The story so far:

When the earth is destroyed by a scientific experiment gone wrong, the inhabitants evacuate in hundreds of massive space ships, hoping that one of four planets on their route will provide a suitable new home. The ship that takes off from John Ducker Third Level University is an odd case – it’s barely half occupied, and having been located near an all-boys college it’s occupied by almost entirely college-age guys.

Devon Chasen is one such guy, and as time passes he tries to adjust to both this odd new lifestyle and the fact that he’s gay. This make things awkward between Devon and his best friends, Reid and Patrick, but it also makes Devon a lot of new friends. First there’s Charlie, and when Devon and Charlie become intimate life on the ship seems a little better. Then it seems even better when Charlie and Devon form a jerk-off club and find four other willing members.

Still, life on a space ship is tough, and Devon struggles to figure things out, although things are becoming more routine as time passes.

Space Ship Boys

Chapter 9 – The March of the Underwear Brigade

I’m an unhappy guy lately, there’s no question about that. And the reason is relatively simple – I’m stuck in a total dry spell. I mean sexually. And I have been for weeks.

I don’t think there’s any question why this would make me unhappy, it’s a pretty well established fact that a lack of sexual intercourse is high on the list of things that would make the average teenage guy cranky, the real question was how this happened.

After all, as a young gay guy coming into my own I’d done pretty much everything a young gay guy could to ensure that I’d have a sexual outlet. I’d become fuck buddies with one of my best friends, Charlie, and then Charlie and I had started a wank-off club with four other guys, all of whom I’d established an independent sexual relationship with. You’d think that after going to all that trouble, a guy would have a place to go for at least a quick handjob. And yet, although I’m pretty sure any of the five other guys would be more than accommodating if circumstances allowed it, somehow the universe had conspired against me and prevented circumstances from complying.

I was in a moping mood, in addition to being rather blue-balled, which was probably why I was hanging out alone in the makeshift bedroom Charlie and I’d set up in the unoccupied flat in Area 24. For about a half hour I’d paced back and forth, bored out of my skull, then I tried lying on a bunk and staring at one of Charlie’s unworn shirts. It was draped over a chair near the vents, and each time a gust of fresh air was pumped into the room the sleeve would sway in the breeze, making a pendulum-like motion. I watched in bored sullen silence each time a blast of cool air set the sleeve into motion. Yeah, it was a pretty boring afternoon.

The dry spell had started innocently enough with Sean and Dog going on graveyard shift for a month. As the ship neared 200 days in space, the permanent officers had rolled out a large conversion project that would better prepare the vessel for occupation for the next eighteen years. Sean and Dog had both begun working long graveyard shifts, something they didn’t complain about, but the long nights were clearly taking a toll. I only saw them briefly each evening when I served them dinner, and each night they looked a little more worn out. I’d tried to be helpful by making bread pudding one night, Dog’s favorite dessert. Under normal circumstances bread pudding would have almost assuredly earned me a tumble with the sexy duo, but in this case it only got me a wan smile.

Charlie and Mike, on the other hand, seemed to be bursting with energy, just none of it was aimed at me. Mike had joined Charlie on whatever project he had going on in C-Room, which involved a massive clothing manufacturing unit he’d (mostly) assembled there, as well as schematics and plans posted haphazardly all over the walls. They spent all their free time in there working, and seemed to have little patience for my attempts to distract them. Unfortunately, I’d developed a grudge against the project from the very beginning, and often made sarcastic remarks about it. Occasionally I’d hang out in there while they worked. I wasn’t uninvited per se, but their demeanor changed whenever I was around and I felt a little unwelcome. Therefore I stayed away mostly, leaving Mike and Charlie to their endless tinkering.

This left Zane, who, being one of the hornier guys on the ship, could usually be relied upon for some casual boy fun. I hadn’t loved the idea of coming onto Zane – the guy usually slipped into a slightly patronizing teacher/student role whenever we talked about sex, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and after three weeks with no wank club and no cuddling and virtually no human contact of any kind, I went looking for my mischievous slacker friend.

In this case, I’d found Zane in a rare moment of not slacking. He’d been in one of the wet farms, busy at the room master control console poring over several open data windows. I love the atmosphere of the wet farms, which are essentially large aquatic tanks used to house marine life. This particular farm was only about a quarter the size of the whale tank I usually hung out in, but like all the wet farm, there was a cool dampness that hung in the air and a slight odor of fish that reminded me of San Diego.

“Hey,” I greeted Zane, who had his back turned to the door.

Zane looked over his shoulder and greeted me in return, although not as warmly as usual. I’d chatted with him for a while; he was trying to get this tank back within acceptable parameters. Zane continued working at the console, and I talked.

To accomplish my goal, I attempted to deploy my maximum cuteness. First I came up alongside the muscular Zane and rested my chin on his shoulder, feigning interest in the data scrolling along the console’s main screen. I played with his back a little, first pretending to pick a bit of dirt off Zane’s t-shirt, then running my fingernails horizontally along Zane’s powerful back muscles. It always turned me on the way his lats felt taut through the fabric of his shirt.

If Zane got the hint that I was in a touchy-feely mood he sure didn’t show it, not really responding to me until he finally shrugged his shoulders in a single fluid motion that effectively pushed my hand off him. I considered that this might be a hint that Zane wasn’t in the mood for fooling around, but I found that hard to believe, considering that the guy was always, always, always in the mood to fool around.

I decided to up the ante, stepping back from the working Zane and quietly removing my shoes, socks and shirt. Pushing my jeans to the floor, I reveled in the feel of the damp air against my skin. I really love being nude in the wet farms, it wasn’t quite the same as a day at the beach, but you take what you can get on a spaceship. I adjusted my crotch, noticing that I was semi-hard already. Yeah, I was pretty horny these days.

“Wanna go for a swim?” I asked in my best coy voice.

Zane looked over his shoulder, his face hard to interpret as he took in my nearly nudeness. “I wouldn’t advise it, Dev, there are tiger sharks in this tank, among other things.” He went back to his work.

Being somewhat new to the art of seduction, I didn’t quite recognize this as a lost cause. I’d tried light touch and that had failed. Coy nudity had also failed. So I decided to try a more direct approach. Coming up from behind, I’d slipped my hands up Zane’s shirt and began rubbing his furry pectorals, making sure to pinch a little at his nipples. This should send the appropriate message.

“Well, if they don’t get to eat me, maybe you could,” I stated in a husky mumble.

It was one of those lines that didn’t work all that well in my head, but I decided to test it out in the open air, quickly realizing it sounded about ten times worse there. It had about the effect one would expect, Zane took my hands out from under his shirt and turned around, his attention now fully on me, his half smile a little crooked and smug.

“Ok, Dev, here’s the deal,” he’d said, very matter-of-factly, “First of all, that was a terrible line. I mean really. Secondly, I’m busy. If I can’t figure out why the chem balance keeps getting out of whack in this tank we may lose the whole thing, and I’m pretty sure that’ll mean extinction for one or two of the now-very-rare species we have in here.”

I put on my best crestfallen face, complete with my trademark puppy dog eyes, but I could tell right away it wasn’t going to work. Zane continued, “I told you to go make some new ‘friends’. If you’re that hard up I can give you a quick handjob, but then I expect you to go be a good little boy and leave me alone.”

Being treated like a kid instantly pissed me off, something Zane was quite good at, and the offer of the handjob added to the insult.

Without saying anything, I coldly walked over to my discarded pile of clothes and pulled on my jeans. Not bothering to get further dressed, I bundled my items in my arms and huffed off, thinking that maybe a show of annoyance would get me what I wanted. Usually when Zane made me this angry it would end in an apology and sex, or at least it had before. In this case, even the last-ditch effort of fit-throwing failed, and Zane just watched then went back to his work. I’d left upset, still horny, and a slight throbbing in my temple suggesting that a monster headache was coming on.

That was three weeks ago, and since then things hadn’t improved. The wank club hadn’t met at all, and I was beginning to slip from overly-horny to depressed. Sitting in the bedroom angrily staring at the twirling shirt sleeve, I considered that the logical part of my brain knew that everyone was just overworked and unavailable, but another part of my brain, the irrational emotional side, was starting to feel a little weird towards the guys. I was starting to feel like they might not like me anymore or something. Like maybe all the great friendships I’d fostered with them had started to go awry somehow. It was silly, I suppose, but it started to become something of an obsession, figuring out why the whole group didn’t seem interested in Devon anymore.

This was exacerbated by the stuff with Reid. He’d been my best friend until I’d decided I was gay, and other than curt conversations in the hall we still avoided each other mostly. Looking at a calendar one afternoon I realized that it was more than three months since the 100 day party, which was when we’d stopped talking to one another. We’d taken off in March, and had been best friends for three months. Then we’d stopped, and now spent more than three months not talking to one another. When I thought about this, that we’d now been enemies (or whatever) longer than friends on the ship, I’d excused myself from work saying I felt ill and went up to our unoccupied flat to cry for a little while.

So it was a stressful time for me. I was angry and depressed a lot, but also sad and lonely. Whenever I got stressed about my friendships I’d go for a long walk through the halls, or sometimes I’d head down to Bottomside and get in on a game of football or 6-wall. I’d even started throwing in a few extra weight lifting sessions per week to burn off some of my stress and anxiety, and although I spent a fair number of afternoons regretting the extra workouts, it helped.

But today I don’t feel like doing anything, and that’s why I’m moping moodily about the empty dorm room all afternoon.


And so, like many teenage boys who are preoccupied with sex but not getting any, I tried to find a preoccupation to preoccupy the sex preoccupation. Ugh, I think being horny all the time is starting to fry my brain. To help with that, I’d started helping Conner out after I got off shift each afternoon. And thus, I found myself a little dizzy, hanging from the ceiling in one of the farm areas.

Strictly speaking, we weren’t actually hanging from the ceiling. Most of the farm areas, and in fact most of the larger rooms on the ship, were designed so that both planes at the ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ of the room were designated as gravitational down. This maximized efficiency in the farms since you doubled the square footage of the room, and also because it allowed a network of UV lights to run through the center of the room and provide ‘sunshine’ to plants both above and below.

