I'm Not Gay

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. How could I? 

My mind was reeling, I kept hearing it in my head. “I’m not gay.” 

I couldn’t stop it from replaying over and over in my head, the entire scene playing out before me in loops. “I’m not gay, if you tell anyone I’ll fucking kill you.” 

I shuddered. This was my fault. Completely. Why did I let it go so far? Why did I let my feelings for Blaine and my desire to be with him sexually completely overcome what I had known in my heart about him for months? He was straight, I was gay. 

But..was he? 

I was so frustrated, so many questions came out of this entire experience. 

And then there was the way he treated me. How ruthless and emotionless he became once it started, and how cold and viciously he spit those words at me. Like I was no one at all to him anymore. As if now that we had done this horrible thing, I didn’t matter. I was suddenly a problem, an evil problem and everything we had meant to each other was nothing anymore. 

“I’m not gay. I’ll fucking kill you.” Ugh, it made my skin tingle. What’s worse is that I actually believed him. I had never seen him be violent. Sure, I believe everyone has a tendency to be violent if provoked, I mean you never really know what’s going on in peoples heads, but still. Blaine? Violent with me? I would have never seen that coming. 

I have to get out of here, I thought. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, in reality it may have only been for the first thirty minutes after we had both came, me on the floor, him in my ass. Despite the horrible aftermath, I had to admit that it was turning me on that I had his seed still inside of me; churning, mixing with my own DNA. Yet the horror and the immense shame I felt, outweighed any pleasure and desire I felt about the experience. 

Quietly, I grabbed my backpack and slunk out of the living room, carefully shutting the front door as silently as I could behind me before I crept into the freezing cold night to walk back to my house. I just couldn’t be in the room with him anymore. The words kept hanging in the air like knives, waiting to stab me again. 

The walk back to my house was somber, with every step I felt heavier; like my backpack weighed thousands of pounds with feelings of my experience with him. When I finally got home, I had to shower. As much as I wanted to revel in the feeling of his fingers on me, where his nails dug into my hips, where his hand grabbed onto my cock, and his breath felt hot on the skin of my legs, I had to get it off. I needed to wash away the entire ordeal, as if washing it away would take it all back. 

I felt detached as I soaped up my tender hole, and pushed out his load from my ass. I watched as it swirled the drain, feeling like it was a metaphor for our friendship.

How long had I wanted this? How long had I pictured exactly what happened with fervent desire pulsing through me as I shot my load night after night, wishing Blaine would take me like he had. Like every porn scene I had watched where the rough top breeds the oh so submissive bottom. 

Yet, this wasn’t what I wanted. Not like this. 

Yeah, I had loved the way Blaine had handled me. I hadn’t loved how roughly he started, in fact my ass still felt extra sore due to the lack of preparation or lube. But my submissive side reveled in how hard and roughly he had used my body. What followed after, however, was what made stomach turn. It made the rough part of the entire thing somehow tainted. 

The line between rough sex and passionate rough sex was a thin one. It’s not as though we went into it like a hookup, with the expectation that there weren’t any feelings, that we both wanted it to be that way. That it was a consensual hateful experience.

No, we went into it as best friends. Two friends that loved each other. Well, I loved him, but I had assumed that he loved me at least as a friend? We had never said that to each other, but I figured it was a safe assumption. Serves me right, you know what they say about assumptions. 

The whole thing felt like Blaine was taking something out on me, instead of sharing it with me.  

“I’m not gay.”

Was he gay? I mean, it’s hard to imagine a truly one hundred percent straight boy doing the things we had done together. He had made the first move, not me. He had asked to jerk off together, he was the one who told me to touch him, and he was definitely the one that pushed me down and put his cock down my throat. It wasn’t the other way around. 

“I’m not gay.”

I wish I could get it out of my head. I finished my shower and crawled into bed wearing nothing but my boxers. I was freezing, my teeth chattering, but it felt good somehow. Like the cold could provide clarity. It didn’t.

“I’m not gay.”

Shut up! I screamed internally. Was he gay??

What other excuse could there be for us having sex? Okay, I mean truthfully there were several excuses. Some of them I didn’t like; hell he could be an abuser, secretly violent with a kick for wanting to take people and use them whether they were men or women. That thought scared me. “Ill fucking kill you.”

I shook my head against my pillow, before I put it over my head. No, that isn’t it. I really believed that wasn’t the case. I still felt like I knew him deep down, and despite everything I didn’t think that could truly be him. 

He could be bisexual. I didn’t understand it personally, I mean for me it was just guys, I couldn’t imagine being into both, but it was still a thing. Then there was experimentation, not an abnormal thing for guys or girls, especially at our age. Maybe that was it, maybe he had been having these thoughts for a while but didn’t know how to deal with them. Sexuality is a hard thing to define, I mean it’s just not black and white for everyone, it can be a fluid thing and very difficult for people, especially men to come to grips with. 

I screamed into the pillow. “I’m not gay, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Knowing it could be hard, and knowing that it could be scary, but not letting how he treated me completely destroy me were two very different things. Not only that, but not knowing the true cause felt like it was going to gnaw at me until I was nothing but a shriveled shrieking mess.

“I’m not gay, I’ll fucking kill you.” As I fell asleep after what felt like an eternity, the words still rang in my ears.

*****

Depression’s a bitch. 

It's a pernicious corrosive thread that permeates every fiber of who I am. When I’m in it, that’s it. There is nothing else, all emotions are second to it, and I have to fight to feel anything at all. It’s an old friend, comforting in a way that you know them, but terrifying because you know the effects are completely up to them, not you. The effects and the term of stay. 

I’ve gotten out of it before, but I never knew how long my old friend would stay or the intense damage it could do in its duration. 

The next few days following what Blaine and I had done were foggy at best. Christmas with my family had felt like a sluggish memory, going through the motions, but inwardly being nowhere near it.

He hadn’t called, he hadn’t texted. I wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t hurt any less. I missed my best friend, I missed him terribly. I didn’t know that I wanted a friend, that I needed a friend like he was to me until I had him. Yes, I was in love with him and that played a huge part in it too, but more than anything I just missed my friend. 

Laughter felt like a distant memory, and if I did smile, I was unaware of it. Completely in autopilot as the days passed. 

As much as I didn’t want to, I had let myself try to text and call him, but I didn’t hear anything back. The longer it went on, the worse I felt. I felt like a complete desperate mess trying to contact him. Apparently it was noticeable and my mom had even checked on me a few times, but I told her it was nothing; just a little down, I’d be fine. I didn’t know if it was true, as much as I hated to admit it, I had no idea if I’d be fine. 

My only solace was that I knew I would see him at school. He could still avoid me, but at least I would have the chance, ever so slightly that once he saw me, maybe he would finally say something to me. Maybe I could finally get some answers, maybe we could go back to just being friends and put the whole thing behind us. I was willing to do that, would definitely do that. I had made it this entire time, pushing my feelings for him aside, accepting who he was and that we would never be more than friends. I could do this, I could forget what happened if he could. 

