Mutually Experimental [BxB]

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"What took you so f*****g long?" John asked, his head out the door as Sam strode towards him, flipping the screwdriver. "We need to get your armchair in. That's the last piece of furniture and after that, the little bits wouldn't take long. You'd do them all yourself."

"Sure." Sam handed him the screwdriver and swiped his face with his forearm. He was damn tired and his muscles were starting to protest after all the heavy boxes and household articles he'd been loading in all day. He was strong, but he hadn't done such tedious tasks in a while, unlike John who lifted weights and worked at a timber refinery, used to loading new furniture into trucks twenty-four, seven.

They hopped into the van and grappled the armchair between them, managing to wedge it through the exit. The front door wasn't any wider so it was a challenge getting it through there too. By the time they got the chair into the flat, Sam had broken out in a sweat. The morning sun turned scorching two days ago which was completely normal for the summer season. He pulled at his sticky shirt and swiped at his brows again.

"Tired?" John teased. "Come on out let's get the last items in, then we can head out to your neighbour's place for tea."

Clay met them out on the porch where he was setting the teapot down. He had some cups in his arms and a jar of cookies balanced on his head. He flushed and rushed past after Sam stopped in his tracks to beam at him. Sam couldn't resist the cuteness, turned on by the fact that he was the f*****g cause of it. He thought back on how reddened Clay was when he stood by his bedroom door in nothing but a towel. Sam was looking forward to seeing that again. He wondered if Clay would flush even harder with his d**k down his throat. Sam hoped so. He was so looking forward to finding out.

John gave him a suspicious look but Sam masked on his poker face, scooted a chair back and sat down comfortably to steaming coffee and chocolate cookies.

He'd been playing when he said Clay could use him as a gay biology specimen. It wasn't that he didn't feel any attraction for Clay - the opposite actually, but he didn't expect the latter to take it seriously. He thought Clay would wrinkle his nose in disgust or simply laugh it off but when Clay stared at him in total wonder, Sam realized that Clay was contemplating and being a gentleman, he couldn't withdraw the offer so he'd given an easy out while still leaving the option dangling. He hadn't imagined Clay to agree so easily. The universe were in his favour.

So now he'd get to teach Clay how to find his way around a c**k. Nothing would be difficult after all.

"What were you both discussing back in there?" John asked as they watched Clay turn on the percolator, brewing for himself a fresh new latte. "You seem to be getting cozy with him."

"You're such a gossip!" Sam punched him playfully. "Seriously, you haven't changed one bit since we left college."

"Well?" John wasn't giving up on asking anytime soon.

"He came out to me.”

"About what?"

"He's gay, you fucker."

"How interesting," John snorted in sarcasm. "Birds of a feather. But didn't he tell us he had a girlfriend before? How's that possible?"

"It's not the same with everyone, John. Some find out about themselves when they're way older, sometimes after thinking they're living a fulfilled life with their wives and kids. Remember Uncle George? He discovered himself in his sixties after his wife divorced him, taking along with her their five kids."

"I know but it doesn't still add up." John levelled his gaze on Sam before sipping his coffee gently.

"You're straight, therefore you're expected to like only girls which you do. The gaybourhood is something you can't wrap your pretty heterosexual mind around."

"How enlightening."

They were interrupted by a hiss, specifically from Clay who stood over the sink, blood dripping out his forefinger. Sam was up at once, positioning himself beside the lanky man. "Good God, how did this come about?" he took Clay's hand in his, examining the cut.

"I-I-I wasn't paying attention. There's a first aid box upstairs. I can get it." Clay stuttered, flushed rather by how close they were. Sam's expression was of one who was affected by the wound, not the other way around.

"No, no, no we'd need something to stop the blood first." From the kitchen countertop, Sam ripped a napkin in half, bounding up the wound in minutes. He felt John's eyes burn his back as he steered Clay through the corridor which led to the bedroom.

Clay unlocked the door carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed as Sam crouched to draw out the first aid box from beneath the bed. He popped it open and held up a bottle of spirit and cotton wool. "Come here."

Clay leaned forward, holding out his finger with the cloth around it. Sam unwrapped it, dabbing the cut a little with the wool, his heart clenching as Clay hissed in stinging pain.

"I'm sorry." he apologized, looking into Sam's eyes.

“The f**k you sorry for? It wasn’t your fault.”

"I'm so f*****g clumsy. I hope your friend won't mind you helping me?"

"Nah, John's fine. He's my brother."

"Oh.” Clay tilted his head to scrutinize him. “The resemblance is faint.”

“Mmh.”

“But I feel bad I interrupted your chit-chat."

"Trust me, he doesn't mind. What were you thinking about when you hurt yourself like this?"

"You know...stuff." Clay shrugged.

Not wanting to intrude, Sam stood up straight after patting a plaster around the cut. "If you say so. Come on let's go before John starts making up theories on why we took so long."

Clay chuckled nervously as Sam trailed after him into the corridor. Sam's motive in slacking behind was to check him out. He was pleased to see that Clay, despite being skinny had a nice round arse because Sam liked spanking his s*x partners while he rammed into them.

Clay's arse was high and filled up his shorts tightly. Sam could make out the curves to it without a hard stare. Most guys Sam had dated in the past didn't have Clay's well-proportioned body, or arse even. They were all horny twinks he occasionally picked up from the pub for fun because he liked his relationships non-committal - more like short-lived.

Judging from appearances, Clay could handle whatever Sam would offer. Sam's c**k began to throb when he tried to imagine Clay on his knees, looking up at him with teary eyes as Sam f****d his mouth. They neared the corridor doorway and Sam tried all he could to make his b***r a lot less excited.

The dining area was oddly silent with John's coffee cup half-emptied beside a badly scribbled note which read he had an emergency to get to. Sam lingered, watching Clay clear the table quietly.

"How typical of John to say goodbye with a note," he said when Clay came back in from the kitchen. "Alright, I'll leave you now to rest. I've ruined your day with my work. I'd be leaving now."

"Do you still need any help?" Clay offered on an impulse. "I've got nothing to do here and nonsense, I don't mind helping at all."

He wanted to prolong his stay with Sam to talk to him without John interrupting them. With the chatty man gone, Clay wanted to be sure if Sam meant what he said earlier that morning.

"Well, it's nothing I can't do on my own. But come on, I have a Scrabble game we could play if you don't mind."

"Sure," Clay agreed. "I'm so bored when I'm all by myself."

"Come on then."