Arabian Nights Ch. 01

Zane snorts as my mouth hangs open. "That was rude!" I say before laughing.

"You know I love you," Baba says with a bright smile, reaching up to pat my cheek. "You coming back tonight to help me, yes?" he asks.

"Not after that comment," I say with a slight grin before nodding. "Of course I am." I promised I'd help him move some old junk out of the basement. One of his friends is letting him borrow his truck, so we're going to pack it up tonight and haul everything off to the dump in the morning. It was my suggestion to do it overnight, so I could sleep over and spend a little more time with him - a sentiment he greatly appreciated.

"You're a good boy," he says with a smile. "Now get the table ready. Breakfast is almost done."

~ ~ ~

Breakfast is always a short ordeal. It's nothing more than an excuse to get the three (or more) of us together. It's always nice to enjoy their contrasting companies simultaneously - Baba with his worldly, airy qualities, and Zane with his strong, quiet, comforting aura. The two most important men in my life. Ah, if only Rashida were my real mother and Baba were straight. Then we could be a solid unit. I'd be happy with that.

After scarfing down our delicious French toast and topping the morning off with a quick cup of tea, Zane and I head back to our apartment. Since it's a Saturday, we both have the day off from work. I don't have to play nurse today, and Zane doesn't have to punch in at his insurance gig. I think he's an "insurance underwriter slash investigator," but because finance is not my specialty, his explanation always goes over my head. He seems to like his job, though, and the challenges that come with it. As do I. Being a registered nurse is a hell of a lot of fun, but it can be exhausting, so both of us always look forward to any time off. We decide to spend our afternoon completely lounging around, going through some of our favorite classics - the "Alien" franchise.

Through most of the second movie, though, I'm texting Kim - a fellow nurse who I've been heavily flirting with the past few days. And she packs it on heavily over text. The exchange is pretty innocent throughout, but it's peppered with suggestive text messages and sly remarks about sex without saying the actual three-letter-word. I chuckle when she sends me a picture of a random person who has a magic lamp tattoo, with the caption "This is you." All I did was tell her about how much I love the movie "Aladdin."

I turn to Zane. "Would you judge me if I got this tattoo?" I ask, pointing my phone towards him and showing him the photo Kim sent me.

He chews on his popcorn slowly as he turns his head towards the screen. Then he laughs. "God, you're so corny, Khalid."

I chuckle. "It'd be cute, right?"

"Long as it's on your ass cheek," he says.

"Left or right?"

"Left," he says decidedly. "Your left side is better than your right."

I snicker, shaking my head. For a brief moment, I wonder if that's actually true, but I just shrug it off. "Left it is, then." Then Zane starts singing Aladdin's "Arabian Nights" softly. I laugh, nudging him with my knee. "Can you stop?"

"Why do you hate my singing so much?" he asks with a grin.

"I actually like your singing," I say seriously.

"Hm." He just smiles, tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth.

"Write a song and I'll tattoo the lyrics on my other ass cheek, just for you."

He snorts, almost choking on his popcorn. "I hate you sometimes," he says, laughing. Then he looks at me. "You don't actually want that magic lamp tattoo, do you?"

"No," I say, laughing. It would look so fucking dumb. "Kim thought I should get it though."

He rolls his eyes. "Sounds just like you to get a tattoo for a chick," he says, grinning at the television screen as he pops a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth.

My mouth opens in surprise. "Fuck you, dude," I say, half-laughing, but just then, Kim sends me a surprise text: her in particularly sexy lingerie, saying that I can call her Princess Jasmine. I gulp a bit, staring at the picture, my cock twitching in my shorts.

"I just tell it like it is, bro," he says, still focused on the TV.

"Whatever," I say. Kim hits me with another quick text, saying it's my turn to show her something. I lick my lips a bit. "Uh... I'll be right back," I add, hopping off the couch quickly.

"Where you going?" he asks. "There are like five minutes left!"

"Just a quick phone call," I say before heading out of the living room.

"Want me to pause it?" he shouts.

