Joey didn’t text. Didn’t show up at the gym. Didn’t even open Justin’s last message. It wasn’t like he had a plan. Wasn’t like he made a conscious decision to avoid him. It just happened. Every time he thought about responding, about showing up, about seeing Justin’s face again, something in his gut twisted, and he shut his phone off.
Justin let him. No double texts, no demands. No showing up unannounced. Just space. Which should’ve been fine. Should’ve made it easy. But it bothered him. More than he expected. Because this wasn’t normal.
He’d blown a load all over Justin. And Justin had just opened his fucking mouth. Joey had seen it happen, had felt it happen, had watched his cock throb, spill, shoot straight onto Justin’s tongue.
Justin had grinned. Had swallowed. Had wiped his chin like it was nothing. Like it was a fucking joke.
Joey clenched his jaw, rolling onto his side, gripping his pillow. His room was dark, the only light bleeding in from the streetlamp outside, cutting soft over the mess of his sheets. His body was still buzzing, tense, restless.
He hadn’t jerked off since it happened. Not once. Didn’t trust what would come into his head. But that night, it hit him too hard. And he cracked.
He was already leaking before he even got his hand around himself. Didn’t even need to warm up. Didn’t even need to think. Because his brain was already there.
Justin.
Justin’s thick thighs, his full pecs bouncing like titties, the way his waist pulled in tight.
Justin, sweaty, oiled up, abs gleaming, on his knees, sucking him off.
Justin, pink nipples hard, looking up at him, lips stretched wide around his cock.
Justin, imagining him in a fucking thong, drinking his cum.
Joey groaned, bit his lip, stroked faster. He wasn’t gonna last.
And then he remembered them. Shoved in the back of his bottom drawer. The black lace panties. The ones he used to sniff when he was still dating his ex-girlfriend, back when he’d jack off in bed thinking about her, thinking about her in them.
His chest rose and fell, breath short, shallow. He swallowed. He rifled in the back of his top drawer and found them. Grabbed them. Pressed them to his nose. But he wasn’t thinking about his ex-girlfriend. He was thinking about Justin.
Justin pulling them up his thighs, over his round ass, adjusting them so they sat high on his hips.
Justin, oiled up, pink, sweaty, his small cock barely filling out the front, his nipples sticking out hard against his slick chest.
Justin, in a thong, licking up every drop of Joey’s cum.
Joey’s whole body went tight. His cock throbbed, pulsed, his abs flexed, his thighs clenched. And then he was coming. Hard. Too hard. His whole body jerked, locked, shuddered as thick, hot ropes spilled everywhere.
His stomach, his chest, his bush—soaked. The sheets under him, sticky, wet. His fingers, his palm, his wrist— slick, messy, dripping with his own cum.
He didn’t stop stroking until it hurt, until every last pulse was wrung out of him, until he had nothing left. He looked down. At his messy, slick hand. At the cum-covered panties. At himself. His stomach turned. His pulse slammed in his ears. He threw them down, rolled over, shut his eyes tight.
This is fucked. This is really, really fucked. He needed to talk to someone.
Joey stared at his phone. He’d been staring at it for ten minutes, thumb hovering over one name.
Adam. His cousin. His bro. The only person in the world he could even think about calling right now. He swallowed hard. Rubbed his face. Then called.
Adam picked up after two rings.
“Dude, you sound weird. What’s up?”
Adam sat across from Joey, looking at him with concern. He'd just got back from his clinic and was still in scrubs. They were sitting, having a beer, at Adam's place, the TV on quietly in the background.
Joey exhaled slow. He had no idea how to even explain this. He tried to explain. He really did. Started rambling, pacing the room, rubbing at the back of his neck, every word skidding sideways out of his mouth before he could land on what he really meant.
Adam listened. Didn’t interrupt. Didn’t judge. Just waited. And when Joey finally shut up, Adam spoke. Slow. Careful. Cutting straight through the bullshit.
“You don’t want him to just be your bro anymore.”
