold I had on his arm a second later.
It wasn’t unusual for us to end up grappling when we played Enforcers , and my adrenaline-filled brain didn’t even register that I was hard until something poked me in the thigh.
Jamie’s cock.
We both froze, our fight paused as we stared at each other in shock.
Awareness seeped into every part of my being, little crackles of electricity detonating on my skin everywhere we touched.
We’d ended up with me on my back, one leg stretched out over the arm of the couch and the other on the ground beside it. Jamie was on top of me, one knee jammed between my hip and the back of the couch, the other stretched behind him for balance.
His hands shackled my wrists, pinning them next to my ears, and his face hovered only inches above mine.
We were both breathing hard, and the shock on his face mirrored what I felt.
Time seemed to slow down, stretching until it felt like we were underwater, like every move took twice as long because we were being held down by some invisible force.
Jamie’s eyes were dark with lust, the inky blue of his iris so intense it made my dick pulse against his taut stomach. His lips were shiny and parted, his cheeks pink from exertion and what could be a blush. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was askew.
He’d never looked better.
He wasn’t just handsome. He was beautiful.
In a daze, I lay beneath him, unable to do more than stare up at my best friend like I’d never seen him before in my life.
Slowly, hesitantly, Jamie tilted his head to the side. His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, and this time, he closed the distance between us, our lips coming together in a soft kiss.
Holy fucking goddamn shit. Jamie was kissing me.
My straight best friend was kissing me.
I knew I should stop things. We’d been in a weird place for weeks now, but I was powerless to pull away as my brain quieted and time went back to normal, breaking the spell we’d been under.
The kiss wasn’t much of a kiss, more like we’d just pressed our lips together, but it rocked me more than any kiss I’d ever had.
Slowly, he pulled away, his eyes full of questions and his expression anxious.
“Jamie?” I whispered, unable to form more words as my heart thundered and my chest tingled with something I couldn’t name.
“I don’t know.” He licked his lip again, his voice so soft I saw, rather than heard, his answer.
This wasn’t right.
Jamie and I were both straight.
Was this because of the threesome?
Had the tension between us gotten so bad that it was making us bi-curious?
I’d never once had the urge to kiss another guy. I’d had plenty of queer friends over the years, and Jesse and Asa, who were two of my best friends, were gay. But I’d never had even a flicker of attraction for anyone who identified as male.
But kissing Jamie, feeling his body over mine and his hard cock digging into me, didn’t weird me out. It felt right, almost natural.
My lips tingled as he dropped his gaze to my mouth.
It was crazy, but I wanted more. Wanted to kiss him for real.
Careful not to spook him, I slowly leaned up, giving him lots of time to pull away.
He met my kiss with a soft sigh that sent another jolt of white-hot need through me.
His lips were soft and hesitant as he slotted our mouths together, our kiss chaste and slow.
The scrape of his stubble against mine was strange, but the little tugs and prickles only added to the sensations. There was no doubt in my mind that I was kissing not just a man but my best friend, and it was perfect.
With a low groan, Jamie dragged his tongue over my bottom lip. I opened for him on a gasp, then gasped again when he dipped into my mouth and stroked his tongue against mine.
My entire body was one big open nerve, my skin buzzing with desire and my head spinning so hard my thoughts were a disjointed mess as Jamie kissed me with so much tenderness I could barely breathe.
I’d never been kissed like this. Like I was precious and something to cherish, not consume or use. I whimpered against his mouth, unconsciously arching into him and pressing our cocks together.
He let go of my wrists with a throaty moan. One hand fisted in my hair, and the other gripped my shoulder.
Not caring about anything other than keeping the kiss going, I wrapped my arms around him, holding him closer.
The hand on my shoulder slid down my chest, then over my side, and all the way to my outer thigh, squeezing greedily as he moved down my body.
My dick was so hard it ached. I tried to ignore it and focus on the kiss, but the moment was too much.
This wasn’t just about physical desire. I had that going in spades, but it was the emotional closeness that made me crave more.
More of what, I had no idea. Just more.
Jamie groaned and rocked his hips so he frotted against me in time with his kisses.
My head spun, my body so tight I was already on the edge of coming.
“Z,” he whispered against my mouth, shifting so our dicks slotted together, making every rock of his hips feel like he was stroking me with his hand.
“Jamie,” I rasped, unable to say more.
Shamelessly, I lifted my foot off the floor and wrapped my leg around his thighs. Using the leverage it gave me, I rocked with him, frotting against him as he ravaged my mouth with deep, drugging kisses.
I didn’t want the moment to end, but all too soon, I found myself hurtling toward my release, powerless to stop it and terrified of what would happen when I came crashing back to earth. Clinging to Jamie like a crazed koala, I kissed him back with everything I had and rocked against him hard and fast. I needed to see him come again.
He stopped kissing me, his lips hovering over mine, as his breathing went harsh and he shook in my arms.
He was close. I could feel it.
“That’s it,” I whispered, staring up at him in rapt fascination. Once again, I wanted his orgasm more than I wanted my own. “Come for me, Jamie.”
He stiffened, and his mouth fell open, but instead of the silent cry I’d seen last time, a loud, reedy groan escaped him as he shuddered against me.
I tried to stave off my own orgasm, not ready to let go, but seeing Jamie come again was too much.
The pressure inside me reached a flash point, then bubbled over in a wave of pleasure so strong it knocked me stupid.
We clung to each other as we came, desperately frotting against each other as we wrung every single drop of pleasure out of our orgasms as we could until we collapsed in a boneless heap.
When I could string two thoughts together again, I found Jamie staring down at me, his blissful expression replaced by one of shock.
“Did we just fuck everything up?” he asked, the thread of panic in his voice clear.
“No,” I said firmly. “Nothing is fucked up.”
Slowly, Jamie sat up.
It took us a moment to untangle ourselves, and we settled on the couch in our original positions, sitting side by side and facing each other. Only this time there was about a foot of space between us.
How had we gone from trash-talking and wrestling to making out and practically humping each other on the couch?
I searched Jamie’s face. Was he freaking out?
“So, that happened.” He cleared his throat and shot me a wobbly smile.
“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck absently. “It did.”
“Do you regret it?” he asked softly, his gaze on the floor between our feet.
“No,” I said firmly.
He blew out a little breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Me either.”
“Good,” I said, at a loss for words. “That’s good.”
He chewed on his lip, his expression blank.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I hated that I couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking.
“Yeah, fine.” He scooped our fallen controllers off the floor. “Ready to get your ass kicked?” he asked, not looking at me.
I didn’t like that, but I had no idea how I was supposed to act right now. If Jamie wanted to pretend like nothing happened, then I could play along.
“Bring it.”
He fiddled with the controllers, figuring out which one was whose.
“Prepare to lose epically.”
He shot me a flat look and slapped one of the controllers in my hand. “Cocky much?”
“You know it.” I relaxed back on the couch. I really needed to clean up, but I wasn’t about to bring up our little interlude if Jamie was trying so hard to ignore it.
“I’m up by one, and there’s two minutes left on the clock.” He settled next to me, keeping almost a foot of space between us. “Who’s about to lose epically?”
“That would be you.” I restarted the game and tried to focus on the screen.
We couldn’t take back what happened, and neither of us were freaking out. Not outwardly, at least.
This didn’t have to be a big deal.
We’d be fine.