Real(ity) Estate, pt. 1 (Patreon)

“I still can’t believe you got this place for so cheap,” Dylan said, giving an approving nod as he folded his burly arms under his chest.  With his wide, dimpled chin and boy-next-door features the copper-haired young man looked perfectly at home in the old farm house.  His powerful torso strained against the thin cotton of his small t-shirt, and his tight denim practically begged for a coating of dirt and grass stains.

Cole shrugged.  “I mean, you see it, right?”  The wiry blonde motioned to the water stained ceilings and the floral-patterned paper peeling off the walls around them.  Below their feet the wooden floors were worn and pitted from a century of furniture being dragged across them, while the attic above had birthed a thousand generations of mice and birds.

Cole had been told to look for a house with good bones.  It was his first, no small feat for a twenty five year old, and everyone from his parents to his real estate agent had been quick to point out that as long as the foundation was there, he could always fix it up and flip it in a few years.  After almost two centuries the stately farmhouse still had a surprisingly solid skeleton; it was just the flesh and organs that were rotting away.

Not that Cole had plans to move again any time soon.  The corpse of a house was everything he’d been looking for and then some.  The first floor had a long, narrow kitchen connected at one end to a spacious living and dining room that wrapped around past a large screened-in porch before joining with a small study.  The study then led to a cavernous bathroom that completed the circuit at the opposite end of the kitchen.  At the edge of the dining room was a steep, tight staircase that led up to the second floor landing, from which three spacious bedrooms fanned out.

It was a simple layout, but Cole had instantly fallen in love with the antique architecture and the detailed flourishes.  Doorways were arched, intricate trim lined the tops of the walls, the built-in cabinets in the living room had colorful stained glass windows, there was an old wood-burning stove, and the entire house was filled with odd angles and unique cubbies.  It oozed with both personality and potential, and that didn’t even factor in the exterior.  A small deck sat off the kitchen, and the house itself was tucked away from the street, butting up against the thicket of woods that had replaced the formerly sprawling farmland.  And while the yard was just as overgrown as the interior was dilapidated, it no less lacked in potential.  Cole had immediate visions of sprawling gardens and nights spent around a bonfire, secluded enough to have privacy from his neighbors but not so remote that he’d become a recluse.

Dylan nodded, his enthusiasm undampened.  “So it’s old and a little rundown.  Big deal.  We can fix that,” he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.  “How long was she sitting empty?”

Cole shook his head.  “No clue.  Even my realtor couldn’t find out exactly.  She said it was something weird about the trust that owns the place and them being hard to get in touch with.  It’s been empty for as long as she’s been in the field, though, and that’s been twenty years now.”

“Damn,” Dylan whistled.  “Just more for me to play with.”

“I’m glad one of us is looking forward to it,” Cole sighed, his expression falling.  “I’m starting to feel like I maybe bit off more than I can chew.”

“Dude, no way!”  The brawny man darted forward for an attempted headlock, but the wiry blonde sidestepped with the kind of practiced ease that only came from years of experience.  Dylan was a physical creature through and through, and Cole had long ago learned what the bigger man’s version of cheering up looked like.  Either way, it had the intended effect of bringing his friend’s smile back.  “For real, this isn’t that bad.  Since you’ve got my undivided attention we’ll have her sparkling in no time.”  Dylan hesitated for a moment, looking uncharacteristically bashful.  “Seriously man, I super appreciate the assist.  With the factory closing I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“Start an OnlyFriends?”  Cole danced away from a meaty arm again, though he’d only been half-joking.  Growing up, Dylan had always been the pretty-boy, and that hadn’t changed since reaching adulthood.  While Cole had gone off to school to pursue a career in business the strapping stud had gone straight to work, the physical nature of his jobs only enhancing his already-impressive physique.  After years of trying, Dylan had finally been lucky enough to land a union gig at the nearby factory, only for the owners to relocate the operation overseas a few months later.  And while he did contracting work on the side, he’d been scraping by ever since.  He’d just been kicked out of his apartment, so when Cole moved back and needed someone to fix up his new house the timing was perfect for both of them.  Dylan had a place to crash for a while and Cole could pay him to do the repairs while he was at work.  “Honestly I’m glad you’re here for more than just the renovations.  House this old is kind of creepy when I’m here by myself.”

