by Durango, M.
Apparently, Matt’s good Samaritan was back. “Are you okay to ride that thing?”
Christian looked up from struggling with his helmet straps and frowned. “Are you asking if I’m too drunk to ride my bike?”
“I’m offering to drive you home.” Matt tried to sound friendly, but he thought he might have sounded inexplicably annoyed.
“I’m fine.” Christian’s words were slightly slurred.
Matt knew Christian might think he was fine — might even be fine for the moment — but Matt didn’t think Christian could make it all the way back to his apartment. “Let me drive you home. You can’t ride your bike like this.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Christian shook his head and staggered slightly.
Matt placed a hand on the bike’s handlebars. “You can barely stand. Besides, it’s freezing and the ride will just make you colder.” Matt cut off Christian’s protest. “Come on. My truck’s warmer and safer. And I’m sober.”
Christian finally nodded his assent and Matt grabbed the bike by the bar, carrying it with one hand while keeping an eye on Christian. He was parked close and Christian tagged along silently. Matt loaded the bike easily before opening the passenger door.
Alison honked and waved as she drove past.
“Do you like her?” Christian asked suddenly, one foot on the running board and half in the passenger seat.
“What?”
“That woman. Alison. Do you like her?”
Matt frowned, confused. Christian must have known he and Alison were friends. “Sure. We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“No, I mean, do you like her, like her? Are you sleeping with her?”
Matt’s jaw clenched. “No. Not that it’s any of your business. Get in the truck, Christian.”
Christian looked at him for another minute before settling in the passenger seat and allowing Matt to close the door.
Christian was fumbling with the seatbelt when Matt got in but brushed off Matt’s attempt to help. “I can get it.”
Matt sighed, frustration leaking out as he grabbed the strap. “Just let me help.” When he looked up from clicking the belt in place, Christian’s face was inches from his. Caught for a second, Matt stayed where he was, returning Christian’s gaze.
“I like you,” Christian said suddenly, softly.
Matt blinked. “What?”
“I like you.” Christian repeated. Matt felt Christian’s hand on his thigh, fingers just barely touching him. “A lot.”
Matt was frozen, unable to pull back and unable to form the words to ask Christian what the hell he was doing.
Christian leaned forward, eyes still locked with Matt’s until he was a breath away from Matt’s lips. Matt saw Christian shut his eyes, watched him close the scant inch still between them, watched as Christian touched his surprisingly warm lips to Matt’s.
The shock holding Matt still wore off almost instantly and he jerked back, defenses kicking in. “What the fuck?”
Christian tried to follow Matt across the console but was caught by the seatbelt. “What’s wrong?” Christian looked genuinely confused and Matt realized he was probably too drunk to reason with.
“Just…” Matt was at a loss, more surprised than angry. He put a hand on Christian’s shoulder and pushed the other man firmly back into the passenger seat. “Look. I’m straight. You’re really drunk and you need to stop. I’m driving you home now.”
Christian was silent on the ride home, presumably either too drunk or too embarrassed to say anything. It was a marked contrast to Christian’s usual up-beat personality and Matt found himself missing the talkativeness.
Matt didn’t bother to look for a parking spot on the street, instead pulling into Christian’s parking lot. The shorter distance Christian had to walk, the better.
He shut the engine off and turned to see Christian fumbling with the seatbelt again. Matt rolled his eyes; at least getting it off should be easier than getting it on and he was glad he didn’t have to help again.
Matt got out and made sure he was there to help in case Christian fell out of the truck. The guy might be pissing him off, but he didn’t want to see Christian get hurt and he certainly didn’t want to have to deal with an emergency room visit with a drunk college student.
Christian jumped down and leaned against Matt. At first, Matt thought it was just for the support, but when Christian looked up at him, Matt knew Christian had other things in mind.
“Are you going to take me upstairs?” Matt had an idea that Christian was trying to sound seductive, but wasn’t sure it would have come across that way even to a receptive audience.
