Eighteen

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TOBY

I still havemy fingers lodged in his ass, and his foot propped on the built-in shelf behind me. We don't fit in this tiny shower together, but fuck if we didn't squeeze in. Atty and I are pressed chest to chest and because I'm an addict and can't keep my hands off him, we twisted ourselves like pretzels until I could finger him as he wrapped his hand around our dicks and rubbed us off.

The simple pleasure I found on his face when I wrapped his hand around our erections, squishing them together, made me realize I was a bit of an obtuse idiot before. Atty is so very clearly new at everything gay. He wasn't just new at bottoming; he's virgin gay all the way around.

It's not that I'm entirely surprised I missed it. He was watching me just as obviously as I was watching him. Atty approached me at Medieval Company after the show. What I mistook for nerves at the prospect of bottoming when I made my intentions clear was actually for the entire gay act with another man.

But now that I know, it's entirely too obvious to mistake for anything other than what it is. Frotting is new. The surprise in his eyes at how good it feels to rub your hard dick against another man's momentarily spread across his face before it morphed into pleasure.

While I enjoyed watching him through it, I needed to see more. And thus, I resembled a pretzel while I rubbed his prostate and fingered his hole. Now we need to get clean again. Which proved impossible the first time, so why not make sure we have to try a second?

Atty's panting, his hand still gripping our softening spent cocks. His head drops. If I wasn't shorter than him, his forehead would likely have landed on my shoulder. But I'm just short enough that it's far too awkward to do when we're pressed as tightly as we are.

I push my fingers in deeper and Atty groans deep in his throat. He's been quiet today. Not that he's incredibly chatty, but there's just something that has kept him quieter than normal. I'm made all the more aware since we've been talking a lot lately.

We're finally getting to know each other. Our fuck dates linger as we lay in bed and chat about nothing. Not sex nothings, just random shit that comes up. I love those moments.

His sudden quietness hasn't stopped his willingness and enthusiasm to fuck. Nor has it made him less obedient. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but I can feel it in my chest.

"You okay?" I ask.

Atty hums and nods. Then his stomach growls as if it has something to say on the matter. I chuckle when Atty snorts.

"Hungry?"

"Apparently hungrier than I thought, yes."

"Let's wash and then we can grab some food."

He nods again and I gently pull my fingers out of him. It takes us longer to get clean in the tiny space than it would be if we'd just showered separately. But at least it causes a bunch of laughter between us. The sound makes me settle a little and worry less about him being so quiet.

Honestly, the bathroom could absolutely have afforded a bigger shower. There's plenty of space. If I plan to live here for any length of time, I'm going to propose to the landlord that we remodel the bathroom a bit.

Then again, I've been here for almost a year. What period of time do I consider long enough to consider this proposition?

We dry off, dress, and head downstairs. I blame the fact that I've been lost in thought for missing that my roommates are home. It isn't until I step off the stairs into the kitchen that I freeze. Atty runs into me, grabbing my hips to steady us both. He shifts behind me to look at the four faces of my roommates sitting at the peninsula, staring at us silently.

Seconds tick by.

"Wow," Ramah sighs, and I nearly laugh at the awe in his voice.

"That's what a hockey player looks like in real life," Zuni murmurs.

Behind me, Atty snorts. It's enough to knock me out of my shock. Unfortunately, there's no way to hide Atty now. I can't just undo my mistake.

Sighing, I step aside and gesture to the four at the counter. "Ramah, Zuni, Miller, and Kelsey—my roommates. This is Atty." Before anyone can say anything at all, I grab a bottle of water from the counter and a slice of pizza from one of the open boxes and shove both at Atty. "How about a tour?" Then I steer him out of the kitchen.

"This is the dining room which, as you can see, we use as a catchall. Living room through there. The actual staircase. The one we've been using that has its own outside door was at one point the servant's stairs and entrance. And this was once a smoke room or something that we now use as another bedroom, though we haven't put an ad out for another roommate."

I push Atty inside and shut the door. Turning to him, I find him chewing a bite of pizza, looking at me with amusement. "I'm sorry," I say. "I honestly forgot what day it was, and that was shitty planning on my part."

Atty just smiles around his pizza.

"Look, I know that we're not exactly hiding what we're doing, but I don't think we're advertising it either. The last thing I want is to push you into something you're uncomfortable with. I'm not at all opposed to continuing to sneak around, if that's what you prefer. I can just grab us some of their pizza, we can disappear upstairs, and I'll deal with them later."

I stop talking when he pulls me toward him with his hand at the back of my neck and stuffs his slice of pizza in my face. Laughing, I take a bite.

"You're overthinking," Atty says.

Shaking my head, I chew through my bite before I talk. He takes another bite, too, and waits for me to speak. "They know we're fucking," I tell him. "One, because we don't necessarily try to keep quiet. And two, they've known that I've been sneaking someone into my room for a while now."

Atty nods, offering me more pizza. I take another bite.

"I know, but you're still overthinking. It's not a big deal."

There's something in his eyes that says otherwise. For a minute, we finish the pizza without conversation until there's nothing left but the crust. I don't eat the crust, so when Atty offers me a bite, I shake my head.

"So… Do you want to go back to my room or do I let us get pulled into conversation with them?" I ask. "There's no pressure either way, Atty. I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen." There's more I want to say like, I wouldn't force him to out himself like this under any circumstance. Now that they've seen him here and they already know we're fucking, that's basically what just happened, even if it was unspoken.

He's already said he's avoiding thinking about it. I don't want to be the cause of discomfort. And I don't want him to come to the conclusion that he feels too much pressure and breaks it off.

Because I like what we're doing. I like Atty, and I'm still fucking dumbfounded that I somehow got THE Hector Atlas in my bed and didn't know. I've had my dick in his ass and had no idea who I was fucking.

