Box Shaped Heart Ch. 08

Chapter Eight - Look At You Now

The sofa was clearly there only for visual appeal and nothing more. Carter tossed and turned, but no matter what he did, how he coiled and uncoiled himself, he could not find an ideal sleeping position. Eventually, he settled for throwing his legs over one end, and lay there, like the perfect crash test dummy.

There was no way he was going after Aron, like before, or sleeping in the same bed. In a way, this was convenient. He wasn't going to engage in penetrative gay sex with his best friend, if they were rooms away.

Which left very few options, but what was he to do? Until he and Alex were going to switch back, he needed to make this marriage work. Even if there was barely a chance in hell for Aron to find out about the body swap - and believe it - he didn't want to be the cause of Aron's divorce from the douchebag.

So, for the moment, he had to consider giving Aron a blowjob. How hard could it be? He had had it done to him dozens of times. Girls seemed to like blowing him. He could even remember asking one of his girlfriends why she liked to give him head so much. When she had looked at him, licked her lips, and told him he was delicious, he had almost wanted to test that.

Unfortunately, he wasn't flexible enough to give himself a blowjob. Wait, what if Alex's body could? The guy was skinny and had the body of a dancer. That could definitely serve as a starting point. He wasn't sleepy anyway, so he quickly shed off all his clothes and sat on his ass.

How was he going to go about it? Maybe if he leaned in. The problem was he wasn't hard. He tried to remember that girlfriend and how she used to suck his dick like it was some magical lollipop. The way she had lapped at his dick was almost making him in the mood for that, too.

Great. Now he was hungry. Maybe he could search for something in the kitchen. Something with zero carbs, preferably. He needed to take care of the asshole's body, and he had already made a pact with himself to eat just one hamburger a day. He wasn't that much of a scumbag to return Alex a flabby body, with sky high cholesterol levels. And he was going to work out, to keep in shape.

Now, back to the task at hand. His dick was still soft. The mental detour about food hadn't helped, apparently. Now, what to think about? Maybe he could browse for some porn. He fumbled with his jeans dropped on the floor, to take out the phone. Wow, he was going to taint a gay guy's phone with straight sex.

Hmm, his fingers hovered over the screen. Maybe he needed to watch some gay porn? It was Alex's body, after all, maybe it wasn't going to react to pussy and tits. Well, gay porn would also be instructional, he thought philosophically. After all, he was preparing to give a guy a blowjob.

Well, it was supposed to be easy.

Type in the biggest porn site, go to the gay section ...

He put the phone down. What on earth was he doing? There was no way he was going to watch gay porn. He wasn't ready for it. Not that he had never seen gay porn.

But it happened only because:

a.It had been an accident

b.Out of curiosity

c.Not, definitely not, with the intention to jerk off

d.All of the above

He hadn't been under a rock, but, those times, when he had accidentally seen some guy stuffing another guy with cock, his eyes had just slid away, and it had meant absolutely nothing. Right now, he even had a tough time to bear in mind that he was supposed to be a homophobe. A homophobe and a straight guy. A non-gay guy. The opposite of all things gay.

Who was going to blow his best friend, so he wouldn't blow his cover. It made so much sense. All right. He needed the instructions on this. Maybe he needed to start slowly. Google the question.

How to suck dick? Was this the right question? Thousands of search engine robots were just waiting for the chance to jump at all the information available on dick sucking and deliver it to him on a shiny phone screen. 21 million results. He whistled. Just how many people need to learn how to suck dick every day? Apparently, there's a lot of dick sucking happening on the planet.

He drew a long breath. A lot of advice was for girls, so they could offer oral satisfaction to their boyfriends, husbands, lovers, bosses, or whoever. The sugary language was almost making him sick, like he had just ingested a whole cake.

What the hell. He was a guy. He had a dick. The only thing he needed to do was to think what he liked, and go from there. It was like he was a secret agent with an inside job. A blowjob, to be precise.

Back to trying to self-suck. But how to get hard?

Think of something that should get you hard.

All right. No biggie. When was the last time you got a blowjob, Carter?

Apparently, some time ago.

