Page 20 of Breakaway Goals

Hayes didn’t trust himself to speak. He only wanted to feel. Pressed his lips against Morgan’s stomach, feeling the muscles clench as he did, tongue trailing down to the waistband of his boxer briefs, saliva soaking the fabric as he shifted lower.

Everything narrowed in to just the feel of Morgan underneath him, the taste of him heavy on his tongue, the way his cock twitched as Hayes trailed his fingers up its hard length.

“Shit, baby, please,” Morgan begged.

Morgan begged .

Hayes couldn’t deal with that right now, couldn’t even begin to contemplate what that meant now, and what that meant for the future.

So he didn’t think about it at all.

Let his focus narrow down to just Morgan and making him feel good.

He finally pulled down his boxer briefs, and they both moaned the moment Hayes got his mouth on his cock.

It was so easy to lose himself in it, a tunnel vision of taste and touch and feel as Morgan’s hands buried themselves in his hair, rhythmically clenching and releasing as Hayes took him deeper. He choked a little, unable to take it all but wanting to, so desperately.

“Feels so good, baby,” Morgan murmured, voice rough. His hand slipped down, cupped Hayes’ cheek, tender and affectionate.

Hayes groaned around his cock. The tenderness shouldn’t be as much of a turn-on as the rest of it, but it was.

He was only seconds away from pressing a hard palm against his own dick, aching and desperate for something, when Morgan gave a little aborted groan, fingers tightening in his hair again, and he came down Hayes’ throat.

Hayes swallowed around him, panting as he finally let Morgan’s softening cock slip from his lips. Pressing his lips to Morgan’s thigh, he tried to catch his breath.

Tried to re-orient himself back to the place where this was just a hookup, and Morgan wasn’t staring at him like he was the moon and the sun and the stars.

The same fucking way you’ve always looked at him .

It was a problem, but it was an easy enough problem to push away, to pretend didn’t exist at all, when Morgan was pulling him up, flipping them and tugging Hayes’ underwear off. Hand hot and insistent on Hayes’ dick as pleasure spiraled through him.

“That feel good?” Morgan crooned, his gaze so intent on Hayes’ face.

Hayes nodded. It felt fucking incredible, and he still wanted more. Wanted to gorge himself, even if he wasn’t sure he’d ever be full.

“Bet this would feel even better,” Morgan said, dipping his head low, sucking just the head of his cock into his hot mouth.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hayes knew he was babbling now, probably sounding nearly incoherent with it.

And then Morgan’s thumb, wet with saliva, slipped lower, pressing right against his hole, and Hayes groaned.

He hadn’t even wanted to bring up anything more than they were doing. First off, because the stuff they were doing was so excruciatingly good, and second, because there was a part of him, buried and shameful, that was afraid he’d scare Morgan away. That he’d make it “too gay.”

But of course, Morgan had no qualms about this. Just lifted his head and met Hayes’ eyes. “Do you like this?” he asked, direct with zero fuss whatsoever. No pressure, like Hayes had to, or like it would be a problem if he said yes.

Hayes nodded.

“You gotta say it, baby, out loud, okay?”

That shouldn’t have been so hot either, but Hayes felt like he was burning up inside at how good Morgan was. Careful but pushy. Tender but strong. Everything he’d ever wanted in a partner, and there it was, in the last place he’d ever expected to look.

You can’t think about that now.

He couldn’t really, anyway, because Morgan was pushing a finger inside him, and it was lighting Hayes up inside.

“Wanna make you come so hard.” It was unclear if Morgan was saying that to Hayes—or himself. Or if it even mattered.

The sentiment was enough, and then Morgan hit that spot inside him at the same time as he sucked hard on the head of his cock, and Hayes was gone . His orgasm surged through him with a strength that had him whiting out.

When he finally came back down to earth, slowly blinking his eyes open, Morgan was staring at him with a very smug look on his face.

“God, that was so hot,” Morgan said. “ You’re so hot.”

Hayes covered his face with his hands. It wasn’t shame exactly. It wasn’t even embarrassment at how much he’d enjoyed it. It was like he was broken open, everything exposed to the air now and to Morgan’s perusal, and he couldn’t hope to hide it anymore.

“Don’t do that,” Morgan chided gently and pried Hayes’ hands off his face. “I like looking at you.”

How was Hayes not supposed to melt into an absolute puddle of goo at that?

“I like looking at you, too,” Hayes admitted.

Morgan propped his head up on his hand. “I don’t want to make things weird . . .”

“You’re worried about that now ?” Hayes chuckled under his breath.

“Fair.” Morgan licked his lips. Hayes wanted to lean in and kiss him again. Not think about whatever it was Morgan wanted to do that might make this whole thing more difficult than it already was.

“How much would you freak out if I said I didn’t want to go?” Morgan finally asked.

“Tonight?” Hayes tried not to freak out, but he was, and it was hard to hide.

Morgan nodded. “I know it’s not really a hookup kind of thing, but I don’t want to go. I’m . . .I like being here with you. Like this. It makes it . . .” He took a deep breath. “It makes some of this easier.”

It suddenly occurred to Hayes that as much pressure as he felt, in this tournament, it had to be tenfold for Morgan.

He hadn’t been on a national team in years and now Morgan was here as the captain, expected to bring home the gold for Team USA. Nevermind all the baggage about how Morgan felt about nearing the end of his career and being forced to confront it, because of Hayes’ presence here.

Honestly, because of that Hayes shouldn’t even be that person for Morgan—the one who made the burdens easier to carry—but it seemed like he was, anyway.

“You make it easier too,” Hayes said and he took a chance, half-nuzzling into Morgan’s shoulder.

They weren’t cuddling exactly but close enough.

Close enough that Hayes wasn’t even sure what else he’d call it.

“That shouldn’t be true,” Morgan said softly, “but it is.”

For the first time, Hayes let himself really seriously think about what this might have been if they didn’t play on opposite sides of the country.

But they did, there was no reason to believe that might change anytime soon and, as a result, there was only so far it could go, unless they were considering long-distance a viable possibility.

“Yeah,” Hayes agreed. Wondered, also for the first time, if he should say something. They’d both seemed happy enough to keep it just sex, a fun hookup, at first, but now things were deepening. Changing.

Maybe it was like Danny said—the first overall thing, rearing its head. Or maybe it was something else.

“You should stay,” Hayes continued before he could stop himself. “If you want to.”

“I want to,” Morgan said.

And that something else reared up again, insistent and undeniable, at least until Hayes pushed it away.

Something else was a problem for a different day, for a Hayes who’d already been through the next game, the championship game.

Not a Hayes who just wanted to fall asleep to Morgan’s steady breathing.