“I’ll walk you to your apartment.” He tried to sound firm, but his voice was suddenly husky. “I need to get your bike.”
Christian grinned at him and Matt moved quickly to get the bike out of the back, leaving Christian leaning against the side of the truck for support. Once he had the bike in hand, he motioned Christian toward the stairs. Christian pushed away from the truck with a bit too much force and stumbled against Matt. Matt’s bulk kept them upright; he swore under his breath as he grabbed Christian around the waist and tried to balance the bike at the same time.
“Ooh, I love when you talk dirty.”
Matt almost laughed, his earlier annoyance replaced by the absurdity of the situation. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you inside before you pass out and I have to carry you.”
“Carry me!” Christian tried to throw himself at Matt.
“God damn it, walk! I can’t carry you and the bike and I’m not making two trips.” Matt used the voice he used to motivate his team in the Army and found that it seemed to work almost as well on Christian as the younger man moved quickly up the stairs. Standing in front of Christian’s apartment door, Matt put the bike down and waited as Christian unlocked and opened the door with a dramatic flourish.
Christian crossed the living room and flopped down on the couch. “My hero.”
Matt sighed again, standing the bike out of the way. Christian could deal with it in the morning. “Are you going to be okay? You should drink some water before you pass out.”
“’M good. What ‘bout you?” Christian’s speech was becoming even more slurred.
“I’m fine. Unlike you, I can hold my alcohol. I’ll get you a glass of water.” Matt searched through the kitchen cabinets until he found a glass.
“I can hold my alcohol. Just didn’t want to.” Christian sounded petulant.
When Matt came back from the kitchen area, he found Christian actually pouting. “Drink this.” Matt held out the glass, but Christian didn’t move. “Christian. Drink the water so I can go home.”
Christian reached for the glass and started sipping, then suddenly downed the whole thing at once. “Um, good.” He wiped his chin. “Can I have some more?”
Matt took the glass and went back to the kitchen. “Jesus, are you always a high-maintenance drunk?”
“I’m not high maintenance!” Christian protested, taking the second glass of water out of Matt’s hand. “Just thirsty.”
Matt laughed. “Okay, fine. You’re not high maintenance. Look, are you going to be okay once I leave? Do you have roommates or anything?”
Christian looked confused and frowned. “Um. Yeah. He’s not around.”
“Will you be okay if I leave you alone? Christian?” Matt was failing at being patient, but he was pretty sure Christian didn’t notice.
“You could stay.” Christian looked up at him finally. “I’d like it if you stayed.”
Matt suddenly knew that Christian wasn’t talking about keeping vigil so that he didn’t hurt himself in his drunken state.
“I don’t think so. You’ll be fine. Go to sleep.” Matt kept his voice firm.
Matt stood there looking down at Christian, close enough that Christian reached out and put his hands on Matt’s thighs.
“Don’t go. You liked it when I kissed you.” Christian’s thumbs rubbed along the inner seam of Matt�
��s jeans, slowly moving higher.
“Christian, stop.” Matt’s voice sounded strained even to his own ears.
Christian’s hands slid higher as he leaned forward and ran his mouth over Matt’s crotch, the move incredibly erotic in spite of the circumstances.
Matt could feel the heat from Christian’s breath through the material of his jeans and boxers. He gasped when Christian mouthed the head of his cock, hands continuing to move over Matt’s hips and thighs.
Christian moaned softly and the sound made Matt even harder than the feel of Christian’s mouth.
“I don’t want to stop,” Christian muttered, continuing to nuzzle at Matt as he moved his hands around to Matt’s ass. “God, you’re so hot, Matt. Wanted to do this the first time you drove me home. Want to suck your cock.” Christian looked up at Matt, eyes hot, as Christian’s restless hands moved to the waistband of Matt’s jeans to tug the button open.
