Chapter 1

Normally, Tyler Meyer wasn’t one to blame a hot girl for trying something new in bed—hey,
he was an open-minded twenty-four-year-old guy with a healthy sex drive—but he didn’t think
it was totallyunreasonable to ask for some warning before the girl he was hooking up with
shoved a finger up his ass.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” he said with a chuckle, looking down at the naked blonde
between his thighs. The view was fantastic, the curve of her waist and ass making him
twitch in her mouth, but the wet finger in Tyler’s ass was weirding him out too much to fully
appreciate the view.

Erica stopped sucking his cock long enough to grin and say, “Relax. Maybe you’ll like it. My
ex liked having a finger up his ass during a blowjob. Said it felt more intense.”

Tyler shook his head with a laugh. “I’m not into that kind of thing, babe—”

She crooked her finger and Tyler saw stars, his body convulsing as he let out what was
probably a mix of a scream and a moan. He came, and it felt like he kept coming and
coming, his body trembling with pleasure.

When Tyler was finally able to focus his gaze again, he found Erica staring at him with a
stunned look on her face.

“Wow,” she said faintly before smirking. “Not into it, huh?”

Tyler flushed, feeling uneasy, embarrassed, and a little freaked out, so he quickly rolled them
over and went down on her until she forgot even her own name, much less…that incident.

Afterward, as he put her in a cab and took a long shower, Tyler tried not to think about what
had happened. It wasn’t a big deal.

It wasn’t.
***

“Out with it.”

“What?” Tyler said into his beer.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” Nick said. “Spill.”

Tyler put his beer down and looked at his best friend across the table before flicking his
gaze around the pub. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

Silence.

Sighing, Tyler returned his gaze to Nick, who just raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Sometimes Tyler hated how well Nick knew him. Like, they were bros and all, but it fucking
sucked to be such an open book to Nick. It had always annoyed Tyler back when they were
in secondary school together—Nick had never bought his bullshit when Tyler boasted about
his conquests. Nick had always just humored him with that annoyingly amused look in his
eyes whenever Tyler…exaggerated things a little.

It was annoying that he still couldn’t lie to Nick for shit, even after all these years. It wasn’t
like they lived in each other’s pockets nowadays. They didn’t go to the same school
anymore: Nick was in law school while Tyler hadn’t bothered with uni after sixth form,
choosing to work at his family’s pub instead. They had different friends these days, different
interests and everything.

But fuck it. Nick Hardaway was still his best friend. They were bros for life; Tyler knew that. 

It was annoying that he still couldn’t lie to Nick for shit, even after all these years. It wasn’t
like they lived in each other’s pockets nowadays. They didn’t go to the same school
anymore: Nick was in law school while Tyler hadn’t bothered with uni after sixth form,
choosing to work at his family’s pub instead. They had different friends these days, different
interests and everything.

But fuck it. Nick Hardaway was still his best friend. They were bros for life; Tyler knew that.
They hadn’t lost contact even in the year Tyler had lived with his grandparents in L.A. When
he’d returned to London, their friendship was as solid as ever. Tyler had been the first person
Nick had come out to, the person Nick had trusted the most. Like, they didn’t really talk
about feelings—they weren’t little girls—but they both knew they had each other’s back, no
matter what.

Which was why Tyler was considering sharing his…problem with Nick.

Licking his lips, Tyler stared at his best friend uncertainly.

Nick stared back, his gray eyes expectant.

“Remember the blonde I hooked up with a few days ago?” Tyler said.

Nick took a slow sip from his beer, and there was something like curiosity in his eyes now.
Nick knew Tyler didn’t get worked up over his hookups. Tyler hooked up a lot; it was easy,
fun, and uncomplicated, which was basically his life motto.

“The one who was groping your prick on the dance floor?” Nick said.

“Yeah,” Tyler said, leaning back in his seat with a smirk.

Nick snorted. “Drop that stupid smirk. You look like a prat. A bigger one than you normally
are.”

“The girls that go home with me every night clearly disagree with you, and sorry, their opinion
is the one that counts.”
Nick laughed. “It’s fucking adorable that you really think they fuck you because of your
stupid smirk. Thank your parents for their genes. That’s the only reason you get laid. Though,
personally, I don’t see the appeal.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. Privately, he always thought Nick overdid it a little with the whole…not
finding him attractive thing. It was a bit insulting, really. He wasn’t some kind of homophobic
prick. Nick should have known better by now. He wasn’t going to run away screaming if Nick
admitted that Tyler was hot—objectively speaking.

Like, Tyler was perfectly aware he was a little conceited, but it was for a reason, okay? It
wasn’t his fault that women were so into him. He was a good-looking dude, objectively. He
had nice, dark blond hair and blue eyes. Chicks were crazy about his eyes—which, truth be
told, Tyler didn’t get, but whatever.

“My parents didn’t give me these babies,” Tyler said, patting his abs.

Nick—the asshole—laughed. “Please tell me you don’t call your abs babies. Please.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tyler said, kicking him under the table. “You wish your body was as good as
mine.” Well, to be entirely honest, Nick was as fit as him. They were exactly the same height,
actually, and were built similarly. Nick might or might not have better arms, but Tyler wasn’t
going to admit it aloud. Ever.

“Right,” Nick deadpanned with an eye-roll of his own. “So what about that blonde? You
couldn’t make her come or something?”

“Fuck off. I’ll have you know I made her scream.” Tyler looked down at his beer. “It was
just…She did a thing…It was weird and kind of gross, but I can’t stop thinking about it now.”
He darted a glance at Nick and found him frowning.

“A thing?” Nick said.

Tyler felt his face go warm. “Like—she put a finger in—in me.”
Silence.

“You didn’t like it?”

“No—yes—I…” Tyler groaned, unable to meet his eyes. “I liked it, man. That’s the problem. I
never came so hard. I can’t stop thinking about it now, and it’s fucking with my head. I’m not
gay! You know I’m not!”

“Ty.”

Tyler forced himself to look at his friend.

Nick had an incredulous expression on his face. “You do realize that gay men aren’t the only
people who can get off from anal stimulation, right? Actually, some gay men don’t even like
it. A finger in your ass doesn’t make you gay, you twat.”

Tyler breathed out. Nick was right. Nick would know better. Nick was actually gay. Unlike
Tyler.

“But,” he said, chewing on his lip. “The problem is, it’s messed me up—the finger thing. I can’t
even wank without feeling like something is missing. I fucked a really hot girl yesterday and
it felt—I dunno, so unsatisfying, man. A lot less intense.” He looked at Nick imploringly.
“You’re gay—you get it, right?”

Nick looked at him strangely. “Not really, actually. I’m not…” He raked his fingers through his
black hair with a wry smile. “It’s not really my thing, Ty.”

Tyler blinked. “But you’re gay.” He felt almost betrayed. Nick was supposed to be the person
who would get it.

Nick gave him a somewhat pinched look. “As I said, not all gay men like it.” He shrugged. “It
doesn’t do much for me. Not worth the hassle. I guess my prostate isn’t that sensitive. But it
looks like yours is, so congrats. Enjoy.”
Tyler looked at him in disbelief. Enjoy? “Are you kidding me, man? That’s your advice?”

Nick chuckled. “What kind of advice do you want? Buy some good lube and finger yourself—”

“Keep your voice down, dammit,” Tyler said, scowling into his beer. Even his ears felt hot.
“I’m a straight guy. Straight men don’t do that.”

Nick exhaled loudly. “God, you’re such an idiot. Why are we friends again? I have much
cooler friends.”

Tyler knocked his knee against Nick’s. “Don’t front,” he said, smiling. “I’m your best bro. All
your fancy law school friends are boring and ugly. And I’m totally the best wingman a gay
man could wish for.”

Nick snorted. “I don’t remember you ever being my wingman. I don’t need a wingman to pull,
anyway.”

“Why do you think you get hit on when we hang out together? Gay men see you with a hot
bloke like me and think you aren’t the loser you are.”

“Yeah,” Nick said dryly. “That must be it.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

They fell into a companionable silence. Tyler glanced at the bar, but it didn’t look like Justin
needed help. Justin was new, but it wasn’t rush hour. He should be fine.

“I’m serious, mate,” Nick said, making Tyler look back at him. “Get some good lube and try it.
If it felt as good as you say, you owe it to yourself to try it. If it was a fluke, no harm done. If it
wasn’t, good for you. Putting a finger up your ass won’t make you gay.” Nick raised his
eyebrows. “Unless you’re insecure about your heterosexuality?”
Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you. I’m not insecure.” He was one hundred percent straight.
Nick knew that better than anyone.

Leaning back in his seat, Nick looked at him over the rim of his beer glass. “Then do it. What
do you have to lose?”

Later that night, Tyler stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, panting like he’d just run a
marathon, his cock spent, his fingers still buried in his asshole, his body tingling all over after
the most intense orgasm of his life.

He couldn’t wait to do it again.

And again, and again, and again.

“Shit,” he whispered.

It was all Nick’s fault.

Chapter 2

The next night, Tyler went to his favorite club and picked up the hottest woman he could
find, a tall, curvy redhead with great legs. Her name was Debbie. She gave amazing head and
she was so wet around him that her pussy made wet sounds every time he moved; it was a
great ego boost.

Tyler left her flat, feeling well-fucked and pleased with himself. He fucking loved women.
“But?” Nick said, cutting him off as Tyler waxed poetic about Debbie.

Tyler scowled at him. “There’s no but. I hooked up with the hottest woman in London and
got her number. I think I’ll actually call her.”

Nick sipped his beer slowly, just looking at him in that half-amused, half-exasperated way
that always drove Tyler crazy. Was it normal to want to punch his best bro in his stupid face?

“What?” Tyler said.

“You don’t have to prove that you’re straight, you know,” Nick said amiably. “Just because
you liked fingering yourself.”

Tyler took a big gulp from his beer.

“So you really like it,” Nick said.

Tyler flicked his gaze to the bar, but Justin clearly didn’t need his help at the moment; Zoe
was helping him out tonight. More was the pity. He could use an excuse to avoid this
conversation.

He shrugged, his face uncomfortably hot, which was ridiculous. He didn’t blushover sex. Not
that wanking was sex. Nick was right: there was nothing weird or gay about liking a
finger—or two—up his ass.

“You aren’t telling me something,” Nick said.

Tyler made a face.

“Come on, Ty,” Nick said. “It’s me.”

Rubbing the back of his flushed neck, Tyler said reluctantly, avoiding Nick’s gaze, “The sex
with her was, like, great. Easily the top five sex of my life. I was so into her I could barely wait
until I got in her.” He moistened his lips with his tongue. “The sex was fine, but it still wasn’t
as intense as…I came so much harder just from my fingers, you know? I want to do it, like, all
the time now. All the bloody time.”

Nick was quiet.

Tyler glanced his way and found Nick nursing his beer with a pinched expression on his face,
his dark brows furrowed.

“So what?” Nick said at last, clearing his throat. “I don’t get what your problem is. Find a
woman willing to finger you.”

Tyler cringed at the mere suggestion. He couldn’t imagine asking that from a woman he was
into.

“I dunno,” he said. “It feels really…emasculating.”

Nick’s odd expression shifted into a more familiar look of fond exasperation. “It’s the
twenty-first century. You do know that all those macho stereotypes are a thing of the past,
right? A lot of women like to take charge, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be on
the receiving end of some ass play. It wouldn’t make you less manly or something.”

Rationally, Tyler totally got that. But…

“It’s still mortifying to ask a hot girl to stick her finger in my asshole,” Tyler mumbled. “What
if she laughs at me? What if she thinks it’s weird or gross?” He scrunched up his nose.
“It is kinda gross, actually. I wouldn’t want to stick my finger into someone’s asshole,
especially if I barely know them.”

Nick laughed, his eyes full of mirth. “As someone who regularly sticks his various body parts
into someone’s asshole, I disagree. I didn’t know you were such a prude.”
Tyler kicked him under the table. “Shut up. Am not a prude.”

“You know what?” Nick said with a smile, pulling out his phone and tapping something out. “I
have an idea.”

Tyler eyed him suspiciously. “An idea?”

After a few more taps, Nick looked up from his phone and said, “You should receive
something from Amazon within a few days.”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “You didn’t,” he stammered, his mouth going dry.

“I did,” Nick said, leaning back in his seat. “You should have ordered a few toys yourself
instead of whining to me about your big prostate crisis.”

Tyler flushed. Fingers were one thing, but putting an actual dildo in his ass? It would be kind
of gay.

“Cancel the order, you tosser,” he whispered, glancing around self-consciously.

“Nope,” Nick said with a smirk, the asshole. “It’s a perfect solution for close-minded heteros
like you: you shag all the women you want, and then go home and fuck yourself with a dildo.
Don’t worry, I picked a good one for you. Nothing too big.”

Tyler scrambled to his feet and stormed off.

Seriously, he needed a new best friend.

Screw Nick. He wasn’t going to use that dildo.

He wasn’t even going to open the box when he got it.

***

The dildo was bright pink and stupid looking. Because of course it was. Nick lived to mock
him, the twat.

Tyler scowled at the ridiculous thing, tossed it on his nightstand, and forgot all about it. He
would throw it away later.

But later that night, as he settled for his nightly wank, Tyler found his gaze returning to the
thing.

He bit his bottom lip and looked away, resolved not to do it. Fingers were one thing. Sticking
a cock-shaped object in his ass was completely another.

Fingers are more than enough anyway, Tyler thought, circling his lubed fingers around his
hole. He pushed them against the sensitive rim, hissing a little. Goddamn. Why did this feel
so bloody good? He was already hard as a rock, his cock leaking against his stomach as his
body trembled in anticipation. He pushed two fingers in at once, gasping at the delicious,
unnatural feeling of fullness. At this point, he kind of liked this full feeling, which freaked him
out, because liking prostate stimulation was one thing, but liking having things in his ass
was probably a little gay. No offense to gay dudes who liked having things in their asses.

But fuck, this felt so good. Tyler was sucking in sharp breaths as he pushed back on his
fingers, moaning when his fingers grazed against his prostate. Fuuuck.

Tyler’s dazed gaze fell on the nightstand again. The dildo was thicker and longer than his
fingers. It would probably feel more satisfying.

Maybe just once? Trying a dildo once wouldn’t be too gay. No one had to know. Not even
Nick.
That was how Tyler found himself moaning loudly as he fucked himself with the bright pink
dildo his best mate had bought for him. Shit. He knew he was loud, that he should be
quieter—the walls weren’t very thick—but he couldn’t help it. He was so full. The stretch was
delicious, and he couldn’t stop whining every time the dildo pushed against his
overstimulated prostate. It was almost too much and he barely had the coordination to
make the dildo move in and out of him. All he wanted was to lie back and take it, to lose
himself in this sensation of being fucked. Maybe he should invest in a strap-on. Maybe he
should find a super open-minded girlfriend who wouldn’t mind fucking himinstead of making
him fuck her.

Tyler groaned at the thought, imagining a hot blonde with large breasts that would jiggle as
she fucked him with her cock—her strap-on, not her cock. Because Tyler wasn’t into cock.
Sex toys that looked like a cock didn’t equal a real cock. A real cock would probably feel so
much different from the dildo in his ass anyway. Probably nowhere near as good. A real
cock wouldn’t be so hard. A real cock wouldn’t be able to fuck him as hard as he wanted—

Tyler groaned and came, waves upon waves of toe-curling pleasure rolling over him as he
clenched hard around the cock—the dildo—in his ass.

Tyler sat up, still breathing raggedly, and stared at the jizz on his stomach. Holy shit. He’d
never come without touching his cock at all. Not even when he was a teenager.

Sighing, he flopped back on the mattress. He didn’t bother pulling the dildo out. He knew he
would be ready again in fifteen minutes, and he didn’t kid himself into thinking that he could
wank without wanting something in his ass.

These days, he always seemed to want something in his ass, which was…a bit worrying. This
was turning into an obsession.

Tyler sighed again, running a hand over his face. Maybe he really should start looking for
that open-minded girlfriend who wouldn’t mind fucking him with a strap-on.
Chapter 3

The word obsession was pretty damn inadequate, Tyler thought despairingly as he sank
down on his brand new, six-inch-long dildo, suction-cupped to the chair in his bedroom. He
was breathing heavily, gasping as he clenched around the thick toy in him. Fuck, it felt so
good. The fullness felt incredible, but it wasn’t enough. He’d found that he liked the feeling of
a cock—dildo, dammit—moving in him the best; having one inside him just wasn’t enough.
He wanted thrusting. He wanted to be fucked.

Biting his lip hard, Tyler started riding the dildo harder, little moans slipping out of his mouth
as it grazed his prostate. Fuck, fuuck—

His glazed eyes caught the picture of his parents on his nightstand, and Tyler flushed,
imagining what he looked like—what his Christian parents would think if they saw him now,
riding a dildo like some slutty thing. Shame hit him again, but he couldn’t stop. He glanced
down at his thighs trembling with the effort and his red, hard cock—and felt another wave of
embarrassment. The glistening head of the dildo looked disturbingly like a cock head as it
breached him—

Tyler came untouched, crying out in a voice that didn’t even sound like his own.

God.

Tyler stared unseeingly at the picture of his parents, flushed and out of breath, the fake cock
still clenched inside his ass. He wondered what his parents would say if they found out that
this was the closest thing to a religious experience that he had ever felt.

Bloody hell, he needed help.

***

“I think I have a problem,” Tyler said grimly, nursing his beer.

He could feel Nick’s attention sharpening. “A problem?”

Tyler took a big gulp from his beer, set it down, and looked Nick in the eye. “I haven’t picked
up in three weeks.”

Nick’s eyebrows crept up. “Are you serious?”

Tyler nodded miserably. He knew why Nick was surprised, of course. It had been years since
he hadn’t gotten laid in such a long time. Picking up every few days was the norm for him.
Three weeks was abnormal, to put it mildly.

“Why not?” Nick said.

Tyler felt his face become warm. He wanted to say that it was too much effort, but lying
wouldn’t help the situation. Nick wouldn’t be able to help if he didn’t know the extent of his
problem.

“If I pick up, she would expect me to fuck her,” he mumbled.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the point,” Nick said, sounding amused, the fucker.

Tyler glared and gave him a loaded look. Did he have to spell it out?

The smirk on Nick’s face widened. “Wait. Is this still about your prostate problem?”

Tyler hushed him, glancing around self-consciously.

“It is, isn’t it?” Nick said, chuckling.

“Ha fucking ha,” Tyler said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I know it’s funny to
you, but it isn’t funny to me at all, man!”

The amused expression finally slipped off Nick’s face. “Sorry. I just figured you experimented
a little and then moved on. It’s been almost a month.”

“Exactly,” Tyler said miserably. He took a sip of his beer and eyed its surface. “It’s all your
fault, you know. Yours and the stupid dildo you bought me.”

“So…you put it to use, I take it?”

Tyler scowled. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing. Look at me, Ty. Tyler.”

Tyler forced himself to look at Nick.

Nick was gazing at him seriously, with that half-concerned, half-affectionate look Tyler was
very familiar with. “Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that, right? We will figure it out.”

Tyler nodded, relaxing a little. He always did. Back in their school days, Nick was used to
taking care of Tyler’s messes every time Tyler fucked up. For all the shit Nick usually gave
him, Tyler knew Nick’s mocking was good-natured, and Nick had his back when it mattered.

“Talk to me,” Nick said firmly.

Tyler sighed. “I haven’t picked up in weeks because I don’t want to fuck.” He looked away,
his face uncomfortably hot. “I mean, women are great—they look and smell great—but…I’d
rather be fucked, to be honest.”

For a long moment, Nick didn’t say anything.

Tyler wondered if the ground beneath him could open and swallow him if he wished hard
enough.

“I’m sure there are women who would be into it,” Nick said at last, his voice very neutral.

Tyler made a face. “I’m sure there are, but how am I supposed to know beforehand that the
girl I’m trying to pull is into that? Like, a few weeks ago, I picked up a really hot girl and tried
to suggest—you know—and…” He cringed.

“It didn’t go well?”

Tyler let out a chuckle. “You could say that. She laughed and told me she wasn’t that kinky.
She laughed, Nick.” He’d never been so humiliated in his life. Even thinking about it made his
cock wilt and his insides clench with mortification. He’d felt about two inches tall. He still
did.

“It doesn’t mean other women would laugh too,” Nick said.

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest. “I kinda don’t feel like giving it another go,” he said
with a weak laugh.

“Tyler.”

Something in Nick’s voice made him look at him.

Nick had a tight, vaguely pissed off expression on his face. “Don’t do that,” he said. “You
have nothing to be embarrassed of. So some random woman wasn’t into it, so what? It’s her
loss, not yours. What we’re into sexually doesn’t bloody define us. You should never be
ashamed because of it.”

Tyler gave him a crooked smile. Nick was normally easygoing and laid-back, but when he
was serious about something, he had that single-minded intensity that was hard not to get
drawn into. He was going to be a great lawyer one day.Ridiculously, Tyler felt pretty damn
proud—proud to have Nick as his best mate. Not that he had low self-esteem; it was
just…Tyler liked to think of himself as realistic. He was a bit of a loser, while Nick was so
much smarter. Nick was way more driven than him, more determined. Nick would go places.
Tyler…Tyler was more of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. He would probably fuck around for a
few more years before settling down with some pretty girl, have 2.5 kids with her, and work
at the pub until the day he died. Not that there was anything wrong with that kind of future.
Tyler was perfectly a-okay with it. Nick would just have a very different one, Tyler was sure of
it.

“I’m not ashamed,” Tyler lied. “I just don’t really feel like being humiliated again.”

Nick gave him a long, searching look, his gaze still uncomfortably intense.

“You could register on dating sites,” he said at last. “It would be pretty anonymous. You
could be upfront about your preferences that way.”

Tyler nearly scoffed, but then he actually thought about it.

It was a perfect solution, actually.

“I’ll try it,” he said, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Thanks, man.”

Nick smiled at him. “Anytime.”

Chapter 4

Her name was Jessica. She was twenty-six, tall, dark, and stunning, with curves to die for
and an amazing smile.

Tyler had carefully chosen her out of the eleven women interested in pegging him, and so far
he wasn’t regretting his choice. He was definitely into her. She smelled good, her dark skin
was soft and smooth, and she kissed well.

They made out for a while, and it was all perfectly good.

Then they got to the main event.

The double-sided strap-on looked amazing on her: her hard cock looking great between her
soft thighs. Her large tits jiggled enticingly as she pushed inside him.

As he lay under her, with his legs spread wide, Tyler felt…weird. He was torn between being
turned on and being terribly self-conscious. This is wrong, a voice at the back of his mind
kept whispering. A normal man would be the one pushing his cock into such a hot woman. A
normal man wouldn’t be taking a fake cock from her. She must be secretly mocking him.

His cock wilted at that thought.

Jessica started moving, her face flushed and her eyes half-closed. She seemed to be
enjoying herself. Tyler…Tyler not so much, to be totally honest. While having a dildo in his
ass felt good as usual, her rhythm was off, her thrusts weren’t powerful enough, and she
kept completely missing his prostate. The more time passed, the more frustrated he got,
feeling on the verge of arousal but mostly just self-conscious and awkward.

Gritting his teeth, Tyler started wanking himself. He would be damned if he asked her to find
his male g-spot. That would be so embarrassing—more embarrassing than this already was.

***

“I’m never doing it again,” Tyler said, looking straight in front of him as he ran on the
treadmill.

To his right, Nick slowed down his treadmill and turned his head. “It didn’t go well?”
Tyler pulled a face. “She was great, but…”

“But?”

“I felt too self-conscious to enjoy it. I couldn’t…I couldn’t tell her that I wanted her to nail my
prostate and fuck me harder. I just couldn’t. It was too embarrassing.”

Nick sighed. “It’s all in your head, Ty. I think you just need to actually trust the woman before
letting her fuck you. Get a girlfriend, not a one-night stand.”

“Yeah, and what if my girlfriend isn’t into that kind of stuff? It isn’t exactly a question I can
ask on a first date.” Tyler frowned. “Besides, Jessica wasn’t even very good at fucking me. I
had to actually wank the normal way to come, and I haven’t had to do that in weeks!”

