Surprises From My Body 04 (Patreon)

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

Chapter 4: Boyfriends

A couple of weeks passed, and our new little hobby went on, mostly in secret, with occasional comments from Rich’s brother. He basically had the same response to seeing my dick that Rich did, but we weren’t close, so he didn’t have the space to reach out and grab it. Still, I felt his eyes on me every time I went over after that.

In a short amount of time, we had learned to properly fuck each other, and our ritual of dumping lotion onto each other’s butts and stuffing it as smoothly as possible eventually felt like second nature.

Rich never let me down. That was the thing I couldn't get used to. Every time I showed up at his door he opened it. Every time I reached for him he was there. We fell into a rhythm of one of us getting horny and using each other’s bodies to get off, with lots of making out and cuddling, just the two of us and whatever we felt like doing on a given afternoon, and Rich approached all of it with the same unbothered energy he brought to everything else in his life.

That was the part that got to me.

Anytime he looked at a girl I felt it in my chest. Not jealousy exactly, or not only jealousy. It was more specific than that. It was the fear that a girl would be the thing that finally made him realize what we were doing together had a name, and that the name would scare him off. I watched him watch girls the way I watched everything about him, closely and from a safe distance. He looked at them. He smiled. He did the thing guys do where they nudge you and nod in a direction. And then he would look back at me and his eyes would be the same as always, clear and uncomplicated, and I would feel the fear subside for another day.

He never once seemed to connect the two things. That was either the most comforting fact in my life or the most terrifying one, and most days I couldn't tell which.

I thought about it constantly. He could do everything we did and then watch a girl walk by and feel nothing contradictory about either experience. I had no idea what that was like. Everything I did with Rich contradicted everything I had thought about myself before the day in the stream, and I was still in the middle of sorting it out. But Rich was just Rich, easygoing and physical and present, never more than a text away, never strange about any of it.

It hit me one morning when I woke up that I loved him. 

I had known that for a while and had been doing the same thing with it that he did with everything else, not examining it too closely.

The woods were his idea, actually. We hadn't been back since that first time we did stuff in the stream. He texted me on a Saturday morning, just the word bike day, and I knew what he meant and I was on the road to his place in two minutes.

The path looked different that day. The trails were dry, and the dirt was easy to ride on. The forest was fuller, greener, the mud long dried out. We rode without talking much, the way we usually rode, Rich slightly ahead, me slightly behind, the trees opening up around us as we got further from town. I watched the back of his neck and the set of his shoulders and thought about the first time we had ridden this same path in the rain, and how little I had understood then about what was already happening to me.

Once we got to the bike trails in the woods, we had sort of a telepathic conversation, and left our bikes at the top of the hill and went down on foot. The stream was lower than it had been. It was quieter, but still babbling, like things had settled. The water hole was still there, still deep enough, the same rocks on the bank where we had sat that first afternoon and compared ourselves to each other.

We undressed without discussing it. That was new, or not new exactly, but different from the first time, when everything had been accidental and rain-soaked and surprising. This was a choice, made in full daylight, in a place we had returned to on purpose.

I watched him pull his shirt over his head and thought about everything that had happened since the last time we were here. Every afternoon in his room. Every time I had reached for his body and he had been there for me, responsive, both physically and mentally. He would be hard before I even reached for his junk. 

I thought about every girl he had looked at and every time his eyes had come back to me afterward, like I was the natural default, even if a girl turned him on. I was the one who got to do this stuff in private with him.

I sat on a rock and watched his nude form wade into the water, his pale skin bright in the afternoon light. His skin almost sparkled.

"You're beautiful," I said.

He looked back at me over his shoulder. "Shut up," he said, but he was smiling.

I waded in after him. The water was warmer than the first time, or maybe I was just less cold. We stood across from each other in the shallows and I looked at him and felt the thing in my chest that I had been carrying around.

"I love you," I said. "I want to be boyfriends."

He looked at me. His expression moved through a bit of surprise before coming out the other side as a smile.

"Isn't that gay though?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess so."

He stood there for a second with the smile still on his face, his hands paddled slowly through the stream around him, back and forth, the water moving around his waist, the trees behind him full and green and completely indifferent to what was happening.

"Well, ok then," he said.

I crossed the distance between us and kissed him, and he kissed back immediately the way he always did, his hands finding my sides, pulling me against him in the warm shallow water. This kiss was different from the first one. The first one had been surprised into existence. This one was chosen, by both of us, standing in the same stream where it had all started, in full daylight, with full knowledge of what we were doing and what it meant.

He bit my lip when we broke apart, like a bit of playful pressure.

"Boyfriends," he said, like he was testing to see how the word felt

"Lovers," I said.

He girimaced. “God, no.”

We laughed, and the tightness in my chest that had been wound tight for two months released all at once.