Matt stared down as if mesmerized. Never in his life had he imagined this, yet his balls were tight and his cock was hard, pressing against his zipper, throbbing in time with his pulse. Christian’s hands felt good, strong on his body. Matt felt lightheaded, dizzy. Christian looked wanton, lips slightly parted and so, so close to Matt’s dick. Matt groaned as the tip of Christian’s tongue peeked out, suddenly imagining what Christian’s mouth would feel like.
“Going to make you feel good, Matt.” Christian’s hand moved from Matt’s now-open button to his zipper, brushing against Matt’s length. Matt groaned again and thrust his hips involuntarily, pushing himself into Christian’s hand.
Christian grinned and pressed harder. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He rubbed his palm against Matt before moving back to the zipper.
A noise outside and the sound of a key in the lock brought Matt back to his senses. He jumped away from Christian and refastened his pants.
The door opened to admit a guy around Christian’s age who Matt assumed was the roommate.
“You’re home. I thought you were gone this weekend.” To Matt’s ears, Christian’s words sounded accusatory and he felt his palms start to sweat at the possibility that they’d been caught. The roommate didn’t even look at him, however.
“Nah, we decided to wait ‘til next weekend.” He tossed his keys on the counter and headed into one of the bedrooms without further comment.
Christian blinked up at Matt and started to say something.
“I’ve got to go.” Matt cut off whatever Christian was about to say. Ignoring the ache in his balls and cursing himself for thinking with his dick, he fled as fast as he could from the apartment and back to his truck.
Once home, Matt shed his clothes and crawled into bed, determined to forget about what had just happened. Almost happened, he reminded himself. Nothing had happened.
Sleep proved elusive. Matt was usually good at making his mind go completely blank, a trick that had come in handy during his Army years; it allowed him to focus and keep himself and his unit safe. There had been plenty of times when he’d had to push his own fear aside to make snap decisions without thinking about all the different “what-ifs.” He’d learned to quiet his thoughts and forget about his personal concerns.
It wasn’t working this time. As hard as he tried to clear his thoughts, they kept coming back to Christian and how far Matt would have let things go. He knew some guys experimented but still married women, but he didn’t know if that meant they really weren’t gay or if they were closeted, and fuck, Matt wasn’t going to spend the night thinking about what made people gay. He really didn’t give a shit. He was straight and not attracted to Christian.
Matt got up, grabbed a pair of sweats and headed to the fridge for a beer. If he couldn’t sleep, he could find a better way to waste time.
He flipped channels for a while, watched part of a show on the History Channel, which he changed as soon as the narrator started talking about the homosexuality of some random Roman emperor.
Which brought his mind back to the image of Christian opening his pants. He had finally managed to distract himself, and now he was thinking about it again, thinking about it enough that his cock was hard.
Matt ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Maybe if he jerked off, it would stop replaying in his head. He grabbed another beer and rifled through his porn stash for something to watch. Maybe Sam was right; maybe he needed to get laid.
***
Matt woke Wednesday morning in a cold sweat, heart pounding, breath coming in rough gasps. As usual, he didn’t remember much about the dream other than vague images, the sounds of gun fire, and the sense of being unable to move fast enough as sand pulled him down. He could hear people shouting, some screaming in pain, but he couldn’t get to them.
Matt’s stomach clenched at the combination of the dream paralysis and the clear-as-day memories. He knew if that had ever happened in real life, people might have died.
This was the third night in a row. The nightmares hadn’t come this frequently since Matt had first separated from the Army and was still learning to manage his stress and settle into a new routine.
He was exhausted. Sam came over to watch the game on Sunday and they had stayed up too late drinking. Matt’s dreams kept him from catching up on his sleep as it became obvious that trying to pass them off as a fluke wasn’t working. He was going to have to deal with them sooner rather than later.
It was late enough — early enough? — that the breakfast place would be open by the time Matt was showered and dressed. He would get something to eat and head into work early. He had enough to do between his current projects and new regulatory changes that it wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows.
