TheBlarneyBone: So peachy! I wanna lick ur ass…… then pummel that peach pie hole
MeatMan: Make me your chia pet and smear your seed all over me
Distraction is something I’ve gotten very good at over the years.
A skill I learned to hone when I was just a kid. Enduring stuff that makes me uncomfortable while pretending I’m not is a bit of an art form for yours truly.
The key is forcing yourself to focus on other things. The more uncomfortable you are with the thing you’re avoiding, the more you’ll need to immerse yourself in the distraction.
I think that’s why I’ve always been so good at school. It’s not that I necessarily care about the subjects… Math, science, history… None of it is particularly titillating to me. But it’s something to fixate on; something else to get lost in, like the dirt and the shovel used to bury the thing you don’t want clawing its way to the surface.
The curriculum for undergrad business studies is pretty involved, and it’s good. A lot of my teammates struggle to balance schoolwork and football, what with our rigorous training, game schedules, and how often we have to travel. But for them, sports and partying are their primary focuses, and for me… well, that’s just not enough.
I fill in the gaps with my studies, because I have to.
Keep the mind distracted at all times. Never, ever stop to think. Because thinking is bad.
Thinking leads to remembering… And remembering is the enemy.
The way the light is hitting my books on the coffee table strikes an idea, for another one of my favorite distractions. And I pick up my phone, snapping a picture to post on Instagram.
Knowledge is the antidote to fear.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
#BC #collegelife
Posted, I stare at the screen for a moment as likes start rolling in. My eyes flit to the top, and the notification for unread texts twists my gut.
Tossing my phone down on the table, I go back to my book. Distraction.
My eyes scan the words on the page, not retaining any of them as they all start to blur together. Because that’s the thing about distraction… if the truth is powerful enough, it’ll always manage to shove a hand up through the dirt.
“Harbor!” Guty shouts as he whips open the door with his arms full. “You’ve got mail, baby boy.”
Kicking it shut behind him, he drops bags on the counter, making a ton of noise as he rustles through a bunch of stuff he apparently bought at the store. I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips while I sigh and stand up, stretching through the soreness from a vigorous morning workout, followed by sitting on the couch for way too long.
“What, did you buy the whole store?” I chuckle, walking over to see what he’s doing.
“GNC was having a sale on that protein powder we like,” he says, removing large tubs from the shopping bags. “We’ve got supplements, potassium chews… All the good stuff.”
My brow cocks. “Did you buy any actual food?”
He grins and pulls out a giant pack of beef jerky.
I have to laugh. Guty is a freaking character. He’s loud and crazy, and one of the best football players I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing alongside. He also can’t sit still, ever, which is convenient for him because he’s one of those guys who loves working out.
We’re pretty much best friends, but we’re also both insanely competitive, meaning when we work out together, we usually end up almost killing ourselves. His ongoing joke is that he has the best body on the team. But that’s never been proven.
“You know you can’t only consume protein, right?” I smirk, and he beams one of his Colgate smiles at me.
“There’s kale salad in the mini fridge,” he mutters, tapping his finger on an envelope he dropped on the counter. “This is yours. It’s from the housing office.”
All traces of amusement fall from my face as I snatch up the envelope, holding my breath while I tear into it. I can feel Guty watching me, so I turn away to read what it says.
It’s a bill for next semester’s housing. Eight thousand seven hundred and eighty-two dollars.
For five fucking months.
This is America.
Closing my eyes, I remember to breathe, pulling in a long one and holding it as I scrape a palm over my face. I knew this was coming… I can’t be too shocked over it, but still. Seeing that number in print is pretty staggering.
The enclosed letter is full of stuff I already know, explaining the fact that my scholarship doesn’t cover housing. I’ll need to make my first payment by next month in order to stay in the Walsh residence hall. They offer a payment plan, which is still over two-grand a month. And that’s just to get me through sophomore year.
Junior year will come with a much bigger bill.
“Everything okay?” Guty asks, and my eyes snap open.
Folding up the letter, I stuff it into my back pocket, turning to face him with a smile that hides all my stress and uncertainty. It’s a good one. I’ve had years of practice. “Yup. Just confirming a few things from my grants. You get any of that muscle recovery stuff you were telling me about?” I change the subject quick.
His eyes narrow, as if he might suspect I’m hiding something. But thankfully, he doesn’t dwell on it. Just pulls a bunch of bananas out of the bag and grins. “You know it, Nueve. I’m gonna whip us up some shakes now. Get these guns poppin’! It’s game day, baby!”
He starts shimmying around the room, tossing stuff into his blender while I chuckle and shake my head. But it doesn’t take long for the smile to fade and the suffocation of reality to suck oxygen out of my lungs.
Those texts… I know I should probably read them. Strictly as they pertain to my current predicament. Avoidance only works if you have the luxury of pushing away reality. And I don’t.
I need more money. Like now.
The Venmo deposits I’ve gotten from Avi are working as a pretty decent silver lining to the crippling confusion and insecurity I’ve been ignoring since the night in his dorm. It’s been a week since it happened, and I’m using every single measure of denial and distraction I possess not to think about what we did, hence why I haven’t read any of his texts.
I don’t need to know what he’s saying… And I’d really prefer not to deal with him if I don’t have to. But the fact is, that despite how awful the experience was, it did exactly what it was meant to…
I now have enough money for at least half of my housing bill for next semester, which is sort of unbelievable. Sure, recalling the haze of that night has bile crawling up my throat any time the memories get too strong for even me and my epic avoiding skills to subdue. But that’s just because of what happened. It was so out of the realm of what I’ve ever done before… It threw me for an obvious loop.
