Archive of Our Own

Kris sat in his car, staring ahead at nothing, the engine off. 

He was single as of an hour ago. He shouldn't have been surprised and if he waded through the swirling mess of emotions sitting uncomfortably in his gut he knew he wouldn't find surprise in there.

Always put second. She was always second. The band came first, the boys came first. She was second fiddle and that wasn't going to change according to her. He hadn’t said much to defend himself in that aspect.

He blinked back the first tear since he walked out of her apartment that threatened to fall. Six months of a relationship gone. Could he really call it that though—a relationship? He felt like he'd barely seen her, mostly called, texted and facetimed for some phone sex. When they were together in person the sex had been the best part, her soft curves and warm heat the main thing he would miss about her.

He sighed and finally got out, walking up and up and up into the apartment he shared with Bojan. The TV was on, playing some trashy soap opera he knew Bojan was only half paying attention to, judging from the loud singing and clattering coming from the kitchen.

Kris plopped himself down on the couch, staring at the TV as a woman screamed at another woman about marrying her husband’s brother for money or something.

"Oh! You're back early." Bojan’s brow furrowed in confusion, pausing in the entryway of the room. He had a cocktail in his hand (judging from the paper umbrella he'd stuck in the top of it), and from the slight sway of his body it wasn't his first.

"We broke up" was all Kris offered as explanation.

Bojan's face fell, a mumbled "shit, sorry" falling from his lips as he sat next to Kris on the couch, his drink placed on the coffee table in front of them. Kris instinctively leaned into him, the familiar sensation of Bojan’s arms around him grounding him. Bojan was in just a pair of basketball shorts, his bare, smooth chest serving as a pillow for Kris’s cheek, his heart beating evenly below it.

He focused on the tiny patch of hair that dusted the centre of Bojan's chest, a pathetic amount of growth that Kris was still a tiny bit envious of, his own torso devoid of anything at all. He should probably feel weird about snuggling into his half naked friend's soft, squishy pec but said pec belonged to Bojan. Bojan didn't count for most things that he should feel weird about.

 "You wanna talk about it?" Bojan's voice was soft, one hand coming up to stroke Kris’s hair as they sat together, Kris hunched slightly awkwardly to tuck himself into Bojan's body.

"She said she felt like she was second place behind the band. That she couldn't compete with you or Jan and she was sick of it," he said numbly. That wasn't an uncommon statement. It seemed every past girlfriend had said some version of that—some blaming specific people more than just the band in general. Always one specific person really.

But what could he do? Joker Out was his life, and the band were his best friends. Maybe he wasn't great at a work life balance but could you blame him when the ‘work’ never felt much like work in the first place?

"Fuck dude, that sucks. I’m sorry."


Kris hummed in agreement. He straightened up, leaving the warmth of Bojan's body to take the drink from the coffee table and sip it. It was sweet and fizzy, though the alcohol was still very apparent. He took a larger sip, then another and another, keeping the glass close to his chest as he blankly stared at the TV, the fingers of his other hand resting on Bojan’s knee, drawing small circles on his bare skin. He was half aware of Bojan’s arm around the back of the couch behind him, his fingers mimicking Kris’s as they touched his shoulder. When no more liquid fell into his mouth he frowned, putting the empty glass back on the table, the first buzz of the alcohol hitting his veins as he turned to look at Bojan, who was already watching him softly, his hand reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind Kris’s ear.

“You want another, Princess?” Bojan asked gently. Kris smiled and nodded. He never knew how to feel about that nickname. Bojan had started using it in private a while ago, starting off as a joke but somehow slowly turning into something affectionate and soft. Part of it made Kris’s chest flutter even if he refused to look at why that might be. It was just what Bojan called him. Nothing more, right?

Bojan picked up the glass, taking out the little paper umbrella and tucking it behind Kris’s ear. “She doesn't know what she's missing out on by dumping you,” Bojan said as he left to make them both another drink.

Kris took down the paper umbrella and twirled it between his fingers. Bojan had been with him for every breakup he'd gone through, some harder than others. Every time he'd said something along those lines. How she was stupid, how could she not see how amazing he was? Bojan was his biggest cheerleader, a constant force in his life that, at this point, Kris didn’t know how to live without.

