isevsianne

Title: Log off babygirl
Author: isevsianne
Fandom: Original Work
Word Count: 25,092
Rating: E
Warnings: none apply; kinks include feminization, dirty talk, phone sex, voice kink
Summary:

Archer has a friend, Beau, who calls him princess when they play video games. That's not the problem. The problem is Archer kind of likes it.

On Ao3 here.

Archer can’t remember the first time Beau called him princess. He’s pretty sure he laughed, or said something dismissive like, “Dude, shut the fuck up” or, “You’re an idiot.”

It definitely wasn’t when they first met. That was at a house party thrown by Jacob, who used to work with Archer at Tronics Direct. Archer is not sure how Jacob knew Beau, maybe they were in high school together, but now Beau worked at some fancy company in the city and he was just visiting his family in town. They got to talking, about nothing really, and Archer mentioned playing Great Awe Lasting.

“Oh, shit, you play GAL, too?” Beau asked. He immediately offered a hand, which Archer slapped in friendly acknowledgment. “That’s so cool, you any good?”

Archer shrugged, then rolled his shoulders back. The next words out of his mouth could be impressive or embarrassing, depending on the audience, and he didn’t know Beau yet. “Level 60 Ethefi.”

“Wow, no girlfriend then I guess.” Beau winked and put a hand on his shoulder, the fingers slipping off almost as soon as they landed there. “Joking, bro. I need you on my team something fierce. All my friends gave up on GAL, I miss it.”

“I still dig it, even on my own it’s a fun world to explore.” Archer looked down at his solo cup, pressed against his chest and the logo of his t-shirt, instead of meeting Beau’s honey-colored narrow eyes. “What’s your class, bro?”

“I’m a level 30 Sempre.”

Archer looked up at Beau’s grin. His stomach did a little flip; it had been so fucking long since he'd found someone who was into GAL. “That’s dope, then we definitely should team up, dude. Did you download the Citherfall expansion?”

Beau’s eyebrows rose excitedly before he smiled, wider than before. “Of course.”

Ever since they became a team in the game, though, they haven’t really met up in real life again. There were a handful of times when Beau invited him to some real life meeting, but Archer . Once to celebrate a promotion in the city, but Archer turned it down because he felt weird about driving to the city and staying at Beau’s place, just to go to a party with a bunch of people he really didn’t know. He did look up Beau’s social media the next day, and the party looked fun. Beau invited him again a couple of times, but Archer hasn’t ever said yes.

He’s fine with the friendship being the way it is; online only, more about the video game team than them as guys. Their characters’ skill sets complement each other: Archer's high level Ethefi is a mage with low physical resistance, and tagging along with a warrior type in Beau's impressive Sempre fixes that problem. He can use his Regen spell on the Sempre whenever his Ethefi takes the most damage and they can continue most boss fights for as long as it takes with the tactics they’ve perfected together. They've played together for over two years at this point, and their chemistry in the game is solid.

They play together most weeknights and occasionally on the weekends, unless Beau intends on going out. Archer isn’t really the going out type, but he doesn’t mind the solo grind sessions when Beau hops on the call with him while totally hungover and complains about shit. He always likes to hear from Beau.

Nowadays Archer barely thinks about Beau, the real guy behind the avatar. Beau is tall and lean, one of those types of guys who probably goes to the gym, but not enough to make it an obnoxious lifestyle. His hair is brown, but his eyes are that weird, light brown sort of shade that’s more golden than it should be.

On the other hand, Beau’s Sempre is customized with heavy, dark green armor and a blood red stripe going down his elaborate helmet. The avatar is blond and short and stocky instead of tall. Archer’s Ethefi doesn’t wear stupid wizard robes, but his armor is lighter and his character has a tall, willowy form, with longer, glossy black hair. But the face is more wily than attractive: even his avatar isn’t pretty.

Archer really doesn’t understand why Beau started calling him ‘princess’, but it definitely wasn’t because of the game. He wasn’t playing as a girl, or as a girly male character. His character was strictly manly, just like himself.

They did once talk about the newly added warrior class of Sieluen, a matriarchal warrior society, where all the characters had feminine facial features, even when you adjusted the gender dial to male. It became this huge thing online, because the Sieluens were the only class with blood magic abilities, where an attack that spills blood can add temporary strength to the next attack. Archer glimpsed at the article which argued this was feminist, and then another argument that said it was sexist, and decided he didn’t know enough feminism to give a fuck about the whole thing either way.

“I toyed around with it, but it was like, weird,” he told Beau the next time they hopped on a raiding quest together.

“Oh, cool, you’re going to switch classes?” Beau asked.

“There’s no way. The Sieluen switch would cut my magic def down to like, ten. I’m not fucking with that.”

“But if you level back up to 60, you’re pretty unstoppable against the next Undead type boss.”

“Undead types are so rare, dude, it’s not worth it.”

“I think the design is rad,” Beau said, and that was that. The topic was discussed.

Archer’s avatar is male. Archer is very much a dude. He’s had a beard since Beau met him. He keeps it trimmed close to the skin, so it doesn’t get gross, and it’s the same deep brown as his hair and his eyes. He doesn’t think much about his looks, but he’s in decent shape physically, maybe a little bit too skinny. He’s not a vain guy, and he doesn’t do skincare or fashion. He washes his hair with bodywash, like normal guys do. He’s definitely not a girly guy, not that there’s anything wrong with that sort of thing, he supposes, but that’s not who he is. He’s pretty manly. He’s straight. Well. He watches a lot of straight porn. He doesn’t watch other kinds of porn, although he guesses there are other kinds of porn out there.

The point is, he’s not a princess. So why the fuck does Beau keep calling him one?

The princess thing honestly just kind of bugs Archer. Beau is so casual with it, too. “Hurry up, princess,” when Archer was taking too long to set up his add-ons for their next battle. “Let’s do that, princess,” when Archer suggested a strategy for a battle or a mission. Or even, “Missed me, princess?” when Archer commented that it had been a while since they’d done a proper session together.

Okay, so Archer has never asked about it, and Beau does call him other things, too. Beau calls him ‘loser’ when Archer makes another excuse when he couldn’t come up to the city to meet up or hang out in real life. Beau calls him ‘Arch’ when Beau is being whiny and annoying about something. Beau even calls him ‘big guy’ when he wants Archer to cheer up about something, which doesn’t make any sense because Archer is not bigger than him in real life or in the GAL world.

Maybe Beau is just a ridiculous person who calls his friends random shit all the time. Archer wouldn’t mind that, but the part that he does mind, is that he likes being called ‘princess’. He actually enjoys it. It makes him feel warm and cared for, which is fucking ridiculous, because Beau is just his buddy who he plays an online roleplaying game with.

That’s why he’s gotta ask about it, even though that’s really the last thing he wants to do. They’re not the type of bros who talk about feelings. One time Beau called him, sad and drunk about something, and Archer just told him to sack up and that was as deep as they ever got about their feelings. Which is totally fine, whatever. Guys shouldn’t talk about feelings. That’s why they’re guys.

“Dude,” Archer starts, as he watches his Ethefi stand by while Beau’s Sempre sells all the gold they looted off the massive hoarder dragon they just defeated. It wasn’t a lot of gold, more silver and ore, but Beau always takes his time figuring out what to buy, because he wants to get the goods for their next weapon upgrades without trading away their old ones. “Can we like, talk about something?”

“Sure thing, princess,” Beau says, and Archer actually feels his cheeks heat up in a furious blush, because this is so awkward. “What’s up?”

“It’s about, well, that. You calling me that.”

“Calling you what?”

Archer really hates that he has to say it. “Princess.”

“Oh,” Beau replies and laughs. “Sure, okay. Is it like–”

“Why do you call me that?” Archer cuts in.

“Because you’re pretty like a princess." Beau sounds so relaxed, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world that guys go around calling their friends pretty.

Archer’s face feels even hotter. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.” Beau gets quiet for a beat, and then his voice lowers. “You’re a pretty, lovely princess. You’re so gorgeous I can't take my eyes off of you.”

Okay. So he’s definitely mocking Archer. “Fuck off, dude.”

Beau laughs again. “Oh my god. I’ll stop, I promise. I’ll call you baby. Babygirl. Pretty girl.” His voice starts rumbling, sounding so deep and inexplicably near in Archer’s headset. Almost like Beau is whispering in his ear, their little secret. “Sweetheart.”

“Wow, you’re such a fucking asshole,” Archer says, which makes Beau laugh.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” He groans, like Archer has wounded him.

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’m giving you some ore, bro, wait up.”

“Fine, I’ll wait up.” Archer sits there, furious but still, not clicking out of the game.

“Thanks, sugar.” He can almost hear Beau’s shit-eating grin. Maybe getting called princess wasn’t so bad.

“I’m not pretty,” Archer reiterates.

“Agree to disagree, Arch,” Beau says, all nonchalant, but he gives Archer his goddamn ore and even some of his crystals and they’re supposed to quit the game and go to bed anyway, it’s nearly midnight on a Tuesday.

“Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Arch.”

It’s fine. It’s not like he asked Beau to stop calling him that. He just asked for an explanation, and he got one, even if it was one where Beau was obviously joking.

When Beau stops calling him that, though, it kind of bugs him. It’s not like he’s some brittle, fragile little guy whose manliness is affected by some light ribbing between two bros. Beau can call him princess all day long for all he cares. He can take it like a man.

He tries telling Beau this, but it’s weird, because it’s like he’s asking to be called princess again. He doesn’t care either way, but also: he doesn’t want to be a pussy about it. He just wants things to be normal again, for Beau not to feel like he has to hold back. Maybe their normal is Beau calling him ‘princess’ and that's fine.

“It’s like, whatever. I don’t care, dude.”

“Oh-kay,” Beau says, elongating each syllable. “So you like – you like that?”

“I don’t like it. I don’t dislike it.” Archer feels sweat break out on his forehead. Why did he ever bring it up? “It was our thing. It was normal between us. I just don’t want you to think I’m a wuss who can’t take some trash talk.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really think of it as trash talk, dude,” Beau says, then goes quiet again, like he's really thinking this through. “Well, okay, we’ll just – as long as you’re cool, I’m cool.”

“I’m so cool,” Archer insists.

“Okay, then. I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want.” The way Beau says it is so confident, so alpha. It sends a shiver down Archer’s spine. Weird shit.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Let’s go to Plightwood, kill some houndwolves,” Beau suggests lightly, and it’s like the entire conversation didn’t happen.

Then, mid-fight with a houndwolf, Beau’s Sempre goes down to ten HP and Archer casts a Balm spell to keep him shielded from any further attacks from the wolf. Beau says, not missing a beat, “Yeah, balm me up, princess.”

It feels good. That’s the weird part. It actually feels fucking good.

There’s a new time-limit mission that guarantees two hundred gold, four hundred ore and a rare accessory item. Archer’s heart leaps when he reads about the item: a Frangula Dove Feather, which has insane defence stats and it protects against a lot of the common status ailments, including paralyze. It’s a killer item. They gotta go for it.

But Beau seems kind of reluctant, when he brings it up in chat.

idk man Beau writes. got something this weekend.

dude Archer types back furiously. if we get this feather we can go for the temples.

The Temples are the most difficult bosses in the game, but you have to try and beat them as a duo – no teams allowed. The Water Temple is the easiest, but they haven’t even beaten the Leviathan at the end of that route, having exhausted their resources on the smaller foes before the big one. The Fire Temple is impossible without high magical defence, and the Wind Temple had a boss whose each attack bore a different status ailment. If one of them had this feather accessory, they could maybe try it out.

But the time limit, until Monday 2PM, put a restraint on their weekend plans. Archer didn’t have any, beyond maybe grabbing tacos with his two older brothers, but he could cancel those if they committed to this mission.

come on, please Archer types. He bites down on his lip. Sometimes he feels like a little bit of a no life loser, who keeps wanting all of Beau’s time to the game. Beau references stuff from his work, sometimes mentions a birthday party he’s going to, or other plans he has. He doesn’t ever say he’s going on dates, but Archer would bet he does. He seems the type who’s popular with girls.

Archer has a life, it’s just more lowkey. He games a lot, admittedly. Sometimes he goes skateboarding with Dustin, one of his old high school buddies, who owns a tow truck business he started with his dad. He sometimes has plans with his brothers, or he goes help out his mom, or whatever. He works at the repair corner of Tronics Direct, and he likes his coworkers, but he doesn’t really hang out with them.

k sure but i can only do saturday until 10pm Beau writes. lets make it count baby

sweet Archer types. looking forward to it

im sweet on you too princess Beau replies.

gross Archer writes, then deletes it. Beau is not flirting, he's just teasing. No need for Archer to overreact.

whatever he sends instead.

The mission is not what he expected. He knew it was a spy mission, one of those ones where you need to sneak around a mansion and have to steal items from a rich person to help a rebellion of some kind. They divide and conquer, so Beau heads off into a different direction, but they keep talking on voice chat.

“Did you find the letters already?” Beau asks him.

“Nah,” Archer says. He’s staring at the screen, because even hunched over behind one of the big divider walls, he can see the rich people party that’s happening at the mansion and it’s –

It’s fucking weird.

“There’s like an orgy here,” he manages finally, dry-mouthed, and Beau laughs at first, because what the fuck, right?

“You’re kidding.” Beau’s voice is flat. “What are you looking at right now, Arch?”

“Dude, I’m not kidding,” Archer says. “There are guys who are standing really close together, and kind of touching each other.”

“What? That’s not an orgy,” Beau argues. “An orgy is like, fucking. Full on fucking. This game doesn’t have fucking.”

“The St Vespertine expansion does.” Archer keeps looking, because there is nothing else he really can do. They have to finish the mission.

There’s no fucking going on right now, but the mood is – like there might be. If he just waited. The men are in tuxedos and masks, and it’s all definitely giving off weird sex party vibes. Archer feels his blood start rushing to places he doesn’t want it to rush.

“St Vespertine is fade-to-black on the sex scenes,” Beau says. “Or so I’ve read.”

“But the characters fuck in it.” Archer doesn’t want to think about fucking, but right now it's just about the only thing he does think about. “Dude, I can’t get out until they move into another room. I’ll get caught.”

“I’m coming over, I can be pretty stealthy,” Beau says jovially. “Are they fucking yet?”

“No, they’re just –” Looking at each other funny? Touching each other's arms a lot? “Weird.”

“Is it gay?” Beau asks.

It is gay, but he really doesn't want to say that. The guys in tuxedos aren’t like bas-gay. They’re just weirdly intimate with each other.

“I don’t know,” Archer says, frustrated. Why did they decide to go on this stupid mission? The feather is obviously not worth all this. His palms are sweating and he feels like air is running low in the apartment. He should open a window. He should pause the game and leave, but you can’t pause on a mission, unless you both pause at the same time.

Beau laughs. “I’m at the eastern entrance now. Dude, these guys are just dandies.”

“The fuck is a dandy?”

“Read a book, bro. It’s like a historical name for a guy who likes fashion.”

“So… gay,” Archer says, his cheeks hot.

“Not necessarily,” Beau says nonchalantly. “What if I draw them out somehow? I have one of those smoke bombs on hand.”