Nick missed a step on the treadmill. Swearing, he switched it off and turned to Tyler with a
strange look on his face. “Are you saying you can actually come just from being fucked?”

Tyler blinked, confused. “Yes? Is that unusual?”

Nick let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yes, Ty, it’s a little unusual.”

Tyler processed that information before shrugging. “I guess I’m just that awesome.”

Nick snorted, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel. “You done? I have to go. Zach
and Tristan are getting back from their honeymoon today, and there’s a welcome back thing
I’m not allowed to miss.”

Tyler hopped off the treadmill. “I still can’t believe your brother married a guy. He was
straight!”
Nick laughed. “It’s been years since they got together. Let it go.”

“Did you?” Tyler said, slinging an arm around Nick’s shoulders. “I remember you being pretty
infatuated with your brother’s boyfriend.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t infatuated. Tristan is ridiculously hot, and I’m a gay man with
eyes. That’s all.”

“Still. It must have been weird for you.”

“It was a little awkward at first,” Nick admitted with a wry smile. “Zach still gets kind of tense
when I look at Tristan too long. It’s hilarious.”

Tyler laughed, bumping their shoulders together. “You totally do it on purpose, you prat.”

Nick shrugged with a lazy smile, his gray eyes full of amusement. “We’re brothers. It’s all in
good fun.”

Tyler smiled, shaking his head. As a single child, he sometimes envied Nick his large family.
Nick had four brothers and a sister, and although technically all of them lived separately,
they were a close bunch and often gathered at the house of Nick’s eldest brother, Zach.

“But you aren’t pining after your brother’s husband, right?” Tyler asked, just to make sure.
Sometimes it was hard to read Nick. For all his laid-back attitude, he was pretty tight-lipped
when it came to his feelings and personal life.

Nick chuckled. “I’m not pining. Life is too damn short to get hung up on one bloke. Plenty of
fish and all that.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said, in total agreement, following Nick into the gym shower.

Stripping down and stepping into the closest shower stall, Nick looked at him. “So what are
you going to do now?”

Sighing, Tyler got into the stall next to Nick’s and started the shower. He didn’t know what to
say. He felt like he’d rather die than repeat last night’s fiasco. But the problem was, he
still…he still wanted to be fucked rather than fuck.

“I guess the dildo will do,” he said sulkily when he turned the shower off and got out of the
stall. “I’m sure it’ll get old soon—it has to, right?—and then I’ll go back to hooking up the
normal way.”

Nick pulled out his jeans and a fresh t-shirt from his bag. “You’ll live,” he said dryly. “There’s
plenty of single people who don’t get laid for months.”

“Uh huh,” Tyler said distractedly, glancing at Nick’s soft cock. It was…it was kind of big. Not
that he hadn’t seen Nick’s cock before—he’d seen it plenty of times—but now he
actually looked at it. It must be at least seven and a half inches long when it was hard,
maybe even eight inches if Nick was a grower. It was way bigger than anything Tyler had had
inside him.

“It’s kind of rude to stare at your friend’s junk. Just FYI.”

Tyler flushed and looked up.

Nick had a wry look on his face, his eyebrows raised slightly.

Tyler crossed his arms over his bare chest. “It was there. Anyone would look.”

“You seem to enjoy looking,” Nick said, very dryly, glancing at Tyler’s crotch.

Tyler scowled. He really was half-hard, but it wasn’t his fault! These days anything shaped
like a dildo seemed to turn him on, and apparently Nick’s cock was no exception.
“Sorry, man,” he muttered, extremely embarrassed, and started dressing. “Won’t happen
again. I know it’s not cool to stare.”

Nick didn’t say anything, so Tyler assumed the incident was already forgotten.

***

Except he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About Nick’s cock.

Tyler was beyond embarrassed now—he was freaking out. It was one thing to get off from
having something in his ass, but it was completely another to start imagining a real cock
inside him. A real cock wasn’t a dildo. It was actually attached to another dude. He shouldn’t
be thinking about it, imagining what it would feel like.

But he just couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it. The texture would be softer, so the initial
penetration probably wouldn’t be as uncomfortable. He wouldn’t have to do any of the hard
work: he wouldn’t have to move the dildo and he could just lie there and enjoy the sensation
of being pounded into the mattress. Because that was what he really wanted, if Tyler were
honest with himself: being pounded into. Fucked.

Did it matter if the thing in his ass was attached to another guy? Of course it fucking did.
Tyler wasn’t gay. But Nick…Surely Nick didn’t count. Nick wasn’t just some guy. Nick was his
best mate. Nick knew that all Tyler wanted was to have something hard pounding into him.
Nick knew that Tyler wasn’t gay. So it totally wouldn’t be gay.

Pleased that it all finally made perfect sense in his head, Tyler pulled his phone out and
called Nick.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said when Nick answered.

There was silence on the line.

Tyler frowned and looked at the screen of his phone to make sure the call hadn’t
disconnected. Nope.

Finally, Nick cleared his throat. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” Tyler said, scoffing. “Look, I gave it some thought…”

“Oh God,” Nick muttered.

“Quit making fun of me. I’m serious. It makes perfect sense, man. You’re a gay man. Your
cock. My ass. You get off, I get off, everyone is happy, nothing gets weird.”

Nick let out a strangled laugh. “Did it even occur to you that I might not want to fuck you, you
twat?”

Tyler blinked in bewilderment. “Why wouldn’t you want to fuck me? I’m hot! You’re gay!”

Nick snorted. “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to fuck every good-looking bloke. I
told you: you aren’t my type.”

Tyler scowled, starting to get offended. Not that he wanted his best friend to secretly lust
after him, but it was kind of offensive that he didn’t. “I’m everyone’s type. If I were gay, I’d
totally do me.”

A laugh sounded from the other end of the line. “You take narcissism to a whole new level.”
But then Nick’s voice turned serious. “It’s not a good idea, Ty. Trust me.”

“Why?” Tyler almost whined. His wrist actually hurt from all the exercise it was getting lately.
Suction cup dildo had been seeing a lot of action too, but sometimes he just wanted to lie
back and enjoy himself instead of working for his orgasm. He was a lazy person; so sue him.

“It would make things weird.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Tyler said. “You’ll give me your cock to get off, you get an orgasm out of it,
too. It’s a win-win.”

Nick chuckled. “It’s not actually a turn-on to know that you want to use my cock as a
glorified dildo.”

Tyler frowned. When Nick put it that way, it did sound kind of weird.

“Fine,” he said sulkily. “Forget it. Bye.”

He hung up and looked at his phone.

He only counted to six before it rang.

Tyler grinned. Nick was so predictable, really. For all the shit Nick gave him, he folded like a
cheap lounge chair when Tyler needed his help.

“You’re such a twat,” Nick said with exasperation when Tyler answered. “Someday it won’t
work.”

Tyler beamed. “You love me.”

“I don’t know why,” Nick said with a laugh. “Fine. We’ll do it. But just once. And only if you
promise not have a gay freak-out.”

“Why would I have a gay freak-out? It’s you. It won’t be gay. You know I’m not gay.”

“Yes, Ty, I know,” Nick said, and it sounded as though he was rolling his eyes.
Tyler pouted. Nick never took him seriously! “So when are you coming over?”

There was silence for a short while.

“You want to do it now?” Nick said at last.

“Sure, why not?”

Chapter 5

“Okay, this is awkward,” Tyler said.

“Shut it, it was your brilliant idea.”

Tyler glared at Nick, but it probably didn’t look particularly intimidating considering that he
was naked—that they both were naked.

He’d seen Nick naked before, of course. But somehow, this was different. He eyed Nick
warily: his ripped torso, wide shoulders and strong arms. “This is so weird, man.”

Nick let out a laugh, getting into the bed. “I’m surprised you get laid at all.”

Tyler licked his dry lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure birds and gay blokes totally dig that,
but all that muscle and lack of boobs are kind of weirding me out.”
“But it’s not the boobs that you want, right?” Nick said, very dryly.

Tyler laughed, his gaze flicking down to Nick’s cock. “Not at the moment,” he said, licking his
lips again. He didn’t know how Nick’s cock could look so damn appealing when the rest of
him did nothing for Tyler. Was it weird? It was probably weird. But he bloody loved looking at
Nick’s cock. It actually turned him on: how thick and pretty it looked, even though it wasn’t
fully hard yet.

“Make it hard,” Tyler said.

Nick sighed exasperatedly, but he looked amused rather than annoyed as he took his cock
into his hand and started stroking it, his large fingers handling his cock with ease and
confidence. Tyler tore his gaze from the rapidly hardening cock to glance at Nick’s face. It
was relaxed, Nick’s gray eyes half-lidded as they roamed Tyler’s body, lingering on his
muscular, shapely thighs. A tiny bit relieved that Nick clearly didn’t find him repulsive despite
his continued claims that Tyler wasn’t his type, Tyler looked back at Nick’s cock and spread
his thighs a little. His hole kind of clenched in anticipation.

“Come on, it’s hard enough,” Tyler said. “I already did the prep.”

Nick raised his eyebrows a little. “You want me to just stick it in?”

“Isn’t that the point?”

A few emotions flickered across Nick’s face. “I’ve never fucked anyone without as much as a
kiss.”

Tyler wrinkled his forehead. “You want to kiss me? No way, that would be too weird.”

Nick laughed. “You’re right: I’d better stick my cock in you. Kissing would be too gay.”
Tyler pouted. “Quit making fun of me. You always make fun of me.”

Nick smiled at him and, leaning over, pecked him on the forehead. “Because you’re so
ridiculous. Daft and ridiculous.”

“Hey!” Tyler pulled him into a headlock and they wrestled for a few minutes, laughing.

Finally, they ended up with Nick on top of him, his arms pinning down Tyler’s. “You’ll never
win against me, dummy,” Nick said, grinning obnoxiously. “I have four brothers. I’m basically
a pro at this.”

Tyler glared up at him. “You suck. Get off me, you prat!”

Nick smirked a little. “I thought you wanted me to get in you?”

Tyler wished he could flip him off. But he kind of really wanted to get fucked, so…

“Fine,” Tyler said, spreading his legs. “Put it in.”

Nick gave him a weird look. “Like this? Face to face?”

Confused, Tyler frowned. “Is the angle bad for ass-fucking or something?”

“No,” Nick said after a moment. “We can make it work.”

“Then do it already,” Tyler said impatiently. He hadn’t lost his erection while they wrestled
and neither had Nick. They were good to go.

Nick sighed, reaching for the condom and putting it on with one hand. He lubed up his cock
and glanced between Tyler’s legs. “You sure you don’t want me to prep you?”
“I told you I did it already,” Tyler said, spreading his thighs wider. “Come on.”

Nick didn’t look convinced, but he put a hand on Tyler’s hip, lined up, and finally pushed in.

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut as the thick length—a cock—filled him up slowly. Fuck. Fucking
hell. This felt…

“All right?” Nick said as he bottomed out.

“Yeah,” Tyler said breathlessly, squeezing around the cock in him. Shit, he’d never been so
full. Even his biggest dildo had nothing on Nick’s cock. But it didn’t hurt. Unlike his dildos, the
thing inside him was made of flesh and blood, so it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as his sex
toys. He just felt wonderfully full, the nerve endings in his asshole tingling pleasantly.

“Fuck me,” Tyler said, trying not to moan from the feeling. “I like it hard.”

Nick made a strange, strangled sort of noise, pulled out, and then slammed inside him,
stabbing his prostate.

Tyler cried out, arching off the bed.

Immediately, Nick stopped, looking into his eyes searchingly. “Did I hurt you?”

Tyler glared at him, his face warm. “Do it again!”

Laughing, Nick did it again. And again, and again, and again.

Tyler was only distantly aware that the sounds he was making didn’t even sound human. He
was half-growling, half-whining at every thrust of Nick’s cock. He probably looked and
sounded ridiculous. He didn’t give a shit. It felt so good; he wouldn’t be able to stop the
noises he was making even if his life depended on it. It was just Nick, anyway. Nick had seen
him in much more embarrassing situations. Moaning like a slut from having a cock in him
was still probably in the Top 3, but whatever.

At some point, Nick put Tyler on his hands and knees and started fucking him doggy style.
The position was kind of humiliating—he was being fucked like a goddamn bitch—but
weirdly, it just turned him on.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled breathlessly as Nick pounded into him from behind, Nick’s
hips hitting the backs of his thighs at every thrust.

“Good?” Nick said, his rhythm becoming maddeningly fast, skin slapping against skin.

“Yeah, yeah, so good, don’t stop,” Tyler begged, moaning into the pillow. “You’re the best,
man.”

Nick laughed again and proceeded to fuck Tyler’s brains out.

It didn’t take Tyler long to come, half-sobbing from intense, overwhelming pleasure. His
orgasm seemed to last forever, pleasure rolling through his body, one wave after another as
he twitched around Nick’s cock. God. Holy fucking shit. He felt so damn good. His prostate
orgasms always felt more drawn out and intense than his normal orgasms from cock
stimulation, but this was something else. He even kind of liked that Nick was still moving
inside him, chasing his own orgasm—although Tyler felt overstimulated and sore, it still felt
good in a weird way. Knowing that this was pleasurable to another person made an
enormous difference. Tyler didn’t feel ashamed and pathetic after coming as he usually did.
He felt wonderful. Even Nick’s groan of pleasure when he collapsed on top of him was pretty
gratifying. He’ddone that. He made Nick feel good.

But the fucker was heavy as hell. Tyler put up with it for a few minutes—it was the polite
thing to do after his best mate had just given him the best orgasm of his life, but he couldn’t
fucking breathe. “Ugh, you’re heavy.”

Nick rolled off him and flopped on his back, looking flushed and fucked out.
Tyler snorted, turning onto his back, too. “You need to work on your stamina, man.”

“Fuck you,” Nick said, flipping him off lazily.

“You just did.”

“You’re hilarious, Ty.”

“Thanks, I try.”

His smile fading, Nick looked him in the eye. “You okay? You aren’t freaking out?”

Tyler looked at the ceiling. “There’s nothing to freak out about. Liking a cock in my ass isn’t
gay. It just means that I’m…kinky or something. I’m not suddenly into blokes just because I
like having something in my ass.”

He expected Nick to mock him, but to his surprise, Nick didn’t. “I’ve heard of men who
identify as straight but who love cock,” Nick said neutrally. “They aren’t attracted to men, but
they like getting fucked, and they don’t care who fucks them as long as they get off.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Tyler said, feeling ridiculously relieved that there were other weirdos like
him.

Sighing, Nick closed his eyes. “You mind if I stay the night?”

Tyler snorted. “Since when do you need my permission?” Nick usually just stayed whenever
he felt like it. Tyler had even bought a spare toothbrush for him so the twat would stop using
his.

“Since I put my prick in you,” Nick said, already sounding half-asleep.

Tyler stared at him with a frown. What did that have to do with anything? Nothing had
changed for them. “Are you seriously going to sleep? It’s barely ten!”

“I’ll have you know fucking you is a lot of work. Let a man sleep, Ty.”

Tyler pursed his lips.

Nick chuckled. “Quit pouting. We aren’t twelve anymore.”

“I’m not pouting,” Tyler lied, pouting. Nick’s eyes were closed anyway. How did he know?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nick said. He opened his eyes. “Fine. What do you want to do? FIFA?”

Tyler bit his lip. “Um, let’s fuck again?”

Nick stared at him. “Now?” he said, in a slightly choked voice, incredulity written all over his
face.

Tyler refused to look embarrassed. “What? I’m a young guy with a healthy sex drive.”

“It’s been, like, five minutes. Aren’t you sore? I’m not exactly small.”

Raising his eyebrows, Tyler smirked. “Are you saying you can’t get it up? Lame.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed.

Chapter 6

Nick Hardaway used to think he had a healthy sex life, but after two weeks of fucking his
best friend, he realized how wrong he had been. He had practically been a monk compared
to how often he’d gotten off lately.

Tyler was bloody insatiable. Nick liked to think the men he’d had sex with in the past left his
bed perfectly satisfied, but Tyler…he was something else. He got hard the moment Nick
pulled out his cock, writhing impatiently until Nick finally gave him what he wanted: his cock.
He had never met a guy who was as into being fucked as Tyler was.

Nick had to admit it was a bit of an ego boost that he didn’t even have to touch Tyler’s cock
to make him come on his cock—not that Tyler wanted him to touch his cock. That would be
too gay: Tyler was ridiculous like that. Apparently, having Nick’s cock in him wasn’t gay at all,
but God forbid if Nick touched him with his hands. Nick didn’t know whether to laugh at him
or take offense at that attitude. He wanted to be offended, he really did, but he’d always been
terrible at being angry at Tyler’s general ridiculousness. It was like being angry at a clueless,
overeager puppy that didn’t know better.

“Come on, man,” Tyler whined.

“After the hockey game,” Nick said, his eyes on the TV. The Bruins were absolutely crushing
the Penguins.

“But I’m horny,” Tyler said, flopping down on the couch next to him.

Nick snorted. “You’re always horny.” He kept his eyes on the screen, pretending not to notice
that Tyler’s eyes were fixed unsubtly on his crotch. “Use a dildo if you can’t wait.”

In his peripheral vision, Tyler’s bottom lip stuck out. Christ, he really was such a child
sometimes.

“Don’t want a dildo,” Tyler said, eyeing Nick’s denim-clad crotch. “Want your cock.”
The cock in question twitched. Nick ignored it. He waswatching a good hockey game, and he
wasn’t going to let Tyler distract him from it just because he wanted to use Nick’s prick to
get off.

“Niiiiick,” Tyler said, putting his head on Nick’s shoulder. “Come on.”

Nick heaved a sigh. “Do you think this kind of attitude is a turn-on? The more you whine, the
less arousing it is. Let me watch the damn game.”

“Fine,” Tyler said sulkily. “Though I don’t know why you’re bothering with this game. The
Bruins are gonna win, anyway. Blackburn and Fairley are unstoppable.”

Nick had to admit Tyler had a point. The Bruins had an unbelievable start this season, mostly
thanks to the incredible chemistry between the rookie Fairley and the captain of the Bruins,
Hunter Blackburn. Their line had been on fire, scoring goals every game like it was nothing.

As if hearing Nick’s thoughts, Blackburn received a sick pass from Fairley and sniped the
puck into the net, to the delight of the Bruins’ fans.

“I bet they’re fucking,” Tyler said, watching Blackburn sweep Fairley into a hug.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nick said. “Blackburn is definitely straight. He’s dating that famous
model—forgot her name.”

Tyler shrugged. “Okay, maybe not fucking. But I bet Fairley wants to. Look how he looks at
Blackburn: like he’d drop to his knees right there if only Blackburn says a word.”

Snorting, Nick rolled his eyes. “You’re seeing stuff that isn’t there just because you’re horny.”

Tyler elbowed him. “I’m right! It’s pretty pathetic that even I have a better gaydar than you
do.”
“Yeah, right,” Nick said, returning his eyes to the TV. “Hush now.” He didn’t need to turn his
head to know that Tyler was sulking like the giant baby he was. But for once, Tyler listened
and fell quiet.

They watched the period in silence, and Nick almost dozed off when he felt it: a hand on his
cock.

He flinched, his eyes snapping open. “Tyler.”

“What?” Tyler’s voice was all innocence.

“What are you doing?” Nick said, boring his eyes into Tyler’s face.

Tyler shrugged, his curious gaze on Nick’s crotch. He palmed the outline of Nick’s mostly
soft cock before honest-to-God pouting.

Nick rolled his eyes, knocked Tyler’s hand off his cock, and returned his gaze to the hockey
game.

Except Tyler put his hand back and started feeling up his cock.

“Isn’t groping another man’s cock kind of gay?” Nick grated out, exasperated, even though
his cock started hardening anyway.

“I’m not groping your cock,” Tyler said, his blue eyes locked on Nick’s crotch with terrified
fascination that was equally off-putting and arousing. “I’m…getting it into a working state.
Not much different from washing and lubing up a dildo.”

“Right,” Nick said, torn between laughing and telling Tyler to go fuck himself—literally. He
was also kind of surprised, to be honest—surprised that Tyler was touching his cock at all.
This was the first time Tyler had touched it in the weeks they’d been fucking, though it was
hardly the first time Nick had caught him looking at it.
“I’m glad you’re cool with it, man,” Tyler said, unzipping Nick’s jeans and pulling out his
half-hard cock. “I don’t want things to become weird between us.”

“Sure, Ty,” Nick said, but the sarcasm seemed to fly right over Tyler’s head. He clenched his
jaw as Tyler started stroking his cock. To Nick’s irritation and discomfort, it wasn’t even the
handjob that was doing it for him. The fixated, partly nervous, partly hungry look on Tyler’s
stupidly pretty face was a bigger turn-on than the awkward handie he was receiving. Nick
didn’t know why the hell this was so arousing. Maybe it was because there was something
vaguely wrong about Tylertouching his cock. It felt like a taboo— because it sort of was.
Tyler had always been firmly put in the off-limits category, so this felt wrong, almost
incestuous. Not that he’d ever seen Tyler as a brother, but Tyler was closer to him than his
cousins. And he’d told Tyler the truth: he really wasn’t Nick’s type. Nick tended to gravitate
toward slim, dark-haired guys. Tyler’s tall, muscular body and blond hair seemed a little
strange to him even without taking into account that Tyler was his straight best mate.
Except Nick’s cock didn’t seem to give a damn about his misgivings, hardening only after a
few strokes of Tyler’s hand.

“I like it,” Tyler blurted out, looking at Nick’s erection in his hand. “Your cock. I like how it
looks. It kinda turns me on when it’s hard. Is that weird?”

Nick snorted. “Are you just now realizing that you like my cock?”

Tyler’s gaze darted up to his. “What do you mean?”

Nick’s lips curled. “Besides the obvious, you stare at my prick all the goddamn time, mate.”

“I don’t!”

“You do. You stare, Tyler. Even when we aren’t fucking.”

Tyler’s ears reddened. “I don’t! That would be…”

Nick decided to take pity on him. “I guess it’s natural to feel some curiosity,” he
conceded. “Remember I went down on Liz back when we were fifteen? It didn’t make me
straight.”

Tyler’s expression brightened. “Oh, right! You were curious.”

“I just wanted to make sure I was really gay, not bi,” Nick said, kind of wishing Tyler would
stop stroking his cock. It was really distracting when he was trying to have a conversation
and see Tyler as a mate.

Tyler blinked at him before returning his gaze to Nick’s erection in his hand. “Yeah, you’re
right: going down on a guy once wouldn’t mean anything.”

Nick stared at him. That wasn’t exactly what he had meant.

But before he could say anything, Tyler leaned down and gave his cock a lick.

***

Tyler had genuinely intended to just get a taste, to sate the curiosity he’d been feeling for
ages. He just wanted to know. He wanted to know what the big vein on Nick’s cock would
feel like against his tongue; that was all. But the moment his tongue touched the velvety skin
of Nick’s erection, he kind of…lost himself in the texture and taste of it. He had to lick it
again. And again. And again.

Shit. It tasted good. How could a cock taste so good?

Tyler licked the swollen red head and exhaled shakily as the taste of it assaulted his senses.
Fuck. What if…what if he just took the tip into his mouth? Just the tip? It wouldn’t be too gay,
right?

Deciding that it wouldn’t be toogay, Tyler took the cock head into his mouth and stopped.
Maybe another inch? Or two?
Tyler realized that he had a lot more than “just the tip” when Nick’s cock nudged against his
throat. Fuck. Nick’s thighs were rigid with tension under his hands, but Tyler paid it no mind.
He could only focus on the hard length in his mouth—he had a cock in his mouth, holy shit.

“Teeth,” Nick gritted out. “Cover it with your lips.”

Tyler did as he was told to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t bloody concentrate. He’d
always liked women who kissed aggressively, who knew how to use their tongues. Nick’s
cock stimulated his sensitive mouth just right, making his head spin with pleasure. He just
wanted to keep sucking it, feel the cock rub against the walls of his mouth. It felt so good.
But the position he was in hurt his neck, so Tyler rolled off the couch and dropped to his
knees in front of Nick’s spread thighs.

He moaned a little when he put his mouth back on Nick’s cock, his eyes slipping shut
involuntarily.

“Fuck,” Nick grated out, sounding breathless. “You like this?”

