No Homo

Andy looked pretty rough when he stepped off the escalator-his hazel eyes were bleary and bloodshot, and he had about a full day's growth of stubble on his cheeks and chin. His hooded sweatshirt looked like he'd slept in it for two days running, which was pretty close to the truth; Blake spent a moment or two doing the math, and figured out that between the layovers and the flight times, Andy had probably spent twenty-seven consecutive hours either in an airport or on a plane. No wonder he didn't exactly have a spring in his step.

But his face lit up in a broad smile when he saw Blake waiting for him by the baggage claim, and he threw his arms out wide to either side and said, "Awww, that's my boy! Bring it on in for a hug, dude! No homo."

"No homo," Blake chuckled, embracing Andy warmly. He wrapped his arms around his friend's waist just underneath the heavy backpack and rested his chin on Andy's shoulder, closing his eyes and leaning into the feeling of Andy's body sagging slightly against his. The stubble was a little scratchy against his cheek, but Blake didn't mind. He hadn't seen his best friend in almost a month, after all. Some things were worth a little discomfort.

When he finally let go, Blake leaned back and took another good look at his old fraternity brother. "Dude, you look like they fucking scraped you off the tarmac," he said playfully. "Did you get any sleep on the plane?" He reached down and grabbed the roller bag he'd pulled off the luggage carousel a few moments earlier, and nodded in the general direction of the parking ramp. "I'm parked this way," he added parenthetically.

"Cool, thanks," Andy said, hitching up his backpack and starting to walk toward the exit. "Um, so... yeah, I got a little sleep on the last leg out of LAX, but it wasn't what you'd call good, y'know? It was that shitty kind you get when your body's just all, 'fuck this, I'm done, peace out, y'all'. Like, I was awake enough to know we were flying through turbulence and shit, but I was so tired it didn't fucking matter. The plane could have gone down and I wouldn't have woken up."

"No, yeah, I totally get it," Blake said, walking a little faster to catch up. "Like that road trip we took down to Atlanta, where we had to pull over on the way back because I kept going onto the shoulder. I mean, I knew I was falling asleep, but I also couldn't stop myself. We were lucky we didn't go into a fucking telephone pole or something, you know?"

"No, you were lucky I was there to tell you to pull over, dude," Andy said with a crooked grin on his face. "I remember, you were totally all, 'Nah, I'm good, it's just another forty miles to the next rest stop,' and I had to just about drag you into the backseat and sit on you until you fell asleep so we didn't fucking crash."

Blake rolled his eyes. "That is such bullshit, dude," he said mildly, rolling his eyes at Andy's melodramatic exaggerations. Yeah, he'd been pretty tired that morning-driving from Baltimore to Atlanta, tailgating all day and partying all night before driving straight back kind of did that to a guy-but Andy didn't need to tell him anything. Blake just knew his limits, and he pulled over and took a nap. Nobody dragged him anywhere or sat on anything.

But he knew there was no arguing with Andy on shit like that, so when Andy said, "Fuck you," and gave him a playful punch on the arm, Blake just gave him a token punch back in return and let it drop. He didn't need to argue about his memories, not when he knew what really happened. Andy was always talking about shit like that, making up stories about their college days, and Blake had gotten used to blowing him off.

"So yeah, I'm pretty fucking wiped," Andy continued like nothing had happened. "I'm okay for a little while, thanks to the nap on the plane, but there's no way I'm safe to drive. I'm figuring I'll just crash at your place tonight and head home in the morning-no homo," he added quickly, as they passed through the sliding doors and headed out to Blake's car.

"No homo," Blake chuckled back to him, walking past rows of vehicles to his SUV. "Yeah, that's totally fine, dude. Mi casa es su casa, right?" He opened the cargo door and hoisted the roller bag inside, then helped Andy get his backpack off and tossed that in as well. "Place is kind of a mess, but you're used to that by now." Blake had never really gotten out of the college bachelor lifestyle, even after getting his own townhouse and his own job-he still ate off of paper plates because it was easier than washing dishes, and most of the time his clean clothes got worn before they got folded and put away. But his best friend didn't seem to mind, and any girlfriend who freaked out about a few piles of laundry probably wasn't a keeper anyway, right?

