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The New Normal

Page 8

by L. J. Hayward


  Alone in Carly’s spare bedroom, his thoughts immediately gravitated back to Andrew and their almost kiss. In the moment it had felt right. He’d really wanted to know what it was like. Wanted to know if it would be different to kissing anyone else, not just because it would be a man, but because it would be Andrew.

  As much as Brian wouldn’t have minded more sex, he accepted that he wasn’t cut out for casual. The most pleasurable sex he’d ever had had been with women he already knew. Simone, his first, he’d known almost as long as he knew Andrew, since she was his sister, and the sex had been addictive. Every chance they got and Brian had been thinking long term, until Andrew had admitted he was uncomfortable with it. Simone hadn’t wanted to piss off her brother, so they’d stopped. Brian had pined for a while, then he’d gotten to know Lena at uni. Naturally, she’d met the love of her life in third year and she and Hayley had been together since. After that, Brian had tried hook ups but they’d been lacklustre. He didn’t miss it enough to find the time to get to know someone, and he definitely needed to get to know the person first.

  Of everybody on the planet, he knew Andrew the most. The best. That could only mean sex with him would be good, right?

  His cock was apparently on board with the idea. It was warming up and his belly was getting shivery. Brian ran his hand down his body, shoving the sheet aside until he reached his groin. He teased the edge of his boxers, eyes closed and imagining . . . what? Andrew’s face? That it was his fingers skating across his skin?

  What was he doing? Andrew said he didn’t want to have sex with him, so why should Brian waste a wank on him?

  Okay, he was primed, or at least he had been until doubt had cooled things down a little. He dove under the waistband of his boxers and fondled his dick. Who to think about? Lena? No. It felt a bit off using her for this. She was very happy with her girlfriend. Simone? Oh fuck, that shrivelled his dick fast.

  Brian’s laugh was more like a strangled sob. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t like he needed someone specific to get him going, but holy crap, could he really get off thinking about Andrew? Nothing else to do but try, right?

  Andrew. Andrew. Andrew.

  He stroked his dick and remembered Andrew this afternoon, standing in the middle of the kitchen, absolutely clueless about how he looked. Work pants hanging low on his hips, heavy steel-capped boots still on, shirt gone and exposing his hard-won muscles. His torso was lightly tanned because they’d spent a couple of weekends in the yard, pretending they knew about lawn maintenance. They hadn’t got much done, but Brian had made Andrew laugh several times and that was worth a wonky hedge and some bare patches in the grass.

  Brian’s dick throbbed and thickened. Yeah. Andrew laughing. Smiling. Monday night at Tots, Andrew had given him those secret looks, just for him, no one else, and they’d buoyed Brian right up. Thinking of those slow looks and little lip quirks now had his hand squeezing his cock up and down the shaft. He needed some action on his balls as well, so he wriggled and squirmed out of his boxers and spread his legs. Other hand on his nuts, Brian sighed and relaxed into the mattress. This felt better than Carly’s scalp massage and that had been amazing.

  Dick fully hard, balls starting to ache, Brian slowed down and teased the head of his cock. Precum was leaking out and he smeared as much as he could down the shaft. Sliding his hand back up, he dragged his thumb over the very tip, hissing at how good it felt. He pressed down on his slit and his thighs jerked. Tugging on his balls to keep from tipping over too soon, Brian’s knuckles brushed against his arse.

  A tiny sizzle shot from his hole up his spine. Some of that electricity split off and rippled up his dick, as well. A moan escaped him.

  Lena had introduced him to arse play and Brian’s mind had been blown. Sticking his dick in a nice, tight hole was brilliant. Doing it while someone flicked his hole, or pressed on it, or played around the rim? Brian had walked around in a daze for a couple of days the first time Lena had pleaded with him to let her do it.

  Letting go of his balls, Brian collected more precum and, lifting his knees and spreading them even further apart, touched himself with his wet fingers. His whole body shuddered. It had been a while since he’d done this. A quick wank in the shower in the morning had been all he’d cared for lately. He’d forgotten how sensitive he was, how quickly his body reacted to just a couple of fingers running over his anus. A shockingly loud groan escaped him so he bit his lip and slowed his fingers. His other hand was motionless around his dick, barely needing it while he circled his rim lazily until he settled down.