He suddenly didn't want to be alone anymore, rising from the couch and following Bojan into the kitchen, already halfway through making another round of drinks. Kris came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Bojan’s waist, hugging him tightly as he rested his head against his shoulder.

Bojan brought his hand up then ran it over Kris’s arm soothingly. He didn't need to say anything as he poured the last shot of liquor into the glasses, giving them a quick stir before handing the glass to Kris who, reluctantly, released Bojan to take a sip of the new drink, just as sweet as the last one.

“I don’t feel all that bad, you know,” Kris finally said. “I know I should but I just kind of feel numb. I don’t think I ever expected us to last all that long anyway.”

“Probably a good thing you broke up then,” Bojan shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink and humming proudly at his creation. Kris had to admit, Bojan knew how to mix a good drink.

“At least now you’re free to have some mindless, feel good sex.” Bojan smiled, waggling his eyebrows as he took a sip himself.

“Yeah? With whom, might I ask?” Kris smiled despite himself, the banter easy between them.

“I can tell you from personal experience Jan is a good lay, although I dunno if Nace will let you at him now,” Bojan joked, laughing hard as Kris sputtered, spilling some of his drink down his front.

“You’re so gross.” He gave a shove to Bojan’s shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically. He knew Bojan was happily (and openly with them) bisexual. He knew about the few one night stands and even a secret high school boyfriend that only lasted a few months until the other boy moved away. He knew about Jan too, despite his request to be told nothing. He didn’t like to think about Bojan laying under a man, especially not a man he knew.

After some more chatting they finally left the kitchen and went back to the living room, flopping down on the couch, their drinks already half gone and a pleasant hum vibrating through Kris’s body.

He leaned back against the arm of the couch, his body stretched out across the cushions and he pulled Bojan down with him, wanting his weight on top of him, comforting and soothing. Bojan happily laid his head on Kris’s chest, Kris’s long, delicate fingers carding through his soft, brown locks before moving down to rest against his spine and the curve of his lower back.

It felt right, him being there. He'd always been tactile with Bojan, with all the band really, happily lounging on each other and giving hugs and cheek kisses freely. Maybe that was the thing his exes didn't like. It had to just be that. Of course some people might think it was more than what it was. It just happened to be that he saw Bojan the most and so naturally was seen touching him the most. It wasn't his fault he'd known him for almost a decade and was closer to him than anyone else. That’s all that it was.

His mind was beginning to go pleasantly numb, just enough alcohol in his blood to take the edge off and relax him enough to fully enjoy the heavy weight on his chest and the smell of Bojan's shampoo that filled his nose. 

He felt Bojan shuffling above him and looked away from the show, mostly forgotten on the TV anyway, back to Bojan, his face suddenly right in front of his own. His skin looked so soft this close, and Kris’s hand on his cheek confirmed it, the pad of his thumb rubbing small circles into the skin. He didn't remember putting it there, the ability to touch Bojan almost instinctual at this point. His thumb brushed over a few scattered hairs that dusted his chin, endearing in their own way, much the same as the small patch of hair on his chest.

Bojan's eyes were soft, looking into Kris’s own in such a way Kris’s breath hitched. He was so distracted by how wide they were, how much love was in them that he didn't notice Bojan leaning in until their lips were pressed together.

Bojan's lips were plush, softer than his girl— ex-girlfriend's were. The slight brush of stubble against his chin as Bojan titled his head was a surprise, rough and scratchy but not in a way that was unpleasant. He kissed back, closing his eyes as Bojan hummed softly.

Kris brought his hand up to card through Bojan's hair, the locks soft between his fingers. It felt good. Bojan felt good. Bojan pressed his body down against him minutely, the unmistakable feeling of his hard cock grinding into Kris’s stomach.

Kris's mind suddenly caught up with what he was doing, slamming on the breaks as he pulled back from Bojan with a start.

He'd been kissing Bojan. Or Bojan had been kissing him. Did it matter?

He stared at Bojan, still laying on top of him and every point of contact suddenly felt excruciating. He didn't kiss boys. He wasn't meant to kiss boys like he kissed girls and he certainly wasn't meant to kiss Bojan like he kissed girls.