"No, yeah, that's cool," Andy mumbled, sagging into the passenger seat as soon as he got into the car. Once he stopped moving, it was even more obvious how exhausted he was-he spent most of the trip back to Blake's house with his eyes shut, and Blake couldn't really tell whether he was even awake or if he'd done another one of those 'peace out' catnaps. Blake decided to leave him be until they got home. They could always talk about Andy's trip to Hong Kong once his bro felt a little more like himself again.

After a half-hour or so of driving, Blake pulled into his driveway next to Andy's Camaro and gave Andy a little shake to wake him back up. "Hey dude, we're home," he said, getting out and heading around to grab Andy's bags. "You fell asleep again." He hefted Andy's backpack onto one shoulder-no sense in making his bud carry a whole bunch of stuff when he was clearly crispy-fried, and it wasn't exactly like he had a problem hauling heavy things. Between the gym and the job, he could probably carry another couple bags without any effort if he had to.

Andy stumbled out of the car, mumbling, "Nah, dude, I was just resting my eyes," but it was pretty clear that he was still kind of out of it. He rubbed at his face like he was trying to massage his brain back to life, and his body swayed gently in place as he waited by the door for Blake to unlock it. Any thoughts Blake had of an all-night shooters and Overwatch marathon died quietly in his head.

They got inside, and Blake set down the luggage next to the door. "Here, dude," he said, moving quickly across the living room to scoop up an armload of clean clothing from the sofa. "Let me just find a place for the clothes on the couch, and you can go ahead and crash." He started to look around, trying to find a place to deposit the outfits that wouldn't wreck his system. The recliner had dirty clothes on it, and he didn't want to mix the clean stuff with the dirty stuff. The kitchen table still had some residue on it from the spill at breakfast this morning, and he knew he couldn't set anything there until it was wiped down. The kitchen chair wouldn't hold everything, and-

"Nah, nah, don't worry about it," Andy mumbled, looking weary and haggard. "I don't want to put you to all that work. We'll just share your bed tonight, okay? No homo." He scrubbed at the stubble on his cheeks with his fingers, almost as if he was surprised to find it there, and gave Blake an expectant look as though he thought his friend was going to argue the point.

But Blake had shared plenty of beds with other guys before. "No homo," he said with a shrug, heading down the short hallway to his bedroom. It wasn't a big deal-back in their college days, Blake and Andy had wound up crashing together in all sorts of weird situations, from road trips to overnights for track to just being too fucking drunk or tired to find the right bedroom. It wasn't a big deal, not for a dude as secure in his heterosexuality as Blake. He could sleep next to Andy and not worry about what it 'meant' like some other guys did. It meant they were friends, that was all. Buds. Comrades. Amigos. Bros in arms.

Andy followed along behind, pulling his hooded sweatshirt off and tossing it on the floor by the bedroom door. "God, I gotta tell you, I feel grungy as fuck," he muttered, shucking his undershirt to join the growing pile of clothes. "I put on the sweatshirt in the airport because they were blasting the fucking AC like they wanted to make it snow or some shit, and then the whole plane trip I was fucking sweating. I just gotta get out of these clothes, no homo."

Blake shrugged. "No homo," he said lightly, as Andy wriggled his way out of the pair of sweatpants he was wearing and kicked his boxer briefs off. It wasn't like it was anything he hadn't seen before. They changed in front of each other all the time, and sometimes when Andy came over for the weekend it was just easier to hang out in their underwear if they weren't going outside or anything. He knew some guys got weird about it, but seriously, just seeing another man's cock didn't make you gay. Blake wasn't about to start freaking out over something as normal as being in bed next to a naked dude.

