I Snapped (short story) (m/m)

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Stoutland395
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I Snapped (short story) (m/m)

Post by Stoutland395 »

This is it, the whole story! I hope you all enjoy it. I got the idea from a few pics (one in particular) on Tumblr/Pintrest, and decided it was enough for at least short story. I'm proud that I could write this on my own without the pressure of a contest driving me. As you all may have guessed, I can be long-winded, so writing a short story is very difficult for me. I'll also post this to my DeviantArt account later, maybe at the end of the week.

I snapped

It was all a mistake... a huge misunderstanding.

I just... snapped.

And, poor Ben…

None of this was his fault.

I wouldn’t exactly call Ben and myself best friends. Even “friend” seems to be too strong of a word. Acquaintance is probably the most accurate. Ben’s an acquaintance. We each have our own circles of actual friends that we hang out with, and there’s little interaction between the two. Still, we’ve been aware of each other’s existence since we sat on the same rainbow-colored floormat in kindergarten. Now in high school, a mutual awareness – by the simple fact that we know each other’s names – lets us sit together in the same math class. Our indifference comes without much awkwardness, at least for him from what I can gather.

I, on the other hand, became confused, recently.

Enough time has passed, in the last few years, for me to realize that I’m different from a lot of the other guys around me. Ben and the others marvel at the girls and their emerging beauty, something I’ve taken notice of but never cared for. Those who were the target of our constant teasing in middle school were now the objects of our – or rather their – affections. I, however, took more notice of how developed the guys were becoming.

Like Ben.

His shoulders became square and rounded, and his shoulder blades peaked through the back of his snug shirts. His waist slimmed down and tightened up with his flattening stomach. One day, he wore a flannel button-up with long sleeves rolled up just past his elbow. When he rested his head on his fist, bored and bleary-eyed from the teacher’s instructions, I managed to sneak a peek, several actually. I realized, then, while Ben seemed to admire a girl’s legs based on how he would sometimes stare at Breanna’s track pants and her exposed calves, I grew to admire a guy’s arms. And Ben’s were thin and toned. I loved to watch the muscles in his forearm flex as he wrote down notes in class. I glance whenever I can, trying to stay inconspicuous, but I began fantasizing about reaching out getting a feel of his forearm.

Poor Ben…

None of this was his fault.

He was just a victim of my own repression.

We’ve worked on projects in class before, all without incident. Since we barely knew each other, there wasn’t much for us to talk about outside the boundaries of the assignment. It was a convenient partnership, one that always churned out decent grades. At the end of the year, the teacher assigned the class a group project, building a 3D model of a polyhedron. As if it came naturally, Ben and I teamed up to build a dodecahedron with an explosion/fireball theme. That day, Ben wore a short sleeve t-shirt; sitting with his back to the window, and with the light coming through from the afternoon sun was the perfect amount to cast a soft sheen on Ben’s skin from the back of his arm down to his elbow. My hands went cold, and I had to stuff them in my hoodie pocket.

Ben was the one who suggested we finish our project at his house.

I hadn’t been to his house before. I hadn’t been to anyone’s house very often.

Some of my friends came to mine, but they never came to work on a math project, and I always had a good distraction. Bridges and I would play video games when he came over, and that kept my wandering eyes from staring at his legs, especially when he wore khaki shorts and black socks, or when he’d push up the sleeves of his hoodie to expose his arms. But the monotony of schoolwork failed to provide a good focus for me. I was nervous when I got to Ben’s house, and that couldn’t have helped my situation, either. My leg developed a twitch, and I kept tugging on my short curly hair which made my bangs puff up more than usual.

We had everything to finish our model. Cotton balls to decorate the borders to look like smoke; red, orange, and yellow duct tape that we cut into strips to look like fire; popsicle sticks to build the frame; and a bundle of soft cotton yarn to make a lace o we can hang our model from the classroom ceiling.

I played around with the tape, layering the colors in line to make fiery patterns, and unraveling the yarn to make the lace.

I couldn’t tell how long I was zoned out for before Ben nudged me, breaking me from my trance. We sat cross-legged on the floor in Ben’s bedroom upstairs. Ben wore a pair of light blue jeans, which I actually prefer since I didn’t care for his legs as much as I did Bridges'. Ben looked best in his jeans. Ben also wore a tight grey t-shirt, and the sleeves stopped a little after his shoulders, showing off his biceps well. They weren’t incredibly muscular, but they were toned enough to dimple and flex as he handled our model. I couldn’t help but glance back and forth, shifting my gaze at every opportunity. On his left wrist he wore a watch.

