Chapter 8


"Mmmf." My phone alarm is going off. From inside my pants. On the floor. Ugh.

I roll over and drag the upper half of my body towards the offending noise. Leaning over the edge, I stretch my arm wide, fingertips just barely connecting with my belt loops. Half of my body is hanging precariously off the bed. I refuse to get out before I have to. I pull my jeans towards me and pull the phone from the pocket.

I hate Saturday practices. I don't give them much thought until it's the morning after a party and I am forced to wake up at a decent hour. I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night, and I can already feel the soreness in my muscles. And ass. At least I didn't drink enough to be hungover.

"Hey." I turn to see John's sleepy face smiling at me, eyes half-lidded.

"Morning Sir." I smile back.

John rolls over and wraps his arm around my waist, shifting me so he's spooning up behind me. "Mmmm...practice?"

"Yes, Sir," I grumble.

"Boo." He nuzzles the back of my neck. "How you feeling?"

"Tired, sore." I know he's asking about last night, but I'm trying to draw this out as long as I can.

"That's cause I did my job." He bites my shoulder gently. "Any regrets?"

"No Sir, none," I shook my head. I was horny, but still pretty sober last night. I remember everything. And it was awesome. And John's right, if I can't trust these guys, my brothers, of all people, what am I doing here? Although I might look at Pete a little funny next time I see him with one of those paddles.

"Good. Thank you for letting me share that with you." He squeezes me tightly.

I let us lay there for a few more minutes before begrudgingly squeezing his wrist. "I gotta get going, Sir." I still have to run to my dorm to grab my gym bag.

John makes some incoherent grumbling noises, squeezing me more tightly to him. "Okay." I flip around so I can give him a goodbye kiss, despite our morning breath. "Text me later. We can talk more then."

"Yes Sir," I smile and kiss him again, before finally tearing myself away from him and the warm bed.

He watches me sleepily as I grab my clothes. I throw on my jeans and shirt, opting to just hold my jock and socks for now. I shove my wallet phone and keys into my pocket. I throw on my shoes, kiss Sir one last time, and let myself out.

There's something kind of hot about doing the proverbial walk of shame from my boyfriend's room. I look at the jockstrap in my hand, and I realize it's not even one mine. It's John's. His precum stains are all over the pouch. Fuck, I bet that smells great. Without really thinking, I lift it to my nose and sniff. Yeah, that's ni--

"Wow." I freeze in my tracks when I hear the voice behind me. No. Not him. "So did he give that to you, or did you steal it?"

I turn slowly and come face to face with the absolute last person I would ever want to find out about this. Brian. I ball up the jock in my fist as tightly as I can, as if he didn't just catch me sniffing it. I have to get out of this.

"It's not what it looks like, man." Which is an argument that really only works when you have a reasonable explanation.

Brian cocks a brow. "Really? Cause I know exactly what it looks like." He looks pointedly at my balled-up fist.

"It's not...I just left my phone in there last night. Came back to get it this morning." I'm scrabbling so much my voice almost cracks.

"Riiiight, you just left your phone overnight in the room of a guy with a very specific reputation." Brian stepped forward, clearly not buying any of it. "Your shirt's on backward."

I feel my face burn after being caught for something so stupid. Twice. I don't even bother trying to respond again.

"I'll see you at practice, man," Brian smirks as he walks past me. "Better hurry up, don't wanna be late!"

I almost ended up being late. After Brian's ambush, I kinda lost my bearings on my way back to the dorm. A few times. I just couldn't stop freaking out, thinking about what he saw, what he might say to someone else. When I finally made it back to the dorm, Dave was nowhere to be found, though I'm not even sure what I would have told him. I just grabbed my bag and headed for the gym.

Practice was...not great. It started okay. My weigh-in went fine, not downing a bunch of beers last night probably helped. But after that, I was distracted the entire time. Brian seemed to always be in my eyeline, and every time I saw him talking to someone else, I freaked. And he knew it too because he kept looking right at me with that fucking smirk on his face, the same one from the hallway. What a fucking prick.