Dylan tapped a knuckle against a nearby wall.  “They feel that way when they’ve been sitting empty.  You’re barely moved in...just give it some time.  It’ll wake back up.”

Cole wasn’t sure he wanted the house to wake up.  He didn’t think of himself as superstitious or as someone who believed in things like ghosts, but his unease went deeper than mere age.  There were things about the house that didn’t make sense.  Dylan was right in that the damage was mostly cosmetic, and given the current housing market there was no reason such a gem should have been sitting empty for so long.  Cole kept waiting for the big reveal, for the massive expense that they just hadn’t found yet, but the house somehow put on a good show for every inspector who looked at it.  Throw in the secluded placement on the sprawling property and there was absolutely no reason that someone shouldn't have snatched it up over the course of several decades.  The bit about some mysterious “trust” and the lack of any information regarding the real owners rang quiet alarms in dusty corners of his brain, even more so since he’d started having the dreams.  Cole hadn’t mentioned those to Dylan yet.  He still wasn’t sure what to make of them himself.  The analytic blonde normally didn’t even remember his dreams, but ever since moving in his nights had been filled with vivid, surreal voyages.

He’d wake up in his bed only to find himself in a massive, sprawling version of the house, as if countless copies had been mashed together.  Stepping out onto the landing he’d discover that instead of three bedrooms upstairs there were dozens and dozens, all piled on top of and next to each other, while the first floor blossomed in a similar manner.  Each was furnished in a different style that seemed to stretch both backward and forward in time.  Antique furniture that looked freshly built sat next to modern pieces that themselves butted up against technology the likes of which Cole had never seen before.  He would actually get lost as he wandered, quickly losing track of where he’d come from while the house unfolded in seemingly every direction.

It was made all the more disorienting by the strange crowd that came with the extra rooms.  The modest house was like a bustling city filled with people of all shapes and sizes, though he couldn’t make out any of their faces.  Following that same dream logic, many of those faceless people had shapes and sizes that shouldn’t have been possible.  The proportions were all wrong - some people were either incredibly short or incredibly tall, some were overly muscled, or at least parts of them were, while others were small and slender.  Several had even more extreme characteristics, though while Cole stopped and stared, they all appeared oblivious to anyone else, passing through him and each other like ghosts as he wandered.  At first Cole was glad that no one seemed to notice his brief-clad state, but eventually he stopped thinking about it altogether.  The toned blonde wasn’t shy about his tight body or stuffed bulge, and many of the disproportionate people wore the same or significantly less.  His bare feet padding across the worn floorboards for what seemed like miles, it all felt surprisingly natural.  Like he was at home.  With all the people coming and going Cole kept thinking of the enlarged house like a busy train terminal.  But the night he finally made his way to the front porch, he discovered that a starship was the more appropriate comparison.

Like the rest of the house the glassed-in room had expanded considerably, but it was what lay beyond the many windows that caught the stunned young man’s attention.  Instead of a wide lawn Cole found himself looking out on a vast, swirling cosmos.  Rainbow-hued nebulas hung far off in the star-peppered distance, while titanic shadows lurked at the edges.  At first Cole thought the massive shapes were merely a trick of the light.  They dwarfed the cloudy galaxies slowly spinning before them, looming on a scale of size that the young man’s mind could barely comprehend.  And then they moved.  Not with a controlled, natural orbit like the stars and planets, but in a way that suggested sentient intention.  It suddenly occurred to Cole that he wasn’t looking upon outer space, at least not in the way he knew it, but somewhere else altogether more terrifying.  These weren’t familiar stars and friendly constellations; they were horrid and menacing.  In that instant Cole knew he was seeing something not meant for human eyes, as if he’d somehow stumbled between the cracks in reality.

