Box Shaped Heart Ch. 3

By Laura S. Fox

Copyright 2018 Laura S. Fox

All Rights Reserved

Gay Erotica

Intended for Mature Audiences Only

This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.

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Chapter Three Gay Thoughts, Gay Thoughts Everywhere

"Are these all mine?" he stared critically at the walk-in closet, without daring to put one foot in front of the other.

There must have been one thousand clothing items, without counting the shoes. Carter was the kind to have three-four changes of clothes, each one for a particular purpose. But this Alex dude was just over the top.

He remained there, staring, and wondering how on earth he was going to go through this and escape unscathed. He flinched when Aron moved next to him. Apparently, the guy's closet was just a regular one, and Aron knew exactly what to pick. A pair of gym shorts and a regular fit t-shirt, both a dark shade of blue, which he threw on the bed.

And then, Aron just started to undress. Carter stole one look at the guy and then decided it was probably better to focus on the puzzle that was his personal closet. Walking into that space equaled going straight to Narnia, and that without even passing through the closet.

"Should I help you pick something?" he heard Aron speaking from behind him. "You have some sportswear, although you never wear it," the man added.

"Sure, be my guest."

Aron passed by him and crouched to fiddle with a drawer at the bottom. Carter's eyes followed the curve of the muscled back and stopped at the dimples just above the guy's ass. Then realization struck him. Why the fuck was Aron naked? Helpless, he turned on his heels and decided to wait outside the closet. For lack of anything to do, he sat gingerly on the bed.

"Here you go," Aron gently tossed a plastic bag at him. "All new, since I know you don't like to wear old things."

Carter was all for old things; don't throw it out if it's not broken or damaged. That was his credo. He looked at Aron, and had instant regret. The guy was just leaning against the wall, wearing nothing but a smirk. A sexy smirk. Probably. What did Carter know about a sexy smirk on a guy? It was not like he was gay. He was the opposite of gay. He was so not-gay, that scientists had to invent a totally new word, other than straight, just for him.

Yet, his eyes traveled over the man's hard body, the chest covered in dark curly hair, and followed the treasure trail, down to ... okay, he was not going to go there. He looked away and pretended he was busy taking out the t-shirt and shorts out of the plastic bag. It was just this stupid situation. He had seen Aron naked plenty of times before, only that he hadn't looked-looked at the guy on those occasions.

"Alex," Aron cooed, and Carter's fingers slipped on the package, making it slide to the floor. "C'mon, baby, you're looking at me like I'm a vanilla sundae."

"As you can see," Carter grabbed the plastic bag from the floor, "I'm not looking at you. And I hate vanilla ice cream."

Oops. No, he, Carter, hated vanilla in anything, not only ice cream. Alex was probably all for licking all the vanilla ice cream, probably directly from his husband's perfect cock. Oh, fuck, why did he have to have so many gay thoughts? It was all Alex's fault. He was probably a horny bastard, too, always keeping Aron busy. This was harder than he expected.

Speaking of hard, Aron walked towards him and stopped inches away. Now it was impossible to ignore how the guy's cock was slightly bouncing with each of Aron's moves. Closer and it was going to slap him in the face.

He coughed and shifted, trying to move away.

"Fuck, Alex, you do know how to torture a guy," Aron whispered. "You're keeping me on a tight leash anyway."

Tight leash? Carter's ears twitched. Oh, that was going right into the data bank. So Alex did not like putting out too often? Was that what he should have gathered from what Aron was saying?

"Tight leash?" he spoke, fishing for info.

"Well, you know," Aron said somewhat aggressively. "It's not fair. You know how much I like your body. And one of the first things you said to me was that you liked my cock."

"On the first date?" Carter shouted, alarmed.

Aron had married a total whore. And all his life, he had thought Aron would settle down with a nice girl who knew how to be decent and wholesome, and Aron would have 2.1 kids with her. Instead, Aron had gone a completely different way and gotten hitched with a ... guy thirsty for cock.

His head moved so fast at that thought that his nose brushed by Aron's cock. At least, he managed to close his eyes in time. But it was not exactly like he could ignore the faint smell of washed male, the pleasant scent of soap, mixed with something else. Probably Aron had taken a shower just before coming to take him home from the hospital. He wanted to inhale and store away Aron's smell forever. No idea why. The truth was that he had never had the chance to smell his best friend from so up close. Really, how could a straight guy smell his best friend's crotch? His mind was starting to slip again.

