Nine Years Ago
Rafe
Red fills the TV screen as Cam’s character dies a bloody death, and I try not to gloat as he tosses the controller aside.
“I’m sorry, is that five games to none now?” Okay, maybe a little gloating is called for. In my defense, there isn’t a whole lot I can beat him at.
“Laugh it up. When my team plays yours this weekend, I’m going to remind you of this moment with every touchdown I score.”
“My team’s on fire. You guys don’t stand a chance.”
The teasing look in Cam’s eyes sharpens. “Tell me, does it take effort to be that wrong, or does it come naturally?”
I grab a cushion and shove it in his face.
“No, no,” he says tauntingly. “Keep going. I love hearing about how my undefeated team is going to be taken down.”
Cocky bastard. I grab another cushion, but he’s ready this time, and I totally miss.
“Good reflexes.” He laughs. “Bringing those to the game? No wonder you’ve never outscored me.”
“Dick.” I lunge at him, but again, he’s too fast.
Too fast, too smart, too responsible. Too, well, everything more than me.
We scramble against each other for a bit before he rolls us off the couch and slams my back into the floor.
“Ouch!” I hit his chest, but he fights to grab my hands and pin them over my head.
He looks down at me, and with the afternoon sun coming through the large windows overhead, it’s one of those times where his eyes look silver.
Silver, blue, gray, hazel … I can never decide what color they actually are.
Not that it matters. Campbell’s eyes have always been one of the things I like best about him.
I squirm under his weight. “Get your heavy ass off me.”
He pretends to think for a second. “Or I could do this.” Then he hacks up a spitball.
“Do not.”
Cam holds me pinned as he slowly lets it dangle from his lips.
“I’ll fucking kill you.”
He sucks it back up and grins. “I assume you’d have to get free for that.” His grip on my wrists tightens as he hangs another line of spit precariously over my face.
“I’m not bluffing. I’ll end you.”
Slurp. “Bet you can’t.”
I’m torn between gagging at the sound and meeting his challenge.
Like always, the competitive side of me wins.
I try to throw him off me, but Cam holds tight, even as I buck and thrash beneath him.
Finally, his hold slips, and I’m able to roll him over and pin him instead.
His shirt rides up in the process, and I’m not sure what it is about his exposed, smooth gut that snags my attention, but I can’t stop looking.
The tightening in my pants catches me completely off guard, and it distracts me enough that Cam’s able to wriggle out from under me.
“Uncle,” he says before I can attack him again. He didn’t need the word though. I’m still stuck replaying the slight dips of his abs.
Cam stares at the wall, knees pulled to his chest.
I let silence fall between us, wrap around the moment, and try to figure out where this awkwardness is coming from.
Me?
Him?
What’s happening?
Then, he asks so casually I’m not sure I’ve heard him right at first, “Wanna jerk off?”
“Huh?” Holy shit, he didn’t feel anything pressed against him, did he?
He shrugs, still not looking at me. “You don’t know what jerking off is? Just how repressed are you?”
“There’s a ten-dollar word.”
Cam meets my eyes, and that stale energy evaporates. “What? You’ve never jerked off with your friends?”
“Is that what all you Bassington guys do? Fix each other’s ties, then start a circle jerk?”
“Usually there’s some head involved too, but I thought I’d ease you into it.”
My mouth drops.
Cam starts to laugh and grabs one of the discarded cushions that he lobs at me this time. “Don’t be dumb. I’m kidding. About the blow jobs, not about the jerking off. You’ve really never gotten horny and watched some porn with your friends?”
“Never.” Where the hell is this conversation even coming from?
Cam picks up his phone. “What do you like?”
Like? “Umm … sex?” It comes out as a question, because I have no idea. I watch porn obviously. Sometimes. On occasion. But usually it’s because the need to jerk off hits me unexpectedly, and then I click on the first video that will work.
I’ve never actually gone looking for anything specific.
“Oh, this is a good one.” Cam props his phone up against the game controller and hits Play.
I watch him sit back on the couch, spread his legs wide, then slide his hand down the front of his uniform pants. “What are you doing?”
The den feels too small. My mouth too dry. And for something that happens way too infrequently for my liking, my dick starts to perk up again in interest. Cam’s steady gaze is issuing a challenge I can’t walk away from.
So I get up from the floor, walk closer, and sit beside him on the couch.
I hear the zip of his fly opening and hurry to do the same. Then before I can stop myself, I glance down at where his hand is wrapped around himself.
Cam slaps my thigh. “Eyes up front, man. Don’t make this weird.”
I hurry to do as he says.
And even though I’m acutely aware of him sitting there, stroking himself, I try to block it all out and concentrate on the porn. On the two guys sharing some chick.
Which is doing absolutely nothing for me.
I’m left-handed, and he’s right, so there’s none of that awkward elbow bumping, but I’m still overly aware of his every movement, and as I start losing myself in what’s happening, stop trying to ignore what he’s doing, I slip closer to the edge.
The smell of Cam’s body spray is too strong, the sound of his breathing too loud, and when his left hand brushes against the fingers of my right, I look up to find him already watching me.
The heat in his eyes is impossible to look away from, and I’m hit with this wild image of him reaching across and taking over what I’m doing.
I lick my lips at the thought.
“Fuck …” Cam’s eyes slam closed as he comes, and the sight has me following him.
Afterward, we sit there, staring at the porn still going as I struggle to work out what that was.
It’s not that I’ve never been turned on before.
But I’ve never been turned on by someone before.
And yet the thought of his hand taking hold of me is so vivid, I swear I can feel it.
I finally lean over and hit Pause on his phone.
The room goes silent.
I might not have jerked off with a friend before, but even I know that was weird.
“So …” I go to say, but I have no idea what to follow it up with.
Cam doesn’t look at me. “Yeah, so I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”
The label shocks my thoughts to a stop. “W-what?”
“Yep, pretty sure.” He wipes his hand on the tails of his school shirt before tucking it back in and grabbing his bag. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. See you at the game this weekend.”
I watch him leave with no fucking clue what just happened.