My Best Friend Asked Me for Something I Wasn't Expecting

I wake up with an erection hard as a rock. Diego is still asleep in the bed beside me, so I grab my phone and kill time with a couple of rounds until I hear him stretching awake.

—Losing again? —he asks in a thick voice.

—Shut up, I’d wipe the floor with you, kid.

He doesn’t push it. I think he’s going to say something about last night, but he just keeps staring at the ceiling. Between us, I guess.

We spend the morning at his place. His parents insist I stay for lunch and, after letting mine know, I accept. Around five in the afternoon I head home.

Mateo is on the sofa stuck to my dad, watching cartoons. My father has his eyes closed, but he greets me as soon as I walk in.

—How’s it going, son?

—Fine —I say, shrugging—. The console, a while at the park, and not much else.

I sit down next to Mateo, who immediately curls up and rests his head on my thigh, too close to my crotch. I stroke his hair.

—And what are your plans today?

—I’m meeting a classmate to do a school project.

My father looks at me with a sly smile.

—You’ve only just started the term and already you’ve got a project? If I didn’t know you, I’d think that was an excuse.

—She’s just a classmate, Dad.

—Sure, sure. But if you like her, go for it.

Carla appears at that moment, says goodbye and lets us know she’s heading over to Iván’s house.

—Use protection, daughter —my father says.

—Dad! —she protests, rolling her eyes.

When she leaves, my father turns to me.

—You too, huh? It’s still early, but just in case.

—Dad, drop it —I look at the TV, uncomfortable—. Thanks.

At half past six Lucía texts me. We set a time in half an hour. She gives me the address and at seven I’m knocking on her door. Her father opens, looking me up and down as if he’s sizing me up. He must approve, because he smiles and invites me in.

Lucía appears down the hallway in an oversized T-shirt and her hair tied back. She lives on the second floor with her parents and a brother a year younger than us. I catch a glimpse of him as I pass by his room.

—Hi, I’m Nico.

—Leave him —Lucía says—. He’s glued to TikTok.

Her brother seems cute. I don’t get a chance to look more. We go into her room and, in the two hours it takes us to finish the project, we talk about everything. Music, teachers, fears, plans. When I leave, she has a different smile.

—That was nice, Nico. I think we’re going to get a good grade.

I blush and my dimples show.

—Yeah, it came out pretty good.

I wait a couple of seconds at the door. Her parents are in the living room, focused on the TV.

—See you in class —she says.

I nod. Lucía closes the door. As I go down the stairs, my chest burns in a strange way.

I liked it. A lot. But I also liked what happened last night with Diego, and I can’t make sense of that. Which of the two did I like more? Is it normal to feel both at once? My phone vibrates. It’s Lucía.

“If we’ve got another project, want to pair up?”

“Sure,” I answer right away.

She reacts with a thumbs-up emoji. I text the group with Diego, Marco, and Aitor.

“Tomorrow?”

***

We meet Sunday in the late afternoon at the mall, fifteen minutes from my house. I tell them about Lucía while Aitor fixes his fringe in a shop window.

—Not bad, asshole —he says—. Before long you’ll be getting some.

—Let’s see him even try —Marco teases.

He mimics the way I talk and all four of us crack up. Marco is the funny one in the group. He came from Italy four years ago, but he already talks like any other Spaniard. He’s got curly hair, green eyes, and a body carved out by all the judo and tennis he does. Aitor, on the other hand, is the boss. The one who decides where we go. Blond, short hair, eyes somewhere between blue and honey. I’ve never seen eyes like his on anyone else.

After ice cream and a while wandering around, Aitor suggests going up to his place. His parents have taken Lola, his little sister, to see their grandparents.

—But just for a bit, okay? At eight I’m kicking you out.

We get to his living room and throw ourselves into a FIFA match. Then we end up sprawled on the floor, hands in our pants doing nothing in particular.

—A group wank would do you good —Marco blurts out—. I haven’t had one in two days and I’m about to explode.

We’ve done it several times already. The first time was when we started high school, with a blanket over all of us so we couldn’t see each other. The last few times, without the blanket, except for Aitor, who never takes it out.

