1
JAMIE
It was wrong on so many levels, but Jamie could not pull back the night from progressing along a path that involved porn and masturbation. Neither of these things are wrong, in and of themselves, but the presence of Dylan in Jamie's bed threw events into question.
Inevitably, whenever Jamie and Dylan were together, the conversation turned to the issues that were most pressing, which usually included hot guys they fancied, and sex.
The irresistible topics.
Dylan was first into the double bed.
When he returned from the bathroom, Jamie raised the duvet and slipped in on the side of the bed nearest to the door. "Do you know, you are the first man I've had in my bed? I don't know why I said it like that. I know you know you're the first gay man in my bed. Apart from me."
Chuckling, Dylan turned onto his side; he bent his arm at the elbow to prop his head up on his hand.
Jamie stayed flat on his back and turned his head so he could see Dylan. "I've shared a bed and a bedroom with my brother, at times. But he is my brother, and not gay, so he doesn't count."
Being older, Jamie's brother had the best and biggest room in the house, two floors down in the basement.
"He might be gay; you can't be sure," Dylan said.
"Come on, you know Kevin's not gay. You've met him." Jamie’s opposite, Kevin was a construction worker and football fan. For every femme trait that Jamie tried to hide among his family, Kevin was topped up with masculinity. As much as Jamie had increasingly felt different to the boys at school, Kevin always fitted right in with everyone.
"You can't tell that easily, Jamie. I try not to judge people based on stereotypes and prejudice. But you're right; brothers don't count as a real man in your bed. And back to the original subject: you never thought it would be like this, did you?"
"What do you mean?" Jamie asked.
"You are so sweet and ya know I love ya." Dylan leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on Jamie's forehead. "Bet you never thought the first gay man in your bed would be for a night of doing nothing but sleeping, because he was just a mate in need of a place to crash."
"Exactly, the injustice of him being a friend in need of a place to crash for the night and not my boyfriend. And you're taken already, anyway. In all my dreams the bloke who comes to stay in my bed is hot for me. And he's not you. Although, on the other hand, I can't actually ever imagine inviting a boyfriend home to this house to sleep in my bedroom when it backs on to my father's room."
Dylan, Jamie's best friend for the past four months, had been single when they met, but recently had started dating a guy called Craig. It was still early on in their relationship, and as Dylan was leaving for university at the end of September, it was unlikely to last. Jamie suspected it was more of a summer fling; a good thing while it lasted, rather than something long term.
"Your dad's not here now."
"He is a grown man, he's got his own key, and comes and goes as he pleases." Jamie chuckled. "But it is his house; he could come home any time if he's not staying the night with his girlfriend."
"I'm really grateful for this. It's better being here than scrambling for space on the floor in my house because Granny's in my bed and so many long forgotten relatives have descended for the weekend that even the sofa is taken. I can't understand why they didn't book a hotel."
"For the same reason you didn't book a hotel room: because I've got space and it's a lot cheaper. And ya know I love ya."
"Yeah. Thanks again for having me."
"I haven't yet," Jamie replied.
"In your dreams, big boy."
Jamie gave Dylan a gentle shove. "I think we've already discussed my dreams tonight, and you don't figure in them."
"Yeah, right." Dylan rolled over. "I know it's bedtime, but I'm not tired." Lying on his back looking up at the ceiling, Dylan fidgeted on his side of the bed. "I don't know about you, but I'm wide awake."
"What do you normally do to get you to sleep?" Jamie barely feigned ignorance.
"Are you kidding me? Are you a guy with a libido? You damn well know the answer to that question. I must admit, when it comes to bedtime, I wish Carl weren't away this weekend."
"That would give you a different kind of bedroom activity. It might not involve much sleep."
"Oh, contrary. By the time he's finished with me, I sleep like a baby, whereas now I'm wide awake. I miss him."
"I know." Jamie hoped he sounded sympathetic.
"You don't know. You can't know. I'm getting used to having regular and frequent sex, with another person. You'll only know when you have that."