"No, it's okay!" I say, already in the hallway. I think about heading to my bedroom, but the bathroom has much better lighting, so I quietly slip into the bathroom and shut the door. I'm already chubbing up quite a bit when I glance at her photo again. Red red red. I'm a sucker for red, so the scarlet, lacey, nearly-sheer bra and panty she's wearing is almost making me sweat. She looks fucking sexy, and even positioned herself in front of the camera to show off her curves and breasts in a subtle but alluring way. This is a killer photo. Worthy of the likes of Playboy, or something. I bite my lip as I slip my hand into my basketball shorts, right inside my briefs, and wrap my fingers around my cock. I squeeze it tight and start stroking, bringing it to hardness pretty quickly considering the quality of the photo. She said that it's my turn to show her "something" - and that something can only mean one thing. I tug my shorts down slightly and let my cock swing out - one that I'm pretty proud of. I'm like any other guy who says they'd love to be a little bit bigger, but all in all, I'm satisfied with what I've got between my legs: a thick seven inches, dark and cut, shapely and completely straight. He's a handsome fellow, jutting out over a smooth set of balls. I never fully shave my pubes, but I always keep my balls smooth. They just feel better that way. And girls tend to appreciate it, I've noticed.

I bring my phone camera above my cock and hold it in my palm for proportion. Then: click. However, I don't hear Zane humming a little tune until the bathroom door swings open. I swear as I hurry and hide my hard-on, but Zane just stands in the doorway, confused by the sight of me for a moment. Then, he puts two and two together, seeing that my phone is in one hand and that I'm attempting to hide my dick in the other. Immediately, he starts laughing. "Seriously?"

"Can you fuck off?" I ask, tugging the waistband of my shorts back over my crotch. The back of my waistband gets caught under my ass, and I have to reach back to pull them up. "And don't you knock?"

"I thought you were in your room," he says, "and I had to piss."

"Sorry," I say, moving to get around him.

But he stops me. "Wait wait wait," he says, eyeing me up and down again. "Do you really still take dick pics like that?"

I squint. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just... You embarrass me, is all," he teases, trying not to laugh again.

"I fucking hate you," I say after a moment, laughing slightly as I hide my face. I'm definitely embarrassed, but not mortified. We can be casual about this. Hell, it's not the first time either of us have caught each other in an aroused state. But it's definitely the first time a camera has been involved.

"At least tell me you take proper nudes," he says, and his eyes flicker to my hand. Before I can react, he reaches down and snatches my phone from me.

"Hey!" I say, but he's bulkier than I am and easily holds me back as he studies the photo.

He starts tsking. "This is horrible, bro."

"Can you not make fun of my dick?" I say, trying not to get irritated. Now it just feels like he's being an ass, attacking my manhood.

"I'm not making fun of your dick," he says, handing my phone back to me. "You actually have a pretty nice dick."

I roll my eyes, pocketing my phone. "Fuck off."

"I'm serious," he says, laughing. "You just don't know how to show it off right."

"What, and you're the expert?" I ask skeptically.

He just shrugs, but in an affirmative way. "I mean, it's basic sexting. Like... Don't you hate nudes that are just straight pussy pics?"

I fail to see his point here. "No."

He gawps at me for a moment as if I'm crazy before he just rolls his eyes. "You're hopeless."

I laugh. "It's not fucking art, man. It's just sexting."

"It's just so..." He moves his hands around, trying to find the right word.

"What?"

"Silly?" he says, wondering if that's a sufficient description. "Primitive? I mean, where's the fun in being clinical about it?"

Primitive? Clinical? Is he serious? "I'm just giving her what she asked for."

He scoffs. "I promise you no one likes straight-up dick pics. Maybe once, just to see what you're working with," he says with a grin, "but sexting is more about teasing than anything else."

I furrow my brows. "Teasing?"

"Yeah, like... Here, gimme your phone," he says, holding out his palm. Reluctantly, I pass him my iPhone, and when he opens up the camera, he steps into the bathroom more, positioning himself in front of the mirror. Then, he hooks his thumb into the front of his shorts, tugging down just enough to show the base of his cock and not much else. He adjusts the angle of the phone for a moment before snapping a picture, checking it out, and then giving me a satisfied smile. "Voila," he says, handing me my phone.

I look at the picture and immediately realize he was right. Now I know what he means by "clinical." There's something undeniably sexy about a tease - just a little taste of something that makes you wonder what the rest is like. Guess that's why Kim always sends me pictures of herself in lingerie. "Alright, that's pretty good," I admit with a laugh.

