My name is Nicholas—or just Nick. I’m 21, a junior studying music at university. In late freshman year, some of my buddies in music class started a rock band and invited me to be the drummer. Normally, I would’ve said no, but Andrew—the bassist— and I were tight, and he talked me into it.
We’ve built a small following over the years. Nothing huge, but we gig weekly at local bars and house parties, and make some good side cash. Plenty of girls swoon over us. We’re all quite attractive— not to be cocky— so that helps.
Raunchy rock music filled the basement, as we were rehearsing a new song our singer, David, had written. Fresh off vacation, I was a bit rusty on the drums.
“Nick, you’re dragging,” Andrew said, frustration creasing his brows.
“Am I?” I asked, “Sorry, I’m still a bit rusty.” I kept my eyes on him, “but in my defense, you’re fucking up some of your riffs, and it's throwing me off.”
Andrew rolled his eyes, puffing out his chest. “No, the fuck, I am not. Stop blaming your shit on me.”
“Jeez, what's with the temper?” Lucas, our keyboardist, cut in.
Andrew glanced around, deflating with a sigh, “Sorry, man, I’m just a little on the edge right now.”
Connor, our guitarist, stood up and clapped Andrew on the shoulder, “Are you alright, man? If something’s going on, we can just cancel our gig. No big deal.”
“We can’t cancel it,” David snapped in. “My girlfriends gonna be at the party and I wrote this song about her!”
We all chuckled. “You fuckin’ pimp,” Andrew laughed. “You wrote a song for a girl you’ve been dating for—what, three weeks?”
“Come on, let's just focus on rehearsing.” Grabbing my drumsticks, nodding everyone back in.
I counted the beat under my breath. Andrew leaned in close, his fingers working the bass strings, and flashed a warm grin.
“Much better.” He whispered, easing back into the music.
I grinned back at him, my cheeks slightly blushing.
We nailed the song and played it—plus our usual set list— at a college buddy’s house party the next night. Usual compliments waved in, and David even got some filthy looks from his girl in the crowd. After gigs like this, we always stuck around to party. And tonight was no different.
Andrew was swarmed by a group of girls the second we stepped off the stage. I couldn’t blame them; he’s a good-looking man, and he takes care of himself. Though a part of me felt annoyed for him, just back off, he has a girlfriend. I wonder how she would feel if she saw this?
I spotted some friends at this party, so I ditched the band to hang with them. They had some cheap shit, so I didn’t really drink much, though all my friends got extremely wasted.
Not sure if it was the loud music, the cheap beer, or whatever, but throughout the party, I got a strong-ass headache. I hunted around for a quiet place where I could rest my head and found a bedroom upstairs. The host said bedrooms were off-limits, but I slipped in, softly shutting the door behind me.
I sank, my head between my knees, breathing slowly. I sat for a minute, trying to get myself together; however, the sound of sloppy kissing snapped me back into reality.
My eyes drifted towards the bed in the corner—some shirtless guy and a girl making out. Squinting through the dim light, I focused on them. The guy had scruffy black stubble, and a short black mod-cut… fuckin’ Andrew.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. For some reason, my eyes fixated on his body. He was jacked. He’d always wear baggy clothes that hid his physique, so this was a shock to me. My gaze focused on the way his massive biceps massaged her boobs, as his veins popped out of his sweat-slicked muscles. My eyes focused on his pecs from the side, which had a light coating of black hair leading to his abs, and pink nipples poking out the sides. I should’ve looked away. I'm not gay.
Then it clicked: he was cheating on his girlfriend, Serena.
I shot up. “Andrew, what the fuck are you doing?”
Panic flashed across his face. He broke the kiss, scrambling, giving me a full view of his body. Carved traps, six-pack abs, and a happy trail vanishing into his jeans.
“Nick, I- Don’t tell Serena. She’ll kill me,’ he yanked his shirt back on. “I’m sorry. This girl was just… so hot. She persuaded me.” The girl lounged back, with a contemptuous smug look on her face.