“I don’t know,” Archer says, his brain not really focused on strategy right now.

Then something monumental happens. Two of the guys lean into each other and then they are kissing right in Archer’s view. His cock reacts, filling up at the sight of the tilted heads, the hands pulling their bodies closer by the hips, firm and possessive. It's not porn, it's not even hot. It's just a video game. Why the fuck is he getting hard?

“What if they find you?” Beau’s voice murmurs in his ear, tone still light and jokey. “They’ll see what a pretty little thing you are, princess.”

“No way,” Archer croaks.

“They’d definitely be into you,” Beau teases him, his voice lowering. “They wouldn’t just want to talk fashion with you, baby. They’d want to tear your clothes off.”

The way his voice sounds so near Archer’s ear in the headset is not helping Archer’s cock go down. He pushes it down with his hand, gritting his teeth together at the way the heel of his hand feels on the hard, smooth cock in his sweatpants. It’s not enough, but Jesus, it's what he needed.

“I’m not into that,” Archer lies, because right now he’d be into it. He’d be into anything that got him off, even Beau’s steady, playful voice in his ears.

“They wouldn’t need to get your clothes off,” Beau says. “One of them could pull you into his lap and make you squirm as he touches you over your clothes, gets you all horny like that.”

“I wouldn't squirm,” Archer comments, sounding like an idiot, but his brain is on one track. He needs to touch his cock. He needs someone to touch his cock. “That would be weird.”

“Not really, a pretty girl like you on some guy’s lap, squirming because you’re getting all fucking hot against his dick,” Beau says. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess?”

“Maybe, ah,” Archer admits, his hand slipping beneath the waistband and around his cock. This is weird. It’s already weird. A hand on his cock is not going to make it not-weird, so he might as well tug a few times. He finds the smooth, hot skin, the wetness at the tip and rubs over it with his thumb. “Maybe.” It comes out all breathy, but hopefully Beau won't notice that.

“Fuck.” Beau makes a noise, like a hiss between his teeth. “You’d really like that, princess, getting some guy’s cock hard against your tight little ass, grinding on his thigh. You’d get so wet and desperate for him, right, baby?”

Archer needs to stop this, but he doesn’t know how, his brain addled with the need for release and his hand already moving on his cock. It feels so fucking good, and even better thinking about grinding against something, the hard muscle of a thigh or a pack of hard abs. The thick, hard bluntness of an erection in Beau’s pants. He lets out a moan, but it’s more of a sigh. He hopes Beau thinks it’s a sigh. He doesn’t want Beau knowing that he’s jerking off to the sound of Beau’s voice, the stupid images Beau says to tease him, taunt him.

“Maybe you’d prefer it if you were sitting on my lap, princess. Maybe you’d like it best if it was my cock you could grind your wet pussy against,” Beau says and Archer tears off the headset because he can’t, he absolutely shouldn’t, but his hand keeps moving and he’s so close, and he feels his body slack on the couch, his hand tightens, his thighs tremble and he bites on the inside of his cheek, no fucking way is he letting Beau hear, no chance.

He spills silently all over his hand. He’s the worst guy on the planet. He’s such a freak.

The clarity spreads over his mind like a cool blanket. He’s fine. He’s finally thinking straight, and he cannot believe he just did that. Did he just actually do that? He hopes to fuck Beau didn’t notice.

“Uhh,” he says into the headset, picking it up off the floor. “I think my connection went. You still there?”

“Yeah,” Beau says, his voice sounding like gravel. “I’m here, baby.”

“So like, maybe use that smoke bomb? I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’ll do – I’ll do that.” Beau clears his throat. “I just gotta hop off and pause for a moment. Think my delivery is here.”

They hit pause together, and then the game resumes after a minute or two. Guilt darkens Archer’s mind, but he’s trying not to think about what just happened. Nothing happened. Beau doesn’t know what he did.

The smoke mists the screen for a moment, and then when it clears, the room is empty. Archer goes through the drawers at the other end of the room, finds the letters there and the rest of the mission goes off without a hitch.

“So that was a weird party,” he says after they pick up the feather and their rewards, the mission success screen flashing golden.

“I didn’t hate it,” Beau says. “I gotta go, though. Got those plans, I–uhh. I should just –”

“Yeah, totally.” Archer swallows. “GG.”

Is this it? Does Beau know he’s a fucking pervert who jerks off to a game now? He swears he’s not, he’s never done that before. He’s never going to do it again, for sure. His cock didn’t get hard at Beau’s voice, not exactly. He was just thinking about a girl and how fucking hot she was for him, a man. He didn’t think of himself as the girl. That would be fucking bizarre.

He just got hot because of the fictional girl. That’s fine. It’s totally normal, because ye likes girls so much. It won’t happen again.

“Really fun mission, Arch,” Beau says. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No prob,” Archer says, and that’s that. He’s not a weirdo. He’s a normal guy, who jerks off to normal stuff which doesn’t include his buddies.

He tries looking his problem up online, but it turns out that jerking off to your buddy’s voice on voice chat while he’s elaborating on a searingly hot fantasy is not a common thing at all. He just finds some stuff about a girl who doesn’t get on voice chat so her online buddies won’t know she’s a girl. But Beau definitely knows Archer is not a girl.

The next couple of times he plays with Archer, there’s no weirdness. His dick doesn’t get hard, although it twitches when Beau’s voice gets a bit low and sweet. Beau still calls him princess or baby or sweetheart, and now Archer’s cock seems to react to it. A low heat settles in his lower abdomen whenever they play together, but he’s not going to do anything about it. He can jerk off after the game and work out the energy, and not think about Beau’s voice when he does it.

They complete the Water Temple, and it’s a huge accomplishment.

“You wanna just smoke and stay on voicechat?” Beau asks.

Archer doesn’t smoke weed. “I could drink a beer and chat, sure.”

“Cool,” Beau says easily, and that’s what they do, closing out the game but continuing on voicechat.

They talk about whatever, mostly the game and Beau not being sure if he should move apartments to be closer to his office. Once Archer has gone through two cans of beer and Beau sounds relaxed, Archer asks something profoundly stupid.

“You ever jerk off with a buddy?”

It’s not like he’s issuing an invitation. He’s just making dumb chat. He’s been thinking, and what they did is not even a big deal, if you think about it. He doesn’t know if Beau touched himself so technically they didn’t even jerk off together. He wonders if Beau’s dick is thick like he imagines it might be, or if it’s long like his limbs are. He has a feeling it’s gotta be huge, because Beau is too confident for a guy with a small dick. Not that he’s ever telling him that.

Beau laughs. “I mean, yeah, once or twice.”

“Cool,” Archer says, and his cheeks feel warm. “You get into it?”

“It was alright,” Beau says. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Archer says, even though now he’s thinking about a lot of things. How his cock feels in his hand, how Beau’s voice in his ear could get him so fucking horny right now, how stupid it is that Beau calling him princess gets him hot, like what the fuck even is that. “I was just thinking about how it’s not gay, like, if you think about it. There’s no touching involved.”

“I mean, I guess.” Beau sounds amused, but not mean. “There could be touching if you wanted there to be.”

“But there doesn’t have to be.” Archer’s face is on fire, and his cock loves how Beau sounds, loose and lazy, his voice like dark honey. He can blame whatever he says next on the alcohol. “If my dick’s in my hand and yours is in yours, it’s not like we’re doing things to each other.”

“Is that what you wanna do right now, princess?” Beau’s voice lowers. “You want me to take my cock in my hand for you?”

“If you want,” Archer says, barely able to form the words. His own cock is hard and hot now. He palms over it in his sweatpants, and decides to just strip down so he can rub it over just his boxer briefs.

“I definitely want to,” Beau assures him. “Talking to you gets me so hot sometimes, you little cocktease.”

Archer’s mouth opens in a gasp, and he hopes to god Beau doesn’t hear it. “I don’t cocktease, bro.”

“Yeah, you do, baby. You remind me of your pretty face every time we play together. All I gotta do is hear your voice to get so fucking hard, jesus,” Beau rambles and Archer hears the faint sounds of fabric moving, Beau opening his jeans or maybe pushing his shirt up, so he can feel over his nipples while his other hand works his cock.

Archer’s cock really likes that mental image. He squeezes his fist over the head and makes a breathy noise that’s maybe a little bit like a moan. “My voice isn’t sexy. Not the way yours is.” What the fuck is he saying?

“You like my voice? That's what I like to hear. But baby, you have no fucking clue how sexy your voice is. It makes me want to hear the kind of sounds you make when you come, sweetheart. You want to do that for me today, huh? You want to let me hear how I make you come on your hand?”

“Yes,” Archer agrees stupidly, and reaches for the lotion he sometimes uses to jerk off. It’s cool until his fingers warm it. He slides it over his hot cock to form that tight, slippery space he can fuck into to get off. His hips lift and he fucks into his fist, his breaths leaving him in shallow bursts.

“Your pussy must already be wet for me, baby. Does your clit get hard at the sound of my voice, princess?”

“Yeah,” Archer says, even though he doesn’t have a clit. The cock in his hand throbs and he’s so fucking gone, his brain mush apart from the tight hold of his fist around the head of his cock.

“Good, then you should touch it, baby. Stroke your hard little clit for me, baby, I want to hear what you sound like.”

“Beau,” Archer says – no, moans, so fucking eager for whatever Beau can give him. “Are you touching your cock right now?”

Beau laughs. “You wanna hear about my cock, princess? Wanna hear how rockhard it is as I’m sitting here thinking about you?”

Thinking about another dude’s dick is a little too gay for Archer’s comfort, but he also can’t help but picture it, Beau high and relaxed, but cock hard in his hand. Beau stroking his thick, flushed cock, thinking about – not him, not Archer himself, but just a version of him that only exists in this weird construct they’ve built. It’s absurd. It’s so fucking hot.

“Yeah,” Archer admits. “Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me.” Beau lets out a stuttery breath. “You are a little cocktease, knowing you make my cock so fucking hard. You know what I want to do right now, princess?”

Archer swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s close now and the reality of coming to the sound of Beau’s voice and his own hand is all too real, but his hand is working towards that goal, and he’s too far gone to focus on anything but this. “Please, tell me.”

“I love it when you beg, baby.” Beau groans in his ear. “Okay, I’d get you on my lap and rub my hard cock all over your little clit. I’d let you get off on my cock before sinking your sweet, hot pussy down on it. I’d push up that cute t-shirt of yours and play with your tits as I let you ride my cock. I’d let you feel all of my cock inside you, baby, fuck into you so hard you’d feel it the next day. Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes,” Archer says, shutting his eyes, “fuck yes, Beau,” unable to do anything but give into the wave that’s hitting him, the whitehot behind his eyelids and the shudder that follows right after.

“You’d look so pretty on my cock, princess, the prettiest girl in the world.” Beau’s voice is hot and gravelly in his ear, the perfect balm to accompany his afterglow. “You’d come even harder on my cock, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck yes,” Archer agrees, even though he’s never come in bed with anyone, much less on anyone’s cock. He feels the warm looseness in his limbs, but he knows Beau hasn’t come yet. “I’d love to sit on your cock, Beau.”

“Jesus,” Beau gasps and the connection rustles, his headset slipping off.

Archer wipes the mess off his own hand with a couple of tissues and tries to sit up. This is so weird, but the regret hasn’t replaced the warmth just yet. He feels great. Why was he so afraid of this? It’s totally cool to jerk off with your friend. Guys do it all the time. It’s so normal nobody even needs to mention it.

Guys probably don’t talk about this kind of thing afterwards. Beau laughs nervously, grumbles about making a mess and Archer swallows, saying nothing.

It’s cool. It’s fine. Beau got off because he was pretending that he was talking to a hot girl, not because he was talking to Archer. They shouldn’t make this any weirder than it needs to be. It’s just jerking off together. Archer has not touched Beau’s cock. He has thought about Beau’s dick, but he’s thought about a lot of guys’ dicks, because guys can’t go five minutes without mentioning their dicks in conversation. So that’s not his fault.

If his mouth waters thinking about Beau’s dick, that’s not something he’s ever going to tell anyone.

“Do you wanna raid the Foggy Cove next Tuesday?” he asks, totally casual.

Beau makes a noise that sounds like he’s disappointed. “I don’t know, I probably need to work late a few nights next week. But I could call you when I get home. Like. Just to talk.”

“Yeah,” Archer says. “You could do that, sure.”

“Cool,” Beau says. “I’ll call you, Arch. You’re the best.”

Archer doesn’t know how to take that compliment. He’s not the best because Beau got off with him, right?

They chat on Monday evening, and it’s not weird at all. Archer finds out Beau’s boss is kind of a dick, and he’s been trying to find a new, better job for a while now. Beau also has an ex, who he sees every now and then, but is trying to put some distance between them.

Archer doesn’t really want to know about Beau’s ex, but he’s also not going to mock Beau for opening up about stuff like that. It’s just curious he doesn’t say ex-girlfriend, and instead says ex, but Archer doesn’t want to think about the implications of that further.

It's not any of his business, so he isn't about to ask. They’re not some weird jerkoff buddies, even though it happened once.

On Tuesday Beau calls him again, this time on his cell at almost midnight. Archer is bored watching speedrun videos on YouTube, and when Beau asks, he says as much.

“I wanna go to bed, but I don’t feel tired, I don’t know.”

Beau’s laugh is husky in his ear.

“What?” Archer asks.

“I think I know what you need, baby.”

Archer feels his chest flush with warmth, his pulse spiking. A tingle starts at the base of his neck. Nope. He’s not doing this again. “A beer? Weed?”

“You need to get off, princess. And I know just the thing.” It’s freaky how Beau’s voice and its low timbre works its way into stubborn heat at Archer’s core. He can just say no, stop, this is too weird. His cock stirs, fattening up in record time, but he can still stop this.

He doesn’t want to, though. “What do you think I need?”

“You should finger your pussy for me, baby. Have you ever done that before?”

He hears a faint clink of a belt again in the background. It helps to picture Beau on his couch, lean body with his trousers opened, cock tenting the front of his underwear. Beau probably has some hair trailing down from his belly button down to the base of his thick, beautiful cock.

Archer lowers his hand over his hard cock, still stuck in sweatpants. This is crazy. He should just say he’s gotta go, jerk off alone, not make this any weirder than it already is. But he’d still be thinking about Beau’s cock in his hand, Beau’s voice, Beau telling him what a pretty pussy he’s got.

“I’ve done it once or twice,” he says, cheeks heating at the admission. He was just curious, he had lube, he was high. He worked his hole for a while, the strange pressure becoming more comfortable, pleasurable, until his cock was rock hard and he came so fast he broke a sweat. And then he did it again, to prove to himself it wasn’t even that great.

But it was really good. So if he still does it in the shower sometimes, making the cleanup easy, what’s the big deal?

“God, your pussy must be so fucking tight, baby. Can you open yourself up for me tonight? Get your fingers wet and inside your sweet, perfect pussy?” Beau swallows, audible, and then lets out a sound, a muffled moan maybe.