He pushed Bojan up and off of him, only taking a moment to take in his shocked face before darting off to his bedroom and closing the door behind him with a loud bang.

An hour later, Kris was staring up at the ceiling, hoping the small crack he saw snaking across the plaster would somehow have all the answers to his still racing thoughts.

He wasn't meant to like boys. He liked girls and that was fine. That's what worked because girls were safe and soft and sweet and expected. He didn't want to think about how right it had felt to have Bojan's lips against his, how his stubble enhanced the kiss rather than took away from it. He didn’t want to think about how hot it was to feel Bojan grind his hard cock into him.

For the first time in a long long time, he let himself think about the feelings he'd spent so many years squashing down into a tiny little box and shoved away into the deep corners of his mind, pretending they never existed in the first place.

He thought about the first time he watched porn and found himself staring at the man much more than the woman, his hands rough and muscles rippling. He thought about all the little moments he knew his eyes lingered a little too long on an attractive stranger walking down the street, his hips swaying or broad shoulders catching Kris’s eye.

Mostly though he thought about Bojan. He thought about how his heart had raced the first time he’d seen a young, cocky Bojan whip his shirt off during a friendly game of basketball at lunch. He hadn't meant to stare, but his mouth had gone dry as Bojan had teased and taunted his opponents, putting on a show like he always did and flexing his muscles to get a rise out of the small crowd. It had certainly risen something in a teenage Kris; it had been the first time he’d looked at a boy the same way he looked at girls.

His mind ran through more and more memories, flashes of Bojan at parties and under star-filled skies, seconds where he almost forgot he wasn’t meant to feel the way he did about his best friend. His mind finally stopped, latching on to a specific memory, years old but still far too clear in Kris’s mind.

Now, Kris’s hand trailed down, ghosting over his stomach and his barely there happy trail until he reached the waistband of his pyjama pants. Dare he go there? Go back to that memory he kept locked up tight, hoping one day he might forget it entirely?

His fingers wrapping around his cock brought a breathy sigh to his lips. He was already so hard, the idea of revisiting...that, already getting him going.

He held himself and began to stroke, imagining it was someone else's hand. He'd been 18, and they were alone and drunk in Kris’s bedroom, snuggled up together on his bed. He didn't know who made the first move, who kissed who, but he did know he was the first to undo Bojan's pants and reach below the fabric of his boxers. Bojan's quiet moan when he'd touched him was burned into Kris’s mind, needy and desperate. The feeling of velvety smooth skin against his palm as he began to stroke Bojan was incredible. He had held back a cry when Bojan’s hand had wrapped around his cock, feeling so different to his own hands but so, so hot even in its inexperience.

They hadn't lasted long, a combination of too much alcohol and teenage horniness. Kris remembered panting into Bojan's hot skin with his hand still sticky from Bojan's cum just before he passed out.

They hadn't talked about it the next morning, Kris waking up to an empty bed, Bojan having moved himself to the mattress on the floor some time while Kris had slept. They had never talked about it again, and Kris had decided that it didn't matter how he'd felt that night, he wasn't meant to like boys. He wasn't meant to like Bojan. 

He’d tried to stop himself from looking at boys after that.

He sighed and let go of his cock, hard and leaking in his hand. Who was he kidding? Every girlfriend he'd ever had knew something he was too ashamed to admit. Had seen his touches and looks and love for his best friend that Kris himself insisted were platonic and decided that they weren’t.

Maybe it was the last drops of alcohol in him that had him pull his pants up and stand, his chest still bare, and march across the hallway and into Bojan's room before his nerves could get the better of him.

The man himself was scrolling on his phone in bed, propped up against the headboard and looking so soft and cosy in his pyjama shirt and shorts that Kris wanted to just melt into him. He looked up as Kris lingered in the doorway, his expression just as soft as the rest of him. Kris crossed over the carpet in two strides and crawled up the bed, caging Bojan in below him. He took his phone out of his hands and put it on the bedside table, watching Bojan the whole time. When he found no resistance, just mild curiosity, he took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing his lips to Bojan's.

For an agonising second he wasn't sure if Bojan would kiss back, if he'd made a huge mistake and Bojan didn't want this, if he'd totally fucked everything up.

