Jesus fucking Christ. Fucking Jesus Christ. Christ fucking Jesus. Which doesn't work the way I want and laughter hitches in my throat, or would except this would be the worst fucking time to laugh, ever. I really don't want to be here, still rutting into Kyle's pale little ass, and laugh. At least he's still wearing a shirt. And his - Kyle's - fingers grasp the edge of his mattress, fisting the sheets. Should not use the word fisting right now. I can hear his constant stream of fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck and I'm not sure if he's lamenting what we're doing or enjoying it. Probably both, cause that's what I feel. My dick has never felt anything so good and my head has never known anything to be so wrong.
He convulses in this little spasm, muscles tightening, and I'm leaning my head forward against Kyle's back as I orgasm, not sure if he wanted me to come inside him, not sure if it matters. We're drunk. He probably won't know the difference. Just have to clean him up before we pass out. Waking up with splooge dripping out your ass. Ugh. Splooge. Ugh.
Kyle doesn't look like he's coming any time soon so I pull out and peel off the condom because it takes me a few seconds to work up enough courage to reach around and jerk him off. His dick doesn't feel so different from mine. Hotter, I guess. Warmer, that is. Not more attractive. I don't like penis.
He arches, thrusts, squirms a little. His eyes are closed and I hope it's in ecstasy not out of a desire to avoid looking at me. I'm giving him a hand job. He better not be avoiding me. My goddamn face. I bet I look fucked up. High off my first time ramming a guy's ass and drunk out of my head. Not just a gay. Guy. Kyle. My best friend. Shit. We've fucked up.
His semen. On my hand. I'm thinking more that it's happening than how it feels. I can't handle that right now. Yet or ever. We're a sticky, sweaty mess and I'm thinking I hurt him with my lack of preparation. It's not my first time with anal and I know the right things to do. I should've been more careful. Fuck our bodies for wanting this. Or acting like they did. Do.
Kyle's already up and wiping himself off with a shirt. I don't think I should do the same. Ha. Hey Kyle, let me use your Megadeth shirt to get your cum off my stomach. Thanks. Best friend. Kyle throws the soiled shirt, then our discarded pants, on his bed and peels the sheets off, bunching them into a pile.
"You should shower." He looks directly into my eyes. Smiles which is a good sign. I try to smile back but I think I'm drooling a little so I wipe my mouth instead. Ah fuck. That hand was either just in his anus or wrapped around his dick. I want to spit but think that would be uncouth. Ha. Ha. Ha.
"Yeah. You need help or?" I ask. Polite young man that I am.
"I'm good." So I shuffle into the bathroom. Off-white. Linoleum floors and ceramic tiles. I know where every chip is and where every stain came from. Originated from I mean.
I leave my shirt on as I step into the spray of cold water. It hits my face like a slap, if that's a cliché enough simile for you. I don't move for a few minutes, stare directly at the water spout, and then peel off my shirt. I start to feel a bit more sober and awake as I wring out my shirt and toss it into the sink. It's really not such a big deal. I tell myself. We were drunk. Horny. Kyle hasn't gotten laid in...who knows how long. I haven't gotten any since Wendy and I broke up. When was that? April? The thing is I don't normally care about sex too much. I like people, relationships, memories. Not randomly fucking. Randomly fucking Kyle. Fucking alcohol.
I rub body wash vigorously, too much, too fast. My fingernails scrape my skin a few times, leaving thin gashes. I don't feel pain. Just strung out. My hands are a little more gentle when I rinse away the suds, although I'm not sure why. Fuck my body. It is my enemy.
I didn't lock the door, out of habit, and Kyle slides in. He peeks around the shower curtain, changed into basketball shorts. Masculine. His eyes stay locked on my face. Well why would he look anywhere else? He's seen it all before. "You're still staying the night," he says, asks. It occurs to me to blurt out I'm not gay. I think that's rather irrelevant.
"Of course, Broflovski. Who do you think I am?" I half expect him to answer: faggot. He just grins. That signals everything's okay and now I'm doubly aware of my intoxication and just sleepy. Want to sleep. I'd planned on crashing on his bed, rubbing my smelly feet against his face. Not such a good plan now. But God, sleeping on the floor. Thanks for that, libido.
"Alright. Well I...started the laundry. I think I need to shower though." With me? No, of course not, fucking moron.
"I'm done," I say, shutting off the water. I wrap a towel around my waist and try not to cough. "Did I hurt you?" We're being decently mature. I figure it's okay to ask. I do care. As much as this sucks. It didn't suck. It felt so fucking good. Fuck Kyle for being so good at...laying there, I guess. Which sounds wrong.
"A bit," he says, always honest. "It's fine. Nothing tore, I suppose." Then stands there. It takes me a few seconds to understand he wants me to leave. Shy about undressing in front me. I almost laugh. I walk out of the room instead. A few seconds and then the sound of water. I steal the comforter after the newly made bed and settle down on the floor. It's only fair I get that when he gets the mattress. Even if it's not, fuck fair. Goddamn fair. Life isn't fair. Everyone will tell you that and you'll never believe it but now I do. If life was fair, I wouldn't have just buttfucked my BFFL. Not that we've ever called each other that. Sounds too faggy. The irony is amusing, I'm sure.
I fall asleep.
A/N: This is loosely based on table 5 from the 100_situations livejournal community. By loosely, I mean I'm picking and choosing those that work and making up some if I need them. I'm pretty sure this won't be 100 chapters. Also, as far as sex scenes, does it work? Should I avoid them in the future? I felt like this one was necessary but I also feel like it wasn't well-written because sup virgin and I don't want them if they weaken the story.