Embarrassment washed over him. Tyler refused to answer, suddenly feeling self-conscious
but unable to stop sucking.

“Yeah, like that,” Nick murmured, laying a hand on Tyler’s head. “You’re doing so well.”

Tyler preened a little, the compliment erasing his self-consciousness. Of course he was
good at it; he was awesome at sex. Tyler felt so pleased that he didn’t even put up a fuss
when Nick’s hand started guiding his head—or when Nick’s hips started thrusting up into his
mouth. To Tyler’s confusion, it just turned him on even more, for some reason.

For a while, there was just the wet, obscene sound of Nick’s cock moving in his mouth.

But when Nick’s breathing became harsh and labored, Tyler pulled off and said, “Nope. You
aren’t coming anywhere but in my ass.”
Nick glared at him. “Then get on with it, you twat.”

Smirking in triumph, Tyler pulled out a pre-lubricated condom from his pocket and rolled it
on Nick’s erection. Shedding his own jeans and boxers, he straddled Nick’s lap, practically
shaking with impatience. He couldn’t believe how turned on he was from sucking a cock.
Was it gay? Maybe a little, but he just had a very sensitive mouth, okay?

“Did you do prep?” Nick said as his cock bumped against Tyler’s hole.

“Of course,” Tyler said, trying to line them up. Admittedly, it was a bit of a chore to prepare
and stretch himself every time he wanted to get fucked. Tyler pouted a little. Women had it
so much easier. At least lately he didn’t need much prep, used to Nick’s girth and always a
little stretched from their previous fuck. Nick usually offered to prep him, but Tyler refused
every time. Even the idea of Nick putting his fingers in his asshole made him flush with
embarrassment. Nick’s cock was one thing—he knew Nick was getting off on it too so he
didn’t feel as self-conscious—but fingers…fingers were different. Besides, the less intimate
this was, the better. He didn’t want to mess up their friendship.

Tyler hissed as he sank slowly onto the cock. He didn’t always like this part much—the initial
weird feeling of having something so big in his ass—but he knew it would get better. So
damn better.

“Easy,” Nick murmured, settling his hands on Tyler’s hips to steady him.

Their eyes met and locked.

Something shifted in Nick’s expression.

Tyler felt his skin become warm. Because of the position, their faces were uncomfortably
close, and it felt…different. More intimate, somehow.

Discomfited, Tyler closed his eyes and started riding Nick slowly, focusing on the wonderful
feeling of a cock moving inside his hole. But it still wasn’t enough. He could fuck himself on
a dildo with the same result. He loved beingfucked. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to do
the hard part; he just wanted…he just wanted to lie back and take it. There was something
about it that incredibly turned him on. Maybe it was the taboo part: men were supposed to
be the takers, after all. Maybe it was something else. Either way, this wasn’t enough. He
wanted to be fucked.

“Ugh, need something different,” he said breathlessly, opening his eyes and focusing them
on Nick with some difficulty. “Wanna be under you.”

A muscle in Nick’s cheek jumped, his gaze very dark. He’d never looked at Tyler with that
kind of intensity during sex. They had always joked and laughed during sex, the banter
preventing things from becoming weird. This definitely felt a bit weird.

But before Tyler could say anything, Nick toppled them over.

What followed was the most intense, brutal fuck of his life. Tyler could only gasp and stare
at the ceiling with glazed eyes as his best friend practically folded him in half and fucking
ravished him, every thrust aimed to hit his prostate perfectly. It was terrifying. It was perfect.
It was everything he’d ever needed.

“Oh God, ah, ah, yes, yes, yes,” Tyler mumbled incoherently. He had been holding his own
legs up and apart, but now he lifted and rested them on Nick’s shoulders while Nick fucked
into him like a jackhammer. Shit, this was perfect—Nick’s cock felt so perfect—

“You’re such a slag,” Nick bit out between his brutal thrusts. “Wanna stuff you so full of my
cock you can’t bloody walk straight for a week—and everyone will know what a cock slut you
are behind your macho front—”

Tyler came, so suddenly it caught him by surprise. He gasped for breath, trying to recover
from the rush of intense pleasure and understand what had just happened. Did he just…Did
he just come from a bit of dirty talk?

Huh.
Why had Nick even talked to him that way? Obviously, Nick hadn’t meant those words, but
how did he know that they would turn Tyler on?

When Tyler managed to focus his gaze, he found Nick staring at him with a very strange
expression.

Nick pulled out and rolled off him.

“Where are you going?” Tyler said in confusion. Nick’s cock still looked hard enough to hurt.

“I have to go,” Nick said, zipping up his fly albeit with some difficulty. His voice sounded a
little off, clipped. He wouldn’t quite meet Tyler’s eyes.

“It’s midnight,” Tyler said, his confusion growing by the second. “You can stay the night.”

Nick shook his head. “I have to go.”

And then he was gone.

Chapter 7

“Are you going to tell us what the hell is wrong with you?”

Nick looked at his brother and snorted, seeing his stern gaze. “I know you’re ancient, but I’m
not exactly a kid anymore, Zach. I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

Zach’s expression didn’t change, his brown brows furrowed as he looked at Nick
inquisitively. “You’ve been brooding. You don’t brood. You aren’t me.”

Nick smiled faintly. It was a bit of a family joke that while Zach and Nick looked creepily
alike but for the color of their hair, they couldn’t be more different as far as their
personalities were concerned. Zach was reserved and responsible, inclined to ordering
people around; Nick was easy-going and laid-back—as long as it didn’t concern something or
someone he truly cared about. If it did, he was prone to being…too intense. Come to think of
it, maybe he was a bit like Zach. Maybe.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nick said at last, focusing his eyes on the FIFA
match between Tristan and James. James was absolutely trouncing his half-brother, which
was kind of hilarious, considering that Tristan was a former football star.

He could feel Zach’s unimpressed gaze even without looking.

“We’ve barely seen you for weeks, but then you turn up at my house and practically move
back into it. Not to mention that your best mate called our bloody landline several times, and
you asked us to lie to him that you weren’t here. What the fuck? Since when do you avoid
Tyler?”

Since I started sticking my cock into him, Nick thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. No, it
wasn’t correct: things had been fine in the beginning. He hadn’t even thought of what he did
with Tyler as real sex—they were just mates who got off together, nothing more. He didn’t
see Tyler as an object of attraction. But that last time, he had looked down at Tyler’s silly
O-face and instead of feeling amused or even affectionate, he’d felt a twinge of pure male
satisfaction and want.

And it had freaked him out.

Nick didn’t want Tyler. He had never wanted Tyler. He’d always resented the idea that gay
men couldn’t be good mates with straight guys without secretly lusting after them. Maybe
avoiding Tyler wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but he didn’t have a better one. He wanted
to sort out his head, and he couldn’t do it if he kept sticking his cock into Tyler every day.

Goddammit, he didn’t want to fuck up their friendship. He had been so reluctant to agree to
Tyler’s insane idea for a reason: too many things could go wrong if people introduced sex
into their friendship. He still hadn’t expected that hewould be the problem: he’d thought Tyler
would be the one to freak out on him. It seemed almost amusing now.

Zach heaved a sigh. “Fine. Don’t talk. But I’m warning you that if you don’t tell me what got
you brooding, Tristan will get it out of you anyway, and he will be a lot more annoying about
it than me.” He sounded exasperated but endlessly affectionate. Loving.

Nick couldn’t deny that a part of him was jealous. Not because of Tristan—he was well over
his crush on Zach’s husband—but of what they had. Nick wanted that, wanted to meet a guy
who’d make him sound so ridiculously in love when he talked about him. He was twenty-five.
He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he wanted something stable. The Hardaway men generally
didn’t do casual. They all were about partners and family. The older Nick got, the truer for
him it was. He did want a relationship. He just didn’t seem to be able to commit to any of his
flings. His friendship with Tyler had pretty much been the only constant in his life for years,
and he would be damned if he lost it because of his prick.

“I think I may have fucked up our friendship,” Nick said with a sigh.

“In what way?” Zach said, his gaze on the FIFA game.

Nick made a face, wondering how he was supposed to explain the situation without making
it sound insane. Not to mention that he didn’t exactly want to tell Zach about Tyler’s sexual
preferences. He might mock Tyler for his totally straight desire to be fucked, but he felt too
protective of him to tell anyone about it.

“I just…I looked at him and had some thoughts I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to have
about my best mate.”

Zach’s gaze flicked to him, his brows drawing together. “He’s…fit,” he said. “Isn’t it natural to
be a little attracted to a fit bloke if you’re gay?”

Nick almost laughed. It was kind of hilarious that Zach was married to a man but had no
experience of being attracted to other men. Zach had been straight as an arrow until he met
Tristan.
“Are you attracted to every beautiful woman?” Nick said, very dryly.

“Okay, you have a point,” Zach said.

“Besides, Tyler isn’t even my type,” Nick said. He shot Tristan a leering look, just to piss Zach
off. “Tristan is.”

Zach snorted, looking unbothered, the fucker. “So what about Tyler? Are you into him now?”

“No,” Nick said quickly. “I’m pretty sure it was just a one-off.”

“Then what’s the problem? Why are you avoiding him?”

Nick pulled a face. While he was pretty sure his thoughts had just been muddled by the sex
and he would feel nothing for Tyler but friendly affection when he wasn’t balls deep in him,
there was still the underlying fear that it wasn’t a one-off. Goddammit, he didn’t want to want
Tyler. Having a thing for one’s straight best mate was a recipe for disaster. It had nearly
ruined Ryan and James’s life-long friendship. Sure, they were together now, but their
relationship had been one hell of a clusterfuck at the time. Back then, his brother had told
Nick that James’s unrequited feelings for him were the worst thing that could have
happened to them. Only their freaky codependency had stopped them from never seeing
each other again.

Tyler and Nick were definitely not codependent, so any awkward one-sided attraction would
eventually end their friendship. He didn’t want that. While hypothetically he could function
perfectly without Tyler, Nick was still fond as fuck of that idiot and didn’t want to lose him.
They’d been friends forever.

“I just need to deal with this shit before seeing Ty again,” Nick said.

“And how are planning to deal with it?”

Nick smiled grimly. First things first: he had to put an end to their fuck-buddying. No fucking,
no problem. The only problem with that plan was that he wasn’t optimistic about his
chances against Tyler’s blue, puppy-dog eyes and sad pout. So he needed a reason—a good
one—to stop what they’d been doing.

“I’ll get a boyfriend,” Nick said.

Chapter 8

“He got sick of me.”

“I think you’ve had enough, mate,” the barmaid said.

Tyler shook his head. He wasn’t drunk. He might be a little tipsy, just a little, but he wasn’t
drunk. Nope, nope, nope.

“He got sick of me,” Tyler said.

The girl sighed. “Yeah, you’ve already said that. Like, ten times.”

Tyler pouted. “You’re sick of me, too. I can tell.”

The barmaid laughed. “Dealing with moping drunks is part of the job description. Trust me,
you aren’t the most annoying one. You’re kind of cute in a pathetic way.”

Tyler frowned, not sure if he was being insulted. Besides, he wasn’t drunk. He was just…he
was just…
He stared at the brown liquid in his glass. “Everyone gets sick of me.”

“Here we go again,” the girl muttered, sounding exasperated.

“They do,” Tyler said, and threw his drink back.

“Go home, mate.”

“Mum once told Dad that she wasn’t surprised that I don’t have any other friends besides
Nick,” Tyler said into his glass. “I overheard.”

He could feel the girl’s eyes on him. She didn’t say anything.

“People get sick of me,” Tyler mumbled. “They always do. I’m too much—too needy.” He
knew he was likable—at first. People always said he was easy to be around. He was loud, a
little cocky, a bit of a whore for attention, but always well-meaning. People generally didn’t
mind him. He’d always had plenty of buddies—but just one friend. Nick was the only friend
who’d stuck around for years, the only one who hadn’t eventually gotten tired of him, the only
one who didn’t seem to mind his dumb jokes, his immaturity and his neediness. Everyone
but Nick always told him to grow up. Nick was the only one who seemed to like him the way
he was.

But it looked like Nick had finally gotten sick of him, too. It was probably bound to happen. If
his own parents found him a total disappointment, of course Nick would get sick of his shit
too. It was inevitable. So there was no reason to be so upset. It was fine. He could deal.

Tyler bit his trembling lip, hating himself a little for his inability to be tough. Fuck, why was he
such a mess? Men were supposed to be tough; his dad always said so. His dad hadn’t even
cried at Tyler’s granddad’s funeral. If his dad could do it, Tyler could fucking deal with his
best mate avoiding him and refusing to take his calls.

“I don’t miss him,” he said stubbornly. “Screw him.”

The girl sighed, sounding long-suffering, as if it wasn’t the first time Tyler had said that
tonight.

Maybe it wasn’t.

Tyler’s shoulders slumped.

“I do miss his cock,” he said wistfully.

“Okay, you’ve definitely had enough,” the barmaid said, looking at him with a crooked smile.
“Go home and sleep it off, pretty boy. I’m sure your boyfriend will answer your calls
eventually.”

Tyler scowled, his stomach clenching into something uncomfortable. “He’s not—not my
boyfriend. I’m not gay.”

“Ah.”

Tyler looked at her suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The girl shrugged. “Whatever. Anyway, my advice is the same: go sleep it off. Things will
look better in the morning.”

“It doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Sleeping it off,” Tyler said. “I keep waiting, and hoping, but nope. I’m still me, and I’m still the
same loser he got sick of.”
The girl heaved a sigh. Her eyes were almost the exact shade of Nick’s. “For Christ’s sake.
Are you sure he wasn’t your boyfriend? I definitely didn’t mope this much when my actual
boyfriend dumped me a while back.”

Tyler shook his head with a weak laugh. “I told you I’m not gay. I’m not moping. I’m just…”

“Getting smashed,” the girl said, very dryly. “You sure look like you aren’t moping.”

Tyler glared at her, but it was half-hearted at best. He didn’t feel too good, both physically
and emotionally. He was just…so damn tired. Tired of not knowing what the hell he wanted
from his life, tired of his inability to be someone people would want to stick around for.

Maybe if he were a better person, someone more put together, someone more selfless and
less pushy, Nick wouldn’t have gotten sick of him. Maybe if he hadn’t pressured Nick into
fucking him, Nick would have still been his friend.

A friend? a voice at the back of his mind said.

Yes, friend, Tyler told himself stubbornly. Nick was more important to him than a few great
orgasms. He could survive without Nick’s cock, but he definitely didn’t want to lose the best
mate who had always been there for him. Maybe Nick had been right and it was a mistake to
mix friendship with sex, but it wasn’t like he could tell Nick that when he wasn’t answering
his calls.

“Gimme another bottle,” Tyler told the barmaid.

“Nope,” she said. “You’ve definitely had enough. Look, go home. Or call your boyfriend and
tell him to take you home.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Tyler said, his brows furrowed in confusion. He thought he’d already
told her that. Or hadn’t he? “I’m not even his type,” he mumbled. “He doesn’t want me, not
like that. Even if I were gay—and I’m not—he wouldn’t choose someone like me.” Tyler’s lips
twisted. “He’d never choose someone like me. I’m…I’m me. He always goes for interesting,
successful guys, not losers like me.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself, buddy. Like, I don’t know you, but didn’t you say
you manage a pub?”

Tyler shook his head. “It’s my granddad’s. And it isn’t much. I barely make enough to cover
my bills. Someone smarter could maybe make it profitable. My parents don’t think it’s a real
job anyway…think I’m too stupid to get a real one. Nick probably thinks so, too. He’s…he’s
smart. Not like me. I dunno why he’s stuck around for so long...No one does.” He smiled
crookedly. “Even my parents gave up on me when I told them I was faking it. They think I’m
going to hell for not really believing in their God. Like, I sometimes believe in him, maybe, but
I don’t, like, believe believe, and they take it as a personal insult.” He snorted a laugh.
“Though they still think ‘it’s just a phase,’ as if I’m doing it just to spite them. They don’t take
me seriously. No one bloody does.”

The barmaid was frowning now. “Okay, you have more issues than I thought. Maybe try
dealing with them one at a time? You’re kind of a mess. No offense.”

Tyler didn’t take offense. He was a mess. One didn’t get offended by the truth.

“I don’t know how,” he told her, looking at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

She sighed. “Please don’t do that. Your baby blues are stupidly effective.”

Tyler nodded. “They always work. Even on Nick, even though he denies it.” Or at least they
had worked on Nick.

Tyler’s shoulders slumped. “Why is he ignoring my calls?”

The girl sighed and turned to another customer.

Tyler hunched over the bar, feeling very sorry for himself.
Chapter 9

When Nick finally answered his goddamn phone after two weeks of being AWOL, Tyler
wasn’t in a very forgiving mood.

“Where the hell have you been?” he hissed, more than a little angry—and hurt. To be fair, they
had never been attached at the hip and they’d gone longer than two weeks without seeing
each other. But this time it had felt…different. Besides, Nick had always answered when
Tyler called him. Always. Even when they didn’t hang out for months, they usually texted or
talked on the phone. This time Nick had clearly been avoiding him.

“Sorry, I was just caught up in something,” Nick said.

“In something,” Tyler said flatly, deeply unimpressed. What was so important that Nick
totally ignored him for weeks?

“Someone,” Nick said. “I’ve met a guy. His name is Brad. He’s a law student too.”

Tyler stared at the opposite wall unseeingly, feeling blindsided by the news.

“Brad?” he said at last. “He sounds like a prat. Brad the Prat. Brad is, like, in the Top 5
douchiest names in the world.”

“You’re such a child, Ty.” Nick sounded as though he was smiling. “He’s a sweetheart. We’ve
been on a few dates already. I really like him. He’s just my type.”

Tyler decided he didn’t like this Brad person. For a moment, he wasn’t sure why he felt so
strongly about a guy he hadn’t even met. Then he realized something: if Nick was dating
someone, that would mean he would stop... Boyfriends generally weren’t okay with their
significant others fucking someone else.
Tyler pursed his lips. “But what about me?”

There was silence on the line.

“You?” Nick said at last.

Tyler frowned. Wasn’t it obvious what he meant? Was Nick going to force him to say it
aloud?

“That Brad person probably wouldn’t allow you to fuck me on the side,” Tyler said.

“You’re probably not wrong,” Nick said, his voice extremely dry.

“Nick.” Tyler was aiming for reproachful, but his voice came out all wrong, whiny and pouty.
What was it about Nick that reduced him to a total child? It was seriously baffling.

Nick laughed. “Don’t, Ty. Just don’t. Surely you don’t think I’ll put my personal life on hold
until you get over your fixation on cock?”

Tyler frowned again. “But you’re my best mate,” he said, but it came out unsure. After the
past few weeks, he wasn’t exactly as confident about it as he used to be.

“I’m pretty sure fucking you isn’t among my duties as a best friend,” Nick said. He no longer
sounded amused. Tyler wasn’t sure what was in Nick’s voice, but whatever it was, he didn’t
like it.

“Of course it’s not your duty,” he said quickly. “I just…” His face became hot. Tyler cleared his
throat. “Never mind. You’re right. You should totally date whoever you want. I’ll—I’ll figure
something out.”

He hung up, feeling ridiculously upset for no reason. This was pathetic. He wasn’t some kind
of…cock slut. He could totally be friends with Nick without wanting his cock. Even if
he were a cock slut, it wasn’t necessarily for Nick’s cock. Any cock would do. In theory.

Tyler’s phone went off. It was Nick.

“What do you mean you’ll figure something out?” Nick said when Tyler answered.

Tyler pressed his lips together. Why was it Nick’s business? Nick was free to date that little
prat of his; he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about Tyler at all. First he ignored Tyler for
weeks, now this.

“There are always sex toys.” Tyler hoped his voice didn’t sound as unenthusiastic as he felt.
A dildo wasn’t the same. No matter how realistic it looked, it wasn’t even close to the real
thing. Not to mention that fucking himself with a sex toy took a lot of effort—his wrist
fucking ached afterward—and he wasn’t as good at it as Nick was, which Tyler wasn’t
embarrassed to admit. Nick was a gay man; it made sense that he would be better at
fucking guys than a straight guy like Tyler.

“And you aren’t the only man with a cock, right?” Tyler added with forced humor, trying to
ignore his uneasiness. He couldn’t imagine trusting some stranger—some gay dude he didn’t
know and who might get the wrong idea about him—to fuck him in Nick’s stead.

“Right,” Nick said, his tone difficult to read, before falling silent.

The silence stretched, becoming uncomfortable.

Tyler chewed on his lip, feeling confused by the strange tension. His and Nick’s friendship
had always been easy. It had no place for weird silences.

At last, Nick said tersely, “Good luck, then.”

And hung up.

Just like that.

Tyler glared at his phone, ugly disappointment churning in the pit of his stomach. After
weeks of Nick’s absence, this wasn’t the reunion he’d had in mind. He’d thought…He’d
thought Nick would have a good reason for ignoring him. Brad the Prat wasn’t a good
reason, dammit.

Were they even friends anymore?

Was Nick really sick of him?

Hating how insecure and upset he felt, Tyler cut off that train of thought.

His jaw set, he downloaded the Grindr app onto his phone. He didn’t bloody need Nick. He
could totally be fine without Nick.

And he was going to prove it.

Chapter 10

His name was Greg. He was twenty-seven, and he liked working out and fucking guys into
the mattress—at least that was he’d told Tyler when they’d texted.

“Wow, you’re hot,” was the first thing Greg said when Tyler opened the door of the hotel
room he’d rented.

Tyler stepped away when the guy tried to kiss him. “I told you—no kissing,” he ground out,
crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not gay. Don’t touch me.”
Greg laughed, flashing his straight white teeth. “It will be difficult if you want my prick in you,
but whatever. You ain’t the first ‘straight’ guy thirsty for cock that I’ve fucked.”

Tyler glared at him, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. He shifted from one foot to
the other, undressing slowly while Greg quickly stripped down. He wasn’t aroused in the
least. He felt absolutely nothing except for the growing urge to run. What was he doing here?
He wasn’t gay.

Even Greg’s hard cock wasn’t doing it for him. It looked weird. It wasn’t as straight as Nick’s;
it was curved to the left. And although it was about the same size as Nick’s, it was nowhere
near as pretty and mouthwatering. Tyler tried not to dwell on the fact that it was probably a
cause for concern that he thought of his best mate’s cock as “mouthwatering.”

“Come on,” Greg said. Fully naked, he sat down on the bed, stroking his fat cock lazily before
rolling a condom on. “Be a good straight boy and ride my cock. You know you want to.”

Tyler stared at the cock, trying to convince himself that it would feel good once he actually
got it inside him. Wasn’t this what he wanted? It was. It had been weeks since he’d been
fucked for real. He missed the feeling of a thick cock driving into him, missed losing himself
in the pleasure of it. Dildos didn’t come anywhere close to the real thing. Anyway, Greg’s
cock didn’t look all that bad. It was nice and thick and it would probably feel good. Tyler
imagined it fucking him, and finally felt a jolt of arousal.

But then he made the mistake of glancing at the naked man the cock was attached to and it
instantly killed his arousal. Like, it wasn’t as though Tyler had ogled Nick’s body during sex
or something—Nick’s cock was the only thing he’d ever been interested in—but Nick’s body
was…very nice to look at, objectively. Like, Tyler was straight, not blind. He could appreciate
Nick’s toned muscles and well-groomed body even if they didn’t exactly turn them on. Nick
had always smelled good, his skin clean and smooth. So yeah, Tyler didn’t mind looking at
Nick. In contrast, Greg’s shoulder acne, hairy chest, and beer belly were kind of revolting.

Tyler frowned, beyond frustrated with himself. He didn’t understand. A nice cock was the
only thing he had come here for, right? The rest of Greg’s body shouldn’t matter—he wasn’t
gay to be interested in dudes’ bodies—but for some reason, it did matter. He’d never been
less turned on in his life.

“Mate, I don’t have all night,” Greg said, starting to sound annoyed. “Are you one of
those ‘straight’ blokes who can’t make up their mind? I was promised a fuck. Get over here,
dammit.”

Tyler took a step back, eyeing the guy warily. He only now noticed that there was a slur to
the guy’s voice and his face was suspiciously red. Greg wasn’t sober. How the hell had he
missed that?

