Best Kept Secrets Ch. 02

Gary braced his palms against the grimy wall, his forehead resting on the back of his knuckles as he sucked in a lungful of air. His hips were twitching with the pleasure that ran through him, gifted to him by the selfless man on the other side of the glory hole.

It'd been a solid month since he started showing up to pretend that he was getting his dick sucked by his best friend, all because he was too chicken to come clean. What would Michael think if he saw him, putting his health and sanity on the line all for the sake of a fantasy?

The sad thing, he knew that Michael held a flame for him. It was fairly obvious to anyone with a pulse, especially recently. Ever since he started regularly showing up at the glory hole, Michael started to get less and less discreet with the way he interacted and looked at him. He'd caught Michael either outright staring or skittishly looking away. On one memorable occasion at the bar, Michael had none too slyly brushed up against him, his voice pitched lower to ask if he wanted to share nachos with him at the food truck. Gary couldn't figure out what the heck happened. It wasn't like Michael knew what he was up to. Nobody did.

Gary took and held a breath then blew it out slowly. Of course Michael didn't know. Not unless it was actually him on the other side of the wall, but that would be ridiculously cheesy. Life wasn't a sitcom with laugh-tracks and happy endings, no matter how much they wished it to be.

His breath caught, Gary used his hand to carefully ease his limp, spit-slicked cock from the hole. He couldn't resist smelling his fingers, catching a faint whiff of spearmint gum. On the other side, he could hear his confidant shift about to get comfortable for one of Gary's 'pillow talks'. It was funny, the routine they had-- well, bizarre, more like. But Gary couldn't find much to complain about. It helped him come back down to earth, helped him come to grips with his feelings. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what the guy thought of him. Lovesick, for sure. A loser. Hopeless.

No use in agonizing over it. The system they had was fine. He guessed.

"So, we're having a gathering tonight," he started after yanking up his jeans. "Nothing special, just a bonfire. Few beers. Michael will be there. Still working up the nerve to say something to him... but now I'm starting to think I never will. This is so much easier. Sometimes I wish you were him, for real, so that that way everything would be all out in the open without me having to stumble through a speech."

Gary paused, allowing the other man to let out a soft sigh. Was he boring him? Probably. It all sounded like dumb teenage drama even though they were in their late twenties. He wondered why the guy didn't just up and leave; if it had been him, he definitely would have skipped out.

"Who knows. Maybe tonight I'll get drunk and blurt it out in front of everyone. Well anyway, the party starts in like two hours so I'll be going."

He looked down expectantly, and was pleased to find those small fingers peeking through for a goodbye wave. Gary touched them, a familiar warm thrill going through him at the brief contact. He lingered, holding on to them for far longer than he normally did. He considered the other guy as a friend, though sometimes he wished they could be more. That way he could forget his crush on Michael, maintain a pure friendship with him, and be with someone he was sexually compatible with. He wet his lips, thinking... should he go for it?

"Hey, uh... I've been wondering something. Even though you don't talk to me, I really enjoy our time together. I feel like it'd be fun to pursue something a little more. What I'm trying to get at is, um, would you... would you consider meeting me for sex?"

Gary swore he heard him let out a whimper; he immediately felt bad.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," he blurted, clenching the fingers in his tightly, "I just thought it could be fun. I like you. Maybe it's stupid because I don't know your name or what you look like, but, if this thing with Mikey doesn't work out, I'd like to get to know you better, and I... fuck it. Forget I said anything. I'll be going. Sorry."

Embarrassed, Gary stood up to his full height and hurriedly took his leave. As much as he wanted to wait around and catch the man leave, he figured he'd done enough damage.

When he arrived at the party some hours later, Gary didn't feel any less like shit. All he could think about was his confidant's reaction and what it meant. The guy's only job was to give him blow jobs, not be blathered at and asked for sex outside of the room. What had he been thinking?

Nothing, that was what.

Now he couldn't help but feel that he had ruined everything between them. What if he wasn't there next week? Or the week after that? Then what was he supposed to do? It was almost getting to the point where he needed their interactions to function. Why couldn't he just keep his big stupid mouth shut? Of course the guy didn't feel the same way towards him. Why should he? Dozens of dudes came and knocked on his wall, so why would Gary be anything special?

