Standard content warning, don’t read if you’re underage. If you don’t like what you see in the title you probably won’t like the story, not everything’s for everyone after all. Going for a slow burn, maybe a bit of romance. This is my first story on LPSG so I’m very open to feedback. My one request is that posts in this thread be kept on-topic to the story.
Chapter 1 - 8 PM
I had never been so humiliated in my entire life. How could I have been so stupid? So foolish? Peeking at my arms, they were already pink from the strong cocktail of rage and shame that was washing my whole body right now. My ears were roaring with blood and my toes were curling up so tight my ankles were going numb. But my face? My face remained blank, as I was always intensely resilient in battle.
“You know, its bad table etiquette to take this long on your turn.”
“Shut the fuck up, ass,” I spat out.
“Woah, language!” Scott said with a giggle and a fake gasp, leaning back on his stool with a pearl-clutching pantomime. He was clearly proud of himself.
I tried to not let my rage break at the display of a hairy, barrel-chested thirtysomething doing his best Joan Crawford, only succeeding by laser-focusing on the game. Dammit, I thought to myself, I knew it was stupid to play this deck again. I’ve used it with him probably 20 times this year.
It really did seem like the deck was made specifically to defeat me. Instead of the usual blue lands, the cards in front of him were illustrated with small black skulls. I was having a lot of trouble penetrating his seemingly endless army of weak flying creatures ready to block my attacks, and he was slowly chipping away at my health. I should’ve added more flying creatures to my deck, which was definitely something that Scott had already noticed, which is leading to my bad situation at hand. After five more rounds, I finally realized that my deus ex machina was not in my deck, and breathed slowly as I relaxed and let my life counter dip to zero.
“Good game,” I said with a smile.
“GREAT game!” Scott was satisfied with the well-earned win, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t an exciting match. He was the clear winner, whether or not I could blame it on bad draws. “I’m liking how this deck is working out.” He was beaming wide, but he wasn’t gloating, he was genuinely excited about how the game unfolded. That’s the kind of guy that Scott is.
“Are you guys done?” I didn’t have to turn around to know that the voice behind me belonged to Drew, another hairy, barrel-chested thirtysomething. “I just finished my match.” He spoke quietly and with an aloof tone, but stood at the end cap of the table where we were wrapping up.
“Yep. Wade lost, but it was a great game.” Scott was packing away his cards into a small carton, eyeing my cards still laid out as he waited to roll up the mat they were placed on.
“You’ll get him next time, Wade,” Drew reassured me with a small pat on my back before leaning over and giving Scott a small kiss on the cheek.
“Awwww”, I let out in an affected tone, dripping with friendly sarcasm. I took my phone off the center of the table, the device opened to an app to track the health of two card players, finishing packing up my cards while the two bears looked at me with a smile.
“Let me be romantic!” pleaded Drew. I noticed that he was holding two purple arcade tickets, the currency that this comic shop used as prizes in matches to redeem for merchandise. He got further in the small tournament than myself or his husband, the two of us opting to do a side game to pass the time. He would never mention that out loud through. That’s the kind of guy Drew is.
“You all ready?” Scott asked the two of us, tucking his rolled-up mat into his bag. Everyone else had already left the back room of the store. Drew and I nodded. Scott stood up, pointing a hand at me while stretching his back, saying “let’s get you home.”
“No movie?” Drew asked in a surprised tone, referring to the movie nights at their house that usually followed the tourneys, and usually ended with me using their couch.
“School night for Wade,” Scott reminded Drew.
“7 AM classes are a bitch,” I offered. “As much as I’d like to skip, the class is a part of my degree.” I followed the two men, walking out of the shop after waving at the owner. We all climbed in Scott’s car and made our way to my small studio apartment under a night sky, talking mindlessly about what we’d watch at the next inevitable movie night.
It’s a weird arrangement we have. I mean, you don’t see a 20-year-old hanging out with 32- and 35-year-olds too often for any reason. But none of us in the car were exactly too normal.