"Cool, cool," Andy replied, pulling his socks off and tossing them with the rest of his clothing. "I'm going to the bathroom. You should get comfortable too, you know? Get out of those tight clothes and get ready for bed." He added, "No homo," with a chuckle as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

"No homo!" Blake shouted through the door, hooking his fingers into the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. It was so silly, the way some guys got so hung up over nudity. As if just taking off your clothes in the bedroom with a naked man around could somehow magically turn you into a homosexual or something. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay-Blake had gay friends at work, and they were cool and all. It wasn't his thing, but Blake was cool with guys who liked other guys. He just didn't swing that way, that was all. That was why it was okay for him to get undressed and sleep in the same bed with Andy, because he wasn't gay.

He had just finished taking his clothes off and crawled onto the bed when Andy came back out. "Oh, hey man," Andy said, still sounding a little like he was half asleep. "You look like you gained a little muscle while I was gone. Like, no homo, but you look like you could flex up even bigger than the day I left."

Blake couldn't help feeling a tiny surge of pride. "No homo," he said, straightening up onto his knees and striking a pose to show off his thickly-muscled arms. He flexed his biceps and squeezed his buttocks tightly together, feeling his glutes harden until Andy could have bounced a quarter off of them. Blake didn't often get appreciated by another dude like this, and it was nice to hear someone noticing the hard work he put into his weightlifting routine. He knew some guys had a lot of trouble accepting compliments about their body from other guys, but Blake felt good knowing that Andy saw how much effort he put into looking buff.

"Mmm, yeah," Andy murmured, his voice a half-growl of approval as he crossed the bedroom. "That's definitely tighter than when I left. You did a great job of keeping your routine-I can tell you didn't miss a day. Mind if I see how it feels?" he asked, his hand hovering just a fraction of an inch away from Blake's back. "No homo, I just want to see if it feels as buff as it looks."

Blake chuckled. "No homo," he agreed, leaning just a little into Andy's touch as the other man ran his fingers down Blake's perfectly defined lats to cup Blake's tightly-flexed buttocks. It was really no different from college, when Andy would spot him on weights and help make sure that his lifting technique was good. Guys needed to touch each other sometimes when they were working out, for safety if nothing else, and it was kind of sad that some guys were so weirded out by being touched by another dude that they had to keep their distance from another man's body. It was just physical contact. It didn't make either one of them gay or anything.

"Wow," Andy said, sitting down on the bed next to Blake and trailing his fingers up and around Blake's hip to stroke his rock hard ab muscles. "Dang, dude, you're doing a really good job right now. I mean, a whole month, and..." He let out a low whistle. "You haven't even skipped a beat, have you? Not that I was worried, not after all these years, but... I figured you might need a little extra conditioning my first night back. But you're right in the groove, aren't you?"

"Yes sir," Blake said quietly, chuckling in the privacy of his head at the shared joke between them. Ever since college, Andy had always liked to believe he was the one in charge, just because he was a year older and captain of the track team. And every time he started to tell Blake what to do, from workout routines to shotput technique to... to everything... Blake always started calling him 'sir'. It was so comfortable Blake barely even thought about how it started anymore. He just slipped back into the habit again, same as always.

Blake liked following good habits. If he didn't have to think about something, he never forgot about it. Just like Andy told him back in college. He got into his exercise routine, did his daily workout right in his spare room first thing in the morning, and he never missed it because he never thought about doing anything else. It was so nice to know that Andy noticed, so good to hear his best buddy complimenting him on sticking with it day in and day out and never skipping a beat. Blake felt so good, knowing he was so perfectly conditioned like that.

Blake's eyes fluttered a little bit, his skin tingling deliciously as Andy continued running his hands over Blake's perfectly defined muscles. Andy's fingers occasionally brushed over Blake's firm, pebbly nipples, sending a little pulse of pleasure straight down Blake's spine into his stiffening cock, but Andy only smiled at him and said, "Sorry, dude. My bad. No homo, right?" And Blake smiled, and nodded, and let the electric surges of bliss flow through him.

"No homo," he whispered back, his jaw slackening just a little more with every caress. It felt good to be touched like this, that was all. It was just his body responding to sensation, that was all; his nerves didn't know that it was another man pinching and tweaking his aching nipples. His cock didn't care whose fingers were stroking up and down his chest and abdomen, brushing at the fringes of his pubic hair before returning back up to play with his tightly-budded nips. It didn't make him gay to enjoy this feeling. It didn't make him gay to kneel passively, his breath coming in gasps as beads of precum began to gather at the tip of his penis. He just liked the way Andy's touch felt, that was all.

