Pinned

Chapter 10

Lance

“I just hate the long bus rides.” I groused to John on the phone.

“Just throw in some headphones and it’ll be over before you know it,” My Sir consoles.

“Headphones don’t cover the lack of A/C. Or the smell on the drive home.” I poke my head around the corner and eye the yellow monstrosity my teammates are loading on to.

We have an away match today, a place far enough to need a bus, but close enough that we won’t have to stay anywhere overnight. But since the wrestling team isn’t as ‘popular’ as say, football, we don’t get the nice chartered buses. We get to use those big yellow fucks I rode in high school. And some teammates like skipping the showers after a match. I like a musky guy, but even I have my limits.

“Somehow I think you’ll survive, ” John deadpans. “Besides, I think it’ll be late enough to sneak you into my room by the time you’re back.”

“Yeah…” My face is stuck somewhere between a smile and a frown. It’s not that I’m not looking forward to seeing John. It just also reminds me of the last time I spent the night three weeks ago, the one followed by the morning that led to my current...predicament.

As if on cue, I see Brian making his way towards the bus. The source of my current woes. Or at least most of them, anyway. Ever since that blowjob in the locker room, he’s demanded more and more of my time. I’ve been sucking him off almost every other day now, and I swear every time I do he finds some new way to humiliate me. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague, but with what he has on me I can’t just--

“You there, boy?” Sir snaps me back to reality.

“Yes, Sir, sorry.” I try to shake off the negative feelings the memories are bringing off. “I think I’ve gotta get going.

“Alright, boy. Break a leg. But not literally,” he jokes. “...Love you.”

“Love you, too, Sir.” That bit is still kinda new. But I like it. When it doesn’t make me feel guilty as hell.

I hang up the phone and make my way towards the bus, craning my head around. I lost sight of Brian and that makes me nervous. Luckily I spot Joey lining up to get on and I quickly squeeze in behind him. We both slide into a seat in the middle of the bus, and not a minute later I see Brian walking past me down the aisle for a seat of his own. He smirks as he passes me, but says nothing.

“Just once, I’d like to geta bus with A/C,” Joey gripes to my right.

“Then join the football team, bro.” At least it wasn’t Summer. “Probably finally get a date that way too.”

“C’mon Lance, you know I wouldn’t cheat on your mom like that.” Joey pats my knee as he jokes.

I elbow Joey in the rib. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad day after all.


It has been a terrible fucking day.

The bus ride was okay, and we got to the home team’s arena without any problems. And that’s when all the problems started. First, I barely made my weigh-in. Like I was seriously considering shaving my head if the damn scale didn’t balance. Now, you’d think maybe someone with a little extra weight might have the advantage over their opponent. Except I lost all my matches. Almost embarrassingly fast.

Every second I sat on that bench afterward, all I could think about was getting on the bus and going home. I was the first one out of the locker room after the game and the first one on the bus. And then not half an hour later, a thunderstorm hits. One bad enough to get our bus driver to pull off the highway and into the shitty little motel we are currently checking into for the night.

‘So it looks like I won’t be sneaking in tonight after all,’ I fire off a second text to John after detailing my afternoon in the first. The rest of the team and I are hanging out in the motel’s dingy lobby while the coaches are dealing with the front desk. Joey was just with me but ran into the bathroom to piss, and since we’re gonna room together this might be the only chance I get to talk to John tonight.

‘I’m sorry you had such a shitty day, boy,’ John responds the way I’d expect him to. Not like he can do anything for me from here. ‘Miss you :(‘

‘Miss you too, Sir.’ I pocket my phone with a sigh.

“Aww, talking to your boyfriend?” Goddamnit, that’s Brian.

“Get the fuck outta my face, dude.” I am not dealing with this right now.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your roomie for the night?” Brian held up a couple of the motel’s keycards.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask as if I don’t understand exactly what he is talking about.

“Aww, it was no problem, bro. I let coach know we’d be bunking together for the night,” he grins like a creep.

