by Z. B Heller
“Fuck!” I screamed into the air. I had to get ready to meet Ryan at his place. I’m sure he would inundate me with questions about last night and Nicole. I’d have to do what I’d been doing for as long as I’d known Ryan—lie.
Forty-five minutes later, I showed up at Ryan’s apartment and rang the buzzer.
“Sugar, spice, and all things nice. If you have a shlong, you belong. If you have a cooch, you can scoot along.”
“Hey, Sam, it’s Brandon.” Sam was Ryan’s roommate. He, or she, was a barista during the day and a drag queen at night. Ryan and I met Sam when we used to go to the local coffee shop to study. They had chatted as Ryan waited for his non-skim mocha latte and found they both needed a roommate.
“Brandon, love, I’ll buzz you in. Ryan said to meet him in the gym—lower level and you’ll see it on your left.
I followed Sam’s instructions to the gym and saw Ryan through the glass doors. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he smiled his brilliant white smile. My throat tightened as I imagined that was a look he only reserved for only me. I knew full well Ryan was a flirt with everyone—men and women. He waved me in, and I had to take a brief moment to collect my thoughts. The gym had typical equipment that one would use. It was a moderate space with two treadmills, an elliptical machine, recumbent bike, and some weights with a bench press. Mirrors lined an entire wall, and I caught our reflections in it as I walked in.
“Hey, man.” Ryan gave me a bear hug so tight it was like he hadn’t seen me the night before.
I studied his reflection in the mirror behind him. There were only small differences between Ryan and me. The sleeveless workout tank he wore left nothing to the imagination. His biceps were more pronounced than mine and bulged in all the right places. It was obvious he took care of his body. I couldn’t imagine why more guys didn’t kill to be with him. A sudden flash of jealously struck like a bolt of lightning. I wanted to be the only guy who caught his attention, but I couldn’t be. I didn’t want to risk the same pain that my father inflicted on me on others. Ryan was lucky he had the support since moving to a bigger city. It made me realize there was support for people coming out. But I was too afraid, and there was no guarantee I would even get an ounce of that in my life.
“Hey, thanks for the invite,” I said.
Ryan released me from the hug, but his smile slid from his face and his shoulders sagged as he started at his shoes.
“So,” he said. “Did you take one for the team last night?” He slugged my arm like we were two football buddies who talked about nothing except T and A.
“Umm, no, I didn’t,” I answered softly. I ran my hand up and down my neck, hoping I would be able to stop blushing.
Ryan lit up with surprise and… relief?
I was quick to reply. “But we have a date, this Saturday.”
“Oh.” He averted his eyes. “That’s nice.” He turned and walked toward the mats in the corner of the room. I frowned and shook my head. He was the one who’d pushed me to talk to Nicole last night, and he acted disappointed I was going out with her. Ryan was sending out some pretty serious mixed signals. Did he or did he not want me to go out with Nicole?
We were the only two people in the gym since it was pretty late in the evening. My hands trembled, and I started to chew on my bottom lip. I didn’t have anyone else to deflect my thoughts from parading around in my head. Ryan’s friendship had become such an important part of my life, and I didn’t want to mess with that and bring him into all of my emotional shit of struggling with my sexuality. My attraction to Ryan sat front and center as it always had. Every time Ryan showed me his crooked smile, or the whiffs of his shower soap I would get when he passed by me distracted me. Things like the way he put his hand in my hair and rustled it up when I needed a haircut. All of those tiny moments made it nearly impossible to do anything without my feelings getting in the way.
“We should stretch before we start,” Ryan said, as he grabbed one of the floor mats. He sat down and smacked the spot next to him with his hand, signaling me to sit next to him. Taking off the baseball cap he wore, he turned it around so the bill faced the back. He swiped his bottom lip with his tongue to wet the dryness away, and then arched an eyebrow at me because I was stuck in the spot I was standing. All I hoped for at that point was that my dick stayed down long enough for me to get through this workout. Finally, like a man training his dog, I followed his command and sat down.
