The Good Guy in This Story （7）

"Redshirt!"

Fuck , JT thought, downing the rest of whatever shit beer was in his plastic cup as he spotted a couple of his teammates coming toward him. He'd left the frat house to get some fresh air outside the party and he'd hoped he could catch a few minutes to himself, slightly overwhelmed by the number of people who wanted to talk to him.

No luck.

Two of his teammates, upperclassmen, approached him. Center and captain Mark D'Angelo practically jumped onto his back as Tate Macklin, the starting goalie, ripped the empty cup from his hand and replaced it with another full one. " Drink up, Red!"

JT already had a nice buzz going, between the few beers and puffs of his pen, and he didn't want to ruin it by getting too sloppy. "Nah," he protested, "I'm…"

"Shhhh," D'Angelo said, moving the cup to JT's mouth and tipping the bottom of it, forcing him to drink. "Good boy."

So, he drank.

Once his teammate let go, he stopped drinking, leaving about half the beer in the cup. "Need to forget that piss poor performance tonight. I mean, not that you're to blame," D'Angelo said to JT, then looked over at Macklin and pointed. "Not like this fuckin' country ass sieve over here."

"Suck it," Macklin shot back. "What were you, minus 4 tonight? Fuck outta here with that shit."

The game had been a disaster, with Michigan State having dominated from puck drop to the final horn. Not a great way to start the season for the Nittany Lions, getting their asses handed to them in front of a sold-out crowd of over 6,000 at Pegula Ice Arena. The team had been off to a very slow start, struggling to get into a rhythm even in their practices, though the defense had fared a bit better during those because of JT. He and Colton Carter had really begun to gel as a defensive pair over the past few weeks, and JT's absence during tonight's game was felt.

"Real shame you can't play, Red. We could really use your vision," Macklin lamented. "Rest of the D is a nightmare right now, to be honest. Absolutely no pressure. Hung me out there to dry tonight. Well, anyway, drink up. Coach is gonna run us into the fuckin' ground tomorrow at practice. Might as well live it up tonight."

Macklin turned to go back inside and D'Angelo followed, stopping to bump JT's shoulder. "You bury that dick yet tonight, Red? "

JT shook his head, grimacing as he downed the rest of the swill in his cup.

"Well, there's plenty of horny chicks in there for you," D'Angelo announced, roughing up his teammate's hair. "Or…horny guys . You know, no judgment."

Rolling his eyes, JT asked, "And why would you say that, exactly?"

"Well, you know, it's just…Carter may have mentioned…something."

"Of course he did."

"Listen, it's…whatever. It's not a big deal. None of us, like, care. At all."

"You're right," JT agreed. "It's not a big deal. I just…like both, OK?"

"Yeah, totally. Hey, have fun tonight, whoever you end up with." And with that, D'Angelo turned and followed Macklin inside.

JT stood there for a moment, closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths.

4-7-8

4-7-8

He knew people didn't do it to be dicks, or at least he hoped they didn't do it to be dicks, but it always caught him off guard when people would bring up his sexuality and follow it up with, "It's not a big deal."

No shit it isn't a big deal. It's a big deal because you're making it a big deal by telling me that it's not a big deal.

Ever since high school, JT knew he played for both teams. He'd lost his virginity to an older girl when he was 14 and had dated a few girls while playing juniors, but he was very much attracted to guys. Something about the familiarity of their bodies, being certain about which "buttons to push", so to speak, turned him on. He'd never been in a relationship with a guy, but he'd hooked up with plenty of them.

Hell, he'd hardly been in relationships with girls either; the two that he'd dated pretty seriously both had accused him of "wanting a mother, not a girlfriend."

Bisexual? Pansexual? Everyone seemed so hyper focused on having the right label for every goddamn thing these days.

Like, couldn't something just be what it was?

He didn't know what to label himself. Sometimes he wanted to eat pussy, sometimes he wanted to suck dick. And he'd never been with a trans person, but if the opportunity presented itself, he'd be down.

Whatever that made him was whatever he was.

