There’s a long pause, in which I assume Brenden’s walked away. But then he says, very clearly, “You didn’t answer my question.”

What the hell? Is he fucking serious?

A million thoughts fly through my mind in the span of only a few seconds. Thoughts like, Absolutely not, and, He’s my friend, and, We can’t do this, and, It’ll fuck everything up.

But then my dick overrides my brain, and I croak out, “Um. Okay.”

The doorknob turns slowly, then the door cracks open and Brenden’s face appears in the gap. I’m just standing here frozen, slumped sideways against the sink with my hand still on my dick. I can’t let go, because that will leave me even more exposed. As if it’s possible to be any more exposed than this.

What if he somehow didn’t know what I was doing in here? What if he thought I was hurt, and he was only concerned?

Well. If he didn’t know before, he does now. And instead of fleeing, he opens the door all the way, steps inside the bathroom, then closes the door behind him, leaning his back against it. For a few long moments, we stare at each other. Despite the immense awkwardness of the situation, my need to come hasn’t become any less urgent. My dick hasn’t gotten the memo that we should both go into hiding immediately.

Brenden steps closer, and I hold my breath as he reaches out, slowly, slowly. But then his hand moves around me to turn off the tap. Right. Yeah.

My heart is pounding so hard, he must be able to hear it now. He steps back again, and I still haven’t moved. When his eyes deliberately trail down my body, I almost moan. Gaze lifting back up to meet mine, he raises his eyebrows. Like a challenge.

Still not understanding what reality we’re in, I begin to stroke myself again. He steps forward, and I go faster. Then he moves in even closer, the small space of the bathroom putting him right in front of me in only a couple steps. His hand comes to my hip, and I break at the contact.

All self-restraint lost, I grab the side of his face with my free hand and yank him to me, my lips crashing onto his. I kiss him hard as I jerk myself harder. He grabs my bare ass and squeezes, which is embarrassingly all it takes for me to shoot off like a rocket, my cum landing who-knows-where between us.

And then it’s over.

Our kissing slows to a stop, and I reluctantly separate from him. I pull up my sweats, ignoring the sticky mess. Then my eyes drift downward, and I can’t help but notice the erection that his thin pajama bottoms don’t do much to conceal. I glance back up at him, words failing me.