But Bojan relaxed and kissed back eagerly, his hand reaching up to tangle in Kris’s hair, pulling slightly to elicit a moan falling from Kris’s lips, which Bojan ate up eagerly. Kris didn’t know how long they made out, how long he mapped Bojan’s lips, committing it all to memory in case he never did this again. Finally they broke, breathing softly in each other’s space.

"Kris, are you…"

"I don't...I don't know." Kris cut him off. Not sure what to say, how to explain that he just wanted everything to make sense. He said the first thing he was certain was true though. "I want to feel good. And make you feel good. God, Bojan, I just…I want you."

Bojan pulled him in for a bruising kiss, hot and wet and...desperate. The realisation sent a jolt of need down Kris’s spine right to his still hard dick. Bojan wanted him too. Really wanted him. He wasn’t crazy, or maybe he was for starting this, but he didn’t care.

He kissed back hard, licking at his bottom lip, asking for more. Bojan opened easily for him, a soft noise escaping his mouth as Kris explored it with his tongue, and oh he liked that sound a bit too much.

Bojan was a good kisser, pushing and pulling in perfect amounts, lips and tongue moving against Kris’s in such a way he almost forgot that he'd never kissed him like this before tonight. It felt as natural as breathing.

He pulled back finally, catching his breath and just looking at Bojan. His lips were kiss-swollen, pink and plush anyway but now glistening with spit. His pupils were already wide, engulfing his brown irises in a sea of black. He looked incredible.

“Can I…? Can we…?” How the fuck was he meant to ask this? What was he meant to do here? He hadn't had much of a plan when he’d stormed in, his only thought being that he wanted to feel him, feel his skin and his soft, perfect lips.

Bojan put him out of his misery, pushing him back gently so he sat on his heels before pulling his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, his bare chest and that little patch of hair back on show.

“You can forget about her, okay?” His fingers found the nape of Kris’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss and his other hand found its way down Kris’s naked torso before gently gripping his dick through the thin cotton of his pyjama pants.

Kris jolted at the touch, his breathing coming short and sharp against Bojan’s mouth as he began to play with his penis, not quite stroking it or giving it the friction he needed, rather he gently ran his fingers up and down the shaft, over the cotton pants, teasing him.

Kris bit his lip, trying not to push his hips up to seek more, ask for more. Part of his mind was still screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that he was an idiot and should stop before this went too far.

That thought was immediately thrown out the window when Bojan finally slipped his hand inside Kris’s pants and held his cock properly. Kris let out an embarrassing groan of approval, panting into Bojan's shoulder. He thrust his hips shallowly, Bojan leisurely stroking him, smiling as Kris’s mouth fell open.

It was too much and not enough already. He needed Bojan, wanted every inch of his body from the white streak in his hair to the soles of his feet, Kris wanted it all to be his. Most of all Kris needed to feel his cock, see if it was just as heavenly as his hazy memory told him it was. He grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulling them down Bojan’s hips and off his legs with some assistance, throwing them off the side of the bed, his own pants following soon behind.

Bojan lay on his back below him in all his naked glory. He was beautiful, skin soft and grabable around his middle, the curves of his body flowing beautifully from his shoulders down his arms and waist and ass and legs. Every part of him looked sculpted, legs thick and strong, arms having the perfect amount of muscle to pin Kris down if he wanted but not look overly macho. He lay with one arm above his head, giving Kris an unobstructed view of his armpit hair and fuck, even that was hot. The crowning jewel was his dick, hard and red, shorter than Kris’s own but perfectly proportional, his thickness making Kris’s mouth water. His pubes were trimmed and neat but still there, framing his dick and balls beautifully.

Kris reached out to take it in his hand, his long fingers wrapping around the shaft, velvety smooth skin greeting him. He gave an experimental stroke, feeling Bojan’s dick throb below his fingers at the action. He knelt over him, watching carefully as Bojan smiled up at him, his hips thrusting up gently into his touch, savouring it.

Kris found his hand instinctively searching for a boob, grabbing at Bojan’s chest and almost laughing when there was still something squishy and sizeable to hold. Bojan pushed up into the touch, his back arching beautifully off the bed, gasping when Kris’s thumb ran over his hard nipple.