He’d woken up screaming.  That particular nightmare had just occurred the previous evening, and the anxious blonde hoped it wouldn’t repeat itself now that Dylan was here.  To stave off the chance Cole kept his friend up late that night.  They walked through the house and put together a to-do list, separating the repairs that needed to be made right away from the ones that were just cosmetic.  Cole was happy at the daunting length of the list, not wanting Dylan to leave any time soon.  It wasn’t just that he was comforted by his friend’s presence; he was feeling an affection for the other man that took him by surprise.  Cole blamed it on his desperation and the fact that they hadn’t seen enough of each other over the last few years due to school and work, but he was surprised by just how much he wanted to be around his friend.  That feeling seemed to be reciprocated as they lay shoulder-to-shoulder in the grass, drinking beer and looking up at the expansive night sky until well after midnight.

“Guess we should call it a night.”

“Huh?  Wha...why’re we outside…” Cole mumbled, his eyes struggling open to see a grinning Dylan looking down at him.  He blinked a few times as he forced himself to sit up, his groggy brain eventually catching up.  “Fuck me, dude.  Sorry about that.  I haven’t been sleeping so great...didn’t mean to pass out on you.”

“Come on, princess.  Let’s get you to bed,” Dylan said, reaching down to pull Cole to his feet.  The wiry blonde stumbled, his balance thrown off by both the unexpected sleep and the several beers which had preceded it.  Dylan just laughed and threw an arm around his waist for support, holding his friend close as he guided the sleepy man up the stairs to his bedroom.

Cole was caught off guard by how much he loved the sensation of Dylan pressed against him.  He had an arm thrown over his friend’s broad back, and the other man’s hand on his waist was firm and comforting.  When they finally stumbled into his room, Cole didn’t actually want Dylan to let go.  The copper-haired hunk gingerly deposited him on the edge of the bed, but instead of leaving it there he reached down and grabbed the bottom of Cole’s t-shirt.  The toned blonde raised his arms instinctively, a strange thrill running through him as the shirt was pulled free.  That thrill grew stronger when Dylan gently pushed him back onto the bed and reached down to begin undoing his shorts.  Cole didn’t try to stop him.  He just smiled sleepily, lifting his hips when Dylan pulled so the shorts could be stripped free.

“There we go...all tucked in,” the big man said as he pulled the covers up over his friend.  There was a softness to his smile that Cole wasn’t used to seeing.  This wasn’t actually the first time one of them had drunkenly put the other to bed, but before there’d always been an element of macho posturing that went with it.  Now, that facade was entirely absent as Dylan leaned down and gave Cole a quick peck on his forehead.  The sleepy blonde wanted to point it out, or to at least make a joke out of it, but the last thing he remembered before darkness took him was the odd thought that Dylan’s lips were surprisingly soft against his forehead.

That thought was still rattling around his brain when he opened his eyes what felt like only moments later, though the dim sunlight shining through his uncurtained windows told him otherwise.  His heart was racing, and he was customarily tense and anxious as he’d been every morning since moving in.  He knew he’d had another one of the dreams, but the details were blissfully beyond recollection.

Cole didn’t try to dig them up.  Instead, he considered himself lucky as he hopped out of bed, stretching the sleep from his lean frame before heading downstairs to begin making breakfast.  He was stepping into the kitchen before it occurred to him that he was still only clad in his small black briefs, but he didn’t turn around to put anything else on.  It was nothing that Dylan hadn’t seen countless times before, or even as recently as the prior evening.  Cole’s stomach fluttered again at the memory of his friend’s strong hands brushing against his bulge as he’d been disrobed, unsure why the sensation stood out so prominently in his mind.  He’d always known how handsome Dylan was, but he’d never felt the weight of those charming features and ample muscle before, not until his friend had turned their full force in his direction the way he had last night.

“Didn’t know breakfast was included in this arrangement.”