Since the ship was well under capacity, we hadn’t needed to utilize all the farming beds immediately to provide food for the residents, but now that we were well under way we’re under orders to get everything up and running. The hydroponic beds in half of FA117 were malfunctioning and Conner had been assigned to fix them, and I’d volunteered to help. So we’d climbed the gravitational null ladder you found in the multi-plane rooms, touched the ‘ceiling’ so that we repolarized to that gravitational plane, and tumbled down to the ceiling, which was now a floor to us. It always took me a bit to get used to a gravity shift, and sometimes I felt like I wanted to throw up. After all, I was standing on what had been the ceiling just a second ago, and I was now staring ‘up’ at the fruits and vegetables in the beds that were now above us. Ugh, space travel - who needs it?

Turned out, the problem was relatively simple. The programming was off in each bed, preventing it from taking commands from the room’s control computer. This required a simple fix, just an adjustment to each bed, which had seemed easy in concept before we realized that the repairs necessitated crawling under each bed and getting into a panel that was really hard to open. And so we undertook the task, which involved a lot of swearing, smashed fingers, and general annoyance. An hour later, we’d managed to take care of only a third of the beds.

“Ugh,” Conner panted, slamming the panel on bed thirteen back into place. “I’m beat, let’s take a break.”

I nod my head silently in agreement. I’m also bushed. Like all the farm areas, it’s warm and humid in here. Messing with the panels doesn’t take massive physical exertion, but it’s still making me sticky and gross.

Conner and I had continued to become closer; we were at that stage of friendship where we could be around each other silently without it being awkward. We stayed under the shade of bed thirteen so that we’d be out of the ‘sunlight’, which was about as hot on the skin as real sunlight. I decided to make this a real break and lay down against the cool floor. It was made of some sort of plastic that had a slight give to it, and I liked the way my butt pressed into it. I was in the middle of a rather long internal monologue about my ass when the silence of the room was broken from below.

“I don’t care, I don’t think it’s a good idea – if Stranton finds out,” a male voice hissed.

“Stranton’s not gonna find out,” came the reply. “Besides, what’s he going to do – throw us back in the brig? It’s not against the rules for guys to hang out. Anyone asks, we’re just all getting together for a little football on a Thursday night. No big.”

I recognized the first voice, it was Brian Fervson, who had been in training with me and Zane for the first couple months of the trip. There was a sense of urgency to his speech; this and the fact that I didn’t like him very much made me want to listen in. Next to me, Conner flinched but remained silent, probably also wanting to listen since they were discussing Eden, Conner’s flatmate and the current Mayor of the civilian population.

“I don’t know. Yeah, I guess,” Brian replied. “Still, the whole idea. I mean, getting Stranton fired? Messing with an election? Could get serious. And for what? Getting out of shit detail?”

“It’s more than shit detail. Eden Stranton struts around like he owns this place, and was quite happy to stick us with the worst jobs on this fucking ship. Steven says we can change that, we just need to work together.”

“Yeah, still,” Brian replied. His resolution seemed to come quickly, although he still sounded uncertain. “Ok, I’ll be there. But this better not cause any more trouble. I can’t deal with another six weeks of fungus duty.”

The voices trailed off as the pair exited the room out the other side. Conner and I had remained hidden from view, hiding under a table on what would seem like the ceiling to Brian and his friend. Even if we hadn’t been under cover they might not have seen us, but it seemed like a good thing they hadn’t because it didn’t seemed like the kind of conversation they’d want someone listening in on.

I waited a minute or so before speaking, just in case they came back. “What do you think that was all about?” I asked Conner.

“I don’t know, but it sounds like trouble. I didn’t know the other guy, but one was Sandor Lewis, one of the dickwads that hangs out with Steven Caine.”

“Yeah, and the other was Brian Fervson, another Caine lackey.” I replied.

Conner remained silent for a full minute, a look of deep concentration on his face. Finally he speaks, “Way I figure it, whatever they’re up to has something to do with Eden, and it’s something they don’t want him to know about. So I’m thinking we should go tell him.”


Conner scoots out from under the table, stretching as he stands. I follow and start for bed fourteen, but he heads in the opposite direction towards the gravity ladder.

“Oh,” I say in a surprised mumble, “You meant go tell him right now.”

“Yeah, whatever those two are up to, Eden should know as soon as possible.” And with that we headed to topside, leaving the repairs on beds fourteen to thirty for another day.

The reason all of this seemed so important was because Steven Caine was something of an antagonistic presence on the ship. It had started almost immediately after takeoff – he’d proclaimed that undesirable jobs should go to younger passengers, and that those who’d been upper classmen at the college didn’t need to work as much. It was a twat idea, to be certain, and when things had escalated it had gotten a lot of Steven’s group tossed in the brig for a while.

As it turned out, though, his ideas of not distributing crappy jobs on a per capita basis were pretty popular. Eden Stranton had run for mayor on the platform that these jobs, what we called ‘shit detail’ could be handed out in larger portions as punishment for various civil violation. In other words, Steven’s little rebellion to get out of shit detail had landed him and his friend a whole lot more shit detail. Like most guys, I’d spent some time scraping up fungus, working the farms, and tending to the sewage facilities, and I didn’t think it was at all unfair that part of the probationary period for anyone convicted of a crime on the ship was taking on a little more of these responsibilities.

As it turned out, Eden wasn’t at all surprised by our big news. We’d looked for him in Conner’s flat, and when we didn’t find him there we’d gone up to his office in topside. He’d invited us in warmly, and been quite interested as Conner explained what we’d overheard. For the most part, I let Conner do the talking, and tried not to seem too gaga around Eden, whose dark hair, perfect skin and beautiful blue eyes qualified him as possibly the most beautiful man on earth. Or, um, I guess the most beautiful man in space, to be more accurate.

After Conner finished his story Eden sat silent for only a moment before speaking. “Well, I appreciate you guys coming to me with this right away. We’ve known Steve has been up to something, and this sounds like part of it.”

“So he’s still sore, and still a dick wad,” I interject. Eden smiles at my comment, his overly white teeth slightly visible.

“Yeah,” Eden replies, “and that’s why we’re taking steps that, frankly, I didn’t want to have to take.”

“Oh?” Conner asks, arching an eyebrow.

Eden signs deeply. “Yeah. The crew have authorized me to form a security force. I didn’t really want to, but last time Steve got on his soapbox we almost had a riot, and that was when twenty guys were listening to him. Now he has a hundred who like his ideas, so I guess it makes sense, just in case. That’s what all that is for,” Eden says, pointing to a pile of boxes along the far wall. Each has a logo emblazoned on the side, which I take to be the insignia of the new security force.

It made sense to me. Honestly, it was about time we had some sort of police on this ship. My best produce was continually disappearing. A couple of weeks back ‘margherita pizza night’ became ‘hot flatbread night’.

“Yeah,” Eden continued, “so we’ll be working on that in the near future. I’ve actually sent out invitations to a couple of guys I might want on the force, and we’ll see how that works out. But thanks again for bringing this to me. If you hear anything else, please let me know.” Eden stands to shake our hands as we go, which seems odd since he and Conner are flatmates, and even a little odder when the smile I return his with comes out as all goofy and daydreamy. Whoops.


Finally, the last stinking week of October, things started to return to normal. Well, normal for us.

The shifts reverted to their usual daytime schedule, and Charlie and Mike sent out a message on Tuesday asking if everyone could meet in our unofficial flat in the early afternoon that Friday so they could show us something before our ‘poker game’. At first I sighed, sure everyone would respond that they couldn’t make it, but to my surprise Zane quickly responded yes, then Sean and Dog did too. I probably don’t have to mention that the return of our poker night (aka, group wank-off sessions) meant that I was instantly and irrevocably boned for hours after the email came through, and that I emphatically replied ‘yes’ as well.

So it was that I counted the hours to Friday. Once the day arrived I found myself free all day because of some construction work being done in my kitchen. I was sitting at the computer console at the rear of my bedroom, lazily considering whether I should jerk off now to relieve my ever-present erection, or wait until later that night. This all-important debate was interrupted when one of my other roommates, Nick Laskaway, came in and returned me to reality.

“Hey Devon – oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you there,” he says, obviously noticing that I jumped about three inches when he started talking. I need to cut down the caffeine.

“Yeah, hey, no problem,” I reply.

Nick starts messing around in his trunk, looking for a change of clothes I presume. “Hey, Devon, uh, I was wondering, can I ask you something?”

I swivel my chair around to acknowledge Nick. As always, Nick is about as cute as they come, with large, hazel eyes that always seem soft, and a little pleading somehow. I was also always drawn to his nose. Usually that wasn’t a feature I was attracted to on other guys, but Nick’s was rounded and cute. I was thinking about the consequences if I reached out and playfully pinched Nick’s nose when I realized I’d turned around like ten seconds ago and we were just awkwardly staring at each other. “Uh, yeah?” I ask hesitantly, not exactly remembering what the question was.

“I, uh, the thing is, I, uh…” As Nick uncharacteristically stumbled on his words he subconsciously crossed his arms and started playing with his chest with one hand. I notice a lot of guys do that, and I wonder if they knew how hot it is. He stands up straighter, as if finally finding the resolve to finish his ambling sentence. “I was wondering, I heard Charlie talking about your poker game tonight, and I was wondering if maybe I could tag along.”

Dang. Now here was a dilemma. This thing was, our weekly (well, lately not-so-weekly) poker game was just a cover for our jerk off club to meet. I’d be more than happy for Nick, who was about the cutest boy in the world, to tag along for that, but somehow if you ask a guy over for a game of cards and when he gets there everyone whips it out, well, that might not go over so well. So I figured I needed to politely tell him no, making sure not to come off as an asshole, since he was, after all, a pretty nice guy, and probably just looking for something to do on a Friday night.

“Jeez,” I start, becoming the one with the subconscious body reactions as I put my hand behind my head and start twirling my hair, “the thing is, Nick, it’s kind of a full game, you know, and I don’t know if the other guys would be, uh, so up for the idea of me bringing along someone, uh, new. You know, all the slots are taken and all that.” I wasn’t sure that was totally true, but it sounded reasonable. I mean, how many people can sit at a poker table at the same time? I had no idea.

