'Just come out with me. It'll be fine, it won't be like last time.' Now, if I had £1 for every time that statement had come out of my best friend's mouth, I wouldn't be living in a tiny one bedroomed apartment just outside Newcastle city centre. The statement came from one of my best friends, Mark. We both played for the same Sunday league football team and had done since we were in school together. Wherever one of us went, the other quickly followed. Shortly after we left college and we're going to university; Mark told me that he was gay. He was open with the other guys who played on the team and as it should be, nobody was bothered by it in the slightest.
When Mark told me that he was gay, it wasn't something that was ever on my radar. I'd known him since we were kids and he'd always had girlfriends until we were about 16. At which point the relationships seemed to dry up, but I never assumed that he was into guys. Now, we were both 25, working good jobs and enjoying ourselves with the nightlife that Newcastle had to offer. I didn't think I was a bad looking guy; I'd been playing sport since forever and was a regular at the gym after work. I had a nice set of abs on me, and the usual trendy haircut with a beard. It annoyed me though, that Mark needed to be one better than me all the time, although the one thing I had over him was hair. He was bald, the hipster beard, was slightly taller than me at 6ft 3, and would always be in the gym more than I was. On a weekend though, Mark tended to be out every Saturday, me on the other hand, I was just getting back into it after splitting up with my long-term girlfriend.
Me and Olivia had been together for nearly 7 years, but towards the end the spark had fizzled out and I found out that she'd been cheating on me with someone she worked with. I packed my bags, moved out and now found myself living in this tiny apartment. That meant I had Mark begging me most weekends to go out with him. It normally meant hitting the gay clubs in the town, then the longer the night went on, the less I'd see of Mark before realising he'd obviously gone home with someone and left me on my own. But every time he begged me to go out with him, he'd promise, 'it won't be like last time.' But I knew it always would be, I didn't get annoyed with him, I was just happy at least one of us was getting some.
I hadn't been with anyone since I split up with Olivia and that was getting on for 6 months now. I was that sick of jerking myself off, I set myself a personal challenge when November came around. I decided to take part in 'No Nut November,' which was really a silly idea for someone who had gotten used to jacking themselves off daily. And I knew that Mark wasn't partaking in 'No Nut November,' and he wasn't even hiding it anymore. I'd lost count on the number of times that I'd gone over to his before football practice, only to find him ushering some guy out of his apartment before he got changed.
There was one time though, that I obviously turned up slightly to early. I knocked on his door, sports bag on my shoulder just expecting to spend some time chilling before we went to football. He answered the door in just a pair of shorts, and clearly nothing underneath them. His cock was making a tent in his shorts, and it was impossible not to notice.
'Come on in, I won't be long, just finishing up,' he turned and headed back to his room.
I walked over to the sofa, dropped my bag on the floor and took a seat whilst Mark closed his bedroom door behind him. It became clear quickly that he wasn't alone in there. Soon there was soft moaning coming through the door, before the familiar sounds of body-on-body contact. My cock started to harden in my shorts, but I was just putting it down to my lack of action recently. The moans got louder over the next few minutes until eventually there was a big grunt from what I assumed was Mark and the noises came to a stop.
A couple of minutes later Mark appeared from the bedroom, 'I've told him to see himself out,' he said with a smile on his face.
'Seriously dude?' I gave him a look that told him I was unhappy with him, and I hid my erection as we left and headed to football practice.
'You could have told me you had company,' I scolded him as we walked towards the pitch.
'Now where would be the fun in that,' he slapped me on the back. I guess I had no choice but to forget it, but luckily, I didn't have any awkward coming together with the guy he was fucking.
But now we were back on a usual Saturday, I was at home in my apartment milling about, not sure what to do with myself whilst Mark begged and pleaded with me to join him on another Saturday night out.
'Just come out with me, it'll be a good night out,' Mark began his usual pitch over the phone.
'Will it though?' I had my usual doubts, 'you'll find someone to take home and I'll end up on my own in the corner of the bar.'
'Honestly, I won't this time,' he was so full of bullshit. 'I just want to go out for a few drinks, we don't have football in the morning, so I want to make the most of it.'
'We've had this exact conversation on numerous occasions,' what more could I say at this point. 'I end up avoiding being flirted with and make my own way home.'
'I promise I won't do that tonight,' he made one final pitch.
'Fine,' I gave in. 'But I swear if you ditch me tonight, I'll be fucking pissed.'
'That's why you're my best friend,' he laughed. 'I'll see you tonight, I'll meet you at your place, the usual time.'
After that, I got showered, dressed in my usual casual attire of a white t-shirt, black skinny jeans, white trainers, and a bomber jacket. I had my usual Calvin Klein boxers on as well, and I'd just happened to choose the ones with the pride themed waistband for my night out in a few gay bars. When Mark arrived at my apartment, I was already ready to go, so we left straight away, and I just followed along as we went round all of Mark's favourite bars. For many of them, we stayed together apart from when he drifted off to have a little flirt with whoever showed him any attention.
That was until we reached the last bar of the evening, just as Saturday night slowly turned into the early hours of Sunday morning. Mark had been gone for well over 30 minutes now and I knew exactly what had happened and I was just waiting for the text to confirm it. Five minutes later, my phone vibrated, and I saw a text message from Mark, 'so sorry, bumped into an old friend and headed back to my place, please don't hate me.' I laughed at the message and went back to my drink; I'd just bought a new pint so wasn't going to waste it.
'What's a pretty little thing like you doing at the bar alone?' I heard a voice behind me before a hand was on my shoulder and someone was standing in front of me.
'Came out with a friend, turns out he got a better offer halfway through the night,' I laughed. 'It's not the first time though, and probably won't be the last.'
As we were chatting another guy appeared and stood next to the one who'd been chatting to me. 'Where are our manners, I'm Oli and this is Jayden.'
Oli was an older gentlemen, obviously kept himself in good shape, was the same height as me (6ft) and had a goatee. Jayden looked a little younger but probably still older than me, he had a top knot, no facial hair and was a couple of inches smaller than both me and Oli. I shook their hands after they introduced themselves, 'I'm James, it's nice to meet you both.'
