Lies On The Lips

Chapter Eight

Copeland

I couldn't believe it, I refused. I'm pacing my room, back and forth, biting the nasty black nail polish off my fingers. My mind is a mess of guilt and anger and something else entirely. They're giving it a go? Is it a lie, he must be lying just to piss me off. Him and Dante, Brett and ...Dante, no way. I can't have that. I bit my lip so hard it started to bleed.

"Fuck this," I mumbled and left my room. I have to see him, to see if he's lying. I storm through the house and go to my dad's liquor cabinet, just one quick drink, only one. I grabbed his bottle of scotch and down a few large gulpfuls then put it down. I stare at the bottle, just a little longer. "One more, just one more." And I down it again, feeling the heat hit my stomach and I left the kitchen towards the front door. I stopped briefly, I could hear raised voices. "Brett," I gulped and rushed out the door and towards Brett's. I could hear his dad screaming and I panicked.

"Dad, just stop!" He's hurting him and I thump on their front door, over and over again, until it opens and Brett comes flying out and into my arms. His face was wet with tears.

"Get the fuck back here you son of a bitch!" Jason stops and looks at me. "What the fuck do you want?" He asked full of rage.

"I've come for Brett."

"Fuck off!" He shouts. "He's fucked everything up because of a damn party and I bet my ass you're involved!" Brett hid his face in my chest and that protective instinct took over. I wrapped my arms around his shaking body and stepped back with him a few feet.

"Don't ever touch him."

"Or what? You going to get your pathetic daddy onto me?"

"You're so full of shit Jason, I don't give a damn what sort of problem you have with my dad, it's none of my business," I hissed out. "But Brett's my best friend, so if you ever touch him again, I'll kill you." His face morphs and twists into an evil grin.

"Take the shit with you, I don't want to see him right now."

"Gladly you asshole," with my arm still wrapped tight around Brett, I usher us both down the steps. "Come on, let's go to mine." His front door slams shut and Brett starts to sob, so I carefully walked us both back into mine. "I got you."

"He...he hit me." I felt the fury spread through my veins. That fucking asshole. Once he gets going he doesn't know when to stop. I've seen it many times. I've had Brett at mine in tears many times because of that useless abusive father. I hate my dad and my dad hates me just as much but not once has he ever raised a hand at me, he wouldn't fucking dare either.

Once in my room I sat Brett on my bed and kneel in front of him to inspect him. His lip was fat and bleeding. That fucker can see his nose is busted but he went for his face anyway. "I...I'm sorry." He choked.

"You're here, I'll look after you."

He turned away from me and slapped my hand away. "I don't need you," he bit. "I don't."

"Brett…"

"Stop! Cope, just stop." I remembered I stashed a bottle of my dad's liquor in my cabinet and grabbed for it. Unscrewing the lid I passed it to Brett and he snatched it away and down some, then winced from the cut on his lip.

"You're staying here," I tell him, snatching the bottle back. "You both need to cool off," I said, stripping away my top and boots. He strips off his hoodie and shirt, leaving him in just his track pants. It's been a while since we were two boys running around shirtless in my room. He's filled out, nicely. "Nice pecs," I tease pinching one of his hardened muscles.

He cracks a crooked smile. "Some of us aren't lazy asses."

"You don't get these, from being lazy." I said, curling my arms to show off my biceps, then go back to staring at him.

"What?" He looked perplexed.

"Nothing," I mutter. He's right, I'm too lazy to do any actual weight training to obtain oblique muscles like his, but I still envy them. "It's just funny, really."

He stares at me, our stubborn standoffs are ones I actually miss. Finally, he relents. His fingers rake through his hair and he lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm gay, okay?" His brown eyes lift to mine and they search my gaze as though I’ll ridicule him for it.

"Are you going to see Dante again?"

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. "Maybe."

"Be careful. Uncloseted gays like him are usually a closet dick."

"Back off, Cope."

"I’m just saying that you should find someone better." I bite out.

"I found someone better," he hisses. "But God was cruel and made him incapable of loving me back. So second best will have to do."

 "I see." A surge of pride burns through me at him admitting I’m his first choice. Even if I can’t reciprocate. The competitive side of me roars with happiness. It just sucks that he looks so damn sad about it. I almost wish I were gay just to show him I’m a much better kisser than Dante could ever dream of being. 

While he flops down on my bed, I fumble with my window to crack it open. Ashley is usually the instigator whenever I would smoke, so I haven't picked it up today without her influence. Yet now...with Brett back in my room, pissed at his dad, looking much different from boys, I needed a smoke. He watches me from the bed, the tequila bottle cradled at his side like a football, and wearing a frown of disapproval. "Smoking?"

I pull a cigarette from the packet and put it between my lips. "Yeah, so?" I ask, the cigarette bobbing as I speak.

