My Neighbor is Home For Xmas

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

His Mom had rearranged his bedroom, and I only noticed because his bed lined up perfectly with my window the day he came back. He wasn’t even in there when I noticed it, just an empty mattress with fresh sheets pulled tight, his hoodie tossed at the foot of it showing that he’d gotten home already. I was kind of excited to see him again. I stood there staring for a while, almost pretending I was just zoning out, but my eyes kept drifting back to his bed. It felt private in a way. I couldn’t explain it. It was almost like I’d stumbled onto a quiet corner of his life, like I was seeing something private I wasn’t supposed to see.

I told myself it was nothing, but I kept imagining him dropping into it, stretching out, and pulling the covers up. The weird part was how familiar it felt already, like I knew what it was going to look like before he even laid down in it.

My mind flashed back to one time, before he left for college last Summer, when we were walking back from a football game together. It got super cold out of nowhere, and he gave me his hoodie. It was warm, and comfortable, and gave me a fuzzy feeling inside. I remember the smell of him. I could still remember it. I got quiet after I put it on, long enough that he asked me, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking up at him. “Thanks for the jacket.”

It was my neighbor, Jason, and he was always a “cool” guy. He had an effortless way about him and he never tried too hard. He was a year older than me, taller, broader through the shoulders, especially during football season, and he always moved like he knew where he was going, if that makes sense. He was just confident, like he had gotten a manual to life that I had never read. When he talked, people leaned in. Girls bit their lip when they talked to him and looked up in a flirty way. When he told a joke, it seemed like it always landed. 

I noticed stuff that I always pretended not to, the way his shirts stretched across his chest, the way he wore shoes from a thrift store sometimes, with no socks in them, with a certain confidence that I felt like I would never be able to get away with.

Besides a few school events and stuff like that where we ended up walking home together because we were neighbors, we only chatted here and there occasionally over the years. Driveway hellos and quick jokes, but we never really hung out. On the rare occasion we actually talked for more than ten seconds, we would talk about girls, updates about who was hot now, who hooked up with who. Just stuff that I thought of as typical straight-guy check ins. 

After living next door to me for my whole life, he went off to college this year, and safe to say I’d always thought he was the coolest guy in the world, so that was hard to get used to. Our houses were close enough that I had always been able to hear his music through his window sometimes, close enough that I knew his routines without even trying to. I told myself that was normal, that everyone clocks older guys they know like that. Still, whenever he looked me in the eye and asked how I was doing, I felt a small, annoying jolt in my stomach, like I was being seen a little too clearly for comfort. It was a type of charisma, at least by my definition. I remember noticing when I didn’t see him around anymore, and I had this gut feeling like I had missed my chance for something. I felt like I should’ve tried harder to be friends or make an impression. He was always cool to me, and we probably would’ve hung out more if I had made an effort.

A few days ago he came back for holiday break, and my stomach dropped a bit the second his name popped up on my Instagram. Just a dumb story of his driveway and the caption “home,” nothing special. I felt it inside myself anyway. My stomach had started to flip before I even registered what the pic meant. I told myself it was just because I found something that might break my boredom, just winter break vibes, just noticing someone familiar back in my orbit. Still, I checked his profile again two minutes later. Then again. I kept picturing him unpacking next door, tossing that hoodie down, moving through his room. I didn’t admit it even to myself, but I had been waiting for him to come back, and the second I knew he was home, I felt a different energy in myself. When I peaked out my window into his room, I noticed his bed was now in my direct line of sight, and my subconscious mind started making its own plan, unbeknownst to me.

That night, I acted on an impulse, and without even explaining to myself why, I actually dragged my own bed a few inches so it lined up closer to the window. It scraped softly across the floor, like I didn’t want to alert anyone, even though no one was watching. I stood on the mattress to check the angle, adjusted it again, then climbed up and lay back, testing how it felt. From there, I could see straight into his bed from my own. It made my chest tighten in a way I pretended was nothing, but it was the excitement and nerves of a boy with a plan. 

I told myself it was just funny, just proximity to a cool guy I looked up to, just two dudes on winter break with nothing better to do. Part of me framed it as wanting to be closer, like we would be sharing the same late nights, the same routines. I even laughed to myself when the phrase “bed buddies” popped into my head. I almost texted it to him, but then stopped myself before hitting send when I cringed upon reading what I had written.

When I settled under my covers and stared toward his window, my body felt alert and awake, like it was waiting for something to happen even if I hadn’t even thought of what it would be yet. 

When I finally saw him enter his room and close the door, I froze for a second, not sure what I was doing or where the line was. I told myself I was just looking out the window, same as always, but my eyes stayed locked on him as he kicked his shoes and pants off and peeled his hoodie over his head. I wondered if it was the same hoodie that he had leant me that one time. Then I wondered why I thought about that. 

