My Best Man

Ian woke up without opening his eyes, initially. He was hoping to spare himself the glare from the morning light—perhaps afternoon light, actually—and feeling the aches from being in the same position for a while. Trying to move his arm, Ian found it immobile. Briefly concerned, he opened one eye to find his arm immobile because it lay under the sleeping best man at his sister’s wedding.

The wedding was a blur and he knew that he was in bed with his new brother-in-law’s best friend, a Marine—Special Services even—and a raging homophobe. He and his sister had yelled at each other over her dating Stephen, then their engagement and now their wedding. Ian had even thought to boycott the wedding but their parents had talked him into it and even being a groomsman. The new brother-in-law, Stephen, had said that while the thought of having gays in the military “creeped him out,” he wasn’t passing judgement, in general, on being gay. Stephen’s father wasn’t as “kind” and refused to shake hands even at the wedding.

Opening both eyes, he confirmed his bedmate was indeed the geeky-looking best man. Andrew? Was that his name? The mass of bright red (orange really) hair sticking straight up and the stark whiteness of the guy’s skin and the undefined pectoral region had two copper circles on either side. Freckles scattered at random across the plain of Andrew’s—was his name Andrew?—chest was oddly causing a stir in his groin prompting him to try and remember last night. What was the first thing he remembered? He felt his face flush as the image of a HUGE purplish red cock bounced into his memory and the taste at the back of his throat confirmed there had been sexual activity. But Andrew? If indeed that was his name.

Looking at the thin lips and the golden red hair on the guy’s arm was not unenjoyable. The guy was cute, geeky cute. He raised the sheet gently and peered down to see the same unruly red hair surrounding a long and thick, even in soft mode, delicious-looking cock. Well, that seemed to confirm the issue; he had sex with the best man at his sister’s wedding.

Good God! Wasn’t this guy straight? He wasthe best friend of his new brother-in-law. And a lot of alcohol had been consumed by everyone. Oh shit! This was not going to end well.

He tried extracting his arm from beneath Andrew, slowly and carefully. Looking around the room, he saw a confused trail of rented tuxes scattered around a hotel room that was not his own. So, Andrew—God, I hope that is his name or I am just a slut not to remember—had brought him back to his hotel room. The trick was to get some clothes pulled together and get out of there without waking the sleeping man beside him. All of the visiting wedding party was situated on the same floor of the hotel. So, possibly running into friends or relatives was going to be problematic. But he had to get of the room for that to be more of a problem.

He pulled haltingly and slowly and his arm was almost free when Andrew rolled toward him and pulled closer to him almost face to face. Holding his breath, he thought of his next move as he saw Andrew’s eyes flutter and open wide.

“Good morning.” Andrew smiled and leaned forward and used those beautiful thin lips to give a full-blown buss on the lips. He could feel Andrew’s tongue playing for entry and the heat build between his own legs. His world was spinning out of control and he pulled back to look the redheaded young man beside him square in the face.

“Hi.” And that was all he could get out of his very dry throat.

Andrew—if that was indeed his name—wrapped the other arm around him and seemed to settle in for the morning. Seeing there wasn’t any rush on Andrew’s part, he relaxed a bit, enjoying having surprisingly strong arms around him.

Andrew smiled a sheepish grin, cocked his head to one side, and admitted, “My name is Andrew, by the way. I’m not sure we were ever really introduced.”

He doesn’t remember my name either. Whew.

“I’m Ian. Jessie’s brother.”

“I remembered the brother part,” Andrew said as he smiled a blazing smile and his green eyes sparkled. Lord, he didn’t even look hung over and Ian felt as if the entire Russian Army had trudged through his mouth.

The phone on the nightstand rang and jarred them both back to the present. They both stared at the phone as it continued to ring. Both men looked at each other.

“This is your room, Andrew.”

Andrew reached across him to answer the phone, further pinning Ian to the bed. “Hello? Just waking up, Frank.” Frank was the groom’s father. “Well, what time is it anyway?”

Andrew reached down and gave Ian a lick behind the ear. He apparently knew that drove Ian to distraction—usually—but knowing Frank was listening killed the arousal factor.