Confide/ant - 11. Chapter 11

Hrishi slaps my arse as I pass by the desk and smile as I hand him the glass of water.

“You should be naked more often,” he says in an appreciative tone. “I like it when you’re not so shy.”

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had the desire to put on clothes, but since Hrishi won’t let me wear boxers, and I don’t know if I have any clean sweats, I’ve stayed naked. It’s not like it’s cold in my room. I stand by the big picture window, which looks out over the garden and twitch the curtain aside with one hand.

“It’s raining.”

“No shit. Got any other important observations to share, Marty?”

I glance back at him.

“You have the most fantastic arse.”

Hrishi wiggles his butt at me in response, and I feel my cock jerk and swell softly. It’s been a couple of hours since we had sex, but I know I could go again. Never in all my frequent fantasies had I imagined that anal sex could be so fucking fantastic. Hrishi rode me like some kind of god, demanding my orgasm before I was really ready for it; I loved feeling powerless underneath him. Only after I’d come inside the super tight sheath of his body did he allow me to touch him, and then he groaned and writhed like a snake until our eyes met and he came all over my hand and chest. He told me I was beautiful painted with his cum, and it made me feel amazing.

“What are you doing?”

“Stopping you from failing computing,” Hrishi replies curtly. “After all, class won’t be nearly so much fun if you actually get yourself kicked from the course. “

“Oh, so you like showing me up in front of your nerd friends?” I arch an eyebrow at him, but Hrishi is focussed on the screen. I take the opportunity to sweep my eyes down the smooth planes of his back, which is only slightly hidden by his hair. My hair was a sweaty mess when we finished fucking; somehow, his is still silky smooth and perfect.

“You do make it incredibly easy, Marty.”

“What the hell have you got in common with them anyhow?”

Hrishi flips me off with one hand still typing with the other.

“Cerebral conversation? OW!” Hrishi scowls and whips around, because I’ve just thrown my journal at him clipping him on the shoulder. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I am not stupid, Hrishi!” I’m not shouting, but my voice is tight with anger. “You keep pretending I’m thick as shit, but you’re the one who’s here spending time with me. No one forced you.”

“Certainly not you…” he mutters.

“And what, exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, rock star.” Hrishi’s use of my pet name does nothing to soothe the acid in his voice. “You’ve had a go at me for not sticking up for myself, but you’re the one too scared to come out to his friends. I suppose you don’t fancy being pushed around like us geeky low-lifes, but you’re still letting yourself be shoved in the closet.”

“I don’t have a choice!” I don’t want to think about how quickly my life will dissolve if my parents find out their son is anything less than perfect.

“You could choose to be a stronger person than you are now,” Hrishi snaps.

“Right back at you.”

“Fuck you, Marty.”

“It’s not my turn,” I growl as I step forward. For the smallest moment, uncertainty wavers across Hrishi’s perfect features, the anger in his eyes warring with a mix of lust, fear, and desire. He stands just in time not to fall to the floor as I yank my desk chair out from underneath him. I sit down heavily. “Go back to your damn code.”

“Technically,” Hrishi keeps his voice deliberately light, “it’s your code.”

“I can’t fucking read that. Is that Java?”

“Have you been asleep for the past year?” he sounds incredulous. “We’re on compliers, you can’t use a scripting language. This is C plus plus.”

“Teach me?” I offer.

“And where am I supposed to sit?”

I arch an eyebrow at him, my grin smug and self-confident. We both flick our eyes to my lap and the ready length of my erection in unison. Hrishi doesn’t say anything, but simply walks to my nightstand, grabs another condom and the lube. I ready myself as he bends over my desk, fingers already back on the keyboard, tapping away with a speed I find rather intimidating. I can transition from chord to chord faster than Leon, but I have no idea what's flowing out from Hrishi's fingertips. I spread lube over my latex covered cock and take his hips in both hands, guiding him onto my lap firmly.