Dylan was right. Newly out, Jamie's experience with actual real men, in the flesh and hands-on, was limited. No need to point it out.
"And I'm used to imagining sex. Frequently. Even if I'm on my own at the time."
The men chuckled.
They'd talked about sex many times before, but this was the first time Jamie's best friend forever settled in bed to stay the night at the same time.
Forever meant since the beginning of time.
Time began when his life began, for real, just months earlier, when Jamie came out to his friends, work colleagues, and almost everyone who knew him. Everyone except his family, of course. It was around that time he had met Dylan via an online LGBT forum after they realized they lived in the same town.
Though similar ages, Jamie thought Dylan seemed so very much more experienced and worldly.
"We could do some gaming but that eats up the time and we’ll be sucked into tomorrow without getting any sleep. We could watch TV or a film or YouTube."
"As this is my first time in your house, I think you should treat me to view your porn collection or whatever you've got on subscription."
Jamie swung his head around to gawp at Dylan. Watch porn in bed. With a guy. Was he serious? Jamie was too surprised to ask.
Dylan sat up and plumped up his pillows. "So, do you have any porn we can watch? Or, shall I rephrase that because I know you must have porn. What I mean to say is, shall we watch porn?"
Watching porn in bed with another gay man.
Jamie doubted this was a good idea.
Watching porn with a mate, while they sat in chairs, and would go separate ways afterward, well, was one thing. Flicking through clips, commenting on the action, on all the guys, and on the furniture in the background, all seemed a reasonable pastime. But watching it in bed—together—was another thing entirely.
"Don't you think it could get a bit weird watching porn in bed?"
"No, obviously I don't, or I wouldn't have suggested it. But if you're not happy about it that's fine."
"Well, you've got a boyfriend."
"Having a boyfriend doesn't mean I can't watch porn. I mean, it's not something we discussed, but I'm not sure why I'd be expected to stop watching it."
"What would he think about you looking at porn in bed with another man?" Jamie asked.
"When you put it like that it sounds different to what I had in mind. I wasn't suggesting we make physical contact. I'm just talking about watching gay porn with my best mate like we've done loads of times before. The bed doesn't figure in it. If it bothers you, perhaps we shouldn't."
"No. It's okay." Jamie got out of the bed and turned on his computer in the corner of the room. He could have picked up his tablet, but they'd have to get close together to watch it, and his gaming computer had a massive screen. Actually, it had several screens set up, but they only needed one.
In one insightful comment, Dylan identified the problem. It wasn't the porn, or the friendship, or the boyfriend; it was the bed that made Jamie uncertain about the wisdom of the idea.
"So you're sure Kevin won't hear us, he won't know I'm here from down there in the basement?"
"That's right," Jamie said while he unplugged the headphones and turned on speakers, adjusting the volume to low.
"But if your dad comes back, will he object to you having a bloke in your room?"
Jamie turned and put his hands on his hips. "What exactly are you trying to insinuate? It's not as if I've invited a bloke back for a one night stand, and as far as he's concerned you're just a mate, which happens to be correct anyway. And Dad and Kevin have no idea I'm gay."
Dylan tilted his head down and stared at Jamie with an are you absolutely sure look all over his face. He said, "Have they got eyesight? Not that I'm trying to be prejudiced against blind people, but I don't know how they miss it."
"Listen to you," Jamie screeched and then cringed at just how high pitched his voice sounded. He consciously lowered it an octave before continuing. "Now who's making judgments based on stereotypes."
His dad and his older brother both worked on do-it-yourself projects together and drank pints in the local pub. Jamie hadn't heard specifically homophobic comments, but he hadn't heard support for LGBT issues either. Jamie didn't fit in at home, and he was unsure how his family would react. He didn't want to suddenly wind up homeless just because his dad found out the full extent to which he didn't fit in.
"If your dad walks in and sees you holding your boner and transfixed on gay porn, I'd say that's not just a judgment based on stereotypes but based on hard evidence."