***
Christian’s hand moved from the button on Matt’s jeans to the zipper, palm rubbing against the bulge and making Matt groan. “Going to make you feel good,” Christian said.
Christian looked up at Matt through heavy-lidded eyes, lips slightly parted. He lowered Matt’s zipper slowly, eyes dilating as Matt’s breath came faster.
Christian moved his other hand from Matt’s ass, lowering his eyes so that he could watch as he opened Matt’s jeans.
Matt’s cock was throbbing and he could see the damp spot forming on his boxers. Christian groaned and pushed Matt’s pants off his hips, mouth teasing Matt’s cock and hands running up and down Matt’s thighs.
Christian reached into the waistband of Matt’s boxers and slowly pulled them down, freeing Matt’s aching erection. The sound of his own breathing was loud in Matt’s ears, matched by Christian’s.
Matt moaned at the feel of Christian’s tongue licking a trail of wet heat up the length of Matt’s cock. Christian swirled his tongue over the head before slowly moving down.
Matt watched Christian’s lips stretch and cheeks hollow as Christian sucked. Christian’s hands moved randomly across Matt’s ass, hips, balls. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he had felt anything this good.
His breath was coming in a series of gasps and moans. He tangled his hands in Christian’s short hair, keeping Christian’s head in place as he started thrusting into Christian’s mouth.
Christian moaned and opened further, taking Matt in deep. Matt could feel the moan vibrate along his shaft and felt himself getting closer.
Christian held him by the hips now, guiding his movements. Christian swallowed and Matt felt his balls pull tight, felt his orgasm tear through him as he shot down Christian’s throat. Christian kept swallowing as Matt shouted.
Matt woke up thrusting against the sheets, cock still rock hard, the image of Christian’s mouth on him almost unbearable. He was so fucking close.
He reached down with one hand and grabbed his cock, squeezing hard and jerking, while cupping his balls with the other hand. The dream was fresh enough that he could feel Christian’s mouth, feel the sucking as he shot, come spilling across his hand.
Matt lay there panting, realizing that it had been ages since he’d come so fast or so hard. He thought about the dream
, feeling hot again.
Jesus, he needed to get laid.
***
Matt felt refreshed for the first time all week. As many wet dreams as he’d had in his life — and he’d had plenty — they had never been that detailed.
Or about another guy.
He couldn’t get the image of Christian sucking him off out of his head. Every time he thought about it, he felt a corresponding twitch in his cock. By the end of the day, he was starting to get sore and frustrated.
Walking by the coffee shop toward his truck, he caught a brief glimpse of Christian laughing with one of his coworkers. It was enough to make him hard, forcing him to hurry to the truck before he embarrassed himself.
Stop thinking about it. It’s just a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything. What was wrong with him that he was getting turned on by another guy? Matt forced the thoughts down, refusing to think about what it might mean for his sexuality and the image of himself he’d had for years.
Matt managed to ignore his cock until after dinner. Once his body realized there was nothing else to claim Matt’s attention, it started making demands, cock rising to tent the front of his pajama pants. He flipped channels for a bit, idly stroking himself before finding something more adult to watch. He hated the stereotypical image of the single guy sitting at home alone jerking off to porn, but he enjoyed it anyway. Porn may be fake, but it was better than picking up random women in bars.
He liked to watch from the beginning, letting the anticipation build. He was still hard and could feel the tightness in his balls as he rubbed the fabric of his flannel pants lightly across his inner thigh. When the actress took off her shirt, Matt moved his hand closer to his balls.
Matt found his gaze caught by the actor’s body. Matt slid his pants down and reached for the hand lotion stashed in the side table. He stroked himself slowly as he watched the actress’ hands slide over the man’s chest and shoulders, watched their tongues as they kissed.
He moved his free hand under his shirt and unconsciously mimicked the path that the actress’ hands were taking over pecs and nipples. Pinching his own nipple made him moan and slide farther down on the couch, legs spreading.