I hated how desperate I felt, but in true addict form, I was heavily detoxing from being around him, and I felt like I was ready to do anything for us to go back to the way it was before. 

I hadn’t jerked off in days, the depression and regret of what had happened, clearing out any sexual desire or arousal about Blaine and I’s hookup. I couldn’t deny aspects of it were hot, but it was a tainted memory, more sad than anything. I knew a part of me was angry at him, but I wouldn’t let myself feel that either. 

Finally, despite everything, I couldn’t help but jerk off. I needed some form of a release, and as much as I didn’t want to, I couldn’t stop picturing us back in that living room. Two sweaty animals; him thrashing into me with his young, firm, powerful body. The way his gold chain bounced against his beautiful chest as he pumped me, how delicious his cock felt in my throat, how angelic his face was, even angry and emotionless as he looked down at me before he pushed my face into the pillow. 

I jerked my cock feverishly, hands roaming all over my slender smooth frame, imagining it was his hands. Those same strong, masculine hands. The first rope of cum flew over my head, hitting the wall, followed by several smaller ones that landed all around me. The orgasm was blissful, the first good feeling I’d had in days, but as I cleaned up, I felt worse. 

No porn in the world could ever live up to that memory. It was a chilling thought, and then, nothing. 

*****

It was the first day back to school, and despite the heavy depression that still weighed me down, I couldn’t help but be a little nervous and excited. It was my first chance to see him, it was unavoidable. I didn’t like feeling this desperate, but I was hoping against hope that maybe I would get some kind of closure. 

I watched for him at the bus stop, shivering and burying my face in my thick coat as the brisk January air blew over it. He didn’t show up, and as I got on the bus already feeling dejected, I remembered that he was getting his car over the Winter break and he would probably be driving to school so that was hopeful. Still, it was equally depressing being on the bus without him. I felt like I had lost an appendage, sitting alone towards the back. Paige tried to talk to me, noticing that I wasn’t with Blaine like usual, but I didn’t pay her any attention. 

I didn’t see him at all the first part of the day, which wasn’t abnormal, but the anxiety and build up was starting to drive me crazy. Just before lunch though, it finally happened. 

I had left my locker, depositing some books and grabbing some others, walking down the hall and there he was. He was standing with a small group of guys, all of them his friends. I knew them by name but that’s where it ended. They were all involved in sports, the super popular crowd. 

I stopped dead in my tracks, seeing him for the first time since Christmas, taking my breath away. He was simply gorgeous. He wore a tight, perfectly fitted maroon sweater that hugged his chest, large biceps and trim waist. He wore dark blue jeans with all white vans, no doubt Christmas presents. He had his backpack hung loosely over one shoulder, gripping it with one hand. His hair was a little shorter, the sides freshly buzzed and faded, his beautiful blond curly hair catching the light. 

He was smiling, laughing with the guys, cutting up and he bent over slightly as he chuckled. His lips were so inviting, so perfect, medium thick, perfectly formed over his white teeth. Those dimples that I adored were on full display. I felt weak. My entire body literally ached. 

This was torture. 

As he came back up from laughing, his eyes met mine. A chill went through me. His entire demeanor changed and a wide range of emotions passed over his face. Was that fear? 

Yes, fear, what looked like sadness maybe, then the cold emotionless stare that he had given me that night.

I was frozen, I didn’t know what to do. I knew at that moment he wouldn’t be talking to me today. Not today, maybe never and if he were to say anything to me, I knew it wouldn’t be what I wanted to hear. 

Miranda came up the next second beside him, and we broke the second long stare, as he went back to smiling. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her in and they turned their backs on me and walked quickly in the opposite direction. 

I nearly doubled over, like someone had just punched me in the gut. I felt sick, desolate and stupid. How could I have ever thought we could work this out? I really was a fucking idiot. This was how it was going to be now. I knew it when it happened, I knew it from the beginning, if we ever crossed this line, that would be it. 

Stupid, fucking stupid. 

I kept my head down the rest of the day, and at lunch I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and I definitely didn’t want to risk seeing Blaine again, even from across the room. 

Why did I even bother making any friends in this stupid town? It wasn’t in the plans, the plans were to be as I always was. Blend into the furniture, get through the rest of this terrible high school experience without incident. 

I felt anger boiling up inside of me as the day went on. Intense, immense, fiery anger. Anger was nice, I thought, anger was comforting. I would rather be angry than anything else at this moment and as the next few weeks passed by, that’s exactly what I was. 

*****

It had been several weeks since what I was now referring to as the incident, though the depression hadn’t subsided, I was being completely fueled by anger. I had latched onto it from the first day back to school, and I hadn’t let it go. I didn’t want to, it seemed to be the only thing that kept me going. 

At school I was mostly quiet and I kept my head down. I didn’t want to see him. Any hopes I had of us resuming our friendship were completely gone. I avoided the hallways I knew he used, going out of my way and taking crazy routes to my classes. At lunch, I didn’t look up except to answer a question or talk to Matt and Sheridan. 

I had to force myself to be friendly and join in conversation, or answer a random text. I was finding it hard though, and I’m pretty sure they were noticing. I didn’t want to be rude; it felt completely unfair to two people who had been so nice to me, but it was hard. 

I tried my best to erase Blaine from my life altogether, it was just too hard otherwise. I found that the anger kept me from thinking about him too much, because when I did I sunk into a pit of loneliness and sadness so bad that I thought I might drown in it. As if the water would sink into my pores, my throat, through my nose and choke me. I felt pathetic, because I didn’t want it to be so typical. First love, unrequited. I wasn’t even technically an adult yet, it was high school. It felt all too petty and irritating. Yet, unfortunately, it was where I was with the whole thing. Undeniable. 

I had deleted Blaine’s number from my phone, afraid I might do something stupid when I was too angry or too sad, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I thought about deleting him from Facebook, but decided I wouldn’t for now. Instead I just deleted the app from my phone and resigned to give up social media, at least for a while. 

It was the second week of February, on a Wednesday. You could feel the tension at school as the week tipped over the hill and we started the trek towards Friday. It was the end of the day, and I was walking out of the Entrance, down the long winding sidewalk towards where the buses were, when I heard a small old Ford Ranger truck pull up to the sidewalk behind me. 

“Lyle!” The voice called to me, over the noise of the engine and the buses down the sidewalk as they pulled up. I knew who it was instantly, and my blood ran cold. I stopped walking, but I didn’t turn around. 

“Lyle!” He called again. “Lyle, Come here, let me talk to you bro.” Blaine yelled. He didn’t sound angry, just persistent. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Why would he now all of a sudden want to talk to me? My mind ran through various scenarios in the seconds after he called me. 

Perhaps he wanted to yell at me, or throw punches. Maybe he wanted to lecture me on the importance of me not telling anyone what had happened. Maybe he wanted.. No, I wouldn’t let myself go there. I decided, whatever he wanted, I wasn’t interested. I could feel the anger smiling inwardly. 