Joey tensed, gripping his hair, shaking his head. “It’s not like that, dude. He’s still Justin.”
Adam stayed steady. “But you don’t want him just as a guy.”
Joey went still. His voice dropped low, rough.
“…No.”
Joey wasn’t ready to say what he was really feeling. But Adam wasn’t about to let him bullshit his way out of it. He let Joey stumble. Let him talk in circles, trip over himself, dig a hole so deep he couldn’t even see the surface anymore. Then Adam cut straight through.
“But you want Justin.”
Joey froze. His stomach flipped, his pulse jumped, his breath stuttered. Scrambling, he shook his head.
“He’s different. I don’t even—like, it’s not like that.”
Adam was completely unshaken.
“Then what is it like?”
Joey had no answer.
Adam wasn’t mocking him. He wasn’t laughing. But he also wasn’t gonna let him pretend.
“You’ve been jerking off to him, right?”
Joey jerked his head up. “That’s not—”
Adam didn’t even flinch. “You’ve been imagining him in panties. Thinking about fucking him like a girl.”
Joey’s whole face went hot. He clenched his jaw. “Shut the fuck up.”
Adam just raised an eyebrow. “And now you’re here.”
Just stating facts. Joey gritted his teeth. Because he wasn’t wrong.
Adam let silence do the work. He knew Joey would keep dancing around it until he had to say it out loud.
“What do you want from Justin?”
Joey’s fists clenched. His breathing was all wrong.
“I don’t fucking know, man.”
Adam’s voice dropped, solid as a weight.
“Yes, you do.”
Joey’s stomach bottomed out. Something cracked wide open inside him. His next breath shook. His voice almost broke.
“…I want him to be my girl.”
Adam nodded. Like this was inevitable. Like he already knew.
“Yeah. That tracks.”
Joey stared at him.
“What—?”
Adam smirked slightly. “Bro, you’re so deep in this you’re about to drown.”
Joey’s whole body locked. “That’s—fuck off, dude.”
Adam shrugged. “Not judging. But if you’re here, talking to me about it, it’s already real.”
Joey’s chest tightened. Because if Adam saw it, then it had to be real.
“Justin’s his own man, bro. You don’t get to just decide.”
Joey bristled. “I know that.”
Adam nodded. “Good. Then tell him.”
Joey shook his head immediately. “No fucking way.”
Adam’s voice got sharp. “You don’t tell him, you lose him. It’s that simple.”
The words hit hard. Joey looked away. Adam wasn’t pushing him. Wasn’t trying to make him feel like an idiot. Instead, he framed it in a way Joey could accept. Like this wasn’t wrong. Like this made perfect sense. Joey fidgeted, rubbing his hands together.
“It’s not—it’s not like I want a dude.”
Adam nodded, like this was obvious. “Of course not.”
Joey was wary.
“…Right?”
Adam was easy, relaxed.
“You want Justin. And you want him a certain way.”
Joey’s throat went dry.
“Yeah.”
Adam tilted his head, voice smooth.
“That’s hot as fuck, man.”
Joey was ready for pushback. Was ready to feel defensive, to have to justify himself. Adam treated it like it was completely normal. Like it was just a fact. Adam leaned back, arms stretched over the couch.
“So what’s stopping you?”
Joey scoffed, looking away. “Dude, come on.”
Adam didn’t let it go. “No, really. What’s stopping you from telling him?”
Joey struggled. “…I dunno, man. It’s—it’s different.”
Adam nodded like that was a given. “Yeah, that’s the point.”
Joey muttered, “What if he thinks it’s weird?”
Adam looked amused. “Justin? The dude who literally swallowed your cum last time you hung out? Bro.”
Joey huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Now he was thinking about it differently. Adam wasn’t saying You’re fooling yourself. He was saying You’re onto something. Keep going.
And that shifted everything. Joey left that conversation with permission. Not just permission to want Justin this way. But permission to act on it.