I’m not interested in hooking up with guys. I don’t want them touching my dick, or pressing their bodies against mine… Whispering things over my lips while they drag me into ridiculous, unwelcome spine-tingling orgasms.
That’s not me. I’m not gay, no matter how much people online want me to act like I am.
And where my idiot stepbrother is concerned, well… I guess he was right, in a sense. Doing what we did definitely accomplished what we set out to do. It made us money. Unfortunately for me and my straightness, I need more. Much more, if I want to stay living on campus and thus preserve my football scholarship and my inevitable championship.
So here I am, wedged snugly between a rock and a gay place. And I just know Avi has been texting me all kinds of nonsense about how well the video did and how much the fans are now begging for more…
I feel like a reluctant sex worker who just accepted my first wad of dirty, shameful cash. I loathe the idea of being alone with Avi again, with that camera recording…
But at the same time, I know that he was right, and I despise it even more for that reason. This seems to be the only way to get the amount of money I need, as fast as I need it.
“You want this…”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow down the saliva filling my mouth.
“It’s okay to like it, you know…”
“Yo…” Guty’s voice cuts into the hushed words in my head, and I flinch. “You alright?” He’s staring at me with his forehead lined.
Straightening, I shove it all down, sliding the shiny plastic of my mask back into place.
“Yea, I’m good.” The fake smile is so hard to hold sometimes, my entire body wants to collapse. “I’m just thinking about that Duke defense…”
Guty’s look of concern transforms into a cocky grin. “Don’t worry, amigo. Tonight, we’re gonna exorcise those Blue Devils back to North Carolina where they belong.”
He winks at me, and I chuckle. On the surface.
Underneath it is nothing but festering doubt.
“Alright, listen up! It’s all lined up for us. We just need to focus.”
Coach’s voice rings loud over the roaring noise of the crowd.
“Gutierrez can break out of their hold, I know he can. But just in case, I want the rest of you gaining as much yardage as possible. They can try to cover you all, but it won’t work.” He aims a serious glare at me. “Harbor, sights on. Show ’em how high Eagles fly.”
He slaps me on the back and I nod, with my mind both rushing like a waterfall and still as a pond. There’s so much riding on this game, the adrenaline and nerves stiffening my muscles.
Bright lights, chaotic noise, all eyes on us. It’s enough stress to crush you if you let it.
But I won’t.
The sheer madness of everything somehow fades into the background, like there’s a protective shield around me. It’s my control; the discipline of my restraint. Harnessing every single bit of mayhem that surrounds me and using it as fuel.
I will not let them push me down.
I will not let them win.
“Drive!” Coach shouts as the seconds of our timeout tick down. “They’re expecting us to run, to take the obvious play for the field goal. Not happening. Fucking drive!” He backs up, then calls out fast in his usual commanding brogue, “Eagles on three. One, two, three—”
Everyone hollers, “Eagles!” Then we break.
And it’s back to the game.
Less than two minutes left on the clock and we’re down by three points. Duke came prepared. They’ve been matching our energy the entire game. Every time we score, they score, leaving our defense with their heads spinning each time the ball is in Duke’s hands. I’m confident that I can get us in the lead right now… But then my teammates will need to hold them off to run out the clock.
Losing this game is not a fucking option. Duke has been nearly unstoppable this season—nearly being the operative word. If we beat them now, we could clinch their spot in the playoffs.
Their quarterback, Devon Lancaster, is a powerhouse. We’re constantly compared to one another, our stats nearly identical. So for me, winning this game would finally put me on top for good.
I need this win. I need to prove that I’m doing the right thing.
On the field, I can almost feel the stands vibrating around me. Maroon and gold shimmer on the edges of my vision, as does the movement of a certain mascot I’ve been purposely ignoring all night.
Just knowing he’s over there has my hands clenching while I await the snap. He’s hopping around as the play clock counts down, and my jaw ticks.
Four… three… two…
Time stands still before it speeds back up in an instant. I’m fed the ball and I back-step, eyes zoned on Guty. They’re all over him, which has obviously been their tactic the whole game. To sever our connection.
But they’re playing it too close to the chest, leaving one of our other receivers, Tim Fellows, open to run. And he does.
He breaks away down the field, and I launch the ball in his direction. It’s an overshot… One that Guty would sail to easily, being the fastest dude I’ve ever seen. But Fellows has to sprint like his life depends on it to catch up to the ball.
I hold my breath, watching it fall as his arms stretch out. But I miss what happens when I’m tackled to the ground.
Scrambling out from under one of Duke’s guards, I smack his hand away as he tries to help me up, jumping to my feet at the sounds of cheers and howls.
Fellows caught it. He caught the ball and is running, diving toward the end zone.
My heart is in my throat, breathing shallowed, as he narrowly avoids being grabbed and steps over the line before crashing to the ground.
“Fuck yes!” I roar, and the crowd goes wild as the ref calls it.
Touchdown!
We’re all going crazy, Eagles players jumping and screaming to match the rumble in the stands. Everyone is freaking out, because it looks like we’re gonna win this thing!
But there’s still a minute on the clock. And the way Duke’s been playing all night, I just know Lancaster is going to try for another touchdown while simultaneously running out the clock, so I don’t have an opportunity to get back out on the field.
It’s all riding on our defense, which means I can’t control the situation. Like an itch just beneath the surface of my skin.
Theo nails the extra point, which is great, but it still doesn’t placate me as I move off of the field, listening to Coach shout things at the linebackers. Slapping Fellows on the back, I grunt, “Nice job, kid.”