Archer scrambles to find the lube, get his pants off and situated so he can still talk on his cell. “Uhh, sure.” He squeezes out a line of watery lube along two of his fingers and gets a hand around his aching stiff cock first, before trailing his hand down behind his balls. His hole feels tight, the sensation heightened by the coolness of the lube and the quickening beat of his heart, a pulse he can feel at his temple.

“Have you ever had something really big in your pussy?” Beau asks, and Archer swears he can heard slick sounds of Beau’s hand on his own cock. It drives him wild to even just think about.

“No,” he says, and it’s easy to be honest this time. “I bought a toy, but haven’t been brave enough to use it yet.”

“Oh, fuck,” Beau gasps. “Work your pussy for me, baby. I need to hear how you stretch yourself open for me. Would you like for me to help you with that toy?”

Archer pushes in one finger, groaning at the feel of it. He’s tried so hard to avoid this part, knowing how good it feels and also how not enough it feels. He can get three fingers in himself and the pressure is great, but he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to get something bigger and smoother in there.

“Yes,” he says, curling his finger in the tight hold around it. His cock twitches impatiently, the tip wet with precome. It's kind of embarrassing how easy he is for this. His two favorite things: Beau’s voice in his ear and something opening his ass.

“I could get it in you, slow and steady. See how it stretches you, fuck you slowly with it,” Beau murmurs, “but spending so much time between your pretty thighs might make me want to feel how tight and wet your pussy would feel around my cock.”

“Yeah?” Archer manages, working a second finger in, the pulse of his own body driving him further. Not enough floats across his mind, because now instead of just his fingers and that stupid toy he bought, his body wants more, it wants Beau, Beau’s huge cock pushing past his rim, Beau’s cock deep inside him. His hole clenches around his fingers, tightening instinctively at the thought of it.

“Fuck yes, baby, I’d love to feel your pussy on my cock. I’d fuck you the way a pretty girl like you deserves to be fucked, long and hard until you came all over me like the cockhungry little slut you are.” Beau sounds as far gone as Archer feels. “Are you thinking about my cock, princess?”

“I really want your big cock, Beau,” Archer says, because he does, that’s the fucked up part. He wants it in his mouth and deep inside him, he wants to feel it in his hand, hot and silken as he'd tug it lazily.

“Oh, baby, you can have my cock. I’d give it to you all night. I’d let you bounce that lovely tight pussy of yours on it and let you ride me. My fingers would work your hard little clit as I fucked you– oh fuck.” Beau quiets for a moment and all Archer registers is the movement of his own fingers, the wet sounds of Beau’s hand on his cock, and the way he can no longer hold back. He gets his other hand on his cock, even if that means his phone slips dangerously between his shoulder and cheek. His hand grasps his cock tight and tugs at it, the motion fervent and blurry.

“Please, Beau, fuck me,” he moans out and that gets Beau there in an instant, the barely contained groan hot against Archer’s ear. His fingers aren’t Beau’s cock, but in that moment they’re plenty, his hand on his cock fast and even with the touch a bit too dry, he gets there.

The shame arrives quicker this time. He cleans up shoddily and feels like a fucking mess. What the fuck are they doing? A dark feeling knots his chest. He’s not this person. He’s not a guy who actually wants this kijd of thing. The whole thing was just, well, Beau did talk about a girl. Archer likes girls and he wants Beau to know it, too.

“I’m not gay,” he says when his breathing slows down, phone back in his hand. “Um. Like. I don’t want you think I’m—”

“Okay,” Beau says brightly, interrupting him. “Got it. Cool. You’re not gay. I didn’t think you were.”

“Yeah,” Archer says, “I’m not. Just because you think I'm pretty, which like, maybe I am. I still like girls a lot. Some guys at school were dicks and used to say –” Words get stuck in his throat.

“What did they say?” He hates how Beau sounds. Soft, pitying.

“It’s like. If you look pretty for a boy, you must be – you must like doing shit with other guys and –” He can’t say it. Even after all this time. “Whatever, assholes. Forget I said anything.”

“Okay,” Beau says. “Well, fuck them. I just want you to know. Fuck those guys. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” Archer agrees, but that doesn’t make those guys less powerful in his head. “Well. Thanks for calling. Wanna raid tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Beau says. “I want to try it if I'm not too busy. It’d be fun.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Archer feels the tight, anxious knot slowly loosen. Beau still thinks he’s cool. Beau knows he’s not anything he’s not. Beau won’t tell anyone. Beau still wants to talk to him.

It’s fine. It’s not fine forever, but it’s fine for now.

On Wednesday, Beau calls late at night again, and Archer picks up.

“So there’s like this gaming convention in town soon. It might be lame, but it’s a weekend, and maybe it would be worth going to. I kind of want to check it out. You should come with me.” Beau says it so lightly Archer almost says yes immediately.

“I don’t know if I want to pay for a hotel,” Archer says.

“You can sleep at my place. It’s totally cool.”

“Okay,” Archer agrees. “Cool.” His heart is beating in his throat.

“How you been?” Beau asks, like they didn’t just chat for hours yesterday or on Monday.

“So fucking horny,” Archer says, like throwing a hook into the water to see Beau bites.

Beau’s laugh rumbles pleasantly in his ear. “Tell me about it, princess.”

Archer tells him about it, and soon he’s writhing on the bed, overheated and desperate. His hips rock into his hand and one of his hands twists his nipple until he comes all over his own stomach, thinking of Beau's fingers in his pussy. His phone has slipped from his grasp long ago, but he can still hear Beau on speaker phone, groaning low as he comes into his hand, thinking of the exact same thing as Archer is.

It’s so good. It’s fucking wrong. It’s not Beau’s fault he’s like this, but he knows he should stop before it goes further. It can’t go further than this.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into the phone.

“About what?” Beau doesn't sound too worried.

“You don't have to–” Archer swallows. “I keep distracting you. What were you going to ask me?”

“Oh,” Beau says brightly. “I was going to ask about your job.”

They talk about Archer’s job at Tronics Direct and Beau actually sounds interested and keen to learn more. It's weird. Nobody cares about Archer’s job.

“You can actually do things with your hands, that’s so dope,” Beau tells him.

“Don’t gas me up, bro, it’s not even impressive,” Archer says, but he’s cheesing into the phone receiver like an idiot.

“It is impressive,” Beau disagrees.

Archer can’t find it in him to argue about it. He fixes things which to him are fairly easy to fix. He likes his job, even though it doesn’t pay as well as Beau’s fancy job, which requires him to wear suits and do presentations with clients. Archer likes fixing things. It gives him a sense of satisfaction.

The only thing he’s been unable to fix is himself.

They still play GAL together. Between the couple of raiding sessions they’ve managed and a new mission, which they failed because Beau started joking about blowjobs and well, that led them down a different path than expected. Archer feels guilty about it.

It’s not even what they do together; it’s that what they do fuels his fantasies for days afterwards. He becomes consumed by whatever Beau tells him, whatever he confesses in the dark of the night into his cell. He's haunted by the gentle, approving way Beau reacts to whatever his deepest, darkest desires may be.

He fucks himself with the toy he bought, slathering it with lube and imagining it’s Beau, pushing past his rim. It’s the hottest fucking thing. He feels so full, and yet not full enough, because no matter how well he can imagine what Beau would say and how Beau’s weight would feel on top of him, stretching him, he doesn’t actually yet know what it might be like. He wishes he did, but he doesn’t, and he never will. Those are the limits to the fantasy and he knows he’s pushing against those boundaries by jerking off to thoughts of Beau. It just isn't right.

The shame arrives twofold this time. He knows it has to stop. But he can’t be the one to do it. Not when it’s Beau, and it’s this good.

Beau is busy on the weekend, and it gets Archer thinking. He looks up porn where a guy calls another guy’s ass a pussy. It’s a surprisingly common genre, and it’s so fucking hot. He gets off, but it feels hollow without Beau’s voice filling his brain, Beau’s words paused only by him moaning or gasping because of how he’s working his cock on the other side of the phone.

The whole weekend is like that, a jerk off session followed by self-loathing, followed by online searches until he has to jerk off again. He finds so many outrageously disgusting gay things that nonetheless make his cock react. He’s so angry at himself for being like this, and angry he's roped Beau into his own perversions, too.

The problem isn't Beau. It's him.

He breaks the monotony of his usual routine by meeting up with Dustin the next day. Dustin is his oldest buddy, and he’s always on a tear about something. Even now, sitting at the outside table of the local burger joint, his shoulders are up with tension.

“Gamers are fucked up, man.” Dustin shakes his head, disapproving. “No offence, but like, phew. I saw some article about how people are boycotting a videogame because a dude can date a dude in it, or a female character can date another girl inside the game. It’s like, who the fuck cares? How come you can pretend to kill an orc or be an elf or whatever the fuck, but you can’t fathom two dudes dating in your stupid videogame? Geez.”

“But why do they have to shove that in there,” Archer starts. “Also, there are no orcs in that game, dude.”

“I don’t care,” Dustin says. “Nobody is putting a gun to their head and making them date dudes inside some silly videogame. It's goddamn optional. If someone is so bothered by it, maybe they should date a dude. Get it out of their system.”

“It’s not a big deal to me,” Archer says, even though he was annoyed about that news article himself when he first saw it. But he doesn’t want to be a dick to Dustin, so he lets it go. “I might go to a gaming convention in the city next weekend.”

“Oh yeah?” Dustin smiles. “You never go anywhere. Are you getting laid or something?”

“No,” Archer says, frowning. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“You sure?” Dustin teases, but doesn’t question him further.

Archer is not, but he knows he can't get laid with Beau. He wouldn’t want to, even if Beau offered. Which Beau is not offering. Because he’s not like that and more importantly they’re not like that.

Whatever. He goes home and finds a video of a guy spanking another dude’s ass so hard it leaves a pinkish red mark, and calling him naughty. It’s so stupid and ridiculous, it shouldn’t even be hot.

But the next time he gets Beau on the phone, he asks if Beau would ever spank him.

Beau groans. “Of course I’d spank you, princess, if you’ve been bad. Your tight ass would turn pink under my hands, fuck.”

“I haven’t been bad.”

“Well, even good girls need a spanking every now and then, baby. Whatever you need, I'd give you.”

Just hearing it makes Archer feel so much better.

He tries not to think about meeting Beau again in real life too much, because when he does, his breathing gets all funny and he feels like he might have a heart attack. It’s not like they’ve ever talked about what this is, or what the boundaries around it are. He doesn’t know if Beau has ever touched a dick that wasn’t his own, or if he even wants to. Archer has touched a guy’s dick, but that was years ago and doesn’t count, because he was high as fuck and it was dark and the way the guy moaned in his ear while gripping his shoulders still haunts his dreams. Archer hasn’t gotten high in years. He knows better now.

If Beau wants to do anything besides normal buddy stuff, of course Archer will say no to it. Unless he finds that Beau needs it. Guys should be able to help each other out.

If Beau wants to. But Archer doesn’t even know if Beau wants to. He doesn’t know what the meaning of this is, and whether their new bonding is just that, and why Beau is telling him all this stuff about being unsure whether he needs to do more to get ahead in life and why he tells Beau about his own problems.

“You ever feel like you could be happier, but you’re not sure if you’ll ever get there?” Beau asks him the next time they talk. He's been smoking weed, but instead of horny he's getting pensive, and even though the low, husky tone of his voice is sexy as fuck to Archer, all he can do is hold onto his phone and listen.

“I don’t know,” Archer says. “I guess.”

The mood is chill. He enjoys talking to Beau about whatever, even if he knows he doesn't know what the right thing to say back would be. Beau gets all deep sometimes, and Archer likes to hear him philosophize, but he doesn’t want to get too deep himself. His problem is the kind he usually doesn't want to put into words, but the mood tonight is different. Maybe Beau would understand, he figures.

“I guess I wish I could be more normal,” he says finally.

“Normal?” Beau repeats. “What does that mean?”

“Like just be regular, I don’t know. Go to the gym. Work in an office. Have a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Beau says. “Do you want to go to the gym?”

“I prefer skateboarding and running, I guess,” Archer admits. He notices how Beau doesn’t mention the other things. Doesn’t mention them at all, because he assumes Archer is normal in that sense, because Archer did tell him he is normal. He swallows down an awkward lump in his throat. He could be normal.

“Cool, so don’t go to the gym. Not everyone has to,” Beau says. “And being normal is overrated, anyway.”

“You have an office job, you go to the gym,” Archer says. Now he regrets saying anything in the first place, because this is the last thing he wants to talk to Beau about. Is it too late to bring it back to GAL? He racks his brain, trying to think of something. They did put out those preview images of the next expansion pack, but Beau said he wasn’t planning on buying it before August.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Beau says after a pause.

A weight like a stone lands in Archer’s stomach. “But you could have one, if you wanted to. Easily.”

“No, I couldn’t.” Beau’s voice usually sounds like he’s smiling, but he sounds different now. Archer finds it difficult to breathe.

“If you wanted to–” Archer tries once more, only to get cut off.

“I don’t want to.”

“I gotta go,” Archer says and hangs up. He throws the phone down onto the couch next to him, and he breathes in and out, and he gets up and he tries to breathe, but it’s getting more and more difficult.

Jesus fucking Christ. He’s being so weird about this, because it’s not like Beau said– Beau didn’t say anything about–

Fuck this. Archer knows he’s being an asshole. He picks up his phone and texts quickly sorry my friend came round, forgot all about it. tmrw raid at 8pm?

And he waits, sees the little bubbles as Beau is typing and then not typing, and then typing again.

sure thing bro

Archer feels like he can breathe again. What the fuck is his problem? Beau just said he wants to stay single. That’s so normal. They’re still in their twenties. Of course Beau wants to stay single.

He goes to bed and goes to work and when he finally talks to Beau again the next day, it’s all cool. They talk about the game, how they almost have enough ore and iron to bring to the blacksmith’s shop to get Beau’s Sempre a new sword. The stats on the Johon sword are absolutely fucking insane. They’re both looking forward to it.

It’s all cool.

“What time do you get in on Friday?” Beau asks lightly.

“If I go pick up my stuff after work, I should drive to the city by 6pm.”

“Cool. I’ll probably still be working, but you can park downtown and come to the office building, the downstairs has a coffee shop. We’ll meet down there and then we can have dinner. If you’d like? My treat.”

“You don’t have to pay,” Archer says.

“I’m hosting, dude, it’s fine. It’s what you’re supposed to do.” Beau sounds relaxed, the exact opposite of what Archer feels about the upcoming trip.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees. “I’m into it.”

“I’m into it, too.”

It’s what you’re supposed to do, to pay for shit when you’re hosting a friend, Archer guesses. What you’re not supposed to do is to bring yourself to climax with your hand while imagining a friend who you play videogames with on top of you, his cock sliding against your own. But that’s what Archer did last night, and what he is planning on doing tonight before bed.

He feels vaguely disgusted, and makes a promise to himself not to do it.

“Talk to me, princess,” Beau says, his voice breathy in Archer’s headset. “What have you been thinking about?”

Archer feels flushed, even though Beau hasn’t even said anything yet. All he’s done is called him princess. “What have you been thinking about?” he asks, turning it back around, because he knows that note in Beau’s voice, playful and ready, like something in him needs unwinding.