"Well, we hooked up within 5 minutes of seeing each other," Aron interrupted his mangled train of thought. "Ah, right, you don't remember things. But, really, not even that?" the man sounded hurt.

Carter drew a deep breath and considered his options. All he wanted was to get out of the room and enjoy a bit of fresh air, preferably without a dick in his face. No matter how nice it smelled. So he did the only thing that seemed sensible enough to get him out of the situation without hurting Aron more.

He grabbed the guy's cock blindly, and began to pump it, while keeping his head turned. Maybe it worked if he kept his fingers crossed on the other hand and kept repeating `no homo' in his mind. Yeah, that had to do it. And Aron was going to forget everything about this pseudo-fight with his husband, once he had his hard cock out of the way.

Aron cursed softly. Maybe he was doing it wrong? Well, guys were not supposed to be that complicated, right? Up and down, up and down, putting enough pressure ... maybe sliding the thumb over the head from time to time? Or maybe Aron was too sensitive for such maneuvers?

Well, at least, Aron was no longer upset. He wasn't quiet, either, as he grunted, his head thrown back, his legs planted firmly on the floor, slightly apart to allow Carter to jerk him off. Cautiously, he opened one eye, then the other. Well, he needed to see what he was doing.

Aron was a pretty endowed man. As to be expected from a guy of his stature. Carter felt a certain surge of satisfaction as the guy's cock swelled further in his hand. Hmm, that had to mean that he was doing a good job. Psh, piece of cake. It wasn't like he hadn't plenty of experience with that. Plus, it really felt nice how his hand was gliding up and down on that hardened cock. It filled him with a certain sense of satisfaction.

Well, it was a different cock than his, and this one was bigger and thicker, but all the way the same thing. And Aron seemed to enjoy it, if he were to take after all those soft small grunts and moans escaping the guy's lips.

Hmm, maybe he could do things a bit better? He made himself room between the guy's legs, and used his free hand to grab Aron's balls and roll them slowly. Yeah, that was doing the trick. Aron was rocking his hips now, and Carter was enthusiastically rubbing the guy's dick with increased speed. Oh, those balls were getting tighter ... that was clearly a cue that ...

White liquid splashed him right in the face as Aron's grunts became louder and the movement of his hips jerkier. His surprise was such that he forgot to move his hands. Aron just batted them away and took matters into his own. In a manner of speaking, because he used one to continue to rub his dick to total completion, while he held Carter's head with the other so he could continue painting his face with jizz.

His initial surprise wore off the next second and he pushed the guy away. Wiping his face with both his hands, he began to curse.

"Fucking douchebag!"

Great, now there was jizz in his mouth, too. He sputtered and spat, trying to wipe it all away, but it was like the fucking white goo was magic, and just spreading everywhere.

Aron had an idiotic grin on his face, too spent to care, apparently.

"What did you think would happen?" Aron laughed, just to add insult to injury.

"You could have said something!" Carter continued to try hard to clean his face, only managing to rub the thing more into his skin.

"You always say that facials are the best treatment for perfect skin," Aron added, as his eyes glinted with satisfaction.

Carter tried to throw the guy a murderous look. By how Aron's grin spread wider, his laser gaze was doing zero minus infinite damage. He smacked his forehead in frustration, only to make more of the guy's semen end up there, too.

"And did you have to come half a gallon?" he protested, as he just grabbed Aron's t-shirt from the bed and began to wipe his face with it.

"Hey, I saved it all for you," Aron explained. "And really, that's my t-shirt."

Carter threw the garment into the guy's face.

"Serves you right," he said snappily. "And really, rub one out once in a while."

"Are you serious?" Aron watched him, cocking his head to one side, like he could not believe he heard right.

"Yeah, watch some porn or something," Carter shrugged. "No wonder you're so pissed all the time."

"You don't really like gay porn, Alex," Aron said, a bit more gravely this time.

"Of course I don't," Carter rolled his eyes.

Wait, was that really the right thing to say? What kind of gay guy was Alex?

"You said that you don't like me watching guys other than you," Aron continued.

Hmm, that required a very carefully considered come back. On one hand, he could not act too much out of character. On the other, Aron jerking off to gay porn meant having the guy off his back, literally. His ass was surely in no shape to take it.

