They had been looking forward to this night for quite a while now. Life had been hectic. A time to relax, drink a little, and hopefully just have a good time with friends was as needed as it was welcome. It took some convincing, but Matt had finally managed to talk his boyfriend into it. After eight years of being together, you learn a few tricks to get away with throwing a party despite your shy and reserved boyfriend.
Jack had been quite stressed about work lately. It was starting to affect Matt in a way that was warping their relationship for the worse. Sex just wasn't what it used to be. Despite repeated attempts, Matt just didn't seem to be able to turn on his boyfriend anymore. It had been two weeks since their last handjob.
The doorbell rang ten minutes before nine. The time they had agreed with their friends.
"Guess Mason is here," Matt said as he made his way to the door.
The words got a weak smile out of Jack. If there was any resentment for having to throw a party he didn't want to be a part of, he managed to hide it.
Matt quickly stopped in front of the wide mirror they kept in their cramped entrance hall for a touch-up. Green eyes stared back as he checked every inch of his face for any imperfections he might have missed in the hour and a half he had spent in the bathroom. Everything seemed to be just as he wanted it to be, though. His full red lips contrasted against his pale skin, and the mole right above them, on his right side, worked in his favor as it always had.
Jack would always tease him about all the products and treatments he relentlessly applied to himself, to which Matt rarely responded. Hard to argue when the person you're supposed to argue against has a body made by a greek sculptor and flawless olive skin.
The frown those thoughts had brought dissipated just as quickly as Matt opened the door and found Mason standing there, with an easy smile and a bottle of expensive wine in his hands.
"Mattie!" He exclaimed with bombastic enthusiasm as he leaned in for a bear hug. "Been quite a while, huh?"
"Y-Yeah, it has!" Matt managed to reply while desperately trying to ignore a certain fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach that he refused to name.
The strong scent of an expensive cologne assaulted Matt's nose as he barely managed to wrap his arms around Mason's frame. Jack's friend was wearing his signature leather jacket despite the burning heat of the summer.
The hug lingered for a little longer than necessary. It might've lasted even longer if it wasn't for Matt's phone ringing in his pocket.
Mason stepped back, his brown eyes discreetly dancing down Matt's slim figure the way he always did whenever they met. And, like usual, Matt pretended not to notice. He took his phone out, using it as an excuse to cover the raging hard-on he was now sporting.
"Jack inside?" Mason asked with his gruff voice.
"He's making drinks in the kitchen," Matt nodded sheepishly.
"What?! I thought we were getting drunk! Why would you let the soft boy make the drinks?" Mason's tone had a playful accusation to it. One of those little acts that middle-aged white dads like to put on and pretend it's the funniest thing in the world.
"Not my fault!" Matt shrugged, following along as he always did. "He said he's found a new recipe."
"New recipe, my ass!" Mason put his massive hand on Matt's shoulder, gently pushing him to the side to make his way inside the house with the confidence of a friend that had been so for eight years. "YOU! PUT THAT BOTTLE DOWN RIGHT NOW!"
Matt could hear the two best friends shouting playfully at each other. He allowed himself a moment to put himself back together, as the feeling of Mason's hand touching him had him reeling as if he had been shocked with a taser.
Battling the tent in his pants, Matt fought to remind himself of the actual reason why he had invited Mason over in the first place.
About seven years ago, when he and Jack were barely starting to date, Matt committed the drunken mistake of admitting to his new boyfriend that he had a crush on his best friend. Multiple fights sprang out from that stupid night.
Over time, Jack developed a sense of insecurity whenever Matt and Mason were in the same room together. So for the next few years, Matt resolved to keep any interactions with his boyfriend's best friend at a minimum and to always keep someone else in the room if they absolutely had to be in the same place together.
Up until tonight, he had upheld his resolve to a "T".
2
Matt hastily replied to the text he had received earlier and, with his dick no longer trying to explode in his pants, made his way back into the house.
Matt had a habit of nervously running his fingers through his blonde hair despite it not being long enough to cover his eyes or bother him in any way. Jack would always scold him, telling him he would go bald by thirty if he kept it up. Little did he know, after tonight, Matt might actually end up a bald twenty-four-year-old.
The shouting had stopped. Matt found Jack and Mason in the back, getting the barbeque ready while Jack recounted the events since the last time they'd spoken.
"...which is crazy! Y'know?" The beaming smile on his boyfriend's face sent a pang of regret for what Matt was about to do.
Despite Jack's insecurities regarding his boyfriend, he and Mason had been best friends their entire lives. That hadn't changed. It was uncanny how Jack's face lit up anytime he and shared time together.
"There he is! Mattie, come here!" Mason exclaimed as soon as Matt made it through the door. Once again, he scanned Matt's figure with a smirk. Jack, however, didn't seem to notice a thing. Not from Mason, at least.
"What is it?" He shot. Matt panicked for a moment but quickly regained his composure.
"Paul and Alex can't make it," he replied to his boyfriend with what he hoped was a convincing grimace.
Jack clenched his jaw as a mix of different emotions flashed through his face in a moment. Funnily enough, Matt knew exactly how to read every one of them.
Relieved that he wouldn't have to socialize with as many people. Curious as to why they might have canceled last minute. Happy to know he got to spend the night with his best friend. Tense that his boyfriend would also be there.
"Wait, wait!" Mason shouted, unknowingly interrupting his friend's mental trainwreck. "How the hell did you even know something was going on, Jackie?"
"I always know when something is going on with him," Jack replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He and Matt glanced at each other as if they were communicating in a secret language known only to them and shared a small smile.
"That's just weird." The look on Mason's face as he tried to decipher what had just happened was priceless.
And just like that, any tension in the air dissipated as soon as Jack burst into laughter.
"We need to get you a boyfriend, man," Jack told his confused friend. "You're getting old."
"Oh, you're one to talk!" Mason immediately shot back, alluding to the fact that they were almost exactly the same age.