  Did this mean he would like anal penetration? Lena had brought it up once and Brian had all but leapt out of the bed and run away naked. Not long after that, she’d told him about Hayley and they’d stopped seeing each other. Brian hadn’t really thought about it since, but now . . .

  Gently, slowly, he pressed into his hole. The tip of his finger, wet with precum, slid in easily enough. His balls hitched up closer to his shaft and his cock pulsed out an extra dose of wetness. Brian pumped his finger a bit and yes, yes, that was good. He started to pant and his legs shifted restlessly. A few more little thrusts and his dick jumped in his hand. Feeling bold, he pushed in further and his balls tightened so fast he couldn’t breathe.

  Then a thought popped into his head.

  What if it was Andrew’s hands on him? His finger inside him?

  Brian squeezed his cock and pulled his finger out, then thrust it back in.

  Lightning shot from his arse, into his balls and up his dick. The orgasm ripped through him, arching his back, curling his toes and pulling a low cry from his lungs. Warm come splattered his chest, shoulders and chin.

  Brian gasped for air and sank back into the mattress. Holy fuck. Shit. He hadn’t come like that in forever. His arse tingled and his cock felt mega sensitive even just lying there on his belly. And his finger was still rammed up himself. Slowly, he extracted it, hissing at how tender his rim felt. Not bad, just a bit . . . good in a new way.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw the cooling globs of semen on his chest and a few wet spatters on the sheets. Sheets that weren’t his own.

  “Oh god,” he whispered and listened really hard.

  There was silence. Had the movie finished? Had Troy gone home and was Carly in her room on the far side of the house, out of hearing distance? He fucking hoped—

  Laughter. Sudden, loud and hysterical.

  Nope. Brian’s luck was all gone.

  “I’ll show you how to use the washing machine tomorrow,” Carly called.

  Heat rushed up Brian’s neck and cheeks. He was never going to live this one down.

  “I’m going home now,” Troy hollered next, making loud, clumping footsteps towards the front door. “Sleep tight, mate!”

  Thankfully, he really did seem to leave, because what followed was Carly locking up for the night and heading toward her bedroom. The noises paused and she called, “Night, Bri Bri.”

  “Night.” His voice cracked in embarrassment.

  Her laugh was soft and disappeared quickly. Then silence again.

  Carly had an en suite on her room, so the main bathroom was pretty much Brian’s. It was next to his room, so he snuck in there to clean up. His arsehole felt a bit raw and sort of sparked when he tightened his sphincter, which in turn made his dick think it could happily go again.

  In the mirror, he didn’t look any different. Well, he looked rumpled and sated, if still a bit flushed from being caught, but it was still Brian Stagliano gazing back at him. The only difference was, this Brian thought he really wanted to fuck his best friend.

  The next couple of days were rather tedious for Andrew. Thursday they lost to heavy rain and were given the choice between an unpaid day off and working on another site in Brisbane. Andrew chose the day off, which he realised was the wrong decision when he still wasn’t dressed by lunch time and had watched the first two Iron Man movies without moving off the couch. Archy didn’t mind, setting up camp on his
thighs and snoring deeply. It was the contemplation of KFC for lunch that finally woke up him up.

  Inactivity or long periods alone weren’t usually problematic, but with Brian upset with him and Vaughn’s offer tickling the edges of his thoughts, they could be dangerous. Especially since Brian’s bitter words about his decision to give up architecture went around and around on an endless loop. Occasionally, the jab about deliberately wanting to make Brian miserable with his confession popped in for a replay.

  Andrew probably deserved the harsh words. He’d spent a lot of nights lying awake wondering if he’d made the right decision about his future. Worrying about if he’d even have a future, let alone a career, after they found the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes in the right side of his groin as well. It was all gone now, sure, but what if it came back? His chances of getting cancer again were now twice as likely and that statistic hung over him like a guillotine. His doctor had told him to be careful about getting stressed, and he was so scared of messing up and failing at his dream job, he’d decided to not go back to architecture. Can’t go down in fiery flames if you don’t fly.

