Arabian Nights

Arabian Nights by RJ

This story is about the relationship between two young men who have been best friends their whole lives.

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~ Chapter 4 ~

When I wake up, I'm thrown from sleep. I sit straight up in my bed, feeling slightly out of breath as I wonder what that noise was. A crash? It sounded like glass shattering. I'm sure of it, because that sound is unmistakable. I glance at the clock on my nightstand and see that it's barely past five A.M. Has someone broken in? No. That's crazy. Who the hell would be breaking in at five A.M.?

I slide out of bed in my briefs and t-shirt and go investigate the noise. As I walk slowly towards the kitchen, my ears notice a sweeping noise alongside someone muttering to themselves. I call out Zane's name as I turn the corner and immediately stop in my tracks when he whisper-shouts at me. "Careful!" he says, holding his palm out to me. "There's glass all over the floor."

My eyes scan the kitchen floor, and sure enough, glass is scattered like shrapnel across the fake hardwood floorboards. It looks like he dropped one of the taller glasses. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Cleaning it up," he says, looking at me as if I'm stupid for asking such a question.

"No, I mean, what are you doing up?" I clarify.

"Oh." He shrugs, looking exhausted. He scratches his bare chest as he leans into the broom, still just in boxer briefs. "I had to throw up. And then I felt dehydrated. And then I felt dizzy. Hence..." He gestures to the dangerous floor.

"You feeling okay now?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm alright," he says before pausing and looking up at me. "Sorry about the mess. All the mess," he clarifies, pointing towards the living room to reference the surprise party last night. "I'll clean it all up. Don't worry about it, okay?"

I just nod. "Sure," I say, finding it hard to meet his gaze.

Zane continues to sweep up the glass into a small pile before asking "How bad was I last night?"

I immediately tense up, feeling my voice get caught in my throat. "Um..." How long ago did we fool around? Maybe five hours ago? It's still fresh in my mind. Very fresh. In fact, it's all I'm really thinking about, so I don't know how to answer his question. Part of me knows he's talking about him being high, but he could easily be referring to the kissing... and the grinding... and the blowjob...

"I've never been that fucked up, man," he says. "I'm sorry." Then he laughs, in a way that people laugh when they know they've done something stupid. "I barely even remember what happened."

That makes me perk up. I glance at him curiously. "Seriously? How much... DO you remember?" I ask slowly.

He shrugs. "I don't know. A lot of us did shots. I did a few lines with Mitch. Then he gave me something to hold under my tongue, and after that, shit gets hazy." He shrugs again. "I just remember poker. And waking up on the floor next to you when everyone was gone."

I gulp. "What about after that?"

He looks at me for a few moments before speaking. "Nothing. Next thing I know, I'm in here, sweeping up this fuckin' glass." He holds his broom up and gives me a slight smile.

So... Wait... He doesn't remember what happened last night? Between me and him? How we kissed? How he blew me? How we rutted against each other until I made him cum? How the fuck does he not remember that? Jesus, he must have been really fucked up. I scratch the back of my head. "Alright," I mutter, unsure what to say. Should I tell him what happened between us? Maybe it's better that he doesn't know.

"You gonna go back to sleep?" he asks.

Am I? I don't think I could even if I wanted to. "I'm already up," I tell him.

"Sorry," he says with a little smile. "Wanna watch Aladdin?"

In spite of the confusing thoughts buzzing around in my head, I laugh. I'm far too old for Disney, but Zane knows how near and dear to my heart that movie is. It's my not-so-guilty pleasure, a movie that has always managed to entertain and relax me. Can Zane tell that I'm thinking a million miles a minute, or is this just his way of asking for forgiveness? "Sure," I say, smiling back at him.

"Tight," he says, nodding as he continues to sweep. "Go set it up. I'll be in there in a sec."

I head into the living room and set up the DVD before plopping myself onto the couch. I let out a long sigh, messing with my hair a bit and just staring at the television. Zane doesn't know. He doesn't fucking know. Should I tell him we hooked up last night, or should I just keep it to myself, bury it, never speak of it? It'd be easy if I regretted the instance. I could just act like it never happened and Zane would be none the wiser. But if I'm being totally honest with myself, all I'm really wanting right now is another go at Zane's lips...

I let myself in with the spare key, glancing around the house. I'm surprised by the slight mess, though. Usually Baba keeps things particularly tidy, but there are throw pillows on the floor and socks left in the middle of the living room rug and a plate of what looks to be remnants of a slice of cake left out on the coffee table. "Baba?" I call out.

I hear movement in the kitchen before my father pokes his head out from around the corner. "Khalid?" he says in surprise before smiling. Then he enters the living room, tying his robe around himself to be a little more presentable. "Khalid! What are you doing here, my son?" he asks as he comes over for a hug.

I laugh as I hug him back tightly. "Baba, you told me to come," I remind him. When he pulls back with a confused look, I roll my eyes. "Did you forget your appointment again?"

It takes him a second before it dawns on him. "Oh! Goodness," he says, rubbing his forehead. "Where is my head?"

I laugh. "You're lucky I came early." I offered to take Baba to and from his surgery when he scheduled the appointment just under a month ago. Last month, when Baba was supposed to get two of his wisdom teeth out, he conveniently decided to take a day trip a few counties over to visit one of his old friends. By the time I showed up at the house to pick him up, he was long gone. I don't think he was trying to avoid the dentist. I think he simply forgot. After all, I'm usually the one who makes sure he gets to his appointments.

"Yes, yes, thank you," he says, reaching up to stroke my cheek. He must notice something strange in my face, being as astute as he is, so his smile quickly turns to a frown. "Something is wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Baba," I say automatically, surprised. Does he notice something's on my mind?

He blinks, studying me for a moment before shrugging. "Alright. I should, um, dress myself," he says, looking around. "What time is the appointment?"

"Eleven," I remind him, smiling. "You have time."

"Good, good," he says. Just then, we hear a whistling noise coming from the kitchen. "Oh, the kettle! Would you like some tea?" he asks me as he rushes back towards the stove.

"Yes, please," I say with a small laugh, amused by his energy. I take a seat on the couch with a sigh. That's when I notice a shirt on the floor as well, lying between the couch and the coffee table. I squint at it. Baba has a very minimalistic style, so I know everything that's in his closet. This shirt, however, I don't recognize.

