Author's Note: This story is fictitious, set in a world where there is no such thing as STDs, and ergo, condoms. Be smart, play safe.
Chapter Three
"You're lucky, Mr. Warren," the doctor said as she turned off the backlight that showed the x-rays of my hands. "No major damage, no bones broken. I'll go get your discharge papers, then we'll get you out of here."
I looked at the white gauze that wrapped both hands. It bulged obscenely out, leaving room only for my fingers to wiggle. "When will you want me back to remove the stitches?"
The doctor, whose name I couldn't catch through the haze of the painkillers, was writing on a pad. As she ripped it out and handed it to me, she said, "Come back in two weeks and we'll see how far along you're healing. Until then, get these to help with the pain. I'll send your two friends in. Lord knows what they're doing at the nurse's station."
I feigned a smile. "Yeah, those two can distract people, for sure."
"You have a nice evening, Mr. Warren," she said.
"You, too," I politely replied, cursing myself that I couldn't remember her name. The door shut behind her, I got up from the observation chair, the paper crinkling as I hopped off, and immediately shivered from the cold floor.
I rifled through my bundle of clothes for my phone. They had me take off my ruined and wet clothes and put me in a dry hospital gown. Some, not all, glanced curiously as Jesse tied the back of my gown to save me some modesty and laid a kiss on my head.
I found the phone and saw that we had been here for over four hours just for stitches. My party should be in full swing by now, but with the drugs they had me on and the events that had unfolded, I didn't really feel in the mood to drink and be merry.
A gentle knock turned me around in time to see Jesse rushing towards me. "How you feeling?"
I sighed. "I feel like an idiot."
He laughed. "I meant your hands," he said, coming closer to peer at the bandages. He took them in his. "I was watching when they were sewing you up. One of the interns wanted to do it, but Dr. Gentry decided against it and did it herself. This way, there'll be less scarring. She did a great job."
"Can we go yet? I just wanna go home"
He nodded. "Logan's getting the car now."
The doctor popped her head back into the room just as Jesse let my hands go. Preoccupied with the touch screen chart cradled in her left arm, without looking up, she said, "You're good to go, Mr. Warren. I'll see you in two weeks." She ducked out before the last bits left her lips.
Logan came in, a bundle of white and yellow in his hands. He wore a blue scrub top, his original shirt now just tatters in a trash bin. "Hey, Sparky." He flashed his dapper smile and waved the clothes in his hands. "Got some scrubs here from one of the nurses."
One look at the white and pink clothes had me protesting. "I am not a soda, and so not wearing yellow bubbles. Just give me your jacket."
Jesse cleared his throat. "Mark, your bandages won't go through any of the sleeves. It's these or birthday suit."
After the entire huff and gruff I gave, to which outcome came no avail, Logan helped me out of the gown. I wore the pink bubbles, head held low, and was guided around the maze of sickly blue walls and the scent of disinfectant. I clung to Logan's arm as he guided my drugged up state out the building and into the cold night. I'd take the cold night over another minute in that sterile environment. I hate hospitals. I'm a country boy by nature. Man wasn't meant to live contained in concrete cities, which is why we lived by the preserve.
The drive was uncomfortable—awkward silence punctuated with irritation by the damp, dirty seats. I apologized and promised to get the car detailed. Logan sat in the back seat with me, his arm draped over my neck, hand rubbing soft circles on the parts of my chest he could reach. His touch was soothing. I fell asleep for a few minutes against him and awoke at his gentle touch when we arrived at the house.
Between the two of them, they got me up the front stoop and into the house. I had felt cold since my breakdown. Not wearing a coat, even from the small distance between the hospital doors to the warm car and then to the house, caused my bones to ache from the wind-chill. I voted to go straight bed, this time on my own accord and two feet. The stairwell was an obstacle, the long hallway a nomad's journey, and undressing wasn't even an option. I fell onto the bed, shivering. I pulled a pillow closer, buried my head into the lavender scented cloud, and settled in for the night. At least, that's what was planned.
Not even three minutes into slumber, I was awakened by the bed shifting and Logan crawling in. "What're you doing?"
"Hey, sorry for waking you, but Jesse went to bed," he said, shifting me off my back and onto my side. "We smoked and he got too stoned to drive." He got in front of me, snuggling his back against my taller frame. With the position, it only felt right to cradle him close. He covered us with the blanket.
Still riding the haze of sleep, I said, "That doesn't answer my question. Why are you in my bed?"
Logan shushed me. "Just go to sleep."
It was a welcomed idea and I gave into the fog, holding Logan's body. He took my hands and wrapped them around his soft dick. I held his junk and cuddled close. I remember sighing and sleep taking over huddled in his warmth.
