Jordan and Zac had been best mates since they were kids in Manchester, growing up on the same estate, kicking a ball around the park after school and getting into the same scrapes. Now both twenty-two, they were proper tradies through and through. Zac was a plasterer, always covered in dust by the end of the day, broad shoulders and forearms like ropes from hauling boards and mixing up. Jordan worked as a brickie, tanned from being out on sites all year, tall and solid with that easy grin that got him out of trouble more times than he could count. They were both good-looking lads, six-foot-plus, toned from the graft, short dark hair, sharp jawlines, the kind of handsome that turned heads in the pub but they never made a big deal of it. Proper lads, lads: weekends were for the match (both die-hard Man City fans, season tickets in the same stand, screaming at the ref together every home game), a few pints at the local, and chasing skirt. Jordan went through girlfriends like they were going out of fashion, one after another, never sticking with any for long. Zac had been with the same girl, Chloe, for years, proper settled in that way, but it did not stop him sleeping around. He would pull birds whenever he was away on nights out or on work jobs, and of course there was the thing with Jordan. That had been going on quietly for a while too.
The first time it happened was two years back on a big night out in Liverpool with the rest of the crew. The hotel had cocked up the booking so instead of the twin room they had paid for, they ended up with a double. They had all piled in after pre-drinks and a few pills to keep the buzz going. Jordan and Zac struck out hard at the club that night, both of them chatting up birds who ended up ghosting off with other groups. Pissed as farts and still buzzing, they stumbled back to the double bed they were sharing while the rest of the lads carried on somewhere else. They were laughing about how shit the night had gone, stripping down to boxers and crashing onto the mattress. One thing led to another, just messing around at first, shoving each other, play-fighting like they always did when they were drunk. Then Zac ended up on top of Jordan, both of them still cracking up, and suddenly it was not so funny anymore. Hands slipped under waistbands, breathing got heavy, and before either of them really knew what was happening Zac was inside Jordan, raw and clumsy but it felt electric. Jordan took it, gripping the sheets, and they both came hard without saying a word about it afterwards. They just cleaned up, passed out, and never mentioned it once the next morning when the lads all met for breakfast.
Nothing happened for months after that. Life carried on, sites, pubs, girlfriends, the usual. Then they were at the races one summer, proper day session, suits on, loads of pints and bets, back to Jordan's house at the end of it because his latest missus was away. They were wrecked again, sprawled on his bed watching some crap on the telly, and it just clicked back into place. This time they switched. Zac bottomed, Jordan on top, still no real talk, just drunk hands and the same rush. It felt good. Really good. After that it became their thing, but only when they were properly smashed together. A festival here, a stag do there, nights when the girlfriends were out of town or the pubs had shut and they ended up back at one of their places or a hotel. They never planned it out loud, never texted about it sober, but they both started expecting it. Jordan usually ended up bottoming more often, something about the way it felt when Zac took control, but they swapped whenever the mood hit. They even started bringing lube with them on nights out, tucked in a jacket pocket like it was just another essential, no big discussion, just practical. Zac still went home to Chloe most nights, and Jordan kept cycling through new girls, but this stayed between them.
It had been going on like that for the last year and a half, their dirty little secret that somehow never messed with the rest of their friendship. They still bantered the same, still went to the football, still slagged each other off in the group chat. Girlfriends came and went for Jordan, but Zac had Chloe steady, even if he still pulled on the side when the chance came up. This thing with Jordan was just another part of that, only when they were drunk, only when it felt right.
Tonight was different though. They were out in Manchester with the usual crew, one of those big nights where the club was packed and the music was pounding. Zac had been dumped by Chloe earlier that week, proper blindsided after years together. He was in a mood all day on site, quiet for once, and Jordan had been the one to drag him out anyway. "Come on mate, fuck her, we'll get you sorted." They had been knocking back drinks since six, but by midnight Zac was not really feeling it anymore. Jordan could tell. They were both pretty pissed, eyes glassy, but Zac kept checking his phone like he was hoping for a message that was never coming. Around one in the morning Zac leaned in close at the bar, voice low over the bass. "I'm done here lad. Hotel's only round the corner. You coming or what?"
