Tied Together

by Z. B Heller

  Finally, my lips landed on his. They were still wet from when he licked them, but soft like the outside of a peach. I pressed harder, waiting for Brandon’s response. Then he moved his lips in return. I softly let go of the kiss but held his neck in place, indicating to him I wasn’t done. This time I kissed him harder, and he matched the change in intensity. Any lucid thought I had vanished, replaced only with the feeling of Brandon’s lips.

  I’m not sure where I mustered up the courage, but I went further by caressing his lip with my tongue. It was a small plea; I hoped he would part his lips and invite me in. My heart almost exploded when he did. Our tongues met in a fiery embrace, and I almost passed out from the feeling. While I tried to concentrate on the fact I was kissing him, I felt Brandon grip my shoulder. My pulse pounded in my veins, and I tangled my tongue with his, picking up fervor. Our movement flowed in time with each other as we fell farther into our passion. I placed my free hand on Brandon’s thigh and almost lost my breath when I felt the tip of his erection.

  The feeling of falling into heaven snapped when Brandon pushed me away. His face was a mask of fear and confusion, and he choked on his breath.

  He quickly looked away. “I don’t know… this was a mistake. I have to go.”

  Before I could say anything, he shot off the couch and ran out of the house as if his pants caught fire.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and ran my hands over my face.

  “Fuck!” I yelled to no one except the air. I had to go after him and find out what the hell just happened.

  Brad Pitt: Told you so.

  Steve Buscemi: Why do you have to be an ass fucker and all high and mighty?

  Brad Pitt: Because I’m his good conscience, and anything you say is a bad idea. Like the time you said putting his penis in an empty paper towel roll would feel just like having sex. Then he ended up with paper cuts on his penis.

  Steve Buscemi: Oh yeah.

  I jumped off the couch and hurried out the door as I tried to think of all the places Brandon might have gone. I didn’t have to look far because he stood frozen at the end of my driveway. I slowly approached him, afraid I would scare him off. He reminded me of a tiny rabbit hunted by its prey.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when I came close. He didn’t turn around. “I… I don’t…”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” I said as a stood next to him.

  “I’m not gay.”

  “No one said you were.”

  “I think I had too much to drink, and I was thinking about this girl I’m crushing on. I haven’t gotten laid in so long, and it was totally stupid of me.”

  “Brandon, it’s okay if you’re curious,” I said, which was true. Although it crushed me to think that was all he wanted from me. I didn’t want to be the guy he experimented with. I didn’t think my heart could take it if he took me for a test drive and decided he wasn’t into me.

  “I’m not… curious.” His jaw clenched and he started pacing. “I told you. I had too much to drink, and there’s this girl—”

  “How come this is the first time I’m hearing about this girl and you getting laid? I thought we were close?” This was pissing me off; I never pushed him into telling me about his past because every time I tried or asked about his parents, he would become closed-off and defensive.

  “It’s a new crush, and I didn’t act on it because we’re leaving. Not worth starting something when I’d only crush her heart in two months,” he argued, but I knew he was lying. But why was he lying, and why did he feel like he had to?

  Brandon had become such an important part of my life. To think of him not being there tore my heart in two. Even though I wanted him more from him, I was willing to put my hunger for him aside just to keep him in my life. I would be there to support him in any way I could. He needed it, and to be honest, I needed him, too.

  I put my hand on his shoulder, worried he would flinch away. “Let’s just forget it happened. We have new lives starting in a few months, and I need my best friend there to help me through it.” Finally, he turned to look at me.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Best friends. Forever.”

  Two years passed since the night of my high school graduation party. Seven hundred and thirty days. Okay, give or take a day here and there, but the problem remained the same. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon. When he decided our kiss was a mistake, we’d fallen back into best friend status. While I was grateful to have Brandon in my life, I had been permanently placed in a cold, dark, lonely place known to many losers who roam the earth: The Friend Zone. In my fantasy world, the kiss started a domino effect for us. We fell in love, had countless rounds of tireless sex, got married, and bought a cute house with pale blue siding and a white picket fence. We had a dog named Pride, and Brandon greeted me home from work wearing nothing but an apron and holding a fresh-from-the-oven cherry pie, which would have ended up all over our naked bodies—after it cooled, mind you—as I preferred to eat my pie off his naked ass.

