I Couldn’t Sleep with This Thing If I Wanted To （28）

May

Final week of classes

"Now, release, letting your whole body go limp. Focus your attention on the feeling of relaxation and notice how it differs from the feeling of tension. Begin to wake your body up by slowly moving your muscles, adjust your arms and legs, stretching out all of your muscles. And when you're ready, open your eyes."

JT stretched and slowly reacquainted himself with his surroundings.

Dr. Namour's office.

Lying on the couch.

He yawned and sat up, running his hands through his hair and blinking a few times.

"How do you feel, JT?" Dr. Namour asked, putting the papers he'd been reading from down and picking up his clipboard and pen.

"Amazing. Like, incredibly relaxed."

What he'd wanted to say was that he felt like he'd just busted the world's greatest nut, but decided perhaps that wasn't an entirely appropriate response.

Progress, right?

Dr. Namour made a note of that on the clipboard, then reached for the papers he'd set down and handed them to JT. "So, again, that's a technique called progressive muscle relaxation. One of our body's reactions to anger or stress is muscle tension, and with this technique, you learn how to release that tension. You know how you clench your fists or your jaw when you get angry? Now, you know how to release it, and just the act of releasing it can have a calming effect, not to mention it can lower your blood pressure and even relieve other physical symptoms like headaches and back pain.

"I'll give you this script, and you could have Audrey or Ryker read it to you, or have one of them record themselves reading it so you have it whenever you need it, even if they're not around. I'd recommend having one of them do it though, since both of them have a calming effect on you."

"Thank you," JT said, beginning to just stuff the papers into his backpack. He stopped, reached inside for his folder, opened it, and placed the papers neatly inside before closing it and returning it to the bag. "See? Folders. Helps me keep things organized and not lose them," he said with a wink, pointing at Dr. Namour.

"Glad to see that's working for you. Anyway, we have a few minutes left, so I wanted to go over some details of your upcoming summer internship quickly. Before we get there, though, I would like to take a moment to congratulate you on your many accomplishments. For passing all of your classes this spring semester, despite having a learning disability, for sticking to your action plan, for completing all of your hours of community service, and for earning back your campus housing and your place on the D1 hockey team next year. JT, you did it. The progress you've made over the past nine months is absolutely incredible, and I am so proud to call you my patient."

Tears filling his eyes, JT nodded. "Thank you. I'm, uh, proud of me, too. But, I couldn't have done it without your help, Doc. You're unbelievable. Are you sure I can't do my internment…I mean, my internship with you?"

Dr. Namour shook his head. "You're my patient, JT. That would be in strict violation of our relationship. However, I've got someone in mind who I believe would be a perfect fit for you. I'm just waiting to hear back from her, and as long as she's OK with it, we can get your internship set up and send it to the University for summer approval. Have you begun the process of switching your major from sports management to psychology?"

"Yep. Submitted it online and I'm just waiting on approval from the new dean."

"Excellent. And tell me how all of this is going over with Ty."

JT gulped, leaning back against the couch and exhaling. "I…haven't told him yet."

"And why is that, exactly?"

"Because he's got his heart set on helping me get to the show. He's already…I go home next week and he's already got an appointment with my family advisor to try to get me an invite to the NHL combine. First of all, there's no fucking way I'm ready for that. I mean, yes, I've had some scouts snooping around and talking to my FA, but, like, I haven't even practiced in over four months, minus a few times I snuck in and fucked around with my teammates for shits and giggles. If I did get an invite, it'd only be because Ty worked his magic somehow." He stopped, scanning the room and then becoming distracted by his phone buzzing on the table.

"Why don't you leave it?" Dr. Namour suggested as he reached for it. "Sometimes it's OK to be unavailable."

"Right," JT said, leaving it on the table and unread. "But here's the other thing, Doc. I love hockey, OK? You know that. I grew up playing and I'm amazing at it. I know that."

"But?"

"But it's not my passion. It's Ty's passion. It was Ryan's passion. It's…I'm not passionate about it, and the more I think about it, the more I don't wanna do it for the rest of my life. Take Nerd, for example. He plays just because he can, and he has a blast. Does he get a lot of ice time, or do they prioritize him on special teams? No. But it doesn't matter because he enjoys it. He's not trying to make a career out of it. He's gonna be some kinda fucking rocket scientist or something. He's just doing it because it's fun for him. I envy that."

"So, are you saying that you don't think you should enjoy something out of which you want to make a career?"