At the moment, there were really only two people he wanted to get his hands on anyway, and neither of them were at this party. One was a little too old for frat parties, and the other was a fuckin' nerd who went home to study for his astrophysics test after the game.

He decided to head back to the dorm and call it a night, but as he started toward the street, he remembered that his backpack was still inside.

Shit , he thought, anxious at the thought of going back into that hellhole and fighting off all the now-drunk asses who wanted to talk to him. Trying to cover his face, he shoved his way through the crowd of people in the kitchen and living room. Finally, he got to a hallway near the bathroom that opened up a bit, near the closet where he'd stashed his bag.

As he approached the closet, he noticed a girl slumped against the wall next to the door. She had on a tight, black crop top, a denim miniskirt that barely covered London or France, and thigh high black boots. She was swaying slightly and appeared to be very intoxicated.

"Um, hey. Are you…are you here with someone?" he asked, standing next to her and reaching a hand out to steady her a bit.

She laughed, tossing her dark red hair over one shoulder and flopping onto him.

"Oh, shit. OK," he said, taken aback and propping her up as she landed in his arms.

"Why? You wanna fuck me too?" she slurred, leaning against him and resting her forehead on his shoulder.

"No. Definitely not."

She gasped, then pouted. "Why? You don't think I'm pretty?"

"You're very pretty. But you're also very wasted."

Her arms ended up wrapped around his neck and she leaned into his ear. "I wanna suck your dick."

"Yeah, um, that's not…"

"There she is!" A shirtless, ripped up guy shouted as he came around the corner. "Oh, shit. What's up, Redshirt?"

JT had no idea who he was but assumed he was one of the frat bros based on the Greek letters emblazoned on his backwards cap. Since this frat was the unofficial "hockey party house", despite his best efforts to stay hidden, everyone knew who JT DiMara was.

Which sucked.

The guy came over and punched him playfully in the arm. "You movin' in on my piece, Red?"

"Nah, I…was just…coming to get my bag, and…"

"It's all good. I can share. I'm uh," he said, looking around and leaning into JT's ear, "waitin' on a couple of my boys, anyway. Gonna have a little spit roast, run a little train. Isn't that right, baby?" He reached a hand to the drunk girl's face and caressed her cheek. "You said it's cool, right? That you wanna get with me and my boys?"

She nodded, eyes closed.

JT looked at her, then back at the frat bro. "I mean, since you're waiting for your boys, do you…I mean, mind if I, like, take a stab at it first?"

"Not at all, Red. Mi pussy es su pussy. Just keep her clean, OK? Take her," he pointed down the hallway, "in there. Second door on the left. I'm gonna go get another beer and see where these fuckers are at. Condoms are in the top drawer of my nightstand. Have fun."

"Can you walk?" JT asked the girl, taking her hand in his. "I need you to follow me, OK?"

She stumbled behind him, down the hallway and past a few people standing around chatting, until they got to the bedroom. JT turned the doorknob and opened the door, almost gagging at the combination of smells in the filthy room: mildew from wet towels that had been thrown onto the floor, sheets that probably hadn't been washed all semester, and an attempt to cover it all up with copious amounts of Axe Body Spray.

To be fair, JT wouldn't have ever washed his sheets either if it wasn't for Ryker reminding him to do so every week.

Fuckin' nerd.

He locked the door behind them and they slalomed their way around piles of dirty clothes and trash before he sat her down on the edge of the bed. She had a small purse strapped around her shoulder, and just as he took it from her, she fell backward onto the mattress. JT opened the bag, pulled out her phone, and tapped her. "Hey. sweetie, look here."

He held the phone in her face, and it took a few attempts, but it finally unlocked. "Tell me your bestie's name. Who would you call if you were in trouble?"

"Knndy," she mumbled.

"Kennedy? You'd call Kennedy?"

She nodded, not moving.

"And what's your name?" he asked, scrolling through her phone until he found Kennedy's number.

"Brinley."

"Ok, seriously? What are the fucking odds of this?" JT said out loud, remembering his conversation with Aud earlier that day.

"I'm sure there's some sorority girl just foaming at the mouth to get her hands on JT DiMara. One named Brinley? Mckenzie? Kennedy?"

