Long Pass Chronicles 01 - Outing the Quarterback (14 page)

Will looked over his shoulder. “You greasing a pig back there, beautiful?”

“No, just a very tight jockoid.”

Will nodded. “When you’re six three, nobody lets you bottom.” No way he wanted to admit he always paid for it.

“Yeah. I get it. People assume because I’m slim and have long hair that I want to bottom. Not my drug of choice.”

“You can top me anytime.”

Noah paused just that bit of time, and Will’s heart hammered. The Noah smirk flashed on his face. “Yeah. Don’t mind if I do.”

“Talk, talk. Action is required here.” His insides actually trembled, they wanted this so bad. Hard to look cool and relaxed.

“You want it?” He pulled out his finger.

“Yeah.” Will glanced back and saw Noah smoothing on a condom and squirting lube on his cock.

“You got it.” A blunt, cool head squishy with lube lined up with his hole. “Are you holding your breath?”

Was he? “Yeah, sorry.”

“Breathe out, baby.”

It started as a breath and ended on a sigh as Noah pushed his long, long cock into Will’s throbbing ass. Holy shit, he’d practically forgotten. Not cold and lifeless like a dildo, this was a hot, pulsing man. Will wanted to scream, shriek, cry with the joy of it. He just smiled.

Yes, that dick in his long-denied ass felt a lot like a hot poker, but he didn’t care.
Born to bottom, baby
. The pain hurt good.

Noah moved slowly in until his balls slapped Will’s thighs. That silky skin pressed on his butt and soothed him better than medicine.

Out, out, out. The walls of Will’s hole contracted, stinging like fire—and begging for more. Noah gave it to him. In harder, forcing the channel to give way, then back out, leaving only longing behind. “Harder.”

Noah just laughed.
Wham!
In to the balls, out to the tip, back in, then pound, pound. Every thrust sent lightning bolts of pain and pleasure into Will’s cock and brain. Both loved it. “Oh God, Noah. God. So great.”

“You like this, baby?” He slowed down and dragged his cock across every raw nerve.

“Hell, yeah.”

“Say it louder.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I like it.”

“Like it? Is that all?” Pound, pound.

“I love it, yes, love it.” His breath came so hard the words drowned in air.

“Can’t hear you.”

“I love it!” If Noah had neighbors with open windows, they just got an earful. Did not give a shit. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

“Baby, you’re a born bottom.” He thrust and Will’s prostate lit up like July fourth.

So glad he agreed.

“You love this dick in you, don’t you?” In, out. Slow then fast.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Your dick. I love your dick.”

Noah leaned over his back and grabbed Will’s cock. “And I love yours. Ready to come?”

“No. Want to fuck forever.”

“Give up football?”

“Anything. Give up anything.”

“You’re gonna be too sore.”

“Don’t care.”

Noah’s body trembled. Some battle seemed to be going on in his hips. They thrust and stopped, then froze. He sucked an inhale and it came out on a moan. “Can’t last another minute.” He cranked Will’s cock hard as he yelled. “Shiiiit. Oh, oh, oh.” His hips stuttered and his breath caught. Noah’s lips pressed against the back of Will’s neck and his pumping hand sped up. “Come. Come.”

Holy crap
. Noah still felt hard in Will’s ass, even after coming a river, and that hand on Will’s cock defined persuasion. Sparks turned to flames and lit up his groin. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh God!” Jism spilled out of him onto those pristine sheets.
Not so neat now, pretty boy
.
Oh shit.
He’d died and gone to heaven. Light-headed in the best possible way. Too good.

Noah stuck to his back as Will collapsed onto the narrow bed. The weight felt so wonderful. His ass felt so wonderful. His heart felt pretty damned good too. He’d made that cool, cynical artist with all the top experience lose it. Better than a fifty-yard pass.

His heart hammered against the bed while Noah’s beat against his back. It actually tickled. Will murmured, “We got a two-drum concert going on.”