Hrishi gasps, his fingers stilling on the keyboard as I breach him, and I can feel his chest heaving. I bring him down until my whole length is buried in the tightness of his body; with his balls resting on mine, I pull his knees apart then over my thighs and spread my legs. He moans suddenly, tries to pull away, but my fingers are hard at his waist, keeping him pinned. The sensation of being surrounded by Hrishi's body is one I am entirely certain I'll never get used to.

"Keep typing," I growl in his ear as I shift my hips, rocking inside him a tiny bit deeper than I have before. "Or am I being too distracting?"

"You cocky bastard."

I reply by shoving my dick so far inside him I can no longer form words, and Hrishi gasps, gripping my desk with both hands. I spread the perfect mounds of his arse, push gently at him to raise his body away from my cock a little, and then bring him down again with a groan of my own. He feels fucking fantastic, and the sight of my cock sliding in and out of his dark flesh makes my toes curl.

"No wonder nothing you write ever works." Hrishi gasps in between words as I continue to fuck him, my pace steady and slow. "You haven't separated your comments or used any semi-colons."

"Are they important?" I ask without caring. I can see the screen over his shoulder, but I'm far more interested in the bobbing length of his untouched erection. Every time I plough into him his dick twitches invitingly. There is a bead of clear precum at the tip; as soon as I see it, I want him more.

"Every line... ungh... has to end with one." Hrishi is putting a lot of effort into keeping both hands on the keys. I kiss his shoulder, bite without force at the smooth joint of his neck, and bury my nose in his hair. I love the way he smells. "Look."

I force my eyes back to the computer screen, expecting to not understand anything, but there, in the command line of my code, is something I can comprehend.

touch(me);

I obey him instantly and am rewarded with Hrishi's high-pitched moan of pleasure. I've never heard him make that sound before; he's been far too busy telling me what to do. And he still is.

if(Hrishi.MoaningFrequency() <= perSecond(1))

{

Marty.increaseStrokeSpeed(10);

}

I chuckle in his ear and move my hand along the length of his cock, smearing precum down his length, and pumping my fist in time with the short thrusts of my hips. I spread my knees further as Hrishi thumps the desk with one hand and groans something which might have been my name. I bring him back against my body with a hand splayed over his chest, and he growls.

"Am I doing well?" I purr as he grabs my hair painfully hard, bringing my lips down onto his shoulder once more. I keep my eyes on the screen as he types one handed.

Marty.stampWith(hickey());

I bite him hard, sucking on his skin until my tongue tingles and his moaning is more pain than pleasure. I continue to jack his cock, tilting my hips to reach his prostate with my dick as I pull up enough blood under his dark skin to leave him with a bruise he'll wear for weeks. I look up as he leaves his comments in my code.

Marty.stampWith(hickey()); //good boy

Enough typing. I pull him away from the computer, lean back in the chair bringing him with me, and use the new angle to piston myself again and again into the tight sheath of his arse. Hrishi grips my forearm hard enough to leave crescent shaped welts in my skin, and holds tight to my hair as I pant against his neck. I am so close, but I want to make him come first. I jerk him furiously, my whole body tense, my arm a blur, and then he's gasping my name, snarling as I place my fingertips against his slit. His body clenches around me like a fist. Hrishi comes in my hand, thick and warm, and as I raise my arm to taste him, he snatches my wrist and shoves my fingers down his throat.

I gasp, caught completely off guard. Though I know it's only my hand he is sucking on like his life depends on it, the thought of him tasting his cum on me, and that I'm filling him up in every way I can, makes me lose all self control. I thrust into him once, twice, and come in the space between heartbeats, groaning wordlessly against his skin, and holding him as tight as I can against my flesh. The details of him: his long silky hair, strong back, the dark bruise on his shoulder, his perfect arse impaled on my cock, and the way his legs quiver as they drape around my own, sear themselves into my mind. I am never going to be able to forget this image as long as I live.

