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Tom couldn’t sleep to save his life. He found himself sitting in the dark living room, eyes glazing over at nothing out the windows. There’s was nothing happening outside that could keep his focus; the streets and lights melted together into a haze. It had been raining off and on for several hours, now into the early morning. Tom had tried to listen to the ambient sounds of the rain and city to fall asleep, but his mind would not go silent. So much in his waking life has begun to weigh him down and he could not even find relief in sleep. When his stomach isn’t churning from the aftermath of the hearing, his brain provides a loop of the conversation he can’t get out his head after all this time.
What kind of person proposes an open relationship on the night of their wedding?
What kind of person does that make Shiv, and what does that make Tom to pretend everything was fine? He thought he could get over it but really, how could anyone? It was like repeatedly picking at a scab until it scarred. All he could muster was a wide, frustrated chasm in his chest. Tom groaned and rubbed his hand down his face. He needed something to take away the incessant nagging. He looked back outside, as if to find his greater purpose there. Thinking of the day ahead only made his stomach lurch. He covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow and exhaled forcefully. After a moment of holding this position, Tom righted himself and pulled his phone from his pocket. What he really needed was to talk to someone. Not anyone, but the one person who would be up at this time of night and still be coherent. The number was dialed before his brain could catch up.
…
The noise woke Greg up, violently snapping his neck back into position. While it was a nice couch, the back of it aligned perfectly for him to lean his head at spine-severing angles. He had only meant to close his eyes for a second but the day had caught up with him. Leaning all the way forward, Greg rubbed his neck and picked up his buzzing phone from the coffee table. “Hullo?” He said, trying to mask the grogginess.
“Greg.”
“Tom? What’s up? You didn’t need me to do anything by tomorrow, right? I only left a few hours ago at this point.” He replied.
“No, I…” Tom’s voice trailed off. “I can’t sleep, everything about the hearing as fucked with me.” Anything to not bring up his marital issues, even in his bleary state Tom knew better. Especially with him.
“Yeah I know what you mean…” Greg responded. While he enjoyed talking to Tom, the last thing he wanted to think about was the hearing. “Are you like, okay?”. The other end was silent for an extended moment before he heard Tom’s exasperated sigh.
“I’m…inconceivable, Greg.”
“Oh, that sounds…” Greg paused, looking around for the right word. “Bad.”
“Yeah, bad. That’s what it is.” Tom scoffed and ran a hand over his hair. He was too tired to be more cutting.
Greg leaned back a bit, unsure how to proceed. “Well, do you wanna come over? We can take a night walk. I did that earlier and the rain has definitely gotten better since then.” Greg peered outside of his window to check if the rain had in fact gotten better, only to realize it was too dark to see anything but his own reflection.
“A night walk, Greg? Why the hell would I want to roam the streets?” Tom asked.
“It’s alright, actually. I like to just walk around the neighborhoods to clear my head. Although it started raining on the way back and I got soaked.” Greg explained. “Didn’t get down to my underwear so it could have been worse.”
A brief silence suspends Greg’s last detail in the air. He quickly laughs, trying to change the subject before Tom can have this weird comment over him. But the image of Greg sitting in boxers alone has already been committed to the man’s memory. He sits a bit more upright in his seat, ready to attack.
“Mm just in your underwear, huh? At this time of night, it sounds like I’ve caught you quite indecent.” Tom says teasingly.
“Well, no,” Greg quickly interjects. “I’ve got a shirt on -“. He looks down and pulls at the fabric, as if Tom could see it was really there.
“Oh I’m still scandalized, Greg. You need to be careful, someone might think you’re trying to…seduce them.” It was too easy to get a rise out of him. The neurons in his brain had begun firing again and Tom felt more alert. Greg stammered for a second before Tom cut him off. “Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”
Greg inhaled sharply in surprise. He leaned further back into the couch with widening eyes. “W-what?” He cleared his throat and tried again. “What are you…wearing, Tom?”
“Sweatpants and a t-shirt, you pervert.” Tom retorted on the other end, giving a low chuckle. Greg returned one in response. Tom couldn’t help himself at this point. He continued. “You would ask me what I’m wearing, freak. What? You wanna kiss me next?”
Greg’s protest gets caught in his throat at that last comment. “I wasn’t gonna say that, man.”
“Yeah sure, Greg. It’s the nature of being up at this hour.”
Greg shifted in his spot on the couch defiantly. “I was asleep when you called, actually. So, you’re the freak that wants to kiss me.” Tom scoffs in retort.
“Well, why did you pick up? You have your phone taped to your hand in case I call you after hours?” He mocks.
Greg blows a huff of air into the receiver. “Fuck you.”. The words come out meaner than he meant them, but Tom seems to not notice or care.
“You sound obsessed, Greg.”
“Well, you’re the one that called me.”
“Hm” Was all he said to that.
Tom looked out the windows again and let out an animated sigh. “Who knew that listening to you get all flustered would put me in a better mood? I should hit on you more often.” Another round of gasps and stammers came through once more, amusing him to no end.