“I’ve been thinking about having a pretty girl like you sit on my lap, teasing her legs open so I can play with her pussy until she’s wet and begging for my cock.”

Jesus. Archer squirms, feeling the coil of heat in his belly already. “And then what?”

“I’d bring you off with my hand, toying with your hard clit.” Beau pauses for a beat. “I’ve been thinking about sucking it until you come in my mouth, too, but I think that’s too easy. I want to make you a little desperate for me.”

“Oh.” Archer’s face is on fire. His hand plays with the waistband of his underwear, still innocent, but his cock has filled out to full length and his brain has turned into soup. He presses the heel of his palm against the tenting hard-on and it’s good, but it’s not enough.

“Then I’d make you feel how hard I was before I’d let you ride my cock,” Beau says. Archer hears the clink of the belt buckle, the slide of the belt loosening, the sigh as Beau gets a hand on his cock. It’s so familiar to him now. “Is that what you want, baby?”

“Yes,” Archer says, making a sound easily mistaken for a moan.

Of course he wants it. He’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anything as much as this.

At the coffee shop, he’s nervous as fuck and desperate not to let it show. It’s been almost two years since he met Beau at Jacob’s party. They haven’t met face to face since, they’ve only ever played online, they’ve chatted on voice and they’ve talked on the phone and they’ve–

But he hasn’t been in the same physical space as Beau in so long, that’s kind of freaking him out right now. Archer opens and closes his hands, palms sweaty around his coffee cup. He doesn’t even like coffee, but he’s wearing his newest white tee and shorts and he’s trying so hard to just look normal. The city moves around him, people coming and going, and unless he stares, nobody is going to notice him, just sitting here with a cup of coffee and his phone.

Then he looks up from his phone and sees Beau. And, fuck.

He knew Beau wears a suit for his job, but he didn’t know what Beau looked like in a suit. His light brown, wavy hair is shorter than Archer remembers, or in any of the photos Beau has posted on social media. His honey-brown eyes are the same, narrow and crinkled when he’s smiling, and fuck, he smiles when he sees Archer. It’s so unfair. He shouldn’t do that kind of thing in public.

“Hi,” Beau says as Archer stands up to greet him. They’re not going to hug, that would be weird, and they’re probably not going to brohug, either, but maybe–

“Hi,” Archer says and takes off his cap. He forgot Beau is about an inch or two shorter than him, or maybe it’s just the shoes he’s wearing. He looks good, not even tired, and Archer doesn’t quite know where to look. His eyes are dangerous; too intense. But if he looks down at the length of Beau’s body in order to stare at his own shoes, he’ll notice the belt. He knows that belt, he's heard it slide open more times than he cares to remember.

So instead he looks past Beau’s gorgeous face, over his shoulder, like he’s seen someone else he knows.

“So, you hungry or what?” Beau asks and his hand briefly grasps one of Archer’s shoulders, fingers squeezing lightly and dropping almost as soon as they touch him.

Archer bristles. Is he going to survive this, being so hyperaware of each movement Beau makes? “Yeah, starving, yeah,” he says, sounding like a fucking idiot.

“Great.” Beau hasn’t stopped smiling yet. Is he high already? “Let’s go.”

The dinner went well. Beau is a chill guy, and Archer doesn’t have to be nervous around him, but he still feels a bundle of knots in his stomach whenever he stares at Beau for too long. In real life, Beau’s voice sounds different than through the phone, but not that much different. It’s a really nice voice. Beau’s got nice hands, big and manly, but the kind that look like they would still be soft to touch and without calluses which Archer has picked up through his job and his hobbies. Beau’s narrow eyes are nice, if a little intense sometimes, and his body is unexpectedly ripped. Archer feels a kind of way about it, but he can’t put his finger on the emotion. Jealousy, maybe?

Beau talks about the convention and what they might do tomorrow, but he also mentions other plans, like the skyscraper in midtown which has a cool bar with a view, or the botanical gardens. Archer doesn’t know how the fuck he’s apparently given off the impression he’d like to see botanical gardens, but it’s just something to do.

“It’s late now, though, maybe we should head back to my place?” Beau suggests after he’s picked up the bill for their meal.

A weird, fluttery feeling hits Archer’s stomach. “Sure. We could play something?”

“Yeah, we could,” Beau agrees, ducking his head and smoothing a hand over his tie. Archer’s eyes are forced to follow the movement. “Or we could just go to bed, it’s kind of late.”

It’s not even that late. Archer remembers Beau staying up until midnight or one in the morning to talk to him on the phone, now suddenly 9.30pm is some magical cutoff point? But then his brain races towards thoughts of Beau pulling him by the hand into his bedroom.

Obviously Beau doesn’t mean that. When they get to his apartment, which is way nicer than Archer expected, and way cleaner, too, he starts pulling out an air mattress and new linen for Archer to sleep on. Which is fine. This is what buddies should do when they have a buddy stay over at their place.

It’s just that. “I’m not tired yet,” Archer says. “We could just hang out. Talk, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Beau says, placing down the still-folded linen onto the chair in his living room. “What do you want to talk about?”

Archer sucks in one corner of his bottom lip. His cheeks feel warm now that he knows Beau’s eyes are studying his face. He definitely can’t look back at him. “I don’t know, man. GAL, maybe?”

“Sure,” Beau says, inhaling sharply. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“A beer, thanks,” Archer says. An excuse as good as any, although he’s never used that one with Beau. Come to think of it, Beau has never excused their calls with him being high, either.

They sit down on the couch, and Archer brings up the rumors about a training ground expansion, which would include two new regeneration spells for his Ethefi to learn. This kind of rumor floats around every couple of months and there’s never anything confirmed, but it’s exciting to think about and talk about. But Beau doesn’t seem that interested, remaining quiet.

“Arch, what do you– what do you think this is?” Beau looks at the label of his beer bottle, his fingers playing at the edge of its damp label.

Archer’s pulse picks up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re–” Beau groans, leaning his head back against the back of the couch. Archer swallows, watching the way Beau’s eyes have fallen closed. “You don’t– I mean. I don’t do this kind of thing with anyone else.”

“I don’t play GAL with anyone else, either,” Archer says.

“Sure,” Beau says, his mouth forming a smile as he licks over his bottom lip. “That’s not what I mean, though.”

Archer’s heart beats hard inside his ribcage. What does Beau expect him to do? Talk about this? Put it into words? They’re guys, they don't talk about this kind of thing. He wouldn’t know what to say even if he wanted to say something. It’s not fair to want him to say it, because he can’t.

“Right,” Archer manages, his heart panicked inside his ribcage. “Do you want me to go?”

Beau’s eyes open as he lifts his head again, and he pushes his beer bottle onto the sofa table. His whole body turns towards Archer. He looks into Archer’s eyes, steady. “That’s probably the last thing I want right now, Arch.”

Archer wishes his heart could calm down. “What do you want, then?”

Beau’s lips fall open, his breaths coming in shallow. The honey in his eyes darkens. “I think I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay,” Archer says, his hands still holding onto his own beer bottle. “Okay,” he repeats, when Beau’s hand slides over his knee and up his thigh, heat through the fabric of his shorts. Archer’s cock twitches, and starts filling up, especially when Beau’s hand cups the side of his face, thumb tilting his jaw before Beau’s face blurs and a warm, wet mouth presses against his own.

It’s a fucking great kiss, because Beau happens to be great at everything. It’s soft and slow before it gets hot and demanding. Beau’s hand grips his shirt, pulling him closer, until he’s halfway on Beau’s lap, and then he’s all the way there and they’re still kissing. Beau touches his back and Archer feels the contours of muscle on Beau’s shoulders as Beau’s tongue licks into his mouth. His cock is so hard already. It’s not weird to kiss a dude, Archer notes, but then he’s done it twice before, he just prefers not to remember that. Beau is clean shaven but Archer’s short beard rubs against the sandpaper skin on his jaw. Beau tastes like beer and smells like wood and citrus, and Archer is so fucking into it.

“Jesus, fuck,” Beau gasps when Archer tilts his hips, grinding against Beau’s lap. Archer feels him, hard beneath the fabric. It’s a good type of friction, but it’s not enough and Beau seems to know it, too. “Hold up,” he says and pulls his hands away from Archer to get his own belt and fly open.

Archer looks down at the space between them, Beau’s quickly moving hands, the way he takes out his cock and – holy fuck. It’s a great fucking cock. Thick, smooth, flushed pink with anticipation. Archer is lightheaded, teeth biting into his lip, his own cock twitching impatiently in his pants. He wants this. He really fucking wants this.

Beau touches Archer’s cock through the fabric of his cargo shorts, a tentative movement over the length of it. “Is this okay?” His eyes meet Archer’s, his lips parted and all Archer can think is how much he doesn’t want to talk, but how nice it is of Beau to ask. Beau’s fingers trail over the waistband, the touch electric.

“Okay,” Archer says. “It’s cool.”

“Cool,” Beau repeats and kisses him again, his hand opening the fly and sneaking inside to grasp Archer’s cock at the base. His fingers smoothly lift his balls out of the pants, too. He lines their cocks together, the hot skin of Archer’s cock sliding over the velvet feel of Beau’s. It’s exhilarating, but Archer’s brain swims with the thought that this probably isn’t the first time Beau’s done this, and also how glad he is that it’s not, because when Beau strokes his hand over both of their cocks, squeezed tight together, Archer just about dies. “Like that?” Beau asks, his voice a low whisper.

“Yeah, I like that,” Archer says, his hips instinctively thrusting forward toward Beau’s hold. Beau should set the pace, but Archer needs to get off. His hand slides into Beau’s hair and pulls, tipping his head back so he can focus on kissing Beau’s jaw and neck, fucking into Beau’s hand.

Beau works the slick of their precome along both of their shafts, making the glide better. He groans when Archer bites into his ear. “Baby, let me,” he says, and Archer takes the suggestion immediately, allowing Beau’s hand to set the pace at last. He’s so close already, balls tight and aching warmly. It might be embarrassing how close; how much he loves the feel of Beau’s body beneath his own, Beau’s hand, Beau’s tongue licking possessively into his mouth.

It’s too fast, but his head drops onto Beau’s shoulder and then all he can do is place his hands onto Beau’s round, thick biceps and let the tight, perfect hold of Beau’s hand work the orgasm out of him. He squeezes his eyes shut and sees dark, sparking stars in his eyelids, and his eyes fly open at the last, brain-clearing jolt of coming.

“Oh, fuck, Arch.” Beau sounds like he’s smiling.

His hand is covered in Archer’s come. Archer’s cock is now tender, so he grimaces, and Beau immediately lets go of him, his hand grasping his own, thick, still erect cock. Let me Archer almost says, but his brain is too mellow to rush it, and Beau gets himself off faster, allowing Archer the perfect view of the mess he makes as he spills all over his fingers.

He loves the way Beau looks when the orgasm washes over him, the way his thighs tremble under Archer’s weight. Beau’s other hand moves over his hips, stroking a path under his shirt.

“God, you’re pretty,” Beau says afterwards.

“We made a mess,” Archer says awkwardly. He’s not pretty, but he’s also not going to argue. A weird knot twists in his stomach again. Beau didn’t call him a princess or talk about his cute tits or tight pussy, and that’s probably– definitely good. But it’s also weird, because Archer thought that was the seed of whatever this is between them. That it’s not about them, it’s about this fantasy that can stand between them, protecting them from–

“Yeah, we did.” Beau’s fingers still stroke his skin, and he leans closer to kiss, but Archer turns his head away.

“We should like, clean up,” he says.

“Mhm,” Beau agrees lazily, but he doesn’t move even when Archer moves off his lap. “Shower’s that way.”

“Cool,” Archer says.

He doesn’t really want to shower, because in the shower he has to think about things, and thinking would not be a good thing for him to do right now. He feels the water wash away all the nice, heavy satisfaction and by the time he gets out he’s anxious again. What the fuck is he doing? He’s gotta stop, that’s all there is to it. If Beau won’t control this for them, he has to.

So when Beau asks him where he wants to sleep, like there are options even though Beau’s apartment isn’t that big and Archer doesn’t see anything but the couch or Beau’s king-sized bed, Archer says couch like five times in a row, just to make a point of it.

“If you’re sure,” Beau says coolly. Archer nods. He’s sure as fuck.

The couch is his liferaft, tethering him to whatever normalcy he can attach himself to right now.

The next day they wake up and Beau makes coffee, but suggests they get breakfast outside. “There are some nice places around the neighborhood.” He pauses, hesitating. “If it’s cool with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Archer says.

Beau orders the shakshuka and Archer gets the eggs benedict, even though he doesn’t really know what he’s ordering. The place looks fancy and Beau insists on paying again. The tables have white, thick tablecloths and there is even a tiny glass bottle that has a dainty pale yellow flower stuck in it.

“What’s your family like?” Beau asks.

“I’ve got two brothers, both older. Curtis is twenty-nine, Clay is twenty-six.” Archer says. “Mom and dad divorced. She lives in town, too. Dad moved two states over to work with his brother. He’s kind of a loser, my dad. We don’t talk much.”

“Oh, that kind of thing,” Beau says. “Sorry, that sucks. I have a little sister. Then there’s my mom, still married to my dad. I don’t talk to my dad.”

Archer chews on bread crust and waits a moment to reply. “Why not?”

“He’s pretty conservative,” Beau says, looking up from his coffee and his brow lifts. “I’m not.”

“Okay,” Archer says. “So it’s like, political.” He’s never understood much about politics, and won’t pretend to try.

“No, it’s very personal,” Beau says, and looks like he might say something else, but then swallows and looks towards the door. “You want to head down to the convention center next?”

“Yeah, that’s why I came down, right?”

“Right,” Beau agrees slowly, and asks for the bill.

The convention is actually dull as fuck. There are only a couple of booths that show trailers, and the demos they queue to play all turn out to be unimpressive and boring. Even the GAL stand disappoints Archer.

“They really don’t think anyone plays a high level Ethefi,” he grumbles. “It’s all Sempre and Gnole crap when they talk about the next expansion pack. And the boss looks too easy.”

“Anti-Ethefi discrimination,” Beau says, then laughs. “Dude, I’m sorry. I had no idea it was going to be like that. Let’s go back to mine. Or we could go see a movie or something?”

Archer feels his cheeks heat up. “No, your place sounds fine. Takeout?”

“Oh, dude, great idea.”

Archer shouldn’t assume anything, because obviously they’re not going to – they’re just not. Just because it happened once already. Beau hasn’t talked about it. Beau shouldn’t talk about it and Archer won’t bring it up. Archer swallows. They’re just going to hang out.

His cock stirs at the thought of Beau closing that door and turning towards him, pulling him closer by the hip while Beau’s other hand slides to cup Archer’s groin. If Beau would call him princess before kissing him, Archer’s resistance would melt away like a candle next to a heat source.

But Beau doesn’t do that. He acts normal, and gets then a set of takeout menus and spreads them all on the kitchen island. He tells Archer how the Thai place is actually great, but he also likes the nearby sushi delivery place and the pizza place down the road.