“Jesus Christ, man. What is wrong with you?” My heart raced— not only from anger, but also from the way my body reacted to it. I’m straight, I’ve only ever been attracted to girls, but this was different. I’m not actually attracted to him. I was just shocked, right?
Andrew climbed off the bed and grabbed my hands. “You won’t tell Serena, right? Please, bro. I know I fucked up, but there’s already so much shit in my life,” he pleaded. His deep brown eyes locked into mine— he looked vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen from the cocky and confident Andrew.
“Dude, I promise I won’t. Just-” I stumbled on my words. This wasn’t Andrew, who turned down every flirt at parties. I walked out, left the party, sat in my car until the headache eased, then drove home.
I struggled to sleep; my mind was so focused on Andrew. I couldn’t stop thinking about his body. Am I gay? Why can’t I stop?
Andrew ghosted the next two rehearsals. No texts, no calls. Then he showed up wasted and furious.
“Fuck you, Nick!” He charged, punching me in the nose.
“What the hell?!” Blood dripped down.
He shouted in my face, “You know what the hell! You swore you wouldn’t tell Serena.” He pushed me, while our bandmates watched.
“I didn’t!”
“Well, somebody fuckin’ did, and it was just you in the room.” He raised his fists again.
“I swear, man. Maybe it was the girl. Maybe someone overheard. But it wasn’t me.”
He dropped his hands, collapsed to his knees, sobbing. I knelt, hand on his shoulder. Connor mouthed, What did he do?
“Serena dumped me! Nick, what is wrong with me?” Tears and snot filled his face.
I met his eyes, “Sorry, man, I won’t make excuses for you, but at least you know what you did was fucked up.” I got up and walked towards my bandmates.
David whispered to me, “What happened?”
I glanced at Andrew, “he was making out with some girl at that party last Sunday.”
Lucas frowned, “Really? That doesn’t sound like Andrew at all. Why would he do that?”
“No clue”
Andrew wiped his face and staggered up. “I can hear you assholes.” He grabbed his bass. “Let’s just practice. I don’t want this bullshit right now.”
We played, but he kept messing up, getting angrier each time.
It was hard for me to focus as well. Anytime I looked in his direction, I couldn’t get my mind off what I saw during that party. His perfectly toned body, and the look of his biceps flexing as he caressed her. Stop. He’s your friend. This is gross.
During a break, Connor patted Andrew’s back. “We can stop if you’re struggling. Music isn’t worth your headspace.”
“Shit, I’m fine, I want to practice.” Andrew sighed, his voice cracking. “Do I sound that bad?”
“You’re good. I was just checking up on you.” Connor lied smoothly, and it worked. Andrew steadied after that.
The rest of the rehearsal was a haze to me. Anytime my gaze passed Andrew, my chest tensed up. I think he noticed. When I looked towards him, he’d look away and focus on his fingers strumming the strings. I’m not sure if it was out of shame, or he could tell I was staring.
Our next gig was the following weekend. We were performing at a local bar. There was a surprisingly good turnout, and the crowd was very energetic. As usual, after we performed, we had drinks. I didn’t know anybody, so I stuck with the band. Andrew was MIA, though.
This bar didn’t have cheap shit like that party. I got hammered fast. Lucas—our sober driver—kept us from disaster, but without Andrew starting the stupid shit, the vibes felt off.
After more rounds and girl-talk with Connor and David, I hit the bathroom. There was a Long trough urinal. I took the corner and unzipped.
The door slammed open, and Andrew stumbled in. “‘Sup Nick.” He stood right next to me and unzipped his jeans.
“Hey Nick,” he slurred, his voice low, “you- you didn’t actually tell Serena, right?”
He glanced at me, unsteady on his feet. “You can be honest with me, I’m not mad anymore.”
I shook my head, “I didn’t say a word. Bro code”
He leaned—his arm brushing mine. “Shit, sorry. Cool if I’m this close?” He gripped himself and started doing his business.
I didn’t say a word and looked at the wall. I noticed his dick through the corner of my eye. He was uncut. It looked to be like 8 and a half inches, had a clear vein running down the middle, and the base rested upon black hair. I realized I was just checking out my bandmate's dick, and gazed away, “It’s fine.”