“The fuck we are.” I push past him and make my way towards Coach Timms, who is handing out keycards to the rest of the team.

“You sure about that, Stevens?” A hand on my shoulder pulls me back. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene or anything, right? I’d hate to send any of those pictures out.”

I ball my fists up. I want to punch him so badly right now. But that would only cause more of a scene. Blackmailing piece of shit. “What’s our room number?” I manage to grit out without cursing.

“206.” He holds out one of the cards as I turn around. With that fucking smirk on his face. “See you there.”

I just roll my eyes and take the proffered key. Anything I want to say to him will have to be in the room. I turn and look at the motel’s signs figuring out exactly where our room is. I’m not in a rush to get there exactly, but the longer I’m out here, the more chance of Joey coming back, and I’m not quite sure how I’m going to explain to him why I decided to room with this douchebag. I head for the room without saying another word to Brian.

It’s your pretty standard shitty motel room. Dingy wallpaper, crappy soap, and a crappy TV with basic cable. Whatever. I flop on the bed furthest from the door and turn on the TV. I expected Brian to be not too far behind me, but it’s almost thirty minutes until the door finally opens and he walks in. Holding a plastic bag. I sit up and eye it warily.

“What, no hello?” He pouts.

I still say nothing, watching him toss the bag onto the other bed before ripping off his shirt. Ugh. I turn back to the TV.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what’s in the bag?” He stands next to the empty bed, grinning.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” I roll my eyes and continue to not stare at his shirtless torso.

“Hey, come on, bro. I got you a present.” He reaches into the bag and holds up the small box he pulls from inside.

“What the fuck is that?” Again with the questions that I already know the answer to.

“You know what this is.” He wiggles the enema kit in his hand for emphasis.

“There is no fucking way I am--”

“Do you really wanna do this, Lance? Fight me on this, here, now, with all our teammates literally in the rooms next to us?” He tosses the box onto my bed next to me.

“I’m not--”

“Yes, you are. I wasn’t asking you.” His tone shifts in anger. “Now get in the bathroom and clean out your ass. The sooner you quit bitching, the sooner we can have some fun and then sleep. Unlike you, some of us actually won our matches today, and I’m exhausted.”

I pick the box up, my hand shaking in rage. I seriously consider tackling him and trying to jam it down his throat. Just for a moment. And then I silently, angrily, stomp my way into the bathroom. I feel fucking humiliated. My mind is on fire with rage.

And my fucking dick is already stiffening up.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I lock the door - the last thing I want is for that dick to come barging in here while I’m… Ugh. For a moment, I think about just keeping the door locked and bunking in here for the night...but I have a feeling Brian won’t exactly let me get away with that. I look at myself in the mirror. Am I really doing this?

I turn the enema box over in my hand, not reading - I know how to use one of these - just thinking. How am I going to ‘explain’ this one to John? Up until now, I’ve been able to explain away the blowjobs as with the same ‘closeted jock’ excuse, but getting fucked during an away game? Do I just lie and not tell--

*knock knock*

“I don’t hear any water.” Brian’s voice calls from the other side of the door. “I know you didn’t work all that hard today, but I actually did want to get some sleep tonight, so hurry it the fuck up.”

I stare daggers at the door but say nothing. What, is this asshole listening to me douche now? I walk towards the shower and turn on the faucet. At least with the water running, it’ll be harder to listen. Without much else to do, I take my clothes off. I turn the box over one more time, before ripping open the top. I pull out the contents and dump the saline liquid already inside in the sink. Let’s get this over with.

The whole process takes longer than it normally would. I haven’t exactly been eating like I was expecting to do this tonight, especially after a match. Even John wouldn’t have expected... Nope. Not going to think about him right now. Just going to pretend like I’m not being humiliated by what I’m being forced to do in this bathroom right now.

I check my phone when I’m finally ‘finished’ - and see a bunch of messages from Joey, wondering what happened. I’ll have to think of something to tell him before the bus ride home in the morning. Looks like all of that took me about 50 minutes. Not bad considering where I am and the tools at my disposal, but I wonder if I shouldn’t have tried to stretch it out even longer. Maybe I’ll get lucky and when I get out there, he’ll be passed out already.