  Alas, my dream shattered when I heard the words mistake and curious come out of his mouth. I dealt with those words like the Wicked Witch of the West dealt with water. However, I wanted to be there for Brandon, his friendship meant the world to me. Even if it meant watching him play out my fantasy with some whore named Raquel, Bianca, or Karen.

  Since Brandon and I were well into our college studies, we made a pact to meet on Tuesday nights at Taps, a bar in the Chicago Loop. Brandon was pretty overwhelmed with his premed studies. I told him if he didn’t at least agree to once a week, I would kidnap him and make him volunteer to clean out the horseshit from the horse and buggies that strolled up and down Michigan Avenue. He knew me well enough to know there was no question I’d do it. Every time he tried to make an excuse, all I had to do was say “horseshit.” It worked like a charm.

  I was the first to arrive at the small bar. All the booths were taken by local businessmen and women trying to drink away their stresses of the day. Since Brandon and I frequented Taps so often, we’d gotten to know the bar staff pretty well. Tonight, James was working. I gave an inward groan when I saw him. He was an attractive guy: short black hair, steely blue eyes, and nice muscles. He always made good tips, especially from the ladies who thought maybe they could score if they paid enough. Sadly for them, it was the dudes’ tips and asses James wanted to land.

  One night I’d reached my limit, and my dick needed some major release. The porn I was watching was as stale as year-old bread, and my hand was starting to develop carpel tunnel, which I had convinced myself would turn into hepatitis Q if I didn’t stop jerking off. I talked up James and threw him my gay vibes to let him know I was in the mood for a hookup. I gave him my cell number, and after he finished his shift, he came over for a quick romp. When I say quick, I mean he lasted all about ten seconds. I’d barely had entered him before he was squirting his juice all over my comforter. To make matters worse, his dick was about the size of a cocktail wiener, and that was being generous.

  Taking another glance around the room, I doubled-checked to see if there were any open booths to avoid direct contact with James. Seemed like I was shit out of luck, and the bar was the only thing available.

  As I pulled one of the bar stools out, I looked toward the door and saw Brandon walk in. He was dressed casually in a blue polo shirt and jeans. Oh, but those were the jeans that fit around his ass just right. There was something that turned me on when I saw Brandon in jeans. Perhaps it was because I wanted to feel the denim in my hands as I peeled down the zipper with my teeth. I shook my head to get the image of Brandon’s ass out of my mind. I only made it worse when that thought was followed by an image of said ass, naked, and me plunging into it like a deep-sea diver looking for lost treasure. He made his way through the crowd, giving me my favorite boyish grin.

  Yes, come to me, my little lamb, and let me stroke your wool while you squeal in delight. Fuck, now I just seemed creepy.

  “Hey,” he said as he pulled out his stool.
>
  “Baa.” The sheep sound accidently came out of my mouth.

  “What?” He furrowed his brow.

  “I mean bad—was traffic bad?” Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll be here all night saving people from utter embarrassment.

  “Nah, the L seemed to be cooperating today, so it wasn’t that bad.”

  Because things couldn’t get more awkward, from behind the bar, James took that opportunity to sashay over.

  “So, I’m not sure if I should be mad at you or not for not returning my text, Ryan Keller. I thought we had a pretty good fuck.” He folded his arms on the bar top and glared at me. I quickly glanced at Brandon, who looked like he’ just swallowed a fly. I didn’t think he was used to men being so brash in public. I never went out of my way to talk about my sex life in front of Brandon. I figured since the freak-out the night of my graduation party, he preferred that I keep my dicking another dude’s asshole to myself. My assumptions were on the mark by the shades of vomit green he was turning.