He caught me. “Bro, were you looking at my dick?”
“The fuck—no! Damn, I know you’re cocky, but not everybody is checking you out.” That was a lie. I was checking him out.
He laughed low, “That's kinda on me for standing so close to you. You got a nice one too.” his hand clapped my shoulder. The warmth of his body and his compliment sent shivers down my body.
“Dude, what?”
“Can’t compliment a friend?” My cheeks started flushing. “Are you blushing? You fuckin’ gay?”
I felt offended, “What? Fuck no! Just… embarrassing when a man compliments your dick out of nowhere.” In truth, I didn’t even know anymore. I’m not sure if I’m attracted to Andrew, or if my body is just desperate after not having a girlfriend since I was in high school.
“If you are, it’s cool.”
“I’m not.”
I zipped and stepped back, clearing my throat. “Where have you been all night? The vibes been off without you.”
He stepped back from the urinal, still unzipped, “I’ve been in the band's van, drinking and crying,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. I had a better view of his dick now, and that thing was impressive. I fought staring at it, and he tucked it away just in time.
He smacked my back, “I’m feeling better now. I’ll join the guys.” He stared me deep in the eyes for a second, as if he was trying to read me, then washed his hands and walked out of the bathroom. I felt confused, at him and at myself.
As the night went on, he got more and more wasted. Lucas drove us home. Dropped Conner and David off, then Andrew.
“Dude, my parents locked me out,” he groaned, opening the door to the van. Can I crash at your place, Nick?”
“That’s fine.”
Lucas pulled up into the driveway of my apartment. Andrew emotionally thanked Lucas for the ride. “Lucas, you know… you’re the backbone of the band. I don’t know where we would be without your rides. God bless you, man, I just love you.” He was wasted.
I led him inside, and he collapsed on the couch. I changed into my underwear in my room and crashed.
As I was sleeping, I kept thinking of Andrew: his muscular body, his perfectly defined V-line, that uncut cock.
I woke up to a boner. I tried to brush it off, but it was stubborn and wouldn’t go down. I got annoyed by it, and snuck into the bathroom.
I sat on the toilet and pulled my underwear down, revealing my erect dick. I was 7 inches hard. I pulled out my phone and played some straight porn, and began sliding my hand up and down my dick, but it wasn’t doing anything for me. I wasn’t feeling it; I could only think about Andrew. On a new tab, I googled, “Am I gay?” I hoped to find answers to my question, but nothing helped.
In a moment of desperation, I opened Andrew's Instagram page and pulled up his selfies. Jesus, I didn’t realize how handsome he was. I always knew we were all attractive, but he was extra attractive; no wonder girls always swooned over him. I jerked my dick off to pictures of his face. Shit, I’m not gay. He’s just a hot guy; anyone would do the same.
My hand slid up and down my cock, and precum oozed out the tip. I groaned in pleasure, covering my mouth so Andrew wouldn’t hear. I slicked the precum around my shaft, and stepped up the pace of my hand sliding up and down.
More precum kept oozing out. The more I scrolled through his Instagram page, the faster I jerked off. I was so close to nutting— then Andrew knocked on the door.
“Dude, are you jerking off? You fuckin’ horndog.” He snickered.
I guess I wasn’t being quiet enough. “Shit, I’m sorry, I woke up with a random boner,” I gave up trying to hide it.
“Haha, it’s all good, man, I’ve been there.” He left. And collapsed on the couch.
I began jerking off again, and it didn’t take me long for me to start shooting ropes. “FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” I moaned out in pleasure. One rope shot me in the face, and dripped down to my chest.
I heard Andrew wake up and shout from the couch, “God damn, you really needed that, didn’t you?”
I sat there on the toilet, processing what just happened, until it finally snapped to me that I just jerked off— and nutted— to my best friend, while he was asleep in the other room. The post-nut-clarity hit me hard, and I immediately felt a sense of shame. I cleaned up the cum, and went back to bed.