"That'd be hard evidence, indeed." Turning his attention back to the computer, Jamie sat down in the swiveling office chair at the desk. "Fair comment. Anything you particularly want to watch? Want me to put something weird in the search terms?"
"Anything, gay sex, gay porn, any of it will do. We can watch whatever you've got a subscription to." Dylan knew damn well that Jamie had a subscription to at least one of the gay-run porn sites. It was a regular topic of conversation, along with hot guys and sex.
The guys appeared on screen and Jamie thought about slipping back into bed. The problem: same room masturbation seemed fine, but not in the same bed, even if they didn't touch.
He swiveled around in his chair to watch the screen and scooted the chair back across the carpet until it crashed into the far wall. It was next to the bed. Immediately next to where Jamie would eventually sleep.
If he had have stayed closer to the computer screen he would not have been able to see Dylan in his peripheral vision. Jamie realized in retrospect that that might have been a good idea. Too late.
If it weren't for the bed covers, and whatever Dylan was wearing, from where Jamie sat he was perfectly located both to look at the on-screen porn and Dylan's cock.
If Dylan had an erection, Jamie would see it.
If Dylan jerked under the sheets, Jamie would see the movement.
If Dylan got it out for a wank, Jamie would see Dylan's legendary huge cock, erect.
He might fucking well see Dylan's cum and the motions that delivered it.
Dylan had a boyfriend, he was off limits.
And Jamie was a lusty perv. Confirmed.
At the very suggestion of watching porn, Jamie already supported a stiffy like a broom handle, tenting his shorts. He was pleased he was sitting down, not still standing up by the computer where the evidence of his arousal could be embarrassing. Further confirmation, if needed, Jamie was a lusty perv.
Or he needed to get laid.
It probably wouldn't be weird if they were both single.
After a couple of weeks of steady dating, Dylan should know what the rules were between himself and his boyfriend, Carl. Touching another guy, kissing him and doing other stuff, that was obviously not on.
What about spanking the monkey in the same room? The same bed? Watching? Being watched? Jacking it with a friend must be close to the infidelity line if it wasn't already over it, but Dylan hadn't even suggested that. He'd only suggested they watch porn.
And watching it would lead to erections and blue balls if they weren't satisfied. Jerking one out on your own doesn't count as cheating on the new boyfriend, but beyond that, Jamie wasn't sure where the boundaries lay.
It wasn't his problem: Jamie was single, had always been single. As the single guy in the room, Jamie sure was overthinking things. He was also getting warmer and harder.
They were watching porn together, that's all.
If two blokes do what they gotta do in the same room, how is that cheating? Surely, you have to touch each other for it to be over the line. A glance from the corner of his eye confirmed Dylan was focused on the screen. It wasn't as if he'd suggested they do anything together, just watch porn.
Watching each other wank, was that acceptable?
Revelation: it wasn't just the bed that was an issue, it was watching each other, but he was single, and he had Dylan in his peripheral vision. Dylan's eyes faced forward, transfixed on the screen.
Jamie felt like a perv.
Ironically, on the screen, there was a solo actor pushing a toy in and out of his ass. There was something else Jamie didn't mind doing alone when he watched porn, but he was damn sure it was a step way too far when in company. Even if petting the poodle as parallel play passed as acceptable, Jamie was sure solo toy-in-ass-play in the same room was beyond the acceptable limit of what two guys could do in the same room. So Jamie had no intention of pulling out his butt-beads and silicone snake. He'd have to be in a relationship to share that level of intimacy.
"I haven't seen this one, so I don't know what to expect." Jamie's voice sounded a little hoarse, which he feared made him sound guilty, as if he knew exactly what weird kinky shit was coming up and didn't want to admit it. He knew the actors in this film were supposedly real-life boyfriends and he'd seen them in other films before, so he felt confident it would be well worth watching.
The guy on the bed was a cute twink with blond hair and pale skin. His cock was hard; they saw it briefly when he changed positions. He lay on his stomach and slipped in a slender white dildo.