Baba comes back with two cups of tea, handing me one before he sits down with a happy hum. That's when I comment on the scattered articles of clothing and the food left out on the table. Baba just blushes slightly. "Oh, yes. Sorry."

I raise an eyebrow. "It's okay," I say, half-smirking. What's he hiding?

"So how is Zane?" Baba asks, totally shifting topics. "I was worried about him."

Now that he brought up Zane, all other distractions are pushed out of my head. "He's..." How do I answer this question? He seems okay now, now that he got that random party-phase out of his system. We talked about the dinner a little bit while we were watching Aladdin, but Zane didn't have too much to say. It was clear that he didn't necessarily know how to feel, or was, at the very least, still processing his feelings. "He's figuring it out," I say.

Baba tsks. "It was quite scary," he says, looking at the couch as he remembers last night.

"I bet." I can only imagine how things would have changed if I had been there. The party certainly wouldn't have happened. Then Zane and I probably wouldn't have done what we did... I look at Baba, feeling this sudden urge to talk to someone about it. "Actually, can I talk to you about something? Concerning Zane?"

Baba peers at me, eyebrows raised. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah, yes," I say, shaking my head. "It's not necessarily about him, anyway," I add. "It's more about... us."

Baba just looks confused. "I don't understand. Did something happen?"

"Yeah," I say, but I can tell by Baba's expression that he's fearing the worst. "Nothing like that," I clarify before taking a deep breath. "Zane and I... We... We, uh... kissed last night," I say. Probably no need to be vulgar. Baba doesn't need to know that dicks were involved.

I was fully anticipating Baba to be surprised, but I didn't expect his shock to turn into absolute excitement. "Finally!" he says, suddenly unable to sit still, his lips split into a broad, open-mouthed smile.

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" I ask, somewhat amused.

Baba puts his hands on my arm. "I've been waiting for this day for so long!" he says, positively giddy.

"This d--? No, Baba," I say, laughing. "It's not like that--"

"Finally, you two SEE each other--"

"Bab--"

"--and you can love each other openly--"

"That's not--"

"--just like Rashida and I always thought you two would. We wondered for so long, you know--"

"Baba, stop," I insist, finally getting him to stop rambling. "It's not like that."

He just stares at me. "Then why did you kiss?"

"I... uh..." What to say, what to say... "He was drunk."

Baba arches his eyebrow. "And were YOU drunk?"

All I can do is blink. Damn, Baba, asking the piercing questions. "I mean... no, but that's not the point--"

"I think that is very much the point, Khalid," he says with a sly smirk.

"Baba, I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

"Alright, alright," he says, patting my knee before putting his excitement to the side. "But answer me this--" he adds, holding up a finger.

"Ugh, Baba, come on--"

"I'm being serious!" he says, looking at me intently. "Are you in love?"

I blink, finding it hard to meet his gaze. "No, Baba," I tell him. "I'm just... confused."

At my words, Baba relaxes a bit, scanning my face for any nonverbal explanation. "Confused?"

"I don't know how I feel, or what to do," I admit.

"About?"

"Everything," I say vaguely.

He looks at me curiously. "Seems odd to be so stressed over a little kiss."

I blush a bit. It does, doesn't it? I clear my throat, looking at my lap. "We didn't just kiss..." I say slowly.

"Ah," he says gently. "Well, that makes more sense!"

"Hence the confusion." With a look, Baba urges me to continue, so I keep speaking. I tell him about the sudden, strange, persistent curiosities I've been having towards Zane. I tell him about the jealousy I felt when Zane started dating Jason. I even tell him about my newfound sexual attraction towards my best friend (to which thankfully Baba doesn't bat an eyelash at). I try to express how unsure I've been, how I'm unable to decide whether or not it's just curiosity or something "more", and how it'd be easier to bury my feelings and hope they dissipate so that I don't have to confront them on a daily basis.

Baba pauses, soaking in all this information before asking "How does Zane feel? About the kiss and... everything?"

I grimace before saying "He doesn't remember. He was too drunk."

"Oh, seven heavens," Baba mutters in Arabic, sighing slightly.

"I know," I say. "I don't know if I should tell him or not."

Baba seems to think on it. "Well, was it just something playful?" Baba inquires, tilting his head.

I shake my head. "It was... intense, Baba," I say, emphasizing that word with the hope that he gets the hint without me having to spell it out.

He just nods. "I will say, you two have always had this connection--"

I sigh. "You always say that," I mutter.

"And it's true!" Baba says, wagging his finger at me. "And here is the proof!"

"How is that proof?" I question, but Baba just gives me a look implying that I'm stupid. What is he saying? That Zane and I are going to end up together? "I don't know, Baba," I say, unable to sort through my thoughts. Everything's zooming through my consciousness at light speed.

"You owe it to him to be honest," Baba says. "And you owe it to yourself. Especially with your feelings."

"So, what, I'm just supposed to say 'Hey, man, totally random but I'm crazy attracted to you all of a sudden'?" I say with a hint of frustration.

"Well, no," Baba says, smiling patiently. "Just be open with him. Otherwise you will be asking yourself 'Ohhh, what if I had done such and such?' for years to come."

"I guess so," I mumble, and even though I wasn't sure if this situation was that deep, Baba has a point. Those questions are dangerous and debilitating at times. But on the flip side, what if I regret saying anything? What if it's not that serious? What if it really just is a sexual curiosity but Zane sees it as more, or vice versa? What if the best course of action was to forget about this whole thing?

He just shrugs before speaking. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, Khalid," he says, patting my knee. "How you feel is how you feel. But I'll leave you with this: don't let yourself regret the chances you didn't take." He smiles at me sadly. "Trust me."

I know he's speaking from experience. Baba's life is full of chances he didn't take, especially when it comes to romance. "I just have to figure out how to word it," I say.

"Don't bother," he tells me. "It'll come out messy, but it'll come out honest, and that's what's important."

I smile at Baba. I feel a little better after talking it out. In an attempt to not get myself too bent out of shape over this, I try to convince myself that I'll talk it over with Zane, see what he thinks, how he feels. And then, whatever happens, we'll go from there. One step at a time.

