by Tina T. Kove
The lube bottle squirted loudly.
‘Have to buy a new one,’ Tarjei said. ‘It’s almost empty.’ He managed to squirt some more out, and then he was back up against me. He used his knee to lift my foot, then put his fingers to my hole.
I moaned, eyes closing as I enjoyed being breached.
‘Do it quick. I want your dick in me.’ I didn’t mind if it burned. In fact, I liked that it did, just a little bit.
Tarjei chuckled, teeth scraping against my neck.
‘Okay then.’
And he fucked me with two fingers for a little while, before he exchanged them for something a lot better.
‘Ahh, yeah.’ I reached behind me to grab onto his neck as his cock sank into me. It was so good and so familiar. I’d been in close contact with Tarjei’s dick for over four years and I knew exactly how well it fit inside me. How good it felt, how good he was at making me crazy, at making me beg, at making me come.
By reaching back as I did, it hurt my ribs, but the feel of his cock stretching my arse open outdid everything else. What was some pain compared to being fucked, right?
Tarjei held onto my hip, while his other arm stretched out on my pillow, under my neck.
I wanted to move against him, wanted to push him on his back and ride him, or lay on my stomach so he could slam into me from behind. But all of that would make me hurt a lot more than I did right now—and right now was also good. It was very good. Slow, sensual… Nothing at all like we used to do it.
But we weren’t like we used to now, were we?
Boyfriends… That’s what we were, as of last night.
It was weird. At the same time, that meant I had a free pass to his body whenever I liked. I could be around him whenever I liked. We weren’t sneaking around in secret—though our sexual escapades hadn’t been secret at all for years. Maybe never.
The head of his dick brushed against my prostate and everything else fell away. All that mattered was he hit that spot again. Over and over and over. And he did. Because Tarjei knew what I liked, knew what angle to go, knew how to make me go mad with lust.
His cock slid so easily in and out of me, fit so perfectly.
My breath stuttered as he nailed that wonderful spot head-on. My ribs ached again now, but fuck if it mattered. I came hard—and with no warning. I simply shot my load all over the sheets in front of me, and I was pretty sure some went over to land on the floor.
I collapsed bonelessly against him.
He pulled out of me, I heard the condom snap off, then he wanked off against my arse. He came on my skin; spurts of warm, white, thick semen landed on me. Dripping from me to the sheets.
‘You have to change the sheets.’ I chuckled breathlessly.
‘Small price to pay for this.’
He dropped onto his back at my side, which meant I could finally stretch out on my back too. I put my hands on my stomach, tenderly feeling my ribs.
He watched as I flinched. ‘I hurt you, didn’t I?’
‘As you said, a small price to pay.’ I threw him a grin.
‘There it is.’ He smiled back.
‘What is?’
‘That grin. Haven’t seen it in a while.’
Oh. Well, I hadn’t had much to grin about lately. Hadn’t had anything to feel happy about. I still didn’t—except for this, anyway. Hopefully, I wouldn’t regret it. Right now, at least, it felt right.
Speaking of which… sex was easy. Sex was what we’d done for all these years. But what now? A relationship contained so much more than sex. Where did we go from here?
‘Hey.’
‘Hmm?’ His voice brought me out of my thoughts, and I turned my head to look at him.
‘Don’t freak out.’ He wore a worried expression. ‘Please don’t freak out.’
‘I’m not freaking out.’
‘Oh yeah? You seemed like you were pretty freaked out for a minute there.’
To be honest, so do he. But he was probably freaking out because he thought I was freaking out. Because he was the one who wanted to be more than friends, and I didn’t. Not to begin with.
‘I just don’t know what to do,’ I admitted.
‘What do you mean?’ He frowned.
‘You know… I’m not exactly boyfriend material. Besides sex, which is the only thing I’m good at, what do I do?’
‘You do whatever you want to do.’ He stared at me as if I had grown two heads. ‘And what do you mean you’re not boyfriend material?’