A couple days later. The locker room was still humid from the showers, the sharp, clean scent of soap barely cutting through the deep musk of sweat and deodorant. Joey was breathing hard, dragging a towel over his face, still cooling down from their workout.
A dude walked by in nothing but a white jockstrap, the thick waistband sitting high on his hips, framing the tight curve of his ass. Joey didn’t mean to look, barely registered it. But the sight must’ve stuck somewhere in his head because the next thing out of his mouth came without thinking.
“You ever train in a jock?”
Justin shook his head, chugging water straight from the bottle, throat working as he swallowed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, totally unbothered.
“Yeah, in high school. You?”
Joey shrugged, adjusting his waistband, the elastic of his briefs clinging a little too tight from sweat. “Back in baseball, yeah. Feels kinda nice, actually.”
Justin shot him a look, smirking. “Bet your big-ass dick needed the support.”
Joey let out a short laugh, rolling his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”
Justin grinned, tossing his empty bottle into his locker. “Nah, but for real. Maybe I should try it.”
Joey kept his tone easy, casual as hell. “Yeah, you might like it.”
That was it. No weirdness. No deeper meaning. Just two dudes talking gym gear. But in Joey’s head? Joey knew something, but he wasn’t sure what.
The next night. Joey was stretched out on Justin’s couch, legs spread, body loose, still running warm from their workout. His muscles ached in that good way, the way that meant he’d wrecked himself under the weight, and now he could finally just chill.
A beer sat half-drained in his hand, his other arm slung over the back of the couch. The city lights spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in soft gold and blue.
He wasn’t expecting anything. Then Justin walked out of his room wearing nothing but a bright red jockstrap. And he was oiled up. Like, really oiled up. Joey’s brain short-circuited. His stomach dropped. His cock twitched to life so fast it was almost painful.
Justin stood in the doorway, grinning like this was completely normal. His skin gleamed under the lights, muscles slick and golden, the cut of his waist pulling tight under the curve of his thick chest.
His thighs looked even bigger, the oil making them shine, every deep ridge and line etched in sharp relief. His pecs were full, round, the soft pink of his nipples standing out against the smooth stretch of his skin.
Justin knew he looked good. And he was letting Joey take it all in.
“So?”
Joey couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even fucking blink. His breath felt too thick in his throat, his hands suddenly useless at his sides, his whole body locked up like a glitching machine. His cock was getting hard so fast, so uncontrollably, he almost felt dizzy.
Justin just stood there, waiting, watching, his grin widening at Joey’s silence. Then, like he was doing him a favor, he turned around.
And Joey’s entire fucking world shifted.
Justin showed off. Jiggled his cheeks just enough for Joey to see the full effect.
“You said jocks felt nice,” Justin said, voice lazy, easy, knowing. “Figured I’d try it.”
Joey was dying. Because this was so much worse than he imagined. The red jock didn’t just show off Justin’s ass. It lifted it. Rounded it out. Made it look even fuller, even tighter. The straps dug into his thick thighs, pulling high on his hips, making his waist look even smaller, his whole body looking fucking insane.
Joey’s pulse hammered. His chest rose and fell too fast. He tried to swallow, tried to breathe, tried to look away. He couldn’t. He had never been harder in his life.
Justin cocked his head, still smirking, arms loose at his sides.
“What? Thought you’d be into it.”
Joey’s throat felt tight. His voice came out rough.
“You fuckin’ with me?”
Justin laughed. Easy. Carefree. Like this wasn’t the most dangerous thing he’d ever done to Joey’s brain.
“Dude. You think I oiled myself up for no reason?”
And then he stepped closer. Picked up the bottle. Tilted it. Poured more oil onto his chest.
The golden liquid spilled over his pecs, dripped down the deep cut of his abs, beading along the ridges of his stomach before sliding lower. His hands smoothed over the mess, spreading it, gliding over his own body like he was putting on a show.
Justin’s voice was low, amused, knowing.
“C’mon, bro. Give me a hand.”
And Joey was gone.
