I reached out and brushed a lock of hair off Chris' forehead. It was softer than I was expecting I'm used to it being styled and gelled to a certain stiffness. Like mine, most days.
He was clearly nervous, now that we were back in his bedroom, ready to follow through on what he'd been offering. It wasn't so much how he was acting as it was the look in his eyes. If it were anyone other than Chris I would have just ignored that, convinced myself it was a trick of my imagination, but this man was my best friend.
"Hey," I said quietly. "We don't have to go through with this if you're having second thoughts."
"I'm not," he said firmly. My hand still hovered by his face, and he raised his own to grasp my wrist tenderly. He turned his head and pressed a kiss into my palm. "I'm not a blushing virgin, Joe. I've just been thinking about this particular moment for a long time. I'm trying to convince myself it's really happening."
"You mean with me?" I asked. I know I sounded stupid, but I didn't care.
"Yeah, with you," he said, laughing. He still looked nervous, but also so, so happy. He used his grasp on my wrist to pull me closer, and our lips met for the first time. I'd wondered, from time to time, how Chris' lips would feel, the same way I'd wondered idly about all the guys in the group. But, if I was being honest, more about Chris than any of the others. They were both firmer and softer than I'd imagined.
He was a bit unyielding at first, as though he'd just made up his mind to dive in for a kiss and hadn't really registered that he'd done it yet. Then, suddenly, they relaxed and parted momentarily, closing again on my lower lip and sucking it gently.
His free hand fell to my waist and pulled me closer; our bodies were touching. We were both still fully dressed, but it hardly mattered to us--the kiss wasn't merely the prelude, it was an event unto itself.
"Wow," I said, grinning at him. I tried to elaborate, but only 'wow' came out again.
"Yeah, wow," agreed Chris, equally awed by the intensity. "I mean, I thought it would be good, but I never imagined anything like that."
But as thrilling as it was, the intensity was uncomfortable all the same. I mean, this was Chris I was kissing. A guy I've known for over five years. A guy who I thought I knew inside and out, who was my best friend, who was like a brother. It was absolutely right and mind-bogglingly wrong at the same time, and I desperately needed to do something to decrease the emotional high.
"I guess it's been a long time since either of us got any, huh," I joked.
He tilted his head to the side curiously for a moment, and I got the uncomfortable feeling that he was reading me, then he nodded and smiled. "You have no idea, man." He kissed me again, harder, more confidently. "For tonight, just sex," he whispered.
I nodded. Forget the pretty boys, forget the notions of love and commitment, forget the fact that we were members of one of the biggest pop groups in the world, forget everything except for the fact that we wanted to be together for this one night. And worry about the rest later.
I let him hold me close and kissed his neck, right behind his ear. I remembered him telling me one night, when we were both drunk and slumped over a private table in the hotel bar, how his girlfriend Cathleen used to lick him there and it almost made him come on the spot. I guess I wasn't quite as good as her, but I made him shiver which wasn't too bad in my book.
"Oh," he gasped and released my wrist to clutch at my back, pulling my smoky shirt away from my skin as though he needed to tear it away. "Oh, Joey!"
It did ridiculously good things to me to hear him say my name like that. I pulled away and peeled my shirt off quickly, tossing it carelessly to the floor, then took him into my arms and kissed him there again. And again. And again on the other side.
"Hold up," he said, pulling away. Given the look on his face, it was possibly with his last thread of resistance. He stripped off his own shirt and reached for my bare chest. His hands were cool and strong as they explored me; no clammy-palmed nervousness, only a deliberate sureness to touch every inch of exposed skin.
"Oh, fuck," I said as he ran his palms over my nipples, rolling my head backwards and almost losing my balance. Christ he was good. I overbalanced myself forward, with airy deliberateness, and fell on top of him on the bed.
"Eager boy," he whispered and planted a sloppy kiss on my nose. How could I help but laugh at that? I scrubbed it off with the back of my hand, chuckling all the while, and planted a kiss of my own on his grinning lips. It was the quickest and best way I've ever found to shut him up.
My hands were on either side of his body, supporting me as we ground against one another, our jeans an uncomfortable barrier between our twin erections. But a necessary one, at least for a few more moments. I had to close my eyes again as a wave of astonishment swept over me. I was in bed with my best friend, and damn if it wasn't good.
"Too many clothes," he said sharply, fumbling with the top button of my jeans.
"Too fast," I countered him and pulled his hands away, twining his fingers with my own then trapping them over his head. I licked that spot on his neck again and I swear he growled. "We have all night."
