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Best Friend’s Secret - Finale
🕑 Added 2025-11-15 15:37:53 +0000 UTCAll Characters Are 18+
“So…” Oliver murmured, voice still rough. “You told that guy I was your boyfriend?”
Brad just smirked, pressed another kiss to his lips, and didn’t say a word.
——————
The first thing Brad noticed when he woke up was the smell: Oliver’s skin, warm from sleep, mixed with the faint salt of last night’s sweat and the lingering trace of the lube they’d used. The second thing was the way Oliver’s back fit perfectly against his chest, like two puzzle pieces that had finally clicked.
Brad’s arm was already draped over Oliver’s waist, palm flat against his stomach. His hips moved before his brain caught up, a slow, lazy grind forward, morning wood sliding between Oliver’s cheeks through two thin layers of cotton.
Oliver made a sleepy noise and pushed back, just enough to let Brad know he was awake and interested.
“Morning, boyfriend,” Brad murmured into the crook of Oliver’s neck, lips brushing skin.
Oliver turned his head, chasing Brad’s mouth. Their kiss was soft at first, sleepy and sweet, then deeper when Oliver rolled onto his back and pulled Brad half on top of him. Tongues slid slow, no rush, just tasting.
Eventually Oliver broke away, grinning. “Let’s get in the shower. I smell like a locker room.”
Brad nipped his bottom lip. “I like you like this.”
But he let Oliver tug him out of bed anyway.
They stumbled into the bathroom, laughing when their shoulders knocked the doorframe. The water came on hot and loud. Steam curled around them as they stepped under the spray, mouths finding each other again. Brad pressed Oliver to the tile, kissing down his neck, his chest, mouthing over the faint scars he now knew by heart.
Oliver’s fingers threaded through Brad’s wet hair. “Want to try something?”
Brad looked up, water streaming down his face. “Anything.”
Oliver’s hand slid down Brad’s back, over the curve of his ass, until one finger traced the seam. Brad’s breath hitched. They’d talked about it, late-night whispers after sex, but this was the first time Oliver had actually touched him there. Brad nodded, small and quick, before he could overthink it.
Oliver kissed him deep, swallowing the little nervous noise Brad made when a slick finger circled his hole. “Relax for me, babe.”
Brad exhaled shakily and dropped his forehead to Oliver’s shoulder. The first finger slid in easy with shower water and soap, and Brad’s whole body jolted at how fucking good it felt. Oliver worked him open slow, crooking his finger just right, and when he brushed Brad’s prostate for the first time Brad’s knees nearly buckled.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped, hips jerking forward.
Oliver smiled against his cheek. “Told you.”
A second finger joined the first, scissoring, stretching. Brad’s cock was leaking against Oliver’s stomach, untouched and aching. Oliver kept up a steady stream of praise, “You’re doing so good, look so hot like this,” until Brad was trembling, pushing back on Oliver’s fingers like he was starving for it.
When Oliver curled both fingers and pressed hard on that spot again, Brad came with a broken shout, untouched, cum streaking Oliver’s abs and washing away under the spray. His legs shook so hard Oliver had to hold him up.
They stayed like that a long time, water running over them, Brad’s face buried in Oliver’s neck, breathing each other in.
Eventually Oliver turned the water off and wrapped him in a towel. “Still with me?”
Brad laughed, shaky and blissed. “I think I saw God. I owe you like ten blowjobs now.”
Oliver just kissed him quiet.
They spent the day glued together. Gym first. Brad spotted Oliver on squats, hands low on his hips, thumbs brushing bare skin where Oliver’s shirt rode up. Between sets they stole kisses in the corner by the water fountain, quick and breathless, not caring who saw.
The locker room was mostly empty, but not completely. Brad dragged Oliver into the showers anyway, dropped to his knees the second the water hit them, and sucked Oliver off slow and worshipful until Oliver’s thighs shook and he came down from Brad’s tongue with a muffled curse.