He whips off his helmet, grinning to match my own. Excited, but also strained. Because we both know we’re not out of the woods. “That how you always toss to Guty??” he teases breathlessly while squirting water into his mouth from his bottle. “Fuckin’ Stretch Armstrong.”
I laugh and give him a shove. “You pulled it off.”
Removing my helmet, I hesitantly plop down on the bench, having some water as my eyes stay fixed on the field. My knee is bouncing while I watch Lancaster, trying to read him… Anticipate his next move.
But something distracts me. A large, dumbass form in my peripheral.
My teeth grind together, and I ignore it, even though I can feel him getting closer, coming right the fuck up to me while Duke’s wide receiver catches the punt on their twenty-yard line. They set up into formation with fifty seconds on the clock, and it’s the moment of truth.
There’s the snap. Lancaster has the ball, but our guys are fucking everywhere. He ends up handing it off and they barely gain a half-yard.
“Fuck yea,” I growl, my eyes darting right. “Get away from me, please.”
“Hell of a throw,” Avi’s muffled voice comes from inside the eagle.
“Oh, was it?” I mutter, trying my best to disregard him and watch the game. Nerves are thrumming my stomach so hard, I feel like I could puke.
Come on, come on. We’ve got this.
“I’m guessing it was…” Avi sits down next to me, and I scoot away. “Since we scored points and all.”
My face tilts in his direction and I give him a look that’s part baffled and part mortified, to which he laughs. I mean, laughing as Baldwin the Eagle, slapping his mitts down on his knees and everything.
“I’m just kidding, Jesus…” he grumbles at the look on my face. “I understand football. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head. “Just shut up. This is the most stressful moment of my life. I don’t want to listen to you blathering like a moron.”
“Rawr… Sassy,” he hums, and my fingers dig into the bench while I fight to ignore him, gaping from the sidelines at Duke’s third down, four yards to gain for the first.
“Come on, come on…” I’m whispering to myself over and over, reciting my prayers to the gods of football.
The play clock counts down, and I peek over to find Avi’s knee bouncing the same way mine is. I narrow my gaze at him, but his attention seems to be on the field now, too. As if maybe he does care just a little bit about the game…
A whistle blows, and my face snaps back to the field. The ball is in the air.
I jump to my feet. Lancaster just threw a deep one to his running back, number eighteen, down at our twenty-five-yard line.
The dude’s arms stretch out, and my stomach sinks.
The ball dances on his fingertips. My heart stops.
But then our cornerback, Matt Naruto, flies out of fucking nowhere, tackling the legs out from under Eighteen before he has a full grip.
And the ball is loose on the field.
A collective gasp rings out all around me, Eagles fans immediately bellowing in the stands. Of course flags are thrown, and now I can’t see shit. Everyone is diving all over the ball. It’s a mess.
When the ref finally stops the play, the ball is in our hands. And he calls it.
“Fumble! Recovery, Eagles.”
“Yes!” My arms fly into the air.
Avi jumps up and does the same, everyone around us fist pumping and cheering, celebrating getting the ball back with twenty-eight seconds left in the game.
We fucking won!
“We fucking won.” I let out a breath as Avi grabs my shoulders and shakes me around.
“Yea, bitch!” he shouts, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Harbor! Let’s fucking win this thing.” Coach shoves me out onto the field, all of us whooping and wailing and chuckling out of relief. That was insane!
I take the field, too far away to try for anything and risk it. So instead, we take a knee, and the game is over.
We fucking won. We beat Duke!
The crowd is going absolutely wild, as is our team. We’re all jostling each other around, the testosterone really flying. This was a big one.
One more win and we’re going to the playoffs.
“Hey, good game, man.” Devon Lancaster comes over to shake my hand, and with a humble grin, I shake his right back.
“You, too.”
Watching him wander off, I have to nod in respect. The dude is a class act. Not everyone loses so gracefully. I know he’ll probably be sulking by himself tonight, overanalyzing every move and missed opportunity. I know, because that’s what I do.
But on the field, you keep your head up.
I won’t say I haven’t cursed and thrown my helmet before. But I can’t stand the guys who talk shit to the other team. It doesn’t help, and it just makes you look like a baby.
Wading through all the bodies, I make my way back to the sidelines, and go figure, Avi comes up to me again, popping off the head of his costume.
“That was awesome, Ky.” He grins.
Squirting water into my mouth, I swallow, then huff, “Thanks.”
“Look, I kinda need to talk to you,” he murmurs, low enough that I can just barely hear him over all the noise.
My muscles stiffen, eyes slinking in his direction. “Now is really not the time…”
“No, I know. But you haven’t read any of my texts.” He keeps pushing. “I just wanted to—”
“Don’t care,” I growl. “Go away, Avi.”
Turning from him, I freeze at the sight of Lexi galloping in our direction. Oh God, here we go.
“Babe! What a game!” she squeals, launching herself at me.
She jumps up into my arms, and like a reflex, I catch her. Her legs wrap around my waist and my eyes widen, startled by the way she’s acting like she’s my girlfriend. I haven’t even seen her in weeks.
Meanwhile, Avi is staring at us, brow arched as Lexi peppers my neck with kisses. And because I fully hate the knowing look on his obnoxious fucking face, I decide to grab her by the jaw and kiss her.
It’s for show, which feels obvious even to me, but it doesn’t stop Lexi from slipping her tongue into my mouth and really laying it on thick. I hear a few people murmuring around us, whooping for the quarterback and cheerleader making out after a big win like we’re in some kind of romantic comedy.
