My Straight Friend and My Crush | E4 (Patreon)

All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

This is a continuation of the series: New Year’s Eve With My Straight Friend and My Crush.

Previous part here

Noah Couldn’t Forget That Night

The locker room was almost empty. Only the quiet hum of the dryer, the sound of flip-flops on the tiles, and the smell of male sweat mixed with shower gel. I opened my locker when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"I didn't expect to see you here."

I turned around. Noah was standing there in just a towel, his hair damp, his shoulders tense from his workout. A drop of sweat trickled down his chest, and I wasn't ready for that sight. I remembered his body moving inside me. His groan. His cum. His gaze.

"Me neither," I replied, perhaps too quickly. "But... hey."

He smiled slightly. Without that mask from the gym. He was quiet. Soft. Real.

"I still can't stop thinking about New Year's Eve," he said bluntly. "It's like it's stuck in my body. In my head."

I looked at him longer. "I feel exactly the same way."

For a moment, no one said anything. Only our breathing and the distant dripping of water from the shower.

"Do you have plans for the rest of the day?" he asked.

"No... not yet," I replied, though I already knew I wanted it to be his plan.

We left together. In silence. We walked side by side as if it were the most natural thing in the world, even though every glance we exchanged contained more than any words could say. The tension was like a vibration under the skin, familiar, but more intense than on New Year's Eve. Because this time... we were alone.

He stopped by the elevator. He looked me in the eyes and said with apparent ease:

"How about a shower together?"

I felt my stomach tighten immediately. My heart beat once. Hard.

"Sure," I replied.

No laughter. No joke.

Just... yes.

The apartment door closed behind us without a word.

Noah entered first, with a confident stride, as if he knew the layout. As if it wasn't the first time, but a continuation of something that already existed. I took off my shoes, he took off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair. We were silent. But the silence was not empty.

We undressed separately, but at the same time. I took off my shirt first, feeling his gaze on my back. He unzipped his pants and let them fall. His boxers were already slightly stretched. His cock stood out clearly, sticking forward, reacting faster than he did.

We looked into each other's eyes for a moment. We didn't say anything.

We just both reached for our boxers.

We pulled them down almost simultaneously.

His cock fell for a moment, heavy, already semi-erect, then rose slowly, as if reacting to my being there and watching.

Mine did exactly the same.

I didn't try to hide it. Neither did he.

And that was even more exciting than sex, this complete openness. No pretending. No games.

We got into the shower together. The cubicle was spacious, but we stood with our backs to each other. I could feel the steam, the warm water running down my neck, and the presence of his body right behind me. Not an inch of distance was accidental.

We washed separately, each with our own gel, at our own pace. But the silence was thick. I had the impression that we both felt exactly the same: tension, anxiety, excitement. My hands moved across my chest, but my thoughts were only with him. I knew he was standing there naked. I knew he could hear me, feel me, imagine me.

Sometimes a splash of water. Sometimes a sigh.

There was something damn exciting about the fact that we weren't talking. That we didn't have to.

I waited.

I felt him getting closer.

I knew he would make the first move.

And I was ready.

I heard Noah turn around behind me. The water changed its rhythm, and then I felt his presence closer than before. A hand touched my shoulder. Warm. Decisive.

"Can I wash you?" he asked quietly.

I nodded.

He poured gel onto his hands. The scent spread with the steam. His fingers started at my shoulders, sliding slowly, carefully, as if memorizing every muscle. Then my back. Broad, confident movements, embracing me from behind. His chest brushed against my shoulder blades, and I gasped, feeling my cock react immediately.

His hands slid to my sides, wrapped around my waist, then higher, washing my chest. His thumbs hooked my nipples, and I closed my eyes, leaning against his shoulder. I could feel his breath on my neck. Close. Too close to pretend it was just a shower.

Noah crouched down. The water hit his back as his hands cupped my buttocks. He washed them slowly, thoroughly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Then my thighs. The inner side. Higher and higher. I shivered.

"Turn around," he asked.

I did. I was already hard, embarrassed and excited at the same time. I stood naked in front of him, and he looked at me intently. No smile. No words.

His hands returned to my legs, moving upward until they cupped my balls. He held them gently, firmly. And then his fingers wrapped around my cock. He began to move his hand slowly, evenly, without haste. Water was running down both of us, and I could feel the tension building inside me with every movement.

"Noah..." I whispered. "Wait..."

I was already too close.

He looked me in the eyes. And didn't stop.

His hand sped up slightly. His thumb brushed the tip. My breath was ragged. I felt like I couldn't hold out much longer. And that he knew it.

I was exactly where he wanted me.

"Noah..." I said again, no longer in control. "I'm about to come."

He didn't answer.

His hand didn't slow down for a moment.

I stood leaning against the wall of the stall, water running down my neck and back, and he held me with his gaze. I felt every movement of his fingers building tension in me faster than I could hold back. His thumb brushed the tip again, and I sucked in air so sharply that it hurt in my chest.

"Fuck..." I blurted out.

And then it let go.

I came hard, violently, with a short moan that I couldn't suppress. Cum shot out between us, splashing onto his face, neck, and chest. Hot. Unmistakable. Noah didn’t flinch. Didn’t move an inch. He stood still, taking it all without hesitation.

And then... he just straightened up.

He took his hand away. He moved away from the stream of water. Without a word. Without a glance. He reached for a towel and left the stall, leaving me alone in the steam, breathing fast and with trembling hands.

I stood there for a moment, listening to him get dressed. To him zipping up his jacket. To him opening the door.

"Thanks for the shower," he said.

The door closed.

I was left alone. In the shower. With water washing everything off my body except my thoughts. I stood there for a long time, staring at the tiles, trying to understand what had just happened. It wasn't just sex.

And I knew one thing:

Noah had left me with something much bigger than an orgasm.

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