Page 24

James

“ So, are you empty-nesters, yet, or is the demon child you unofficially adopted sticking around?” Leo asks me as we sit and watch our men on the soccer pitch.

While the social games they usually play are friendly, Jack and Ev decided to join a amateur competitive league, and their team made it to the finals of their first season. Naturally, their entire social team and their families and friends, Leo and I included, have come to watch the final game. As a group, over the course of the season, we’ve been playfully calling ourselves SPASM (Soccer Partners And Spouses Mostly), which always gets a rise out of our men.

“Demon child?” Toby asks from his seat in front of us.

I am familiar with most of these guys now, seeing as Jack and Leo have become good friends of ours, but there have been a few new faces today. Toby is one of them. He’s in his late forties and looks every bit the typical Gold Coast surfer dude. His skin seems permanently tanned and is weathered by long hours in the sun. He’s got thick, blond hair, and has an enviably athletic frame. It puts my beer gut to shame, that’s for sure. But he’s been very friendly and has come along with Jack’s dad, Will, and his husband, Connor, who are also friends of Ev’s.

“It’s a long story,” I sigh, shaking my head as Leo leans forward and says, “He’s evil .”

“You only think he’s evil because he flirts with Jack,” I tell him, before looking back at Toby. “He’s harmless. Just…forward.”

“Uh huh,” Leo folds his arms across his chest. “All I’m saying is now that he’s eighteen, he’s an adult and I will treat him as such.”

Toby snorts. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re about as scary as a kitten wearing a tutu, Leo.”

Leo sniffs. “I can’t believe I taught that kid how to contour and then he goes and looks prettier than me.”

“He doesn’t look—no.” I stop myself before I go down a rabbit hole I can’t climb out of. “No, we’re not going to objectify or belittle Joey when he’s not here to defend himself.”

Leo sighs. “Fine. That’s fair.” He cocks his head. “I’m mostly joking, anyway. Did he get into NIDA with Mia?”

Mostly joking. I want to laugh, but I manage to keep my composure.

“He didn’t, no. But he applied to UNSW Sydney for a Bachelor of Fine Arts majoring in Visual Arts and Media…or something like that,” I wince a little because I can never remember the exact name of his chosen degree, “and he got in, so he and Mia are going to share a place together with a couple of other students.”

“That must be stressful for you,” Toby says with empathy. He’s been raising his daughter as a single dad, too, which we bonded over when we were first introduced. “I’ll probably be a wreck when Vi moves out for uni.”

“You’ve still got a handful of years before that’s an issue,” Leo responds. “But, yeah, it would probably be a huge change.” He gives me a little smile. “But you’ve got Ev to keep you on your toes, at least.”

“He’s the biggest child of all of them,” I agree. “With the kids moving out, he’s started begging for a puppy.”

Leo groans. “Don’t let Huddy and Prez hear that. They’ve gotten sick of the cat and are back on the ‘can we have a dog, Dad?’ mantra.”

“Oh dear,” I commiserate, looking up at the pitch briefly as some of the spectators cheer. When I realise they’re cheering for the other team, I switch my attention back to Leo, “how are you distracting them from that?”

“Well, Hudson’s made a new friend at school this year. A little girl named Ava. He’s absolutely smitten, and he wants to do gymnastics classes with her. I’ve told him that he can do that instead of having a puppy.”

“And Preston?” I ask about Hudson’s twin. “He’s not interested in gymnastics?”

“No,” Leo sighs. “He’s going to be a tougher nut to crack. But, oh , get this: Ava’s dad is some former big name soccer player from the UK. Jack went a bit starry-eyed when we met him. It was cute. But, anyway, he’s apparently also the coach of the new Gold Coast soccer team. You know, the A-League one?”

“I…don’t actually follow the soccer,” I admit. “Ev’s lucky that I love him enough to come watch him play.”

Leo laughs and nods. “That’s fair enough. I watch it, but I don’t play it. But,” he grins widely, “Ava’s stepdad —yeah, I know, I was shocked, too, what with the whole soccer thing and all— her stepdad is the team captain.”

I blink. “Is that even allowed?”

“Apparently. I mean, nepotism happens in sport all the time. This is pretty much the same thing.”

Another cheer goes up and this time it looks like our team is close to getting a goal. We pause our conversation to watch the guys passing the ball and dodging the opposing players.

