Chas shifted a little in his sleep, and his palm slid down Gunner’s belly, perilously close to his private parts. Whoa. He would never forget the first time they’d been having a sleepover and Chas had, in his sleep, fondled Gunner’s cock. It had woken him instantly. He’d lain there in the dark, his face flaming with shame, loving every second of Chas’s fingers wrapped around his eager erection.
He’d attributed it to the general horniness of being a teenager, but that wasn’t all it had been, and he knew it. He’d responded to Chas’s touch, to Chas’s young body pressed against his, the smell of him, the feel of him—
Umm, it was exactly the same way he was reacting now. In fact, he was rapidly acquiring a painfully insistent boner. Chas’s fingertips rested close enough to his pubic hair to twine into the curls, to wrap around the base of his throbbing dick, to measure the length of him by feel—
Chas shifted in his sleep, and instinctively, Gunner wrapped his arm around Chas’s shoulders. Don’t go. Don’t stop. The words burned into his brain with searing directness. He wanted this man. Wanted to be touched by this man. Wanted to make love to this man.
He wasn’t in the habit of admitting to himself that he was gay. It felt weird now, but thankfully the weirdness had nothing whatsoever to do with Chas. Chas felt great. More than great.
No matter how awkward and clumsy he’d ever been, Chas had always made it all feel exactly right. Back in high school, neither he nor Chas had known what they were doing. Oh, Chas had known what he wanted, but he’d been too shy to spell it out clearly for Gunner. As for Gunner, he’d never given the idea of sex with a boy much thought prior to that first sexually charged encounter with his best friend. The one thing he hadn’t counted on was being so turned on by the sight of Chas’s tight, pale ass just waiting for him to plunder it that he’d nearly exploded before ever actually getting to the sex act.
It was a memory he rarely allowed himself to access. For the most part, he kept it locked away tightly in the furthest, darkest corner of his mind. But lying here tonight with Chas’s fingertips moving ever so slightly on his belly, easing toward his hungry cock millimeter by millimeter, he went there in his mind.
The thing he never ever admitted to himself was that it hadn’t been just about the sex, although the tight heat of Chas’s body accepting him into it had been so graphic a turn-on that he could barely control himself while Chas panted and adapted to the invasion.
No, it had been an emotional thing for him. He loved Chas. As his best friend, as the brother he’d never had… and as the one person on earth he wanted to share the intimacy of sex with more than anyone else. And that had been a staggering revelation at the ripe old age of seventeen. He wasn’t ready to love anyone, let alone his male best friend.
He’d been a giant jerk about it. Said the wrong things, acted the exact wrong way. Chas had laid himself and his heart on the line for him, and Gunner had emotionally kicked the guy in the teeth. Told him it was a terrible mistake. That he felt taken advantage of. That it would never happen again. And worst of all, that he wasn’t attracted to Chas in that way.
Every word had been a lie.
And that was the thing he hid the most from, that he rarely confessed to himself. Only in moments like this, late at night, alone with his thoughts and regrets, did he dare confront his hypocrisy.
Tonight, the guilt overwhelmed him, flooding through his consciousness, lodging underneath his breastbone with a burning sensation ten times worse than indigestion.
He’d treated Chas like crap. Sweet, loving, generous, honest Chas.
Which made him a gigantic asshole.
He sighed and turned his head, burying his nose in Chas’s blond hair. They lay like that for a while, him inhaling the wholesome shampoo scent of Chas’s hair, and Chas’s palm, warm and light, on his lower belly, just above his groin.
It was intimate and personal, and Gunner took a while to absorb that. Truth be told, he’d never lain with any human being afterward like this. He always felt dirty afterward. Sullied.
All that time, the only person he’d wanted was Chas. How had he not seen it earlier?
Chapter Six
WHAT. AN. Idiot.
How had he missed it all these years? He wanted Chas as his lover.
The notion exploded across his brain with all the fiery brightness of a fireworks display. And in its black, echoing wake, the questions poured in. Was it a bad idea? Should he risk their friendship in that way? What if it didn’t work out? But what if it did? It was one thing to know that he was attracted to guys sexually, but was he ready for a full-blown gay relationship?
He thought back over the years, and certain aspects of his life clicked into place. He’d never been interested in the porn magazines the guys snuck into their gear and jerked off to in the field. He’d privately wondered if something was wrong with him.
For a few years, he’d wondered if his high school encounter with Chas had ruined him somehow. Changed him. Made him incapable of getting satisfaction with women. As he’d gotten a little older—and a lot less ignorant about sex—he’d figured out that was ridiculous, of course.
But he’d never made the leap of logic to identify himself as a man who wanted a long-term relationship with another man.
Which, in retrospect, was not only stupid but a massive act of denial. He’d known somewhere, buried deep in his gut, that he was all-the-way gay. He’d just been desperate to avoid the complications it would bring to his life. He loved being a SEAL. Loved fitting in. Being part of a band of brothers. He hadn’t wanted to risk all of that. But he’d denied himself even thinking about the kind of relationship that might bring him long-term happiness. Not to mention an actual happy ever after.
Nope. He’d chosen to pretend for years that he wasn’t gay at all rather than admit that he wanted the whole gay enchilada.
And then Chas had called him, scared out of his mind and in deep trouble.
Everything else had fallen away. The SEALs. His career. All that had mattered was getting here. To Chas. To the only person he’d ever loved. The person he’d always loved.
The only thing that mattered was that he loved this human being.
He desperately hoped that his decade of epic idiocy running from that truth hadn’t destroyed all of Chas’s feelings for him.
He sighed deeply, and the lift of his chest made Chas shift against his side. His hand slipped lower, and Gunner gasped.
Chas’s fingers landed against his semirigid dick, which lost the “semi” quality in the time it took his heart to beat twice. And then his cock was rock-hard and he could count his pulse in its nearly painful pounding. His engorged flesh jumped under Chas’s touch, and he bit back an urge to groan aloud. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on controlling his body. Must not blow my load. Must have self-control.
Chas’s magic fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his underwear and slid around the base of his cock, caressing and lightly pulling at it so as to tug gently at his balls—his ready-to-burst balls that ached like mad between his legs. They drew up against his body like eagerly ticking time bombs, awaiting the signal to explode.
Gunner realized his lower back was arching slightly, his hips lifting hungrily into Chas’s hand. His whole existence narrowed down to a single spot—his crotch and Chas’s fist around his cock.