Mason and Jack's moms had become best friends during High School and had remained so for the rest of their lives. They were so close that they even got pregnant by their respective boyfriends during the same party, meaning that Mason and Jack had been born precisely twenty-six years ago, only four days apart. In Matt's opinion, the whole thing was freaky, but they always told the story to other people as if it was the greatest friendship achievement ever.
"Alright, I'm gonna go get those `new recipe' drinks," Matt finally announced, trying to prevent his better half from returning to his previous thoughts.
"I gotta go change. Do you mind watching this?" Jack asked his friend, who simply shrugged in agreement.
They stepped into the kitchen together. The sound of the door shutting behind them set blaring alarms in Matt's head.
"Matt."
There it was.
"What's up?" He tried a lighter tone, but Jack's expression was stern.
His boyfriend was always clean-shaven, showing a sharp jaw that wasn't as square as Mason's. Jack's was more angular. Elegant was the first word that came to Matt's head anytime he thought about it. The guy gave off a refined aura with his stylized short, black hair and dark olive skin; a heritage from his Pakistani ascendancy.
"I think we should call this off."
"Don't be ridiculous, Jack."
"I don't like this."
"It's been eight years!" Matt kept his voice low, but his tone conveyed what he meant regardless. "Nothing is going to happen. We've gone out together more times than I can remember!"
"We're always with other people, though," For a second there, Matt could've sworn his boyfriend was about to pout. "I don't want him alone around you."
That guilty pang stroke again. Was Jack that perceptive? Could he really tell that, after seven years, Matt was still hopelessly unable to get over his feelings for his boyfriend's childhood friend?
"Jack, seriously, you have nothing to worry about," Matt blatantly lied as he edged closer and closer to the other's beautifully sculpted body. "I'm yours, remember?"
Jack welcomed him in his arms, wrapping them around and pressing Matt tight against his taller frame. Matt pulled his head back and stared into his man's deep black eyes. Their lips joined instinctively. They repeated the action a few times and, every time they did, a new sense of relief started to wash over Matt's body.
Such a long time had passed since they last shared an intimate moment like that. Life had been getting in the way, yes, but that wasn't a good enough excuse not to show each other they still loved the other just as much as the first day.
Something hard pocked against Matt's navel, prompting a smile.
"Perhaps when he's gone, I can show you why I'm still yours," Matt suggested with a cheeky voice as he pressed the palm of his hand between Jack's legs.
"Oh, is that the only reason why?" Jack responded, raising his eyebrows.
"Well, not the only reason, but certainly a pretty big one."
His boyfriend chuckled and gave him one more quick kiss before parting ways and running up the stairs to his room to change. Butterflies danced in Matt's stomach as if they had been brought back to life with true love's kisses. He took a wooden tray with way more cocktail glasses containing some mysterious red liquid than they could possibly need and headed back outside to meet Mason.
"I thought you guys went on a fuck tour and left me all alone with the meat!" He exclaimed as soon as he saw Matt.
"I wish," Matt blurted out and immediately regretted it.
"You wish? Something you wanna share, Mattie?" Nothing got past the guard dog.
"Nah, just the horny talking." The intense blushing creeping up on Matt's face prompted him to walk past Mason and leave the tray on the small wooden table Jack's dad had made when he was little.
Setting the comically large amount of glasses on the table for no other reason than to keep himself occupied with something other than feeling Mason's eyes all over his body, Matt felt like he was fighting a losing battle.
"I see," Mason seemed to drop the subject right there, to Matt's relief.
A few seconds passed in silence. Matt ran out of glasses to move around pointlessly, so he took one and started to sip. The drink wasn't half bad. It was sweet but strong, leaving a pleasant taste in his mouth.
Once his embarrassment had died down a little, his mind started to wander.
The party where he met Mason for the first time was way louder than this one. It was a gay rave thrown during Pride month in his freshman year of college. Matt had to beg for an entire month to convince Jack to go. But even once he did manage to convince him, it was only under the condition that it would be just the two of them. Easy to agree when he didn't know all that many people anyway.
Mason did know a lot of people. Someone from Jack and Matt's college had invited him and, in his own words, `he just had to'.
At some point, Jack had to go to the restroom, leaving Matt alone at the bar. His boyfriend refused to dance, which was frustrating, but he managed by downing his fifth generically named drink that night. There was a slim but well-built jock dancing just a few feet away from him. Matt could still remember every line in Mason's body despite his drunkenness. Flashing brown eyes looked at the twink sitting alone at the bar with no one to dance with. Mason approached and, without saying a word, laid his hands on the twink's waist, pulling him towards the dance floor where they spent a glorious few minutes, rubbing their bodies against each other to the frenetic rhythm of the blaring music.
"Mason?!"
"Jackie?!"
That was the end of the mysterious stranger fantasy for Matt. His boyfriend turned out to be best friends with him. There were many more fantasies --and problems-- after that night, though.
Distracted by that blast to the past, Matt accidentally let his curiosity get the best of him... again. His eyes were drawn towards Mason as if pulled by a magnetic force. The handsome jock had been quiet for a while, which was unusual in him.
Initially, the magnetic pull wasn't quite strong enough, which allowed Matt to perform a close examination of his secret crush's features.
Mason had a sharp square jaw he liked to cover in a meticulously cared-for stubble beard that seemed to match flawlessly with his side part brown hair. As if it were all part of a perfectly matching set. He wore the same hairstyle as Matt himself, in fact, only slightly shorter. Of course, it looked way sexier on him, but then again, everything did.
The jock's eyes were a deep, calming brown. They made Matt uneasy, as they always managed to stir up that unnamable fluttery feeling in his stomach. The magnets had latched on now. Against the power of his intense gaze, Matt felt helpless. Surrender seemed like the only option. Mason didn't say a word, but he didn't need to. Other times, whenever he slid his gaze suggestively all over Matt's body, it always felt like a game. The way some people find enjoyment in making others uneasy. This time, however, it felt different. It felt imperative.
In retrospect, jeans and a white shirt were the wrong choice of clothing for that night. They were restrictive, impeding Matt's excitement from showing and tightening around his chest in a way that didn't let him breathe. Perhaps Mason would be willing to help with that.
