Best Friend’s Secret - Part 5

All Characters Are 18+

Oliver stepped out, still flushed, expecting Brad to be there waiting. But all he saw was the empty bed, sheets tangled and damp, and the unlocked front door that had just closed.

——————

Brad hadn’t answered Oliver’s texts in several days. No gym, no casual hangouts, no late night memes…nothing. Oliver tried to tell himself he wasn’t surprised. The way Brad bolted after that night said enough. Still, it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

So when the knock came late one night, Oliver half expected it to be his neighbor or some beggar asking for money. Instead, when he opened the door, Brad stood there swaying, the smell of whiskey rolling off him.

“Dude,” Oliver said, stepping aside automatically. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Brad stumbled in, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I was at the bar. Down the street. Drank too much…figured I’d, uh, sleep it off here. That cool?”

Oliver shut the door, crossing his arms. “What about the past few days? You ghost me, then show up drunk at my door like nothing happened?”

Brad went quiet, avoiding his eyes.

Oliver sighed, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I shouldn’t have let things get that far the other night. It’s my fault. I just…I don’t wanna lose my best friend over this. I don’t care if we never talk about it again, I just want…”

He was still stuttering when Brad walked right up and kissed him.

Oliver froze. Then, before his brain caught up, he kissed back. Just as quickly, he broke away, breathless. “You’re drunk. We shouldn’t.”

Brad shook his head hard, eyes glassy but serious. “No, listen. I didn’t run out because I hated it. I ran out because I liked it. Too much. Scared the shit out of me.” His words slurred, but his meaning was clear. “I needed time. And tonight, I finally admitted I want it again. I just…needed a little liquid courage.”

For a second, Oliver only stared. Then he reached up, grabbed Brad’s face, and kissed him harder. They stumbled toward the bed, shirts yanked over heads, jeans hitting the floor. Brad’s cock was already standing tall when Oliver pushed him back onto the mattress and dropped between his legs.

Oliver sucked him slow, using all the lessons Brad had given him about pressure and pace. He kept at it until something felt wrong. Brad’s hips had gone slack. His cock softening. Oliver glanced up and saw Brad’s head slumped against the pillow, mouth half open. He was out cold.

Oliver sat back, shaking his head with a faint laugh. “Unbelievable.” He crawled up beside him, pulled the blanket over them both, and let himself fall asleep in Brad’s arms.

⸻

Several hours later, morning light cut across the room. Brad blinked awake, throat dry, head pounding. The first thing he noticed was Oliver curled into him, face pressed tight against his chest. The second thing was how good it felt. He tightened his arm around him, almost without thinking.

Oliver stirred, voice groggy. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Brad muttered back. His lips curved into a smile before he could stop it. Then guilt hit, and he added, “Sorry for showing up wasted. And for…passing out on you.”

Oliver pulled back just enough to look up at him.

“I meant what I said though,” Brad continued quickly. “Even drunk. I just didn’t know how to say it sober yet.”

Oliver’s expression softened. He leaned up and kissed him once, then again, and again, until the small pecks turned into something deeper. Brad’s tongue slid past his lips, his hand sliding down Oliver’s back.

Oliver swung a leg over, straddling him. Brad’s cock thickened fast, pressing against Oliver as they ground together. Brad groaned into the kiss.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “I’m ready. I need you.”

Oliver lifted himself just enough to line Brad up, then sank down onto him slowly, both of them shuddering. Brad clutched at his hips, eyes locked on Oliver as he rode him.

The pace started steady, Oliver bouncing in smooth rhythm, Brad’s cock sliding deep into him. Their moans filled the room. Brad’s hands roamed up Oliver’s chest, gripping his shoulders, guiding him down until their chests were pressed together. Brad lifted and began to thrust up, meeting each drop of Oliver’s hips with hungry, sharp snaps of his own.

Sweat slicked their skin. Oliver’s moans climbed higher until he was gasping, body tensing. “Oh fuck, Brad, I’m gonna…” His words broke off into a scream of pleasure as his orgasm ripped through him, clenching tight around Brad.

Brad held him still for a second, letting him come down, before resuming, slower at first. Then harder, faster. Their mouths crashed together again.

The room filled with the sound of breathy moans, skin slapping together, and for several minutes, neither cared how loud they were being because the pleasure was worth the risk of being heard.

“I’m…fuck…I’m gonna cum,” Brad groaned, voice ragged.

