Spring Broken, pt. 1 (Patreon)

Dylan knew he should have been embarrassed, but he was too panicked to care.  It wasn’t the first time Charlie had seen him either naked or hard, that had essentially become a daily tradition for the roommates, though the dark-haired hunk normally didn’t ask his friend to inspect his rigid cock.  “I’m telling you, man…it’s smaller!”

Charlie hopped up from his seated position at the edge of the bed so Dylan’s aching member wouldn’t be as uncomfortably close to his face.  “Come on, bro.  It’s too early for this,” he yawned, showing off the impressive definition on his sculpted torso as he stretched.  The groggy ginger was every bit as built as his olive-hued friend, sporting a pair of broad shoulders, powerful arms, and overdeveloped pecs, the latter of which looking all the larger as they loomed above a trim, tapering washboard.  But that didn’t mean Charlie ignored his lower half despite favoring Chest Day, leaving his thin knit boxers hugging a pair of meaty thighs and a solid bubble.  The biggest differences between himself and Dylan were in their faces, his own boy-next-door charm versus the naked stud’s sharp, statuesque edges, and in the way the ginger jock kept his pale pink frame shaved smooth compared to his friend’s ebony dusting.  As the well-outlined cock in his boxers would attest, Charlie was even hung the same, adding to his confusion over Dylan’s panicked state.  “I can’t believe I’m saying this on the first morning of our spring break, but it looks the same to me.”

“What?  Are you blind?!”  Dylan’s abs tensed as he thrust his cock forward and wagged the solid organ before wrapping a fist around it for emphasis.  “I know my own dick, dude.  It’s smaller,” he insisted.

Charlie reached out and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, his annoyance fading when he saw the genuine fear in Dylan’s eyes.  The sculpted stud was normally calm and collected, his attitude straddling the line between “confident” and “arrogant”, especially when it came to his impressive physique.  “You’re just jetlagged, man,” he said, caught off guard by the other man’s insecurity.  “We stayed out way too late on the boardwalk last night, and then both of us cramming into one queen bed didn’t help.”

“Being tired doesn’t make my dick shrink,” Dylan grumbled.  “I thought that’s all it was too!  I thought I just needed to wake up in the shower, but…but then it…” he trailed off, his sharp, stubble-covered cheeks going red.  “Believe me, bro.  I know how crazy this sounds.”

Charlie sighed and shrugged, taking a step back when his friend’s cock batted against the front of his boxers.  “We don’t really have an easy way to check, do we?  I didn’t think to pack a tape-measure,” he chuckled.  “You’re just going to have to trust meeEEE…HEY!” he yelped when Dylan’s hands shot forward without warning.  Before the stunned ginger could respond, his boxers were at his ankles and the other man was tugging on his rapidly hardening cock.  “Dude!  Not cool,” Charlie spat, his whole body going crimson.  He was too surprised to even think to pull away, and it had already become a moot point as he’d reached full mast.  With anyone else he would have been furious, but this sort of horseplay wasn’t entirely abnormal for the two of them, though usually it happened when they were drunk and not first thing in the morning.  “I guess that’s one way to do it.  See?  Same size, just like always.”

The dark-haired hunk blinked at the matched-length members in silence for a moment, his thick brows furrowing.  “But…but I should be…bigger,” he stammered, his heart racing when he realized he still had his friend’s cock in his hand.  Even then he didn’t let go, too focused on the voice in his head that kept telling him he should have eight inches, not six.

“You wish, dude,” Charlie said, giving Dylan a playful shove.  “Being the ‘pretty’ one doesn’t automatically give you a bigger piece.”

Dylan didn’t know what to say.  He knew with every fiber of his being that he was right, that his girthy club actually had shrunk, but the more he thought about it, the more he listened to Charlie, the less he could cling to that certainty.  “But…I know I…I…” he trailed off and shook his head, his broad shoulders slumping.  “I guess I don’t know what I thought,” he sighed, finally turning away.

