That was how Tyler ended up squeezed next to Nick on the loveseat that was far too small for two big men, or at least it felt that way. He was acutely, painfully aware of the heat radiating off Nick’s body, of the mere inch separating their thighs. Nick seemed freshly showered and shaved, the scent of his aftershave making Tyler’s cock chub up in his loose sweatpants. It was the fucking worst. It was particularly maddening because Nick seemed to be in his best friend mode tonight, showing no interest in Tyler whatsoever.
Tyler bit the inside of his cheek, trying to tell himself that he was perfectly content with just hanging out like bros. They were bros. Right? He could totally live without putting his hands on Nick. He absolutely didn’t want to slip his hand under Nick’s shirt and have a good grope.
Ugh. It was like Tyler was a teenager all over again, his hands itching to touch and his cock hard just from being so close to the object of his lust. It didn’t even seem to matter that there were a dozen other people in the room; Tyler still wanted to climb into Nick’s lap, shove his tongue down Nick’s throat, and sit on his cock, not necessarily in that order. Even his nipples were hard and oversensitive against his shirt, aching for Nick’s attention—his hands, his mouth, anything.
Tyler dug his fingers into his own thighs, hoping against hope that the pain would erase the totally insane, totally gay thoughts from his mind.
On the screen, someone screamed.
Tyler flinched, startled and confused.
Next to him, Nick chuckled. “Come on, it isn’t that scary.”
Tyler eyed the screen, only now realizing they were watching a horror flick. At least the revolting, hairy thing eating the blonde alive was a pretty big clue that it was a horror flick.
“Ugh, gross,” Tyler said, inching closer to Nick. It wasn’t that he was scared or anything—it was just so damn gross.
Nick snorted. “Want me to hold your hand?”
Tyler felt himself blush. “Oh, shut it,” he said, and flinched again when the hairy monster attacked another person.
Laughing quietly, Nick slung an arm around him. “You’re such a baby.”
Tyler stared unseeingly at the screen, breathing slowly and evenly so that Nick didn’t guess that he was practically shaking with the effort not to lean into Nick. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? What was this? His stomach felt funny. His cock was hard. He wanted Nick to turn his head and kiss his cheek, his mouth—everywhere.
Fuck.
This was definitely gay. This was definitely, unquestionably gay.
“You’re trembling,” Nick said, stroking his shoulder and finally turning his head to Tyler.
Tyler forced out a crooked smile. “You know horror flicks aren’t my thing. They creep me out.”
He couldn’t read Nick’s expression in the semi-darkness. The only light in the room came from the TV, and since the movie was dark and gloomy, it didn’t do a good job at making the room bright enough to see faces well. Maybe had they been sitting closer to the TV, it would have been bright enough, but they were too far back.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t like it,” Nick said, kneading Tyler’s shoulder a little with his strong, talented fingers.
Tyler hoped it wasn’t obvious how much he was enjoying the touch. “I’m fine,” he lied. He was definitely not fine. He was as far from fine as it could get. But he didn’t want to go. Tyler wasn’t sure he was physically capable of pulling away from Nick and leaving. He felt too warm, his skin prickling, and his cock hard enough to be uncomfortable, and he felt like he’d fucking die if Nick stopped touching him. He wanted—he wanted to crush his mouth against Nick’s and shove his tongue down his throat. And then he wanted to rub his crotch against Nick’s face, have him suck on his clit.
Fuck.
His face hot, Tyler stared blankly at the screen, terrified of his own thoughts. It wasn’t that it was his first dirty fantasy about Nick; far from it. He’d been thinking of Nick for months when he wanked. The fantasies had been nothing worrying at first: he’d just imagined Nick fucking him, imagined his cock moving in his hole, the stretch and the delicious fullness. It had been his go-to wank fantasy for the past few months. But lately other, more worrying fantasies crept in: Nick sucking his cock, Nick eating him out, Nick’s cock fucking his mouth, Nick’s tongue in his mouth as his cock pounded into Tyler’s pussy.
It was all so very confusing, embarrassing, and so bloody wrong.
It wasn’t okay.
It wasn’t okay to daydream about his best mate sucking on his non-existent clit while said best mate sat next to him, unaware of his filthy, freakish thoughts. Tyler felt like a right pervert.