"Oh, shit," Andy murmured, looking down at his own cock. Somehow, it had developed an erection every bit as stiff as Blake's, his penis jutting bolt upright from his lap and twitching almost angrily with arousal. "Dude, I'm never going to be able to get to sleep like this. I hate to ask, but could you maybe get down here and suck me off before we go to bed? No homo," he added, the words sounding almost like an afterthought.

"No homo," Blake responded blankly, climbing down off the bed and kneeling in front of Andy's throbbing cock. He understood that sometimes men needed more physical stimulation than they could get from masturbation if they wanted to get off, and there wasn't always a woman around to help. That didn't mean Andy was gay, just because he guided Blake's head gently down to wrap his lips around the purplish-red head of his penis, and it didn't mean Blake was gay just because he eagerly slid the shaft into his mouth until he was swallowing it. None of this was gay, it was just... it was... it was normal, that was all. Everything was perfectly normal and Blake didn't need to worry about it at all.

He bobbed his head up and down, settling into a familiar rhythm as he swirled his tongue against Andy's thick, meaty shaft. His fingers moved up to tickle Andy's ball sack, stroking the sensitive skin over and over until his best friend openly whimpered and squirmed on the bed. Blake couldn't smile, exactly-his lips were wrapped too tightly around Andy's hard cock for that. But in his head, he could feel a warm glow of pleasure envelop his mind at how good he was making Andy feel.

It was so easy that Blake didn't even have to think about it. His lips and tongue knew exactly how to caress Andy's aching cock, just where to lick the tiny fold of skin right below the tip to send gush after gush of delicious precum into Blake's eager mouth. His fingers knew just where to gently stroke the tender skin of Andy's balls to make them tighten and twitch in desperate, eager anticipation; years of helping his friend empty his sack when they were alone together had made Blake an expert cocksucker.

That didn't mean anything... unusual, though. Andy had explained it all to him years ago, back when they were new teammates and Andy helped Blake push through his exhaustion and focus on his training. When he was focused and attentive, he understood things so much better, and Andy helped to keep him focused and attentive so he could understand everything Andy told him. It all made such perfect sense to Blake when Andy explained it that he didn't really need to think about it, anymore. He could just accept the truth of Andy's words, and let his mind work out its own reasons for it all. It was so much easier that way.

As easy as swallowing Andy's long, thick shaft all the way down his throat. As easy as pressing his lips to the base of Andy's cock and gulping endlessly, effortlessly, sucking on the firm flesh filling his whole mouth until Andy let out a strangled grunt and Blake felt jet after jet of warm, thick cum spurt and gush inside him. As easy as taking Andy's full load, every last drop. Blake knew that didn't make him gay, though. It just made him a good boy, that was all.

"Thanks, bud," Andy sighed, gently pulling Blake's head up and away from his softening cock. "I think I really needed that." He lay back on the bed, his eyes drooping a little with post-coital exhaustion mixed with sleep deprivation, and patted the mattress next to him. "Come on up here, good boy. It's been a fucking month since I got to play with that cock of yours, and I think I can stay awake just long enough to jack you until you're begging to obey."

He smiled, holding the pause just long enough to watch Blake's brow furrow in confusion at the dawning realization of the strangeness of the request, before adding, "No homo, of course."

Blake smiled. His face and his mind smoothed over at the same time. "No homo," he mumbled obediently, clambering onto the bed and lying on his back to stare vacantly at the ceiling. He couldn't think why it all made sense, reaching up to play with his nipples while Andy began stroking his hard, aching cock. But he knew it would, if he only thought about it. He already knew that everything that happened between them was totally, perfectly normal, and his mind could find its way back up from that certainty to whatever rationale he wanted. Just like he was trained to do.

"...thank you, sir," he muttered, eyes blank and sightless, as the pleasure slowly overwhelmed him again.

THE END