“No thanks!” I hollered back, still not turning around as I continued my walk towards the bus. 

I heard the car door open and shut, and footsteps behind me. My anger wavered and fear crept up my spine. I knew if he wanted to fight, I would lose. He was probably three times stronger than I was, and he literally wrestled, so it wouldn’t be pretty. But I prepared myself anyway, I would at least try to fight. 

“Lyle! Just..ugh, just fucking wait.” He called out, coming up behind me fast and grabbing my arm, twisting me around. It wasn’t harsh, but forceful. 

“No fucking thanks dude..” I meant to say more, but the second I turned around and faced him, I lost my nerve. I wanted to crumble into a million places. Why did he have to be so goddamn beautiful all the time? 

His face was flushed, hair buried under a beanie, poking out of the sides. He had a red hoodie and white basketball shorts on. I wondered briefly why he was wearing shorts when it was freezing outside, then reminded myself that I didn’t care. I was surprised when I looked at him, his beautiful blue eyes were pleading, and there wasn’t anything harsh or brooding behind them. His delicate eyelashes were long and his face looked like it was drawn, forlorn maybe?

“Just wait,” he said again. “I need to talk to you man.” He still looked pleading. 

I felt my resistance waning. What could this be about? Did I care? Did I really want to let myself fall down this rabbit hole again? I could feel the abyss crawling up as my anger literally dissolved looking into those appealing eyes. 

“What the fuck do we need to talk about?” I asked, trying to sound confident and disinterested. I was everything but. 

He looked momentarily stunned at my response, we had never really talked to each other like this.

“Dude. Just let me take you home and we can talk.” His eyes bore into me, but the usual kindness was still there. He looked ultimately perplexed.

“I don’t think so man. I think you’ve made this all perfectly clear since Christmas.” I said sharply, making myself stare right at him, even though it hurt. 

He winced, and took a step back before he continued. 

“Lyle, if you can please just get in the truck, we can talk about, er, well we can talk about stuff okay? Just come on, I swear I’m not going to do anything to you.” He continued. I couldn’t decipher his face, it looked sad maybe, but definitely persistent, like he was holding it all in. His breath was slow, but his body was tense. He seemed as nervous as I was. 

Do anything to me? I wondered. I didn’t know if he meant violence or something else, and my mind was reeling. I wavered, and as I did so I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my bus was pulling away. Fuck, I thought, well I guess that answers that. 

“Fine, I fucking missed my bus anyway,” I stated begrudgingly, walking past him towards the truck. My heart was still thumping away in my ears, and I was incredibly nervous. From the way he had looked at me that night, and the first day back at school, I still didn’t know what was going to happen. 

He seemed to take a small sigh of relief, but stayed a few paces back as we got to the truck. I got in, slamming the door behind me. The truck smelled immensely like him, and I felt like I was being swallowed by his musky manly scent. It was a mixture of sweat, deodorant, and the Tom Ford cologne he wore. I took a deep breath in and sighed, I could feel my cock thicken on its own and I cursed inwardly. 

He got in next, shutting the door and driving out of the school parking lot. We drove most of the way in silence, his eyes straight ahead and mine staring out the window. My irritation resumed by his silence, what the fuck did he want? He basically begged me to get in the car and now he wasn’t saying anything. 

The longer it went on, the more pressure I felt to say something to him. A thousand words came to mind, a hundred thousand things I wanted to say crept up, but what came out of my mouth surprised me. 

“I’m gay man. Just so you know. And no, that’s not the reason I wanted to be friends with you, but I figure it’s time that you know that,” I stated curtly. I didn’t know that’s what I was going to say, but I was happy once it came out of my mouth. He was now the first person I had told since coming to Oklahoma.

He didn’t look at me. “I know,” he said. It wasn’t in a rude or hateful way, just matter of fact. 

“You do?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow and allowing myself to look at him. 

“Yeah.”

I was taken aback, wondering if everyone else knew too and feeling stupid for not putting it out in the open to start with, I kept my eyes glued to his face, watching it carefully.

“How long have you known?” I questioned.

He sighed, glanced at me quickly, then stared back out the windshield. “Lyle, I’ve known since I first met you.” He said in a hushed tone.

“Um, okay?” I didn’t know what to say.

His face changed, and he looked perturbed and frustrated. 

“What? Yeah, I’ve always known. It never bothered me, I mean who really fucking cares who’s gay, straight, black, yellow, trans, man, women. I don’t fucking care. I never thought it really mattered what you identified as, you were just my friend.” He stated, words coming out rapid fire like he had been storing them up like a camel. “My best friend,” he continued, emphasizing the word best. 

He still wasn’t looking at me, and he was rubbing his hand over his bare knee as he drove. We were almost to my house now, pulling into the neighborhood. 

“Wha..I don’t..I mean..Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, tripping over the words. My mind was an incoherent mess of thoughts and emotions. 

“Why didn’t you?” He retorted softly.

I guess that was a fair question, one I hadn’t thought of. I thought of different ways to answer the question before I replied. 

“Honestly?” I asked.  

“Yeah. Honestly. Everything on the table.” He shrugged, making a motion with his hand.

That answers that question, I thought. “Because I was worried you wouldn’t want to be my friend, and from the moment we met dude, I loved being around you.” I stopped again, not wanting to let this get out of hand. Yeah, I definitely still loved him, but a part of me hated him too. 

“I’m sorry..” He whispered, trailing off, eyes dark. 

It was my turn to shrug with irritation. 

“Sure,” was all I could say. 

He piped up this time, turning towards me. 

“No. Lyle. Look at me! I’m fucking sorry dude. I wish I hadn’t made you feel that way, that you couldn’t tell me.” He said meaningfully, emotion coating his words. It sounded truthful, and momentarily I melted. 

“Thanks I guess.. I mean, it’s not okay, but it’s okay. It’s not like you ever really said anything besides no homo a few times, or this is gay or that is gay, which if we’re going to talk openly should seriously be something you shouldn’t say whether you have gay friends or not. But it was mostly me, what I put on myself.” I rambled, suddenly wishing I hadn’t. Why was I placating him? He was the one in the wrong. I crossed my arms and looked back out the window. 

“I.. I didn’t think of that man, really.” He offered. 

“Why would you think of it? You have the luxury of not having to think about it man.” I replied snarkily. 

He sighed deeply, his strong shoulders lifting up with his breath and back down slowly.

“Yeah.. You’re probably right. I’m still sorry. I hate that you felt like you couldn’t truly be who you were. I know I always felt like I could be myself with you, and it’s unfair that you couldn’t do that with me,” He said between breaths. 

“Could you really be your true self either though?” I challenged, without looking at him.

He grimaced. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” I said softly this time as I stared up at the ceiling of the old truck.

“Dude, we’re not talking about that.” He replied quickly, a hint or irritation in his voice. It ripped open the soft wound, and the anger reared its head again. 