“Oh,” Nick replies, looking a little crestfallen. I felt a pang of remorse at lying to the guy.

“Yeah, sorry dude,” I say earnestly.

“Well, uh, if I can’t play cards, do you think I could, uh, just come by for the jerking off part?”

While I let what he’d just said register, an awkward silence hung in the air. Nick was just standing there with his big puppy dog eyes looking straight at me with an expression that was impossible to read, and I meanwhile totally blanked. It felt like minutes passed, although it was probably only seconds. My mouth hung open awkwardly, and Nick flushed a bright red.

“I…uh,” I stammered stupidly. Now I was the one that couldn’t finish a sentence without stuttering. I could feel myself turning about thirty-seven shades of red to match Nick. I have no idea how he knew what we got up to on Fridays, but he certainly caught me off guard.

Nick decided to save me. “No man, it’s totally cool. I mean, I just kind of wanted to, you know, join in.” The last part came out a little too quietly, as if he thought he could later revoke the request if it was uttered in barely a whisper.

“How do you?…I mean, yeah that’s what we do, but how did you know?”

Nick flashes a smile, one that makes me melt a little. “C’mon Devon, I live with you. It’s not that hard to figure out what you and Charlie get up to, and I’d guess Sean and Dog too by the way they meet you here on Fridays before heading to wherever it is you go. It’s kind of embarrassing to ask, but I’ve been wanting to see if you guys would let me come for a while, and then I got today off because of the shift changes and Jacob isn’t around and I though…but if it’s not ok…” he trails off.

And what can you say to that? It was an outright request to join the group, and Nick certainly fit the profile. Well, other than the fact I’d never suspected him of being attracted to other guys. But what did I know? Maybe he wasn’t attracted to other guys, just looking for a fun way to get his rocks off on a Friday night. I thought about maybe telling him I’d get back to him after I asked the others, but it was a weird moment and I didn’t want to make it weirder. I mean, we’d never discussed new members either way. I guess if he hadn’t already known every single member I might have asked them in advance to protect their privacy, but seeing as how he seemed to have some crafty military intelligence about the whole thing I didn’t see much harm in letting him tag along.

“Ok, sure,” I replied, still feeling a little weird about the whole conversation.

“Cool!” he smiles wide, his big hazel eyes shining slightly green in the light. I couldn’t help but smile back, wondering what it was that had him so happy and excited, the camaraderie or the prospect of sex? Probably both, but if I knew teenage boys, more of the latter.

‘Poker night’ was starting early tonight, but we still had a couple of hours to blow. I figured I’d just hang in the room messing on my console for a while. Being a Friday, guys weren’t really in the flat much, mostly they were just coming in from work, changing, and leaving for some event or another. It was pretty quiet, actually. I plugged away on the comp for a while, Nick reading a book on his bunk, before getting bored and heading out into the living area to see if anyone else was around. Nick followed me silently.

We bump into Chris and Peter in the hall, both were carrying large boxes under their arms. I recognized the logo on the packages from my meeting with Eden. “Hey guys, what’s up?” I ask.

Chris looks at me a little tensely, which isn’t a huge concern since he always looks a little tense and cranky, but he doesn’t say anything. Peter shift his weight from one foot to the other, looking at me, then Chris, then back at me before answering. “Oh, hey guys. We’re just, uh, working on something tonight.”

It was obvious that they didn’t really want to talk, and normally I’d just let them go. But for once in my life I was ‘in the know’, and I felt like showing off a bit. “Yeah? You mean Eden’s new security force? He told me he wanted you guys on it, congrats.”

He hadn’t really mentioned Chris and Peter by name, but I figured the packages were the new stuff I’d seen up in Eden’s office, and Chris and Peter were obvious choices – very disciplined and military. These two had always patronized me a bit, treating me well but somewhat as if I was an annoying little kid. Ok, so maybe I was, but I experienced a certain amount of glee when both Chris and Peter displayed sheer shock at my mentioning the security force. Peter actually looked a little crestfallen, as if I’d stolen the fraternity secret handshake or something.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Chris replied. We chatted a bit and they told me they were actually off to their first meeting. Nick and I wished them luck as they left, still looking a little disappointed that their big secret wasn’t quite as covert as they might have thought.

I went into the restroom and ran into Beck, who was shaving in front of one of the large mirrors. Oddly, he was completely nude. Well, that in itself wasn’t odd – guys were nude in here all the time. But Beck was usually clothed, and thinking back I don’t recall that I’d ever seen him totally naked since coming to live here. I tried not to stare, but it was kind of hard. For one thing, he’s super pale, which is an odd contrast with his black hair. For another, he had a large tattoo above his right butt cheek. It matched the one on his left wrist.

“Hey, nice ink,” I commented.

He looked at me through the mirror and smiled. “Thanks. Don’t get to show it off that often.”

I washed up, thinking about my friend, the ‘phantom wanker’. At least that’s what I called him. Several times now I’d run into my mystery guy – first him spying on me and Charlie, then him jerking me off where I couldn’t see his face. He also had a tattoo, a single black rose just below his hip, and seeing Charlie’s tats made me think of him. That gave me a little surge of testosterone – I’d left him a note telling him the wank club was back on, and I wondered if he’d be around tonight.

Turning to leave, I was startled by Nick, who was standing silently in the doorway. I hadn’t realized he’d followed me in here. The guy moves like a cat. He follows me back to our room, which upon entering I turn to him and ask tersely, “Ok, dude, what’s the deal? Are you going to follow me around all afternoon?”

He looks crestfallen again. “No, I mean, sorry. I just, uh, didn’t want you to ditch me.”

“Dude, don’t worry, I won’t ditch you,” I assure him.

Despite my assurances, Nick hangs around me the rest of the afternoon until it’s time to head up to the unoccupied flat. When it is time to leave, he oddly throws on a bunch more clothes, and instead of following my lead with a t-shirt and jeans, opts for both a t-shirt and sweatshirt, boxers, and a pair of oversized sweatpants. For a guy that seems to want to get naked with us he sure puts on a lot of clothes. Maybe he thinks we play strip poker and wants an advantage?

When we arrive, the flat is completely deserted. There’s no one to be found in the poker room, nor Charlie’s makeshift bedroom, nor Charlie’s ‘workshop’ in bedroom C, which is a lot cleaner now that his clothing unit is completely assembled and all the parts and schematics are put away, although the unit still takes up a good third of the floor space.

“What the heck is that?” Nick asks.

“Uh, something Charlie is working on. It makes clothes. Not quite sure what he’s up to with it, but I think it’s why he wanted everyone to come early today. Which makes me wonder why no one is here.”

I show Nick around and we settle in the poker room, which smells a little musty since no one had been in here for a couple of weeks. The guys run twenty minutes late, then forty, and Nick and I eventually decide to pass the time by chatting about the wank club and how things got started. I don’t tell him ALL the details, but enough so that he gets a little fidgety in his seat, and before you know it a sizable telltale lump has formed in his lap.

Having wound him up, I take the opportunity to broach the subject of sex with him. “You know, Nick, I have to ask, I never really pegged you as someone who would be interested in, uh, our club.”

He blushes deeply and gives me a shy smile that makes me melt a little. “Yeah, I don’t know. I mean, I kind of had a friend in grade school I’d fool around with sometimes – who didn’t? And then we ended up on this space ship, and it’s been lonely all the time, and a guy can only take so much, you know…” He trails off, making the fist-pump hand motion that is the universal sign for a teenage boy’s favorite past time.

“Um, yeah, I hear ya,” I reply. I’m about to ask if maybe he’ll consider putting on a little pregame show for me – after all, I’ve always been a little curious about his sizable bulge. Sadly, I’m cut off by the sounds of several rowdy guys entering the flat and making their way back to the bedroom.

Charlie and Mike come in, laughing and carrying some cardboard boxes, and they’re followed by the whole gang – Sean, Dog and Zane. Everyone seems to be in a rather high mood – I almost make a sarcastic remark about how great it is they didn’t invite me to walk up here with them, but I bite my tongue. Everyone gets about two feet in the room before noticing Nick, at which point Mike stops telling whatever anecdote has them all so amused and silence descends on the group.

“Hey, guys,” I intercede, “Nick asked if he could join us tonight. I, uh, hope no one minds.” Hmm, that wasn’t really helpful. I was trying to find a way to say ‘the guy knows we fuck around and wants in’, but somehow I totally fail in that attempt, as evidenced by the awkward stares the other five guys give us. Nick seems to immediately pick up on the necessity to broach the sex subject and opts for a more aggressive tactic.

“Yeah,” he says a little too emphatically, spreading his legs wide and once again conducting the masturbation hand signal, “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to ‘playing poker’.”

This somehow breaks the ice, revealing to everyone that he’s in on our secret and cool with it. As usual, the ever-randy Zane is the first to fully appreciate the benefits of having a new guy in the club. “Sweet,” he proclaims, crossing the room and taking a seat on the bed next to Nick, placing a hand on the new boy’s thigh, resulting in the immediate return of Nick’s blush, “always room for one more.”

And that was about as simple as it was to add Nick to the group. Personally, I would have liked to proceed right to the removing of clothes, but Charlie and Mike, having set down their boxes, decide to tell us about their project before hormones take over.

“Ok,” Charlie begins, “so you guys have probably noticed that Mike and I have been playing with one of the clothes manufacturing units over in the other bedroom.”

Zane snorts sarcastically. “How could we not notice? You’ve been tinkering for weeks.”

“Is that what they call it?” Sean asks with a mischievous grin. Charlie glances at Mike and blushes a little. I hadn’t considered it before, but now I had to wonder what Charlie and Mike were getting up to together late at night that didn’t have to do with their project. I didn’t know whether to be jealous, angry, curious or horny. Probably all of them at the same time – I am a teenager, after all.

“Anywayyyyyy,” Charlie continues, drawing out the last syllable until the room has quieted and all attention is on him, “you all know how HORRIBLE the clothes are that these things make.”

“I tried a t-shirt and had a rash for three days,” Dog chimes in.

