What My Best Friend and I Did in the Fitting Room

Marco comes back to the room a couple of minutes later. He seems calm, almost indifferent.

—He’s not going to say anything —he assures me—. I’ve got him properly threatened.

I keep my gaze fixed on the ceiling, trying to process everything.

—He won’t. But not because of your threat. Your brother’s a good kid.

Marco lies down beside me. His left leg hangs off the edge of the bed. Speaking to the ceiling, he blurts out:

—Saúl, what happened earlier was brutal.

I’m surprised by that honesty, by the confidence with which he says it.

—Yeah, it was good. What do you think, Marco?

—About what?

—I don’t know, this. Doesn’t it seem… kind of gay to you?

He hesitates for a few seconds.

—Well, I think we’re just trying things out. Right? —I don’t answer—. Why do you say that?

—I don’t know, I feel weird. I liked it, but we’re friends and it’s really strange.

—Precisely because we’re friends, we have the trust to do it. That’s what I think. And fuck, man, the way you suck dick. I really wasn’t expecting that. My dick got hard just remembering your mouth.

I swallow. The bluntness of what he says catches me off guard.

—Shut up, asshole —I laugh, even though I can feel my face heating up.

I look at him for the first time. He’s still staring at the ceiling.

—Thanks, Marco. You helped me with something —I think of Cris as I say it—. But I’m going to head out. We’ll watch the episode another day.

He nods and we slap hands. I leave the room and run into Liam, his younger brother, in the kitchen. He looks at me with a furrowed brow, though he tries to hide his discomfort with an awkward smile.

—Hey —I say, walking closer—. We were just… let’s say, having fun.

—It doesn’t matter —he answers immediately—. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting it.

I ruffle his hair affectionately and slap his hand. I open the door to leave.

—By the way —he adds, laughing—, good blowjob, bro.

He makes me smile. I’m relieved that his attitude toward me hasn’t changed. When I get home, all I can hear is the TV. My father is watching a movie, with Leo asleep on his lap. My sister Sofía seems absorbed in her phone. I say hello and offer to carry Leo up to his bed. When I gently lay him on the mattress and tuck him in, he barely opens his eyes.

—Saúl? Hi… —he murmurs sleepily.

—Hi, little guy.

—How was it with your friends?

—Good. Very good. I brought you to bed, okay?

—Thanks. I love you…

—I love you too, Leo —I kiss him on the cheek—. Me too.

***

I wake up to a message from Daniela on my phone. She says good morning and sends me a photo of a Spanish homework exercise to ask if mine is the same. I reply that it is and we start chatting. She asks me about the weekend, I ask her about hers. She met up with her friend Lucía on Friday and went to the movies with her family on Sunday. We send each other stickers, complain about the Civics teacher and about how much of a drag it is to sit in a chair for six hours straight.

The rest of Sunday drags by slowly. The new week arrives and Cris is acting weird. He avoids me, or at least hardly speaks to me. I decide to give him space. My talk with Marco helped me understand that what we did was no sin, but maybe Cris, who at first didn’t give it much importance, is now turning it over in his head and getting confused.

The days go by normally. Daniela comes closer a couple of times and our relationship grows without me even noticing. We still aren’t fully close, but I feel more and more comfortable with her.

Marco keeps treating me the same. Hugo, on the other hand, seems to have realized that something is going on between Cris and me. He looks at us strangely, but he doesn’t intrude on our privacy: he doesn’t ask, respectful as always.

That weekend I go to my father’s village in Asturias. It’s a small village, but I’ve got a good little group of friends there whom I see four or five times a year. In a way, they’re my escape route.

I tell them about my little adventures with Daniela and, with Iván, my best friend there, I open up and confess my doubts about my sexuality. Well, they’re not exactly doubts: I know what I like, but I don’t know what to do with what I feel.

Iván, as usual, answers me with maturity. He’s a year older than me, and since we were kids we’ve shared too many moments that only someone with a village understands. He tells me he hasn’t done anything yet, but he’s clear that he likes girls. Even so, he tries to give me good advice.

—I think it’s normal for you to have doubts —he begins—. But that’s the beautiful part, right? Discovering what you like, how you feel, how other people feel… I don’t know, that’s how I see it.

I smile a little.

—Iván, you’re a machine.

He laughs and we keep talking, sitting on the bench in the square.

***

The following week ends September. With October’s arrival, Cris comes up to me in the schoolyard. It’s Thursday, it’s raining, and the day is dark.