“Yeah.” Noah’s chest expanded as he drew a breath; then he rolled and flopped on his back. His right shoulder hung off the bed.

Will turned on his side, tucked an arm over Noah, and pulled him closer. “Don’t want you falling off.” Actually, he missed the guy’s warmth and wanted him near.

Quiet. Breathing.
What to say now?

Noah chuckled. “Who’d have guessed you’d be a bottom? And such an enthusiastic one.”

Well, shit.
Will pushed up on his forearm.

Noah grabbed him. “That was no lie. I love it.”

Will collapsed back to the bed and stared into Noah’s blue, blue eyes.

Noah brushed hair off his forehead. The mane fell over his shoulder. He looked like a painting. “So what now?”

“You do have a way of getting to the point, Tas.” Will cocked an eyebrow.

“No time to play games. You’re the one with all the closets.”

Shit, yeah
. Will sighed and pushed up on his elbow, then to sitting. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to kill the afterglow?”

Noah shrugged. He flopped on his back. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow, so I can’t ask you to spend the night.”

“I have to go anyway.”

“Back into the closet.”

Will frowned. “You knew about me before you fucked me.”

“Yep. But your ass turned me on more than your made-up life turned me off.”

“I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”

Noah flashed that half smile. “Your choice.”

Will stared at the beautiful, scarred, cynical face. “Maybe you’re just too tough for me, Tas.”

The blue eyes riveted him. “Also your choice.”

Will breathed in slowly through his nose. Every hour of his lying life felt like a low ache in his heart. This was different. More like a knife or a big needle. Weird. He didn’t know this guy. He’d gotten what he wanted—a hot poke in the butt. But the desire to have Noah care about him beat like a pulse.

He unfolded himself from the bed and scooted to the floor. Noah didn’t move.

Pants with briefs inside went on first, then his sneakers, then his sweater. Only the sound of rustling clothing interfered with the silence.

He walked to the door. Should he look back? No way, he couldn’t. He turned his head. Noah lay with one arm curved above him on the bed. His lean body looked as relaxed as his cock. His eyes were watchful.

Will nodded. “Thanks. It was great.” He opened the door and walked out.

Cool air hit him and made him shiver, but it wasn’t as cold as his big exit.

N
OAH
STARED
at the ceiling. What the bloody, hella, living fuck had he just done?
You couldn’t give the guy a kiss, a kind word, a smile, for fuck sake?
Being the fucking cool guy who didn’t need anyone was more important than anything else? More important than Will?

He jumped up and ran to the door naked, threw it open, and stared out toward the street. No Ferrari. No Will. Just that fast, the best thing that had happened to him in a long time was gone. Should he call him? He sighed. What the fuck would he say? Nothing about their lives matched—except his cock in Will’s ass.

Crap, asshole, no wonder you’re always alone.

W
ILL
OPENED
the front door with his key. His body felt like he’d been beaten with a big stick. His ass hurt like fire, but it was a pinprick compared to his heart.

Dark except for lights from his father’s study down the hall. He walked to the staircase.

“Will?”

He sighed. “Yeah, Dad?”

“Come here, son.”

Shit
. He walked the few steps to the study door and looked in. His father sat at the desk with some papers in front of him and a glass of booze beside him. He looked up. “You’re late. Have a good night?”

“Yeah. I stopped at Jamal’s.”

“I’d like to meet his family sometime. You seem to like them a lot.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How was practice?”

So many lifetimes ago he couldn’t remember. “Fine.”

“I wanted to remind you about the company party on Wednesday. It’s at Jason’s house, but the company is catering, of course.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for telling me.”

His father smiled. “Bring Tiffany. It will be great to see her.”

He didn’t want to get into it. “Good night.”

“’Night.” His father returned to his papers, and Will headed for his room. Couldn’t get there fast enough.