On the off-chance I’m right, I pull on my underwear, grab the rest of my clothes, and slowly open the door.

“About damn time.” No such luck. I can feel my heart hit my stomach at the sound of Brian’s voice. “Thought you were going to spend all night in there.”

Really wishing I had. He’s lying on the same bed I was before, already stripped down to his boxers. Just waiting for me. Hell, he already looks half hard.

“Aww, that hungry for my dick?” Ugh, caught me looking at his dick. “Well put your clothes down and get over here already.”

With a sigh, I do as requested, leaving my towel and clothes in a pile on the other bed before turning to his. I leave my boxer-briefs on. Maybe I can still get out of this with just a blowjob. I don’t climb on the bed, I just kneel next to it, and reach over to his crotch, rubbing the fabric against his dick.

He cocks an eyebrow but says nothing. Taking his silence as permission, I reach into his waistband and fish him out, tucking the waistband under his balls. I lower my head, taking his head into my mouth, slowly swirling my tongue around the crown. He’s already been leaking a lot of precum, and I taste it immediately.

For the first time since he started blackmailing, I’m actually trying to take my time sucking him off. The longer I draw this out, and the better I do this, the better the chance of me getting out of this with my ass unfilled. At least I hope so.

I lower myself down his shaft, slowly swallowing every inch of his length. He’s filling my throat, and if it weren’t for John regularly filling it even more, I’d probably be gagging right now. I pull back up just as slowly, leaving only the tip, before moving my way back down. I bob slowly for a minute or two, my right hand cupping his balls.

My plan seems to be working, at least until I lift off to nuzzle his nutsack, and I feel a warm hand sliding down my back and into the waistband of my underwear. Goddamnit. I don’t say anything, not that I really can with my mouthful. At first, he seems content to just rub his hand over my ass, but before long, he’s grabbing and squeezing at me.

The longer I suck his cock, the more forceful he gets with his groping until finally, I can feel his fingers start to wander. At first, it’s just a slow stroking of his finger up and down my crack, but as he’s pushing my head down with left hand, he wiggles into my crack with his right. At the angle I’m kneeling, my ass is actually spread pretty decently, but he doesn’t quite have the reach from where he’s sitting. So to fix that, he sits up, which forces my head down even further, but allows his fingers to reach their target - my hole.

The sudden thrust into my throat has me sputtering, and I have to reposition my head to keep working. All while I feel Brian’s thick, rough fingers probing at my ass. He’s just rubbing at first, thankfully not too roughly because those fingers are dry. But soon enough I feel a fingertip prodding at my hole, trying to gain entrance. This might actually feel good with some lube or even spit, but after my previous plan backfired I’m not looking to give him more excuses to think I like this.

He’s not at it for too long though, signaling as much with a smack on my ass.

“Take those off,” he instructs as he sits back up on the bed. “Then get up here on the bed.”

He moves up the bed, pulling his cock from my mouth as he goes. He sits against the headboard and pats the area between his legs, his hard cock pulsing slightly as it points towards the ceiling. Out of options, I stand and move my hands to my waistband.

“Do we really have to--”

“Are you seriously gonna fight me on this? Now?” He pats the bed again. “Drop ‘em, and get on the bed.”

With a sigh, I hook my thumbs in my waistband and lower my boxer briefs. I kick them off, not bothering to pay attention to where they land. I’ll find them later. Let’s just get this shitshow over with. I climb onto the bed towards his dick.

“Stick your ass in the air.” The sudden order makes me stumble. “I can see why John picked you to be his fucktoy.”

“Don’t talk about him,” I mumble as I finish my crawl, red-faced with my ass arched as requested. Thinking about John is the last thing I want to do right now.

He rolls his eyes but says nothing, and I silently get back to sucking his cock. From this position, he’s much more ‘hands-on’ - specifically on the back of my head, forcing me down and holding me there. He grips my hair forcefully - maybe I should get a haircut - and moves my head up and down as he pleases.