  Brian had accepted that. He’d been supportive and encouraging when Andrew applied for the job with McGregor Construction. Guess Andrew knew his real thoughts about that now.

  He still wanted to give Elle a piece of his mind about her telling James Brian was gay. It was a shitty thing to do behind someone’s back, especially if she didn’t know for certain. Even more especially if Brian wasn’t certain. Andrew knew better than to assume, even for someone he knew as well as he did Brian. Hadn’t Andrew kept his own possible bisexuality to himself all this time?

  The cardiologist Elle worked for had rooms at the big three private hospitals on the coast and Thursday was when they were down at John Flynn Hospital. Without access to a car, Tugun was too far for Andrew to go to vent his frustrations with her. Sunday at H2GO would be soon enough.

  Friday was still rainy so rather than risk another day of self-pity that might turn into something worse, he took the option of working in Brisbane. Terri, who’d worked in Brisbane on Thursday, was taking the day off, so Andrew got a lift with Sam, who spent the drive bitching about having to make the drive without compensation. Thankfully, the new crew was good to work with and one of the young guys—Eliot—invited Andrew to go out with him and some of the others that night. Unsure, he messaged Brian and asked the likelihood of him being home. Ten minutes after the message was received, Brian replied saying he was going out to dinner with Carly and her teacher friends.

  “Yeah,” Andrew told Eliot. “Let’s do it.”

  Eliot grinned. “Awesome. We’re hitting the Valley.”

  Andrew told Sam he was staying the night and went back to Eliot’s place to change. He got some clothes off one of Eliot’s roommates, who was more his size, but even then the shirt was tight across his torso. Had to keep his work boots, however, since no one had shoes that fit him. They got dinner at a pub then headed into Fortitude Valley and met up with the other guys from the crew.

  It had been a long time since Andrew had been out to a club. Nothing much had changed. It was still loud, chaotic and stupid. Even without drinking, Andrew had fun. He just had to let go of all his worries, forget Brian and do what felt good. Which included dancing like an idiot with the guys, and less like an idiot with some ladies. They moved from one club to another after an hour or so and around midnight, they were walking past The Beat.

  “Is this where we lose you again, Eliot?” one of the others asked, nudging Eliot so he stumbled into Andrew.

  Eliot shrugged. “Dunno. Where you guys thinking of going now?”

  “Probably Birdees.”

  “Backpacker chicks!” a couple of the others chorused.

  “Yeah, nah.” Eliot inched towards the gay bar. “Think I’ll try my chances here.”

  “You do you, mate. Andrew, coming with us?”

  The fact he hesitated pretty much showed his hand, so he just moved with Eliot. No one laughed or teased, they just waved and carried on.

  Eliot winked at him, paid the cover charge for both of them and led him in. “Gay or bi?”

  “Bi. I think.”

  “This is a good place to test it.” He tapped his chest. “Homoflexible.”

  “Don’t think I’ve heard of that.”

  “I love the dudes but sometimes feel like getting frisky with a lady.”

  Again, the place hadn’t changed much since Andrew’s first visit, except that this time he didn’t need an alcohol buffer in order to appreciate it. His confession to Brian had let him accept this part of himself and that he could not only want to be here, but also enjoy it. Even while he was both pissed at and aching for Brian. And maybe this was what he needed to know for sure if things still worked properly down there, or if he could actually get physical with another man.

  They headed straight to the dance floor and were quickly surrounded, probably because Eliot was suddenly oozing twinkness in every hip thrust and wink. At work, Andrew had definitely noticed him, but now he really took stock and liked the broad shoulders, slim hips and long legs. Eliot was probably the same size as Brian, more toned thanks to his job, and Andrew couldn’t help but imagine Brian was the one dancing with him. He and Brian had danced together before, but not with each other. Not like Eliot was now, keeping close and coming back to face him with a smile when he spun. Other men crowded around but Eliot focused on Andrew and within a couple of songs Andrew’s arm was around the other man’s waist and they were rocking and swaying together.