I have to admit, watching Ev run around all sweaty and in those shorts is actually kind of a turn on.

Then Ev gets the ball and passes it to Jack, then he makes a break towards goal and Jack crosses the ball back to him and Ev kicks it and holy shit , he actually gets it into the net, right over the goalie’s outstretched hand.

I push to my feet and cheer, only barely stopping myself from yelling out a proud ‘That’s my man!’ as the rest of us celebrate the point. When I check my watch and realise that there’s only another five minutes left, plus whatever stoppage time, I even get a little excited that my boyfriend might even have scored the winning goal.

“That was a fantastic bit of footwork,” Toby says, gesturing towards the pitch. “I can see why they switched up to the competitive games.

“I think their friend Brett basically begged them,” I nod, now more invested in watching the last few minutes play out. “His team was short a couple of members.”

“From memory, he’s the really competitive one, isn’t he?” Leo asks.

I nod. “Yeah. He’s obsessed with soccer. I think Ev said something about him originally wanting to play professionally, but he didn’t make it?”

“Hang on,” Toby interrupts with a frown, then he squints at the pitch, “I think I know that Brett guy. I think his kid goes to the school I teach at.” The way he says it does not sound complimentary. He looks back up at us. “The kid is great, but the dad’s a dick.”

“He didn’t seem awful the couple of times I’ve met him,” I shrug. “But it’s not like we had long chats, either.”

Toby shrugs. “Well, as long as he’s nice to your guys. And to Connor. Hey, Con,” he leans forward to talk to Connor, who is also on Jack and Ev’s social team, “what are your thoughts on the guy with the ponytail?”

“Which one?” he asks, leaning forward. “That Neville guy? Or Brett?”

I scan the pitch and realise there is another guy with his long-ish hair secured on top of his head in what might be classed as a ponytail if you squint. I’d call it more of a man bun, personally. However, he can’t be more than twenty-five if he was a day, and it’s fairly obvious Toby isn’t talking about him. All that aside, I do feel a bit guilty for not making more of an effort to get to know all the guys on the team. Leo obviously has.

Oblivious to my musings, Toby juts his chin in reply to Connor’s question. “The older one. With the actual ponytail.”

“Brett, then. Why?”

I tune them out as Toby launches into his ‘small world, even smaller city’ connection. I check my watch again and note that there are only a couple of minutes left on the official clock, and the other team haven’t scored yet. I jiggle my leg anxiously. I’ve never been this invested in the outcome of a soccer game before.

When the whistle finally blows, I launch to my feet, cheering and clapping for the winning team —Ev’s team— as they shake hands with the other team and then trail off the pitch.

We get out of our seats and head down to meet up with the players, who are guzzling from water bottles and wiping off sweat with gym towels. Not caring that my boyfriend is sweaty and gross, I launch at him, congratulating him for his goal.

“You’re proud of me, huh?” he asks playfully, and I nod, grinning.

I’m aware of some of the others looking our way and, even though soccer has a reputation for being homophobic, I don’t care what these men think. I’m riding on the high of watching my boyfriend win the game for them.

“It was hot. My boyfriend, the goal-kicker.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the young guy with the man-bun’s lips quirk up into a little smile as he wanders past us. Something in the expression fleetingly reminds me of Joey, but then Ev’s snort distracts me.

“Oh, I see how it is. Success turns you on, yeah?”

“Your success does, yeah.”

To be fair, everything about him turns me on. We’ve been together for over eighteen months now, and I still feel like we’re in the honeymoon period of our relationship. Honestly, though, I hope that feeling never fades.

“Well, I was gonna shower here, but maybe I’ll shower at home instead.” The words are accompanied by an eyebrow waggle. “Want to join me?”

I don’t need to be asked twice.

***

“Fuck,” Ev’s fingers tighten in my hair as water cascades down over us. His voice echoes off the tiles, and I have never been happier that the kids are adults off living their own lives right now. “Baby, your mouth…”

I hum around his cock, now well-versed in how he likes to be sucked off. With a slippery finger (or three) teasing his hole, he basically turns into a whimpering puddle of a man.

“You’re so good at that. So fucking good. I’ve created a monster,” he babbles, alternating between fucking into my mouth or onto my fingers. “ God , yes, there.”

My knees are starting to hurt from being on the hard tile of the shower floor for a few minutes now, but I’m enjoying watching him unravel far too much to stop.