Oliver braced his hands on Brad’s chest, bouncing harder. “Do it. Cum in me.”

Brad’s whole body jerked as he exploded inside him, moaning loud enough the neighbors probably heard. He clutched Oliver against him, riding the waves until he collapsed back into the mattress.

Oliver eventually slid off, wincing at the warm spill leaking from him, and trotted off to the bathroom. He peed, cleaned up, and braced himself before opening the door, half expecting Brad to be gone again.

But when he stepped out, Brad was still there, sitting up in bed, waiting, eyes on him.

Oliver’s chest tightened with relief. He grinned wide. “You’re still here.”

Brad smirked, patting the spot beside him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Oliver’s smile turned into a laugh as he jumped back into bed, tangling himself in Brad’s arms again.

They lay enmeshed together, Brad’s chest pressed to Oliver’s back, both of them still catching their breath. Brad lazily rubbed his hand over Oliver’s stomach before breaking the quiet.

“You think I should’ve worn a condom?” he asked, half joking. “We’re way too young to have a baby, man.”

Oliver let out a laugh and rolled onto his side to face him. “You don’t have to worry. When I had top surgery, I had everything else taken care of too. No baby factory here.”

Brad’s lips tugged into a grin. “Good. I hate condoms.”

Oliver arched a brow. “Noted.”

There was a small pause before Oliver asked, “So…how are you feeling after that? Honestly.”

Brad stretched onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Good. Better than last time. I’m not freaking out. I don’t know exactly what this means for me yet. I mean, I’m straight…or was straight…and literally having sex with another guy, so I don’t know what that makes me now, but I’m not afraid of it anymore.”

Oliver nodded, propping himself on an elbow. “That’s the point of a spectrum. You don’t have to label yourself just to enjoy what feels good. You’re allowed to just…exist where you are.”

Brad looked over at him and smiled faintly. “Yeah. I like that.” They kissed a few times, slow and easy, the kind of kiss that said more than either of them could put into words.

Oliver rested his forehead against Brad’s. “I’ve missed you the past few days.”

“I missed you too,” Brad admitted. “I switched to night workouts just to avoid running into you while I was sorting my shit out. Workouts sucked though. Didn’t have my gym bro to push me.”

Oliver smirked. “You want to go now?”

Brad laughed. “I would, but all I’ve got are the clothes I wore to the bar last night.”

“Then you can borrow some of mine.”

They dragged themselves out of bed, Oliver tossing Brad a pair of shorts and a shirt. They fit tight across Brad’s chest and thighs, but they worked. While Brad tugged them on, Oliver grabbed his kit, prepped his testosterone, and gave himself his weekly shot. Brad watched curiously but didn’t ask questions, just nodded like it was routine.

Soon enough, they were in the gym hitting legs. Brad stood behind Oliver as he squatted, spotting him closely. His chest brushed Oliver’s back, his hands lightly guiding his ribs. After a few reps, Oliver laughed and racked the weight.

“You gotta control your man,” he teased, glancing down at the bulge in Brads groin.

Brad snorted. “Not my fault. You’re basically sitting in my lap over and over. What do you expect?”

Oliver scanned the room and saw that everyone else was wrapped up in their own sets, then reached down and gave Brad’s cock a quick squeeze through his shorts. Brad gasped, eyes going wide, but before he could say anything Oliver let go.

“Your turn,” Oliver said, smirking.

Brad rolled his eyes. “You’re a goddamn tease.” He stepped under the bar and knocked out his set, stealing a glance at Oliver every time he came up from a squat.

After a few more exercises, they decided to call it. The locker room wasn’t empty this time, but Oliver tilted his head toward the showers. “Here again?”

Brad scanned the men around them, lowering his voice. “If I get naked with you right now, there’s no way I’m staying soft. Let’s just go back to yours.”

So that’s what they did. Back at Oliver’s, they stripped and stepped into the shower together. Warm water poured over them as they traded the soap back and forth, scrubbing each other down, hands lingering in ways that weren’t strictly necessary. Oliver started to crouch, ready to take Brad into his mouth, but Brad stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Let me,” he said.

He sank to his knees, water dripping down his back, and buried his mouth between Oliver’s legs. He licked and sucked, circling his swollen clit with his tongue. It was bigger than he remembered. More like a tiny cock…and Brad treated it like one, taking it into his mouth and sucking. Oliver moaned, bracing a hand on the tile, legs trembling.

