More Than Gold

by Dorice Grey

  Getting even more frustrated because he didn’t actually trick me, I guiltily rearrange the stick from the message and go on the boat, muttering and swearing.

  I know he’s not the only one responsible for this mess and I know he’s right about people coming to look for me as soon as they realize I’ve gone missing, but I can’t help feeling what I feel. I can’t remember the last day I spent without talking to him. Sure, he lives in our house, but even before that we talked every day. I briefly wonder when Simon gets the time for his... gay escapades, because we usually go hunting for girls together. Still, I don’t know what he’s doing every moment of every day.

  Since we have no fuel, the boiler only works on its battery. We switched it off to conserve it, but right now I really need a hot shower. It won’t wash Simon away, though. I don’t mean the kiss. I barely remember that. I mean the betrayal or the canyon his secret opened up between us. Sounds dramatic, I know, but that’s how it feels.

  Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe it was a joke, although he’s not big on jokes.

  Well, fuck! What man, in his right state of mind, wouldn’t react to a kiss from another man?

  I scrub at my skin thoroughly, using a lot of soap and a scratchy loofah. Unfortunately, when I come out of the bathroom, I still feel like crap. A nice smelling pile of crap, but whatever.

  While I dry my hair with a towel, I hear Simon climbing down the stairs. Usually we keep the doors to our bedrooms open when we’re on the boat. I’ve locked mine now, clearly letting him know I don’t wanna see him. Simon knocks anyway.

  “Brian? C’mon, man, open up.”

  “Fuck off, Simon!” I sigh, sitting on my bed.

  My heart clenches at the sound of his defeated voice. We rarely fought over the years. That’s why this feels so weird. I don’t know how to be upset with him. I don’t know how to not talk to him, because even when we did have a fight we yelled at each other until we solved the problem. Not now. I can’t do it right now.

  “Okay,” he says after a long pause. “I just want you to know I found a small stream a little up from where you left.”

  “Good for you.” The mutter is so low I don’t think he heard it.

  “Oh, and I’ve lit the torches.”

  I don’t reply to that and he waits a minute or two while I look at the door and almost distinguish his form through the wood—his head hung, his shoulders slumped. There’s tension in the air. It’s like we’re two cats ready to fight.

  After a while he sighs and leaves. The silence hangs heavy over me, presses me into the bed. Slowly I let myself fall back on the mattress and stare at the ceiling, waiting. Waiting for this helplessness to go away. Waiting for sleep to take me so I won’t think about him anymore, because I’m afraid my thoughts will soon start to take the wrong direction.

  Underneath all the anger and frustration and betrayal, I feel guilty too. I don’t really understand why. Is it because I reacted so badly? Or because he cut that part of his life off from me for a reason?

  Finally, after hours of staring, I fall asleep. I don’t rest, though. Dreams of the boat and rainforests and Simon hunt me.

  Simon Page. My friend who I wonder if I really know. You see, he’s a handsome fucker. Sky blue eyes, dirty blond hair always artfully mussed, straight nose. He’s twenty-eight, so his skin is flawless and his body lean and fit. It’s very strange that I see all this so clearly in a dream. I guess I’ve never looked at him in this light before, like a man checking out a woman.

  The kiss repeats itself over and over in the dream, and I participate every damn time, though my mind keeps re-staging it because there’s still a small part of me that wants to fight it. After a while, even that part gives up and finally Simon pulls away from me and gives me a seductive smile. The one he uses on girls. Well, maybe on boys too. Then he starts undressing right in front of me. I swallow, watching, hard and horny like a fucking rabbit. The fact that I get hard looking at a man is not really new to me. I’ve never thought too much of it over the years. Boys and young men like me get hard-ons at the strangest times.

  My breathing starts getting a little heavier while I watch him unbuttoning his shirt. His long fingers move with ease, sure of themselves and what they’re doing. As soon as his torso is completely naked I dare to blink. What is it with this sudden fascination? I wanna touch his chest. It’s creamy white, hairless and just perfectly worked out at the gym. Am I going crazy?

