Personal Best: Going for the Gold

by Sean Michael

Mike blushed dark but shook his head. “No. I did before.” Mike suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, really exposed. Sort of like a stupid kid. He wiggled his wrists, looked up at them. “Undo ‘em?"

  Jessy nodded. “In a minute. I want your full attention."

  Jessy waited until he was looking up into those blue eyes again. “I love you. And that you love this old fool, too? Makes me damned happy."

  "For real?"

  "Do you know me to be in the habit of saying stuff I don't mean?"

  He grinned, shook his head, heart just pounding. “Nope."

  "There you go then. I love you."

  He couldn't stop grinning, smiling into those warm eyes. “Wow."

  Jessy was smiling back. “Yeah. I'd say that's a good word for it."

  Jessy's lips slid across his, warm and easy, one hand reaching up to undo the cuff around his right wrist. As soon as his arm was free, he wrapped it around Jessy, held on. Jessy smiled and undid his other wrist, this time massaging it before letting it go.

  "Mmm...” He nuzzled, moaned. “Feels good."

  "It does,” Jessy agreed, kissing his face, his neck and shoulders.

  He chased Jessy's lips, moaning as their lips met, tongues sliding against each other. Jessy rolled off him, arms going around him and tugging him into the long body. Yeah. Yeah, good. He cuddled right in, humming. Jessy pulled the covers up over them, pressed a kiss to his head.

  "Mmm ... naptime."

  "Yep.” Jessy's hands slid on him in slow, even strokes that encouraged sleep.

  Oh, he was getting way fond of his afternoon nap.

  Chapter Five

  Jessy spoke to his brother on the phone, making his usual excuses for not going home for Thanksgiving. He got on well with his brother, and his folks were less psycho than a lot he knew, but they did better getting together once a year at Christmas for a couple days and leaving it at that. Still, Bruce invited him for Thanksgiving every year.

  He figured maybe this year he wouldn't be spending the holiday alone. They'd brought the subject up on Mike's birthday, but never really made any firm plans.

  It was coming up fast, too—Bruce's call was late this year, as if his brother was growing resigned to his consistent refusals.

  He went out the back, looking for Mike poolside. It was getting cold and Mike was hurrying, pushing himself hard so he could get in the hot tub. They could talk there, discuss the matter and then make love. Or make love and then talk.

  He grinned, waiting for Mike to be done.

  For the first time, Mike hurried out of the pool, visibly shaking as he ran to the hot tub.

  Jessy stripped and climbed in with Mike. “Maybe it's time to hold all practices in the pool at UT. I don't want you getting sick."

  "I won't get sick until January.” Mike floated over, snuggled in.

  He snorted, arms wrapping around his swimmer. “I don't want you getting sick at all."

  "I get sick after Christmas every year. I'll try not to this year."

  "Every year? Like since you were little?"

  Mike nodded. “Pretty much."

  "Huh. I wonder why. You usually get overexcited at Christmas?"

  "Well, when I was little, yeah. My folks died on the 20th of December, so not after that, really."

  "Oh, that might explain it.” Well, at least it hadn't been right on Christmas itself. Still, he bet that first year was a pretty fucking shitty holiday.

  Mike leaned against him. “Jess? Are you ... are you going somewhere for Thanksgiving?"

  "Nope. I'm staying here. Just got finished confirming that with my brother, actually. I was wondering if you'd spend it with me, given you're what I'm most thankful for this year."

  He got a warm, wondering look, the smile just huge. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, that would be cool."

  He smiled, Mike's reaction making him feel good right down to his bones. “What would you think about not going the whole turkey and stuffing our faces routine and making our own tradition instead? ‘Cause that's an awful lot of work to go to for just two people.” Especially when half the traditional stuff was on Mike's do not eat list.

  "What do you want instead?” Mike didn't look opposed, more curious.

  He shrugged. He hadn't really thought about it much. He usually ate whatever was in the fridge. “Well, we could go out to dinner."

  "On Thanksgiving? Jessy, that's just wrong."

  "Oh. Well, what do you think we should do?"

  "Uh ... I was going to eat three pizzas and drink a case of Dr. Pepper.” Mike grinned. “How about a turkey breast or something? I don't like dressing, but mashed potatoes? Yummy."