Kris leaned into the capture the pink bud with his mouth, licking over it before sucking at it. It was smaller than he was used to, but just as enjoyable, especially with the aroused sigh it pulled from Bojan. He kept kneading his other pec with his hand, squeezing and groping him shamelessly. He didn’t feel like a girl below him. He felt like Bojan, totally different and new but his body somehow so familiar after almost a decade of knowing it.

“I bet I’ve got bigger tits than your ex, don’t I?” Bojan’s breathy laugh turned into a groan as Kris sucked hard, pulling his nipple into his mouth before he broke the seal, unable to contain his laughter. He wasn’t wrong, his ex had had a particularly small chest and Bojan…well, Bojan had ample flesh that Kris found himself quickly addicted to.

He smiled, planting kisses along Bojan’s chest, up and up and up his neck and jaw and cheek until they found his lips, both of them smiling too much to give a proper kiss. He almost forgot what they were doing — a moment ago he was just laughing along with his friend about a stupid joke. It felt…normal. How could Bojan make this feel so normal?

A small thrust upwards from Bojan brought him back to his arousal. His hand was still around Bojan’s cock and he gave a small stroke, pulling back to watch Bojan’s expression, see his face contort into one of pure bliss, tongue darting and eyes rolling back momentarily.

“You want to see if your cock feels better in me than in her too?” Bojan asked, winking up at Kris, pupils blown and mouth pulled into a cheeky grin.

Kris had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to stop himself from cumming right then. He had asked for anal at least once with almost every sexual partner he’d had. The forbidden fruit was always the sweetest after all and the very few times he’d been granted permission had felt incredible around his cock. And here was Bojan, offering himself up for Kris to take as he wanted, asked in the most Bojan way possible.

“Fuck, Bojan…just…where’s the lube?”

Bojan twisted under him, reaching into his bedside drawer and passing it over, his only comment on Kris’s eagerness being a light chuckle.

“Have you ever…?”

“Once or twice. With girls. But you should still tell me if it feels good, okay?'' Kris received a nod from Bojan and after a quick kiss he made his way down Bojan’s torso, kissing and sucking at any bit of skin he could find until he was settled on his stomach between Bojan’s legs. Bojan pushed his knees apart, one foot resting on Kris’s back, his thigh next to Kris’s ear. For a moment Kris just looked up his body. His hot, hot body. He wasn’t like anyone else Kris slept with; his curves felt different, his skin thicker but no less soft and his muscles surprisingly strong. He finally looked at Bojan’s face, his hair flopping in his dark eyes, probably in need of a haircut but oh, so pretty as it was. How could Kris have denied himself the pleasure of this for so long? How could he have pretended that he didn’t find him beautiful?

Bojan caught him staring, shooting him a wink before reaching his hand down to tangle in Kris's hair and guide him down towards his now waiting hole.

Kris leaned against Bojan’s thigh, his lips right at the joint of his leg and his body. He placed a few soft kisses, moving closer and closer, one hand reaching up to separate his cheeks and let Kris get a full view of Bojan's anatomy.

Could he call an asshole cute? It really was, puckered and small, just waiting for Kris to lap at it and open it wide enough to take his impressive girth. He hesitated a moment. He'd done this before. Kind of. With girls, usually already dripping wet from their vaginal fluids.

He leaned in and gave an experimental lick, a quick swipe over it that pulled a shudder from the man above him and caused the fingers in his hair to tighten. He did it again and again, lingering just a little longer each time until his tongue was pressed to the entrance. One more push and it gave way, allowing his tongue entrance past the tight, tight ring of muscle. He found himself moaning into it, moving his tongue experimentally, flattening it then tensing it to see what reaction he would get.

He ground his hips down on the mattress below him, drinking in every sound Bojan made, every twitch of his dick or thrust of his hips. Part of his mind wondered how much of his own enjoyment came from the fact it was Bojan specifically that he was eating out. Bojan cursed above him, some muttered praise directed at his abilities he guessed.