Peering behind Lexi while her lips move on mine, I catch Avi rolling his eyes, shaking his head as he stomps away. As soon as he’s out of sight, I pry my mouth from Lexi’s incessant suction, plopping her down on her feet while I shake it off.
She runs her hands up my chest. “You wanna come over and celebrate?”
My eyes flit once more in the direction the eagle just went. “I’m uh… I’m sort of tired.” I peek down to find her biting her lip.
“You know, I’m a pretty good masseuse…” Her eyes sparkle.
Sure, it would probably feel great… Fucking the hot girl silly after this win. Plus, it’s what I’m expected to do. It makes sense.
So I nod slowly and rumble, “I need to be with the team right now,” backing away from her touch. “Just for a bit. And then I’ll come by.”
She beams up at me. “Alright, sexy.” She pushes up onto her tippy toes to kiss my lips quick, whispering, “I’ll be waiting for you.”
I gulp and force a grin, using the opportunity to slink away from her, disappearing into the crowd of my teammates, who are all rowdy with the excitement of the win.
We trudge back into the locker room together while my thoughts whirl. I know it probably isn’t right to string Lexi along… I’m fully aware that I don’t have actual feelings for her. But then hooking up with fuckhot cheerleaders is what we do. I’m sure it would relieve any lingering stress from the whole thing with Avi’s and my secret… job, for lack of a better word, that doesn’t make me want to stab myself in the brain.
But even so, while I’m showering in the locker room, I can’t help how my mind drifts to my phone sitting in my locker. And the unread texts from my stepbrother.
Why am I thinking about this?? I just won a huge game. I should be celebrating by getting drunk with my teammates and letting big-titted cheerleaders rub me down… Not dwelling on the money I need to stay on the team and the shameful way I’ve chosen to drum up said funds.
Padding out of the shower with a towel around my waist, I linger in front of my locker while the rest of the guys are dressing quickly.
“Yo, you coming, Nueve?” Guty asks me, gathering up his things to leave with Theo and Naruto. “We’ve got some partying to do, pimpin’!”
They high-five one another, laughing and slapping each other’s backs.
“Yea, totally.” I grin at them. “I’m right behind you.”
They leave, bringing the raucous noise with them until I’m standing alone in a quiet locker room with my curiosity piqued. I just need to see…
Get it over with. Read the texts so you can see what the fuck he wants and call it a day.
Unlocking my phone, I pull up the messages from Avi. He’s been texting me for the last few days and I haven’t even glanced at a single one. Until now.
Avi: I sent you some $$
Avi: Sent more.
Avi: Ok mucho dinero, superstar. It’s really rolling in…
Avi: Just thought you might want to see some of the comments…
There’s a picture attached; a screenshot of comments from his OnlyFans account. My blinking becomes rapid while I read them…
Miscellaneous strangers on the internet calling me sexy and gorgeous and hot as fuck. DMs from Avi’s fans asking for more, offering even more money for more content… And my head is sort of spinning.
Avi: I don’t need to tell you what this means…
Avi: I know you’re ignoring me on purpose, but if you just think of this objectively… We could make enough for the next two years.
Avi: It’s business, Kyran. Are you really going to throw away this opportunity because it’s a little weird…?
My stomach twists into a knot. I hate that he’s right. I hate that he feels like he knows all the answers, and I hate the idea of money controlling what I do.
But it’s the unfortunate truth to my situation. If I want to keep going the way I am, with this team, winning and building my own legacy, something that belongs to me, then I need to buck up and swallow my trepidations.
Does it suck ass that my obnoxious stepbrother is behind the wheel of this thing? Fuck yes, it does. Because he’s right… it definitely is weird. I don’t want more things like what happened the other day in his dorm…
But want is a luxury that, like most other things, I just can’t afford.
So with that thought and the image of even more Venmo deposits cha-chinging in my brain, I get dressed and leave the stadium.
But instead of going back to my dorm, I go to the Thomas More Apartments. Room 446.
Outside his door, my eyes shift up and down the hallway, making sure no one’s around before I knock. I hear shuffling from inside, and when the door opens a crack, I’m met with grayish-blue eyes rippling with startled confusion.
I push my way past him inside.
“Yea, sure. Just come on in… Make yourself at home,” Avi mutters sarcastically.
Spinning to face him, I grunt, “I’m following your advice, smartass.” He raises a brow. “Looking at it objectively…”
Standing still in front of me for a moment, he blinks and visibly swallows before he says, “Okay. So… what next?”
I shrug, ignoring the gnawing uncertainty in my gut. “I guess… we get to work.”
Avi lets out a breath that seems a bit unsteady, pulling a joint from behind his ear and lighting it. “For future reference, a little notice would be appreciated.”
My head tilts at him. “Why? Do you have any plans? Other than smoking yourself stupid, I mean…”
“Maybe,” he grumbles. “You don’t know what I do with my time. What if I was gonna go out?”
He sucks in a long drag, blowing the pungent smoke in my direction. My face scrunches in displeasure as I wave it away. “Yea, well… I’m sacrificing my free time to be here, too. So get over it.”
“I feel so very special.” Sarcasm lines his tone as he pads around the kitchen.
Scanning him briefly, my eyes take in what he’s wearing… Gray sweatpants, a fitted black tank top, and a Yankees cap on backwards. At first glance, Avi kind of looks like a jock. I don’t want to pay him any compliments or anything, but he’s unexpectedly fit. I’ve never known him to work out, and he eats junk food like he’s afraid the wells of trans fats are going to dry up. Yet he’s all curves and slopes of defined muscle. A full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm and more scattered in other places…
Shaking it off, I push my worrisome thoughts to the back of my mind, watching as Avi stubs out his joint, then pours liquor into two solo cups. His nails are painted chipped black, some ink marks on his knuckles that prove he’s not, in fact, a jock, despite how he’s dressed and the way his body looks.
