The Invitation from Your Coworkers We Couldn’t Refuse

We had arranged to get a drink after work with a couple of your coworkers. In principle it was going to be a quiet night: a beer, two at most, and home early. Marcos and Dani were the kind of people you liked the minute you met them, quick with a joke and generous with the rounds. That they were a couple, we only found out much later, and in the worst possible way.

We started at a restaurant they knew, a small place with cloth tablecloths and a wine list far too long for the hour it was. We ordered without looking at prices. The first red went down smoothly, the second even more so, and by the time dessert arrived we were laughing as if we’d known each other all our lives.

“The night is young,” Marcos said, twirling his glass between his fingers. “Up for another round at a place just next door?”

I looked at you. You shrugged with that smile you get when you’ve already decided yes. For months, routine had been eating away at us from the inside: mismatched shifts, dinners in front of the television, desire postponed for a weekend that never came. That night, for once, there was no one waiting for us at home and no alarm clock the next day.

“One more and then we’re going,” you promised, though we both knew that line never gets kept.

The place had a queer vibe, though it took us a while to figure that out. At first we felt a little out of place, two of the few straight couples among the people crowding the bar. But the mood was contagious. The music hit you in the chest, the lights bathed everything in red, and glass after glass later that initial awkwardness had faded until it disappeared altogether.

At some point that night I realized you had loosened up. You were dancing with your eyes half-closed, your back against my chest, and I could feel the heat of your body through the fabric of your dress. We weren’t the only ones who noticed.

“If you feel like carrying on, we live two streets away,” Dani said, almost in my ear, when we stepped out onto the sidewalk to get some air. “We share a flat. We’ve got good wine and better music.”

There was something in the way he said it. A question inside the question. But we were both too keyed up to stop and think, and the truth was neither of us wanted the night to end yet.

“Let’s go,” you said before I could answer.

***

The flat was bright even in the early hours, with high ceilings and low furniture. We had barely crossed the door when Marcos and Dani found each other’s mouths with a naturalness that left us frozen in the entryway. It wasn’t a kiss for show. It was the kiss of people who knew each other’s bodies by heart.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” one of them murmured against the other’s lips, and they headed down the back of the hallway without letting go.

We were left alone, staring at each other.

We didn’t know they were a couple.

And yet, instead of making us uncomfortable, it sparked something. We were already hot from the club, our bodies still vibrating from dancing, and the surprise only added fuel. They had left their bedroom door half open. A strip of warm light cut across the hallway.

Before retreating to ours, we stood there watching. That was all, at first. The way they undressed each other, slowly, without haste, revealing skin in lazy, deliberate pulls. We had never seen two men together so close before, and curiosity weighed more than any hesitation.

I started kissing your neck. You turned your head and found my mouth, and we kissed with a urgency I hadn’t felt in a long time. With each kiss we moved one step closer to that door. We didn’t decide it; we simply ended up there, on the threshold, spying on what was happening inside with heavy breathing.

“Are you staying there, or are you coming in?” Marcos said, without a trace of mockery.

You went in first. You were always the brave one of the two.

Dani was lying on his back on the bed, and Marcos was standing beside it, both of them naked, with not a hint of shame. You moved toward them as if you knew exactly what you wanted, knelt at the edge of the mattress, and lowered your head to Dani’s cock. You kissed it first, slowly, and then took him fully into your mouth with a hunger that made me lose my breath.

I stayed standing, watching you, and my own arousal became impossible to hide. Marcos noticed right away.

“Don’t stand so far away,” he said.

He came toward me with a calm that was disarming. He unbuttoned my trousers without rushing, looking me in the eye in case I wanted to stop him. I didn’t. He pulled the skin back with two fingers and began to work me with his tongue, slowly, drawing circles that sent a shiver from the nape of my neck to my heels.

I braced one hand against the wall so I wouldn’t lose my balance. No other man had ever touched me like that, and the novelty of it — the beard grazing my thighs, the firm hand where a woman would have been gentler — had me completely undone. With his other hand he stroked me, alternating between mouth and fingers, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

I thought I’d feel embarrassed, or some last-minute reservation. I felt none of that. Only the heat of the room, the smell of sweat mixed with wine, and the strange certainty that neither of us was pretending. You caught my gaze for a moment, over Dani’s shoulder, and in that look everything fit: surprise, permission, want.

Because meanwhile you had climbed onto Dani. You were riding him slowly, letting him enter you little by little, your head thrown back and your lips parted. I knew every gesture of yours, and I knew you were about to let yourself go completely.

***

I couldn’t keep watching you like that. I broke away from Marcos, crossed the few steps that separated me from the bed, and got in behind you. You were so open, so wet, that I went in all at once, without resistance. You felt the two of us filling you at the same time and let out a long, deep moan I’d never heard from you before.

For a while it was only the three of us, finding a shared rhythm by feel, each thrust of his answered by one of mine. You were in the middle, between the two bodies, and with each passing second you moved with more abandon, your nails digging into Dani’s chest.

I held your hips and watched you disappear and return, over and over, split between the two of us. I had never seen you so surrendered, with not a single extra thought left, just body and desire. And knowing it was me who had brought you to that point, that we were crossing it together, excited me more than anything else that night.

Then I felt Marcos’s hands on my back.

They moved down slowly, tracing my spine, until they settled on my hips. I felt his arousal against me before I fully understood what was about to happen. He began to lubricate me with his fingers, patiently, without forcing anything, waiting for my body to decide on its own. I had never imagined being on that side. And yet, in the middle of that heat, all I felt was the urge for more.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his rough voice close to my ear.

I didn’t stop anything. I pushed back, searching for him, and that was all the answer he needed.

He entered slowly, first just the tip, giving me time to get used to it. I clenched my teeth, not from pain but from sheer intensity, and little by little I felt him slide in all the way. The pressure was strange and overwhelming at the same time, a new sensation that ran through me from the inside out.

And suddenly the four of us were connected.

Every time Marcos pushed into me, I pushed into you, and you felt Dani answering you from below. A chain of bodies in sync, moving as one. There were no hands left unused, no mouths still. You moaned without holding back, I breathed against the nape of your neck, and the two men set a rhythm that dragged us all toward the same point.

I came inside you with a tremor that bent my back, just as I felt Marcos pulling out to finish outside. Dani did the same, almost at the same time, and for a second the only sound in the room was four people trying to catch their breath.

***

It didn’t end there completely. They stayed standing in front of the bed, and we, still seated on the rumpled sheets, leaned forward almost without thinking. You took one, I took the other, and we finished them like that, with our mouths, glancing sideways at each other while we did it.

When they came, you turned toward me and we kissed, sharing everything before swallowing. It was, perhaps, the most intimate moment of the whole night: that dirty, complicit kiss, the two of us holding each other’s gaze as if to say we did this together.

Then came the gentle silence of people who have just crossed a line. We dressed slowly. Marcos offered us water, Dani called a taxi. There were soft laughs, a couple of jokes to break the tension, nothing awkward.

In the taxi ride home we barely said anything. You rested your head on my shoulder and squeezed my hand, and I understood that no words were needed.

We never mentioned it again. Not at home, nor when you ran into them at work the next day, where everything went on as if that early morning had never existed. It stayed tucked away between the two of us, a secret that only rises to the surface on nights when we find each other again in the dark and, without saying it, know exactly what we’re both thinking.