Page 84 of Out of Bounds

“Is it okay if we focus on the art lesson today? I have my final project due, and I need some help with it.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He walked up behind Cliff and massaged his shoulders, which were so tight that he could stick a piece of coal between them and get a diamond. He couldn’t imagine the pressure Cliff had to feel as the new point guard.

“We’ll do a little drawing. We’ll eat some pizza.” Brennan kissed his neck. “We’ll relax.” Another kiss plus gentle stroking of his arms. “And see where the night takes us.”

Cliff stepped to the side, weaving out of Brennan’s grasp. The blush heating up his cheeks did not mesh with the tense look in his eye. “Let’s start with pizza.”

Brennan had trouble being around this ultra-tense version of his quasi-boyfriend. He was a balloon ready to pop. And maybe the pop needed to happen.

He tucked his hand into the waistband of Cliff’s jeans and pulled him close. His fingers danced in his crack.

“Maybe we need to help you release some post-game tension.”

Cliff vibrated against his touch. Brennan slunk his left hand down his firm, smooth cheek until his fingers grazed his tight hole.

“Brennan.” Cliff tried to pull away; Brennan pulled back on his jeans.

Brennan reached his right hand into his own pants and adjusted his swollen cock in its tightening quarters. He brought his hand up to Cliff’s nose to smell. Cliff turned away.

“Smell it.” He pressed his left fingers against his hole. Cliff gasped as his middle finger breached the surface.

Cliff inhaled the manly scent on Brennan’s fingers. He moaned into his hand, the hot breath sending an electric charge down his spine..

“Very good.” Brennan licked his lips. He rubbed the mound in his pants against Cliff. “Bend over the table.” Brennan squeezed his ass. “You want to have fun with the Blue Rocket? It’s time you got tag-teamed by both of us.”

“Picasso Middleton! Picasso Middleton!” Cliff called out like he was flagging down a cop.

Brennan stepped back, hands in the air.

Cliff put a hand on his neck to catch his breath. “I want to focus on drawing tonight.”

Brennan watched him take out his sketchpad and pencil, sit down, and adjust himself under the table. It was an odd sight to see someone reset as if nothing had happened.

“I was trying to help you release some tension. I know it’s been a wild week.” Brennan caressed his shoulder.

“Maybe you should wash your hands?”

Brennan gulped hard. “Yeah.”

As he washed his hands in the kitchen sink, he tried to determine what the hell was going on. He suspected it wasn’t the stress of basketball. Perhaps it was him. Perhaps all these feelings Brennan felt, and the sunny future he daydreamed for them was a one-sided fairy tale.

With clean hands, he loaded up their plates with pizza. Brennan figured it was best to sit across from him and resist the urge to play footsie.

“Let me see what you got.”

Cliff passed over his sketchpad. He had drawn an image of a single chair in the waning sun, a chair Brennan recognized from his dorm lounge. Their lessons had come through, with ample shading to show sunset.

“I know it’s just a chair, but I saw it when I came back to the dorm one afternoon, and it was striking.” Cliff passed over his phone, where the original image shined on the screen. He had a good eye for photography, too.

Brennan gave him advice for improving the shape of the chair and getting the angles right of the sunlight. Focusing on art helped keep his mind from straying to other thoughts.

“Congrats on the Columbus U. victory. Sorry I couldn’t make it. There was a guest speaker event that we were required to attend.” Brennan searched Cliff’s face to see if that was why he was mad. He had texted Cliff to let him know in advance.

“It’s okay.” Cliff bit into his food, completely unfazed. Did he even care if Brennan went to his games? He wasn’t making any sense tonight.

“Oh! Speaking of…” Brennan fished out theBrowerton Buglefrom his bag. “Meet Browerton’s New Freshman Hoops All-Star,” he read. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Cliff’s eyes popped up at the sight of the paper. “We don’t have to read it. I didn’t expect to go in for an…”