—Hey —he greets me, a little uneasy.

—Hey. —Marco and Hugo are wandering aimlessly around the yard.

—Saúl, I’ve been thinking about it for days —he begins, agitated—. I don’t want to lose my friend over something stupid. You left so suddenly I thought I’d fucked up.

His eyes are sincere. Cris never lies with his eyes.

—It was my fault, don’t stress —I apologize—. I didn’t know how to process it at the time. But everything’s fine, really.

He smiles, though with a hint of sadness.

—Saúl, you’re my best friend. Do you remember when I broke my leg and had a cast on for a month? —I nod, remembering what happened three years ago—. Marco hadn’t been in the group very long and Hugo was much colder back then. You were the only one who came to see me at the hospital. And for me, since I don’t have family here…

I lower my gaze to the ground. Cris has opened up to me before, but never this deeply.

—It’s true, how messed up your leg was —I answer, trying to take the weight off the gesture. I feel embarrassed to be flattered so directly—. I came to see you, yes. But I was only giving back what you did when my mother died. The first week you came to see me every day. I was prickly and barely paid attention to you, but you still came every day. I’ll always owe you one.

He hugs me and whispers a “thank you” in my ear.

—That said —he speaks again once we part—, as far as I’m concerned we can do what we did the other day again.

We smile at the same time, both of us knowing we want it to happen.

***

Friday arrives. We meet up to go to the shopping center in the neighborhood. The four of us are there and that always makes me happy. The first thing we do is go into a clothing store.

—I’ve been looking for a jacket for two weeks —Marco announces—. One of those denim ones, but that keeps you sort of warm.

Cris takes the opportunity to buy something too. He needs pants, so he grabs the first pair he likes and heads into the fitting rooms. I go after him.

—Let’s check the store across the way —Hugo says, leaving with Marco.

Cris goes in and tries on the first pair of pants. He opens the curtain while I check my phone. I watch how they fit him.

—I’d say one size smaller —I say—. Want me to get it?

He thanks me for it. When I come back and pull the curtain aside, I see him putting on the second pair. They’re down around his knees.

—Close the curtain, asshole —he says to me. Without thinking, I step into the cubicle almost on instinct.

He finishes pulling them up and I make a “they don’t look bad on you” face.

—But I like the first pair better —he says.

He pulls his pants back down again. His underwear outlines a good bulge, the fabric stretched over a dick that’s already starting to wake up.

—Come on —he asks me, almost in a whisper.

—You’re crazy, bro —I answer, amused—. There are a ton of people here.

Sure enough, voices can be heard in the fitting rooms next door. Cris arches his eyebrows, mischievous. I shake my head, but I still kneel and my hands go to work. I tug at the fabric of his underwear and reveal his cock, half-hard, hanging heavy and hot in front of my face. He laughs and rests his hand on my head.

—Go on, I know you want to —he whispers.

I look up at him, trembling with excitement. It doesn’t take me long to take him into my mouth. I pull it all the way out, spit saliva onto the head, and swallow it again, this time to the hilt. Cris stares at the ceiling; he’s in heaven. I can feel him growing at an unstoppable pace until I can’t fit all of him anymore. I suck him with more skill than the first time, licking the tip with my lips pressed tight, letting the drool slide down the shaft to his balls. He lets out a long sigh and covers his mouth with his wrist so he won’t moan.

Outside, people keep trying on clothes. I put my hand in my pants and touch myself, making my dick grow little by little between my fingers. Cris presses my head against his abdomen and forces me to take him until I feel the head hit the back of my throat. I cough discreetly, eyes watering, and keep going. I can’t swallow him all the way, but there’s less meat left over than last time. I lick his balls, run my tongue along the shaft from bottom to top, kiss the swollen head. When I take him out of my mouth, his cock is soaked in saliva, shining under the white fitting-room light.

—Fuck, fuck… —Cris pants through his teeth—. If you keep going I’m gonna cum right here.

—Hold on, asshole —I whisper, smiling with my lips pressed to his head.

Gathering my courage, I stand up. Our faces are so close that his gasps and mine cross between us before ending on each other’s lips. We laugh at the same time.

—Your turn —I say, almost pleading.

Cris tilts his head. He’s not convinced, but he feels indebted. He drops to his knees, slowly pulls my pants down, and my cock shoots out, smacking him in the nose. I burst out laughing. Cris looks up. Fuck, what a sight. My best friend about to suck me off, his lips red and shiny with his own saliva.