Archer isn’t really listening, his heart hammering in his chest.

The words come out of his mouth before he even understands he’s speaking. “Could I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Beau looks up from the menus. “My bed?” His lips open, then close as he swallows. “Sure, you can.”

“Okay,” Archer says.

“Do you mean just sleep, though?”

What a dumb fucking question. Archer looks down at his shoes. “No.”

“Oh,” Beau says. “So, like – dinner?”

“Later, maybe?” Archer asks.

“Fuck,” Beau sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He moves in strides towards Archer and when they collide into each other, Archer is ready for it.

So ready.

They make out on Beau’s bed. Archer pulled off Beau’s t-shirt to feel the contours of his chest, the short hairs on his chest and the flat of his abs. Beau is stupidly gorgeous, but in a manly, masculine way that drives Archer to touch him more, kiss down his neck and chest.

“Baby, I want to suck you off,” Beau says, hand firmly squeezing over the hardness in Archer’s shorts.

“Okay.” Archer’s head spins. “Later, though. I need to suck your cock first.”

“Fuck,” Beau gasps. “Arch, baby–”

Archer tries to swallow the heart in his throat. He’s never done this before. He’s watched hundreds of videos of other guys doing it, he’s thought about it so many times, but he’s never felt a cock going past his lips before. He moves down Beau’s body, opens the buttons of his jeans one by one, biting his lip. Beau’s hand strokes his hair and neck, the touch soft and appreciative.

“Tell me what you like,” Archer says, like he’s a pro who knows how to take cocksucking instructions. But at least he knows the theory, and the thought of doing it turns him on so much he gets dizzy.

“Focus on the head, keep it nice and wet.” Beau groans when Archer takes him out of his underwear, the thick hot cock swelling further in his hand. Archer loves POV porn where you can see the guy looking up when he takes the dick in his mouth so he does just that, glancing at Beau when he curls his lips over his teeth and slides the mushroom head past his lips.

Beau’s cock doesn’t taste like anything weird, it’s got a clean and soapy smell to it, and the skin is smooth like velvet. Archer feels how his face gets hot, his own cock kicking at the glide of the cock deeper into his mouth.

“That’s right, princess,” Beau whispers and Archer moans against the cock. “You love sucking my cock, you little slut. God, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Archer bobs his head on the cock, focusing on keeping his lips tight. He can’t take all of Beau, but he tries anyway, spurred by Beau saying things.

“Fuck, baby,” Beau moans, his hand tightening in Archer’s hair. “Your mouth is perfect, keep going.”

But Archer is pretty sure he’s not good at this, no matter how enthusiastic he is about it. He keeps going, but he can’t get the rhythm right, and he doesn’t fail to notice how once when he takes Beau really, really deep, he hears a hiss above him. His teeth must have scraped the side of Beau’s cock, and Archer feels his cheeks heat with embarrassment. He likes doing it, it turns him on, but it also frustrates him how he can't get it right. Beau is riding the wave, but Archer’s mouth is never going to get him off.

“Is it good?” He licks the head, waiting for Beau’s appraisal.

“It feels so good, sweetheart, you’re doing great.” Beau keeps his eyes closed, his fingers still stroking Archer’s hair. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Archer says, “but I’m not any good at it.” It stings to admit on both counts. “Sorry.”

“Princess, Arch, baby.” Beau sighs. “You’re doing so well, I promise. Do you want to keep at it or do you want me to show you?”

“Show me,” Archer says. He feels awkward, but he’s still horny and his embarrassment at his own lack of skill hasn’t made a dent in his own desire to come. His cock strains his underwear and it kicks at the thought of Beau’s mouth on it.

Beau gets up and grins, kissing Archer to push him down on the bed. It should be gross, but it isn’t. Beau makes everything feel so comfortable and good, almost normal. He touches Archer’s chest and his fingers slide over Archer’s nipples, making them harden. Beau does everything expertly, even stripping Archer down to nothing. Beau opens his thighs to sit between them, fingers inching towards Archer’s groin.

“You look so lovely like this,” Beau teases.

Archer doesn’t think he looks anything but wrecked, his hard cock leaking at the tip untouched. Beau seems determined to have his hands all over him, but all the wrong places. He strokes Archer’s inner thighs, cups his balls, another hand petting his abdomen.

“Please,” he moans, hoping to sway Beau to just get that mouth on Archer’s cock.

“Please what?” Beau asks, voice low as his mouth dips to kiss over Archer’s hip .

“Please suck on my clit, Beau,” Archer pleads and it’s so fucked up, how that does it. Beau’s hand wraps around his cock, tightening at the base before his beautiful mouth takes in the throbbing head. Archer closes his eyes, unable to watch as Beau slides him further in, hungry and filthy moans vibrating against the skin of his cock.

Beau is so thorough in the way he takes him. The hand wrapped around his cock also cups his tight balls, the palm big and firm against them. Beau takes him to the root and then takes his cock out of his mouth, tapping the head against the flat of his tongue. He smiles as he looks up at Archer.

“What do you like best, princess?”

“Anything, I’m so close. You’re so good at this.”

“Don’t hold back, baby, I want you to come all over my mouth. I want to taste you for days, baby. You're so wet for me.” Then Beau takes him in again, bobbing his head with the perfect, tight pace that pushes Archer’s hips off the bed.

It truly doesn’t take long after that, Beau’s tongue sliding over the underside of his cock, swirling around the tip of his dick. He sucks off the drops of precome, and keeps going, only increasing the pace when Archer’s thighs tremble with the edge of release.

“I’m coming,” Archer gasps as a warning, but Beau doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop or spit, he drinks it all. The orgasm stripes his chin, and Archer has never seen anything sexier in his life, Beau’s face pink and his lips wet and red and his tongue licking to catch the rest of Archer’s come. “Fuck me,” he says.

Beau grins. “You did so well, baby.”

“I want to do that for you,” Archer says. “Can you come in my mouth?”

“Anything for you,” Beau says, walking on his knees up the bed so his still-hard cock is pointed straight at Archer’s mouth. “My lovely, pretty cockslut.”

Archer wants to protest that he’s not pretty or a cockslut, but he’s still too loose and turned on by the experience, his brain liquid after Beau’s mouth wrecked him. He sticks out his tongue like he’s seen in a million pornos and waits as Beau fists his cock, slapping the head against Archer’s tongue until his hips drive forward an inch and Archer is sucking Beau’s come out of him.

It’s so weird. It’s so good, the hottest thing he’s ever done. He wishes his mouth got Beau there, his mouth alone. He needs that experience, he decides, he wants to practise every chance he gets, until Beau can come from his mouth alone.

“Oh my god, Arch,” Beau moans afterwards, watching as Archer licks him off eagerly. “Arch,” he says again, hand heavy at the crown of Archer’s head.

Archer really likes to hear his name come out Beau’s mouth like that. Then, he likes a lot of things about Beau. He likes everything about Beau.

“Do you prefer it when I call you princess?” Beau asks. They’re just lounging around with Netflix running some stupid show in the background, takeaway meals eaten and leftovers in the fridge. Beau smoked a joint, and the room carries the scent still, even though the put the AC on and everything.

Archer swallows, because even at this mellow, comfortable state, addressing it isn’t what he wants. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Beau lets out a laugh and sits up. “Is that a yes, then?”

Archer says nothing. Can’t they just be and do without talking about it? If they talk about it, it all becomes real, when it isn’t. What happens at Beau’s place is not anything at all, if Archer doesn’t want it to be.

“Baby,” Beau says, “look at me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Archer says. “It’s cool.”

“So if I say, I really want to fuck you this weekend, what’s your answer, princess?” Beau’s voice is silky and persuasive, as if Archer needs any more persuading. The thunk of his heart hits heavy in his chest and his palms are sweaty.

“Sure,” he says.

“I’m going to need more than a sure, you know.” Beau’s hand slides up his thigh. “I want you to be into it.”

“I will be, yeah. I’m always into it,” Archer says. His face is hot, and he doesn’t like that he has to convince Beau to do it. It’s all they’ve talked about, right? It’s what he imagines every fucking time he jerks off now, with or without Beau’s voice there with him. “Please,” he adds, the little hook that makes Beau pull him closer.

Beau’s hand presses against his hardening cock over the fabric of his sweatpants, an insistent pressure. Beau leans closer to whisper in his ear. “I won’t make you beg, baby, but please just say it once so I know you want it as badly as I do.”

“Please fuck me, Beau,” Archer says before Beau kisses him, a light, teasing one.

“Tomorrow,” Beau promises. The last day they have to do anything, and to do everything. “Tomorrow, princess,” and his hand wraps tight around Archer’s cock and pulls.

The Sunday starts awkwardly in bed together, when Archer doesn’t know whether to touch Beau or not. He wants to, is the thing. Beau looks so fucking good, even in his sleep: his handsome face relaxed against the pillow, muscles of his back soft.

Archer doesn’t allow himself to touch Beau. He has to stay on that tightrope of normalcy so he just nudges Beau’s shoulder. “Hey bro, what do you wanna do for breakfast?”

Beau takes a while to blink the sleep out of his eyes, and it looks adorable as fuck, making Archer’s heart lurch to one side uncomfortably. “Shower,” Beau mumbles.

Archer doesn’t realize Beau means to shower together, tugging Archer’s underwear down his hips as they kiss. Beau tastes like toothpaste and he laughs into the kiss, like he’s excited.

“Relax, Arch.” Beau’s hands soap up his body, and Archer feels drunk with sleepiness even under the warm shower. He lets Beau, trusts Beau, even as his hands stop washing and slide into the space between his thighs. His hands open Archer up enough to trace a wet, careful finger over Archer’s hole, which tightens at the touch.

“Jesus,” Archer hisses.

“Fuck, baby, let me,” Beau says. He works his fingers into Archer, stretching him. “Is it okay? You’re so fucking tight, Arch. Going to need to get you opened up for my cock.”

“It’s good.” Archer’s body moves towards the touch as Beau fucks him open with fingers beneath the spray of the shower. His face is hot, but tries to focus on the feeling, the pressure unwinding something within him, and the soothing hand on his hip.

“Love how your pussy feels, baby.” Beau’s cock is hard already, brushing along Archer’s thigh. “Can’t wait to fuck you, princess. Tell me this isn’t your first time with a guy.”

His fingers curl to force a choked moan out of Archer. He’s embarrassed and terrified, but the truth slips out anyway. “It is.”

“Fuck.” Beau lets out a low noise and his hand on Archer’s hip turns him around. Beau kisses him, fingers slipping, but still hooked on his rim, holding him open. He pulls back between kisses, enough to tell Archer something. “I’m going to make it so good for you, sweetheart. I’m so fucking honored to be your first.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Archer feels dizzy, holding onto Beau’s shoulder as he’s still being kissed, his hole still feeling Beau’s hand and the hot water sliding over it. He wants to tell Beau he’s had tons of sex with women, but he doesn’t want to think about that at all, not when he’s under Beau’s touch like this.

“It’s hot, though.” Beau smiles, pulling off and turning off the water. “My pretty girl. I’m going to wreck your virgin pussy, make you come on a cock for the first time.”

Archer isn’t prepared to argue with that, so instead he kisses Beau again, sinking deeper into the feeling that overwhelms him. His cock is hot and desperate between their bodies, rubbing idly against the flat of Beau’s abs, but the slippery skin makes the friction not enough. His hole throbs now that Beau is no longer touching it.

Beau doesn’t seem to care about getting his bed wet. He arranges Archer onto his back, his knees pushed up and open, before getting on the bed himself with a small pump bottle of lube and a condom packet. Archer leans back, trying to breathe out every nerve in his body that tenses him up at the thought of Beau actually fucking him.

A hand slides over his hip, down to his cock, tugging it slowly before leaving . “Relax when I push in, baby. You can tighten around my cock when you feel the pressure. I’ll work it in so gradually you won’t even notice. I want you to feel it, but if it gets too much, tell me and we can stop, do something else.”

Archer bites down on his lip. “Okay.”

“I’ve done this before, but never with a girl as pretty as you,” Beau tells him, sliding on the condom as he talks. “Never had a chance to be with someone for their first time. You’re so fucking hot like this, baby, you have no idea. I can’t wait to make you come on my cock.” He leans down to kiss Archer, needy and hot.

Archer relaxes as Beau kisses him. He feels slightly cool lube being pressed into his hole by clever, long fingers, and then the blunt pressure of Beau’s cock. It’s so intimate it kills him, even with Beau groaning against the kiss. He closes his eyes and unclenches just as Beau rolls his hips, fucking deeper into him. Beau’s cock is big, but it doesn’t hurt, it’s just an adjustment, a pleasantly hot pressure against his spine that makes Archer’s mouth fall open in a silent moan. Beau hovers above him, arms on either side of his torso, putting his full weight only on his hips as he starts fucking Archer. He works his cock deliberately and carefully at first, no big movements until he’s all the way in, bottomed out with his balls tight against the entrance. It’s the most inctredible fucking feeling in the world.

“You feel that, baby?” Beau dips his head down to kiss Archer’s chin. “You took all of my cock, princess. Your pussy is so fucking tight and wet, just perfect.” He thrusts in a little harder to make his point.

“It’s so big,” Archer mumbles, which makes Beau laugh. He fucks Archer, small, shallow thrusts, until Archer tilts his hips further into him. “Harder,” he whines, like he needs it, because he knows the shallow pressure isn’t enough, the times he’s fucked himself he knows he needs it faster and deeper to get off, maybe with a hand on his dick at the same time.

“Harder?” Beau rolls his hips extra slowly, teasing. “You love my cock already, don’t you baby? Even your tight virgin pussy needs to be fucked harder.”

“Yes,” Archer admits, heat painting his cheeks. He dares to open his eyes and watch Beau fuck harder into him, pounding as his eyes focus on Archer’s wrecked expression. Beau’s eyes are a swirl of dark and gold. He drags his cock out slower and then thrusts back in with the full weight of his body. Archer grips his shoulders and his eyes close again, mouth falling open. He can’t help but moan and cry with each tight punch of Beau’s cock into him, feeling the pace get faster.

“I’m close, baby.” Beau sits back on his heels suddenly, slipping out of him momentarily as he wraps a tight hand around Archer’s cock. “Need you to come first, alright?”

Archer agrees with a shaky nod, and then Beau is back inside him. He clenches tight around the cock as he feels Beau’s hand work his own, Beau’s other hand closing around his hip to keep him positioned there. His hands hold onto Beau’s wrists gently as he focuses on the feeling of getting fucked and his cock jerked in roughly the same, slow rhythm.

“Jesus, Arch, if you could see yourself right now.” Beau sounds as hot as Archer feels. “I need you to come on my cock, baby, let me take care of you. You look so pretty on my cock, the sexiest cockslut I’ve ever been with. I want to see you come, princess.”

It’s overwhelming and he can’t even be embarrassed over the sounds he makes as Beau pushes him over the edge, lightning sparking in his eyes. He shudders, spills. He’s wrecked, and Beau is not even done, letting out a dark groan before kissing Archer again, hips punching into his tender ass with new, desperate force.

