Curious

by Seth King

  But this is…different, already. His mouth is wet and eager and he knows just what to do. And it’s so…ticklish. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

  “Nope, but I watch a lot of porn,” he giggles.

  I push myself further up the edge of the hot tub. Thank God I trimmed my hair the other night before I got dumped…

  His eyes like two coals, he looks up at me. “I guess you’ve got a nice one,” he says. “Can’t lie.”

  I don’t know what to say. A guy is sucking my dick. Not just any guy – Nathan.

  “Get ready,” he says, smiling up at me, and for the first time I notice how truly attractive he is – strong jaw, straight nose, tanned and plump skin, thick eyebrows. I know it sounds weird for me to be calling a guy attractive in the first place, since I’m straight – but still, he’s a looker. It’s almost like the possibility of our hookup is already activating something in me that I didn’t know existed…

  He leans forward again, but this time he doesn’t stop. He twirls his tongue around and around and around, and his stubble against my tip is a new and fascinating feeling. The combination of scratchy/soft is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I kinda love it, to be honest. Then he uses his hand, too, pumping me while his tongue gets to know my dick. Maybe it doesn’t matter whose mouth is on me – just that a mouth is on me at all. Lord knows I’ve had trouble getting regular hookups, with all this girl drama in my life…

  “Fuck yeah, dude,” I breathe as I reach down and grab his hair, really letting myself get into it. A mouth is a mouth, right? “Just like that…”

  He speeds up, and soon I can’t push back at all anymore – I am transported by his tongue. Then I forget who is doing this to me at all – all I know is that I want it to continue. I was always very vocal with girls, so that’s what happens here, too. “Fuck. Mhmm, suck that dick. Show me what you can do, Nate.”

  I push his head down a little, and he gags on me.

  “Hey,” he says, and he looks up at me with my cock in his mouth. “Don’t make me choke on the cock before I even know how to suck it,” he mumbles.

  “Sorry,” I say. “And it can’t be that hard. Just suck until you taste salty stuff.”

  “Shut up. Also…”

  “What?”

  He leans back. “The door into here is glass. What if someone comes in, or walks up and sees?”

  “Then I guess they’ll have a show to watch,” I murmur. “Now get back to work.”

  “Fine...”

  Ever-so-lightly he kisses his way down my shaft, coming to a stop at my balls.

  “Fuck,” I say with my eyes closed. “That was good. Remember that movement, we might need it later this week.”

  “So I’m good?”

  “Suspiciously good.”

  “Maybe the thing about girls,” he says soon, “is that they don’t know the spots. They don’t know how good it feels to do…this.”

  He takes a deep breath and then takes me all the way to the root. I gasp and rock my hips forward. He makes a choking sound and backs up a few inches. “Whoa. You’re huge. That barely fits inside my throat.”

  “And you’re just realizing this?”

  “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

  He licks for a few more moments, just sort of feeling his way around, and I am in heaven. Soon I find myself wondering why we never did this before…

  “Hey,” I say after a minute. “How does it feel, anyway?” I ask as I take my cock and hold it against his face. The awkwardness is fading, and now I’m starting to feel like I’m just hanging with Nate again. I slap it against his cheek for a minute, just to tease him. The look on his face tells me he likes it, though. “To suck a guy, I mean.”

  “It’s…not bad. I could get used to it. How’s it for you?” he asks with a flick of his tongue against my shaft.

  “Fuck,” I say. “It feels good. You’re even better than Gracie.”

  “Gracie?”

  “My ex from a few months ago, remember?”

  “No, there are too many for me to track.”

  “Oh, well, she was actually a kinky little freak. Now keep on sucking before I beat your ass,” I smile at him as I lean back again.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He takes me back in there, rolling the tip of my dick around his mouth as he stares up at me, somewhere between expectantly and nervously. Shit, I still can’t get used to this. The way his stubble feels against my skin, the way I can see his hard dick hanging beyond and below his face as he sucks, bobbing at the surface of the water…

  Shit. I could get into this. I could really, really get into this…

  “Suck my balls,” I say, caught by something strange and foreign, and he pauses and looks up at me. That’s when it strikes me again – holy shit, my best friend’s face is between my legs, and he has my pre-cum on his lips!

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Fine, I’ll guide your face.”

  I wrap my hands around his head and gently push him down a little, and his tongue makes contact with my balls. Ahhhhh, so nice. Yes, I always did like ball stuff more than dick stuff…

  “Fuck, dude,” I say. “Yeah, suck on them. Explore around there a little.”

  In a long, slow motion, he licks me from the base of my balls up almost to my shaft. I lean back, stiffen, and let out a moan.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Nothing, I’m just trying not to come.”

  “Already? Damn, should I stop?”

  “No. Keep going. I’ll take care of you in the morning, if you want.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I mean, why not? You were right – there are no girls here with us yet. But whatever – right now, focus on me. You’re supposed to be my bitch, right?” I laugh. “Keep licking.”

