by Mason Lee
“Hey, Brent. This is Liam,” Riley said. He was making introductions and when Brent reached out to shake the dark-haired man's hand, Riley gushed. “Oh my God. I didn't realize until just now how much the two of you look alike. Wow!”
It was true. Brent felt his face flush as he looked in Liam's blue eyes. The boyfriend was a younger version of him and Riley continued as the two sized the other up. “See, Brent, this is why I thought you were Irish. Doesn't he look Irish?”
The brogue was the worst part of listening to his boss. Brent had heard that voice in the dark, in whispers, as he imagined Riley fondling him in places that needed him more and more.
“Yeah, most definitely,” Liam cocked his head and smiled, “so now I know what I'll look like in the future.” Liam had the same accent and Brent was sure that the women in the office would be doubly disappointed to know that there were two handsome men that cared nothing about them.
“You headed out?” Riley almost never spoke to Brent without having a hand on him and today was no exception. His boss touched his shoulder and it was one of the reasons that Brent had been trying to avoid him. Every time the man touched him, it seemed that his body clamored for more and it was becoming almost too much to bear.
Brent stepped back. It wouldn't be good if Liam watched as Brent basked in Riley's grasp.
“Yeah, time to go home and do the Dad thing,” he said. He was married with children - he just kept reminding himself, it was his mantra.
It was just wishful thinking, Brent thought, that every time Riley looked at him, it seemed as if his green eyes were peeling back his clothes. There it was, that look again, right before he left.
“Well, have a good night,” his boss waved at him as he turned to go.
Liam added, “Nice meeting you,” but when Brent nodded at the man, he decided that it hadn't actually been nice for either of them. Now he had the picture of the boyfriend's face in his mind, something that he knew that he'd remember in moments when he was masturbating. The reminder that they looked alike was not going to erase that.
Friday went by quickly, thankfully. Riley was in meetings all day and although Brent continued to look for him, it was better this way. Out of sight, out of mind. Wasn't that better than mooning over him? He needed the weekend and time with Suzanne and to be immersed in the hum drum of his family life to remember that this was over for him long ago.
It was working, at least that was what Brent told himself and by Saturday afternoon, he was much more content. He'd worked out, run errands, cleaned the yard and taken the kids to a birthday party. Suzanne handed him a beer and kissed him on the cheek, saying, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” She brushed his black hair from his forehead.
“No, and I think you should,” he said, taking a long swig of cold beer and stretching his back, “what else do you need me to do?”
She was beginning to cook dinner. Suzanne had steak in one hand and chicken in the other, and said, “Nothing, honey. You've had a long week and you've been working around here all day.” Going the extra mile around the house did seem to soothe his guilt though and that wasn't something he could confess to her. “After the week you've had, having to look at this guy who took your promotion every day…” it was uncanny that she would have an inkling about how Brent spent his day, “you deserve some time to yourself.”
It was the last thing he needed. Brent needed to get lost in the mundane. His brain didn't need any room to slip back into the fantasy world that was growing there.
“Well, as long as you don't want my help,” he hugged her from behind, “maybe I'll go check email.” In the past, he'd spent much more time working on weekends but now that he’d been passed over for the promotion, it all seemed to be a waste of time.
“Okay, honey, I'll call you when dinner is ready,” she said, dismissing him from any more work. The kids were busy, so was Suzanne. If he wasn't so uptight about it, Brent could run down to the den and take care of himself in another way. He hated to rush it though; it was hardly worth the effort or the guilt if it was over in a minute or two.
Brent checked his messages and then went to his Facebook page. He wasn't a fan of social media but he occasionally checked up on the few friends that he had online. A few months ago, in a moment of weakness, he had sent Doug a friend request. So far, there had been no reply and he wondered if Doug had just forgotten or if he found it embarrassing. Today, surprisingly, there was a new message though. Not only had Doug accepted his request, but he had replied to the message.
“Hey, how are you? Long time, bud. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Things have been crazy around here. I'm finally getting married. I heard a long time ago that you and that girl that you introduced me to did get married - are you still together? I miss you, man. I hope that you're doing well.”
Brent couldn't picture him without the images beginning to roll through his mind. One by one, the snapshots of Doug started. The first time that he had seen Doug step out of the shower, the water running in rivulets down his lean frame, his eyes had traveled from his shoulders to his carved abs, down to his hips and it had confirmed the fact that Brent had fought for so long. He was attracted to men. He had felt the spasm of need deep inside and forced himself to look away.
Now, after all of this time, Doug was finally getting married. It had taken him a while to settle down. He'd always had his pick of the girls who were eager to go out with him. Brent wondered what the lucky lady had done to get him to commit.
It was just an email to an old friend, Brent told himself, nothing to feel guilty about. He wasn't hiding anything. His fingers were nervous and his stomach had butterflies and it didn't matter what he said to himself, it seemed like cheating. “I am doing well, thanks. Yup, still married to Suzanne, two kids, live in the suburbs, all of that boring, responsible stuff that we said that we'd never do back in the day. I miss you too, I'm glad that you're doing good. So what is your future wife's name?” He hit send and tried desperately to push the dirty images out of his mind.
