Page 23 of Drop the Gloves

Though he supposed Walker had apologized, something Barczyk never had. That counted for something.

Except he’d also called Evan out for being a wimp.

It’d been like a slap to the face. Walker had never said anything about it to Evan during the literal years they’d played together.

Had he thought it was a problem the whole time and that the rest of them were picking up his slack?

Did others think that but weren’t going to say anything?

Fuck.

Abernathy

Hey you have time for another fighting lesson before we travel?

Barczyk

OFC

We could do Tuesday after practice

Just don’t punch my face it’s sore lol

Don’t want to go into Wednesday’s game with a shiner

Abernathy

Tuesday’s good. Thanks. I won’t punch your face.

Team gym?

Barczyk

* * *

Evan squared his feet and swung his right fist. Barczyk deflected it so that Evan’s hand only grazed his chest.

“Your punches are looking better,” Barczyk said. “You might be ready for the big leagues soon.”

“Thanks.” Evan tried to sneak another one in while Barczyk was distracted, but he missed and Barczyk jabbed him in the ribs. “Maybe not,” he grumbled. When they’d started this whole lessons thing, Evan had seen every near hit as a sign of improvement; now he saw them as misses and hated it.

“You’ll never be a prizefighter, but you won’t look tragic.” That stupid grin with the missing tooth. Evan’s heart fluttered; he got distracted and Barczyk punched him in the gut. “Ha!”

Evan’s cheeks flushed. They’d been going at it for an hour, and he’d managed not to get hit full on until now. And it wasn’t like he had anyone to blame for it but himself and his stupid weakness for Barczyk’s stupid face.

“It’s all right, Abs,” Barczyk said. “There's no shame in losing to the best—oof!”

Evan tackled Barczyk to the ground. He enjoyed Barczyk’s undignified squawks as Evan punched him with the padded gloves.

It was one of those rare moments when he’d turned the tables on Barczyk, and Evan was smiling as he pressed his advantage.

He should’ve never underestimated Barczyk, though: soon it wasn’t boxing gloves pushing back against him, but bare fingers tickling his stomach and along his sides.

“Fuck!” Evan jerked away, which only gave more room for Barczyk to attack. Evan squirmed and tried to roll away, but Barczyk followed. “Not”—he heaved a strangled breath between laughs—“fair!”

“Says the guy who tackled me,” Barczyk said, mercilessly working his way up to Evan’s armpits.

Evan desperately worked the boxing gloves off so he could defend himself.

He got one off and flung it aside, using his free hand to remove the other glove.

Finally, he could retaliate: he grabbed Barczyk’s wrists one by one, took a deep breath without giggling, and flung his weight so that he could roll on top of Barczyk and trap him.

And suddenly, Evan’s brain caught up with where his body was, and it sucked the air out of him.

It was like the last time but in reverse, with Evan firmly pinning Barczyk down. A low thrum of arousal had been buzzing under his skin since they’d stepped into the gym; he was hard within seconds.

“I—” Evan started, determined to end this and try to salvage his dignity.

How could he have gotten himself into this mess again?

But before he could voice any sort of excuse or apology, two strong legs wrapped around his waist and shifted him so his cock was pressed against Barczyk’s rapidly hardening one.

Evan shuddered and closed his eyes just so he could take it in.

“You can move,” Barczyk said, his voice low and husky and delicious. He rolled his hips to demonstrate the point. They both groaned in unison, and Barczyk whined, “Please move, fuck.”

So Evan did. He thrust down against Barczyk, sending a bolt of pleasure through him that he heard Barczyk echo in his ear.

“More,” Barczyk said, and Evan was helpless to do anything else. He thrust down again and again, finding a rhythm. His bare feet kept slipping on the mat, but Barczyk’s legs tightened around him to keep him in place. “Fuck, Abs. Keep going.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Evan bit out as he ground down.

He buried his face in the crook of Barczyk’s neck, smelling his musky scent and tasting the salty tang of his skin.

Shifting his weight so his left hand was free, Evan wound it through Barczyk’s hair.

He felt a curl wrap around his finger and shuddered.

“No,” Barczyk said, though Evan couldn’t remember what he was answering.

“Shut me up, why don’t you?” And then he pulled Evan’s head so they were nose to nose.

Evan had a split second to realize what was happening before Barczyk mashed their lips together, no hint of finesse in the kiss, just raw need.

Startled, it took Evan a moment to kiss back, but when he did, he answered Barczyk’s need with his own.

There were too many sensations, so many that Evan could no longer pull apart each individual piece.

The rough slide of their dicks together.

Barczyk breathed heavily beneath him. His hand still twisted in damp curls.

Their lips and tongues pressed together.

Barczyk’s legs wrapped around him like Evan was the one trapped.

Evan broke the kiss as he reached the edge, a gasp twisting out of him as his vision whited out.

His skin tingled in the aftermath, his cock still pulsing even though he was already spent.

As out of it as he was, he heard Barczyk groan and arch against him as he came.

Evan rolled off of Barczyk before collapsing in a boneless heap next to him.

“Fuck,” Barczyk hissed.

Evan grunted in agreement.

“That was fun, Abs.” Barczyk’s voice wavered, but it was steady when he spoke again. “Could you let go of my hair, though?”

Evan’s hand jerked, and he realized he’d been clutching a fistful of Barczyk’s curls. He let go and pulled his hand away, surprised and a little pleased at the indent his hand had left in his hair. Then embarrassment flooded him when he realized how out of it he’d been.

“Sorry,” he said.

Barczyk shrugged as he sat up. “No biggy.” He ran his hands through his hair, sending a few drops of sweat flying.

When he was done, there was no sign Evan’s hand had been there at all.

He leaned over Evan, and Evan’s heart raced as he anticipated a kiss.

He didn’t think he could handle one now that the lust had ebbed and panic was threatening to settle in.

But instead, Barczyk only patted Evan’s cheek before pushing off the ground, and Evan found he was disappointed.

“Ugh, I ruined these shorts,” Barczyk said more to himself than Evan but looked over his shoulder and winked. “Worth it.”

Evan lay there, trying so hard to even out his breathing so he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of what had happened. “Yeah,” he agreed, because he felt like he should say something but wasn’t willing to commit to anything more serious than that.

A towel landed on his face. Evan jolted upright, clutching the towel tightly as he watched Barczyk walk out of the gym.

“I’ll shower first,” he called. “Maybe wait a couple of minutes before you make an appearance.” And then Barczyk was gone, and Evan was alone in the gym, once more wondering how the heck things had gotten so out of hand…and if he minded.