  "Wait a minute, back up the truck there, kid. We'll leave aside the case of Dr. Pepper; if eating out is wrong, how is eating three pizzas right?"

  "Well, because eating three pizzas and a case of Dr. Pepper is feeling sorry for yourself because you're alone at Thanksgiving, Jess.” The words were matter-of-fact.

  He tugged Mike close, hugging him. “Well, you're not going to be alone feeling sorry for yourself on Thanksgiving."

  "Nope. I'm going to watch the parade with you and eat and we can pretend to care about football, if you want, or we could watch monster movies.” Those eyes just danced. “Pie. We have to have pie."

  "I could go for pie. And monster movies. Because football's okay, but it's not swimming.” He winked at Mike.

  "Well, no. It's not even water polo."

  He laughed happily. “All right. Turkey breast, mashed potatoes, a ton of green vegetables and monster movies it is."

  "And pie. Don't forget the pie."

  "You got a favorite kind?"

  "Mmm ... Chocolate pecan. Or apple. Or butterscotch. No. Chocolate pecan."

  "No pumpkin? I mean, it is Thanksgiving.” And Mike wasn't supposed to be eating chocolate.

  Mike wrinkled his nose. “Pumpkin cheesecake?"

  He shook his head. “No, pumpkin pie."

  Mike shook his head back. “I don't like it."

  "But you like pumpkin cheesecake?” He could negotiate. If he had to.

  "Yeah. I like chocolate pecan best, but if you don't like that, we can find one we both like. How about cherry?"

  He nodded. “Yeah, cherry works for me."

  He smiled down at Mike. “You can have the chocolate pecan for Christmas, okay?"

  "Okay. Kerbey Lane's is the best.” Just like that, he had Thanksgiving plans and a happy swimmer.

  He grinned, unable to resist teasing. “You mean you're not making me cherry pie from scratch?"

  "I meant the chocolate pecan. The cherry we'll order from the store.” Mike grinned. “I'll make the mashed potatoes, though. I know how."

  "Do you mean you don't know how to cook except for the odd thing?” Damn, he shouldn't have been just making everything Mike ate, he should have had the kid help, learn how.

  "I can make mashed potatoes and fried bologna sandwiches and ... Oh! Those bacon-wrapped hot dog thingies."

  "Oh, we need to do something about that, Mike. We might even have to work ‘making supper’ into the schedule."

  "We get to have bacon-wrapped hot dogs? Cool!"

  He chuckled. “Well, yes, you can make your ... culinary specialties, but you'll also need to learn how to make more. Man cannot live on bacon-wrapped weenies alone."

  "Nope. That's what the bologna sandwiches are for.” Mike's eyes lit up. “I can make chocolate covered frozen bananas, too."

  "You know what we could do with chocolate covered frozen bananas?"

  Mike's eyes went wide. “No way."

  He laughed. “Well maybe not with a chocolate frozen banana, but there's dildos you can fill with water and freeze. We should check out the Internet. We're sadly lacking in interesting toys."

  Mike chuckled, cheeks flushed—more from excitement than the heat, Jessy'd bet.

  "Come on, Thanksgiving's settled and you've been in the hot tub long enough. Let's dry off and check out the digital sex shops."

 
"It's cold out there. Can't we just move into the tub?” Mike winked, kissed him before standing up and running to the house.

  He followed, laughing and catching up with Mike in the kitchen where his swimmer was putting away a glass of juice.

  "I'm gonna drive to the store and buy stuff for dinner. I'll cook.” Mike looked excited, pleased, just a little wicked.

  "Are you saying I should go online and choose the toys myself?” Oh, if Mike abandoned him on this, he'd be sure to buy the biggest dildo he could find.

  "Oh!” Mike grinned, pinked. “I didn't think you were serious."

  "The hell I'm not. We talked about it the other day—got you all hard. You think I'm not going to follow up on that kind of thing?"

  Those cheeks got darker, Mike pushing right into his arms, cock half-hard already.

  He purred, hand sliding down to cup Mike's balls and then slowly coming up to wrap around the long cock. “I'm going to find the frozen banana style one, too."

  "No way.” Mike shook his head. “Wanna look in bed?"

  "Yes way and yeah, let's bring your laptop.” The kid didn't need to know yet that you could fill it with warm water, too.