"You okay?"

Gary snapped out of his thoughts. He realized belatedly that someone had a hand on his shoulder, and that that something was Michael. He blushed, both at his jumpy behavior and that Michael was not only touching him but giving him a look of concern.

Michael was what most people considered the nice boy next door, as innocent as a blooming flower and with a face to match. He stood a few inches shorter than Gary's 6'1 stature, blessed with dark auburn hair that fell in beautiful ringlets down to his chin and halfway obscured his hazel eyes. The crackling fire in front of them put his high cheekbones and round chin in stark relief, making him look a tad older, the expression on his face helping mature him in that regard. Gary could stare at him for hours.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Sure?" Michael cocked his head, giving him a more scrutinizing look. "You looked a little upset."

Gary hesitated. He hadn't meant for anyone to notice, especially since quite a few of their friends were also standing around with a can or bottle of beer in their hands, morosely staring into the flames like it held life's greatest secrets. But, he supposed that that was what twenty odd years of friendship was like. Secrets were never secrets forever, and no matter how hard you tried to put on a nonchalant or happy face, that person closest to you was likely to notice. It was both a blessing and a curse.

"I have some things I'm trying to work through. That's all."

"Oh," Michael let out breathily. He looked away. "You know I'm always willing to lend an ear. If there's anything I can do to help..."

Gary could easily think up a million ways for Michael to help. He took a sip of his beer and used the opportunity to discreetly check out Michael's lips, pale pink and parted to allow his breath to cloud before him. It was only early October and already the weather was very cold. He halfway wished Michael hadn't worn a jacket so that he could have an excuse to hold him close; instead he had to make due with what he had.

"A hug would be nice."

Michael smiled and opened his arms, stepping right up. Gary set his can down by their feet and wrapped Michael securely in his arms, the contact instantly calming him down. By all means, Michael wasn't the scrawniest guy, but in Gary's arms, he felt so minuscule, like he needed to be protected at all costs. Gary tried not to think that he was the thing Michael needed protection from, and hugged his best friend tightly, their chests pressed securely together.

Michael seemed to melt in their embrace, his cheek nestled heavily on Gary's shoulder, his arms loosely thrown around his neck. One of their friends teased them on her way to the fire pit, but neither men paid it any mind. This was normal for them, everyone was used to it. It was warm, and safe.

"Mm, kinda don't wanna let go," Michael murmured after a full minute had passed.

Gary blushed, his eyes squeezed tight against the bright light of the flames. Tentatively, he began rubbing Michael's back, the sksh-sksh-sksh of the material of the jacket loud in his ears. Michael sighed in what could only be bliss and leaned his head back to gaze at him. It took Gary aback.

Michael never did that. Never looked at him with their faces so close together. Their noses were nearly touching, their lips not far behind. Gary could smell the cool mint of his gum, could see the glitter of something unreadable in his bright eyes, could feel his own cock stirring, nudging against Michael's upper thigh--

Gary shoved him back.

Michael appeared dazed, like he had felt it and was trying to work out what it was.

"Shit," someone blurted behind Gary, startling him, "I thought for sure you idiots were finally about to kiss."

"Shut up, Kyle," Gary muttered, stomping off.

He found a spot directly in front of the pit and stuck his hands out to warm them. A moment later, Michael sidled up next to him but didn't say anything. He did, however, hand over Gary's abandoned can of beer. Gary took it from him, their fingertips grazing, then took in a long drag. He'd been joking earlier that he needed to be drunk to confess his love to Michael, but now he wanted to lean heavily into the idea.

After finishing the one in his hands, Gary crushed the can and looked to Michael. Michael gazed back, his eyebrows upraised at having watched the other man chug his drink.

Ignoring that, Gary nodded towards the cooler. "I'm getting another, want one?"

"Nah. There's cider inside the house someone made, I'll probably get some of that."

"Okay, I'll get you some--"

"You don't have to, Gary. I can get it."

"I'll get it," Gary insisted. "Sit tight."