One tiny fraction of the muscle in his legs moved before he heard the door's handle turning, brutally waking him up from his trance and ripping him apart from the prison that was Mason's eyes.
"...so yeah, Jack's been preoccupied with that new promotion. I've been busy trying to get my little brother to go back to my mom's house. We thought we deserved a night off, you know?" Matt spattered while reaching for a second glass.
"Yeah, that makes perfect sense. That's why you called the heart of every party right here!" Mason replied with a tone that made Matt jealous of his acting skills.
Jack didn't seem to notice anything different as he took his spot next to Mason to look over the burgers. He had changed into Matt's favorite plaid shirt, the pattern twisting and morphing around his muscles in the sexiest way. Once again, Matt felt a guilty pang from his moment of weakness.
They made small talk for another half hour until the food was finally ready. The drinks Jack had made were a complete success as they managed to remove some of Matt's leftover awkwardness from that small encounter.
It was a beautiful summer night. They talked, laughed, and looked at the stars. The white and tall picket fence surrounding them provided a secluded and mostly silent environment. Not that one could expect anything else from a suburb in the middle of a rural town.
3
A comfortable life, eight years in the making. Lately, it was the very first time they were going through a significant rough patch since they had moved in together after Jack's parents had passed away, leaving the house as an inheritance. Jack had been devastated. To be fair, Matt had taken it pretty hard as well. He had only known Peter and Angela for a couple of years, but they had always been lovely to their only son's boyfriend. Moving in together helped them both heal and eventually move on.
"Are you that drunk already?" Jack asked mockingly.
"What?! No!" Matt's response was louder than he might've intended.
"You're staring at nothing again!"
"You guys are weak sauce!" Mason laughed and slammed his fist on the table.
The banter continued back and forth for a while. Eventually, the conversation died out in favor of the phone browsing sequence of the night. Matt leaned his head against his boyfriend's shoulder and stared blankly at Jack's phone while stealing furtive glances at Mason, who was conveniently seated right in front of him. Though, the jock didn't seem too interested in rekindling the moment they had shared now that they were in the presence of his friend and simply ignored Matt's attempts.
A mix of boredom and alcohol eventually led to Matt biting his lip the way a kid does whenever they're about to do something they shouldn't.
Jack had been way more cheerful that night than he had seen him in quite a long time. He even got hard when he and Matt kissed in the kitchen! Two things that hadn't happened in too long. With his mood so lifted, perhaps he'd be willing to play a naughty game.
As Mason burst into laughter for the fifth time since he had picked up his phone, Matt took advantage of the distraction and slipped his hand under the table, landing precisely on Jack's thick muscle thigh.
His boyfriend froze but didn't give any other indication that he'd be inclined to stop what was happening. A big happy smile drew on Matt's face.
The game was simple: anytime Mason laughed or showed them a funny meme, Matt's hand would move slightly higher through Jack's inner thigh. Sometimes it would be two moves in quick succession, while other times, there would be a few minutes' pause when Matt would just use his fingers to caress his boyfriend's leg softly, patiently waiting.
Unfortunately, as much as Matt would have loved to keep teasing his boyfriend for hours on end, he couldn't stop himself from reaching his prize. A girthy six inches bulge got in his way. A bulge he happily stroked over and over again, feeling it throb under the palm of his hand.
All that teasing was making Matt ravenous. This was the most exciting action he had had in months. If Jack decided to even just so much as look at him at that moment, Matt would've cum without touching himself. Unfortunately, he was a very loud cummer, so the possibility should definitely stay off the table if they were to keep their little game a secret.
"Did you see Allison's new boyfriend, by the way?" Mason loved to gossip like he was in the cast of Mean Girls, and Jack loved to follow along. "Dude is jacked!"
"Let me see, let me see!" Jack used his legs to lift himself and lean over the table to get a good view of his friend's phone. The position conveniently allowed Matt to quickly undo his boyfriend's pants with surprising dexterity. They gossiped for a few seconds, and Jack sat back down.
Leaning his head against Jack'sshoulder, Matt noticed his partner wasn't scrolling anymore. He wondered what the other might be thinking to keep himself sane.
Just as Mason found "the funniest meme ever" for the fifth time, Matt's hand found its way into his boyfriend's pants. What he found there made him struggle to contain a gasp of surprise, but he quickly managed to disguise it with a classic cough cover-up.
Jack was going commando.
There was absolutely nothing stopping Matt from reaching his lover's girthy cock and stroking it eagerly, trying desperately to get it to spill out his reward for making such a delicious discovery.
Nothing; except for one small intrusive thought:
What if he was sitting on the other side of the table?
What if, instead of his boyfriend, he was stroking his boyfriend's best friend while Jack innocently scrolled through his phone? How big was Mason? Would Matt's fingers be able to close around his dick the way they did with Jack's? What if they got caught? What would Jack say?
Matt was staring directly at the massive jock's eyes now, daring him to look back at him, to recognize what his presence was doing to the twink. The entire world seemed to vanish for a moment. Only Mason existed, as well as his dick, inside Matt's hand. And then, it worked.
Mason looked up. Their eyes met. A wildfire ignited, fueled by a hidden desire that had lasted seven years.
Or so Matt thought.
"Well!" Mason slammed his phone on the table, startling Matt and his partner. "I think it's about damn time I get going!"
"Yeah, I mean you have that-- that game tomorrow!" Jack rushed to agree, stuttering as he tried to regain his composure.
Mason was a professional Tennis player. Matt had been to a few of his games. They were a lot more entertaining than he had initially given them credit for. Who would've thought that seeing two hunks swinging rackets and groaning loudly from the effort for hours on end could be so amusing?
"It's just a friendly match. I wouldn't have drunk otherwise. You guys coming?" Mason shrugged nonchalantly.
"Absolutely!" Jack replied before Matt had a chance to get a word in. Not that he would've responded anything else anyway.
"I'm gonna get all this inside," Matt mumbled as he rushed to stack the plates and glasses they had used. Now that the moment had passed, he was starting to feel a bit of post-teasing-clarity embarrassment.
