We got our delivery the next day while we were starting the next round of testing. I had to go out and take a bunch of ice samples, and some soil samples, such as they were. There's not a lot of soil in Antarctica and what there is is mostly near the shoreline, so I had to walk back toward the water, looking for the tiny patches of earth. It took hours. Luckily it wasn't that cold and it was mostly sunny. The sky was perfectly clear and the snow was thinking about melting, although it didn't quite.
Zalan had gone the other direction, inland, to take samples from the plateau above us. I got my samples and trudged back to the station, enjoying the sun on my face. It was mid-afternoon and I was hungry, but there was no sign of Zalan, so I made myself some lunch.
Just as I was sitting down to eat, the door opened and he came in, breathing heavily. He was limping. He looked at me, annoyance all over his face. His cheeks were pink from the cool air. “I fell on the rocks as I was coming back...”
I looked down at his leg. There was a tear in his trousers and there was blood soaking the fabric. I stood up quickly. “How bad is it?”
He laughed awkwardly. “It's isn't bad...” He hobbled over to the sofa, cursing in Hungarian.
I went over to him, not sure what to do. He sat down and sighed. “I'm sorry...”
“Don't be sorry. Maybe you should take your pants off. I'll get some dressing and disinfectant.”
I went into the bathroom where we had a first-aid kit. There was gauze and disinfectant cream that I took out with me. He was sitting in his underwear – pure quite briefs that contrasted sharply with all the dark hair on his thighs. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.
“Can I...?” I crouched down and took a look at the wound on his knee. It wasn't deep, but it was bleeding. I used a cloth to wipe up the blood. I dabbed the disinfectant on his shin which was warm and smooth. I internally shrugged a fantasy out of my head and affixed some gauze over the cut and taped it. There was this smell coming off his body, coming from – obviously – what was under his briefs. Warm and spicy, musky and hypnotic. It was all I could do not to pull his briefs off and...I gritted my teeth and stood up.
All the while Zalan had been sitting watching me with a pained expression. When I was standing again he said, “I hate blood. It makes me nauseous.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Why...?”
Laughing, he said, “I have no idea. When I was a boy I cut my hand in the kitchen and fainted. Who knows? My brother made fun of me for years.”
I laughed and said, “Well, I won't make fun of you. Promise.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “We need to be careful on those rocks.”
“Agreed. Did you get the samples?”
“Yes. They're in the cooler.”
I was glad to hear it since I didn't want to have to get more. “Let me make us dinner. You can sit and rest.”
“I'm an invalid, Nathan.”
I felt stupid for a moment. “I know...but...well, sorry.”
He looked guilty and said, “But thank you. For this...” His voice was soft.
I went to the kitchen and started dinner.
--
For the next few days, I felt stupid. His cut really wasn't that bad and I felt like I had made a big deal out of it. But he did seem grateful. We did our work and it filled all the time as usual. We didn't talk about it, but something between us seemed to have softened. It felt more relaxed between us, less awkward.
Another week went by, then another. We got into a nice rhythm. Breakfast, collecting samples, testing, dinner. Repeat.
The weather became slightly warmer, the snow began to recede. Antarctic summer was approaching. Summer in the this context is a euphemism. It just means it gets slightly above freezing. Like 5 Celsius is a really warm day. But it was something. And the point of our research was the Antarctic summer was getting warmer. And longer.
One night several weeks after the whole leg-bandage thing, I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself. Zalan and I were clearly becoming friends. But I was lonely and sexually frustrated more than I had been since I was fourteen. I jerked off every night. At least once. I had watched my meagre selection of porn so many times I had become almost – but not quite – desensitized. I mean watching guys be fucked – double-fucked in some cases – or watching a guy suck off a room full of cocks and take each load with abandon was hot, but...after a while, the spark starts to fade.
So I lay feeling sad. Zalan was in the next room. Right beside me, in fact, but with a wall in between. I had fantasies of just barging in there and telling him to shut his eyes and think of Hungary. But of course I couldn't. I had propositioned enough straight guys over the years that I didn't want that kind of humiliation again. Especially since we were stuck together for so long. There could be no hiding.
But my bladder had other ideas in that moment. I got up and walked quietly into the main room, not wanting to wake him up. I saw that his door was partly open, so I moved even more carefully. On the way back I told myself not to look in his room, but of course I did. I could see his bed with him in it. He was lying on top of his sheets. Nude. And hard. And stroking a very impressive piece of equipment. In the half-light – there was some moonlight coming in the little window – it was like a snapshot, the briefest glimpse. I kept walking, but it was as if a very bright light had turned on in my head.
