Confide/ant - 3. Chapter 3

I sleep badly overnight Friday to Saturday, unable to let my mind settle on any one decent fantasy so I can bring myself sexual closure, if nothing else. I send Hrishi my address, and he simply sends a text saying he’d be there at eleven. Nothing else, no sign off, no explanation, and certainly no row of little x’s and o’s. I spend the morning cleaning up my room as much as I can without arousing suspicion, clear the browsing history on my computer – because I certainly don’t want Hrishi finding out I’ve been trolling porn sites searching unsuccessfully for guys who look like him – and make my bed with fresh sheets. I have no idea what Hrishi is planning, but I’ve already decided I’m not going to let him control me this time. This is my house, my room, and my territory. I plug my Telecaster into my twenty-watt silver jubilee Marshall amp, and I’m riffing along the chords Leon scrawled when my phone interrupts me.

“And how the fuck do I get into this fortress you call a house?”

Hrishi doesn’t waste time on pleasantries, that’s for sure.

“Jeez, where are you? Look, don’t ring the main gates. I’ll buzz you in, head to the left and I’ll meet you.”

I do as promised, and catch Hrishi around the arm just as he’s about to pass my door. When my parents built the east wing, I thought it strange I had my own door, but now I barely use the main foyer of the house; it’s only there so mum and dad can make a proper first impression on people and awe them with their apparently perfect family home. I yank him inside, close the outer door and gesture for him to follow me.

“It’s this way.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re sneaking me in ‘round the back way?”

Apparently, I’m not sneaking in around his back way for a while. I scowl in response.

“It’s not like anyone is in, anyway. I just can’t be bothered to reset the alarms in the main house just so you can use the damn front door.” Neither of my parents’ are home, but every time the main buzzer is pressed, it records video of the event, and I don’t fancy trying to explain Hrishi with his overly long hair and perfectly pressed Capri pants to my father later on.

“Oh, poor little rich white boy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not today.”

I glare at him. I’m so sick of this game of hot-cold cat and mouse. I jab his shoulder as he enters my room, kick the door shut, and pull his skinny frame around to face me.

“Why the hell are you even here Hrishi? If you’re so desperate to prove you’re better than me, then you could just let me fail. Then you wouldn’t have to bother spending time with me.”

“Stop being a whiny bitch, Marty. I found an excuse to get us together, because god forbid someone from your pack of emotionally immature friends sees you associating with the likes of me.” He pauses long enough to look around my room, and I know he’s taking in the many instruments, the scale of an area big enough to contain a king size bed and a large corner sofa without feeling crowded, and the door which opens out to my own bathroom. “After all, I’m just some nerd, right?”

“I never said you were a nerd.” Not when he could hear me anyway. “I’m not exactly the coolest guy on campus myself.”

“You’re a fucking guitarist!” I don’t know if Hrishi means to, but the awed tone in his voice gives me an instant shot of confidence.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Sure, whatever.” Hrishi rolls his eyes, and begins to move around my room. I’ve left the white Telecaster on the bed, the amp humming softly. I reach over to turn it off, and he steps casually past me. “Fuck, I forget there are really people this rich. It’s like being on a television set.” He glances over at me, one eyebrow arched quizzically. “I expect you’ll tell me this isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either, huh?”

It really isn’t, but I don’t bother to explain. He’s not far enough away to be out of my reach as I sit on a low wooden stool, so I simply reach out, grab him hard around the bicep and pull him into my lap. He ends up straddling my thighs. My automatic reaction is to spread my knees and force him to sit in my lap. I run my other hand up under his hair until I find the back of his skull and bring his lips to mine. The first kiss is nothing special, just a soft press of lips, and then I open him up with my tongue. Suddenly we’re both eating each other up, kissing hard, each trying to invade without ceding territory. His hands are locked around my neck, and I let go of his arm to smooth my fingers down his spine. The motion makes him curve against me, and I can feel the heat of his crotch through our clothes.