“Fuck, okay sure we aren’t. What happened to everything on the table? Dude why aren’t you apologizing about the real fucking elephant in the room?” I was starting to shout now. “How about how..” I struggled, not wanting to say the wrong thing, “how after what fucking happened, you shut down and iced me out of your life. I never fucking wanted that dude, I never hit on you, I went along with you!” I yelled. 

“Dude just..” He huffed, holding an arm over his forehead, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

“Just what??”

“Just stop! Okay? I fucking get it.” He shouted, shaking his head. 

I paused at his raised voice, suddenly unsure of myself as we parked outside my house. I thought about getting out and running towards the door, but I gripped the door handle and made myself stay. We were silent a few moments longer. 

“Listen..” he started softly again, “I know I was a dick. I know it was me, and I don’t think I can give you an explanation. I don’t understand it myself man, and to be honest I don’t think I want to understand it. But,” he paused, and bit his lip, measuring what he was trying to say, “I’m not gay.”

There it was again. The phrase that had been tormenting me since that night. “I’m not gay.”

Through a grimace, it still made sense, of course he didn’t. Despite how I was feeling, I could imagine the struggle that was going on inside of him. I had assumed that whatever that was between us, he’d put it out of his mind, but it was apparent now that even though he was saying he didn’t want to understand it, inside he was desperately trying to make sense of it.

“Well that makes one of us.” I said honestly, still gripping the door handle. 

We were silent again. Once again he broke the silence.

“What I do understand is that I hurt you and I hate that I hurt you. I really meant it when I said you were my best friend, and that you are truly the most amazing guy I know. No one, and I mean no one understands me like you and honestly you're the person I’m most.. Most myself around. I hope you believe that.” He said, sounding sad, but truthful.

The way he spoke to me like that, brutally honest, an open book of feelings, endeared me to him and I hated it.

“I don’t know man,” I said,  “I did once. But this is incredibly hard for me. Why, if you mean all of that, did you treat me like the shit on your shoe after..after it happened?” I trailed off, unsure of my words. 

He sighed, looking away and running a hand over his head, pulling the beanie off and his hair poofing out. It was incredibly cute. I loved his hair, always imagining running my hands through his soft curls.

“It was wrong.. I know it was wrong, I just didn’t know how to handle it. I’m really sorry. I really am.” He said, looking down at his shorts.

“So, what now?” I asked, confused. 

“Can we go back to how we were?” He asked, looking up at me again with those pleading eyes. God help me, I wanted it too.

“I honestly don’t know, can we?” I challenged

“I want to.” 

“Me too man,” I said honestly, “I just don’t know how to be.” I added, holding back the lump in my throat. 

“Just be yourself bro, that’s what I love.” He trailed off.  Did he just say love? “You know, that's what I like about you.” He finished, a faint smile across his face. 

“I mean, I guess we can try. I did miss being your friend.” I answered softly, not allowing myself to look at his smile, but trying my best to match it. I know he said love, even if he corrected it, but again I wouldn’t let myself go there, the pain was too intense.

“Honestly dude, I missed it too. That’s why I had to talk to you today, I couldn’t put it off any longer. It’s been pretty miserable the last month and a half.” He looked down again, and his tone was full of sadness, and I ached to touch him, but I wouldn’t.

“For me too.” I added. It was so quiet in the tiny truck.

“I know.”

He doesn’t know half of it, I thought before responding.

“I don’t think you do, but thank you, and thank you for apologizing. I want us to be good too.” I said. Though I really did mean it, I felt like there was so much left to say, but the conversation had already left me feeling completely drained. 

“Really?” He asked, looking back at me with a bemused meaningful expression. Look away, I thought.

“Yeah man. And.. I’m sorry too. You know, for letting it happen wh..” He cut me off. 

“All good man,” He said,  "we don't need to talk about that.” He finished flatly. Of course, I thought. Shouldn’t have even opened that door. 

“Okay.” I added, already the doubts about how this friendship could go forward flooding my brain. He broke my thoughts when he spoke again.

“But, just to be clear, I’m also sorry for the way I.. the way I acted.. Er, um and what I said, I mean how I..” He trailed off, shaking his head. 

I knew what he was talking about.

“It’s fine. I mean it took me by surprise but it wasn’t like I wasn’t into it..” He cut me off again.

“Okay cool.” He said, nodding his head once in an expression that read, we’re done talking about that part. 

I didn’t say anything else, and I began opening the door.

“So, you wanna hang out tomorrow after school? I’ve got wrestling practice tonight.” He asked. I looked back at him and I could tell he really wanted to. Again, I doubted this could work, but I had to try. I knew I couldn’t deny him, and I had said that we would give it a shot. 

“Yeah man, sure.” I offered.

“Bet.” He said, half smiling. 

I opened the door, shuffling my feet out of the cab and grabbing my backpack when he grabbed my thigh. It was soft and his hand was warm, as if he were touching right through the fabric and grabbing onto my bare skin. I was frozen, looking at the hand. He froze too and neither one of us spoke before he let go.

“Um, I was just wanting to say, I’m glad you told me you were, you know, that you came out. But just for now, for a little while, can you continue keeping that to yourself at school?” He asked sheepishly, faced flushed with embarrassment. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was ashamed that he asked me or if it was the touch. 

I don’t know why it didn’t make me angry, at least in that moment, it should have made me furious. After all of this, and after what he said about wanting me to be myself, he was taking that back and asking me to continue keeping it a secret for whatever the reason. Probably because he was worried with what happened, that something could come out. 

Yes, I should have been angry, but for whatever reason I wasn’t. I felt pity, and through all of what had happened between us, I still found myself wanting to make him happy, wanting to give in to everything he said. I found myself wanting to protect him, and if that meant keeping it to myself awhile longer, I would do that. 

“Yeah.” I said, “I guess that’s fine. No problem.”

He smiled again, more warmly but still hesitantly, and I could swear I could feel shame emanating from him. 

“Thank you man.” He sighed relievingly.

“We’re good.” I stated, as I lept the rest of the way out of the truck and walked to my door. 

*****

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting to happen after our conversation in Blaine’s truck. In truth, I didn’t know how we would ever go back to our original friendship. I knew that in those first few days following the incident, I thought that maybe we could. The love I had for him, outweighing what deep down I knew was probably broken. 

But now, after a month of being ignored and freezed out, and our heated discussion in his truck, I almost couldn’t imagine a friendship between the two of us. It was obvious, at least from what he said, that he wanted it to resume. Of course, I loved the boy, and I still ached to be around him, but it was different this time. I didn’t know if just friends was enough, or if it ever could be again. 

Still, I had told him we could try and I was going to, for my part. If he didn’t live up to his end of the bargain and if I couldn’t keep my feelings at bay, then it would fail and I would have to accept that. The gnawing pain in my chest ached at that thought, the anger that had fueled me in January to stay away from him, wanting to stay away from him even, now gone. I didn’t know what life would look like. 