“I…” he said uncertainly, taking another step back. “Look, man, I’m sorry, but I don’t wanna do
it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Greg gritted out, his fists clenching. They were huge, Tyler
noted with growing uneasiness. Greg glowered at him. “I drove to the other end of the city at
ass o’clock for this bullshit?”

“Look, there’s no need to be upset—”

“I’ll fucking show you upset, you little cocktease!” Greg strode toward him, his expression
downright menacing.

It was pure self-preservation, not cowardice: Tyler ran into the bathroom and locked it. Greg
pounded on the door, swearing and yelling at Tyler.

“Calm the fuck down,” Tyler said, both to himself and to Greg. He wasn’t a pussy. He could
totally stand his own against that guy, no matter how huge those fists looked. He worked
out, for fuck’s sake. He was in great shape.

Except having the muscles didn’t mean much if you didn’t know how to use them. He’d never
been in a real fight. The last time he’d been in one he was fifteen, and even then he hadn’t
actually had to fight. Nick had done it for him.

Nick.

He could call Nick. Nick would know what to do.

Incredibly happy that he still had his jeans on and his phone was in his pocket, Tyler pulled it
out and dialed the familiar number.

“Are you joking?” Nick said when Tyler explained the situation. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“There’s a drunk, angry, horny bloke outside the bathroom,” Tyler hissed, wincing as Greg
shoved hard against the door. “Come here and chase him away. You can make fun of me
later.”

Nick hung up.

Tyler could only hope that meant that Nick was in a hurry to get to him instead of going back
to sleep. Had he written down the address Tyler had told him?

“Look, there’s no need to be upset,” he tried again, raising his voice.

“Come out, you prick!” The door rattled again.

Tyler sighed and slid down to the floor, figuring he might as well get comfortable until Nick
arrived. He half-hoped Greg would get bored and leave, but as drunk people often tended to
be, the guy seemed to be stupidly stubborn and hell-bent on “teaching him a lesson.” It didn’t
even seem as though he’d gotten dressed. Fuck, Nick was never going to let him live it
down—if Nick came at all.

Tyler frowned. Calling Nick—expecting Nick to deal with his mess—was an instinctive
reaction, a deeply ingrained habit after years of friendship, but maybe he shouldn’t have
done it. They still hadn’t met up after that weird phone call the other day, and the few texts
they’d exchanged were oddly strained and awkward. Tyler had no clue where they stood with
each other. Part of him was still pissed off at Nick for his disappearing act, and irritated with
him for choosing to hang out with some Brad person instead of him.

But he also missed his best mate.

What if he doesn’t come?

Tyler tried to push the thought away, but it refused to go. After the last few weeks, he didn’t
exactly feel secure where his friendship with Nick was concerned. If Nick didn’t come…

Well, that would answer once and for all the question of whether Nick was sick of him or not,
wouldn’t it?

Chapter 11

Tyler didn’t know how long he waited. He tried not to look at his phone—he didn’t want to
keep checking it like an obsessed person.

Finally, he heard some noises that weren’t Greg’s insults.

“Get dressed and get out,” Nick’s voice said.

Tyler’s shoulders sagged in relief.

He’d come.

“Who do you think you are?” Greg gritted out, still sounding pissed off.

Tyler felt a twinge of concern. Due to having so many brothers, Nick was a lot better at
fighting than he was, but Greg’s fists could still do some substantial damage. Tyler
contemplated leaving the bathroom and helping Nick out, but before he could do anything,
Nick bit off, “Get out.”

There must have been something convincing on his face, because Greg actually seemed to
give up, grumbling something under his breath. Before long, Tyler heard the door slam shut.

“Tyler?”

Tyler stood, unlocked the door, and gave Nick his best sheepish look. “Thanks, man. You’re a
lifesaver!”

A muscle twitched in Nick’s jaw, his gray eyes stormy as he pinned Tyler with a withering
look. It kind of made Tyler nervous. It was very, very hard to truly piss Nick off, but it wasn’t
pretty when it happened.

“What did you think you were doing?” Nick bit out, grabbing Tyler’s shoulders and shaking
him. “Meeting a total stranger—a drunk stranger—in some dingy place, where no one would
give a shit if he raped you or fucking murdered you?”

“How was I supposed to know he would turn up drunk?” Tyler said, not appreciating Nick’s
tone.

Nick glowered. “You could have told him to leave when you saw that he wasn’t sober—you
know, before he got naked and horny. Are you that desperate for cock?”

Tyler felt his ears burn. “You’re starting to piss me off, man.”

“Me?” Nick said, his fingers digging into his shoulders, hard. “It’s fucking two in the morning,
I have class in a few hours, but I have to rescue your ass from some drunk git because
you’re thirsty for cock but too much of a chicken to act like an adult about it.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler bit off, trying to free himself from Nick’s grip. “You shouldn’t have come if it
was such a bother.” Hating how thick his voice got and hoping to distract Nick, Tyler went on
the offensive. “Whyare you so angry? You’ve saved me from far more ridiculous situations. I
thought you’d mock me, not chew me out. What the hell? Why are you so pissed off?”

Nick’s jaw tightened. “I’m pissed off,” he said, very evenly, “because you’re too bloody
careless. You could have gotten hurt, Tyler. Even if that bloke weren’t drunk, you could have
gotten hurt. You sound pretty damn offensive when you start spouting shit about not being
gay, as if being gay is something terrible. I don’t take offense because I know you don’t
mean it that way, but random strangers wouldn’t know that. I’m angry because I was worried,
you twat.”

Tyler frowned, his anger draining out of him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze. He hadn’t realized that what he said sounded
offensive. He was used to being able to say anything to Nick without offending him; he
hadn’t realized that other people might take his words the wrong way.

Nick sighed, tugging him into a loose hug. “Just don’t do it again,” he said.

Tyler put his arms around Nick’s waist, hugging him back. The hug felt a little strange but so
damn good, just what he needed after the weeks of uncertainty and self-doubt. Nick’s
familiar scent was weirdly calming, and Tyler found himself tightening his arms around him,
closing his eyes and relaxing. It felt as though he was breathing freely for the first time in
weeks. Nick was still his best mate. Everything was right with the world.

“I would have chickened out even if he weren’t drunk,” he said quietly, pressing his nose to
the juncture between Nick’s neck and shoulder.

Nick snorted. “Too gay?”

“Kinda,” Tyler admitted, and tensed as Nick’s hands slid up and down his bare back. The
gesture was probably supposed to be comforting, but his sex-starved body still seemed to
associate Nick with mind-blowing orgasms, so the touch was turning him on instead. A little
embarrassed by his totally inappropriate arousal, Tyler tried to keep their hips apart so that
Nick wouldn’t notice his hardening cock. “Like, now I know for sure I’m definitely not gay. I
couldn’t imagine letting that guy fuck me. I didn’t even want his cock—not really.”
For a long moment, Nick said nothing, his hands on the small of Tyler’s back.

“You want mine.” It was a statement, uttered in a strange tone.

“No, I mean…” Tyler licked his lips. It had been weeks. “I do miss it,” he mumbled, glad that
Nick couldn’t see his flushed face.

“My cock,” Nick stated, in the same strange, clipped tone.

Tyler nodded. “I know: you’re dating someone,” he said sulkily. Did it make him a bad person
that he didn’t give a shit about that Brad person? He was just a name. It was so
bloody unfair. Brad had known Nick for a few weeks. Tyler had been his best friend since
they were kids. Surely that gave him more right to Nick’s cock?

Tyler bit his lip to keep himself from saying it, because he realized how ridiculous it
sounded. “Have you fucked him yet?”

His hands gripping Tyler’s shoulders, Nick pushed him back to study his face. “What’s it to
you?” he said, his face inscrutable, his eyes gleaming with some emotion Tyler couldn’t read.

Tyler shrugged, avoiding his gaze. His thoughts sounded daft, even in his own head. He
just…he didn’t like thinking of Nick’s cock in some pretty, dark-haired gay guy. Even
imagining it made his fists clench and his teeth ache from how hard he was gritting them.

Nick laughed. There was something unfamiliar in that laugh, some sharp edge Tyler didn’t
like.

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Nick said. “You are very straight, you aren’t into me, but you
think my cock is your property. Is that right?”

Tyler looked down, his face warm.

“Answer me,” Nick said, taking his chin and forcing him to look him in the eye. “Is that right,
Tyler?”

Tyler eyed him warily, his stomach fluttering with nerves. It was weird, but the man speaking
to him sounded nothing like his best friend. It was like looking at a different person, a total
stranger. There was none of the exasperated, long-suffering affection Nick usually looked at
him with. Instead, there was something mean and hard in Nick’s eyes.

“I asked you a question,” Nick said flatly.

“I don’t like your tone,” Tyler said, trying to hide his discomfort. “I’m your best mate,
remember?”

A crooked, bitter smile appeared on Nick’s lips. “But you don’t want your best mate.” His
hand slipped down to Tyler’s ass and squeezed, making Tyler stare at him in shock. Nick
watched him with dark, inscrutable eyes. “All you want is cock. You’re nothing but a cock
slut.”

“You’re going to get punched if you don’t cut it out,” Tyler said, glowering at him. For some
mysterious reason, he had a boner, but that was totally irrelevant.

Nick smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Remember that porn we once stole from your cousin
when we were thirteen? About a pretty blond girl who spent all her time on her back. She was
always desperate for it, her pussy wet and swollen all the goddamn time. She let anyone with
a cock fuck her. She didn’t care if it was a mail boy, or a pizza guy, or her teacher—it didn’t
matter, as long as she had a long, fat cock in her.”

Tyler licked his dry lips, his heart pounding. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Nick looked him in the eye and pressed his fingers against Tyler’s crack, the pressure
maddening even through the denim. “You’re just like her. A cock slut. All you want is cock. I
bet if you had a pussy, you would be dripping all the time.”
A small whine left Tyler’s lips. He stared at Nick, wide-eyed.

Nick studied him for a moment, his gaze dark and assessing. Then he slipped his finger
under Tyler’s jeans and stroked lightly over Tyler’s sensitive hole. Nick’s nostrils flared. “See?
You’re fucking wet.”

Spluttering, Tyler glared at him. So he’d prepped himself while he waited for Greg. It didn’t—it
didn’t make him wet. What was Nick playing at?

“Look at you,” Nick said, rubbing his finger over his hole. “You’re all wet and eager already
and I barely touched you.” Nick pushed a finger in and Tyler shuddered, his hole clenching
around it.

“Do you want my cock in your pussy?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Tyler said weakly, even though his body was pushing back onto
Nick’s finger. Fuck, he’d never felt so desperate for anything in his life and so freaked out at
the same time. This was Nick’s finger in his asshole. For some reason, it seemed more
taboo than having Nick’s cock in him. This was dirty, and wrong, and gay.

Nick leaned in and murmured into his ear, “Do you want my cock in your cunt, Ty?”

“Fuck you,” Tyler said, but it came out as a moan. He didn’t understand why Nick was doing
it, why he was being so mean to him, why he was saying those things—things that went
straight to his cock, for some stupid reason.

“Look how wet you are for me,” Nick said, slipping his other hand between them and
touching the damp spot on Tyler’s jeans where he was leaking pre-come. He started stroking
Tyler’s cock weirdly, as if it were…as if it were a clit.

Tyler pressed his forehead against Nick’s shoulder, his breathing harsh and his heart
pounding. He didn’t know why this was turning him on. He wasn’t a woman. He didn’t have a
goddamn pussy. He was a guy. A straight guy. This shouldn’t be so damn arousing.
Nick pulled his finger out.

Tyler whined. “Nick.”

“Want my cock?”

“Please.”

Nick’s teeth grazed against his ear. “Do you want it in your cunt?”

Tyler bit his lip, hard. He refused to say that. “Why are you being such a prick?”

“Do you want my cock in your cunt?” Nick said again, harder, pushing his finger against
Tyler’s perineum.

“Yes!” Tyler snapped. He was totally going to get back at Nick for this—after Nick finally gave
him what he wanted.

“Then be a good girl: lose your clothes, get on that bed, and spread your legs for me.”

Flushed from humiliation and anger—and ridiculous arousal—Tyler did as he was told.

Stretched out on the bed, he watched Nick undress unhurriedly, his hooded eyes on Tyler’s
naked body. There was still something dark and unfamiliar in his gaze, that mean edge that
made Tyler both nervous and horny as hell.

Tyler licked his lips as Nick removed his jeans and his cock sprang free. His mouth watered
at the sight of it. Shit, he wanted to suck it.

But Nick didn’t let him. Naked, he walked to the nightstand and reached for the supplies
Tyler had put there. Rolling on the condom, Nick looked at him, his gaze roaming over Tyler’s
naked body unashamedly.

At that moment, Tyler realized that Nick was done playing the role of an indulgent best
friend. Nick was done treating him with kid gloves. Nick was angry enough not to care about
Tyler’s reservations about gay sex. Nick was just going to take what he was offering.

Tyler watched breathlessly as Nick lubed up his hard cock. He couldn’t look away. He
couldn’t stop staring hungrily at Nick’s strong, big fingers stroking that fat, red cock. Fuck,
maybe he was a cock slut. Nothing had ever turned him on more than that cock.

Nick got in the bed.

Tyler shivered as Nick’s muscular body covered his own.

Nick’s face was looming above him as he stared down at Tyler.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Nick stated. “And if you want my cock, you will kiss me back.”

Tyler’s heart sped up. “What are you playing at? Stop—stop that!”

Something shifted in Nick’s eyes, a flicker of something that could have been remorse but
wasn’t.

“Is it too gay for you?” Nick said, his lips twisting. “Then get out of the bed.”

Tyler glared, but he didn’t move. Despite the panicky feeling in his gut that insisted that this
was wrong—he had a naked, aroused man on top of him who was going to kiss him—Tyler
couldn’t move, his cock painfully hard against Nick’s hip.

He looked from Nick’s inscrutable, hard eyes to his lips, and swallowed.
Nick’s mouth was getting closer and closer until their lips were a breath apart, Nick’s naked
body crushing him. Nick had always been so careful to keep a certain distance from him,
careful not to freak him out during sex. Now he was doing the opposite—it almost seemed
as though he wanted to freak Tyler out, wanted to overwhelm him.

Nick’s tongue darted out and licked Tyler’s bottom lip.

Tyler gasped, his heart hammering in his chest, his whole body tense.

Nick’s tongue slipped inside his mouth, his teeth grazing against Tyler’s lip, his stubble
scratching his chin. Tyler shuddered, a whine rising in his throat. Nick took his chin in one
hand and kissed him hard and deep, his tongue exploring Tyler’s mouth, so damn confident
and forceful it quickly overwhelmed Tyler. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like how emasculated
the kiss made him feel, as though he were some kind of girl—a virgin girl—who’d never
kissed anyone. He didn’t know what to do with his mouth, how he was supposed to move his
lips. He could only part his lips and let Nick do whatever he wanted, small sounds slipping
out of his mouth involuntarily. He didn’t like it. It was too intense and strange, Nick’s stubble
making it glaringly obvious that he was being kissed by a man.

But it felt like his body was melting, his knees going weak and his limbs boneless. It was a
good thing he was lying down; he wouldn’t be able to stand. His head was spinning. He
couldn’t keep his eyes open, overwhelmed by the force of the kiss. He—he hated it.

Tyler whined when the kiss ended, feeling weird, hungry, and confused. He gripped Nick’s
wide shoulders, needing—

Nick’s mouth moved down his neck, sucking hickeys into his skin. His tongue licked Tyler’s
nipple and Tyler whined, long and embarrassingly high.

Nick gave a hoarse chuckle. “Want me to suck on your tits?”

Tyler moaned, so turned on he couldn’t even get properly offended by the shit Nick was
saying.
“Say it,” Nick said, flicking his tongue over Tyler’s sensitive nipple, the touch maddening. It
wasn’t enough.

“Suck on my tits,” Tyler said, too aroused to be embarrassed.

Nick’s mouth closed around his nipple and sucked.

Tyler arched off the bed, an inhuman sound leaving his throat. “Oh yeah, fuck—more,” he
demanded breathlessly.

Nick obliged, sucking gently on his tit—his nipple, dammit—his hand kneading the other.

“You ready for my cock, sweetheart?” Nick said, his voice sounding nothing like his normal
one. He sucked hard on the other nipple. “Are you nice and wet for me?”

“I’m going to punch you for this shit later,” Tyler said weakly, grinding his crotch against
Nick’s stomach. He was so fucking hard. “Get in me, you prick.”

Nick removed his mouth from his chest, releasing his aching nipple, and moved up until his
hips were between Tyler’s spread thighs. Nick’s glazed eyes looked from Tyler’s erection to
his face.

“You don’t look very offended to me,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock against Tyler’s
hole, teasing him. “I don’t know why you would be offended, anyway.” Nick’s voice was light,
but there was a nasty edge to it. “If you aren’t a homo but want a cock in you, that makes
you a woman, doesn’t it? It’s only logical.”

Tyler didn’t know what to say to that. He could only stare at Nick dazedly, gasping a little
every time Nick’s cock bumped against his sensitive hole. “You’re being a right asshole,” he
managed.
“No,” Nick said, spreading Tyler’s thighs wider and pressing his cock in. “I’m just done
coming up with excuses for your shit.”

Tyler’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Nick’s cock finally filled him up. Although
he’d prepped himself and he’d been using sex toys, it had been weeks since he’d had
something as big as Nick in him. Goddammit, he missed this, this feeling. He even liked the
way his thighs were stretched, spread wide to accommodate Nick’s hips between them;
weirdly, it just turned him on more. He felt slutty and helpless and he loved that.

Nick’s eyes were half-closed, his jaw tight as if he were in pain. “Good?” he said, his tone
clipped.

Tyler nodded weakly, clenching around the cock inside him. “So good,” slipped out of his
mouth before he could stop himself. “Love your cock.”

Nick looked at him without a smile, something grim and hard about his expression. “Say
thank you.”

“What?” Tyler let out a laugh.

Nick didn’t laugh.

“Say thank you,” he said, pulling out and driving right against Tyler’s prostate. Crying out,
Tyler arched off the bed, his fingernails digging into Nick’s back. Nick gave another short,
vicious thrust against his prostate. “Thank me for my cock.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, man?” Tyler managed, but it didn’t sound very convincing,
considering that it came out as a breathless moan. It felt so good, the thick length inside him
just perfect, moving in him just right. Shit, nothing felt better than lying on his back and
taking Nick’s cock.

“I’m absolutely serious,” Nick said. “You missed my cock, and I’m giving it to you. The least
you can do is thank me. I’m waiting.” And then the fucker stoppedmoving.
Tyler glared at Nick, incredulous and desperate in equal measure. When it became obvious
that Nick wasn’t budging on this, Tyler gritted out, “What do you want me to say, you
wanker?”

“Say: thank you for your cock, Nick. I missed having it in my pussy.”

Tyler spluttered. “Fuck off. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m saying that!” He didn’t
understand why Nick was so determined to humiliate him—and he didn’t understand why it
didn’t disgust him as much as it should, why those words made his cock throb.

Nick just looked at him steadily. The bead of sweat running down forehead was the only
thing betraying that it was hard for him to be so still inside him. “Fine,” he said, and started
pulling out.

“Wait!”

Nick stilled and looked back at him, the tip of his cock tickling Tyler’s entrance. It was
maddening.

Biting his bottom lip, Tyler gave Nick a pleading look. “I didn’t—I don’t really get why you’re
so angry at me, but I’m sorry anyway. Come on, man—”

Nick glowered at him. “Don’t. You can’t just give me puppy eyes and expect me to forgive
you everything. It won’t work anymore.”

But—but that was how they worked: Tyler did something dumb, he gave Nick his best
sheepish smile, and Nick forgave him everything with an exasperated look. Tyler didn’t know
what he was supposed to do if that didn’t work anymore. How was he supposed to make
Nick forgive him for whatever he did? He didn’t know how to handle this unfriendly, mean
Nick.

Maybe he could just say whatever Nick wanted him to? It wouldn’t kill him, right?
“Thank you!” he blurted out. “Thank you for giving me your cock—I missed having it in my—in
my…” Tyler blushed furiously, his cock going so hard it made him breathless. “In my pussy,”
he whispered, looking Nick in the eye.

Nick’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His hips jerked, slamming his cock inside, and Tyler moaned,
embarrassingly high-pitched. Nick leaned down and kissed him, hard and greedy. Tyler
parted his lips eagerly, too far gone to care about how gay it was. He just wanted. He
squirmed against Nick’s hard body as Nick ground into him, hard but slow, circling and
eliciting all kinds of intoxicating sensations. Nick’s cock pressed against his prostate, and
Tyler shuddered, his head thrown back, his arms clinging to Nick’s shoulders. They moved
together, low moans and grunts accompanying the slapping sounds of their bodies. Tyler
could also hear himself say some embarrassing shit, but he didn’t seem to be able to stop.

“Oh, oh fucking hell yeah—yeah, yeah, just like that. Harder—so good—ah—ah—ahhh—”

Fuck, he was so close, so damn close—

A firm hand wrapped around his neglected cock and stroked, once.

Tyler arched off the mattress and came, crying out as his body shook with immense
pleasure, clenching around Nick’s cock.

Holy shit. Jesus fucking Christ.

Had Nick just touched his cock? Tyler felt like he should be weirded out, but he felt too damn
good. It felt like his every nerve was singing with pleasure. He was only vaguely aware that
Nick came too and went still, breathing hard on top of him.

“I’m still gonna punch you for the shit you said,” Tyler mumbled breathlessly. “That kind of
dirty talk isn’t cool, man.” Never mind that it had been a ridiculous turn-on.

Nick grunted something and rolled off him onto his back. He closed his eyes.
Tyler poked him in his bicep. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Go to sleep, Ty,” Nick said, without opening his eyes.

“But that was really weird, man,” Tyler insisted. “I don’t want you to do it again. I’m not into
that kind of shit.”

Nick opened his eyes and met Tyler’s gaze steadily. “Just like you aren’t into men, right?”

Tyler felt his face become warm. “Is that a trick question?” he said warily.

Nick’s lips twisted a little. “Go to sleep, Tyler,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“But—”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” Nick said flatly, turning onto his stomach and burying his face
in the pillow.

Tyler closed his mouth.

He lay wide-awake for a long time, long after Nick’s breathing became even.

Tyler felt too freaked out to fall asleep. He wasn’t even freaking out because of all the gay
stuff they’d done tonight. He was freaking out because he didn’t know how to handle this
hard-eyed, unfriendly Nick.

It bloody scared him.

Had he finally managed to ruin their friendship?

Chapter 12

The following month was the strangest in Tyler’s life.

His and Nick’s friendship seemed to be totally broken. At least Tyler didn’t think what they
now had was friendship. There was nothing friendly about the way Nick treated him. Nick
wasn’t mean, exactly; he just wasn’t his good-natured and laid-back self.

Nick was…different.

Sometimes Tyler caught Nick staring at him really intensely, as if Tyler was the most
interesting thing in the world. Other times Nick would barely look at him, and even when he
did, his gaze would be hard and unkind. It was all so very confusing. Tyler didn’t know how to
handle this Nick. He wasn’t sure he even liked this Nick. This Nick was a bit of an asshole, to
be honest, but his stupid body seemed weirdly into that asshole and into all the gay things
Nick had forced on him lately.

Nick was no longer careful and considerate of Tyler’s straight guy sensibilities. He seemed
to take perverse pleasure in trying to freak Tyler out by doing totally gay things like kissing
Tyler during sex. Tyler put up with it, because…because he was positive Nick
actually wanted him to freak out and stop what they were doing. So obviously, Tyler’s
contrary nature just wouldn’t quit. He was determined not to lose the weird version of gay
chicken they had been playing lately. (Was it gay chicken if one of them was gay? Tyler
wasn’t sure, but he was resolved not to lose anyway.)

Nick’s kisses were bloody terrible, though. Tyler could barely stand them; they were too
intense, weird, and overwhelming. Nick, the asshole, knew how much Tyler was freaked out
by them and kept kissing him, but Tyler refused to admit defeat.