"Let me help you out. I could use a glass of water to clear the fuzz before I head home," Mason offered. Matt couldn't think of any excuse to refuse him.
Together they picked everything up while Jack sat there awkwardly, trying to hide the crime scene between his legs.
4
For the second time that night, Matt's heart started beating furiously inside his chest as soon as he heard the kitchen door shut behind him. He nervously dropped everything he was carrying into the sink and opened the faucet. He saw Mason do the same with the stuff he was carrying and then reach for a clean glass on the cupboard directly above Matt's head.
As he did that, the professional Tennis player innocently laid a hand on Matt's waist, sending the twink down a spiral of adrenaline and electric anxiety. Every last drop of air immediately abandoned Matt's lungs as if they were full of poison. He felt about to pass out any moment.
"What game are you playing, little twink?" Matt felt the other's warm breath on the back of his neck before he even heard the words.
He couldn't muster any answer other than a soft whimper, even if he wanted to.
As Mason took the glass and filled it with the water pouring out of the faucet, his hand didn't leave that burning spot. Not even for a second.
The risk of having Jack barge through the door any second was like torture. A beautifully delicious one. With this one gesture, Mason was putting not only his life-long friendship with Jack on the line; but also Matt's own eight-year relationship. All of it could crumble in seconds.
The knowledge of that possibility alone should've been enough to make them stop, but it had the opposite effect on Matt. Morbid curiosity drove him to wonder how much further they could push the boundaries of this situation, what else they could do before getting caught, and how much would they be able to explain away if Jack did catch them.
How did it get to this? Matt had spent so much time carefully finding an appropriate night when he knew Jack couldn't find an excuse to slip away. He had planned every last detail. Even the fact that he would push Jack to make the drinks because he knew Jack liked to use liquor, and liquor always put him in a good mood.
Inviting Mason was also part of the plan. Matt wanted to make Jack jealous. There was no better way to do that than with the person Jack still believed, after eight years, that Matt had a crush on.
So how did things get out of control so badly?
"Can you at least fucking try to hide it?"
"Oh shit! Jackie!"
Matt turned around quickly. The impulse to throw up was stopped only by the lump in his throat. He hadn't realized when Mason had let go of him. The feeling of his hand still lingered on Matt's skin.
"Don't say a fucking word, Mason!" Jack's face was a furious red.
It was almost impossible to tell if his boyfriend was shaking or if the tears in Matt's eyes were the ones giving the illusion of it.
"J-Jack..." He managed to say before his partner's elegant features turned to look at him.
"I trusted you," Jack launched that accusation like a dart, straight for Matt's heart.
The wonderfully sexy fantasy Matt had been living in up until that moment had now turned into a very real nightmare. Unfortunately for him, there was no satisfaction in this.
Jack was an introvert before all else. Not a man of big words or loud arguments. He simply stormed his way up the stairs; to the room he had shared with Matt for the past eight years.
5
"Jackie, you're blowing this way out of proportion! I just happened to graze him while I was reaching for the cupboard, that's all," Mason had sprung into action as soon as he saw Jack coming down the stairs with a suitcase.
Jack's hand moved faster than his friend could react. The glass he was still holding in his hand flew through the air, smashing against the closest wall and covering Mason in tepid water.
"Stop fucking lying to me," Jack replied with gritted teeth.
Matt wanted to say a million things to his partner. A mix of emotions and thoughts swirled inside of him.
"All of this could've been avoided if you hadn't abandoned me in the first place!"
"It's all my fault! Please don't go! Things got out of hand, but it won't happen again!"
"You're overreacting! It was barely a touch!"
None of it made it out. Matt couldn't speak, couldn't move, as he watched his lover walk out the door and slam it behind him without even a second look back.
6
A heavy silence had squeezed all the air out of the room. Only Matt and Mason's regrets were left to linger between them after they heard Jack's car take off half an hour ago.
"I should go," Mason said with a dry voice, startling Matt.
"Wait," Matt stopped him. "You should take a dry shirt. You could catch a cold."
None of them mentioned the fact that colds were in short supply in the middle of the summer. Instead, they headed upstairs to the room that was now a complete mess of scattered clothes that Jack had dropped in his rush.
"Take that off," Matt commanded in a weak voice as he dug through what was left of his partner's closet.
Mason complied, taking his leather jacket off and then his grey shirt, leaving them carefully on top of the bed.
"Here," Matt turned around to hand over a white t-shirt with a picture of Baby Yoda that one of his friends had gifted Jack as a joke a while ago.
It felt so wrong that, despite everything that had happened that night, Matt still found his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Mason's bare torso.
Surprisingly, the jock had a slimmer waist than Jack himself. More of an inverse triangle build. The V-lines that Jack had struggled for years to achieve seemed to draw effortlessly on Mason's body as if they were a perfectly drawn track, guiding Matt's eyes to where they wanted to go. A feeling accentuated even more by the thin trail of black hair that traveled from his small navel, down into his jeans.
Perfectly symmetrical abs like those were the result of a lucky lottery ticket in the genetics pool, much more pleasing to look at than Matt's own boyfriend's ever were. All of it was crowned by a massive pair of pecs, no doubt the result of years of swinging a racket. If the situation had been slightly different, Matt would've asked to bite them... and then done it anyway. They were joined at the shoulders by a pair of huge arms that were also likely the result of perfecting the art of his sport.
"You've been teasing me all night," Mason said. Matt realized he still hadn't taken the t-shirt he was offering.
"I just looked at you," He defended himself. "You were the one touching me."
"You think I don't know what you were doing under the table while you stared at me?"
"If you knew, why didn't you respond?"
"I did. I touched you, remember?"
He was right. Matt was at a loss for words.
"Do you want to leave Jack?"
The blatant question took Matt by surprise. He thought about it for a minute or two before he chose a carefully crafted response:
"No, of course not! I just wanted to make him jealous, so we could go back to being a normal couple..." Matt confessed.
