The front door to Mason’s house slammed shut as Anthony treated it like his own, as he always did. He tossed his duffel bag on the ground in the entryway and took his jacket and shoes off, tossing them haphazardly to the side before pounding down the basement stairs to his best friend. It was Friday night, which meant takeout and video games were incoming for the usual weekly sleepover between the eighteen year olds.
“Yoooooo, dude,” Mason drew out from the old couch, mashing on game controller buttons.
Anthony flung himself down onto the couch. “My bad for being late. Track coach kept us late.”
Mason snorted, running a hand through his swoopy brown hair. “All good, I ran a couple solos on here. I’m gonna order pizza. Also snagged a bottle from the cabinet upstairs so we can loosen up a bit.” He smirked like the devilish teen he was.
Anthony froze, his hazel eyes widening. “Oh shit, nice work! They won’t notice right?”
“Relax, loser,” Mason countered, pulling a bottle from underneath the blankets. “We’re fine and I can’t deal with you all night, sober.”
Anthony, despite his shyness and rule-abiding nature, had always been a follower, especially when Mason was leading the charge. It’d been like that since they were little kids. And the lure of getting slightly outside his comfort zone always pumped some adrenaline through his bones even if hated to admit it. Plus, he liked that Mason pushed him when he was too anxious to go for broke, himself. Mason made everything more fun for them and Anthony couldn’t remember a time he’d ever regretted going along with a crazy plan. There was never anything that put them in serious danger so until that was the case, Anthony knew he'd always eventually cave to just about anything.
“Fine,” Anthony conceded, “but I’m ratting you out if we get caught.”
"You would. Snitch bitch." Mason ordered some food then tossed his phone aside. He hopped up and grabbed them two glasses to get their little two-man party going until their other best friend, the third leg of their triangle, Xavier, arrived
Thirty minutes later, they were back on the couch, munching on pizza and loosening up with those libations.
Mason leaned back on the couch and paused the game. “Yo, so don’t laugh, but I’ve been talking to Michelle Dunfeld.”
Anthony nearly choked. “Michelle Dunfeld? The smoke show who graduated last year? Sure you are, bud…”
“Fuck off. She’s a freshman in college now and she wants me,” Mason said, grinning with forced swagger that he didn't actually possess. He pulled out his phone, navigating to Snapchat. “She’s been replying to my stories all week. I didn’t even start it up first!”
Anthony was skeptical and he was worried the drinks might make him gullible. He knew Mason had a flair for exaggeration, especially concerning his minimal sexual history. It consisted of a few handjobs at most and sometimes Anthony even doubted that it was "a few" instead of just one. “Bullshit,” Anthony said flatly. “Her account must’ve gotten hacked dude. Let me guess, they’re asking for you to ship money off somewhere, right?”
Mason’s eyes narrowed in a playful challenge. “You’re just jealous, string bean.” The nickname was another playful jab about Anthony’s dedication to running and his lean, hard physique, which contrasted Mason's less defined frame. In reality, Anthony was far from a string bean and more so lean, toned muscle.
Mason wasted no time in showing off. He quickly framed the two of them, Anthony looking handsome but flustered with his olive toned skin and jet black hair, and Mason looking goofy as always, and snapped a pic. He hit send on the snap to Michelle.
They waited and it didn’t take long for a response to come through.
Mason’s phone lit up, and he snagged it, his eyes scanning the screen. He let out a satisfied, high-pitched whistle.
“Well, well, well, guess who’s not a liar,” Mason said, turning the phone just enough for Anthony to read the reply.
Hiiiiii! Who’s your friend? He looks kinda cute too ;)
Anthony felt a rush of embarrassment. His hands, usually so steady, suddenly felt clammy. “No way,” he mumbled, taking the phone to look closer. It was undeniably her, every guy had had a crush on her for years. “That’s fucking crazy. I don’t get it? Why is she talking to you?!”
“She wants me!” Mason said, snatching the phone back. “And she called me hot!” He took a swig of the drink. “So, what now? What do I say?”
Anthony, still reeling from the unexpected compliment, felt the alcohol giving him an edge of daring that he rarely possessed. “What do you want to happen?”
“I want to get some!” Mason said, as if it should’ve been obvious.
“Okay, well have you seen her naked?” Anthony asked.
Mason scoffed. “No, obviously not...” He thought it over. “But I could fix that. Hold this.”
Mason handed his drink to Anthony, who took it on autopilot. He had a habit of being Xavier and Mason's 'bitch' at times.
