Brad & Nick

Chapter seven: drunk and disorderly

" Fuck! Fuck! ," I moaned as I slid my hands faster up my shaft, my eyes locked on the picture of Brad and I at the beach from last summer. I was a fucking hypocrite. Before when I said that Brad and I fooling around meant nothing, I was lying to myself. I was looking pretty pathetic at this point. I was sitting in my room, jerking myself off to half-naked photos of Brad. The worst thing about it all was that I couldn't get a couple of nights ago out of my mind. Neither could my body for that matter. I wanted Brad, and I wanted him bad.

The worst thing about it was that everything was clearly awkward between us now. I hated staying away from Brad. He was my best friend even if every time I looked at him, all I could think about was fooling around with him. Brad pretended as if nothing happened. Maybe it didn't mean anything.

I mean maybe I was just horny.

"Nick," Dylan called out to me as I walked down the hallway. "Can we talk?"

I stopped in my tracks, glancing behind me. " Yeah, what's up?"

Beside the fact that I almost screwed your boyfriend who is also my bestest friend in the entire universe after confessing to him that I was basically raped by Troy, and in turn couldn't fuck my own boyfriend. If that even makes any sense at all.

"I know you probably think that I've been really mean to Brad lately," Dylan said fumbling with his hands. "But it's just a little punishment. I'm over it, really. But Brad's birthday is in a couple of days, and I was wondering if you'd want to help me organize a little something for him. Maybe a surprise birthday dinner."

I nodded. "Yeah sure. I can help with that."

"Help with what?" Brad appeared wrapping his arm around Dylan for a second. Dylan quickly interjected, playing it off rather smoothly. "Nick is helping me practice some soccer drills."

Brad sucked his teeth. "Oh so the master has finally become the student. My little baby is growing up."

Brad patted me on the back. I narrowed my eyes at him as the bell chimed. Brad and I both had health class. He quickly kissed Dylan on the lips, before walking with me to class.

"So about last weekend," I began, but Brad stopped me.

"It was nothing, Nick," Brad retorted. "It was just us screwing around. Don't worry about it. It's happened plenty of times before. It was harmless, bro."

I laughed it off. "Yeah, I know. I just didn't want you dreaming about me too much."

"Oh I dream about you all the time, babe," Brad winked. "You, me, Dylan, and Sam – one big fat orgy. How is Sam by the way? Still pissed."

"He hasn't called or texted me since," I sighed as Brad and I took a seat in the back. Mrs. Compton just stared at the two of us, shaking her head, before she walked to the front of the board. It was safe to say that she wasn't a fan of the Brad and Nick duo. She had separated us last week for giggling like a bunch of yahoos in the back. Those were her words not mine.

"Today class," Mrs. Compton began. "We will be talking about safe sex. How to be safe, how to properly protect yourself, and how to prevent STDS and teen pregnancy. So can anyone tell me the best way to prevent teen pregnancy? Anyone?"

I groaned as soon as Chip raised his hand. "Blowjobs."

Everyone laughed. Chip could be such a chum sometimes. I rolled my eyes as Becca raised her hand, saying something along the lines of "doing it in the butt." That made Brad smirk. Thankfully Mrs. Compton stopped calling on people. She clearly had enough of our "childish" answers, and answered the question herself.