"Told you," he says, patting my back. "Now go practice elsewhere, I'm about to fuckin' burst."

I smirk a bit, leaving the bathroom to let him do his business. I head into my room fully-prepared to take his advice. I have to think "tempting" rather than "revealing," teases rather than full-blown nudes. And I get where Zane is coming from, in retrospect. Once I've seen everything a girl has to offer, the whole courting situation seems kind of boring, like the conquest has been completed already. I hop onto my bed and try angling the camera above me, just lightly lifting my shirt to show of a hint of my core and then pulling a Zane: tugging my shorts down just enough to show a hint of the base of my cock. I send the image to Kim and immediately I can tell I made the right decision not to hit her with a cock-shot. Now I've got her roped in.

Zane knocks on my door twenty minutes later before poking his head in. "Yo."

I grin. "You knocked this time. I'm so proud."

"Fuck off," he says, standing in the doorway. "I'm gonna go out for a bit."

"Hot date?" I ask with a grin.

He shrugs. "Something like that."

"Okay," I say with a laugh, checking the time. "I might head to Baba's soon anyway."

"Oh yeah!" he says, looking like he only just remembered. "Aren't you sleeping there or something?"

"Yezzir," I say stupidly.

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna shower. Give Baba G a kiss for me."

"I will. Have fun tonight," I say in a teasing, girlish voice. Zane just turns around, flipping me off as he walks away from the door, leaving me laughing.

~ ~ ~

It doesn't take my father and me long to fill up the back of the truck, even with the heavier furniture. In fact, Baba says we're "way ahead of schedule," and once we finish, we find that we have tons of time on our hands. The first thing we do is sit down, have a cup of tea, and talk for at least an hour. He's been very interested in my romantic life ever since I graduated college. I think he believes it's about time for me to start thinking about settling down, maybe starting a family - mostly for selfish reasons. He wants grandkids. I keep telling him that the closest he'll get to having grandkids is waiting for Zane to settle down. Zane is much more of a romantic than I am, and would be way more willing to settle down sooner. I'm just not at that point in my life right now. I still just want to explore. Fuck around. On some level, Baba understands that, but I know he just wants me to grow up already. "Nearly twenty-five-years-old and you still act like you're seventeen," he says, shaking his head and tsking me.

"I'm just having fun, Baba," I say, amused.

"You can't have fun forever," he says, giving me a stern look.

"Or I could just be a perpetual bachelor like you."

His face softens for a moment before he sighs. "No, love," he says. "I don't want that for you." I'm surprised by the shift in his tone. "It's not a fulfilling life, living like this," he says with a sad smile.

That breaks my heart to see a glimpse of his struggle. I know Baba has had a fair few boyfriends over the years, but I never knew how the instability affected him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes," he says, trying to wave it off. "I just want better for my son."

Part of me wants to continue this conversation, to get into my father's head a little more, but he switches the subject towards another scrapbook he's been working on. Baba is incredibly crafty, there's no doubt about that. He's halfway through working on this beautiful book chock full of photos of me, Baba, and Zane's family when Zane and I were young. Baby pictures, birthdays, candids. It's a treat to slowly going through each page, laugh at the more humorous pictures, and listen to stories I've heard a thousand times before but never tire of. When we get towards the end, Baba sighs. He was hoping to find more pictures in the basement when he cleaned it out, but I remind him that I have a lot of them tucked away in a dresser in my room. His face brightens up, and after I ask if he wants me to bring them by next time, he asks if I can get them now.

I protest a bit, just because I don't want to drive back and forth at this hour, but he's insistent, brightening up at the prospect of continuing this scrapbook. I sigh and give in, only because of how joyful he seems. After his comment about being single, all I'm thinking about is how I can make Baba happier. So I take just my keys, wallet, and phone and make the twenty minute drive back to my apartment. I know exactly where the photos are, all tied together with a large rubber band. I actually looked through them a few weeks ago with Zane. We were tipsy and reminiscing about the past, when careers weren't sucking up all our daylight and we had much more energy and imagination and drive to take on the world. Simpler times, I suppose.

