5
The remark cut through the static in my head and hit something real—the twelve-year-old version of me who'd met Chase at soccer tryouts and Josh at a tournament the same fall, and the four years of trust and bus rides and terrible Mexican food that had followed.
These were my guys. They weren't fucking with me.
"I don't know," I said, my voice rougher than I expected. "It's just so crazy seeing two dudes—seeing you two—just, like, make out like that. As if Josh was a girl or something."
"Hey," Josh said, sitting up straight. "Why would I be the girl?"
Chase and I looked at him. Then at each other. Then back at Josh, with the kind of expression that answered the question without needing words.
Chase laughed first. "Bro, you're the one who got it up the butt, remember? You're closer to being the girl than me or Dylan."
Josh opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and shrugged. “Fine.”
"Guys, it’s cool with me if you’re gay, but I'm not," I said, because I needed to say it even though nobody had asked. "But... fuck. I don't know. This is all so crazy. I had no idea you guys were gay."
"Dylan, bro—we’re not gay," Josh said again. “We still love pussy.”
"We already told you," Chase continued. "Girls are just a headache sometimes.”
Josh nodded, then shot me a look that carried a surprising edge. "Not that you'd get it. You're tall as fuck. Six-three with muscles and a jawline. You always had girls all over you in high school. Everybody knew you got tons of pussy."
I rolled my eyes. "So I got laid here and there. So did you guys. You're acting like I was the only one."
Chase and Josh went quiet. Another one of those looks.
"We got some blowjobs," Chase said carefully. "A handjob here and there. But neither of us ever actually... you know. Got laid."
"We came clean about it at the birthday party," Josh added. "We found out that we were both virgins. Which was embarrassing as hell, honestly. Chase admitted it, so I felt like I could admit it, too.”
Josh laughed and continued, “Anyway, one thing led to another and we figured, fuck it, we'll just lose our V-cards to each other." He paused. "Didn't think we'd actually do it. And definitely didn't think we'd like it so much we'd keep doing it."
I sat there, processing. But my dick was still out, still hard and still leaking a thin, clear strand of pre-cum that had glued itself to the hair on my thigh.
And the two guys who'd just confessed to fucking each other for a month were sitting across a dying campfire from me, looking at me with an openness I'd never seen from either of them.
Their gazes kept drifting down to my dick with open curiosity. There was nothing discreet about it, and every time I caught them looking, a shudder swept across my skin and left me a little hornier than before.
Okay, I told myself. Maybe I could understand how easy it was to want to do gay things with your buddies. After all, seeing Josh’s pert round little ass was making me want to do things to it.
I kept telling myself I wasn’t gay and I’d never even do something that could be considered gay; and I kept believing it, because it was true.
But something about this night—the isolation, the moonlight, the way Chase and Josh talked about sex with each other like it was no more complicated than splitting a pizza—was loosening a bolt I hadn't known was screwed so tight.
The rigid lines I'd drawn around what guys could do with other guys were starting to look less like walls and more like suggestions, and the freedom on the other side was incredibly tempting.
But the old distrust flickered back. "You guys are way too chill about this," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I've known you for four years. You're telling me you've been hooking up for a month and you're just... fine with it?"
"We've had a month to be weird about it," Chase said simply. "We were weird about it the first time. Now we're not."
"Prove it, then," I said, just like I’d said about the kiss. The words came out before I could stop them, pushed by something deeper than skepticism. "Get naked. Jerk each other off. Right here. Otherwise, I know this is just some kind of fucked up joke at my expense."
Chase looked at Josh. Josh shrugged that one-shouldered shrug.
Chase stood first. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his wet white boxers and pushed them down in one smooth motion, stepping out of them and kicking them toward the log.
His dick bounced free—nearly completely hard and thickening rapidly, a fat, pink shaft that caught the firelight across every curve and ridge.
It wasn't super-long—maybe six inches at most—but the girth was impressive; a meaty, substantial cock that looked heavy yet curved upward in a way that made my stomach tighten.
Below it, his balls hung in a scrunched, tanned sack, full and round, swaying gently as he stood there completely naked in front of me and the fire without a trace of shame.
Then Josh did the same. Only, he turned away as he slid his briefs down, and for three seconds I had a full, unobstructed view of his bare ass—small, round, tight, two perfect handfuls of smooth, pale skin glowing in the warm light.
The sight hit me like a sucker punch. That was the ass Chase had been inside. That was the ass that had taken a dick and liked it enough to come back for more.
And looking at it—firm and compact and so perfectly shaped it could've been cast from a mold—I felt a surge of envy so sharp it startled me.
Not envy of Josh. Envy of Chase. For having been inside something that tempting. For having had the nerve to try it, fuck it and presumably cum inside it.
And now, as much as I couldn’t believe myself, I wanted to be inside it, too.
The thought arrived fully formed, vivid and inarguable, and my cock throbbed so hard against my thigh that I almost groaned out loud.