Oh-so-quietly I slipped into my room, closing the door very quietly. My own cock was rigid and I very quietly stroked and stroked, imagining that gorgeous cock in my mouth or my ass and shot a bucket of cum right up to my neck, even my chin. It was intense. I cleaned myself off with my hand, savouring my load and sighed. It felt great, but at the same time I wanted so much more and I knew I wouldn't get it. I would just have to accept that stroking my own cock to the image of him lying there was as good as it would get.
The next day I felt stupid and was worried that Zalan had seen walk by his room, even if it was only for a moment. But he seemed his usual self: cheerful and efficient. And the next week allowed me to settle down, even if I spent some quality time in my head with the image of his body with all its dark hair and his healthy, uncut cock.
--
We had been in the tiny facility for a month and a half when we had a weekend free to ourselves. One round of experiments had been completed and the next protocol wouldn't start until the coming Monday. In honour of our free time, Zalan offered to make some goulash with some frozen meat we had. Usually we ate simple, prepackaged frozen meals, but we also had a few ingredients in case someone got adventurous.
I opened a nice bottle of red wine I brought and I stood in the kitchen area watching him work. He was wearing this tight blue shirt that hugged his torso in all kinds of distractingly nice ways, his nipples making little tents at the front. His ass in his black lounge pants was firm and meaty. I shook my head and took a gulp of wine. He turned to me and said, “Tell me about your last relationship...I'm curious...”
Startled, I wasn't sure what to say. “What do you want to know? Like our sex lives?” I hoped it was and I hoped it wasn't what he wanted to hear.
He looked embarrassed and said, “Oh..well, not specifically...no...” He stopped, clearly at a loss.
With a feeling of annoyance that another straight guy was treating me like a freak, as if the idea that I could have an emotionally rich relationship was a novelty for him, I said, “I'm sure it was much like yours.”
He could tell I was irritated. He swallowed and I admired the muscles in his neck. His sculpted jaw tensed and he licked his oh-so-luscious lips. “I was just...curious. Relationships can be hard. Learning how to communicate with each other. How to have a disagreement without anyone getting hurt. That kind of thing.”
It was my turn to feel bad. Of course he wanted to know what it was really like. He was interested in my relationship and the fact that I was gay was secondary. I briefly thought about my experience with Ilya and Stephen, but I decided that was too much to start with. I took a sip of wine and said, “Well, Sandy and I weren't very good at having an argument. He would get really defensive, really fast and shut the whole thing down. It's part of what broke us up in the end. And the fact that he didn't want to commit to anything much. But we had amazing sex...” I knew I was being provocative by saying that, but I just had to.
Zalan turned to me, his big brown eyes wide, his face all adorably crinkled with amusement. “That does help, doesn't it?”
I could feel myself blushing. “Yes. Yes it does.” I decided to give back as good as I got. “And you and Anna?”
He knew I meant sex. He swallowed again and turned to stare into the pot he was stirring. His hands were elegant but muscular, with long fingers and delicate wrists. I wanted to kiss them. “Anna and I...” He stopped and I could tell he was thinking.
I suddenly felt guilty. “You don't have to tell me...”
He turned to me and said, “No. It's only fair. Anna and I are very comfortable with each other. Our sex life is...very sweet.”
I decided it was an odd word to use for his sex life. Sweet? What did that even mean?”
He must have seen the thoughts on my face. He quickly said, “We love each other and we have known each other since we were children. So when we have sex it is about that. We share pleasure and love.”
I was beginning to understand and it indeed sounded sweet. But I also know men and most men – gay or straight – sometimes like sex that is intense and even aggressive, passionate and messy. I wondered if he yearned for that. I stopped myself from thinking that he might yearn for that with me. I took another sip of wine and said, “That sounds...lovely. You must know each other very well.”
He nodded and drank from his glass of wine.
We ate at the little table and talked about our lives. We were becoming more and more comfortable. His parents had divorced in his adolescence. He had lived with his mother in Budapest. His father and his brother had lived in Moscow, but then his brother came back to Hungary. Apparently their father was a shit.
I told him about my family, about my brother and his kids. About my ridiculous and loving parents. I told him about Ilya and Stephen and how I met them, and their child. I wanted to tell him about the fact that I had more or less been in a relationship with them, that we were all in love with each other, but I just couldn't. I did say that I occasionally had sex with them, partly to see how he would react.
He didn't say anything. But I could tell he was thinking about a lot. He poured us the last of the bottle and we toasted to friendship which was clearly what was happening between us. It felt lovely. So lovely that my cock started to swell. Emotional stuff does that to me. Then he did something I wasn't expecting. He got up and went to his bedroom and I heard a drawer being opened, and then he returned and sat down. With a joint.
I hadn't seen one in years. “What are you doing?”
He grinned at me and said, “I smuggled some in my luggage. I thought we needed a little celebration at finishing the first round of tests.”