I fucked up all my holds, was pinned in no time flat, and I even nearly knocked Joey on his ass when he tried to come up behind me and surprise me. I'm pretty sure coach thought about just sending me home early a few times.

"Hey man, you okay?" Joey sits next to me on the benches in the locker room after practice. "You seemed off today."

"Yeah, sorry man." I pull my shirt on. This is the one time I'm not actively watching Brian. Being caught staring at a dude in a locker room isn't gonna do me any favors. "Something happened this morning and it just kinda threw me off."

"Something with that girl you've been seeing?" At least someone still thinks I'm straight.

"Not exactly." That's not entirely a lie. "I'm...figuring it out." That is though.

"I know we fuck with each other a lot, but, if you ever need to talk, man..." Aw, Joey's giving me the straight guy 'I'm here for you' talk. "I'm here for you." See?

"Thanks, man." I clap him on the shoulder. I'd like to talk...if it wasn't about this.

Joey leaves me to finish getting dressed. I see no sign of Brian at the moment, so I plan to just get dressed and get the fuck out of here and...fuck, I dunno. Hope he doesn't tell anyone?

Speak of the devil, he's walking over to my now with that same smug look on his face.

"You might wanna hang back after everyone else leaves," he says, loud enough for only me to hear. "I think we have some things to discuss."

I say nothing, only glare, and slow my getting dressed. Goddamnit. Fuck this fucking prick. What the fuck does he want? I stand and make my way to the bathroom. I'm too angry and anxious right now and I'm probably doing a piss-poor job of hiding it. I go in one of the stalls and sit down, closing the door.

Now that I'm free from other distractions, my brain is running through all possible worst-case scenarios. What if he tells someone? What if he tells everyone? What if he's already told them!? I dig my fingers into my thighs subconsciously. What does he want? Money? Would he keep his mouth shut if I paid him? Is it still blackmail if I offer him the money first?

As far as places to have a panic attack, a locker room bathroom is not one I would recommend. Needing to take deep breaths in a room that smells like shit is not how I wanted to spend my Saturday. But eventually, I manage to calm down and exit the bathroom. Most of the team had left by now, though of course I still see Brian. I go and "finish" getting dressed. Finally, our last teammate leaves and it's just me and him.

Neither of us says anything at first. He just walks over and leans against the lockers opposite me, still smirking.

"I don't know what you think you saw this morning, but it isn't..." I really should have thought this through a little more. "I just left my stuff in John's room."

"By stuff do you mean your load? Cause from what I hear it's more likely that you're the one who left with his." I can already feel my face turning red, which just makes him smirk more.

"What were you even doing back there?" I try to desperately change the subject.

"I left some of my own stuff in the meeting room," he says very matter-of-factly.

"Why were you in the meeting room?" He shouldn't have been back there to catch me to begin with.

"My date wanted to see where all the 'spooky frat stuff' happened." I roll my eyes at his finger quotes.

"We're not supposed to take anyone not in the frat back there." John isn't even allowed since he's not an active member anymore.

"You really gonna talk to me about what we're not supposed to do?" He says that like I have something to be ashamed of. Which I don't! So why do I feel like I do?

"What do you want?!" The tension and stress from the morning finally causes me to snap.

"Hey, that's no way to talk to your brother. Or the guy who knows your dirty little secret," he speaks as calmly as ever.

"It's not dirty." Not sure why that's the hill I want to die.

"But it is a secret." Another smirk.

"What do you want, Brian?" I repeat my question more calmly.

"What do I want for what?" What the fuck is he playing dumb for?

"What do you want so you'll keep your mouth shut!" I growl through my gritted teeth.

"Oh, was that something you were trying to hide?" I swear I want to rip that smirk right off his face.

"I fucking hate you." I really fucking do.

"Is that reall how you want to talk to the guy that could out you to everyone you know?" At least he fucking said it that time.

"What do you want?" I repeat for the third time.

"Enh, I figure a blow job will do." What the fuck.

"What the fuck?" Is he just fucking with me again now?

"Was I not clear? In exchange for me keeping my mouth shut about you being a cocksucker, I want you to suck my cock." His eyes lock onto mine.