He found the pressure around his tongue beginning to release as Bojan relaxed, letting Kris push further in and explore more. It was hot and filthy and he smelled like Bojan and Kris wanted to stay there until Bojan came, his legs crushing Kris’s head as he did. But he wanted more than just that tonight. He didn’t know if he would get another chance to play out his fantasies. Bojan whined unhappily when Kris removed his mouth, giving a final suck to the now very wet hole. 

“Can I…are you okay with my fingers now?” Kris knew logically it was the same, but his confidence faltered, unsure of himself and this new, unexplored territory.

“Yeah just…go slow, okay? I'll guide you if you need. I have enough experience with this after all.” He winked at Kris and a small pit of something ugly stirred in his guts.

He shouldn't have been surprised that Bojan was familiar bottoming, knew what he liked and was confident enough to direct Kris, whose hands still shook ever so slightly as he grabbed the lube and clicked open the cap.

He lubed up his fingers, letting the heat of his skin warm it up a moment before pressing the pad of one to Bojan’s hole.

“You ready?” Kris was surprised at how stable his voice sounded considering how turned on he was and how unsure he really felt. Bojan nodded frantically, tugging gently at Kris’s hair, the other one fisted in the sheets below him.

Kris whined as he watched his finger disappear into Bojan’s tight, hot asshole. He did his best to go slow, to not hurt Bojan but with the way he threw his head back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent scream, he didn’t need to worry much.

He pushed in further, up to the second knuckle before stopping again. The pressure around the digit felt heavenly and holy shit he couldn’t believe he was actually fingering his best friend and, apparently, his gay awakening. He groaned into Bojan’s thigh, biting the skin gently as he pulled his finger back out again, as slow as he could bear to not hurt Bojan, who only panted above him. The second push in earned him a breathy “fuuuuck Kris” and that wasn’t helping his chances of lasting long enough to actually get his dick inside him at all.

His current view was too much, seeing the puckered hole happily take his digit was arousing as anything but Kris wanted to touch Bojan properly, hear his whines and moans and feel his hot skin. He pulled his fingers out and repositioned them, laying behind Bojan, his back to Kris’s chest with Bojan’s leg’s spread wide, one of them thrown over Kris’s hip. He kissed at Bojan’s ear, squirted more lube on his finger and brought his hand back down between his legs, easily pushing in again and sighing in time with Bojan. From this position he could look down Bojan’s body and feel his hot breath on his skin as he watched Bojan’s dick twitch at Kris’s movements.

“You can touch yourself, you know,” he murmured. Bojan brought one hand up and over his head to hold onto Kris’s hair, the other finding his own cock and giving it a few pumps, his head falling back against Kris as he moaned softly.

The sight was hot to say the least, Bojan’s arm muscles flexing with each stroke, his abs clenching and his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths. Kris’s hips pushed up to grind against Bojan’s ass as he opened him up slowly, Bojan occasionally directing and correcting him on his angles and speed.

He was soon pumping in and out easily, occasionally moving his finger around, testing to see what felt best, what pulled out a new moan or hum or groan. Once or twice he aimed very wrong, Bojan wincing in discomfort that was quickly soothed by a kiss to his cheek or lips or neck.

“You ready for two now?” Kris asked, retracting his hand once more to add more lube, teasing Bojan’s entrance gently.

“Mmm, yes, please Krisko,” Bojan panted out, his ass pushing back against Kris's crotch.

Kris was surprised at how easily his fingers slid inside. Bojan’s hand had stilled on his cock, simply holding it tightly as Kris resumed his movements, pumping in and out gently before crooking his fingers in such a way that Bojan arched off the bed accompanied by a loud cry of “right there!”

Kris did it again, rubbing over the same spot inside Bojan and receiving another loud cry, Bojan soon babbling as Kris continued his motions. Kris turned his head to press a hard kiss to Bojan’s lips, breathing hard through his nose as Bojan bucked into his fingers.

Suddenly the pressure around his fingers increased dramatically and Bojan went rigid below him. He looked down and saw his cock shooting ropes of hot, white cum up and over his soft belly. Kris whined loudly, every nerve in his body tingling as he watched Bojan cum, his cock angry and red in his hand, Kris’s long fingers still deep inside him.

