1. Brayden

Chapter one

Brayden

Lansing, MI

O ctober The sensation of winning is one of the best sensations. The electrifying surge in your body as the buzzer declares your victory. That, along with the adrenaline high you get when burying yourself in some tight hole of someone I can't even remember the name of. It sends a shiver up my spine and sets every hair on my body to a sharp standing point. I am consumed by primal instincts, driven to thrust relentlessly by his muffled moans. A shiver runs beneath my bare fingertips as I trace my hand up his back. I push against his upper back, allowing me to arch over him more and push myself even deeper into him.

"Ahh, fuck, fuck," he groans in pleasure, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him, struggling to take me as I increase in intensity and speed. I move my hand, lacing my fingertips through his tousled blond hair and gripping tightly. I hear the slight sound of a wince between the cries that leave his lips. When I pull on his hair, his back bends and his face lifts beside mine. While I slide my lips along his neck, his breath quickens, and the sounds grow louder. I softly graze his ear with my lips.

"I promise you, if you keep up with those sounds, I will make you leave here in pain. Now, shut the fuck up and take this dick like the little bitch you are," I hiss as I smack his head down into the bed, muffling his noises. With a firm grip on his hair, I relentlessly thrust into him, pushing from the back of his head. My muscles tighten, and a familiar tingling sensation spreads in my stomach. I exert even more pressure on the guy's head as his hands flail in panic on either side of him. Probably due to the lack of oxygen, but I couldn't care less. I'm only concerned with this sensation I crave, this sensation I relentlessly chase. As I shut my eyes and let my head fall back, my stomach churns and my muscles tighten. I find myself in a state of bliss, floating on dark clouds as I continue to fall without end. With a sigh, I pour myself into the tight hole, letting everything go. With every second of my descent, I experience a release of tension throughout my body.

My ears fill with the sound of loud gasping. "Fucking hell."

And just like that, splat! The falling stops and I hit the ground. Naturally, he had to ruin the moment by opening his mouth. Reality strikes as the buzzing euphoria in my veins fades away. I swiftly withdraw from him, still catching the sound of his wincing. This isn't my first time with . . . Lance? Lanson? It begins with La. I know that, but I swear I tell him every time to shut the fuck up, and he never does.

"Fuck, Brayden, that was—" he splutters, still laying on his front with his head bent sideways, peering up at me. While he uncontrollably heaves. He appears spaced out, as if he doesn't know what year it is.

I don't need to hear what he has to say about what he did or didn't enjoy. The sensation is gone now, and I need him to be too. I grab a towel from my gym bag and walk toward the bathroom, but then I hear the click of my door before it flies open.

"Yo, Qua—" My best friend, who doesn't know how to knock, stops in his tracks. He takes in my naked form and the guy's bare ass laid out on my bed. Lanson desperately tries to stand and cover himself, but his legs give out and he falls to the ground, taking the sheet down with him.

Kal collapses in laughter, dramatically throwing his head back and hitting my door with his fits of hysterics.

"Quake, what did you do to him?" Kal puts his hand out toward him. Lanson is pulling his clothes on as best as he can, still with his ass on the floor. With a wince, he tries to stand up and awkwardly pulls his jeans back on. Maybe I was slightly too rough. I kinda tapped out toward the end.

"Lanson was just leaving." I deadpan, keeping my stare fixed on him with a bored expression. I remain exposed, like the day I was born, but I quickly conceal my now limp and sensitive dick with the towel in my hand.

"Lanson?" His eyebrows raise to his hairline as he stares at me in utter shock and what seems like amazement. Obviously, he's happy. I remembered his name.

"It's Lance." He sighs.

Oh. "That's what I said," I huff. "Time to get going, places to be, people to see," I wince while scratching the back of my head. Lanson blushes and tries to regain his composure. Without making a move, Kal keeps his eyes fixed on Lanson. Both of us remain motionless, fixated on him, urging him to hurry faster. Kal doesn't give a shit. The guy has seen me in worse positions than this. He has had to bathe me while I laid in my own vomit; the guy has more or less saved my life more times than I can count, so this is nothing. Lanson, or was it Lance? I forgot already which one it was, takes his glasses from the side table and puts them on. My jaw tightens as I observe his nerdy self, grabbing his jacket and glancing at Kal and then me. It's the fucking nerdy glasses appearance that does it for me with him. The first time I saw him in the halls, I noticed his wide eyes fixed on me, drinking me in, unaware that I was watching him the entire time. When our eyes finally met, his cheeks turned red, and he quickly snaps his head away, almost as if he might hurt himself with the sudden movement. Later, I realized we shared some classes. The next day, I made a point to keep my stare pinned on him. I could tell I made him nervous, the way he squirmed on his chair, but his eyes always found mine. That one look was what had me dragging him into the toilets after class and pushing him to his knees. Watching my dick feed into his mouth while he looked up at me through those black-rimmed glasses, with his big innocent brown eyes drowning in fear and desire, had me emptying my load down his throat embarrassingly quickly. I acknowledge him with a nod as his lips tighten and his shoulders slightly slump. Despite knowing this move, I'm confused why he consistently appears disappointed. While nearing Kal, who has shifted to the side, he suddenly comes to a stop, his stare still locked on the ground. Then, his eyes lift gradually to meet mine. He tilts his head slightly, furrowing his brows in confusion. I respond with a questioning stare, raising one eyebrow.

"What's Quake?" he questions, picking up on my nickname on the ice. Chuckling, Kal responds to him, saying, "Bray is Quake," before I can intervene and tell him not to worry and to leave.

Kal leans in close to Lanson's ear and whispers, "Brayden Anders is an earthquake on the ice, shattering any opponent he faces." Lanson springs into the air and turns to face Kal, who observes, "It seems like he's good at shattering people off the ice too." Kal's wide grin is clear as he laughs, playfully smacking Lanson on the ass. Lanson yelps and hastily makes his way out of my dorm, not bothering to glance back.

"Bye, Lanson!" I call out, and Kal and Lanson both shout in unison, "It's Lance!"

Rolling my eyes, I toss my towel at Kal. He does come out with some weird shit.

"Sorry, sweetness, you're not shattering this heart; my ass doesn't take dick," he teases in a girlie voice as he throws my towel back.

"Hurry and clean that snake of yours. We got a party to get to." Sporting a menacing smile, he moves his eyebrows up and down.

"Now you're talking," I grin, spinning on my heels and heading for the shower. It appears that my night isn't coming to an end just yet, and there's a slight chance I'll recapture that feeling of euphoria before it's over.