Jordan did not even hesitate. They told the rest of the lads they were heading back early, some excuse about work in the morning, and slipped out into the cool Manchester night. The walk to the hotel was short and quiet, just the two of them, shoulders bumping like always. Up in the room they kicked off their trainers, jackets hitting the floor, and Zac cracked open the mini-bar for a couple of beers even though they did not really need them. They sat on the edge of the bed, same as always, but something in the air felt heavier tonight. Jordan looked at Zac, saw the tension in his jaw, and without thinking he leaned in and kissed him square on the lips for the first time ever. Not a drunken peck, not joking around, a proper kiss, mouths open, tongues sliding together slow and deep. Zac froze for half a second then kissed back hard, hands grabbing Jordan's shirt.
It escalated fast after that. Clothes came off in a tangle, both of them breathing ragged. Suddenly they felt free, like all the years of holding back had snapped, and they went for what they really wanted, desperate and starving for it. They kissed like they were trying to devour each other, tongues thrusting deep, lips crushing together, wet and messy and urgent. Hands gripped hair and necks, pulling each other closer, moans spilling into each other's mouths as if they could not get enough. They broke apart gasping only when they needed air, then dove straight back in, kissing even harder, teeth clashing, spit slick on chins, like two lads who had finally unlocked something they had been craving without admitting it.
Zac pulled away, breathing heavy, eyes wild, and told Jordan in a rough voice, "Get on your knees on the bed, head down, ass up." Jordan did not hesitate, scrambling into position, heart hammering. Zac knelt behind him, stripped the last of Jordan's clothes off with rough hands, then wrapped his strong arms under Jordan's stomach and yanked him back hard. He pulled Jordan's tight, muscular ass straight onto his own face and buried his tongue in deep for the first time ever. It was a revelation for both of them. Jordan moaned loud, swearing and shaking in pleasure, his mind exploding with the intensity of the feeling and the shock of it. His best mate was eating his ass, tongue licking and pushing inside him, and he fucking loved it, hips twitching, whole body trembling as waves of raw pleasure ripped through him. Zac loved it too, the heat and the taste of his best friend's sexy, tight little ass driving him wild. Why had he not been doing this for years? He groaned into Jordan's hole, licking deeper, tongue fucking him with long, hungry strokes, completely lost in it.
Zac came up for air after a long minute, eyes dark and glazed, and grabbed the lube they had both known would be used tonight. But this time he did not reach for a condom. He slicked himself up, lined up, and pushed in bare, skin on skin, all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust. Jordan gasped, back arching, taking every inch. They had never gone raw before. It felt insane, hot and tight and so much more intense. Zac started fucking him doggy style, deep and steady at first, then harder, the slap of skin loud in the quiet room.
After a few minutes Jordan looked back over his shoulder, voice rough with need. "Can I ride you, mate?" Zac nodded straight away, pulling out and lying back on the bed. Jordan climbed on top, straddling him, and slowly sank down onto Zac's big, thick dick until he was fully seated. This was unusual for them. Normally their sex was doggy style and quick, no eye contact, just getting off. Now though they were staring into each other as Jordan fucked himself up and down on Zac's big thick dick, using his hole to suck and wank Zac off with tight, deliberate squeezes. Their eyes stayed locked the whole time, intense and unbroken, breaths mingling as Jordan rolled his hips and rode him properly.
Zac grabbed Jordan by the waist and rolled them both over so they were in missionary, Jordan's legs spread wide with Zac laid between them. They kept kissing as they fucked, deep and hungry, tongues sliding together while Zac thrust into him with long, powerful strokes. Zac reached down and started jerking Jordan's dick in time with his thrusts, stroking him firm and fast. Jordan's moans got louder, his hole clenching tight around Zac as he got closer. When Jordan came he shot hard across his own stomach and chest, his tight spasming hole milking Zac and pushing him over the edge. "Cum inside me," Jordan gasped between kisses. Zac buried himself deep and did exactly that, pumping load after load straight inside Jordan with no rubber in the way, groaning into his mouth as he filled him up.
They stayed locked together for a long minute, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together at first, then still kissing softly as they came down from their high. Neither of them said anything about the kiss, or the rimming, or going bare, or the way they had looked at each other the whole time. They never did talk about it. But they both knew this one had been different. Zac finally pulled out slow, watching his cum leak out of Jordan, and they just collapsed together on the bed, sticky and wrecked and closer than they had ever been. The rest of the night they slept tangled up, same as always, ready for the hangover in the morning and the lads asking where they had disappeared to. Business as usual, except it was not, not anymore.
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