He’s a bizarre character… A nerd who’s not good at school. An emo kid who smiles all the time. An artist with more muscle than some of the dudes on my team.
He’s an aberration, and I think his haphazard personality is what makes me dislike him so much. More than the fact that he popped up out of nowhere and moved into my life like it’s just that easy, he’s almost impossible to pin down, and I hate that.
I want to be able to read people… to know what their intentions are. I like my humans transparent. And Avi is a murky mass of opaque complexities.
Stepping over, he hands me the cup. He lifts his to mine, and I give it an apathetic tap before slugging back the shot. The liquor warms my throat, burning its way down my esophagus and hopefully working quickly into my bloodstream to help fog up my awareness.
I might need to be blasted every time I set foot in this place… I don’t want to be cognizant of where this is going.
Reaching for the bottle, I pour myself some more, eyes sliding into the living room. The couch reminds me of us being on it last time I was here… And my stepbrother’s hand curled around my—
“Where’s the thing…?” My voice comes out rumbly, spouting words to distract myself from the hectic way my nerves are rattling. “The tripod or whatever…”
Avi is quiet for a moment, and when I peek at him, I find him watching me, curiously intent; the way someone might observe a dog they think could potentially bite them.
“In the bedroom,” he answers, slowly sipping from his cup.
Nodding, I force myself into reluctant motion, wandering in the direction of his bedroom. Unfortunately, being inside only ripples my anxiety more.
His room is a little bigger than mine, set up the same with two beds and two desks, though it’s obvious that only one of each are currently in use. Avi’s bed is all rumpled, with sheets and bedding strewn about, his clothing and belongings covering the opposite bed. I’m not surprised in the slightest by how messy he is, since we lived in the same house for years.
Thank God we never shared a bedroom. I’d probably off myself. Sharing a bathroom with him was enough of a headache. The way our sinks looked was like a portal between the real world and the bizarro world. Extreme cleanliness meets pure chaos.
Slinking into the room, I sneak a peek at the scattered papers all over his desk, drawings of people and faces and different scenes. The detail is sort of incredible, but I don’t want to dwell on it… Especially when I hear his bare footsteps entering the room behind me.
“So… no roommate?” I ask, sipping from my cup. “Like, at all?”
He wanders over to the tripod, fussing with a video camera. That’s new… The sight of it lurches my stomach up into my throat.
“Guess not…” He sighs and shrugs. “The dude never showed.”
“That’s… good.” My eyes flit to his. “I mean, for this. Privacy…”
Jesus, this is fucking awkward. Rubbing the back of my neck, I take a larger gulp of booze. Please work faster…
Avi says nothing. He simply plops down on the bed, setting his cup on the floor as he reclines on his elbows. I’m annoyed by how he always seems so much more relaxed than I am. He’s perpetually unworried… and I can’t tell if it’s a symptom of his nonstop weed intake, or if he just genuinely doesn’t care about anything.
I end up shifting in place for a few heavy moments while Avi lies there fiddling with his nail polish like he has all the time in the world and none of the concerns I’m wrestling with. Finally inching over, I take a seat on the bed by his feet, sucking down the rest of my booze.
“Is the nail polish part of your anti-establishment image or something?” I place my empty cup on the floor.
“If that makes you feel better,” he huffs.
“I don’t feel any type of way about it…” I grunt. “I’m just making conversation.”
His eyes settle on mine. “Did you come over here to chat, or are we working?”
My jaw sets. “Forgive me for needing to build myself up to this… I’m not as interested in bisexual experimentation as you are, apparently.”
“God, you’re uptight.” He drops his head back on the pillow with a breathy chuckle. “The more pressure you put on it, the weirder it’s gonna be.”
I glare at him. “Well, what the fuck do you suggest? Should I just fucking dive on top of you?? I’m not attracted to you, Avi.”
His chin slopes as he aims a narrowed gaze at my face that brings unwanted heat rushing up my neck. It must be the booze.
“You’re not?” His eyebrow arches, and I shake my head firmly. “Not even a little…?”
“No.” My teeth grind together as he sits up.
Tugging his shirt over his head, he tosses it off to the side, and I can feel my pulse speeding up with my nerves. I fucking despise this reaction because it makes no sense.
I don’t want to be nervous around him… I don’t want him thinking it’s because I enjoy doing this.
I don’t.
“You must be a really good actor then.” Avi’s lips curve at the corner, into one of his stupid fucking dimples. “Ditch the football and you could be the next Jake Gyllenhaal.”
Frustration tenses my muscles. “You’re not making this any easier, asshole.”
He leans in closer, dropping a hand over my hips until he’s trapping me in place. I try to scoot away, but there’s nowhere to go, and now my pulse is really pounding inside my skull.
“Whether or not we’re faking this for the money, you can’t deny that you got off, Kyran,” he mumbles. “I was there. I saw it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything…” I force myself not to focus on the heat suddenly baking me inside this bubble of tension, his cinnamon sugar breath, or his scent, like cloves, mild weed, and something familiar I can’t put my finger on.
I don’t want to put my finger on it. I just want to get through this as unscathed as possible so I can stay in school.
Focus. Think about the money.
He looks like he has a hundred more wise-ass remarks on the tip of his tongue, but he keeps them in, lifting his hand and slowly moving it up to the zipper on my hoodie. Our eyes meet and his brow lifts, subtly, as if he’s asking a question.
