Lay Your Prompts On Me - 5. 348 - Coitus Interruptus

“Can you give me one reason why I should believe you?”

“Because this isn’t what it looks like. Really,” I wince.

“Are you sure?” Gary looks down at me, and from my perspective, he’s standing on the ceiling, “’cause from here it kinda looks like you were getting a blow job from my best friend.”

It is at this point that Mark coughs none too discreetly, jumps to his feet and straightens his lust-rumpled clothes. He grins at me quickly and I cover my beet-red face with one hand, still trying to maintain some sort of modesty in front of my brother.

“I’ll be off then. See ya Gaz.”

“Not so fucking fast.” My bedroom door slams behind them and I continue to lay on the thick plush carpet of my bedroom floor, listening to the two of them argue on the landing. I am insanely glad that our parents aren’t home to overhear their heated conversation.

“Gary, c’mon man.”

“He’s my brother!”

“Yeah,” I can almost see Mark shifting from foot to foot in his anxious state. He does that a lot. “Look, Gaz-”

“My little brother!”

“He’s not that fuckin’ little,” Mark snaps back defensively, “he grew up.”

“He’s sixteen!”

“Seventeen in a week…” I mutter to myself as I straighten up my clothes and tuck my brother-deflated hard-on back into my pants. Outside, Gary is still admonishing his best friend and I can’t tell if Mark is being defensive about his actions or about me.

“Jeez Gary! I’m sorry, OK! Just leave it alone dude,” I can hear them retreating towards Gary’s room, “you can whup my butt at Call of Duty again.”

“You bet I will. My fuckin’ brother, seriously…”

Gary’s door thumps shut and I open mine to stare across the long landing at his bedroom door adorned with band posters and warning stickers: Gary had been that sort of teenager. Not that my room is generally much cleaner, but I prefer to stick the pull out posters from Onboard magazine in my actual room so I can look at them; dozens of guys and girls spinning through the air and carving up the mountains against a backdrop of white snow and blue sky.

My older brother was not supposed to be home either. After the last time Mark and I had ended up lust-drunk, blurry-eyed and bruised-lipped hiding at the top of the stairs from my family waiting below, we had decided it might be better to try and have a moment where we weren’t constantly in danger of being found out. Timing lies to go to the bathroom to coincide with being late downstairs for dinner was fine, but only for a time measured in not-enough seconds. Illicit kisses were all well and good, but I wanted to kiss Mark and enjoy it fully, not with half my brain firing off panic signals in case we got caught.

And now my date… well, sort of date sort of booty call, sort of sexy hook up, but definitely my whatever-this-was, was behind a shut door with my brother, playing computer games. When I think of what I would rather be doing, it makes me furious.

It was all going so well. Mark was sort of nervous, so was I, because we’d never been actually alone before, not like that. I’d got cokes from the fridge, we sat on my bed, chatted a little bit, just about school and colleges and stuff, nothing heavy. And then he’d leant over and kissed me. It had been all soft and wonderful and incredibly aggravating not to have him just plunder my mouth with his tongue like usual. Ten seconds later I’d had Mark pinned onto the bed, taking the upper hand, feeling very pleased with myself. But he’d been teasing my, grinding his hips into my crotch until I was whimpering and begging him for any sort of relief. He’d rolled us both off the bed, crushed me against the floor with his bigger frame while I moaned, before pulling my shirt up, yanking my pants down and wrapping his lips around my aching erection.

And just as I’d gotten over the shock enough to start enjoying it, Gary had walked in and destroyed my afternoon.

I spend the next half hour or so unable to concentrate on anything. I stride up and down my room, creep across the hall and back again, try and fail to sit and listen to some music or even watch Shaun White’s latest half-pipe videos with any level of concentration. The next time I sneak across the landing, they are talking about me again, and I swear it’s like Gary can tell I’m listening.

“So what are you’ve intentions towards my brother?”

“Jesus Gaz!” Mark can be heard jumping out of his skin, because he drops the Xbox controller and dies on screen. “What kind of fucking question is that?”

“A normal one to ask your brother’s boyfriend.”