The morning light sliced through the blinds onto my face, waking me up. I groggily got up, still a bit hungover, and confused from last night. The shame was still hitting me hard, but I tried to scratch it off. I threw on a ratty band tee and went to my kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Andrew was still slumped over on my couch, just wearing a pair of my sweatpants. I never told him he could wear those—but I was too drowsy to even care. He was lying on his back, shirtless. One of his arms was flung over his face, and his other was swinging off the couch. His chest rose and fell slowly as he snored. I stared, but dropped my gaze in fear of him waking up.
I made my cup of coffee and began doing homework on the kitchen island. I heard Andrew groan, pulling his arm off his eyes, “Mornin’,” he said, with a slight twang.
“Mornin’, Andrew. You good?” I asked, focusing on my homework.
He chuckled roughly and pushed himself up, groaning. “I feel like shit.” He stretched his arms and yawned, forcing himself up from the couch into the kitchen. He walked behind me and patted me on the back.
“Go take a shower, you smell like beer.” I joked.
He laughed, “and you smell like cum,” I looked up at him, “you know I heard you last night, you fuckin’ horndog.”
I sighed and looked down at my lap, “I know. You made it obvious you heard me.”
He teased me, “You have company over, and you can’t resist jerking off?” He slapped me on the back and grabbed a cup of coffee, drowning it in sugar. I stared at his muscular back, flexing with every movement he made, but quickly looked away when he noticed.
I sat in silence for a moment. He leaned against the island and scrolled on his phone, as I continued to focus on my homework. I kept glancing towards him and looking away when he looked back. The silence got loud, but I liked it. Andrew, however, was visibly getting awkward and tried to force some small talk, “So… Do we have rehearsal today?” He asked
I sighed and gazed at him, “It’s Monday, we never have rehearsals on Monday. Don’t you have class today?”
“Man fuck it, I’m gonna skip class today.” He chuckled miserably. “So, Nick,” he took a sip of coffee, “what’s been up with you lately?” He questioned.
I looked up from my laptop towards him, “What?”
“It’s just that anytime I’ve talked to you, since you caught me with that girl, you’ve just been staring at me weirdly,” he said out loud. “And anytime I notice, you look away like I caught you, what's the problem? Do you not like me for cheating on my girlfriend?” He shouted out, “If you don’t like me, I’d rather you just fucking say it instead of being weird about it!”
“It's nothing like that,” I reassured him.
“What is it then? Cuz’ it’s clearly something,” he interrogated. I looked at him silently, “I caught you starin’ at my dick last night.”
“Dude, I wasn’t.”
“You were, don’t try to hide it.” He stopped sounding mad and sounded more… curious? “It’s fine if you were, I’m not gonna blow up on you.”
“I’m not gay.” I asserted.
“I never said you were.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Just said it’s fine, cuz’ I’m honestly guilty of doing the same in the past. Whatever's going on with you, you don’t gotta hide it from me. Were bros. Bandmates. Whatever.”
“Nothing is going on with me. Me staring at your dick has nothing to do with anything. I was just drunk.” I relaxed my shoulders and leaned back on the stool. “I keep staring at you, cuz’ seeing you cheat on your girlfriend was just a huge shock for me. It’s nothing like you. Can’t shake that feeling.” I partially lied. I mean, that might be part of the reason I’m staring, but it's more so me thinking about his body.
He groaned in disgust at himself, “That's fine, man. Sorry for making a big deal about it. I’ve just been on the edge about a lot of stuff in my life lately.” He sighed, “I regret doing that shit so bad, I don’t know what possessed me to do it.” He got up and gave me a hug, “Thank you, Nick, for not hating me. I know what I did was wrong, and I’m glad to have you with me to help me better myself,” he voiced softly, as he began to tear up.
I hugged him back, “You’re welcome. You’re one of my closest friends, and I know you’re not that kind of person.” He pushed his face into my shoulder and began to sob. I patted his back, and he pushed himself up.
“Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I’m gonna go shower,” he walked off into my bathroom. “I’m gonna borrow your underwear if that's fine!” He shouted from the bathroom.
I cackled, “That's fine!” I leaned back into my stool and sighed in relief, grinning.
To be continued…
