The Best Friendships Not Only Survive Minor Disasters, but Are Made Stronger By Them
“So,” Pierre asked, kneeling on a bar stool and leaning way too far over the bar. “When are you and Murph going to get married?”
Odin dropped a glass, which fortunately only hit the counter and didn’t break. “Shut up. We’re not getting married, we’re just friends, you dumb loser.”
“Don’t call me a loser!” Pierre said, scowling, but only for a second. “And you’re not just friends if you get a boner every time he walks in the room.”
“It’s not every time, it’s only most of the time,” Odin muttered. “We’re friends. We hang out sometimes. And talk about stuff, like bandits and carpentry and eggs.” They both agreed that eggs were weird.
Pierre nodded. “And when you’re not talking about swords and wood and making babies, you imagine you’re kissing him, right?”
“I don’t!” Odin said, alarmedly looking around the inn to make sure Murph hadn’t materialized from the stable where he was helping Arch and Tomas fix some doors to hear Pierre say that and totally ruin their totally normal friendship that was in no way sexual or horny. They hadn’t jerked off together or bathed together or even talked about sex at all, which now that Odin thought about it was maybe a little weird, but he was more than capable of ignoring that.
Fortunately, Murph wasn’t here, just Tommy, sitting in the corner and drinking. Or looking at a mostly empty cup. He’d been doing a lot of both since he’d started staying at the inn instead of his house, and even though Aunt Tina was probably right that it was safer for him to be here than in his house where bandits might come and kill him, it would still be better if he could stay at Declan’s house or something.
Pierre was still talking, which was making it easier to ignore Tommy and also the boner Odin had started to get when he’d thought about Murph and jerking off in the same sentence. “I can talk to him if you want,” he was saying.
“If anything, you’re too good at talking.”
“Thank you. I bet he wants to kiss you just as much as you want to kiss him.”
“He does not and you’re not allowed to talk to him.”
“Um, I talk to him every day, but okay. If he doesn’t want to kiss you it’s because he’s stupid.”
“He’s not stupid,” Odin said, scowling as he carefully put the glass away.
Pierre nodded. “I don’t think so either. He’s good at a lot of hard things, right? Like building stuff and cooking. He’s better at more things than you.”
“Life isn’t a contest.”
“Only losers say that. I bet he’s really good at kissing,” Pierre continued blithely. “And probably other stuff too! He’s been to so many places he probably got really good at sucking dicks and putting his dick in people’s butts, plus he has four dads, so I’m sure he knows a lot about…”
“Pierre,” Odin said, voice cracking. “Stop. God, you’re not even supposed to know about that stuff.”
“I learned about it from you!”
“Yeah, but only so you’d shut up,” Odin muttered. Clearly that had been a mistake; now Pierre still talked endlessly, but he was also dangerous.
“You guys should at least compare dicks,” Pierre told him. Behind him, Tommy got up to go to the privy, no indication that he was paying anyone any more attention than usual. “That’s like a normal thing that all friends do, you wouldn’t even have to admit you have a crush on him and you’d get to touch his dick with yours! It’s perfect!”
“No,” Odin explained, but then the door opened and Murph came in by himself, looking sweaty and hot, and also hot. “Hi.”
“Hey,” said Murph. “Any chance I could get a drink?”
“Sure,” Odin said, nodding a lot but not moving. “Right, a drink, yeah.”
He got down a glass without looking and poured Murph water from the pitcher on the bar, and kept watching as Murph drank the whole thing, his throat moving a lot. Wow. He put the glass down when he was done. “Thanks. It’s getting hot in that stable with us all in there.”
Odin nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. Because of the doors, I mean. They generate heat when they move.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Murph agreed. “There’ve been a lot of doors swinging all over.”
Pierre rolled his eyes. “Hey, Murph, Odin was just telling me how now that you and him are friends, you should compare dicks!”
“What, no,” Odin said, falling and steadying himself on the bar. “No, I was not saying that, that’s not a real thing that I was saying, Pierre is a liar who has a serious speech impediment that sometimes makes him say dick when he means haircut and also makes him lie compulsively, so you should never listen to him actually.”
“It’s what he was saying,” Pierre said seriously, giving Murph a nod. “It’s like a thing you do in Great Scar when you’re friends with someone. I think they do it in other places too, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Murph said, giving a cough. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard of that. But it sounds like Odin doesn’t actually want…”
“I definitely don’t,” Odin lied, his boner throbbing at him to tell the truth. “That’s not a thing I do.”
“It’s because he has no friends,” Pierre explained.
“Also not true, I have friends. Until today Pierre was my friend, and Murph, I think you’ve met Howard, he’s my friend, we’ve been friends for a long time.” Odin had just talked to Howard yesterday and it had been about Howard’s girlfriend and also about Murph a little bit.
“Yeah, and they’ve compared dicks,” Pierre added. “Odin’s going to say they didn’t, but I saw them.”
“That’s because you’re a spy and a creep and that was different,” Odin strained.
“Hey, it’s okay,” said Murph. He looked so uncomfortable. This was it, this was the end of Odin’s friendship with him. He hated Odin all over again and now he was never going to want to talk to him again. “If you don’t want to do it with me, that’s cool. We haven’t known each other for that long.”
“No, but we’re great friends!” Odin blurted out. “I think we’re friends, right? I think.”
“I think so too.”
“Great,” Odin said, smiling. He was so relieved, holy crap. “So I guess we can compare dicks, then.”