"No," he said, bucking his hips up against me urgently. "We have about five minutes. Wanna make the most of it?"
I did, so I rolled off him. At his wide-eyed look, I threw an arm casually over his torso and pressed my face against his neck, breathing heavily against his skin.
"Joe?" he said quietly into the stillness that suddenly surrounded us. "Did I do something wrong?"
I suddenly realized what I'd done, and how it must have seemed to him. I resisted the urge to laugh and instead kissed his throat. "Just slowing down for a second. I don't want this to be over before it starts."
He relaxed, visibly. "Who says we can only go once?" he asked, grinning and raising an eyebrow at me. Or rather, trying to raise an eyebrow and mostly just ending up with a cute but odd facial contortion. I knew damn well how long I could go for, but I had to study Chris for a long moment to see if he was serious or not.
He reached down and rubbed himself through his jeans with the palm of his hand, adjusting himself slightly but also increasing his need. He closed his eyes and moaned aloud. For a moment all I could do was stare at his face, taking in the expression of both frustration and bliss. I kissed his slightly parted lips and moved down to whisper in his ear.
"In that case," I told him, keeping my voice low and--hopefully--seductive, "I can't have you doing that without me." I sat up and stripped my pants and boxers off in one smooth motion, tossing them half onto the chair and half onto the floor. I stripped him, too, quickly and without making a game of it. Given the look on his face, I don't think he could have survived that.
Now, I've sucked cock a lot of times. In fact, when I'm with a guy, it's one of my favorite things to do. Hell, it's one of my favorite things to do, period, and I know I'm good at it. But this was the first time, and I mean first time ever, that I was intimately familiar with the last dozen or so lovers my partner had had. How could I help wondering how I measured up? So, even as I kissed my way down Chris' writhing body, I had a tiny, niggling feeling of doubt.
It wasn't until he clutched frantically at my hair and thrust himself into my throat that I was convinced I still had it.
"Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck," he repeated over and over, breathlessly, his grip on my hair becoming almost painful. He fell silent as he came, sucking in a huge lungful of air and letting it out slowly as his body began to relax.
I swallowed. Of course. What was the point if you didn't swallow?
"Now can we take our time?" I asked, my normal speaking voice booming in the quiet room. He laughed, loudly, and for a brief moment we were just good buddies again. Another time it might have been a relief; but instead I felt a momentary sense of loss.
"Come here," he said, letting his fingers slip from my now-thoroughly mussed hair. He kissed my lips tenderly and looked into my eyes. "What do you like?" he asked. "What can I do for you?"
"First of all," I said, kissing him back, "it's with me. And...hell, I don't know. Touch me, grab me, bite me...as long as I know you want me it's all good." I rubbed his chest lightly with my palm, then cupped the back of his head and kissed him again. He was still catching his breath, and I had to wait a moment before he began to touch me.
"Like this?" he asked, caressing my chest again, and by the glint in his eye I knew he wasn't expecting any kind of answer. Or wanting one. Which was good because he was at my nipples again and damned if I hadn't told him just a week or two ago how sensitive they were. It was hardly like having a new lover at all.
He also knew about the spot on the back of my legs, right where the thigh curves up into the ass, and meandered down to it with torturous attention to the rest of my body. I had meant to touch him, too, to bring him back up to a slow boil, but he kept me immobile and breathless the whole time. Looking over his body, though, at the sheen of sweat that covered it, at the erection that was already coming to life again, I guessed that he didn't feel neglected.
I jerked in shock, though, as he gently lifted my hips and his lips touched my ass. And I stiffened completely as his tongue flicked out across my hole. It had been years--*years*--since anyone had done that to me. He pulled away as he felt me stiffen and I moaned at the loss. "Is that okay?" he asked, quite seriously. "Should I stop?"
"You stop and I swear I'll kill you," I managed to gasp out. My arms flailed for a moment, but he was out of my reach and I had to settle for grasping the sides of the bed. He started again, tonguing me, licking me, kissing me. Any words I might have wanted to speak came out as incoherent moans and grunts. I think he understood them anyway.
When he did, finally, pull away and set me gently on the bed, I let out a low moan and opened my heavy-lidded eyes to look at him. His hair was all over the place, like mine must have been, and his eyes sparkled happily. I could see the smile on his face even though the corners of his mouth were hardly turned. And his mouth was about the only thing I was capable of thinking of. I really thought he was going to start blowing me, but he moved off the bed for a moment.
