Awake with Jake Pt. 02

Do you see what I mean? For that matter, do I see what I mean?

For fuck's sake, what the hell had we just done?

I stumbled over to the door and clicked on the light.

Marcus was still kneeling on the bed, recovering himself from what had clearly been an overwhelming orgasm.

"Fucking hell, Marcus," I muttered. "We just had sex, mate."

He looked up at me and smiled. Actually smiled!

Then he said, "Yeah, that means we're boyfriends now."

"Fuck off!" I snapped. "We just had fucking sex! Don't you feel... I dunno... like maybe we shouldn't have?"

He shrugged and reached for his discarded socks. "Felt pretty good at the time, Jake. It's not like it was serious. Just the two of us being curious, I guess."

He wiped the cum from his torso using his socks. Even in my suddenly anxious state, I felt pleased that I wasn't the only guy who did that.

I walked over to the clutter of my desk and grabbed some tissue, and then wiped the cum from my own chest. I noticed his cock was already shrivelled and flopping down over his bollocks: mine still drooped outwards at half-mast looking nearly as big as it did when it was stiff.

"Do you want me to go, mate?" he asked. "I'm not that drunk any more - I can walk back to my place if you'd prefer me to."

I shook my head. "Don't be a prick, Marcus. I'm just a bit freaked out but it'll pass. It's like one minute we were just having a laugh - pissing about together - and the next we were... well..."

"Yeah, I know," he nodded. He stood up and pulled his orange boxer trunks back on. "I don't know why I'm not freaked out myself - it was my first time at doing stuff like this too, mate."

I think that was the first time I wondered if it actually had been. I didn't say anything but just followed suit and pulled on my briefs.

"I can sleep on the floor," he offered. "I mean, if you'd be more comfortable with that."

I sat down on my bed and looked over at him. I felt the guilt that had so suddenly come over me start to ease almost just as quickly. He was just a lad, like me, who'd got himself more deeply involved with a mate than he would ever have intended.

"Don't be daft, mate," I said. "It's not I think you're gonna try to take my innocence in the night, is it?"

"There's not really a lot of that left to take," he observed.

I chuckled and we got back into bed together. I was now able to put on more of a chilled-out front, but the agitation I'd felt was still there niggling at me, making me feel that I'd just done something I'd always regret.

"How did you feel about it afterwards? That first night, I mean." my dad asked, as if reading my mind.

"A bit fucked-up to be totally honest," I replied. He winced at my use of the word 'fuck'; even after what we'd just been discussing, he still wasn't comfortable with hearing me swear.

"It took me ages to get to sleep; I kept going over things round and round in my head. I couldn't believe what I'd just done and kept thinking that it must signify something deep and meaningful, if you know what I mean."

"I know exactly what you mean," my dad nodded, finishing the last of his whiskey.

"It's kind of weird though," I went on, "because by the next morning I'd pretty much got it sorted in my head, but then Marcus started getting all freak-shit about it... by then I was the one having to calm him down."

My dad looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and then announced, "I think, though, Jakey, that that part of the story is going to have to wait. It's getting very late and we're going to Buxton tomorrow morning. I don't want to be too tired, or too hungover, for the drive."

"I can drive us if you like," I suggested brightly. "We can put the 'L' plates back on..."

My dad smiled. "Not on those narrow country roads. We'll go out for some practice during the holiday, I promise, but not tomorrow."

I finished off my beer and stood up, reaching out for his empty glass.

"I'll sort out down here," dad said, "you go up to bed."

I yawned. I was quite tired, even though I'd slept until nearly eleven that morning.

"We'll have to get you a double bed," he went on. "Your room is big enough to take it - just - and it'll be much better now you're bringing your... er... friends home with you."

I thanked him and said goodnight, and then went up to bed.

It was going to be a squeeze sleeping with Marcus in the single bed I'd had since I was a kid but we were now pretty used to it. After our first night of sex, and once we'd talked things through the next morning, we'd started staying over with each other most nights of the week. As we both had single beds, we'd quickly got used to sleeping in close contact with each other and I actually enjoyed - looked forwards to - sharing a bed with him.

I'd slept with a few other lads since that first night, of course, but I found them more difficult get comfortable with than Marcus. They were always elbowing and kneeing me during the night, or getting horny and poking their jeb-ends into my side. Now, more often than not, after having a bit of dick fun with a guy I'd make the walk back home or suggest that he slept on my floor with a spare blanket over him.

As I undressed in the dark so as not to wake Marcus, the wedge of light from the hall spreading out like a searchlight across the mess of the room, I saw that he was sleeping on his side, facing the wall. That was how I liked him; facing away from me so I could snuggle up behind him and put an arm over him. I could press my face into his hair and nuzzle my knob into his butt-crack: that was how I really liked to be with him.

It had been different that first night - we'd slept on opposite sides of the bed and hadn't touched each other at all in the night. It was bizarre that after the incredible sexual intimacy we'd just enjoyed, we spent the following few hours getting as far apart as the single bed would allow. I think we were both kind of clinging to our edges of the mattress as if we were trying to prove to each other that we weren't in any way 'gay' for each other: we were just two lads forced to share a bed for the sake of convenience and we weren't even going to accidentally brush our legs against each other in case it could be misconstrued.

The next morning, though, brought us firmly back together and it was then that we became, I reckon, as sexually close as two guys can be.

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To be continued.

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