When I tug his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, he gasps – unexpected, shocked, suddenly sounding innocent – and it makes me feel like a fucking god. I walk my fingertips up the furrow of his lower back, smoothing over his flesh, and I make him moan again. Like playing a guitar, there have to be places on his body which will produce even sweeter noises than just plucking at the strings. I let my hands drift lower and squeeze his arse appreciatively.

“I’m not doing that with you.” Hrishi breaks our extended kiss to gaze at me levelly, his straight, dark brows drawn low.

I groan. I’m hard as a fucking rock, and I can tell Hrishi isn’t far behind.

“Then what the hell are we doing? I can’t fucking work you out, Hrishi.” I frown at his expression as I realise what I’m reading in his face. “And you like that you confuse the shit outta me, don’t you?”

He takes my hands and presses them over the heat of his crotch with a smug grin. Small, ultra-smart, and geeky he might be, but Hrishi knows exactly what his body wants and he’s not shy about getting it. I’m so turned on I would probably come right now if he told me to. I start opening his fly, hoping the shaking of my fingers isn’t too noticeable.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Marty.” How Hrishi can keep his voice steady and level whilst I place tentative fingers against the head of his cotton covered cock is beyond me. “Not if you’re not willing to call out your so-called friend’s on their Neolithic attitudes.”

“Seriously?” I kind of want to put his cock in my mouth, but I’m not sure about asking. Instead I slide his underwear down at the front. He’s not embarrassed now, lifts his hips slightly, and I scoop his cock and velvet soft, oven warm balls into my palm. “Is that what you want to talk about right now?”

“Well look who found his sense of entitlement,” Hrishi grins and hauls my shirt off over my head. “Oh fuck, Marty….”

“What?”

“I forgot how beautiful you are.” The compliment makes me freeze with surprise and uncertainty, and Hrishi growls, rocking his hips into my hand. “If it helps, I’ll swear at you again instead.” He presses two fingers against the bruise on my arm with a grin. I wince, sucking air in between my teeth. “Oh, poor baby.”

“I’m gonna have to tell people I got in a fight or something,” I mutter. I wrap my fingers around the hard length of Hrishi’s cock and take the time to really look at him properly when there isn’t water streaming into my eyes. He is compact and beautiful, flawless brown skin with only a light dusting of hairs around his cock and balls. He must shave his chest, I push his shirt up, pulling the buttons loose roughly, but there’s no hint of stubble there or on his jaw. The boy is a wet dream made flesh.

“If that’s the excuse you’re going for….” Hrishi lets the sentence trail into nothing, leans forwards, kisses me, and takes my dick in hand as his lips trail lower. There’s no way this position is going to work for a blowjob, not with me on the receiving end anyhow, but I don’t know what he’s aiming for. I find out ten seconds later when he nips at my nipple, then bites down really hard on the side of my chest. I cry out, it hurts way worse than the one on my arm and is much more unexpected, but Hrishi does his damage and leans back with a smile. He jacks my cock in time with my uneven breathing, keeping me very firmly in the moment.

“Fuck, I think you got the muscle.” I know I’m sporting a very red and obvious bite mark, and he looks deeply pleased by this. I try and keep my voice steady as I ask, “so what are we doing here?”

“I thought that was obvious.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze of my erection. I’ve been hard for half an hour or more, and I’m leaking pre over his hand. Glancing down, the sight of the two of us semi-naked, and inches away from each other hikes the tension up a notch; we look like pornography.

“Hrishi.” My voice is half warning, I’m really close, but also demanding. I’m going to do my best not to give into him again, not when I’ve no idea what the hell he’s thinking.

“I’m going to get you off, and if you promise to work really hard on your machine learning homework, I’ll let you blow me afterwards.”

“Oh fuck...”

Hrishi laughs breathlessly, and it’s nice to know I’m at least having some effect to ruin his composure.

“I’m going to start harassing you sexually, y’know.”

“Not if I get to you first,” I growl. “Shit, Hrishi… I’m gonna…!” I don’t even make it to the end of the sentence before I spasm in his hand, shooting over my own chest, the end of my orgasm dripping over Hrishi’s knuckles as I throb in a wave of aftershocks which make it hard to breathe. I just about have the presence of mind to wrap a hand around the back of his hips to stop him from sliding off my lap as he sits back, raises his hand to his lips, and licks my cum from his skin. My pupils dilate so fast the room gets noticeably brighter. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

I have the pleasure of seeing him look uncertain for a second; it turns out we’re both unused to compliments.