“Uh, excuse me,” Charlie said, reaching out to give Dylan’s muscled globes a quick swat.  “You’re just going to get me all worked up and then leave me hanging?”

Dylan’s striking features went sheepish, his arm flexing as he reached up and ran a hand through his short, raven hair.  “Yeah…sorry about that.  It was a little uncalled for, wasn’t it?  You want the bathroom first to take care of things?”

“Me?  You’re leaving it up to me,” Charlie scoffed with mock offense.  “No way, bro.”  Before Dylan could react, the redhead hurled himself at his friend, sending them both sprawling onto the bed.  The frame groaned under their weight and the headboard slammed against the wall as the naked jocks writhed on top of each other, with Charlie eventually pinning Dylan beneath him.  The strapping ginger straddled his friend’s chest and batted his cock against the prone stud’s face, rolling his hips to drag his balls across the other man’s soft, plump lips.  They’d done this sort of thing to each other before as a prank, but usually the intended target was asleep at the time.  “Getting a good look,” Charlie asked.  “Let me know if I should bring it cloOOOHHH!  Whoa!  Dude!  What…what’re you…” he sputtered, his eyes going wide at the unexpected sensation of Dylan’s warm tongue running along the underside of his balls.

For his part, the olive-hued hunk was equally surprised by the impulse.  Dylan didn’t know where it came from, only that his heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d had Charlie’s cock in his hand.  His struggles had been half hearted when the other man flung him onto the bed, and now, with his head boxed in by his friend’s thighs, escape was the last thing on his mind.  He reached up and gripped Charlie’s muscled bubble, kneading the solid globes as he eagerly mouthed the churning orbs.  He’d never done anything like it, he’d never even thought about it, but now that he’d started he never wanted to stop.

“Fu…fuck, dude…I was just kidding,” Charlie grunted with an awkward laugh.  “But, I mean…if you insist,” he said, shivering at the unfamiliar sensation of a strong, scruffy jaw scratching against such a sensitive area.  He writhed in place as Dylan gave his furry balls a tongue bath, his surprise turning into a smug superiority when the other man began licking at the underside of his shaft.  He scooted back to give his friend better access to his leaking tip, but after a few moments of Dylan awkwardly craning his neck he flopped over onto his back to make it easier for the other man.  The dark-haired jock wasted no time taking advantage of his improved position, eagerly impaling his pretty face on the ginger’s aching rod.  “Didn’t think the first person to suck my dick on this trip would be you, dude,” he laughed, watching Dylan’s broad shoulders and strong back flex as his friend’s head bobbed.  “You’re settin’ a…high…bar…too…” he groaned, his fingers clutching the sheets as he rocketed towards the edge.  “Oh fuck…oh fuck…bro…I’m gonna…”

Dylan’s head spun as Charlie’s copious load splashed against the back of his throat.  The feeling of the warm, salty fluid filling his mouth and spilling out around the other man’s invading organ suddenly made everything real, bringing their actions into focus with crystal clarity.  Dylan was no less aroused, but he was at least able to recognize how confusing that arousal was, and how out of place it should have been.  For both of them.  Even if he’d been able to wrap his head around his own actions, it didn’t make sense that Charlie so casually went along with it.  As horny as his friend could be, there should have been some measure of resistance or surprise, not such an eager embracing of the olive-hued hunk’s uncharacteristic behavior.  It was as impossible as his shrunken cock, which, at least for the moment, Dylan was once again certain actually had changed, regardless of what Charlie said.

The slurping stud felt his whole body flush when he pulled his face away and finally met the ginger’s gaze, trying not to think about how much cum was coating his wide chin.  “Uh…wow.  That was…guess I got carried away,” he sputtered, his own cock still throbbing so hard it felt like it would shoot off his body.

“What else is new,” Charlie chuckled.  He kicked his leg over Dylan and rolled off the bed, giving his friend an unobstructed view of his bare, ample globes as he strutted over to the bathroom.  “I don’t mean to be selfish, but you’re kind of on your own with that,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at the other man’s oozing organ.