I notice Baba's eyes shift towards the stairs, looking surprised. When I turn my head to peer over the back of the couch, I see a shirtless man coming down the staircase. He pauses when he notices me in the living room. "Hi," I say, somewhat startled.

"Oh! Hello," he says, squinting slightly at me as if he can't see very far. But I just turn to Baba, a grin on my face. At first, I think he's embarrassed, but then I think he's just trying to hide that he's incredibly pleased with himself for landing such a handsome man. I mean, the guy is a bit of a stud: lean but muscular and hairy body with a soft, poet's face. And it's clear what happened. The mess in the living room, the robe, the half-naked stranger... Of course. Guess Baba's been taking some chances. I wonder if they're dating or if this was a one-night stand.

Baba clears his throat. "Raul, this is my son, Khalid. Khalid, this is my friend, Raul."

"Friend?" I tease quietly, and Baba hits my leg before I laugh. I then offer my hand to Raul, who smiles slightly. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he says in a pleasant voice, coming over to shake my hand. "Heard a lot about you."

"Don't embarrass the boy," Baba says.

"Too late," he says with a smile as he gestures to his body before addressing me. "Sorry. I didn't know you were coming," he says. "I would have made myself more presentable."

I laugh. "It's all good," I say, trying my best not to eye his body -- though I can't help but notice that he's got nothing on Zane. "My father here is a little forgetful. He's getting a few wisdom teeth out today."

Raul clearly looks surprised at this news. "Really?"

Baba nods. "Sorry."

"I could have taken you," Raul says with a laugh. So clearly they've been together long enough for offering rides to be appropriate.

"It slipped my mind," Baba says, smiling slightly. "But that's why I have Khalid."

"So all I am is a calendar to you?" I tease.

"Yes," Baba says without hesitation, and the three of us laugh. After a moment, Raul excuses himself to go into the kitchen to make coffee -- clearly making himself at home already.

I watch him leave before I grin, giving Baba a look. "What?" he asks quietly, busying himself with his cup and trying to pretend like he doesn't know exactly why I'm making this face.

"Who's the handsome gentleman?"

"His name is Raul," Baba says simply.

I chuckle. "Uh huh. And how long has THAT been going on?"

"Just a short while," Baba says, clearly trying not to smile. "Raul and I are... 'hanging'? Is that the phrase?"

I laugh. "Yes, Baba." Before I take a sip of my tea, I ask him if he likes this guy.

"Very much," he says with a nod.

"Is it... serious?"

Baba shrugs, gazing up at the ceiling in a dreamy sort of way. "I don't know yet," he says before his eyes center on me. "I'm just having fun."

"Looks like it," I mutter, and Baba giggles slightly. "Well, I'm happy for you, Baba."

He smiles. Beams, really. "Just... don't tell anybody yet," he says. "I don't want to hope too much." I give him a soft smile, noticing that I know exactly how he feels right now.

A whole week goes by and still, I haven't said anything to Zane. I'm straddling the fence, toeing the line between whether or not I should tell him anything. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I just need to, in a way, get it out of my system. Sometimes I wonder if it's just a "bicurious" thing -- like I should just hook up with any random dude and see what happens. But the thought doesn't excite me much. Thoughts of Zane, however... those excite me VERY much.

I don't know exactly how far I'd want to take things, or how it all would work, or what the implications of our actions would be, but I do know that I want to have sex with Zane again. I want his lips on my lips, body on my body. I want my cock in his fist, in his mouth, against his expert tongue. Sometimes, if I let my mind drift, I'll think about mounting him too, or taking him from behind like Jason did the night I caught them together. More often than not, I'll move my tongue around in my mouth while imagining what it'd feel like to have Zane's cock there.

I find it interesting that my curiosities are solely focused towards Zane, who is the quintessential male, devoid of femininity. But I think it's a comfort thing -- at least, that's what I tell myself. It's an easy explanation for things I somewhat wish I didn't have to address. Why else would I be so constantly thinking about that fiery kiss without shuddering at the memory? The only negative thing is the hard-ons I give myself whenever I think of how insanely good my body felt that night.

But still, I don't say anything. I come close a few times, but each time, I chicken out. I think Zane is incredibly embarrassed by his behavior at the party and just wants to put it behind him, and that alone serves as an effective deterrent. There's also that little voice in the back of my head saying "It's not that big of a deal, Khalid. It's just a little physical affection, nothing more." If I listen to that voice long enough, I can feel myself start to believe it.

So, by the time the end of the work week rolls around, I haven't said shit to Zane. We just keep on like everything's normal -- and that's how I expect things to continue when I get back to the apartment. However, as I enter, already animatedly talking about the craziness that ensued at work today, I'm surprised to see that Zane isn't alone. "Dude, you won't believe the shit I had to--" But I stop, seeing a stranger leaning against the kitchen counter across from Zane. They look like they just got out of work or something, both dressed in business casual: Zane in a fitted polo and some slacks, and his friend wearing an untucked dress shirt with some crisp-looking jeans. Do they work together?

"You're home early," Zane comments, surprised to see me.

"Yeah, I had too much overtime." My shift wasn't supposed to end until midnight tonight. "Boss let me off early," I say, but I'm eyeing this guy I don't recognize.

"Awesome," Zane says, standing up a little straighter. "Well, um... this is Brad," he says, gesturing to his friend. "Brad, this is my buddy, Khalid."

"The infamous roomie," Brad says in his slightly effeminate voice. I arch my brow. Infamous? What does that mean? But he holds his hand out to me. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Same," I say, shaking his hand and looking him over. He looks like a Brad, just in the way that he's irritatingly good-looking. I notice he's very clean-cut, but so clean that he looks a touch fem.

"You hungry? I ordered some pizza," Zane says to me. "Should be here any minute."

"Oh, nice," I say, nodding. The thought of pizza disarms me for a moment as I realize how hungry I am. I haven't eaten since this morning. "Um. I should shower, but save me a few slices?"

"You got it, bro."

I nod, smiling amicably at Brad before going between them and heading down the hallway to my bedroom. As I strip down and get ready to shower, I can't help but wonder what's going on. Are they friends? Is this Zane's new boyfriend? He's been way more open with me about who he used to date after he came out, but he hasn't ever mentioned a Brad. Oh man... There's that jealous feeling again.

