LUKE
Abolishing our unspoken bro-gap rule is the best and worst idea Sam’s had.
The best because I’ve hated that rule with a passion for years now and it feels so good to not have to worry about freaking him out when I touch him.
The worst because all these little swipes and pinches he’s been giving me while we’re lying on towels, soaking up the sun is arousing me like no one’s business.
It’s a good thing I lay face down after our swim.
I’m really going to have to learn how to get a grip on myself, and fast.
“It feels strange being so far away from home,” Sam says, rolling from his back to his side and propping his head up. “I can almost imagine that everything there, Jeremy being gay, Carole finding a man she wants to move in with, my dead-end café job and rundown house, that they are someone’s else’s issues. Not mine.”
I fold my arms under my head to use as a pillow. “Sometimes a bit of distance is good. It can help make more sense of things. What would you tell that guy with all those issues?”
Sam hums. “I’d tell him . . .” He thinks for a moment, pinching sand between his fingers and letting it go. Breezes pick up the sand and scatter it over my back. “I’d tell him to seriously think about the future he wants and do something about getting it.”
“What type of future does that guy want, do you think?”
“I don’t know. I think . . . I think, secretly, he wants to go back and finish school too. I think he might want to go to Polytech and do a course in journalism or something.”
My lips twitch into a smile. “Journalism, eh?”
He blushes and pinches my arm, his sandy fingers prickling against my skin. “Yeah, something like that, okay?”
I’m still half-hard, but I twist onto my side anyway. My swimming shorts are loose and they’ll keep me covered enough. “If I could give that guy some advice? I’d say he should go for it. Take out loans if he has to and apply for government aid, but he should go for it.”
Sam sits up suddenly, staring out toward the rolling ocean. “But can he do it while raising a teenager and making sure they have enough to live on?”
I sit up too, mirroring him. “Yeah, he can. Because he has his son’s mother who’ll help as much as she can, and because he has this amazing next-door neighbor, who’ll do about anything for the two guys.”
Sam’s gaze pans to mine, and it’s soft and . . . tender. He doesn’t speak, just gives me a grateful smile, scoots closer, and wraps his arms around me.
We stay that way for just over a minute before Sam pulls away. “I, ah, I think I’m ready to go back, take a shower—I’m covered in sand in places you don’t even want to know about.”
He laughs as he stands and picks up his towel.
I do the same, slinging my towel around my neck.
We walk along the empty beach, planning all the things we can do on the island in the week that we’re here. “. . . maybe even do part of the three day round hike in the bush—” I stop talking suddenly.
We’ve just walked past a large rock, and what I thought were seagulls squawking turns out to be two naked figures, fucking like there’s no tomorrow. I can’t see who’s underneath, but the guy on top is bucking and grunting, his ass flexing.
Sam has stopped next to me and is gaping at them too. I swallow roughly as I feel Sam’s hand clasp around mine. My cock certainly likes the idea of what it sees, and in combination with Sam’s touch, it’s quickly hardening.
Hurriedly, I move again, charging toward our bed-and-breakfast. Sam is right at my side, and when I glance at him, I can’t fail to notice that he’s gone especially quiet. There might be more of a bulge in his swim shorts too, but I could be imagining that.
Neither of us says anything about it. We continue talking through our plans for the upcoming days. My voice sounds a little husky though, and Sam seems to be chatting much faster than usual.
Back in our room, we grab our stuff for a shower. Sam goes first, and I stretch myself out over my bed as I wait, trying hard to concentrate my thoughts on, well, anything other than sex.
I’m not even remotely successful.
In a record two minutes, Sam is out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and rivulets of water dripping from his hair to his torso. I move quickly when he walks out to hide any hint of my arousal, but the way Sam is staring at my middle, I don’t think I was fast enough. “Free,” he says and swallows.
I pick up my fresh towel. “We’re on holiday, you know. You didn’t have to have such a quick shower.”
Sam blinks and moves to his bedside. “I, ah, yeah, I guess. But . . . I wanted to make sure you had some hot water left.”
“Thanks, but next time I want you in that shower for at least fifteen minutes. Indulge in it.”
Sam smirks at me as I move into the bathroom. “Indulge, eh? Yeah, yeah, I think I can do that.”