"But isn't...doesn't that just mean you're gay too?" I have no idea what's going on right now.

"Yeah, but I'm willing to wager you care a hell of a lot more about people finding out then I do." His tone says he's completely serious.

"Why are you doing this?" I hang my head in my hands.

"Cause it's kinda hot, making you squirm like this." He stands and starts walking towards me, lewdly grabbing himself through his shorts.

"What is your fucking problem?" Seriously, who does shit like this?

"Well right now, the only thing 'wrong' is that you aren't on your knees right now, sucking my dick." He moves his hand towards his crotch. It looks like he's already pitching a tent.

"Can you not get your dick sucked by anyone else?" My tone is entirely sarcastic, but the question is half-serious.

"What do you think happened in the meeting room?" Ugh, he's wiggling his eyebrows.

"So why the hell are you making me suck your dick?" Seriously, we do not like each other.

"Because I can." His voice goes entirely serious. "Because I want to. Because I don't like your attitude. Because for as long as I've known you, you've always acted like you're better than me. You never listen to me, you just fuck up and drag the rest of the team down, and then you talk shit about me behind my back. I'm sick of your bullshit, and now I get to put you in your place."

"Because you don't like me?! Because I piss you off?!" My voice cracks. He is seriously fucked in the head.

"Look." His voice softens and I feel his hand under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. "Is what I'm asking for really that bad? There's no way John's the only one you're fucking. What's one more dick to add to the pile."

"Besides," I watch as his eyes drag down my body slowly. "I can tell I'm not the only one into this."

My cock is traitorously hard in my shorts, my loose gym shorts holding nothing down.

"It's just... You just want a blowjob?" I can't believe I'm actually considering this.

"For now." He sat on the bench next to me.

"What, you're gonna want more?" What the fuck am I getting into?

"Hey, you can look at this as a chore, or you can find a way to have some fun with it." He leans back and gropes his dick. "But either way, it's time for you to get on your knees."

I watch as the mound in his gym shorts continues to grow, but I can't bring myself to move. It's not until I feel Brian's hand on my shoulder that I slowly slide off the bench, assuming an all too familiar position at his feet. I look up to see him looking back down triumphantly, as his hand dives into his shorts to fish out his cock.

And, dammit I hate to admit this, but it's actually a pretty nice cock. Not as big as John (which is suddenly very important to me), but a decent size. Thick but not so thick that I won't be able to...ugh why am I complimenting his dick? I don't want to be doing this at all!

"You okay?" Brian snaps me out of my trance. "Need a little help?"

Not waiting for an answer, Brian reaches out and pulls my head towards him. Instinctively, I open my mouth, which when you think about it is a weird instinct to have. I feel a little stunned at the sudden intrusion - and that this is happening at all - but I recover quickly. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can get out of here.

He's already hard so I just start sucking. I know what I'm doing. I'm not saying I'm an expert or anything, but for like a solid year, I was sucking a lot of dick in risky places. I know John's the main dick I've been sucking lately, but it also takes a dick his size to give me any problems these days. And Brian's no John.

"Fuck, you're good at this." I don't acknowledge the praise. I don't even have my eyes open.

I have one hand wrapped around the base to hold him in place as I bob up and down on the remaining for inches. Not playing with his balls, no special tricks, just a straight-up blowjob. No reason to draw this out longer than it should be. I'm just starting to get comfortable when--

*click* My eyes fly open at the sound of a camera shutter.

"What the fuck?!" I push myself away, but not before it's clear he managed to get a picture of my sucking his dick. "What the hell man! That wasn't part of the deal!"

"Neither was you giving me the world's angriest blowjob," he deadpans.

I narrow my eyes. "You can't make me want to suck your dick."

"Oh calm down, I'm not gonna show anyone. Just think of it as an insurance policy."

"I'm not sucking your dick if you're going to record it." I cross my arms, as defiant as someone in my position can be.

"Whatever, I only needed the one." He pockets his phone. "As long as you're a good boy and do everything I say, no one will ever see that picture."