I take a quick, soothing shower and then change into some shorts and a comfy crewneck before following the smell of pizza into the living room. It has my mouth salivating, and I interrupt their conversation to lean over and grab the largest slice of pepperoni. "Don't mind me."

Zane chuckles before patting the couch. "Sit down."

I look at him, and then Brad, who's sitting on the floor up against the coffee table as he chews on his slice of pizza. "I don't wanna intrude," I say.

"You're not intruding," he says. "We're just talking about Brad's new boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Brad says quickly, and Zane laughs.

So they're not dating? I don't know why that makes me feel relieved. "Who's your not-boyfriend?" I ask, sitting down next to Zane and then taking a bite of my pizza.

"Just some guy who used to bully me in high school," Brad says, rolling his eyes. "Now he's been up my ass about seeing me."

"Literally," Zane mumbles, and Brad kicks his shin, making Zane laugh.

I smirk slightly. "So you're fucking the guy who used to bully you?" I ask.

Brad sighs. "I mean, sure, we fucked once. Now it's weird and he won't leave me alone."

"I still don't get how it's weird," Zane comments.

"Sex changes how you see a person," Brad explains mid-chew.

"No it doesn't," Zane says.

I decide to chime in. "I'm with Brad on this one."

"THANK you," Brad says gratefully before smiling at Zane.

Zane rolls his eyes. "Alright, it can, but it shouldn't."

"It shouldn't, but it does," Brad says, shrugging. "We could talk in circles about that for hours, but the point is, when you have sex with someone, you look at them differently." Brad takes a bite out of his crust. "Now that I bedded Paul, all I can see is his weird o-face."

Zane laughs, but I ask a question. "Sorry, but... and like, do what you want, but why'd you fuck him at all?"

"Seriously?" Brad asks.

"Seriously."

"I mean... he's hot," Brad says plainly, and Zane chuckles. "Honestly, he's still a douche, but it was kind of a conquest thing for me, so."

"A conquest thing?"

"Yeah, like..." Brad searches for the words.

Zane chimes in, though. "Like, fucking someone just to say you fucked them."

Brad gives Zane a look. "Harsh, but sure."

I laugh a little. "So it's just for the story? Was it even good?"

"Oh come on," Brad says to me, clearly thinking I'm judging him or poking fun. "You've never fucked a guy just to add another notch to your belt?"

Zane speaks up, pointing to me with his thumb as he addresses Brad. "Khalid's straight."

Brad actually looks surprised. "You are?" he asks, looking at me before turning to Zane. "But... didn't you two...?" And then he trails off.

There's this indescribably tense moment before Zane puts his hand over his eyes and sighs in frustration, and I feel my entire body warm up. "Why did you...?" Zane mutters softly, not looking at either of us.

Brad clearly can see that he said something he wasn't supposed to, because he says "Well this is awkward" in that stupid way people acknowledge a very obvious set of circumstances. Does that mean... Zane remembers? That fucker. He lied to me! How did he manage to play it off exceedingly well, acting as normal as possible all week? I had no idea he remembered. Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Maybe he doesn't think it's that huge of a concern.

But it was obviously something to him if he mentioned it to Brad. He probably said something along the lines of "Holy shit, dude, I hooked up with my best friend/roommate last weekend" without giving any serious context. I don't know what to say. I just clutch onto my pizza, wishing I could evaporate on the spot. Would it be better to sit here as still as a statue or gracelessly leave the room as if admitting defeat?

For nearly half a minute, none of us say anything. Brad just chews on his pizza, Zane stares at the ceiling, and I just sit there completely tense. I'm afraid of moving for some reason. But then Zane clears his throat, laughing nervously. "I don't know what to say."

A feeling I know all too well. But what HAS he said already? I wonder how in-depth he went in telling Brad about what happened between us, even though I have a feeling he didn't go into too much detail considering Brad thought I was gay, too. "Let's just forget I said anything," Brad suggests, biting his lip as he looks between us, waiting for one of us to speak. When we take too long, he asks a question directly to me. "What do you do for work, Khalid?"

The three of us end up chatting (albeit awkwardly) for however long it takes for us to eat through the two small pizzas. The conversation is clearly an attempt to forget that little awkward interaction, and we all know it. I at least learn the nature of their relationship, though: Zane and Brad are coworkers. They've gotten closer lately because of their similar "coming-out" situations. Brad's dad is a total hard-ass, much like Seth, so Zane is trying to take Brad's advice (with a grain of salt) in how to deal with an intolerant father: keep your distance, and don't try to change their minds because they're far too set in their ways. I don't know if I completely agree, but then again, I'm not the one with experience in these matters.

Once we've had our fill of pizza, the conversation dies out a bit. Eating served as a distraction from the earlier tension, and now that we're all full, sitting idly is much more difficult. I think Brad senses that he fucked up the dynamic for the evening, so he says he's going to go, hitting the coffee table to announce his leave. He stands up and shakes my hand before Zane walks him to the door. I watch them hug, and after Brad starts heading down the hallway, Zane locks up and then sighs.

He pauses for a moment before coming back over to the couch and sitting down. I notice he sits even closer to the edge of the couch than before, adding just a touch extra distance between us. After he lets the silence hang for a second, he speaks up. "Sorry about that."

Of course I know exactly what he's referring to. "It's okay," I say automatically. Then: "I thought you didn't remember."

"Of course I remember," he says as if I should have known better. "No one gets THAT fucked up, Khalid." He tries to smile but still looks nervous. "I'm sorry. Part of me wanted to talk about it, but I thought I'd... I don't know, let you off the hook or something."

"Let me off the hook?" I question, though as I'm saying it, I think I see what he's getting at: he probably lied so that I wouldn't have to address it to him if I didn't want to -- which is what I somewhat hoped for, isn't it?

"I panicked," he says. "Again." Then he looks at me for the first time since he sat back down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying, and I'm sorry for throwing that stupid party, and I'm sorry for kissing you, and I'm sorry for--"

But I miss whatever he says next, because my brain is focused on one part: he's sorry for kissing me. Is that what he thinks happened? That HE kissed ME? I glance at him slightly. "You know I kissed YOU, right?"

He stares at me for a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." He pauses, his eyes scanning my face. "I mean, it was foggy, but I could have sworn..."