His body moved before his brain did, his hand reaching for the bottle, pouring more oil into his palm. His fingers found Justin’s chest, slick and warm, gliding over thick muscle, down to his abs, over the deep grooves of his waist. Back to his nipples. Joey started to rub oil into Justin’s big fat pink nips, perky and shiny and oh fucking Christ what am I doing…
Justin sighed, stretched into it, letting Joey’s hands move everywhere. And then Justin’s own slick hands wrapped around Joey’s cock.
Joey groaned, eyes squeezing shut, his hips jerking forward instinctively. Justin smirked, gripping tighter.
“There he is.”
It was too much. The oil. The grip. The fucking red jock strap. Justin was so into this. So casual about it. So fucking good at it. And Joey was shaking apart.
Justin, teasing, voice low and smug: “Knew you’d like it.”
Joey could barely breathe. Could barely think. His entire world had shrunk to Justin’s hand. His body betrayed him. His hips pumped into Justin’s grip, chasing it, grinding into his slick, oiled-up fist.
Justin played with Joey’s big cock, fingers gliding, squeezing, his slick palm sliding up and down the full, aching length. Justin grinned, hand gliding slick and tight over Joey’s cock, stroking him like it belonged to him.
“Fuck, dude,” Justin murmured, squeezing the thick shaft, thumb circling the fat, leaking tip. “You really are fucking huge.”
Joey groaned, his hips jerking up into Justin’s fist. Justin laughed, low and easy, eyes flicking up to Joey’s flushed face.
“You like that? Like having a bro jerk you off? Like watching my oiled-up hands sliding all over this fat dick?”
Joey gritted his teeth, breath shuddering. Justin leaned in, close enough that Joey could feel the heat of his breath against his skin.
“You know I fucking love this thing, right?” Justin’s voice dropped lower, full of hunger. “Big, thick boner like this? Fuck, man. No wonder bitches are scared of it.”
He teased the head, let his thumb press into the slit, spreading Joey’s slick precum over the flushed tip.
Justin smirked. “But I’m not scared at all.”
His free hand cupped Joey’s heavy, swollen balls, rolling them, tugging at them just enough to make Joey moan, deep and wrecked. Justin fucking loved that. He stroked harder, slower, deeper.
“Bet you’ve never had someone worship this cock like they should,” Justin murmured, voice all heat and tease. “Bet no one’s ever just fucking… appreciated it, huh?”
Joey’s breath came ragged, shaking. Justin grinned, giving a few slow, lazy pumps.
“This is a fucking god dick, Joey,” Justin whispered, reverent, filthy. “This is the kinda cock people should be on their knees for.”
Joey groaned, grinding up into Justin’s slick fist. Justin let his other hand drift up, fingers pressing into the thick base, squeezing tight before sliding back down.
“I’d get on my knees for it.”
Joey whimpered. Justin laughed.
“Oh yeah,” Justin murmured, licking his lips, watching Joey twitch and throb in his grip. “I’d suck this fat cock so fucking deep, dude. You’d fuck my throat, fill me up, make me choke on it.”
Joey gritted his teeth, his body trembling, his balls pulling up tight. Justin felt it happening. He squeezed just right, pumped just a little faster.
“That’s it, bro,” Justin whispered, watching Joey’s body seize, tense, break. “Give it to me.”
And Joey ejaculated sperm. Hard. Justin leaned forward, mouth open, tongue out, waiting.
Joey jerked, moaned, thick ropes of semen shooting out, hitting Justin’s lips, his tongue, his chin, his chest. Justin moaned, licking up the mess, swallowing it down.
“Fuck yeah,” he whispered, grinning, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Justin lapped at it, drank it down, let it splash against his lips, his chin, his throat. It sprayed everywhere, dripping over his pecs, streaking down the deep lines of his abs, pooling in the slick mess of oil and sweat on his skin.
Joey looked at him.
Justin.
Covered in cum.
Glowing, grinning, licking his lips.
And it was the sexiest thing Joey had ever seen.