Just needed a Mckenzie now for the hat trick.

"Hey, Brin?" a female voice answered, sounding half asleep.

"Yeah, um, hi. This is…I have your friend Brinley here and she's, um, really drunk."

"Is she OK? Did you do anything to her, because I swear to God, I'll break your fucking neck, you piece of shit…"

"No, no, it's not like that," he interrupted. "She was about to be in a real bad situation and I made sure I got her out of it. She said to call you. Can you, like, come get her?"

"Text me the address. I'll be there as soon as I can. Keep her safe, please." And with that, she ended the call.

JT texted the address to Kennedy and set the phone down onto the bed. He turned toward Brinley, who was on her back, snoring. Running a hand through his hair, he reached into his pocket for his pen, took a couple pulls, and waited for Kennedy to text that she was there.

?? ?

"Come on, Brin," Kennedy said loudly, sliding her hands under her friend and trying to scoop her up off the bed, JT helping get the drunk girl to her feet. "Come on, babe. We gotta go."

"Urghmph," Brinley mumbled, eyes closed and trying to lean her head on her friend's shoulder.

"No, babe. Come on, you can pass out when we get to the car. But I need you to walk right now, OK?"

JT opened the bedroom door and peeked out, making sure the frat bro and his boys were nowhere in sight before signaling to Kennedy that it was OK for them to leave. He threw his arm around the other side of Brinley, and the two fumbled her down the hall and outside the front door, where Kennedy's car was parked not too far from the front porch with its hazards flashing.

He pulled open the passenger door and the two maneuvered her into the front seat, JT reclining it so she could lie back. He closed the door and Kennedy threw her arms around him, taking him aback.

"Thank you," she said softly, pulling away from him. "I wish to God there were more like you. She's…she doesn't always make the best decisions, but it's no excuse for guys to treat her the way they do. I mean, we've…been down this road before. Our other roommates and I have been trying to get her some help, but…well, anyway, thanks again, JT. You're the good guy in this story. You know that, right?"

He nodded. "Get her home safe, OK?"

"Will do." She got into her car and pulled away, JT beginning to head down the street toward his dorm.

"The fucking bag !" he yelled aloud, palming his face and turning back toward the house yet again to retrieve his damn backpack.

Once inside, he hurried to the closet, pulled open the door, picked up the bag, and slung it over his shoulder. As he closed the door and turned to leave, he was met with a familiar face.

"Have fun with her, Red?" the frat bro asked curiously, eyeing JT up and down.

"Um, yeah. She was…it was good, man. So good."

"Nice. So, she's still in my room then?"

"She should be. I don't really…"

"Bullshit," he interrupted. "I saw you load her into her friend's car. What the fuck, man? Why you bein' a fuckin' cockblock, anyway?"

JT scoffed. "That girl was beyond wasted, man."

"And?" he asked flippantly, throwing his hands up. "It's a frat house, Red. That's what happens. People get drunk and fuck. Tale as old as time, bruh. Anyway, I got her consent. You were right there."

"You know a drunk girl can't consent, man. Especially not that drunk. She couldn't even open her eyes. Come on, don't be a fucking moron. Guys go to jail for shit like this. Is that what you want, to go to jail for rape? Because that can happen, I promise you. You gotta be smarter. There's no fucking way that girl could've given consent as drunk as she was."

The frat bro rolled his eyes. "You're right, man. You're…fuckin' right." He stuck out his hand. JT reached out to shake it and the guy pulled him in for a quick hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. Be careful, OK? Don't do that shit. You can ruin someone's fucking life, not to mention your own. A nut's not worth it, my guy."

"Ugh, fuck," he grunted, pulling off his backwards cap, raking a hand through his blond hair, and returning it to his head. "I'm so fuckin' horny right now. It's been, like, three days. Yo, there's gotta be someone sober enough to consent around here. You got me all paranoid now."

Good. You need to be, JT thought as he scanned the guy's shirtless body, then decided to go for it. He'd take one for the team if it meant some poor girl didn't wake up full of shame and regret the next morning. Not that it'd be too much of a sacrifice; the kid was smokin' hot. "I'm, uh, actually not wasted."