“Arch, baby–” Beau manages before gritting his teeth, the last jerky thrust halted by the sheer force of his orgasm. Archer feels Beau’s body relax over his own, the tell-tale slump before Beau sighs and forces himself to pull out.

“I’m hungry,” Archer says after Beau has stopped kissing him and whispering praise into his ear, and Beau laughs.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, but still presses a kiss against Archer’s ear.

“Was it, uh, good?” Archer asks once they’re coffee and breakfast burritos on Beau’s kitchen island.

Beau’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “It was amazing, baby.”

Archer is happy about that, because he kind of wants to do it again before he has to leave, but he isn’t sure how to ask for it. After eating, Beau suggests a nap, which is ridiculous, but Archer agrees to it anyway.

Beau slips into bed with him and curls around his back. Archer twists his head to kiss Beau, tasting dark roasted coffee and vanilla creamer, and Beau’s fingers draw circles against his navel. It doesn’t take long unless he’s hard himself, and feels the long line of Beau’s cock pressing between his ass cheeks.

“Fuck me,” Archer moans against the kiss, and it’s kind of pathetic, but it gets the job done.

“You’re killing me, Arch.” Beau sounds happy, though, and he presses Archer stomach down on the mattress, works his boxer briefs off him. He scrambles for the condom from the bedside drawer and pushes Archer’s thighs apart with new impatience.

The way he fucks Archer this time is less slow and measured, more frantic and less in control. He holds Archer down and calls him a needy little cockslut, and it turns Archer’s brain into mush, his body tightening up quickly with urgent release.

“Can’t get enough of my cock, can you, princess?” Beau asks him, and Archer can’t admit it, because Beau’s cock is punching his prostate just right and the world around him is getting blurry.

When he comes for the second time today, he cries out Beau’s name, and it would be embarrassing if it wasn’t also the best orgasm of his life.

They do actually fall asleep, curled around each other.

Leaving Beau’s place is difficult. It’s as if a portal exists between his front door and the world, and Archer knows that on some level what happened with Beau is going to seem so different once he gets outside that door. But he’s got a normal shift on Monday, and so he has to leave on Sunday night to drive home to get to bed early, even if Beau’s hands bunch in his shirt or Beau’s mouth is persuasive enough that he wants, desperately wants, to stay.

“Drive safe,” Beau says to him, stepping back so Archer isn’t close enough to pull into another long kiss.

“I always do, bro,” Archer replies and turns around before he can linger on the slow grin on Beau’s face, the way his head tilts, tongue coming out to trace a bottom lip before his hands would pull Archer close to him again.

It’s torture that he has to think of such possibilities on the drive home, and it’s even worse when the anxiety of leaving twists into something darker. Reality sets in, about half-way through the drive. Archer watches the highway curve ahead of him and grips the wheel and sits with the uncomfortable feeling. What the fuck did he just do, and worse, what does it say about him?

Suddenly he’s angry, but it’s not an anger directed at anyone but himself. He’s so fucking stupid, because all his life he had everything under control and then he just abandons that tightly held grasp on his life and chases pleasure for some fucked up thrills. Panic tightens his chest, but he’s going to handle it on the drive. He’s not going to be a wimp about this.

He takes a turn to a gas station to fill up his tank and breathe in the cool evening air, even with the scent of gasoline mixing with it. He tops up his tank and he goes to the bathroom and he gets a soda. It’s fine. It’s over now. He’s gotten through it, and he’s come out on the other side, and he’s no longer the person he was in Beau’s apartment, in Beau’s bed or under his fingers. He’s not that guy, and he will never again be that guy, and he can just shut that memory down like he’s done all the other ones over the years.

The rest of the drive home is better, easier: he doesn’t have to think about anything but how it’s over and what he might do next. Some vindictive, ugly side of him wants to take his phone out and block Beau’s number, jump on the game as soon as he gets home and unfriend his alias there, too. Just get rid of him, like he’s gotten rid of those who know and those who might have guessed, because it’s not worth keeping someone around who knows. It’s too much, too dangerous to risk.

But Beau will get it, he wants to believe. Beau hasn’t ever forced his hand, hasn’t gotten a step wrong in the careful dance Archer always has to do. Beau is solid. Beau will get it when he reverts back to just videogame talk and doesn’t bring up anything about the weekend.

It’s good that they’re guys, and guys don’t talk about that kind of thing. His first girlfriend, back when he tried that sort of thing, was so exhaustingly understanding with how much she wanted to talk about it. All she saw was one clip bookmarked on his browser, because he didn’t realize she was techsavvy enough to know you could bookmark shit during anonymous browsing. She said it was a mistake, but Archer suspects to this day that she snooped, but it didn’t matter because instead of being angry she was so understanding.

“Arch, please just talk to me about it when you’re ready,” she begged and his heart sank when he knew he had to dump her.

If she’d been angry, it would have been one thing, but she was so fine with it he couldn’t have her around putting clues together. So she had to go and that was the last time he tried, and maybe he should have tried harder so he wouldn’t be in the mess he’s in today. She was a nice girl, and he was such an asshole.

He settles on the couch at home, checks his phone. Beau texted during the drive, three foolish words: miss you already

Archer presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, because he can’t do anything else right now. His breaths break up, too shallow, stuttering out of his chest as his eyes sting. He’s too raw by the experience, too exhausted by the drive. He just can’t, and he won’t, and he refuses to.

He goes to bed without texting Beau back.

Two days later after work he turns to the internet for advice, but it’s as unuseful as it ever was. It’s all this fluff about accepting yourself and being at peace with your truest desires. But Archer’s truest desires are that he wants to be normal and not have this flaw in himself and the only websites catering to that are some religious stuff. He doesn’t want that, either, because he knows it doesn’t work and also, it’s total bullshit.

Beau texts him again, hey you okay?

Because it’s a normal text, in a normal context, Archer gives himself permission to reply: yeah just chillin after work, might go running later.

His stomach drops when Beau sends back a heart emoji, like what the fuck. He’s not allowed to do that, but Archer can’t say that, so he just has to leave it alone. He changes into his running gear and allows his mind to go blank during the run, but the weather is too hot for running and he has to go home too early.

His strategy doesn’t seem to work in the light of day: ignore Beau when he does this heart emoji shit, but interact with him as normal when he’s just talking about GAL or life or other normal stuff. Beau is a smart guy, he can take the hint. But it almost seems like Beau doesn’t want to get it, because his next text is undeniably flirty: send me a selfie when you come back from the run.

Then another message, this time a photo of Beau himself, looking relaxed on his couch. There’s nothing suggestive about the photo, he’s still in his suit and he looks slightly high, but his big hand is on his thigh, so close to his crotch that–

Archer looks at the picture, biting into his lower lip.

His heart thunks in his ears. He throws his phone face down, and takes a shower, but he’s too wound up to do anything but reach down and get himself off with his hand, hunched over until the shower can wash away his shame. He wishes he thought about anything else, but all he can think about is Beau, smiling down at him in the morning sun spilling into the bedroom, Beau’s hand tracing his abs, Beau’s mouth on his own, Beau’s cock rockhard yet silky smooth in his hand.

He has to stop. He gets out of the shower and breathes, in and out, and wraps a towel around his waist. It’s cool, he got it out of his system.

But then he gets a stupid, dangerous thought.

He takes a photo of the fogged up mirror in his bathroom, his chest pink from the warm shower and his cheeks red from the orgasm, but his muscles look taut and defined after the run.

He’s not going to send it. That would be so fucking dumb, but his heart is still leaping in his chest and he doesn’t type anything, he just flicks his thumb to select the photo and send it, and that’s that. He can just forget about it, even with the pulse in his ears, his cock twitching like it’s ready for another around.

now i need a cold shower arrives Beau’s reply, and Archer is going to die.

oh yeah is all he types in response.

He gets back a photo that doesn’t need an explanation, a familiar tent in Beau’s dark grey boxer briefs and Beau’s big hand right next to it. Archer’s cock fills up in record time.

you look so pretty, baby. can i call you

No, they shouldn’t. They can’t. It’s not going to happen.

But when Beau calls, Archer is already tugging at his cock, staring at the photo Beau sent. He accepts the call and doesn’t even say anything, just breathes down the line as Beau tells him all the things he misses about Archer: Archer’s cock in his mouth, Archer’s body in his bed, Archer’s smile in the mornings, Archer’s ass tight around his own cock.

“Beau,” Archer whines seconds before he comes all over his fist, the second orgasm more raw and vulnerable. His cheeks are on fire and he’s biting into his lip as to not make a sound, even though he knows Beau would want to hear it all.

“Fuck, I miss you,” Beau says. “I don’t want to be weird, but I wish you were here again.”

“Yeah.” Archer feels the climax fade away slowly, his breathing evening out. He’ll agree, but he can’t ever visit Beau again. He just can’t. “I need to, uhh, go. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Beau sniffs, like he’s also trying to clear his head of this mess they’re in. “We can do a mission sometime this week, if you like.”

That is normal and fine. “Sure, sounds good.”

“And I can come visit next weekend,” Beau says.

“Yeah, cool.” Archer’s pulse picks up at the thought. What he wants is for the experience of last weekend to fade into the background of their friendship, completely unspoken. What he wants is for Beau to be his boring, normal friend with nothing weird between them.

“If you’re cool with that,” Beau adds, like he’s deliberately giving Archer an opening to say no.

But he doesn’t want to, because saying no might make Beau ask why, and explaining why would be too much. He’d prefer it for them to just continue as if nothing happened, because nothing has happened. What happened wasn’t anything, if Archer decides it’s nothing.

“It’s cool,” he says, and wipes the mess on his hand onto his t-shirt, gross as it is. “We can hang.”

“Yeah, sweet,” Beau agrees, and that’s that.

It isn’t anything if he doesn’t want it to be, and he won’t let it.

He deletes the photo Beau sent him of his cock, hard and trapped in underwear. Then during a weak moment, he removes the photo from the trash folder on his phone and jerks off to it, just to prove to himself that it’s not a big deal, it’s not even a dick pic, and then he deletes the photo again. Then he undeletes it, because it’s whatever. It’s just a photo.

The week goes by in a flash, and they play twice together. Both times Beau’s voice in his headset gets silky and deep, but neither of them say anything weird or sexual. Everything is so normal between them that Archer almost starts to believe Beau will arrive at his place and just hang out like bros do, maybe play GAL, maybe drink beer, maybe go see a movie or get Mexican food or something. Boring-ass regular stuff.

Yet the moment Beau walks through the front door of his apartment, he feels the vibe shift, the hairs on his arms standing up in anticipation.

Beau’s smile is slow. “Missed you, Arch.” He runs a hand through his hair, which makes the muscles on his arm flex in a way that’s all too distracting.

“What do you mean? We talk all the time.”

“Not enough for me, princess,” Beau says and takes a step closer, into Archer’s space. His fingers run a line over the belt loops of Archer’s jeans before hooking under one and pulling him closer.

Archer doesn’t have to move, but he does. “I’m not –” But Beau is so close, tilting his face and leaning in. “A princess,” Archer finishes, which makes Beau smile just before the kiss.

It’s a sweet kiss, deepening gradually, Beau’s hand in his hair. Archer feels intoxicated by it, the warm hand beneath his shirt exploring new skin and the other one holding his head. He doesn’t want to ever stop, even as arousal warms his belly and makes his own hands wander. Beau is perfect in every angle of his body and every curve of muscle. Just being able to touch him like this makes Archer’s cheeks hot, his lips open with shallow breaths.

“I want to fuck you again,” Beau says into the kiss. “Do you want that, too, baby?”

“Yes.” Archer pulls apart long enough for Beau to get his t-shirt off his back, his hands soon finding Archer’s own. “I want to suck you off first, though,” and he feels heat in the tips of his ears, but he’s thought about it a lot and he’s especially thought of how he won’t get better at it by just thinking about it.

“Fuck, Arch,” Beau groans. His hand lands on Archer’s shoulder, not pushing, but Archer takes the hint anyway to kneel down and help Beau’s cock out of his jeans and underwear, not satisfied until it’s throbbing in his hand.

He knows he won't be much better at it this time than last, but he wants to try. Beau tastes of salt and skin, and Archer is obsessed with the way the head of Beau's cock moves against his tongue. Beau groans, hand sliding to cup Archer’s cheek and Archer knows he's teasing, but he wants to prolong the event. He wants to learn everything about how to make Beau feel good.

“Is that okay?” He pulls off long enough to look up and see Beau flushed and breathing hard.

“It's so good,” Beau gasps, “please, baby keep going.”

Archer grins before he does, chest warmed with satisfaction on how quickly he's managed to get Beau desperate with his mouth.

Once they're in bed, Beau is in a playful mood. His heavy lidded eyes travel all over Archer before turning him over and positioning him stomach down.

“Should I work you open for my cock, princess?” Beau asks, hands kneading both cheeks of Archer’s ass, opening them so Beau can see his hole tighten at the question.

“I–I already prepped.” Archer flushes at the admission. “With a toy, before you arrived.”

Beau tuts. “You're such an eager slut. But–” and his hand moves between Archer’s thighs, possessively cupping his ass. “You need to understand something sweetheart. Your pussy now belongs to me.”

Archer has never heard anything hotter, so for a moment he's too stunned to say anything. His dick leaks against the sheets, and he squirms between Beau's touch and the bed. “O-oh yeah?”

“My cock took your virginity, princess. That means nobody else can fuck this sweet pussy of yours until I'm done with it.” Beau opens his thighs and traces a finger over the tight entrance, still slick with lube after Archer fucked himself with a toy. “That means that whenever you touch yourself you need to think about my cock filling you up as you’re meant to be.”

“I always do,” Archer says, because it's true. “I promise, Beau.”

“You should have told me, baby. Sounds like you've been a bad girl, fingering your pussy without my permission.” Beau’s voice is low and gravelly, and his hand is now on Archer’s glute. “Such a pretty slut you are. What should I do with such a bad girl?”

“You could spank me.” Archer wants to die for saying it, but also. He's been thinking about it a lot as of late. Beau is strong enough to make it hurt, but not too much. Beau would make it good for him.

“Fuck, baby.” Beau leans down to kiss his shoulder. “That's a brilliant idea. I'm going to spank you and then fuck you to remind you whose cock you belong to.”

Then his hand lifts and comes down with a force that shocks Archer and burns his skin. He jolts on the bed, but the stinging soon gives way to a nice warmth on his ass cheek.

“So who do you belong to, Arch?” Beau asks softly.

“You, Beau.” Archer answers right before the second, harder smack. His muscles go taut after, then slowly relax before the next blow, and the next, and the next.

Beau touches over the hot skin tenderly. “Baby, you're so good at taking the punishment. Look at how well you're doing. I can't resist you, you're the prettiest thing I've ever fucked.”

“Beau,” Archer pleads, but Beau's arm keeps him pinned down on the bed. It's a nice, tight hold, making him feel protected, even as his skin burns.

“No, baby. You can take it, can’t you? Just a little more.”