Josh turned around, and I saw the rest of him.
His dick was smaller than Chase's—four and a half inches, maybe pushing five—but it was beautiful in a way I wouldn't have thought a dick could be. Slim, smooth, perfectly proportioned, with a rosy pink head sculpted into a flawless little dome and a shaft so unblemished it almost looked fake.
His balls were shaved completely bare, pulled up tight in a compact, smooth sack that sat close to his body.
Everything about him was neat and pretty and delicate, and the contrast between his small, elegant penis and the heavy, fat cock hanging between Chase's thighs was almost arousing in and of itself.
They sat back down on the log, shoulder to shoulder, and reached across each other's laps.
I couldn’t fucking believe it.
Chase's thick hand wrapped around Josh's slim shaft. Josh's fingers curled around Chase's fat one. And they began to stroke.
Slowly at first. Long, deliberate pulls that made the firelight slide up and down their shafts in warm, liquid flashes.
Chase's cock stiffened in Josh's grip, swelling to its full girth, the fat pink head flushing darker as blood filled it.
Josh’s grew rigid almost instantly, his slim, arrow-straight shaft—bright pink against his smooth pelvis—pointing straight out as the small, rose-colored head bobbed with every stroke. His tight balls barely shifted, even as he jerked himself harder.
I watched all of it—with my heart slamming against my ribs and my own cock lying heavy and dripping an endless stream of pre-cum against my thigh.
Then Josh slid off the log.
He dropped to his knees in the dirt between Chase's spread thighs, the campfire glowing on his bare back in orange and gold, and without a word of buildup or ceremony, he leaned forward and took Chase's fat cock into his pouty pink lips.
I couldn’t fucking believe it. So much for handjobs, I thought. They were already onto the next filthy act. They weren’t trying to prove anything anymore—they were showing off.
Chase moaned. Loud, unguarded, his head dropping back and his green eyes half-closing as Josh's lips stretched around his fat cock and slid down the shaft with a practiced ease that told me they'd done this many times before.
The wet, rhythmic sound of it filled the campsite—soft, slick, intimate—and I could see Josh's cheeks hollowing with each pull, could see the base of Chase's cock glistening with spit, could see Chase's fingers threading into Josh's sandy hair and gripping gently.
I was harder than I'd ever been in my life.
The pre-cum from my cock had smeared into a sticky, warm glaze across the inside of my boxers, and I could feel every heartbeat in the swollen head, pulsing in time with the sounds coming from across the fire.
I wanted to touch myself so badly my hand was trembling against my knee.
But I kept it there, because I was terrified of what reaching for my own dick would mean—what it would signal, what it would confirm, what door it would open that I could never close again.
Chase opened his eyes and looked directly at me while Josh sucked him.
"You don't know what you're missing, bro," he said, his voice thick and breathy. He ran his fingers through Josh's hair, guiding his mouth down on the cock another inch or so. "Come over here and let him suck your dick, Dyl. He's so fucking good at it."
An owl hooted somewhere deep in the pines.
In the far distance, beyond the ridge, a wolf howled—a long, climbing note that hung in the cold air and faded into silence.
Crickets pulsed in the grass. The fire popped and flickered as a breeze swept through the campsite, sending sparks swirling up toward the stars, and the cool air washed over my exposed cock and made the wet pre-cum tingle on my skin.
I was so close to standing up. So close to crossing the eight feet of dirt between my log and theirs and letting whatever was going to happen, happen.
I could feel the decision building in my legs, in my gut, in the aching, leaking, desperately hard cock that had already made its choice long before the rest of me caught up.
But I stayed. One more second. One more breath. Watching Josh's head bob between Chase's thighs, listening to the sounds they made together, feeling the last of my resistance crumble.
And all the while, I couldn't stop watching Josh's mouth.
The way his lips stretched around Chase's girth, glistening Chase’s fat cock with his spit in the firelight.
The way his cheeks hollowed with each pull, the soft gagging sounds when he pushed too deep, the thin strand of spit that connected his lower lip to Chase's cockhead every time he pulled off to breathe.
I'd never seen another guy's dick in person before tonight—never seen one hard, never seen one getting sucked—and the sheer unreality of it was short-circuiting something fundamental in my brain.
Even seeing a soft, flaccid dick would've been a first. But watching an erect cock disappear between another guy’s lips, watching Josh's throat work as he swallowed around the thick shaft, hearing the wet, obscene rhythm of it—my mind couldn't process it.
My dick could, though. It was so hard it ached.
Chase's eyes found mine across the fire. Half-lidded, glassy, his lips parted around a moan that came out low and ragged.
He held my gaze while Josh sucked him, and the eye contact did something to me that the visual alone hadn't—it made it personal. Made it an invitation. Made it feel like Chase was showing me this not to shock me but to include me, the way you'd hold a door open for someone you'd been waiting for.
"Come on, bro," he said, his voice thick and strained. "Just let go. It feels so fucking good. I promise."
Something unlocked.