—If the others saw us…

—If I told you —I say, regretting it instantly.

—Why?

—Nothing, nothing. Come on —I insist, resting my hand on his head.

I apply a slight pressure. Cris opens his mouth and takes my cock in. He’s completely inexperienced: it’s the first time he’s sucked a dick. At first he goes carefully, barely taking the head in, timidly running his tongue over my frenulum. Far from slowing me down, that turns me on even more.

—Take more of it, you’re not going to break it —I murmur, pushing his head.

He obeys and swallows half the shaft. He soaks my rod and saliva drips from his chin to the floor. I hold his head, the way Marco did with me at his house, and start fucking his mouth without mercy, but clumsily. I feel my balls hit his chin a couple of times. Cris coughs, tears spring to his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away. I fuck his throat with short thrusts, biting my lip so I won’t moan. Every time I push my cock to the back of his throat, I feel his throat contract around the head.

—Fuck, fuck, like that, suck it like that, damn it —I whisper, beside myself.

Cris looks up at me with glassy eyes, a string of drool hanging from his lip to my cock. He’s gorgeous like this, with my dick in his mouth and his face flushed.

—Saúl? —Hugo’s voice is then heard in the distance—. Are you in there?

—Shit —murmurs Cris as he stands and hurriedly pulls his pants up.

I do the same. I tuck my cock, still hard and dripping, back into my underwear. We wipe the saliva from our mouths.

—Yeah —I answer loudly—. I’m with Cris, he can’t get his pants on.

I open the curtain while he finishes buttoning up.

—How do they fit? —he asks, blushing.

Hugo frowns.

—You’re beet red, bro.

—Fuck, it’s just that until you came in…

Hugo looks at me, still irritated, not buying it. Cris pays for one of the pairs of pants and we leave. Marco is waiting outside, absorbed in his phone. We wander around the shopping center. Afterwards we head out to some small hills nearby. Lying on the grass, we enjoy the silence and the company.

***

—Want to grab a snack? —Cris asks a while later.

—I’m up for it —Marco replies—. Want to get a McFlurry?

—Too lazy to get up —Hugo says—. You guys go, I’ll wait here.

—Same —I join in—. Get me an Oreo one.

—Fuck off —Marco complains, getting up—. You’ve got some nerve.

Hugo laughs, amused. Cris and Marco walk off talking. Still lying on the grass, Hugo looks at me. He’s thinking about something.

—Saúl, can I ask you something?

I swallow. I think I know where this is going. Hugo has always seemed to me the most observant, but also the most distant.

—Go ahead.

—What were Cris and you doing in the fitting room? —I look away—. And don’t lie to me, because I’m not an idiot.

I sigh, trying to buy a few seconds. I can’t think of anything.

—Promise me you won’t say anything —I ask him.

—Fuck, Saúl, it’s like you don’t know me.

—Okay, sorry. Remember the last handjob we gave each other at your place? What I did with Marco… —he nods—. Well, something like that.

—Something like that?

—Yeah, a bit more. You know.

—Wait —he sits up, propping himself on his elbow—. You guys… sucked each other off?

I nod, embarrassed. Hugo looks ahead. He touches his crotch, maybe without even realizing it.

—Hugo, this can’t get out of here. Cris will kill me.

—Relax. And with Marco?

I lower my head.

—Well…

—Don’t fuck with me. But do you like guys?

For the first time, I look him in the eyes.

—I don’t know. Well, yes —I correct myself—. I like them, but girls too. It’s weird.

Hugo falls silent. When he speaks, he smiles in a strange way, almost sly.

—Saúl, it’s okay. Really. We’re friends, aren’t we? —I nod and he smiles—. Then that’s that. Thanks for trusting me. Seriously.

He says it with a strange tone, as if something inside him is moving that even he doesn’t understand. Cris and Marco come back with the ice creams.

***

We spend the afternoon wandering around. We head back to the shopping center around ten at night, have dinner at Burger, and spend half an hour at a table playing Brawl Stars and watching TikTok. Hugo has been thoughtful all afternoon, as if he’s still mulling over my confession. I’ve caught him looking at the others several times. Suddenly, he puts his phone down and opens his eyes wide.

—Hey, hey —he asks for silence—. I’ve got an idea.

We look at him, expectant.

