23. Samuel
SAMUEL
THE GREATEST NIGHT
I didn’t understand what I was watching until Benji gasped so loudly that the two guys about to kiss at the BB gun booth glanced over.
“If that isn’t my favorite cousin,” Benji laughed, stepping in front of me, his left hand hovering behind his back like he was ready to push me out of harm's way if he had to.
Pete breathed hard, his shoulders rising, his hands already curling toward fists, but before he could get them all the way up, the guy in the red lumberjack shirt tapped his shoulder and stepped between him and Benji.
“Good evening,” he said, locking eyes with Benji. His stance radiated confidence, as if he could take Benji on if it came to that, but he wasn’t itching for a fight either. “I think we haven’t met yet. I’m Cal.”
“Indeed, we haven’t.” Benji sized him up, then glanced at Pete. “I’m Benji. Nice to meet you.”
“Do we have a problem here, Benji?” Cal asked.
“I don’t think so at all.” Benji grinned—not at Cal but at Pete, who glared back, his lips pressed tight like he had to work hard to keep himself from saying the wrong stuff.
“Perfect,” Cal said, looking over his shoulder at Pete. “We don’t have one either, right?”
Pete huffed, his chest swelling until the white shirt hiding under his leather jacket strained at the seams. Then, with visible efforts, his shoulders dropped, and he shook his head.
“Let’s call it a truce,” Pete muttered through his teeth.
“Our lips are sealed as long as yours are,” Benji replied. “We guys gotta stick together. Birds of the same feather and shit, right?”
Pete clenched his jaw, his right eye twitching, but then shook his head and turned toward the BB gun booth.
For a second, I wished this encounter hadn’t happened at the one spot in the fair that offered literal weapons as entertainment.
(Sure, they only shot plastic pellets, but getting hit probably still hurt.) The flash of Pete grabbing the gun luckily stayed in my head and didn’t become a reality.
He only tossed a crumpled five-dollar bill onto the counter and walked away.
“Thanks, man,” Cal said, his eyes darting to me for a beat. “You guys have a great night.” And with that, he turned around and went after Pete, the two of them already swallowed by the crowd.
“So do you,” Benji called after him, and turned to me. “That was unexpected.” His head tilted down the aisles like he wanted to get another look at them, but they were gone. “You saw that too, right? Please tell me, I didn’t just imagine that they were about to kiss.”
“I’m pretty sure that if you hadn’t gasped that loudly, we would’ve gotten a show.”
“Ugh. I know. Damn. I wish I could’ve seen it. Not to be creepy or something, just to have the confirmation, you know?”
“I think the way they reacted was confirmation enough.”
Benji’s eyes stared into the distance, but after a moment, he let out a short “hm” and grinned like this was an even bigger highlight than our love confessions.
“Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, angry at him?” I asked. Pete had spent a lot of effort trying to discredit us the last time we met, and now here he was, almost kissing another dude.
“Nah,” Benji said, resting his hand on my shoulder. “If he’s in the same boat as us, we shouldn’t waste ammo on friendly fire. Who knows what he’s been through.”
That sounded more reasonable than I wished it would.
We stood there for a quiet second, as if mourning how things might’ve gone if we’d known about Pete and his friend before that night in the grove.
But then the noise of the fair rushed back in—bells, laughter, the thunk of pellets on tin—bringing us back to the present.
“Good for him,” Benji said, tapping my shoulder before he let go. “Maybe this will teach him to think twice next time.” He rolled his shoulders, shrugging off the last few minutes, and thumbed toward the booth. “So, are we still doing this?”
“You bet,” I said, letting it go, too. “I’m not going to let Pete ruin another night.” I locked my gaze on Benji. “The battle is on.”
The moment we sat down in the car, Benji leaned over the center console, squishing the frog plushy between us, and kissed me. His hand snaked down my chest to my bulge, grabbing it like this was the actual prize he’d been trying to win all along.
“I wish I could eat you up right here,” he said, pressing his lips to mine once more, only to pull away a second later.
He scanned the parking lot. It was dark enough that no one would see us from afar, but with a thousand cars around us, we could never be sure someone wouldn’t pop up from a blind spot.
“Damn. I managed to hold back until now. I can wait until we’re back home. ”
He leaned into his seat, but left his hand on my bulge as he started the engine.