Sometimes Nick kissed him for what felt like hours until Tyler felt so raw and desperate and
oversensitive that he felt like his head was in a fog and his balls were going to explode.
Other times, Nick refused to give him his cock until after he groped and kissed Tyler
everywhere, which was almost as annoying and frustrating as the long kisses.

Nick also touched Tyler’s cock. A lot.

“Come on, this is so gay,” Tyler tried to say the first few times it had happened, but Nick was
undeterred.

“This isn’t gayer than having my prick in your ass,” Nick would say flatly, stroking Tyler’s
cock until Tyler forgot his protests, his mind becoming foggy and useless again. It really
wasn’t bloody fair that his body turned into a complete traitor lately. Seeing his erection in
his best mate’s large, male hand felt incredibly wrong, but apparently he was into all the
wrong things now.

And then there was the Other Thing—the thing Tyler was determined not to think about. As
far as he was concerned, it didn’t happen. Until it did. And even when it did, it didn’t really
count. Because Tyler wasn’t some kind of freak. He was a totally normal guy who wasn’t into
that sort of thing. Not that he had anything against people who were into that sort of thing;
he just wasn’t one of those people.

Except when he was.

“Yeah, oh, oh, fuck yeah, pound that pussy, love your cock, give it to me, yeah, yeah, like that!”

Afterward, Tyler kind of wanted the ground to open and swallow him up, but during the sex
he seemed to absolutely lose control of his mouth. Like, don’t get him wrong—he had
nothing against some dirty talk—but he was a man, for fuck’s sake. He was supposed to be
hearing those kinds of words from some hot babe under him, not saying them himself while
his best friend pounded into his asshole. It was absolutely mortifying.

All in all, these days, Tyler felt like his head was going to explode from confusion.

He understood neither Nick, nor himself.

***

Tyler liked to think he was a decent guy.

For all his man-whoring, he’d never picked up taken women. He didn’t want to be that guy.

So he kind of wanted to know whether Nick was still dating Brad or not, but he was too
afraid to ask after Nick’s reaction the last time they’d talked about it.

What’s it to you?

The fact that he was afraid of talking to his best mate about his dating life showed how
weird things had become between them.

Not to mention that lately they hadn’t done much talking, full stop. These days, they barely
even texted each other. Nick just showed up at his flat, and then they fucked. Like, Tyler had
tried to just hang out like friends a few times, but Nick wasn’t very responsive to his
attempts to restore the balance. Nick seemed to be always in the mood for sex when he
arrived, ignoring Tyler’s weak attempts at conversation and just manhandling him until
Tyler’s mouth was full of either Nick’s tongue or Nick’s cock.

One day in early November, Nick sucked his cock.

In Tyler’s defense, he was too turned on to say no. It was one of those rare times Nick came
before him, leaving Tyler teetering on the edge of orgasm, frustrated and horny. So when
Nick slipped down his body and fucking swallowedhis cock, Tyler could only stare at him
with wide eyes. Nick’s mouth felt incredibly good around him—wet, soft, and skillful—but the
sight of it…Seeing his best friend’s lips stretched around his cock was such a gut-punching
sight, Tyler didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Don’t,” he managed, thrusting into Nick’s mouth. He didn’t mean to, but he seemed unable
to stop, needing—just needing.
Nick fucking rolled his eyes at him and started bobbing his head up and down, his finger
massaging Tyler’s hole.

Tyler groaned, thrust a few times into Nick’s mouth and came.

“This wasn’t cool, man,” Tyler mumbled afterward, unable to meet Nick’s eyes. “I didn’t ask
you to…to…”

“Suck your cock?” Nick said, zipping up his fly and reaching for his shirt. His expression was
blank, impossible to read.

Tyler licked his lips. They felt swollen and sore. “Yeah. I mean, not that it wasn’t good, but
you know—I’m not…”

“You’re not gay, I know,” Nick said, slipping into his jacket.

There was the now-familiar hard edge to his voice that lately never seemed to fail to irritate
Tyler and turn him on a little at the same time.

Annoyed with his body, Tyler nodded stiffly, pulling the sheets to cover his lap.

“See you,” Nick said and left without waiting for his response.

Tyler whispered, “See you,” to the empty room.

Frowning, he flopped back on the mattress and let out a groan of frustration.

He hated what their friendship had become. Even though he saw Nick every day, it felt like
they hadn’t talked in ages.
It felt like they were drifting apart, further and further with each day.

Chapter 13

“Understanding stock market trends is extremely important. Of course not everyone can
spot signs of market weakness, but every uptrending market reaches a point when selling
activity overtakes buying.”

Tyler looked longingly at the door.

“Do you agree, Tyler?”

“Sure, man,” Tyler said with a forced smile. He hoped that bore didn’t guess that Tyler didn’t
remember his name. He thought the guy’s name was Dave, but he wasn’t sure, so he didn’t
want to make things awkward if it wasn’t. In Tyler’s defense, he’d always been terrible at
people’s names, and it had been years since he’d last seen that guy. When Andy had told him
that it would be a small get-together party with some people from their school, Tyler had
thought Andy had invited, like, ten blokes for some beer and chips, not fifty people Tyler
barely remembered and had little in common with.

Now Tyler wished he hadn’t come. He hated parties like this. They had become downright
unbearable in the last few years. Everyone else seemed to be at some fancy school or had
some great job. Tyler always felt like a bit of a loser at these things. An outsider. A guy that
everyone knew as that popular jock from their school days but no one really respected as an
adult.

Tyler pulled his phone out, pretended that someone was calling him, and turned away. He
felt lame, but anything was better than having to make small talk with some self-important
prick in a suit that cost more than what Tyler made in a year.

Still pretending to be on the phone, Tyler walked away from Maybe-Dave, eyeing the door
with longing. Would Andy get offended if he ditched his fancy party so soon after arriving?
Probably.

“Why are you faking a phone call, you loser?” a familiar voice mocked him gently from
behind.

Tyler froze before slowly turning around.

Nick was smirking at him a little, nursing a drink.

Tyler beamed, a wave of relief washing over him. Nick was looking at him, looking at him like
he used to, with fond exasperation and amusement. It felt like it had been ages since Tyler
had last seen Nick, not one day.

Nick’s dark eyebrows crept upwards. “Are you feeling all right?” he said, taking a sip from his
drink.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You were looking like someone’s died, but now you’re grinning like an idiot.”

Tyler scowled at him, but it was half-hearted at best. Was it ridiculous that he’d missed
being on the receiving end of Nick’s good-natured ribbing?

“Oh, fuck you,” he said with a smile, glancing over Nick’s nice button-down and trousers. He
wanted to rib Nick for being overdressed, but to be totally honest, Nick didn’t look much
different from the other guests. If anything, Tyler seemed to be the one who stood out in his
tatty t-shirt and jeans. He was the one guy who didn’t look like the others.

Tyler’s smile faded. He crossed his arms over his chest, fighting the sudden
self-consciousness.
“What is it?” Nick said, eyeing him with a slight frown.

Tyler had to admit it was kind of nice to have Nick’s concerned gaze on him, proof that he
still cared. Tyler was man enough to admit that he’d been scared. He’d been scared that they
weren’t really friends anymore, that Nick had stopped giving a damn. It was reassuring to
know that he still did.

But it was also weirding him out that Nick could act so normal, so nonchalant and friendly,
as if he wasn’t the same hard-eyed man who pushed him around, fucked him, and whispered
horrible, humiliating things into his ear as he took Tyler apart.

It was giving Tyler a whiplash. Either Nick was faking it now, or…What was the alternative?
Tyler didn’t know.

Which version of Nick was real?

“I feel like a loser,” Tyler said when he realized that Nick was still waiting for an answer. He
regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He hadn’t intended to admit it, even
though it wasn’t as embarrassing as the other thing that had been bothering him.

Nick snorted. “I’m glad you’ve finally realized it.”

Tyler averted his gaze.

“Wait, are you serious?” Nick said. His tone momentarily lost its lightness.

Tyler shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I just…Look at them, Nick. Look at you. I
feel like I’m the only one here who isn’t doing something productive with my life. Like, they all
have become successful people or at least figured out what to do with their lives while I’m
just…”

“You’re what?” Nick said. “You’re managing your granddad’s pub and doing well enough. Cut
yourself some slack Jesus. Not everyone is supposed to be the CEO of a large company. It
isn’t a cock-measuring contest. You don’t owe anyone anything as long as you’re happy with
your life.”

Tyler made a face.

“Tyler, look at me.”

He did, reluctantly.

“Just because you didn’t go to uni or have a big-shot job, it doesn’t make you any lesser than
them, okay?” Nick said, looking him in the eye with the kind of intensity that was hard to look
away from.

Tyler nodded with a crooked smile. “Okay.”

Nick gave him a probing look and, after a moment, gestured toward the group of people
across the room. “Let’s go talk to Robin. He’s been trying to get our attention.”

Tyler followed Nick to their old classmate, moving closer to Nick as they approached the
group Robin was in. He just…He wasn’t exactly shy by any stretch of the imagination, but he
felt a bit more like he belonged if Nick was by his side. Or rather, he felt safe when he was by
Nick’s side, and Nick had the kind of presence that caught the eye without intending to: an
upright stance, a high-held head, the casual confidence. Nick looked like he belonged
everywhere, and when he was with Nick, Tyler didn’t feel as though he was a fraud
pretending to be an adult at gatherings like this.

After an hour, little by little, Tyler started relaxing as the other guests started loosening up
and acting more like the boys and girls he remembered. But he hadn’t realized that he was
following Nick around like a puppy until Erica pointed it out.

“I see you guys are still as sickening as back in school,” she joked, grinning. “More so,
actually.”
Tyler kind of froze, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Only after telling himself that
she couldn’t possibly know that he and Nick were shagging, he forced himself to smile. “I
can’t get rid of him, no matter how hard I try,” he said with an exaggerated sigh.

She chuckled. “I think it’s nice,” she said, looking a little wistful. “I wish I kept in touch with
my school friends.”

Tyler made a commiserating noise, all the while trying not to worry. Did it look weird that he
kept sticking so close to Nick? Was he being clingy?

He looked around and only now noticed that the only people who moved around in pairs
were couples. Fuck.

Tyler mumbled something and walked away from Nick, determined to stop behaving like a
clingy girlfriend and start behaving like an independent adult.

He lasted fifteen minutes.

Being an independent adult was unexpectedly hard. He was acutely aware of the distance
between him and Nick at all times, as if they were bound by invisible ropes.

Ugh. Seriously, what the fuck? Tyler didn’t get it. It had never been this bad. Contrary to
popular belief, he and Nick had never been attached at the hip. He’d never felt so
damn…needy before. It was awful. And it was starting to freak him out. Tyler had a sneaking
suspicion that all the gay stuff Nick had forced on him lately was to blame for this shit. Nick
hadn’t touched him tonight at all and it must be throwing him off, making him too aware of
Nick.

Not that he wanted Nick to touch him. He was just, like, conditioned to it at this point. His
body must have become used to it. Like, having his best mate back was great—Tyler fucking
missed him—but at the same time he felt weird being in the same room as Nick and not
having Nick all over his personal space, forcing kisses and other gay things on him. That
was the only reason Tyler felt so aware of the distance between them right now. It was just
weird. That was all.
“Hey, is Nick single?” someone asked him suddenly, touching his elbow.

Tyler tore his gaze away from Nick and looked at the woman addressing him. “He’s gay.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “I know. I’m asking for my brother. He’s single and Nick is just his
type.”

“Nick’s taken,” Tyler said curtly before frowning. He wasn’t even sure he’d told her the truth.
He hadn’t heard of Brad at all in the past month. For all he knew, they might have broken
up—if they’d ever been together at all. It wasn’t as though he’d seen that Brad guy. Tyler was
starting to think Nick had made him up. When would Nick have time for that guy if he literally
fucked Tyler every day?

“Ah,” Daphne said, sounding a little disappointed. “Why hasn’t he brought his boyfriend with
him, then?”`

Tyler shrugged, but then he realized it was a good excuse—ahem, reason—to go back to

Nick’s side. He should definitely ask Nick about his boyfriend, right? Right.

“I’ll ask him,” Tyler said and walked back toward Nick, who was still listening to Alex’s
long-winded story about his holiday in Spain.

“Where have you been off to?” Nick murmured absentmindedly, putting a hand on Tyler’s
lower back.

Tyler went still, his eyes widening. Nick’s hand felt heavy and large and... It probably looked a
little weird. Bros didn’t put their hand on their bro’s lower back like that. It was definitely a
little weird.

But Tyler didn’t shake the hand off. He stood there, contributing absolutely nothing to the
conversation, a little dazed and confused and overwhelmed just because of Nick’s
fucking hand resting on the small of his back.
It was just a hand. A hand.

But Tyler couldn’t breathe. Did no one notice that Nick had a hand on his lower back? Did no
one think it was strange? Did it look friendly? It certainly didn’t feel friendly. He should move
away. He should—he should…

Tyler fucking couldn’t. All of his senses seemed to be heightened, and the world around him
slowed. All he could think about was that hand, the weight of it. He imagined it slipping
lower, just a bit, until Nick’s fingers grazed the skin between Tyler’s t-shirt and the waistband
of his jeans. Then maybe Nick’s fingers would slip under his jeans and stroke his crack, rub
his hole until his pussy was wet and aching—

Tyler felt like slapping himself. What the hell? His body might be stupidly into that kinky shit,
but, unlike the other times Tyler had found himself ridiculously turned on when Nick treated
him like a girl, they weren’t in bed. This kinky, freaky shit had no place in the middle of Andy’s
living room while they were surrounded by their old classmates and Nick was acting like a
strictly platonic mate. Tyler didn’t understand why he was fantasizing about that freaky stuff
now—why he was fantasizing about it at all. It wasn’t as though he thought of himself as a
woman. He was a dude, and he was happy to be a dude, thank you very much. It was all
Nick’s fault, of course, for putting those freaky ideas into his head.

“You okay?” Nick said quietly, leaning to Tyler’s ear.

Tyler breathed shallowly, trying not to breathe in the familiar scent of Nick’s aftershave. He
wasn’t okay. This wasn’t okay. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’re being awfully quiet.”

Tyler almost laughed. He could hardly say that he was too busy freaking out about the fact
that apparently he was into having his non-existent pussy publicly groped by a guy who
wasn’t even his boyfriend—a guy who probably had a boyfriend.

“Where’s Brad?” Tyler said.

“Brad?” Nick repeated.

Tyler glared at him. “The guy you were dating, you know?”

Something shifted in Nick’s eyes. “What about him?”

“Why isn’t he here?” Tyler said.

Nick shrugged, his face closing off and his eyes hardening. Tyler was no longer looking at
his best mate. This was the man Tyler had become intimately familiar with in the past
month. Seriously, did Nick have a dissociative personality disorder?

Tyler frowned, utterly confused by Nick’s behavior. It was such a mystery. Was Nick feeling
guilty for cheating on his boyfriend? Nick was loyal to a fault—at least the Nick Tyler had
known all his life. He wasn’t sure about this Nick, the man who looked at him with dark,
unkind eyes and whose thoughts were impossible to read.

This Nick also had a horrible, terrible, no good effect on Tyler’s body. The hand on his lower
back now seemed to scald him, his skin tingling despite the fabric separating it from Nick’s
hand. It was just a Pavlovian conditioning at this point, Tyler was sure of it. His body
associated Nick being an asshole with naked sexy times. Though, the mere fact that he
wanted “naked sexy times” with another man was…a little unsettling.

Tyler chewed on his lip, unsure when he’d started wanting being naked with Nick as opposed
to just wanting Nick’s cock.

Tyler eyed Nick warily, trying to understand. His gaze moved over Nick’s lean cheeks and
strong jaw, over his firm, sensual lips as they curled a little to give Alex a fleeting smile.

Tyler wet his own lips and tore his gaze away.

What the fuck.

After a few minutes of telling himself that he hadn’t just ogled his best mate, Tyler looked
back at Nick. Tyler’s gaze moved lower, to Nick’s thick neck, lingering on his Adam’s apple,
then to his wide shoulders and muscular chest that looked downright obscene in that blue
button-down. Nick’s shirt was so thin his muscles seemed ready to burst through the cotton.
Tyler could even see Nick’s nipples. Nick should be arrested for public indecency. Seriously,
what the fuck was this shit?

More than a little warm, Tyler looked away. Um, had he just ogled Nick again? No, of course
not. It was the shirt. Anyone would look when Nick was wearing such a ridiculous shirt.

Relaxing a little, Tyler allowed himself to look at Nick again.

This time he stared at the veins on Nick’s forearms, then at his long, strong fingers wrapped
around the glass.

The glass was lifted to Nick’s lips and Tyler watched helplessly as Nick’s Adam’s apple
moved. It was oddly mesmerizing.

His mouth dry, Tyler accidentally glanced up and found his eyes locked with Nick’s—who had
been apparently watching him.

Tyler flushed.

Nick’s gaze seemed to become sharper.

He leaned in and murmured, his lips almost brushing Tyler’s earlobe. “You all right? You look
flushed.”

“Yes,” Tyler lied, absolutely mortified by how breathless he sounded. He wasn’t fucking all
right. This shouldn’t be happening. When had it happened? When? Was this something new
or had he just been too daft to notice it? 
It doesn’t mean anything, Tyler told himself. It was natural that he would start finding Nick
attractive in some sense. He saw Nick and he thought of sex. Being so close to Nick but not
having Nick touch him sexually was clearly fucking with his head. That must be it.
That was it.

He just needed to put some physical distance between them. Yep, distance sounded good.

Tyler forced himself to pull away. It was a lot harder than it should have been. “But maybe
you’re right—I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled, avoiding Nick’s gaze. He strode away before
Nick could say anything.

Finding the nearest loo, Tyler shut the door behind him and stared in the mirror. His face
really was flushed, his eyes glassy. Fucking hell. He looked bloody high.

“I’m straight,” Tyler said. Saying it aloud didn’t help. It did nothing to kill the arousal buzzing
under his skin. It did nothing to make him stop wanting.

Sliding down to the floor, Tyler wrapped his arms around his knees, put his head between
them, and breathed.

He thought of his parents—both devoted Christians. He thought of what they would say if
they found out he was actually a bigger disappointment than they thought. They’d never
managed to hide how disappointed they were with his life choices. They’d never approved
that he didn’t bother going to uni and getting a “real” job.

Wasted potential. Lack of ambition and drive. You’ll grow up one day, but it will be too late.

There were many other things they’d said behind his back, things Tyler couldn’t help but
overhear, things that made him feel like the biggest waste of space. His relationship with his
parents hadn’t been the same ever since he’d admitted to them that he’d been faking having
faith. They already thought he was going to hell. He couldn’t even imagine the looks on their
faces if they found out that he wanted to put his mouth on his best mate’s neck—and his
mouth, and his cock, and his—
A hysterical laugh bubbled at the back of Tyler’s throat. It ripped out of him, a harsh sound
that sounded a little broken. Tyler laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until his eyes were
burning and he had to take deep, calming breaths so the tears wouldn’t spill.

Fucking pathetic.

He really was a loser, wasn’t he?

Chapter 14

He didn’t know how long he sat like that when the door behind him budged. “Tyler? You
there?”

Springing to his feet, Tyler walked to the sink and splashed cool water over his flushed face.

Behind him, the door opened and closed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Nick,” Tyler managed, without turning around.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Look at me.”

Tyler snorted a laugh. “I’d rather not.”

“Why?”
Because you’re the last fucking person I need to be around right now.

“Just go, man,” Tyler said tightly. He felt fragile, worn thin at the edges, something horrible
building in his chest, a desperate need that was quickly becoming overwhelming. He knew if
he looked at Nick now, he would do something stupid. Something he would regret.

“Look at me,” Nick said, firmer. “Tyler.”

Against his better judgment, Tyler looked at him in the mirror.

Nick had a deep frown on his face, his expression impossible to read as their eyes met in the
mirror. There was nothing friendly about Nick’s expression, his face still closed off. This was
the hard-eyed man he had been sleeping with, not his laid-back best friend.

Tyler still needed him.

He didn’t know what was written on his face, but something flickered in Nick’s eyes and
Nick’s hands settled on his arms. Tyler shuddered and sagged back against Nick,
suppressing a whimper rising in his throat. He closed his eyes as Nick’s arms wrapped
around him, pulling him in tighter.

This shouldn’t have felt any different from the hundreds of hugs they’d shared over the
years. But they’d never hugged like this, with Nick enclosing him in his arms from behind.
Bros didn’t hug like this. Best friends didn’t hug like this. It didn’t feel friendly at all. This felt
a lot closer to their dynamic during sex. Except they hadn’t had sex that day and they were in
their old classmate’s fancy loo, with dozens of people just outside the door.

Tyler tried to make himself pull away, but he couldn’t. His knees felt disgustingly weak, his
body melting back into Nick’s. He just…he just wanted to be held, for a little while. He wanted
to feel good, and this felt good.

Part of him was disgusted and embarrassed by his behavior—he really was behaving like a
needy girlfriend—but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Nick’s solid, reassuring
presence behind him, around him.
“Has anyone said anything?” Nick murmured against his ear. “Anyone upset you?”

Tyler shook his head, rubbing his cheek against Nick’s. He smelled so good. Tyler didn’t
know when he’d stopped being freaked out by the feel of stubble against his skin, but right
now it just felt good. He wanted more. He squirmed back against Nick, trying to be closer to
him, and made a pleased sound when Nick’s arms around him tightened.

He felt Nick sigh. “Ty,” he said, his voice strained.  “Do you enjoy fucking with my head?”

“What do you mean?” Tyler said, his brows furrowing. He opened his eyes and looked at Nick
in the mirror.

Nick wasn’t looking at him, his jaw set into tight lines. “Sometimes I really fucking hate you,”
he said quietly.

Tyler frowned, utterly confused by Nick’s words. They made no sense, considering that
Nick’s arms were still wrapped around him. But then he realized what it must have been
about. So he had been right, after all. Nick really was sick of him.

“Right,” he said awkwardly, freeing himself from Nick’s arms. “Look, I’m—I’m sorry for being
such a mess. I know you must be tired of dealing with my….” He gave a weak laugh. “I know I
can be obnoxious, and needy, and… yeah.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Tyler looked down. “Like, I get it—I’m a mess, and I’m kinda immature and stupid and...
Everyone gets sick of me.”

“What the fuck, Tyler?” Nick tipped his chin up and made Tyler look at him. “You can be a bit
of an idiot sometimes, but you aren’t stupid. There’s nothing bloody wrong with you. Got it?”
There was the familiar look of exasperation in Nick’s eyes, and it was unmistakably fond.
A smile tugged at Tyler’s lips. Before he could think twice, he lunged forward and pecked
Nick on the mouth.

They both froze.

Slowly, very slowly, Tyler pulled back and stared at Nick with wide eyes.

Nick’s expression was very strange.

“Right,” Tyler said with a chuckle. “That was weird, yeah? Let’s pretend I didn’t do that—”

Nick shoved him against the sink and kissed him.

Tyler gasped, his knees turning into jelly. He grabbed the edge of the sink, his eyes slipping
shut. He could only hold on and let Nick devour his mouth, small sounds leaving his lips as
he sucked on Nick’s tongue. Bloody hell, he hated this, hated how overwhelmed and helpless
he felt. It was just a kiss. A kiss. He wasn’t some dainty virgin girl—he was a man, as big as
Nick—but his body refused to do anything but take, and melt, and want. Fuck, he was hard.
He was hard just from kissing, what the hell.

Finally, after what felt like forever—and not nearly long enough—Nick stopped kissing him
and looked at him with dark, glazed eyes. “Pull my cock out.”

Tyler licked his moist lips. They felt puffy. “Are you crazy? There are people just outside the
door.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own, hoarse and breathless.

Nick pushed their crotches tighter, making Tyler gasp at the feel of his erection against his
own.

“I locked it. Pull my cock out.”

Tyler glared at him, his stomach clenching. “There’s no way we’re fucking here.”
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Nick said, watching him with hooded eyes. “You’re going to pull
my cock out and wank me off.”

Tyler stared at him with wide eyes. This wasn’t the deal. Every time they’d had sex, it always
ended with Nick’s cock in his ass—which was the original reason they’d started fooling
around. Giving Nick a handjob just for the sake of it would be…it would be huge. It would be
gay.