“I’m not his boyfriend,” my heart clenches in a very special kind of pain at Mark’s words. Of course he’s not my boyfriend now, but I’d hoped that he would be soon. “We hadn’t got that far.”

“You’d gotten far enough to have his dick in your mouth!” Gary snaps, “whoa! OK, I did not need to remind myself of that quite so vividly…”

“Indeed.”

“Seriously though? You can get all the way to third base without asking a guy to go out with you?”

“You can get a lot further than that.”

Ouch. I wince internally. It’s one thing to know that Mark has slept with other people before, quite another to hear his cocky tone when he says it like that. The rosy coloured vision of my immediate future is going rather dark.

“Gary, I think I should go talk to him.” Mark scraps his chair to get up, and just as I am about to run away to avoid being caught eavesdropping, I hear Gary pull him back.

“Well, that entirely depends on what you’re going to say to him.”

“Gaz?” I echo Mark’s confusion silently.

“I can’t pretend that I wanted to walk in and see…” he pauses and I assume he is gesticulating wildly, “all of that. But you’re my best friend and he’s my brother. If you’re about to walk over there and tell him ‘it’s all cool, it doesn’t matter’, I’m going to punch you really hard. Probably in the face.”

I feel a sudden swell of love that has nothing to do with my crotch. I don’t want Gary to hit Mark, they’ve been friends since they were seven years old, but the idea that my brother would leap to my defence makes me incredibly happy. Of course, I hope he’s not going to need to.

“You want me to date your brother?” Mark sounds sceptical.

“Not quite how I’d put it,” Gary replies, “but I don’t want you to break his heart.”

“Gaz…” Mark sounds like a man on the verge of breaking down, “I don’t even know if he wants to date me.”

Yes! Yes! I want to burst through the door and hug them both really hard. I want to wrap my arms around Mark and never let go. But I can’t let them know I’ve been listening.

Gary and Mark are just over two years older than me, enough that we were three years apart at school, and I have wanted to be part of their world since I can remember. When I was a kid, trailing around after Gary and Mark was just the only thing to do, since older kids were cool and all that jazz. When you’re seven, ten year old boys seem like gods. When I was thirteen, I wanted to tail Gary and Mark for very different reasons, because just seeing Mark was enough to make me feel hot and my clothes feel hot and constricting, even though I didn’t know why. By the time Mark and Gary started college, I was starting my GCSEs and Mark had become the focus of pretty much all of my fantasies.

And now that fantasy was sitting in my brother’s room, apparently worried that after a dozen amazing stolen kisses, a couple of frantic and exploratory feelings-up, and an all-too-soon aborted blow-job, that I might turn him down.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Gary’s voice is full of quiet support for his friend, “go ask him.”

I run. Closing my bedroom door as silently as possible I scramble around trying to look neat, pull my bed covers straight, run my fingers through my hair and take up position on my bed, lying on my belly, propped up on my elbows. I just about get a magazine open at a new style boards spread when there is a knock on the door, and it creaks open.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” I try not to smile too obviously, but I can’t help it. My cheeks almost hurt with the force of how happy I am.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” Mark transfers his weight from foot to foot so fast he is almost hopping. I pat the mattress next to my hip and sit up.

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s OK.”

“Look, I need to ask you something.”

“Sure.” Resisting the temptation to kiss him against is getting harder by the second. Our faces are only inches apart.

“You were listening to the whole thing weren’t you?” Before I can answer, Mark kisses me in his usual, incredibly erotic, forceful manner. “I knew it.”

“Sorry.”

“Well that makes everything else a whole lot easier,” Mark pushes me back into the mattress and I am only too happy to let him. His whole body is hard and warm against my own. “I’d quite like to date you. Is that alright?”

“Yes please. Will there be more kissing?”

Mark answers with a demonstration of what I might one day become accustomed too. I get his shirt open while we kiss, and he pulls my t-shirt up to my arm pits, pinning my wrists with one hand while he explores my chest with his tongue and lips. I have to bite back my moans. Just as Mark, my boyfriend, gets his free hand into my boxers, causing my hips to buck erratically, the door bursts open.

“Oh fuck not again!” Gary and Mark both exclaim in unison, but this time, all I can do is laugh.