After; they had lunch on the quad. Brad fed Oliver his chips, laughing when Oliver stole his hoodie because “it got cold.” When some guy at the next table stared too long, Brad just slung an arm around Oliver’s shoulders and kissed his temple with a “mwah” sound loud enough for half the courtyard to hear.
The day continued on in a similar fashion. They strolled hand-in-hand like two new lovers deep in the honeymoon phase. Brad no longer cared what anyone thought because he was starting to develop real feelings for Oliver.
That night, back at his apartment, Oliver’s phone buzzed.
Mom: We’re in town tomorrow. Let’s have dinner at Luciano’s, 7 pm. We miss our daughter.
Oliver went very still. Brad read it over his shoulder and felt the shift in Oliver’s whole body.
“Hey,” Brad said softly, pressing a kiss to the hinge of his jaw. “Come back to me.”
Oliver let the phone drop face-down on the mattress. “I knew this was coming eventually. Just…not this soon.”
Brad pulled him down until they were chest to chest, legs tangled under the blanket. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’m right here.”
Oliver nodded against Brad’s neck, but his breathing stayed shallow. Brad rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades until Oliver finally relaxed enough for sleep to take him.
Morning came too fast. Oliver woke up to Brad already half-dressed, pulling on jeans, hair still damp from his shower. The clock read 7:12. Oliver had a 9 a.m. lecture and felt like he’d swallowed cement.
Brad crouched by the bed, brushing Oliver’s messy hair back. “I’ll drive you. And I’m picking you up after your last class. No arguments.”
Oliver managed a tiny smile. “Yes, sir.”
Brad kissed his forehead. “Text me when you’re done with each class. I wanna know you’re breathing.”
The day dragged.
9:42 a.m.
Brad: Still breathing?
Oliver: Barely. Professor just said “let’s discuss gender as performance” and I almost threw up.
Brad: You’re the hottest performance I’ve ever seen. Deep breaths, babe. You’ve got this and I’ve got you!.
11:07 a.m.
Brad: Just crushed my lift. Thought about you on every rep. You’re my favorite pre-workout ❤️
Oliver: sap
Brad: your sap
1:33 p.m.
Brad: Eating a burrito the size of my forearm and wishing it was you instead
Oliver: I will literally block you
Brad: you love me
3:51 p.m.
Brad: Last class done. Parked outside your building. I’ll be here until your class ends. Take your time.
Oliver came down the steps looking pale and exhausted. Brad was leaning against the car, arms open. Oliver walked straight into them and let Brad hold his weight.
“Hi,” Oliver mumbled into Brad’s hoodie.
“Hi yourself.” Brad kissed the top of his head. “Let’s get you home.”
Back at the apartment, Oliver stood in the bedroom staring at his closet like it had personally offended him.
“I don’t even know what to wear to get misgendered in tonight.”
Brad came up behind him, arms around his waist, chin on his shoulder. “Wear whatever makes you feel strong. I’ll be proud of you in anything.”
Oliver turned in his arms. “I’m freaking out.”
“I know.” Brad kissed him slow, walking him backward until Oliver’s knees hit the bed. “Let me help.”
He laid Oliver down gently, peeling off his jeans and hoodie slowly. Oliver’s breath caught when Brad settled between his thighs, pressing soft kisses up the inside of one leg.
“Relax for me,” Brad murmured against his skin. “Just feel this.”
He licked a slow stripe up Oliver’s center, humming at the taste. Oliver’s hands flew to Brad’s hair as Brad took his time: long, lazy licks, gentle suction on his clit, two fingers sliding in and curling just right. Every time Oliver’s hips jerked or his breath caught, Brad soothed him with soft praise.
“I’ve got you…not going anywhere…love how you taste when you’re stressed and needy…”
Oliver came quietly, thighs trembling around Brad’s ears, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from pure relief. Brad kissed his way back up, gathering Oliver close.
“Better?” he whispered.
Oliver nodded, burying his face in Brad’s neck. “Don’t let go of my hand tonight. Please.”