A little more turns into a lot more, because somehow the pain turns into searing pleasure and instead of grunting Archer starts moaning at each smack. He's raw, skin tender and his cock is so hard he feels dizzy. He takes it, though, with a little more goading from Beau, and the pain starts edging with more pleasure. Beau's weight on his thighs, Beau's hand caressing the area he just smacked; he likes it, because he trusts Beau to do it right. He ends up begging for Beau to fuck him, to drive him over the edge, his brain overwhelmed with the way that pain kept him on the edge.

When Beau thrusts into him, he feels it everywhere, his toes curling against the bed with the sensation. It doesn’t hurt, not precisely, but he’s so tender all over that it feels like so much more than it usually does. He loves it. Beau's cock is a thick, hot rod of pressure and every thrust jolts the sensitive skin on his ass.

“There you go, princess,” Beau tells him. “You were such a good girl, taking your punishment.”

“I’m close,” Archer gasps, but he doesn’t know if he is, it’s all just too much.

“Of course you are.” Beau’s voice is low and rumbling. He rolls his hips and Archer can feel the backs of Beau’s thighs against his ass, the weight of his balls against his own. His head is spinning. “You’re going to come on my cock, because you’re my girl now, Arch.”

Then Beau fucks into him harder, pushing his hips up slightly for a different angle and Archer’s world slips from around him. The shudder starts at his core and goes through him as a wave. He comes so hard it’s a little scary and a lot embarrassing, he’s practically drooling against the pillow.

Beau pets his hair, then grasps it tight as he fucks Archer through it. It doesn’t take long until he crashes over the edge himself and when he slumps over Archer, still recovering from his own orgasm, Archer can feel Beau’s heartbeat against his shoulder blade. It’s weird. It’s so intense. He doesn’t want it to ever stop.

“Wow,” is the only thing Beau says for a while, before pulling out gingerly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby. Do you want a drink?”

“Just stay near me,” Archer asks.

“Of course.” Beau gets back into bed, pulling Archer’s body against his own. “You did so well. You’re the best, Arch, you have no idea. I’m so lucky to have found you.”

Archer should probably say something nice back, but he feels drained. He relaxes against the light kisses Beau presses against the nape of his neck, and falls asleep.

They fuck again in the morning, and then they get food, and then they fuck again and shower.

Archer wants to suggest something else, maybe going out, but he’s too tender and Beau doesn’t seem interested in doing anything but lounging around in bed, enjoying Archer’s company.

“What do you think about becoming exclusive?” Beau asks lightly, his fingers drawing patterns on the small of Archer’s back.

Archer doesn’t want to open his eyes, but the question makes his jaw tighten against the pillow. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I know it’s so early, but like – I’m into this, and I could see–” Beau lets out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe just so I could fuck you raw. Maybe for some other reasons, too.”

Panic flushes Archer’s chest, first hot then sheer cold. This can’t be happening. “I’m not gay, Beau.” He feels a creak in his jaw when he says it.

“You don’t have to be out,” Beau says quickly. “I’ve dated guys in the closet before, it’s cool. I just want– You don’t have to figure yourself out now. It’s cool. I’m not putting any pressure on you to label yourself. I’m fine with what we have now.”

Archer gets up. He moves methodically, putting his clothes on. His cheeks are on fire, but his hands work fast until he realizes he’s in his own apartment. Where the fuck is he going to go? He has to face it head on.

“You don’t get it.” His throat is tight. “I’m not– I’m not ever going to be.” He swallows words he knows you’re not supposed to say, cruel words he knows he doesn’t really mean. “You should leave, dude. Like, right now.”

Beau’s face is flushed and wounded. “Arch,” he says, voice low. “Don’t do this. Let’s just talk about it.”

“No, you don’t get it. I told you to leave.” He means it, but his heart is going to crack open his ribs, his throat is going to seal up until Beau just goes, leaves him the fuck alone.

If Beau leaves, he’s going to be fine. He will be able to breathe again and not have the hot cluster of panic squeeze his chest quite so tight. He’ll still be a fucking mess, but he’s been a mess for twenty some years, he can fucking handle that, too.

“I’m not leaving if you’re having a panic attack.” Beau’s hand is on his shoulder and he flinches so that it falls off of him. “It’s been an intense weekend. You might be having a reaction–”

“I’m cool, dude.”

“I don't think you are, Arch,” Beau says softly.

“Don’t touch me,” Archer warns, but Beau is not touching him and he wishes so badly Beau was.

Beau’s brows come together in a frown, a tight expression that makes Archer’s heart ache even more. It’s not fair for Beau to act like it’s something fine and normal, and they can just keep going. It’s not fair that Beau started this, that Archer had the kernel of whatever the fuck this is inside of him, for Beau’s affection to grow it into something bigger and more intrusive than it’s been in years. He hates Beau for that, and he hates himself, too, because if he wasn’t like this, whatever Beau gave him would be something he could reject. Would want to reject, laugh off, “fuck that, dude, you’re being weird” instead of getting closer until Beau consumed him altogether.

“I’m not touching you,” Beau says. “I’m just here. I don’t want to leave. I’ve been where you’re at. Let’s just talk this through, Arch.”

“No, we’re not the same,” Archer says, taking a step back even though Beau’s not reaching out to him. “Because you actually like it. I don’t, and I don’t want to, and I never fucking will.”

Cool steel moves over Beau’s features, the frown disappearing. “Okay, I get it. I’ll leave you to it, before you say something you regret. God knows I used to say shit I now wish I could take back.” He ducks his head, failing to meet Archer’s eyes. “I’m sorry if I did anything that you– No, I’m not sorry, because I know you wanted it, too. But I am leaving, so you can sit with that on your own.”

Archer stands there, focusing on breathing. In and out, easy, slower, his hands balling into fists and opening as he does. He hears Beau pack up his things, hears the gentle swing of the door, the click of the lock going into place.

It doesn’t make it better, though, it somehow feels worse. Now he’s alone, and the warmth of panic in his chest gives way to cold, heavy pain. He wants to curl up in bed and never move again.

He goes for a run so the pain can transfer onto his muscles, the rise and fall of his breaths, the rabbit pace of his heartbeat actually counting for something as he moves.

It doesn’t help. None of it helps.

The next week is a weighted blanket of misery over his back. He sits through work with no energy, and goes to bed as soon as he gets home. On Thursday his brothers invite Archer out to drink, and he goes, but he ends up crying over his drink like a little bitch. It’s a blank, dark feeling, not cleared up by tears or drunken stupor. He wipes his cheeks quickly, but his brothers have already noticed.

“What’s her name?” his brother Clay asks, a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just some gaming shit.” Archer sniffs, wipes his tears again even though they already saw.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Clay says. His other brother Curtis makes a little tutting sound.

“I know, it sounds pathetic, but it’s just some drama. I don’t know. I’ll get over it.” Archer’s hand tightens around the neck of his beer bottle. He can’t show them more than this. It’s already embarrassing that he got so overwhelmed that he just– he can’t show them more than this.

“It might help to talk about it,” Curtis says slowly.

“About his gaming bullshit?” Clay barks out a laugh. “No, bro, he just needs to get laid. This is ridiculous. Your ass needs to get out more, Archy. The world doesn’t exist in a fucking XBox.”

“I don’t need to get laid,” Archer says.

“When’s the last time you did?” Clay goads him.

“None of your business.”

“So it’s definitely been a while. Checkmate.”

“Fuck off. Nobody says ‘checkmate’ except boomers. You don’t even know how to play chess.” Archer folds his arms and looks at the table they’re sitting at. Anywhere but at his brothers.

Curtis laughs. “Chess is basically bullshit. They’re all cheating using anal beads.”

“That sounds fake and gay,” Clay says. “I’m trying to be supportive. Arch, let’s go out, I’ll wingman. Curt, doesn't Deanna have some cute younger friends? Unless Arch is into cougars.”

“A thirty year old is not a goddamn cougar,” Curtis disagrees. “And don’t say ‘gay’ as an insult. Who the fuck raised you?”

“It’s a meme, jackass. You just called chess full of anal beads.” Clay looked from Curtis to Archer. “I don’t think being gay is a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” Archer says quietly.

“Join the current century, dude.” Curtis gives him a hard look. “Is that your stupid drama? You called someone gay and they got offended? That’s some 2005 bullshit. I thought you young people were above that.”

“No,” Archer says. “Yes, kind of. I don’t know. It’s all a mess in my head.”

“Don’t go around calling people gay unless you’re sucking their dick,” Clay jokes.

Archer grinds his teeth together, but his cheeks must have inflamed with embarrassment, because Curtis just keeps looking at him and then says: “Bro.”

“It’s not–” Archer tries, but the embarrassment mixes with the tight feeling in his chest when he thinks of the easy way he could be with Beau, and how he fucked that all up. He opens his mouth to say something, but it’s easier to say nothing and bury his face in his hands, press the heels of his palms into his eyes, just try to forget his brothers are watching him fall apart. “Sorry, I don’t know– I must be so fucking drunk.”

“You had like three beers,” Clay tells him.

Fuck this, and fuck them for the way that they seem to see through him all of the sudden. He can’t always flee, and he knows Curtis especially will go after him, grab his arm and ask what the fuck is wrong with him, and apparently nothing is.

Everyone else is fine with whatever he is, except he himself. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

Archer can’t even open up the main menu of GAL without reminders of Beau, because the game loads in team up mode unless he goes into the settings. The two avatars hover together on the sides of the menu, like two judges waiting for him to adjust the settings, boot Beau’s hulking Sempre off into the digital space and out of his life.

But he can’t do it, because so many of the in-game achievements are tied to their two-person team. If he loses Beau, he loses his Ore Miner boost, which makes his weapons better. If he loses Beau, his Ethefi no longer has the ability to fight Shadow Realm foes, because he needed Beau’s physical defence stats and even his own Shield spell was amplified by the presence of a high-level Sempre in his team.

It’s just not worth it anymore, so he goes and plays something else, but what he really wants to do is just play with Beau again. But then he would need to talk things out with Beau, and he truly doesn’t know what he could say to make things right.

If Beau had just believed him the first time, if Beau had worked around the borders he’d constructed for his very careful existence within them. If Beau hadn’t joked or pushed, or Archer had gotten angry at him, if Archer could have just lived with the truth unspoken between them, the way it was supposed to be.

But Beau is like, well-adjusted or whatever. Beau has a good job and a future, and he lives in a nice place in a big city. Archer is just some loser who can’t even come out of the closet, but who also can’t live normally and just date a girl, because it hurts. Why did Beau want him at all? Why did he keep pushing, when he knew Archer wouldn’t change by just being pushed?

Beau did want him, and probably shouldn’t want him anymore, and it’s fucked up that now Archer wants him and can’t have him. Even if he comes out, even if he apologizes for the things he said, even if he makes all the right moves, Beau would be right to tell him to fuck off.

He wants to try, though. Even if the end result is miserable failure, he wants to risk it.

He picks up his phone and taps the conversation he almost deleted, but didn’t.

hey can we talk he types, deletes, hey wyd he types again, deletes. i’m sorry, his fingers work faster than his head, i know that’s not enough but i rly am can we talk please and he hits send before he can second-guess that one, too.

He hates it the moment he sees it displayed in dark blue on the chain where the last message is Beau’s ETA 10 mins when he was getting gas in Archer’s hometown. He’s too vulnerable, too soft, just a miserable wimp asking for forgiveness when he did so much wrong.

The heavy feeling of regret weighs his chest when he thinks about how stupidly cold he was, when all he wanted was to be near Beau. He’s never asked for what he’s wanted, because he can’t, and he shouldn’t. But if he changes the fact he can’t, if he finally accepts he could, then maybe. But if Beau doesn’t accept that, that’s understandable, too.

Beau’s reply makes his heart drop. still at work. call you in 30

Just like that.

When Beau calls him, Archer lets it ring for one, two, three times before he picks up, because his heart is so high up in his throat he can barely get the first word out. “Hi,” he says, like a complete dumbass.

“Hi,” Beau says, his voice less light than usual. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, I just–” Archer takes a deep breath in. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m being so weird, and I was a total dick to you and I just want to be friends and normal now. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Beau says and audibly swallows. “I accept your apology, but I think we need to talk about some of the things you said to me. I meant it when I said I’ve been there, Arch. I’m not saying I have all the answers, but it might help to talk about how you’re feeling, maybe hear how I got through all that.”

Archer’s stomach tightens. Panic flutters in his chest. Beau is being so fucking understanding and he hates that. He hates that even though he’s been a complete dick, just like his ex-girlfriend, Beau wants to help him.

Because he needs the help, and he doesn’t want to think about that at all. “I don’t– can we just move on, please? I don’t know what to say about it.”

Beau sighs. “I know it’s difficult, baby. But let’s just try, alright?”

Archer stays silent, just breathing through the tightening in his chest, long enough that Beau speaks up again. “Like I said, I’ve been there. I was in such deep denial about it, until I moved to the city and realized I could go to bars and just be anonymous. Just be a guy who happens to fuck guys, and nobody would have to know if I’m gay or bi or have a girlfriend or what. It didn’t matter. I could just be myself, and not be myself, and not have to account for whatever I did.”

“Did you have a girlfriend, back then?” Archer asks. It’s safe to ask about Beau.

“No,” Beau says. “I used to, but we broke up after college. My ex, Eric, I met a year or so after I moved here. He’s a cool dude, we just weren’t a good match. He wanted someone more mature, who smoked less weed and played less video games, who knew shit about wines and could discuss opera with his mom. I don’t know.” Beau lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s kind of funny in retrospect how incompatible we were. Sex was good, though.”

Archer doesn’t really like to hear about Beau having sex with other dudes, but now that he knows Beau did it a lot, he feels his cheeks light up with shame at his own performance. The sex they had probably wasn’t as good for Beau, even though it was amazing for Archer. He feels like such a tool.

“Was Eric– uhh, out?” he asks, almost as if to torture himself more with knowledge of how good Eric was.

“Yeah, he was like, out-out. Even at work.” Beau’s phone scrapes his face, and it makes a scratchy sound in Archer’s ear. “I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever be. I don’t want my bosses or coworkers to know, but maybe eventually– I don’t know, dude. That’s what I mean, Arch, it’s so difficult, I know it is. But you don’t have to jump in with both feet first, you can do it gradually. I think the first step is just to admit it to yourself. Have you done that?”

“Yes,” Archer admits. He knows he’s like this, and that’s the problem. He can hide it from others, he’s pretty sure, but he can’t escape his own head.

“That’s good,” Beau says softly. “Have you known for a long time?”

“Yes.” Archer swallows. “Since I was a teen, maybe before. I’ve tried not to remember, you know.”

“I get it, trust me.” Beau quiets down, then speaks again with some hesitation. “I, ah. I don’t want you to freak out again, but back when we met at the party, I remember changing social media handles with you, and going through your profile. You had this video up your friend filmed – Dustin something, I think? I just kept watching it, over and over again so I could see your eyes when you smiled at him. And then I saw you’d liked a photo of mine from like four years ago, which means you went back on my profile a long fucking time, and I just thought, ‘hey, maybe this cute as fuck dude might be interested’. And then you never wanted to meet up in real life, so I just pushed it aside. I don’t know. It’s so stupid.”

