Quentin had stood in the shower after jerking off until his water started to lose its heat, and then he’d realized he should probably get out and dry off.
He’d barely put a towel on before he heard Joel’s knock on the door, and now he was deeply regretting the fact that he was almost naked. Joel was wearing a simple black outfit, but it showed off the lean muscles of his arms and legs, and Quentin worried that he would get a boner beneath his towel.
He couldnotlet Joel see that.
Joel swallowed, trying to think about anything that wasn’t sexy, and followed Quentin into his hotel room. It was smaller and simpler than the rooms Joel usually stayed in, but it was still nice. It had two beds.
“Sorry,” Quentin said again. “I must’ve lost track of time. I’ll get dressed quickly.” He was at the bed closer to the door, sifting through a suitcase for some clothes.
Joel tried not to stare, but it was hard.
Quentin had a gorgeous body, shaped by years of being a professional athlete. He was bulkier than Joel, with wide shoulders and broad pecs, biceps that rounded when he bent his arms, and a muscular back that tapered into a narrow waist. His abs were thick and rippled, and his tightly-wrapped towel showed off his shapely ass.
Joel wasnotdoing a good job of not staring at Quentin.
Quentin pulled a pair of gray sweatpants and a Boston Minutemen T-shirt out of his suitcase. “One sec,” he said, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Joel took the moment to go to the window and try to distract himself. He didnotwant to think about the fact that Quentin was in the bathroom, probably naked, as he changed into clothes.
“Okay, I’m decent.”
Joel turned. Quentin was positivelyindecentin his T-shirt and sweatpants. If only Quentin knew the effect gray sweatpants had on Joel, and the way that the sweatpants were making the outline of his cock very visible.
Quentin felt a little wicked for choosing gray sweatpants. He knew theexacteffect that they had on him, and if he’d been going for “unsexy,” he could’ve chosen literally anything else. But…he’d chosen these. And he’d chosen not to wear underwear under them. He told himself that it was because sweatpants were more comfortable when you went commando, but the little voice in his head told him he was full of shit. He was wearing gray sweatpants without underwear because, when he walked, his cock moved and it was very apparent in the sweatpants.
He was comfortable in his body and comfortable with nudity. He saw his teammates naked all the time, and they saw him naked almost every day. It wasn’t a sexual thing at all. It was just the fact of practically living in locker rooms. He also told himself that he was dressed like this because it was something he was comfortable in, and he’d wear a similar outfit with his teammates and friends without thinking twice.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked.
Joel looked distracted by something outside. “Um, I’m not sure. Were you going to watch anything specific?”
Quentin picked up the TV guide. “These are the channels. Or we could rent something.” He went to sit on his bed. Joel still stood near the window, looking unsure of what to do or where to go. Quentin wondered if he’d made a mistake inviting Joel here.
“You can sit down,” he offered, and Joel glanced up. He’d been reading the TV guide like it was a college thesis.
“Oh, right,” Joel said.
Quentin moved over on his bed. What was hedoing,indicating that Joel could sit with him on his bed?
His pulse was quick, his common sense shutting off, and he worried that he’d get a boner in his sweatpants.
Joel came to the bed and sat next to him.
Joel struggled to get his breathing under control. Quentin looked sinfully appealing in his sweatpants, and Joel was pretty damn sure that Quentin wasn’t wearing underwear under them. It was probably an unconscious choice. Quentin was a jock, and he was naked all the time with his teammates.
He definitely wasn’t trying to seduce Joel or send him a message.
Stop trying to send Joel a message,Quentin told himself irritably as he flicked through channels on the TV. They were sitting as far away from each other on the bed as they could without falling off, and Quentin was doing his best to stare straight at the TV and not at Joel.
They settled on an action movie from the early 2000s, and then decided to order a pizza, which Joel said he would eat but that Quentin couldn’t breathe a word to Shivonne and Harlan.
Quentin saw a chance.
“So, Harlan,” he said. “Seemed like he was interested in my friends Henri and Cort.”
Joel laughed. “I’d say so. He spent the night with them, right?”
“He did.”