—Feel like playing hide-and-seek in the shopping center?

—What? —Cris asks, stunned—. This place is huge, man.

—My dick is huge —Hugo replies, joking.

—No going into stores. That’ll make it easier.

—Could be really fun —I say—. We’re just sitting here anyway.

—Besides, it’s late and there’s hardly anyone left —Hugo adds.

Cris and Marco look at each other, then agree with a gesture.

—You’re it —Hugo orders me.

I complain, but as always, whatever he says goes. I count to fifty and head off to find them. My phone buzzes. It’s Hugo.

—Come to the storerooms.

A shiver runs down my spine. What is he thinking? I don’t care, I don’t think twice, and I head for the storerooms we discovered months ago, behind a door next to the bathrooms. Inside there’s almost no light: a corridor branches off into several paths. I hear a “tch.” I follow it and, after a corner, come face to face with Hugo.

—Took you long enough, huh? —he says, mocking me.

—What do you want? —I ask, bluntly.

—For you to jerk me off —he replies, firm. He sees me frown and continues—. I’ve been hard all afternoon because of you, asshole —he laughs—. I’ve been thinking about it and I want to… know what it’s like.

I lower my head, half hurt and half angry.

—You’re an idiot. Do you think I’m some kind of whore or what?

I’m about to turn around when he grabs my arm.

—Saúl, sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that —he locks his eyes on mine. Lowers his voice—. Really. If you want, I’ll start —he suggests, bold.

That throws me off. Hugo has always been the cocky guy who gets his way. Girls drool over him, the soccer team idolizes him. For him to swallow his pride and offer to be the one who starts is something I can’t quite understand.

—What…?

—Never mind, forget it —he cuts me off, looking away.

—No, no. It’s just that it surprised me. Fine —I agree.

We meet each other’s gaze again and he smiles slightly. My heart is pounding a mile a minute. I arch my eyebrows, suggestive. Hugo slowly pulls his pants down, as if he thinks he’s committing a crime. When they drop to his ankles, he laughs nervously.

We look at each other. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I’m about to see Hugo’s dick for the first time. The light from an emergency bulb illuminates his naked legs. Beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs, a normal bulge is visible.

At last he takes off his underwear. His member, pale-skinned and nearly hairless, points forward firmly. It isn’t especially long, similar to mine. What’s really surprising is its thickness: it’s the thickest dick I’ve seen in person. I swallow.

—What —he says, breathing faster, as if challenging me.

—Not bad —I try to joke—. A handjob, then?

—Whatever you want… —he answers, opening the door to something more.

Whatever I want. I get down on my knees. The cold floor seeps through the fabric of my pants. I start by taking hold of his cock: it feels heavy and burning in my palm. I pull back the foreskin and reveal his glans, fat and violet, shiny as if a drop of pre-cum is already crowning it. I run my thumb over the tip and a gasp escapes him. The dim light is enough for us to see each other without being caught.

Hugo is breathing hard. I feel my heart trying to burst out of my chest. I speed up the handjob, closing my fist around that thick shaft, sliding up and down with the skin pulled tight. He braces his hands against the wall and stares ahead.

—Now this is the life —he whispers, and we both laugh, conspiratorial.

—And this? —I ask.

Summoning my courage, I lunge to swallow that dick. I can barely get it into my mouth: it’s too thick. I manage it by sheer effort, opening my jaw so wide it hurts. My tongue trails along the shaft with difficulty, feeling every pronounced vein.

—Hmm… —my friend moans weakly.

He starts a slow rocking motion with his hips, fucking my mouth slowly. I stay still and let him take control. He speeds up and I feel my teeth scrape his skin, by accident. He complains and I try to open wider, relax my jaw, let him push in without obstacles. He grabs my hair with both hands and increases the pace, taking my head as if it were a cunt. Saliva builds up until I can’t keep it from spilling out of the corner of my mouth, falling to the floor in thick threads. Hugo’s dick is soaked, shiny with spit from base to head.

—In the end you are going to be a little slut —he whispers, heated.

And this time, instead of getting mad, I get even hornier. I can feel my dick straining against my pants, throbbing to get out. I feel like I could cum without touching myself.

—You like it, huh? —he keeps going, amused—. You like dicks, don’t you? Well then, take this, take some dick.