He began stroking his dick, while trying to concentrate on his past sex life, but, as seconds passed, he found himself more and more frustrated. It was like that part of his brain got erased or something. Oh, right, it was Alex's brain, so straight sex memories might not work that well. What else did he have? No, he wasn't going to watch gay porn. As already mentioned, he wasn't ready to watch gay porn with the intention of getting hard, and that was final.

Aron. He was in Alex's body, so he needed to think about Aron. The memory of how the guy had drawn that long swipe all over Carter's dick popped right away. And, along with it, his cock, too.

"Look at you," Carter shook his head as the familiar surge of pleasure got a hold of him.

It was so easy to stroke it to full length now. All right, that was a good go-to image. Aron with his husband's cock on his lips. It definitely worked.

Carter leaned and tried to angle his body. Maybe if he pushed his tongue out, as much as he could? Nope, not possible. He should just change the position. He lay on his back and brought his feet up, making sure to curve his spine. There had been a picture he had once seen of a guy sucking himself and that was how the guy was doing it.

Well, that seemed to do the trick. His dick was closing in, and he could almost reach it. Alex was a really flexible guy. What had Aron said he was doing? Ballet? The moment his tongue connected with the tip, he grimaced. It was somewhat salty. He shrugged. He still needed more so he could wrap his lips around the head.

He was about to do it. But he stopped. This was not okay. He was practically going to suck another guy's dick. And if he was going to do that kind of sacrifice for someone, that was going to be Aron. Not douchebag Alex. He had no intention to suck Alex's cock, even if, given the circumstances, that was his cock, for now.

Maybe he needed to use fruits, or something. Try to swallow a banana. At least, it was not Alex's dick. He swatted the hard cock.

"You're really fucked up," he wagged his finger at it, and just decided to go back to sleep.

He also needed to visit his body again, at the hospital. He really hoped he was going to switch back just in time for Alex to get back to his husband and on his knees to serve him properly. That image was making his cock hard again, just when it was starting to grow soft. He had seen Aron's cock at eye level. The rest wasn't impossible to imagine. He turned on his belly and began rubbing against the rough coverlet. Well, his dick had to do with that for now.

***

His neck was killing him, and his back wasn't in a better condition, either. With a groan, he got to his feet, and to the bathroom. The house was silent, which meant that Aron was not up yet. Good thing he had the bathroom to himself.

He didn't care about dressing up after taking a quick shower, so he just headed to the kitchen. He felt hungry like hell, and he needed something to eat, now. He was about to open the fridge when his eyes fell on the fruit bowl on the kitchen table.

"Swallow a banana ..." he talked to himself, now remembering about the unsolved quest from the prior night.

He grabbed one long yellow fruit from the bowl, and watched it warily. Maybe Aron was thicker. Yeah, definitely thicker. He had held that thing in his hand. Well, he shrugged. It was a start. Getting the tip in was not that hard, but as he began pushing towards the back of his throat, he felt like gagging. Maybe he needed to get adjusted to it, so he took it out a little. Hmm, it was a little better, he guessed. Now, he only needed to try harder. In and out, in and out. What do you know, it wasn't THAT hard.

"What are you doing?"

He turned to stare at Aron, with the banana sticking half out of his mouth. Aron's eyes clouded for a couple of seconds.

"Explain to me why I shouldn't bend you over that table and fuck your brains out right now," Aron spoke again, as he placed his hands on his hips.

The guy was wearing nothing but silk pajama pants, loose on his hips. Carter's eyes traveled up and down the man's beautiful torso, partially covered in black curly hair. Eventually, his brain registered that he needed to defend himself. Pulling the banana out, he managed to speak.

"Health and safety regulations?" he attempted an answer to Aron's statement from earlier.

His husband just threw him a weird look.

"It's a new diet I'm trying," he explained, gesticulating with the fruit. "Eating a whole banana. Without peeling it."

Aron sighed and looked up, like he was asking for celestial help to deal with his husband.

"Look," Carter spoke and took a bite from the unpeeled banana.

Aron made a disgusted face.

"Well, next time, try your new 'diet' with some clothes on. It's unfair of you to dangle that sexy ass in front of me first thing in the morning, without any intention to put out."

Carter looked down. Oh, shit, he was naked.

"And weren't you supposed to be somewhere early?"

Oh, yeah. Damn, what was he going to do right now? Swallow the disgusting mush in his mouth? No way, he was squeamish. He just went for the trash can, opened it, and spat.