He’d never worn a watch before, not any time I’ve seen him. The frame and hands were gold plated, held on by a black leather band so it fit snug on his wrist. When Ben nudged me and broke my stare, he mentioned the watch. “My parents gave me this as a present.” I felt my face get hot, realizing he must’ve noticed me staring. Why else would he start telling about his watch? He held up his arm, bending his elbow, and I could feel my breathing start to stagger. I went deaf to what he was saying. He gave me an excuse to stare, and I had to take the opportunity. Between his watch and his shirt sleeve, his skinny pale arm was framed so well.

I had to feel it.

It was a gentle caress -- but I didn’t mean to do it. I just thought about it, but I did it… really.

Ben jerked back, and his face turned slightly pink. Those black pupils dilated, overtaking his blue irises, and his eyebrows bunched up in confusion. I imagine the look on my face must’ve been similar. My heart pounded furiously in my throat. My hand extended out, frozen in the air and shaking.

“W-What was that about?” Ben asked. His voice sounded harsh as he enunciated each syllable. “Dude, are you--?”

My mouth opened, but nothing wanted to come out. A hard lump formed in my throat, and my eyesight got blurry. My whole body began shaking. I turned over, curling my legs to my chest and placing my hands over my head. I tightened my stomach, curling my body inward as much as I could, hoping I could vanish into nothing. But at the same time... his skin was so soft, and the muscle beneath the skin was firm like a rock. It was everything I’d hoped for, everything I thought it would be, and I know I’d remember that feeling forever. Even now, wrecking myself with my regret, I can still feel that touch on my hand.

“I didn’t know you were—”

“—I’m sorry,” I whispered. I forced it out, and it was all I could say. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

“You know I’m not gay, right?”

I felt a hand pat my shoulder.

“Hey!” Ben shouted. He forcefully turned me around. “Dude, calm down.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry…” It was difficult forcing words out. The anxiety inside me felt like a bomb. We’d barely spoken but a few sentences to each other outside of school and homework, and the first thing I did was… I touched him, and now he knows, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and I can’t control my malfunctioning body.

“Please, don’t say anything. Please, please, please. I didn’t mean to…”

Ben’s eyes were still wide, but the rest of his face went blank. What position did I put him in? His lips curled into an uncertain smile, and it gave me some ease. Please just say it’s alright, I thought. That’s all I needed. It’s cool, it’s fine, it’s alright – just say that. Please just say it's alright!

“I-uh… I can finish this myself. You can go if you want. I-I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Please, don’t say anything about this,” I begged.

“You got most of the patterns finished. I can get them placed and finish the lace. I’ll bring it in tomorrow. You can go if you want.” Ben readjusted himself, sitting on his heels and craning over the project, keeping his gaze solidified to the model. I begged again, but he didn’t respond. He played with the yarn, unraveling a long strand from the bundle and snipping it although I had already cut several pieces. His arms flexed again as he fiddled with the string. “It’s practically finished, anyway. You don’t have to stay. I can finish this thing up.”

My heart hurt. My arms went cold, like they weren’t mine anymore.

He just needed to say it was all okay.

I snapped.

I could move again.

I crawled and stretched out my hands. Ben dropped everything, surprised and shocked as I clamped one hand over his mouth and another on the back of his head. He let out grunt when I squeezed my hands together, pressing my hand hard over his mouth. His cheeks puffed, trying to say something, but my palm formed a seal around his lips trapping the air in. He huffed through his nose, grunting more. “You can’t say anything,” I repeated.

Ben huffed and huffed. He grabbed my hands, trying to peel them away. Pure adrenaline was surging through me, driving me. “Please, you can’t say anything!” I said. As he tried to get up, still sitting on knees, I leaned over his back and moved my other hand to his mouth while bearing down on his shoulders to stop him from standing. He caught a glimpse of me from the corner of his eye.

I don’t know what I looked like, but I imagine I looked like a crazed madman. My teeth hurt from clenching my jaw so hard. The water in my eyes made it difficult to see. But the blurry read outline of the tape on the floor caught my attention. Desperate, I reached out in front, sending the two of us forward where I laid on top of Ben. As fast as my trembling fingers could pick at the edge, I peeled a strip of tape from the roll. Ben managed to get a few yelps out before I could pull up on his jaw and place the tape over his mouth. It wasn’t strong; I knew it couldn’t hold for long.