"This is bullshit." I just gave this guy fodder to use against me for...who the fuck knows how long.

"Yeah well, I make the rules." He crosses his arms as I did earlier. "So, you gonna get back to work, or what?"

I glare, but say nothing, simply shuffling forward to resume my earlier position. I hate him so fucking much. I ignore his 'notes' on my technique - he can go fuck himself if he thinks I'm going to pretend to enjoy this. I am also pointedly ignoring the fact that my dick is currently tenting the front of my shorts. Traitor.

"Alright, if you're going to act like a bitch," he starts, a few minutes after I've resumed, "then I'm going to treat you like one."

Suddenly, his hand is in my hair and in one fluid motion, he stands and throws me off balance. My arms flail behind me, but he holds my face firmly against his crotch, preventing me from tipping backward but also planting every last inch of his cock in my mouth. Angry, especially because I think I know what's coming next, I glare up at him.

He just rolls his eyes. "Whatever, if John's fucking you then I know you've taken it way rougher then this."

My gullet still stuffed, I can only continue to glare as I steel myself for what I'm sure is going to be a rough face fucking. And what a face fucking it is. Brian wastes no time in testing the full depth of my oral cavity, plunging the full length of his dick into my throat with each snap of his hips.

He also seems to be enjoying testing my breath control, as every time he bottoms out, he holds my head in place for longer and longer periods of time. My nose was in his pubes more than they weren't. This would be so hot if I didn't hate it so much.

I hope he doesn't see the wet spot on my shorts.

"You only have yourself to blame." Oh, he's gonna lecture me now too? Great. "This could have been a nice chill blowjob for the both of us, but you just had to keep acting like a bitch about it."

"Ghhk ghhk." I don't know why I tried to respond there.

"What part of this are you not getting?" He asks while hammering his point home against my face. "I'm calling the shots here, and you just need to do what I fucking tell you and everything works out great for the both of us."

I can't possibly see what's "great" about my current predicament, Brian currently grinding his pelvis against my face. Reluctantly, I have to use my hands on his legs to hold myself steady as he continues his assault. I wish he would just cum already.

But no, now he seems content to drag this out, varying up the speed and depth of his thrusts in no discernable pattern. I have to stop looking up at him because of the smug look on his face while he just pisses me off more. This is humiliating, rage-inducing, and... why is it turning me on so much?

"Alright, I'm getting close to cumming soon," he announces, not bothering to slow down, "and you are going to swallow every drop."

My eyes shoot open. The fuck I am!

He just rolls his eyes. "You don't have a choice, bitch. I'm going to cum in your mouth, and you're going to swallow it. Nod if you understand."

I nod as angrily as I can while my throat is getting plowed. I should just bite his dick off.

Instead, I watch his eyes close and his face scrunch up before the thrusts against my face are too rapid for me to keep my eyes open. I don't even have a chance to catch my breath, I've just got my hands on Brian's thighs holding on for the ride. At least I know he's close.

"Here it comes bitch," Brian growls out above me.

Rather than the esophagus-stuffing slam home I'm expecting, Brian pulls his dick nearly all the way back, my lips wrapped just behind his head. With one hand on my head holding me in place, he uses his remaining hand to stroke the exposed shaft. As he blows his load, this has the intended effect of each volley of cum landing directly on my tongue.

I swallow the first mouthful, which is quickly refilled. I wish he had just blown it straight in my throat. Even if I gagged, this somehow feels more humiliating. Which is probably why he did it. I don't even want to open my eyes and look at him. I just know he's wearing that fucking smirk. I wait for him to stop cumming, swallow, and then spit out his cock.

"Goddamn." He exhales like he's the one who just did all that work.

"Hey. Good job." I'm staring at the floor, but his hand under my chin forces me to look up at him. His smile seems genuine for a second, before morphing into the sneer I know too well. "Now clean yourself up, Stevens. You look like a whore."

Fucking asshole. The insult has my hands balling up at my sides while I struggle not to say something. Like I want to be kneeling here with my face covered in spit at cock-snot. Lucky for me (HA!), he seems to be satisfied and just pulls up his shorts, grabs his bag, and makes for the exit.