A question my mouth wants to shout a resounding no to, but instead my chin bobs in a small, uneasy nod.
He draws the zipper down, watching as it descends. Then he pushes the fabric off my shoulders, and as much as I don’t want to, I help him get it off. Sucking in a breath, I pull my t-shirt over my head before he can attempt to do it for me, because I really don’t want it to feel like he’s undressing me…
But then his index finger draws a line along my waist, where the band of my boxers is visible from beneath my joggers.
I snatch his wrist in my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m touching you, Kyran,” he hums, impatience framing his tone. Something about it causes an unwanted tickle in the pit of my stomach that makes me feel sick. “Do you not want me to?”
“No,” I growl. “I don’t.”
His head slants, and he blinks knowingly at me. “Then why are you here?”
My lips part, but I have no answer. There’s no way to do this without him touching me. It’s the unfortunate truth to this fucked-up situation.
So I swallow down even more unrest, release his wrist, and kick off my shoes, letting them clunk to the floor.
“You got here pretty fast after the game…” he croons, dropping a hand onto my thigh. My throat is all dry and scratchy. “I take it that kiss with Cheerleader Barbie didn’t go anywhere…?”
“W-why do you care?” I hate how the words stammer out of my desert-throat.
He shrugs subtly, that goddamn hand crawling toward my crotch. My heart is hammering, rattling my ribs as I sit, frozen, watching it like a venomous cobra. But it diverts its path, moving up to my abs, his fingers gently grazing my happy trail until I flinch.
“Just wondering…” His voice is a raspy whisper. The camera might not even pick it up. “If you already got off, or if this will be over much quicker.”
“I’ll be imagining I’m with her either way,” I grunt.
The lie tastes sour on my tongue. In my mind, it’s the truth. But it doesn’t feel that way, and my stomach rolls. I feel like Avi can tell I’m lying, though I’m not sure how, but it’s tripping me up even more.
“Fine.” His fingers trace the lines of my abs. “Whatever you gotta do, superstar.”
Suddenly, he grabs my forearm and flops backward, yanking me until he’s lying on his back and I’m on top of him. I go to pull away, but he grips me tighter, moving my arm until my hand is on his chest.
“Go ahead.” He settles beneath me. “Pretend.”
“I… I can’t…” I’m flustered to the max right now. I don’t even know how to do this… I don’t think I can.
My eyes slink to the camera, but Avi grasps my chin, twisting my face back. “Don’t think about that. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m her.”
“But you’re not,” I hiss, feeling flush in my face from how close we are… The position of my knees on either side of his thigh.
The fact that there’s no pussy or tits in the general vicinity… Only a dick attached to my least favorite person in the world.
“Come on… You’re Kyran Harbor.” He smirks. “I thought you backed down from nothing.”
He’s right. I hate it, but he is.
I refuse to let this stupid fucking situation I’m in beat me down. I’ve been fighting since I was a kid, and this is no different.
Channeling my nerves into fuel, the same way I do on the field, I close my eyes and lower myself over him.
Shakily, my hand slides up his chest. It helps that his skin is smooth and warm, though all I feel beneath its surface are boulders of muscle, like my own. It’s strange, and when our chests meet, I feel his tautness brushing mine in the most unexpected of sensations.
I’ve only ever felt tits on my chest. As curved as his pecs are, they’re not tits, and I’m painfully aware of that fact as I seal us together. But I ignore it, grinding myself into him slowly.
I can feel him breathing, his heart rapping against my chest as I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and move my lips to his neck. They rest there for a moment, but when his Adam’s apple dips in a hearty swallow, I have to move away, because it’s too real.
He’s too much of a guy, and it’s too obvious for my brain to ignore. Taking on a new tactic when his head turns, I go for his earlobe, sucking it between my lips.
This is something I can do to pretend he’s a girl…
But he lets out a rumbly sound, and I stiffen.
“Don’t make that noise,” I whisper sternly, flicking my tongue in his ear, sucking the lobe again until he squirms beneath me.
“I can’t help it…” His hands glide onto my shoulders. “It feels good.”
A twitch happens between my legs. I don’t want it to, but it does, and it turns my stomach some more.
“I felt that…” Avi chuckles.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl and bite his ear.
Another twitch happens on my dick… But this one didn’t come from me.
“You’re so fucking gay.” I press my hips down, and he breathes a ragged groan that stiffens my erection against my will.
“Say that with my cock in your mouth,” he rumbles, giving my shoulders a gentle push.
Pulling back, I glare at him. “Not gonna happen. Ever.”
“I think it will…” He bites his lip, eyes falling to my mouth. “For the right price.”
“No.” My stomach twists up like a pretzel, chills sheeting my flesh.
Despite how burning hot I seem to be, my nipples are bunched up and hard as stones, brushing on his, until I shudder. He smirks, fingers gliding up my neck into my hair while I scowl.
“They would love to see it, though, Ky.” His tone is taunting, downright villainous, the grayish blue in his irises dark and glittering.
“I’m not sucking your dick, Avi.” I gulp down the saliva filling my mouth. “End of discussion.”
“What if we do it together?” His head slants, placating me with his bargaining.
I blink at him. “You mean like… you suck while I… suck?”
He nods. “That way it’s even.” One hand lifts and his fingertip grazes my lower lip. “And you won’t have time to worry about what your mouth is doing because you’ll be focused on how good it feels.”
I’m fucking rigid and my heart rate seems to be echoing its thumps all over my body… Even between my legs. I don’t know why… I have no earthly idea why my balls are humming and my dick is throbbing full and thick in my pants, but it’s happening.