‘I’m a bit of a manwhore.’ That was a bit of an under exaggeration.
‘I think that qualifies for me too, Ben. We’re both manwhores. And now we’re… not.’
That didn’t make any sense.
‘But what do I do, Tarjei? I don’t know shit about being someone’s boyfriend.’ I should ask Alex. Alex had been Andreas’s boyfriend since January. They had lots of sex. But they also did stuff outside the bedroom.
Alex was depressed and cut himself, like me. We had a lot in common, come to think of it.
‘I don’t know. You do what feels natural.’
‘But nothing feels natural to me.’ I sat up and grabbed the duvet to cover my lap. I didn’t want to have this conversation with my limp dick out in the open. ‘I’ve never considered relationships. Everything’s been about sex for me. And now here we are— what do we do?’
‘We don’t freak out.’ He pushed himself up on his elbows. ‘We can start by taking a shower. Then have breakfast.’
Shower and breakfast sounded easy enough. Not even I could fuck that up.
‘I want to spend the day with you,’ he said then, which was sweet and strangely pleasing and also a little embarrassing.
‘So, let’s start with that shower, then.’ Maybe he’d let me suck him off in the shower. If he could get it up again, anyway.
It was Tarjei’s turn to grin as he pushed himself out of bed.
I didn’t think getting it up would be a problem. His dick was already half-hard.
I threw my duvet aside and followed him to the bathroom.
This was another first.
For all the sex we’d had over the years, Tarjei and I had never showered together like this before. Showering was something best done in private, something done quickly to get clean—or time spent to myself if I wanted to get off.
But getting off together, under a spray of hot water, was even better.
I knelt in front of him, with his dick sucked down my throat. I stroked my own cock off too while sucking his. He only had to stand there, let the water beat down on his skin, with his fingers tangled in my hair, and enjoy the ride.
‘Close,’ he murmured after a while and I increased my sucking, wanting to milk him dry and swallow it all down.
His hips bucked against me—and then spurts of semen hit the back of my throat. I moved my hand more desperately over my own cock and reached my own orgasm as well once his dick had started softening in my mouth.
‘Come here.’ Tarjei pulled on my hair, then my shoulders.
I rose slowly to avoid hurting my ribs too much, and let him wrap his arms around my shoulders. I moulded my body to him as we kissed, our lips sliding together, tongues coming out to play.
Our limp cocks brushed together, all sensitive after our orgasms. Our second orgasms of the morning. I could really get used to this whole boyfriend business if this is what it entailed.
‘Shit!’ I jerked back as the water turned tepid.
Tarjei jumped out from under the spray too with an entirely too funny expression on his face.
‘You took too long to come.’ I couldn’t help it, I laughed.
He snorted. ‘Did not. The water tank’s too small in this fucking place.’ He reached into the spray to turn the shower off. ‘There was that washing off.’
‘We got some water on us. What more do we need? We’ll shag again later anyway.’ I grabbed one of the two towels he’d put out before we entered the shower and started drying myself.
; ‘True.’ He took the other one, and for a few minutes we towelled off in silence.
He gave me a pair of his own clothes, the standard joggers and T-shirt, to wear.
‘How many pairs of your clothes do I have now?’
‘At least three. Counting that one. You ever plan on giving them back?’ He walked out of the bathroom ahead of me.
‘Not really. They’re comfy.’ Too big on me, considering he was more filled out than my skinny body, but comfortable all the same.
He chuckled. ‘I’ve got your clothes here too. I’m guessing you want them back? It’s not like I can wear them.’
True.
‘I reckon I would want them back, yeah.’
‘What do you want for breakfast?’
I shrugged. ‘What do you have?’ I wasn’t much on breakfast normally, but two orgasms in a row did take the energy out of me.
‘Not much.’ He looked in his fridge. ‘Fried eggs? Or omelette?’
‘Fried eggs.’