He seems pretty content with the blowjob, as rough as it is getting, but my hopes of this still being an oral-only adventure are dashed once again when he leans forward to tease and smack at my now-exposed ass. Each time he does I am again forced down on him to the hilt, but with the way he’s been fucking my face, it’s not unexpected this time. He’s only at it for a few minutes before he releases my head, allowing me to sit back on my haunches and catch my breath.

“Alright, enough of that.” He sits back and strokes his wet cock, smirking. “Turn around and get your ass in the air.”

Fuck. Time for the main event I guess. I turn slowly, racking my brain for any ideas to get out of this. “Wait!” I stop in my tracks. “Did you buy condoms too?” That might work, right?

“Like you and your man use condoms,” he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Shut up and turn around, bitch.”

I sigh, finish turning, and lay my head down in defeat.

“Raise your ass up.” I feel a sudden swat on my side. “I’m not as short as your master.”

I am really glad John doesn’t make me call him that. I do as I’m told, Brian’s hand on my hip helping to guide me to his requested height. I bury my head in the bed, thankful that Brian at least stripped off the grimy comforter. I hear the pop of what I assume to be a lube bottle - another CVS purchase, thank god - and the schlick sounds of it being rubbed across a dick. I just wanna get this over with.

“Alright,” he taps his wet cock against my ass, not bothering to lube me up. “Let’s see how loose you are.”

“Hey, fuck yo--” The insult gets the exact reaction he was hoping for, and he cuts me off by thrusting forward and burying the first half of his dick in my hole. I quickly bite into my wrist to muffle my yell. At least the years of sneaking around have given me good reflexes.

“You are seriously too easy,” he smacks my half-stuffed rump before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside. “In more ways than one.”

I say nothing, still muffling my mouth while I catch my breath after the sudden intrusion. I guess I should be thankful that John has turned me into such a good bottom. Although I guess that’s kind of what got me into this situation in the first place.

“Fuck, you are tight.” Another spank. “Way tighter than I expected.”

“Really? John’s way bigger so I’m as surprised as you.” I am more then willing to take a shot at myself if I can make one at him.

“Guess I’ll just have to fuck you harder, then.” He punctuates his sentences by pulling out and thrusting back in suddenly. I really just need to keep my mouth shut around him.

True to his word, Brian seems intent on making every thrust count. Every time he slams home there’s a loud SLAP of our skin meeting. It’s like he’s trying to knock the wind out of me. I grab one of the pillows in front of me to bury my face in. It’s a lot easier to muffle my groans this way.

Eventually, Brian gets tired of “punishing” me and his thrusts mellow out into so that I’m not grunting into the pillow anymore. This actually doesn’t feel too bad, but I’m not making any noise at all. He might be able to make me do this, but he can’t make me enjoy it. All I’m doing is staring straight ahead at the headboard.

“What’s the matter, not enjoying yourself?” Brian gives my ass another smack.

“If it was literally anyone but you doing it, maybe.” The eye roll I just did was entirely involuntary.

“Hmmph.” He spanks me again but says nothing, just keeps on fucking. Wow, did I finally shut him up?

“Can you just hurry up and finish?” Alright, maybe I feel a little cocky about that. “I just want to go to--” I cut myself off. Oh no.

“Sleep.” I finish my sentence and gently lower my face back down to the pillow. We have a problem. I have a problem. Although I didn’t think of it as a problem until right this minute. So, ever since the night Sir tied me down and gave me my first prostate orgasm… It’s like a switch got flipped. I’ve been having them every time we’ve fucked since. I even showed Dave once with my dildo. It’s been amazing...until just now when I felt my hole give a twitch. I never considered the same thing happening with Brian.

But it is.

Still, I’m okay. I think I can handle this. It feels good, but not great. If I just concentrate on other things I can ignore this. As long as he doesn’t change the angle of his hips or--Ooooooh no.

