Triptychs – Chapter 4
I suppose I could say, I knew Cole would never love me – never love me that way, the way I love him – the first time he got a wicked crush on another boy.
Or maybe, long after that, when he fell in love with this older guy, Michael. He really did fall in love with Michael, it was amazing and frightening to watch it happen, it was like his brain just shut down and he turned into a walking pile of wet, gently-steaming emotions . . . and I didn’t know what to do; it was like I was the responsible adult, watching helplessly. And I kind-of figured it was going to end in the disaster it wound up being . . . but I didn’t know what to do. You know? What can you do, in a situation like that?
Off-topic. Way ahead of myself; that happened when we were fifteen, after all.
No, the truth is, I knew Cole didn’t love me that way, the way I loved him so fiercely, really early. Maybe, when we were twelve?
Like I said, Cole and I started jacking off together, when we were eleven; and we were doing lots, lots more together, really quickly after that.
Almost always at his house, after school; he was a latchkey kid, like me, his mom worked and his dad lived in Santa Monica; it was easy.
We could have gone to my house . . . but my dad did construction work, when he could; picking up jobs here and there, after he lost his last real job, with a real contractor. He sometimes came home early; and mad.
No; we went to Cole’s.
I remember those early times, what it was like; so vividly.
We’d be walking back to his house from middle school, in the afternoon, talking about, I don’t know, whatever shit twelve-year-olds talk about, movies, TV shows, video games, stuff that happened at school . . .
And blocks away from his house, I’d be hard. Pointing straight up in my underpants; it made me walk funny.
And it wasn’t just my dick, I’d feel it all over my body, it was like my whole BODY was a walking hard-on, I was so, so sensitive, all over, almost throbbing with the excitement of what I knew was coming.
Cole walked funny, too. I noticed; but I didn’t ever tease him about it.
And then would come that excitement, that thrill, his key going into the front-door lock, and at that moment I’d be harder than ever, my heart pounding in my ears . . .
Like I said, I’m really visual. I remember scenes, frames, images really well. REALLY well.
Cole’s room; the old-fashioned dark wood framing, around the door; the waist-high wood paneling, along the walls, coated with thick coats of off-white paint, making them seem almost blurry; the big, old Dell CRT monitor Cole had back then, on the desk by the bed.
Cole’s naked body on the bed.
In my memory, Cole was back to what he was at twelve, or so; smooth, darker-than-me . . . a few pubes on his long, bony, beautiful, skinny self, smiling and totally, totally un-self-conscious. Happy being naked, and hard; happy getting sexual. In all the years I was Cole’s jackoff buddy, all the time I was Friends With Benefits with Cole, I never, ever, once saw him embarrassed at being sexual, embarrassed at liking or NEEDING sex –
Yeah. There it is again. Is it any WONDER that I fell in love with him?
If I remember those times, the really, really sexual times, as vividly as I do, there’s one day I remember more clearly than any other. It really is burned into my head, the ultimate digital footage, and not for a good reason. Not for a positive reason, I mean.
* * *
It happened because I’d been getting adventurous. Trying new things; and this time, for the first and last time, I went too far.
By twelve, like I said, we’d already graduated from the just-jacking-each-other-off phase – although we still did that, we never exactly stopped doing that, until Cole fell for Michael, and then again, after that crashed and burned, when Cole met Jeremy. That was Cole’s policy, actually; no fooling with each other, when one of us was dating.
Wouldn’t have been MY policy. But, it wasn’t really my choice, was it?
So, this day I remember so well, when we were twelve, it was Cole and me on his bed; him on his back, me pressed to his front. Both of us naked; of course.
Hard. Rubbing against each other; feeling each other up, Cole’s hands rubbing all over my back, my butt; my arms were around him, then I’d push myself back up, and go lower down to lick his nipples –
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, and his back arched.
Cole really, REALLY likes getting his nipples licked. Thoroughly licked; for a long time. I wonder if Jeremy’s figured that out, yet?
And it was all so exciting, so erotic, so FUN, and I was gasping, and so was Cole, I could smell his breath, and the sounds he was making – he was whimpering, really, but it was a kind of DELIGHTED whimpering – the sounds were almost, almost pushing me over the edge, and his smooth skin rubbing against the underside of my dick was so incredible, I knew I was going to come, I knew I was going to spurt, get us both wet, well, a little wet, anyway, any second now . . .
“nnnNNNNGGG,” from Cole; and a twitch that was maybe kind of involuntary, and I grinned to myself.
But I didn’t want to come yet; so soon. So I hugged him close, I put my arms around him again and hugged him close, full-body to full-body; and I went still, for a second, squeezing, my heart pounding, feeling him, SO CLOSE . . . and then I tried something different. Something I’d tried with him, a couple of times, lately.
I kissed him; on the lips.
I kissed him softly, and sensuously; moving my lips over his, and then, kind of opening my mouth, just a little, working his lips, with mine, and his mouth opened a little too, and I felt the warm and the soft and the wet inside, just a little –
Cole and I sort of took turns, back then, starting up new things with each other.
Cole’d been the first one to lick the underside of my dick, a couple of months before, and that’d almost made me sperm right then and there. I’d been the first one to play with his butt, to actually tickle him between his cheeks . . . to touch his anus, to tickle his anus, and he’d gasped, and twitched, and MOVED against my fingers, and I was so jazzed at touching him there, being so intimate with him . . .
Kissing was one of my things; one of my innovations.
