zuuble

Tord has been acting strange around me. He's normal with the other two (fine with Matt, bitchy with Tom), but he does not want to speak to me. He looks... Sad? When he looks at me.

It sucks. Bickering is fine, fighting sometimes is fine — even when we end up in the hospital, but this silence is intolerable. I miss him, a lot, even though we live together.

And so, after a few days of tolerating this, I ask him directly. We were alone on the living room, on the same sofa.

“Is something wrong, Tord?" I say. “You've been odd lately."

“I'm fine" he mumbles.

“That's bullshit, and you know it.” I call him out on the lie. Why the hell would he be lying anyway?

He presses his lips, he looks uncomfortable, but this is something that needs to happen if we want to still live together amicably.

“You're not gonna make fun of me?" he asks.

“Of course not!” I scoff. I know, usually I would mock him, but if it's getting him this worried, then I won't. For now, at least.

He looks at me as if he's going to start sobbing. “I'd been fantasizing about you."

...that's it? All of this melodrama for that?

I know he fancies men, he's too reactive to the idea of someone else being homosexual to be straight, and I've heard him multiple times jacking off to gay porn.

“What do you mean?" I ask. Not gonna lie, I am curious about these ‘fantasies’ of his, considering how hentai takes a good chunk of his brain power.

“Can't say. It's embarrassing“

“Nah, it can't be awful" I know him. I know what he likes. It's not going to be extremely weird, or gross. Worst case scenario, it's something physically impossible.

Tord wipes away the little tears that escaped, it's... Honestly a bit scary, seeing him like this. He never cries, less in front of someone else — I'm sure I've only seen him like this once, back when we were teens, and he thought his hard drive died. I guess he is truly embarrassed by it.

“Sometimes you were jerking me off with your chest, or you'd let me fuck it, or... Or you would let me suck on them until dry, ‘n shit like that.”

He does not look at me as he confesses. Honestly? It's just slightly weird, with how fixated he is with my man boobs (they are not pecs, unfortunately, they're too saggy for that). Besides that, yeah, I could believe he'd use that to satisfy himself. And I wouldn't mind making one or two of those ideas a reality.

I would say in general fucking your best friend makes it really weird, but that does not apply to me or him. I've seen worse from him, letting him cum in my chest is nothing.

But first things first, he's terrified, and I need to calm him down before he starts sobbing.

So, in what might not have been a good idea, I take his hand, and guide it under my shirt, so it directly touches one of my tits.

Tord is horrified, worse than before, his face turns pale. One of his fingers is reaching my nipple, which it's basically begging for someone else to mess with it. His hand is sweaty, warm, and shaking in place.

He can't speak, he chokes with his own words, pretty sure half of them aren't English words.

“What?" I ask.

After a moment of being incoherent, he calms down enough to say “T...they're soft.“ he squeezes, gently. “So soft"

“Aw~ Thanks! I grew them myself!" I thought it would be funny to say that. Tord snorted, so I'm guessing it was.

He calms down, his face is no longer sickly pale, thank God. I'm sure he can feel my heart beat, with his hand right there—

Then, the fucking asshole flicks my nip, and looks amused when I yelp at that.

“Didn't know they were sensitive." he says, as he keeps playing with it, flicking it with his fingers.

His other hand lifts my hoodie, so both of my tits were exposed. The one nipple he was messing with had hardened, and was slightly more pink than the other. I'm sure the tone it’s because of him, from the irritation of it being yanked.

Tord watches for a moment, just staring at my fat, hairy chest. If I didn't know better, I would have said he was jealous, but he's obviously in awe of them. He explores more, weighting each of them in both hands, gently massaging them with his fingers.

Suddenly, he stops, taking his hands away from me. “Got carried away, sorry" he stammered.

Then, I finally notice. There's a clear bulge in his pants, squeezed between his thighs. Since we're already being gay enough, I don't have any issues stating that it looked tantalizing. It had the perfect size; not too thick nor too long, yet still a bitch breaker in its own merits.

He notices that I noticed, and so he does probably the only logical thing: run away. I hear his bedroom door slamming, so he either will try to live down the shame... Or jerk off.

Which I realize is also something I'll have to do because my crotch has been aching ever since his hands were on me.