“You alright?” There’s genuine concern in his voice, probably because he’s feeling my hole twitch and me fighting to make my hole not twitch, which I didn’t realize was a skill I needed until just now.

“MMmHhmm!” I squeak out way too loudly. That didn’t sound like a human noise. I mash my face further into the pillow, biting my lip to prevent any other inhuman noises from escaping. Brian doesn’t say anything else and keeps fucking, which is pushing me closer and closer oh fuck I cantholdbackanymore.

“What the hell? What is... What is this?” Brian stops his movements entirely, though it’s already too late, I’m cumming and I can feel my hole bearing down on him.

“What the hell was that?” He spanks my ass when I don’t answer. I turn my head to the side, now that I’m not riding the end of that orgasm, I can catch my breath.

He spanks me again before bending over and grabbing my hair. “Answer me. You trying to push me out or something?”

“Oww, fuck, no. I was…” Goddamnit, I really don’t want to tell him this. He spanks me again, twice. “OWW! I was just cumming, fuck!”

“You came?” He reaches under us to feel my still mostly-soft cock.

“No, not like… Ugh.” I lift myself up a little so I can look under myself. Just a steady stream of precum, like usual. “Not like that.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” He releases my hair but smacks my ass again.

“Will you fucking stop that!” I reach back to rub my sore ass. “It’s a prostate thing.”

“Ooohhh.” It all clicks in his head. “Guess I’m fucking you pretty good after all, huh?”

I don’t answer, just grab the pillow ahead of me hold my position. Arguing might draw this out longer and I just want to be done. The last thing I want is for him to think this is going to give him even more leverage.

Another smack on the ass, and then Brian is back to pounding my ass. And armed with the knowledge of my overly-sensitive prostate, he seems intent on a repeat performance. He’s fucking me just like he was a second ago, same speed, same stroke, same steady sound of skin hitting skin. I hate it.

But I also love it. Fuck, I can feel the pressure starting to build again. The muscles in my stomach get tighter, almost like you’ve been doing crunches all day. Then I can feel my hole start to spasm, trying to push. I’m trying to fight it - really I am - just like I used to. But fuck, that dick. It just keeps hitting me over and over, in just the right spot.

“Fuck…” I groan out before I quickly eat pillow to drown out the rest. As soon as it’s over, I turn my head to the side and breathe deep. Brian never stops fucking.

He really seems to have found his rhythm, and it’s one that he keeps up for another few minutes. I start to feel my third orgasm building, arms ready to hug the pillow to my face. Just as my head hits the pillow, I can feel him slow down.

“No…” Fuck, was that me?

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Brian slows to an even lazier speed. “Now you want me to keep fucking you?”

“No, just…” I defend. I don’t want him fucking me. But if he’s going to, I--

“Beg me to keep fucking you.” He cuts off my thought.

“What?” The fuck is he talking about?

“You want to act like you hate me fucking you so much, fine.” Another spank, fuck that’s really starting to hurt. “I’ll just switch to using your mouth the rest of the night, unless you beg me to keep fucking you.”

Brian goes still while he waits for my answer. I want to whine in frustration. I don’t want him to fuck me anymore. I also don’t want to suck his dick all night. And if I have to choose between the two… At least I can enjoy getting fucked, right?

Begging though? Asshole.

“Please, keep fucking me,” I mumble out, mostly into the pillow.

“What was that?” Spank.

“Oww! Please, keep fucking me.” I grit out.

“Aww, that’s all you had to ask for.” Brian mock-soothes, resuming his leisurely fuck.

Happy that that is the end of it, I go back to preparing to pillow-bite, my prostate already being pleasantly pounded. Hell, as long as he doesn’t talk, I can pretend it’s anybody fucking me. John, that daddy we met at Barcodes, Mr. Pittard my algebra professor… fuck, here it comes! I sink my teeth into the fabric as another p-gasm washes over me. Alright, I might have a crush on my math teacher this semester.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Thanks for stating the obvious. “Flip over.” Do what now?