“Well, okay, Tom. If you’re just gonna call me to be a prick, let’s go. What if I take my shirt off? What would you think of that?” Greg shot back. He leaned forward again, elbows propped on his bare knees. New determination rose out of the thick blanket of exhaustion to not lose this exchange – whatever it was. He heard a soft chuckle in his ear.
“What would I think of that? I’d think a lot of things, Greg.”. Tom laughed for a second before continuing. “Go on, take it off then.”
Greg scoffed and set his phone beside him while he wrestled out of his shirt, balling it up and tossing it on the floor by his feet. The muffled sounds of rustling fabric and miscellaneous exhalations in Tom’s ear mixed with the white noise from outside. He closed his eyes to take it all in. The image of Greg in only boxers came back into frame and he let it linger there. Without much thought, his hand moved toward his lap. Plausible deniability in full effect: doesn’t everyone sit with their hands by their crotch and have it not be weird? While this may be true, Tom realized something that made him open his eyes before he was ready. Plausible deniability goes out the window when you’re hard. He let his hand stay there, starting to slowly curl around the base of his shaft through the loose pants.
Greg put the phone back to his ear and announced triumphantly, “Shirt’s off, idiot. You didn’t think I’d actually do it.”. He leaned back into the soft cushioning and could hear Tom’s breathing on the other end.
“Yeah I’m the idiot.” Tom remarked sarcastically. “But now I have you in your underwear all to myself.” Even though no one else was in the apartment, Tom kept his voice low. He could no longer decipher if what he was saying to Greg was meant to be to teasing or legitimate. Either way, he kept a hand squeezed in place.
Greg’s eyes widened and he scanned his surroundings in bewilderment. He should have felt embarrassment in getting set up, but he didn’t. It was something about the way Tom’s lower register hit his brain that made him unable to think clearly. It was all he wanted to hear at that moment.
“I…well now it’s not fair I’m the only one.” Greg said after finding his voice again. “You gotta take yours off, to even it out.”.
Tom sighed. “To even it out.”, putting his phone on the couch while he flung his shirt to the floor. As he returns the phone to his ear, he absentmindedly looks to the windows again. Taking an estimated guess that people below wouldn’t be able to see him from up here if he became, as he had put it, indecent.
A hesitation fell over the two men as they sat back in their respective spaces, now shirtless with increasing tension crackling through the line. “How are you feeling, Greg?” was the first thing Tom could think to say. The hand in his lap now moved under the fabric and bolder it its grip.
Greg was feeling strange, but comfortable. This was obviously new territory for him, but he didn’t want it to stop. His body felt electric at the prickling of sweat beginning to form. “Good…good I feel good.” was what came out. It amused Tom enough to emit another low chuckle, making Greg’s breath catch. He felt himself harden, straining uncomfortably tight against his boxers. He was in too deep, Greg took a breath before continuing. “I…Tom I don’t know how to say this…”.
Tom slowly moved his hand up and down his dick, feeling it out. Christ, had it been a while. Just hearing Greg’s voice was starting to do it for him. “Say what, Greg?” Tom said, keeping his voice as level as he could make it.
Greg opened his mouth and at first nothing came out. He moved his hand down his front and into his underwear. “I, um, are you doing this on purpose, man? I’m like, crazy turned on right now.”. He shut his eyes and braced for Tom’s response, desperately hoping he hadn’t read the situation wrong.
“I’ve been touching myself, if that’s what you mean.” Tom breathed into the receiver. He could hear Greg make a strained noise on the other end and began to increase his speed.
“Me too. Touching myself, I mean.” Greg choked out. “Is this happening? I-“ Greg cut himself off with a short groan. He could hear Tom’s breathing get heavier, Greg focused on it while he caught up.
Tom was leaning farther back into his couch, sweatpants now pushed down his legs, exposing himself to the dark living room. He was in it now, might as well go for it. “Greg, I-“ Tom was never good at dirty talk and this spur-of-the-moment interaction was no different. “Keep going. Arch your back for me, too.”
It came naturally, as Greg was starting to squirm in his seat. He let out a longer moan at this slightly new position. “Fuck, Tom.” he breathed, not sure how to finish that thought, maybe that was all he had meant to say. Soon the underwear was too constraining and Greg hurriedly shoved them down to his ankles. He steadied himself again and stroked long and purposefully. Their breaths started to move together as the two men continued, listening to the other.
Tom let out a small moan followed by a louder grunt. “Just hearing you get all flustered over the phone is enough for me right now-” He paused. “-Wish I could see it in person.”.
Greg’s eyes darted around the living room as he mulled the comment over. Did he actually mean that? Greg focused on what was in front of him, imaging Tom taking up space in this setting. Tom standing in the doorframe. Tom walking over to the couch. Tom on his knees next to the coffee table… “Yeah-“ Greg choked. “Fuck, keep talking to me like that. How are you, uh, touching yourself?”