"Well," he spoke, after a little pondering, "while I'm getting back to ... you know, my usual self, you can, ahem, do your thing. Jerk off," he added with a bit more conviction.

"Okay," Aron said slowly, like he was walking on eggshells with each word he said. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Carter ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

Great, now there was jizz in his hair, too. He had forgotten about that.

"Are you going to help me?" Aron grinned.

"Help you with what?" Carter was still busy trying to pull all that cum out of his hair.

"With jerking off to porn," the man chuckled, and Carter could swear he wanted nothing more badly than to punch his former best friend in the face.

"You don't look disabled," he glared. "Plus, I know you're like a double-edge sword, so you can use both hands to ..."

The words died on his lips as Aron's eyes grew wide while looking at him.

"When did I tell you that?" Aron questioned.

Damn, what the fuck did Aron and Alex talk about? Carter and Aron had compared, from a theoretical standpoint, masturbation techniques as soon as they had discovered sex was a thing, and using their own hands could do the trick.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Probably along with the vows," he added. "It just came up or something."

Aron started laughing, his hands on his hips.

"Oh, baby, you either turned into the funniest thing alive, or your lapse of memory just made room for things I don't remember," he spoke, while wiping a couple of tears from his eyes.

Carter just made a small annoyed sound. This was going to be so damn tough.

***

The exercise was doing him good. Stretching his muscles, although they burned, was making him feel alive. How the hell was he going to return to his own body? It was probably just a cosmic mistake, and whoever watched over the earth, from up above, was going to notice sooner or later. And that meant that any minute now, Carter was going to go back into that body lying unconscious in the hospital, most probably waiting to die.

The thought was not particularly cheerful, so it was for the best just to enjoy being alive, while it lasted. But this Alex dude surely didn't like running, because Carter had to overexert himself just to keep himself in the game.

And Aron looked like he had no qualms with wrecking him. Damn, the guy was ruthless. Well, it was nothing new, Aron had used to be a beast when they were playing together, no matter what sport. Only that Carter still had had a chance back then, unlike now, when he was just inside a skinny guy's body that clearly was against any kind of physical activity. Yeah, back when he and Aron were still friends, he could go head to head with the guy and even hope to win once in a while.

He stopped to draw his breath, hands on his knees.

"So, had you enough?" Aron teased while moving the ball from one hand to another, as he came closer.

Carter waved.

"Yeah, totally," he lied and suddenly stole Aron's ball and threw it over his shoulder.

Aron looked at the ball flying through the air, his eyes growing wider. Carter smirked as he pointed with both index fingers towards the clear sky. He must still have it. He didn't have to look to know the ball went through the hoop.

"Wow," Aron turned his attention on Carter. "I had no idea you could do that."

Carter shrugged, but he felt smug about it. He patted his friend's chest lightly.

"You still have a few things to learn, boy," he teased.

There was a small flicker of recognition in Aron's eyes, and Carter almost bit his tongue. He had to be more careful. Alex Ruskin was not supposed to speak and behave like Carter Malis. The two guys had absolutely nothing in common.

"Oh, yeah?" Aron smiled. "That was just pure luck."

"You wish," Carter snorted.

"Do it. Put your money where your mouth is," Aron challenged.

"Ah, we're using money now? I'm in," Carter ignored the little voice in his mind telling him he was blowing his cover like an idiot. Well, it was not like Aron was just going to start thinking his husband was no longer his husband. That kind of thing was impossible to believe.

"Well, I choose something else if you lose, and I win," Aron grinned.

"Yeah? Like what?"

Aron came so close that their chests were touching, and Carter had to pull his head back to sustain the man's hot stare.

"One kiss. French kiss. Tongue and everything. For like 5 minutes. Since you're keeping me at arm's length."

Carter could feel one eye starting to twitch.

"Okay," he nodded.

It was not like he was going to lose.

***

Nothing ever went as planned. Okay, there was no need to panic, as Aron walked over to him and pulled him into his arms. The man's hand was warm on his chest, and the other strong arm was holding his waist tightly.

"You kind of cheated," he glared.

"I didn't," Aron said slowly, as his eyes focused on Carter's mouth. "I missed you, baby."