“Don’t even dare to say anything,” Benji added when he caught me staring. “You won our little contest. I’ll do anything once we’re home. Just let me have this.”
“I’m not complaining,” I said, feeling my dick harden.
“Right answer,” he said, taking his hand off my bulge to put the car into drive mode, then bringing it right back. “And press that plushy against you harder. I need it to smell like you for the nights I can’t sleep next to you.”
As the car rumbled out of the fairgrounds, his hand stayed right where it was. The steady pressure made it clear that this wasn’t only about teasing me. It was his way of keeping me close and horned up until we got home.
Soon enough, there would be too many nights when he had to sleep without me, nights when a stupid frog plushy would be the only thing left in my place. But not tonight. Tonight, his hand was on me, and that was the only thing that counted.
By the time we hit the highway, I couldn’t resist sliding my hand over and onto his crotch, too, finding him just as hard as me. No surprises there.
Another fifteen minutes later, I finally said it. “Can’t we pull over somewhere and do it in the back of the car?”
“And get caught by the cops?”
“Maybe they’ll want to join when they see us.”
“Or, hear me out, they want to arrest us and not ask any questions.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Oh, is that what you truly think?” Benji squeezed my bulge, a shudder rumbling through my spine. “Because I’ll show you what you get if you keep talking like that.”
“Your cock in my mouth?”
“Yeah. Or somewhere else.”
“That’s not a threat.”
He side-eyed me. “No?”
I shook my head and squeezed his dick back.
“It’s going to be an interesting night then,” he grinned, looking back at the highway.
We somehow made it all the way to my place without pulling our cocks out, but our boners didn’t go away when we climbed the stairs.
I held the plushy in front of my groin to hide my erection the best I could, while Benji just walked, his bulge so big it would’ve drawn anyone's attention if we hadn’t been alone.
“What?” Benji whispered when he caught me staring. “Self-confidence is the best way to hide it.”
The moment he closed the door behind us, we were all over each other. Our mouths kept each other busy while our hands worked fast to strip every piece of clothing from our bodies.
Once we were naked, Benji slid his hands over my back, down to my butt, pulling my cheeks aside, skimming through my crack.
“This feels so forbidden,” he whispered.
“But it’s not,” I said, pressing my body into him.
“So is that what you want me to do?”
“As a token for our bet? No. I know, you’ll be doing that for free.”
“Will I?”
“M-hm.”
“What do you want me to do instead, then?”
“You have to be strong for this.”
“Okay?”
“Wait another ten minutes. That’s what I want.”
“Why?”
“So, I can take a quick shower and get ready.”
“What?” His mouth fell open. “You thought I’d let you take a shower alone now? Not happening.”
He grabbed my hand, grinned like he had won a prize, and pulled me toward my tiny bathroom.
He flipped on the light, a warm yellow glow casting on the beige tiles.
We strode past the mirror, the sight of our hard dicks standing like rockets turning me on even more, and stepped right into the shower.
“You'd better come up with something you want me to do fast.” He said, sliding the shower door shut. “Because since I’m here, this doesn’t count.”
He spun me around and pressed my back against the tiles, their cool touch making me gasp. As if that were the reaction he’d hoped for, he leaned in and pushed his tongue into my mouth, which I gladly welcomed.
Without breaking the kiss, his hand found the valve. A rush of water blasted over him, soaking his hair and pouring down his chest, while stray droplets splattered against my skin.
“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice hoarse, ready to take control.
I obeyed, grinding my body against his as I pivoted. His hands traced my hips, slid up my chest, then cupped my head. He tilted it forward until my gaze dropped to my cock, and eased me under the stream. I inhaled sharply, startled by the slightly cool water.
His hands moved up and down my body, making sure every inch was soaked, and when he reached my dick, he stroked it for half a minute.
His own cock pressed into my ass already, the combination of senses dangerously deadly.
If he kept going, I could’ve come right there.
Not that it was a surprise after we’ve teased each other for so long.
But he stopped, leaned to the side, and grabbed my shower gel.
He turned the water off, popped the lid, squeezed some onto his hands, and soaped up my chest, my arms, my pits, my dick, and, last but not least, my ass. His fingers skimmed up and down my crack, circling my hole.
“How is that?” he whispered into my ear.
“I could get used to it.”
“Same,” he said, and for the first time since we’d stepped in, peeled himself off me. “If you want, you can do the same to me.”