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The Theory and Practice of Male Bonding

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Haruka had never really understood the concept of tension before. Sure, he knew intimately the tight anticipation that he always felt on the starting block before a race began. There was the raw dread of being unprepared for an important test. There was the vague and formless grip of need from a body thrumming with hormones looking for an outlet. But sitting next to Makoto as they watched two nameless men touching each other, knowing that both of them were aroused at the sight -- though for Haruka it was more the fault of Makoto than any of the sights or sounds coming from the TV -- Haruka felt true tension radiating from the two of them. It was so thick in the air that he thought he could drown in it.

The scene in the film switched, drawing Haruka's attention from his thoughts back to the two young men on screen. They had both exited the pool, and were in a lounge chair. One of them was on his back, his legs spread wide and his knees drawn up to his chest. The other was kneeling between his legs, leaning down to kiss and lick his still-hard cock. The one on his back moaned loudly as the other took his balls into his mouth with an audible sucking sound. Haruka blinked curiously as he watched the man let the balls slip from his mouth and traced a wet trail with his pink tongue down from the saliva-covered testicles to tease at the ass of the squirming, moaning man beneath him.

Next to him, Makoto made a strangled noise that tore Haruka's attention from the television back to his friend. Makoto's face was redder than Haruka had ever seen it, and his eyes were wide with focus on the screen. Haruka glanced down at Makoto's lap, finding that his hands were resting on his thighs, fingers curled in the fabric of his uniform pants while his erection was unflagging. Makoto uncurled one hand, wiping it on the fabric of his pants -- Haruka figured that his hands were sweaty, from arousal or keeping them balled up like that, or both -- and the way the fabric pulled, rubbing the back of the zipper against Makoto's cock made him shift, another noise escaping from his throat.

Haruka swallowed, struggling to take his eyes from Makoto and put them back on the screen. He could hear the wet, lapping noises of the tongue against the ass hole of the man laying on the lounge chair, but none of that was as interesting as watching Makoto fight his own need. He did his best to not look as though he were staring at Makoto, since he was embarrassed enough as it was, but what little interest he had in the porno playing on the TV was rapidly waning in favor of imagining what his best friend would look like while he was jerking off. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he wiped his own hands on the knees of his pants. The material tugged, sending a wash of sensation over him as the friction of cotton on his hard dick made his balls tighten. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing through his cock, and the muscles of his abdomen were tense with the combination of need and restraint.

"It's fine if you want to..." Haruka said without thinking, his voice tight. He made sure to keep his eyes straight ahead, not looking at Makoto, not looking down at himself, not even really seeing one actor fucking the other with his tongue. He didn't elaborate, just let the half-formed invitation hang in the air between them. He wondered if Makoto would get the meaning, and was curious if he would take him up on the offer if he did understand.

Haruka felt Makoto go utterly still next to him, and he wondered if Makoto was even breathing. He didn't want to turn and check, in case he ended up scaring Makoto into bolting. The only sound in the room was the sound of the moans of the porn actor as he was rimmed, punctuated by the soft sound of Haruka's breathing in his own ears. It felt as though time were slowing to a crawl as he waited for Makoto to do something, anything to break the stalemate they found themselves in.

Finally, after what felt to Haruka like an eternity, Makoto let the tension drain out of his body as his hands moved to cup his erection through his pants. At first, it seemed as though he was just going to readjust his dick so it could lay more comfortably against his stomach instead of pressed against the seam of his fly, and perhaps that's what Makoto had intended to do, but as soon as his hand moved his dick, and he felt the friction and the heat of his palm, he seemed to lose control of himself. He pressed his palm firmly against his dick, the fabric of his pants stretching over it and affording Haruka a view of the outline of it before Makoto covered it with his other hand, using both to touch himself. His breaths came in short, desperate pants, and Haruka felt a shiver run up his spine at how needy Makoto sounded.

Haruka was straining his eyes trying to keep his head facing the television but watching Makoto at the same time. Makoto was still squirming next to him, but for a different reason than before. He drew one knee up, moving the other leg to the side to spread his legs and give himself more room to touch himself. Haruka didn't dare blink in case he missed something, his own dick painfully hard. Makoto's mouth fell open, his tongue tracing his lower lip to wet it before his upper teeth catch the corner of it. The sound Makoto made, as if he were holding back a full moan that somehow managed to half-escape anyway, made Haruka abandon all pretenses of not staring at him. As Makoto's sense of shame was swallowed up by his need, so was Haruka's modesty. His head turned to watch Makoto grind his palm against his cock; the soft sound of the material of his pants rubbing against the material of his underwear was somehow more lewd to him than the wet sounds of sex coming from the TV.

Makoto's movements were rushed and jerky, and Haruka found himself wondering what it looked like when Makoto was alone, masturbating at his own pace instead of one set by his need and surroundings. He watched the way each sensation played across Makoto's face; his teeth digging into his lip, his eyes fluttering shut, his jaw tensing and relaxing. And before he knew what he was doing, Haruka reached over to touch Makoto's hand, covering it with his own as Makoto moved it over his cock. Makoto's entire body jerked at the intrusion into his personal space, and his eyes flew open. His mouth dropped open, teeth scraping over his lip and leaving it slightly swollen, something that Haruka found alluring in an unexpected way. Haruka moved his hand, slipping his fingers between Makoto's until he felt the taught fabric beneath them, and the hint of hard flesh hiding within.

"Is it okay...?" Haruka asked, his eyes catching Makoto's gaze. They held the stare for the space of several heartbeats, before Makoto blew out a shaky breath.

He begged Haruka with a single word. "Please...."

Carefully, Haruka moved Makoto's hands away from his dick so he could use his own to trace the contour of it. He was focused on noticing the differences between theirs, though it wasn't easy to tell with the layers of clothing between him and Makoto's cock. He could feel the ridge of the thick vein running along the underside, and the shape of the head as his fingertips teased the dip where his slit was. Makoto made another strangled sound, and covered Haruka's hand with one of his own, guiding his movements in more of a stroking motion and less of an exploratory one. Makoto's hips thrust up in tiny, jerky motions at his touch, seeking out a firmer friction than he was being given.

Growing impatient, Haruka pulled his hand away from Makoto's dick, ignoring the way he arched up and whimpered in favor of shifting himself so he could use both hands to unbutton and unzip Makoto's pants. The teeth of the zipper resisted, and Haruka frowned in concentration as he tugged at it. Makoto choked back a sob of need, and when the zipper finally gave, Haruka lifted his eyes to meet Makoto's. He had never seen such raw need before, and it sent a thrill of power through him that left him tingling.

"Haru...." Makoto groaned, his eyes flitting down to his crotch where Haruka's hands had stilled.

"Sorry," he murmured, peeling the edges of the fabric apart and shoving the bottom of Makoto's shirt up so he could see the way that Makoto's hard cock bulged the front of his dark green boxer-briefs. There was a damp spot near the head of Makoto's cock that darkened the fabric, and Haruka ran his thumb across it, his thumbnail scraping lightly across the dip of the slit.

"Nngh...!" Makoto bit his lip as his hips jerked, and Haruka felt his own dick twitch at the way he sounded, at the way Makoto's cock was so hot against his hand, and the way the wet spot was growing larger at his touch. He slipped his fingertips beneath the waistband of Makoto's underwear, pulling them down to free his cock. He didn't stretch the fabric enough, though, and Makoto's dick got caught for a moment, before springing free and slapping against Makoto's abdomen.

The video was completely forgotten, ignored as white noise as Haruka slowly wrapped his fingers around Makoto's cock and stroked it. It was unfamiliar in his hand, a slightly different shape and length, but it felt good. It felt like something he wouldn't mind having in his hand more often. Haruka ran his thumb across the slit once more, spreading the pearly precome across the ruddy head, earning a keening moan from Makoto.

Makoto's head fell back, caught by the couch cushion as his eyes squeezed shut. Haruka heard his name in the soft moan that escaped his lips, which spurred him to speed his movement up. He wet his lips, his eyes intent on Makoto's dick as he stroked it the way he liked to be touched. He wondered how Makoto jerked himself off, if he was soft and sensual or fast and eager; maybe it was something in between. Haruka paused for a moment, taking his hand off Makoto's cock to lick his palm before grabbing him again, the saliva slicking his hand making it easier to move faster. The soft sounds of skin-on-skin echoed by the background noise of fucking coming from the TV. Makoto gasped for breath his toes curling in his socks.

As he stroked Makoto with his right hand, Haruka's left hand found its way to his own lap, grinding his palm against his own cock to try and ease the ache of need. It felt amazing though he wasn't doing anything special to himself, the situation and Makoto's breathy gasps heightening the experience. Haruka considered pulling his own cock out to mirror what he was doing to Makoto's cock, but he was robbed of the chance to do so when Makoto's body tensed and his cock twitched in his hand. Several seconds later, before Haruka was even aware of what was happening, Makoto was biting his lip as his cock spilled thick, white come down his fingers. Compared to the two men in the video, Makoto was absolutely silent. All Haruka heard were swallowed groans that Makoto smothered with a hand. It was almost disappointing that he couldn't hear the sounds that Makoto made when he came, but he knew that Makoto lived in a house with two nosy siblings so discretion was vital in such situations.

Haruka continued to stroke Makoto through his orgasm, the come slicking his hand more than his saliva had and making it easier for him to glide over the still-hard cock. When Makoto's body relaxed and Makoto gave a satisfied sigh, Haruka gingerly removed his hand from Makoto's cock and focused on himself. He had never been harder in his life, and he couldn't wait to free his dick after having been confined in his uniform pants for so long at such an awkward, almost painful angle. He fumbled with the button, Makoto's come on one hand making it more difficult to work the button out of the hole. A hand on his wrist made Haruka pause, looking over at Makoto who was giving him a lidded look.

"I want to help," Makoto whispered, his voice thick with leftover arousal and so sexy that Haruka almost couldn't breathe. He swallowed, nodding his assent; Makoto smiled at him and popped Haruka's button open with much more ease than Haruka had managed. Without pulling his pants or underwear down, Makoto slipped his hand inside of Haruka's clothes and found his cock. At first he petted it, and it was enough stimulation to heighten his need but not nearly enough to satisfy him. He blew out a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to wipe sweat from his forehead and leaving a streak of Makoto's come across his skin and in his hair. He couldn't bring himself to care, though, once Makoto curled his fingers around his cock and tugged at it. Haruka's mouth dropped open, his eyes shutting as he gave himself over to the feel of an unfamiliar hand on his dick. He guided Makoto's hand through his pants, urging him to go faster, to grip him tighter; they fell into a rhythm that had Haruka grunting with each breath.

The time it took for Haruka to come, his release coating the inside of his underwear, was embarrassingly short but he didn't have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it. He had his eyes squeezed so shut so tight that his vision swirled with pinpoints of light resembling stars. Haruka didn't notice Makoto removing his hand from the front of his pants, and when he finally regained his senses his mouth was dry from panting with his mouth open.

Haruka felt a tap on his shoulder, and found Makoto leaning close to him with a package of tissues. His gaze was fixed on his own lap, as if he had regained his sense of shame, something Haruka thought was a little silly considering that they'd just had their hands on each other's dicks. What else was there to be embarrassed about after something like that? Haruka took the tissues pulling several out to wipe his hand clean of Makoto's come. He figured the rest would be taken care of in the bath and laundry.

The two of them sat there, side by side, in silence. Neither of them moved, neither of them looked at each other. The television was blank, the film having ended sometime while they had been touching each other. Haruka didn't know what to say to break the silence, to somehow make things go back to normal between them. He wondered if things would ever be normal between them again. He didn't mind that they had done what they had done, he wasn't having an existential crisis or anything, but he didn't know if the same could be said about Makoto. It didn't seem right to just come out and ask him, though, so he kept quiet.

"I should go," Makoto said, his voice sounding abnormally loud in the thick silence. Haruka turned his head to face him, eyebrows raised. "My parents will worry," Makoto explained, a fragile smile on his face.

"Okay," Haruka said.

The two of them stood, and Haruka quickly buttoned his pants so they wouldn't fall off of him as they walked to his room to get Makoto's things. Haruka followed him to the entryway, and watched as Makoto left, his eyes on Makoto's back until he was no longer visible. Haruka shut the door, running his hand through his hair with a sigh and meeting resistance from the drying come he had smeared there. Dropping his hand, he headed toward the bath.

Later, once he had cleaned up and done his laundry so he could have a clean uniform for school the next day Haruka was sitting in his room contemplating doing his homework or skipping straight to bed. He cell phone, sitting on his desk, vibrated, and he glanced over at it before standing and looking at it. It was a text message, and before he could second-guess himself, he opened his phone to look at it.

 

From: Makoto (makomako1117@softbank.co.jp)
Subj: Tonight
Date: 09/13 21:47

I've liked you for a long time now, Haru. Thank you for today.

 

Haruka stared at the message, his heart skipping a beat. He had always sort of known that Makoto had liked him, but seeing it in writing made it real. He hadn't been expecting a confession from Makoto; he had thought they were just going to continue on like they had been. Haruka clutched his phone tightly, not knowing what to think, or say, or do. The phone vibrated in his hand, indicating another message. Haruka tapped a button to bring it up.

 

From: Makoto (makomako1117@softbank.co.jp)
Subj: Don't worry
Date: 09/13 21:53

You don't have to say anything, I just wanted you to know.

 

It was a way out, a way to force things back to the way they were. If he never acknowledged Makoto's confession, then they could act like it never happened. That night could be something they looked back on and laugh about when they were grown. He didn't regret it, but he hadn't realized it would lead to something he didn't know if he was ready for. The two of them were going to be together for the rest of their school career, another year and a half, and Haruka was reluctant to make things weird between them. He wasn't rejecting Makoto, not exactly. He didn't think he would mind being his boyfriend, as long as it didn't ruin their friendship. As long as Makoto was next to him, he was satisfied.

For now, he thought it was best to just wait and see.