He had stayed persistent though, and the day following our conversation he hit me up to hang out. I assumed right, and it had been a somewhat awkward affair, neither one of us really knowing what to do, and we had sat around and talked trivially for an hour or so before one of us made an excuse to leave. From that experience I thought that surely, it was going to end. 

But, it didn’t. I don’t know if it was more him, or more me, but it was as if our friendship was in rehab and we worked the muscle several times a week to regain its strength. After a few weeks, we had found a new tedium, a new normal as it were between us and while the friendship was different, forever changed, it had finally resumed and I found myself being grateful that it seemed to be working. 

We went back to laughing and cutting up, skating together, watching a movie or bad tv show. We still didn’t stay the night at each other's houses, neither of us bringing it up or talking about it, we just didn’t do it. 

We didn’t really talk about anything deep though, and our hang out sessions were definitely shorter than they used to be; there was still something palpable hanging in the room above us when we were together. Unspoken things that we couldn’t touch. 

It was at once wonderful to be with my friend again and to have figured out a way that we could be together, and miserable because it wasn’t the same. I still found myself depressed and melancholy for how it once was. 

I still loved him. That much, I was sure of. The feelings did not go away, and the longer we went on the stronger they grew. I was nervous that our new friendship had an expiration date on it, but I did my best not to think about it. 

It was close to Spring time, and like a metaphor for us, the ice around what had happened between Blaine and I was almost completely thawed out. Blane and Miranda had broken up recently, a fact that had helped assuage my guilt over cheating with him, while also making me feel relieved in part because I hoped his schedule would open up for more time with me. 

There was a party coming up; a bonfire in the woods near The Cove, and the who’s who of our High School were all a buzz over it. Apparently there would be lots of alcohol and party favors, the school was psyched up about it. I was not a party person, nor a person that enjoyed being in large groups of people, especially when I wasn’t friends with ninety five percent of the people going. Still, Matt and Sheridan were both going to be there, and they had been pressuring me to go. 

I received a text, a few days before the party from Blaine and it had surprised me. 

Blaine: So, you’re going to the bonfire right? 

Lyle: I hadn’t planned on it, though Matt and Sheridan want me to. Why?

Blaine: Dude! You should go! You need to be more social, ya wallflower. Lol.

Lyle: I’m social enough, thank you. I don’t see why I need to go, it’ll just be a bunch of idiots getting drunk and setting stuff on fire. Lol.

Blaine: Don’t be such a loser. Just go, we can ride together. Besides, maybe a little alcohol is what you need. You’re wound so fucking tight always. 

Lyle: Wound tight or level headed? 

Blaine: Boo. So, I’m gonna pick you up Friday, at 7. 

Lyle: Ugh. 

I knew I had lost, there was no way around it. I was going. Blaine wanted me too, and as much as it sounded like the absolute worst time, there was still no way I could resist him when he wanted me to do something. A fact I knew had gotten me into trouble in the past. I let that thought drift away before it festered. 

It was weird though, because he had never invited me to any of these things before. Usually, these were the kind of things he did with his school crowd, and I wasn’t a part of that group. However, Matt and Sheridan weren’t either and they were going to be there, so maybe he felt like there was more room for others to be a part of it and that’s why he reached out to me.

I took a deep breath and tried to prepare myself for an uncomfortable evening, hoping it wouldn’t end in disaster. 

*****

Blaine picked me up at seven on the dot, all giddy and pumped up about the evening ahead. The inside of the truck was warm, and he looked generally excited and at ease. It was nice to see that after the last few months of us both feeling a little awkward around the other. 

He was so handsome in his red hoodie and thick leather bomber jacket, his curls stuffed back under a beanie, with black joggers on. It was March, but still very cold. I assumed that the alcohol and bonfire would keep everyone warm tonight. Hopefully. 

He drove excitedly, talking about how drunk he was going to get and mentioning how he hoped he could get some ass tonight. I tried to let that comment roll off my shoulders, but it wasn’t easy. It helped that he was so buoyant about tonight, because I was still dreading it. However, maybe I could learn to loosen up a bit, at least I knew some people I could talk to. 

We pulled up in the field around a maze of cars, trucks mostly. We walked down a damp clearing through the trees, close to the stacks of hay bales and deeper into the woods where I finally noticed a gigantic head of tree limbs, working up into a frenzy of flames wafting up to the wooded ceiling above. I couldn’t help but be impressed, we certainly hadn’t had any bonfires in Chicago. 

Blaine and I separated fairly quickly, as he ran over to a group of his friends surrounding a cooler full of what I assumed were beers. I wasn’t a drinker. I had drank a few times in Chicago, but it really wasn’t my thing. However as I surveyed the group around me, I let the thought of loosening up and really trying to join the party as much as I could, seep into me. 

Quickly, I found Matt and Sheridan, sharing a log on the far side of the bonfire and I walked over to them. Sheridan held an outstretched hand with a small red solo cup. 

“Lyle!” She screamed, already buzzed from what I could tell. “Oh my God, Matt, he showed up. What are the odds!” 

I rolled my eyes as she crashed into me. Definitely drunk. 

“Well, well, well,” he mused, “he shows his face!” He proclaimed proudly, also a little tipsy.

“Lyle. Take this. Drink. Please drink with us!” Sheridan slipped the small cup into my head. I thought about asking her what it was, but suddenly, out of character, I didn’t care. Maybe this was exactly what I needed and I downed it in one gulp. 

*****

Yeah, I definitely wasn’t a drinker. In fact, I was a total lightweight. I took several shots with Matt and Sheridan at their behest, and two drinks in, I was under water. Surprisingly though, I found that I really liked it. Finally; pleasantly, I wasn’t feeling the normal anxiety, the anguish that had become a regular friend of mine the last few months. Well, really, my whole life. I was able to really let go of all those pesky ties that bound up my inhibitions with such force everyday. I felt like a part of the group, instead of a bystander. 

I was talking louder, laughing more often, and as the drinks kept pouring it seemed to me like I was becoming the life of the party. Everyone seemed more relaxed and at ease as the party droned on, including Blaine. I found that under these circumstances, drunk as he was too, we no longer cared who noticed that we were hanging out. It felt for the first time since that awful incident that our friendship was just as it once was, not the modified version we had come to accept this last month.

I bounced between Matt, Sheridan, and Blaine all night. Even joining in with Blaine and his buddies at beer pong. Everyone was shouting and high fiving when my team won out over his. 

We both laughed and clapped each other on the shoulder. He even finally introduced me around to his friends, and for once I didn’t feel shy or embarrassed as I shook their hands and joined them in another game. 

I sat down next to Sheridan, out of breath after all the beer pong, and beer chugging. Blaine and his buddies were doing handstands on the keg, and I laughed, unabashedly eyeing him as his shirt and hoodie slid down his muscular abs, that delicious happy trail pronounced. His strong thick back; his pants falling a bit too in the night, revealing the round curves of his ass and the lip of his boxers. I didn’t notice the cold anymore, my entire body felt hot. 