Baby? All right, he was going to puke. Aron's lips were firm on his, and he tried to protest, to smooth talk his way out of it, but the guy was now using his tongue, pushing it inside, like he was trying to force Carter to deepthroat him. Well, it wasn't the right definition of deepthroat, but it was kind of the same, because Carter had to open wide, to allow the guy to stuff his mouth with that wicked tongue.

He could do it, he could do it, he could it ... wow, he had no idea, hmm, were those lips doing that? What if he slid his tongue like this, yes, hmm, yes, this felt really nice, like really, really nice, and wait, what was that hand doing on his ass, oh, no, he wanted to groan internally, but that was impossible because damn, if it didn't feel good ...

Aron's lips were nothing like a woman's. They weren't soft and pliant, and they didn't cave in. Every little fraction of an inch Carter had to battle for, and letting the guy win was not an option. Well, he had no idea kissing a dude would feel like this. It was not like he had ever asked the girls he had been with about how a guy's mouth felt like. He was usually busy doing something else.

Supposedly, Aron had only two hands, but they felt like so many more. One was now in his hair, fingers scraping his scalp in a gentle motion, making him shudder, while the other was on his ass, kneading one buttock, slowly trying to pull at the shorts and sneak inside. Which it did, and Carter felt deft fingers getting close to his hole.

"Wow, wow, wow," he protested while pushing Aron away. "Let's take it down a notch, okay? Frankly, I don't think my ass is ready for a dicking."

"Are you sure?" Aron pulled him close again. "Baby, come on," soft pleas poured into his ear. "I can barely wait to be balls deep inside you."

Carter was pretty certain that normally he could have gone against Aron in hand to hand combat. Well, that if he was himself, which he wasn't, because skinny Alex was no match for this monster. It was really annoying to feel so weak and easy to overpower. Maybe Alex liked it this way, to be manhandled by his husband and made to submit without too much fuss. But Carter was having none of it. Just to test his limited strength, he pushed against Aron's chest with all his might.

The way he humphed in exasperation made Aron stop.

"Alex," Aron growled. "Stop this game of hot and cold. You know I don't like it. Just be straightforward with me. What's wrong?"

Carter crossed his arms over his chest just to make sure that he could keep Aron at bay.

"I think my ass just pulled itself tight," he came up with the stupidest explanation that crossed his mind. "I clenched my butt so hard when I got hit by that fire truck, and boom, I cannot relax anymore. The only way you'll get your dick in there will be by ripping me a new one."

Alex seemed confused.

"Did the doctor say anything about this? It's a muscle condition? Should I take you back to the hospital? How on earth did they let you go with something like this?"

"It's just psychological!" Carter yelled, hoping to stop Aron from suing the entire health care system, on grounds that his husband now had a tiny asshole that could not let anything in. "I mean, it's not like it doesn't ... work. I just need time," he covered his lies with a small self-deprecating smile.

"Okay," Aron stopped all of a sudden. "What would help? Soft music? Should I take it really slow, open you up?"

Carter could not believe he was having this conversation with his best friend on top of everything.

"No, no, just a bit of time, until I get back to my own self."

Technically it wasn't a lie. And now he had the image of Aron giving him a prostate massage with exotic oils, burning fragrance sticks around and oriental music playing in the background. He groaned on the inside and moved from one foot to the other in an effort to ease the heaviness he was starting to feel between his legs. It was like everything having to do with Aron was making him instantly hard. He was going to take the reins and dominate this body. And his brain should just stop with all the gay thoughts already.

"I think it would help us both if we got back to our usual rhythm," he spoke again.

"Well, our usual rhythm involves me," Alex pulled him closer and kissed him hard on the lips, "ramming your ass at least once a week. And I should remind you that we're sort of overdue."

Once a week? Hmm, something he could work with ... Well, what the fuck was he thinking? No, there was going to be no ramming. No. Definitely not.

"Well, I gave you a handjob," he began talking out loud. "How long does that usually last?"

Aron was now biting his lips so as not to laugh.

"Is this a new way for you to play hard to get? I understand that I'm big and you're afraid you're going to have a loose ass, but stop dodging everything by doing weird math. And I have no idea how long a handjob would last. You're not particularly generous with those."

Now Aron's eyes were dropping lower, and Carter was pretty certain that was now where his eyes were, so he wondered if Aron suddenly had developed an obsession for his throat ... Or his mouth?

"You're amazing with blowjobs, though," Aron made everything clear and confirmed his suspicions.