"Nah, that's not," JT began, getting frustrated, then taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. "That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that I don't want to do it for a career. Doc, the more I learn about myself, the more I realize that my greatest power, my greatest strength? It's helping people. It's like," he said, standing up and beginning to pace.

Dr. Namour tossed a ball to him and encouraged him to toss it up and catch it to focus his attention. "My whole life, I thought I was stupid, you know? I'm not stupid. I have a fucking disability, and thanks to Aud, I know that now. How many other kids out there think they're stupid and don't have an Aud? How many kids feel worthless because their parents are dead, or they've been abandoned, or they think they're unworthy of being loved? How many people believe the lies their trauma tells them? Just out there thinking that, like, life left them behind, that they don't deserve good things."

Tears now streaming down his face, he set the ball down and turned to look at Dr. Namour. "I can help them. I can do that. That's so much more valuable than playing some fucking game, man. You know? Not to mention, I can do that on my own. I've always worried that if, like, I made it to the show, it'd be because Ty or Ryan pulled strings or whatever. I don't want that. I wanna carve my own way.

"And I can't tell you how many times this year I've just been existing and have, like, accidentally helped someone deal with some really heavy shit. So many people have told me I have a gift, that I, like, see things in ways that other people don't. Maybe…I don't know. Maybe I do." He plopped down onto the couch, wiping his eyes. "Maybe I do."

Dr. Namour, who'd been feverishly scribbling notes the entire time JT was talking, set his clipboard down. "There's no maybe, JT. You absolutely connect with the world in ways that many others simply can't. A lot of your anger, your frustration, I believe came from the fact that you didn't know how to interpret those connections, how to deal with them, especially since you felt the world was stacked against you because of what you've been through. But, JT, now that you recognize it, that you understand who you are and what you're capable of?" He shook his head, smiling. "You're gonna be one hell of a counselor. That I'm sure about."

"Thank you."

They wrapped up the session with Dr. Namour giving JT a to-do list that consisted of two things:

Make an appointment with his academic advisor to determine which classes he should take now that his goal was to become a licensed counselor. Inform Tyler Hayes that he no longer had any interest in playing professional hockey.

One of those things, JT knew, was going to be a lot easier to do than the other.

???

"Redshirt!"

D'Angelo rushed over to JT as he arrived at the hotel room, hand in hand with Ryker.

That night had been the night of the hockey banquet, which, being on conduct probation, JT wasn't allowed to attend since the semester wasn't technically over. Though the coaches all told him it wouldn't be an issue, he decided to err on the side of caution, not wanting to do anything to jeopardize his progress.

As soon as the banquet had ended, he'd had Audrey drop him off outside the Toftrees Golf Resort, where some of the guys had booked a few adjoining rooms for the night in which they intended to party for the evening and then wake up for a round of golf the following morning. Since the Nittany Lions had failed to make the playoffs, a lot of the guys would be leaving to go back home soon, so they wanted one last outing together before the year ended.

"We missed you tonight, man. Sucks that you couldn't come," D'Angelo told him, as the two hugged, Macklin appearing out of nowhere with a cup full of some sort of concoction containing way too much liquor.

"How do you constantly, like, just show up out of the blue with a drink all the time?" JT said with a laugh, taking the cup from him and chugging it.

"That's called redneck hospitality, baby." He shoved another one in front of Ryker. "Drink up, McCreery."

"Nah, I'm good. I don't…"

"Shhhh," D'Angelo interrupted, tipping the bottom of it, forcing him to drink. "Good boy."

"OK," Ryker said, taking the cup and sucking it down, then making a face when he realized it was almost straight alcohol. "Oh, wow. This is gonna hit me."

"Good," JT said, leaning into his ear and sliding an arm around his waist. "Because we know what a horny little slut you are for my dick when those drinks hit."

Ryker smirked, then turned his lips to meet JT's ear. "Wanna guess what I've been wearing all night?"

JT's eyes widened, as LeFleur came around the corner and grabbed him by the shirt for beer pong.

"Sorry, McCreery. I need to borrow your boyfriend for a bit," LeFleur said, pulling JT, whose eyes were still glued to Ryker, away.

"Seriously? How am I supposed to function now that I have that bit of information?" JT called to him, disappearing into the other room to play.

"I don't…even wanna know, do I?" D'Angelo asked Ry ker, as they both finished up what was in their cups.

"Nope. You do not," Ryker confirmed.

JT and D'Angelo found themselves outside on the balcony sharing a joint after few rounds of beer pong, some drunk Jenga, and one game of straight face that had caused Carter to literally piss himself when LaFleur had read, "Macklin couldn't pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the bottom."