I watched him as he worked, finding a pan, turning the heat on, then adding butter. He bent over as he searched through a drawer for a fish slice to turn the eggs once he got them in the pan. His T-shirt rode up a little, showing off a portion of his lower back as well as the hem of his boxers.
His shoulders were wide, and his tee stretched as he straightened back up and moved the butter around in the pan to try and get it to melt faster.
Why hadn’t I ever noticed him like this before? Because I’d been too obsessed with Nik, obviously.
But Nik had been gone for what felt like forever by now. I’d been shagging Tarjei for literally forever. But never once had I thought about his looks, how broad those shoulders were, how fucking fit he was. Because I was a stubborn git, maybe. Well, that was the truth. There was no way I could argue that.
But now I could get over Nik. I had Tarjei—and we were on the same page. But the fact of the matter was that he liked me more than I liked him. I could start to like him more now I was aware I like him a little.
‘Do you want your yolk whole?’ he asked, shaking me out of my inner monologue.
‘No. Mash that thing. And fry the egg on both sides.’ I hated runny yolk.
‘Coming right up.’ He hit an egg once against the counter so it cracked, then he split it in two over the pan.
‘Anything I can do?’ I hated cooking—and so wasn’t any good at it—but I felt like I should do something.
‘You can butter the bread, so it’s ready once the eggs are done.’
‘All right.’ I did as instructed, he finished frying our eggs, and soon we were sitting on the sofa with our breakfast.
‘You going to drown them?’ He laughed at me as I applied ketchup to my eggs.
‘Hey, ketchup is a must on fried eggs.’ I handed it over to him.
‘Sure it is. If you don’t prefer beans. But that’s a lot.’
‘Whatever.’ I rolled my eyes and cut into the food.
He flipped the telly on and we settled on a comedy show that both of us had seen before as we ate.
I didn’t pay it much attention, to be honest. He sat close to me, our shoulders almost touching. I could feel the heat emanating from him.
I was bloody nervous, I realised with a start as the butterflies started up in my stomach. I still didn’t have a clue what to do outside sex. And he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with suggestions earlier either.
Once I was done eating, and had put my plate on the table, I had no idea what to do with my hands. If we’d been about to have sex, I would’ve grabbed his dick through his joggers. As it was, we’d already had sex. Twice.
What to do now? Should I grab his hand? Should I touch him someplace not sexual?
‘Are you freaking out again?’ He put his hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly. Now that was how it was done.
‘Are you a fucking mind-reader?’
He laughed. ‘I’ve known you for so long, Ben. I can read you like an open book.’
I scowled, not liking the sound of that.
‘Don’t worry so much.’ He jiggled my leg a little.
‘I thought you just said you knew me. Saying don’t worry is like telling me not to breathe.’ I always worried about things. Got all anxious over stuff. Like this between us.
‘You can be quite dramatic at times.’ He tilted his head to look at me. ‘Don’t be about this. It’s all good.’
I glared. ‘I thought you said you wanted this to be something more than sex? All we’ve done so far is sex.’
‘It’s only been a night.’ He chuckled. ‘And sex is good.’ He turned around and threw a leg over me so he straddled my lap. ‘Sex is very good.’
So that’s what we did. Again.
‘Hey, Ben.’ Thomas met me in the hall on his way from the living room to the kitchen when I came home later that evening.
‘Hey.’ I toed out of my Converse and headed for the basement. ‘Sorry I missed dinner.’
‘I wish you would’ve texted me,’ Thomas said.
I stopped. Turned around. ‘What? I hardly ever text you when I miss dinner.’
‘Not just dinner, Ben.’ He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. ‘When you spend the night out too. You’ve been so depressed lately… I was worried about you.’
‘Don’t be.’ I waved his worry away. ‘I’m perfectly fine.’
‘How can you go from being depressed to fine in one night?’ He frowned.
I shrugged, as I had no particular answer to that. ‘I don’t know. It just did. Trust me, I’m feeling fine. I’m weening of my meds, not feeling much withdrawal or anything. It’s all good.’