Brad slid two fingers inside him, curling just right while his other hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking slowly. Oliver’s hips rolled against his mouth, his voice breaking as his orgasm tore through him. He gasped out Brad’s name, clenching tight around his fingers.

The sight and sound sent Brad over the edge. He groaned, pumping faster until his load splattered hot across Oliver’s feet.

They both laughed breathlessly as the water washed them clean.

After rinsing off, they stepped out and wrapped in towels. Oliver glanced at the clock. “What time’s your first class?”

“Eleven,” Brad said, grinning. “But screw it. We should both skip today. Make up for the last few days apart.”

Oliver tilted his head, smiling. “That sounds perfect.”

They kissed again, slow and deep, before disappearing into the bedroom to get dressed for their day off together.

Thirty minutes later, Brad parked outside a little sushi spot off campus, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as Oliver unbuckled. They’d both skipped classes, spent the morning tangled in sheets and shower steam, and now their stomachs had caught up with them.

Inside, they slid into a booth by the window. Oliver scanned the menu, biting his lip.

“You ever notice how all the rolls sound good until you actually have to pick one?”

Brad smirked. “That’s why I pick fast. Otherwise I’ll overthink it and starve.” He pointed at the spicy tuna roll. “Easy choice.”

Oliver finally settled on a rainbow roll. When the food came, Brad dug into his plate and nodded at Oliver’s. “Let me try that.” He didn’t wait for permission, just snagged a piece with his chopsticks.

“Rude,” Oliver muttered, though his smile gave him away.

Brad chewed, eyes widening. “Okay, that’s better than mine. Trade me a piece.”

Before long, their plates were sliding back and forth across the table. Oliver ended up trying the spicy tuna even though he swore he hated spicy food, and Brad ate half the rainbow roll despite claiming he wasn’t into avocado. It felt easy, like they’d been doing it for years.

When they left, Brad suggested the movies. They bought tickets for an action flick and sank into the plush seats. Between them was a cup holder divider. Brad fiddled with it for a second, then lifted it out of the way and scooted close, their thighs pressed together.

Oliver glanced at him with raised eyebrows.

Brad didn’t explain. He just reached over, found Oliver’s hand, and laced their fingers together in his lap. His pulse spiked at the boldness of it…holding hands in a theater, other people scattered around, but he didn’t let go. Oliver gave his hand a squeeze and kept his eyes on the screen.

Neither of them shifted for the next two hours.

Walking out into the parking lot afterward, their hands still joined, Brad felt lighter than he had in days. At his car, he stopped Oliver with a tug, pressing him gently back against the door. Before Oliver could ask what was wrong, Brad leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t rushed, just steady, his hand braced on the door beside Oliver’s head.

When they broke apart, Oliver whispered, “So…what’s next?”

Brad tilted his head. “Ice cream?”

Oliver grinned. “Hell yes.”

They drove to a little shop and each ordered a cup…strawberry for Oliver, cookies and cream for Brad. They sat at a small table outside, the late afternoon sun warm on their faces.

Oliver eyed Brad’s cup. “Yours looks good.”

“Should’ve ordered it then,” Brad shot back.

Brad scooped a spoonful of his cookies and cream and held it up. Oliver leaned forward, lips closing around the spoon, and hummed like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. When he pulled back, a smear of ice cream clung to the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve got…” Brad gestured.

Oliver wiped the wrong side. “I get it?”

Chuckling, Brad shook his head. “Nope. I’ll get it.” He swiped his thumb over Oliver’s lip, then instead of pulling back, pressed his thumb against Oliver’s mouth. Oliver parted his lips and sucked lightly before letting it go.

They locked eyes, both smirking, both pretending the sexual tension wasn’t at an all time high. They finished their ice cream with more stolen bites and quiet laughter.

Back in the car, Brad said, “It’s getting late. We should head back.” He paused, then added, “I need some clothes though. Why don’t we stay at my dorm tonight?”

Oliver nodded without hesitation. “That’s fine.”

Back in Brad’s room, they stripped down to their boxers and climbed into his bed. The sheets smelled like his detergent, a sharp, clean scent that made Oliver smile. They lay side by side, close but not tangled.

“Today was perfect,” Oliver said softly.

Brad turned his head to look at him, the corners of his mouth curving. “Yeah. It was.”

They shifted closer, knees brushing under the blankets, and let the quiet settle in around them. For the first time all week, they both felt content.