  Mike followed behind, carrying the little laptop in one hand and a glass of juice in the other.

  They settled together in his big bed, under the covers, and he booted up Mike's laptop, opened up a browser and searched for a sex shop they could order stuff from. Mike leaned against his shoulder, fingers drawing circles around his bellybutton.

  "Are you trying to distract me?” he asked as his cock took definite notice.

  "Huh? Nope. Just touching."

  He turned and kissed Mike's forehead and then went back to the computer. “Here we are. Anal toys. We'll check the dildos first."

  "What're we checking them for?” Mike licked one of his nipples, grinning.

  He groaned, skin going tight, cock just throbbing. “To see which ones we want to put up your ass."

  "Oh...” He felt that long cock jerk and fill. He hid his grin. Mike wasn't the only one who could distract.

  Mike cuddled closer, eyes on the screen. “What do you like?"

  He pointed out one that was medium sized and covered in little, raised bumps.

  "Bumpy. Can you feel them?"

  "Inside you? That's the idea. You'll certainly be able to feel them sliding in and out past that tight little ring of muscles."

  "Jess!” Mike's cheeks pinked, hips rubbing that cock against his leg.

  "What?” He grinned and pointed to another dildo, this one with what looked like a scrub brush on the end of it. “Of course this one would play your gland like crazy."

  "That's obscene.” Mike chuckled, shook his head.

  "Okay, so we want one of each of those. How about the long hung dong?” It was a huge thing, scary even. He wondered how Mike would react.

  Mike snorted. “That's for show."

  "You think?” He added it to their shopping cart. “Let's add the bumpy one as well."

  Mike blinked but didn't argue, just sort of stared.

  Fuck, the kid was cute all wide-eyed like that. “We should get a ‘normal’ one, too, don't you think?"

  "A normal one? Okay. What makes it normal? I mean, those,” Mike pointed, “are cock-shaped, but those look like what people call dildos."

  "I meant size, really—you can pick the style you like. Or, hell, we'll buy one of each. You like the screaming neon pink one?” He was just teasing now, waiting to see how Mike would react.

  Mike chuckled. “The pink would clash with my skin tone."

  He laughed and turned Mike's chin up, kissing him hard. “Then we'll get the purple one.” Mike's laugh tasted so good, sweet. It would be so easy to get distracted in that taste, in his lover's mouth.

  Mike's fingers circled his nipple, tugged.

  He groaned. “If you didn't ... want to get the uh ... purple one, you could have just uh ... said so."

  "Hmm?” Mike licked his lips.

  He growled, pushing the laptop aside and rolling onto Mike, deepening the kiss.

  "Oh...” Mike's legs wrapped around his waist, holding on tight. Those hot lips opened up for him, eager, easy.

  Always so hot for it—it was heady, exciting.

  He fucked Mike's mouth with his tongue, hips picking up the rhythm. Mike purred, rocking harder, faster, pushing them. He went with it, letting Mike set the pace, hips working furiously to slide their cocks together.

  He got a low groan, Mike's fingers tightening. “Oh. Jess. Yeah."

  "Love you,” he whispered, hips moving harder.

  Mike jerked, heat spreading over his belly.

  He purred, hand searching the side table for the lube. “Love that smell."

  "The smell of me?” Mike was panting, relaxing.

  "Yeah. Of your skin, of your come. It makes me want.” His fingers caught on the tube of slick stuff and he grabbed it, getting his fingers slippery.

  "Oh. Wow.” Those dark eyes smiled.

  He smiled back, sliding his fingers along Mike's body, leaving shiny, slick trails. When he reached Mike's crease, he teased his fingers in.

  "Mmm...” Mike groaned, body tight and hot around him.

  "Just imagine,” he murmured. “In a few days I could be doing this to get you ready for one of those dildos..."

  "Oh.” Mike squeezed him, arching.

  "Christ, you are sexy.” He pushed a third finger into Mike, stretching him wide.

  "Oh. Full. Full, Jess.” Mike twisted, riding him harder.

  "Be my cock in a minute. That'll be even fuller.” He pulled his fingers away, needing now. Now.

  "Yes. Yeah. Please. I need."

  Groaning, he pushed in, slowly going deep and deeper.

  "Oh. Damn.” Mike tilted, moaning low.

  "So hot. Tight.” He moaned and shuddered, body nothing but pleasure.

