“Nope.” Brian spun and stalked towards the stairs. “You know what, Andrew? You can just fuck yourself.”
Andrew gritted his teeth as Brian all but ran upstairs. He’d messed up all over again.
It had been instinctual to pull away. A fear response, but not about being seen as gay or bi. Andrew had known for a long time that he liked looking at male bodies as much as he did women’s. He’d never acted on it, other than making a trek up to Brisbane to go to The Beat and test out his possible bisexuality, fairly certain the chances of running into someone he knew would be substantially less. A couple of drinks at the bar had loosened him up enough to let him look unabashedly at the men around him. Things had stirred, and then hardened when a beautiful young guy had dragged him onto the dance floor. However, his brain hadn’t been able to stop wondering if it was simply the physical stimulation of his dick as the twink rubbed against him that caused the response. When the guy had moved in to kiss him, Andrew had freaked and run out. He hadn’t gone back since.
This wasn’t a repeat of that moment. Brian wasn’t a nameless stranger in a bar, fuelled by alcohol and lust. He was his best friend, the person he was in love with, but the thought of kissing him—having sex with him—was problematic.
Archimedes came looking for his dinner, all pleading meows, big, soulful yellow eyes, and endless kitty kisses. Unable to deny him anything when he was that cute, Andrew prepared the cat’s dinner then set about preparing the salad he’d promised Brian to go with the Pad Thai. The noodles he put in an oven safe dish and set to warming, then went for a shower. When he came out, he almost ran into Brian, who was backing out of his room with his packed sports bag over one shoulder, satchel across his chest and laptop bag under his other arm.
“Where are you going?” Andrew clutched at the towel around his waist, suddenly feeling sick.
“To Carly’s.”
“Why?”
Brian gave him a flat glare. “Figure it out.”
“Because I said no to sex?”
“No.” He charged down the stairs, recklessly fast considering the weight he was carrying.
Andrew followed. “Then why?”
Brian ignored him and kept going. In the garage he threw the sports bag and laptop in the Jag’s boot. Andrew barricaded the driver’s side door.
“I told Carly I’d be at hers in fifteen,” Brian said through gritted teeth.
“Fine, but tell me why you’re going at least.”
“You want to know why? It’s because right now I can’t stand looking at you. You’re making me angry just by breathing and I can’t sleep and I can’t concentrate at work. You might be willing to throw your dream job away but I’m not. I really need to impress the doctors I’m working with now if I have any chance of getting a permanent job there. So I’m going to Carly’s. At least when she says she loves me I know where I stand with her.”
Andrew’s chest ached and his throat burned. The jab about the job sliced deep. Brian knew why he’d decided to not pursue architecture. He’d made this mess, though, so he had to try to get them out of it somehow. “I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to make you angry with me. I just . . .” The words dried up because Brian was looking at him with such fury it hurt to know he was the cause of it.
“You just . . . what? Decided Monday night was the perfect time to fuck with me? You thought hey, everyone’s really happy right now so why not make someone miserable and confused?”
“Jesus, no.” Andrew threw himself away from the car, wanting space between them. “How could you ever think that?”
Brian flinched but didn’t take the words back.
Shaking his head, Andrew went back inside, too shocked to even consider slamming the door. A moment later, the garage door opened and the Jag pulled out. Andrew slumped down onto the couch.
Andrew should have learned to communicate better by now. Especially since this was Brian, the one person he’d always felt comfortable with. He shouldn’t have been scared when Brian asked about sex. Shouldn’t have been surprised it had come up because Brian was right. Being in love generally entailed sex and he wanted sex with Brian.
Didn’t he?
Sex had not been a part of Andrew’s life for so long now it was hard to remember when it had been so vital to existence. He was only twenty-six. He shouldn’t be ready to give up on it yet. Loss of libido had been expected during his chemo treatments, but they’d been over for six months now. Depression, too, hadn’t helped. He hadn’t seen his dick fully hard in two years. Hadn’t even had a wank in that time. Didn’t know if he’d ever feel aroused ever again.
And it really hurt that Brian seemed to not realise that when he’d been so careful and sensitive with everything else.
Or was Brian just tired of all of Andrew’s bullshit? He got his all clear, so was that it? Was the closeness and connection over now? Except that they’d always been that close, that connected. Nearly twenty years of friendship. They’d survived all the usual teenage years ups and downs, including Brian banging Andrew’s sister. Uni hadn’t split them apart, even though they’d gone to different campuses, both working so hard they’d barely even seen each other on weekends. Yet when the chance to get this townhouse came up, Andrew hadn’t hesitated to ask Brian to move in with him. Brian had been mock offended that Andrew had thought he needed to ask at all.
And Andrew hadn’t even thought about going to anyone else when he’d found the lump in his right testicle. The first pair of male hands not his own on his junk in his memory and they’d been Brian’s. He’d been so scared when Brian’s medical student opinion had been a grave command to go see a “real” doctor, that he’d just grabbed his best friend and sobbed into his chest for a good hour.
The hardest he’d ever gotten since then had been a rare morning semi that deflated the moment he remembered he had cancer.
Which brought him full circle to sex. Sex with Brian. Did he want to have sex with Brian? Andrew cupped his dick through the fluffy material of his towel and thought about Brian. Thought about what made Andrew love him. The way he could make Andrew laugh even in the midst of his saddest moments, or knew when to not even try and just be there with him and for him. How he tapped his lower lip while reading and would unconsciously make room for their huge cat when Archy wanted lap time. The way he insisted on calling Archy Schrodinger. That indefinable quality of him just knowing Andrew better than anyone else.
His dick warmed a bit, but that might have just been because Andrew was holding it. Taking his hand away, Andrew thought of the night he’d gone to The Beat. How the guys there had been open and unabashed about their sexuality. How they’d moved and looked boldly and how Andrew’s body had responded to them. He closed his eyes and thought of arses encased in tight jeans, T-shirts damp with sweat clinging to chests and abs, hips rolling and thighs parting as the men moved closer and closer.
Yeah, that was making some warmth pool in his guts. He slid his hand under the towel, lightly touching his dick. A tingling wave of anticipation rolled up his shaft and his balls—ball—twitched.
And just like that it all vanished.
Ball. Nut. Nad. Testicle. Singular.