Call it eagerness to be sucked, I guess. Because let’s be real here… Every dick just wants to be sucked, no matter by whom. I’m choosing to blame the fact that I’m even considering this on booze and my inherent male desire to blow my load into a mouth.
“I can feel you forcing yourself to fight against this, so let me just save you the trouble…” Avi moves his hands down, slipping his fingers into the waistband of my boxers.
Before I can even process it, he’s shoving them down, with my pants, until they’re below my ass, and my dick is out, resting on his stomach. I want to protest so badly, but my body isn’t responding. I’m just hovering over him, breathing heavily, with my cock flinching, filling and stretching before both of our eyes.
Distracting myself with words, I ask, “Have you ever… done it before?”
He shakes his head, pushing his own pants down. His dick is just as hard as mine, which I guess takes some of the humiliation away. “No… But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious…”
“More than a little,” I croak. “That’s why this is all so easy for you… You’re just itching to add cock to the menu, aren’t you, bro?”
His hand wraps around both of our shafts, and I stifle a gasp. “At least I can be honest about it.”
“Ffuck… off…” I bite my lip to hide a groan at the sensation of his hand and his dick rubbing on mine.
“You can’t lie about what turns you on when your dick is out, Kyran,” he hums, stroking us together with leisurely pumps of his fist. “It’s stiff as fuck and leaking on me…”
This is too real…
My body jumps into fight-or-flight, and I jerk myself away from him. But I don’t go far, rolling onto my side and raking my hand through my hair while I catch my breath. Avi slithers out of his pants, flipping around so that his face is in line with my dick and his dick is in my face.
“W-wait… Hold on,” I rasp with my head reeling.
“Would it make you feel better if I started?” he asks, mildly sympathetic to my ongoing hesitation, but only a little. He mostly sounds like he wants to get this show on the road, which reminds me that it’s just business.
So I nod, and he shoves my pants down farther, swooping them off my legs completely. And now we’re both naked, in his bed together.
Naked stepbrothers… in a bed that’s barely big enough for the two of us.
How is this my life right now??
But I have no time to protest or debate further, because a strong hand is curling around my hipbone, lips descending over the head of my dick.
“Ohh, fuck…” The words gust out before I can stop them, my eyes falling to Avi’s upside-down mouth sucking on my cock.
Oh God… He’s sucking… my… dick.
It’s gentle, tentative, the way he sucks, like hasn’t the slightest clue how to do what he’s doing. But I guess the act is pretty self-explanatory, and he eases into it, sliding me deeper between his lips.
It feels absolutely euphoric, and I don’t want it to. But the wires of my desire seem to be crossed because as much as I know this is something I’ve never allowed myself to want, I can’t help but chase the slippery wet warmth of his tongue and the way he’s groaning on my erection.
“Fuck me, that feels good.” My eyes close, submitting instantly to the sensation, the tingle in my balls, and the captivating flutter of his tongue over my swollen tip as it frees itself between his plush lips.
Avi uses his grip on me to haul himself closer, and when I open my eyes, his dick is right in front of me with a shiny pearl of precum at its tip. Biting my lip, I stare as it leaks out, another one following it, and I can’t stop my mind from swirling around the idea that it’s happening because he’s really enjoying himself.
The sucking stops, and he pulls his mouth away, breathing ragged breaths as he fists my cock, stroking it slowly. “This is feeling sort of one-sided, Ky.”
“Sorry…” I mumble, working myself up to it.
His tongue flicks my crown as he jerks me, playing with the skin around it until my lashes flutter. Chills sheet my body, and I close my eyes, inching forward and opening my mouth.
“Kyran…” he whimpers, and my balls thump. “Suck me.”
The shivering groan that leaves my lips is replaced by the head of his cock as I lower onto him. It’s business… It’s just…
There’s something going on here… Something is wrong with me because having him in there sends a bolt of lightning zapping through my loins.
Avi grunts, then moans on my cock, sucking up, then popping off. “I like the way you taste…”
Fuck me. Fuck me fuck me fuck me, what is going on…?
Keeping my jaw open wide enough to fit him, I slide just a little deeper, groaning on his cock as he pumps it gradually in and out of my mouth. I’m not sucking much, but more than anything, I find myself hypnotized by the way his hips are working, spearing himself between my lips.
I press my hands onto his thighs, attempting to hold him back for fear that if he goes too deep, I’ll gag. I’m so fucking nervous, tight all over, muscles bunching in uncertainty and the delicious pleasure of him sucking on me like a fiend.
Avi’s mouth slurps off my dick, and he runs soft, moist lips down to my nuts, lapping at them over and over while he shivers. “God, Ky, that feels so fucking good… Jesus…”
Warmth blooms in the pit of my stomach, spreading a blaze inside me that makes no fucking sense. I don’t know what about the praise is clicking in some deep, dark corner of my mind, but it’s all I can think about. My hands cup his ass, and I pull him for more, sticking out my tongue and letting him ride it with gentle flicks of his hips until he’s so deep, his balls are in my face.
It doesn’t even register for minutes of him humping my mouth that I’m not gagging. I haven’t even gagged once, and his head is lurching deeper and deeper into my throat like it’s reaching for my tonsils.
Avi moves himself on top of me, kneeling over my shoulders and bracing himself on my thighs as he fucks down between my lips, using his to suck and suck and suck on my cock until I’m going cross-eyed.
I have no idea where I am anymore. I don’t know who I am… I couldn’t even tell you my name. I’m just sweating and burning alive, writhing beneath a large, scorching hot body of muscle while far more inches than I can even comprehend rut into my mouth.