We met in a similar way as the night played out, at a comic shop. You don’t see too many outwardly gay people at those small events, so I shored up my confidence and I connected with them instantly. Both were happy to meet another gay person into the game as well, and it turned out we had many more hobbies in common. They were just as kind and welcoming then as they are now. I normally have a pretty big difficulty connecting with people, never really going beyond a relationship of friendly acquaintances, certainly never visiting anyone else’s house. But something about them was really disarming me, and when I wanted to spend time with them, they always found time to include me and something we could all do together. Movies (at home or in a theater), games (video or card), hikes, swimming at the Y, you name it. I never forgot how lucky I was to have two people who were basically dads (though none of us would ever use that word) to me.
“What about Westworld?”
“The 80’s movie or the HBO show?”
“Movie.”
“Seen it.”
“How about the sequel?”
“Sequel?”
“Futureworld. Pretty much nobody from the original worked on it and it bombed critically.”
“Why would you watch that?”
“Robots, Wade. Robots.”
Our conversation continued like regular before pulling up to the old, slightly run-down complex I lived in. Scott parked and killed the engine, the three of us unbuckling stepping out of the car in near unison. It wasn’t a particularly bad part of town, I can walk myself to my own place, but this was a different kind of ritual. We collected at the rear of Scott’s car.
Under the light of a nearby streetlight, I got a good look at my two favorite people. I was somewhere at 6 feet tall or a little shorter, generally on the taller side of people in the room, but they always made me feel younger. Each of them stood somewhere at 6’2” or 6’3”, tall enough that a hug had me tucking into their shoulders with my eyes peeking over their back. Each of their general demeanors reflecting their personalities. Scott stands up straight with a near-permanent wide smile in his medium-sized beard, his clothes generally making him look like a fun high school teacher. He has some love handles on him but is a little more muscle than fat, probably from his time in the military that he’ll bring up if you mention anything related to the armed forces. A light but solid dusting of stiff body hair is on pretty much all of his body. Drew has a more sheepish nature, definitely more of an introvert with a scruffy face, dressed in typical khaki shorts with a blue top, a flannel tonight. He was more fat than muscle, not quite a ball gut and not quite a saggy stomach, and very hairy with thick thatches of soft hair on his whole body. They were different in a lot of ways, but just by looking at how they carried themselves around each other, you could tell that they loved each other deeply.
Both of them stretched their arms out, as did I, and closed into a tight three-way hug. I closed my eyes. We held this position for a bit, feeling each other’s heat and squeezing tighter, digging into each other’s backs. Everything else faded briefly, just the three of us sharing a moment, fingers eventually lightly and lovingly caressing the back of the other two through cozy outerwear. Our legs tucked together, hearing and feeling heartbeats and breaths slow.
After a few more deep breaths, Scott gave out a “stay safe.”
With a slight pat on my back, Drew contributed a “make good choices.”
We withdrew from each other, I opened my eyes with a smile and, as warmly and genuinely as I could, I said “see you soon.”
I turned and walked to my complex, the engine to Scott’s car starting after a bit. I heard Scott shout “BYE FRIEND!”.
I walked up the two flights of stairs and unlocked my studio apartment, heading to my restroom after dropping my bag on the floor and throwing my phone on my mattress. I turned on the shower to a warm, but not hot, temperature before slipping off my shirt and pants. I took a breath and slipped off my cheap boxer-briefs from 4 years ago.
Fuck.
The front had a huge wet spot, soaked from the inside to the outside, but my pants were thankfully spared. My dick was still sprung at intense attention from the close embrace and strong affection. It was almost painful, a bright angry red and covered in a slick layer of the same substance that soaked my underwear. I pushed a finger of my shaking hand lightly down the underside of my dick, from the base to the tip, pushing out more sticky fluid.
Fuck.
My hand wrapped around my dick. It wasn’t anything special, 5” and some change, but thicker than the charts that I’ve read, though nothing like the insane paper towel rolls I’ve seen on the internet. I instantly shuddered with pleasure and excitement when I made full contact, already inches away from the point of no return. I just closed my eyes and thought about the arms touching me and the bodies pressed into mine.
Fuck.
I moaned, the roar of the showerhead covering the loud outburst from my neighbor’s ears as I had intended.
Fuck.