“Dude, are you sure that rash was from the clothes? I mean, you do get up to quite a lot…” Zane retorts. It’s hard to maintain the attention of seven teenagers.

Charlie tries. “Again, anyway. So the thing is, that’s only the default. They’re actually capable of creating clothes of almost any fabric and design imaginable. The default settings are just there for an emergency – durable, but scratchy and utilitarian stuff. The machines are made to be customized, so that’s what Mike and I have been working on.”

“You’ve been making customized scratchy and utilitararianium…whatever it was you said…clothes?” I ask, earnestly stumbling on the word but making a joke out of it.

Charlie arches an eyebrow at me sardonically, as if my question was quite stupid. “No, Devon, the whole point of customizing the machine is so that you can produce clothes that aren’t scratchy and utilitarian. So that one can make clothes that are comfortable and cool, and so that we all have something to wear for the next eighteen years other than the stuff we brought with us.”

“No joke,” Mike says, “I only brought three shirts.”

“Me too,” Sean adds, “Well, but I mean I only brought a couple pairs of underwear, which is why I go commando a lot.”

Zane steps up behind Sean and slaps his ass playfully. “Sexy,” he whispers, but loud enough that everyone can hear. Sean flushes a little.

Charlie takes the opportunity to take back control of the room. “And that’s where I started. Underwear. You guys know that I was, well, something of a clothes horse back on Earth.”

It was true, I think Charlie had no fewer than four hundred t-shirts back at the college, and even on the ship he seemed to have an endless wardrobe.

“I’ve always been interested in clothes. You know, the design and all. It struck me a while back that someone was going to have to start making new clothes on this ship, or else we’d all be stuck with the crap default stuff eventually. I’ve always been interested in clothes, so I figured it might as well be, well, me.”

Charlie was right, I thought. The clothes I brought with me were enough to last a while, but I’d already ruined two t-shirts when I’d ripped them working in the farms. And my best pair of jeans had an ugly stain on them where some oil had sprayed me one day. I hadn’t resorted to the ship clothes yet, but I knew some guys who had, and no one had nice things to say about it.

Charlie walks across the room and picks up one of the cartons he’d brought in. Placing it on a desk, he pulls back the flaps to reveal a jumbled assortment of brightly colored fabric inside.

“I started with undies,” he explains, “Mostly because I thought they’d be the easiest thing to make. I think in the end they were the hardest, but eventually I got it down. I thought I might open a little shop in the concourse. You know, in my spare time.”

“Ohh, cool,” Zane exclaims, reaching his hand down into the box. Charlie playfully slaps Zane’s hand away and Zane puts on a really corny hurt expression.

“These are presents. Well, I guess they are,” Charlie explains. “To get into the whole design thing I decided to make stuff for each of you. You know, taking into consideration taste and all.”

“And assets.” Zane smiles devilishly, grabbing his crotch.

“Yes, yes,” Mike replies sarcastically, “Zane and his oh-so-amazing travelling one-man-dick show.”

Mike, being the smallest and quietest of the group had recently taken to instigating things with Zane, the largest and noisiest. It was funny to see the teen pick on the older boy, but he held his own. Mostly.

Zane leaps across the room and takes Mike in a bear hug. “You are so mouthy, Albers. You know that?” And with that, the older boy begins relentless tickling Mike. Unfortunately for Mike, all the time spent in the club has given Zane very specific knowledge about Mike’s most ticklish spots. Mike instantly begins howling with laughter and tries to drop to his knees, but Zane holds him tights.

“So anyway,” Charlie says, “I’ll send you each your pair to try on tomorrow. You can let me know if you like them.”

Zane instantly stops tickling Mike, but doesn’t let him go, so that the younger boy is comically hanging from Zane’s arms like some odd species of monkey, huffing and trying to catch his breath.

“Wait, wait,” Zane says, “We should get to try them now.”

“Yeah, try them now,” Mike agrees, still winded from the tickling. His shirt has ridden up his chest, revealing Mike’s abs, which are flexing in and out as the boy tries to catch his breath. Zane eyes the bare skin, clearly weighing the benefits of another bout of tickling against annoying Charlie with further goofing around.

Charlie looks to the box and then dubiously at us, as if indecisive about whether or not he should let his prized creations be bestowed on the rowdy group. And then it strikes me – he’s also probably a little self-conscious. I mean, the guy spent A LOT of time working on this, it must be important to him. I try to help out.

“I bet they’re going to be awesome,” I say, “we should try them on now. Are they all the same?”

Charlie responds, “Uh, no, I created a style for each of you. And then a bunch of others. So I think I actually have something I think would be perfect for you, Nick.”

“Cool. Thanks.” The newcomer responds.

Zane lets go of Mike suddenly and leaps back across the room to the box. Mike collapses, laughing at the rough treatment he’s received by Zane, which may be a large part of why he constantly chooses to antagonize the older and wilier boy.

“Ok, let’s see. Let’s see. Let’s see!” Zane bounces around. He’s prone to fits of hyperactivity. Charlie arches an eyebrow at me and I can’t help but laugh.

“Ok, geez,” Charlie replies, “but no more sugar for you. Ok, let’s see. Here, here’s a good one. These are for Sean.” He reaches into the box and pulls out a folded pair of red briefs.

Charlie looks up at Sean, who takes on the awkward expression teens sometimes display when given a gift. He seems a little unsure what to say, so Dog interjects for him, crossing the room and taking the briefs from Charlie. “Hey, these look cool.” Dog walks back over to Sean and hands him the underwear.

Charlie dips his hand back into the box. “And these are for…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Zane interrupts, for about the fiftieth time that afternoon, “We need to see ‘em. That’s the whole point of this, right? So go ahead, put them on.”

“What, here? Now?” Sean asks dubiously.

“Yeah, doofus, now. And here. It isn’t like you have anything we haven’t all seen before.” Zane laughs.

“To be fair, I haven’t,” Nick interjects. Everyone looks up at him and he immediately flushes. Nick doesn’t have quite the rapport that the others enjoy, and innuendo from him seems naughtier somehow.

Zane chuckles and walks over to Nick, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and massaging the teen slightly. With the other hand he offers his customary ass-slap. “Don’t worry, my friend. You will. So go ahead, try ‘em.”

Sean shrugs, then shucks off his shoes and socks, and pulls his t-shirt off over his head. And then, what we assume is for modesty’s sake, Sean turns around before unbuttoning his pants and slipping them off. When he does, we all see he wasn’t kidding about going commando, his tan butt making a brief appearance.

Sean slips the briefs up over his legs and into place with a few minor adjustments. They’re red, and ride somewhat low, with a bright white waistband. Sean turns around and I can immediately see that Charlie got the fit perfect.

“Wow, those are cool,” Dog says, eyeing Sean.

“Thanks,” Charlie beams, flashing an earnest smile. I’m sure the compliment helps, and particularly one that comes from Sean’s lover, the person most apt to care about what his undies look like.

Sean beams too, turning slightly to model his new clothes. Rather than just a plain pair of briefs, Charlie has designed something stylish and cool. They’re mainly red, although there are orange strips of fabric running along the top where the underwear sits high on the thighs, and there is a red and orange stripe running along the bright white waistband. It makes the underwear look ultramodern somehow, like something a race car driver should wear. And I have to say, Charlie has some talent for tailoring – the bright red fabric snugs Sean’s ass and dick perfectly, giving him alluring curves all over the place. The color, the cut, everything is practically perfect for the boy’s tan, lithe body.

“Yeah, man,” I add, “those are freaking just right. Way to go.”

Charlie is more noticeably more relaxed, and clearly a little happy we haven’t lampooned his first creation. He reaches into the box and pulls out a second pair. They’re bright blue, and I immediately kind of hope they’re for me. I like blue.

However, Charlie hands them over to Dog. “Thanks,” he says, taking the underwear from Charlie. Without any discussion, Dog strips off to try on his new clothes. Unlike Sean, he’s wearing underwear already, but like his boyfriend he turns around to remove them and slip on the new pair.

Charlie’s second design is a little more whimsical than the first, but since Dog is much less serious than Sean this seems appropriate. The briefs also fit perfectly, and are baby blue with bright white waistband and piping material. What makes them a little less serious is the red image of a diver and shark swimming towards one another on either side of the crotch, as well as a large red trident on the rear with the phrase ‘wave breaker’ above it.

“Wow, these are super-comfy,” Dog says, wagging his ass a little, sending the trident seductively to and fro.

“I like the shark,” Sean says, poking at the image of the fish on Dog’s shorts.

“I’m sure you do,” Zane huffs, smiling. The room silently agrees that the cartoon image, which allows unapologetic stares at Dog’s crotch, is a nice feature.

“Ok,” Charlie’s voice diverts our attention to the other side of the room, “So these obviously weren’t made especially for Nick, but I think they should be just about right.”

He tosses Nick a folded piece of olive and tan clothing, which comes undone in midair. Nick grabs the underwear and opens it fully to inspect it. These are notably larger than the tiny low-rise briefs he’s made for Sean and Dog, what you’d call a boxer-brief. And they’re not just olive and tan, they’re done up in a camouflage pattern.

“I thought the camo was appropriate,” Charlie explains, as if reading my mind, “It can feel a little military on the ship sometimes.”

If we expected Nick to need some goading to change in front of the group, he certainly doesn’t. He walks over to one of the bunks and pulls off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, taking a moment to fold them lightly before setting them down. Likewise, he organizes his shoes and socks next to his shirts. As he pulls off his sweatpants, we can see that he’s wearing a pair of baggy white boxers that aren’t overly flattering. He seems to know that his current undies are far inferior to the new ones, and gives a goofy shrug to the group.

Rather than turn around, Nick remains sideways and slips his boxers off in one deft motion. I don’t have the best view, dammit, but when Nick folds his boxers and moves to slip on the new underwear I get enough of a glance to see that my theories of the boy being very well-hung are probably accurate. Sadly, he pulls on the boxer briefs before I get much of a peek.