We sat with our legs out in front of us, and I bent forward, stretching to touch my toes. I glanced at Ryan and found him stretching with his head down, bent over his knees. I took the opportunity to study his arms, the muscles flexing while he reached for his feet. A few freckles sprinkled over the skin of his shoulders, and his biceps were built from working with the weights. Perhaps keeping a person tucked in those arms. Maybe even holding me.
Damn it.
“Were do you want to start?”
“What?” I blinked a few times, clearing my head of the image of his arms wrapped around my body. “Oh, God, sorry. I was thinking about something for school. Finals and all that.”
He raised one eyebrow and smirked.
“What?”
“Why don’t I believe you?” He narrowed his eyes at me but still held his sly smile.
“Umm, I don’t know. How about we start with a warm-up jog?” I nodded toward the treadmills, hoping it would divert his curiosity from my psyche.
“Sounds good.” He stood up and extended his hand, offering me help up from the floor. I took his hand, loving the feeling of it encased in my own, roaming over my skin, and touching me in places reserved for the most intimate of interactions. Heat spread through my body, and I felt a telltale blush warm my cheeks. I wiped at my forehead, and Ryan noticed.
“We haven’t even started working out yet, and you’re already turning red and sweating! I didn’t realize that stretching took so much exertion.” Ryan chuckled, stepping onto one of the treadmills.
“School has me busy. Not all of us can be slackers like you and live at the gym,” I said as I pulled at my shirt collar and attempted to fan myself.
I got on the other treadmill and looked down at the panel to pick a speed that would push my endurance. Something had to take my mind off the ache I was feeling in my gut, or I would explode from Ryan sensory overload. So I ran, and ran, and ran, hoping my head would clear. After forty minutes, I felt exactly the same as I did before I started, only more exhausted and even hornier.
I pushed the stop button on the machine, and Ryan followed suit. I walked over to get a small towel from the stack in the corner of the room to wipe the sweat away from my face. Before I could move, Ryan was at my back, pressing against me and reaching his arm out to grab a towel as well. My body went stiff as I felt his warm breath on my sweaty neck.
“Should we do some weights? I can spot you on the bench if you want.”
I turned in place, bringing the towel up to my chin and mouth, covering half my face. “Umm, sure. That sounds like a plan,” I mumbled, my words muffled behind the terry cloth towel.
Ryan took my hand away from my face. The second he touched me, I felt a shock of lust spiral through my veins.
“What was that you were trying to say?” His hazel eyes moved down to my lips and he stepped closer. The heat of his body radiated off him in waves. He smelled masculine, like sandalwood soap and eroticism, and he knew it. The glint in his eyes told me as much.
I swallowed and looked at his lips, not at all caring because I was too tired to fight the pull he had over me. His body beckoned me, and I swayed forward before I could stop myself. “I said that would work for me.”
“Good.” Ryan bit his bottom lip and inhaled slow and deep. I thought for sure he would do something… anything. The anticipation was so overwhelming; my heart beat out of control. Ryan smiled like he held the best secret and moved away sharply, leaving me reeling from the trance he put me under. “Why don’t you lie on the bench, and I’ll put some wei
ghts on the bar.”
He acted as though nothing just happened as he moved around the room, using those sexy-ass biceps to load the bar with weights. He finished setting up the weights and looked up, mischief lighting his face. I pretended to wipe away the sweat from my neck and act as though he didn’t affect me in the slightest.
“Ready.” He put both hands on the bar.
“Yeah,” I answered, hating the way my voice cracked. I cleared my throat, walked over, and dropped my towel next to the bench.
I lay down and got into position. An upside down Ryan looked back down at me and grinned. The nylon fabric of his workout shorts brushed my hair, and I realized how close my head was to his crotch. I grasped onto the silver bar, adjusting my grip on the metal. My arms shook as I squeezed the bar in my hands. Determination, and possibly insanity, must have crossed over my face.
Ryan put his hands on top of mine, the electricity igniting in my veins all over again. “Relax, Brandon. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He squeezed my hands before letting go. “When you’re ready, you can lift. I didn’t know how much weight you could take, so I started off easy. If you can take this much, I will push you harder.”
