Chapter Text
Marcos and Bruno have been best friends for years. They met in their first year of school and have been extremely close ever since.
Marcos was always the chaotic, flirtatious one of the pair—with a new boyfriend or girlfriend every month, and the occasional fling with a married woman—whereas Bruno preferred stable, long-lasting relationships. At least, until yesterday.
— He broke up with you on your anniversary? What an asshole.
The two friends were in Bruno’s small apartment after he’d texted Marcos to say that Félix, his long-term boyfriend, had ended things the day before.
Since it was sweltering and the only air conditioner was in the bedroom, Marcos and Bruno were sprawled out on the small wooden bed with a pack of beer between them—courtesy of Marcos, to help cure Bruno’s blues.
Bruno, fresh out of the shower and wearing only his underwear, was leaning against the headboard with a beer in hand. His dark skin glistened with leftover water from the shower, and his black hair dripped, falling over his dark brown eyes.
He was absolutely furious—which surprised Marcos, who had expected to find his friend weeping in the fetal position, surrounded by photos of his ex scattered across the bed.
— He said he didn't feel the magic anymore and that our relationship lacked excitement. Boring, monotonous, and uninteresting—those were some of the words he used.
— Félix is an idiot; everyone who knew you two wanted a relationship just like yours.
— You know what the worst part is? He said it was my fault. That I let things fall into a rut and didn't put in the effort I used to.
Marcos, still feeling the heat and sharing an intimate bond with Bruno, decided to follow his friend's lead and strip down to his underwear as well, leaving his pale, heavily tattooed skin fully exposed and his light blonde hair hidden beneath the cap he’d borrowed from Bruno—and never returned.
— Come on, man. You know that when someone wants to break up, they’ll come up with all sorts of excuses. You can't let him come out on top while you sit there blaming yourself.
— But what if he’s right? What if I really did neglect our relationship?
— I don't believe that for a second.
Bruno fell silent and finished his beer, his free hand absentmindedly stroking his stomach.
Marcos looked at his friend and thought about what an idiot Félix was for losing someone so amazing. Bruno was the perfect boyfriend; anyone who couldn't see that was completely out of their mind.
— You know what else?
Bruno’s tone grew even more miserable.
— What?
— He complained about the sex, too. Said even that had become mechanical and passionless.
— God, how did you waste so much time on a guy that awful?
Bruno let out a sad laugh and closed his eyes. Unable to bear seeing his friend in such a sorry state any longer, Marcos got up and went to the kitchen to grab the bottle of vodka he’d brought along with the beers. Nothing cures a broken heart quite like alcohol.
Some time later, they were both looser—somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk.
— You know something I always wanted to do, but he didn't?
Marcos—now sitting on the floor with his head resting against the bed—was tired of hearing about all the stupid things Félix had done during the relationship, but he wanted to support his friend and help him get over the sadness faster, so he made an affirmative sound to encourage him to keep talking.
— A sex tape.
— What?
Bruno laughed at Marcos’s shout, lay down on the bed with his head next to Marcos’s, and repeated himself.
— A sex tape of us. Setting up a camera—or even just a phone—and recording it, you know? But Félix never wanted to; he said it was ridiculous and got paranoid thinking someone might see it.
— So you guys didn't do it?
— No, and that was on him—so you can see I wasn't actually that boring or uptight.
Marcos chuckled at how happy Bruno seemed to have reached that conclusion, and then an idea crossed his mind.
— What if you made one?
— Made what?
— A sex tape, you dummy—think about it.
— Why?
— Because it’s something you wanted, and it might help you snap out of this funk.
Bruno fell silent, and Marcos took that as a "no." After all, even though Félix was an idiot, they’d broken up less than a day ago; it made sense not to want to think about having sex with someone else.
Even though Bruno was incredibly hot, and Marcos knew plenty of men would be happy to console him with lots of sex—himself included.
Bruno broke the silence and spoke again.
— I don't know. I mean, I only thought about it because I trusted Félix. I don't think I could have sex with someone and record it without having some real intimacy with the guy.
Marcos, always a good friend, looked at Bruno and gave him a confident, knowing smile.
— That’s easy to fix. I know someone trustworthy who’d do it with you.
— Who?
— Me.
— Are you sure?
After a long silence, Bruno looks at Marcos curiously, as if seeing a new side of his friend he hadn't known before.
— I’m hot, you’re hot, sex is hot, and your ex is an idiot. Of course I’m sure.
Bruno and Marcos were back to sitting on the bed, facing each other. The vodka bottle, now empty, sat forgotten on the nightstand.
— But we’ll still be friends after, right? It would just be sex, and just for tonight, yeah?
— Exactly—just one friend helping another through a rough patch. That’s all.
— Helping with your dick?
— To each their own methods.
Bruno smiles in amusement, and Marcos knows he’s going to agree. He has a knack for getting his friend into trouble right alongside him.
But Marcos is being sincere. He just wants to help Bruno feel better and confident again after Félix completely shook him up.
The fact that Bruno is hot—and that Marcos has always wondered what it would be like to sleep with him—is just a bonus.
— If you’re sure, let’s do it.
Bruno is excited now, and Marcos is going to make him forget his ex in no time. He leans toward his friend, their mouths brushing against each other as he speaks.
— Turn on the camera, buddy.