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Dennis looks up at the blanket above his head and prays that stain is not dried piss. The mattress smells like spray paint and dead rat, Charlie’s breath isn’t any better, and Dennis’ morning coffee and lunchtime beers are threatening to make another appearance.
Charlie is laying on top of him, his knees digging into Dennis’ thighs and face hovering dangerously close to Dennis’ own. His mouth is slightly open and his thousand-yard stare is beginning to get to Dennis.
“Can you stop breathing on my face?” Dennis turns his head away from Charlie, closing his eyes. He gets a good whiff of blanket and almost gags, turning his head back towards Charlie’s face. “How do you live like this?” Another breath falls on his face and Dennis’ nose wrinkles. “What did you eat today? No, no, please don’t tell me.”
“Sorry, you want me to not breathe? To not eat? Why didn’t you just say so, Dennis? Whatever you say, Dennis! Let’s go hide in my apartment and watch my best friend— I thought was my best friend, but now I don’t know— banging the waitress!” Charlie’s voice rises in pitch and volume, his mouth a little too close to Dennis’ ears for comfort.
“Jesus, just… Can you aim it away from me?” Dennis waves a hand in between their faces. “Where are they? Mac and the Waitress should’ve gotten here already.”
“I don’t know, maybe she had trouble with your weird pants.” Charlie shimmies on top of Dennis, pulling the blanket off.
“They’re not weird, I get them tailored to accentuate— Why am I— I don’t have to explain myself to you! God, we could have waited to do this until we heard them coming.” Dennis cranes his neck up, bumping his forehead into Charlie’s. “Fuck! And it’s not even going to work! There’s nowhere else in the apartment?”
“If you wanna take a look, that’s your business, but I’m telling you, this is the only spot,” Charlie says, rubbing at the front of his forehead. “Hey, maybe if you took all that energy you’re putting into bellyaching over this great hiding spot and focused on becoming wider and flatter—” Charlie says as he scooches around, pressing into Dennis, “—It’d work. Do your part, man!”
“Can you just stay still, for even just a second? Can we just ignore this is happening, please, for the love of God?” Dennis rubs at his eyes with a hand.
“Gotta get the right angles, bro! I’m sorry, but if we don’t wanna be seen, we’re gonna have to work for it!”
“Fine, you know what? Because you’re my best friend, Charlie, fine. Let’s just get as flat as possible.” Dennis puts his arms to his sides.
“That’s actually not the best way to be flat, see what you actually want to do is…” Charlie shifts, moving himself up Dennis’ body until he’s resting more weight on Dennis’ stomach.
“Wouldn’t we be flatter if we both spread out on the bed? Like, side by side?”
“Don’t be stupid, Dennis. What if one of them sits on the edge of the bed? That’ll give us away!” Charlie huffs as he presses his body into Dennis, wiggling around to get comfortable.
“What’s—” Dennis sits up, resting on his elbows, pushing Charlie’s face away.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, are you shitting me, Charlie?”
“What?” Charlie says
“You- you’re-” Dennis gestures to their stacked torsos, not able to point at the problem.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man! It’s a normal—”
Dennis opens his mouth, aghast. “This is definitely not a normal—”
“I mean you’re there, you’re all wiggling around, of course something’s gonna... “ Charlie looks around, nodding his head.
“I am not wiggling around!”
“Yeah, you are! You’re all—” Charlie shimmies around, moving his hips back and forth.
“Well, don’t do that, come on, don’t—”
Charlie stops moving. “Is that—”
“Well, you don’t have to—”
“Your dick?” Charlie raises his eyebrows.
“—Bring it up.” Dennis sighs, exasperated.
“Well, I’m gonna bring it up, because it’s digging into me!”
“Oh, like yours hasn’t been jammed into my stomach this whole time!”
“I thought you had complete control over your boners! What happened to that? Flaccid to erect in seconds flat?”
“First of all, it’s at a moment’s notice. It happens in seconds, but what’s impressive it at a moment’s notice.“
Charlie looks at him with condescension that borders on earnestness. “Been a while?”