And I loved it, I loved it better than anything else, except maybe the exact moments when my orgasms hit me, or Cole’s orgasms hit HIM.
Some ways – I loved kissing more than even that.
Kissing Cole was such a rush; it was like an electric shock, a rush to end all rushes. I mean, it was INTENSE.
And as I worked him over, my lips on his, my bare body pressing on him, his body so WARM under me – he was kissing me back. He was kissing me back, his hands roaming all over me, his lips moving under mine, against mine, I swear to God, and he was making more noises now, little, moaning kind of noises . . .
I should have been more careful. I should have known.
The thing is – yeah, it was erotic as hell; but it was even more than that, it was EMOTIONALLY intense, it was an intense emotional high for me, I felt so, so close to Cole doing this, making out like this – and it was even more thrilling, it was indescribably more thrilling, because I could feel Cole responding, I could feel the emotions coming back at me, it was so INTENSE –
I broke off the making-out for just a second; I levered myself up on my arms, just for a beat, to look down at him, at his beautiful face, to look into his brown eyes, and I could just feel myself grinning, so wide –
And then it was back down again, my lips soft on his, and that rush was back, like a shock –
“Mmmmph,” from Cole.
And something changed.
Under my lips, I felt his lips, pressed together now, a little tighter; and I felt him, gently, move his face just a little to one side.
At first, I thought it was a joke; I thought he was playing. We were always playing jokes on each other, making fart noises, tickling, laughing, when we were fooling around with each other; it was part of what made it all so much fun.
I pushed myself up a little again, to grin back down at him. “What?”
No answer; so I lowered my face down again, slowly, gently, chasing his lips with my own, feeling that rush, that thrill, again, as we connected . . .
“Mmmph.” That sideways move of his face, again; oh, so gentle, and so slight, and now I was confused.
Okay; and afraid. I felt the first stab of fear. Fuck, did I just go too far?
“What?” I whispered, again. Not grinning.
And one of Cole’s arms came up my back, and his hand gently moved my head back down, so that we were cheek-to-cheek, and Cole started humping up against me, rubbing his dick up against my skin, again, making me gasp into his ear . . .
I’d by lying if I said I knew what it meant, right away.
I mean, after all, we really WERE humping against each other, pretty damn close to cumming, and he felt so GOOD underneath me, against me, skin to skin like that . . . SO good.
And then all at once Cole was sliding out from underneath me, sliding out and twisting me around onto my back, on the bed – and then, he was scooting back down towards the foot of the bed –
He took me into his mouth. Enthusiastically; wetly. And in about five seconds, I was shaking, and five seconds after that, with his fingers on my balls, and his mouth and tongue so warm, so WET on my dick, I was whimpering and SPERMING, I was sperming, over and over again, into Cole’s mouth, into Cole’s MOUTH, and he was actually, fuck-me SWALLOWING it, oh god . . .
Another first-thing. This one was his.
And he kept moving his wet mouth up and down on my dick, bobbing his head, until I had to put my hands on his head to get him to stop . . . and in another flash, he was up and on me, full-body to full-body, his cheek back to pressing my cheek, and he was rubbing against me, frantically, as I held him, my arms around him –
“NNNNNnnnnnnggggg - !” into my ear, and I felt the wet, warm sperm squirt out between us, I felt it as he rubbed it between us, getting it all over the both of us, and I SMELLED it, I swear I smelled it . . .
After; lying back on Cole’s bed, me on my back, Cole on his side; his head mostly resting on my shoulder; both of us smeared with his little splash of cum. Our skin touching, warm.
I lifted my head up off the pillow, just a little, and looked over at him . . . and then, really tentatively, I went to kiss him, one, last kiss, because the sex was over, for now.
“Mmmmph,” from Cole; head-move away, a second; a pause, then, a quick, upward, closed-mouth peck on the lips from him, and then his head was back down on my shoulder. Under my chin, actually; a little further away, a little out-of-range.
And that’s when I knew.
That’s when I finally figured it out.
I laid my head back down on the pillow; looking up at his ceiling, blinking. “Wow,” I whispered, after a few beats.
Just to fill the silence; just to cover up the awkwardness.
“Yeah,” from Cole, back. Softly. “Yeah.”
It was compensation; him doing me like that, sucking me off, swallowing my cum. It was mind-numbingly erotic; yeah. But it was compensation, for breaking off the make-out session.
And a lot of little things that I’d noticed, came together. The way I used to stroke him, stroke his bare skin, after we jerked each other off . . . and he didn’t do it back; not really. The way I was always hugging him, and he was the one letting himself get hugged. Other things; a dozen little cues and clues, just clicked into place, remorselessly.
Yeah; it was compensation.
Compensation, for having drawn a line in our relationship. Compensation, for him turning away from the intimacy. Well, that kind of intimacy, anyway.
The kind that mattered.
Cole’s head snuggled back, a little closer to mine, as we caught our breath, and his cum dried on our skin, cool, now, in the afternoon air.
We all have moments, in our lives; or, Moments. Decisive turns, that change everything.
I already knew, lying there, that this was a Moment, for me. Maybe the biggest in my
* * *
I didn’t cry until later that night; alone, in bed, when there was no chance of my mom or my dad finding out. And even then, I kept it quiet, real quiet.
And the next day, at school with Cole, after school with Cole, I acted like everything was fine, nothing had happened . . . everything was just fine between us.
I’ve been acting ever since; as my love for him has grown, and matured, and deepened, along with the sheer, utter, certain hopelessness of the whole fucked situation.
I’m still acting. To this day.