Like the previous two pairs, this set demonstrates that Charlie has an eye for fit. They accentuate Nick’s assets perfectly, and if anything makes them look even larger. When Nick turns around to organize his clothes some more, I can’t help but notice that he also has a perfectly rounded ass. And I’m not the only one. Zane slaps my shoulder, and when I look over at him he points at Nick’s butt and then makes a gesture with both hands that seems to indicate that it looks very squeezable, which it does. Zane puts on a goofy expression that I take to mean ‘oh my god, his ass is awesome’. Everyone smiles at Zane’s silliness, although I’m sure we’re all thinking the same. Nick, his back turned to Zane, remains ignorant that the group is gawking at his perfect boy butt.

“Dog’s right, man,” Nick says, “These are really comfortable. Like the most comfortable underwear I’ve ever worn.”

Charlie smiles again, clearly happy to have hit another home run with his design. “I really like boxer briefs,” he says, “although those ones and mine are the only ones I’ve done so far.”

“So show us yours,” Dog says. He’s been walking around the room a little in a gait that can only be called prancing, I suppose to try out his new underwear.

“Yeah, let’s see your pair,” Sean agrees.

Charlie looks down at his carton. “Ok, sure, uh, actually,” he stumbles on his own words, “I’m already wearing mine. But I can show them.”

He wastes no time stripping off, quickly removing everything but his underwear. I would call the pair he’s designed for himself more of a trunk than a boxer brief, and I say so. Charlie agrees. Like the first two, he’s used a bright white waistband, and white bands around the legs. The primary fabric has an orange crosshatch pattern on it, which is simple but cute. Again, the cut really accentuates both Charlie’s butt and his package.

“Whoa, those make you look huge, dude,” Mike points out, perhaps somewhat tactlessly.

Charlie blushes. “Uh, thanks. I kind of thought support and, uh, accenting were key.”

“And you were right,” Mike agrees, then greedily adds, “Ok, where’re mine?”

“Ok, so these are a bit, uh, different, and you have to give me a little creative license,” Charlie says, dipping into the carton once again. Mike’s smile instantly drops and he takes on a dubious expression. “No offense, but you’re a bit of the naughty kid in the group, so I thought I’d get a little creative.”

Charlie hands Mike a pile of folded fabric, clearly he’s designed Mike something more substantial than a mere pair of briefs. Mike quickly strips off, not bothering to fold his clothes or show any modesty. Soon he’s standing nude in front of the whole group, which, as usual, gets everyone’s attention. Nick averts his gaze a little, and I smile at the endearing phenomenon of a guy wanting to check another guy out for the first time without making it obvious. I decide not to embarrass the guy by making one of my trademark sarcastic comments, though.

“Just wait until you see it hard, it has a wicked curve. So fun to play with,” Zane says, slapping Nick on the shoulder and showing no reservation whatsoever about embarrassing the guy. Nick blushes and Mike flashes a cute smile before sticking his tongue out at Zane.

When he unfolds the pile of fabric, they come apart in two parts, which is quickly revealed to be both a shirt and pair of briefs. Mike slips on the shirt first, then the briefs.

“Uh. Wow.” I say flatly once he’s dressed. Charlie was right, he got creative on this one.

The shirt is a tight tank top, and the briefs are ultra-low rise, so that any time Mike turns a tan strip of flesh is revealed between shirt and briefs. Both garments are black with a repeating pattern of a skull and crossbones. And again, Charlie was right. The design is a little kid-like, but also a little naughty, and it suits the boyish Mike perfectly.

“You know, I have to say, I really like this,” Mike says, turning to model his new duds. When he turns around, the entire group notices something almost simultaneously. Where the shirt and the front of the briefs is a solid black material, the rear is made differently so that you can see through it, Mike’s crack showing boldly through.

Zane breaks out laughing, unable to help himself, and I follow, mostly because of his goofiness rather than Mike’s ass.

Mike instantly gets a little self-conscious. “What? What? What is it?” He asks repeatedly while we continue giggling.

“Nothing,” Zane says once he’s a little more composed. “Just enjoying the full moon.”

“What?” Mike asks, confused at first. Then he glances at his image in the mirror and sees what Zane means. “Hey!” he exclaims, “You can see my ass!”

Mike glares at Charlie in an overly silly angry expression and Charlie shrugs comically. He clearly isn’t truly angry, which is made even more clear when he begins wagging his butt around the room and sings, “You can see my ass, you can see my ass.”

I look around at my underwear-clad friends. Zane and I are the only ones fully clothed now, which is somewhat funny considering that we’re usually the ones to get naked first. Charlie reaches again into his box, speaking as he does.

“Ok, so Zane was a bit of a challenge. He’s, well, you know, he’s Zane, so I wanted to make something that seethed sexiness. And I also remembered him talking about his tiny red jock that he used to have.”

“Yeah, that was the bomb,” Zane agrees. “Pity it got left behind.”

“So this is an homage to that lost pair.” Charlie hands Zane a folded piece of red and black material. A tiny piece of folded red and black material. About the tiniest piece of material you could fold and still think it was an article of clothing.

Zane smiles and takes the underwear from Charlie. The undies drop open in his hand, and we can see that they consist of nothing other than a black waistband and bright red pouch. “Cool!” Zane exclaims.

As is his fashion, Zane denudes himself in about a half second, not bothering to cover or hide his big swinging member. He slips the underwear up on his waist, taking a second to look at the pouch curiously to figure out how it fits. As it turns out, you simply stuff yourself into it, which is what he does.

Zane is pretty sexy nude. Ok, so he’s COMPLETELY sexy nude, all toned and muscular with his big hanging balls and cock. But somehow, he may be even sexier in these briefs, if you can call them that. The look gives Zane all the sexiness that his built frame deserves, but the red pouch, very full with Zane stuffed inside, gives one that one thing left to the imagination that can turn a guy from sexy to infinitely desirable. If Zane were naked, I’d want to play with his dick. But this look, this makes me want to jump him and violate him as violently as possible.

“Wow.” I say.

“Yeah, wow,” Nick agrees.

“Whoa,” Mike adds.

Zane turns around. There is no back at all, no strings, no fabric, nothing other than the black elastic band of fabric holding the undies into place. Again, this makes me want to jump on the guy. Zane needs no lift or support or accentuating fabric to make him sexier. His naked ass is perfect, and a pair of underwear that shows that off is a perfect choice for him.

Zane jumps up and down a little, his assets flopping, presumably to test the holding power of the pouch. “It’s the best present ever!” he exclaims, leaping across the room and embracing Charlie in a bear-hug.

The hug goes on a second or two longer than it should, and Zane apparently decides to test the underwear a little further by rubbing his red pouch against Charlie’s trunk-clad assets. Charlie would usually let this continue, but tonight he’s all business.

“Ok, ok,” he says, laughing, “Down boy, we have one more pair.”

Zane frowns and slumps down into a seat. Charlie scrounges around in his carton, at first unable to find the underwear he’s apparently made just for me.

“Devon, you were a bit tough,” he says. Uh-oh, I think, does this mean my pair is weird? Or small? I instantly wonder if Charlie could possible make a pair smaller than Zane’s, and imagine myself clad in nothing more than a tiny fig leaf.

Charlie continues, “So the thing is, we all know how much you love your tighty-whities.”

“He really does,” Sean agrees.

“And he loves taking them off,” Dog adds mischievously.

“And leaving them everywhere,” Mike says. The group stares at him and he instantly gets the insinuation, blushing a little. “I mean, yeah, I have a pair I need to get back to you Devon.”

“Me too,” Zane adds.

“And I think there are two or three pairs in my bed in the other room. You should get those,” Charlie says, smiling.

Now it’s my turn to blush. Ok, ok, so I’m the slut of the group. And maybe I leave my underwear behind after. Oops.

Charlie saves me when he continues talking. “I thought about making you something colorful, or boyish, or sexy to match your personality. But in the end, I wondered if I could make the perfect pair of white briefs. You do look good in them.”

Charlie hands me a pair of white material, true to his word. I’m not disappointed, per se, but I was expecting something a little wilder. Still, I’m eager to try them. I slip out of my clothes, and although I’m not all that modest I do turn around to change. Serves them all right after the ribbing.

Slipping on the underwear, I immediately notice that they’re comfortable. Like immensely comfortable. Wow. Charlie has found his calling. I would say that they’re just a plain pair of white briefs and that there’s nothing special about them, but that would be a grave injustice. In addition to being ultra-comfy, they hug my ass just right, giving it that trademark Devon curve that is so much fun to sway and swagger. But perhaps more notably, the pouch on these is different than every previous pair we’ve seen tonight. On these, the tailoring incorporates a pouch that completely envelops my manhood, lifting and pulling it away from my body. When I look in the mirror, I see that a side effect of the comfort is that they leave virtually nothing to the imagination.

“Wow, cool pouch,” Zane says, walking over to me and reaching out to grab my junk. The guy has no sense of personally space, I consider as he wags my undie-covered dick back and forth a little. It has the immediate effect of making me chub up a little, which I think Zane was completely aware it would. I think to myself that at least I have underwear on, which should constrain an erection, but this is before I realize that the super-comfortable material the briefs are made of is quite stretchy, stretchy enough that the pouch expands in lockstep with my member.

“I came up with both the pouch and the material after I made the other pairs. I think I’ll have to incorporate that into my other designs. As you can see, the pouch is made to prevent squishing, both when you’re flaccid and when you’re excited.

My new tighty-whities are tenting noticeably. I slap Zane’s hand away. “Enough, enough,” I scold. Zane consents, but not before mouthing ‘later’ to me seductively, which does little to reduce my excitement.

“So that’s it for now,” Charlie says. “I have some other designs, but these are the ones that I made for you guys, and the ones that are ready. Everything is set with the equipment, I plan to start selling these pretty soon.”

I can’t help but notice that Charlie looks at my groin when he says the word ‘equipment’. Punk.

“So how’re you planning to sell these?” Dog asks.

Mike answers for Charlie, “We have that credit system they set up to get the economy going. We were thinking of charging five credits per pair, maybe setting different prices depending on how cool they are.”

“No, I meant how are you going to let people know about your project?” Dog adds.

“Oh,” Charlie says, picking up his wristcom and putting it on. “I created a bump ad. He presses a few buttons on his com then shakes his wrist. In the room, our wristcoms buzz and vibrate.