There would be no going back from it.

Tyler started shaking his head when Nick leaned in and said into his ear, “Come on,
sweetheart. I know you’re desperate for me, but you can wait until we get home, right? I’ll
fuck you nice and hard, until your pussy is sopping wet and sore from my cock.”

Tyler shivered, a whimper rising in his throat. Slipping a hand between them, he tugged at the
zipper of Nick’s trousers with shaking fingers until his hand finally closed around Nick’s hot
erection. He stroked it fast and hard as Nick whispered filth into his ear, saying what a good
girl he was, how good his hand felt, how badly Nick wanted to spread Tyler’s legs right there
and push into his hungry little pussy. It was humiliating. It was emasculating. It was stupidly
arousing. Tyler found himself grinding helplessly against Nick’s hard thigh until his vision
went white and he came in his fucking pants. He didn’t even notice Nick coming, too, but he
must have: Tyler’s hand was sticky and Nick’s cock was softening in his hand. They both
were breathing hard, wrapped in a half-embrace. Tyler was glad for the hard sink behind him
or he would have likely fallen over.

At last, Nick cleared his throat and stepped back. He tucked his cock in, zipped up, and
washed his hands. Finally, he looked at Tyler. Something flashed through his eyes.

“You look like a mess, Ty,” he said, his voice light and amused, as if he wasn’t the man who’d
just taken Tyler apart with nothing but filthy words. So his best mate was back.

Dazedly, Tyler looked down at the wet patch on his jeans and made a face. It was a good
thing his jeans were dark.
He turned to the mirror and tried to make himself presentable, determined to act as if
nothing weird had happened.

Because nothing had.

Chapter 15

But everything changed.

Now that the floodgates were opened, Tyler couldn’t shut them again. He seemed
completely unable to see Nick as a friend anymore, his eyes lingering helplessly on the curve
of Nick’s mouth, his firm jaw, and his ridiculously fit body. It was fucking horrible. The worst.
Tyler didn’t know what to do with himself, how to stop wanting those gay things, how to go
back to normal and stop drooling over his best mate. At this point, Tyler was pretty sure he
wouldn’t choose a naked bombshell with a strap-on over a naked Nick with his distinct lack
of tits and his hard, heavy body. It was so bloody gay,andTyler was so very confused. He
didn’t feel gay. He didn’t suddenly start checking other blokes out; he didn’t stare at other
men’s bodies or hands—only at Nick’s.

The worst part was, Nick seemed completely unflappable and impossible to read. After the
handjob in Andy’s loo, he hadn’t asked for more unreciprocated handjobs and he didn’t seem
to act any differently around him. Tyler felt…stupidly disappointed, and it pissed him off. It
pissed him off that he was starting to feel all kinds of gay and needy while Nick either
treated him as a platonic best mate or fucked Tyler so good he bloody saw stars—before
rolling off Tyler and going back to being his best mate.

It wasn’t that Tyler didn’t want his best mate around; he just…he just didn’t seem to be able
to turn off the wanting after the sex was over. Clearly Nick didn’t have the same problem.
Tyler forced himself to stop thinking about it and tried to focus on the TV screen.

The 85-inch display the Hardaways had bought recently was a thing of beauty, and the movie
they all were watching was entertaining—at least Tyler presumed it must be entertaining,
because everyone else seemed engrossed in it, as far as he could see. Tyler was already
starting to regret that he’d ended up staying for the Hardaways’ movie night, but it would
have been rude to refuse, considering that he’d come to Zach’s house uninvited and didn’t
expect the entire Hardaway clan to be there. Nick had already been sprawled lazily on the
couch at the back, and he patted the space next to him when he’d seen Tyler.

That was how Tyler ended up squeezed next to Nick on the loveseat that was far too small
for two big men, or at least it felt that way. He was acutely, painfully aware of the heat
radiating off Nick’s body, of the mere inch separating their thighs. Nick seemed freshly
showered and shaved, the scent of his aftershave making Tyler’s cock chub up in his loose
sweatpants. It was the fucking worst. It was particularly maddening because Nick seemed
to be in his best friend mode tonight, showing no interest in Tyler whatsoever.

Tyler bit the inside of his cheek, trying to tell himself that he was perfectly content with just
hanging out like bros. They were bros. Right? He could totally live without putting his hands
on Nick. He absolutely didn’t want to slip his hand under Nick’s shirt and have a good grope.

Ugh. It was like Tyler was a teenager all over again, his hands itching to touch and his cock
hard just from being so close to the object of his lust. It didn’t even seem to matter that
there were a dozen other people in the room; Tyler still wanted to climb into Nick’s lap, shove
his tongue down Nick’s throat, and sit on his cock, not necessarily in that order. Even his
nipples were hard and oversensitive against his shirt, aching for Nick’s attention—his hands,
his mouth, anything.

Tyler dug his fingers into his own thighs, hoping against hope that the pain would erase the
totally insane, totally gay thoughts from his mind.

On the screen, someone screamed.

Tyler flinched, startled and confused.

Next to him, Nick chuckled. “Come on, it isn’t that scary.”

Tyler eyed the screen, only now realizing they were watching a horror flick. At least the
revolting, hairy thing eating the blonde alive was a pretty big clue that it was a horror flick.

“Ugh, gross,” Tyler said, inching closer to Nick. It wasn’t that he was scared or anything—it
was just so damn gross.

Nick snorted. “Want me to hold your hand?”

Tyler felt himself blush. “Oh, shut it,” he said, and flinched again when the hairy monster
attacked another person.

Laughing quietly, Nick slung an arm around him. “You’re such a baby.”

Tyler stared unseeingly at the screen, breathing slowly and evenly so that Nick didn’t guess
that he was practically shaking with the effort not to lean into Nick. Bloody hell, what was
wrong with him? What was this? His stomach felt funny. His cock was hard. He wanted Nick
to turn his head and kiss his cheek, his mouth—everywhere.

Fuck.

This was definitely gay. This was definitely, unquestionably gay.

“You’re trembling,” Nick said, stroking his shoulder and finally turning his head to Tyler.

Tyler forced out a crooked smile. “You know horror flicks aren’t my thing. They creep me
out.”

He couldn’t read Nick’s expression in the semi-darkness. The only light in the room came
from the TV, and since the movie was dark and gloomy, it didn’t do a good job at making the
room bright enough to see faces well. Maybe had they been sitting closer to the TV, it would
have been bright enough, but they were too far back.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t like it,” Nick said, kneading Tyler’s shoulder a little with
his strong, talented fingers.

Tyler hoped it wasn’t obvious how much he was enjoying the touch. “I’m fine,” he lied. He
was definitely not fine. He was as far from fine as it could get. But he didn’t want to go. Tyler
wasn’t sure he was physically capable of pulling away from Nick and leaving. He felt too
warm, his skin prickling, and his cock hard enough to be uncomfortable, and he felt like he’d
fucking die if Nick stopped touching him. He wanted—he wanted to crush his mouth against
Nick’s and shove his tongue down his throat. And then he wanted to rub his crotch against
Nick’s face, have him suck on his clit.

Fuck.

His face hot, Tyler stared blankly at the screen, terrified of his own thoughts. It wasn’t that it
was his first dirty fantasy about Nick; far from it. He’d been thinking of Nick for months when
he wanked. The fantasies had been nothing worrying at first: he’d just imagined Nick fucking
him, imagined his cock moving in his hole, the stretch and the delicious fullness. It had been
his go-to wank fantasy for the past few months. But lately other, more worrying fantasies
crept in: Nick sucking his cock, Nick eating him out, Nick’s cock fucking his mouth, Nick’s
tongue in his mouth as his cock pounded into Tyler’s pussy.

It was all so very confusing, embarrassing, and so bloody wrong.

It wasn’t okay.

It wasn’t okay to daydream about his best mate sucking on his non-existent clit while said
best mate sat next to him, unaware of his filthy, freakish thoughts. Tyler felt like a right
pervert.

“Do you think I’m sick?” he said, barely audibly.

He felt Nick’s gaze on the side of his face. “Sick?” he said, just as quietly.
On the screen, someone screamed again.

Wetting his lips, Tyler turned his head to Nick. “Do you think I’m sick for getting off on…you
know?”

He felt Nick’s breathing hitch. Of course Nick was surprised. They never really talked about
what they got up to in bed—and definitely not when Nick was in his best mate mode. Tyler
felt like he was breaking an unspoken rule. Even his ears felt uncomfortably hot, but Tyler
didn’t look away from Nick. The semi-darkness helped, giving him the courage to talk about
it, but he still felt beyond embarrassed.

“That’s a pretty tame kink,” Nick said, his tone carefully neutral. “I once dated a guy who
wanted me to pretend we were related while we had sex.”

“Yikes,” Tyler said.

Nick snorted softly. “It’s just a sexual fantasy. He wasn’t actually attracted to his brother.”
His eyes bored at Tyler. “It is just a sexual fantasy for you, right? Because it’s absolutely
okay if it isn’t.”

Tyler had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. “I’m not transsexual,” he mumbled, his face
warm. That he was sure of after all the Googling he’d done. Apparently there was a big
difference between cross-gender kink and transsexuality, and one should never be mistaken
for the other. Tyler definitely didn’t identify as a woman. He just got off to the idea of having
girl bits—he didn’t actually want to have them; he was very fond of his cock and balls, thank
you very much. “I guess I’m just a freak who’s into some kinky shit,” he murmured, making a
face.

Nick pulled Tyler closer and brushed his lips against his temple. “Stop that. You’re not a
freak, Ty.”

Tyler shivered from the innocent contact, instantly craving more. When Nick started pulling
away, Tyler couldn’t stop a whine from escaping his throat.
Nick paused and looked at him. Tyler was pretty sure Nick couldn’t read his expression well
in such dim light, but something must have given him away. Nick inhaled sharply, his hand
tightening on Tyler’s shoulder.

“Tyler,” he said, a clear warning in his voice.

Nick didn’t need to say it aloud for Tyler to get it. He knew they shouldn’t cross more lines
than they already had. They were supposed to be hanging out like buddies now. It was
neither the time nor the place for something else. Nick’s entire family was a few feet away,
for fuck’s sake. Their no-strings-attached sexual relationship was never supposed to bleed
into their everyday life, into their friendship.

Tyler pursed his lips, panic rising in his chest. What was he doing? He was straight. Had he
forgotten it already? “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

He turned back to the TV and tried his best to focus on the movie. But he couldn’t. He
couldn’t relax. Nick was very tense next to him, too.

After a few minutes, Nick gritted out, “Damn you,” and nuzzled into Tyler’s ear, breathing
unsteadily.

Tyler shuddered, his eyes slipping shut and his mouth falling slack as Nick’s tongue licked
his earlobe. He turned his head, seeking Nick’s mouth blindly and gasping when he finally
found it. Fuck, this was madness. They were in a room full of people. They could be
discovered kissing any moment now, but Tyler couldn’t pull away to save his life. He
whimpered into Nick’s mouth, arching when Nick’s hand started creeping up his thigh, up
and up until Nick was finally stroking him through his sweatpants.

Tyler moaned against Nick’s lips, but thankfully the noise was drowned out by the screams
coming from the TV. “Nick,” he whispered hoarsely, peppering Nick’s jaw with kisses as he
worked his way down Nick’s neck.

His phone went off.

Tyler wrenched himself away and scrambled for his phone before the Hardaways could look
back at them.

The caller ID made his throat close up.

“Dad?” he croaked out, blind panic rising in his chest when he realized what they had been
doing—what they had nearly done. In a public place, in a room full of people. Fuck fuck fuck.

Jonathan Meyer’s voice was all business. “Your mother is asking if you’ll bring your girlfriend
to Christmas dinner.”

Tyler ran a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. His brain still felt as though it
was in a fog. “Christmas dinner? But it’s still almost a month away.”

“Exactly,” his father said. “You have ample time to tell your girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Dad,” Tyler said exasperatedly, shooting a sideways look at Nick.

Nick pulled away and returned his attention to the movie, his face impassive.

“Then get one,” his father said curtly. “You’re old enough to start thinking of starting a family.
I’m tired of hearing about it from your mother.”

“But—”

“When are you going to grow up, Tyler?” his father said. “I already had a family and career at
your age.”

Tyler closed his eyes, his throat tight. “I’m not you, Dad.”
“That I’m aware of,” his father said flatly. “I’ll tell your mother you will. Don’t disappoint her
again.”

And he hung up.

Tyler pressed his hands against his eyes and breathed out slowly. There was no use getting
upset. His parents had always had unrealistic expectations he could never meet. It was
okay. It was nothing new.

“What did he want?” Nick said, his gaze on the screen.

Tyler choked out a laugh. “My parents want me to bring a girlfriend to Christmas dinner.”

Nick said nothing. He didn’t even look at Tyler.

It doesn’t matter, Tyler told himself.

His father’s call was the cold shower they both clearly needed to snap them back to reality.

It reminded them of what they were to each other—and what they weren’t.

Chapter 16

Tyler didn’t want to attend Nick’s youngest brother’s twentieth birthday.

It was hardly the first Hardaway family party he had been invited to. He usually liked them
quite a bit. The Hardaways were a loud, close-knit, boisterous family, and they were always
warm toward him.

But it was different this time.

After what happened a few weeks ago at the Hardaways’ movie night, Tyler had been
avoiding their house, not wanting to be reminded of the line he and Nick had briefly crossed.
Not that it had stopped him from having sex with Nick at least every other day, but at least
they’d been behaving. Sort of. After the movie night, Nick had seemed even more determined
not to mix their friendship and their sex life, to the point that sometimes it felt like he was a
completely different person when he fucked Tyler—a person that disappeared as soon as the
sex was over.

It was really, really fucking with Tyler’s head, making him uncertain about their friendship.
The word friendship felt horribly inadequate. He wasn’t even sure they were friends anymore.
Nick no longer seemed inclined to share his thoughts, just looking at Tyler with that
unreadable expression that had become very familiar to Tyler and drove him absolutely
crazy.

Nick fucking drove him crazy, full stop. Half of the time, Tyler missed his best mate and their
comfortable, companionable dynamic, the trust between them. The problem was, when Nick
was in his best mate mode, Tyler still felt unsatisfied, craving things a friend wouldn’t give
him. It was a total mindfuck.

So considering how shaky and weird his relationship with Nick had been lately, Tyler felt very
awkward at the Hardaways’ party, unsure of his place among them, a way he’d never been
before. As Nick’s best friend, he’d taken part in a lot of the Hardaway family events over the
years, but Tyler wasn’t certain that he was still Nick’s friend, much less his best one.

Not to mention that Tyler hadn’t exactly been eager to finally meet Brad the Prat: Nick always
invited a plus one to a family event if he was dating someone. But Tyler couldn’t beg off the
party: Miles had personally called and invited him, and Tyler hadn’t managed to come up
with an excuse not to go.

Now he was fucking regretting it.

Tyler shot another sideways glance at the short, dark-haired bloke who was laughing with
Nick. Apparently, Brad the Prat was very much real and not someone Nick had made up, as
Tyler had been starting to think. He really was the definition of Nick’s type: a petite twink,
with a slim build and pert ass, dark hair and dark doe eyes, and a never-ending supply of
clever remarks. Basically, he was everything Tyler wasn’t.

Tyler felt…he felt weird, uncomfortable in his own skin as he watched Brad the Prat share
law school jokes with Nick that flew right over Tyler’s head.

He hated it, hated how ungainly and big he felt compared to that dainty little prick, how
stupid and uneducated he felt—was—compared to him. He hated that Nick clearly liked the
prat, his soft amusement ever-present as he talked to Brad.

Pursing his lips, Tyler turned away—and locked eyes with Tristan DuVal, who had apparently
been watching him.

Tyler mouthed, “What?”

Tristan just shrugged, his blue-green eyes sharp and assessing.

Tyler averted his gaze. Successful people like Tristan DuVal always made him feel
uncomfortable around them. Tristan was practically the same age as him, but he was a
millionaire, a former football star, and the owner of his own fashion line. Tyler always felt so
bloody inadequate in his presence it wasn’t even funny.

His dislike of Tristan DuVal had nothing to do with the fact that Nick used to be into him.
Tyler didn’t feel any enmity toward Nick’s dates. He’d never attempted to compete with
them. There was nothing to compete over: he was the best friend who rolled his eyes and
ribbed Nick about his fleeting infatuations and inability to commit to anyone.

But now he felt off-balance. He tried to assume the role of the long-suffering best mate, but
it fit all wrong, as though he’d outgrown it without even noticing.

“You can leave if you want, you know.”

Tyler flinched and turned his head. He forced a smile when he found Miles standing there,
nursing a beer. “The birthday boy!” He raked his hand through Miles’s gold-brown hair,
earning a deeply unimpressed stare from him.

“I’m serious,” Miles said. “You look like you’d rather be somewhere else. I won’t take offense
if you decide to ditch our boring family party. Though Nick might.”

Tyler glanced Nick’s way, but he still seemed engrossed in his conversation with
Brad. “Right. He didn’t even notice my arrival.” He was pretty damn proud of how indifferent
and casual he managed to sound.

Miles snorted. “Yeah, sure. You know how weird he is about you.”

Tyler looked at him with a frown. “Weird? Don’t be silly.”

“Come on, he’s always been weird about you.”

“In what way?” Tyler asked, against his better judgment.

Miles glanced toward Nick and Brad. “Like, the fact that he’s never dated a blond in his life.
There have been, like, fifteen blokes he’s bothered to introduce to us over the years, and all
of them were dark-haired.”

Tyler wet his dry lips, unsure where Miles was going with it. “He has a type.”

Miles shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. He smiled crookedly at

Tyler. “You know, being the baby of the family has its advantages: you hear and notice shit
the ‘adults’ remain blind to. I’m pretty sure even Nick thinks he has a type. And maybe he
does.” He shrugged again. “Our subconscious can be funny like that. He’s always disliked
the whole gay-guy-pining-after-straight-best-mate cliché.”

Tyler opened his mouth and closed it. Miles didn’t know what he was talking about. Nick
didn’t…Nick had never been weird about him—at least not until recently. The mere idea that
Tyler somehow influenced the choice of Nick’s boyfriends was laughable. Completely
laughable. They were just friends. They had been friends. Nick had never seen him as
anything but a friend—until Tyler forced Nick to see him as a fuck-buddy.

“You’re wrong,” Tyler managed at last. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

Miles shrugged, already looking at his phone distractedly. “Wanna bet how long the new
bloke will last before Nick will find some fault in him and ditch him? A week, two weeks
tops.”

“I think they’ve already been together for a month,” Tyler said.

“Really?” Miles said, tapping something on his phone. “We found out about that bloke’s
existence an hour ago.”

Tyler blinked.

“Go home if you’re bored, Ty.” Miles wandered away.

Tyler hesitated. He did want to leave, but at the same time he felt paranoid that if he left,
Nick would take Brad upstairs and—

“Ugh,” Tyler grumbled, frustrated with himself. He was being ridiculous. His presence
wouldn’t stop Nick from taking Brad upstairs or kissing him in front of everyone, for that
matter. Tyler was no one. Well, not no one, but…

Pursing his lips, Tyler shot another look Nick’s way and scowled when he saw that Brad was
leaning into Nick’s personal space. Nick wasn’t encouraging him, his hands in the pockets of
his dark trousers, but he wasn’t pulling away, either. Tyler wanted—he wanted—he fucking
wanted to scream from frustration.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, bloody hell. Nick was his best friend. His very male
best friend. What was wrong with him?
Nick’s gaze suddenly shifted to Tyler, for what felt like the first time that evening. Nick’s
expression was odd. He seemed…annoyed? With whom? Tyler was just standing there,
minding his own business.

Confused, Tyler watched Nick more closely.

Nick did seem to pay a lot of attention to Brad, but every once in a while, he would glance
Tyler’s way and his gaze would become darker, his jaw would clench in that distinctly
irritated way. Tyler was completely confused. Who was Nick irritated with? Tyler? Himself?

Maybe Nick was irritated that Tyler wasn’t making any effort to befriend his date?

Tyler frowned. To be totally honest, he didn’t feel like making any effort to befriend that
pretty little prick.

But maybe he should. If Nick was serious about Brad, he would want his best bro to get
along with his boyfriend, right?

Ignoring the ugly, tight feeling in his gut, Tyler slowly wandered toward Nick and Brad.

“Hey,” Nick said when he approached them. Something shifted in his expression before he
slung an arm around Tyler’s shoulders loosely. The gesture was so perfectly friendly and
casual that it had no business making Tyler so damn aware of him. Tyler breathed shallowly
in the familiar scent of Nick’s aftershave and tried to pretend he didn’t feel like shoving his
face against Nick’s throat and breathing in.

“Brad, Tyler,” Nick said. “I don’t think you’ve been officially introduced yet.”

“Nice to meet you,” Brad said, barely looking Tyler’s way. His eyes were only on Nick. He was
practically drooling. It was sickening.
Tyler mumbled something noncommittal, trying to suppress the ridiculous urge to tell that
prick to stop ogling Nick.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Nick said lightly, the picture of a best friend and
nothing more. He seemed distracted, already looking at Brad.

And fuck it, Tyler was sick of it, sick of Nick’s Jekyll and Hyde act. There, surrounded by
Nick’s extended family, friends, and Brad, Tyler suddenly wanted proof that the Nick who’d
been buried in him to the hilt practically all night long yesterday, the Nick who’d called him
sweetheart and whispered filth in his ear, wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

So for the first time Tyler choseto lean into Nick’s side, turning the casual bro half-hug into a
very uncasual PDA, practically snuggling into his side.

He felt Nick’s muscles tense a little, but Nick’s face betrayed nothing. He shot a strange look
at Tyler and raised his dark brows a little.

Tyler felt himself blush, but he didn’t pull back.

Nick studied him for a long moment, his expression vaguely pissed off, even though the arm
around Tyler tightened, pulling him closer into Nick’s side.

Tyler shouldn’t have felt so damn pleased about it, but he did. He couldn’t help but look at
Brad, feeling a rush of satisfaction when he saw that Brad had definitely noticed how close
they were. He couldn’t read Brad’s expression all that well, but the prat didn’t look so
cheerful anymore.

“Where’s the loo, Nick?” Brad said, giving Nick some kind of meaningful look that Nick didn’t
seem to notice because he was still looking at Tyler.

“Down the corridor to the left,” Tyler replied.

Brad glared at him.

Tyler glared back. What? He was just being helpful!

Brad stalked off.

“You look terribly pleased with yourself,” Nick said.

Tyler looked anywhere but at him. “Are you fucking him?” he said before he could stop
himself. It was something he’d been wanting to ask for ages but hadn’t, not really wanting to
hear Nick’s answer.

Nick glowered at him for some reason. “No.”

Tyler felt the knot in his stomach loosen a little.

“We’ve been just casually dating so far,” Nick said. “But that might change. He’s looking for a
serious relationship.”

“Does he know about me? That we’re…”

“Buddyfucking?” Nick supplied for him.

Tyler wasn’t sure he liked the word—something about the way Nick said it rubbed him the
wrong way—but he nodded.

“There’s no reason for him to know about you, is there?” Nick said. “He just knows he and I
aren’t exclusive yet.”

Yet?
“Do you kiss him?” Tyler said before he could stop himself.

Nick looked as surprised by the question as Tyler was. He didn’t need to say What’s it to
you? for Tyler to read it on his face.

Tyler dropped his gaze. “Just curious.”

“Curious?” Nick said, very mildly. “I thought the only thing you cared about was where I put
my prick.”

Tyler scowled. “I think you shouldn’t kiss him. What if he has herpes? I don’t want to get
herpes.”

Nick’s expression turned pinched. “You’re fucking unbelievable. Figure out what the hell is
going on in your head. You seem confused.” He extracted himself from Tyler and turned
away—toward where Brad had headed.

Tyler grabbed his arm. “But it’s a legit concern!” he babbled, feeling desperate and
possessive, and hating it. What the hell was wrong with him? What had Nick turned him into?
“He looks unhealthy! Don’t you think he looks unhealthy?”