Michael made a motion to protest but nodded instead. There weren't many people inside the house, and the ones that were were digging into the food that'd been put out. Though the party was just another get together between the large group of friends, bringing snacks and quick meals was encouraged and often followed through.

Two slow cookers sat on one of the counters, one filled with some sort of beef chili and the other hosting the hot cider Michael wanted. He grabbed a plastic cup and filled it to its brim with the spicy concoction, the smell of apples and clove quickly filling the kitchen. Now that he got a good whiff of the stuff, Gary wanted some for himself, plus the heat would help stave off the chill. He ladled some for himself and carefully picked his way back outside to keep the cider from sloshing all over his hands.

The moment he exited the house, Gary spotted Michael drowning in a small faction of their friends. They were all laughing as they ribbed him for something or the other, but Mikey wasn't laughing. He was trying to argue back, his face tight with frustration. Gary felt his protective hackles rise. Nobody ever picked on Michael when he was around because they knew Gary wouldn't put up with that shit. Michael was much softer, and despite him literally turning red in the face to get them to listen to him, he got steamrolled every time.

Gary hurried over as best he could, ready to tear them a new one, when loud mouthed Kyle stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh stop trying to lie, you totally sucked all those cocks!"

"I'm telling you for the last time," Michael countered, "I did not!"

"You did what?" Gary blurted.

The attention of the group was suddenly upon him, some startled but most looking like they were about to witness history in the making. Gary only had eyes for Michael, who stared back at him like a deer caught in headlights. Gary wasn't naive. He knew that Michael hooked up with people, but the way he hadn't cowed and had tried hard to fight back against everyone's teasings meant that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"I, um, nothing--"

"Bullshit," Kyle chortled. "You mean you didn't tell your boyfriend?"

Gary ignored their bullheaded friend, the palms of his hands starting to feel scorched from the hot drinks he still held. "Mikey?"

Head down, Michael snatched one of the cups from his hands and ran off. Someone ran off after him, Gary assumed to ask him to come back, but he could hardly focus on that. Gary's head was beginning to spin. What the hell was going on? Michael normally told him everything, and he sure as hell didn't run away from him. He turned expectantly to the others, trying and failing not to lose his shit.

"Anyone mind telling me what the fuck is happening? Someone other than Kyle, please?"

Kyle shut his mouth with an audible click and pouted. Aubrey took the plunge.

"When you were out of town we got together for drinks. Everyone knows Mikey's a lightweight and susceptible to suggestions soooo... we kinda sorta dared him to hang out in a glory hole booth?"

Gary blinked at him, slowly processing the words.

"One hour, a hundred bucks," Kyle blurted, always desperate to keep himself at the center of attention. "He stayed the whole time and swears he didn't suck anyone off."

"He could have just stayed hidden or something," Bethany chimed in, swaying from foot to foot with nerves, "it's not like the walls are made of clear glass."

"And how would you know?" Aubrey teased.

"Oh shut up," she hissed, slapping his arm.

But Kyle impatiently waved her off. "I would lay off if that was true but it's not. He could barely talk the next day, remember? His throat was sore, meaning..."

"He could have gotten a cold," Bethany grumbled.

"No, it meant he got deep throated, Bethany!" Kyle yelled, startling the entire backyard into silence. "Why is it so hard for you guys to accept that Mikey's a whore for cock? I bet you anything he was in Heaven!"

"When was this?" Gary asked, his voice a barely held back growl.

He had a feeling, a bad, bad feeling. But it couldn't be. There was no way Michael had been there that day, no way he had allowed Gary to use him like that. But what if his gut feeling was right? Then that meant that Michael continued to meet him in secret, week after week to lick his cock and listen to Gary whine about how he could never have him. He let Gary continue to make an ass of himself and chose not to say anything, to put him out of his misery.

Kyle was too busy ticking on his hands to come up with the date. Once again, Aubrey provided the answer, a hand held up to his chin as though visualizing a math equation.

"A month ago, right? The seventh? Yeah, cuz that's the day you came back into town, right Gary?"

Not deigning him with a response, Gary spun on his heel and took off in the direction Michael had disappeared to. The others shouted at him, asking where he was going and what was wrong, but he ignored them. He nearly ran into Sara, the person who had chased after Michael, and after halfway snapping at her to know where Michael was, she stepped back and pointed towards the front of the house.