Mason opened the chat with Michelle again. Anthony leaned in, watching the screen intently. Mason typed something, then deleted it. He typed again.
My friend Anthony. We were wondering what you’re wearing?
"What you're wearing?" Anthony mocked him. "That's the best you could come up with?!"
"YO FUCK YOU!" Mason shoved him. "I don't know how to do this!"
Mason tapped his foot impatiently. Anthony watched, anxiously, feeling a stir in his pants that scared him.
Michelle’s reply came quickly again. Wouldn’t you like to know! Why don’t you send me something interesting, and then I’ll show you ;)
Mason laughed. “Oh, she’s good! She wants something first. She knows exactly what I was going for.”
"Or she's literally just fucking with you dude..." Anthony was sure of it.
Mason looked at the phone, then at Anthony, feeling nervous and wondering why he’d gotten himself into this.
"Hey, maybe she's not though. My bad, man." Anthony said. He was not only feeling a little guilty, but was also interested in seeing this through. At this point, the only one who risked looking like an idiot was Mason.
“Never mind on all this,” Mason said, leaning back and making a show of being too casual. “I’ll just tell her that I’ll hit her up later.”
“Later!?” Anthony’s voice was urgent and his heart was pounding. He knew Mason’s history, and he knew this was a massive bluff. And now, having been called 'cute' by the older girl, Anthony felt an odd sense of adventure to see where they could get this to go. He pushed. “You’re the horniest guy I know! Just send her a dick pic! She’s asking you to!”
Mason waved his hand dismissively. “Dude, are you joking? Ant, you’re here, no fucking way. Fuck off. I’ll do it later.”
Anthony scoffed, “don’t be such a bitch, dude! Go to the bathroom or something and do it!”
Mason’s phone vibrated again, interrupting them.
“Oh my God, dude, look at this,” Mason said, practically shoving his phone into Anthony’s face.
“Lemme guess, is she calling you a little bitch cause you haven't responded yet?” Anthony laughed, pleased with himself for giving Mason his usual shit back.
“No, you idiot. Look! She's with her roommate or whoever. Holy hell.” Mason whispered.
On the screen were two girls looking hot and in little enough clothing to make the two boys salivate at what was hiding underneath.
“I told you she was hot,” Mason breathed. “Like, college hot. And her friend is too.”
“Yeah, I mean, that doesn’t mean she’s into you, though! She could still just be fucking with you!” Anthony said, trying to sound innocent, but his gaze was locked on the phone.
He reached out with a fast motion and snatched the device from Mason’s hand.
“Hey! Give me my phone back, you fuck!” Mason lunged, but Anthony was too quick, holding the phone high above his head.
Anthony tapped the screen. “You know what would be even hotter than this?” he said, a devilish spark in his eyes that only ever appeared when Mason’s chaotic energy infected him. He typed a quick message: You two should make out, alongside a string of emojis, hitting send before Mason could even register what he’d done.
Mason erupted. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, Ant?! I’ve been trying to play it cool and you just fucked everything up! Come ON! Why would you do that!”
He went into one of his bratty fits, a common thing for the sometimes unhinged clown of the friend group.
“Whoa, chill out, dude,” Anthony said, handing the phone back with a smirk. “You’re never gonna get with her, dude, we might as well see where this can go tonight!”
“Well, now I’m not gonna fucking get with her! You just ruined this for me! I hate you sometimes, you’re such a...fuck, wait. I have a snap back.” Mason’s tirade was cut short.
He swiped open the message, and his jaw dropped so fast it might have hit the floor.
He stared at the screen, then back at Anthony, his brown eyes wide with teenage horniness. “No. Fucking. Way.”
Anthony, now curious, leaned in, their shoulders bumping. It was a video of the two girls making out and laughing.
Anthony let out a small, nervous laugh. “See…I told you…you’re welcome…fuck, that’s hot.”
Mason just shook his head, unable to speak. He watched it three more times, letting it play on a loop and feeling his shorts tent. He had to adjust himself and pull a pillow down over his lap.
A written message came in right after the video. Mason read it aloud, his voice cracking. “She said ‘okay, your turns. Man up and do the same!'…wait, what does she mean?”
Anthony recoiled. He started laughing, but it was a strained, uncomfortable sound. “Dude, this explains it. She must think you’re gay…” He immediately moved back from Mason on the couch. “No way she’d be sending that, otherwise. She thinks you’re, like, a harmless gay kid!”