I see that Zane's car is still here when I arrive, so maybe he got back from his date - or he walked and is still out. I smirk to myself a bit, wondering if and when Zane will dish out any details about his love affairs. So far I'm completely in the dark. I don't even really know his type, though I can only picture him with someone extremely sexy. A slim girl, most likely, to contrast his figure. But she'd be tall, like him. Long, radiant hair. Maybe even older. I could see him with a hot older lady. Maybe that's his secret - he has a thing for older women. Suddenly, my mind is fixed on that idea, and I laugh as I head up to our apartment, find the door unlocked, and let myself in.

But that's not his secret. Not at all. I completely freeze in place, my jaw dropping as I stand in the doorway, staring into the living room, at the two people on the couch - particularly, the position they're in and the lack of clothing they have on. My heart starts racing once Zane looks up at the disturbance, his eyes shifting from lustful to shocked. "Shit!" he hisses, reaching back and pushing the guy who's been fucking him from behind away. The mystery man takes notice of me once Zane starts freaking out, and he quickly grabs a random article of clothing to cover his crotch.

"What the fuck?" I ask, totally bewildered.

"I thought you were gonna be at your father's!" Zane says, looking panicked.

"I thought you were with a girl!" I fire back.

"I never said that."

"I-" Fuck, he's right. He never did say specifically that he was going to be with a girl. I assumed. I... Shit, am I terrible for assuming? Am I Seth in this situation? Am I the blind one, totally oblivious to the fact that my best friend never introduced me to any of his girlfriends because they weren't girls? Maybe I'm just assuming again... There's probably a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why my best friend was getting railed on our living room couch by some dude I've never met.

Zane slumps onto the sofa, sighing heavily and rubbing his face. His friend speaks up after a tense moment of silence. "Uh... Should I go?" he asks Zane.

Zane just sighs and nods. "Maybe," he mumbles.

The guy gets himself dressed, half-putting on his jeans and then sliding his shirt over his head as he slips on his sneakers. "I'll call you," he says quietly, seeming to debate whether or not he wants to lean in and kiss Zane. But he thinks better of it and, when Zane just keeps rubbing his forehead with his fingertips, he takes his leave. That's when I realize I've been frozen in place this whole time, hand still tight around the doorknob. I shift out of the way as the guy gets closer and comes into the light a little more. At first, I think he's intimidating. He's taller than I am, and equipped with two little face tattoos, light eyes, and a tough expression. But we don't say anything to each other. He just gives me an awkward smile before slipping by me and heading out the door.

I look over at Zane, who's just sitting naked on the couch, probably mortified. I take a deep breath, shutting the door. "You didn't have to kick him out," I say.

"Shut up, Khalid."

I wince at the tone in his voice - not harsh, but slightly broken. He's probably so embarrassed, so I know I should tread lightly. I come over to the couch and slowly sit down next to him, looking at my lap. Neither of us say anything for a long while. I don't know what *to* say. Do I comfort him? Tell him it's alright that he's... whatever he is? I don't know his story.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out," he says after a while.

I just nod. I don't know how to respond to that, but I wish I didn't find out this way either. But, then again, what exactly am I finding out? Am I right in assuming that he's gay?

"Say it," he says when I don't respond.

I blink, turning my head towards him. "What?"

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"How shocked you are, and how crazy this is, and how you never would have guessed, and blah blah blah." He sounds a little bitter.

I swallow thickly. Something tells me I shouldn't say all those things, even though that's the truth to how I'm feeling. "I'm surprised, yeah," I admit. "But... I don't know anything."

He sighs heavily, still not looking at me. Then he pulls a pillow over his lap to cover himself, hugging it before saying "Sorry."

I'm not sure if he's apologizing for the nudity or the tone in his voice, but I just say "It's okay" before biting my lip a bit. I have to ask. I can't resist. "Are you gay?"

Zane glances at me for a split-second before inhaling shakily. "Yeah," he says.

So I was right to assume. He's fucking gay. How did I not notice this before? How has he kept this a secret from me? "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, sounding a little more accusatory than intended.

"It's not about you, man," he says in a tired voice, slouching a little more.

He's right. It's not about me at all. This is about him and his identity. "Sorry," I say, shaking my head in order to refresh my perspective.

"I didn't mean to..."

"Neither did I..."

"I just-"

"Yeah."

I don't know exactly what we're saying, but there's a pause for a few moments. Then he looks in my direction, but doesn't meet my eye. "I don't know why I didn't tell you. I wanted to so many times, but... I was fucking embarrassed. And scared."