  He returns to the area between my legs and starts licking my fat balls in slow circles. My body goes even stiffer and begins trembling. He even reaches down and starts caressing his own cock, too, making my eyes bulge out of my head. I can’t believe that this kid, this guy I spent years playing football with and wrestling in the school’s side yard, is now moaning and shaking under me. How do I really feel about it?

  I bite my lip and decide I don’t really feel anything – just aroused.

  My body starts to feel all light and airy, and I know I’m about to come.

  “Grip my dick,” I tell him.

  “What?”

  “I do it when I’m jacking off. Grip the tip of it when I come. It’ll trap the semen for a few seconds and elongate the orgasm.”

  “Um…”

  “Just do it!”

  “Fine. Gotcha.”

  I start to twitch and tremble, and he wraps his hands around the head of my cock, sending me over the edge. I come, but it’s the longest orgasm of my life – the bubbly, effervescent reaction that flows through my body lasts five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds. Fuck, this is hot.

  When I finally look down, his hands are covered in my semen, and his eyes are large and confused.

  “What?” I ask as I scoot back. “You’ve never been covered in come before?”

  “No, I’m just…really turned on, and I don’t know what that means.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it’s part of our deal, right?” he asks.

  “What deal?”

  “Let’s just keep doing this, all week,” he says. “Exploring. Testing – and tasting – things. We will basically exist to please each other, and we won’t even focus on girls. For this week, at least.”

  “We’ll talk about it,” I say uneasily.

  “Well why wouldn’t we? Did it turn you on?”

  I look away. “Honestly, yes.”

  “What does that mean?”

  For a long moment I just watch the water as it boils and bubbles, staring into it as if searching for meaning in a crystal ball. Then I smile and look down at my best friend again. “I don’t really care. All I know for sure is that
we’re about to have a really interesting vacation.”

  ~

  Twenty minutes later we’re settling into our beds in our shared hotel room. (Who else do you think I’d share with?) Strangely, it doesn’t feel awkward at all, really – but then I remember that I’m drunk, thanks to Nate. Of course I don’t feel awkward. I guess we’ll see what happens in the morning when the dust settles and sobriety returns…

  As I lay there, he sits up. “Okay. We know a few things now, after that.”

  “What things?” I ask.

  “Well, we know that we like each other’s dicks, first of all.”

  “Ha. I mean…can’t deny that.” I take a breath and then keep going, pushed on by the vodka. “I liked seeing yours. Don’t forget asses, too. The way yours looked when you stepped out of the water was…wow.”

  “Yeah. We also know we’ve never done this before.”

  “With each other, at least.”

  “Yep. And what I know for sure is that…I liked it, and I want it again,” he says.

  “Same. But…”

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “The biggest thing I know is that…well, I’ve known you since we were watching cartoons together, and I have no idea what I’ll do if this fucks everything up.”

  “Good point.” He pauses. “Are you afraid more than you’re horny, though?”

  I wait for fear or shame to come. Nothing does. “Honestly…no. And you?”

  “Nope!”

  Nate smiles and gets out his notebook, which he writes in every single night before bed. It’s like his nightcap – it’s the only thing that calms his brain enough to make sleep a possibility. Otherwise he’ll toss and turn until dawn. Trust me, after years and years of sleepovers with him, I would know.

  “Great,” he smiles. “See you in the morning, then. Let’s rock this shit.”

  curious

  from the diary of Nathan Sykes

  in the silence of the night

  I must admit that I

  touch myself

  and think of you

  and now,

  I wonder:

  what does it mean

  that something long and firm

  hangs

  where before

  I only knew gentle folds?

  and what does it mean

  that you are strong and hard and solid

  where before

  I only knew gentle rolls of flesh?

  does none of that matter

  or does all of it matter?

  is everything false

  or is nothing true?

  all I know is that

  right now I am

  curious

  so, so curious

  about you

  and about what it would mean

  if you started to mean more to me

  than you do right now

  and more importantly…

  if you already did mean “more”

  all along…

  Nathan Sykes

  A wave brings me into the light. Then another, the initial thump giving way to the general sound of the surging froth. Then a seagull squawks, but it’s not a pretty, cinematic caw like in the movies – it’s more of a blurt, a scream. That finally makes me smile and wake up, and I open my eyes and look over at Beau.

  First I remember just a glimpse of a memory, something soft and feathery and wet – fuck. His dick. I’m remembering his dick. My best friend’s dick. That I sucked.

  I wait for the shame to wash over me. Fuck, last night was…weird. And hot. And weird. To suck my best friend, the person who knows me better than anyone in the world…

  But shame doesn’t come. Not at all. Instead I just feel…well, kind of horny, actually. Again. It was one of the sexiest things of my life, to be honest. I can’t deny that. But does he remember? How wasted was he? He could’ve been drunk when he came in there, and my vodka sent him into blackout mode. Or he could remember every detail and simply not give a shit. Which is it?