Dylan’s head swam with images of his naked friend as he fell onto his back and began pumping.  His mouth still tingled, the taste of Charlie lingering on his tongue as he pictured the ginger in the shower.  The cock in his hand still felt smaller than it should as he pumped, but already the certainty that Dylan had just felt was beginning to fade.  Nor did he understand what Charlie had meant when he’d said “what else is new” since, technically, it all should have been new.  However, none of that mattered to Dylan’s throbbing member as it finally erupted, blasting all over his furry, chiseled pecs and adding a fresh splattering of his own to his crusty chin.  He finished wiping himself down just as Charlie reemerged from the small, steamy bathroom, a fresh wave of aroused insecurity washing over him at what should have been the familiar sight of his friend’s naked frame.  “So, can we, uh, just not talk about what happened here this morning,” he asked, trying to reclaim some of his former swagger.

“Should I be offended that you’re ashamed of me,” Charlie cooed as he skipped his boxers and went straight for a pair of aqua swim trunks the same size.  The plan was to spend the day either on the beach or strolling along the boardwalk, so the rest of his outfit consisted only of a loose pink muscle shirt and flip flops.  The scooping neck and open sides of the top essentially rendered it pointless, a fact that Dylan tried hard not to think about as he donned a similar uniform.

“Vacation rules.  What happens here, stays here,” the dark-haired man said as he slipped into a pair of purple trunks and an orange tank-top.

Charlie gave his friend’s plump cheeks a squeeze as they headed for the door, raising a ruddy eyebrow.  “Happens,” he asked, emphasizing the last letter.  “Not happened?  As in there’s more to come?”

Dylan’s crimson face betrayed him even as he tried to sound smug.  “You wish,” he grunted, his sculpted chest expanding when they stepped out onto the walkway and he took in a deep lungful of the salty sea air.  The ratty seaside motel was the best they could afford as broke college students, but they weren’t planning on spending much time in the room.

“I do, actually,” Charlie said, nodding.  “I wasn’t kidding…that mouth is fuckin’ incredible.”

“Dude!  What did I just say?!” Dylan yelped, frantically looking around to see if anyone might have overheard.

Fortunately there was no one around, and Charlie seemed content to let it drop for the moment.  Now out of the room and amongst the crowd, things fell back into their normal routine for the pair.  They grabbed some breakfast to go and took their time doing a lap of the boardwalk, taking note of the various boutiques and souvenir shops before heading out onto the beach, where the pair alternated between romping in the waves and people watching on the sand.  Try as he might, Dylan kept finding his eyes wandering to Charlie, who caught him nearly every time, but whenever he looked away they’d inevitably drift towards the nearest male flesh.  He’d force them away in search of the softest, curviest frame he could find, but before he even realized it he was back to staring at a hard, solid frame.

Dylan blamed the bizarre behavior in part to his distracted state, and to the growing anxiety he’d felt ever since they’d passed the automated fortune teller’s booth.  It still bore the “Out of Order” sign he’d ignored the night before when he’d drunkenly slipped a five-dollar bill in and then slapped its side when nothing happened, resulting in a fortune that had been total gibberish.  Dylan wasn’t expecting much, but “1 = 2 and 2=4, it won’t be long until you’re hungry for more,” followed by “1, 1, 2, 2, 1” on the bottom of the little card felt like a let down.  He didn’t know if the odd statement was the reason the machine was supposedly out of commission, nor did he really care.  He’d been drunk and wanting a spooky fortune, or at least the equivalent of a fortune cookie, not a riddle.  He actually had been startled at the time when the curtains flung open and the mechanical voice came booming out, but he’d forgotten all about it until they’d walked by the ostentatious art deco box on their way to the beach.