I sat myself upright on his back, straddling Ben’s sides as he flailed his arms across the floor. My heart practically flew out of my chest as I snatched each wrist and bent them behind his back. Feeling one of them for the first time wasn’t just a fleeting feeling. His skin was soft in my fingers, and I stared at his watch. Our struggle caused his sleeves to bunch up, exposing more of his upper arms, and his triceps flexed beneath his skin as he fought to break free of my grasp. I grabbed the loose string from the ball of yarn and wrapped it around his wrists, which I kept crossed. After nearly a dozen wraps, maybe – why did I snip a long piece? – I cinched the knot tight. The yarn was so thin that the knot seemed to disappear as I yanked on it.

“Oh, my god!” I exclaimed. The adrenaline began to work itself out, and my head became less cloudy as a result. I couldn’t believe what I did. Ben groaned, and I slid off his back but continued to keep a grip on his shoulders. Our project lay crumpled and broken beneath Ben as he got back onto his knees, but luckily nothing poked through his shirt or stomach. “I can’t believe I just did all that! Ben, I’m so sorry! Please, just don’t say anything. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know what to do. I leaned and hugged him, squeezing him to show him how sorry I was. I snapped. I snapped. Please, just let him understand that!

Ben’s chin dug into my shoulder as he contorted his face, working the tape from his mouth. “Ghut mff… Get off me!” he demanded.

Having worked it free, I quickly ripped the tape off. “Please, Ben—”

“—Help! Mom! Da—mph! Nmph!”

I clamped down on his mouth again, whispering “No! P-Please, I’m sorry!” He swung his head back and forth, but I followed his movements, keeping my hand pressed to his mouth. He wouldn’t listen to me. What could I do if he wouldn’t listen? It was just a mistake.

Poor Ben.

None of this was his fault.

Now I’m at a loss… and all I can do keep my hand pressed over Ben’s mouth. His parents are still downstairs, unaware of what's happening to their son on the floor above them. It's inevitable one of them will try to check on us, and what then? I have to keep him quiet as long as I can. But, even now – I don’t remember how long I’ve been doing this – worried as I am for Ben’s predicament, I’m still drawn to his arms. The way he reaches around his waist, I can’t help but admire how they look. And I can’t stop myself from stealing another feel every now and then.

I hope Ben can forgive me.

The End
Last edited by Stoutland395 4 years ago, edited 10 times in total.
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Z-Man
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Post by Z-Man »

This was a really good story! Well written. Great job!
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DeeperThanRed
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

This is a really unique story, with protagonist constantly going between attraction and guilt. I'd like it to have a happy ending, but it's impossible; that's why Ben has to be tied up and gagged to prolong the inevitable.

Thanks for sharing this with us. It's a great changeof pace reading deep tie-up stories.
25-year-old bondage enthusiast who likes cute guys, underwear, and bondage, preferably together.

You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
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cj2125
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Post by cj2125 »

You always have a nack for writting unique characters. I liked the protagonist's changes between guilt and attraction. Feel sorry for Ben but he shoyd have assured him from a start :mrgreen:
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Stoutland395
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Post by Stoutland395 »

[mention]Z-Man[/mention], [mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention], and @[mention]cj2125[/mention]:

Thank you for the comments and the feedback.
Critiques are always appreciated, both good and bad.
It's helpful for me as I write my next story to keep in mind what did and didn't work.
Scottstud94
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Post by Scottstud94 »

I enjoyed this very much.
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bondagefreak
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Post by bondagefreak »

[mention]Stoutland395[/mention]
Thanks for sharing your latest piece with us, my friend.
A pleasure, as usual.

Looking forward to more top quality stuff from you.
FOR A LIST OF ALL MY WRITTEN WORKS, CLICK HERE: BONDAGEFREAK'S STORIES

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Stoutland395
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Post by Stoutland395 »

It's been a month since posted this story. I have no intention of continuing it, but whilst combing through the remains of Tumblr, I found the picture that partially inspired me to write this story - granted this isn't how I imagine my characters would look, but that's ultimately up to the reader more. I still don't know who made it, but I want to show a little appreciation to whoever did.
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notreallyme06
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Post by notreallyme06 »

This is one of my favorite stories on here. Short and sweet, but so hot.
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Post by Deleted User 5033 »

Super well written. This showcases one of the things I most like about tugs. It's not THAT or HOW you tie someone (though that is awesome), it's more WHO and WHY that really makes it interesting. Great dynamic here.
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