  Also, I have to remember that this isn’t just a random person. This is Beau. Sex complicates things, and to hook up with your best friend is a whole new level of weird. If things get awkward, if they sink too deep or get too serious…I could lose him. I could really lose him.

  Still, last night was fascinating. Because I can close my eyes at any time and picture everything I know about Beau Lindemann, which is…well, everything. I know what the inside of his apartment looks like, I know how he smells, I know that weird thing he does when he eats where he mixes all his side dishes together. Mashed potatoes and corn? Doesn’t matter, they’re going into the same corner of his plate. But last night was like opening up a new window and seeing into new compartments of his soul. I never knew he’d been thinking of these things, feeling these things…but then again, did I know? It wasn’t all that surprising. Is something deeper going on here?

  Since I have some time to kill – he was always a late sleeper, unlike me – I take out my phone and Google some keywords. Before the day starts I want to research situations like this, read some stories of people who may have found themselves in messes like this one…

  I fell in love with my best friend – and he’s a guy, one article says in The New Gay Times. I scan the story and then realize…oh, great! They stopped speaking after their hookup, and then it got awkward, and they were never able to really hangout again. How encouraging!

  But soon I find a story about two roommates who started fooling around, and in this case, it eventually led to full-on marriage. These stories seem to confirm what I thought all along – we’re now balancing on a tightrope above a volcano, and our two possibilities are probably either death or heaven. Which one will we reach this week?

  As Beau starts to stir, I fully wimp out and leave the room. I rush into the shower to avoid him, where I soak for probably half an hour. This morning we’re heading straight into a “bonding” golf session on the resort’s course with the other men in the wedding, so there won’t be too much time for awkwardness, thankfully. But we do brush shoulders when I’m on the way out of the bathroom.

  “Oh, hey,” he says groggily. He’s already in a towel, too, and I can’t deny that my eyes track down to the large, gently curving bulge hanging down his leg. Damn…

  How is he after last night? Does he remember? Is it going to be weird now? I mean, last night his come was all over me…

  “What’s up?”

  Finally he smiles. “Nothing. Want some coffee? I left all the stuff out. There isn’t any creamer in sight, which shouldn’t be a problem at all for you, though.”

  I smile back. Of course he would know that I like my coffee jet-black, and sweeter than a sugarcane field, too. In fact, I don’t think there’s anything about me he doesn’t already know…

  Well, aside from what he learned last night, I guess.

  I make some coffee as he showers. Then I collapse down onto his bed, sitting next to him as he gets dressed. We’ve done this a million times, we just kept our underwear on. No towels. But after a second he sits straight up.

  “Hey. You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I was thinking – it was nice to wake up in the same room as you this morning.”

  My vision blurs a little. “Oh. It was?”

  “Yeah. None of my girls would ever sleep over after hookups – they would always say they didn’t want to wake up looking ugly, but I think they really just didn’t want to be seen doing a walk of shame. But anyway…waking up with you, in this way, was kinda…nice.”

  I just stare at him. “Um…oh?”

  He does this awkward thing with his big arms and turns away, and that’s when I notice it – he’s hard. And he wants me to notice. He’s so hard, actually, his tip is above his towel – and it makes my whole body lurch as I remember how good, how salty, how sexual his come tasted when I got a little in my mouth last night.

  But at the same time – am I really getting hit on by my best friend?! Is this
really happening?

  “Oh,” I say as I look away from his large, thick dick. “Oh. Um, I’m guessing you liked last night, too, then?”

  “What wasn’t to like?” he asks as he stands. He drops his towel to the floor as he heads into the bathroom again, and looks back just to make sure I’m watching, too.

  And just for the record, I am.

  ~

  The rest of the day is the weirdest cat-and-mouse game I have ever played. Or are we even playing anything at all? It seems like he’s committed himself to the idea, but not really. This weird sexual energy dances between us, and I don’t think either of us know what do to about it. He doesn’t even mention it again, though.

  Today is our first official day of wedding activities – the bride is the biggest Type A personality in the world, and she wants us all to become close before the ceremony. I suffer through a game of croquet and a photo session overlooking the pool before I can even get close to Beau again. But at least one thing is clear: with all this new energy between us, I think it’s safe to say neither of us gives a shit about our breakups anymore. I know I don’t, at least.

  The photo session comes and goes. When we walk through the lobby on the way to a waiting van, I notice how every single head turns at the sight of Beau, and for some reason it makes me somewhat annoyed. He just can’t be this hot, this charismatic, this…magical, and then turn away from me again, withhold himself in this way. It’s not fair. He was always just…cool like that. In every way. I’ve always battled a constant sense of low-grade anxiety, but Beau was always the down to my up. Just being around him was like being drenched in cool water, actually. He just had that effect.

  After a “bonding” trip to a local beach with the other members of the wedding party, we finally head back to the hotel for some food. On any other day this would be my paradise – the cerulean water stretches to the horizon, the palms sway with suntan-lotion-scented breeze, the air is warm and lethargic. But all I can think about is our little…situation. When we’re back in the room at last, he catches me looking at him in a mirror.