Unlike his rattled friend, Charlie paid the automated oracle no mind.  He was far more focused on the way he continually caught Dylan eyeing him, and the way his own thoughts kept drifting back to their encounter that morning.  Normally they maintained a kind of macho equilibrium to their friendship, with neither of them attempting to pull rank over the other, but Charlie was beginning to notice a definite shift in his favor, and it was one he wanted to exploit.  So as the late morning melted into the afternoon, the sun-kissed ginger suggested they head back to the boardwalk and check out some of the shops.  He used the excuse of wanting to get out of the sun for a bit and find a backup pair of trunks, hoping that Dylan wouldn’t suspect anything until it was too late.

When they stepped into one of the crowded little boutiques, Charlie knew he had the other man exactly where he wanted him.  “These are cute,” he said, holding up a pair of bright, tropical print speedos.  The revealing swimwear was roughly the size of a pair of briefs, and he watched a flash of hunger flare in Dylan’s eyes, followed by a faint blushing, as his friend obviously pictured him wearing them.

The dark-haired jock cleared his throat and shrugged.  “I mean, it’s spring break, right?  Might as well go big.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that, ‘cause I meant for you,” Charlie said, his smile growing as his friend’s eyes went wide.

Dylan actually tried to take a step back, but he found himself boxed in by both the tight racks and other shoppers.  “What?!  Uh, sorry dude.  They’re not really my speed.”

“Oh, come on,” Charlie pouted.  “You’ll look fuckin’ sick in ‘em, bro.  And I just thought,” he said, purposely raising his voice, “that after what we did this morning you’d want to look good for me.  I mean, the way you went to town on…”

“Dude!  Knock it off,” Dylan interrupted, frantically looking around again.  Unlike the empty sidewalk outside their motel room there were plenty of people within earshot, and a few heads had turned in their direction.  “You’re already blackmailing me,” he hissed, lowering his voice.

“That’s an ugly word,” Charlie said with mock disappointment.  “It’s not like I wasn’t going to make it worth your while.”

Dylan didn’t know how to respond.  He was mortified and frustrated and turned on all at the same time, his confusion over their objectively odd behavior in no way lessening the excitement he felt at the thought of Charlie’s last statement.  Already, Dylan knew there was a part of himself that would do whatever his friend wanted him to if it meant he could get his hands on the other man again, just like he knew that he’d be doing the exact same thing if their situations had been reversed.  Fucking with each other was their standard operating procedure, and there was apparently no reason for that change simply because one of them suddenly wanted that to become literal.  “I’m holding you to that,” Dylan sighed, surprised by the words even as he snatched the speedo.  He scampered over to a nearby changing room and drew the curtain, feeling a giddy rush despite, or perhaps because of, his embarrassment when he shucked his trunks.  His excitement faded slightly when saw his exposed package, but he was far less certain than he’d been that morning that anything about the eager organ had changed.  It wasn’t overly large nor overly small, sitting squarely in the average range with a perfectly serviceable set of balls dangling below.  And, as Dylan reluctantly discovered, it looked impressively eye-catching bulging out the front of the revealing swimwear.  The low-riding speedo simultaneously accentuated the curves of his perky rear, and while the olive-skinned stud didn’t love the way a noticeable trail of raven hair spilled out from the bottom of his shirt, he didn’t hate the way the tantalizing exposure showed off his entrenched obliques.

The look on Charlie’s face when he reemerged made it immediately clear that the opinion was shared.  “Wow,” the ginger jock whistled, his smug expression going genuinely surprised. “I was…I was not wrong.”

Dylan’s stomach fluttered as they went up to the register.  He tried not to think about the fact that Charlie was buying him sexy swimwear for the sole purpose of enjoying the view, or that the idea made him feel so good in the first place.  He told himself he was just trying to turn the tables on his friend as he leaned into the role for the rest of the day, but it all felt too natural to be a mere “joke.”

As the shopping turned into bar hopping, Dylan found himself purposely standing closer than he needed to, seeking out any excuse for them to touch.  And instead of eyeing the many, many women in the college-age crowd, his gaze continued to land on the other men, if they left Charlie at all.  It reached the point where Dylan knew he was doting, knew he was being all too obvious in his interests, but he couldn’t stop himself, nor could he stop the resentment he felt whenever Charlie’s eyes would wander to a feminine form.  As the addled jock became increasingly buzzed he even resorted to desperate, dancing tactics, making quite a scene when the sculpted stud shimmied and swayed in nothing but the skimpy speedo.  Dylan eventually succeeded in his goal of making Charlie the uncomfortable one, only to have lost sight of the fact that he’d stopped feeling that way himself.