Bump ads are a cool way to share info. You simply program one into your com, then whenever you activate it the ad or info will instantly go out to any other com within ten feet. I pick up my com and activate it, and as expected there is an ad for Charlie’s underwear waiting for me. It has a link to pics of the various styles, and ordering instructions.

“Cool,” I say.

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, checking out his own com, “you’re a regular entrepreneur.”

“Thanks. And I really hope other people like the stuff. You guys seem to.”

Sean reassures Charlie, “Like it? These are awesome. I’d wear them even if my other clothes weren’t disintegrating exponentially.”

“Hey,” Zane says, strapping on his com, which looks kind of funny since he’s only wearing his pouch and now his wristband, “we should help you advertise.”

“Yeah, man,” Charlie agrees, “that would be cool. Obviously that will go a lot faster than if I try to bump the whole ship myself. If you want to take the ad around tomorrow, that’s cool. Everything is ready to go.”

Zane shakes his head. “No, I meant we should help you advertise tonight. And like this.”

Mike arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, most guys are hanging out in bottomside, right? There’s a couple of championship matches going on. And then a lot of them will be in the lounge in the commons. We should go down there wearing Charlie’s underwear and bump around. Nothing is going to advertise these things better than some guys showing them off. And I have to say, you’re all the exact right guys to show them off.”

I sense another of Zane’s plans about to spin out of control. “I don’t know,” I say.

Zane huffs at me. “Oh come on, Devon, the other day you walked all the way from work in your underwear, and I’ve still been trying to figure that out. At any rate, it’s not like everyone on this ship doesn’t walk around in undies from time to time.”

It was true. Many guys stripped down in their common rooms, although it was slightly unusual to see someone in underwear in the more public areas.

“I think it’s a good idea, actually,” Nick says, explaining that if Zane is willing to show off in his minimalist underwear he is more than happy to show off his camo boxer briefs.

“Yeah, I do too,” Mike agrees.

With only a little resistance from the rest of the group, it’s decided that a brief (ha-ha) appearance in bottomside and the lounge is a great way to help Charlie get his business off the ground. I suggest we maybe wear t-shirts with the underwear, which gets me chided by just about everyone in the room. In the end, everyone agrees to go dressed in only Charlie’s creations and their wristcoms.

It’s weird walking out into the hallway with the other six guys, all of us mostly nude. I mean, Zane was right, I do it on occasion for whatever reason, and it’s not unusual to see the occasional underwear-clad guy around. But typically there aren’t seven of them in a group.

We make our way to the main elevator bank for the floor and then catch a ride down to the hallway that will connect us to the elevator that leads to the main lounge in The Commons. I get a little nervous on our second elevator ride, and Zane notices. He starts whistling ‘The Boy From Ipanema’, which gets a few chuckles.

The doors open to one of the more magnificent views on the ship – the main lobby of The Commons. Large and round and open, it’s a favorite spot for hanging out after hours, and especially on a Friday night. This Friday night is no exception; several hundred guys have congregated in the space and are loudly conversing. There are card games going at some of the tables. Card games and long voyages seem to go together. In other areas, guys are sitting at some of the couch arrangements talking, swapping stories, and generally just relaxing after what was, for most, a long week.

No one pays much attention to the seven nearly-naked boys emerging from the lift, although we catch a few glances. It’s a large room, and there are a lot of people. We decide to split up. Zane, Mike and I take the left side of the room.

Suddenly I’m a little shy, and wonder if I should scoot off home. Mike seems a little conscientious too, although he’s wearing a shirt at least. Zane, predictably, isn’t at all modest despite being very nearly nude, and pulls us over to a table where five guys are conversing.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Zane asks.

The guys all look at Zane, smirking at his nudity. One of the guys who I recognize as a boy called Cory responds. “Zane, hey. What’s up?” he asks, trying not to laugh.

“So here’s the deal,” Zane replies, going into a spiel that sounds very practiced, “My good friend Charlie has decided to become something of a clothier, and he’s starting by selling some underwear, ergo this underwear.” Zane motions at our briefs, as if the guys may have missed that we’re standing around in nothing but them.

“So, if you’re running low, and if you don’t want to wear those fucking awful ship-made things, here’s the info.”

Zane gives his wrist a shake and Charlie’s ad goes out to everyone at the table, as well as the table next to it. They take a look at the info. “Cool,” Cory says.

Before moving on, Zane hits a button on his com and gives his wrist another shake. Suddenly, Charlie’s ad pops up on the surface of the four tables nearest us. The table occupants glance down at the ads, which would be impossible not to do considering that they’re huge and covering the entire surface of the tables.

“I didn’t know they could do that.” Mike says. Zane smiles back.

And most conversations go like that. No one seems overly surprised that we’re dressed in underwear, and once we explain they seem happy to have a choice other than the standard ship stuff. One guy even asks if we can hook him up with a pair right away because he had to resort to the ship underwear and they were making his balls itch.

“Sorry,” Mike replies, “I’d give you mine, but I think that might cause problems.”

As we finish up in the room I come upon a group of three or four guys talking in a circle. I decide to try being as bold as Zane and walk up to the group, greeting them warmly. Unfortunately, at exactly that moment Conner comes around the corner, joining the group and speaking to them in a professional tone.

“It’s like I thought, we’re low on those three drugs, but I think we have…oh, hey Devon,” he says, noticing mid-sentence that I’m standing there in my skivvies.

I try to go into Zane’s sales pitch, which was impressive, but in my case it comes out a little weak. “Hi. I have. Underwear.”

“Well, let’s thank god for that,” a guy called Jonathan replies. It puts me even more off-kilter, especially when one of the other guys, a nurse who’s started working under Conner, laughs at the joke.

I can see that Conner is a little mortified, either because his coworkers are making fun of me, or because his friend has shown up nearly nude in front of his coworkers. His response comes off as a little patronizing, so maybe it’s more of the latter, “So, Devon, is there a reason you’re here? In your underwear?”

I figure Zane or Mike will come to my rescue, but if they’ve noticed me floundering they’ve decided to see how it plays out. “Yeah,” I get back on my footing, “So Charlie is selling these clothes he’s designed. Underwear, you know. So if you have questions, here’s an ad.”

I bump the group and they look down at their wristcoms. I take advantage of the distraction to take my leave.

“Really smooth,” Zane says when I rejoin my little group. So he was watching. The bastard.

We finish the room then meet back up with the others, who seem a little giddy and hyper. It’s decided that everything went rather well, so we all head to bottomside, where even more guys tend to hang out on a Friday.

Exiting the elevator, we run into Ian. Normally Ian’s bright-blue eyes distract me and render me incapable of human speech, but after my performance in front of Conner I’m determined to do better, and I do, explaining to Ian why the group is all wearing underwear.

“Cool, that sounds cool. I’ll totally check out your store,” he smiles. “See you guys later,” he says as we head into bottomside proper.

The big to-do on Friday nights is these intramural football matches everyone has gotten really into. First they were just small games, but as teams formed and people got better they started to draw larger and larger crowds. Not a mystery since entertainment on the ship was significantly less than that on earth.

We make our way around the field – things are in-between matches and most guys are walking around, stretching their legs. I take Charlie up to the tiered gym that overhangs the playing field, and we bump the guys we run into there. From a vantage point on the fifth and highest tier, I can see Zane down on the field below goofing around. He looks very naked from this far away, although his underwear is bright enough that I can still make out the vibrant red pouch that is barely covering him.

After an hour we’ve circled all the bottomside areas and talked to most everyone we’ve run into. It’s decided that we’ve done enough underwear modeling for the night, and as a group we head back to our flat on the unoccupied floor. Everyone is a bit giddy. It’s a little embarrassing, but really, really empowering to walk around in your underwear all night.

“That was really cool,” Mike says. Several guys voice their agreement.

“And kudos to Mr. Charlie,” Zane says, reaching over to playfully tussle Charlie’s moppy brown hair, “not only are your designs sexy and comfy and cool, but I didn’t pop out once.” He playfully thumps his red pouch, which although tiny has indeed constrained him all evening.

“Thanks,” Charlie replies, “And thanks for ‘advertising’. I mean really, that was really helpful. You guys are awesome.”

“So’s the view,” Dog says, giggling. Mike has been leading the group, his see-through undies giving us all a look at his butt flexing as he walks down the hallway. Mike picks up on the comment and looks back to see everyone checking him out. He giggles and puts a hand half-heartedly over the sheer fabric covering his rear.

We make our way back to our flat and enter the bedroom we’d started the evening in. I feel…I don’t know…high somehow. Not like on drugs, but just really good. And maybe a little cold. But mostly high. Like on the ship can be dull. And scary sometimes, and sometimes lonely. But around these guys I feel…hopeful. Like things may be ok. And it helps that Charlie has occupied himself with something as simple as underwear making. It’s a bit odd – I’m not sure he’d be doing it if we were back on Earth, but here on the ship it makes me feel very normal. And a little horny, I guess.

“So, Nick, this what you expected when you asked to come tonight?” Sean asks our newbie.

“Not really, but this was, uh, cool.”

Nick and I smile. He’d been nervous to ask me to come, and then nervous when the guys were all around. But somewhere between Charlie handing out underwear and coming back, he’d sort of melded in with us, almost as if he’d been a ‘member’ all along. He’d even talked about that a little when we were downstairs, and about how things were weird relationship-wise on the ship. Everyone listened intently and was really cool with him. I was happy for this. Nick was actually a good guy, and sexuality aside he was a fun guy to have around.

I may have been able to set sexuality aside for a moment, but Zane never seemed able to. Or at least he wasn’t prone to. He walks over to Nick, who flinches a little at Zane’s proximity. “Maybe you expected it to be a little more like this?” Zane asks, reaching down to very lightly stroke the front of Nick’s new underwear.

I tense a little. I wouldn’t mind Zane putting the moves on anyone else so brazenly, but Nick is new and I’m a little overly protective of him. I’m not crazy about Zane putting Nick on the spot in front of everyone else. “Zane, c’mon…” I say in an annoyed tone, moving in to push his hand away.