  “Umm, I think we can talk about that another time,” I quietly told James.

  “What? Don’t want your boyfriend here knowing about our little fuck fest?” James stood stock-still, making it apparent he wasn’t going anywhere. He turned his glare from me to Brandon. He looked him up and down, assessing if he was going to have to take down the competition.

  I would hardly call it a fuck fest. I don’t even think it qualified as a quickie. What was less than a quickie? A secondie? A super-superquickie? Brandon’s fist tightened and his jaw clenched so hard he might crack a tooth. Time to change the subject fast.

  “James, I’ll take whatever’s on draft, and Brandon will have a shot of… something.”

  “I don’t need a shot.” Brandon waved his hand at James. “I’ll also have whatever’s on tap.” Then he looked at me, scolding me with his eyes.

  James backed away to get our order, and I faced Brandon. “I’m sorry about that, Bran. I didn’t think that James would be such a douche.”

  Brandon took a slow breath through his nose. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I don’t know you have sex with guys.”

  “I know, but we don’t talk about it. Ever since…” I stopped myself because it wasn’t something I wanted to drag through the mud. It’s like beating a gay dead horse.

  Steve Buscemi: Awe, come on, Ryan. Don’t you want to rehash that night over and over again? The way his lips felt on yours. They’re so smooth and plump. Didn’t he taste like spearmint gum? Come on, Ryan; tell him again how you want to suck his dick so hard it might come off his body.

  Brad Pitt: Are you Wild Bill from Silence of the Lambs? We don’t pull off people’s body parts like they did in Silence of the Lambs. We are not cannibals!

  Steve Buscemi: It was a figure of speech, you fuck twat.

  Brad Pitt: I’m seriously considering sending us all to therapy. We have some major issues to work out together.

  I didn’t have to change the topic because the topic changed for me as we were sitting there. A girl came up to us, holding a beer in one hand, and she had a smile on her face that meant nothing but trouble. She looked like she just walked off a page of Playboy with her blond hair teased high and makeup so caked on it would make a drag queen jealous. The outfit she was wearing left little to the imagination, and her tits were huge. I would say thirty-eight double Ds, no doubt. For a gay man, I had a knack for guessing bra sizes correctly. It was a gift. The blonde strode over, focused on Brandon.

  “Hey there,” she said as she wiggled her fingers at him.

  Fuck. She was trying to sink her capped teeth into Brandon.

  Brandon returned her greeting with a shy smile. He had never indicated to me that he had a crush on anyone, and he never told me of any hookups or one-night stands. Not that I’m complaining; the thought of it made me want to vomit until next week. On the other hand, I felt like I wasn’t fair to my friend. I couldn’t have him, but that didn’t mean no one else should, either. I had to suck it up and get my best friend laid.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” I said in my most sultry voice. “My name is Ryan, and this here is my very handsome friend Brandon.” Brandon’s cheeks flamed. She paid me no attention and kept her eyes trained on Brandon. Not that I could blame her.

  “My name is Nicole. I’m not always this forward, but I was so struck by you from across the room; I had to introduce myself.” She offered her hand to Brandon.

  I knew how to decode everything she said. Guys weren’t that much different when it came to this shit.

  “I’m not this forward” meant she had no self-respect and went up to everyone she saw, hoping to land a jackpot eventually.

  “I was so struck by you from across the room” equated to her eyeing several potential people in the vicinity, and Brandon seemed to be the most gullible one. Plus, chances were she’d already slept with a majority of the people sitting around us, so she didn’t have a lot of options left.

  “I had to introduce myself” told me the introductions were only a formality. Chances were she wouldn’t even remember his name after they hooked up, but this way she felt less like a whore in a constantly rotating whorehouse.

  “Hi, Nicole.” Brandon took her hand, but I sensed his reluctance by the way his body stiffened.

  “So what do you do, Brandon?” Nicole twirled a strand of her bleached-blond hair between her fingers.