Jamie imagined holding on to that toy and using it to fuck that guy. He could also imagine himself as the boy lying on the bed, pleasuring himself in front of anyone who paid a monthly subscription. With an active imagination and very little actual experience, it was difficult for Jamie to identify exactly which of those thoughts turned him on the most. The idea of exhibitionist sex turned him on as much as he liked watching guys performing. He stroked his hard dick through the cotton of his shorts with his right hand and slipped his left hand down to cradle his balls. He hadn't seen this film before. He concentrated on the on-screen action to take his mind off the gay man in his bed.
From the corner of his eye, Jamie thought he saw movement on the bed. He was determined not to watch his friend. Jamie wasn't deliberately looking when he noticed Dylan push the sheets back with the one hand that wasn't inside his black underpants. A slither of stomach was visible where his gray T-shirt had ridden up.
On the screen, a guy entered the bedroom to discover the twink in this position and commented on the action starting without him. Conveniently, the new man also happened to be naked, hard, and ready for action. The toy was cast to one side and forgotten as blond moved his focus to blowing the boyfriend.
The sounds of wet suction and erotic moaning emerged from the speakers. At the same time, Jamie felt the cold dampness against his hand as the precum started to soak through the front of his shorts. He wanted to free his dick for comfort and pleasure. Dylan was in the same predicament.
One of them was going to have to go first. Jamie took the bull by the horn, so to speak. He carefully raised the elasticated waistband and eased it over the top of his erection, telling himself not to make a big deal out of it. Imagine you're on your own, because masturbating to porn is a solo activity.
The attempted subtle approach didn't work. Without raising himself off the seat, thereby making it obvious, the waistband only went down so far and, if it were tight enough, its natural resting place would sever Jamie's dick in half.
Jamie was going to have to get his backside out of the chair and push his shorts down properly. So he did. He stood up and confidently pushed his shorts down to his knees and sat down again abruptly.
In response to movement on the bed, Jamie almost turned his head completely to watch Dylan free his dick from the confines of his underpants as well.
Fortunately, the porn was just as hot.
The blond twink demonstrated expert cocksucking skills while the boyfriend spoke dirty. The talking turned Jamie on more. If he were there with those guys, in real life, he wasn't sure which he'd rather do. Have the twink suck his dick like that?
"Good choice of film."
Jamie's hand froze. He hadn't expected Dylan to speak, creating that connection between them. Reminding them that they were in the same room, with their pants down.
He turned his head completely before he thought twice about doing so, but his eyes became transfixed on the sight of Dylan's cock in his hand before he got to looking at Dylan.
"My God, D. The legends are true. That package isn't due to extra padding, is it."
Dylan grinned with pride. Or at least Jamie thought he should do, if only he could look Dylan in the face instead of stare at his cock.
"Eyes on the screen, Jamie, I'm not the show."
"You could be in a film yourself with something that size."
"I bet you say that to all the boys."
"You know damn well all the boys haven't been around here, not yet. I'm just practicing the right lines for when I get the chance to use them."
"Yeah, lines like that are what the boys want to hear. But I'm not here to give you a show."
"Good job, you're reminding me." Jamie hoped it came out as a joke because the thought was genuine, he could so easily have continued watching Dylan handling his cock.
On-screen, the couple moved around. Twink on his knees and the boyfriend behind him.
Getting ready for a fucking position, something Jamie hadn't ever done.
The thought of it filled Jamie with mixed feelings of excitement and fear and confusion.
In the porn he watched, it sometimes looked hot and sexy and sometimes quite the opposite. There were times when Jamie worried that he wouldn't want to do it either way round and wouldn't be able to keep a boyfriend because of that. Other days he'd watch guys fucking and totally wish it were him, unsure whether he preferred to top or bottom.
Through research, by spending a little too much time watching gay porn, he had worked out that the films that made gay sex look like the best thing since Christmas pudding were the films that featured genuine boyfriends. They showed tenderness and caring as well as sex.
In fact, that was why Jamie had chosen this film. He didn't want to pick one he'd seen before because that would be like confessing what turned him on the most to Dylan. So he had picked a film he hadn't seen, but that featured a couple of actors who he already knew were real life boyfriends.