“Why?” Don’t ruin this too.

“Because I want to see what your face looks like when I make you cum.” Gross.

“It’ll be harder for me to keep quiet,” I argue, probably in vain.

“Guess you’ll have to work harder if you don’t want someone to hear.” Spank.

“Fine.” I acquiesce, rolling onto my back. Brian wastes no time, grabbing and lifting my legs.

“Hold those apart.” He motions at my thighs.

I obey, silently holding myself open for someone I despise, trying not to blush. Back to “just wishing this was over with.”

Brian spits in his hand and re-slicks his dick - not that he needs it. He shuffles between my spread legs and aims for his target. As soon as his head is in, both his hands go to the backs of my thighs, pressing them down and taking over my thigh spreading duties. My own prick flops uselessly on my belly while he spears the rest of his home.

I close my eyes and let my head fall back. I love when Sir fucks me like this. The angle on my prostate is amazing, but it’s really more the being held down that gets me. All his weight pressing down on me, holding me open, making me take him…

Fuck. But it’s not Sir fucking me. I just wish I could tell my body that because I can feel orgasm #5 coming up. Especially if he keeps on hitting me right there, fuck. Alright, I’m not complimenting him here, but he fucks way better missionary then he does doggy. I reach blindly for the pillow to cover my face because, fuck, I’m gonna cum again.

“Nope.” Brian swats the pillow off the bed then goes right back to fucking. “Told you, I want to see your bitch face when I make you cum.”

Ugh, make me cum. I mean, that is what he’s doing, but fuck him. With no other options, I bring my wrist to my mouth and muffle myself the best I can, my eyes scrunching up involuntarily. Brian laughs audibly at my display, and I swear I just felt his dick swell.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” Brian’s praise seems to be directed mostly at himself. “Let’s see how many times I can make you do that before I cum in your ass.”


Three is the answer, I think numbly as I recover from the aftershocks of said third orgasm. At least that’s what the counter is at. I swear, every time he made me cum I felt his dick get even bigger. Thankfully, Brian’s strokes are starting to get sloppy, and he’s building up quite a sweat. One that is dripping all over me, which is admittedly pretty hot.

“Fuck, I’m getting close.” Oh, thank god. I don’t have the energy to fight or do anything beyond making sure I don’t make any noise. I’m just taking it.

“Fuck…” Brian starts moving faster and faster, the mattress squeaking underneath him. I’m glad this cheap motel bolts the headboards to the wall or that would be noisy as hell too. The slapping against my thighs, the sweat pouring onto me, the dick in my ass growing even bigger. This is it!

And now my thigh is dropping and there’s a hand around my throat. My eyes shoot up.

“Take. My. Fucking. Load.” Brian practically growls, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips, and a volley of his cum.

The hand around my neck tightens - not enough to cut off any air, but I notice it. Brian buries himself in me as deep as he can, holding it there. His eyes are shut and the look on his face is… well, he’s definitely enjoying himself. I can feel the warm stickiness of his load inside me. Again, under any other circumstances, this would be hot.

… It still kinda is.

“Fuck, that was awesome.” Brian’s sudden declaration thankfully draws my attention away from that dark thought. He releases my neck and thigh and starts to pull out.

I remain silent as my feet hit the mattress, my eyes scrunching up as I feel his cock slip out of my ass, as the wet feeling that follows. At least it’s not my bed. Brian hops off the bed to use the bathroom. I spot my towel from earlier on the floor and grab it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He leans against the bathroom doorway.

“To sleep?” I wipe some of the sweat and precum off. Where does he think I’m going?

“Uh uh. You’re bunking with me tonight.” He points back at the bed we just fucked on. “If I get horny again tonight I don’t want you far.”

My stomach drops at hearing that. Not only do I not want to fuck him again, but that’s yet another thing John does that he’s gonna ruin for me. I fucking hate him. I just want this night to be over.


“Good morning sunshine!” Brian chirps cheerily in my ear. It’s way too early for this. Not that I got any sleep last night.

