Broken String

LVI (Italic part NSFW)

It seems to go without words, by now. Once Eddy is in bed Brett goes away for a few minutes to do his thing, just like he's done for the last few nights, then comes in and turns off the light, slipping into bed beside him. He's not even had to ask him at all, and Eddy will be eternally grateful for that.
Does Brett know that he will be forever in his debt? Does he understand that Eddy would be right back where he was that time in the lift, the second Brett would decide to sleep in his own bed?
Neither of them seem to be in the mood for talking tonight, they just lie there in silence and stare at the ceiling for a while as sleepiness creeps into the room and starts to gently surround them. The sheets are lovely and cool, and smooth. And clean. Eddy sighs contentedly as he turns on his left side and closes his eyes.

The party is loud, but he's having a good time anyway. He's on his fifth beer and he's talking to a girl from the con whose name he's forgotten. She's very pretty, actually. Quite curvy, with full, lush breasts and long, thick brown hair that falls in artful curls over her shoulders. He can't help himself as he sits on their roof terrace under the fairy lights, he imagines them bouncing up and down on top of him, imagines cupping them with his hand, imagines sucking the nipple until she moans. He grows quickly into his black jeans until his dick strains against the zipper.
Which is fine, really. Who's going to see? It's actually nice, sitting here all horny like this in the dark when nobody knows, the alcohol a cloud through his senses, mingling with the night.
They probably do see when she leans forward and kisses him, though. No preamble, there's nothing gentle or ambiguous about this kiss because her tongue is in his mouth already, hot and insistent. Now she does moan, and she sits down on his lap and doubles down. She grinds down on his erection as her tongue toys with his, he feels her smile against his lips. God, this is good, and it's been way too long since he's come so he can feel an orgasm building already, just from their kissing and her grinding.
"Can we get out of here?" she breathes. He nods eagerly and points to their apartment.

His room looks the same way it always does as he gets up out of the chair he's been in and lies down on the bed, lifting up the quilt, holding out his hands for her. But before she does suddenly the scene morphs and she's gone. Wait, where has she gone? And who is that? Someone is in the room with him, slipping into bed beside him, a head is going under the quilt but he has no idea whose head it is. Strong, supple fingers are at his Gucci belt and he can't help himself, he moans loudly. His dick feels like it could explode at any moment. Long, lush fingers open his fly and before he knows it his erection springs free, a soft mouth is closing around him and starts moving up and down.
"Oh, God!" he calls out as the mouth goes quicker, and quicker, allowing him deep inside it, and he's screaming as a huge orgasm overtakes him, his warmth pouring into the soft mouth in wave after wave of delicious pulsing.

"Eddy. Um."
His eyes fly open in shock. Wait. What? His whole body is still glowing, tingling in the aftershocks of the gorgeous orgasm he just had. But what?
Oh, fuck. Oh, no.
Brett is beside him in the bed, eyeing him soberly. Oh, God, you've got to be kidding me, he's gone and had a fucking wet dream, like he's fucking fourteen years old. Everything is sticky, his boxers are soaked. And he knows that Brett knows. Of course he knows, he's probably moaned out loud. Why else would he even be awake? And he'll need help, too, so once again there's no place to run to.
"Oh God." he whispers, and just then Brett chuckles lightly.
"Nice dream?"
"Don't start."
Oh, he could die with the embarrassment of it. And suddenly he needs to explain. There's no other way.
"Um. I can't... you know. Do. Um. Anything. At the moment. That's why."
The remnants of Brett's chuckle die instantly.
"Can't what? Wank, you mean?"
Eddy shakes his head.
"I tried a while back. It was too fucking sore."
"Oh, mate!"
Eddy nods. "Yep. That about sums it up."
"Okay, so you want some clean boxers?" Brett says then as if he asks this every day. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up.
"Um. Yeah. Thanks." Eddy says as he cringes hard. "And some tissues, please."
"Of course. Coming right up."