There’s a twinkle in his eye that I can’t stop thinking about as I soap my body. My right hand is itching to take my hard-on and pump it until I come, but every time I touch myself, Sam’s last look comes back to me.
It’s only a sense I have, but I think . . . I think Sam wants to fool around some more.
After I’m finished and have dried myself, I step out into the main room. I halt at the sight before me.
My senses are right.
Sam is sprawled over his bed, his back to the ceiling. His towel is nowhere to be seen, and his head is angled toward me, watching me with that twinkle in his eyes.
“Do you want to know what it’s like to be naked against a guy?” he says in a low, rough voice.
My cock is aching just looking at him stretched out, legs slightly spread, arms thrown onto either side on the bed. His fingers just curl at the edges of the mattress, and—
I need to be closer.
I loosen the knot of my towel and let it fall. His breath hitches and his fingers seem to squeeze against the bed.
“Do you want a guy against you?”
He swallows, and nods. “Yes,” he says, and clears his throat. “I mean, you know, because I’m curious. Experimenting. Being wild. Getting it out of my system. That’s all.”
I wish he’d left out the list of excuses. I know this is just curiosity for him, but I want to forget that for a moment. I want to imagine I’m moving over to him because he wants, needs, me to touch him and bring him slowly to release.
At the side of the bed, I pause, sweeping my gaze over him and drinking in his long, gently muscled body. He’s still slightly damp from his shower and it glistens in the dim afternoon light streaming in from the window.
My cock throbs to be nearer and Sam’s audible swallow suggests he wants that too. I touch the back of his ankle and draw a line up to the back of his knee. Sam breathes out heavily. “That feels good.”
I trace back to his foot and lift it, this time rubbing it. “When was the last time you had a massage?”
“Never.”
I stop. Never? “Then that should be on that list of yours too.” I lower his foot. “Wait there a second.”
A murmur follows me as I move into the bathroom. I rummage through my toiletry bag for the small bottle of coconut oil that’s been in there since my birthday—a gift from my sister who makes soaps and massage oils.
I come back to Sam, whose eyes are laughing.
“What?” I ask.
“Um, nothing.”
I press the cold bottle against his thigh. “Nothing?”
He chuckles, deep and throaty. “Okay, it’s just, you walking around naked and hard like that. It’s sort of bizarre and amusing. I mean, in all the years, Luke, I’d never imagined seeing you like this.”
“And I never thought I’d be seeing you like this, either.” Though it’s true that I’ve imagined it.
“Touché. God I want your body.”
His words make my cock jump and I shift to the base of the bed where he can’t see me as I give myself a quick stroke.
“How is the weight training going?” I fumble to undo the bottle and when it pops open, a splash of oil jumps out and lands on Sam’s calf.
He twitches. “I don’t seem to be as dedicated as you are to sport. But I’ll keep at it. What have you got there? It smells like coconut.”
I pour a little more liquid in the palm of my hand and place the bottle on the dresser behind me. Picking up Sam’s foot, I begin to massage. He immediately moans and buries his face into the pillow. “It’s massage oil,” I say. “Trust me, after I’m done with you, you’ll wonder what you’ve been missing out on for so long.” I thread my fingers between each of his toes, making sure to touch every inch of his foot.
When I’m done with the first one, Sam let’s out a forlorn whimper. “Nowhere near done yet,” I reassure him, picking up his other foot and giving it the same treatment.
From there I move up, massaging his calves.
I’ve gone through a quarter of the massage oil when I slide myself between his legs and start on his thighs. His ass clenches every time I dig deep into the muscle and my cock responds with a twitch of its own. With the occasional tugs I give myself to keep from exploding as I work over him, my cock and balls are shiny and slippery with oil.
I massage his other thigh, all the way to the slight crease before Sam’s ass curves. “You just tell me if I’m pressing too hard,” I say, kneading and stroking his skin.
“No, I . . .” Sam’s swallow is audible. “I like it when you’re firm. It’s . . . better.”
I slide my hands, one on each of his thighs now, up and over his ass. He sucks in a breath, and I continue up his back. I’m leaning over him now, only inches separating our bodies.
“I’m going to straddle you,” I tell him as I shift my legs to either side of his hips. “I can do your back better this way.”