“You’re really pretty, Hrishi.” I feel emboldened by his blush, and the fact he still has the evidence of my orgasm on his tongue. I run my hands up his back, scooting him more firmly into my lap. “And you have such smooth skin… and really long lashes.”

“You’re weird.” Hrishi’s brows furrow, and he bites his lower lip, glancing up at me through his aforementioned incredible lashes. Girls would kill for them. “But you taste kind of wonderful, so I’ll forgive you.”

I grab his wrist, and he owns the motion, placing his knuckles against my lips so I can taste myself on his skin. Salty and kind of musky, underlain with the sweet, cleanness of Hrishi’s own flavour. He smells I tiny bit like soap, a little like sweat, the faintest hint of some cologne or other reminding me of snowy mountains and big clear skies, but mostly spicy and sweet, as though he could be edible.

Hrishi glances around my room at my selection of guitars and keyboards.

“So… you sing as well, Marty?”

“Yeah,” I grin, knowing where this is headed.

“Does that means you’re good with your mouth?”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” I feel mean as I pick him up, stand, and then dump him unceremoniously on the floor, turning away to my computer waiting on the desk. God, I want to touch him, but I know I’m losing control of the situation, and that scares me down to my toes. Worse still, I can feel a little wordless voice in my head which thinks it would be really hot to just give in and submit to anything Hrishi wants. I bend to glance at the computer screen, and Hrishi wraps surprisingly strong fingers around my wrist and hauls me around.

“Get on your knees,” he commands, his voice full of sharp points and raw desire. I comply wordlessly, shaking with mixed excitement and a slight dread that I’m going to be shit at this. My only experience is gleaned from watching porn online, and I doubt the guys in those videos designed them to be used an instructional teaching tools. “Marty….” Hrishi doesn’t ask me anything, it’s not a question, but I know what he wants me to do. Suck my cock, his eyes say it all. His length is hard and quivering, poking from his open Capri pants. I wrap a hand around each hip, gulp nervously, and take the flared head of his dick into my mouth. “Good boy.”

He’s hotter than I thought a body could be, and he tastes like he smells, clean and spicy. The feeling of him inside my mouth isn’t as strange as I thought it would be, and as I start to slide down his shaft, I am silently fascinated by the combined textures of the super soft and smooth skin over the incredible rigid hardness of the muscles underneath. I can’t get right down to the base, because my throat is complaining, so I pull off again until just the head remains trapped between my lips, and I lick experimentally at his slit.

“Oh shit, do that again!” Hrishi’s voice is gravelly with need, and one hand wraps around the back of my head, but doesn’t press me further. I obey him, I feel helpless to do otherwise, and I’m rewarded with another groan, and the thrust of his hips. Hrishi plays with my now tousled fringe, and I glance up at him, my lips still firmly wrapped around his cock. “OK, that’s definitely the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His hips push forwards, and I yield to the pressure as he slides deeper into my mouth before pulling back. “You alright Marty?”

He knows, somehow, that I have no experience. We’re in a soft, gentle moment where I know, if I let go and sat back, he would let me. But I don’t want him too. I blink once, and squeeze the back of his thigh, my fingers brushing right up under his butt. Hrishi takes this as permission to continue, and he holds the back of my head and neck firmly, the fingers of his other hand woven into my fringe, using the pressure on my hair to keep me still. I keep watching him as he beings to fuck my face with ever-quicker thrusts of his narrow hips. I don’t think I looked at him properly in the showers; too busy concentrating on his cock, now in my mouth, to take in the rest of him. We might have athletics together, but I’ve never managed to catch sight of him getting changed; he’s too careful. His skin is darker than mine, smoother too, and the muscles of his abdomen are less pronounced. There’s not an ounce of spare flesh on him though, and his hip bones stand out like knives; but his shoulders are rounded, so maybe lifting computers and amps have similar effects on the body, because he’s certainly no weakling. I want to explore his torso with my tongue, delve into the soft pit of his navel, kiss and bite my way across his abdomen, and see if his nipples are as sensitive as mine appear to be. But I can’t do anything, because Hrishi holds me in place as the perfectly proportioned length of his dick slides between my lips, filling me with his scent and the sweet-salt taste of his precum.