He pulls his cock out of my mouth and yanks my hair back, making me open my jaw. He tells me to stick out my tongue. When I do, he smacks his shaft against it, slap, slap, leaving a shiny trail of drool and pre-cum. I discover that this, far from annoying me, turns me on like crazy. I ask for more with my eyes, and he smiles smugly and keeps slapping my face with that thick cock.

—There, there —Hugo is really turned on—. Eat, little slut, eat. Open that mouth for me.

I open my mouth again and take him all the way in. I feel his head hit the entrance to my throat, unable to go deeper because of its thickness. I breathe through my nose, try to swallow, try to let him in a little farther, and all I get are choked gags. When I pull him out, a string of thick spit connects my lips to his glans. Hugo laughs.

—Fuck, how you suck it, kid. I’m gonna cum soon.

—Warn me —I ask, my voice hoarse.

He smacks my face again with that cock that now seems immeasurable to me. My own saliva coats my forehead, my cheekbones, my cheeks. I feel dirty, filthy, but I’m enjoying myself like never before. He licks his own fingers, puts them in his mouth while he puts me in his, makes a cocktail of spit and smears it on my chin. I pull my pants down a little and take my hard, dripping cock out, and I start jerking myself with my free hand while I keep swallowing him. Hugo helps me half stand up. I think he wants a turn, but when I try to pull his dick from my mouth, he stops me.

—No, no. You keep going.

Half-crouched beside him, Hugo grabs my cock. His hands are cold, but I don’t care. He starts jerking me off firmly, fist clenched, setting a brutal rhythm, while I keep sucking him. He spits into his hand and keeps going, and the wet friction tears a muffled moan out of me with his cock still in my mouth. My phone sounds with a message, then another. It must be Marco and Cris. I ignore them. Hugo and I are in a trance.

—Keep going, bro. I’m almost there…

—Mm-hm —I nod, his cock still in my mouth.

It’s very lubricated. I can’t take him all the way, not because of the length, but because of the thickness. I pull out and suck his balls, one by one, taking them into my mouth, teasing them with my tongue. While I do that, I jerk him off quickly with my hand, using all the saliva that’s built up so his cock slides between my fingers.

—God, that feels so good, man —he whispers—. The way you lick my balls, damn.

I lick his perineum, go back up the shaft with the tip of my tongue, return to the head and take it in fully, closing my lips around the swollen cap. I suck hard, with suction, until I feel his legs tense up.

The storerooms bear witness to our secret. He grabs my head again and guides my mouth to his cock. Then he starts jerking himself off with his left hand while, with his right, he keeps masturbating me too. I feel like I’m about to explode. His fingers clamp around the head of my dick and twist, twist, playing with the foreskin, and I bounce my hips searching for more friction.

Our breathing quickens. His balls bounce like little balls with every shake. I feel his skin on my tongue, his fingers on my cock. Then he pulls my face away and jerks himself off alone, faster, his hand a blur over that thick, shiny dick. I look at him and see how he closes his eyes, how he bites his lip. He’s going to cum.

I grab his member, pushing his hand away. He still has mine in his other hand, stroking me nonstop, torturing my head with his thumb. We look at each other. I feel his breath on my face.

—Oh… Ah…

—Hmm…

From our cocks, almost at the same time, come as many as four spurts that fall to the floor. The first from Hugo hits my wrist, hot and thick; the rest splash onto the tiles with a wet sound. Mine come out at the same time, shaking me all over, tearing a muffled moan from me that Hugo silences by covering my mouth with his free hand. He keeps stroking me to the last drop, milking my cock as if he were wringing me out. When I take my hand away, I carry a couple of drops of his semen with me. Without Hugo seeing, I bring my fingers to my mouth. It tastes bitter, salty, thick, but I don’t dislike it.

—Damn, kid —Hugo comments, already exhausted, his cock still out, half limp and dripping—. What a trip. —And he laughs weakly.

I laugh with him. We promise not to tell anyone. I check my phone: it was indeed Marco and Cris asking where we were.

—I can’t find you —I reply—. I’ll wait for you in the bathrooms.

Hugo and I get dressed. He seems somewhat dazed, but his cocky attitude from earlier has left me shaking with desire. When we get to the bathrooms, Marco and Cris still aren’t there. They arrive half a minute later, together, talking about an Instagram video.

—Jesus, Saúl, you’re really clumsy —Cris says.

I scratch the back of my neck, embarrassed, and make an excuse. And there, in the solitude and silence of the bathrooms, I think about how lucky I am to have this group of friends.