“Dude…those were some impressive moves back there.  How wasted are you right now,” the redhead laughed as he half-carried Dylan to their motel room.  He’d been watching his friend become increasingly sloppy at the last bar, feeling a growing disappointment that the other man was too drunk for him to fulfill his earlier promise.

That disappointment faded as soon as they crossed the threshold and the drunk Adonis miraculously sobered up, an eager grin on his stubble-covered face.  “Not at all,” Dylan purred, shoving Charlie back against the door.  He had his friend’s trunks at his ankles before the redhead could respond, the other man’s cock rapidly swelling in his hand as he pawed at the dangling organ.  “I was just getting impatient.”

“Sneaky, sneaky,” Charlie sighed, his head resting against the door as Dylan pumped him to full mast.  He let himself be tugged over to the bed by his rigid member, obediently raising his arms so his friend could strip him out of his muscle shirt.  “Well?” the ginger jock expectantly asked after a moment of his friend’s silent staring.

“Uh-uh,” Dylan said, shaking his head.  “It’s MY turn to enjoy the view.”

Charlie grinned and scooted back against the headboard, his large, freckled arms flexing as he folded them behind his head.  “Oh really?  Kinda felt like you’ve been doing that all day.”

“Those tan lines say you’ve had more to look at than me,” Dylan grunted, a hand absently sliding down his abs as he nodded at the trunk-shaped patch of pale skin on his friend’s legs.  “That doesn’t seem like a fair…trade…” he trailed off when that hand reached the front of his speedo, a rush of anxiety running through him at what he felt.  The bulge that had filled out the front so nicely suddenly seemed smaller than it should have, again, and that suspicion was confirmed when he pulled the probing mitt away.  Instead of looking full and heavy, Dylan found himself gawking at a noticeably unremarkable lump, and the longer he stared the more he realized it had been feeling off for hours.  His stomach dropped when he thought back to himself at the last bar, and how he must have looked with the subpar equipment on display as he’d gyrated amongst the crowd.  For a moment, Dylan was fully aware that he’d never had to worry about the size of his equipment before, but whether that was because it had always been huge or had always been small he wasn’t sure.

Charlie only added to that confusion.  “Go on…let the little guy out,” he cooed encouragingly.  When Dylan stayed frozen in place he heaved an exaggerated sigh and rolled off the bed, coming up behind his friend to tug the speedo down.  “I get it…making me work for it,” he said, wrapping his arms around the other man’s trim, tapering waist.

Dylan wanted to stammer out another panicked explanation like he had that morning, but, as his cock sprang to life and reached its full four-inch length, the words wouldn’t come.  All he could do was stand and whimper when one of Charlie’s seemingly massive hands swallowed it and started tugging, the ecstatic sensation once again obliterating any sense of certainty on his part.  “Oh…oh fuuuuuuck,” he groaned, feeling like he was melting in the other man’s arms.  Charlie’s other hand found its way to one of his nipples, and it wasn’t until he’d been doing so for several moments that Dylan realized he was grinding his muscled bubble against his friend’s cock with eager abandon.

“You, uh…you trying to tell me something,” the redhead finally asked, his lips brushing against the other man’s ear as he spoke.

Dylan didn’t think he was actually going to say it, he could hardly believe that he was even thinking it, until he heard the words leaving his mouth.  “I…I really want you to fuck me right now,” he whimpered, his eyes wide.  “I know it’s weird, but I can’t help it.  You are so fucking hot I can’t stand…”

“Bro, you’re in luck,” Charlie interrupted, giving Dylan’s wide neck a quick kiss.  “‘Cause I really want to fuck you right now.  Might need you to get me ready, though.”