Just a Bit Wrecked (Straight Guys 11)

Hot tears sprang to his eyes.

Christ, he couldn’t believe she was dead. Couldn’t believe she would never put her arms around him and hold him against her soft chest.

A low grunt snapped him to the present. Andrew flushed in discomfort, realizing that Logan must have come, too. There was silence in the shelter now, broken only by the sound of the rain outside.

Was it his imagination or was the rain really letting up?

God, he could only hope.

Chapter 7

The rain didn’t let up.

He and Logan had been stuck inside the shelter for three days now, and it was driving Andrew crazy.

The close quarters would have been okay—they had learned to co-exist in the past months, and Andrew had to admit even Logan’s company was better than being on his own—but ever since that first night…

Putting it bluntly, he was horny as hell.

It seemed that now that his body remembered that it had needs, it decided to keep reminding him of it all the time. It was beyond inconvenient. And a little embarrassing.

Though maybe it should have been more embarrassing than it was. Maybe he should have been more weirded out by the fact that every night he jerked off next to a practically naked, horny gay man.

But truth be told, Andrew had become used to Logan always being around. He didn’t even like the guy, but… having him around was sort of comforting. No, “comforting” was the wrong word. There was nothing comforting about Logan: the guy was a moody, grumpy dick who clearly barely tolerated him. But lately, not having him around put Andrew on edge. Off balance. The loneliness, the lack of purpose and meaning in this life… it ate at him, every day. He sometimes thought he hated Logan, but he hated being alone with his thoughts—being alone, period—even more. When Logan was around, the world came a little more into focus. Andrew knew it wasn’t normal, knew that it was some kind of weird dependency born out of loneliness and desperation, but he could do nothing about it.

He didn’t want to be alone.

They did everything together these days: cooked, scavenged, argued—and just sat in silence. Silence with Logan around didn’t feel as daunting and scary as the silence when Andrew was alone.

Maybe that was why jerking off with Logan around didn’t feel anywhere near as weird as it should have been—would have been in the real world. In this strange, surreal world where only the two of them existed, it was just another thing they did together.

But while he might not have been all that weirded out about the whole thing, it didn’t mean he wasn’t aware that Logan might not be as blasé about it as he was.

Logan wasn’t straight. Unlike Andrew, he loved cock. He loved sticking his cock into other men. So really, getting off beside Logan was… probably not ideal. A little reckless. As provocative as a hot, naked woman getting herself off next to Andrew every night would have been.

Andrew wasn’t blind. He could sense the tension in Logan, the ever-growing frustration, could see the way the other man’s cock would get hard several times a day. Um, he wasn’t staring at the guy’s crotch all the time or anything; it was just right there. Anyone would look. Anyone would notice, considering how fucking big that thing was.

Coupled with the fact that the guy couldn’t stand him, it seemed it was only a matter of time before Logan finally snapped. So Andrew should probably stop doing this next to him.

But fuck, he couldn’t. He liked—needed—to feel good. And this was pretty much the only way he could feel good on this godforsaken island where nothing ever happened. The mind-numbing dullness of this existence was driving him crazy—he felt like he was slowly losing his mind—and he wasn’t about to deprive himself of this small comfort. Even his own touch was better than nothing.

So he ignored Logan and touched himself.

If Logan got any ideas, Andrew would simply tell him to keep his paws off him.

***

It happened on the fourth day of continuous rain.

Andrew was curled up on his side, his back to Logan, his hand working leisurely on his cock. His shorts were kicked off to his feet, because he hated how restricted he felt in them. It was dark in the shelter, so it didn’t matter anyway. Logan couldn’t see him.

He stroked his cock slowly to the drum of the rain outside. Cap-cap, cap-cap, cap-cap.

He wondered dazedly if this was what the primitive humans used to do all the time: with no Internet and no entertainment to pass the time, they had probably just touched their cocks all day long. Maybe they had public orgies all the time, going around naked, breasts and cocks on display. Naked, pretty women sucking thick, hard cocks… red cockheads glistening with pre-come… Mmm… Though there were probably homos back then, too. The mental image of cavemen sucking each other’s cocks was… obviously nowhere near as appealing as perky breasts.