A muscle ticked in Nick’s jaw. “Listen, Tyler,” he said, lowering his voice. “You keep telling
me you’re a straight guy. Good for you, but I’m a gay man. You want nothing from me but my
prick. I’m fine with it—sort of—but I also need things you can’t give me. Things I’ll have to get
with someone else. We’re mates who occasionally have sex, nothing more. Don’t fucking
mess with my head, okay?”

“But I let you kiss me,” Tyler said, frowning in confusion. “What else could you possibly
want?”

Nick laughed. “What else could I possibly want?” He shook his head with a wry
smile. “Thanks for putting up with my kisses. That’s very self-sacrificing of you.” He freed his
arm from Tyler’s grip and went back to his date. Brad smiled up at Nick and said something,
his fingers caressing Nick’s bicep.
Something tight and ugly exploded in the pit of Tyler’s stomach. He felt…he felt upset, upset
and angry for no reason at all.

Figure out what the hell is going on in your head. You seem confused.

Tyler sighed, trying to make sense of his emotions. Nick was right. This wasn’t normal. He
was…he was behaving really odd lately. Coupled with his recent unsettling realization that he
was sexually attracted to his best friend, this possessiveness was just another symptom of
the problem. The problem being that he seemed to have developed a…liking for all the gay
stuff Nick did to him.

A liking? a voice whispered sardonically at the back of his mind. A craving would be a more
appropriate term.

Tyler frowned, blushing. So what did it mean? Was he gay now?

The thought was…unsettling. Like, Tyler had nothing against gay people. He just…he
just couldn’t be one. Anyway, he didn’t feel gay. His gaze still naturally gravitated toward
beautiful women—and Nick. It seemed he’d just developed a bit of a thing for Nick. It was
probably natural, considering that Tyler loved his best mate, so it was totally natural that his
platonic affections coupled with all the hot sex they’d been having would create some kind
of pseudo-infatuation thing. It should pass soon enough, right?

It didn’t mean that he was gay.

Relieved to finally find an explanation for all the weird feelings inside him, Tyler headed
toward Nick and Brad, determined to be a better friend and to suppress his intense dislike
for the guy. It wasn’t Brad’s fault that Tyler had developed a pseudo-infatuation for Nick.
Tyler was going to prove to Nick that he could totally stop acting like a possessive weirdo.

So when Tyler reached the pair, he said in his nicest voice, “Did you find the loo?”

Brad finally stopped ogling Nick and looked at Tyler. “Yes,” he said coldly.
Tyler gave him his brightest smile and slipped between him and Nick. He could feel Nick’s
intense gaze on his nape, but he ignored it, focusing his attention on Brad. Tyler wanted to
be nice to the guy, but he kept drawing a blank when he tried to think of something friendly
to say. “I…do you watch football?” he said at last.

“Not really,” Brad said coolly, looking at Tyler as though he thought Tyler was stupid.

Ignoring the twinge of insecurity, Tyler said brightly, “Nick told me all about you, but I think
we need to get to know each other better and become mates if you and Nick are going to be
a thing.” The words made him want to puke, but Tyler forced out a friendly smile.

“Mates,” Brad repeated, his voice laced with skepticism and his pretty doe eyes conveying
his doubt that he and Tyler had anything in common.

There was something vaguely offensive about that look, but Tyler was determined to ignore
it. He had a pretty thick skin and he was trying to prove a point here.

But before he could say anything, Nick’s hand squeezed his shoulder, the touch vaguely
reassuring. “Tyler’s been my best mate for ages,” Nick said, his voice steely, moving Tyler
closer to his side. Tyler found himself relaxing into Nick’s body, the last remnants of his
discomfort disappearing. “He can be a bit of a prat, but he means well, and under all that
peacocking, he’s a genuinely good bloke.”

“Hey,” Tyler said with a mock-pout, glaring at Nick. “I don’t peacock!”

Nick smiled at him crookedly, his eyes glinting with amusement and affection. “At least
peacocks are pretty.”

To Tyler’s mortification, he felt himself preen a little. Bloody hell, this pseudo-infatuation
thing was fucking horrible.

Someone cleared their throat and Tyler tore his gaze from Nick’s.
Brad had his lips pursed. “I think I’ll go home, Nick,” he said, his voice rather cool.

Nick gave him an equally cool look. “You want a lift?”

Brad shook his head and headed for the door, his head held high.

Well, that was awkward, Tyler thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to be bothered all that
much. There was something about being tucked against Nick’s side that made him all giddy
on the inside. It was absolutely sickening, but Tyler couldn’t make himself pull away.

Just for a little while, Tyler told himself, leaning into Nick.

Nick raised his eyebrows a little. “You’re very touchy-feely today.”

Tyler felt his face burn. “Shut up,” he mumbled, forcing himself to pull away.

But Nick’s arm around him didn’t budge and Tyler gave up after a token effort.

“I appreciate that you made the effort to befriend Brad,” Nick said, his face carefully
neutral. Their argument was clearly not forgotten.

Tyler snorted. “Well, he didn’t seem to appreciate it. He looked at me like I was an annoying
bug at his feet. Though I gotta give kudos to the guy for his ability to look down at someone
two heads taller than him.”

Nick’s lips pursed.

“I don’t blame him. You did call me pretty in front of him,” Tyler said with a crooked
smile. “He probably guessed that we’re shagging.”
Nick’s eyes remained cold. “That’s irrelevant. He and I have been on a few casual dates. We
don’t owe each other anything.”

“I hate to break it to you, but he seems to disagree,” Tyler said. He could totally get the guy’s
perspective.

Nick shrugged. “That’s on him. I never made any promises.”

Tyler snorted. “You can be a right asshole sometimes. You fool people into thinking you’re
nice, but you’re actually a total prick.”

“I’m nice to people who deserve it,” Nick said, his voice unexpectedly hard. “He was an
asshole to you when you tried to be nice to him. I thought he was a better person than that.”

Averting his gaze, Tyler frowned. He thought Nick was being a little unfair to the guy.

It made him think of Miles’s words. Wanna bet how long the new bloke will last before Nick
will find some fault in him and ditch him?

Could Miles be right? Had Nick always been that way and Tyler just hadn’t noticed? For
someone who claimed to be looking for a serious relationship, Nick sure didn’t make much
effort to understand any of the blokes he’d gone out with. It was weird. In Tyler’s experience,
Nick was great at empathy. He read Tyler like a book, always attuned to his moods: like a
few minutes ago, when Nick sensed his embarrassment and insecurity, he’d immediately
stepped in, protective. It was weird that Nick showed none of that empathy toward people he
was actually dating.

“He was just jealous,” Tyler said. “I get him.”

He could feel Nick’s eyes on his face. “What?”

Tyler hesitated. Fuck it, Nick was still his best mate. If he couldn’t be honest with his best
mate, who could he be honest with?

Tyler met Nick’s gaze. “I felt jealous, too.”

Something shifted in Nick’s eyes, though his expression remained guarded. “Jealous?”

Tyler wet his lips. “I just…I seem to have developed a bit of a thing for you,” he said with a
chuckle that sounded painfully awkward even to his ears. “Like, I’m sure it’s just a side effect
of all the great sex—I’m sure it’ll pass—you know I’m straight—but I just…” He shrugged,
looking at Nick helplessly. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to fuck with your head, but I’m so
bloody confused, Nick.”

Nick sighed. “Ty…” He leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. It was probably intended
to be a friendly, comforting peck, except Tyler totally ruined Nick’s good intentions by
trembling and parting his lips eagerly.

He could feel Nick’s surprise, but Nick obliged him, kissing him for real, his hand burying in
Tyler’s hair. Tyler sighed in bliss as Nick’s tongue slipped inside his mouth, Nick’s stubble
scratching his chin and making him shiver. He sucked on Nick’s tongue hungrily, wrapping
his arms around Nick’s waist and trying to pull him closer, pull him in. It felt like it had been
months since they’d last kissed, not one day. He was so damn hungry for this he didn’t know
what to do with himself.

Someone whistled. “Get a room, you two. There are kids here.”

“Come on,” Nick said hoarsely, steering him out of the crowded room.

Tyler couldn’t even bring himself to be freaked out by the scene they’d probably caused. The
moment they got into Nick’s room, he shoved Nick against the door, pressing kisses all over
Nick’s muscular throat, his hands roaming under his shirt, needing to get to skin. Mine. This
is mine, you’re mine, mine mine mine. He all but tore Nick’s shirt off him, the buttons flying
everywhere, and peppered his wide chest with kisses, inhaling greedily. Fuck, he smelled and
felt so good. Tyler couldn’t wait to be naked under him.
He unzipped Nick’s fly and pulled out his hard cock, thick, long and mouthwatering. Tyler
dropped to his knees and swallowed it greedily, making Nick groan above him. Tyler had
always thought women faked it when they moaned around his cock. Now he couldn’t seem
to stop making blissed out noises as he sucked Nick’s, his own cock hard and leaking in his
jeans.

“You look so damn pretty with my cock in your mouth.” Nick’s fingers stroked Tyler’s hair, his
sensitive ears, making his head spin. “So damn eager for it. You’re a fucking natural…such a
slut for it. Are you wet from sucking me, sweetheart?”

Tyler moaned around the cock, his own cock twitching.

“Look at you,” Nick said, stroking his cheek—his own cock in Tyler’s mouth—and watching
Tyler with dark, glassy eyes. “Fuck, I wanna come on your face. Can I do that, sweetheart?”

Tyler frowned but nodded. He felt a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get Nick inside him,
but this was hot too, in a humiliating way.

“Don’t worry,” Nick said, wanking his cock over Tyler’s face. “I’m going to eat you out so
good, suck on your clit for hours until you beg for my cock.”

Tyler shivered, parting his lips as thick jets of Nick’s come hit his face.

After a few minutes, Nick made good on his promise. He laid Tyler out on his bed and
sucked on his cock for what felt like forever, all the while fingering and stretching his pussy
for his cock.

Nick was hard again by the time Tyler started begging, fucking Nick’s face, the sounds
leaving his mouth one long, continuous moan. “Pleasepleaseplease—need you…”

Nick flipped him onto his stomach and pushed inside him in a single powerful thrust, his
breath unsteady against Tyler’s ear, his body heavy on top of him. Tyler groaned, absolutely
loving the feeling. He didn’t know how he’d ever lived without it.
“You’re so damn tight,” Nick ground out, moving in him slowly, his grip bruising on Tyler’s
hips. “How can such a cock slut be so bloody tight?”

Moaning into his folded arms, Tyler arched his back and pushed onto Nick’s cock.
Goddammit. There was no better feeling in the world.

“So hungry for it.” Nick’s thrusts became short, his cock stabbing Tyler’s prostate again and
again. “I bet you’d do anything for cock.”

Tyler couldn’t speak, his body jerking at Nick’s every thrust.

“Everyone downstairs knows what we’re doing,” Nick said, wrapping his hand around Tyler’s
cock and wanking it. “Even if they didn’t guess that we left to fuck, they can probably hear
the sounds you’re making while you take my cock. Slut.”

Tyler groaned, a fresh wave of arousal hitting him hard. The fact that everyone downstairs
knew shouldn’t have turned him on so much—it should have made him panic instead of
making his balls and his cock ache with arousal. He was so bloody close…

Nick buried his face in his nape, breathing hard, his cock pistoning in and out of Tyler’s
cunt. “I bet if they listen hard enough, they’ll hear how wet you are around my cock.”

Tyler came, his orgasm so violent and intense that his eyes watered. He felt himself drift
away, feeling absolutely worn out.

The last thought he had before falling asleep was,

I’ll never be able to live without this.

Without him.
Chapter 17

Tyler generally hated mornings.

He wasn’t a morning person at all.

But this morning was pretty nice, he decided sleepily, pushing his face against his nice,
warm pillow that smelled ridiculously good.

Someone stroked his head, fingers raking pleasantly against his scalp. “It’s almost ten
already, Ty. Wake up.”

“No,” Tyler mumbled.

A soft chuckle. “Then at least let me go.”

Tyler frowned and opened his eyes blearily. He found himself looking at a wide, muscular
chest, which he’d apparently been using as a pillow.

Tyler blinked, thought for a moment, and then closed his eyes again. There would be plenty
of time to feel weirded out later. Now he felt too damn good and sleepy to feel much of
anything else.

“Tyler.”

“Go away, Nick,” Tyler muttered.

“It’s kind of hard when you’re sprawled all over me,” Nick said, his voice extremely dry.
Tyler sighed, and then lifted his head a little. He glared sleepily at Nick, who was looking at
him with faint amusement.

“I didn’t know you were a cuddler,” Nick said with a smirk. “I couldn’t breathe when I woke
up.”

Tyler wanted to flip him the bird, but it would be too much of an effort—and Tyler felt
ridiculously distracted by all the warm, golden skin and bed-hair.

Tyler groaned and dropped his head back on Nick’s chest. Holy shit, this was horrible.
Horrible. Part of him had been hoping that his stupid pseudo-infatuation would go away
after he indulged it a bit, but apparently not. If anything, it seemed to be worse.

“What is it?” Nick said, threading his fingers through Tyler’s hair.

Tyler almost moaned. Nick’s touch felt so good, but it really wasn’t helping the situation.

“I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush,” Tyler grumbled.

Nick’s fingers paused in his hair.

“Tyler…” he said, his voice a little off. Strained. Hesitant.

“Don’t say anything,” Tyler said. “I know. I know I’m fucking everything up. I’m trying, okay?
Like, I don’t want to feel this way about you. I’m sure I’ll get over this stupid shit soon. I don’t
want to fuck everything up.” This shit is just stronger than me.

There was silence for a while.

Finally, Nick removed his hand from Tyler’s hair and said, “Okay.”
He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t particularly gentle either, as he extracted himself from Tyler
and got out of the bed.

Tyler watched helplessly the way the muscles of Nick’s back shifted under his skin and
quickly averted his gaze before Nick turned around.

“Come on, get up,” Nick said, reaching for his clothes and then throwing Tyler’s at him. “It’s
pretty late already.”

Tyler eyed him carefully, but Nick seemed completely at ease. He didn’t seem angry at
him. Tyler must have imagined the sudden tension in the air.

Relaxing, Tyler reached for his clothes. He felt more than a little sore, but it was the good
kind of sore that reminded him of the fantastic sex they’d had. His skin still felt kind of raw
and oversensitive, but Tyler didn’t mind it, either.

The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he kind of really, really wanted a good
morning kiss. Or two.

Or three.

***

“So are you together now?” was the first thing Tristan said as he appeared in the kitchen,
looking fresh out of the shower.

“No,” Nick said.

Tyler gulped down his coffee and pushed his cup toward Nick, looking at him
pleadingly. Nick rolled his eyes but poured him another cup of coffee. Their knees brushed
under the table. Tyler blinked a few times, trying to gather his thoughts. He hoped he wasn’t
blushing. Ugh, this was the worst. It was like he was a teenager all over again, getting
goosebumps from the most innocent contact. This was his best mate, for fuck’s sake. Just
his best mate.

“Hmm,” Tristan said, opening the fridge. “Where’s my kale smoothie?”

Nick snorted. “I can’t believe I almost fell in love with someone who drinks a kale smoothie.
Revolting.”

Tristan flipped him the bird. “Your brother is. He’s putting me on a new, ‘healthy’ diet.”
Tristan made a face. “Apparently my cholesterol levels are so high it’s a wonder I’m still
alive.”

Tyler chuckled. “You’re the one who married the man.”

Tristan shrugged. “Yeah, I know. No regrets, though. He fucks like a dream.”

“Too much information,” Nick said, handing Tyler a piece of toast.

Tyler ate it.

“Not boyfriends, huh?” Tristan said, eyeing them with quirked brows.

Nick seemed very engrossed in making his own toast, so Tyler was the one who had to
answer this time.

Tyler suppressed the urge to claim that they were just platonic friends; it would be
ridiculous. Tristan had probably seen them kissing yesterday, and Tyler had stayed the
night—and they hadn’t exactly been quiet.

Tyler blushed at that thought and mumbled, “We’re best mates.” He paused before adding
hesitantly, “We just fuck. We’re mates who fuck. Sometimes. Well, more like every day, but
yeah. Mates with benefits. It’s a thing, right? People do it all the time.”
Nick didn’t lift his eyes from his toast.

Tristan gave Nick a long look before looking at Tyler. “Are you having a gay freak-out or
something? Get over it.”

Tyler opened his mouth and then closed it.

“That’s none of your business, Tristan,” Nick said, without looking up from his toast. “Don’t
bully Tyler.”

Tristan made an innocent face. “Who, me? Never. I just think if it looks like a duck, swims
like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s stupid to pretend it isn’t a duck.”

Neither Nick nor Tyler said anything.

Tyler stared down at his empty cup, trying to come up with something to say, something that
wouldn’t sound as if he were in denial. He wasn’t in denial, dammit. He and Nick weren’t like
that. They were just…They were just…

The tension was broken only when Zach entered the kitchen, looking sweaty and flushed. He
must have been on his morning run. “Morning, sleepy heads,” he said, ducking in to give
Tristan a quick kiss before getting orange juice from the fridge and drinking it.

Tyler watched Tristan as the latter hungrily watched his husband’s throat while Zach gulped
down the drink.

“Gross,” Tyler murmured to Nick, who just snorted, clearly used to it.

“Someone must have drunk the smoothie you made for me,” Tristan said, not even trying to
look upset about it.
Zach smirked at him and pulled out a kale smoothie from the smaller fridge under the
counter. “Here it is, honey.”

Tristan looked crestfallen.

Tyler chuckled and looked from them to Nick, intending to share his amusement, but there
was no trace of a smile on Nick’s face.

In fact, Nick’s face was expressionless as he sipped his coffee, his eyes hard, with that
familiar unfriendly edge to them.

Tyler eyed him, unsure what had caused the change. Could Nick still be into Tristan? Could
he be jealous of his brother?

Tyler frowned, disliking the thought immensely and hating how much it bothered him. Yikes.
This was so gross. Jealousy was ugly in general, but getting jealous over one’s best mate
was just gross and all kinds of stupid.

Thoroughly annoyed with the way he was feeling around Nick, Tyler decided it would be
better if he left.

Trying to act casual, Tyler kicked Nick slightly under the table. “Hey, I have to go. I just
remembered that the pub is running short on supplies.” It wasn’t even a lie, strictly speaking.

Nick nodded and followed him out of the kitchen. Tyler wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t as though
Tyler didn’t know the way out. Nick normally didn’t bother accompanying him to the door.

Acutely aware of Nick’s presence behind him, Tyler slipped into his jacket and patted his
pockets to make sure he hadn’t forgotten his phone or his keys.

“Um…right,” Tyler said, with an awkward half-smile, turning around. Shit, he had no idea what
was wrong with him. He’d never felt this awkward and unsure in his life, his muscles tense
and his stomach all weird and fluttery.
Nick just looked at him with the same unreadable expression, his shoulders absolutely
relaxed. Asshole.

He also looked so fucking good that Tyler kind of wanted to lick him.

Grimacing on the inside, Tyler said, “I’ll go, then.”

“Tyler,” Nick said when he started turning away. “About what Tristan said…”

Tyler stiffened, looking at him warily.

“Ignore him,” Nick said, looking him in the eye. “He acts as if it’s easy to ‘get over a gay
freak-out.’ It never is, especially with your par—with a background like yours, and he
shouldn’t have been so flippant about it. He had no right to pressure you into something you
aren’t ready for and may not ever be ready.”

Tyler felt his throat close up and he had to look away for a moment to pull himself
together. “Thanks, man. I…You’re the best.”

Nick gave him a crooked smile, rubbing his scruffy jawline tiredly. “Yeah, whatever.” He
clapped Tyler on his back, and it was all very manly and very bro-like.

So of course Tyler had to ruin it.

He lunged at Nick and kissed him sloppily, burying his hand in Nick’s thick bed-hair that had
been driving him crazy for the past hour. He pushed his tongue inside Nick’s mouth, sighing
a little at the delicious contrast between Nick’s soft, wet mouth and rough, unshaven jaw.

After a moment, Nick finally responded, his hand coming up to cradle Tyler’s face as he
kissed Tyler back, deep and hard. Tyler heard himself moan and then he remembered pretty
much nothing.
He had no clue how much time passed before Nick broke the kiss. Nick pulled back, his eyes
dark, soft, and intense. “Goddammit, Ty.” He shook his head with a pinched expression and
then turned and disappeared back into the kitchen without so much as a goodbye.

Tyler sagged back against the wall, his whole body singing with pleasure, his lips sore, and
his mind in utter panic.

Fuck.

What was he doing?

Chapter 18

After arriving at the pub, Tyler disappeared into the back and started doing the task he
usually didn’t mind—restocking of shelves—but even such an easy, repetitive job proved to
be difficult that day.

He couldn’t focus on anything. He kept catching himself staring off into space, his mind
elsewhere.

“What’s wrong with you today, boss?” Zoe said.

Flinching, Tyler glared at her half-heartedly. “Nothing.”

She snorted. “If you say so, boss.”

One day he was going to sack her for having no respect for him. Even her “boss” was
mocking, Tyler was sure of it. Not that he blamed her for secretly mocking him. He would
probably mock himself too if he had a loser like him as his boss.

Zoe raised her eyebrows with a smirk. “You just seem very distracted today. That’s all I’m
saying.” Her words were perfectly ordinary, but there was little doubt as to what she was
implying.

Women were fucking scary. How did she know?

Tyler scowled at her and said in his most authoritative voice (which he suspected wasn’t
very authoritative), “Get back to work, Zoe.”

Rolling her eyes, Zoe did get back to work.

Tyler… Tyler tried to. He still couldn’t focus for shit. He kept thinking about the most stupid,
ridiculous things like Nick’s mouth, Nick’s hands, Nick’s dark gaze, and Nick’s muscular body
on top of him. He kept getting a boner remembering all the sex they’d had last night, the filth
Nick whispered into his ear as he fucked Tyler hard, his scent, the feel of his stubble against
his skin, his arms around him—

“Get a fucking grip,” Tyler said as he dropped another can because of his distracted state.
He was a fucking mess. He was acting like a fifteen-year-old girl who’d had her first cock and
now couldn’t get enough. This was ridiculous. He needed to focus on his work, not
daydream about his best mate’s various body parts. He really was acting like a schoolgirl
with a crush. A very horny schoolgirl with a crush.

Enough.

Nodding resolutely to himself, Tyler reached for another box.

He wondered what Nick was doing.

Tyler groaned. This was really ridiculous. It had been two and a half hours since he’d left the
Hardaways’ house, for fuck’s sake. He was acting like those clingy girlfriends who couldn’t
live without checking on their boyfriend every hour. Not that Nick was his boyfriend—which
was the point. Nick wasn’t his boyfriend, because Tyler wasn’t gay.

“At least tell me if she’s hot, boss,” Zoe said, grinning. “Do I know her?”

Tyler glowered at her. “Get back to work.”

“Come on, boss, I’m curious!” Zoe said. “I’ve never seen you like that.”

“Like what?” he gritted out.

She smirked. “All dreamy-eyed.”

To Tyler’s mortification, he felt himself blush. “I’m not dreamy-eyed.”

Zoe’s smirk was still there. “So who is she? Come on, maybe I can help you out. I’m a
woman, too. I can give you a woman’s perspective.”

Tyler snorted and muttered, “I don’t need a woman’s perspective.”

When her eyes widened, he deeply regretted his careless words.

“Blimey. You’re mooning over a bloke?”

“I’m not mooning,” Tyler gritted out.

Her smile was coy. “But it is a bloke. Wow. I thought you were totally straight. The
straightest bloke to ever straight.”

“It’s not funny,” Tyler grumbled, looking away. He felt…oddly not panicked that someone else
had found out. It was weird. He kind of expected to be freaking out, but he felt nothing but
mild annoyance and embarrassment. Maybe the fact that Zoe was lesbian made him more
comfortable talking about it with her.

For the first time in all the time he’d known her, Zoe seemed totally serious as she said, “I’m
sorry, you’re right. Are you okay?” Something like discomfort flashed across her face. “I
know your parents are…conservative.”

“They don’t know,” Tyler said. “There’s no reason for them to know. Because I’m straight.” He
hated how defensive he sounded.

He expected her to call him on it, but Zoe just gave him a long, understanding look.

“But you’re into another guy,” she said.

