Chapter 10 #2
It had to be some kind of space-time-warping episode because I couldn’t remember making the move, and I couldn’t come up with a reason why I would bring the red-kissed boxers closer to my face, yet there they were.
The first scent that tickled my nostrils was the softener. Lavender. We used the same one, but I could only ever smell it on Andrei. That was why I started using it.
There had to be more. Beneath the lavender. Deep in the soft, gentle fabric.
I buried my nose in the folds of Andrei’s boxer briefs in search of it.
Cautious not to lose the scent of it, I inhaled it all.
Yes, far too much lavender, but it was there, under the surface, the very thing that made my heart thunder.
Musky and nearly impossible to detect, the scent of sweat and sex and something excitingly new that I could only describe as Andrei himself filled my lungs and my soul.
I drew on it like it was the fountain of youth, sucking in the most I could, my lips kissing the soft inside of the fabric.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
Red alarms blared inside my head, but I squeezed my eyes shut and parted my lips, not quite tasting him but feeling the movement of the fabric against the tip of my tongue.
When I next opened my eyes, Andrei’s boxers were in the basket again, lying on top of mine.
I bent down quickly, panic piercing my heart like icicles.
I tucked his boxers under mine and hoped to God Andrei hadn’t memorized the exact creases and folds he’d left in the basket because I sure as hell couldn’t recall anything.
I stepped into the shower with my heart still pounding against my rib cage and my cock harder than it had ever been.
It ached with every throb that sent it swaying, its sweet pain spreading down into my toes, curling them.
My teeth itched, and I bit my lip hard as the hot water splashed against my flesh.
I could have sworn I felt every drop land on me. It was like being on an incredibly potent drug that bent reality around you. Every sound was a thousand times clearer, every sight a painting, and every touch a symphony of sensations. It was pure ecstasy.
When I leaned back against the heated tiles, my right hand dragged down my torso, feeling every muscle constrict under my touch.
It felt good to wrap my fingers around my pulsing cock, pleasure fountaining through me.
Guilt was like a saw, hacking away at these wonderful things from underneath, grinding and cutting and hurting the very thing that caused it.
But pleasure was inescapable. Impossible to ignore. It made my fist tighten around the head of my cock, sliding, rubbing, sinning as thoughts of Andrei’s scent lingering inside of me consumed my mind. Was it cum? Maybe precum? Could it be so sweet and tender and potent?
Ah, but it was forbidden. That was what made me lose my mind. It was the furthest I’d gone for a high, the most I’d risked to get a little hard. It was only the fact that I shouldn’t do this that made it so hot.
My head thumped against the tiles, teeth gritted and lips pulled back in pain and pleasure, hisses escaping me through my jaws.
I just had to look away. If I looked away now, I would be fine.
Saved. Rescued. I wouldn’t be guilty of jerking off to the thought of my best friend.
I wouldn’t use him like this, knowing he wouldn’t want it, knowing it would embarrass him to even imagine it.
I just had to direct my thoughts to any of the countless girls I’d hooked up with over the years.
Any.
One.
I could remember one of them.
I had to.
But the sweet, colorful, vivid image of Andrei standing in our room not half an hour ago was burned into my memory so strongly that I couldn’t replace it. Not one girl came to my mind. And the harder I tried to remember any, the clearer Andrei became.
He was no longer the real person I had seen tonight.
He was the ephemeral vision of uncapturable beauty that the fan fiction stories said he was.
He lay in a bed of rose petals, flames flickering from the red scented candles, and his eyes closed.
He lay naked, his hands on his abdomen, moving down, exploring his own body, sliding down his groin until his cock and balls were framed by the space between his fingers and his thumbs.
And I was on my knees, watching while saliva filled my hungry mouth.
I came in a tremendous shattering that possessed my chest. Every muscle in my body trembled with tension.
I bit my lip to hold back a cry. Was he out there?
Had he come back? Could he feel himself being used by me?
Did he know I had just made him into a kink, an object, a sex toy for my own pleasure?
The water splashing down on me washed the cum off the back of my finger, taking it down the drain together with my sweat, but the bitter taste of guilt remained exactly where it had been all along.
Because it had been there. I’d known from the start that this was wrong. Even if I were curious—and I sure as hell wasn’t; I was just drawn to all things obscure and taboo—I knew how wrong it was to use my best friend for this exploration.
Tears got lost in the water running down my face, but I knew they were there. They burned hotter than the shower. They carved their paths down my cheeks as I let them go silently. And when they stopped, I washed myself twice before stepping out.
I didn’t look at the laundry basket. I didn’t listen to the sound of footsteps in case he’d come back. I sprayed myself with my deodorant and stepped out to dress quickly, finding the room empty. I slipped under the cover and killed the light.
Thankfully, Andrei didn’t come back before I’d fallen asleep. If he had, he would have seen the guilt on my face. He would have known I had done something awful. He would have asked me what it was, and he would have kept asking until I told him the truth.
Because the thing about Andrei was that I couldn’t lie to him. I’d tried, but he had always seen right through it.
That was why I didn’t go around doing bad things to him behind his back.
That was why I knew he would find out eventually.
Yet with all that settling into the depths of my mind, I couldn’t keep pretending that this was just some obscure curiosity. I couldn’t pretend that the stories hadn’t turned me on before. I couldn’t pretend that seeing him shirtless in our room didn’t tug at my heart harder than any girl ever had.
And fuck, I knew I was going to lose him because of it.