This was what Kris had dreamt of. What he let himself fantasise about when nothing else could push him over the edge and he was too horny for shame. Seeing Bojan cum, hearing him groan in immense pleasure and shaking on Kris’s finger as aftershocks wracked his body was easily his new favourite memory, every second of it burned into his brain.

He bucked his hips against Bojan’s ass, desperate for friction for his own leaking dick. The hand that had been holding his hair in a death grip released the strands and found their way to his hip, halting his actions.

“Don’t cum just yet,” Bojan panted out, his words slurred and breathless, still hazy from his orgasm.

“Why?” It came out much more desperate than Kris intended. He wanted to get off too, needed to cum while touching Bojan at least, while still able to enjoy his flushed, delicious body. Before his brain could catch up and stop him.

“‘cause you still have to fuck me,” Bojan responded easily, his voice light and playful and so fucking hot.

Bojan was going to be the death of him.

“Does that mean I should keep fingering you open?” Kris asked slightly hesitantly, unsure of the protocol around these things.

“If you don’t want to tear me open. Just maybe leave that spot alone for a bit.” Bojan turned his head and kissed Kris’s cheek. Kris met him, letting Bojan access his mouth in a sloppy kiss and he began to move his fingers again, straightening them out and scissoring them open, stretching the tight ring of muscles, pumping in and out slowly until he felt he could add a third. 

Bojan was pushing back on the three, beginning to softly speak as Kris stretched him open.

“Fuck, Kriso you feel good, can't wait to have your dick in me, show you how much better I can feel than anyone else.”

Kris nipped at Bojan's ear, his other hand snaking around Bojan’s shoulders and down his chest, playing with his nipple, swapping between rolling the hard nub between his fingers and groping the soft, meaty pec.

“Okay, Princess, I think I’m ready for you now,” Bojan hummed happily, pushing himself up, and taking Kris’s fingers out of him. Kris didn't want to think about how hot that nickname was right now, dripping from Bojan's lips.

He straddled Kris's stomach, pushing him back to lay flat against the bed. Kris looked up at the new angle and did his best to commit it to memory, his hands finding Bojan’s hips and holding on tight as he leaned back over to the bedside table to grab a condom.

Bojan was sweaty, his face flushed and skin shiny. He grinned down at Kris, tearing the corner off the foil packet and leaning down to plant a kiss on Kris’s lips. It was much softer than the ones before, sweet and caring, much more like the one on the couch. The one Kris had freaked out over. He brought a hand up to Bojan’s cheek, feeling the soft skin and the tiny bit of stubble he found there. Safe. Familiar. Bojan. He breathed in as he felt Bojan roll the condom onto his cock, still kissing him softly.

Bojan finally leaned back, taking the bottle of lube from where it had been half abandoned on the bed and gave a generous squirt onto Kris’s dick, spreading it around with practised ease, his hands smaller than Kris’s, making his already quite large cock feel even more impressive.

He raised himself up and positioned Kris to his well prepared hole, pausing for a moment. Kris realised he was waiting for confirmation, assurance that Kris really wanted this. For a second Kris just let himself look at Bojan, let himself fully realise just how much he loved the sight of a fully naked Bojan, skin sweaty from the orgasm Kris had previously given him, belly still stained with drops of his cum, cock already half-hard again and standing proudly, thick thighs tense as they held him up over Kris’s dick, ready to sink down on it as soon as Kris gave his approval.

Kris nodded, pulling down gently on Bojan’s hips to tell him to move. He sank down, the head of Kris’s cock popping into his tight, wet heat and Kris forgot how to breathe. Bojan sank lower and lower, stopping every now and then to catch his breath until he was fully seated, legs on either side of Kris’s waist, squeezing tight as he caught his breath.

Kris gave his hips an experimental roll, pushing up into Bojan and letting out a breathy laugh at the way Bojan’s eyes rolled back into his head, mouth hanging open. He did it again, biting his lip when Bojan’s hands found his chest, gripping it tightly as he ground himself back down on Kris’s cock, meeting every movement Kris made.

Finally he pulled himself up a fraction before letting himself drop back down. He did it again, getting higher and higher and soon he was bouncing himself on Kris’s dick, his tits and cock bouncing with him, his hair flopping in front of his face as he lost himself in the pleasure, practically using Kris like a living sex toy to get himself off.