“No, it’s…uh…ok,” Nick groans in reply, relaxing noticeably and shifting his weight to give Zane even better access. I shrug. Well, it’s what he came for, I guess.

It wasn’t a typical Friday night. Normally we would play games for a while. Horse around, then play something designed to slowly get us all naked. But in this case we were all already almost naked, and if everyone was like me they were super-charged from the whole walking around nearly nude in public thing. I could feel the giddiness in my chest and tummy, and the giddiness was very quickly becoming a surge of hormones.

This seemed to be the case with everyone else, and later I’d reflect that Charlie’s underwear was probably to blame. Stylish undies are dang sexy, and seven hot guys standing around in them was doubly so.

Zane smiles as he very lightly tickles Nick’s balls with his fingertips. Nick just stands there with a glazed expression on his face, and the camo pouch begins inflating noticeably. Zane is always hot, and Nick has always been cute, but the two standing there in their underwear – dang.

The others silently agree with my assessment. Mike moves into position to see better, and Charlie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Mike’s torso and playfully fingering Mike’s tummy through the skull-and-crossbones tank. Sean and Dog are sitting on a bunk, looking on. At least, they’re looking on until Dog’s hand finds its way into Sean’s lap and begins kneeding the red bulge there. Sean grunts his approval and leans over to kiss Dog deeply.

And this is the great thing about the wank club. Not only are we great friends, but sexuality between us has become open, honest, and fun. It’s a great thing, to be able to come up here each Friday night, strip off and have some interactive play with other guys. I think back to when Charlie had first suggested it. Then it had seemed weird. Embarrassing. Maybe even dirty. Now it just felt natural, and awesome.

This was something Nick was learning first-hand, no pun intended. Zane was very adept at everything sexual, and he was very adept at handjobs. He stroked the new boy a little stronger now, which made Nick inhale sharply. The sound of Nick’s gasp sends a surge of hormones coursing through my own body, and I realize I’m hard. It kind of snuck up on me – the fabric on my new undies is really stretchy.

I whisper over to Charlie, “This material is really awesome.”

He looks down at the substantial white tent in my shorts and smiles coyly, dipping his own digits under the waistband of Mike’s shorts and apparently striking gold, Mike grunting in response. Charlie is also aroused, I can see, but his underwear is made of a more standard cotton material that constrains him and holds his growing tent in a downward pointing direction. Mine is sticking straight out.

I look up to see that Nick is also checking out my assets. He smiles at me warmly and lustfully, which always has the effect of making me melt a little on the inside. Zane takes advantage of his being distracted. In one of his patented smooth and effortless moves, he manages to open the fly of Nick’s briefs, pull out both his erect dick and balls, and adjust the material so that Nick can freely hang out in the open.

“Wow.” Mike says. We all stare at the newest member’s member. It’s pretty big. I mean, like enormous.

Nick is a cutie, as I’ve said. Lightly browned skin, big puppy dog eyes, and a rounded nose and ears that drive me a bit crazy. I’d also noticed that he showed a prominent bulge in his shorts, and now I could see why. A very erect and VERY cute dick was jutting nobly from his crotch. If I had to guess I’d say it was, I don’t know, a gazillion inches long? Later we measure it at very slightly longer, but not quite as thick, as Zane. But right now, stabbing straight out from his body through the fly in his new camouflage shorts, it looks enormous.

Even Zane is impressed. “Awesome stick, dude.”

“Yeah, like ba-zong,” Mike says. Nick flushes, but just a little. He looks like he’s about to say something when Zane grabs his cock and he gasps.

I suddenly get kind of shy. I don’t know why. I mean, Sean and Dog have paired off, and it seems like Charlie and Mike are heading in that direction (now Mike has reached back behind himself and has his fingers down Charlie’s pants). Zane has exposed Nick and is playing with him, and that makes me the odd man out. I want to feel Nick up too, but for some reason it seems kind of, I don’t know, forbidden?

Like I said before, Zane is a very astute and very considerate lover. He seems to sense this from me before I even fully realize it myself. “Hey, come over here,” he whispers to me, taking my hand and pulling me into a circle with him and Nick. Nick smiles as Zane takes my hand and places it on Nick’s stomach. He’s warm, and pretty well built. His skin feels flawlessly smooth beneath my hand, and I swallow dryly.

Very slowly I move my hand down Nick’s body, eventually coming into contact with the downy brown fuzz that circles the base of his monster. I finger the base of the shaft delicately, it’s hot and hard. Like, of course it would be hard, but in this case I notice that Nick gets way harder than a lot of guys do. Zane gets hard, but he’s always a little flexible. I’d considered that large dicks were just like that, but Nick’s isn’t. Nick’s is a rock-hard spear jutting outward, the middle slightly fatter than the tip or base. I stroke him in earnest, feeling the heft and thickness. It’s awesome.

At that moment, Zane’s pouch gives out. Well, more accurately, it loses the capability of containing its owner’s erection. Because there is nothing to the underwear other than the elastic pouch, once Zane hits about half-hardness it just gives way, Zane’s manhood springing out for the world to see. For some reason, this strikes both Nick and I as hilarious, and we giggle. Zane smiles back, and then grabs me through my sheer tighty-whities. I gasp and stop laughing.

Nick reaches out and feels Zane’s tool. “Awesome stick yourself,” he says. Zane nods in response, his fat dick plumping and rising upward.

I look to my left to see that things are moving in the same direction across the room. In fact, as it turns out I’m the only one not fully exposed. Mike has pulled Charlie out through the fly in his trunks, and, given the lack of a fly in Mike’s low-rise briefs, Charlie has hooked the waistband under Mike’s balls so that the teenager is exposed in a very seductive manner. Dog is likewise sticking out of his fly, but Sean has opted to scoot his briefs all the way to his knees. The two are still making out deeply. They really love each other, which is sweet.

I turn my attention back to Nick and Zane. Reaching out, I take a cock in each hand, partially to compare and partially because it seems like fun. The two boys are more than willingly let me fondle them, and while I do so they both try to cooperatively scoot my underwear down over my erection and off. It’s an odd and awkward little ballet, them trying to disrobe me while my two fists are busy stroking their respective assets. They ultimately succeed in getting my undies over my thighs, and I help out by wiggling out of them, letting them drop to my feet and then stepping out of them. The cloth is warm under my toes, and I revel in being totally nude.

Nick takes advantage of this and feels me up. It’s more exploratory than erotic, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking ‘holy crap, I didn’t know they came this small!’ Ok, so I’m not like microscopic or anything, but I’m nowhere near Nick’s size. I think about taking his cock up the ass and wince a little. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt, but I have to presume it would be very…ah…filling.

“Devon likes his balls tickled when he first starts,” Zane says huskily, smiling.

“Ah,” Nick replies, following his suggestion and very lightly brushing my balls with his fingers, exploring the soft silky tissue there.

“Ergh, ahh, wow, ahh,” I stammer, perhaps a little more emphatically than I would if it were someone else. I figure I should exaggerate my erotic sounds a little for Nick’s sake. It works and he smiles at me.

I could let him do this all day, and in fact that’s exactly what my body is screaming out for. However, having these two boys naked and to myself has made me curious, and I can’t resist. I move slowly out of Nick’s grip and drop to my knees. Nick and Zane are standing very close to one another, but not quite close enough, so I put a palm on either ass and gently push them into one another. Nick doesn’t quite get it, but Zane complies instantly, taking a small step towards Nick.

The two are now close enough that I can press their cocks against one another, which is exactly what I do. Wow. The guys are about the same height, so they line up just right, and it takes both hands to hold the stiff members together. I stroke up and down a bit; Zane moves his newly freed hands to Nick’s chest and fingers his nipples.

Nick may be a match for Zane in the dick department, but he’s nowhere near as muscular as the older boy. Still, his skin is perfectly olive and smooth, and although he’s not as built as Zane he’s still very sexy, standing above me, his breathing slightly elevated.

I decide to try something while I have the two in this position. You only live once, right?

Getting up as high on my knees as I can, I move my face towards the two members. I can smell Zane’s musky manliness, but there is also a softer scent, like vanilla and a house cat that I take to be Nick’s smell. I almost start laughing at my weird imagery, but carry on and proceed to try and take both dicks into my mouth simultaneously.

It’s a project that partially succeeds and partially fails. Ok, so there are no injuries like the time with Mike, and when I put the two tips between my lips and lick at them both Zane and Nick grunt their approval. However, I soon discover that the two cocks are a bit more than a mouthful, and my dreams of getting them both all the way in are dashed. Still, I proceed to give the best dual blowjob I can, licking and sucking on one and then the other.

“Oh my god, oh man, jeez,” Nick gasps.

“Frelling hot, huh? I’ve been working with him and I think he’s getting the hang of it,” Zane replies.

It is hot, and I carry on a bit before my knees start to get sore. When I start to feel pins and needles I sit back on my butt.

“Here, c’mon,” Zane says, tugging at my hand.

I get up and he leads Nick and me to an unoccupied bunk. Across the room Sean and Dog have moved into a 69 position and are slurping away. Mike and Charlie are sitting cross-legged across from one another masturbating each other. Nick and I watch the other boys while Zane reaches over and grabs a bottle from a nearby drawer. He squeezes a small amount of liquid into either hand, then wraps them around our dicks, spreading lube on our shafts.

“Freak, Zane, oh my god,” I gasp, “You’re so good at that.”

“Lot’s of practice,” he smiles.

“This is…ah…ugh…very relaxing,” Nick groans.

We’re sitting on the edge of the bed, so Zane moves around and kneels in front of us so that he can get a good grip on both our shafts. We instinctively lie back, enjoying the sensation of the lube and Zane’s expert fingers.

The position gives us a perfect view of the room. Sean and Dog going at it, Mike and Charlie wanking each other. Nick’s eyes are glazed over with lust and amazement. I remember the first time we were all together in here, how new and exciting it was. I feel a very copious glob of precum leak out of my cock, adding to the lube Zane is using. His hand squelches audibly on my shaft. I’m not in a position where I can reach Zane’s dick with my hands, so I reciprocate by placing my foot on his hard shaft and giving him a bit of a toejob. He grunts a little.