  When Simon notices my struck state he flashes a small shy smile. Jesus! I had no idea he can smile like that.

  Suddenly we’re no longer in the forest. We’re in a bed, though not on the boat. I’m naked and he’s touching me and my hands touch him back, caressing his naked bicep. Though I can see my fingers moving up and down his skin, it’s like they’re moving on their own. I must be out of my mind or something, but I love the way he looks at me, all gooey eyes and sexy smile.

  I never thought I’d be using the words sexy and Simon in the same sentence. Maybe if I refer to some other Simon that’s not my best friend.

  I wake up with a start, sweat covering my forehead and temples. I’ve slept unmoved and naked. My heart is pounding so fast that it feels like it wants to tear my chest open and run for the hills, making it hard for me to breathe.

  There’s something else throbbing down between my legs. And it’s kinda painful.

  I get up on the edge of the bed and wait for my body to come down from this weird state. It’s like I’ve had a nightmare, not an erotic dream.

  Jesus! I’ve had an erotic dream about Simon.

  Palming my face, I wonder about the war inside me. A part of me wants to forget it, another wants to cling to all the details. And through all of this my hard cock pulses and throbs like a motherfucker.

  This is crazy!

  I get up and start pacing around the room, running my fingers through my hair. What the fuck? I’m more panicked about this thing with Simon than I am about being stranded here with no fuel for the boat. My head is a fucking mess!

  That’s it! I have to talk to him, no matter how awkward it’s gonna be.

  Before walking out the door though, I have to do something about my crazy cock.

  Chapter Three

  The smell that greets me when I climb up to the kitchen area is better than I expect for Simon’s cooking. It stops me dead in my tracks.

  “Good morning.” he cheerfully says, using a spatula to move the omelet from the pan on a plate.

  I watch him for a moment or two, despite my rumbling stomach and the awesome smell.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Famished,” I reply realizing I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch.

  “Good. Sit.” He points the barstools next to the counter.

  Though I’m still pissed at him, I comply. I need to sort this whole thing out, otherwise I’m gonna go nuts!

  Simon prepares another plate for him, a huge bowl of salad and some bread and puts them on the counter between us. I’ve seen him in my kitchen at home, but I’ve never seen him look so domestic. Then again, it’s not like I admire him every day. The fucker! The details from my dream come rushing back. It’s a good thing he’s wearing a T-shirt today, though I can’t stop myself from sliding my gaze up and down his body, lingering a little on his crotch. His cock didn’t show last night. Maybe because I haven’t seen him hard in a long, long time.

  “Is this... thing edible?” I ask, poking the omelet.

  “I sure hope so.”

  “You trying to buy me with food?”

  I keep a straight face, aiming for irritated. It’s hard, because stupid me is actually impressed by this breakfast thing he put up. Still trying, I stab the food and shove a good piece of it in my mouth. Chew a little. It’s good, but I could do it better and I’m not saying that just to brag. My parents are always gone, and though we have servants in our house, I prefer cooking my own food. I’ve learned a lot like that.<
br />
  We eat in silence for a while. Unfortunately, I can’t delay this forever.

  “So the strangest thing happened to me this morning.” I say around a mouthful, watching my plate.

  “Oh?”

  Weird answer. Does he sound gayish? Damn! Everything’s amiss today! Probably because I look at him differently. I shouldn’t. He’s still Simon.

  “Yeah. I woke up with a hard-on from hell!”

  Simon stops eating and looks up at me. “Do I really need to hear this?”

  “Oh, yes. It was fucking painful, and it was your damn fault!”

  “My fault?” He stares, but underneath the hard face there’s a smile that’s fighting to come out. His lips are twitching. It kinda irritates me.

  “I had a very hot dream about you.”

  “About me?” This time he does smile, the asshole!

  “Yeah, you! We were naked in a bed and you were touching me and kissing me and shit.”