"Cool. Why don't you help me find one then? Clearly, you're a better judge of sobriety than I am."

Wow, someone can't take a fucking hint.

"How, um, open-minded are you?"

The frat bro narrowed his eyes at JT, starting to put together the pieces. "Fuck you sayin' right now, Red?"

"I'm saying…come to your bedroom with me." JT leaned in toward him, sliding a hand around his waist. "Give me five minutes and I'll have you coming so fucking hard down my throat you'll see God."

The guy snickered. "I'm not…I'm not gay , Red," he asserted, making absolutely no effort to move away as JT moved closer, bumping his nose with his own.

"Hey, college is for experimenting, right?" JT brushed his lips against the guy's, who remained frozen. "Come on, frat boy. You mean to tell me you've never thought about what it might be like to fuck around with another guy before?"

"I mean…I, like, haven't really…maybe, like… thought about it, but, like…"

Got him.

JT pulled him by the waist and started moving toward his bedroom. "Come on. Seriously, five minutes. Set a timer."

"Shit, man. Alright," he mumbled, as he followed JT down the hallway.

"Paul, there you are!"

Two more shirtless douches appeared at Paul's door just as they were about to enter.

"Is Redshirt gettin' in on the action, too?" one of them asked.

Paul looked at JT, motioning with his hand to the other two guys as if to ask if they were invited to the party, too.

JT nodded slowly.

Paul opened the door and all four of them entered, JT closing and locking it behind them, gagging a little again at the potpourri of stale smells. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor alongside his backpack.

"Where the fuck did Brin go, man?" one of the other ones asked, scanning the room and noticing that it consisted solely of four, half-naked dudes. "That bitch was fuckin' keyed up for us all night."

Paul untied the drawstring on his black joggers as JT dropped to his knees in front of him. "Listen, Red. No kissing, no touching. You promise?" He grabbed a handful of JT's hair and tugged it. "Just work my cock with those big ass lips of yours, hockey boy." Paul and JT both turned to look at the other two guys, who stood there, wide-eyed and pitching very obvious tents. "He's, uh, gonna take down all three of us."

Both of the other guys looked at each other, shrugged, and immediately began undoing their own pants.

"A nut's a nut, bruh," one of them said, and JT smirked as he watched them both take their hard dicks into their hands and begin jerking themselves off slowly, before turning his attention back toward Paul. With one hand cupping his balls, he used the other to grip the base and guide it into his mouth slowly, Paul's hips bucking forward. He let out a loud whimper as JT began feverishly sucking on his cock.

He rolled the frat boy's balls in his hand while simultaneously working his other around the base as he sucked. He swirled his tongue around the kid's thick head and looked up at him, met immediately by Paul's lidded eyes and a mouth that hung open lazily. "Fuck, Red. You're gonna…holy shit . I'm gonna fuckin' cum so hard. Shit."

"Damn. Already?" one of the other guys asked, as the other moved near JT and shoved his dick into his face. Continuing to jerk Paul off, JT took the other guy in his hand, opened his mouth, and tapped both of their cockheads against his tongue, sliding it slowly along the underside of both at the same time and getting off on the moans that were escaping the boys. With each lick, he moved their heads closer together until they were touching, and he quickly wrapped one hand around both boys' cocks and jerked them off together.

JT glanced up when he heard the third guy say, "Oh, shit," and watched as Paul and the second guy kissed while he worked them against his tongue. And they weren't just kissing; they were devouring each other's mouths, each of them rocking their hips forward with a handful of JT's hair clutched between their fingers.

He'd never done it before, but figured this was as good a time as any to give it a shot, so he opened his jaw as far as he could and sucked both of their cocks as far into his mouth as he could get them. Both hands reached around to each of the boys' asses, pulling their hips forward as he struggled to take them both at once, but powered through.

The familiar tensing up of ass cheeks let him know that both of them were about to let go, and JT ran his hands along the sides of both their dicks, pressing them against each other and opened his mouth wide. He looked up, his eyes meeting theirs, and a few seconds later, both were releasing thick strands of cum onto his tongue and whimpering, Paul's knees buckling at one point.

