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The party they attend that night goes as usual, with Brett social-butterflying around the place and Eddy left mostly to his own devices. He sips at his drink as he wanders, occasionally pausing for a quick conversation before he tires of shouting over loud music. He dances a little, but keeps finding himself alone in the middle of the room. He finally gives up on party-related activities, settles down on the couch with a glass of punch, and waits for Brett to be done.
That doesn’t happen until almost two in the morning, and by then he’s almost asleep.
“Eddy! Eddy, wake up.”
Brett is a blurry presence in front of him, shaking his shoulder and raising his voice, so maybe he was more than ‘almost’ asleep.
“Wha...?”
“Time to go! By the way, I’ve had too much to drink so I’m gonna leave my car here and James is gonna drive us home, okay?”
“Kay,” he manages around a too-thick tongue, but by the time Brett helps him to his feet his brain has started working again. “Wait, didn’t James drive a bunch of other people here?”
“Yup. It’s gonna be a tight fit, but it’s a short drive.”
When they reach James’ car, Eddy’s reservations grow stronger. “I don’t think we can fit six people in there. Maybe we should call an Uber.”
“Can’t. The soonest we can get one is an hour from now, and I’ll be asleep in an hour.”
“It’s okay,” Mark chimes in. “Bretty’s small, he can sit in my lap.”
Eddy turns to give him a look. “No, he can sit in mine.”
“Oooh, is that how it is?” Mark asks, grinning, and Eddy feels himself blush. He glances over to check Brett’s reaction, but Brett doesn’t seem to be paying attention.
They pile inside, with Peter taking the passenger seat and Mark seated between Eddy and Tyler.
Brett plops himself into Eddy’s lap like it’s no big deal and leans back against him. Once James starts driving Brett wiggles around until he finds a position he likes, which happens to be with his ass wedged firmly against Eddy’s crotch.
Eddy’s cock apparently decides it enjoys the combination of a vibrating car, darkness, and Brett’s ass pressed against it because he gradually, inexorably hardens.
Eddy’s face and ears flush hot — there’s no way Brett doesn’t realize what’s happening; the thin fabric of his shorts hides nothing, and Brett isn’t even attempting to keep any distance between them. If anything, he settles back more firmly as Eddy makes a quick adjustment so his cock rests more comfortably against his belly.
Eddy tries shifting his legs, counting backwards, thinking of awful things — but none of his usual tactics are any match for Brett vibrating in his lap.
Worse, he can’t tell if Brett hasn’t noticed, is pretending not to notice, or is enjoying teasing him with occasional shifts of his hips and arches of his back.
When they hit a pothole he goes sliding forward, almost smacking into the back of the passenger seat. “Eddy, hold onto me better,” he says, a playful whine in his tone.
Which must mean that he knows. Or at least suspects. How could he possibly not know?
When Eddy doesn’t immediately respond, Brett grabs his arms by the wrists and wraps them around himself. “Like that,” he says, settling against Eddy’s chest, the swell of his ass nestled against the base of Eddy’s cock.
It’s all he can do not to whimper as Brett begins moving, barely perceptible rhythmic motions that send his arousal skyrocketing.
He muffles a groan against Brett’s back.
“You okay there, Eddy?” Mark asks. “You’re not gonna get car sick, are you?”
“Hope not,” he returns weakly. “I’d hate to vomit all over my best friend.”
“Not the worst thing you could do all over your best friend,” Tyler jokes, but Eddy’s less than amused because that’s becoming more of a possibility by the moment. His cock throbs and leaks, his thighs tighten with mounting tension, and his toes arch within his shoes.
Brett says nothing but begins wiggling up and down, settling a steady rhythm and sending Eddy’s heart rate soaring.
Desperate, Eddy grabs one of Brett’s hands and squeezes it tightly, and Brett returns the pressure while squirming more purposely.
“Sit still, dude,” Mark complains.
“Can’t,” Brett says pleasantly. “I gotta pee. Didn’t you see how much I drank tonight?”
The others cackle.
“Pee on Eddy!”
“No, don’t,” Eddy says, his voice strained as his cock twitches against the crack of Brett’s ass.
Brett sighs. “Are we almost there?”
“Yeah,” Eddy manages. “Just… about.”
“Ten more minutes,” James calls from the driver’s seat. “You gonna make it?”
He can hear the smirk in Brett’s voice. “Almost definitely.”
Eddy dimly wonders if that’s really the problem, if all of Brett’s squirming and undulating has nothing to do with teasing Eddy and everything to do with a full bladder. If so, then he’s the worst for getting off on Brett’s discomfort.
They go over another pothole, and Eddy groans as his cock releases a spurt of pre-come.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Eddy?” Mark asks. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotta piss too.”
“I’m fine,” he grits out, and Brett squeezes his hand and strokes his fingers with a silent message.
He drops his chin onto Brett’s shoulder and presses his cheek against his neck, his breathing turning shallow and uneven. “Brett, ahh Brett,” he whimpers, and Brett changes his rhythm, shifting about and squirming harder.
Eddy squeezes his eyes shut as the muscles in his thighs and belly tense and tighten unbearably. His breathing shifts again, now little more than strained gasps and suddenly Brett speaks.
“I know this song,” he exclaims, “…and the routine! Turn it up!”
He starts singing loudly while shimmying a demonstration of the dance. Their companions join in as Eddy groans through his release, his cock pulsing against his belly, his body trembling helplessly as blood roars in his ears.
Ditching the dance mid-move, Brett lowers the window and lets the cool air blast their faces. When the others protest in unison, he shrugs. “Eddy’s feeling carsick,” he says.
“I’m never driving the two of you anywhere again,” Mark says, turning down the music. “Pair of biohazards.”
“Be quiet, you’re making him feel worse.” Brett half-turns in his lap to loop an arm around his neck and press their cheeks together. “You okay?” he whispers.
“Better now,” Eddy manages, breathing hard against him.
Brett makes affectionate sounds into his ear, not seeming to care what the others think or say and to their credit, they’re not saying anything. They seem to have accepted that Eddy is struggling against car sickness and Brett is comforting him and have wisely chosen to stay out of it.
When they arrive home, Brett exits the car first and pulls Eddy out into the darkness. “Gotta run guys! Thanks for the ride,” he calls before closing the door and hurrying Eddy out of sight.
“Walk in front of me,” Eddy says, and Brett sticks close despite the fact that there’s no one around to see his come-splattered t-shirt. They make it inside in record time and collapse against the door in a fit of nervous laughter.
“You did a Tiktok dance I didn’t teach you,” Eddy says, and it almost sounds like he’s accusing Brett of having cheated.
Brett responds with a loopy grin. “No I didn’t. That dance doesn’t exist, I made it up on the fly. On top of being an exhibitionist, I’m also now a trend-setter.”
Eddy covers his face with a hand and laughs. “It was definitely a night of firsts.”
“But hopefully not lasts.”
He takes Eddy’s hand and tugs him towards the bedroom.