My saliva is gathering, and it has nowhere to go. I’m forced to swallow it, and when I do, my throat contracts around Avi’s cock, causing him to shudder and groan.
I’m wound the fuck up, dizzy from the slow rough suction, like he’s purposely trying to be as thorough as possible with my dick in his mouth. I think he’s aiming to suck my orgasm out like a milkshake through a thin straw… which is exactly what’s about to happen.
I wouldn’t be able to hold it off if I tried. And to be honest, I’m really not… Because right now, I want nothing more than to fucking come.
Avi has his fingers around my nuts, massaging and squeezing them while he rides me at both ends, fucking me with his mouth and fucking my mouth with his cock. I barely even notice that I’m gripping his ass for dear life, clutching him while our bodies grind together, muscles tensed in anticipation of a sweet fucking release.
He smashes his hips against my face, feeding his big cock into my throat while I struggle to breathe.
Then he releases my dick, all wet and swollen as he whimpers, “Kyran… I’m gonna come. Fuck yess, I’m gonna… come.”
Even if I wanted to, there’s no moving away. I’m trapped beneath him. But the sickest part is that as soon as the words leave his lips, I’m waiting for it. Like it’s my reward for doing well… I want it.
And I get it, in hot, thick spurts shooting all over my tongue.
The taste sets me off. I don’t know why… How this is even possible, but the salty slick fluid being pumped into my throat launches me into immediate orgasm.
With Avi’s mouth back on my cock, sucking me through sensual hums, I burst, feeding him heavy, aching pulses. Groaning and digging my fingers into his flesh, my world topples off its axis and goes spiraling out into the blackness of the universe.
“Mm… mmm mm mmm…” My unintelligible cries are muffled by the cock in my mouth, which is probably a good thing. I have no clue what I would be saying right now if I weren’t obstructed, but I don’t think I have control over my words.
Fuck… yes… come… come come coming, so… good…
Our movements slow, hips finally easing to a halt as we fizzle down from the high of a baffling, inexplicable mouthful of climax we both swallowed up like thirsty little cum sluts.
It was joint effort… A shared orgasmic experience.
And because of that, for a brief moment, I feel connected.
I’m not sure if it’s to Avi, or maybe just the moment, but a mist of serenity has sheeted my body and my mind. And I’m settled.
Everything is gone… The uncertainty, the insecurity, the doubt. The terrible, awful pitch-black devastation I’ve lived with for so many years… it feels like it’s all evaporated.
Like someone left the window open in my mind, and it all just flew away out into the open air.
Avi pulls himself off of me, severing the connection as he topples onto his side. I haul in a deep breath, suddenly much colder without the weight of him holding me down.
I’m… where…?
He flips around as my eyelids creep open, and the first thing I see is his face. Forehead lined in worry, periwinkle irises sparkling down at me.
Avi is never worried, or concerned…
He doesn’t care… At least, that’s what I’d thought.
“Ky…” he breathes, fingers trailing along my jaw while I just gawk at him like I’ve never actually seen him before. “Are you alright??” I blink, and his hand glides down to rest over my heart. “I’m sorry. I think I was like… suffocating you. I totally didn’t mean to—”
My face inches up, upper body pushing me completely on its own, and I press my lips to his.
Who am I…?
This isn’t me… This is someone else.
Avi is stiff, maybe shocked or surprised by what I’m doing, but only for a moment before his lips part over mine and he kisses me back.
Who are you…?
How…
He purrs on my mouth, touching his tongue to mine. And something snaps.
Reality slams back into focus. And I yank my face back.
“What the fuck…” I choke, fumbling away and clearing my throat. “No. No, no… Fuck that.” Scrambling, I sit up fast and grab my clothes. “No, this isn’t me.”
“Ky…” Avi sounds echoey as I stumble off the bed and jump into my pants as fast as my wobbly legs will allow. “Hey… wait.”
“Fuck off,” I snap, my voice still too breathy. I don’t sound like me…
Because this isn’t you, moron. That was someone else.
You don’t do things like that. You don’t like things like that.
I’m struggling to get redressed so quickly, I’m practically falling over. Lightheaded and confused… I need to get the fuck out of here.
“Kyran, will you just calm down for a second…” Avi grumbles, standing up and pulling on his sweatpants.
“Shut this fucking thing off!” I bark, gesturing to the camera while I pull my shirt on. “It’s over, Avi. It’s done. Shut it the fuck off.”
“Okay, okay,” he breathes, baffled in distress. It sounds bizarre to my ears, because he doesn’t usually sound like that. Like he cares… Why does he suddenly care?? “It’s off, Jesus. Can you just chill for a second, please?”
My head shakes viciously as I slip my arms into my hoodie. “Nope. No need to chill. We got what we needed, and that’s all that matters.”
My jaw is straining, heart racing. I peek at him, and he cocks his head, like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying.
I roll my eyes. “It was an act, Avi. Business, remember?”
His eyes are wide as he gapes at me for a few heavy seconds of silence.
I don’t have time for this…
Turning away in a huff, I storm out of the room, heading for the door.
“Kyran, goddamnit, just wait a second!” he calls after me, and I force myself to stop.
Spinning to face him, we stare at each other, both sets of eyes rounded with varying emotions. I can tell he wants to say something and I’m pleading with all the cosmic forces I don’t believe in to just keep him quiet.
Eventually, his shoulders slump and he asks, “You good?”
Swallowing down the taste of him on my tongue, my scowl slips back into place. “Fucking wonderful.”
I’m out of his dorm in a flash, slamming the door a little too hard behind me.
I’m in control.
I’ve got this.
Everything is fucking fine.