  Simon chuckles, putting his fork down to give me his full attention. I stop eating too and cross my arms, really pissed off!

  “Care to tell me what the fuck you did to my head?”

  Leaning back against his chair, he mimics my position. “Huh. And to think I wanted to apologize. I didn’t do anything to your head, you idiot! You couldn’t have had that dream if the thought wasn’t already there.”

  “Fuck... .” I stop right before adding the you. Look where it got me the last time I said it. “I’m not gay! I’ve... You know I’ve been with tons of girls!”

  Simon shakes his head. “Wanting a man doesn’t make you gay. I’m not gay, and I fuck men all the time. I’m just open-minded.”

  I purse my lips and grit my teeth. “Open-minded, huh?” I slowly say, my focus still on the omelet.

  Amazingly, a sudden jealousy sets over me, but I ignore it.

  “Yeah. You should try it. You’d be surprised what you can learn.”

  “Oh, I already am surprised.” I make a frustrated sound and slide my hands over my face, hoping it will help get rid of some of the tension. “Look. I’m not judging you, man. But why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Hmm... Let’s see...” he pretends to think about it. “Remember your reaction from yesterday? Yeah, that’s why!”

  “You fucker! You could have just told me, not kiss the breath out of me and mess with my head!” I explode, throwing my hands up.

  “I haven’t messed with your head!” Simon yells back. “Brian, do you think I’m blind? Do you really think I haven’t notice the way you check out my ass when you think I’m not looking? You gonna accuse me of putting that in your head, too?”

  Choked with so many feelings I can’t even count, I push the plate away and sigh. “I have no idea what’s wrong with me right now.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. I think your mind is unconsciously exploring the options after you finally let them in.” He motions to his temple.

  Options. Huh. Unfortunately, he’s right. About the open-minded shit, about me secretly checking him out, though never, ever, other men. And that’s because I’ve only been myself, the real me, around him, so the open-minded thing only worked with him.

  The sexual curiosity of this whole situation is more powerful than I thought. The jealousy keeps growing inside me while in my mind various scenarios of my best friend fucking men unfold. I close my eyes, try to erase them, but I can’t. It’s like they’re etched into my retinas or something. They make my skin crawl with rage.

  As I mule over this, Simon is mercifully silent, watching me. Weird vibes come from him and I have no idea how to read them. I’ve never been too good at it.

  “So... I guess you... you wanna fuck me?” I finally look up.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you since we were fourteen, man.” Simon grins. “I never thought we’d be having this conversation. Not in a million years.” He shakes his head.

  “Fourteen? Jesus Christ, that’s half of your life, man!”

  Biting the inside of his cheek, Simon lowers his eyes and clears his throat. “Yeah. I know.”

  Damn! I feel even guiltier now. My friend has been lusting after me for years and I had no fucking clue. But then again he never dropped any hints the way girls do. If he were a girl I would have fucked him six ways to Sunday by now. How am I supposed to act around Simon after this? And what about that weird dream and the huge hard-on? Does it mean I want him, too? Do these things happen overnight? I know I drool over a girl I’ve just met, but I’ve known Simon for years. Can my perception of him change so fast only from a kiss and a hot dream?

  “I know what you’re thinking, Brian. But nothing has to change. I mean...”

  I space out, missing the rest of his words.

  Nothing has to change? Everything’s gonna change, whether we want it or not. It has to. I’m not gonna be able to live with it, now that I know. He’s seen me flirting with all those girls... it must have been horrible.

  And I can’t deal with the idea of him with other guys! This jealousy, this... this... possessiveness that suddenly came over me! Tons of girls have been through his bed and I didn’t give a shit about them. But other men? It’s so fucking weird.

  Maybe I just have to get him out of my system. Does that thing even work?

  “Brian?”

  Simon waves a hand in front of my eyes and I blink, refocusing on him.

  “Did you hear a word of what I’ve said?”

  “Not really.”

  He frowns. “What were you thinking?”

  It’s now or never. I’m curious and I get hard thinking about it... This feels weirdly right, and I usually go with my gut.