The desire for Blaine had never gone away, but I had tried so hard to keep it at bay, that I hadn’t really given it its head, pun intended, until now. I could mess myself just watching him. Whether it was the long denial, or the alcohol, I found myself beyond horny. I could feel my dick harden and I longed to taste him again, my mind shuddering back and forth between the present and my memories of us fucking. 

Sheridan broke my silence. 

“Lylllesssiiieee!” She whined. Apparently that was a new drunken nickname. Normally I would be repulsed, but in my current state I found it hilarious. 

She threw her arms around my neck and leaned against me. 

“Sheridannnnyyy.” I responded against her hair. 

“I’m sooooooooo happy you came. You’re so much fun.” She droned on. “I just love you so much. You’ve seen soooooo sad lately, and it makes me happy to see you like thissss.” She waxed like a typical sorority girl, her whole body feeling incredibly heavy on mine despite her small body.

I smiled. “Oh my god, I love you tooooooo.” I couldn’t believe I sounded so weird, and this kind of talk wasn’t me, but I let it go. Who really cares right now anyway, I thought. 

“You’re like, one of my beessssst fraaands.” She slurred and looked up at me. 

“Bruuuuuuuuhhhh,” I exclaimed. “Sameeee.” We both laughed and I felt so totally at ease. It surprised me, all of a sudden, how intensely I felt companionship with her at this moment. Not just with her, but Matt too, and after all this time, Blaine as well. I loved it. I reveled in it. I could feel my tongue loosening. 

“Sheridan. I want to tell you something. I have to tell you right now!” I said urgently.

“Omigod, tellll meeee.” She said, drinking from a cup that I realized might not even be hers. 

“I’m gay. I’ve literally told no one here yet, but like I’m totally gay. Fucking homosexual. Strictly dickly. I don’t know why I haven’t told anyone yet, especially not you and Matt. I mean you’re like my best friends and I haven’t told you. I’m so sorry!” I pleaded. 

She got misty eyed, obviously a product of the alcohol and pulled me in tightly. 

“Honeyyyyy!” She exclaimed. “Matt and I know. We’ve like always known but I’m soooooo happy you told me. Yay! Now we can go shopping and talk about boys! Fucking finally!” She looked ecstatic. 

Under normal circumstances, that comment would have irritated and frustrated me to an abnormal level. It bothered me deeply how people, even accepting people, often reacted to people coming out. Assuming that all gay men wanted to do was to go shopping and talk about boys; that all lesbians wanted to rent U-Hauls, get short haircuts, and attend monster truck rallies. It was a stereotype and typical, but nonetheless rude. Tonight though, I didn’t care much. I was just happy to finally be talking to someone about it. 

Ruefully, somewhere in the back of my head, I felt like there was a reason I shouldn’t be telling her. Some promise or agreement I made that should have prevented this, but for now it wasn’t registering and I was awash in the joy of finally being honest. 

I had to pee. I had to pee more than I ever felt I had to in my entire life, and the feeling came on me so suddenly, I jerked upright. I wobbled out of the bonfire site, tripping a few times and chuckling to myself. The buoyancy from the alcohol had all but erased my melancholy attitude over however long it had been. 

I ventured further out, still being self conscious enough that I didn’t want people to see what I was doing. Further down the trail and into a small embankment, I huddled up to a tree, ready to unleash the torrent of piss building up. 

I heard something move behind me and as I glanced back, I noticed Blaine following me. He was also beyond clumsy, and it made me laugh. He noticed me then. 

“Bestie!” He yelled out, laughing again and dragging a hand over his face. 

“Bestie!” I called back, chuckling. It wasn’t a nickname we had ever used, but with us both so intoxicated it seemed endearing to me. 

“You pissing too? I’m about to die here,” He said, pulling up close to me. Too close, but that wasn’t really registering in the moment. 

Dude, I’ve never had to pee so bad in my life.” I quipped, but I still hadn’t undone my pants yet. I was watching him, a little uncertainty creeping in. 

Blaine seemed completely undeterred, leaning his head back as he wiped his dick out of his joggers and unleashed. I let my eyes wander for a moment, seeing his dick again for the first time. It wasn’t hard, but I couldn’t look away. I flashed back to the last time I had seen it, and instead of shying away from the memory like I always did, I let myself live it once again. 

I finally pulled mine out as well, moaning out loud as I pissed against the tree. It was half hard from the memory, but I didn’t care. 

We stood like that for a moment before he called out. 

“Watch out!”

I looked over and he had aimed himself at me, still peeing. 

“Oh hell no!” I admonished, and ducked out of the way before catching myself, aiming back at him. It was literally a pissing contest. 

We were laughing and dancing around, both trying to get the others piss all over each other. We darted back and forth until we were both empty, and slammed into each other as we cracked up, out of breath. 

I paused when I noticed Blaine crouching slightly, a smile on his face. I knew what was coming; it was like in the past, I knew he was about to try and tackle me, to take me down. 

“Okay, come on big boy.” I taunted, crouching myself playfully. I knew how it was going to end, but I’d play along. 

We sized each other up, clumsily making a circle before he made his move. He pounced, grabbing at my leg and swiftly taking me to the ground, one arm holding my head in a lock. I had completely failed, as usual against the attack and he had me pinned almost instantly against his warm body. 

“Gotcha again,” He muttered proudly, I could feel him smiling and we both laughed. 

I hadn’t realized until then that he was sitting on my chest now, arms pinned underneath his knees. Our laughter drifted off as I looked up into his eyes. His features were soft, not harmful or scowling. He looked childlike as he looked down on me in amazement. His smile faded and he was suddenly serious, a mixture of confusion and.. Longing?

I wasn’t sure what he was thinking but my own thoughts were suddenly screaming in my ears. What is this about? What is he thinking? What’s going to happen? 

I was unashamedly turned on at this moment. Instantly hard, and I knew he must have felt it as my dick pressed annoyingly against his body. He was still just looking at me though, his breathing becoming more settled. My eyes traced his boyish features. The piercing blue of his eyes, the sharpness of his jaw, the beautiful subtle softness of his lips. At that moment, I wanted nothing more in the world than to feel his lips on mine. 

For a few seconds more he looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time. Like he recognized me, as if he hadn’t before. 

His body slowly drew down towards mine, face getting closer while his hands crept from where they were holding my forearms and intertwined with my fingers. A second more, and his eyes softly shut, his lips quietly touching mine for the first time. 

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, but besides that it was sweet, my nose was enveloped in his sweet musky aroma. Fireworks lit up across my entire body. They started in my mouth, at the precise place where our lips met, and worked their way across my face, down my throat, to the tips of my fingers and toes. I felt my heart beating erratically; it warmed to a heat furnace before it exploded. My dick was thumping uncontrollably in my pants.

The love I had fought so hard to keep buried, the feelings, thoughts, and desires I had kept disguised all came out at once. They broke through every barrier in my body in a flurry, so incoherent at once that I was stunned, weightless.