“Got it.” I pushed upward on the bar, held it in the arm before bringing it down to my chest and then back up again. After fifteen reps, I felt the burn overtake my muscles and welcomed the pain.
“Put more weight on,” I huffed as I set the bar back up to rest.
“Are you sure? It looked like you were struggling a bit.”
“Just put it on,” I snapped.
“Okay. But I’m just going to put on a little.”
Ryan walked back over to where the weights were, and I used that time to take a few deep breaths to calm myself while he restacked the bar.
“I’m right at your back when you’re ready.”
Those words didn’t help. I pulled the bar up again, lifting it from the hold position, and brought it to my chest. As soon as I went to raise it, a sharp pain tore down my right arm.
“Ryan, my arm! Take it!” I screamed as my arms shook from fatigue.
Ryan reacted quickly and took the bar from my hands. I sat up on the bench, nearly hitting my head on the bar. Slumping forward, I massaged my biceps where the muscle spasm continued. Ryan raced to my side and sat on the bench in between my legs.
“I told you that you were pushing it too far. What’s going on in that head of yours?” He tapped on my temple with his finger.
I wanted to scream that he was in my head and I couldn’t get him out! I couldn’t stop thinking of his lips, his arms, his smile… everything.
“I’m just distracted. I have a massive exam and the instructor has a hard ass.”
“Excuse me?” Ryan chuckled.
“I meant he is a hard ass! Gets on everyone’s case if you don’t do the work.”
I might as well have found a shovel and dug myself a hole.
“Here, let me have it. I’ll see if I can knead the spasm out.” He took my arm in his large hands and slowly rubbed my aching muscles. I flinched with the pain. When the soreness ebbed, I lifted my eyes from his tactile hands. He was so close his intoxicating scent threatened to override my senses. A second later he looked up from my arm, meeting my gaze, but he didn’t stop rubbing my muscles. He was stoic, silent, but his eyes spoke a thousand words.
“Does it feel better?”
“No,” I replied. I wasn’t talking about my arm but the feeling I had brewing deep down in the pit of my stomach. At that moment, my resolve broke. I couldn’t stand another second without getting another taste of Ryan’s lips. That feeling had haunted me since the night of graduation. I used my free hand to cup his stubbled cheek. Concentrating on the feeling of his skin under mine, I brought his chin up and studied his face.
Ryan’s eyes opened wide, the hazel in his irises disappearing as his pupils darkened under weight of my stare. His lips parted and he seemed to chew on his words before he said, “What are you doing?”
“I… umm, sorry.” The minimal amount of confidence I thought I had vanished, and I dropped my hand and pulled out of his grasp. Looking away, I said, “I thought you had something on your cheek; I wanted to wipe it away.”
Nice excuse. Real nice.
“Brandon, it’s just that…” When I looked back, I was met with confusion and a grimace. My chest started to rip in two. “I think we need to talk—”
“I’m looking forward to my date on Saturday,” I blurted out like an idiot. “Can’t wait to get some of that pussy.”
Oh my God.
Ryan let out a long, low sigh as soon as those words came out of my mouth, and I cringed myself.
“Brandon, look at me,” Ryan said.
I took a deep breath and finally looked at my best friend. There were so many questions lying in his eyes I knew he wanted answered. Only I wasn’t willing to tell him the truth—not yet or maybe not ever. Ryan lifted his hand and placed it on my cheek just like I’d done to him. It certainly wasn’t an action to wipe something off my face. It was soothing, loving, and warm. He inched closer to me, his pink lips begging to be kissed. We were still both straddling the bench and I could feel Ryan press up against me.
Shit, shit, shit.
Through my haze of lust, I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. At the glass doors of the gym, a woman in workout garb pulled on the handle. I broke our connection and pushed him in the chest, sending him to the floor. I jumped to my feet and made quick time grabbing my towel off the floor and wiping away the phantom kiss we almost shared. Without looking back at Ryan, I darted out the door, almost knocking over the woman in the process. I did the only thing I knew how to do: I ran away and pretended it never happened.