  “I was thinking that...” God, this is way harder than with a girl. I draw in a deep breath. “... that maybe you should kiss me again.” And I lock my gaze with his.

  The shock on his face would have been funny if I wasn’t so damn serious. Heart-way-up-in-my-throat serious! I try to swallow and push it back, biting my lip.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  I wring my hands together behind my back, fearing Simon’s gonna see them tremble. Apparently, doing this with girls all the time hasn’t prepared me for doing it with a man. Or maybe if it was any other guy and not my best friend... No. I wouldn’t have considered all of this with just anyone. Sounds stupid, since I’m not so picky when it comes to girls.

  But then Simon’s eyes turn to ice. “I don’t want a pity fuck.”

  “A pity fuck?” I ask offended. “Do you know me as the type of guy that does the pity fuck thing?”

  Some of the ice melts, but Simon is not convinced yet. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, sounding disappointed. Like he’s afraid to believe I might consider it.

  “You’re wrong.” The chair scratches the wooden floor when I get up, making a deafening noise in the silence that has settled over the kitchenette. “You started this.” I point between us. “I’m asking you to finish it.”

  Simon licks his lips drawing my attention to them. “What if...”

  “No ifs, no buts!”

  He swallows, looks at me for a long time, his eyes flashing all kinds of emotions that I can’t discern.

  Chapter Four

  All of a sudden, his demeanor changes and he flashes that shy smile. It makes my inside flutter. I’m being reckless about this, but I’m excited, too.

  Simon gets off his chair and starts walking toward me, still smiling. Warm hands pull me close, chest to chest, cock to cock, eyes to eyes. He’s an inch taller than me, but it’s barely noticeable.

  “You sure?”

  I nod once. “Yes.” No hesitation. It’s too late for that now. I made up my mind, I go with the flow. However, I’m not made of stone.

  “Good.”

  His hands don’t shake like mine do when he grabs them and slowly puts them around his waist.

  “Relax,” he whispers as he ben
ds his head. His face under my chin, he kisses my neck.

  I fist his T-shirt at his sides, breathing in but forgetting to breathe out too, because his mouth feels awesome on my skin. It moves up to my ear, leaving a hot trail of small kisses like tiny wet stamps. Then his tongue plays a little with my ear lobe and a soft squeal escapes me.

  Simon chuckles, enjoying my reaction. “So how do you wanna do this?” he asks. His warm breath tickles my ear and makes me shudder.

  My lips are dry. I lick them and clear my throat. “You tell me. You’re the expert.”

  “Oh, I’m no expert.” His actions belie his words, his hands sliding under my T-shirt and knowing exactly where and how to touch to feel nice.

  “You’ve been with other men.” I frown, moving my head so that we’re face to face again.

  “Yeah, but not with you.”

  Then I feel it. His heart pounding against my chest as fast as mine.

  “What makes me so special?” I ask on a small laugh.

  “Do you have to ask?” He pulls out one of his hands and cups my cheek, giving me a small peck. “You’re handsome.” Another peck. “And sexy.” Two more pecks. “And you’re my best friend. I have to make this right, otherwise I’m gonna lose you.”

  When did this turn so serious? “You’re not gonna lose me,” I say, wrapping my arms around him, hugging him. Instinctively, I rub our hard-ons together, generating a growl from him.

  “Promise me!” Simon demands in a desperate voice. “Promise me I won’t lose you, if we do this!”

  “You have my word. Best friends forever. Now kiss me, dammit!”

  He doesn’t wait another heartbeat before shoving his hand in my hair at the back of my head. I’m ready for him this time. I open my mouth and let him in, absorbing his full force. I’m accustomed to be the one leading with girls, so it takes me a few moments to adjust to him leading. But I quickly learn to surrender my control to Simon, accepting his tongue and not fighting it. His lips are the softest I’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing, his mouth the hottest and so delicious it makes my head spin. A mix of omelet and mint and Simon! Just perfect!