I rest most of my weight on my knees on either side of him. The patchwork quilt is rough in places where it’s seamed together. The slight scratching feels good, though not anywhere near as good as Sam’s warm, smooth hips under me. My balls rest on the top curve of his ass and a small bead of pre-cum is leaking from the tip of my straining cock.
I grab the bottle of oil I now have next to Sam on the bed, and tip a generous amount on his back.
The oily liquid rolls down his spine and he shivers under me. The feeling must be light and tickly, and I sense Sam wants me to swirl my hands in the liquid and put more pressure on him.
I lean my weight into it. He groans and his backside is arching slightly under me. “You’re so good at this.”
“I took a course back in the day.”
I rub and squeeze his neck, holding him there. I dip down so my mouth is at his ear. My words skate over his cheek. “Has this been firm enough for you?”
He tries to nod, and then he clears he throat. His voice comes out a little parched. “Yes . . . I think so.”
I close my eyes and breathe in the sweet coconut scent mixing with Sam, and his hair tickles the tip of my nose. I give in to my own needs then, burying my mouth into the crook at the base of his hairline, behind his ear. I kiss him there and then pull back, sitting up and scooting down his body until I’m sitting with my legs on either side of his thighs.
Using the remains of the oil from his back, I smooth my hands over his ass and massage. When the side of my hand dips into his crease, Sam hums and pushes back.
I’m hesitant to lift my hands off him as he writhes so openly under me, but I want more oil.
This time, I pour a trail of oil between Sam’s ass cheeks. Tossing the bottle to the side, I slip one finger down his middle as I chase after the oil. Sam lifts his ass slightly. “Ten, ten, ten,” he hums as I brush over his opening and to the base of his balls.
The tip of my cock brushes his ass cheek as Sam moves again. “Lie on me now, Luke. I want to feel all of your weight . . .”
I pepper kisses from the base of his spine to the top of his neck as I come down to rest on him. He’s so warm and slick under my chest and I fight back a sigh to be feeling him like this at last. Arranging my cock gently so it rests between Sam’s cheeks, I slide my hands firmly up his side and down each of his arms, slowly and firmly.
Sam’s breathing comes heavier under my weight. I lace my fingers through the backs of his and squeeze. A soft, needy moan escapes him and Sam tightens his ass. It grips my cock, begging me to move, and I do, slow and languid. I rub my cock, sliding it over Sam’s hole to tease but not penetrate.
It feels so good and right having Sam pressed so close to me, having him respond so passionately to my touch. I lightly bite his shoulder to stop myself from blurting out how much I love him.
I can’t say the words, they’re going to remain trapped on the tip of my tongue—but my body has no such restraint. Every thrust is careful and loving as it spells out how much Sam means to me.
I groan into his hair as Sam arches back trying to capture and suck my cock into his ass. And it’s so tempting. The way he juts, the way his muscles try to grip my cock’s head and pull it down where it needs to go.
I resist, but when Sam curves his ass again and the tip of my oiled cock meets his ring, I moan long and hard against his neck and push, just slightly, feeling the give and resistance.
Sam’s head twists to mine as he tries to kiss me. His right hand slips out from under mine and fishes for himself, even as he thrusts his ass more toward me.
The ring of his hole pulses against my tip and oh God, I want inside of him. I want to give him what he’s begging for, I want to sink myself into him and fill him up, and make love to him.
“No condom,” I manage, still not strong enough to pull away. He grunts, and pushes back anyway, too lost in his lust to care.
But I care. I’m clean, I know it, and I trust Sam is too. That’s not the issue. The issue is that I’ve never done it without a condom before, and I only ever want to when I’m in a steady, long-term relationship with someone. Someone who loves me back, and isn’t just curious.
I stifle a sigh as I force my cock back from him. I crawl back. “Turn over, Sam.”
He lets out a disappointed sound, but rolls over. His gaze is almost blackened with lust. He likes this. He likes what you’re doing to him. And my heart pumps faster, more erratically.
Sam blinks up at me, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. I rest my hands on either side of his shoulders and lower myself slowly on top of him again. Our cocks press together for a moment before sliding next to each other, and Sam’s metal ring presses hard against my nipple.
I link my fingers with his again, arms outstretched, and look down at Sam. His eyes drift to my mouth, and I take it as a request and lock us together at the lips. I tighten my grip on his hands, bracing him so I can lightly thrust. “You’re so . . .” beautiful—I want to finish. Instead I let it drift off, bucking a little harder.