"Remember. You don't tell anyone about this, and neither do I." He holds his phone up before he leaves, the threat of spreading his 'evidence' clear. "See ya at practice, bro."

I wait for a second to make sure he's gone before getting to my feet. As I turn I catch sight of myself in a mirror, and I walk closer. My hair is fucked up, my lips are swollen and red, my eyes bloodshot. My face is still wet, with spit, throat slime, and probably even precum. Some of it's even dripped down onto my shirt. Anyone who saw me right now would know exactly what just happened. It's humiliating.

So why is my dick so fucking hard right now?

I don't want to think about it. I rip my shirt off and head back to the showers. I'm just going to get cleaned up and get out of here. Just a quick rinse... Except my dick won't go down. I debate turning the shower to cold and dealing with it that way, but maybe it'll be easier if I just...

I wrap a hand around my dick. I have been rock hard since Brian forced me on my knees... No. Not going to think about that. I'm just dealing with a problem, just getting off and then I can get out of here. But no matter what I try, my mind keeps wandering. Brian pushing me onto my knees. His cock filling my mouth, cutting off my air. The taste of his load that is still on my tongue....fuck!

I blow my load all over the tile wall. A huge one. I watch as the steam causes the sticky splatter to slide down the wall. And as I stand there under the spray of the shower, my load still dripping from my hand, I am disgusted with myself.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"What's wrong, you not hungry?" John poked my container of sweet and sour pork with his chopstick.

Much later in the day, hours after practice and the locker room incident, John texted me and asked if I was free for dinner. I really wasn't sure. Everything with Brian - and the fact that I couldn't talk to anyone about it - really had me thrown. But, part of me still wanted to see my Sir. So, I said yes, and he grabbed some Chinese food and met me in my dorm. Dave was out for the night, hooking up with some football player off-campus, so we had the room to ourselves.

"No, sorry, my mind's just kinda wandering." I take another sauce-covered bite.

"Everything okay?" John sticks his chopstick in his food. "Is it because of last night?"

I'm glad I'm mid-bite because I'm not sure I've got a very convincing poker face at the moment. I finish chewing, slowly, before answering.

"No, not at all." Well, not entirely at least. "Last night was a lot of fun, and it's kinda nice knowing I can trust some of the other guys in the frat." Just not the one who caught me leaving this morning. I take another bite of food, covering the grimace that flashes on my face, knowing that for however great last night was, it is always going to be tied to the memory of this morning.

"I'm glad." Relaxing, he takes another bite. "I was really worried it might have been too much, that I was pushing you too far, too soon."

He swallows another bite before continuing. "Between things like last night or the bar, training and all our rules... I still keep finding myself surprised that everything is actually working out." He smiles warmly. "You make me very happy, boy."

John leans over to give me a quick kiss, and all I can think is... Fuck. I'm a real piece of shit.

I want to tell him about Brian, so badly. Not just to help me deal with it, but because that's one of the rules I told him I'd follow. John has all these insecurities thanks to some of his past boys, and now because of some asshole with a hard-on for ruining my life, I'm going to add to them. It almost feels like I'm cheating on him.

"You make me very happy too, Sir." Damnit, I'm not gonna let Brian fuck this up for me. "Actually, Sir, there is something I wanted to tell you about today."

"Hmm?" Sir cocks his head, his mouth stuffed with noodles.

"Something happened, after practice." Now I needed to choose my words very carefully. "I met up with somebody. Another student. An athlete." Not a lie. "I would have told you sooner but... he doesn't want anyone knowing who he is." Still not lying. "We hooked up... I sucked him off."

"Wow, I'm impressed, boy." Sir does look impressed. "I figured you woulda been out of business for a few days after last night. I understand his need for privacy." He winks at me.

I simply smile and tuck into the rest of my dinner. I have absolutely no interest in arguing with him. I know I just got done walking a very thin tightrope and somehow came out the other side of it with both Brian's secrecy and my relationship with John intact.

So why do I still feel so guilty?