"Nope," I say simply. My throat feels itchy all of a sudden, and now I wish I wore a t-shirt so I could sweat this out comfortably.

The silence is so drawn out that, after a while, I wonder if Zane is just waiting for me to elaborate. Then, he tilts his head a bit and confirms my suspicions: "Why?"

How do I answer this? Do I just say all the confusing things I'm feeling in the hopes that he'll weave something sensible together, or do I play it safe? I choose to start off somewhat safe. "I don't know," I say. "Curiosity?"

He nods a couple times. "Makes sense."

I almost laugh at the easy way he seems to accept my half-assed response. "Does it?"

He just smiles slightly. "I don't know," he says, laughing slightly to himself. There he goes again, trying to let me off easy. Then his eyes scan my face before settling on my chin, maybe my lips. "I don't regret it, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I feel bad for falling asleep on you," he says with a smirk, and both of us laugh. That feels nice, bringing some humor into this situation. I feel a little lighter, a little less tense. "But I'm not like, mad it happened. I just didn't want to make it weird," Zane adds, "if you just wanted to, like, forget about it."

"I DID want to forget about it," I tell him, tugging on a few hairs on my thigh. "But honestly? I couldn't."

I peer over at Zane, and our eyes meet -- shiftily, I'll admit, but they keep finding each other. I gulp a bit, thinking of Baba and his advice. I even think of Zane, who has been happier living more honestly and openly. Should I do the same?

But he asks me something before I can even think of what to say. "Is that a... bad thing?" he asks.

"Um... No," I admit. "I, uh... I liked it," I add after a moment, scratching my head. "A lot, actually."

Zane smiles a bit. "Yeah?"

Seeing the gentleness in his smile makes me want to open up a little more -- but I keep a bit of humor with it in order to maintain a lightness about this conversation. "Pretty sure you turned me bicurious or something," I say with a playful grin.

He lets out a little laugh. "I think that ship has sailed," he says, though it's in a half-joking manner. "It's not exactly curiosity anymore if your curiosity is satisfied, right?"

"I didn't say it was satisfied."

He stares at me hard for a moment, his eyebrows raised. At that shift in his expression, I feel my face getting warm, and I try to maintain composure. Did I really just say that out-loud and so pointedly? What was I thinking? What is HE thinking?

I decide to apologize. "Sorry," I say quickly, trying to laugh it off.

"No, you're... you're good," he says, though he's eyeing me a little differently. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How long have you been... 'curious'?"

I bite my lip a bit. "A little while, I guess," I say, thinking back to that night I jerked off to a nude photo of Zane. Fuck, why'd I delete that? "Since you broke it off with Jason."

"Not before?"

"Not really," I say with a shrug. "I never really thought about it 'til then."

"'It'?"

"You," I clarify, and his eyes open a little wider before he nods a bit to himself.

"Wow," he says softly.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just..." He scratches his scruffy little beard a bit, dragging his nails across his jaw. "It's just surprising."

I smile a little. "Surprised me too."

Zane laughs before looking at me, back to that soft smile that seems to relax me. "Why'd you wait so long?"

I blink. "What?"

"Woulda been nice if you were into me earlier. Save me the heartbreak." He grins in a way that makes me think he's teasing me.

"Whoa, whoa, I didn't say I was into you," I say with a laugh, holding my hands up.

"My apologies -- 'bicurious for me'," he corrects himself with a mocking tone, laughing.

I roll my eyes, half-chuckling. "Don't make fun of me right now."

"I'm serious!"

"How is that serious?"

He smiles. "I don't know," he says softly, almost in a whisper. He just stares at me, and after a moment, I feel nervous under his gaze because neither of us aren't looking away. Our eyes might drift slightly, but not far -- only to glance at eyebrows, or the hairline, or maybe the suddenly-all-too-fascinating shape of each other's lips. Fuck, his lips... Why do they look so incredibly enticing right now, more so than usual?

I think we're thinking the same thing, because both of us laugh nervously. They're soft laughs, small chuckles that allow us a reprieve from our staring contest in order to look away for a moment. But then, our faces are turned back towards each other within seconds. It can't just be me, right? He feels it too: the want. The desire.

I'm staring so intently back at Zane that I don't even notice his hand moving until I feel it touch my thigh. I almost jump, looking down at his thick fingers sliding up the side of my leg. When he sees that I don't stop him, he inches higher. His hand goes over my pocket and then smoothly shifts to my hip before coming to a rest at my side. I feel him grip a bit, and when I look at him, he tugs on my shirt as if asking me to come a little closer. So I do. I lean in, and he leans in, and, surprisingly smoothly, our lips come together.

Fuck. Fuck yes. He has the same idea as I do: no pecking, no coming up for air. These are deep kisses, lips mashing against each other by the force of necessity. I sure as hell needed this. I needed to kiss him again. Now that Zane is sober, though, his kisses feel even better than I remember, his lips softer and fuller. And when I tease him with a bit of tongue, he lets out a soft laugh against my lips, smiling before giving tongue back to me ten-fold. I start to lean into him more now, reaching forward to grasp at any article of clothing I can get my fingers around. Without looking, I manage to clutch onto his shirt, but it's right in the front, so terribly close to his groin. I can't tell if the back of my hand nudges his bulge or his thigh, but regardless, it excites me. It makes me deepen the kisses even more. All I can hear is our heavy inhaling, moan-filled exhales, and the lewd smacks of wet lips against lips. Zane's large hand rests on the back of my head, combing through my hair and keeping a firm grip on me that says "You're not going anywhere, Khalid."

Then: a knock on the door. It startles us both enough for us to abruptly pull back. We both stare at each other, breathing heavily for a moment, our lips damp with each other's saliva. I start laughing. I don't really know why, but I do, and Zane joins in briefly before there's another knock at the door and a muffled "Hello?" coming through it.

Zane rubs his hand over his face before standing up. I notice him adjust himself before he heads towards the door, and I realize that I have to do the same. My cock, somehow hard without me even really noticing during the kiss, is straining against my briefs at a weird angle. I reach in and shift my boner to the side before Zane opens the door. Quickly, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand as none other than Brad pops in.

"Forgot my fucking wallet," he says, heading right into the kitchen. Zane just stays by the open door, glancing at me with an amused sort of smirk. I listen to Brad shuffle around before he finds his wallet and then takes his leave. "Sorry. Thanks. See you Monday," he says to Zane.