Despite not really wanting to discuss this right now or say anything else, suddenly it was as if he couldn't stop his mouth from moving anymore.
"...He's been stressed out about his work, and I've had stuff in my mind too, but I never stopped wanting to be intimate with him. Even when he was having trouble performing. I think he was just getting in his head because I didn't cum a few times. But one day he just stopped touching me, and then he stopped kissing me or telling me he loved me. I've been panicking ever since, and I thought if I could bring you here and make him jealous, I could perhaps ignite something in him so that he would go back to being the same."
As he spoke, Matt felt a lump build up in his throat, and by the time he was done, he was sobbing into the shirt he had just offered to his partner's best friend.
Mason waited to make sure everything had come out before he gave his response:
"So why were you looking at me that way all night, even when he wasn't there?"
"I don't know!" Matt replied, annoyed. "Why were you looking at me that way all night?"
"Because I haven't stopped wanting you since that night at the rave when we met." He responded without hesitation. His tone was unwavering. It carried the certainty of someone who had been waiting to say such a thing for years.
Another dart of uncertainty shot at Matt's chest. He didn't know how many more he could take that night.
"You haven't been the most subtle about it." He finally replied.
"To be blunt, I've liked your body since the first time we danced together. I've cummed more times than I can count to the thought of your lips. I've always entertained the idea of being your rebound sex if you ever broke up with Jack because I don't think it would be right to date you after that. But I couldn't tell you any of those things because you were-- you are with him."
"Why did you tell me tonight?" Matt had stopped crying. He fixed his gaze on Mason's beautifully sculpted torso, feeling incapable of meeting the other's eyes.
"Tonight was different..." Mason sighed. "...because you flirted with me. And I wasn't strong enough to stop myself."
The truth of that statement hung heavily in the air; as if waiting to be picked up. Finally, Mason took a step forward. His chest was almost touching Matt's face.
The effects of the alcohol had washed away a while ago, but the familiar scent of the jock's cologne seemed to have the same effect on Matt. He felt drunk. Drunk with a desire he shouldn't have.
Finally, a name for that fluttery feeling at the pit of his stomach:
Desire.
"I don't know why I did that," he admitted with a whisper.
Mason's big hand descended to grab Matt's chin and lift his gaze so they could meet. One more time that night, they looked into each other's eyes and fell into a hypnotic trance.
"You've been frustrated, dissatisfied, craving someone's touch for months," Mason stated the facts as plainly as if he was talking about the hot summer weather. "Stop me if I'm wrong."
Matt simply stood silent. A certain warmth spread through his face at hearing his secrets spilled out in the open like that. There was no running away or hiding anymore, as Mason still held his chin, and his brown eyes were linked magnetically to Matt's green ones.
"Give me your consent for this one night. In the morning, we'll pretend it never happened. You can call Jack and convince him that it was just a touch. It didn't mean anything. I will get my wish of having you for myself, and I swear to you, Mattie, I won't ever flirt or insinuate myself to you in any way ever again."
The decision was already made a long time ago. Way before this night ever happened. It was made on a dance floor on a different summer night. And then it was made again and again over the years.
Deep, very deep inside Matt's mind, in a place where he didn't dare ever visit, he had always known:
I would've chosen Mason if he had come first.
8
Consent was given in a nod so tenuous that Matt was about to repeat it. But before he could do that, he saw Mason rapidly approaching; there was no time to react. Their lips touched for the very first time in an explosion of adrenaline and raw excitement.
It was the middle of the night, probably around three am. They were alone in a dimly lit room, in a small house in the suburbs of a rural town. There was no one around to know or care about what was happening, but Matt felt like the entire world had just stopped and now held its breath looking at them.
Eight years without kissing anyone other than his boyfriend made Matt feel like a complete amateur. He didn't know what to do with himself. Luckily, Mason was in control.
The grip on the twink's face hadn't budged, holding him in place while the jock fell into a slow and sensual rhythm. As soon as he felt Matt following along, Mason pressed slightly harder against the other's face to make sure their mouths were completely locked to each other.
Then he opened that lock just enough so his warm tongue could firmly invade Matt's timid mouth.
In many ways, the sensation closely resembled the act of being penetrated by someone. Matt had to relax his lips to allow his new lover the freedom he needed to fill him with pleasure. It was wet, warm, and it smelled like cherries due to the drinks they had had earlier that night.
The guilt that still lingered in Matt's chest was fighting a losing battle. Every swirl of Mason's tongue, every time it touched Matt's and invited it to dance together and exchange each other's tastes, that same guilt turned into an overwhelming pleasure that was becoming harder to ignore.
Once they found themselves entirely tied to one another, Mason suddenly let go of Matt's delicate face, wrapping his massive Tennis-player arms around the small of the twink's back. Matt responded in kind, throwing his arms around the player's neck. The action drew a satisfied grunt from deep inside Mason's chest.
"Mason..." Matt called once their lips finally parted to look for breath. "Mason..."
The jock looked into Matt's eyes to look for any warning signs. Instead, all he found was a burning desire, which made him smile with satisfaction and continue his attentions.
By leaving small kisses up the twink's jaw, all the way to his ear, Mason made sure his prey wouldn't escape. Matt's legs were turning putty.
"What do you want?" The older guy asked with a gruff voice, loaded with intent.
"Mason," the name tasted as sweet on Matt's tongue as the cherry flavor that still lingered on his lips. "I want... you... I want... that..."
"Say it," Mason commanded while his arms pulled Matt against his massive body, possessively.
Something big pressed against the twink's slim stomach. It was difficult to tell what it was with such a size. Matt was hesitant to come to the obvious conclusion.
Moving his mouth next to Mason's ear this time, he said:
"I want your dick in my mouth," A rush of warmth flashed through his face. Matt's heart skipped a bit, feeling like a kid who had just whispered a bad word to a friend. Jack had never enjoyed using vulgar words in bed, so Matt wasn't sure how to do it or, at least, how to make it sexy.