His lips were incredibly soft, and they formed over mine perfectly. I kissed him back, both of us moaning into the other's mouth. It wasn’t just me, it couldn’t be. It felt like we’d both been waiting for this for a long time. The kissing was soft at first, our mouths meeting and departing, then meeting again with intensity. I let my tongue out slowly, letting it trace the fascinating contours of his lips, and he parted them instantly, letting me in. Our tongues danced like fire, darting in, meeting each other, swirling around in one another's mouths desperately. The breathing intensified, our heads slowly turning to one side, then the other trying to explore as much as we could. 

His hands still held me down, but our fingers were entwined, holding onto each other intensely like we were afraid to let go. The kiss was passionate, I couldn’t deny that as we made out like animals desperate to eat one another. Pieces fit into place, the feelings I had for him were not unrequited, they couldn’t be. The way his hands felt in mine, the softness of his lips as they caressed my own and the urgency I felt as we kissed couldn’t be just hormones. I hoped they weren’t. 

Finally his hands let go of mine, and I took the opportunity to allow mine to venture onto his strong thick thighs, caressing the vastness of them, creeping up until I could feel his incredibly hard cock through his pants, a wet spot of pre cum had formed in the center and inside I smiled broadly.

He moaned softly when I touched him, and the kissing became even more urgent. I wanted to feel all of him, everywhere all at once. I wanted him inside of me. His hands moved too. One up under my neck, holding my head in it tenderly, while the other grasped onto mine, jerking his dick with me over his pants. I wanted more. 

I moved slightly, pushing into him as we toppled over with me on top, over the thick wet grass. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew we could be caught, but I didn’t care. I was going to hold on to this moment for as long as I could. A sad thought tried to creep its way in, thinking that this could again cause irreparable harm to us, and that again the onslaught of depression would destroy me, but I slapped it out of my head. 

I wanted this. He wanted this. That was all that mattered right now. 

Once firmly on the ground, me on top of him, I looked at him again. His face was all desire, faintly dazed, but he had a slight smile on his lips. His hands had gripped my hips, and he ground against me with his cock. I smiled too and moved my ass to meet his grinding, moaning slightly. 

I couldn’t stay here forever though, and I slowly scaled his body as I moved downward. I wanted to strip his clothes off and worship his beautifully chiseled body with my tongue, but I quickly thought better of it. If for some reason we were caught, I’d rather we both not be completely naked and have some time to try and act innocent. 

He had moved his hands again as I traced down his body, stopping quickly to lift his shirt slightly and softly kiss his abs, letting my tongue lightly circle his belly button where that tempting happy trail always taunted me. It tickled him slightly and he laughed quickly, but he never took his eyes off of me. His hands were in my hair now, exploring how it felt in his hands. I didn’t waste anymore time though, as I grabbed onto the lip of his pants he lifted up, allowing them to slide down. 

His cock bounced up, released from its fettered confines. It nearly hit my face, and I was disappointed that it didn’t. I admired it again for a moment. It was so beautiful, manly. His medium thick, veiny pumping eight inch cock was perfect. My hand enveloped it; it was so soft. The thin skin around it felt like satin in my hand. I smiled at him wickedly, as I lightly thumped it against my face. His eyes burned with desire and I knew what he wanted. I didn’t want to waste time, but I didn’t want to rush either. I buried my nose in his trimmed pubes and relished the scent, before I unleashed my tongue and scraped it along the length, all the way to the missile shaped head at the top. 

I twirled my tongue around it a few times, tasting the salty sweetness of his precum. He moaned again, a little louder. 

“Put it in your mouth,” he said gently, and held onto my hair with a little more intensity. I loved it, eyeing him again lustily. 

I followed his orders though, and carefully devoured the entire length, holding it down my throat for a few seconds, before coming back up. The alcohol must have relaxed my throat, because I wasn’t having any trouble with gag reflex. I relished that thought. 

“Fuck,” He called out through gritted teeth. I beamed, and went back to work.

I kept up the routine, sliding all the way down with my mouth, holding and coming back up for air. His cock was slick with spit as I changed things up. I would go down a few inches, suck on it, pulsing my mouth around it and come back up. I would circle the head again a few times, stroking the length with the entirety of my hand and then deep throat it again, choking a bit for effect rather than because I had too. 

Blaine was awash in pleasure. He would moan and close his eyes, all the while clutching his hands in my hair and guiding my head down and back up, but he let me be in control this time. 

“You’re so fucking good at this,” He muttered breathlessly between moans. It was music to my ears, but I didn’t reply.

I picked up the pace a little, sucking fervently, hearing the sloppy sounds of my mouth over his cock. I reached down and allowed myself to gently rub my own cock through my jeans.

“Fuck yes, I fucking love that.” He exclaimed, smiling. 

I paused then, my mouth a few millimeters over the head of his dick, looking at him as I winked. He seemed to know what I meant and he grabbed onto my head harder this time, and bucked his hips up into my mouth. His entire length slammed into the back of my throat and I groaned with pleasure. I felt him bounce in and out of my mouth faster, causing spit to drip out of the sides of my mouth and down into his pubes. 

I loved every second of the throating torture as his breathing became more heavy and he slammed in again, holding it there, hips lifted off the ground. I tried keeping it down as long as possible, not wanting to let it go, before my throat and lungs gave out and he let his cock slip out with a pop. 

He was the one that moved this time. Slowly, calculatingly, he sat up. For a moment I was worried it was over, that he had changed his mind, but that wasn’t the case. 

“Here, lay on your back,” He said, crawling up where I was and gently touching my back and sides, guiding me to the ground. He smirked as he copied what I had done, pulling my pants down all the way to my shoes. Could he actually be going to suck my dick this time? I thought incredulously. 

He didn’t though, and I wasn’t that let down. As far as sexual things go, I could do with or without getting head. Just a preference. 

He had sat on his knees, slowly jerking his cock looking down at me like he was a little unsure. I couldn’t tell about what until he shot his hands under my ass and pulled me up to face level. I was almost completely upside down, looking up at my dick glistening over me. What in the world was..

I lost my breath when I noticed his eyes over my thighs and his face lowered to my ass. No way. 

He paused momentarily where he was, eyebrows cocked questioningly, before his lips touched my hole. It was fireworks all over again, partially out of disbelief but mostly from pleasure. His tongue felt hot and wet as it lightly darted across my hole. I could feel him breathing in deeply through his nose, like he actually liked the scent and then both arms closed around my legs, pulling them into him tightly. 

He groaned as more of his tongue buried into my hole. He lapped at it desperately, pausing to rub his nose and entire face into my taint. His tongue was magic as it tortured my ass with pleasure. My eyes had rolled into the back of my head and intelligible obscenities fell out of my mouth. I could feel him smiling against my ass, knowing that I loved what he was doing seemed to make him only lick at it harder. 