I propped myself up on my elbows. "Uh...Chris...?" He turned back around and I saw he was holding a condom. "Are you going to...?"
"No," he said, handing me the condom. "You are." Then he smiled fully and pointed with his chin at the lubricant that was now on the night table. He lay down on the bed next to me and began lazily stroking my cock with the tips of his fingers. "If you want too."
"Hell yeah," I said, closing my eyes and grabbing his wrist to keep him from stroking me. I was too far gone already; another couple minutes of that and nobody'd be getting fucked tonight. "Gimme a sec." I called up the most non-sexual image I could--my mother--and waited for the quick, anxious feeling inside me to subside. I opened my eyes.
Chris was lying on his side, stroking himself slowly and watching me as I slowly came back to him. I pulled his hand away and began stroking him myself, maneuvering us so that he had his back to the bed and I was propped on an elbow looking over him. I looked away from his eyes only to slide the condom on, then immediately looked back.. His breathing had quickened and his eyes were wide.
"Chris," I asked him seriously, needing to give him this one last out. "Are you sure you want this?"
"Oh, Christ, Joe, fuck me already!" he burst out, spreading his legs wider and reaching out to clutch my thigh. He was biting his lip now, and I could see the expectant tension tightening every muscle in his body.
"Okay," I said simply and reached for the lubricant. There was one thing I learned from my first boyfriend that I've never forgotten. Too much lube is never enough. I coated myself thoroughly and turned back to the man waiting for me on the bed. His eyes were closed and his hands clutched the bed sheets almost nervously.
I touched him on the hip to get his attention, then lifted him a little so that he was resting on my knees. I didn't ask him if he was ready this time; I already knew. Reaching between his cheeks gently, I began spreading lube everywhere. I couldn't tell from his body language whether he'd done this before or not, and I knew from experience to play it safe. Whether he'd done it before or not, slow and gentle would always be the safe bet.
He jerked as my first finger entered him. "Oh fuck, that's good," he breathed.
"Yeah," I agreed with him, chuckling softly. Chris looked amazing like this, prone and spread across the bed, naked, his hard cock straining over his stomach, his eyes tightly closed. I wanted a picture, but had to settle for the one I took in my head.
I began stroking my finger in and out, watching to make sure all the little signs were there to show he was enjoying himself. "In me," he groaned, reaching out blindly for me. "I want you to fuck me, Joe. No more waiting."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, and repositioned us so that I could enter him easily. Taking a deep breath, I began to move forward. He cried out a little as my head entered him and I paused, stoking his thighs with my fingertips and waiting for a signal to move again. He bit his lip and nodded; he must have known I'd be watching him. I moved forward again, and again, and again, pausing after each small motion, until finally I was completely inside of him.
I watched him slowly open his eyes. "Oh my god," was all he said, then gave me a lopsided grin.
I grinned back, feeling utterly happy, and began thrusting slowly. He moaned and I knew it was in pleasure this time 'round. His body had become accustomed to having me inside, and now it was responding to the stimulation.
"Harder," he said, louder than I was expecting. "Faster. I want to feel you."
I began thrusting into him, feeling safe that he was comfortable now and worrying about my own needs. He had told me what he wanted and I was doing just that...and was damn close to coming myself. So damn close. I clenched my jaw and continued driving into him.
"It's okay, Joe," he said, his voice penetrating my single-minded haze. I looked into his eyes and he said only one more thing. "Come."
And I did. Boy did I. I swear, I almost blacked out I came so hard. I barely even noticed when Chris reached down and stroked himself a few times until he bit down on my shoulder, hard, during his orgasm. I fell against him, my breath coming in hard gasps, and let my softening cock slip out of his body.
"Ow," he said finally when we were both breathing normally again. I laughed and rolled off him, letting one arm rest across his shoulders and using the other to slide the condom off and throw it in the trash.
"Sorry," I offered, still smiling. I can't remember feeling quite this happy in a long time. I mean, not that I've been mopey or depressed, but just not happy the way I remember being happy when I was younger, when everything was simple.
"That was great," said Chris, snuggling up to me and closing his eyes.
"You going to sleep?" He looked like he was going to say no, then he yawned and nodded sheepishly. "Me too," I told him, kissing him lightly. "You staying?"
"Do you mind?"
"No," I told him, but he was already dozing off. I pulled the disheveled covers over us and fell asleep, my cheek pressed against his shoulder and my arms wrapped loosely around him.