  “He’s in premed.” I slapped my hand on his back. “Our fine Brandon here wants to look at women’s pussies all day.”

  Nicole coughed and Brandon shot imaginary daggers at me with his hard eyes.

  “What?” I mouthed.

  Nicole finally looked at me, but her face soured like she just sucked on a lemon. “Is he your puppet or something? I’m sure he can speak for himself.”

  Ouch. “No, I’m just the gay best friend helping my straight friend get laid.”

  “Ryan!” Brandon barked.

  Nicole’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning, and she’s had gotten the best present ever. “My stuff is over there.” She pointed to the booth on the other side of the bar. “Why don’t you come sit with me, and we can chat and get to know each other.”

  Before Brandon could open his mouth, I did the damage for him. “He’ll be right there. We just need to finish talking about a project we’re working on.”

  “Oh, exciting. Can’t wait to hear about it. Don’t be long.” She gave Brandon a wink, and I was surprised her fake eyelashes didn’t fall off. Nicole sauntered back to her booth, and when her back was turned Brandon kicked me in the shin.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked between clenched teeth.

  “Getting you an easy lay; what does it look like?”

  “I don’t need your help to get laid.”

  “Brandon? I know we don’t talk about sex a lot because you don’t know much about how the gays do it and all. I get that, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about women. It’s the same thing. Just different, longer equipment.” Brandon squirmed in his seat. “Stress is oozing off you like jizz running down guy’s leg. Go get your pickle tickled, burp your worm, and crank the shank—”

  “I get it!” Brandon held up hands in surrender.

  “Just make sure you double bag the mighty pecker. I’m not so sure about that one.” I looked over at Nicole giving Brandon the goo-goo eyes.”

  “I’m not sure about this. I mean, I don’t like the idea of leaving you here with your admirer.” He nodded toward James.

  My eyebrows furrowed. Why was he so resistant to this? Most guys I knew threw themselves at the chance for some easy pussy pie.

  Brad Pitt: Brandon isn’t every guy you know. He’s kind and loyal. You should be protecting him instead of trying to sell him out. Be a good friend and help him find a nice girl to take care of him instead of this… slut.

  Steve Buscemi: He can’t do that, dickhead. He wants to bone Brandon’s ass until he breaks him in two.

  Ignoring
the thoughts in my head, I patted Brandon on the arm. “Go. I’ll be fine. In fact, this will give me the chance to go home and study for that exam I have coming up. Come to my place tomorrow, and we’ll work out at the gym in my building. It’s small, but it’s got a couple of treadmills and some weights. We need to bulk you up if you’re going to be a woman’s personal amusement park.” I gave him my best go get ‘em wink. What I wanted to do was puke in the snack bowl on the bar.

  Brandon lowered his head and gave a slight nod. It was as if he were being sent to death row. I mean, Nicole wasn’t exactly a Victoria’s Secret model, but she’d get the job done. He slipped off his stool and shuffled to Nicole’s booth. As he left, he gave me a sad smile over his shoulder that tore my heart in half. I thought I could’ve thrown up right on the bar. There was only one thing I could think of to help me get Brandon and Nicole out of my head.

  “James,” I called. He left the customer he was chatting with and walked my way. “Give me a text when you’re done with your shift.”

  He smiled like the Cheshire Cat, and I walked out of the bar feeling like the world’s biggest asshole.

  I got up the next morning feeling uneasy. I’d managed to sneak out of Nicole’s grasp the night before by telling her I had an early class in the morning and had to get some sleep. What I wasn’t able to get out of was the date I promised her we’d go on this Saturday night. I groaned and rolled over on my side in the cool sheets. How was I going to get through a date with Nicole considering I had no clue about dating or being with a woman? Maybe this was my chance to see if all the feelings I had for Ryan were just in my head. It could be that I had powerful thoughts about Ryan because he was the closest person in my life and I loved him for being my best friend.