Mason chuckled. His hand landed heavily on the twink's shoulder, gently pushing down. Matt complied eagerly. From this angle, the tennis player looked twice as big as before. The light bounced off every dip and curve formed by the alluring muscles hugging his torso.
"Whenever you're ready," Mason's voice boomed from above. His hand had moved from shoulder to the top of Matt's head, where he gently ruffled the younger guy's hair.
Matt nodded and lowered his eyes, taking the time to enjoy every inch of that sculpted body and its skin seemingly made of gold. Each of his hands rested at the sides of Mason's narrow waist, exactly where the sharp V started, and they traced it slowly.
The lines ended up abruptly where they met the white elastic band of what looked to be otherwise black boxer briefs. Matt made quick work of the buttons holding Mason's jeans wrapped around his prize, getting more and more impatient but still wanting to enjoy every moment of it.
"God, you're killing me, Mattie. Get on with it," Mason implored.
Matt missed the heavy sound the pants made as they dropped to the floor, distracted as he was with the new sight in front of his eyes.
Under the thin fabric of the restricting boxer briefs hid an absolute monster. Easily eight inches long, it was warm to Matt's hands as he explored its shape with fascination. As thick as his forearm, it was leaking sweet precum already, wetting the fabric. Matt licked and sucked eagerly, trying to get a preliminary taste before the big reveal.
The calloused hand still on his head closed around a fist of his hair and pulled back slowly, getting Matt's attention.
"Stop. Teasing. Start. Sucking." The hand let go, but Matt still hesitated, so Mason asked: "What's wrong?"
"I've just never seen one this big," the twink admitted embarrassingly. "I don't think I can take all that in my mouth."
"You don't have to swallow it whole," Mason replied with a gentle but firm tone, as his patience was apparently starting to drain. "Did Jack make you swallow his whole?"
"He didn't make me," Matt corrected and continued under his breath: "It was easy with his."
"I guess it's about time you learn what a real cock is, then," There was a hint of pride there.
Without another word, Matt pulled on the elastic band. Lower and lower until the monster sprang out to life. It was throbbing in anticipation, the head glistening with precum.
The realization of what he was about to do hit him like a truck at that moment. There was no going back from this. A kiss was on a much less shitty level than a full-on blowjob. By doing this he was sealing his betrayal of Jack. His eight-year-long relationship could end if this ever came out.
Matt wanted to feel bad almost as much as he wanted that piece of throbbing meat in his mouth, but the more he thought about it, the more the air escaped from his lungs, and a delicious feeling stretched at the pit of his stomach, like a full-body erection. If this is what betrayal felt like, he didn't ever want to stop doing it.
Wrapping his two hands around the thick shaft, he placed his lips around the pink head and kissed it. His tongue, shy at first, eventually found the courage to slide under it, over it, and in front of it, tasting the salty liquid that was only making Matt thirstier.
Gradually, he started to slide his hands down, all the way to the bottom, and then up again. Mason was loud; way louder than his best friend, moaning and grunting with every flick of Matt's tongue.
Once he managed to get a decent idea of the size of the throbbing fuck-stick, the twink started to experiment a little bit more. Sliding down and counting how many seconds it took him to reach the base, then kissing his way up and doing it all over again on the other side.
Everything was clean-shaven, which was refreshing as it allowed Matt to shove the man's massive balls in his mouth. Or at least try, as one was more than enough to fill his entire fuck-hole.
"I'll cum way sooner than any of us want if you do that," The hung jock grunted and Matt relented, going back to service his thick shaft.
After a few more minutes, the tight jeans Matt had chosen to wear that night started to turn out to be a terrible choice. Being more excited than he had been in months, the unyielding fabric was turning into an uncomfortable problem. Freeing one of his hands, he moved the other one down Mason's lengthy cock, tracing behind it with his tongue, hoping the man wouldn't notice the absence while he tried to fix his own hard-on.
"Mattie," Taken aback, Matt looked up. Mason was staring down at him with fire in his eyes. "Take your clothes off."
"What?"
"I want you to enjoy yourself, too."
For all the utterly horrible behavior they were engaging in, this man just kept coming up with more and more new ways of making himself sexier.
Matt unbuttoned his white shirt hastily, taking it off and throwing it to the side without consideration; barely noticing Mason's eyes all over him as he continued stroking himself.
A great sense of relief spread over Matt as he was finally able to free his poor dick from its cage. However, just as he realized what he had done, he rushed to cover himself with his hands. He had a reasonable tool of about six and a half inches. It was nice, but he knew Jack had always been insecure about it due to him being considerably smaller.
Lost in that quick succession of thoughts, he was taken by surprise when Mason approached him and placed his hands on the smaller guy's chest. As if he wanted to see with his hands, he explored every inch of Matt's naked torso, including his waist, and even reached down for his covered dick.
Matt gasped in surprise. Jack had never touched him like that. He had forgotten what it felt like. A small moan escaped his lips, but it didn't get far. Mason caught it and pushed it back into Matt's mouth with his rough tongue. They kissed again while Matt swayed his hips slightly to thrust into his lover's hand, enjoying the feeling.
"You're gorgeous, Mattie," The big guy whispered when they stopped for air.
Nothing that came to Matt's mind sounded right as a response to that, so instead of saying anything, he decided to drop to his knees once more and resume where he had left off.
This time, though, he grabbed a hold of that fat piece with both hands and immediately shoved it in his mouth. One hand kept Mason's cock in place while the other traveled down to the base, and lower, to his loaded balls. Massaging them gently, Matt moved his head deeper, feeling his entire mouth fill up with a warm mass that pulsated in anticipation of every second that went by.
Relaxing his throat as much as he thought he possibly could, Matt pushed himself to take as much of the big guy's throbbing meat as possible. He wriggled his tongue under it, felt the little drops of precum continuing to pour out, and struggled to swallow them.
The back of his throat hit home sooner than he had expected, there was still so much to go, and Mason was moaning louder with every new inch Matt managed to take. The shaft was so warm on his lips; the veins were pulsating against them and on his tongue. It made him wish so bad that he could do what he was about to attempt.