Brad squeezed him tight. “Never.”
They stayed like that until the sun dipped low, two boys breathing the same air, preparing themselves for the battle ahead; only this time, Oliver knew exactly who was fighting in his corner.
Luciano’s was candlelit and quiet. Oliver’s parents stood when they arrived. His mom went for a hug that barely connected.
“Emily, sweetheart, you look—”
“It’s Oliver,” Brad cut in, calm but firm, shaking her hand instead. “Nice to meet you.”
Dinner was a minefield. Every sentence from his mom was a fresh wound.
“When are you going to stop this, Emily?”
“We just want our little girl back.”
“Have you thought about what this is doing to your father?”
Oliver’s hand was gripped tight in Brad’s under the table. Brad squeezed every time they deadnamed him, thumb rubbing slow circles on Oliver’s knuckles trying to reassure him.
When his mom reached across to pat Oliver’s cheek and said, “Sweetheart, hormones can’t change biology. You’ll always be our daughter,” Brad felt Oliver flinch so hard it hurt.
He stood up slowly.
“His name is Oliver,” Brad said, voice steady but lethally quiet. “He’s your son. He’s the strongest, kindest person I’ve ever met. And I love him exactly as he is, as should you. If you can’t respect him, we’re done here.”
Oliver’s mom’s mouth opened but no words came out. His dad went red with anger.
Brad slammed two hundreds on the table. “That should cover everything. Oliver, let’s go.”
He took Oliver’s hand and walked out without looking back.
In the parking lot Oliver was shaking, tears spilling over before they reached the car. Brad pulled him into his chest right there under the streetlight.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Always.”
The second Oliver’s apartment door shut behind them, he was on Brad immediately. The way Brad stood up for him to his parents made him so happy and also extremely horny. Brad undressed Oliver like he was something sacred, kissing every scar, every inch of skin, murmuring love words against his collarbone until he was completely naked.
Oliver clung to him, needy, hurt, needing to feel wanted.
Brad laid him down on the bed, stripped himself, and then slid into him deep, rocking like he could fuck every cruel word out of Oliver’s head. Oliver’s legs wrapped tight around his waist, tears sliding down his face as Brad whispered, “You’re perfect, you’re mine, I’ve got you.”
It was the most passionate and intimate sex they had had to date. Every nerve was firing off stronger than ever. They both felt more connected in this moment.
When Brad eventually came, he stayed buried deep, then pulled out only to slide down Oliver’s body and lick him open, slow and filthy, eating his own cum straight from Oliver’s swollen pussy while Oliver sobbed and came again on his tongue.
After, Brad held him until the shaking stopped, pressing kisses to his temple, his eyelids, the tip of his nose.
The next couple weeks went by perfectly. No more drama, no more tears. Just two boys newly in love and embracing themselves fully. Going out together, holding hands, having sex, and being the partner they both had always dreamed of having.
One night, they were sprawled across the couch, half-watching some action movie neither of them cared about. Oliver’s head was in Brad’s lap, Brad’s fingers stroking lazily through his hair. The apartment smelled faintly of the Thai takeout they’d demolished an hour ago.
Oliver turned his face up, cheek pressed to Brad’s thigh. “Hey.”
Brad glanced down, soft smile already tugging at his mouth. “Hey yourself.”
“That night…after the restaurant.” Oliver’s voice was quiet, almost shy. “When you went down on me after you came inside…I still think about it when I’m trying to fall asleep. Like, top five hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Brad’s smile turned smug and fond at the same time.
“Yeah? Good. Because tasting myself on you was probably THE hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Oliver laughed, reaching up to trace Brad’s bottom lip with his thumb. “You were so fucking perfect that night. I still can’t believe you did that for me.”
“I’d do pretty much anything for you,” Brad said simply. “You know that, right?”
Oliver’s chest went warm. He sat up slowly, folding one leg under himself so they were face-to-face. “Speaking of things you’d do…”
Brad raised a brow, waiting.
