𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑜 - 𝑏𝑜𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 ✰

You and Theo have been inseparable since the fifth grade. You live on the same street, your houses directly next to each others, close enough that you learned to climb through each other's windows before you learned to properly read. He's seen you cry over bad outfits and even worse breakups. You've seen him puke after his first beer and held his hand through his grandmother's funeral. You know his favorite energy drink. He knows your period schedule. There's nothing hidden, nothing sacred, nothing you haven't shared. Until recently. It started off small, noticing the way his muscles filled out his shirts, the smell of his cologne when he leaned too close, the strange flip in your stomach when he laughed at something you said. You told yourself it was just pre-graduation nostalgia, the fear of losing your favorite person to college dorms and different cities. He recently started going to the gym, he started filling out, and started looking like someone you didn't recognize in the best possible way. Your birthday was three months ago, the big one, you were finally eighteen. You didn’t have a party, you never did. You never celebrated your birthday the way others did, Theo knew that. But he still showed up at your window at midnight with a basket full of gifts. Candy you liked. A vinyl from your favorite music artist. A hoodie from his closet, the one you always stole from him. And a medium-sized Hello Kitty plushie, soft and round, the kind of silly gift that only made sense between people who'd known each other forever. "You said you wanted one when we were twelve." He'd said and shrugged. "Figured it's not too late." You'd hugged him for a long time, too long. You felt his chest against yours, his hands low on your back. You away and told yourself you were being stupid. Now it's summer. Graduation is done. College is looming. And everything is changing.

—————————————————

It's Saturday, the kind of afternoon where the boredom finally catches up to you. Your parents and little brother are out at some barbecue that you already regret skipping. You're bored out of your mind. So what better to do than be on your phone. You’re scrolling mindlessly through instagram, your legs kicked up on the headboard of your bed. Then you see it. Theo's post, twenty minutes ago. He’s in a gym locker room, shirtless and flexing in the mirror. His back muscles defined and glistening, shoulders broad, waist narrow, that stupid smirk he makes when he knows he looks good. The caption says something about gains. You don't read it. You're too busy staring at his chest, the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, showing off his perfect v-line. Your thumb hovers over the like button, but you don’t like it instead you scroll past it. A few seconds later you scroll back just to stare again. Heat pools in your stomach, it’s sudden, insistent, and extremely unwelcome. You've been fighting this for months. Telling yourself best friends don't think about best friends like this. But he's not the scrawny kid who shared his lunch with you anymore. He's something else. Someone else. Your hand moves before your brain catches up, sliding down your stomach, under the waistband of your panties. You're already embarrassingly wet and you touch yourself with a gasp, your phone still in your other hand, Theo's photo still glowing on the screen.But your fingers aren’t enough. You need pressure. Friction. Something to grind against. Your eyes land on the Hello Kitty plushie sitting on the corner of your bed. It’s a nice shape, firm, the perfect size. The gift was from Theo which made the idea instantly better by a long shot. It’s wrong to use his gift this way, but your need is way more important. You turn off your phone, grab the plushie and settle it on the middle of your bed. You pull your tank top up, letting your breasts spill out, your nipples are hard and sensitive. You roll them between your fingers as you position yourself over the plushie in a straddling position. You're still wearing your panties, pink, cotton, and soaked through. You press down against the plushie experimentally, feeling the give of the plush against you. "Fuck.." You whisper, your head falling back, already chasing it. You start moving. Slow circles at first, then faster, grinding down harder, imagining it's him. Theo's hips. Theo's hands. Theo's mouth on your neck while he touches you like this, rough and desperate and finally giving you what you've been wanting for months. You roll your nipples harder, pinching, imagining his fingers there instead. His voice in your ear: “You're so wet for me, aren't you?” The way he'd look at you if he knew, if he saw you like this, needy and open for him. "Theo.." You moan, not caring how loud you are, the house empty, your hips snapping faster, chasing the edge. "Please-" The window slides open. You freeze mid-grind, your breasts still out, the plushie between your legs, one hand on your tit and the other gripping the sheets. Theo is halfway through the window, one leg over the sill, hair still wet from the shower, wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt that clings to his chest. He sees you. You see him seeing you. For a long moment, neither of you moves. Then his eyes drop to your exposed breasts, to your hand still frozen on your nipple, to the plushie between your legs, to the obvious wet spot on your panties. “Woah..” He mumbles. He climbs through the window and closes it behind himself. You want to move but you didn’t, you just pulled your tank top back down. “Is that the plushie I got you?” He asks as he walks over to you. Your face was completely flushed, but you are still feeling so needy and now that he’s right in front of you maybe he can help you.