He'd read about it dozens of times, heard it from other friends, and even saw it in porn a few times. It couldn't be that hard.
Matt focused again on relaxing his throat even more and moved his head down. One more inch, he could feel Mason latched in his throat. Breathing wasn't possible anymore, so he had to hurry if he wanted to make it all the way. He got to work diligently, hoping desperately to feel his load shooting down his throat.
Unfortunately, it was too much. Mason was so big, that Matt felt overwhelmed, gagged, and pulled out.
"You alright?"
Matt nodded in confirmation. "How much was it?" He asked with curiosity.
"About half of it," Mason replied with a smile in his voice. "Not bad."
"Mason," Matt called, gathering all the courage he could muster.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck my face." Embarrassment could no longer stop him from asking for what he wanted. Mason made him feel good. Really good.
"You sure?"
As a response, Matt opened his mouth as wide as he could and looked up defiantly. He wanted this. He wanted the Tennis player his boyfriend had been so jealous about for years to fuck his mouth like a fleshlight and use him to cum to his heart's content.
Mason chuckled and complied. His big hand rested on the back of the little guy's head and pulled him towards him and his eager cock. The twink took a hold of his own and stroked it with increasing enthusiasm while he supported himself on the other's thigh to gain stability.
It was rough and it lasted longer than Matt thought it would. The closer he got to his climate, the faster and rougher Mason became. Eventually, he was fucking Matt's face so hard that the twink had started spilling tears down his cheeks, but he was enjoying every second of it.
It was easy to tell Mason was about to finish, as he announced it with guttural grunts and the fact that his hung cock kept hitting the back of Matt's throat every time he rammed back in.
Jack's best friend pulled out of Matt's mouth at the last second, grabbing his fuck-stick and spilling his thick white cream all over the guy's pretty face. As soon as the first drop fell right under Matt's eye, he came too. The most intense orgasm he had felt since before meeting his boyfriend. Matt struggled to keep his mouth open, wanting to take some of Mason's taste in but losing the battle with his spasming muscles. Luckily, the jock knew exactly what to do; shoving his still throbbing meat back into Matt's mouth, he emptied the rest of his seed with a primal grunt straight into his new fuck-toy's throat.
9
Breathing heavily, Matt leaned back and basked his eyes in the sight of his boyfriend's sexy best friend standing naked and panting from a satisfying orgasm right in front of him. Mason's salty taste still lingered on his tongue, and he savored it with pleasure.
Focusing for a second, he looked into his mind for any unwanted feelings of regret, now that it was over, but nothing came up. Only desire still lingered in his lower stomach.
"Was that what you were hoping it would be?" Matt asked, looking at his cheating partner sitting naked on the floor right next to him.
"I told you I like your lips," Mason replied with a cheeky smile that made Matt turn into a crimson red color.
"I came on his shirt," He observed, attempting to switch the subject he himself had brought up.
The white shirt with Baby Yoda that he had offered Mason earlier and then cried on, lay crumpled up on the floor with white cum all over it.
"It's kind of messed up that you did that to poor Baby Yoda," Mason observed.
They both burst into laughter that lasted a minute or two. As it died down and quietness took over, they retreated into their own thoughts.
"I don't want this to be a one-time thing," Matt broke the silence first.
"Me neither, but we can't just fuck behind his back. What we did tonight was messed up," Mason explained what Matt already knew.
"What if I break up with him?"
"That would be a really stupid decision, Mattie."
"Why?"
"You're going to end eight years of relationship for a fuck?" Mason raised his eyebrows in incredulous disbelief.
"I don't... It's not that I would break it up for a fuck. More like I would break it up to fuck." Matt explained. "Jack doesn't want to open the relationship in any way. We've been exclusive for almost a decade! Hell, he's been insecure about you and me for almost a decade!"
"And for good reason, don't you think?"
"Why do you keep making good points when I'm trying to convince you to fuck me?" Matt retorted with playful annoyance.
Mason laughed in his bombastic way but didn't say anything back.
"I don't want to break up..."
"I figured."
"But..."
"But...?"
"...But I don't want to stop doing this. With you."
Mason didn't reply at first.
"Let's go shower," He finally said. "You have cum on your face."
10
They climbed into the shower together, looking at each other's bodies and thirsting for one another. Matt cleaned the other man's sculpted body with slow veneration, admiring every inch of it, absorbing it in his mind for the off-chance that he would never get to see it or touch it again.
Mason stood still while the twink gave him his full attention. Once he was completely clean, it was his turn. He stood behind Matt, breathing down his neck while he explored his secret lover's skinny body up and down, and then up again. Enough time had passed that Matt could feel the jock starting to get deliciously hard against his back.
When he turned around, there was no chance to say anything. They kissed deeply, passionately. If they could've spoken through their intertwined tongues, they would've told each other how much they wanted the other's body. To never have to stop. For this to be an endless night where their darker sides could hide their sinning natures forever; and a hundred other poetic things.
11
The steam from their shower lingered over the room. They were still soaking wet but had refused to stop touching the other's body, even for a moment.
Mason carried the smaller Matt in his arms, while Matt had locked his legs around Mason's waist. They walked like that until they hit the bed and plummeted into it. Several of Jack's shirts were sprawled all over the surface from the mess he had made in his hasty escape.
The scent of his boyfriend took Matt by surprise as he passionately made out with Jack's childhood friend while naked in his boyfriend's own bed. Mason's body felt heavy on top as their skin rubbed against each other. Matt's senses were overloading; he felt like he could cum any second.
"Mason... Mason..." He called.
The jock stopped and looked at Matt.
"Fuck me. Please. Fuck me now." Matt begged.
"Get the lube," Mason commanded and removed himself from the top. Just as Matt had suspected, he was rock hard. He looked surreal with his glistening golden skin and his hung dick resting against sculpted abs, just waiting for Matt to do as he was told so he could fuck the twink's brains out.
Matt obediently ran to the bathroom and retrieved the unopened bottle of lube he'd bought months ago.