He pulled off his shirt, stretched once, arms up, underwear lowering just enough to show the skin below his waistline and the top of his pubes for a second, and I felt that tight, butterfly feeling in my stomach again before he dropped back onto the mattress and threw his blanket over himself. The dim light from outside the window spilled across the sheets and just barely showed the shape of his body. It was agonizingly just barely dark enough that I couldn’t really see any details. He pulled up his phone, lighting his face. It didn’t even hit me right away that, naturally, both of us were probably about to take care of our dicks the way boys do at the end of the night.

I shifted under my covers, aware of my own body waking up, heat pooling low in my gut. I kept telling myself that it was normal, that every guy does this, that it had nothing to do with Jason, but part of me felt different. Still, I watched the way he settled in, the way his hand disappeared beneath his blanket, and I lay there breathing slow, trying not to acknowledge my pulse hammering while my thoughts kept drifting back to horny things.

I saw it and didn’t look away, the small, repetitive movement under his covers, and it made everything in my body lock in at once. I told myself I wasn’t watching him, not really, just noticing the room, the light, the timing, but my eyes stayed fixed. My chest felt tight and my stomach warm, a confused mix of nerves and excitement. It felt wrong in a technical sense, and somehow right in a way that made me relax into my pillow. I kept breathing slow, hand still at my side, pretending this was just a coincidence, just two guys winding down the same way on the same night. 

The truth was simpler and harder to admit. Watching him take care of his dick right in front of me made something in me feel ecstatic. 

I reached down to pull myself out of my underwear, and before I even got it out, I came immediately. I was jizzing in my underwear while my abs tensed, jolting my body forward.

“What the fuck?” I muttered out loud, as I felt myself continue to ejaculate as an orgasm ripped through my body. I gripped my shaft through my underwear and just held it, feeling it pulse and squirt out, coating my crotch and the fabric of my underwear. It felt like it went on forever, and it was intense to my core, like it almost hurt.

When my pleasure pulses finally stopped and I came to my senses, I looked up to see Jason had finished too. He was turned to his side in his bed, his phone off. 

With the post orgasm glow flowing through me, my confusion was gone, or rather I simply didn’t care about it anymore, and I wiped myself up, thinking about nothing but sleep.

The next morning, we woke up around the same time. And I saw him get up and stretch in his room. He was facing away from me, and I just saw his arms and back muscles tense and his butt tighten in his red underwear as he stretched his body. He flexed in his mirror, and I caught myself almost trying to look for a glance of his morning wood, but stopped myself.

I shook myself out of my bed and noticed my own morning wood was stronger than normal, almost hurting. I flicked it, and suddenly wondered if I was “big enough”. I glanced one last time back into Jason’s room, for no reason at all, but he was gone.

I went downstairs and no one was home. I loved it when I was home alone. I sat on the couch most of the day, playing on my phone, watching TV and Youtube. I thought about Jason every five minutes, wondering if he was hooking up with a girl, or what he was doing. I thought about texting him, but cringed at every icebreaker I thought of. I was basically shut down with nerves. I watched out our living room window, but never saw any sign of him.

I only went out once, to help my friend Kenny set up a new media stand in his room that his parents had bought him as an early Xmas present. I stayed to play some video games when we were done.

“How’s your break?” I asked as we started playing, sitting cross legged in front of his TV.

“Good. Boring,” he said, focusing on the screen as he mashed buttons, “You?”

“Same,” I said, “Just beating it honestly.”

“Bro, why would you tell me that?” he said, leaning away from me in an exaggerated way and furrowing his brow, still not looking at me.

I felt kind of bad, but had to force a chuckle to avoid letting him know. “Shut up, you love it.”

“Gooner, confirmed,” he said. This time we both chuckled for real. But in our circle of friends, gooner was definitely a bad thing, code for a loser who does nothing but jerk off all day. We used it to refer to nerds with no friends.

“Shut up,” I said. And that was the end of that conversation, as the game picked up and got intense. I was grateful for the change of focus after seeing his reaction.

That night, I started to get excited after dinner before I even realized why. When I got in bed, I waited up for an hour playing on my phone before I saw Jason enter his room and drop his pants. He got down to his underwear in seconds and hopped into his bed. 

My stomach was telling me it was showtime again, even if I felt a sense of guilt for spying on him in a way. It was weird how he didn't seem to notice me at all.

I watched him play on his phone and do nothing for five minutes until I finally broke and texted him.

Me: Did you know anyone can see straight into your bed now lol

Even though I saw him looking at his phone, it took a couple agonizing minutes of self doubt before he texted me back.

Jason: Well yeah I can see you too, but no one is looking into a dude's room at night lmao

Me: I saw you last night lol

Jason: Saw me what

Me: Jerking off

I stared at the screen after sending it, thumb still hovering over the send button after tapping it. My chest felt tight and hot at the same time, waiting to see if I’d just ruined everything.

The typing bubble popped up, disappeared, then popped up again. When his reply came, it wasn’t shocked or defensive at all like I had expected.

Jason: lol

Jason: you’re probably beating off too

Me: yup

I paused for a moment. I felt a bit liberated, hard in my underwear, gripping myself with excitement. I felt drunk on the openness of the moment even though I had never even had a beer yet.