"Well, it's not working," he glared at Aron who was still looking at him like he was a lunatic.

"How can you tell?" Aron said, and the irony wasn't lost on Carter. "How long have you been trying it?"

The man moved to the fridge to grab something to eat. Carter could feel his stomach rumble. But, well, he needed to get out and fast.

"Enough to know it's not working," he said snappily, and began marching out of the room, in what he hoped looked like a dignified stride.

Which was rather hard to do, as Aron's heavy hand landed on his ass in passing, almost making him stumble. That had not been a playful smack. Carter could feel it.

Reigning in the temptation to just turn and punch the guy in the face, he ground his teeth and continued to walk away.

"Oh, baby, I so love watching you go," Aron added insult to injury and began laughing behind him.

To think that he was going to go down on the asshole tonight. The things he had to do for love and friendship. Not his love, but his friendship. With Aron. Damn, that slap still stung, he thought, as he rubbed his behind.

***

"Mr. Ruskin, I'm sorry, but I cannot let you in. Visitation hours start later."

He had a hunch that the witch in white just didn't want him to see his body. Putting on his sexiest smile - he hoped that was how he looked like, and he wasn't just grinning like a psychopath - he leaned over the receptionist's desk.

"He's in a coma, darling," he cooed. "He must feel so alone."

"At the moment, the patient is unconscious. We will let you know if any changes appear. Your husband," the woman looked at the screen, at something that was outside his field of view, "left clear instructions in this respect. If you want to see the patient, please come back later."

"Later I have work," Carter tried to reason with her.

"We all have, darling," the woman smiled sweetly, but by the way her mean eyes glinted, she just loved to get on his nerves.

Was his charm-o-meter broken? Alex's looks didn't seem to work on this woman, and she wasn't the only one around who appeared immune to this guy's charms. Maybe the health care industry as a whole was not big on Alex Ruskin.

"Then I'll just stick around until visitation hours begin," he said, pursing his lips.

"Sure thing. We have fashion magazines in the waiting room. Maybe not enough to fill two hours, but you will find something to entertain yourself with, right?" the receptionist spoke.

This witch was downright rude.

"Of course," he shrugged.

Well, if he was going to wait, that was it. His phone went off that very moment. Carter looked at the unknown number, wondering what kind of surprises were waiting for him on the other end.

"Yes," he answered, making sure he sounded as irritated as he felt.

"Hi, boss," Mark's energetic voice came through. "I just wanted to make sure you'll be here in time. You have a meeting with Yolanda at 8.30, just to give you a heads-up. Then, you have your appointment with Gladys at 10. Yolanda says she doesn't need you until 1, so you can take your time grooming. Then, you have ..."

"Ah, damn, what's the point of being a star, if you're a slave," Carter mumbled, interrupting his assistant. "All right, I'll be there."

"Boss, don't you want to hear the rest? I made sure you can start your ballet classes at 5, so you can still be home by 7 tonight," Mark spoke. "Also, the reporter from New Entertainment keeps pestering me about your interview. I think he tries to play me, since I'm new. Did you agree to speak with this guy?"

"No, I didn't," Carter said abruptly.

From her desk, the receptionist was watching him with mirth. He had no choice. For now, his body had to stay put in that hospital room and he needed to take care of Alex's career. Whoever up there fucked this up so badly had some real explanations to offer. That if there was really a hierarchy in Heaven, and that was where things like crazy body swaps were coming from. Or maybe there was some logical explanation that science could not really cover at the moment, for lack of information, and credible subjects.

"Boss?" Mark called from the other end, after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Mark. I'll be there in a jiffy."

The receptionist was still looking at him with that irritating smirk on her face.

"Gotta go," he told her, and her smile widened. "You're wearing way too much makeup, darling. And crimson red is a complete no-no when you're over 40."

He had no idea if what he had said was true. Well, maybe his eyes had slid over some other titles, while reading Cosmopolitan the night before. Those glossy magazines, even in online form, had everything, from advice on dick sucking, to what colors to wear when walking your dog.

At least, the receptionist's smile faded. And that was plenty satisfying. This time, he was the one to smirk as he walked out of the hospital.

***

"What happened to you?" Yolanda almost screamed, while pushing herself towards him, like a homing missile.