“Second of all…” Dennis sighs. “No. Dennis Reynolds doesn’t have trouble getting laid. I’m swimming upstream in pussy. Oceans of pussy, and rivers, and lakes, and fjords.” He lowers himself back onto the bed off his elbows. “It’s a— it’s a natural, biological response. I’m in my prime, physically, and yes, sexually. And sometimes, things…. happen. Even the strongest men in the world fall prey to weakness occasionally.” He cocks his head to the side, lost in thought, before shaking it away and continuing. “And yes, there might be… The occasional dry spell befalling even the most… The talented, handsome, charming, sexy… It just happens, and it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Alright, dude, I’m gonna get up, maybe crack open a nice new bottle of glue, and we’ll resume hiding when we’re both back to normal, okay?” Charlie moves to roll off of the bed, but Dennis reaches a hand out next to Charlie, blocking his path.
“Hey now, that’s a little hasty, don’t you think?”
“Oh, do you—” Charlie points between them.
“Well don’t— don’t do that, don’t make it a
thing
.” Dennis lowers his arm onto the bed next to them. “Just— just roll with it, maybe. This situation will resolve itself.”
“Okay, well, I still have to get—” Charlie adjusts his body on top of Dennis, putting his legs on either side of Dennis’ torso.
“Oh, come on, that’s—” Dennis cuts himself off with a gasp.
“What was that?”
“Please don’t talk.” Dennis moves his hips in a small circle, the denim of his jeans moving roughly against Charlie’s own pants. He reaches into his pants, and Charlie begins to stammer.
“Oh, uh, dude—”
“I’m just—“ Dennis adjusts himself, pulling his dick upright in his pants. Charlie nods and reaches into his own pants, groans as he moves it into the front of his jeans.
“Oh shit,” Charlie says as Dennis wraps his arms around his waist and thrusts against him. “Oh— oh…”
It’s barely like the other one is there, Dennis thinks as they grind against each other. Between the layers of denim and underwear (probably just one layer of underwear; Charlie doesn’t wear it unless it’s Christmas), it’s basically just like they were rubbing against a couch cushion, or a pillow, or a sexy lady. Or an old friend, in a room that smells like piss and cat food.
I’m your best friend,
Dennis thinks.
It’s always been me. I’m gonna prove it.
Dennis thinks about Charlie sliding down his body, further down and undoing his pants, taking his cock in his hands and wrapping his fingers around it and finally finding a good use for that mouth, looking up at him as he sucks him off, those puppy dog eyes, looking up at him, begging, and oh god, is his dick going to smell like Charlie’s breath? He shakes his head and the thought comes loose, floats away because all that matters is the way Charlie is rocking against him, the rolling of their hips, and Dennis arches his back into the movement.
Dennis wraps a hand around Charlie’s arm, and it’s almost nothing— it’s certainly not a hand on his face or anything like that— but it’s more than Charlie ever thought Dennis could do. He imagines more, though, thinks about Dennis’ finger outlining his lips, slipping into his mouth and running his tongue along his perfect nails. He thinks about Dennis looking down at him, praising him, saying “you’re being so good, Charlie. You’re doing so good.” He thinks about taking himself in his hands in front of Dennis and Dennis clicking his tongue before beckoning Charlie over, having him lean his back against Dennis’ chest as he wraps an arm around Charlie’s torso and another arm reaches between his legs, whispering in his ear “I’m going to do things for you that you can’t even imagine.” He thinks about Dennis biting down on his neck as he wraps his fingers around his dick.
Footsteps and voices right outside. Charlie grabs the blanket, pulls it back over their heads. The door opens, swings open and Mac says “Yeah, I’d never say it to his face, but Dennis has incredible thighs.”
“Shit,” Dennis mouths, eyes wide. He looks at Charlie for a second, realizes they’ve both stopped breathing, how hard they were breathing before. Charlie’s eyes dart around frantically and Dennis glares at him, silently commanding him to not blow their cover.
“Now let’s stop talking—” Mac pulls the blanket back, “And start banging.”
Dennis' arm is already pointing at them, his mouth already opening to shout.
I'm your goddamn best friend, Charlie, Dennis thinks. Don't make me regret sticking my neck out for you.