Andrew snuggled his head against my chest. We were in bed, the sheets drawn up to his chin, with me on my back and him plastered to my right side. We had showered after sex, his Mohawk limp and damp. He traced the water that accumulated around my nipples, first one side, then the other, over and over again. "You know you're asleep, right? We didn't take a shower. This is just a dream."
I propped my head up with my arm and kissed his damp curls. "Am I? I smell your shampoo. You must be real."
He laughed. "You really think I have a nine inch dick?"
I reached between the covers and his smooth skin, wormed my hand around until I cupped his nuts, hefty and loose. From the base, I traced the seam underneath his shaft all the way to the tip. I repeated the action over and over, just grazing the skin, and was rewarded by a hardon.
Using his dick as a handle, I delicately guided him above me. "It sure feels like it."
Since our height difference was large enough to make missionary uncomfortable, it took a while to get us face to face; he had to straddle my stomach, his balls now hanging low, and then settled his weight onto me. A few drops of water fell off his hair and onto my chest. He closed the distance between our lips. Softer kisses this time, light on the tongue.
"Just right," I said, once he laid his head on the pillow on my right.
"It's a dream," Andrew said. "Everything here is made to please you." He reached behind him to guide my dick toward his asshole. My dick felt too dry to penetrate him, but once the thought passed my mind, my piss slit opened and slowly dripped out a steady stream of precum. He smeared it, coating my dick, and then rested the head against his asshole. His ass cheeks kept me in place as he pushed against it to keep it steady, but not really penetrating.
"If this isn't really real," I started, putting more pressure with my pelvis, "I'm gonna take advantage of it." The head popped through his hole, eliciting a groan and a hiss from Andrew. I ran my fingers slowly down the hallow, vertical line down his back, and cupped his ass cheeks with both hands. He was light enough that I could hold most of his weight as I eased nearly half my dick into him. As my butt met the soft bed, he couldn't wait any longer and rode me down until my entire dick was embedded as deep as it could go. The strain showed in his face as he took it all, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
I sat up, hooked his legs with my elbows, and tried to get that last little bit of flesh fully impaled on my crotch, all the while still holding most of his weight in my cupped hands. I never realized how small he truly seemed. He cried out, the angle sharp and continuously putting friction against his prostate. I kissed him, taking that exhale of pain and swallowing its sweet agony. He raised up slightly, breaking most of our contact except for the backs of his knees on my forearms and most of my dick still in his ass. Using the movement to unbalance me, he shifted so he was able to get out of my hold on him, and in the process, impaling himself again on me. This time, we both cried out, him from the jolt of pleasure on his prostate, and me from the unsuspected alternation.
His demeanor changed when he took control. It was like another side of him had taken over. His once light body became strong as stone, his grip on my arms keeping me pressed against the bed in total submission to the point that if I struggled, I began to tire myself out more than break free. I stretched out my legs and he let me. I tried to move my arms again but it was like trying to move from a vice hold, it just wouldn't work.
Agonizingly slow, he raised his ass so that only the head of my dick was engulfed by tight warmth before he repeated the process in reverse. He rode me delicately, gentle waves of pulsing bodies and the nearly silent sound of flesh meeting flesh, unlike the last time where we ravaged each other like animals in heat. There was fire in our lust, but it was the burning heat of fresh coals, waiting to burn the next thing that touches it, to consume and engulf it in flames.
That next thing came crawling into the bed as soon as I thought it. Justin's body was perpetually bronzed, the tanned to the pale alabaster of Andrew's smaller body. Another question popped into my mind and was answered before it was even formed. "Because you enjoy it," he said, closing the gap to lay on our right side. He patted Andrew's dew covered shoulder. "And because you need someone to make sure this guy doesn't drain you dry. It has happened to the best of us."
Andrew released his hold on me to reach out and touch Justin's thigh. "It might be easier if you kneel instead."
Justin did as he was told and kneeled on the bed. Andrew and I sat up again. Justin was tall enough that Andrew was eye level to his dick, but I had to bend down to get to it. Andrew fixed this by moving his mouth to Justin's balls and leaving the head and shaft to me. I aimed it to my mouth and fixed my lips around the head. I kept his foreskin in place as I explored the way it felt to have my tongue licking between that velvet layer and smooth hardness of his dickhead. I focused more on following and savoring the stream of precum that oozed out the tip of Justin's dick than I was on Andrew riding me. When my orgasm started to threaten, I broke contact with Justin and took hold of Andrew's ass, pulling him closer and pushing balls deep in him. My whole body tensed with the urge to cum but by force of will I refrained from boiling over. "Wait," I panted, as I drifted away from the edge. "Wait. I don't wanna cum just yet."
Andrew nodded. "Is it all right if I move?"
I gulped air down as I caught my breath. "Yeah, just go slow."
