Groomsman - The Nightmare Continues - Part 3

I'm very excited to share the next instalment in the Groomsman series, and now the wedding party is in full force, Dean and Max finally get down to what Max's problem is.

Note - This story plays with the edges of consent, but this is what Dean wants so please go with it!

To say Dean was confused was an understatement.

First, Max had swapped their suits over, then Max had yelled at him, and then Max had made it so that he and Dean were sat together during the meal. Dean fully expected Max to mess with him during the meal, but he didn’t do a thing. They participated in the toasts, they chatted to the groom’s college buddies and their partners at their table, they drank wine, and they ate the incredible four course meal that was brought out to them.

Unlike at Max’s wedding, Dean managed to restrain himself and nursed one glass of wine during the meal rather than having a bottle or more. He also tried to abstain from the amazing food, but he failed miserably, something which Max teased him about when he saw that one of Dean’s shirt buttons had come undone. Dean had quickly done it up, but the flush of embarrassment had travelled straight to his dick, and by the time the cake cutting was announced, Dean had a constant semi and just wanted to escape.

“Before we head over to watch them cut the cake,” Max said as soon as the other guests at their table had stood up and left. “You might want to know that you’ve lost another shirt button.”

Dean gasped and looked down at his shirt. Sure enough, the bottom button on his shirt had come off and another window of furry skin was on show.

“Fuck,” Dean hissed. “When the hell did that come off?”

Max laughed. “Let me have a look under here for you.”

Before Dean could protest, Max pushed his chair back, got down on his hands and knees and disappeared beneath the white tablecloth. A few seconds past before Dean suddenly felt a hand on his knee. At first, he was so surprised that he just froze but then the hand slowly crept up his thigh, moving underneath his kilt before squeezing the top of his thigh, the fingers just millimetres away from the bulge in his briefs.

“Max, what the fuck are you doing?” Dean said, pushing his chair back and standing up, stunned that Max was on his hands and knees with a huge grin on his face.

“I assumed you’d be horny after losing a couple of shirt buttons, so I thought I’d help you out.”

“What are you even talking about? Why would I want you to help me out?”

Dean’s confusion was beyond comprehension and the sight of Max’s disappointment as he crawled out from under the table was the icing on the cake. Why would Max be so obsessed with him being horny? And why would he want to feel him up? It just didn’t make sense.

“Clearly I was wrong,” Max said quietly before pushing past Dean and heading outside.

Unsure what to do, Dean loitered by the table for a moment before adjusting his shirt as best he could and then following Max outside.

Dean eventually found Max down by the lake, sat on a bench. “We’re missing the cake cutting you know?”

Max shook his head. “Like anyone will even notice we’re not there.”

“Max, you need to tell me what’s going on,” Dean said, standing in front of him. “I am seriously stumped as to what the hell you’re up to. I don’t know if this is some sort of prank that you and the guys are doing, but I want to know, or I’m just gonna head home.”

Max sighed. “It’s not a prank and it’s got nothing to do with the other guys. They don’t even know about this, and I don’t want them to. I don’t . . .”

“You don’t what?”

Max growled and stood up. “Just leave it okay. Just . . . leave it.”

“Leave what, Max? What the fuck is your problem?”

“You,” Max screamed at him. “You’re my fucking problem. Ever since I saw the photos and videos of you at my wedding, I’ve been fucking obsessed. I can’t stop watching them and jerking off over them. I thought it would pass, but it just gets worse. You’ve always been the hot one, with that fucking rugby body, all thick thighs and bubble butt, and then to see you naked from the waist down and hard as a rock, knowing how ridiculously fucking sexy you are, I can’t deal with it.”

Dean’s mouth hung open in shock as Max ranted at him, his hands flailing around as he gestured his frustration. Before Dean could find the words to continue, Max took a step closer to him, his eyes wild, and his face flushed.

“I even bulked up to try and have a thicker body so that I could obsess over myself, but it’s not the same. And then I thought I’d be able to recreate my wedding today, force you into something tight and watch you unravel, but you’re being so fucking stubborn, even though I know how much it turned on you. I bet you’re fucking hard right now, aren’t you.”

Max closed the distance, lifted Dean’s kilt fiercely with one hand and then used the other to slide beneath the material and grab Dean’s bulge, which was embarrassingly for Dean, hard as a rock.

“I fucking knew it. You totally get off on the attention and the embarrassment. Why can’t you just let me have what I want so I can get over this psychotic obsession.”

Finally coming to his senses, Dean pushed Max away and took a step back. He was stunned by what he’d heard. He would never have imagined for a second that Max would feel that way about him. Dean had always been the odd one out, he played rugby whilst the others played football, he had the thicker build whilst the others were all slim, and he was the token gay guy whilst the rest were all straight. How was he supposed to process one of his oldest friends now having some obsessive crush on him? How was he supposed to wrap his head around the idea that Max wanted to see him horny and exposed?

He just couldn’t process any of it.

“Look, maybe you’ve had too much to drink or something, Max, but I’m sure this is just some weird drunken thing that I don’t get, so . . .”

“Why can’t you understand this?” Max yelled, stepping closer to Dean again. “Let me make it clearer for you.”

Dean had no chance to react before Max was suddenly right in front of him, and Max’s lips were on his. The kiss was entirely one-sided until Max licked a line across Dean’s bottom lip, and Dean momentarily lost his mind and kissed him back. Max’s hands quickly flew to Dean’s bubble butt, kneading his cheeks through the kilt as they made out like horny teenagers, before Dean shook his head and shoved Max off of him.

“I don’t understand where this has come from, or why you’re doing this, but I’m out. Go and enjoy the wedding, Max. I’m going home.”

As Dean turned to walk away, he felt a sudden pressure on the back of his kilt and turned just in time to see Max yank the material. There was a loud rip before the pressure around Dean’s waist suddenly eased and the kilt sagged lower on his hips.

“Fuck,” Dean gasped, grabbing the waistband before the kilt dropped any lower. “What the hell did you do that for?”

Max took a deep breath. “Listen! I didn’t want to do this, but I’ve hidden your stuff. You’ve got no keys and no change of clothes. Just stay at the wedding and let me enjoy you dealing with this, and then I’ll give you everything back and we can just pretend none of this happened.”

“You’re a fucking child,” Dean said, feeling completely cornered. “You’re giving me absolutely no choice.”

Max shrugged. “I needed a backup plan. Sorry Deano.”

“Fuck you, Max.”

As Dean headed back to the wedding reception, he could have sworn he heard Max say, “I wish”, and after that kiss, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that he’d say no, even if Max was completely manipulating him to do what he wanted.

It was going to be one hell of a night!