Archer’s heart lurches, his palms sweating. He remembers that photo so well. Beau was smiling, his head ducked, at some college pool party. Light from the sun framed his brown hair like a goddamn halo, and he had a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head. He was wearing a white linen button down shirt, with enough buttons undone that the top of his chest was showing, golden in the sun. The short sleeves of the shirt fit too tight on his arms, so effortlessly sexy, but really it was his face that took Archer’s breath away.

He should have been more careful, but he guesses his finger slipped one of the four dozen or so times he looked up that photo. Then he decided he shouldn’t go on Beau’s social media anymore. It was bad to remember what Beau looked like; it was better to just remember him as the Sempre avatar. That was easy, it was just a guy in armor, not particularly ugly or attractive, just a video game character. The real Beau sparked all kinds of difficult to handle emotions.

“I thought we were just gaming buddies,” he said dumbly.

“And we were!” Beau laughs. “I didn’t want to push you. But you kind of gave me an opening, and I tested the waters, and well. You really are pretty.”

“Shut up,” Archer says, but he’s not mad. He’s never been mad at Beau, only re-directing anger at himself towards someone else, like a fucking asshole. “I have a beard.”

“But you trim it in a pretty way,” Beau teases.

“Weirdo.” Archer sighs. “I’m sorry I kicked you out.” The next words fall out of his mouth in a heap. “I’m sorry I was angry, because I couldn’t handle this part of myself. I didn’t want it, but I know it’s been a part of me long enough that I can’t get rid of it. You’re so fucking cool, and hot, and I’m just some loser whose head is such a mess.”

“You’re not a loser.” Beau sounds so gentle. “Fuck, I wish I was there. I’m so into you, you don’t even know. We can take it one step at a time, if you still like me.”

“I’m in love with you,” Archer says. “I think. I’m not just saying it. You don’t have to– but I do mean it, like, if you want. If you want to be with a mess.” The gap in his chest feels open and vulnerable, too bare and tender. But he also has to say it, because if Beau doesn’t feel the same way, maybe–

“Arch,” Beau says, voice thick with emotion. “Baby. I’m in love with you, too. I’m getting in the car right now.”

“It’s like 10PM,” Archer says.

“Don’t freak out on me, baby,” Beau says.

“I’m not. It’s just – you have work tomorrow.”

“I don’t give a shit, Arch. I want to be with you. Do you want me there?”

“Yes, always,” Archer says, because he does. He really, deeply fucking wants Beau.

“Arch. Fuck–” And the line goes dead before Archer hears noises from the other end, cloth scratching and metal clinking. “Talk to me, Arch. Please keep talking. I want to hear your voice the entire fucking drive, before you’re in my arms.”

“Okay,” Archer says, flush creeping up his chest. “Do you want me to –”

Beau laughs. “Shit no, I don’t need to get hard while I’m driving. Save that all for when I’m in your bed, baby.”

“Okay.” Archer’s brain goes blank. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Hmm. Tell me about why you liked that photo of me back in the day.” Beau’s voice is different, probably coming from his car’s speakers.

Archer flushes all the way up to his ears. “I don’t know. Because you’re you, and you’re gorgeous, and I couldn’t look away when I first saw it.”

“Christ,” Beau says. “Keep talking, baby.”

And Archer does. It’s not an easy thing to do; talking has never been easy for him. But it’s Beau, and Beau gets it. Beau has been in the same position, twisted into a knot by the same problem, haunted by the same thoughts. Archer tells him about back when he was still in school, how he learned to control his thinking, and wasn’t able to control it after all.

“I thought it would work, that to deny it was there, would eventually make it go away.” It sounds stupid to his own ears.

“I know,” Beau says, the hum of the car in the background of his voice. “But it also feels like you can’t ever take a full breath without making the wrong move.”

“Yes.” Archer has never heard it put into those words. “Still, I was a dick about it. And not just to you, to a lot of people.”

“Dude,” Beau sighs. “I know it feels bad, but you’ve done the exact same shit I’ve done, and it’s not easy on the other side, either. It’s like a fucked up survival instinct, except you’re protecting yourself from something that isn’t bad once you get to the other side. It’s just– it’s fucked, man.”

“Yeah,” Archer agrees. “It is.”

“And anyway,” Beau continues, “I didn’t even care, even if it hurt, because I knew it was coming from your own hurt. Maybe that’s fucked up of me, too. I just wanted you.”

It’s the most overwhelming and romantic fucking thing Archer has ever heard, so of course he responds with a dumb, “Yeah. So – what time do you get here again?”

Beau laughs. “Fifteen minutes, princess.”

Archer calls in sick the next day, because he’s too tired to work, and he’s not very eager to move away from Beau’s arms. His bed is warm and Beau is hot under his touch, grinning up at him when Archer pulls away briefly from the kiss.

“I should shower,” Archer says. He doesn’t intend for it to mean anything other than what it means, but the way his words make something darken into a spark in Beau’s eyes makes his own cock twitch.

“I’ll eat you out afterwards, baby.” Beau’s hand moves down to grab his ass. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What,” Archer replies, his cheeks inflamed all of the sudden.

“I want to eat your pussy,” Beau says in a slow, measured tone. “And then I’m going to fuck you again. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Archer says, brain turning foggy from being so turned on again. His cock is aching by the time he soaps up in the shower, heart beating in his throat.

Beau looks devastatingly handsome when he gets out of the shower and Archer is all nerves. At this point there isn’t anything they haven’t really done together, except this, and it still feels too intimate and powerful.

“Come here,” Beau murmurs and kisses him, pulling him on the bed. Beau’s hand wraps around the base of his cock, but his tugs are slow and teasing, playing with the precome trickling out of the tip. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” Beau tells him.

Archer allows Beau to arrange him, every limb and body angled just right. His thighs are spread apart embarrassingly wide, but he’s already shamefaced. It’s awkward that they’re doing this at all, and the fact he’s already so into it, without Beau even having touched him. When he feels the first, tentative lick against his hole, the moan that escapes him is deep and vulgar.

“I know, baby,” Beau tells him. “Relax, let me take care of you.”

It’s a dumb thing to ask, because there’s no way Archer can relax. Beau lands gentle kisses on the side of his inner thigh, the crease of his thigh, his fingers play behind Archer’s balls, delicately rubbing. Archer feels dizzy, toes curling. “Please,” he gasps, because it’s not enough. “Your mouth,” he elaborates quickly, because he hopes to god Beau doesn’t make him beg further.

Beau laughs softly. “Arch, you’re so sweet like this.” The next lick is more determined, trying to find exactly what Archer responds to, which is stupid, because he responds to all of it. Beau learns a rhythm that works for him, his fingers digging into Archer’s muscles to hold him open, lapping at his hole.

Archer’s head feels light and clouded. He’s so close, but so far at the same time, and he wants something more, but he doesn’t want Beau to ever stop. He clings onto the sheets and finally, when Beau lays his tongue flat and presses hard, he groans and tightens reflexively.

“Fu–uck,” he lets out, a little too desperate for his own liking.

“You like it?” Beau asks.

“I do, it’s just a lot,” Archer admits.

“I know it is, baby, but you’re doing so well.” Beau kisses his thigh while murmuring against the skin. “I love getting you ready for my cock like this.”

“Okay, keep going,” Archer allows, because he does like it, it’s not Beau’s fault that his mouth is so overwhelming sometimes, the hot insistent push of his tongue, the warmth of his breath. Archer feels exposed in a way that makes him too conscious of every little touch, and even when it’s good, his heart jumps like his body can’t really handle it. Especially when Beau returns to tight, quick licks, not pushing in but feeling like he might, Archer decides he actually can’t handle it, even though he wants more.

“Beau, it’s too much,” he manages. “I might die.”

“You’re not,” Beau says. “Your hole’s just not used to it yet, baby. I promise you we’ll keep doing it until you get comfortable. Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Archer says, adding, “sorry,” because he feels like an idiot.

“You did so well, princess,” Beau assures him and smooths his hands over the small of Archer’s back. “You sounded so fucking hot, you have no idea. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

Archer likes that idea. He lets out a breath and adjusts his hips. He’s loose and wound up at the same time, antsy to get to the next step. He looks over his shoulder to see Beau searching for the condom in his jeans pocket.

“Uhh, you don’t need to,” Archer says. “If you don’t want to. We were going to be exclusive from now on, right?”

Beau looks at him from under a slightly raised eyebrow. “Let's be smart about this, baby,” he says, tearing the packet open. He moves back on the bed, kneeling behind Archer.

“I guess,” Archer says, embarrassed now. “I just thought–”

“I get it.” Beau’s voice sounds soft and deep, making Archer’s dick twitch from just the sound of it. “I know you want my cock so bad you'd do anything to get me to fuck you with it, but we can wait a few weeks. Your hole is all nice and loose for me now, Arch.” He drops a kiss onto Archer’s shoulder blade, positioning his cockhead at Archer’s entrance. It’s cool with lube over the condom and Archer clenches, now missing Beau’s hot tongue against the same spot. “My sweet girl,” Beau murmurs and it sends a shiver down Archer’s spine.

“Fuck me already,” he asks and Beau slides in, gasping at the fit of Archer around his cock.

“Your ass is so pretty, baby,” Beau says as he starts fucking Archer in earnest, steady thrusts until he’s all the way in. “Love seeing it bounce on my cock like the good little slut you are.”

“Beau,” Archer whines, even though its good and it's a little too much, Beau so close, draped over him as he fucks Archer.

It really doesn’t take long, Beau getting the angle just right and Archer convulsing while he grips the sheets tight enough to feel his fingers burn. He’s never come like that before, and his mouth drenches the pillow, and he’d be embarrassed some more if it didn’t feel so fucking amazing. He doesn’t even register Beau’s own orgasm until Beau slumps over him. Then Beau recovers, lifting his hips so he slides out of Archer.

“Love you, princess,” Beau whispers.

“Love you, too,” Archer says, dizzy in the aftermath. He wants Beau to hold him, or for them to hold each other, so the warmth that rests everywhere now doesn’t escape his body just yet.

Thankfully Beau takes his cue and wraps his arms around Archer, allowing him to stay right where he most wants to be.

Dating Beau is not actually a big deal. They hang out together more in person, sure, and one of them is always driving up to see the other, and Beau has talked about getting a new job somewhere closer to Archer, and that’s all fine. But in terms of anything else, it’s pretty much the same as it was before. The earth didn’t shift under his feet, lightning didn’t strike him down, everything was just normal.

They agreed that they don’t have to tell anyone, if they don’t want to, but a few weeks into the relationship Archer kind of wants to try it, so he tells Dustin.

“I’m actually busy next weekend,” he says as Dustin steals a fry from his plate. “I’m going to the city to see my boyfriend.”

The fry doesn’t make it all the way to Dustin’s mouth. “Your what now, sorry?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you before,” Archer says with a shrug and stuffs his face with his sandwich so Dustin can’t force him to elaborate.

But instead of quizzing him further, Dustin just grins and eats the fry. “It’s about fucking time you got laid on the regular.”

“Whatever,” Archer mumbles, mouth full of food.

“You were always too pretty to stay single for long, bro.”

“What a weird thing to say.” Archer is blushing. “Loser.”

“I hope I get to meet him soon,” Dustin says and changes the topic, and that’s that. How crispy the bacon is served in the diner they’re eating in is apparently more interesting to him than the whole sum of Archer’s radically different sexuality.

But that still doesn’t make it easier for him to come out, so he doesn’t, not quite yet anyway.

Then Beau wants to go to some stupid secondhand art fair in a nearby town. Archer says yes, because he likes hanging out with Beau, even though Beau often wants to do cultured things and actually gets excited about museums and stuff like that.

He sees Curtis before Curtis sees him, but it’s too way too late to turn away and hustle Beau back the nearest corner, because Curtis’ girlfriend has already seen him.

“Oh, Archy, hiya! Yoohoo! Over here!” She smiles widely and he has to go over or get chased around the stupid art fair because Deanna has never given up on any social interaction in her life.

Beau sees his stunned expression and leans in closer. “Who’s that? An ex of yours?”

“No, it’s my brother and his girlfriend,” Archer says. Since he hasn’t moved, Deanna has dragged Curtis over to the two of them.

“Imagine seeing you here,” Curtis says flatly, his eyes not moving from Archer. “I thought you never left the house, little brother.”

“Shut up,” Archer tells him. “Hi Deanna. How’s the puppy?”

“So lovely! He’s housetrained now, such a smart boy!” She beams at him. “And this is…?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, this is Beau.” Archer’s entire face feels like it’s on fire. “He’s my– Beau. He’s just Beau.”

Deanna’s expression shifts momentarily, but then she’s back to smiling as she shakes Beau’s hand. “So nice to meet you!”

Curtis shakes Beau’s hand next. “Thanks for getting this loser out of the house, dude.”

“Happy to do it,” Beau says wryly. “So, you guys have a puppy?”

“Oh, he’s the cutest thing!” Deanna nudges Curtis. “Show him the photo.”

Curtis rolls his eyes, but digs out his phone from his pocket and flicks it open to show Beau and Archer the photo of their terrier mutt. “His name is Flandy.”

“Like Andy, but with very floppy ears,” Deanna explains excitedly. “He’s very smart. Very cute.”

Archer looks and it is a very cute puppy, but he’s more motivated to get out of here fast than look at any more cute puppy photos. “So we should probably like, go now.”

“Do you guys like axe-throwing?” Deanna asks. “Because we were talking about going to it, but it would definitely be more fun as a group.”

“I don’t know,” Archer starts, seconds before Beau cuts in.

“Sure,” he says and smiles, matching Deanna’s wattage. Like, what the fuck. “It might be fun.”

“It’ll be so fun!” Deanna agrees.

When they finally say bye, Archer looks at his brother, who’s got his arms folded. There’s no way Curtis knows, because he couldn’t perceive his way out of a paper bag, but maybe Deanna has figured it out. His palms get a bit sweaty when he thinks about it, but then, it doesn’t really matter if she knows or not. She isn’t the type to gossip.

When they get in the car and start the drive to Beau’s place in the city, he relaxes. So what if Deanna knows. They’ll go axe throwing and kill it, and that will be that.

“So, she seemed nice,” Beau says, hands relaxed around the steering wheel.

“She’s cool,” Archer says. “He’s lucky to have found her, they make a good team.”

“I think we make a pretty good team, as well.” Beau keeps his eyes on the road as he says it.

Archer’s chest feels funny. “I guess we do,” he says. He reaches over, fingers sliding over Beau’s knuckles and then retreating back to his own side of the car.

He doesn’t want to feel all soft over it, but he feels lucky in a way words can’t really express.

When Beau turns to look at him, just for a second or two, the emotion grips his heart and doesn’t let go.

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
	1	2	3	4	5	6
7	8	9	10	11	12	13
14	15	16	17	18	19	20
21	22	23	24	25	26	27
28	29	30	31

Iddy Iddy Bang Bang 2025: Log off babygirl (Original Work), M/M

Iddy Iddy Bang Bang 2025: Log off babygirl (Original Work), M/M

Profile

Navigation

December 2025

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags