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“It’s not that weird. People do it all the time.” Jack says it with his patented flatness, the one he uses in class when he wants the teacher to believe he doesn’t care. But Robby knows that under that tone, and under his biology book, there are thorough and meticulous notes. Jack cared. He cared about a lot of things. He just didn’t want anyone else to know he cared. (Because then it mattered. If it mattered, then his Dad could throw it in his face when he failed.)
“Yeah?” Robby lets a little of his disbelief seep into the word. “Guys just…do this together. No big deal?” He doesn’t mean for the last of it to come out as a question. He also doesn’t mean to be hard enough to cut glass in his jeans, but it’s not like there was anything he could do about that.
It happened a lot, where Jack was concerned. 9th grade had been a nightmare of self discovery. 10th, he learned to start repeating his section from his Bar Mitzvah to make it go down. By 11th grade he had hit a growth spurt and girls actually paid attention to him, so he could hide in that and not think about how many times his best friend had showered at Robby’s house with the shower curtain half open.
“Yeah, man.” Jack scoffs. Robby can see the growing remains of a shredded beer bottle label on the grass in front of Jack. Sometimes, it was hard for Robby to reconcile this cool, indifferent Jack on the baseball team with the guy who slept over at Robby’s house for almost their entire 7th grade summer break and watched Star Trek with him.
“But we don’t have to.” Jack’s voice softens there, and Robby’s shoulders with it. There’s his friend again, not the beautiful, lean pin up fantasy that he turned into sometimes when Robby looked at him too long in the sunlight. “I’m not trying to make it weird or anything.”
“No, you’re not making it weird. It’s okay. You know me. I’m just a scaredy cat.” Robby tips his chin down to meet Jack’s eyes, and smiles. He’s rewarded with a toothy grin. Jack has a peeling sunburn across his nose and his shoulderblades, pink spots like ripples on the water underneath his tanktop. Jack always burned. It didn’t matter how much sunscreen he used, or how often he applied.
“It’s just sex. Look. It’s like studying for the test. You show me your method, I’ll show you mine. And we both benefit from the learning.” Robby was sold the minute Jack brought it up. But there’s something undeniably logical in what his friend was saying. What harm could possibly come from learning how to make jacking off feel better? (What harm could come from knowing what his beautiful best friend looked like when he came?)
“Okay.” Robby leans back against his towel where they’ve made a space for themselves beside the creek, still drying from where they had waded out into the cool water and splashed around like they were dumb kids. “How do we start?” They needed to start. Fast. Because Robby’s swim trunks were getting tight.
Jack looks like he doesn’t know what to do with the agreement. But in true Jack Abbot fashion, he plasters on a smile and makes it up as he goes. “You go first. I’ll watch. For uh, form check.” Robby can feel the flush spreading up the back of his neck. This was supposed to be a study session, not a presentation!
“Can’t we just both go at the same time?” Jack bites down on the corner of his lip and shrugs. “Sure. I mean, I’m going to be a little distracted but I can still give you pointers.” Jack’s fingers don’t shake where they undo the knot at the front of his swim trunks. But Robby’s do. He feels like his whole body is shaking as he gets a hand on his dick.
But it feels incredible . Heat spreads through him, and he’s already leaking. Robby looks up through his lashes at Jack and he’s got to tighten his grip to keep from coming. Because Jack isn’t jacking himself off under the thin layer of his swim trunks. He’s got them pushed down to his thighs, a hand wrapped around his length. And he’s looking right back at Robby. “I wanna see.” Jack’s voice is breathless, like they’ve been at this for hours, and not just starting.
Robby swallows down his nerves, knowing his cheeks were burning. He could feel them. He pulls his dick out, keeping his swim trunks a little higher than Jack. (He’s not that brave.) Robby can’t look away.
Jack gives a slow, teasing tug on himself. Robby mirrors the gesture.
“See?” Jack grins, and even his cheeks are pink. His tongue darts across his bottom lip. Robby’s hips are up off of the towel now.
“Everything is better when it’s me and you, man.”