I can feel his pulse in my mouth, and for some reason that turns me on way more than I thought it would. I can already feel my boner pressing up into my belly, but I don’t dare touch myself. Both my hands are wrapped around Hrishi’s thighs so hard I wonder if I might leave him with bruises. He lasts longer than I thought he would, but I seriously can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing. His hips thrust really hard, then he falters, his heartbeat irregular, his fingers clutch so painfully tight in my hair I think there’s a small risk I might become bald, and he meets my eyes as he comes. His eyes are so dark that might be black, and he growls, a feral animal sound, his hair falling in his face as he curls over my head. He pants, lips damp and parted, as I swallow his cum. Every time my mouth contracts around his length, he shudders visibly.

“Holy cow, Marty….”

It is with reluctance I finally release him from my lips. I think I might have just found a new favourite hobby. Hrishi looks a bit wobbly, and I don’t let go of his thighs.

“Hrishi? You OK?”

He gives in to gravity, and practically falls on top of me. We end up in a sprawl on my floor, half dressed and kissing. I run my fingers through his hair, and he moans.

“That’s a good noise,” I mutter, almost to myself, and massage his scalp again. Hrishi is as warm and pliant in my arms as a sleepy puppy. “So what now?”

“I’m going to help you not fail at computer science,” he pants between kisses, “once I’ve located my legs again, anyway.”

“I didn’t mean now. I meant, you know, generally.” Broaching the subject of the future and feelings seems like a dangerous thing to do this close to an orgasm. “Hrishi? Do you even like me?”

“As a person?” He chews his lip for a moment. “No.” I know my disappointment must show on my face, but clearly Hrishi doesn’t care. “You’re really fucking hot, and you are really good with your mouth, that’s for damn sure, but you’re a coward.”

“What?” I can hardly believe we’re still lying together, my fingers still moving in Hrishi’s silky soft hair, his lips only inches away. “Fuck off.”

“Why aren’t you out?” He pauses long enough to actually let me answer, but I don’t. “Seriously, Marty. You’re in a band. It’s not like we live in small-town Midwest America, and rock and roll is not exactly known as a bastion of sexual purity.”

“Why is it any of your business?”

“It’s not.” Hrishi extracts himself from my arms and we both get up, tucking ourselves back inside our clothes. He grabs my phone from where it’s fallen on the floor, and begins to type. “You can call me if you want help with the assignment for class, and I meant what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna want to kiss you at college. Other stuff too.”

“Right….” I’m worried. Hrishi sounds dangerous, like I’d cut myself on him if we touched right now.

“Here’s the deal, Marty.” I wonder when I became a trading commodity. “You need to prove that you’re better than the homophobic company you keep, and then maybe we’ll see where this goes. There’s no way I’m going to let you fuck me unless you turn out to be worth more than your reputation.”

“I….” I have no idea what to say to him, and I don’t get much chance. Hrishi presses my phone back into my hand, balances on tip toes and grabs my crotch, and kisses me hard. I open up to him, I can’t not, and he bites hard on my lip before he lets me go again. I can taste blood and I put my hand to my mouth as Hrishi grins. “Fucking seriously?”

“Yep. See you on Monday, Marty.”

I stare after him as he pulls on his shoes and vanishes through my bedroom door. I hear the outer door close and I half hope he won’t be able to find the button for the gate and will need to come back again. He doesn’t.

I’m still standing there, tonguing my bloodied lip, when my phone rings, and I buzz Leon in without even answering it. He shows up with an easy grin, a guitar, and a take-away coffee held aloft.

“Marty? Dude?” His knuckles on my shoulder bring me back to myself with a jolt. “C’mon dude, you ready to work on the new song, or what?”

“Yeah.” I’ve never felt more confused in my whole life. “Sure.”