I relaxed my ass a bit then, allowing more of it to open for him and he greedily dug his tongue in even further. I wasn’t sure how long he had his face in my ass, ferociously eating at me, but he finally reluctantly lowered my ass back to the ground, his mouth and face wet with spit. His face was red looking delirious. 

“You taste so..so good.” He stated, almost unsure of himself. I smiled at him, not knowing what I should say. 

“I hope so,” was all that came out and he chuckled. 

He put both arms under me again, and quickly, effortlessly lifted me onto a nearby log. It was uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. I knew where he was going and I was all for it. He eyed me the entire time. His face wasn’t cold this time, it wasn’t ashamed. He was present and he was watching me like he was afraid I would tell him to stop. 

He broke the stare, looking down at his cock and let several long drops of spit fall onto it, and a few more into his hand as he globbed up my hole. He lined the head up against it, sliding the head over the spit lubed hole a few times, circling it. 

I spoke up this time. 

“Slowly. Please.” I said, disgusted by what sounded like a pathetic plea to me. I didn’t want him to have to go slowly, but I needed it this time. 

He looked at me only briefly. 

“I know.” He whispered, he sounded momentarily sad. “Sorry.”

I didn’t have time to respond though, because in the next second, he had slid just the head past the breach of the tight ring of my hole. I yelped slightly as it burned, stinging. But Blaine held it there, pausing. I noticed my eyes were closed and I peaked at him. Even with his clothes still on, his body looked amazing. Tight. Primal. I let myself get used to the intruder a second longer and I nodded. 

He went in a little further, pausing again to let me get used to it. It still hurt, but it was less now, my hole instinctively trying to push out, but instead relaxing around the solid girth of him. I nodded again and let out a contended sigh. 

Blaine forced more in, almost all of it, and this time my cock jumped. He had grazed my prostate, and I felt overwhelming pleasure hit my body like freight train. 

“Ohhh fuck.” I let out, smiling. I looked back at him and he was grinning. 

“Mmm,” was all he said. He had my ankles held tightly in his hand, and he shoved the rest in, bottoming out inside of me. I moaned gratefully, my ass almost completely relaxed now. 

He took the hint, exiting my hole just a bit, before shoving it back in easily. We both groaned in excitement. He kept that up slowly, coming out before shoving it back in. I was used to it now, and again, I wanted more. 

“Fuck me,” I pleaded, one arm behind my head. 

He didn’t wait for more, raising his body back a bit, holding tighter to my legs, before he started pummeling me. It wasn’t with the same angry intensity as that first time, more deliberate now, like he cared how it felt for me. 

He rolled his hips around as he thrust, opening up my insides more each time he bottomed out. We were moaning together as his rhythm picked up pace. You could hear our bodies as they slammed into each other. I wanted to watch him, it was a glorious sight, but the desire my body was filled with was overwhelming. He had found my sweet spot, and he was giving it all that he had.

He stopped rotating his hips, and barreled down on me now. He had let go of my ankles, and it took me a moment to realize his face was coming towards mine again. I opened my mouth and his tongue slid back in with burning desire. It was almost desperate the way it invaded my mouth, massaging my tongue. He sucked on my tongue with his mouth and I gave in unabated, loving the taste of him, the feel of his hard powerful body pressing into mine. 

He broke the kiss and pressed his now sweaty forehead against mine. He was demolishing my ass now. His hips were smashing into me, and his cock bore down into my hole. It hit my spot over and over, and my mouth hung open as wild sounds came out of it. I bit my lip to hold back the screams. 

He was ravaging my hole, I could feel his flexed, strained biceps against my arms. I willed my hands to unclasp from each other and slid them over his arms. I took the opportunity for however long it lasted to finally touch him. To finally feel what I had been wanting to feel. His body was moist with sweat, and every muscle and sinew felt hard like marble underneath his skin. I let my hands wander over his shoulders, over his powerful back muscles and then to rest in those beautiful blond curls. My fingers twisted in them. 

His forehead was still firmly pressed against mine, our breath was that of a steam engine as he thrust in and out. My ass felt numb now, the spot he was railing into was all I could feel. Everytime he hit it, a spark flew across my body that threatened to throw me off the log. I could feel where the bark was cutting into my back, but I didn’t care. I wanted more. 

My fingers were still in his hair as I wrapped my legs around his waist, pushing his ass into me harder. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Blaine. Harder.” I pleaded. 

“Fuck yeah? You feel so fucking good. Fuck yeah.” He replied breathlessly. 

“Yes, fuck yes!” I yelled. “Fucking give it to me. Please” Smack. “Please.” Smack. “Please!” I begged. 

“Fuuuuuuck” His breath was ragged. “You’re so fucking good.” He exclaimed as he drove in harder. He was giving me what I wanted in more ways than one. 

He ravaged me then. He pulled his body away from me, threw off his shirt and hoodie in one movement, pushed down on my inner thighs with his hands, and rabbit fucked me. His body moved impossibly fast, pile driving my hole with everything he had. 

There were no sounds coming out of my mouth at this point, my body shook against the hard surface I was on, the smacking of his hips to my ass and his ragged breathing the only thing I could hear. It was nirvana, literal nirvana.

After several minutes of this, I couldn’t believe he was still going, but his head drew back, his eyes closed, every muscle in his neck, his chest and abs were covered in sweat and I could see he was ready to cum. He was holding onto his lip so tightly with his teeth I worried he would cut into them. 

“I’m fucking going to cum!” He barely got out. It was music to my ears, the sight in front of me the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Everything about him was so primal, I couldn’t believe it. I could have cum at any moment over the entire time he was fucking me, but I had intentionally not touched my own cock. 

“Me too,” I replied. I went to grab onto my dick, but he beat me to it. He wrapped his large hand around it and began jerking it to the rhythm he was fucking me. I was immediately overcome. 

He looked at me for just a second, our eyes meeting. 

“Cum with me.” He begged. “Fucking cum with me!”

A few breaths later, and we both went over the edge. His entire body tensed, and slowed, and the driving of his cock into my ass became erratic. 

“Oh..ohh fuhhh.. Ohhh fuhhhhhhhhhccccccckkkkk!” He gritted out gutterly, and as he drove in once more, he exploded and shook violently. I could feel him empty his cum deep inside of me. His hand had gone crazy on mine, but I had made myself wait until the best moment, until my cock exploded. I don’t know where all my cum landed but it flew over my head, onto my hair, down his hand and then into the crook of my neck.

I cried out words I didn’t know as our bodies spasmed out, breaths coming out our mouths in gusts. 

It took a few seconds before he slowly let his cock slide out of my hole, and while I wasn’t sure because of the numbness, I could have sworn that his cum leaked out of my hole and hit the grass below. I unlocked my legs from around his waist as he collapsed on top of me. We were both still breathing hard, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. My mind was still flush with thoughts and ecstasy. I hoped to keep away the shaky future consequences of our actions for as long as possible. 

I noticed then that Blaine was shivering. No, not shivering, shaking. It was only then I realized he was sobbing.