"Wait, how long has it been exactly since you last had sex?"
When Robby had invited Jack over for beers and a game on a Friday night they both had off, that question was the last thing he expected.
For all the things they do share with each other as best friends, conversations about their sex lives have generally been a topic skirted around.
It was his fault for making a comment about them both being single, and that spending their free evenings at home together wasn't going to get them laid.
It was an easy leap from there to where they ended up.
Robby winces. It's long enough that he has to think about it. Just over two years at least. Not that he can admit that out loud.
"Ouch, well, bet your right hand's been getting a workout, right?"
He does his best to school his expression in response, but Jack knows him too well.
"Wait," Jack turns his body away from the TV and looks straight at Robby, "Are you saying you haven't even jerked off in all that time?"
"Of course I have!" Robby says a little too quickly. Jack eyes him down. "I tried, alright? I jerked myself off until I almost gave myself friction burns, but I couldn't quite…get myself there."
"You can't come?"
Robby wrinkles his nose at Jack's bluntness. "That's one crude way to put it, yes."
"You know why?"
He huffs, "I'm sure you have your theories."
"It's because you never fucking turn that brain of yours off. How can you possibly enjoy a good orgasm if you're thinking about Gloria and Press-Ganey scores?"
"Please, for the love of God, never use the words orgasm and Gloria in the same sentence ever again".
"I'm just saying."