As if he can read my mind, he starts muttering, “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

I hum around the dick in my mouth, and crook my fingers just right.

“Oh, fuck , baby…”

I’d be quite happy for him to finish down my throat and then return the favour, but when he whines, “Get up here and fuck me properly”, I can’t refuse him.

Pulling off his cock with an audible ‘pop’, I let him help me back up to my feet and then he slams his mouth on mine, shoving me back against the shower wall. The shower spray continues to rain down on us, and our skin glides together with just the right amount of friction.

“Where’s the lube?” I ask him when we part for breath.

He fumbles through the caddy for the little bottle and presses it into my hands.

“Swap places. Hands on the wall. Arse out,” I command, swatting the very sexy backside in question for emphasis.

“Fuck I love it when you take charge,” he tells me, and I grin, uncapping the bottle with a satisfying snap of the lid.

We ditched condoms not long after he was well and truly declared recovered from the accident, and I still don’t think I’ll ever get used to how amazing it feels to slide inside him. We both moan as my cock pushes in and breaches the rim, and then I take my time enjoying the warm, moist, tight clench of him around my cock as I inch all the way inside.

Reaching around him, I stroke his dick while I start to thrust, but I have a feeling I’m going to come before he does tonight. It’s always a gamble, and neither one of us ever walks away disappointed in the end, but I still tend to feel more accomplished if I make him come first.

There’s something about seeing and hearing him come undone that does it for me more than anything else. Given how my feelings for him started all those years ago, it’s possible that that’s always been my thing.

“God, I forgot how big you feel from this angle,” he moans and sticks his butt out further, bracing his palms on the tiled wall. “Like you’re going to make it to my damn belly button… fuck , yes, just like that.”

I grip his hips and slam as deep as I possibly can, making the water cascading over us splash and slap.

“You always feel amazing around my cock,” I pant, fucking in and out of him at an increasing pace. “So fucking tight. So hot. And this arse ” —I release one of his hips to squeeze a perfect, bronze-coloured globe— “fuck, it’s perfect, Ev.”

“Yes,” he babbles with every thrust inside him, “yes, yes, yes .”

“You were so hot kicking that goal tonight,” I tell him, “so hot running around out there in those — nnnghh — those clingy shorts. Showing off this” —I can’t help smacking his butt cheek— “perfect fucking arse.”

“Oh god! ” he cries and slaps the tiles. “D-do that again.”

“What?” I pant, because honestly I’m this close to blowing my load.

“Sm-smacking my butt. It felt—”

I slap the fleshy globe again, the sound echoing with the extra smack of the water between his cheeks and my hand.

“— fuck, baby .”

This is a new, but fun, discovery.

“Again?” I ask him and he nods.

I squeeze his backside before I smack it this time, and he arches his back and lets out an emphatic, “ Yes!”

He clenches around my cock with the same movement and I can’t smack him anymore because I’m practically going cross-eyed with pleasure. “Fuck, Ev. Fuck,” I grunt, reaching the point of no return, “fuck, you feel so good. I’m coming. I’m — nnnnghh .” I grind into him, coming as deeply inside him as I possibly can, wanting him to feel me for days.

Then, once the initial buzz fades and my brain kicks back into gear, I spin him around, drop back to my knees, and finish him off with my mouth.

It doesn’t take long for him to come, not with three of my fingers finding their way back inside him, using my cum for additional lube as I seek out his prostate and rub it over and over again.

With one hand yanking at the hair on my head and the other scrabbling for purchase on the slippery tiles behind him, he howls my name as he comes, pouring his hot release down my throat in a thick, rewarding wave of bliss.

Once he slips from my mouth, he slides down the wall to rest on the shower floor beside me.

We catch our breaths, and he swipes wet hair off my forehead, grinning. “I demand a reward like this for every game I win.”

I snicker and lean forward for a sweet kiss, allowing him to taste himself on my tongue. “Mmm,” I hum happily. “Seems reasonable to me.”

It’s not like I’m losing anything with that deal.

In fact, ever since he agreed to be my fake fiancé, it feels like all I’ve done since then is win.

The End.

***

Thank you so much for reading A Match Made In Evan . I giggled far too much while I wrote it, and I genuinely hope you enjoyed it.

I’d love it if you could leave a review on your retailer of purchase or wherever you read and write reviews.