"I always thought it was more your girlfriend than you."

"Ex, girlfriend." I grab a lighter from the end of my table and light it as I watch Brett. I suck in deep inhalation of much needed nicotine. I blow a plume of smoke as my eyes skim down his chest. No wonder Dante wanted to get into his pants. I mean, I'm not gay and even I can appreciate his perfect male form. "Remember that time we decided to whack off to that porno when we were like fourteen?"

He laughs and takes another mouthful of the tequila. The liquid went down his throat making his adam's apple bob. I find myself fixated on the action.

"Your nanny went crazy, she was pissed as hell." He says, still grinning.

"She yelled at us in Spanish for over an hour." Memories of my old nanny catching us beating off to porn is still hilarious to this day.

I walk over and take the bottle from him, his eyes filled with humor. I flip on the television switching through channels until I find something stupid, but definitely porny. I keep it muted, because my music is better than fake moaning on the TV. Glancing down at Brett, I find his eyes still fixed on me, his body relaxed from the liquor. "That day," I utter, as I switched the light off in my room. "That day was after you knew you wanted me. So was It me or the straight porn that got you hard?" I made a pointed stare at his dick that was straining his track pants.

"Uh, you." His voice is raspy and deep. I expected him to bullshit me some more, but he's being truthful.

"So I'm basically porn to you?"

He laughs. "I'll never live this crap down, will I? You'll tease me about this for the rest of time." Instead of being worried, he's happy.

Truth is, I'm happy too. I may have been furious at what he did, but my life has been missing a huge piece since we stopped talking.

"Now that I'm not pissed over it, it's kind of funny." I admit, I gesture to the big tittied blonde on the TV. "The nanny isn't here anymore, to bust us…."

His eyes burned into me, the light from the television flickered over his face. "You've lost your mind."

"No," I tell him with a smirk. "I recently broke up with my girlfriend and I need to whack off," I nod to the blonde. "I have her," we lock eyes again. "And you have me. So use your hand and don't make this weird."

He snorts. "Dude, you made this weird suggesting it." But instead of denying my words, he palms himself over his track pants. My dick thumps in my pants, eager to come.

I unbutton my top button and Brett sucks in a breath of air. I may not be into guys, but the fact he looks like a lion ready to feast on me has heat burning through me. The thought of him staring at Dante that way is infuriating.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I concentrate on the girl getting pounded from behind. I'm tempted to look back at Brett, especially when I hear the distinct sound of his pants being pushed down his body. I focus on the couple and unzip my jeans and push my own pants down, when my dick springs free, he lets out a groan.

My eyes darted back to his, curious to see his expression. Brown eyes burn into me as he fists his dick. Licking my lips, I look back at the screen. I stroke my own dick as I watch the couple, trying desperately to ignore the pleasing sounds coming from him. He groans again, stealing my attention. The way he grips his dick and pulls at it in a reverent way has me ignoring the television altogether. On the screen, it's fake and for entertainment. Brett, in my damn bed, jerks off in a way that's incredibly real. He's completely turned on by me. And oddly enough, that turns me on more than the shit on television. I may be straight, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying the way he watches me.

"God, I've missed you." He mutters, his hot stare burning a hole through me.

I close my eyes and realize how close I am. Stepping up to the bed until my knees touch the side, I find the willpower to open my eyes. He's directly below me, watching me as if I'm a powerful god he wants to worship. It's exhilarating and empowering. I groan out as my nuts seize up. We both watched with fascination as I jerked myself until my release was shooting at him. His palm runs through the mess on his stomach, and then he curls his wet palm around his dick. He hisses through his teeth and I can only stare. I watch in shock as he uses my come to whack himself into an orgasm. The moment he comes, his back arches and he bares his protruding adam's apple in his throat.

As soon as the moment fades, disgust at myself begins to spread like oil on a lake. I hurry to pull up my pants, hating the way my neck heats in shame. "Your nanny would have beat our asses over that one," he says, his voice husky.

It washes some of the awkwardness and I laugh. "I'll be in the shower, you can use the one down the hall." It's not until I'm under the spray of hot water that I let it sink in. We masturbated together. Certainly not the first time either.

I should feel more regret.

Yet, I don't.

What I did felt like something foreign. A burning deep inside me. Like my body's craving something desperately.

No.

I shake my head, but my dick is already hardening again. Closing my eyes, I use the memory of Ashley's naked body as I stroke myself, but she fades so easily.

Poof.

And I quietly stroke myself to a more recent memory. Pecs. Obliques. Abs. Dick. Everything is so hard.

Damn you, Brett.

Damn you for planting this seed.

I groaned and it was then I realized I whispered his name under my breath.

I'm in big fucking trouble.