This didn’t seem to get him off my back. If anything, his frown deepened.
‘Just tell me if you feel even better.’
‘Why?’ What was he getting at?
‘Because I worry. Our family has a history of manic depression—and I worry about you.’
‘Oh please.’ I waved this away too. ‘Jo’s the one who’s bipolar, not me. I’m just plain old depressed, however much that sucks.’ I bit my bottom lip in worry.
‘We all know Jo’s bipolar, Ben,’ he said almost patiently. ‘But that doesn’t mean you’re not. It doesn’t limit it itself to only one person at a time. Are you sure you’re not in a better mood than usual?’ His gaze settled on me, all intense and shit.
‘Yes.’ I let out an irritated breath, though I knew rationally he was only worried about me. He was allowed to be. I worried about myself a lot too. ‘I am so rarely in a regular, good mood that when I am, it’s weird. But I am. In a regular, good mood. This is me on normal.’
For now. Maybe I’d plummet back the black hole I’d just crawled out of by weening further down on my meds… Well. There wasn’t much I could do about that.
It was two weeks to go until my appointment with a psychiatrist. Until then I’d have to get by. If I continued like this, I’d be fine, if I fell back down… then I’d worry. Not before. Because I wasn’t manic. Far from it.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t text you,’ I added, guilt squirming in my stomach. ‘I should’ve done that. I know you worry. But I was with Tarjei.’ I could just as well say it, considering I’d sort of promised him I’d put it on Facebook.
‘That’s good.’ He nodded.
I turned to head downstairs, but stopped and turned around again. ‘We’re together now. Tarjei and I. So I’m probably going to spend a lot of time over there from now on.’
‘Compared to all the time you haven’t been spending with him before now?’ Thomas teased.
I scratched my head, feeling a bit embarrassed. I had nothing against discussing sex in general—or my sex life in particular—with people… but that my uncle, who was like a father to me, knew so much about it, weirded me out.
‘I’m happy for you, Ben.’ He smiled.
That smile left me embarrassed too, so I threw him a wave over my shoulder.
‘Pray I don’t mess it up.’ Because for some inexplicabl
e reason—the same as the one who’d decided I could try out this relationship with him—, I found I didn’t actually want to mess anything up.
I was never nervous standing outside Tarjei’s door, but I was tonight.
For one, I was actually sober now. Secondly, I wasn’t here for sex. I’d taken his words to heart and was trying to do something other than sex.
‘Hey.’ He seemed surprised to see me again, but he held the door open wide to let me in.
‘Hey.’ I smiled nervously as I held up a DVD. ‘I thought we could watch this? I haven’t seen it yet.’
He looked down at the cover. ‘You haven’t seen Endgame?’
‘No.’ It was a film everyone had seen by now. Except for me. ‘I’m guessing you have though.’ This was a bad idea. I should’ve come up with something else.
‘I have, but I wouldn’t mind watching it again.’
I gave him a suspicious look. ‘You sure? You’re not just saying that because I want to see it?’
‘I am sure, and no, I’m just not saying it for you.’ He shut the front door and locked it. That meant he planned on me staying for a while, didn’t it? Then he put his hands on my shoulders and steered me into the living room. He seemed happy. Pleasantly surprised even.
He still thought I was only in it for the sex. Which, yes, maybe a little, but I couldn’t function without him.
I even sat down on the opposite end to where he sat, just to show I wasn’t here for sex.
It was awkward though. The film lasted for over two hours and in all that time, I couldn’t figure out what to say. Should I even say anything? We were watching a film, and silence was needed to catch all of it. But Tarjei had seen it before. He could give me spoilers.
Still, nothing came out of my mouth and though I kept my gaze mostly on the screen for all of those two-plus hours, I didn’t catch half of what was going on. He was distracting. My nervousness was distracting.
This would’ve been so much easier if I was here for sex. I could’ve slid over to him, grabbed his dick, and that would be that.
‘Okay, so, what’s going on?’ he asked when the credits started rolling.