Zane nods. "See ya," he says, shutting the door once Brad is gone. Once again he locks up, and once again he sighs before turning to me. This time, he smiles a bit and then rubs the back of his neck. "Fucking Brad."

I laugh. "Fucking Brad," I concur, nodding a little before leaning against the couch on my side.

Zane comes back over and then sits perpendicular to me, resting against the back of the couch. He seems to want to say something, so I wait for him to speak. "Question," he says, looking at me. "Are we doing this?"

"Seriously?" I ask, cocking my brow.

"What? I don't wanna push you into anything."

Fair, but I still laugh. "It's just weird when it doesn't happen... organically," I say.

He rolls his eyes. "So, you want me to organically put my cock in you?"

My eyes go wide before I see that he's grinning. "Are you k--?"

"Yes, I'm kidding," he says. "Unless...?"

"No."

He laughs. "I figured." Then he smiles a bit, his hand going back to my thigh. He gives it a light squeeze as he licks his lips. That's all the signal I need. I immediately lean forward, moving my hand to the back of his head to continue kissing him. We start over, start slower, taking the time to enjoy the feeling of each other's lips before we start to move a little more.

Soon, Zane starts to get more handsy, putting both of his hands at my sides before they move to my hips. Then, gripping the hem of my shirt, he starts to pull it up. Naturally, I lift my arms and pull back from his lips, letting him strip my crewneck off of my torso. He doesn't wait a moment to continue kissing me though. As he pulls my shirt off of my arms, his lips are moving right against mine like a dance, slow and methodical. I hear my shirt fall to the floor before Zane starts leaning into me more -- enough so that I end up on my back with him hovering over me.

When he breaks the kiss, I pant slightly, looking up at Zane. He just hits me with a little smile before starting to move down my body. One kiss on my chest, a quick lick of my nipple, dragging his scruffy chin across my stomach. I bite my lip a bit, watching him move closer and closer to my groin. His hands, which start from my pecs and then slide down my sides, grip onto my shorts and start tugging them down just as his lips reach the waistband. One good tug and my shorts are off my hips. My cock is exceptionally prominent right now, completely outlined in my briefs after I moved it to the side. Zane grins a bit at the sight of it before leaning in, opening his mouth, and attempting to wrap his lips around the head through the fabric. I moan softly, his saliva soaking the front of my briefs, his tongue pressing insistently at my cock. It's like a tease, watching him suck on me through my underwear.

Then, finally, he peels back my briefs, my cock flopping into view. He reaches forward and wraps his thick fingers around my member, making it throb. "I've always said you have a pretty cock," he says, smirking up at me as he rubs the side of my shaft against his face.

"Shut up," I mutter, my sensitive head being tickled by his facial hair. He just chuckles a bit before giving it one quick kiss and then engulfing me with his mouth. I moan out, my body relaxing. Fuck. I just sink into his warm, wet mouth, feeling myself drip with every lap of his tongue. My eyes close for a moment as he takes control of my pleasure with a firm grip and an eager mouth. I look down at him and watch closely, but while I'm also enjoying the sensations, I'm also studying. I'm watching the way he bobs up and down slowly before taking me into his throat, struggling for just a second before he can really sink down on me. I'm watching the way he pops off the tip of my cock to lap at the head or the sides of my shaft, lapping up any spit dripping down my member. I'm watching the way he kisses down to my balls and lets his tongue roll around each nut. These are things I have to keep in mind -- the way the lips, tongue, and throat work so nicely together.

Zane goes back to blowing me, guiding my cock back into his mouth before he grips my underwear more firmly. Then, he starts tugging it down my legs. Never once pulling off my cock, he manages to get my shorts and briefs off of me completely, tossing them to the floor with my shirt and leaving me naked. He fondles my balls gently with his fingers as he bobs up and down, tilting his head slowly as he moves. And then he switches things up by pulling off, lifting my balls, and darting his tongue underneath. Oh fuck. He remembers, doesn't he? I told him once that my taint is a weak spot for me. I don't know why, but when I feel a girl's tongue down there, my toes curl. It's no different with Zane. I groan softly, straining my toes as Zane drags his tongue over my taint over and over while stroking me.

After a minute, I start to sit up, and when I do, Zane pulls off, looking at me. I reel him in for a kiss, eager to get him naked now. I grab onto his polo, untucking it from his slacks before tugging it upwards. Just like when he stripped me, we separate to get his shirt off, but only until it's over his head. Then, our lips are right back where they belong as I tug his shirt off of his arms.

Once his shirt has joined mine on the floor, I move my lips to his neck. I hear Zane let out a little growl as he bares his neck to me. My hand slides right into his lap, undoing his belt and fly until I'm able to run my hand across his bulge again. Fuck, he feels good. So stiff, warm, male. Eager to see what's behind the fabric of his boxer briefs, I reach inside to fish his cock out. Zane leans back to give me better access, and I look down as I tuck his boxer briefs under his balls and pull his cock free, ogling its thick, uncut glory. I stroke him slowly, intently focused on the way the foreskin shifts before I look at him. His eyes flicker from my hand to my face, and he smiles.

I lean down -- not to kiss his lips, but to have a go at one of his nipples. I know they're incredibly sensitive. Zane's confided in me that his nipples are HIS weak point -- and boy, do I believe him. Zane groans loudly, in a higher pitched voice than I'm used to hearing from him, his beefy torso raising up higher as if struggling to decide whether or not he wants to pull away. I grin a bit, keeping my lips wrapped around that nub as I stroke his cock a little faster. His hand goes to the back of my head, tugging on my hair as I suck, lick, even bite a little. Zane just keeps swearing under his breath, half-laughing and half-moaning his ass off, all while his cock throbs in my grip.

When I finally give his nipple a rest, he exhales deeply, but I'm already moving down his body. I shift onto the floor, signaling for him to sit up so that I can try and do this properly. He slouches against the back of the couch, legs spread enough for me to get in between. I run my hands up his thighs, which are still covered by his slacks. I'm tempted to strip them off of him, but now that I've got his hard cock in my sights, so close, so within reach... I can't wait.

I glance up at Zane as my fingers find his cock again. "Don't judge me too hard, alright?"

He smiles. "I won't."