Wait. Wait, no, that wasn’t what he’d meant to…
“Sure,” Murph said, smiling. He came around the bar and pushed open the kitchen door. “Just quickly, though, my dads are expecting me back soon and you know how dads get when they think you’re dicking around.”
“Yeah,” said Odin, who frequently dicked around. “Yeah, for sure. Wait, what?”
But Murph was already in the kitchen, so Odin followed him in, shutting the door behind them. Murph was waiting for him against a counter, and he had a boner, which was a weird thing to have before a friendly dick comparison, Odin thought. He also had one but that was because he was weird, and Howard had always had one during their comparisons but that was because they’d accidentally trained themselves to think this was foreplay by always jerking off together after. “Just talking about dicks,” Murph said. He was smiling awkwardly, but he was also unlacing his pants very not awkwardly, and Odin couldn’t help but watch him, because Odin was pretty sure his dick was in those pants. Shit.
The kitchen door could open in two parts, top and bottom. Sometimes they only opened the top part to hand food over, but now Pierre had opened the bottom part so he could peer through like the spy he was even though Odin literally had not tried to stop him from coming in. “Come on, Odin,” he complained. “You can’t compare if yours is in your pants.”
“Can you go away?” Odin asked him.
“No, I’m the lookout,” Pierre told him, not looking at anything but them. He pushed his pants down and was touching himself. “Plus there’s no chance of it being weird if someone watches, and you make everything weird.”
“I do not,” said Odin, who did. Whatever. He started unlacing his pants, eyes still glued to Murph, and reached into them to take his twitching dick out of his smallclothes. Murph was doing the same.
They pulled them out together. Murph had such a pretty dick, holy shit. It was pretty much the normal size and shape and colour, curved a little upwards and purple around the head. Odin wanted to kiss it.
“Wow, you are big,” Murph said, staring at Odin. “Nice.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” said Odin. Howard had always said that too. “I like yours, it looks like it feels good.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? Dammit, Pierre was supposed to be stopping Odin from making this weird but instead he was just masturbating in the doorway like a normal person and letting Odin be the super weird one.
“It does, a bunch of times a day,” Murph said. He moved a little closer to Odin. “I guess we don’t really need to do this part, but it is a comparison, so…”
“Y-yeah…” said Odin. They were going to touch dicks, holy shit. He was going to touch Murph’s dick. This was the best day of his…
The door outside banged open, someone coming into the inn. “Crap,” Pierre said, ducking into the kitchen with them and shutting the lower half of the door. “Murph, it’s your dad.”
“Oh, fuck,” Murph said, at almost the same time Tomas’s voice called out.
“Boys? Pierre, was that you I saw just now?”
They all tried to get dressed and it didn’t totally work, but just as the top half of the door swung open, Murph dropped to his knees to hide, his nose brushing Odin’s dick as he did.
Odin could only watch as he exploded, cum spurting out of his dick, all over Murph’s face. He strangled his cry, not sure what the fuck to do except point his dick somewhere else, but there was nowhere else to stick it because he had to lean on the lower half of the door to talk to Tomas. “Hi.”
“Hey, Odin, Pierre,” said Tomas, trying to peer into the kitchen. “You seen Murph? He came in here to get a drink.”
“He’s, uh…” Odin looked down at Murph, who was covered in cum. He didn’t look thirsty, or mad or anything. He looked kind of happy, actually. Hopefully Tomas couldn’t see them with their pants down behind the door here. He was leaning in more than was really necessary, like he was suspicious of them.
“He’s in the privy, I think,” Pierre said. His pants were up, at least. “I can go get him if you want!”
Tomas laughed and leaned fully on the door. “Nah, it’s fine. Just making sure he wasn’t in here dicking around on our time. Can I get some water while I’m in here?”
“S-sure,” said Odin, starting to move before remembering his pants were still on the floor. “Pierre, go out and pour Tomas some water. I have to watch the pot so it doesn’t boil.” Holy shit, holy shit.
“Okay!” Pierre said, climbing over the lower part of the door and going out into the bar. “What kind of water do you want?” he asked. “We have the wet kind and the cold kind.”
They went out, and Odin sighed. Holy shit.
A second later, Murph crept away from the door and stood up. “Hi.”
“Hi. Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry.” This was way worse than all the times he’d spilled things on Murph, holy shit.
“It’s okay,” said Murph, taking a rag and wiping his face and hair clean. His hair still looked sticky, but at least it didn’t have cum in it. “It happens. Thanks for covering for me. My dad would never complain about cum on my face, but he would complain that I wasn’t helping when I was supposed to be.”
“Yeah,” Odin said. Murph seemed fine. They were still friends. “I get that. I…I need to get him some water from the basin.” He picked up an empty pitcher, mostly because having something in his hand would make him stop wanting to have Murph in his hand.
“Yeah. I’ll sneak out the back and pretend I was in the privy. Thank God for Pierre.”
Odin nodded. “He’s a lifesaver when he’s not being the literal worst.”
“Yeah.” Murph threw the rag in the bin with the other dirty ones, and he smiled as he headed for the door. “Hey, Odin?”
“Next time it’ll be my turn to cum on your face, right?”
Odin dropped the pitcher, just barely catching it with his foot. “Sure!”
Murph nodded and left, and Odin stood there for a good minute before he realized what he’d just said. He had to dirty another rag before he was fit to go back out into the main room.