We lower the blinds, put on a video, and settle on the sofa. Aitor at one end, covered with a blanket. Next to him Diego, then me, and Marco at the other end. The three of us pull them out with shy laughs. Still flaccid, but you can already tell Diego’s isn’t like ours.

When we get hard, I can’t help looking at Marco’s. I size it up at around fourteen centimeters, curved to the left, with a bit of hair at the base. Marco lifts his shirt and shows off his abs, defined as always. Diego is already going at it hard.

Then Diego gives me a wicked look, yanks Aitor’s blanket, and covers both of us. Marco glances at us, but doesn’t make a big deal of it.

Diego keeps jerking off, but I feel his hand on my thigh. My breath catches. I panic that the others might see what’s happening down there, but the blanket covers us. Diego’s fingers wrap around me. I let the air out all at once and Aitor looks over at us before turning back to the video.

I return the favor. I can feel him hot and hard, thicker than I’d thought. My fingers brush against his. We look each other in the eye: in on it together.

—Take it out already, Aitor —Marco insists—. We’re among friends, for fuck’s sake.

—Shut up and watch the video —he cuts in, distant as always.

I start thinking he’s self-conscious. Maybe he’s not big. I look at Marco, who is still working away without noticing anything.

—It’s big, right? —he says, pointing at his cock.

—Not bad —I answer, indifferent.

—If you want to touch it, go ahead. I’ve seen how you keep staring at mine, faggot —the insult comes out between laughs, without any malice.

I think about it for two seconds. Maybe this is the chance. I bring my right hand over and he moves his away. Without really knowing how, I’ve got Diego’s cock in my left hand and Marco’s in my right.

—I knew you were a queer —Marco says, amused—. But hey, I’m not judging. If you want, you can suck it too.

—You’re dreaming —I tell him. That would be crossing a line I’m not willing to cross. At least not now.

I keep jerking them both off while Diego handjobs me under the blanket. Marco, all worked up, slips his left hand under and rubs my thigh near my pubic area. The four of us are breathing harder and harder.

Aitor lifts the blanket just in time not to get splashed.

—Oh… —he slows, then stops.

Marco follows. He moves my hand off his cock, but leaves his on my thigh. He pumps himself furiously until he comes all over his stomach. He pulls his hand away a second before Diego and I finish too, almost at the same time. A drop lands right on my lip. I pick it up with my tongue.

—Fuck —Marco says—, best wank of my life. Being touched is fucking insane.

—Don’t get used to it —I tell him—. I don’t even know why I did it.

—Yeah, yeah…

—Pair of fags —Aitor laughs, getting up—. I’m going to clean up. Put everything away, my parents are asleep in here.

***

The week drags by. Lucía looks for me in class. I notice it. She sits close, brushes against me when she passes, looks at me when she thinks I’m not watching. I haven’t talked to her privately again, but something is shifting.

On Friday I text her on WhatsApp to ask about the homework. The oldest excuse in the world. She replies in two minutes, enthusiastically. We chat for a bit and the conversation runs dry. I don’t force anything else.

It’s Diego who texts me.

“You coming?”

We weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow. I send a quick “I’m coming” and ten minutes later I’m at his door. He opens it. The whole house is silent.

—Aren’t your parents home?

—Nope —and he points to the living room with a grin.

On the TV there’s a video of two girls sucking a guy off. He must have hooked the computer up.

—Fuck, so sneaky —I tell him—. You really got a taste for it last weekend.

—I’m not going to deny it —he laughs—. Shall we start?

I don’t answer. I pull my pants down to my ankles. I’m only half-ready, but I’m getting there. Diego takes his off too; he’s hard as a rock. I can feel him trembling. He’s plotting something.

We sit down. Him on my left. He hits play and rests his right leg over my left. He looks at me. I’m the one who reaches over. He does the same. His hand covers almost all of mine.

He jerks me off for a minute without paying attention to the video. He takes in a breath. He’s about to say something.

—Nico —he starts, shy. He stops moving—. Have you…?

—Have I what?

—This week I’ve been thinking… This is fucking amazing, but…

—But what, Diego.

—You’re my best friend —he starts again—. What I’m about to ask you stays here, okay? —he swallows. Three seconds of silence—. Nico, will you suck me off?

