We got to our seats, packed in close. I hadn't brought any kind of stadium cushion, and after just a few minutes my thighs and ass were already starting to tingle.
"So your guy is second string today, right? That means he's not playing?"
I knew who he was talking about immediately, and I looked out across the field where some of the players were stretching and doing warm-ups. I didn't see Ty among them.
"Not necessarily," I said, my jaw tightening as a wave of fresh bitterness coursed through me. "They'll pull starters late in the game if there's a lead. Have to preserve them, just to put in a guy who shouldn't be on the field to begin with."
"I don't get it," Elliot said, shaking his head. "Is it a scholarship thing? Do they have to play so many games or they're dropped?"
"Sometimes, but usually that's only negotiated for high-profile players. It's more a money thing. They want him out there playing because he's an asset. He makes big plays that put butts in seats."
"Yeah, well, he won't be able to make any plays if he'd laid out for months with re-injury."
"Yeeep." My fingers curled tightly around the edge of the seat. "Trust me, I know."
Elliot looked over at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lift his hand as if to touch me, then hesitate. "Sorry, I'm sure me going on about this isn't helping anything."
"It's fine. Just good to know even somebody who isn't 'in the trenches' can understand."
We were pretty early and that section of the stadium filled in around us. When the band started up to introduce the team, I felt the hairs on my arm stand on end, goosebumps prickling across my flesh. No matter how many times I saw this, it always had the same effect. The guys loved running out of the tunnel. It was a highlight for them every Saturday, and I loved seeing them doing something they were committed to more than anything else.
A lot of the guys I'd worked with before were in this starting bunch and I explained their cases to Elliot, having to strain my voice to be heard over the speakers. By about the fifth kid, he laughed.
"What?"
The soft smile he gave me made my heart do a stupid little flip.
"I feel the same way about my own kids. I feel like decades from now I'll still remember my favorites," he said almost wistfully.
I guess our jobs were similar in that way. We were both looking out for young adults who were trying to navigate the heartless world around them. People who were often pushed aside by society, told who and what they could be at a young age. People who were defying those labels against all odds, but who still had an uphill battle.
It brought me some comfort and made me feel a sense of kinship with the man beside me. He got it. He'd understand why I cringed and felt every hard hit. Why I would pace the stands if a player was slow to rise. Why I hated hearing any of the coaches berating them endlessly.
It was a nice feeling. Every other boyfriend I'd had told me I was just being oversensitive, and--
He's not your boyfriend, dumbass. Stop thinking of him like he is.
That snapped me out of the soft, fuzzy place I'd somehow gotten myself into. The voice I heard moments after, meanwhile, ripped any shred of comfort away with a merciless yank.
"Reuben Adelstein?" There was a pause, but I'd already gone stiff. I knew exactly who it was. "Holy shit, it is you!"
The man standing way too close for comfort was tall and skinny, his tight clothes helping to sell the illusion that he was some kind of model. His hair was styled into the stupidest fucking pompadour I'd ever seen, two-tone with the top a honey blond and the rest black. He wore big, spacer earrings in his ears and studs in his eyebrows, with a little eyeliner around his eyes for good measure. I knew from experience that his nipples were pierced, too, and he went crazy with the manscaping.
"Kayden," I said, trying to keep my voice at least civil. "Good to see you again."
It wasn't. Not even a little bit. I could feel the hurt and anger bubbling up in me, trying to escape from the place I'd locked it away so many years ago.
He was pressed up against a well-built, hairy guy -- his usual type -- who had his hand firmly on one of Kayden's ass cheeks.
"Oh my God, it's so good to see you!"
The performative flamboyance made me sick to my stomach. Men who were naturally high-energy and just like that in general were great. No problem at all with that, or how anyone wanted to express their queerness. But that wasn't what Kayden was doing. He was playing up the role that got him the most dick. He'd always been that way, flowing freely from one state to the next depending on what he thought others would like best.
I faked a smile, but it faded visibly as Kayden sat down right beside me.
"Our tickets are right next to each other. Such a coincydink, huh?"
Again my stomach turned. "Yeah. Especially since I've never known you to enjoy football."
"What are you talking about? Guys in tight pants grabbing for each other constantly? Sign me up."
I felt Elliot shift beside me, and shame washed over me as I realized I'd almost forgotten he was there. Fuck. Even after all these years, Kayden had a way of monopolizing things. Only this time I wasn't desperate for him to love me. I was just desperate for him to go the fuck away.
"Kayden, this is Elliot. Elliot, Kayden."
I stubbornly didn't want to introduce Elliot as just a friend, so I left it at the name. He leaned forward and smiled at Kayden, extending his hand to shake. Kayden grasped it in the most falsely delicate way imaginable.
"And this is Mark." He leaned close enough that I could smell the abundance of product in his hair. "Not a lot going on upstairs, but oh good lord, honey, there's so much going on downstairs, if you know what I mean. That thing should be a lethal weapon. I swear he splits me--"
"Nice to meet you, Mark," I said, cutting off Kayden's enthusiastic description of his boy toy's dick. "Sorry, not really interested in what you've got going on downstairs."
