Chapter 3
He was lying on his bed, head in his hands and legs stretched out when he heard a knock on his door. Groaning, he responded, "Yeah, come in."
When the door opened, he was surprised.
It was Rusty.
He bolted upright. "I thought you had stuff you had to get done?" He nervously wiped his sweaty palms on his legs..
Rusty said nothing. He shut the door, locked it and turned to look at Cappie. The look in his eyes made Cappie gulp and shift on his bed.
". . . You okay?"
Still, he didn't answer. After a few more seconds, Rusty moved to the bed and sat down, his back to Cappie.
Worry welled up in Cappie. "Hey . . ." He reached his hand forward and placed it on Rusty's back. The other boy stiffened in response. "Rusty, what's wrong?" Cappie shook Rusty's shoulder roughly before forcing his body to turn and face him. The sight that greeted him both excited and terrified him.
Rusty's eyes were glazed over and his face was flushed red. His chest heaved with heavy breaths. Cappie felt heat spread throughout his abdomen and creep up his spine. His member twitched.
Both of them said nothing and then, out of nowhere, they were tangled in each other; teeth nipping at every spot of uncovered skin, hips grinding into each other desperately.
There wasn't much time to think.
He didn't even want to think.
He dared not speak a word; he couldn't bring himself to ruin this moment.
Cappie urged Rusty to move up the bed and when he complied, Cappie pinned his arms on either side of his head. He kissed and nipped at the younger boys jawline, his earlobes; anywhere he could get at. Rusty was writhing underneath of him, a moaning mess of a man, his hips rising off the bed to grind into him.
God, it turned him on.
Rusty began tugging at Cappie's shirt, urgent with his desire. He sat up and pulled it off, tossing it aside. He motioned for Rusty to lean up and began unbuttoning his red button-up.
'How classy.' He thought.
He noticed that he slowed when he reached the bottom. Something felt . . . Weird.
He was nervous.
CAPPIE was nervous. The guy who bedded women faster than a fat guy downed a 12-pack of doughnuts was nervous about what was about to occur. It was life-changing, but most importantly, it changed their relationship completely. If things ever went bad, there was the possibility of not being able to salvage the friendship that came before the romance.
Then Rusty whimpered and Cappie lost it again.
He ripped his shirt off the rest of the way and that's when Rusty started pulling at his pants. Cappie had both of their pants of in a flash, the only article of clothing left being their boxers. Cappie pressed his full weight onto Rusty, who in return ground his hips roughly, more whimpers escaping his lips. Cappie latched onto Rusty's neck and ground himself deeper onto the smaller boy. Maybe it was his tongue flicking out over the taught skin of his neck, or maybe it was the occasional nip that was driving Rusty crazy - Cappie wasn't sure; what he was sure of was that the smaller boy was going wild beneath him. His moans were taking Cappie down with him.
He pulled at Rusty's waistband, telling him to lift his hips making it easier to remove his boxers. They had to pause for Cappie to remove his own, and then they were on each other again. When Cappie felt Rusty's hardness against his own, he almost came right then. He was actually surprised Rusty hadn't. Their rocking motions became more erratic, their breaths came in hot puffs into each other's ears. Rusty's body tensed, his mouth opened in a silent moan, and he shuddered into Cappie. Cappie's hips gave a few more erratic thrusts before . . .
Before his eyes snapped open and the thing that filled his vision was his ceiling, not Rusty's flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. His chest was heaving and he felt stickiness in his pants that he hadn't experienced since middle school.
With the realization that everything he thought had just occurred was, in reality, not real - a frustrated cry escaped his mouth.
"What the fuck?!" He punched repeatedly into his mattress, gritting his teeth together in frustration.
He heard a couple of shouts echoing in the house and then what sounded like a bull stomping up the stairs. Probably Beaver. There were some thumps on the door and then Beave's muffled voice saying something about rescuing the last pop-tart for him. When Cappie didn't answer, Beaver knocked again. "You there?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm here. You eat it, dude. I'm not really that hungry right now." Cappie sighed, rolling out of bed to examine the damage in his pants. A series of curses resounded into the room, causing Beaver to scamper off.
As he stripped his soiled boxers and ruffled through his room for a clean pair, he was hit with the stark realization that this wasn't going to simply go away. It wasn't even going to take a while, like it had with Casey. This was a deeper rooted affection that he was, frankly, just not familiar with. And it was getting kind of scary. He felt like a creep, like he had raped Rusty or something. The fear he had felt in his dream about ruining their friendship, well, with his erratic behavior he would do that on his own without any kind of confession.
So, he needed to just tell Rusty what was going on. It was better to just lay it out and have an awkward ending than a blowout if he ever lost control.
But he needed to rally his strength and get a little drunk before that happened.
Tomorrow, he would face his demons.
"Hey, Beaver!" He called out. "I take it back, I am hungry. LUNCH BUFFET!" His yell was met with roaring cheers that resounded throughout the entire house.