She was right under his nose and was inspecting him from down there, like he had suddenly grown horns.

"What do you mean?" he stopped from taking one step back.

The little woman could be intimidating when she wanted.

"This," one of her index fingers landed right under one of his eyes. "Dark circles. Did you not get your beauty sleep?"

Not exactly, Carter kept it to himself.

"I'm going to call Aron and tell him he should not keep you awake. I thought he knew your regimen."

Maybe when his husband wasn't pissed due to lack of sex, he thought.

"And stop grimacing. It gives you wrinkles. I know you're answering to me in your own head. What? Are you afraid I can't take what you want to say to me? I have plenty of training," she pushed her finger as if she wanted to put his eye out.

"Stop it," he batted her hand away. "I just slept on the sofa, that's all."

Yolanda almost staggered as she took a step back. She covered her mouth with one hand and looked at him in shock.

"What happened?" her voice was now normal, Yolanda back to her maternal self. "Don't tell me you two had a fight."

Carter shrugged.

"It happens."

"Aron adores you, what could have gone wrong?" she asked, looking more and more worried.

Carter was starting to feel a bit awkward. And now Yolanda was watching him like she wanted to ask: What did you do?

"I didn't do anything," he answered to the unspoken question. Damn, he sounded so defensive. "Couples fight. Sometimes."

"Not you and Aron," Yolanda shook her head. "Come on, Alex, don't make me lose hope. Perfect relationships exist, because of guys like you and your husband," she continued in a reproachful tone.

Obviously, she had no idea Alex was spreading the love, aka blowjobs, all over the place. That was so not the perfect relationship. Yolanda was way too gullible, the poor thing. And he had a hunch Aron had been upset with Alex before. Yeap, there was trouble in paradise.

"It wasn't anything serious," he tried to calm her down. "Just a small quarrel between lovers. I almost forgot why we fought. Don't worry, we'll be all lovey-dovey by nightfall."

Well, he hoped. There was no way for him to get close to his real body today with a packed schedule and everything. That meant he needed to perform that blowjob and do a great job while at it. Damn, he needed help. Professional help. But who to ask?

"If you say so," Yolanda spoke, looking not terribly convinced by his insincere assurance. "Well, we'll have to use more concealer to deal with those raccoon eyes."

She was clearly exaggerating. But, of course, Alex aka the douchebag, had to be flawless. How horribly irritating.

"Yeah, put that on me, and let me be," he waved. "What do I have to do today?"

"Well, today, you will be mostly pampered. We'll look over a few ideas for the new ads, and in the afternoon we will go meet some clients."

The anti-socialite in Carter cringed at the news. He could go through a few meetings, but why was everyone so bent on seeing him? He was supposed just to make himself pretty for the camera and nothing more. At least, that was what he thought.

"Come on, don't make that face," Yolanda pinched his cheeks. "You're a charmer, everyone loves you! And you need to do that interview with that reporter from New Entertainment. You know how much you love seeing your face everywhere. Why not this week? Plus, when was the last time you gave an interview? Hmm, a couple of months ago? We let more time pass, and you'll be declared officially dead. Fashion wise."

Carter winced. How much was Aron willing to pay to keep his body in that vegetable state? Soon enough, he was going to grow tired with all those extra medical expenses, and then ... Carter didn't want to think about it. No, Aron, as he knew him was going to keep his body hanging on those machine for all eternity. He pushed away the thought that his parents didn't seem to have bothered to come see their son. They hadn't spoken in a while, and he knew that, and probably they were doing Alaska right now, or maybe Antarctica, but seriously, this was a life and death situation. The problem was, Aron was his lifeline. And, at the moment, his husband's lifeline, too, although Aron had no idea.

Maybe he needed to take care of some things himself. Alex was not going to be bothered if Carter spent his money to keep him alive, right? If anything, he was probably going to be thankful.

"Hey," Yolanda snapped her fingers in front of him. "Why are you spacing out so much? Come on, sweetie, I didn't mean it. You're not fashion dead. Just a little fashion disabled, at this point."

"What a cheerful thought," Alex replied dryly. "Tell me again, why should I do this interview?"

"To get back into the spotlight, of course. Come on, everyone wants to know how you got through a terrible accident and escaped almost unscathed. They want the whole story."