Talk about feeling stupid considering how much time I put into knowing everything there is to know about hockey!

"We can hang with them for a bit," Atty says with a shrug.

"I can take some pizza upstairs," I assure him. "I can totally feed you out of their view."

He grins, and it makes my stomach dance. His hand moves down my spine until it's at the base of my back and he pulls me to him. Atty's lips land on mine. "You're overthinking. It's not a big deal. And if we're eating their food, it's rude to take and run."

"It wouldn't be the first time," I promise. He raises a brow as he pops the last bite of pizza crust into his mouth. Then I realize what I just implied. "I mean that I've taken their food and run. Not that I've done this regularly. I've had plenty of guys over. But not—" I close my eyes as Atty becomes more and more amused and I keep digging myself into a deeper hole.

"I'm overthinking."

He chuckles. "You are."

"Sorry. I'm just very conscious of the fact that I threw you into this situation without meaning to, and I don't want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. They're good people and they won't do that intentionally, but…" I trail off, not wanting to finish it.

"I know. I appreciate your concern for me. But I'm fine."

He's being honest. I can see that. Even if there's still that something in his eyes that I can't quite identify. "Then let's get some food."

Atty pulls the bottle of water from the pocket in his gym shorts and swallows half of it before we leave the room. I continue to show him around the house before we make our way back into the kitchen. Instead of sitting with them at the peninsula, I gesture to the counter between the stove and fridge.

I hop up and open the pizza box that's sitting on the stove, not surprised at all to find it's my favorite—mushroom, onion, and sausage. After offering Atty a piece, I take a piece of my own. He takes a bite and then turns, pressing his back against my leg and facing my roommates.

They're watching again. Ramah with his mouth open as if he's just seen the sky open up and an angel descend. I'm surprised he hasn't crossed himself.

"Thanks for the pizza," I announce to break the silence, nodding at the pizza I know they bought for me. None of them like this combination.

"We always order you pizza," Kelsey says, her gaze moving between us.

"Is pizza on a hockey player's diet?" Miller asks.

I can almost see the grin Atty flashes his way. "Not during the season. But I eat what I want in the off season."

"How do you not get fat?" Zuni asks.

Oof.

"I run five miles four to five times a week. I also hit the gym or ice at the arena three or four days a week." He shrugs. "It's very easy to let your muscle mass fade, so athletes don't generally take too much time off from toning during their off season."

"I didn't realize that," Miller says, tilting his head to the side. "I kind of thought it was a big vacation."

"It is." Atty twists to grab another slice of pizza, his eyes meeting mine briefly. There's a slight smile on his lips. He faces my friends again and this time, he's resting between my legs. I scooch forward and hook one of my heels over his thigh.

My friends don't miss the possessive hold, but really, I just want to touch him. His hand drops to my thigh and fuck if my dick isn't happy with this.

"You'll find very few that don't keep some regimen during their vacations, though," Atty continues. "Our positions aren't guaranteed. All athletes are replaceable if they let their skills falter."

"That sounds like a lot of work. I'd hate being easily replaceable," Zuni admits.

"In nearly every job, you're replaceable," Kelsey says. "Including yours."

Zuni frowns. "I didn't think of it that way, but… that's not very comforting."

"How long are you going to keep playing?" Miller asks. He doesn't care much about hockey, so I appreciate he's trying to keep the conversation to something Atty would be comfortable with.

Atty shrugs. "I don't have any immediate plans to retire. I'm still doing very well in my game. In fact, I just saw a data cruncher name me as a wingman to watch out for next season."

My cheeks flush as my friends' eyes turn to me with knowing grins. "In my defense, I didn't know you were you," I say. "I truly think that."

Atty grins at me over his shoulder and, for fuck's sake, it makes everything inside me flutter.

"I know," he says. "I appreciate your confidence in me."

"Oh, I have a question!" Zuni interjects, and Atty turns his attention away. Thankfully because I'm feeling a little breathless. "Do hockey players like Toby's predictions?"

I frown but Zuni just grins as if that's the best question anyone has ever asked.

"Ah." Atty grins back at me. "Actually, as a whole, we like his predictions better than the so-called professionals most of the time. He's far more accurate."

"Of course, he is," Miller says. "His IQ is off the charts."

I wince. And then wince again when Atty shifts to look at me with a raised brow.

"You didn't tell him you're a brilliant genius?" Zuni asks.

I don't point out that ‘brilliant genius' is redundant. Instead, I sigh. "It didn't come up in conversation," I deadpan.

"It should," Ramah says, his tone super quiet. "It's really cool."

A smile tugs at my lips. "Thanks, Ramah."

"Wait. Go back to hockey," Miller interjects. "Do you have any single gay friends that you can set me up with?"

"Fuck's sake," Kelsey mutters, shoving at him. But Miller is unapologetically grinning hopefully at Atty.

Atty laughs. "No. My gay hockey friends are married or in a relationship."

"You have multiple?" Zuni asks, eyes wide.

I sigh. This is why we don't go out.

"Yes. Admittedly, I'm limited to those on my team or within my franchise, since I see them most every day."

"Who are they?" Zuni asks excitedly, pizza now forgotten.

"They don't watch hockey," I tell Atty apologetically.

"If we knew we'd meet a real hockey player one day, we might have put in the effort," Miller retorts.

And this is how we find ourselves in a conversation about gay athletes and whether Atty thinks there should be more or less. I watch him closely, making sure he's okay with the conversation and never feels uncomfortable. This could so easily turn to him, but not once did one of my friends mention his sexuality or what we were doing.

At the end of the day, I am so fucking thankful and appreciative of them. Especially since I think Atty had a good time and left with a smile and a belly full of pizza that I'm certain he was going to have to run extra miles to burn off.