I lick my lips a bit before moving my eyes back to his cock. Now the nervousness is really starting to settle in. He looks so imposing up close. I hold it loosely in my fingers, stroking the underside of his shaft with my thumb before eyeing the head. That's another thing... How do I handle his foreskin? Do I suck over it? Do I peel it back?

Zane can sense me thinking too hard because he says "You don't have to blow me, you know."

I know he's being nice, but I've gone too far to just back out now. I have to at least see what it's like. "I just don't know how to go about this," I say with a laugh, looking up at him.

"Maybe... just... put it in your mouth?" he teases before laughing. "I'll guide you."

I nod a little before taking a breath. Here goes. I lean forward, tilting his cock towards my mouth, opening wide, and taking the head in. As I wrap my lips around it, I'm surprised by how much space he takes up. I make sure to avoid bumping him with my teeth as I bob up and down slightly. I feel Zane's hand on the back of my head, rubbing gently, and in a way, it relaxes me.

"Peel the skin ba-- Yeeeah," Zane says with a moan as I expose his head and let my tongue roam. It's so strange feeling the ridges of his cock against my tongue, tracing his glans knowing how good it feels to have this done to you. He's so warm in my mouth, and strangely soft even though he's raging hard right now. There's a taste too -- at first, it just tasted like nothing but skin, but then, something sweeter landed on my tongue. Precum?

Zane grips my hair just a little tighter as I start to bob my head up and down a little more. I try taking him in deeper, but that's a no-go. As soon as he hits my throat, I gag a bit and then pull off, laughing. "How the fuck do you do that?"

"Practice," Zane says, chuckling as he takes a hold of his cock.

I stretch out my mouth too, already feeling sore from just five minutes of it. "You're gonna give me fuckin' lockjaw," I say.

"Don't be so dramatic," Zane says with a grin before patting his thighs, signaling for me to hop onto his lap. I smile slightly, standing up with my hard cock swinging until I straddle him. He takes my hips in his hands before moving one hand right to my cock and giving it a good squeeze. I moan softly, pushing my hips forward into his fist, especially when he teases the head with his thumb.

"Fuck," I moan.

I hear Zane chuckle a bit before he leans up and pecks me on the lips. "I owe you," he says softly, and I'm confused as to what he means until he strokes me faster. An orgasm. That's what he owes me. He fell asleep before I got off when we were in his bed, and now, he's returning the favor. I grip his shoulder as he leans forward to spit down on my cock, giving his motions some lubrication.

His hand feels terribly good. I've always thought a good handjob is grossly underrated, and I'm sure anyone Zane has jerked off in the past would agree with me. I feel my hips pushing forward slightly as he works me faster, his fingers practically gliding across my cock, working in practiced twisting motions. He teases the head with every stroke, sending that sensual electric current through my cock and up my spine.

I look down at him as he jerks me off, and I notice his eyes roaming my torso, watching every muscle bulge and twitch from his ministrations. The urge to kiss is so overpowering that I'm barely conscious of myself leaning forward to catch his lips. I caught him off-guard for a split second, but he kisses me back eagerly, passionately, erotically. The perfect amount of tongue, the deep moans, the increased pace on my cock. I even feel his free hand slide around me, first working up and down my back before settling on my ass. I don't care. I let him grab it. It feels encouraging, almost, and I tug on his hair as I feel my orgasm build.

It hits me out of nowhere. I feel that tingly, pre-orgasm sensation at the base of my cock before, all of a sudden, the cum is spilling from my dick. I moan loudly against Zane, mostly in surprise before it gives way to total pleasure. Clutching onto him tightly, I tense and groan as Zane milks out my load all over the front of his body.

"Damn, you're a shooter," Zane says with a chuckle, squeezing the last of my load out.

I pant a bit, laughing slightly. I feel that dazed, post-orgasm delirium, and it takes me a second to come to. "Sorry."

"Don't. It's hot," he says, scooping up some of my load in his palm and then applying it directly to his cock. Then, he starts stroking himself, those slick noises of personal pleasure echoing off the walls. Zane's eyes roll back until they close, the front of his neck bared as he leans his head back against the top of the couch. I stay on his lap but watch, finding this scene intriguing and... well, hot. I loosely grab myself as I watch Zane work his thick cock up and down, totally focused on his own pleasure. Then, his free hand reaches down. At first I think he's going for his balls. But then his fingers disappear between his legs, behind his underwear, out of sight. Is he playing with his hole? I bite my lip, watching him stroke vigorously with one hand and rub insistently with the other. Fuck. Now I wish I had been patient and taken his pants off.

He doesn't last long though -- especially when I reach forward with my free hand and nudge his nipple. I take it between my fingers and gently pinch and pull and stroke. Quickly, Zane's orgasm builds until he's adding to the mess on his torso. His cum shoots up to his shoulder before spilling out between his pecs and upper abs. The rest dribbles down his shaft, over his thumb, until he slows his stroking to a halt and catches his breath.

Zane pants heavily, a soft smile on his face, catching his breath and pulling his hand out of his pants. I shift off of his lap but sit right next to him, both of us facing the television. But I'm eyeing the way we painted his furry body.

After a moment, Zane laughs. "What the fuck are we doing?" he mutters.

I laugh too. "I don't know."

I watch him as he runs both hands through his hair before looking over at me. "Can I ask you something?"

"What am I gonna do, say no?"

He smiles a bit, ignoring my snappy retort. "When you say you're curious...?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'?"

"I mean... Are you curious about sex, or...?"

"Or...?"

"Or a relationship?"

I stare at Zane. This is taking a turn, isn't it? He's really trying to pick my brain. "I mean... with any guy? No," I tell him, trying to avoid being too forward.

He nods a bit. Then: "What about with me?"

"Is that what you want?" I ask.

"Is that what YOU want?"

Seems we're getting nowhere answering each other's questions with more questions. "I don't know," I say honestly. Then, I tack on one little word at the end: "Maybe."

He nods a little, showing not much expression. "Okay."

I laugh. "'Okay'? That's all you have to say?"

"Yeah," he says with a laugh. "Sorry. I don't really know what to say right now."

"Just say anything," I tell him, though I'm sure it's strange lying there shirtless with cum all over your body, your dick still hanging out, and your best friend sitting naked beside you.