I exploded with 5 big shots into the floor of the shower, moaning probably more than the water was able to conceal, panting a bit in recovery before actually stepping in and washing up.
Friend.
Fuck.
To Be Continued
Chapter 1 - 8 PM
I had never been so humiliated in my entire life. How could I have been so stupid? So foolish? Peeking at my arms, they were already pink from the strong cocktail of rage and shame that was washing my whole body right now. My ears were roaring with blood and my toes were curling up so tight my ankles were going numb. But my face? My face remained blank, as I was always intensely resilient in battle.
“You know, its bad table etiquette to take this long on your turn.”
“Shut the fuck up, ass,” I spat out.
“Woah, language!” Scott said with a giggle and a fake gasp, leaning back on his stool with a pearl-clutching pantomime. He was clearly proud of himself.
I tried to not let my rage break at the display of a hairy, barrel-chested thirtysomething doing his best Joan Crawford, only succeeding by laser-focusing on the game. Dammit, I thought to myself, I knew it was stupid to play this deck again. I’ve used it with him probably 20 times this year.
It really did seem like the deck was made specifically to defeat me. Instead of the usual blue lands, the cards in front of him were illustrated with small black skulls. I was having a lot of trouble penetrating his seemingly endless army of weak flying creatures ready to block my attacks, and he was slowly chipping away at my health. I should’ve added more flying creatures to my deck, which was definitely something that Scott had already noticed, which is leading to my bad situation at hand. After five more rounds, I finally realized that my deus ex machina was not in my deck, and breathed slowly as I relaxed and let my life counter dip to zero.
“Good game,” I said with a smile.
“GREAT game!” Scott was satisfied with the well-earned win, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t an exciting match. He was the clear winner, whether or not I could blame it on bad draws. “I’m liking how this deck is working out.” He was beaming wide, but he wasn’t gloating, he was genuinely excited about how the game unfolded. That’s the kind of guy that Scott is.
“Are you guys done?” I didn’t have to turn around to know that the voice behind me belonged to Drew, another hairy, barrel-chested thirtysomething. “I just finished my match.” He spoke quietly and with an aloof tone, but stood at the end cap of the table where we were wrapping up.
“Yep. Wade lost, but it was a great game.” Scott was packing away his cards into a small carton, eyeing my cards still laid out as he waited to roll up the mat they were placed on.
“You’ll get him next time, Wade,” Drew reassured me with a small pat on my back before leaning over and giving Scott a small kiss on the cheek.
“Awwww”, I let out in an affected tone, dripping with friendly sarcasm. I took my phone off the center of the table, the device opened to an app to track the health of two card players, finishing packing up my cards while the two bears looked at me with a smile.
“Let me be romantic!” pleaded Drew. I noticed that he was holding two purple arcade tickets, the currency that this comic shop used as prizes in matches to redeem for merchandise. He got further in the small tournament than myself or his husband, the two of us opting to do a side game to pass the time. He would never mention that out loud through. That’s the kind of guy Drew is.
“You all ready?” Scott asked the two of us, tucking his rolled-up mat into his bag. Everyone else had already left the back room of the store. Drew and I nodded. Scott stood up, pointing a hand at me while stretching his back, saying “let’s get you home.”
“No movie?” Drew asked in a surprised tone, referring to the movie nights at their house that usually followed the tourneys, and usually ended with me using their couch.
“School night for Wade,” Scott reminded Drew.
“7 AM classes are a bitch,” I offered. “As much as I’d like to skip, the class is a part of my degree.” I followed the two men, walking out of the shop after waving at the owner. We all climbed in Scott’s car and made our way to my small studio apartment under a night sky, talking mindlessly about what we’d watch at the next inevitable movie night.
It’s a weird arrangement we have. I mean, you don’t see a 20-year-old hanging out with 32- and 35-year-olds too often for any reason. But none of us in the car were exactly too normal.