I grabbed him and he grabbed me back, and we moved to the bank, to the flat rocks where we had sat the first time, and the dynamic between us was different now in some way. I felt it in my whole body, and in his movements. We were less careful, more in sync, not one of us leading and the other following. We were equal and certain and in a hurry, his hands groping me below the waist with a new kind of urgency, mine doing the same to him, our mouths finding each other and breaking apart and finding each other again. I kissed down his neck and he nibbled on my shoulder.

"Wait," I said, and reached for my bag on the bank.

I pulled out a small bottle and held it up.

He looked at it. "What is that."

"I bought it on Amazon."

He stared at it for a second and then started laughing.

"It’s lube," he said, almost like a question.

"I think we need it," I said.

He shook his head, still laughing, and reached for me.

He turned around and put his hands up on a rock. “You can go fast this time. I kinda like it when it hurts a little, for some reason.”

“Come here,” I said. “I wanna see you.”

I guided him onto his back on a flat rock, and lifted his legs. I used way more lube than I needed as I worked myself into him.

It already felt different from the previous times, and not just because of the lube, though that was part of it. It was different because we were boyfriends now, because that word had been said out loud in full daylight. Rich had smiled before he said it and that smile had meant something. I felt all of that in the way he touched me. Or maybe I was imagining it, but at least we were on the same page now. I didn’t need to know what he was thinking anymore.

Before I got too far along, he shifted away and stood up, pressing me back against the flat rock, and I let him. 

“I want to see you too,” he said as he lifted my body in the air, pressing my back against the rock face as I wrapped my legs around him.

“I always forget how strong you are,” I said.

He didn’t answer. His jaw was set the way it got during sports, during anything that required him to be precise, and I watched him be precise about me.

When he pushed into me I kept my eyes open and on his face. He looked back at me and held the eye contact longer than I expected, longer than the usual Rich, longer than the guy who looked at the wall after and let his eyes go clear. He looked at me like I was specifically the thing he was looking at, not just the body under him but me, and his voice when it came out was rough in a way I hadn't heard before.

He worked his dick fully inside me in seconds, and our abs pressed together around mine. With all the lube I had applied, it felt like a really special kind of stimulation, getting stuffed while making out with him, and the rubbing sensation between us stimulating my own organ.

My legs flailed around in the air, and he was rougher with me than he had ever been, not careless but certain, the way you can be with someone when the question of whether they want to be there has been settled. I pulled him closer when he moved to pull back. He pressed deeper when my back sank lower against the rock. We found a rhythm that wasn't shallow and careful like the first time but full and insistent, two people who knew each other's bodies by now and weren't being polite about it.

I finished first, the way I almost always did, loud enough that some bird somewhere took off from a branch above us. He followed almost immediately, his whole body slamming forward onto mine, bending my back in a way that felt sort of good, like an orgasmic chiropractor maneuver, both of us breathing hard into each other's necks.

We stayed like that for a while. The stream made its sounds. The trees moved a little in whatever breeze there was.

He lifted his head and looked at me.

"Good call on the lube," he said.

I laughed, and he smiled at the laugh, and I thought about the first time I had seen him smile in this place, knee deep in the stream on a rainy afternoon with no idea what was about to happen to either of us. I had been so sure then that I was the only one it was happening to. Maybe I still wasn't entirely wrong about that. Rich would always be Rich, clear-eyed and unbothered, moving through the world without a ledger.

But he seemed different now, more smiley. 

“I like having a boyfriend,” he said with a nervous smile, like he was embarrassed to say it, his dick still buried inside me.

Afterward, we lay on a rock in the sun, his skin warm against mine, and when I shifted he shifted with me like it was a natural thing.

We lay there until the sun moved enough that the rock went into shade, and then we got up without saying anything. 

Totally naked, the two of us, picking our way up the hill through the trees with our clothes bundled under our arms and absolutely nothing between us and the world. His pale skin through the green and brown of the forest, the easy way he walked, unhurried and unconcerned, like being naked in the woods was our new normal.

I watched him walk ahead of me the way I always watched him, from slightly behind, tracking the movements of his glutes as he took each step, the gait of his back and his defined shoulders, the back of his neck. The way he stepped around a root without looking down.

The trees opened up at the top of the hill where we'd left our bikes. He dropped his clothes on the ground and started sorting through them, pulling his shorts on first, not rushing.

I stood there for a second at the edge of the trees with the sun on my skin and thought about the mirror in his bathroom, what felt like a hundred years ago. Seeing myself the way someone else would see me for the first time. I had thought then that the surprise was the size of me. I understood now that the surprise had been something else entirely, something I had probably been carrying my whole life.

I got dressed. Rich was already on his bike, one foot on a pedal, waiting without impatience the way he always waited for me.

I got on my bike and rode up next to him. I looked forward ready to take off, when he stopped me, grabbing my shoulder. I turned to look at him, and he pulled my neck toward him for a kiss. 

"Come on, boyfriend," he said as he pulled away, then took off on his back, wordlessly daring me to chase him.