"Nice pace. I wouldn't mind feeling him behind me holding onto me like that."
This time, Jamie didn't turn to look at Dylan, although he was aware of Dylan's hand moving very slowly up and down his shaft. Peripheral vision enabled.
And he was reminded of many conversations in which Dylan had said he preferred bottoming. Jamie's mind transformed the characters on the screen so that it was Dylan bent over a pillow moaning with pleasure and, even worse, Jamie was behind him, squeezing his fingers into to the skin around Dylan's hips. Fucking as if he'd done it before.
Jamie hadn't. And Dylan knew it.
Gross.
This was not the image Jamie wanted in his mind.
Not imagining him fucking his friend while getting off.
He tried to avoid looking at Dylan. He really tried. He focused on the guys on screen. Their voices, bodies, faces. Because the thought of Jamie fucking Dylan was a passion killer.
Except it wasn't.
Precum leaked from Jamie's dick like the water pouring from the broken roof gutter when they had too much rain. Jamie was one stroke away from a sticky mess, but what would he do then? Watch Dylan finish? He'd rather it was the other way around. He'd focus and stay in control until Dylan was ready.
"Hey mate, I should have said this earlier, but have you got anything, you know, to clean up with?"
Shit, yes. He did, but he'd have to get it.
Shorts around his ankles.
Fuck you, Dylan. How difficult do you have to make this?
Pulling his shorts up and covering his erection wasn't an option, so he kicked them off and walked across the room back to his computer desk. Alongside were a chest of drawers, bottom drawer, paper towel. Lots of it.
Never had Jamie felt so self-conscious as he did walking across at room, bending over, reaching in the bottom drawer, and turning back, walking toward the bed. Head held high as if his wet, hard dick wasn't exposed and bobbing ahead of him.
Trying hard to avoid looking at Dylan, Jamie put the paper towel on the bed between them and sat down in his chair.
"Cheers."
Stop. Fucking. Speaking. Dylan.
How the fuck did Dylan act so casual about this? Or perhaps the real question should be why shouldn't it be an uncomplicated carefree thing?
Hanging with your mates. Watching porn. Tossing off.
All normal activities.
Maybe, once Jamie found someone to have regular sex with—a boyfriend, or even a fuck buddy, or frequent regular one night stands—perhaps then he could do stuff like this and feel more relaxed about it. He knew, logically, it should be no big deal.
Apart from speaking, Dylan had been silent up until letting out a small but definite low rumble. That attracted Jamie's attention.
Finally, Jamie could stick to his resolve no longer. Without trying to hide it, he watched Dylan.
Dylan's movements seemed to speed up, and then stop, then slowly start again as he pumped. Coming. His chest and stomach caught the load, hosed with handjob honey.
Jamie's cock throbbed. He'd been ready since before the porn even started and the sight of the guy in his bed covered in jizz.
Dylan had grabbed hold of the paper towel and was clearing himself up when Jamie reopened his eyes. It was only then that he realized he'd shut them, for just the briefest moment. Jamie feared things might get weird between them as Dylan may have noticed Jamie watching him. Jamie was damn sure Dylan had paid him no attention and focused on the couple on the screen. And why not? What they were doing was extremely erotic and far more interesting than watching a buddy jack it.
There was no reason things had to get weird between them. Dylan hadn't glanced in Jamie's direction not even once. He wouldn't know Jamie had been watching him.
Already, Dylan was holding the paper towel, offering it to Jamie as if it were nothing strange.
As if they were in the kitchen and Dylan was offering a cloth so that Jamie could clear up spilled milk.
Following Dylan's lead, Jamie cleared up, clicked off his computer, and slipped into bed without comment.
"I think I'll sleep easy now."
As soon as Dylan left the next day, Jamie knew he'd beat one out at the very thought of what he’d just witnessed. Seeing a man come in his bed, his body covered in fresh jizz—that image was one Jamie wanted to remember.
Never mind that it was Dylan.