I am in sex-charged heaven, letting Zane play with me, then Nick, then both Nick and me. For a while I stroke Nick’s dick, enjoying the length and way it springs to attention. Nick plays with me a bit, then with Zane. And then we’re back to where we started, Zane stroking the two of us off.

The night had been super-charged with hormones, and although I’d like our little orgy to go on forever, it doesn’t take long before everyone is too excited to contain themselves.

Sean and Dog, who have been giving one another frantic and lustful blowjobs, are the first to go. Nick and I happen to be watching as Sean starts grunting louder and more frenzied than before. He’s on top of Dog now, slipping in and out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Uh…uh…uh…uh,” he’s grunting.

The two are getting a little wilder than I ever remember them being; Nick and I are somewhat entranced by the scene.

“Ugh..ugh,” Sean grunts, “Ok, I’m almost---OH FUCK!” Sean seems caught by surprise, a look of both terror and ecstasy crossing his face. He lifts himself up slightly, and his dick erupts downward, right into Dog’s face.

“UGH!” he yells as he cums, thick white semen landing in his boyfriend’s eyes.

Dog sputters, “Dude, I can’t believe you jizzed right in my eyes. I…OH!”

At that moment Sean has recovered enough to reach down under Dog’s balls. I can’t tell what he does exactly, but it sets Dog off in instant orgasm.

“Agh, oh fuck. Oh damn,” Dog gasps, “UGH…UGH!,” he moans. Dog, face covered in cum and eyes tightly squeezed shut, erupts straight up, his own load landing squarely in Sean’s face. Payback I guess.

The two boys sputter and moan, in ecstasy but with eyes obviously burning from one another’s deposits. “Hazard of the job,” Zane shrugs before going back to work on Nick and me.

While Sean and Dog recover, Mike and Charlie also finish, but with considerably less problems.

“Ahhhhhhh….” Mike begins, one of his customary vocal buildups to climax.

Charlie encourages him on. “C’mon. Here we go. C’mon. This is going to be great.”

And so it seems to be. “OH FUCK!” Mike yells, his dick erupting. He’s left his tank on, and the load shows bright and sticky against the black fabric.

While Mike thrashes, he continues working on Charlie, but apparently Charlie can’t take it. He brushes Mike’s hand aside and begins flogging himself at top speed. “Oh…oh…oh…oh!” he grunts, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. And then he sprayed. It didn’t go far, but from his contented coos it obviously felt good.

Four down, Zane decides to go into overdrive on our dicks, building to the eroticism of the scene. Between his ministrations and the lube and the smell of semen that is wafting in the room now, I can’t hold out long.

“Ah jeez,” I squirm. Zane knows me pretty well – he knows that the pleasure is getting to be too intense. Instead of letting up, he strokes harder and faster.

“Here you go, buddy, here you go,” he says.

“Zane..slow down…oh my…ugh…I can’t…OH! OH!...UGH!!!!!” I grunt. Zane doesn’t stop or slow at all as my cock erupts. I thrash about on the bed, partially in pleasure and partially because my friend is almost literally torturing me.

“AH, DAMN!” Nick exclaims next to me. I’m sure that my orgasm is hot for him, but Zane has also continued stroking Nick with about as much fervor as me. When he cums, Nick chirps and gasps cutely. His dick doesn’t spray far, the semen just kind of leaps from the tip a little, oozing down his large shaft.

When we stop groaning and cumming, the sound Nick and I breathing heavily are the only noises in the room. I open my eyes to see everyone else staring at us. Charlie has a rather silly smirk on his face.

I look over to Zane, the only guy that hasn’t finshed. I move to grab his dick. I really want to finish him off but he shakes his head at me. “No, look. Check it out.”

With great panache, Zane squats, balancing squarely on the balls of his feet and bouncing up and down a tiny bit. He’s not touching himself at all, and I wonder what he’s doing.

“Ok, here we go,” he says. I’m about to ask what he means when his cock twitches a little, and then erupts in a sticky stream of semen. It shoots pretty far – at least two feet, but the amazing thing is that it went off without him touching it.

“Ahhhhhh…” he groans as his orgasm subsides. Nick and I stare wide-eyed at the display.

“Uh, wow.” I utter, not sure what else to say.

Zane shrugs, blushing a bit, which sets me off giggling. This sets him off laughing, which makes me picture the scene in my head. A room full of naked, cum-covered boys. The post-coital hormonal high makes this seem ultimately funny, and I start giggling. Nothing is all that funny, so of course that makes me laugh harder, and pretty soon I’m laughing so hard I can’t breath.

Zane hands Nick a tissue. “It’s one of the reasons we keep him around,” he says, “Lost in space, stuck on this ship, and he never stops giggling.”

It’s true. Since we created the wank group I do laugh more frequently, and it feels good. When I finally stop, and it takes a bit, the others have started getting dressed. Nick thanks us all profusely for letting him come tonight, and looks considerably relieved when Zane says that next time he should let Mike and Charlie play with his monster dick. I think relieved because he may have wondered if we’d invite him back. He’s cute and fun and friendly and well-hung, as we now know, so of course everyone wants him back.

It was getting late, so Sean and Dog excused themselves, saying they had an early morning the next day. Nick did too, so after a considerable amount of groping and flirting (mostly from Mike, the horny bastard), he also headed home. Mike and Charlie decided to bunk out in Charlie’s room in this flat and headed out together. Zane and I notice them holding hands as they leave.

Zane was helping me clean up, and as the other two boys left he asked, “So, what’s the deal with them? Together together, or not?”

I shrug. “Not sure. I hope so. Charlie seems way better lately. I was worried about him.”

“Me too. I think this clothes thing has been good for him. And if he and Mike are together, that may be even better. But are you ok with that?”

I think about what Zane is asking. I mean, sure, Charlie and I had always said we were just friends, and even our sex play felt that way. And I was happy to see my friend doing better. There was a time that I honestly thought he might be suicidal, but those days seemed like a distant memory now. Now he was busy, frequently cranky at my distractions, but happier. So yeah, I was happy for him. But there was still a pang deep in my chest. Of jealousy? Anger? Loneliness? I wasn’t quite sure, but there was something there that didn’t feel all that great.

I explain this to Zane the best I can.

He clasps his large palm over my shoulder. It’s very reassuring. “Don’t worry, Dev, we talked about this before. You’ll find somebody.”

Maybe Zane is right, maybe that’s the core of my feelings. I smile at my friend warmly. I really appreciate Zane, even though there’s a bit of the same mix of feelings I have towards Charlie there for Zane. He rejected me too, after all. But I don’t tell him this, I don’t think it would accomplish much.

We clean up a little more, and eventually Zane takes off, but I make an excuse to stay a little longer. Once I’m alone, I move to the emergency access hatch in the rear of the room. I have to open one of the unused bunks to step up to it, which I do. I knock lightly on the panel before opening it, a courtesy I’d started a while back.

As expected, there is no one inside, but there is a wad of tissue and a scrap of paper. I smile to myself. The Sneak had been here tonight.

The Sneak, as I’d come to refer to him, was a guy who had spied on Charlie and me one of the first times we’d gotten together. Later he’d snuck into the medical bay and jerked me off. One would think this would have revealed his identity, but I had been stuck in a scanner at the time, and all I saw was a hot guy with a rose tattoo jerking off while stroking me. I wasn’t in a position to see anything above his navel, sadly.

It had been kinky, and fun, and while some people might have tried to uncover the other boy’s identity (ok, I sort of had, but he was adept at remaining anonymous), I decided to play along. I’d left him a note about the wank club the first time we’d tried it, and true to form he’d spied on the group from the emergency tunnel.

Now we left coded messages to one another. It was something that just evolved, and I was finding our sneak and spy games to be super-fun. I picked up the scrap of paper. On it was scrawled: “Thanks, as always, wow –Sneak.”

I smiled. He didn’t have to leave a note to tell me he enjoyed the show tonight. The sticky wet tissue he left was enough to convey that particular message. Still, I appreciated his efforts.

It was customary for me to leave a message for Sneak in return, and our rapport had grown to where we respected one another that there was a certain level of trust. He knew I wouldn’t try to catch him, even though there were a dozen ways I could have. If nothing else the guy tended to leave a lot of DNA lying around. But that would have ruined our game, a game I wanted to take a little further. I reached into my pocket and took out my own scrap of paper and a small chip I’d prepared in advance. I placed them in the tunnel where I usually left messages for Sneak – off to the side and under an L-pipe so that the items would be unremarkable and unnoticed by a passer-by, not that anyone was supposed to be in the emergency tunnels.

The message I left tonight contained a challenge. “You like to watch and be anonymous. That’s ok, but I think you owe me a show too. See the chip for ideas. Password is machine where we met.”

I smiled. The data chip contained a short movie of…well…to be honest it was a short movie of me jerking off at my desk. Actually, a couple of them. I figured my voyeuristic friend would find them amusing, but what’s more I hoped he would comply and leave a recording for me. I’d very carefully positioned my wristcom camera so that you couldn’t see my face in the videos. I didn’t care, really, but I figured it would show Sneak that he could give me a vid of himself without revealing who he was.

I shut the hatch and stowed the bunk back in its place. Making sure everything was more or less tidy, I went to leave the room. It had been a good day, and as I walked home I thought about things. I had pretty good friends on the ship, and things were going well.

Stepping out into the living room of our unoccupied flat, a space we never really used, I was greeted by a figure in the darkened room. At first I assume it’s Mike or Charlie, on their way to or from a quick shower. They’re the only ones sleeping over in the unoccupied flat tonight.

But my eyes quickly adjust and I see that it’s Reid. Reid, my estranged best friend who stopped talking to me when I started sleeping with guys. Reid, who isn’t supposed to know I hang out down here. Running into him unexpectedly gives me a start, and it also sends pangs of nervousness through my chest and body. He looks pensive, and I instantly wonder what the hell he’s doing down here.

“Hey, Devon,” he says slowly and almost uncertainly, “Can we talk?”

I gulp, my throat feeling instantly dry and uncomfortable. “Sure,” I reply, a little squeakier than I intended. I’d had a great day. Now I wasn’t so sure it was going to end that way.

To Be Continued








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