Straight

XVI (NSFW)

By the time he walks into the auditorium he's so tired he wonders how he's going to last the hour. It's a quartet concert. Mendelssohn. 
I mean, he likes it fine. He'd rather be playing it himself though, if he's honest. 
He sits down next to Brett in one of the red seats. On his other side is Jill, a second year violinist, who sometimes goes out with them to the bar. 
She's quite pretty, actually, with her long, dark, sleek hair. She's half Asian, and he likes her dark, almond shaped eyes. He glances down her body when he's sure she won't see. Small, perfectly round breasts swell gently under her black silk blouse. 
They sure look nice. 
He looks back up to the stage, but to be honest his heart isn't in this one. He's thinking about those curves, in the seat one over. But just as he leans back a little more and allows himself to go there, suddenly, without warning, all of the other images put themselves in its place. 
Brett, as he dresses, the little droplets shining on his back that by now must have long since dried. Brett, falling apart under his hand by the door last night. Brett's hand, on him like that... Eddy grunts without sound and crosses his knee quickly, so no one will be able to see how hard he is. Tries to think about something, anything else. 

He thought he would have trouble with this silence, this sitting still, because he's tired and would fall asleep. He didn't think he'd have trouble because he's so turned on he can barely sit still at all. 
He doesn't look at Brett. He's not sure whether Brett's aware of what's going on with him, he hopes to God he doesn't, but he might, Eddy knows that. But he is definitely sure that he doesn't want to acknowledge this, shouldn't acknowledge this, even if Brett knows. He takes off his sweater and puts it in his lap. 

At least no one will be able to see. 
The end of the concert comes and as people start filing out of the hall he manages to smile at Jill, before he turns to Brett. He holds his sweater in his arm, just loosely, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. 
"I'm just going toilet, alright? Be back in a minute."
Brett looks at him for a second too long, and Eddy grimaces slightly. But Brett says nothing, he just smiles. 
"Yeah, I'll go get us some coffee."

Eddy bursts through the downstairs toilet door and locks it behind him. His hand is already on his fly, his dick almost bursting through the fabric. 
Jesus, how has he gotten so turned on so quickly after last night? He knows he doesn't have a lot of time,  but he won't need long. At all. His fly is open already and he takes himself into his hand, starts jerking quickly. 
"Fuck..." he whispers as he tugs. And God, he wants to think about Jill, wants to picture those nice tits in the cute black blouse, but he knows he's a lost cause before he even starts. His mind knows what it wants, and it isn't Jills tits. Reluctantly he allows the thoughts back in. 
Brett's head thrown back as he comes all over his floor and Eddy's hand. That grunt, that deep groan that came from unknown depths. The little beads of sweat on his back as he dressed. Eddy sits down on the closed toilet seat and takes a wad of toilet paper in his left hand. 
"Fuck..." he whispers again and comes into the wad, the waves traveling through him and bringing some relief. 
But it's not the same, is it? 
He pees quickly and tries to feel relieved, not empty. Pulls up his trousers, flushes and stares at himself in the mirror. His face is pale, haggard.

Jesus H. Christ. He is in so much trouble.