Page 46 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

“Trav,” he grunts, digging his fingers into my hips and pulling me another inch closer so I can feel the hard swell of his cock against mine through our clothes. I groan and roll my hips. “Would you… Can we…”

“Yeah, baby, whatever you want. Just tell me.” I grab the bottom of his shirt and tug it up, running my hands greedily over his hairy abs and the firm mounds of his pecs. My palms drag over his stiff nipples and his hips jolt up underneath me, grinding his cock harder against mine again.

“I want you to fuck me.”

My cock jerks eagerly. I groan at the thought of feeling that impossibly tight heat around my dick instead of my fingers, and making him buck and moan as I find that spot inside him again and drive him out of his goddamn mind.

“Fuck,” I pant, our lips less than an inch apart, sharing humid air as our noses bump and our hands keep moving with a mind of their own, like we’re both trying to memorize every inch of each other before the night is over. “Are you sure? We haven’t even talked about what any of this is and we only kissed for the first time last night. Seems kind of fast to go from that to getting dicked down, right?”

I don’t know why I’m trying to talk him out of it. I guess I just want to make sure he’s not being too Beau about this whole thing, doing what he thinks I want just to make me happy.

“I’ve already decided to save my whole sexual identity crisis for the plane ride tomorrow, so we might as well make the most of it tonight.”

I laugh and catch his mouth in another kiss, both of us fumbling with the buttons on my shirt until I give up and just rip the last few open. I hear one go skittering across the hardwood floor as I shrug my shirt off and fling it away blindly. We break the kiss long enough for me to pull Beau’s t-shirt the rest of the way over his head, and then I stumble to my feet. He’s right behind me, standing up and crowding into my space. We fall right back into the kiss, hands roaming and tongues sliding against each other.

Beau undoes my belt as he walks me backward down the hallway to my bedroom. Just like on the ice, we find a way to be completely in sync, moving as a finely tuned unit, anticipating each other’s moves before either of us makes them.

We shed our pants and underwear just inside my room, and Beau grips my ass, pulling me against him, bare skin to bare skin, hard cock to hard cock. I moan into his mouth and he answers with a muffled, horny sound that settles in the pit of my stomach and tugs at my balls. I cant my hips, dragging my throbbing cock against his. His tip catches mine and a wet burst of his precum slicks my crown.

We tumble into bed, and he braces himself so he doesn’t crash into me full force. Fuck that, I want full force. I want to feel him crushing me into the mattress. I want Beau. I dig my fingers into his shoulders and pull him down until he takes the hint and sinks his full body weight on top of me. He’s massive and hard all over, his body hair tickles my skin in random places, and his cock finds mine again as I wrap my legs around him.

Until the past few weeks, I never thought about what two guys would do together in bed, aside from the obvious. And it’s clear now that I wasn’t getting creative enough, because this, us lost in a tongue-heavy kiss, humping our hard cocks against each other, never crossed my mind, but it’s better than any of the other sex I’ve had in my life. Maybe that’s just because it’s Beau though. Everything has always been better with Beau; I guess it makes sense that sex would be too.

“Fuck, Trav,” he groans, rolling his hips and panting against my lips. “I gotta stop or I’m going to come like this.” He laughs breathlessly, but doesn’t stop grinding his cock against mine.

“Then let’s come like this,” I rasp. “I’ll fuck you another time.”

Like I accidentally pressed a pause button, we both go still, staring at each other in the darkness, our chests heaving, our bodies completely wrapped around each other. Another time… Will there even be one? Maybe that’s exactly what we both need though—a promise that there will be, something to hold on to.

Beau nods and we sink into another kiss, a little slower this time. He matches his thrusts to the steady, deep drag of his tongue against mine, and we get lost in each other. Tomorrow doesn’t exist, hockey doesn’t exist, it’s just the two of us, tangled up in each other, trading unintelligible words and muffled sounds. Our precum mixes and his balls swing against mine with every thrust. The heat in my gut gets tighter and tighter, my toes curling against his calf and my breathing getting shallower as we move together, grinding, touching, fucking even if there isn’t any penetration.

Beau makes a strangled sound and snaps his hips faster, pressing me into the mattress with his weight. It’s the hot, sticky burst of his cum splashing onto my cock that sends me over the edge, arching up underneath him as my balls clench and I start to come in hard, pulsing waves. We moan into each other’s mouths, still locked in a clumsy, panting kiss, our shared cum mixing and slicking both our cocks as we continue to hump and thrust, savoring every last shudder of pleasure that’s shared between the two of us until we collapse in a sweaty heap.

“Fuck,” I mutter, and he nods in agreement, then makes a move to roll off of me. I dig my fingers into his bicep though to keep him from going anywhere. I don’t care if I can’t breathe, I need to feel him.

There are a million things I want to say to him. I want to tell him not to fuck anybody in Chicago. I want to beg him to help me figure out a way that we can stay together. I want to ask him if he wants to move up that scheduled sexual identity crisis so we can hash it out together right now. Instead, I just rake my fingers through his sweat damp hair and listen to him breathe for a few minutes until my stomach growls.

“We have pizza,” he reminds me.

I’d rather stay right here forever, in my bed, sticky with each other’s cum, pretending nothing else is real. But I guess that’s not really an option.

“Yeah, alright.”

He climbs off of me and we both shuffle into my en suite bathroom to clean ourselves up. On our way back through my bedroom, I stop and grab my briefs from the pile of our clothes right inside the door, and pull them on, leaving my suit pants in a crumpled heap. Beau does the same, but slings his sweats over his shoulder. We settle on the couch and I put on a movie without even paying attention to what it is.

“Oh, I think this is your shirt, by the way.” Beau picks up the t-shirt off the floor and holds it out to me while I open the pizza box.

“Keep it.”

He nods and hangs the t-shirt and his sweats over the arm of the couch. I hand him a slice of pizza and he takes it. He slings his free arm over the back of the couch and I settle in close to him.

“You played like shit tonight, by the way,” he says.

“Well, yeah, I was a little distracted.”

“That’s no excuse, Show-Off.” He smirks at me and my heart flutters and sinks at the same time. “Get it together and try to save this season, because I hear the Huskies have a new defenseman and they’re looking to make a run for the cup.” Beau steals my signature move and winks.

I chuckle because that’s better than crying. “I’ll try.”