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This was the first time since they’d known each other that Miles had heard Beckett say those words.
“Thanks for the suggestion, but going out in the rain and wanking is probably not a good idea,” Miles said.
“I don’t mean go out in the rain,” Beckett said.
“Oh.” Miles’s heart rate picked up as he was struck with the image of his legs spread, stroking his dick while Beckett watched. What kind of expression would Beckett wear? Would he be bored? Mildly interested? No, he wouldn’t watch at all. He’d turn onto his side, close his eyes, and pretend not to hear.
“I couldn’t,” Miles said.
It might have been a trick of the darkness, but he swore Beckett reddened. “Okay. You don’t have to. I’m just saying, you can if you want to.”
“Of course I want to,” Miles said. “But that’d be awkward.”
“I already said it’d be fine,” Beckett said, irritation creeping into his voice. He must have been annoyed that he had to keep repeating himself, but Miles couldn’t resist going into detail about why it was a bad idea.
“You’d hear me. I mean, I’d try my best to be quiet, but you know how sometimes you accidentally—” Miles squeezed his eyes close. “Forget it. You probably don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“Why wouldn’t I know?”
“Do you even jerk off, Beckett?”
“Yes.”
“You do?”
“Of course, I do. I’m a twenty-year-old guy, Miles.”
“You jerk off?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“You’re right, it’s not surprising when I actually think about it. But…I’d gotten it into my head that you weren’t really into that stuff. Sometimes I’ve wondered whether you’ve ever had a sexual thought in your life.”
Beckett stared at him.
“I mean,” Miles began, needing to explain himself so he didn’t sound crazy, “you never talk about sex, or dating, or hooking up, or any of that. You never point out attractive people. Back in first year, every time I even hinted at those kinds of topics, you’d clam up. I wondered whether you’ve got a religious thing going on, even though I know you’re not religious. Or whether you were asexual.”
“I’m not asexual,” Beckett said.
“Oh. Okay.”
Beckett rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe you thought I’ve never touched myself before.”
That phrase, touched myself, sent shivers up Miles’s spine and reminded him about his very rigid cock.
“I’m sorry,” Miles said. “I know it’s weird I was speculating about it. Not that I was doing it in a creepy way, but, I don’t know, the idea of you…it just seemed so totally foreign to me—”
“Miles,” Beckett interrupted in a tone of voice that was sharper than usual.
Miles went meek. “Yes?”
Instead of saying anything, Beckett looked down. Miles followed his gaze and, after a second of hesitation, pulled the sleeping bag away.
He saw the bulge of his own erection first. Then he looked at Beckett’s pants.
It took Miles’s breath away. Beckett was hard—Miles could see the long, fat length pushing against the thin plaid fabric. He could even see the curve of the tip.
Beckett spoke. “Hopefully this proves that I—”