He closed the door behind him and started throwing clothes until he got down to his boxer briefs. He pulled them off and pressed the cloth against his nose. The smell of spunk and Noah.
Oh God.
He fell onto the bed and held the cotton against his face.
You’re sick, man. Smelling your own drawers.
Still, there weren’t a lot of events in his life that compared to sex with Noah. Painting a great piece, maybe. It was a good thing he’d broken up with Tiffany. After finding what he was and what he wanted, no way could he settle for less.

He rolled on his side and dropped the briefs on the bed. He might be doing a lot of settling. The sex had been perfect—if you didn’t count the end. Tough not counting the end. Noah’s face as Will left didn’t exactly promise a lot of repeat action.

Noah was disappointed with him. Will got that. What could he do about it shy of throwing his whole fucking life over?

He flipped on his stomach. Was that what he should do? How would he start? He could walk downstairs right now and tell his father he was gay. What then? Would his father suddenly throw his arms up and declare, “Since you’re gay, son, why don’t you give up this football crap and become an artist?”

Yeah, right.

With a kick of his feet, he sat up. The problem wasn’t his father knowing Will was gay. The problem came after the confession. What did he plan to do next? Come out at school? Start dating Noah? Assuming Noah ever wanted to see him again. A wave of sick freedom washed over him.
Whoa
. How great to just be himself.

A picture flashed in his mind from the news a few years before. Greg MacNeil, soccer star. The guy had stood in front of the microphones and declared his homo status. Relaxed and confident. Poster boy for gay athletes everywhere. Yes, he had a boyfriend, and Greg couldn’t wait to bring him to the parade when they won the championship. But Greg never won the championship. Quietly harassed by half the players in the league, his tentative offer from the Galaxy dried up, and so did Greg. Finally he left LA with his lover, and the last Will heard, he lived in the desert with all the other fags.

Man, that eventuality sounded half great and half awful. He could just walk away, go somewhere else, become an artist, starve. No college degree. No art school. And probably no Noah.
Shit!
Growing up was crap. Of course for him, being a kid hadn’t been such a slam dunk.

His phone bonged. E-mail. Who sent e-mail? He sighed. Coach.

He grabbed his jeans off the floor, pulled out his phone, and hit the e-mail icon.
Well, shit.
Practice was starting three hours earlier tomorrow. That meant leaving art class early. Masterson wouldn’t like that. But if Will didn’t show up to practice on time, Coach would eat his ass. Rock, meet hard place. Totally symbolic, man.

Another ring. Text this time from Jamal. A link to YouTube. That was it. He started to click the link and stopped. Was this a good thing or a bad one? Jamal didn’t say.
No more bad shit!
He’d had enough for one day.

Hell
. He clicked it. Hascomb’s handsome face appeared against that stupid dungeon backdrop. “Hi, SCU-ers.” The asshole actually pronounced it like “scoo,” which drove Will nuts. The whole routine they’d done earlier about the team and what was great about it flashed on the screen just the way it’d gone down. Then it cut. The part where Hascomb asked about Will’s girlfriend and made his racist remarks had vanished. Instead, Dennis sat on his stool and faced the camera. “So I got some hot dirt for you after the cameras stopped rolling, SCU-ers. You ready?” He leaned closer to the camera, and a pimple on his chin showed up even on the little phone screen. “The guy most likely to be senior king, none other than my buddy Will Ashford, just split up with the girl most likely to be senior queen. That would be our own babe-alectable head cheerleader, Tiffany Baxter. Now what, or maybe I should say who, could possibly split up the power couple of the school? You heard it here, sports fans. That would be Jamal Jones’s sister. I have it on the best authority that she’s not only beautiful, she’s smart. Maybe we’ll all get a look at her when the term starts.” He smiled like a shark. “But stay tuned, SCU-ers, because I hear a rumor that the whole story isn’t in yet. What else could cause the split of such an ideal couple? Think about it until next time I see you right here in Dennis’s Den. Stay sexy.” The screen dissected into a bunch of other recommended videos.