Oliver took a breath. “Before that. In the shower. When I had my fingers in you.”
Brad’s ears went pink, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah?”
“You liked it,” Oliver said proudly…not a question.
Brad huffed a soft laugh. “Understatement. I saw entire galaxies, babe.”
Oliver’s smile was small, careful. “I keep thinking about it. How you sounded. How you opened up for me. How you trusted me.” He paused, searching Brad’s face. “Would you ever want to take it further?”
Brad swallowed. “Like…you inside me?”
Oliver nodded once.
Brad was quiet for a moment, thumb rubbing slow circles on Oliver’s knee. “I’ve thought about it. A lot, actually. At first it scared the shit out of me…like my brain kept going ‘dude, that’s gay’ even though I’m literally in love with you and have been eating your pussy like it’s my job for weeks.” He laughed under his breath. “But then I realized…I want it. I want to feel you that way. Want to know what it’s like when it’s you doing it to me.”
Oliver’s heart was hammering. “Only if you’re sure. We can go slow, we can stop any time, we can…”
“I’m sure,” Brad cut in gently. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I trust you more than anyone on the planet. And…I want you to fuck me, Oliver. I want you to experience what it’s like on the giving side. You’re a man and you deserve to do it and I want to give you that.”
Oliver let out a shaky breath that was half-laugh, half-groan. “Jesus, warn a guy before you say shit like that.”
Brad grinned, kissed him soft and slow. “Order whatever you want. I already looked some up actually, there’s this one that looks realistic, thick but not scary, black harness. I’ll pay for overnight shipping.”
Oliver pulled back just far enough to stare at him. “You little slut. You’ve been researching.”
Brad’s grin went wider, unashamed. “I contain multitudes.”
Oliver kissed him again, deeper this time, until they were breathless and laughing against each other’s mouths. He grabbed his phone and they pulled up the toy that Brad had seen. Without question, they placed the order.
“Tomorrow,” Oliver whispered. “Tomorrow it arrives, and I’m going to take my time opening you up until you’re begging for it.”
Brad shivered, pupils blown. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
The next day, the strap-on arrived.
It was decently thick, realistic, six inches, black harness. He handed Oliver the box with that shy, eager grin that made Oliver’s chest ache.
“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” Brad said. “I want to feel you own me the way I own you.”
Oliver laid Brad out on his stomach first, spread his cheeks and rimmed him until Brad was a whimpering mess, pushing back on Oliver’s tongue like he was starving. Then fingers, one at first. Slowly working its way in. Then a second was added to the mix, causing Brad to squirm and moan in ecstasy. Then finally three thick ones, curling and scissoring until Brad was rocking and begging, cock leaking onto the sheets.
Oliver rolled him over, slid a pillow under his hips, and buckled the harness on. He stroked lube on it as Brad watched, pupils blown wide, chest heaving.
“Look at you,” Oliver whispered, lining up. “So hot spread out for me.”
He pushed in slow. Brad’s back arched off the bed, mouth open on a silent scream. Oliver worked his way in slowly. Every minute or so pushing an inch further until he bottomed out and stilled, letting Brad adjust, kissing him deep and dirty.
Then he started to move.Slow drags out, hard slams back in. The harness slapped against Brad’s ass with every thrust. Brad’s hands gripped at the sheets, at Oliver’s back, anywhere he could reach. Oliver folded him nearly in half, legs over his shoulders, and fucked him hard and deep, watching Brad fall apart.
Brad was slightly in pain, but this was his boyfriends first time topping and he didn’t want to take away from his experience, so he gritted his teeth and bore the pain until it eventually turned into pure pleasure. It felt like it had in the shower, but better.
Oliver eventually found his pace. A steady glide that had Brad moaning like crazy. He reached forward and pinched Brad’s nipples as he took his virgin hole. This moment proved that he would do anything for Oliver and made their bond that much stronger.
