Ryan was my best mate and we’d been sharing a student flat in Manchester since first year. He was the classic lad, tall with broad shoulders from the gym, messy brown hair, and that cheeky grin that got him into bed with half the girls on campus. Always the loud one on nights out, buying rounds, chatting up anyone in a short skirt. I was the quieter one, happy to let him take the lead while I tagged along. I’d been out as gay since college and Ryan had never batted an eyelid. He was sound like that.
The day after a heavy night in town we were both proper hungover, sprawled in his room with the curtains half closed. Empty water bottles and takeaway boxes littered the floor. I was lying on his bed in just a t-shirt and boxers while he sat against the headboard in a pair of loose grey shorts and nothing else, showing off that solid chest and the faint line of hair running down his stomach.
“Mate, that bloke last night was proper bold,” Ryan said with a laugh, rubbing his eyes. “Kept buying me drinks and then just came out with it, asked if I wanted to go back to his.”
I smirked. “Bet you hated that.”
Ryan shrugged and took a swig of water. “Nah, I didn’t mind it. Flattering, innit? Good job you didn’t see it though or you’d have got jealous.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I probably would have.”
He looked at me for a second longer than usual, that confident smirk still on his face. Then he stretched, flexing his arms above his head so the muscles in his chest and shoulders stood out. I tried not to stare but it was hard when he was laid out like that, skin still warm from sleeping.
“Remember how much fun that truth or dare was last night?” he asked casually. “Haven’t played it properly in years. We should do it again, just us two. Proper rules this time, no holding back.”
I raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Yeah, go on then. Why not?”
Ryan grinned like he’d won something. “Truth or dare?”
We started easy. A few truths about stupid stuff from the night before, then dares to down a glass of water or do twenty push-ups. Shirts came off pretty quickly. Ryan’s torso looked even better up close, that faint sheen of sweat from the warm room and the leftover booze in his system.
When it was my turn I picked truth.
Ryan leaned forward. “Have you ever thought about hooking up with me?”
My heart jumped. I swallowed. “Yeah. More than once.”
He didn’t laugh or look awkward. Instead his eyes lit up. “Dare,” he said straight away.
I thought for a second. “Show me what that bloke last night wanted to see.”
Ryan stood up without hesitation. He hooked his thumbs into his shorts and pushed them down. His cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy, resting against his thigh. He gave it a lazy stroke and looked at me. “Your turn. Dare.”
“Dare,” I replied, voice a bit rough.
He stepped closer. “Lose the boxers and show me that arse you’ve been hiding.”
I did as he said. The second I turned around I heard him exhale. “Fuck, Jamie. Proper nice, that.” His hand landed on my hip, warm and confident. “Truth. You want me to touch it?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
He moved behind me, pressed his body against mine so I could feel his cock, now fully hard, nestling between my cheeks. One hand reached round and he started stroking me slowly while the other teased my hole with a spit-slick finger.
“Been thinking about this since last night,” he admitted quietly. “When that lad was chatting me up I kept wondering what you’d do if you saw. Got me curious.”
He pushed me gently onto the bed on all fours. I heard him spit again, felt his tongue press against me a moment later. Ryan ate me out like he was starving, messy and eager, his stubble rubbing against my skin while he groaned. I had to grip the sheets tight to stop myself moaning too loud.
When I couldn’t take any more I turned over and pulled him down. His cock was thick, veiny, and tasted clean with a hint of that manly musk. I sucked him as best I could while he fingered me open, whispering “good lad” every time I took him deeper.
Eventually he flipped me onto my back, hooked my legs over his shoulders and pushed inside. The stretch was intense but he went slow at first, watching my face the whole time. Once I relaxed he started fucking me properly, deep, steady strokes that made the bed creak. Ryan was strong and confident, exactly like he was on nights out, taking control and pounding me harder when he saw how much I liked it.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled at one point, sweat dripping off his chest onto mine.
He fucked me in three different positions before he finally pulled out and came across my stomach in thick ropes. I followed seconds later, shooting between us while he kept stroking me through it.
We lay there afterwards, breathing hard, his arm slung across my chest.
Ryan let out a low chuckle. “Reckon we’re doing that again, yeah?”
I smiled. “Whenever you want, mate.”
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