"Yeah, swallow it, you fucking slut," the other guy moaned, finishing the last pulses of his orgasm inside JT's open mouth.

Doing as he was told, he quickly flipped around, briefly taking notice of what appeared to be a handoff of some sort between the third guy and the second guy, and grabbed hold of the third guy's stiff cock.

"That's right. Suck my fuckin' cock, Redshirt," he moaned, as he took two fistfuls of JT's hair and slammed his hips forward, hitting the back of his throat, causing him to gag and his eyes to water. This guy was hungry for it, fucking JT's mouth like it was his day job. "Suck that cock, you pathetic little bitch."

Never one to have been remotely phased by degradation, JT grabbed the guy's ass while leaning back at the same time, lying down on his back and pulling him on top of his face. On the floor, he stifled his gag reflex and closed his teary eyes as the guy got onto all fours and fucked into JT's throat relentlessly.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum down your throat, slut. Oh, shit, Oh, shit," he moaned, as he released his load, with JT pressing two fingers up into his taint to massage his prostate.

When JT had milked every last drop of cum from the guy, he pulled out of his mouth and stood up. "Holy shit, DiMara," he said, grabbing him by the hand to pull him to his feet. "You're a fuckin' Hoover. Jesus Christ, I can't feel my legs, man."

Snickering, JT tucked his own throbbing boner under his waistband and watched as the second guy handed a phone over to the guy JT had just serviced. Though he thought it a bit odd, he was focused on getting dressed, making sure he grabbed his goddamn backpack, and getting the hell out of there. He pulled his shirt on, wiped his lips, and licked his fingers as all three guys just stared at him. "So, I mean, are we good here?" he asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

All of them nodded, avoiding any further eye contact with him as he headed toward the door.

"Cool. Have a good night, gentlemen."

He exited the frat house, checking the time on his phone when he got outside and onto the road.

1:48 a.m.

There were also two texts: one from Audrey and one from Ryker.

A: I hope you had fun at the game tonight. I'm sorry about all that shit I unleashed on you earlier. Thanks for listening. See you tomorrow.

R: Bring me something chocolatey when you come home, Banner. Studying for this test is kicking my ass.

JT made the 15-minute walk home in under 10, hauling ass for a few reasons.

First, because his mind was spinning as he replayed the highlight reel of today's events:

He'd kissed Audrey, and even though it really wasn't a kiss , he knew he was falling for her. He didn't have the first clue what he was supposed to do about that, but he knew it most likely wasn't going to end well.

He'd saved a girl from being gang raped, and even though the dumbasses were completely oblivious to that fact, believing they had her consent, he knew that wouldn't have ended well, either.

He'd simultaneously sucked off three guys in a frat house, and even though not one of them were "gay", they'd all had no problem whatsoever nutting in his mouth in record time.

The second reason he was racing home is because he had the most raging hard-on of his life, and if he didn't rub one out soon, he was certain he was going to explode.

Arriving at Bigler Hall, he scanned his key card, stopped at the vending machine to grab a Hershey bar for Ryker, and headed up to his room.

As he entered the dorm, the light was on and he found Ryker slumped over on his desk, passed out in front of his astrophysics textbook, his glasses crooked and a highlighter still in his hand. He smiled, tapping him a few times and ultimately startling him awake.

"Huh? Hey. What?" he mumbled groggily, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"Here," he said, tossing the Hershey bar at him. "You can have it for breakfast. You need to go to bed, Nerd."

"Thanks, Banner," Ryker said with a yawn. "You have fun tonight?"

JT shrugged. "Get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

He waited for his roommate to climb into bed and start snoring before he freed his cock from his briefs and beat it into a fucking coma, his thoughts bouncing wildly between Audrey's thighs, Ryker's ass, and ultimately the three hot guys he'd blown tonight while he came.

Fuck have you gotten yourself into, DiMara? he thought, reaching for some nearby tissues and wiping his load from his stomach.

And soon enough, he'd find out the answer to that question.