Mason’s face flushed a deep, angry red. “Shut the fuck up, prick! I’m not gay and she doesn’t think that, either! Girls are just fine making out and shit!” His voice was defensive again and on the verge of another freakout.
He quickly typed a response. That's gay. Hard pass. He hit send, his thumbs trembling slightly before he ran a hand through his swoopy hair.
The response was instant. Aww, look at the little high school prudes! No one thinks you’re gay for having some fun! So disappointing!
The thought of losing this chance with Michelle, this college girl that dozens of guys had fawned over for years, wasn’t something he could afford.
He turned to Anthony, a desperate, wild look in his eyes. “We have to do it,” Mason declared, his chest heaving.
Anthony’s jaw dropped. “WHAT? Mason, no. Absolutely not. Are you gay, dude?”
“Oh come on, Ant! It’s just for a second! It’s not gay if it’s for a hot girl! You know I’d do it for you!” Mason pleaded.
Anthony shook his head, his black hair flopping. “Bullshit, no you wouldn’t! You’d be making fun of me all night for even asking it! I can’t. Seriously, Mase, no fucking way!” A discomfort Anthony had with his own sexuality was flaring up, making him physically tense. Mason had no such discomfort, even if he had the same fear of judgment that every other straight high school boy carried.
“Dude, she’s going to stop snapping me! She’s going to think I’m some kid who can’t have some fun or handle a joke!” Mason pleaded. “It's literally just a kiss, Ant! No tongue! Just a quick peck!”
Anthony hesitated. He thought Mason was hilarious, and he did enjoy the adrenaline rush that came with his outlandish ideas. He also wouldn’t mind seeing what they could continue getting back from the girls. He looked at Mason's earnest, desperate face. He knew that Mason even asking this of him was a huge blow to his friend's ego, and Anthony was loyal, if nothing else. He also knew he’d never hear the end of it if he ruined Mason’s chance.
“Fine, fine!” Anthony grumbled, his voice miserable. “But this stays between us! And I swear to God, if I feel any tongue, I’m kicking you in the nuts!”
“Deal! No tongue! Lips only! Just a peck! One second, tops!” Mason looked relieved.
Mason flipped his phone toward them. He held it up, making sure both their faces were framed clearly. He sat next Anthony on the couch, with a pillow now resting awkwardly in his lap.
“Okay, ready?” Mason asked. “Look like you mean it, man. It’s for the girls!”
Anthony swallowed hard, his tanned face turning pale. He took a deep breath, his six pack tightening under his shirt. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second. Mason's brown hair flopped forward. He could smell Anthony’s faint, earthy sweat from his earlier run, even if he’d showered since.
Mason closed the gap, pressing his lips firmly against Anthony’s. It was awkward. It was dry. It was a firm, slightly uncomfortable press of their mouths against each other. It lasted two seconds, before Mason was the one who shot back, recoiling as if he had just licked dirt.
“Ew, ugh!” Mason yelled, wiping his mouth furiously on the back of his hand. “That was disgusting! Your lips are all chapped, dude!”
Anthony, who was surprised that he hadn’t pulled back first, used a blanket to swipe at his mouth. “Don’t even, Mason! Your lips are so rough, you’re gross! That was…that was…the weirdest thing I’ve ever done!” The initial shock was already giving way to embarrassment and a kind of jittery confusion.
“Yeah, well, we did it,” Mason said, his voice regaining some of its usual cocky energy. He watched it back on the screen, a grin slowly spreading across his face. It looked exactly like what it was: an awkward kiss between two friends. Perfect.
He sent it to Michelle with the caption: Satisfied? What else you got?
They both slumped back on the couch, instantly putting a few feet of space between them.
It felt like an eternity, but within a minute, a snap came back. Mason snatched the phone and opened it, his earlier disgust instantly replaced by nervous anticipation. It was a picture that was far more provocative than before. Michelle and her friends were now inside what was clearly a dorm room. The background was blurry but they could easily tell that the girls had shed their tops, holding their arms over their chests to cover them in a teasing way.
Hotttt. There's waaaaay more that we can send you boys, if you will too ;)
He slowly turned his head to look at Anthony. Anthony, who was now leaning in, peering over Mason's shoulder, was shaking with anxiety. Anthony’s eyes, usually so timid and self-conscious, were wide with naughtiness, thinking about the possibilities. The color was rushing back to his olive toned face, his confusion slowly shifting to intrigue and excitement.
Mason raised an eyebrow, as if to ask: what’s next?
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