Mark just shrugged, his shoulder muscles seeming to take on a life of their own. "More for everybody else."
Kayden gasped, smacking him in one of his large pecs. "Don't you mean more for me? You'll pay for that later, you naughty--"
I tuned them out and turned back to Elliot, feeling way more uncomfortable with this situation than he somehow looked.
"I'm sorry about this," I whispered. "This is the last place I'd ever expect to see him."
"It's all right. Not like you invited him," he said reassuringly. His expression grew pensive and he added, "You going to be okay?"
I wasn't sure how to answer that, and I had a feeling my face gave me away. He squeezed my knee in a friendly, supportive gesture, and I put my hand over top of his in gratitude.
"Oh! I didn't realize you two were together," Kayden quipped. "You're so not his usual type I didn't even think of it."
I was torn between wanting to correct him and wanting to tell him he had no idea what my type was.
"We--"
"--are, actually," Elliot said, surprising the hell out of me. "We've been dating for a few months now."
He moved closer to me, catching my gaze with a silent question as he reached for my hand. I gave the slightest nod and he twined our fingers together, resting our joined hands on my knee.
The strangest thing happened after that. It wasn't just the flutter of my heart or the warmth that flooded through me at the gentle contact. It was the expression on Kayden's face. He looked like he'd just licked a brick of the world's moldiest cheese. He cuddled up close to Mark, half in his lap, and pulled one of the man's arms around him.
Fucking hell. How could one person be so petty and insecure? I had no idea what I ever saw in the guy beyond the physical. I'd loved him once. Now I just found him... sad.
Maybe that was hypocritical, because I definitely didn't find it sad when Elliot took the opportunity to one-up Kayden's obvious displays. I didn't know if Kayden was trying to make one of us jealous or what, but Elliot wasn't having it. When he leaned in to murmur
in Mark's ear, Elliot drew himself closer to me and skimmed his lips along my neck, just below my ear. I shivered, gaze darting around to see if anyone was watching, but they were focused on the game.
"Is this okay?" he whispered. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable; it just drives me crazy when people try to pull what he's trying to pull."
I hadn't needed to say Kayden was an ex. Even if Elliot wasn't smart enough to get that -- which he was -- the man himself had made it clear. Still, it was a comfort to know I wasn't crazy. Kayden obviously was doing this on purpose.
"No, I'll take any opportunity to piss him off," I whispered back. "Just don't be surprised if I take you back to my place and fuck you senseless after this."
"Oh, no. That would be the worst thing ever," he teased.
The rest of the game was a slowly mounting escalation; a game of chicken that had disastrous consequences for my dick as it grew harder every time Elliot one-upped Kayden.
There was nothing too obvious. I half-expected Kayden to slide all the way onto Mark's lap and start grinding against him at one point. But it mostly stuck to subtle stuff people wouldn't notice unless they were close and paying attention. Hands moving up thighs, fingers brushing over erections. Promises murmured in ears, lobes sucked into warm, wet mouths.
At one point I couldn't take it anymore and I took Elliot with me to "get a couple beers." Really, I found an out-of-the-way bathroom halfway across the stadium and once we were inside, I pushed him back against the door and kissed him hard, my lips finding his with bruising force.
He gripped my ass, pulling me close to him. I ground my hard dick against his, moaning into his mouth. I felt so damn needy, and I wanted him so bad.
"You're driving me fucking crazy," I breathed before diving in to kiss him again.
For as cramped and... unpleasant as the stadium bathrooms were, I would've gotten onto my knees and sucked him off until his eyes rolled back into his head if I'd had the chance. But we both heard someone getting close and we separated just in time, moving away from the door. We were both flushed and I had to discreetly adjust myself. Elliot left like things were completely normal, and I followed after making a show of washing my hands.
When I caught up with him, I was quick to say, "You wanna get out of here?"
"You sure you're okay with missing the rest of the game?"
I nodded. "Me being here won't change anything. Less chance I'll leap over the railing and take a swing at Ty's coach this way."
He laughed softly at that. "What about your good friend Kayden? I'm sure he'll miss you."
I rolled my eyes, a look of disgust on my face. "He's got Mark to keep him busy. And I've got you."
I saw something in his expression then. Something soft, obviously touched by my words. As we headed out of the stadium and toward my van, I couldn't find it in myself to regret it.
19
Reuben
It took every shred of my willpower not to just pull the car over, collapse the seats in the back, and take him there like we were shooting some kind of low budget Bang Bus porno.
Elliot definitely didn't make it any easier. His hand rested on my knee for the first half of the drive, then it slowly moved higher up my thigh. He leaned over the wide console to nip at my ear and press feather-light kisses along my neck, drawing a groan from me when he sucked at the junction between my neck and shoulder. By the time I pulled into my apartment complex, his hand was up between my thighs, his palm firmly placed over my hardening dick. He gave it a rough squeeze and I shuddered.
"You better cut that out," I warned him with a growl.
"Or what?" came the low response in my ear.
I pulled the keys from the ignition and gave him a smoldering look. "Or I'm going to pull you onto my lap and fuck you right here and now."