Pursing his lips, Tyler shrugged. “It’s…It’s complicated.”

“It always is.”

When she didn’t say anything else, Tyler hesitated. He kind of wanted to talk to someone, to
figure out what the hell was going on, and he could hardly talk to his best friend about this.

“I just…” Tyler raked a hand through his hair. “He’s my best mate. It was supposed to be
meaningless buddy-fucking—it was about getting me off—I was never supposed to want
him! I don’t know how it happened.” Tyler deflated, his face becoming hot. “But now I think
about him all the bloody time.”

Zoe made a thoughtful sound, her dark eyes a little curious. “Is he your first man?”
“Um, yeah. Obviously.”

“Maybe you should try sleeping with another man? It could help you figure out whether you
want that particular bloke or just the sex.”

Tyler couldn’t stop the instinctive grimace at the thought of gay sex with some other guy.
“Tried it already,” he said stiffly. “Chickened out at the last minute.” Not to mention that he
hadn’t been attracted to Greg in the least; all he had wanted was to get fucked and he
couldn’t even manage that.

Tyler bit the inside of his cheek, averting his gaze. “And I’m pretty sure I want him, not just
cock.” It was impossible to deny it after he’d spent the last few hours thinking about Nick’s
mouth on his. Tyler made a face. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I like women.
I love everything about them. I’m not gay.”

Zoe sighed. “Tyler. Look at me.”

He did, reluctantly.

Zoe’s expression was tight, her eyes glinting. “I fooled around with my best friend too when I
was seventeen,” she said quietly. “She was my first, and I…I developed feelings for her, but
she was straight. It wasn’t serious for her—at least I assumed that it wasn’t. I convinced
myself that it wasn’t serious for me, either. So I said nothing, I pretended that it was just
meaningless fooling around, that I was straight, too.” Her smile was wide, but there was
something infinitely sad and fragile about it. “A few years later, I was the maid of honor at
her wedding. I came home from her wedding and looked at my empty flat and…” Zoe’s voice
wavered and she looked away. “I wished I could reverse time,” she said hoarsely. “I wished I
hadn’t been such a coward. Maybe if I weren’t, we would have been together. Or maybe we
wouldn’t be, but at least I wouldn’t have kept thinking about what ifs and maybes and
drinking my weight in vodka on her wedding day.”

Tyler felt something heavy and unpleasant settle in his stomach. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled woodenly. “Yeah. Just…Don’t repeat my mistakes. I know it’s scary, I know it’s
hard to accept what you are, but do it before it’s too late. He won’t wait for you forever while
you figure yourself out. If you stay in denial, he willmove on. He will eventually meet
someone else and fall in love with them. If you’re talking about Nick, guys like him don’t stay
single for long.”

Tyler licked his dry lips, the knot of anxiety in his stomach worsening by the
second. “He’s…You’ve got it wrong,” he managed. “He isn’t waiting for me to figure myself
out. He doesn’t want me that way for real. I’m not even his type.”

Zoe shrugged. “I assumed that Phoebe wasn’t serious about me, either.”

“Was she?”

Turning away, she laughed. “But that’s the thing. I’ll never know now.”

Tyler watched her clean the counter with jerky movements of her hands and felt a wave of
pity. Not knowing for sure was probably the worst thing about Zoe’s story—she had no
closure and was unable to truly move on. He wondered if that was why Zoe was almost as
terrible at relationships as him, picking up a new girl every few weeks, unable to commit.

He thought about Nick, imagined him falling in love with some gay man, someone who knew
what he wanted and who would make Nick happy. It would happen eventually. Zoe was right:
a man as attractive and confident as Nick wasn’t going to be single for long. Nick would
inevitably meet someone. The Hardaways were family men. Nick might fuck around now, but
he was going to eventually want stability, love, and family. Brad—or someone else—would
gladly give Nick whatever he wanted. And Tyler…Tyler would probably be the best man—if
Nick didn’t get tired of him long before that.

Something hot and ugly filled Tyler’s chest, his mouth tasting like acid. He felt sick.

“I’m fine with my sexuality now,” Zoe said, without turning around. Her voice sounded
nothing like her normal sarcastic one. “But you can’t turn back time.” She chuckled. “Last I
heard, she had two kids.”

Tyler felt as though someone had deposited a ton of lead in his stomach.
Suddenly, he wanted Nick. Badly.

He wanted to hear his voice. Now.

Tyler headed for the back door.

Once outside, he breathed in the fresh air greedily, but it did nothing to quell the panic
building in his chest.

He pulled out his mobile.

Nick answered on the second ring. “Tyler?”

Tyler closed his eyes, leaning back against the door. He didn’t know when Nick’s low voice
had started making feel warm and giddy on the inside. Just hearing it made him feel
instantly better. Safer. “Hey. Are you still at Zach’s?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Tyler chewed on his lip, unsure who he was talking to: his best mate Nick or his assholish
lover Nick. The worst part was, Tyler wasn’t sure which of them he wanted now. He wanted
his best mate’s easy acceptance and affection, but he also wanted…other things. Fuck, he
was such a mess.

“I need you,” Tyler said, and then promptly flushed. “I mean I need to see you.”

There was silence on the line.

Finally, Nick said, “You saw me a few hours ago,” he said. He sounded guarded. “Did
something happen?”
Tyler bit the tip of his tongue. “What if I said that I just wanted to see you?” he said. “No
reason at all?”

There was another silence before he heard Nick swear.

“What are you doing, Tyler?” Nick said.

Did he sound angry?

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, his stomach in knots. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice
small. “I’m sorry—I just…” He forced a chuckle. “Forget it. It’s stupid. I’m being stupid. I don’t
know what I was thinking—”

“Ty,” Nick said. “Are you at the pub?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” Nick said and hung up.

Tyler didn’t bother going inside, even though it was chilly outside. He waited, leaning back
against the cold wall and thinking about what he was going to say to Nick.

He had no idea. Should he try to play it cool and act like buddies? But something inside him
cringed away from the idea. He didn’t want a buddy right now. He wanted…he wanted
reassurance that he wasn’t alone in this, that it wasn’t just him. Nick was so hard to read.
Tyler didn’t know what was going on in his mind. Did he still see Tyler as his mate? Tyler
wasn’t sure.

Fuck, the mere fact that he was so nervous about whether Nick liked him that way or not
was weirding him out. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. They were men, not little
girls. Why did he have to make things so cringey? Why couldn’t he be satisfied with getting
off without needlessly complicating everything? Was he going to want to hold hands with
Nick next?
Tyler imagined Nick’s long, strong fingers entwining with his, and felt stupidly warm at the
idea. Bloody hell. He was a man. Men weren’t supposed to want things like that, and
definitely not with other men.

I know it’s scary, I know it’s hard to accept what you are, but do it before it’s too late. He
won’t wait for you forever while you figure yourself out.

He couldn’t get Zoe’s words out of his mind. Frankly, they scared him. Although Nick had
told him to ignore Tristan’s words and not to feel pressured into doing what he wasn’t ready
for, Zoe’s story made him feel panicky and unsure all over again.

Was he in denial?

Was he being a coward?

Tyler thought about this morning—how good it had felt to wake up snuggled against Nick,
with Nick’s fingers threading through his hair, Nick’s scent in his nose and all that warm,
naked skin against his. It had felt beyond good. He had felt…happy. So bloody happy. He’d
felt like he belonged. He wanted that, more than anything. Tyler wanted him.

Tyler pulled out his phone again and stared at his contacts.

He couldn’t find his mother in his recent calls. How long had it been since he had last talked
to her?

Finally, he found her contact and tapped Call.

The phone rang four times before she answered.

“Mum?” he croaked out.

“What is it, dear?” she said, sounding distracted.

“I…”

“Is it urgent, Tyler? I’m rather busy now.”

Tyler licked his dry lips. “I think I might be bi.”

There was dead silence on the line.

“Pardon?” she said at last.

“I think I’m bisexual,” he said and looked down at his shoes while he waited for her reaction.
It was strange. Saying it aloud felt a lot less daunting than he’d expected. He
felt…almost relieved. It was done. Even if she hated him now, there was nothing to fear
anymore. It was done.

“Tyler, I have no time for your silly jokes,” she said tersely. “When are you going to finally
grow up?”

Tyler blinked, absolutely speechless. She knew he wasn’t joking. She had to, right? Why was
she pretending that he was?

“I’m serious, Mum,” he tried, but she cut him off.

“Of course you aren’t,” she said. “Call me when you learn how to be a responsible adult.” And
she hung up.

Tyler stared at his phone numbly before a laugh tore out of his throat.
He laughed, and laughed, until something in his chest hurt.

“Tyler?”

He looked up, and there stood Nick in his dark leather jacket, a cigarette in his hand.

Tyler didn’t know what was written on his face, but Nick frowned and strode over. “Hey,” he
said, laying a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Tyler tried to smile, but he suspected he failed. He must look truly pathetic, because Nick’s
frown deepened. “Ty?”

And fuck it, maybe he was weak, maybe he wasn’t manly, but all he wanted at that moment
was to be in Nick’s arms. He all but fell against Nick, burying his face in his neck and
drinking in his familiar scent like a drowning man would breathe air.

After a moment, Nick’s arms came up around him and squeezed him tightly. “What’s wrong,
Ty?” he said. When Tyler didn’t say anything, his voice softened. “Sweetheart, talk to me.
Come on, love.”

Tyler shivered, squirming closer to him. It was the first time Nick had used endearments
outside of sex. This time Nick sounded as if he actually meant them.

“Mum thought I was joking,” Tyler said with a laugh. His eyes were stinging, so he pressed
them against Nick’s shoulder. “Fucking joking.”

“About what?” Nick said, running his fingers through Tyler’s hair.

“I told her that I was bi, and she told me to grow up.”

He felt Nick go rigid against him. “You told her you are bi?”
Tyler nodded.

Nick’s fingers resumed stroking his hair, his other arm tightening around Tyler. “You were
very brave,” he said. “You did well, love.”

Tyler’s insides warmed at the praise and the endearment, but he shook his head. “It was a
waste of time,” he mumbled. “She didn’t even take me seriously. They never do.”

“Because they’re close-minded, overbearing assholes,” Nick said, his tone harsh.

Tyler hesitated, torn between his loyalty to his parents and the urge to agree with Nick. “They
love me.”

“Maybe they do.” There was something dark and sharp about Nick’s voice, as if he was
saying something that he’d been repressing for a long time. “But it doesn’t change the fact
that they want to control your life. They tell you to grow up, but at the same time they don’t
want to let you make your own decisions.”

Tyler opened his mouth and then closed it.

“You’re almost twenty-five, Ty,” Nick said, his voice softening. “Not a little boy. They don’t
need to approve your life choices anymore. They raised you, and they’re your parents, but
you are a grown person, and an amazing one. You don’t need to ‘grow up.’ You don’t have to
make them happy. If they don’t appreciate you the way you are, if they don’t see what a good
son you are, it’s their loss, not yours. You just need to see yourself as the adult you are.”

“You really think I’m amazing?” Tyler muttered into Nick’s shoulder.

Nick pulled back a little and, tilting Tyler’s chin up, forced him to look him in the eye. “I
wouldn’t stick around such a ridiculous peacock for so long if I didn’t know that under all
that macho bullshit, you’re an amazing person. Anyone who thinks otherwise just doesn’t
know you.”
Tyler stared at Nick, filled with a tidal wave of pure adoration. Surging forward, he kissed
Nick clumsily on the mouth—or tried to.

Nick took his shoulders and pushed him away. “Look, you’re confused now, and I don’t think
it’s a good idea—”

“You just said that I shouldn’t be afraid to make my own decisions,” Tyler said, trying to
convince himself that Nick wasn’t rejecting him. He was only partly successful. The insecure
voice at the back of his mind kept whispering that Nick would never be into a loser like him.

“Yes, but I think you need to figure yourself out first,” Nick said firmly, his face closing off
again.

And suddenly, Tyler was angry, at himself more than anyone else. Why did he turn into such
an insecure ninny where Nick was concerned? He was hot! He had an amazing body, a more
than average cock, and pretty blue eyes. Women were crazy about him. There was no reason
Nick couldn’t like him. In fact, just yesterday Tyler had made Nick forget all about
Brad—who was Nick’s type—so why was he being such an insecure twat now?

“You’re right,” Tyler said, pulling back and trying not to show how much he already missed
the heat of Nick’s body. He dropped his gaze and looked at Nick from under his eyelashes. “I
should probably experiment a little, figure out what I like, what kind of guys I’m into…”

Nick took out another cigarette and lit it, his face like stone. To Tyler’s disappointment, Nick
didn’t look jealous, even though there was some strange tension about him.

“I thought you quit,” Tyler said.

Nick made a noncommittal gesture with his shoulders and took a long drag, his gaze dark
and intent on his face. “So you’re fine with being into men now? That’s sudden.”

Tyler shrugged, trying to gauge Nick’s emotions. “I’m not fine, not exactly, but someone
made me realize that at this point it’s kind of useless to deny that I’m a bit gay. So I must be
bi, right?”

Nick’s eyes seemed to bore into his face. “Are you asking me?”

Tyler pouted. “You don’t take me seriously, either.”

Nick’s inscrutable expression didn’t change.

Tyler sighed exasperatedly. “Stop doing that! It’s driving me crazy!”

“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.”

Tyler glowered at him, pointing at his unreadable face. “This! I can’t understand you at all!
You blow hot and cold all the goddamn time. You go from being my nice, understanding best
mate to being this asshole who looks at me like he wants to fuck me or fight me—I don’t
even know anymore!” He deflated, frowning in confusion. “It’s messing with my head, Nick.”

A strange expression crossed Nick’s face. He dropped his cigarette and carefully
extinguished it with his boot, all the while looking at him with that weird intense look Tyler
couldn’t quite read.

“I’m ‘blowing hot and cold’ because I don’t know what the hell you want from me,” Nick said
at last. “One day you say you’re straight and all you want is my cock to get off. Next day, you
say that you get jealous over me and don’t want to share me. The day after that, you say that
you’re straight but then you kiss me. Then you say you’re bi, but that you’re going to
experiment with other guys.” Nick laughed, the sound rough. “Who is messing with whose
head?”

Tyler opened his mouth but couldn’t come up with anything to say. When put that way, he
could see where Nick was coming from. He would probably be really pissed off if he were in
Nick’s shoes, too.

“I didn’t mean to,” Tyler said, looking at him earnestly.

A muscle flexed in Nick’s jaw. “I know. That’s the only reason I’m still here. But look, you
need to bloody decide once and for all what you want me to be, and then nobody’s head will
get messed with. Do you want me to be your best mate, Tyler?”

Before Tyler could say yes, Nick said, “Just your best mate?”

Tyler’s stomach clenched. Unable to speak, he shook his head.

“Fuck-buddy?” Nick said without much inflection.

Biting his lip, Tyler could only stare at him uncertainly. “What…what do you mean by a
fuck-buddy?”

“It means I’ll fuck you, but I’ll date other guys and you won’t get to be jealous.”

Tyler dropped his gaze, frowning. He wished he could agree to this, but his stomach hurt at
the mere idea of Nick fucking, kissing and touching another guy. Hell, he didn’t want Nick
to look at other guys.

He shook his head. “Is it…is it possible to be best mates who fuck and kiss, but exclusively?”

There was dead silence.

Finally, Nick took Tyler’s chin in his hand and tipped his face up. Nick’s expression was a
little pinched. “Are you looking for the word ‘boyfriend,’ maybe?”

Tyler swallowed.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, Tyler?” Nick said, studying him.

Tyler licked his dry lips, his face uncomfortably warm.

Nick suddenly grinned, looking more relaxed and carefree than Tyler had seen him in
months. “You totally do, don’t you? Look at that blush!”

“Fuck off,” Tyler muttered, punching him in the chest a little.

Nick dropped his smile and, leaning in, kissed him on the cheek lightly. Tyler shivered,
enjoying the feel of Nick’s stubble against his skin.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, love?” Nick said, his voice husky and intimate. He pressed
another kiss against Tyler’s cheek. “I’ll treat you so well, I promise.”

“Um, okay,” Tyler said, feeling far too breathless from such an innocent contact. “I feel funny,
Nick,” he murmured, burying his fingers in Nick’s thick hair.

Nick kissed his ear. “In what way?”

“Like, all fluttery on the inside and shit,” Tyler said, whimpering a little as Nick licked his
earlobe. “Like I’ve swallowed bubbles and they’re tickling me from the inside. It’s fucking
weird.”

Nick laughed, pulling him closer against his body. “You’re such an idiot. It’s a good thing
you’re so pretty.”

“Hey!” Tyler said, pouting.

Nick kissed the pout off his lips.

Tyler sighed happily, soaking it up. It felt so, so good. Kisses had never felt so
toe-curlingly good until Nick.

He whined in protest when Nick pulled back a little.

“I don’t mind,” Nick said hoarsely, looking him in the eye and stroking Tyler’s cheek. “I
fucking love everything about you.”

Tyler licked his lips, the bubbles in his chest becoming so bad he was almost afraid he’d
start floating. “Like, like a mate?”

Nick smirked, his eyes hooded. “Not quite like a mate.”

Tyler smiled, averted his gaze, looked back at Nick and grinned helplessly before hiding his
flushed face against Nick’s shoulder. “Ugh. This is so gross. We’re being such girls. Ugh.”

He felt Nick laugh. “You’re such a ridiculous person,” he said, dropping a kiss on top of
Tyler’s head.

Tyler smiled against Nick’s shoulder, feeling so giddy he didn’t know what to do with
himself.  “Love you, too,” he mumbled, kissing Nick’s throat and breathing in his clean,
masculine scent. “Not like a mate,” he added, in case it wasn’t obvious.

Nick’s arms just tightened around him in response.

Tyler allowed himself to enjoy this moment for a few minutes before deciding that this was
becoming way too sappy and embarrassing.

“Let’s fuck,” he said, lifting his head.

Nick’s answering laugh was the best fucking sound in the world, Tyler decided, grinning
back.
Epilogue

“Aww, aren’t you two the cutest?” Tristan said, flopping on the couch and smirking down at
Tyler and Nick really obnoxiously. “I always knew you’d be adorable together.”

“I called it ages ago,” Miles chimed in, without looking up from his phone.

“I hate your family,” Tyler said from where he was sprawled out on the carpet, using Nick’s
lap as a pillow.

Looking away from the cards in his hand, Nick smiled down at him. “Liar.”

Tyler found himself smiling back. Okay, maybe he was lying, a bit. More than a bit. He loved
the Hardaways, and he was incredibly grateful to them for allowing him to spend Christmas
with them and making him feel so included. He’d always been comfortable around them, but
now that he and Nick were together, they all were even warmer toward him. Tyler hoped they
weren’t just pitying him because of his parents. Tyler didn’t think Nick had told his family
about his parents, but considering that Tyler was spending Christmas with the Hardaways,
they all had probably guessed how bad things were with his parents.

Tyler’s smile slipped a bit. His parents hadn’t taken the news well—to put it mildly. His
mother was still refusing to speak to him. His father…the only thing his father had said was,
“I’m not even surprised. A normal man would have settled down by now.”

Tyler…he’d expected to feel absolutely gutted, but he was surprisingly okay, actually. He felt
almost relieved, in a way. Now that his relationship with his parents had hit rock bottom, he
had nothing to fear anymore. It was done. Maybe their relationship would improve, maybe
not, but things could only get better now. It would probably take a long time until things got
better, if they ever did, but Tyler was surprisingly okay with it. Of course it helped immensely
that the one person who’d always had his back was even closer to him than before, so close
that sometimes Tyler wasn’t sure where he ended and Nick began.

Being in a relationship with Nick was weirdly not weird at all. It was fucking awesome. Tyler
got all the perks of a best friend coupled with all the great sex in the world. He could kiss
Nick anytime he wanted—and he wanted to kiss Nick all the goddamn time lately. It was kind
of embarrassing, really, but Tyler found that he loved kissing Nick almost as much as he
loved having Nick’s prick in him. He was turning into a total kiss slut. Was that a thing?

Tyler grinned a little, looking up to stare at his boyfriend as Nick played cards with his
brothers. Nick had a frown of intense concentration on his face—the Hardaways were
hilariously competitive when it came to card games—so Tyler could look his fill without
being caught gazing at Nick like a sap. He could study his features, expressive of every
emotion Nick was feeling. Nick’s jaw clenched tightly as he glowered at Ryan who had just
accused him of cheating. Tyler wet his lips, wanting to lick the scowl off Nick’s mouth. And
kiss him. And do other things to him.

“Gross,” Miles said with a snort, kicking Tyler.

Tyler glared at him, his face warming. If there was one thing he hated about the Hardaways,
it was the lack of privacy. There were just so many of them. One couldn’t even ogle one’s
own boyfriend without being made fun of.

“The honeymoon phase is sickening, isn’t it?” Tristan said, smirking. “I feel secondhand
embarrassment just from being around those two.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “As if you and Zach aren’t as sickening. You’ve been together for two
years. What’s your excuse?”

Tristan shrugged before slipping shamelessly into his husband’s lap. “My husband is the
hottest man in this room,” he declared, peering into Zach’s cards. “That’s my excuse.”

“Stop distracting me, brat,” Zach said but he wrapped his free arm around Tristan.
“I disagree,” James chimed in, from where he was sitting leaned against Ryan’s shoulder.
“My boyfriend is the hottest man in this room.”

Tyler looked from Zach to Ryan and scrunched up his nose in thought. He supposed they
both were hot. The Hardaways were blessed with some great genes, really. Ryan was kind of
ridiculously handsome, but Zach’s striking bone structure appealed to Tyler more.

“I think Zach is hotter than Ryan,” he said.

Ryan said, laughing, “Ouch.”

Tristan grinned at Tyler. “I like you. Can we keep him?”

Nick looked down at Tyler intently. “We will.”

Tyler licked his lips. Dammit, he really, really wanted a kiss. Could the rest of the Hardaways
disappear for a minute so that Tyler could snog his own boyfriend?

“Tyler’s opinion doesn’t count,” James said with a laugh. “Zach looks pretty much like Nick
with different hair color, so Tyler’s opinion isn’t exactly unbiased.”

“Hey, I’m extremely unbiased!” Tyler said.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Jimmy!” Tristan said, sticking his tongue out. “You lost. Suck it up.”

“Don’t call me Jimmy,” James grumbled, glaring at his half-brother.

“Don’t fight, children,” John said, rolling his eyes. “It’s Christmas.”
Tyler found himself grinning.

He was happy. He was really, really happy.

He looked back at Nick and found him looking at him already.

Nick brushed his thumb against Tyler’s smiling lips, his gaze weirdly dark and soft at the
same time. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas,” Tyler whispered, grinning helplessly.

And fuck it, he was getting that kiss even if the entire Hardaway clan watched them snog.

Tyler grabbed the front of Nick’s shirt and pulled him down. “C’mere. It’s been two whole
hours since you kissed me.”

Nick was laughing as their lips smashed together.

The angle was awkward as hell, there were wolf whistles and laughter all around the room,
but it was still the best kiss of Tyler’s life.

It tasted of happiness.

Just a Bit Gay

(Book #9 in the Straight Guys series)

Alessandra Hazard

The Straight Guys series:

Xavier and Sage: Straight Boy: A Short Story (Book #0.5)

Derek and Shawn: Just a Bit Twisted (Book #1)

Alexander and Christian: Just a Bit Obsessed (Book #2)

Jared and Gabriel: Just a Bit Unhealthy (Book #3)

Zach and Tristan: Just a Bit Wrong (Book #4)

Ryan and James: Just a Bit Confusing (Book #5)

Roman and Luke: Just a Bit Ruthless (Book #6)

Vlad and Sebastian: Just a Bit Wicked (Book #7)

Dominic and Sam: Just a Bit Shameless (Book #8)

Copyright © 2018 Alessandra Hazard

Editor: Elizabeth Balmanno

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any
manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use
of brief quotations in a book review.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author’s
imagination.

This book contains explicit sex and graphic language.

Publisher’s Note:

Since this book has British characters, some British English words are retained, but spelling
conforms to American English conventions. All characters in this book are completely
fictional and bear no resemblance to any living person. Any resemblance to actual events is
purely coincidental.

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