During dinner, Brent struggled to focus on his family. His son and daughter were poking and picking on each other and Suzanne's patience was wearing thin.
“Hey, guys, stop it. Just eat and we'll watch a movie, okay?” Anything to keep it from escalating. Brent could just ignore them but his wife took everything personally.
Later on, Brent sat on the couch, behind the kids, who were on their bellies on the floor, completely engrossed in the cartoon and Brent couldn't resist. He checked the Facebook messages and was more pleased than he would care to admit to see that Doug had already responded.
“That's cool, Brent. I'm happy for you. It's weird, you're the last person in the world that doesn't know my status and I guess you really should have been one of the first. I'm marrying my boyfriend, Zach. We've been dating on and off for about three years but the last year we finally settled down. I wasn't out of the closet until five years ago. I really struggled with that, like I guess you have. It's strange to talk to you about it when I was so in denial when you and I knew each other. I guess you were really straight after all? Love you, man.”
He couldn't even hear the movie. His pulse was throbbing in his throat and it seemed all Brent could do was feel the rush of his blood course through him and the heat that had moved to his groin. Doug was gay. After all of that time that he and Brent had touched and played and caressed and still pretended that it meant nothing. Brent's eyes were on the television and all he could see was that first night replaying once more.
Doug had an erection when he walked out of the bathroom, naked as he often was and had walked right past Brent as if it were nothing. Doug's cock was smaller than his own, just a little, but his head was thick and juicy and when Brent noticed that a drop of his liquid shimmered there, he blushed when he noticed that his own cock stiffened at the sight. Doug caught him staring and it was too late for Brent to brush it off as he had before.
“You enjoying yourself, man
?” Doug asked, turning to give him the full frontal view and Brent tried to laugh but it sounded like he was choking.
“Why don't you put some clothes on, dude?” he rolled his eyes, like it meant nothing and that he wasn't aching to touch his roommate’s body.
Doug didn't put any clothes on. Instead he walked closer to the bed, his cock bouncing with every step, and said, “What's the big fucking deal if I'm naked, Brent? Is it because it turns you on?”
“Get out of here,” Brent said and looked away. His face was hot now and he needed an excuse to leave, any excuse before he did something that he knew that he'd regret.
“No, wait, I want to know,” Doug said and took another step closer. And then another and he was less than a foot away when he stopped and murmured, “You've been checking me out every chance you get all month.”
Brent had assumed that it had gone unnoticed, like all the other times, ever since he could remember, when he had found himself staring.
“I want to know,” Doug said and reached out and, before Brent could roll over or scoot back, Doug touched the front of his basketball shorts and stroked his cock from root to tip. “Yeah, I thought so. You do get turned on looking at me, don't you, Brent?” Brent couldn't answer; he was frozen, watching Doug's hand explore him.
He had to stop it, he had moaned. “Don't, please. I don't know what you're doing…” Brent had never known why he said to stop when that was the furthest thing from what he really wanted.
Doug had smiled and said, “You know what I'm doing, Brent.” He continued to stroke Brent up and down through the fabric, and said, “and you like it, I can tell.”
Brent wanted to push the shorts down, more than anything in the world. He wanted to rip off the last of his clothes and finally succumb to the wet dream fantasies that he had been having since he could remember.
“You're not small, are you?” Doug's cock quivered when he said that and Brent couldn't stop the noise of want that came from him then. “Show it to me,” Doug whispered and it was a turning point. Brent could have said no, he could have stopped it then. He knew that if he would have turned Doug down, nothing would have ever happened.
Instead, he pushed the gym shorts down and his underwear too, quickly removing them as well as his t-shirt. For reasons that he didn't fully understand, it seemed that the only way to proceed was to be completely naked with Doug. Those were all of the memories that washed over him as he read Doug's message for the twentieth time that night. Whatever it was, he had tried to let it go but it all came back very quickly. He had suspected for the last fifteen years that deep down - he had been in love with Doug and he wasn't sure that he was over him yet.
Chapter 5
Monday morning came far too quickly and between the new fantasies that he'd been having about his boss and the old fantasies about Doug suddenly taking on a whole new twist, Brent was a nervous wreck. At five am, he was seriously considering calling in sick and staying under the covers all day but being at home wasn't going to help either.
He needed some relief, something mindless and just for him. When he slipped on the running suit and his shoes, Suzanne reached out for him and felt the empty spot in the bed.
“Are you going to run?” she asked, still mostly asleep.
“I'll be back,” he whispered in her ear after kissing her forehead softly. Suzanne meant well but right now, she couldn't help him either and that was entirely his own fault.
He was on auto-pilot and when his car parked in the parking lot at the health club, he was almost surprised, as if his hands had just taken over. Brent had avoided it. He had tried to ignore it. He'd done his best but the need inside of him was swelling and surging and he hadn't been able to soothe it by himself lately.
Brent got on the treadmill and cranked it up immediately. Sometimes he got lost when he ran and just the sound of his feet in the rhythm, pounding in time, hearing his arms move with every step, his breath pumping through him, sometimes it helped. This morning, Doug's last message was the only thing he could think of and running at top speed only seemed to be hammering it in. Nothing was helping.