Tom leaned his head back into the cushions. “I’m going faster now, thinking about what you look like when you’re fucking yourself.” Tom moved over the head of his shaft rhythmically, letting small exhalations escape as he talked. “God what I would do to you if you were here.”. He held onto every moan coming from the receiver. Greg kept his head down, gripping his cock hard and desperately keeping the phone to his ear. His head swam as he focused on Tom’s voice. He let out an exasperated gasp as he continued. The sweat that formed started to sting his eyes and he only stopped to quickly push his hair out of the way. The only sounds to be heard for several moments were muffled shifting combined with sharp inhales and exhales. After some time, Greg broke the silence. “Tom I started t- Shit I think I’m close.” Greg’s cock throbbed and he could feel the precum leak out as his hand moved back over the head. He lurched forward to get a better grasp on himself and increased the speed. The precum made a distinctly slick noise that Tom could hear on the other end.
“Oh, you seem excited.” Tom said facetiously. His own member straining in his grip as he worked himself. The tangled noises Greg was making on the other end were about to send him over the edge. Tom readjusted himself to a hunched position and started making thrusting positions into the air in time with his pumps. Greg sounded incapable of answering with words, only sputtering gasps. “You can’t even form sentences anymore. You’re just moaning in my ear like a bitch, huh?” Greg made a guttural noise in response, Tom estimated that it was in fact, meant to be words. Christ, he really did want to see the state of him in person. Tom’s eyes unfocused and he absorbed each moan and gasp Greg was making like it was in front of him. He kept the phone steady with one hand as he fucked the other more erratically. The previous thought of Greg sitting alone had shifted to imagining the lanky body sprawled under him on the couch. Or maybe the floor? Tom stared at nothing while he pumped hard, thinking only of Greg being a writhing mess when he was done with him. He could feel himself quickly reaching the peak but needed to hold out a bit longer. Tom forcefully caught the phone between his ear and shoulder and spoke gruffly into it “Are you gonna cum for me, Greg?” An obvious line, but still one he needed an answer to.
“S-soon.” Greg couldn’t take it much longer. His hips bucked involuntarily, giving louder moans than intended. Detaching from autopilot just long enough for embarrassment to run hot through his whole body. If Tom was going to hold anything over his head, it would be that he could not shut the fuck up. But at what felt like seconds from the edge, Greg did not care. The reflective self-loathing would surely drift in later. At present, his thoughts were focused more on where he was going to finish that wasn’t living room furniture.
The two men continued for several moments until Greg abruptly said in a tight voice “Fuck, fuck I’m cumming, Jesus Christ-”. He quickly grabbed the t-shirt by his feet and spilled into it. His phone still plastered to his ear, letting Tom take in the entirety. He blinked hard to shake himself from the daze; a new wave of fatigue soon crashing onto the endorphin rush. He breathed loudly into the phone, almost eclipsing the sound of Tom’s own approaching climax. Not even addressing the situation he’d found himself in, Greg’s main concern was cleaning himself up. He finished wiping the cum into the shirt and discarded it to deal with later. He pulled the boxers back up indifferently — as if the craziest fucking thing hadn’t just happened. “Jesus Christ.” he said again, flopping back onto the couch and leaning his head against the top of it.
Tom glanced down at his shirt laying in a heap on the floor. He didn’t really have a choice at this point and figured finishing in it was the best option. He grabbed it quickly and balled it around his cock with one hand. Tom leaned his head forward and squeezed his eyes shut, jutting into the fabric harder with each movement. The sensation grew too overwhelming, and it was Tom’s turn to be reduced to moans. He pressed himself deeper into the shirt as he came. He opened his eyes again, staring blankly down at the mess he created. Tom jutted into it once more as he attempted to clean himself, flinching at the slightly irritated skin making itself known. Tom dropped the soiled fabric to the floor the second he was done using it. The thought of it immediately categorized as a problem dealt with later. Tom covered himself with his sweatpants again, returning to normalcy. Several seconds passed as the two men caught their breaths and decided how to move forward. Greg’s voice was first.
“I, that wasn’t what I…” He stammered before finding a cohesive sentence. “Do you feel better?”
Tom leaned back and stuck a hand in his hair. “I guess so. Didn’t actually change anything, except maybe I’ll be able to fall asleep finally.” He could feel the exhaustion starting to creep into his muscles. He sank lower into his spot on the couch.
Greg shifted in his seat. “Was that, like…too short of a time to cum?” He asked sheepishly.
“I don’t know, Greg. I’ve never jacked off over the phone before.” Tom replied, falling back into an easy sarcastic tone.
Greg breathed a laugh into the phone. “Same, I guess.”. He waited for Tom to say something before facing the obvious question. “Hey so, um. What do we do now?”
“What do you mean ‘what do we do now’? You’re talking like the Earth split open.” Tom answered flatly.
“Yeah, but, come on Tom.” Greg said. “We have to see each other tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Greg let out a sigh, admitting defeat of the topic. “Me too.”