Brian fucked me twice more after we went to bed, at 3 and 5 am. I groggily look at the red numbers on the alarm clock on the nightstand between the beds. Just after 7. We’d probably be headed out of here in the next hour or two. Good.

“Good, you’re up.” My shuffling must have tipped him off. “I wanna get one more fuck in before we get on the bus.” He grinds his morning-wood against my sore and sloppy ass. I honestly don’t even want to think about what my hole looks like right now. I just want to get in that shower and go home.

I hear him spit in his hand - too lazy to look for the lube - and feel his cock start to poke at my hole. I let him do what he wants. I’m tired, and even if I had the energy to fight him, what’s the point? I’m just numb to this now.

It’s a fuck lacking any finesse or skill. Just quick, jackrabbit humping against my ass. I don’t know how he still has the stamina after breeding me three times last night, but he’s not tired or slowing down. I’m glad he’s not drawing this out again at least.

And hey, it still feels good. With the pillow right under my head, I can keep pretty quiet, so I just close my eyes and let him pound away. About ten minutes later, just as he pushes me over my own edge, the arm he’s got around my waist starts pulling me back towards him, and then he’s dumping load number four into my hole.

“Aww, we came together.” He pants in my ear. Ugh.

“You gonna shower, or can I?” Just gonna blow past that for now.

“Ladies first.” He reaches off the bed to swat my ass as I make my escape. Ugh. Would he stop acting like this is some kind of a date?

I take a nice, long, hot shower. I use the shitty hotel soap to scrub every inch of skin on my body, and I make sure to push out ever load that asshole dumped in me. I look at myself in the mirror when I get out. I look like shit. And I feel like a fucking whore. If John hadn’t turned me into such a pro bottom, my hole would be on fire right now.

Brian hops in the shower when I get out, silent now that he’s finally had his fill of my ass. I don’t bother waiting for him to get out, I get dressed, grab my bags, and get to the lobby. This motel is way too cheap to have breakfast or anything, but I cannot spend one more second in that room. Thankfully I’m not waiting long, my teammates start to gather and about half an hour later, we’re getting back on our shitty school bus. I see Brian, but he keeps his distance, only smirking at me as he passes me down the bus aisle, just like yesterday.

“Hey, man. What happened last night?” Joey asks as he slides into the seat next to me. “When I came back from the bathroom the guys said you were rooming with that dickhead.”

“Yeah. Trust me, I didn’t pick him but coach wasn’t letting me argue.” I lie through my teeth. That sounded believable, right?

“That sucks man, how was your night? No offense but...you look like shit.” Good old Joey, never pulling his punches.

“It was a nightmare dude.” Alright, time for some fake details. “He snores so fucking loud.”

“Yeah, you look like you didn’t sleep at all.” Feels that way too, buddy.

“I feel like I might pass out on the trip back.” That actually feels true.

Using my exhaustion to my advantage leads to a fairly quiet ride home. It seems to be the mood between everyone really, the whole bus is pretty silent. By the time we’re back at campus and filing off, Joey and just give each other a silent wave goodbye and go our separate ways. I’ve never been so thankful to see my front door before.

“Hey man!” Dave says way too cheerily as I enter.

“Hey.” I don’t hide the exhaustion in my voice.

“Shit, rough night?” You don’t know the half of it man.

“Yeah, didn’t get any sleep last night.” I dump my bag near my bed. “I’m just gonna pass out for a few hours, okay?”

“Yeah, man. You might wanna clear off your bed first though.” He nods behind me.

I turn to see what he’s talking about. It’s on my pillow. Oh.

“Yeah, your Sir ran by last night when he found out you weren’t gonna make it home.” Of course he did, he’s the best.

It’s nothing fancy. A few things, a note, scrawled in his terrible handwriting that just says “Miss you.” A chocolate bar, okay my favorite chocolate bar, that you normally can’t find on campus. And a - hold on, let me sniff it - yep, a used jock, that smells just like him. It makes me smile. It’s perfect.

I have to break up with him.