We pant in tandem for what seems like forever then Hrishi shifts his weight, and I inhale in shock and sensation as he pulls himself off me. He reaches between his legs to remove the condom from my spent member and then drops it in the bin as he settles himself down once more on my lap. I wrap my arms tight around his ribs being careful not to squeeze too hard. His pulse hammers against my skin; we’re still both breathing too fast. Hrishi rubs my thigh gently then scoots us both forward and begins to type like I hadn’t just interrupted his coding to fuck him thoroughly.

I can’t help myself and burst out laughing.

“Shut up or I’ll leave the comments in,” he threatens gently. Once his attention is back on the computer, I kiss the nape of his neck and smooth my hands over his shoulders and back. After a few passes he is purring softly. “Mmmmm…. I forget, sometimes, how good you are with your hands.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” I mumble.

Hrishi twists in my lap and kisses me soundly. I love the way he tastes.

“You also have the world’s most enormous shower.” He presses a few buttons on the computer, and it starts to do something complicated looking. “It’ll take a while to compile. C’mon Marty.”

I cannot argue as he takes my hand and drags me towards my bathroom. Having a long shower together, sounds like an excellent idea.

*

“Try this.”

“What is it?”

“A pakora.” Hrishi rolls his eyes at my suspicion of the new food. “Delicious vegetables deep fried in spicy batter. You’ll like it.”

I arch an eyebrow at him, and he sighs.

“Not spicy like the chilli was. I promise.”

“That was mean.” I actually had to venture into the main house to get a four-pint of milk and drink the whole thing to stop my mouth from throbbing painfully. At Hrishi’s command, I took my clothes off as soon as I returned.

“Sorry.” Hrishi gives me a small smile, leans forward and plants an open kiss on my lips. It’s the best apology I’ve ever had. I take the morsel from his fingers with my tongue and chew thoughtfully.

“It’s good.”

“Try one with the pickle.”

The pickle is even better. I grab a naan bread and get to work demolishing the remaining pickle until Hrishi grabs it away. We fight good-naturedly over the food discovering that lime pickle flavoured kisses are equally awesome. Trading more food and kisses until there is nothing left, Hrishi is perched practically back in my lap tracing oily fingerprints on my chest.

“Do you shave?”

“Huh?”

“You must do. No one has such smooth skin….”

“You do.”

“I’m Indian, I’m just blessed.” Hrishi plays with my fringe, rocking it backwards into a little quiff, which doesn’t stay put. “You’re really beautiful, Marty.”

“You’re being nice to me.” I frown gently at him, but rub the pad of my thumb over his lips. I like him being nice to me, but I know how quickly we both dissolve into argument. “It’s... different.”

“Good different?”

“Yeah.” I lean forwards to kiss him, but my lips miss his. Hrishi is gazing over my shoulder. I turn to see the Baby Taylor and my journal lying on the floor. “Hrishi?”

“Hmmm?”

I love the way he sounds distracted, so I lick the deep bruise I’ve stamped him with.

“Would you like me to play for you?”

“I thought you weren’t a self-centred rock star?”

“But you said you kinda like that,” I muse softly.

“Yes please.” Hrishi extracts himself from my arms, stoops to pick up my journal and is about to take the Baby Taylor by the neck when I stop him.

“Not that one. Get the Epi.”

“Huh?”

“The Epiphone hummingbird,” I sigh, “the red one. No, no, the other red one.” I jerk my head to the left indicating my favourite acoustic guitar, which Hrishi brings to me, leaving the candy apple red Stratocaster I never play any more hanging on the wall. “Come back and sit with me.”

I love the way Hrishi is small enough to fit into my lap and still allow free access to the strings as I pin him against my chest with the guitar across his front. He doesn’t try and touch the strings, just curves his fingers under the glossy wooden body of the guitar, caressing the curves gently as I sing for him. I like my voice this way, soft and smooth, without the raised volume of the microphone and the amps, and I strum each chord in time with our out of synch heartbeats. I never thought I’d sing to someone like this, singing about him unashamedly while he sits in my lap. It’s not a love song, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

I’m preparing to pluck at the strings in the space between the last verse and the final chorus when I’m distracted by a soft sound. I glance up from my perfect view over Hrishi’s naked shoulder to the body of my guitar, and find Leon standing in the doorway: absolutely drenched, guitar case in hand, mouth gaping.