We met in a similar way as the night played out, at a comic shop. You don’t see too many outwardly gay people at those small events, so I shored up my confidence and I connected with them instantly. Both were happy to meet another gay person into the game as well, and it turned out we had many more hobbies in common. They were just as kind and welcoming then as they are now. I normally have a pretty big difficulty connecting with people, never really going beyond a relationship of friendly acquaintances, certainly never visiting anyone else’s house. But something about them was really disarming me, and when I wanted to spend time with them, they always found time to include me and something we could all do together. Movies (at home or in a theater), games (video or card), hikes, swimming at the Y, you name it. I never forgot how lucky I was to have two people who were basically dads (though none of us would ever use that word) to me.
“What about Westworld?”
“The 80’s movie or the HBO show?”
“Movie.”
“Seen it.”
“How about the sequel?”
“Sequel?”
“Futureworld. Pretty much nobody from the original worked on it and it bombed critically.”
“Why would you watch that?”
“Robots, Wade. Robots.”
Our conversation continued like regular before pulling up to the old, slightly run-down complex I lived in. Scott parked and killed the engine, the three of us unbuckling stepping out of the car in near unison. It wasn’t a particularly bad part of town, I can walk myself to my own place, but this was a different kind of ritual. We collected at the rear of Scott’s car.
Under the light of a nearby streetlight, I got a good look at my two favorite people. I was somewhere at 6 feet tall or a little shorter, generally on the taller side of people in the room, but they always made me feel younger. Each of them stood somewhere at 6’2” or 6’3”, tall enough that a hug had me tucking into their shoulders with my eyes peeking over their back. Each of their general demeanors reflecting their personalities. Scott stands up straight with a near-permanent wide smile in his medium-sized beard, his clothes generally making him look like a fun high school teacher. He has some love handles on him but is a little more muscle than fat, probably from his time in the military that he’ll bring up if you mention anything related to the armed forces. A light but solid dusting of stiff body hair is on pretty much all of his body. Drew has a more sheepish nature, definitely more of an introvert with a scruffy face, dressed in typical khaki shorts with a blue top, a flannel tonight. He was more fat than muscle, not quite a ball gut and not quite a saggy stomach, and very hairy with thick thatches of soft hair on his whole body. They were different in a lot of ways, but just by looking at how they carried themselves around each other, you could tell that they loved each other deeply.
Both of them stretched their arms out, as did I, and closed into a tight three-way hug. I closed my eyes. We held this position for a bit, feeling each other’s heat and squeezing tighter, digging into each other’s backs. Everything else faded briefly, just the three of us sharing a moment, fingers eventually lightly and lovingly caressing the back of the other two through cozy outerwear. Our legs tucked together, hearing and feeling heartbeats and breaths slow.
After a few more deep breaths, Scott gave out a “stay safe.”
With a slight pat on my back, Drew contributed a “make good choices.”
We withdrew from each other, I opened my eyes with a smile and, as warmly and genuinely as I could, I said “see you soon.”
I turned and walked to my complex, the engine to Scott’s car starting after a bit. I heard Scott shout “BYE FRIEND!”.
I walked up the two flights of stairs and unlocked my studio apartment, heading to my restroom after dropping my bag on the floor and throwing my phone on my mattress. I turned on the shower to a warm, but not hot, temperature before slipping off my shirt and pants. I took a breath and slipped off my cheap boxer-briefs from 4 years ago.
Fuck.
The front had a huge wet spot, soaked from the inside to the outside, but my pants were thankfully spared. My dick was still sprung at intense attention from the close embrace and strong affection. It was almost painful, a bright angry red and covered in a slick layer of the same substance that soaked my underwear. I pushed a finger of my shaking hand lightly down the underside of my dick, from the base to the tip, pushing out more sticky fluid.
Fuck.
My hand wrapped around my dick. It wasn’t anything special, 5” and some change, but thicker than the charts that I’ve read, though nothing like the insane paper towel rolls I’ve seen on the internet. I instantly shuddered with pleasure and excitement when I made full contact, already inches away from the point of no return. I just closed my eyes and thought about the arms touching me and the bodies pressed into mine.
Fuck.
I moaned, the roar of the showerhead covering the loud outburst from my neighbor’s ears as I had intended.
Fuck.
I exploded with 5 big shots into the floor of the shower, moaning probably more than the water was able to conceal, panting a bit in recovery before actually stepping in and washing up.
Friend.
Fuck.
To Be Continued
