Brett (Boys & Toys Season 2 2)

That’s what he meant back at the nightclub, I realize. If he’d known years ago, we could’ve been so much closer. He was in shock to learn that I’m gay, too—that we could have fulfilled our fantasies back then.

If only he realizes just how much a part of each other’s pack we really were—and still are.

“Skylar …” I whisper, emotional.

Just then, he grunts in his sleep, turns over, and throws an arm over my waist to cuddle against my side. Then, after mumbling under his breath in that groggy way he always does in his sleep, his hand absentmindedly journeys south and takes a rather firm grip of something lovely just below my waist.

Namely: my cock.

9

I freeze.

Well, this wasn’t exactly how I anticipated us approaching a discussion of our feelings.

Do I say something? Do I wake him up? Do I just let him continue to hold my cock through my boxers like a teddy bear he’s gripping in the night?

And it’s a firm grip, too.

Like he’s angry about something.

Or maybe he’s having one of those dreams where he’s on American Idol, and my dick is his microphone. I could fully believe it.

With him gripping it like that, it’s not going to be much longer before …

Never mind. My dick is already getting hard.

Yep. Now it’s fully, completely hard. Swollen and throbbing in my boxer-briefs—and his hand.

When I realize I’m holding my breath, I let it out gently, then turn my face towards his.

His eyes are closed. His face is right by my shoulder, half buried behind it, and his lips dangle open, gently drawing air in and out.

I try to move a leg, as if to test the waters.

His hand squeezes.

Oh, fuck, that feels good.

I do hope my roommate Connor really is with Alan tonight, because my bedroom door is wide open, it’s a direct view to the front door, and this would surely be an awkward scene to walk in on.

Also, I kinda don’t want it to end.

This isn’t exactly the fantasy that’s been playing out in my mind for the past few years, but—

Sky groans, presses against my side even more firmly, then pulls on my dick, still gripping it.

It flexes in reaction against his hand.

I resist squirming, despite crackles of electricity coursing through me at his touch.

Fuck, that was like half a stroke of my cock.

I turn my face toward him again to shoot him a frustrated glare. Do you have any fucking idea what kind of torture you’re putting me through right now, Skylar?

I guess, after reading how he felt all this time in his confession, I deserve it at least a little, don’t I?

Another thought occurs to me. Is he pretending to be asleep? What if he deliberately left the book open to his confession, knowing I’d read it? No, he wouldn’t do that … Or would he?

“Mmm …” he groans in his sleep.

Then his hand moves more purposely, giving my hard cock another firm stroke through my tight black boxer-briefs.

My swollen cock can’t help but to flex again in response, desperate for more stimulation.

I’ve never been more turned on and equally as confused about what to do in a bed before.

Then he strokes my dick again. I squirm.

Wait. Is he dreaming? Is he dream-stroking me?

“Mmm …” he moans again, then starts to jerk my cock through my underwear with deeper and more hungry intention.

I roll my eyes back as he picks up pace. Every cell in my body is crackling and popping. I’ve been built up all night being around Skylar. And that’s not to mention the incidental rubbing up against him on the dance floor at Dames & Dudes, which wasn’t exactly sexual at the time, but certainly got my mind on a certain track.

A track that has led to this … moment.

Whatever this is.

“Mmm … Br … Bread … mmm …”

I frown and look at him.

Was that my name he just moaned? Or did he moan the word ‘bread’ at me? Is he hungry? Does he want me to make him a sandwich?

He licks his lips, grunts, and then squeezes my dick. I stare at his face and his parted lips, my heart racing its way up my throat.

Or maybe he wants me to kiss him?

I can’t keep this going much longer. “Sky …?”

“Mmm …”

“Skylar.” I free my arm from between our bodies where it’s trapped and put it around the back of his head, half-scooping him into my arms. With surprising ease, he nuzzles up against me, like I just became his body pillow. “Skylar? Bro …?”

He squeezes my dick again, harder.

I squirm underneath him.

Then he lifts his head suddenly and pops open his eyes, as if an imaginary alarm clock just rang.

He looks at me in surprise.

I stare back at him, wide-eyed.

Then his eyes drag down to his hand. It takes a full three and a half seconds for it to register.