I look at him. He smiles awkwardly and lowers his eyes. We keep hold of each other’s cocks.

—Are you sure? —he nods without looking at me. He’s red—. And if I say yes, but only if you suck me off afterward?

Now he looks at me. In the dim light I can’t read what his eyes are saying.

—That kind of grosses me out —he admits—, but I want to know what it feels like.

The video keeps going. Nobody’s paying attention to it.

—Okay —I say, letting out a breath—. I’m going.

I kneel between his legs. He shifts into position. He’s trembling. So am I. It’s going to be the first cock I ever suck, and it’s going to be my best friend’s. Part of me wants to run out of there. The rest is dying to do it.

I feel the cold floor on my knees. I grip his shaft with my right hand; my left rests on the sofa. We look at each other. We smile like idiots.

I bring my mouth closer. After two seconds of taking in what I’m about to do, I take it in. I wrap my lips around it, no tongue yet. It still gives me the creeps.

—Oh… —he sighs right away.

I laugh, more out of nerves than anything else. Diego catches it. I go back to sucking him clumsily. I feel his fingers gently remove my left hand. He wants to see clearly what I’m doing.

He rests that same hand on my head and pushes me down, firm but gentle. I try to open my throat. I can’t take him all the way. A couple of inches are left over.

—Hm… —he moans again.

I smile with my mouth full.

—Holy shit —he whispers, like speaking too loudly would break the moment.

Something swells inside me. I’m giving him pleasure and I like that. I soak his cock in saliva. When I try to draw some of it in with my tongue, he throws his head back and looks at the ceiling. I must have done something right.

I keep going. I try pushing his cock toward his stomach to reach his balls. I give them a couple of licks. Diego laughs, no longer nervous. When I take them into my mouth, I pull too hard.

—Ow! —he complains—. Better go back to what you were doing.

Diego gestures for me to climb onto the sofa. I sit beside him and take him in my mouth again, this time without using my hands, testing it with my lips. He takes advantage of that to wrap an arm around my waist and start jerking me off slowly.

—Ugh… —he groans—. Stroke while you do it.

I do as he says. The base with my hand, the tip with my mouth, everything in rhythm. His glans bumps against my tongue with every downward stroke.

—Jesus, this is insane —he whispers, then gives a short laugh.

I laugh with my mouth full. Every time he says something it all rises in me. I’m about to blow.

I speed up my handjob. He speeds up on me too. His free hand messes up my hair with a tenderness I wasn’t expecting.

—Keep going, bro —he begs in a murmur.

I feel everything at once. His cock in my mouth, mine in his hand, our skin brushing together. We’re one.

Then I explode. I spray his hand with a short burst. Diego warns me, I pull away. He lets go of my cock, grabs it himself, and comes all over his stomach, a thick, white load.

Silence. Only our breathing.

—Ugh… Fuck —is all he says.

A small, nervous laugh slips out of me.

—I’m going to clean up —I announce, standing up.

—Nico —he calls before I can go—. About me doing it…

—Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.

I lock myself in the bathroom. It’s contradictory, after what we just did, but the bathroom is the only private space I’ve got left. I look at myself in the mirror.

What the hell did I just do? This is wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. How am I supposed to look him in the face now?

I come out. Diego has cleaned himself up with paper towels and is sitting on the sofa. He’s lifted the blinds a little. The TV is off.

—Hey, I think I’m going home.

—Why? We still have Clash games left.

—Nah, I’m dead tired.

When I go to leave, he calls me.

—Nico. You okay?

I look at him. He’s just a silhouette in the dim light. You okay? I don’t know.

—Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.

“Bye, bro,” I hear him say when I close the door.

I walk home with my chest burning. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Diego doesn’t feel like this. Why do I? For him it was just a way to pass the time. Why was it more for me?

I don’t like my friend, that much I know. But my chest is beating in a strange way.

My phone vibrates. It’s Diego.

“Dude, you sure you’re okay?”

I leave him on read until I get to my building.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m tired, haha”

He doesn’t reply. I go inside and hear quick footsteps. It’s Mateo, running toward me.

—Nico, Nico! Guess who came over?