4
I sat there with my drink halfway to my mouth, my brain trying to process what I'd just heard. Not never have I ever sucked a dick. That would've been one thing. But ‘while another guy watched.’
The specificity of it. The possibility that not only had one of them sucked a dick, but that the other had been there for it. That it had been a shared experience. A performance. Something they'd done together.
No way, I simply told myself. There’s no way.
Josh was watching me with those big blue eyes, and the look on his face was the same look he and Chase had given me in the truck when I'd asked about the campsite. The you're getting warmer look. The keep going look.
Meanwhile, my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my fingertips. I set my drink down.
"Okay," I said. "My turn." I looked at Chase. Looked at Josh. It was time to blow this thing wide up. I was tired of the mind-games. I wanted answers.
I licked my lips and finally, the words tumbled out. "Never have I ever... sucked a dick."
The fire popped. A log shifted, sending a shower of sparks into the air. For a moment, it was the only sound.
Chase hesitated. Just for a second—a flicker of something behind those green eyes that might have been nervousness or might have been excitement. Then he raised his can and drank.
Josh raised his and took a sip.
I was on my feet before the cans left their lips.
"What the fuck? Are you guys for real?"
"Dylan—" Chase said passively.
"Are you serious right now? No way. You two have to be fucking with me, right?" I was pacing, my hands on top of my head, my half-hard dick momentarily forgotten. “Yeah, good one,” I said, following with a hollow chuckle.
"Because if this is some kind of bit—if you've been planning this all night just to see the look on my face—" I continued.
"It's not a bit," Chase said. His voice was calm. Almost gentle. He set his drink down and looked at me with an expression I'd never seen from him before—open, unguarded, a little vulnerable. "Dyl. Sit down, bro. Relax."
“Don’t tell me to sit down. You two had better tell me what the fuck is going on,” I said.
I knew I sounded angry, even though I wasn’t. I was shocked. Hurt, maybe. But it wasn’t like I was homophobic. I didn’t care if my friends had figured out they were gay over the summer. What I cared about was that they’d kept it from me when I’d thought we were all best friends.
Chase looked at Josh and Josh nodded.
"Look, bro…we've been hooking up," Chase said. "Me and Josh. Since our birthday parties. It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t mean anything—we’re just… fucking around.”
The birthday party. Since Josh and Chase shared the same birthday, they’d celebrated together every year since middle school—same day, same party.
I immediately thought back to when I was there at their eighteenth. I remembered the backyard, the pool, the noise, the crowd.
And I remembered, now, with a sudden, crystalline clarity, the moment midway through the night when Chase and Josh had slipped away together.
I'd noticed them disappearing around the side of the house, laughing quietly, their shoulders almost touching.
They'd been gone for maybe half an hour.
I hadn't thought anything of it at the time.
Now I was thinking about it very hard.
"What do you mean, hooking up?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what he meant.
Chase didn't flinch. "You know, we fooled around, just to see what it feels like. I fucked Josh in the pool while everybody was inside. We got in the water, and I had a jar of coconut oil and we were seeing if it was still slick under water and, well… it just happened. Nobody saw.
After everybody left, we stayed behind and tried sixty-nine."
He said it the way you'd describe changing a tire. Matter-of-fact. Unashamed. Like the thing itself was no bigger than the words used to describe it.
"We're still straight," Josh added quickly.
"It's not like we're dating or whatever.
Girls are just... a lot of work sometimes.
They want you to be six-feet tall, and to text them every day and remember their friends' names and care about their Instagram posts and have a lot of money, and we were horny, and—" He shrugged again. That same one-shouldered shrug. "
It's just easier with a guy. You each get off.
Nobody makes it weird. Nobody asks what are we."
I stared at them. My two best friends. Sitting across a campfire from me in their wet, transparent underwear, telling me they'd been fucking each other for a month.
"Oh yeah? Then prove it," I said.
I don't know why I said it. Maybe because I still didn't believe them. Maybe because the divide I'd been feeling all night—the sense that they were there and I was here, that they shared something I wasn't part of—had become unbearable, and challenging them felt like the only way to close the gap.