I thought he just wanted to shift a little but he slowly eased off my dick. Even though he was careful, when my sensitive dickhead popped out, I had to fight off my orgasm again. I had shut my eyes during the battle and when I opened them, I was greeted to Justin's cock and balls hanging in front of my eyes. He had gotten on top of me, his face toward my crotch and mine facing his. I expected him to take my dick into his mouth since I had begun to suckle on his foreskin, doing the trick of sticking my tongue in along with his dickhead to snake all the precum out, but instead, he took hold of the backs of my knees. He lifted and shifted me until he had me almost bent in half. I felt him nuzzle his face against my ball sack, licking one and then the other. He kissed the hard flesh of my perineum, using tongue and teeth to tease but not really enough to set me off spraying. His cock popped out my mouth as he pulled me tighter against his body so that only my upper back and head was on the bed while he supported the rest of my weight with his arms wrapped around my waist and the hallow of my lower back. His hands separated my ass cheeks, thumbs making firm circles where my inner thighs met with my balls, when I felt him put a tentative lick from bottom of my balls straight to my asshole.
I moaned my appreciation for that, digging my fingers into his thighs as I used them to help me steady myself. I felt a second pair of arms hold me from the other side as Justin released my weight for Andrew to hold, then a second tongue probed my hole.
Justin was obviously turned on. His precum had started as a drop or two every half minute and escalated to a string connected to his drooling dickhead to chest. It had run down to my throat. I moved his dick so that it was aimed at me, the string following it. It took little guidance to keep it from my eyes. I could only lick the tip, his legs too long for much more, but the stretch of it all heightened my experience. It was as if I was an instrument played by the two, thrumming like a perfect note. Either that, or the blood was rushing to my head.
They eased me back onto the bed, and that was when I realized that it was Chris who held me. "Hey," I said, looking around for Andrew.
Chris flashed me that smile. "You need to wake up."
I raised an eyebrow. Justin had disappeared, too, but it took a while for me to notice.
"You've got to wake up, buddy," Chris repeated.
I snorted awake, shaken out of my dream. "Wha--?"
Adam chuckled softly from the door. "Can I come in?"
I sniffled, my nose congested from sleep, and nodded. I was basking in the warm spot that Logan's sleeping form had created. He was already dressed and drinking coffee behind Adam, and the spot had barely lost its heat.
I just don't understand morning people.
Adam was my and Jesse's roommate. His room was on the bottom floor, a renovated master bedroom, complete with a bathroom that acted more like a communal shower room with three showerheads. From top to bottom, it was tiled with white ceramic. It helped to have it there since the beach was only a five minute drive and made it a perfect place to wash sand off.
They were the same height, five-nine, and other than Logan's tanned skin to Adam's milky white, they seemed almost related, down to the dark brown, almost black, hair. Logan kept his short compared to mine, but long enough to let his curls crown his temples. Adam's hair would curl but he recently shorn it short to manage it, so much so that I could see his scalp. It was still a weird look for me to get used to. Both of them had blue eyes, though Adam's were more demure. Logan's always held a hint of humor.
Adam made it to me first, sitting at the foot of the bed with one ankle hooked beneath him. Logan trailed behind. He handed me a mug of coffee, a second one I didn't see that was hidden by Adam's form. At the first whiff, I sat up and leaned against the headboard. I hesitated when I saw the bandages on my knuckles, but I balanced the liquid until I huddled against its warmth.
"Thank you," I said, graciously taking a sip. "Is the heat on? I'm cold."
Logan pulled the covers down. I was still waking up; I didn't react in time and my fingers grabbed air. "It's on, but let's get you into some clothes."
I still had a hardon from the dream. They've already seen it so I didn't bother to hide myself. Though I did ask, "Where did the scrubs go?"
"I took `em off," Logan shrugged. "But don't worry. We got a pic of you in them for dirt."
"You looked so pretty," Adam chimed. He had glanced at my dick a couple times, but mostly kept eye contact with me as he started going through my dresser drawers. Logan had stared for a moment but caught himself when he saw my smile.
I blew off the tendrils of the steaming cup and took another sip. Just enough of cream and sugar to taste but not overpower the coffee made it a beautiful dark caramel color. "Anyway," I said, trying to change the subject.
Adam brought me boxers, a plain black tee, and blue jeans. "Shower and we can help you change your bandages."
"Here's your codeine," Logan said, dropping a pill into my hand. With his back towards Adam, he smiled at me and I saw another pill pinched between his teeth.
I chuckled, thanked him, and took my medicine with the help of the coffee. All the talk had deflated my dick but the press of my bladder had me up and heading for the door. I kept the clothes that Adam picked out under one arm as my other hand balanced the hot mug. My back itched and with a glance, I found the origin, Adam's uncompromising eyes staring at my ass. Logan, clueless as ever, started making my bed. Both reactions felt sincere; they also irked me. I'd rather the doctor prescribed me a mood stabilizer to help me deal with the emotional ups and downs of the men in my life.