Page 7 of Loosened Up for My Bud

I avoid Stone like the plague, but he’s always there. A looming presence on the sidelines. A flash in my peripheral vision. A knowing smile that I feel more than see. He’s in my head now. Under my skin. Inside me, in more ways than one.

“Alright, that’s a wrap!” Coach shouts, finally blowing the whistle for the last time. “Good work today, boys! Hit the showers!”

I’ve never been so grateful to hear those words. I’m already halfway to the locker room before the team’s even started moving. I’m a mess. Exhausted, sweat-soaked, and so painfully aroused I can barely walk straight.

“Hey, hold up!” Stone calls, jogging to catch up with me. He claps a heavy hand on my shoulder, and I flinch. “We’ve still got the post-practice inspection to do.”

“I’m not doing that here,” I hiss, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening. “Let’s do it back in our room.”

“You don’t mind keeping that thing in a little longer? Thought you’d be in a hurry to get it out.”

“Made it this far. What’s another ten minutes?”

He gives me a curious look. “Alright. Back in the room it is.”

5

The second the door clicks shut behind us, I start shedding my sweaty, dirt-streaked gear, leaving a trail from the door to my bed. Cleats, shoulder pads, jersey, football pants.

“Alright, let’s just get this over with,” I say, standing there in just my compression shorts. My cock is still semi-hard, so I angle my body away from Stone.

“Someone’s eager,” he says, kicking off his own cleats. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

It was so much more. That’s the problem. But that’s one secret I’m taking to the grave.

“Just check so we can wrap this up. That pile on the floor is your first load of laundry, by the way.”

“Eager and demanding. Damn.” He grins. “Alright, bend over, big boy.”

The command lands differently this time. I don’t know why. The authority in his voice, being alone now, the memory of him on top of me on the field... Something about it makes my skin prickle. This is our room. We’ve lived here for three years. We’ve seen each other at our worst—hungover, sick, heartbroken,stressed out. This should be nothing. Just another ridiculous moment in a long line of them.

But I’ve never felt this naked in front of him before. Not even when we were actually naked.

I take a deep breath and bend over the side of my bed, pulling my compression shorts down just enough to expose the purple base. The movement makes it shift inside me, and I have to bite my lip to stop a gasp. My hands brace against the mattress, clenched into fists.

I hear him approach. The soft thud of his bare feet on the floor. Then silence. He’s standing behind me, just looking. The back of my neck burns. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says. “You actually made it through a whole practice with that thing buried in your ass.”

“That was the bet.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Honestly thought you’d bail halfway through. Ditch it in the locker room or something.”

“I don’t back down from shit. You know that.”

He’s still standing there. Close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him.

“Looks like it’s still in there good and tight,” he says. “Bet that feels fucking weird, doesn’t it?”

“Are we done?” I start to straighten up. “You checked. I won. Now you do my laundry, and I get the chair.”

“Hold on.” His hand lands on my lower back, keeping me bent over. “Let me take it out for you.”

“What? No. I can do that myself.”

“You can, but why would you? Winner gets the spoils, right? Consider this part of your prize. A complimentary de-plugging service.”

“Awhat?”