He pants under me when I take one of my hands and wrap it around both of our cocks. Unoiled, his cock has the perfect friction against my slickened one. Each stroke of us together brings us closer and closer to the edge. But I’m holding off on falling over until Sam is there with me. I need us to do this together.
Sam moans softly, “Luke, I’m—”
My name so sensually falling off his lips adds to the sensations pounding through me. Everything in me tightens. I stroke us harder and faster and Sam trembles under me.
He stiffens and holds his breath, and I feel the first hit of his come against my lower stomach.
I gasp, balls drawing up harder as I pump once, twice more—
I dip my mouth and kiss him so I don’t cry out his name as I slam into an orgasm. It rolls on and on and it’s not until it ends I feel Sam’s hands at my back, pressing me down against him.
I dip my head down to his neck and breathe out. Sam’s lips brush against my ear. It’s a small kiss, and my heart swells and I feel like crying. Why can’t this be more than fooling around for him?
Oh please let it have been more. Even if only a little. Maybe, just maybe, he felt something more than physical pleasure.
Slowly, I pull myself off him, turning my back quickly in case he catches any hint of that hope in my eyes. I sit on the edge of his bed, staring at the bathroom door, waiting for . . . waiting for him to tell me this moment touched him too.
A hand brushes over my back, and the mattress dips as Sam sits too. Without looking back, I rest a hand on his knee. Suddenly I’m too nervous to hear what he’ll say. “How about I get us something to clean up?”
Sam chuckles. “Yeah, it might be better if I take another shower. A longer one this time, I promise.”
Suddenly arms are around my neck and Sam’s front is pressed against my back. “That was . . . was . . .” He gently laughs and presses his face against my hair. His breath tunnels down my nape. I’m tightly strung, hanging on to his every word. “I don’t even know.”
Could that mean . . . could he possibly think—
My thoughts are interrupted as Sam continues, “I guess I could cross this one off my list over and over.”
List.
List. List. List.
A tear slips from the corner of my eye and I discreetly swipe it away.
I can’t do this anymore.
I gently shake Sam off and stand up, then reach for the towel I’d dropped earlier.
“Are you okay?” Sam asks, and I hear his feet hit the floor.
I shrug, keeping my back to him. “I, ah, yeah. I just . . .” I take a breath and let it rush out, “I don’t think we should experiment anymore. I think we’ve done enough.”
Sam stops shuffling toward me, and a thick silence stretches between us. I hear him swallow, and I wish I could trust myself to turn around and talk to him without falling apart.
When Sam speaks, he’s hesitant and uncertain. “Was it not so good for you then?”
I drop my head back, staring up at the beams in the ceiling, and sigh. “It’s not that.” God, no, far-far from it. “I just . . . suddenly realized how much of a bad idea this is.”
“Bad idea?”
“Yeah, bad idea.”
There’s a note of irritation in Sam’s voice now. “I don’t get you, Luke. If I recall, you’re the one that first suggested we could try this together. Then you’re, pun intended, lukewarm about it. I told you that you didn’t have to fool around with me, but suddenly you’re all there and willing again. And now it’s a bad idea?” He sighs and it sounds like he’s dropped back to the bed. “You could have just said no from the beginning. Now I feel like I’ve forced you to do something you never really wanted to do—”
I cut him off right there. “No! No, you didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Believe me, I wanted both these times with you, and I—God—I really liked doing this with you. I just don’t think we should do it again. That’s all. I think we should go back to being friends.” After a space I add, “Without the bro-gap, of course.”
I risk glancing at him. He’s sitting on the bed, head lowered, staring at my feet. His back heaves with a large breath, and then he nods. “Sure. I mean, of course. I hope this doesn’t get weird between us.” He looks up at me then, and his thick lashes seem a little wet. “We’ll look back on this in a couple of years and laugh at ourselves. Promise me we will.”
I look away again. I hope one day I will be able to see past the pain of this and laugh. But right now, that’s hard for me to imagine. I head to the bathroom.
“When you get to my age,” I say carefully, “I’m sure we’ll have quite the laugh looking back at this list of yours.” And with a wobbly smile I hope passes as sincere, I just shut the door.