"I didn't even know you smoked, man," JT said while holding in the hit, then blew it out and passed it to his teammate.

He took it, hit it, blew it out, and passed it back. "I don't. Not during the season, anyway. But, the season's over, so I figured, fuck it. Why not?"

"I've cut back a ton, almost to nothing. It used to, like, help with my anger and anxiety, but I've got so many other options for it now. This is good shit though,' JT said, stubbing the joint on the ground and placing it on the patio table.

"Yeah, my boy's a criminal justice major. They always got the mad hookups," D'Angelo said, leaning back. "Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?"

They both giggled, JT admiring the gorgeous view of the pool below their balcony as they overheard a heated argument coming from inside the room about whether or not a hotdog should be classified as a sandwich.

"Yeah, if you're a fuckin' serial killer!" Carter yelled.

To which Macklin replied, "Yeah, OK. Why don't you go piss your pants again?"

"It's getting vicious in there, man," JT said, putting his hands over his head and leaning back. "So, what'd I miss tonight, anyway? Fill me in. I really wanted to come, I just…I'm minding my P's and Q's, you know?"

"Yeah, totally. It's all good, man. Eh, it was your typical sports banquet. Speeches from all the coaches. I had to give a speech before the tribute to the graduating seniors and I almost puked on myself. I fucking hate public speaking, man."

"That's interesting, considering you literally never shut the hell up," JT teased, punching him lightly in the thigh.

"I know, right? Anyway, I'm sure McCreery told you he got the award for most improved. Wished luck to Amos on his invitation to the combine this year. He's absolutely going to the show soon. Kid's fucking incredible. Um, let's see, what else? MVP was yours truly. Oh, and," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, "we did this new thing this year. Got a video of it. Here, check it out."

D'Angelo handed the phone over to JT, and he pressed play on screen to see a bunch of the guys doing the Cotton-Eyed Joe shirtless before his captain took it back. "Shit, sorry. Wrong one," he said, scrolling and pulling up a different one. "This weed is kicking my ass , Red. Anyway, this is the right one. Here."

Again, JT took the phone and pressed play, and it took about 30 seconds before tears clouded his vision.

It was a compilation of a few brief words from each of JT's teammates, coaches, and trainers, letting him know their favorite thing about him or sharing a favorite memory of him from this year. They'd even managed to get clips from Audrey and Craig.

He finished the video and handed the phone back to D'Angelo. "Thank you, man. That was…amazing."

"You got it. I hope you know how proud of you we all are. You're not even remotely the same dude who showed up in August, and it's been incredible to watch. You've been dragged through it, Red, but you always come out on top. And you deserve to, man," D'Angelo reached over to shake his hand. "You deserve everything good this world has to offer." He pulled his hand back and stood up, blinking a few times and steadying himself on the arm of the chair in which he'd been sitting. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am fucked up and need to go find somewhere to pass out. Don't stay up too late, OK? Tee time is at 9 a.m."

???

"You're fucking…gonna kill me, Banner," Ryker whispered, panting against his neck as JT rubbed his rock-hard cock through his boxers, which were nearly soaked all the way through with precum.

The two of them, having lost the lottery to sleep on one of the beds, had been lying on the floor, sharing one measly ass pillow and wrapped up in a sheet, waiting patiently for the rest of the guys to pass out. The lights were all off, but several of them were playing on their phones, illuminating the room just enough that they couldn't get away with anything without being seen.

JT had taken this prime opportunity to edge his boyfriend into oblivion, bringing him slowly right to the brink at least three separate times before pulling away and leaving him high and dry.

"It's so much fun making you squirm" JT whispered, removing his hand right as Ryker was about to cum again, as the last phone finally went dark, and Ryker damn near pounced on top of him, rolling his boyfriend onto his back and straddling his hips. Just as he'd begun to rock them into JT's, someone got up, stumbled to the bathroom, and flicked the light on, proceeding to piss with the door wide open as Ryker frustratedly rolled off JT and onto his back.

"Fuck it. Guess we'll just go to sleep."

"Nerd? I couldn't sleep with this thing if I wanted to," JT said quietly, grabbing his boyfriend's hand and placing it on his throbbing cock. "I need to cum ."

Ryker, being Ryker, had made sure they were prepared. He had removed his plug, cleaned it, and tucked it away in his bag, the same bag that he'd strategically placed next to where they'd be sleeping for quick access to the lube and condoms. He had no idea how much longer they'd have to wait for everyone to fall asleep, but what he did know was that he was going to ride the fucking shit out of his boyfriend's dick when they did.