  "Yours."

  "Yeah. Yeah.” He nodded, the word, the truth of it in Mike's voice making him moan and start to thrust, pushing deep on each in-stroke.

  "Uh. Oh. Oh, Jessy. Yeah.” Mike's hands were on his ass, tugging him deeper.

  Groaning, he lost himself in Mike's body, in the rhythm and heat of their coupling. It was so easy, to fly, to float along, held inside Mike. Nothing could last forever, though, and as he felt himself get close, he wrapped his hand around Mike's cock, tugging with each thrust. Mike grunted, bucking into his hand, head rolling.

  "That's it, baby, show me how good it is."

  "S ... so good. Oh, Jess. I ... More."

  He tightened his hand and drove harder into Mike, bending to fuse their mouths together in a hot kiss. Mike groaned, coming hard, heat spraying over his hand. The hot body squeezing him tight forced his own orgasm out of him, his seed pushing deep into Mike. He kept moving, small thrusts that made them both shudder and then he collapsed onto Mike.

  Mike curled around him. “Oh. Yeah."

  "Mmm. Yeah.” He nuzzled into Mike's neck, breathing in deeply. He was addicted to this scent, needed it.

  Mike purred, holding him, rocking them slowly together. “Love."

  He nodded and licked at Mike's neck, whispering the word back to him.

  "Mmm.” His head was stroked, Mike petting him, loving on him.

  He purred, sated and happy.

  It was good. Damned good.

  Worth making a Thanksgiving dinner good, even.

  * * * *

  Okay. So.

  Hot dogs.

  Buns.

  Chili.

  Chips.

  Twinkies.

  Dude.

  Mike packed the groceries in his saddlebags, shivering a little in his leather jacket. Man, he liked it being his night to cook.

  He hurried home, the rain turning to sleet about halfway there, the traffic hideous and snarly. By the time he made it to the house, he had actually walked Bonzo the last mile, the roads slick enough to be dangerous. Jessy met him on the driveway, mouth tight, eyes worried.

>   "Your cell phone busted?"

  He tilted his head, patting his pockets ‘til he found his phone. “Don't have a signal, Coach. Damn, it's slicker than snot out here. I walked the last bit."

  "I know, I thought you'd wiped out.” Jessy grabbed Bonzo and wheeled her into the garage. “I bet you're an icicle. Go jump in the shower, I'll unload."

  "No. I didn't want to risk a bad fall, you know?” His teeth were chattering. “Man, does the news say it's gonna be evil tomorrow?"

  "Yeah, next couple three days. Go on. Get warm. Now."

  He nodded, hurrying upstairs, stripping as he went. The shower felt good, and he turned the heat up, getting warm all the way through. Jessy eventually joined him, hands sliding over his skin, mouth finding his shoulder and sucking the water from it.

  "Mmm ... Hey. I bought ... uh ... supper stuff.... “He arched, moaning low.

  "Is that what you're calling Twinkies these days?"

  "That's dessert, man. You said to get something I knew how to cook.” He smiled at Jessy. He'd been good. No chocolate. No soda.

  "I threw them out. I'll make butterscotch pudding.” Jessy's fingers slid over his cheek, caressing.

  "You...” He frowned. “But I was good."

  "Did I say you weren't?"

  "Well. No, but you threw our dessert out."

  "It's not on your approved foods list, baby, that's all.” Jessy chuckled. “Especially when coupled with hot dogs, chili and chips."

  "Our other option was fried bologna sandwiches.” He tried not to pout. Really. “Can we have whipped cream on the pudding?"

  "If we have any—you're not going back out.” Jessy licked his lower lip. “I'm definitely going to have to teach you how to cook."

  "I do okay. I can order pizza.” He rubbed his nose against Jessy's. He didn't think he'd mind cooking, really. He liked doing things.

  Jessy laughed and licked his lip again, tongue sliding into his mouth for just a moment. “You're not allowed pizza either, baby."

  He chuckled, cuddling close. “Meanie."

  "Oh, that doesn't make me a meanie. This,” Jessy pinched his ass, “makes me a meanie."

  "No pinching!” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Be good or no chili dogs for you!"

  "Can't have that—how would I ever survive?"

  Mike chuckled. “I don't know. You tossed the Twinkies."