Page 37 of If the World Was Ending

Hunter nodded. “Please.”

So right there, in the bathroom, soaking wet and in the middle of a heatwave, Colby slipped his thumbs into the waistband of Hunter’s underwear and pushed them down his thighs. Once Hunter’s cock was exposed, Colby wrapped his hand around Hunter’s shaft, which gave Hunter goosebumps everywhere. No guy had ever touched his actual dick, skin-on-skin, before. It was… different. It was good.

Colby squeezed Hunter gently in his hand and moved his thumb over the slit of his cock, smearing it through the pre-cum. Colby was moving his hand in an exploratory, careful rhythm, like he was trying to figure out how to do something he’d probably done to himself more times than he could count. Their foreheads pressed together as they both watched their hands move over each other.

“Fuck… why is this so fucking hot?” Colby asked.

Hunter had no answer. This was gonna-blow-way-too-soon level of hot. His whole body felt like it was being licked by fire, and Colby was breathing like he’d run a marathon directly after a triathlon. Colby’s dick was leaking now, so Hunter made sure to coat his fingers in his pre-cum, so his hand slid more easily. Colby stepped closer, impossibly closer, and now their heads were on each other’s shoulders, and the tips of their cocks bumped, and Hunter’s knees nearly gave out. He’d never had his dick touch another dick before, and he wasn’t expecting the sparks in his belly and the flush it brought to his cheeks. “Jesus fuck. Oh God… Harder. Please.”

Colby complied, and then he bucked his own hips wordlessly, asking for the same. Hunter tightened his grip and picked up his pace, but he was erratic, his looming orgasm pulling his focus. Colby didn’t seem to mind. “Hunter… I’m gonna…”

Hunter’s eyes grew wide as Colby’s fingers dug into his shoulder, and his cock erupted over Hunter’s knuckles. A noise sprang from Hunter’s throat. It might have been a moan, and then he came too. Hard.

Hunter let go of Colby’s cock and reached for the vanity to brace himself, so he didn’t fall down because he didn’t trust his knees. Colby’s hand disappeared from Hunter’s cock, which now sagged against the underwear still bunched up under his balls.

Colby unsteadily bent down and grabbed the toilet paper. He handed a wad to Hunter wordlessly and grabbed a second bunch for himself. They cleaned up in a heavy silence that felt thick with confusion and maybe, god, this sucked, but… embarrassment? Regret? Hunter couldn’t tell. It was not a great feeling, whatever it was. Colby tossed the toilet paper in the toilet bowl and grabbed his towel off the floor. “I’m gonna try to sleep.”

“Yeah. It’s late,” Hunter said, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say?

With the towel cinched around his waist, Colby slipped out of the bathroom, leaving his shorts in a wet clump on the floor. Hunter had no idea how to handle this. He’d never read the What to Do After You Jerk Off Your Friend manual.

Hunter yanked up his underwear and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were glassy, his skin flushed, his hair still damp. He could still feel the weight of Colby’s cock in his hand, and it contrasted, in a way that twisted his gut uncomfortably, with the weight of Colby’s actual physical absence.

Hunter left the bathroom and stepped into the short hallway. The living room was through the archway in front of him. The bedroom is to the right. Everything was dark. Hunter walked out into the living room and saw Colby curled up on the sofa, his knees bent and face toward the back. “Colb?”

Silence.

“Colb, please.”

“Don’t do this.” Colby’s voice was small but urgent. “Don’t give me some bullshit excuse like we were so high or maybe we have heat stroke. Just go to bed, Hunter. Please. You can pretend it never happened in the morning. I will too.”

Hunter moved closer to the couch, clipping the small end table with his shin and biting back a curse. “Is that what you want?”

“What I want? I want to make you as comfortable as possible so you don’t kick me out or never talk to me again,” Colby replied and turned his head so he was looking toward Hunter, but Hunter couldn’t make out his face. It was still too dark. “Because I want to keep this friendship. Above all else.”

Hunter lowered himself into the space behind Colby’s bent knees. “If you think I’m going to freak out, I’m not.”

Colby’s face tilted a little more, and Hunter could see his eyes were squeezed shut. “No offense, but you freak out over less.”

“Ouch. But yeah. My anxiety can be…crazy, I guess.” Hunter paused. “But not with this. I want to stay friends too.”

“You’re gonna melt down. I know it. This is like…it’s a big deal. You’ve never?—”

“But I have.”

Colby’s eyes flew open, and he even propped himself up on an elbow and waited for Hunter to elaborate.

“A dude in high school. I mean, it wasn’t this… but it was close. I didn’t freak out then, and I won’t freak out now.”

Colby didn’t say anything more than a very soft “Oh.”

“Yeah. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, like, you’ve become my best friend,” Hunter remarked and tried not to feel embarrassed by it. “I need you. Who is going to yell at Marge if I don’t get a call back or whatever?”

Colby laughed tentatively. “I need you too. Your couch is a godsend.”

“See? This isn’t ruining anything. We can’t afford to let it.” Hunter smiled, and when Colby smiled back, he had an insane urge to lean in and kiss him. But of course, he didn’t. “I gotta get my beauty sleep. In case Marge has more auditions for me.”

“You’re gonna end up calling her Marge to her face,” Colby laughed because it was a nickname he’d given Hunter’s agent, Margo, and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be happy about it.