The pisser, whose identity Ryker couldn't make out because his glasses were off, finally turned the light off and headed back to bed, and the room went dark and silent again, minus someone's snoring.

Game. The fuck. On.

As though he was aiming to set a new world record for the least amount of time it took to get a dick inside his ass, Ryker reached into the bag, grabbed a condom, and tore it open with his teeth. He took a hold of JT's throbbing hard-on and rolled it onto it, then reached for the lube and squeezed some all over his hand. He straddled JT again while moving his hand behind him and coating his hole, then immediately lined himself up with it, sinking down slowly.

"Oh, fuck," JT said aloud, grabbing onto Ryker's hips until he was fully seated. "Not even gonna warn me, Nerd?"

Ryker slapped a hand over JT's mouth and leaned down so his mouth was next to his ear. "You're gonna stay quiet while I fuck you. You understand? There are four other guys in this room, and unless you wanna deal with that shit right now, then zip it."

"You feel way too fucking good," JT whispered, reaching his hands around to Ryker's ass and pushing him forward.

"Good. Then shut up and cum quick for me, OK?" Ryker sat back up, adjusting the sheet so it covered them, and planted his hands firmly against the floor on either side of JT's shoulders to give himself leverage. He began slowly grinding back and forth, letting his body adjust, then decided to just go for it.

"Shit," JT whimpered. "Sorry. You're just…so fucking tight, baby."

Ryker lifted a hand to JT's mouth. "Open," he whispered, and when JT did, he shoved the side of his hand into his mouth. "Bite down if you need to. But shut up ."

Instantly, JT's teeth clamped down against his boyfriend's hand as he bounced up and down on his cock, JT lifting his hips upward to meet every one of Ryker's downward thrusts halfway. His hands gripping Ryker's ass so hard he knew there'd be bruises, he wanted so badly to praise him, knowing how much his teammate got off on it. But they couldn't do that right now. His only option was to keep biting down on his hand while Ryker continued to fuck himself on JT's his dick, his own massive hard-on slapping against JT's abs with the increased pace.

Noticing that the noise was breaking the silence of the room, JT pushed Ryker's hand from his mouth. He brought his own palm to his face, spit on it, and wrapped it around Ryker's cock, beginning to jerk him off while he rode JT, which caused Ryker to whimper loudly. "Come on, Nerd. You gotta be quiet. Remember?" JT teased, as sweat dripped from Ryker's hair onto JT's face.

"Fuck," Ryker squealed out as JT felt him begin to tense up around his cock.

"I think that's what we're doing, baby. You're gonna cum, aren't you? I can feel it. You gonna be a good boy and cum all over my dick?"

"Fuck, JT. I'm gonna fucking cum…all over your dick."

JT let go of Ryker, then used both arms to push himself up to sitting, putting Ryker in his lap. "Make a mess all over me, baby. Come on, I'm so fucking close."

"Shit, JT…fuck. I'm gonna cum," Ryker said, wrapping a hand around the back of JT's head and pulling their faces together. "Fuck," he moaned into JT's mouth, his cock releasing thick strands of cum onto JT's chest while he continued to move in his lap.

"There you go, baby. You're such a good boy for me, aren't you? Shit, I'm gonna…fucking…" JT trailed off, moaning against Ryker's lips as he came deep inside him. "Ryk. Fuck. "

The two of them sat there in each other's laps for a moment, sweaty and cum-covered, both their heads still reeling from the intensity of the orgasms they'd just had.

"So much for being quiet," JT whispered into Ryker's ear, trailing his lips down to his neck and planting small kisses along it.

"You felt way too good," Ryker replied quietly. "Besides, they're all passed out. I doubt they heard us."

"Um, cool," a third voice entered into the conversation. "Do you think now that you two have gotten that shit out of your system, you can shut the fuck up and go to sleep? Thanks."

"Sorry, Carter," Ryker called out quietly, both he and JT beginning to giggle, embarrassed.

"Also, not gonna lie. That was kinda hot. Thanks. Now I'm bricked up in a bed next to Macklin."

"I say go for it. I bet he'd be down," JT said, getting up off the floor so he could head to the bathroom and get cleaned up.

"Don't you even fucking think about it," Macklin responded, then followed it with, "Unless you wanna blow me. That I'm down for."

"Fine. But I'm not swallowing, bro," Carter said. "And I expect at least a handy in return." JT and Ryker cracked up at the turn of events, until D'Angelo's voice entered the chat.

"What the actual fuck is happening in this room right now?"