After replying to Doug and telling him that he wasn't gay, he tried to pretend that whatever they had been was something that he had forgotten long ago. Brent chalked it all up as “occasional fun for stress-relief”, which was almost word for word what Doug had told him it was back in college.
Doug had written back and the man he was talking to now seemed much warmer, more tender-hearted and gentle than the man he had known fifteen years ago. Where had he been when Brent was floundering with his feelings after having just orgasmed once more as he said Doug's name? It was for the best - Brent had tried to be cold. It had been stupid, just a slip really. He didn’t believe it himself.
He couldn't convince himself when he read the words in Doug’s reply. “Brent, you know I was thinking that I shouldn't even bring it up because it got so weird between us. I was such a douche to you and I blamed it on being so uncomfortable with my feelings but I was still an ass. I had done the stress-relief with other guys in the past and I really thought that having a guy jack me off was just anonymous, easy fun. It wasn't until I was with you that I had feelings about it. You were so perfect and I was so attracted to you. You were gorgeous and I loved your body, not just your dick, all of your body. After you moved out, it took me a while to stop being mad at you and then I realized how stupid that was and I was just mad at myself. It was my fault. I tried to pretend it was just about sex and if you knew all the dirty thoughts I had about you, you would think that's what it was. Ha, some things never change, right? Knowing that I wanted you for a lover after you were already gone made me realize that I was gay. I looked you up back then. I had this crazy idea that if we reconnected that maybe it wasn't too late. But you were still married and it was not meant to be. If I had talked to you back then though, I wouldn't have met Zach and he's a wonderful man. I'm really lucky. I have to tell you though that there has been a lot of regret on my end about what could have been between us. I'm sorry that you don't feel the same but it's probably better this way.”
Brent had it memorized. In fact he could repeat it back to himself and had begun doing it again as he ran, the sweat trickling down his forehead, running off the tip of his nose, wetting the treadmill. He'd be a wreck when the run was over but anything was better than obsessing about Doug.
He hadn't answered. What was he going to say? That he had the same dirty thoughts all this time? That he liked to watch gay porn where the men kissed because he'd always longed for it to be something more than just a hand for Doug? That he was afraid that he was starting to feel something similar to the old crush for a new man? A new man who was off limits, Brent reminded himself, which made it even worse.
He moved to the weight room. Running was even taking the edge off now and after moving through a quick, hard routine that left him shaking, Brent returned to the changing room and stripped down. He was so wet. There was a puddle in his underwear and the sweat covered him. He'd have to take a shower before he left; there was really no choice. If he was showering, there was no reason not to go to the sauna first. He shrugged, as if he was debating it - at least he wouldn't have stiff muscles.
When he walked in, there was only one man in the sauna and he took a seat on the opposite end of the humid room, the steam rolling up between them. Brent realized that the other man had removed his towel and he was face to face with his nakedness. This is exactly what he had needed and although he didn't have the guts to sit down next to him and ask for it, Brent untucked his towel and spread his legs. His erection was full and thudded on his pelvis. It waved and seemed to be screaming at the man for attention. Normally, he'd be mortified but at this moment, but now it seemed that there was no point in denying himself.
The man noticed and nodded right away. He got up and walked over, crossing the room, his own dick returning the gesture and when he was a foot away, Brent saw that his cock was thick and juicy, not long, b
ut beefy and almost the same size and girth as the dildo that he used when he had imagined Riley plucking his anal cherry.
“Hey, can't help but notice that,” the man's said. His face was wet and Brent wondered what he would taste like if they kissed. “Would you like a little company?” he said and sat close. Their thighs were touching and Brent felt his heart hammering as if he were running again.
He only nodded. Could he actually ask for what he wanted or was he just going to watch, detached, as if it were a movie instead of real life? Brent had done that with Doug and the regret was still as real as the memories. He was already here. He'd already succumbed. He may as well make his request.
“I want to touch you too,” he said and turned. Once they were facing each other on the damp bench, he felt the stranger's wet palm wrap around his cock and begin to work it up and down slowly.
Brent gasped. The pleasure ran down him, from head to toe and he pushed his hips up, thrusting into and back out of, the palm that wasn't his own. The man's dick fit nicely into his own hand and when he squeezed it roughly, the man moaned loudly, saying, “Fuck, yes, just like that. You're so hot, come here,” the stranger said and rocked his body back and forth. His fingers were in Brent's hair as he pulled him close. Brent was completely in lust and opened his mouth, ready for a long, deep kiss but the man moved down. He didn't want to kiss - he wanted Brent's pink, swollen nipple.
The tongue slipped around his tender flesh and when the man nibbled on his point, Brent was lost. The ecstasy ran through him and he gulped, “Oh yeah, suck it, suck on my tit and play with my cock,” he moaned. There was more that he wanted and he knew that he was far too close to be able to say no if it were a possibility. He tugged the stranger's cock back and forth. They kept the same rhythm and the wet sounds of skin on skin almost sounded as if they were fucking.