"He's in his car," she stated, giving him a suspicious glance, "wouldn't speak to me. Think he might be hyperventilating or something."

Gary grunted and shoved his cider at her, which she took without a word.

Like she said, he found Michael hunched forward in the driver's seat of his dinged blue car, his head buried in his hands. The anger he had felt at the full realization that Michael had indeed sucked his cock that day faded at the sight of him. Michael did look panicked. Like he knew Gary would put two and two together, and that maybe, like Gary, he was too scared to admit to it.

Gary walked over and gently rapped his knuckles on the window, eerily similar to how he had coaxed him back at the glory hole. Michael snapped to attention, his eyes wide. Thankfully, he hadn't been crying, but he stared up at Gary beseechingly, as if asking to be left alone. Gary waited. It really was just like that day.

Eventually, Michael relented and opened the door to step out. They stood in awkward silence, Michael with his head down and evading eye contact, the faint sound of laughter and conversation wafting throughout the neighborhood. Gary mused over which way he should handle this. Go straight for the kill or lead him gently into it? He was upset, sure, but despite it all, he still loved Michael with all of his heart. If there was a chance to repair this tear in their friendship, he would try his best to keep it together.

"I believe you."

Michael's head jerked up. He seemed surprised. "Y-you do?"

"Yeah... I know you, dude. You're not the type of person to suck some rando's cock when it's dangling in front of you."

Michael blushed at his words but relaxed. He stuck his hands beneath his armpits, keeping them warm. "Thanks. I'm not that easy."

"Good... but did you really hang out in a glory hole booth for a whole damn hour?"

"They told you, huh?"

"Mhm. So did you?"

Michael hesitated before giving a quick nod. "Just the one time."

Gary almost snorted. While a decent lie, his stalling didn't help his case any. "Bethany thinks you hid the whole time? I woulda just bounced."

"Well someone was watching the main door." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Michael froze.

Gary did, too. One of their friends was keeping an eye on Michael, probably saw everyone who went in and out during that entire hour. Which could only mean that they had seen Gary go in. It didn't mean that they knew that Gary and Michael had done anything together, but it at least meant that they knew that Gary had shown up at the establishment in the first place. He almost asked to know who it was, but he didn't want to tip his hat just yet.

"That's kinda mean," Gary stated eventually. "I'm sorry you went through that. Were you scared?"

Michael shrugged, glancing away. "A little bit."

"If I had known--"

"It's in the past," Michael interrupted solemnly. "Besides, I don't need you to fight all my battles." He shivered as a breeze passed through; Gary heard his teeth lightly chatter. "Fuck, it's cold."

"C'mere then."

Gary didn't think Michael would move, but the redhead readily stepped into his arms, his own arms uncrossing so that he could pin his hands between their chests. For the briefest of moments, Gary wished that there weren't any secrets between them. He wanted to just hold his friend and not worry about anything whatsoever. But he had to bite the bullet and say something. He didn't want to live in a lie anymore because eventually, it would only end up tearing them apart. And the last thing Gary wanted was to live in a world where Michael wasn't his friend.

"I have a spare pair of gloves in my car if you want them."

Michael shook his head, his hair tickling at Gary's neck. "Your hands are bigger than mine; wouldn't fit right."

"They can't be that much bigger," Gary insisted. He pulled away from Michael, and ignoring his slight whine, grabbed one of his frozen hands and spread their fingers out in a mirrored image. He already knew that Michael's hands were smaller than his, they'd always been that way. But it helped further solidify what he already knew as he curled his fingers around Michael's, the action familiar as they'd been doing that for four whole weeks.

Michael didn't seem to understand what was happening, his face openly mesmerized as he watched Gary clasp his hand. Gary almost didn't want to pop the serene bubble that had enveloped them, but it had to be done.

"You're right," he whispered, stroking his thumb against his friend's knuckles, "your hands are smaller than mine. Nice and soft, too." He leaned in, heart pounding at the way Michael stared at him, confused but hopeful, his lips parting as if preparing to receive a kiss. "But I don't have to tell you that I like that, seeing how you already know."