Cole was still trying to wrap his head around everything when a sleepy Dylan lumbered into the room.  He looked over his shoulder from the stove, his eyes immediately dropping to the hefty bulge in the other man’s tiny red boxer-briefs.  Coupled with Dylan’s meaty thighs and muscled rear the underwear fit more like the briefs Cole wore, accentuating the burly man’s tapering torso as they rode low on his trim hips.  The red fabric brought out the russet hues in the wiry fur that snaked up Dylan’s firm abs before spreading out in a light dusting across the other man’s plump pecs, matching the stubble on his lantern jaw.  “Can’t fix this place up on an empty stomach,” Cole said, his tone chipper.  He was hit with a surprising wave of eagerness as Dylan approached, not stepping up next to him at the counter, but behind him.

“Can do some other things, though,” the bigger man purred, wrapping his arms around the blonde’s waist and resting his chin on a broad shoulder.

“Mmmm…” Cole sighed and leaned into the embrace as Dylan’s hands began gliding up and down his defined torso.  This was his favorite way to start the day.  He loved the way the brawny man’s stubble scratched at his neck, and the feeling of Dylan’s hairy shelf pressing into his smooth back.  Knowing what was coming, Cole shut off the burner so they wouldn’t destroy their breakfast as Dylan’s stubble-covered chin turned into a pair of supple lips working their way up to his ear.  Feeling the growing rigidity in his friend’s underwear, Cole began pressing back with his perky bubble, grinding the firm little cheeks until Dylan’s fat log had reached full mast.  His own cock was quickly catching up, shooting to its full six inches when the other man’s hand slipped into his briefs and fished the twitching organ free.  It wasn’t as big as Dylan’s thick eight-incher, but it didn’t need to be.  Not for what each of them wanted.  “Fffuuuuuuuucckkkk…” Cole groaned, squirming in Dylan’s grasp when his friend’s other hand pushed the back of his briefs down and a pair of fingers found their way inside the blonde’s confusingly eager hole.  The familiar pressure coupled with the other man’s hot breath on his neck was like a security blanket, a sensation that Cole never wanted to end.  The few seconds between Dylan’s fingers exiting and his friend’s fat club entering were excruciating, though the brief agony only enhanced the following ecstasy.  Cole whimpered and fell forward on the counter, throwing his hips back in a practiced rhythm that matched Dylan’s thrusting.

“God...goddamn, babe...you’re on...fire this morning…” Dylan grunted.

Cole giggled and pursed his lips as he looked back at the other man.  “Don’t act like you don’t know what you...you do...to me…?”  The blonde’s laughter dried up, his amused expression turning into one of pure shock.  Looking back at Dylan and actually watching as the other man pumped away, he was suddenly aware of how wrong their actions were.  Despite what his body told him, Cole knew that none of it should be happening.  The burly hunk shouldn’t want to be fucking him anymore than he should be wanting him to.  Cole didn’t know why it had all felt so natural and familiar, or why he was still popping his hips even after the spell should have been broken.  “Dylan?  Dude!  What...what are we doing?!”

“What’s it look like...sweetie…” Dylan trailed off, blinking.  He shook his head, his eyes going wide as he looked down and saw himself thrusting in and out of his friend.  “Oh fuck!  Shit man...I’m sorry!  What’re we...what am I...what the fuck is happening?!  Should I...do you want me to stop?”

“I don’t...I don’t know!” Cole whimpered, still clutching the counter and working his firm little cheeks around the invading organ.

The muscles in Dylan’s jaw popped as the bigger man clenched his teeth, letting out a low groan.  “‘Bout to be a...moot point if you...keep doing...thauuunnngg…!”  Wide eyes still locked, Dylan fell over the edge and unloaded inside his stunned friend.  Cole gasped and tensed, his own untouched cock following suit moments later.  The release was secondary to the blissful spattering of Dylan’s warm fluids against his insides, the potent explosion a reminder of their intimate connection.

Cole shook his head at the thought, resisting the urge to give in to the creeping familiarity.  He reminded himself that, up until moments ago, he and Dylan didn’t have any more intimate a connection than any pair of straight friends did.  He caught his breath, wishing he knew why he so enjoyed the sensation of the other man’s cum leaking out of him and gliding down towards the briefs that were still stretched around his thighs.  It never even occurred to him that he should cover his softening organ, or that he shouldn’t be reaching out to grasp Dylan’s hand.  “What...what just happened?”