After 10 or so minutes of consistent penetration, Brad came untouched, cock spurting across his own chest, shouting Oliver’s name like a prayer. Oliver didn’t stop, just changed the angle and kept going until Brad was sobbing, oversensitive and wrecked, begging please, please, don’t stop.
When Oliver finally pulled out, Brad was shaking, tears on his cheeks, smiling like he’d never been happier.
Oliver unbuckled the harness with trembling fingers, cleaned them both up with a warm cloth, then crawled into bed and pulled Brad into his arms. Brad buried his face in Oliver’s neck, breathing him in.
“I love you,” he mumbled, voice raw. “So fucking much.”
Oliver’s arms tightened. “I love you too.”
They hadn’t moved in at least twenty minutes. Oliver was on his back, chest rising and falling slow, one arm flung over his eyes, the other wrapped loosely around Brad, who was half-draped across him, face buried in the crook of Oliver’s neck. The harness lay discarded on the floor like evidence of their sex-capade. Brad’s thighs still trembled every few seconds with little aftershocks.
Oliver’s fingers traced lazy circles on Brad’s sweat-damp spine.
“Hey,” he whispered, voice hoarse from shouting earlier. “You alive in there?”
Brad made a muffled sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Pretty sure you killed me and this is heaven.”
Oliver grinned into his hair. “Good death?”
“The best.” Brad lifted his head just enough to press a clumsy, exhausted kiss to Oliver’s collarbone. “Ten out of ten. Would let you kill me like that again.”
Oliver’s chest went warm and soft. He kept stroking Brad’s back. “You were perfect, you know. The way you took it…the way you trusted me…fuck, Brad.”
Brad hummed, nuzzling closer. “Love you,” he mumbled, like it was the easiest thing in the world now.
Oliver’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed. “I love you too.”
They were quiet for another minute, just breathing each other in.
Then Oliver said, “When do you have to renew your dorm lease?”
Brad blinked, brain still floaty. “Uh…paperwork’s due beginning of next month, I think. Why?”
Oliver’s fingers traced lower, over the curve of Brad’s hip. “What if you didn’t?”
Brad lifted his head properly this time, eyes sleepy but curious. “Didn’t what?”
“Renew it.” Oliver met his gaze, steady. “What if you just…moved in here. With me. Like, officially.”
Brad stared at him for a long second, then a slow, goofy smile spread across his face. “You serious?”
“Dead serious.” Oliver’s thumb brushed Brad’s cheek. “Your dorm bed is tiny, the walls are thin, and basically live here already. Here we have a real bed, a shower that fits both of us, and I want to wake up to you every single morning. So…what if you didn’t renew?”
Brad’s smile got bigger, eyes going soft and a little shiny. “You want me here? Like, all my shit, all the time?”
“I want you here,” Oliver said simply. “I want your dumb protein powder taking up half the cabinet and your giant shoes by the door and your hoodie that I steal every night. I want it to be ours.”
Brad leaned in and kissed him, slow and deep and tasting like salt and sex and home.
“Then I’m not renewing,” he whispered against Oliver’s lips. “I’m already home.”
Oliver laughed, the sound shaky with relief and happiness, and pulled Brad back down into his arms.
“Good,” he murmured into Brad’s hair. “Because I’m never letting you leave.”
A week later the last box was in.
Brad shut the door to what was now their apartment, turned the lock, and leaned back against it. Oliver stood in the middle of the living room surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, hair messy, wearing one of Brad’s hoodies that hung off one shoulder.
Brad crossed the room in three strides, cupped Oliver’s face, and kissed him slow and deep.
“Told you I wasn’t going anywhere,” he whispered against his lips.
Oliver smiled into the kiss, hands sliding up under Brad’s shirt.
“Good,” he said. “Because you’re home now.”
And then there were no more words, just the sound of boxes being kicked aside and two boys finally, perfectly, theirs.
Comments
Brendan Gavin
Perfect happy ending😉 Have loved this story
Manny
I love this story so much! I’m so happy they both got what they wanted in the end.