He looks at me. In actuality, he looks at my hip, and even nudges his hand an inch towards my thigh to nudge it with his knuckles -- though it feels more like a light caress than a nudge. "Remember when we went out the night I broke up with Jason? And you asked me if I had ever thought about you?"

I swallow thickly. "Yeah?"

"I lied," he says.

"Wow, another lie?"

He laughs. "I mean, come on, dude. Of COURSE I've thought about you," he says. "I'm a gay guy with a fucking hot best friend. You really think it hasn't crossed my mind a few times?"

"Just a few?" I tease.

"Yes, just a few," he says, and I believe him. I'm sure his thoughts about me are just dialed-down versions of how I've felt about Zane all week: fleeting thoughts, simple what-ifs, general curiosities. Zane has always known me to be 100% straight, so he has never put me in a compromising position, never expressed those short-lived feelings to me. "Then, after Saturday night..."

"What?"

He shrugs. "I just... wondered about you a little more."

I bite my lip a bit, trying to imagine what he's wondering. And I feel like I have an idea as to what that might be. "Why'd you ask me if I was curious about a relationship?"

"Curiosity," Zane teases with a tiny smirk.

"Fuck you," I say, reaching over to flick his dick.

He winces and laughs, slapping away before tugging his pants back up to cover his goods. "Don't be a dick," he says before relaxing again. I notice we're somehow sitting even closer. "Honestly, though, I really was curious."

"So it's not because you want a relationship with me?"

He shrugs again. "I didn't really give it any thought yet," he says, looking up at the ceiling as he ponders it. "I mean, you know me. I like a good relationship. But with you? It's not easy to judge, man," he says, looking at me now. "We're already so close, so there's that, and... I don't know. It's just... tough."

"Why's it tough?"

"Because I don't wanna latch onto the first guy that makes me feel good after feeling so fucking lonely lately," he says, looking at me hard. "Get me?"

I nod. "I get you." I chew on my bottom lip before asking a question that's suddenly pressing on my brain. "Remember when Brad said sex changes how you see someone?" When Zane nods, I ask him if he feels any differently about me.

He looks at me, clearly taking the time to think about it before saying "No, I don't think so."

"Okay."

"Do you? About me?"

"Besides the, uh...?" I gesture towards his body and his groin, and he laughs. "Besides that, no, I don't think so either."

"So it's just sex?" he questions.

I hesitate before nodding. "Just sex."

"Cool."

We stare at each other for a moment. What if it's not just sex, though? What if it's "more"? It's almost silly to think about our friendship evolving in that manner, but is that really so far-fetched of a thought? Is that even what I want? I look away, laughing slightly. This is crazy.

"What?" Zane asks.

"Just thinking about how weird it'd be if we dated," I say.

He chuckles. "Oh yeah. Good morning kisses--"

"Cutesy birthday presents--"

"--cuddling during movies--"

"--couples massages--"

"--sending you flowers on Valentine's Day--"

We both chuckle at the thought of doing all that and more under the "boyfriend" title. The funny thing is, though, we do a lot of those already. Maybe our birthday presents to each other aren't necessarily cutesy or romantic, but they're always damn thoughtful. We find ourselves half-cuddling a lot when we're idly lounging in the living room -- a leg draped over another, or a head in someone's lap, or an arm around the other's shoulder. We've done spa days together almost once a month ever since Zane begged me to go with him last summer. I even sent him flowers to his office last year because the hospital was doing a Valentine's fundraiser. I attached the corniest pick-up lines I could find, knowing Zane would get a kick out of it. He knew it was me, of course, but he kept the flowers all the same.

There's plenty we've done outside of those things that could be pushing normal "friend" boundaries too, like sharing underwear, borrowing each other's toothbrushes on occasion, grosser things like popping each other's back zits when we were a little younger, or funnier things me pulling a splinter out of Zane's ass that had somehow poked through his shorts after sitting on a wooden bench... Hell, the only things we don't do are kiss, hold hands, say "I love you" all the time, and have regular sex. But it's still a strange thought. "Imagine me introducing you as my boyfriend," I say with a snort.

Zane smiles. "You'd be a terrible boyfriend, anyway," he teases.

I hit his side. "Hey!"

He laughs. "What? I've seen your track record."

"I've changed, haven't I?"

"You haven't dated anyone since you've 'changed'," he says with a grin.

"I promise I'm better. Just trust me."

"Oh yeah?" he says. "Trust that you wouldn't cheat on me? Or flat out ignore me?"

"Baby, I couldn't ignore you," I joke, and when he rolls his eyes, I laugh.

"You're such an idiot," he mutters before putting his hands behind his head. The ease of that movement allows him to show off his body more. "Do you think it'd even be that different, though?"

I look at him curiously. "What?"

"Between us? If we were like, together, I mean."

"Um... I don't know." He seems to be thinking the same things I just was. "Being in a 'relationship' is different from just being friends, isn't it?"

"I guess," he says with a shrug. "But seriously, think about it." Now he sits up straighter, more so on the edge of the couch before turning to face me. "You know me better than anyone else. And vice versa. Through and through, right?"

"Sure," I say, smiling slightly.

"So what would really be that different?" he asks. "I mean, besides, y'know, sex and stuff."

I raise my eyebrow. "I don't know."

"It's just a title, right?"

I smirk slightly. "You saying we've low key been dating this whole time?"

He laughs. "I'm saying... I don't know what I'm saying," he decides, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. I chuckle to myself. "I guess just..." He tries to form a coherent thought but struggles and gives up. "I don't know. What should we do?"

I lick my lips slightly before clearing my throat. "I don't think we should take it too seriously," I suggest.

He nods a bit. "Sure. Yeah."

"But I'd be open to... exploring a bit?" I say warily.

He smiles a little broader before biting his lip. He looks at my chest for a long moment as he thinks before settling on something. "We could make an experiment out of it."

"An experiment?"

"Yeah. We could... give it a month."

"A month?"

"Yeah. We could try the whole dating thing. For one month."

"Okay. One month."

"You know, for fun."

"Sure."

"See where things go."

"Okay."

"And if anything happens... Great, right?"

"Right."

He stares at me, smiling slightly. "We doing this?"

I look back at him, feeling a stupid grin form on my face. "We're doing this."