“Uh...right.” I didn't know what to say. I always liked a THC buzz, but now? In Antarctica? It felt strange.
I watched as he lit the joint and take a long inhale from it, then he handed it to me. Feeling like I was fifteen, I inhaled and immediately began to cough, my lungs burning. I knew I was in trouble. I knew that when that happened, I was going into space. Which I did almost immediately.
I looked over at him and he was grinning at me, his eyes half-closed. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip, then put his glass down and smirked at me. I had no idea what was in his head, but then he said, “So did you enjoy seeing me the other night?”
I froze, my eyes widening. “Uh...so you saw me...?” My head was spinning and I suddenly felt anxious and turned on.
“I saw you.”
I didn't know what to say. I finally said with stoned defensiveness, “So why did you leave your door open?”
With a wide smile Zalan said, “Well I didn't think you would be looking in.”
With a really tense laugh, my head in a whirl, I said, “Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do? Pretend like I don't see a guy wanking in front me?”
He drank some more wine and shook his head. He didn't look annoyed, which surprised me. His hair was all messy and he had a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His lips were wet and I wanted to kiss them so badly. But I couldn't. The thought, however, set of a little explosion in my balls. He finally said, “I don't mind. I mean...I didn't mind. It's natural, isn't it? We all do it.”
This was true. But I said, “But we don't all watch each other do it.”
“Right...” He stopped and looked down at his lap. I wanted to reach over and run my hands through that curly dark hair. Then he looked up and said, “If you want...we could jerk off together. I mean...only if you want to.”
I was stunned. I sat back in my chair and wondered where this was coming from. Was he as stoned as I was? Was he just being nice? Was he interested? Was he in the mood to experiment? I said, “What do you mean, together?”
He suddenly stood up and grabbed the plates. He looked at me a moment with a tortured expression on his face. “Forget I said anything. I was just wanting to make you less uncomfortable. And also, well...I'm stoned, so...never mind.”
I felt a bit of anger well up in me. “Uncomfortable? You wanting to take it all back is making me uncomfortable. Tell me what you mean!” I wasn't sure if my words were making sense, but things in my loose pants were getting crowded.
He stopped, still holding the plates, his back to me. His legs in his lounge pants looked slim and strong. His ass was...perfect. He turned around, his face tense. “I just thought we could do what we both do, but do it together. And for you it would be that much more fun, since you could watch me. And I've never seen another man wank before...”
I was at a loss for words. I felt a rush of excitement, then a rush of anxiety and a rush of some other things that cannabis does. I said, “Seriously?”
He nodded and turned to the sink where he began to wash up the dishes in that very serious, careful way that smoking up does, as if they were the most delicate plates in existence. I stood and got the dirty pot from the stove and handed it to him. We spent a few minutes in silence, him washing, me drying. When everything was clean I turned and went to the sofa. I sat, tense and confused and really turned on, tingling washing over my whole body. I could feel my cock straining at the fabric of my pants. I put my arms down to cover it.
He walked slowly over to the sofa and carefully sat down a little distance from me. He turned to me and said, “Are you angry?”
I spat out a laugh and said, “Hardly. I'm confused and excited, if you want to know.”
“Confused? Why?”
“Because you're straight and you offered to jerk off with me. That's confusing.”
He nodded, but then he said, “But we're not going to have sex...”
I wish. “Right, but still...it's pushing the boundaries of what straight men do.” The attempt to make sense was causing my head to spin even faster.
He actually looked relieved when I said that. “Oh, I see. Well don't worry about it. I think everyone is curious about what other people get up to in bed. Just because I'm curious, doesn't mean I'm suddenly gay.”
He had a point. “Right. So...you want to jerk off with me. Fine. When?”
He shrugged. “How about now?”
He got up and walked into his room. I heard his voice say, “Are you coming?”
With a gulp, I stood unsteadily and went into his room. It was exactly the same as mine. Except he was already lying on the bed, his lounge pants pulled down to his thighs. And he had taken his shirt off.
I said, “You don't waste any time...”
He laughed, but I could see that he was as nervous as I was. And as stoned as I was. That helped. I glanced at his legs. His lean, but strong torso with all that hair. His nipples were pink and stood out in contrast. The bush around his cock was thick and his dick was...beautiful. It wasn't hard, just a little inflated, but it was hefty and the foreskin was plump. His balls were massive and hairy. I noticed his feet for the first time, which were strong and I wanted to suck on his toes, even though I'm not normally interested in feet. I wanted to suck other things, too...
Without thinking about it, I slid my lounge pants off but left my t-shirt on. I was wearing black boxers which I pulled down and, with the thought of 'it's now or never' I got onto the bed beside him. It was a small bed. Barely twin-sized. He was right beside me and our shoulders were in contact, our hips just touching. It was electric. My cock started to puff up. I decided I couldn't help it so we just lay there watching me get a really sturdy erection.