I'd always been careful, and I didn't like not using lube, even when my partner was relaxed. It was better to have that continual glide, and the lubrication just helped things move along better, giving a more controlled feeling to the friction.
Right now, I was so fucking horny I probably would have done it if he agreed.
"Is that supposed to be a threat, because it really doesn't work as one," he quipped, then added, "though I don't exactly want the steering wheel gouging me in the kidney every time you thrust."
I laughed at that, shaking my head. Then I reached for the handle of the car door and pushed it open before I could talk myself out of it. Elliot followed suit, meeting me in front of the van. I didn't really care who saw us at this point, so I looped my fingers into his jeans and tugged him forward, claiming his mouth in another bruising kiss.
He responded eagerly, practically humping my leg, grinding against me with no regard for who might be watching. This was far from the man I'd met -- the real Elliot, not the man he'd pretended to be -- and I loved this newfound confidence and disregard for public opinion.
But we did need to get inside. There were kids living in this apartment complex and I didn't want the cops knocking on my door because someone had gotten an eyeful of my hands on Elliot's ass.
He seemed to have similar thoughts, though they were specific to one kid. Breathlessly he asked, "What about David?"
"He's with Ruth this weekend. We're good."
"Good. I don't plan to be quiet."
He leaned in for one more slow, thorough kiss, our tongues exploring and stroking. I broke that one, leading him to my apartment. It was up a short flight of external stairs, though every one felt like climbing a mountain that stood between me and what I wanted.
I fumbled with my key, dropping the damn thing twice before I finally turned the lock. I all but dragged Elliot inside and he closed the door behind us. As soon as we were alone, I kissed him hard, using the force of my body to move him backward until I felt resistance from the couch. Then I pushed him down onto it and he laughed, his back and shoulders on the cushions but his ass still against the arm, his legs draped over it.
"That's not exactly ideal," he said, starting to scoot back a bit.
"What are you talking about? It's perfect."
I pulled off my shirt and tossed it aside, then prowled toward the couch. Before he could move back any further, I tugged off his shoes and then worked on the button of his jeans, pulling down the zipper. He wasn't fully hard yet, but I'd change that quickly. With my hands planted on the arm of the couch, I leaned over and mouthed the front of his boxers, snaking my tongue out to ease between the fabric, opening up the still-buttoned flap.
I licked him with that restriction, and something about it was so much hotter than just having his cock fully free and visible. Elliot seemed to agree because he moaned and squirmed, his arms straining as he buried his fingers in my hair.
I stroked along the underside of his length, feeling his flesh thicken beneath me. Finally I undid the snap and he pushed free of the flap all on his own. His gorgeous cock twitched and strained, but I focused on drawing down his boxers to free his balls, too. Turning my head to one side for better access, I drew one globe into my mouth and sucked it greedily, loving the strong, masculine taste of him there. I did the same with the other as Elliot continued to moan, lifting his hips off the arm of the couch.
In this position, I realized it would be so easy to pull his jeans and boxers all the way off, then tongue his hole until he begged me to fuck him. I had other plans for now, though.
Moving back up, I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, easing back the foreskin so I could lavish attention on the sensitive flesh.
"Reuben," he moaned, arching up toward me.
I used that movement to my advantage, placing my lips right above the head of his dick, so close they were touching it. When he arched upward again I parted them, taking him into my mouth. Elliot caught on quick and began to buck and thrust wildly upward, driving himself deeper into my mouth every time. My saliva ran down his shaft and I used it to stroke him firmly.
"Oh, fuck," he breathed.
There w
as so much I wanted to do to him, all of it focused on his pleasure. He'd saved my ass today, and he deserved to be rewarded for that.
So I kept working his dick with my lips, tongue, and hand. I sucked on the head, licked precum from the slit, squeezed and stroked the thick shaft.
His thighs started to tremble and his moans became an incomprehensible mess of gibberish. As I pushed on, his whole body tensed beneath me, warning me he was about to come. His dick jerked and spasmed violently in my mouth, splattering hot cut against the back of my throat. I swallowed it down greedily, sucking until he pulled away, his body shaking from the sensitivity.
"My turn," he gasped out once he'd regained his breath. "Come over here. I want your dick in my mouth."
He was getting a lot more comfortable just talking dirty as a baseline. I smirked, though, because I had other plans.
"Not yet."
Without any further explanation, I tugged his jeans off of him, then followed with the boxers. His cock was soft now, but I knew I could get it hard again before I was done.
Pressing my hands against the other side of his thighs, I lifted him up so his legs were almost directly over his head, his ass presented almost perfectly, aside from the angle. I moved my hands down to spread his cheeks and licked a stripe to his hole. Though I could reach it easily enough, the angle definitely was a little awkward. I teased along the puckered edge and Elliot squirmed, moaning more loudly. When I finally pressed the tip of my tongue in, I realized it was going to be a lot easier to give in. At least partly.
"Looks like you'll get your wish," I said, kicking off my own shoes and shedding my pants and briefs.
My dick was already hard and leaking precum, but I gave it a few strokes as I climbed over the couch, my knees on either side of his torso. I slanted my hips downward and Elliot took to the position immediately, gripping the base of my cock and wrapping his lips around the head.
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