  It was incredibly hypnotic. The motion, the noise, the flashing lights. Andrew felt a little dazed, like he wasn’t totally in control. His body was moving with Eliot’s without his direction, following him as if they were magnetised. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it was Brian his arm was around, and just couldn’t. Andrew knew it wasn’t him in every particle of his being and no amount of self-deception was going to help.

  “I’m really glad you came to work with us today,” Eliot yelled into Andrew’s ear over beat heavy music. His arms went around Andrew’s neck. “Really, really glad you came in here with me, too.”

  “Me too.” Because he was. This was fun. Eliot was fun. Being surrounded by a bunch of hot men, with another one slowly moving closer and closer, was a heady rush.

  Things were rushing in other parts of his anatomy as well. What had taken a lot of coaxing the other night was happening more rapidly now. Eliot closed the last space between them and rubbed against his dick blatantly. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped in a surprised, happy gasp. Spinning, Eliot pressed his arse to Andrew’s crotch. Andrew’s eyes rolled up into his head. Oh fuck, that felt good. Too good. Maybe if he’d come the other night he wouldn’t be now desperately thinking about finding a quiet, hidden spot to take care of things.

  “Hey!” Eliot was facing him again, lithe body moulded to his. “Should we go home?”

  Air seized in Andrew’s chest. This had been fun but did he want to do this? Did he really want to find out if he could be with a guy with someone other than Brian?

  One part of him said “yes.” Brian wasn’t communicating with him and even before Andrew had pissed him off, they hadn’t been able to talk. Which might be a good thing if it stopped Andrew from hearing what Brian really thought about his decision to give up architecture, or listening to Brian accuse him of wanting someone else to be as down and sad as he’d been. That “yes” part was, admittedly, mostly his dick, which was very happy with Eliot’s hard shaft rubbing all over it. Two layers of denim and underwear may as well have been gauze for all it stopped Andrew from feeling the shape of Eliot, he was that close.

  The “no” part was all Brian. The way his clear blue-green eyes had widened in shock when he’d said those hurtful words played on Andrew’s conscience. Brian hadn’t meant them, not really. It had been anger and confusion, that’s all. But Brian hadn’t confirmed that. Hadn’t said sorry, hadn’t spoken to him at all si
nce. The “no” part was tiny and shrinking further as Eliot’s lips finally landed on Andrew’s skin, just under the corner of his jaw, and kissed and nipped seductively.

  Andrew could do this. He wanted to do this. Needed to do this? Not just to cement his bi-ness in his own brain, but to prove his dick still actually worked the way it was meant to.

  His hand slid down Eliot’s back to cup one firm arse cheek and the other wrapped around the back of his neck, to hold him still while Andrew pulled back and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Eliot’s moan was lost in the loud music but Andrew felt it in his palm, against his chest, and in his cock. Then Eliot grabbed Andrew’s hand off his arse and dragged him from the dance floor and out of the club. They Ubered back to Eliot’s place in Gordon Hills, Eliot’s hand sneaking between Andrew’s thighs as they chatted with the driver about some of his customers that night. Back at Eliot’s flat, one of his roommates and a couple of new faces were in the living room, playing a game. None of them looked surprised when Eliot charged right past them with barely a “hello,” Andrew’s hand firmly in his.

  In his bedroom, door closed and locked behind them, Eliot wound himself around Andrew and went back to work on that patch of skin. It was still tingling from the club and Andrew groaned as the sucking sensation at his neck seemed to reach right down inside him and pull at his dick.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” Eliot mumbled as he moved down Andrew’s neck and across his throat. “I couldn’t believe it when you showed up today. Even if you weren’t bi and here like this, you would have played a part in me getting off tonight.”

  Andrew’s laugh was strangled, then choked off as Eliot pushed him back onto the bed and scrambled to straddle him. One arm around Andrew’s neck, he sent his other hand down between them and cupped him.

  “Jesus,” Eliot hissed and squirmed even more on his lap. “Please, tell me you do anal.” He rubbed the heel of his palm along Andrew’s straining length.

 

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