“What the actual fuck?”

“Oh shit!” I wonder how much of Hrishi is covered by the Hummingbird. Enough not to be indecent, but it’s way too obvious; we’re both naked.

“FUCK!” Leon shouts properly this time. He’s still rooted to the spot, staring at us, and I’m really not sure how either of us could move without making the whole situation worse. I wish I could hide behind Hrishi’s hair while I try and figure out some sort of explanation, which doesn’t end up with my best friend swearing at me and never speaking to me again.

To my intense shock, it’s Hrishi’s voice, which resounds calmly across the room.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“What?” Leon’s snap gives away his temper, but Hrishi doesn’t even flinch.

“If you’d be so good as to just walk back the way you came, we can both get some clothes on in privacy.”

“Fucking hell, Marty.” Leon gapes at me, but now I actually am hiding behind Hrishi’s hair. “Marty!”

“Just… Leon, seriously, turn the fuck around or something will you?”

My oldest friend and bandleader’s huff of annoyance is palpable. Hrishi takes the guitar gently from my hands and strides across the room, still completely at ease in his skin. He gathers up his clothes and returns to kiss me where I sit.

“I’m going to go take a shower. OK, rock star?”

“Er… yeah.” I snatch up my sweats as Hrishi closes the door to the bathroom, and yank one of our band t-shirts on over my head as Leon spins back to face me. He glares after Hrishi.

“Fucking faggot.”

“Hey!” I snap at him, “don’t call him that.”

“It’s fucking true though.”

“Shut the hell up, Leon. Or are you going to say that to me next?”

Surprisingly, Leon shuts his mouth and wanders over to my desk collapsing heavily on my desk chair . I decide it’s best not to tell him what we’ve already done on it.

“You and him?”

“Yeah.” I wonder if Leon is being dense deliberately, or has his brain actually just bleached what he witnessed from his memory.

“Are you…?”

“You just walked in on me naked with another guy,” I remind him coldly. “That might be the world’s most pointless question.”

“I….” Leon drops his guitar case on the floor with a very loud thud. He’s never careless with his instruments. “I….” No other words make it past his lips, and he turns and walks out into the pouring rain once more. I stare after him until Hrishi returns fully dressed and steaming softly.

“He’s not alright, is he?”

“No.”

“You OK, rock star?”

“Don’t know,” I reply without meeting his eyes. “He’s my oldest friend, Hrishi.”

“You’d best go fix him then. I’m going to call myself a cab.”

“Hrishi….” I don’t want to face the idea of him leaving, but I don’t know if I can divide my attention between the pair of them.

“Don’t sweat it. See you Monday.”

I wait long enough to watch Hrishi leave, swept away into the rain, then walk through the torrential downpour to where Leon sits in partial shelter under an ornamental weeping willow. Years ago I gave Leon a code for the gate though he doesn’t always use it, and I wonder if my phone was on silent, or if I was just too distracted to notice my best friend trying to contact me. I sink down in the grass beside him and lean back against the rough trunk, being careful not to let our shoulders touch.

“You know,” I begin gently, “we could have this conversation indoors where it’s not so wet.”

“Marty….”

“We probably could have handled that better, but I didn’t figure on you walking in like that either.”

“Marty.”

“And he’s rude to everyone, don’t take it personally-. Ow!” I drop my sentence mid flow as Leon punches me hard in the shoulder with one bony fist. “What was that for?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“About Hrishi? Shit, dude… I don’t think there is even a word for what we are to each other.”

Leon rolls his eyes and scowls.

“Not him. Why didn’t you tell me about you? That you’re gay.”

“Oh….” My heart sinks like a bass beat. I’ve hated lying to him about a lot of things, but this is something I’ve kept from everyone. Leon is still waiting for an answer, looking disappointed in me, and I snap.

“Well, why do you need to be such a homophobic jerk all the time?”