Bestfriend’s Boyfriend

Here’s my lesson for getting too comfortable. Every weekend, I’d come over and sit on your couch with you and your girlfriend. I guess I always thought you were cute, and looking back, you’d flirt for sure, but I never thought twice about it.

You were my best friend’s boyfriend, and we’d get more and more comfortable the more I’d come over, but at the start, I never thought of you as anything more than just her partner.

I was in a chaotic state in my life, homeless, and bouncing around over family drama. My horniness was at its peak, like it always seems to be, and I’d complain about needing dick. She’d laugh, and we’d smoke and watch movies together.

You were always a little goofy, the guy who could make anyone laugh, but honestly, I thought you were straight as they come, another military man with a traumatic past. We’d bond over our fucked up childhoods spent in the foster care system. I thought that me being sexual around the both of you and talking about my needs was just girl talk that you happened to be involved in.

I guess I should’ve known that one time you came out of the shower and flashed me what was underneath your towel, but I still played it off like it was nothing. Like you couldn’t possibly be into me. We even became Snapchat friends and chatted here and there. Until that one day.

I came over and spent the night. We might even have done edibles, and your girlfriend had to go to work in the morning, so when I woke up, it was just us. You came over to the couch and started talking about how smooth you were because you just shaved and insisted I had to see it…feel how smooth you were.

Silly me being playing dumb until your cock was in my face, and I ended up on my knees before three or more words were said. You said you’d never cum, but I’d finish the job. I sucked you off in the doorway to your bedroom as you pulled out your phone and started looking at porn. What a douche bag and boy, was I an idiot. I couldn’t ever say no when a cock was there in my face like a dog denying a bone. It’s unheard of.

After that, I even helped orchestrate you moving out. You said you were done with the relationship, and I played both sides. I told her what had happened when she came home, and you moved out that day. She even remained friends with me because she believed that it was mostly your fault for taunting me and putting me in that situation.

When everyone at work found out, they called me a slut and a bad friend, which I was, can’t deny. It’s more fucked that I continued to talk to you both and play the middleman, horny for you now. I’d even go to your apartment a few months later and let you fuck me. Somehow, I’d still be a shitty person and only think about the dick.

It took me another year of still talking to you and continuing our friendship to finally realize how stupid I’d been. How I’d ruin a friendship that meant a lot to me over some dick that literally couldn’t care less about me. I’m not even sure what you ever even wanted from me anyway. To this day, I’ve been curious about it.

So one night, years later, I invited you over. I had you drive an hour in the rain to see me, and when you got close, I blocked you and forgot about you entirely. Ending a fucked-up cycle with more shitty behavior wasn’t my finest moment, but somehow, I believed it was your karma. And mine was losing my best friend.

I hadn’t thought about it much until I ran into you at work the other day. For once in my life, I froze, and I couldn’t process anything. I stood there until you were a mere five feet from me, and I said, “Hi.” Then I rushed away, embarrassed, and left having a panic attack over my stupidity.