To himself.
“I’m not gay.” He repeated, “I’m not even bi. I’m not into guys.”
“I know that.” I reiterated, “I’m not either. But we’re best friends, Eli. We’re on a tricky road right now, dating the same woman. Focusing on working together and making her happy. Maybe that’s why it felt so powerful. But either way, I felt it too. And I’m not at all stressed about what it means, other than I want to do it again. Because we all fucking liked it.”
He dropped his shoulders and thought it over before finally replying, “So what do we do now?”
I looked through the sliding glass door and saw Frankie picking up some toys off the coffee table. “We go inside. We continue to lead with our hearts, and keep open lines of communication along the way.” I held my hand out to him as a form of an olive branch. “We talk through what we’re thinking, in real time, and work through it.”
He scoffed, though it felt forced, but I could tell he was trying to relax into what I was offering him. “You sound very mature allof a sudden,” He took my hand and shook it, but didn’t release it right away. “You’re good for her.”
That felt like a gut punch because I could feel the words he wasn’t saying after it. “And so are you.” I forced him to hold my stare. “We’re both good for each other too, so don’t even think about walking away now. I won’t let you. We keep showing up for her. And them. Maybe for each other, too.”
He pushed me and took a sip of his beer, “As if I’d let you have her all to yourself,” He smirked, looking past me to where Frankie was inside. “I’m kind of obsessed.”
“Same,” I turned and watched her brush her hair off her face and then look for us, finding us both in the window. “Fucking obsessed.”
The heatin their eyes made something in my stomach clench. Something low, somewhere that had gone dormant over the years of loneliness. To feel their desire so aggressively after feeling so unwanted for so long, fucked with my good sense.
“What were you talking about?” I asked, hoping they’d tell me the truth, tell me what had been building between them all evening in silence.
Travis looked at Eli before walking to me and kissing me. It wasn’t soft or chaste, but for him it was short. All too soon, he pulled away and sat down on the couch, spreading his massive tree-trunk thighs as he settled into the cushions.
“Tell her.” Travis stated, and I shot a quick glance over at Eli in question.
Anxiety built in my gut, crowding out the desire I’d felt moments ago as something gnawed at me.
Eli smiled at me, but it didn’t warm me the way his smiles usually did, and my own fell. God, was this the end of everything? Already?
“Something happened earlier,” Eli said, taking a deep breath, and my own shuddered in my lungs. “Something when we took you together on the couch.”
“What?” I whispered, confused, playing the whole encounter back through my head trying to remember everything that happened. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Travis inserted, and I looked over my shoulder at him, and his penetrating stare did what it always did—made me feel like he could read my mind. He wrapped his big hands around my waist and pulled me into his lap, kissing my temple and holding me close. “Something between Eli and me.”
“What do you mean?” I stammered, “I was there, I don’t understand.”
“I touched him.” Eli blurted out and then scrubbed a hand over his face and circled the coffee table to sit down on it, facing me. He ran his hands over my bare knees, and I threaded my fingers through his as I tried to ground myself with them around the fear in my gut. “When he was fucking you.” Eli closed his eyes and shook his head, squeezing my hand. “It felt like I crossed a line, and I thought he was mad, and I got in my head and fucked with my own thoughts and fears until I was onthe edge of throwing myself off a cliff in embarrassment.” He smiled, but it was sad. “So, we were talking about it.”
“I don’t understand.” I whispered again, looking over my shoulder at Travis and then back to Eli. “What do you mean you touched him? We were all touching,” I chuckled lightly, trying to add some humor into the tense room. Travis’s hands rubbed up and down my hips as I talked. “That was the point, wasn’t it?”
“I could feel him,” Eli said, pushing on even though I could tell he was uncomfortable. “Every time he bottomed out inside of you, I could feel him against my dick. And I didn’t hate it. And I also didn’t understand it, but I got wrapped up in it all and then I?—”
“You—” I worried, “You what?”
Eli swallowed but didn’t answer.
“He touched my dick,” Travis filled the gap, “When I told him to spread you open for me.”
I thought back, in the height of my ecstasy, to Travis telling Eli to show him where he was fucking me. I remembered the way his fingers pulled my pussy open while Travis drove me over the edge time and time again.
“Which crossed a line.” Eli said shamefully.
“It also pushed me headfirst into a massive orgasm.” Travis stated plainly, and Eli groaned, dropping his head.
“Not helping, man.”
“I’m man enough to admit it,” Travis shrugged, and I smirked at him and the supportive way he was handling his best friend’s feelings. Watching him take care of Eli warmed my heart in ways I didn’t know was possible.
