By the time he was finished putting his things away in his locker, he couldn’t find Fletcher anywhere in the room.
Whatever. Taylor grabbed his duffel bag and headed out to the parking lot with his keys in his hand. He did a quick scan only to find that Fletcher’s car was no longer there. And for some reason, the absence of Fletcher’s car registered in Taylor’s mind as an invitation to keep playing the game. He was telling Taylor to come chase him, just like that night in Boston.
* * *
Taylor didn’t know what he was thinking as he pulled outof the stadium lot and drove straight to Fletcher’s apartment. What the hell was he doing? He pulled into the parking garage and took the elevator up, marching down the hallway until he reached Fletcher’s front door. He pounded on it a few times before a shirtless Fletcher opened with a winning look on his face.
He didn’t say a word as he stepped by to let Taylor in. Taylor quickly stepped out of his shoes and followed Fletcher into his bedroom like a dog being walked. And he didn’t even care.
“Take your shirt off and kneel down by the bed,” was the first thing he said to Taylor.
With zero hesitation, Taylor quickly pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor. Fletcher walked over to the foot of his bed and stood there, waiting for Taylor to come over and kneel.
Taylor looked at him with a primal light in his eyes as he stepped in front of Fletcher and kneeled. The moment he dropped to his knees he wrapped his arms around Fletcher’s ass and pressed his face into Fletcher’s groin. Nuzzling him. He was already bulging and begging to be let out.
“Take it out,” Fletcher commanded impatiently. He said it in a way like he had already expected Taylor to do it by now.
He tugged down Fletcher’s pants and groaned when he realized Fletcher wasn’t wearing any underwear. He gripped the base of Fletcher’s cock and took him fully down his throat. His other hand cupped Fletcher’s balls and lightly squeezed.
Fletcher ran his hands through Taylor’s hair as he thrusted into Taylor’s throat. Taylor gagged as Fletcher fucked his throat. “Relax your throat,” Fletcher told him assertively as he roughly slapped Taylor’s cheek. Taylor let out a grunt.
Taylor had too much on his mind to fucking relax, but hedesperately needed some sort of release. He needed Fletcher. And fuck, this was probably the hottest thing ever.
Fletcher continued to thrust as he gripped Taylor’s hair harder and tugged on it. “Take your cock out and stroke it. You’re not coming in your pants,” Fletcher told him huskily. Taylor was about to finish right there if Fletcher kept on speaking to him like that. Honestly, he was so focused on sucking Fletcher off that he didn’t even remember he was hard himself. Taylor’s free hand pulled his dick out and he started to pump himself. Fletcher was so full in his mouth. He nearly choked as his head hit the back of his throat. It made his eyes water.
“I’m gonna come down your throat,” Fletcher bit out. Taylor lightly grazed Fletcher with his teeth as he moved in and out of his mouth, causing Fletcher to grunt. He began picking up the pace of his jerking as he was nearing completion.
Taylor began to breathe erratically as he spurted into his own hand. Fletcher quickly shot his load down Taylor’s throat as his body grew rigid. He pulled out of Taylor’s mouth, and he gripped his jaw and squeezed, forcing Taylor’s mouth open. Fletcher leaned down, and Taylor thought he was going to kiss him. Instead, Fletcher spit into Taylor’s mouth before letting go and walking away, leaving Taylor still on his knees at the foot of his bed.
Taylor closed his mouth and swallowed it all as Fletcher walked back over to him with a warm, wet rag. He bent down and grabbed Taylor’s right hand to wipe the cum from it.
He was extra thorough as he gently cleaned off Taylor’s hand. But then he left Taylor again, leaving the rag in his hand. “Come out into the living room when you’re done,” he said before disappearing.
Taylor used the rag to clean the corners of his mouth beforedropping it into Fletcher’s dirty laundry hamper. He noticed how clean Fletcher’s room was. Not a single item of clothing on the floor and the bed had been made perfectly. The room lacked personality and it felt more like a hotel room. Fletcher had been in Seattle for months now but still his room looked like this. Generic and impersonal. Taylor wanted to know why.
As he walked out into the living room, he noticed it was also very generic.
Fletcher looked up at him as he saw Taylor come out. He crooked his finger at Taylor and beckoned him to join him on the couch. Taylor walked over to sit next to him, but Fletcher reached up and pulled Taylor into his lap. Taylor wrapped an arm around the back of Fletcher’s head as Fletcher cupped his jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. He loved the way Fletcher tasted. He moved his tongue over Fletcher’s, earning himself a whimper that escaped from Fletcher’s throat.
Taylor exhaled through his nose as he ran his hand through Fletcher’s hair, still damp from the shower. He didn’t realize how much he had missed kissing him until he was.
Fletcher broke the kiss and leaned back to look at Taylor. “We’re not going to keep pretending,” he told him, sounding like he’d thought this over for a while now. “And you’re going to spend the night tonight. With me.” Taylor’s chest tightened.
“We can’t,” Taylor replied with a hint of reluctance and disappointment in his voice. They couldn’t keep doing this. It was wrong. And confusing. It made Taylor think of Fletcher in ways he shouldn’t. It made him have conflicting feelings about his best fucking friend. Feelings that you should never have for a friend or a teammate.
All Taylor knew was that he needed to kiss him again. He cupped Fletcher’s jaw and leaned down to kiss him again.Fletcher pulled away for a minute and locked eyes with him.
“Taylor,” he said softly. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Taylor couldn’t tell if he really meant it. Taylor swallowed. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. “It doesn’t mean anything. We’re friends, right?”
It didn’t make any sense. Taylor wasn’t gay. He had never been attracted to men. But Fletcher was probably the most beautiful looking person he’d ever laid his eyes on. In a way that made him want to make Fletcher his. He couldn’t.
“It’s just hooking up,” Fletcher said nonchalantly. But Taylor didn’t entirely believe Fletcher truly saw it that way. It sounded like Fletcher was still trying to convince himself.
“Fletcher, I don’t think it is. It’s been screwing with my head,” he said honestly. He could swear he saw Fletcher’s bottom lip quiver. And just because he hated the sight of it, Taylor kissed him again. So tender, so soft. A kiss that told Fletcher everything he needed to know about how Taylor was truly feeling. “Friends don’t kiss,” Taylor whispered as he pulled away. He was fully aware that he was being such a hypocrite.
“Maybe best friends do,” Fletcher rebutted, sounding stubborn. Taylor shook his head. They definitely didn’t.
“Fletcher,” Taylor protested softly. Why was he making this so difficult?