Me: How often do you do it

Jason: Every night

Me: lol same

Me: and like once or twice earlier in the day too

I stared at the screen for a second after sending that, wondering if I’d overshared.

Jason: What’re we supposed to do when twitter just hands us whatever we need lmao

Jason: Can’t control this dick it’s hard all the time

I shifted under my covers, aware of my own body reacting again, and typed back.

Me: Same bro haha

The words looked harmless on the screen, but my heart was pounding again like we’d just crossed a line. It felt like doing something we weren't supposed to be doing.

A few minutes passed. I glanced over as little as I could, but I watched him to see what he was doing. No sign of funny business, just scrolling. Even though we had acknowledged we could see each other, he didn't acknowledge me at all except via texting.

Then he suddenly texted me a twitter link. It was a profile. I scrolled down and was bombarded with a feed of hardcore porn. Girls getting demolished in a hot way. It was pretty arousing already at first glance. My face felt hot the second I opened it. Getting that sent from him felt intimate in a way I hadn’t expected. Jason was sending me porn.

I texted him, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

Me: Good shit

Jason: It's my alt

My jaw dropped open. Oh shit.

It was his alt twitter profile, the one he used just to retweet whatever he jerked off to. Scrolling through it was a direct line into what flipped the switch for him and made him horny, and what messed with my head was how close it lined up with my own tastes. Same energy, same vibe, the same kind of clips that made my dick hard. No soft stuff. I was flushed with emotion and horniness. It was a direct line of sight to everything that got him off, and he had identical taste to me. He liked girls taking BWC, especially getting cummed on and taking multiple dicks together. Zero lesbian porn. It was perfect.

I texted him before I could overthink it.

Me: Dude it’s perfect.

Almost immediately, new posts started popping up on the twitter feed, one after another, still warm from his thumb hitting retweet, and I reached down to touch myself properly, inside my underwear.

I saw it out of the corner of my eye before I meant to, that unmistakable rise under his covers. But we were still texting and he didn't care that I could see. My heart slammed against my ribs. I saw him laughing about something stupid, shoulders relaxed, then go back to rubbing himself under his blanket. I thought my brain couldn’t explode any further, when he pushed the blanket down to his thighs. I cursed that it was basically too dark in the room to see anything except his face illuminated by his phone. Still, it made my throat go dry knowing that his dick was out and exposed.

I told myself that my physical response was just a guy thing, just biology doing what it does when porn is in front of a hormonal male, but my eyes kept drifting back to Jason. The fact that we were mid-conversation somehow made it worse, or better, I couldn’t tell. My own body responded heavily, heat pooling in my core as my cock ached and throbbed, my heartbeat racing. I stayed still for a minute, barely breathing, pretending I hadn’t noticed him jerking it while my brain replayed the image of his exposed body over and over. I texted him again, trying to keep it light even though my hands were shaking.

Me: Bro you’re beating it right now

He replied immediately.

Jason: Follow along for the ride if you want

My heart leapt. I stayed on my back, phone glowing against my chest, watching the feed update in real time. I peaked back at him repeatedly, but it was still too dark to see anything clearly except his face focused on his phone, his thumb scrolling and tapping every so often. My brain filled in the blanks of his nude body anyway, building him as a hung stud, with a huge dick that took up his entire fist, matching the porn clips on his feed of the dudes with long, thick rods he was silently sharing with me.

My emotions rushed through me all at once, and I finally reached down to pull myself out of my underwear, trying not to cum quickly again like the night before. But in the moment, heat and relief crashed together so hard I came again before I even pulled it out. My reaction was so tense I had to bite my lip to stay quiet as I involuntarily grunted through a tensed face. When I finally finished, soaked yet again in a load of my boy batter, my first thought was to text him.

Me: I came

Jason: I’m just starting my goon tonight. Gonna be a long edge and a big orgasm.

Fuck. My head felt light, like I was floating, my thoughts completely scattered. The tension in my mind was wild. I started stroking again under my sheets, using my gooey layer of cum as lube before I pulled my dick out to the open air and spit on it for added lubrication, watching his videos as they continued to appear on the feed. I had never felt so good in my life. I felt like I took ecstasy or something. I came again so quickly I didn’t even feel it coming. I still didn't stop stroking, scooping up the new addition of warm jizz off my stomach to use as another dash of lube. He texted me in the middle of it.

Jason: I’m about to blow my big gooner load

And my heart skipped a beat again. I had never stopped touching myself, and I stared at him instead of the phone, and I started to cum a third time, a personal record, as I saw his hand moving as a blur in the dark at his crotch, while his phone illuminated the sharp jawline of his face. It was the weirdest orgasm of my life as I came again while watching him jerk off, not even looking at titties or pussy or a girl. I watched his body freeze as I felt my third load pool at my belly button. I looked close and tried to see more details, but he closed his phone and it was dark again. I could loosely tell he was wiping himself up before he turned to his side on his bed. As I lay there catching my breath, I was compelled to text him once more

Me: Thanks that was so much fun

Jason: Gooner bros

Jason: ω==👊🏻===D💦😜