My cut dick was pulsing with my heartbeat. I have a nice thatch of brown hair around it and my balls are plump and suckable, if I do say so myself, My chest and stomach are sparsely covered in hair, my nipples erect and big. Also suckable. I really liked guys sucking my tits. Who doesn't?
I finally tore my gaze away from my cock and looked at his. It had gotten bigger. The end of his cock was peeping out from his foreskin. I said, “So...what do we do now?”
He chuckled and took hold of his cock and said, “I think you know.”
He was right of course. We both started to stroke. I moved slowly, not wanting to cum too soon and I wanted to watch what he did. He, for his part, took longer to get hard, but he did. I noticed he had his phone beside him with some porn playing. I couldn't see the screen too clearly, but there where tits involved. And I glimpsed a massive porn cock being sucked.
But I turned back to what he was doing which was stroking very steadily. Each time he moved his hand up, his hairy balls would shift. I could hear the sound of the wetness on his cock against his hand. There was a big blob of precum sitting on the tip that gradually drooled down. I almost moaned watching it. I wanted so much to lick it off. His body was giving off that smell again, but this time more intense, more animal and sharp. My already spinning head spun even more.
I turned back to my own cock which was like steel and getting all red at the end. I knew I would blow really fast if I wasn't careful. The lust in my head made me ask, “Do you ever eat that stuff?”
He turned to me, a puzzled look on his face. “Stuff?”
I indicated with my head his cock and the now stream of juice flowing out onto his fist. He laughed suddenly and said, “No! Should I?” But then he did. He took his finger and collected a bunch, bringing it to his mouth where he sucked it off with some satisfaction. He turned to me and said, “Nice...” He stopped and got this wicked look on his face. He ran his forefinger over the head of his dick and presented it to me. “Want to try?”
I almost shot my load. A series of explosions went off in my body. I couldn't believe it. Without a thought I leaned forward and sucked his forefinger into my mouth. It tasted slightly tangy, slight sweet. What the fuck were we doing, some part of my brain said. The rest of me was in heaven and so much so that one of those orgasms that cannabis induces hit me like a tornado. Fast, intense, incandescent. I jerked my cock really fast and cum erupted from the red tip in a long spurt that hit my face, my chin, then splashed all over my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and arched my back. The intensity was overwhelming. I gasped and gasped and felt like I was going to catch fire.
“Nathan! My God, man, that was amazing! You shot cum everywhere!”
I opened my eyes and saw what he meant. My chest was covered in it. I could feel it drooling from my chin, coating my bottom lip. I stuck my tongue out and collected it, enjoying the familiar, slightly sour taste.
I turned to look at Zalan. He was grinning at me. His eyes were bloodshot from the cannabis. I said, “Your turn.”
He laughed and looked at his phone. I could see some guy ploughing the woman with enormous tits from behind. I could still taste his precum. My dick, which has softened a little, started to get hard again. What was I? A randy adolescent again? But I didn't care. I was still flying, my head buzzing, my body still shimmering with sex.
Zalan was pumping his thick, Hungarian cock, his foreskin doing its work. He grunted a few times and then, suddenly, gasped and began to hyperventilate. He threw his head back and his hand moved even more quickly as shot after shot spurted out of his dick. Not as rocket-fuelled as mine, but it painted his chest in thick, white pools of cum. Thicker than mine. I was practically drooling in my haze, and I wanted to much to lick it off.
Gasping, he said something in Hungarian that I hoped was, 'Nathan, clean my dick off with your mouth'. But he sighed and looked over at me. I could see a bunch of things happening in his head. He sighed again and said, “That was...nice. Thank you.”
It was so formal and polite. I almost laughed, but he seemed to be sincere. I nodded and said, “You're welcome.”
I looked down at the cooling pools of cum on me and said, “I think I need a shower.” I slid off his bed and almost asked him if he wanted to join me, but I could tell that would be crossing that line completely. He was straight. I just had to accept it. A straight guy who likes to tease gay guys a bit, but I could forgive him for that.
He grinned and said, “Go ahead. You need it more than I do.”
He was right. I was surprised my body could produce so much liquid at one time. I've always produced a healthy amount of cum, but this? It was impressive.
I staggered to our little bathroom and took a quick shower in scalding water. We had to be careful not to use too much water at one time, even thought here was a system of using the snow around us, it still took time and energy to produce more for our use.
I dried myself off and walked over to his room. He was asleep. His mouth was open, his body sprawled all over the bed. I was coming down a bit, but I so wanted to crawl into bed with him and kiss him until morning. I shook my cloud-filled head and went to my room. I didn't fall asleep for a while, still coming down, still not quite able to believe that we had jerked off together. My dreams were foggy and filled with longing.
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