Without saying anything, Mason simply took one of Matt's hands and dragged him towards himself and then down towards his beautiful cock. Matt got the message, climbing on top of the massive guy's body. The twink's legs spread open around Mason's shoulders, and he now had the eight-inch fuck-tool right in front of his face. A sixty-nine. Another first for Matt.
Mason got to work immediately, spreading Matt's ass wide open to expose his pink puckered hole, while Matt moaned in anticipation and got to work on his new favorite toy.
The beard around Mason's jaw felt strange against Matt's skin. The feeling made him delirious when paired with a thick tongue, warm to the touch, eagerly licking and pushing against his entrance.
Matt felt violated in the most mind-numbingly arousing way possible. That place that had been reserved exclusively for his boyfriend for almost a decade now belonged to another man. A manlier, more hung, more muscular, and more caring man. A better man.
Soon enough, he was swaying back and forth, practically drooling as he shoved as much of Mason's huge cock in his mouth as he could fit. It tasted so inexplicably good. The saltiness of his precum was like a drug he couldn't stop consuming, sucking eagerly for more and more.
The other man finished his care with his mouth and pulled back for a second, making Matt pout with disappointment. He didn't have to wait long, though, as he almost immediately felt Mason's lubed finger push inside into his entrance.
Loud moans erupted from Matt's mouth without his control. Every new inch the jock gained inside the twink was a step closer to absolute delirium. It wasn't even the fact that Mason had found his spot --although he very much feared that moment too--; it was the knowledge that another man was about to claim him; that he was about to betray and give away everything he had built in that same bed with someone else.
"Here," Mason tossed him the lube and started working on the second finger while Matt kept stuffing his face, trying to drown his own sounds.
He reached for the lube and carefully applied it to the massive piece of meat in his hands. At least with the care he could muster between moans and intense feelings in the pit of his stomach.
"Ready," Mason's voice intensely betrayed his excitement.
"Yes... please!" Matt replied enthusiastically.
A pair of arms as thick as Matt's own waist wrapped around him and handled him with extreme ease, like a toy, so that the twink was now astride his soon-to-be-mount.
Something burned behind Mason's brown eyes as they met Matt's. Something that Matt was feeling too. It was lust, an intense, fiery lust for each other.
"Are you sure you want to do this? Last chance," The cheating friend offered.
As a response, Matt reached back with his hand and grabbed the throbbing tool he had become so acquainted with already.
"Wait," Mason said.
Matt's heart sank for a moment. If the jock were to back out now, he would be heartbroken.
But instead, Mason looked around the bed with a mischievous air on his face until he found what he was looking for: one of Jack's shirts.
"I want you to wear it while you ride me," He confessed.
If even the tiniest of breezes would've blown in the room at that moment, Matt felt like he would've exploded into an endless orgasm.
"That is the hottest fucking thing you'll ever say in your life," The shirt was far too big, but it didn't matter. Only what it meant for him to be wearing it.
Once they had taken care of that, Matt reached back, taking Mason's fat cock again he guided it to his entrance while staring straight into the bigger guy's eyes the way they had done so many times that night already. They smiled at each other for as long as Matt could resist not opening his mouth in ecstasy.
It took a few minutes for the twink to sink back to about half its length, but in that time, he moaned and shouted with delicious pleasure. Rivers of adrenaline coursed through his veins. The ultimate taboo had been broken and there was no going back now.
Jack's essence was in the shirt he was wearing, almost as if he was hugging Matt at the same time that Mason's rough hands took a hold of his hips and his massive cock hit the perfect spot.
"Ja-" he gasped as he came hard. One big load after another spilled on Mason's chiseled abs.
Somewhere far away, Matt could hear a gruff voice asking something and big hands clasping tighter unto him, but he was beyond responding. The bed creaked as he swayed back and forth, trying desperately to fit more of his boyfriend's best friend inside of him. It had been creaking for years. It was even a running joke between Matt and Jack when they still made love before Jack decided to leave him.
Mason interpreted the twink's faster and more erratic movements as a sign to keep going. They understood each other so well.
The world span around. Matt lost his orientation for a second as the room tumbled, and he now lay on his soft bed while Mason's beautiful, sexy body was right on top of him. Matt's pale hands made for a funny contrast against his lover's golden chest. He couldn't appreciate it for long, though, as his wrists were quickly bunched together and his arms pinned on top of his head.
Matt locked his legs around Mason's narrow waist, allowing the hung player to sink even deeper with one animalistic grunt after another. Soon, the pale little bottom felt warm, loaded balls land against his ass. Before he knew it, they were lifting and slamming back down. Again and again. Explosions, white lights, black dots. Matt could see it all every time he felt that man hit his spot with uncanny precision while he was helpless to stop it.
For some reason, he couldn't hear his voice anymore. Perhaps he had run out of it.
The last time Mason slammed himself back down, Matt could feel something changing. His cock was throbbing inside Matt, pulsing and pushing against his prostate, taking the air right out of his lungs.
"Say his name while I cum in you," his new owner commanded and Matt couldn't do anything but agree.
"J-Jack!" He tried to yell, but his throat was beyond sore. Tears ran down his face as he felt his boyfriend's childhood friend empty his heavy balls inside of him. "Jack! J--"
He tried again but this time his mouth had been invaded by Mason's burning tongue. It twisted and writhed, claiming Matt's own in a deadly grasp the same way he had the rest of his body locked and claimed.
Matt returned the kiss to the best of his ability, but he was cumming all over again. A thick mess spread between their bodies, made even worse as Mason let his huge body flop on top of the smaller bottom.
Their kiss lasted long enough to ride down their intense orgasms. Mason pulled his tongue out but not his fuck-tool.
"You're mine now," He claimed, staring into Matt's eyes. "Make up with Jack. I want to breed you while he thinks you're his."
Matt agreed with a nod and a weak smile while his eyes started to close with bliss. A dream he didn't know he had was fulfilled that night, and now he would have to chance to keep it for as long as he wished.
They fell asleep in each other's arms in the position they had stopped in. Neither heard the car parking in the garage or the front door opening and shutting again.