"Ha, ha, no way," Carter snorted.

Aron looked at him and frowned a bit.

"Did your mouth shrink, too?" he half-joked.

"No, no, but due to all that medicine, now I'm like ... bleah about everything."

Especially cock. There was no way he was going to go down on his best friend. He really needed to get back into his battered body and let Alex deal with this sex hungry beast. And he needed to stop thinking right now about how his best friend's cock must taste like. By its smell, it was probably ... No, no, no, get back to being straight, you dirty little mind!

Actually, if he was thinking about it, once a week was kind of lame. He had never been particularly aware of Aron's sexual appetite, and also he had thought the guy was into girls, which put him pretty much out of the loop regarding sex habits and whatnot when it came to the guy. Still, he had the feeling that Aron was having it a little rough.

"I can give you handjobs," he decided, and nodded mostly to himself.

Except for having his face all splattered with jizz, it hadn't been that much of a horrendous experience. It was something he could deal with, and that was just helping a friend, right? Lending his best friend a helping hand. Uh, he should not have gone there.

Aron leaned in and looked at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with Alex?"

There was no hint of humor in the guy's voice, and Aron seemed dead serious. Carter could feel his skin prickling with apprehension. What was he going to do now? He could not just blurt out Hey, I'm Carter, your homophobic ex best friend and by some freakish cosmic joke, I'm here, while your real husband is dying in the hospital.

Aron burst into laughter.

"You make such a cute face when you're worried. Come on, baby, I'm just joking!"

Baby. Ugh. But he could live with that, too.

"Yeah, nice joke, what can I say? And stop calling me baby while you make fun of me. Should I call you Papa Bear just to get on your nerves?"

Aron's face clouded suddenly.

"Carter used to call me that," he spoke.

"The homophobe?"

Shit, what was with him and his slips of the tongue? Yeah, he had given Aron that nickname when they were in high school and they had started growing body hair like men in the making. Aron had been, by far, the one with the most hair in the entire neighborhood. Carter had liked to tease the guy over it. And Aron had hated that nickname.

"Yeah, him," Aron replied abruptly. "I should go see him tomorrow first thing in the morning. If you don't mind, of course."

"Why would I ..." Carter bit his tongue. "Actually, Aron, since I'm still on medical leave and I have tomorrow free, how about I go and check on him?"

"Would you do that? I thought you hated him."

"Well, let's not exaggerate. I barely saw the guy once in my life."

"Yes, but you forbid me to talk about him after I tried to tell you about him. You were really pissed when you told me that. And it is still frigging difficult to talk about anything from my past because it's not like I can pluck him away from all the memories I have. He used to be my best friend, Alex."

Wow. Aron was making a case for him, Carter Malis, the homophobic ex friend.

"Frankly, until I told him we were getting married, he never acted like that. If anything, he seemed open minded to me. Hell, he even had posters with Freddy Mercury all over the walls in his bedroom. I wished I could talk to him and ask him what made him behave like that."

Carter could feel a lump in his throat, growing to the size and consistence of a tennis ball.

"What stopped you?"

Aron threw him a strange and somewhat resentful look.

"You. You were clear about it. You told me that I should choose and choose wisely. Of course I chose you. But still, I wish I had the chance ... He had the chance to explain himself. And now that he's just lying there, in a coma, with minimal chances to wake up, I feel like I missed my chance to hear from him why he did what he did at our wedding."

Damn, Carter could feel something swelling in his chest, threatening to get out and not the way it was supposed to. He pulled Aron into a hug, to hide how moist his eyes got just out of the blue.

"Hey, you'll talk to him. He'll wake up and you'll talk to him."

Aron said nothing back and just hugged him in turn.

"I'm sure he'll want to talk to you, too," Carter added.

"Are you sure? We haven't spoken in two years."

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just a hunch," Carter spoke quickly, "but I'm sure."

It wasn't like he had an explanation all ready on hand, but he was willing to find one. To think that all this time, Aron hadn't hated him.

"Well, how about that pizza? And some beer?" he patted Aron on the back.

He wasn't ready just yet for so much emotional upheaval. And it was going to be over soon. Tomorrow, he was going to go see himself at the hospital, and everything was going to get back to normal. And, if he was to wake up, he was going to talk to Aron, and set everything right.

TBC

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