Kris knew he would leave finger shaped bruises on Bojan’s body with how tightly he was gripping onto his hips, pulling him down and pushing him up, fucking into him as much as this position let him. He pulled his feet up to steady himself on the mattress, giving himself more power to fuck into Bojan. He couldn’t last long, not with the mind-numbing pleasure to his dick or the sinfully beautiful sight of Bojan fucking himself on Kris’s cock.

Kris could barely get out a warning, a babbled cry of “I'm gonna…I’m…oh…fuck...Bojan!”

He pulled Bojan down forcefully, so much so Bojan’s arms gave way and he toppled forward, only just catching himself before he faceplanted onto Kris. Kris held him down as he unloaded into him, his cock pulsing as it pumped his cum into Bojan’s ass. 

It took Kris a second to realise Bojan was kissing his neck and grinding back down onto him, his ass squeezing tightly around his dick, practically milking him dry. His cock gave a valiant twitch inside him as Kris collapsed, his muscles turning to jelly as the last shivers of his orgasm ran through his body.

Bojan too let himself go limp on top of him, finally letting go and just breathing hard against Kris, evidently having just come again.

Kris felt numb. His mind was blank for once in his life. He felt his dick soften, and with a small shift from Bojan, he was out.

The dead weight on top of him rolled off, staring up at the ceiling next to him, their laboured breathing the only sounds in the room. 

“Fuck.” Kris broke the silence. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He brought his hands up to his face, pressing his palms to his eyes in the hope he could somehow erase what he'd just done.

In the post-nut clarity, he knew 2 things.

1. He had just had sex with his best friend after breaking up with his girlfriend, only accepting he was not actually straight just a short while before.

2. He'd loved every second of it.

How was he meant to go back to normal after this? How could he ever look at Bojan's sweaty face again without imagining him bouncing on his cock? How could he spend summers in the same room as him when Bojan abandoned his shirts and not imagine those full, perky tits in his mouth?

He had fucked himself royally.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Bojan call his name and felt his hands being carefully pried from his eyes.

“Hey, Krisko, Princess, look at me, please?” Bojan spoke softly, concern lacing his voice.

Begrudgingly, Kris turned his head, looking at Bojan through blurred vision.

“Kris, are you okay?” 

Even through his tears, he could see Bojan’s knitted brows.

“I think I made a mistake,” he choked out, “because that was amazing and I loved it but I can't…we…I'm not…” The words wouldn't come, any explanation felt weak, too small in the sea of the hundred other reasons why he shouldn't have done this. 

“Hey, listen to me, okay?” Bojan wiped Kris’s eyes with his thumb, his face finally coming into focus, his hand resting on Kris’s cheek in a familiar, soothing gesture. “You're okay, we're okay. If you think I'm not going to be your friend anymore or something stupid like that, you're an idiot.”

Kris glanced away at that.

“I love you, okay? As my best friend, as something more than that, I don't know. But I care about you so fucking much and something like this isn't going to break us despite how much you seem to be freaking out over it.” Bojan's expression was trying to be soothing, but he couldn't quite hide the desperation underneath it, imploring Kris to be okay with what they'd just done.

Kris’s guts swirled unhappily, his brain felt foggy and his limbs tired. He just wanted to sleep and forget this happened, just like when they’d been 18.

“Please Kris, can we at least talk tomorrow?” Bojan's voice was smaller than he'd ever heard it, almost…scared? He looked into his large, brown eyes, those beautiful eyes that had looked at him with so much love and adoration. Eyes he knew he would follow (and had followed) everywhere. He leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet. It felt good. And that was the whole problem, wasn't it?

He didn't know what this meant, what would change for them, if anything at all. He pulled away from him, pulled the condom off his dick, tied it and threw it off the side of the bed.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, I promise.” Kris spoke softly, smiling as Bojan brow smoothed out ever so slightly.

He didn't want to think anymore, his brain too tired and confused to think rationally. Instead he got under the covers with Bojan, snuggling into his heat, head on his chest and let the slow, even beats of his heart lull him into a sleep filled with dreams of Bojan.