Or maybe because some reckless, hungry part of me, the same part that had been staring at Josh's bulge and Chase's dick all night, genuinely wanted to see it. Of course I did, though I wouldn’t admit it—even to myself.
I expected them to laugh, or maybe crack up, slap each other's backs, point at me and shout gotcha and turn the whole thing into another story we'd tell for years.
Chase looked at Josh. Josh looked at Chase.
And then Chase stood up, walked around the fire to where Josh was sitting, took Josh's face in both hands, and kissed him.
It wasn’t a peck—not a short, reluctant dare-kiss. It was a real, slow, open-mouthed kiss that caught the firelight on their wet lips and made a soft, unmistakable sound in the quiet mountain air.
Josh's hand came up to Chase's waist, fingers pressing into the bare skin above his hip, and Chase tilted his head and deepened it, and I could see the faint movement of tongues between their parted lips, and I could hear the small, wet sounds of their mouths working together.
I could see Josh's other hand sliding up Chase's stomach, fingers trailing through the thin trail of hair below his navel.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't do anything except sit there and watch my two best friends make out in front of me, firelight dancing across their half-naked bodies, the moon hanging over them like a spotlight, and feel my big cock respond with a decisiveness that my brain couldn't override or shut down.
And then then it happened.
The head of my dick slipped through the leg opening of my boxer trunks and emerged fully into the cool air—swollen and flushed, the tip already slick with pre-cum as it pressed against the outside of my thigh.
I glanced down at it discreetly. It looked full and firm, like the rounded cap of some mushroom growing in the woods around our campsite.
I felt the cool mountain breeze kiss the exposed skin, felt the fabric of the leg hole stretch tight around the shaft behind the head, and I knew that if either of them looked down, they'd see it.
My huge cock-head lying against my tanned thigh because my dick was too big for my boxers to contain, too hard to pretend wasn't there.
I didn't cover it. I didn't shift. I sat on that log with my hands on my knees and my dick out and my eyes locked on my two best friends kissing each other, and I waited for them to see what they'd done to me.
Because I wanted them to see it. I wanted them to know it was all turning me on.
Finally, Chase pulled away from Josh, their lips separating with a soft, wet sound that carried across the fire like a whisper. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, breathing hard, his green eyes catching the firelight in a way that made them glow almost feline.
Then his gaze dropped.
He squinted. Tilted his head. Squinted harder—and then his whole face split into a grin so wide it was almost deranged.
"Bro! No fucking way that's your... that's got to be fake."
Josh turned. His eyes followed Chase's sightline directly to my shorts—to the thick, swollen head of my cock jutting out from the leg hole of my boxers, resting against my thigh, flushed dark pink and shiny with pre-cum in the firelight.
Josh's mouth fell open. "Fuck, Dyl. That thing is massive."
I played dumb. I'd been enjoying this—the slow, deliberate game of pretending I hadn't noticed what was happening between my legs while knowing exactly what was on display.
I even looked over my shoulder, scanning the treeline behind me with exaggerated concern.
"What? What is it? Is there a mountain lion behind me?" I asked.
Inside, I felt adrenaline coursing in my veins. I knew there was no going back, now.
"Bro." Chase was laughing now, shaking his head. "Your dick is hanging out. And it’s like a fucking horse dick."
“Hard, too,” Josh smiled.
Chase crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned forward. "Did me and Josh making out get you horny?"
The question hit different when it was asked out loud. When it was just my body reacting in the dark, I could pretend it was the drinks or the heat or the adrenaline of a weird night.
But Chase was asking me point-blank—did watching your two guy best friends kiss each other make your dick hard—and suddenly the easy deflection I'd been rehearsing evaporated off my tongue.
I stalled. Opened my mouth. Closed it.
Josh jumped in. "Either admit you want to see more, or admit you were wrong when you accused us of fucking with you a minute ago. We followed through."
"Come on, bro," Chase added, and his voice softened into something unexpectedly sincere. "It's obvious you thought we were lying. Or even worse, trying to pull some kind of prank on you. You should know we wouldn't pull that kind of shit. We all go too far back."