The rest of the week crawled by without any word from Ryan. There was so much guilt and shame resting on my chest that I couldn’t bring myself to call or text him. Playing nonchalant was an option, but I imagined he would have seen straight past that.
Date night with Nicole rolled around quickly since the last time I saw Ryan. I was too occupied thinking of him to even consider this date. Spending time with Nicole was the last thing that I wanted to do, but it had to be done. I had never been with a woman. Hell, I’ve never been on a date. There was no other way to prove to myself that I was gay or straight unless I slept with Nicole.
My closet wasn’t lending any favorable clothing options for the night. It was times like this I would have asked Ryan for his fashion advice. He was always much more into style than me. He was the one who picked out my attire before big class presentations. I told him my focus was on school, not fashion. He responded that one day, I was going to have to go to class naked because he was going to burn all my clothes.
A light green, long-sleeved, button-down shirt and khaki slacks would have to do. It seemed casual with a slight upgrade from jeans. I threw the clothes on the bed and went to the bathroom turn on the shower. My phone vibrated on the dresser when I passed, indicating that I had received a text. It was Ryan.
Have fun on your date. Don’t forget to bring condoms. Text me in the morning.
I reread the text multiple times. That was all he had to say after not speaking to me for a few days? And he assumed I would be having sex with Nicole. Why wouldn’t he? I just as well proclaimed to the whole world I couldn’t wait to get some pussy.
Thanks, will do. I typed and groaned. Slamming my phone down on the dresser, I trudged in the bathroom and stepped into the shower.
The warm water slid down my hair and over my skin in rivulets. Steam rose in the air, making the whole bathroom warm and damp. I took the bar of soap and lathered the suds over my tense muscles. Closing my eyes, I let the sweet smell of the soap invade my senses and the warm water drain my anxieties away.
I thought back to my time in the gym with Ryan and watching his corded muscles contract as he lifted the weights onto the bar. My mind swiftly concentrated on the way his ass looked in his workout shorts and the erection te
nted in front of him when we sat close together. I felt blood rush into my groin and fill my cock until I had my own erection jutting out in front of me. I moved my soapy hand down my chest and through the dark curled hairs that led straight to my rock-hard length.
I lightly squeezed the flesh and shut my eyes tight. Slowly, I moved my hand up and down my shaft, allowing myself to fantasize of images I’d tried so hard to deny: Ryan’s mouth on mine, biting, sucking, and trying to steal my breath to make it his own. His mouth moving down my body and stopping to take tiny bites of my harden nipples.
I stroked my erection faster and cupped my balls with my other hand, pulling and squeezing them to enhance my pleasure.
I imagined Ryan was with me in the shower, gloriously naked with streams of water running down his body. He would sink to his knees, kissing the inside of my thighs while grabbing each round globe of my ass. Engulfing my cock, catching me off guard, he would suck on my length as if it were his last dying wish. I pumped my hand in the same rhythm I imagined Ryan’s head bobbing up and down on me. My balls drew up tight to my groin, and a pull from my lower spine told me I was close. I thought about Ryan looking up at me, coaxing me wordlessly to release into his mouth. I felt my stomach clench and my toes curl as I pulled one last time and white ribbons of come fell onto the shower floor.
My orgasm was so strong that my vision blurred when I opened my eyes, and I had to brace my hand on the shower wall to prevent me from falling to my knees. I gasped for air and tried to regulate my racing heart. Immediately fear, guilt, and shame consumed me. It certainly wasn’t the first time I jerked off, but it was the first time I let myself fantasize about Ryan. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, which only amplified my guilt. Maybe this was it; this was what I needed to get past the insane notion that I wanted my best friend sexually. Maybe I’d created this larger-than-life issue in my mind, but that was where it was supposed to stay.
After convincing myself that was the case, I finished my shower and got out to prepare for my date with Nicole. I put on the clothes I’d picked out, sprayed on cologne, fixed my hair, and bushed my teeth. The thought of kissing her made me slightly queasy. Grabbing my car keys, I walked out the door and convinced myself this was the way it had to be. A man and a woman going on a date and possibly having sex; the queasy feeling turned into full-fledged panic.
