Backpack

TREY HADto laugh at Dewey and Pete on the ride home after the game. The locker room celebration had gone on for a while. It was only their third game of the season and their first at home, and yeah, the team was psyched. Trey had emerged from the locker room, showered, happy, and as he and Russ did their part of the locking up, found Dewey and Pete waiting for him by the locker room tunnel, both of them dancing a little in the eleven o’clock chill but talking like old friends.

Their subsequent banter as Trey took Pete to his little house in West Sac had only enforced that impression, and Pete had begged piteously to be Dewey’s “bestie” because, as he said frequently, his company was way better than Dewey’s roommate’s offer of beer.

“No,” Trey told him firmly. “He can’t be your bestie because I’m your bestie, and I have no social skills, so I can’t afford to give you up.”

Pete snorted. “You’re my cousin—you can’t lose me. I’m like amusing toe fungus. I sort of hang around and make your life colorful. Russ is your bestie, I’m your cousin, and Dewey’s your boyfriend. You need to get this straight because there’s a test tomorrow.”

“Is it in the am or pim?” Dewey asked, and they both laughed so hard, Trey couldn’t get them to explain what the joke was. The fuck was a pim anyway?

The drive home was so riotous, the quiet was almost stunning after Trey dropped Pete off, waiting until he was inside the house and flashed his porch light before he pulled away.

“Wow,” Trey said, his cheeks aching from smiling. “You two. I had no idea what I was doing when I introduced you.”

“He’s a blast,” Dewey said. “A grown-up blast, you know? Not like college, where the fun guy always has a story about how he was a jerk to somebody less popular. I mean, even your aunt’s assistant—”

“Oh God, Caitlyn?” Trey asked, remembering the girl’s blank silence when Trey had called asking for Nan’s itinerary.

“Yeah,” Dewey said. “Tragically stupid. I’ve heard. But apparently she threw herself at Pete and he was like, ‘Sorry, honey. You need to graduate from college first, okay? I’m too old for you.’ Which is a nice way to turn somebody down. And the fact that he’s crushing on my boss shows he’s got good taste.”

“Yeah, Pete’s a good guy,” Trey said.

“But you know his biggest failing,” Dewey said as Trey piloted them toward the freeway.

“He gossips?”

“Hell no,” Dewey dismissed with a snort. “No, his biggest failing is how far away he lives. Damn, Trey, you’re going to spend an hour taking people home before you get to bed.”

Trey grunted. “Yeah, but it was worth it.” He grinned. “You had fun, right?”

“Had a blast,” Dewey assured him. “In fact—” He paused and put his hand on Trey’s thigh. “—I, uhm, brought a change of clothes. I, uhm, know you’ll probably fall asleep as soon as you walk through the door, but if you don’t mind dropping me off at work tomorrow, maybe we could, uhm, snuggle again?”

Trey’s heart thudded so hard he could feel it in his throat. “You want to come over to snuggle?”

“Or whatever,” Dewey said innocently.

Trey covered his hand and laced their fingers together. “I’m sure we could manage some whatever,” he said, wanting to burble with triumph. His team had won, he got to sleep in tomorrow, and Dewey was going to stay over.

It was like a trifecta of perfect things, and for once Trey wasn’t going to worry about how it was going to work.

He was going to call the plays as they came to him and see if the goal would happen on its own. They talked about the game after that—Dewey listened to Trey go on and on about strategy and letting his forwards control the ball and how good his defense had been. He asked questions and praised plays and was generally the best audience Trey could have asked for in a postgame breakdown.

And his hand never left Trey’s thigh.

THERE WASan order to things when a person got home. He parked the SUV in the driveway since the garage was full of sports equipment, led them in the front door, and turned on the lights, calling softly for Beckham as he moved into the house.

He turned to check that Dewey had locked the door behind him and was surprised to see Dewey leaning against the door as he locked it… and turned the lights back off.

In spite of the tingling in his thighs, the fluttering in his stomach, the rush of blood flowing under his skin from their touch on the drive home, Trey was still taken aback.

The absolutely wicked gleam in Dewey’s eyes as he dropped his backpack to the ground beside the door knocked him in the solar plexus, and he couldn’t breathe.

“Trey?” Dewey said, his almost-elfin features assuming an innocence that made Trey’s mouth dry.

“Yeah?”

“Is the cat fed?”

Trey felt a smile starting at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“Are we still high from the game?” Dewey teased.

“Oh yeah,” Trey said, moving closer in the darkness, until he could feel Dewey’s body heat as he leaned against the door.

“Ready to give talking about it a little rest?”

His smile was so naughty. Trey had to kiss it.

He started with a corner of the wide, smiling mouth, tickling a little with his tongue, slipping it gently along the seam of Dewey’s lips.

Dewey groaned and opened his mouth, tilting his head and pulling Trey in for ravishment. Trey went willingly, the adrenaline and excitement and furious joy of the win converting in a heartbeat to full-throttle desire.

Dewey kissed him back, matching kiss for kiss, and Trey pressed him up against the door because he wanted to get closer, wanted their flesh to meld, wanted them to be naked, skin to skin.

Dewey, slender and lithe,as Trey had noted rather dreamily, gave a little bounce and wrapped his legs around Trey’s waist. Trey turned and, without breaking the kiss, strode toward the couch.

Dewey pulled back and squeaked, “The bed!”

“Do I look like a wrestler?” Trey asked breathlessly. “I’ll race you for the bed!”

Dewey stood up, and their eyes locked playfully.

“Now?” Dewey asked.

“Now!” Trey ordered, and they both took off, scrambling down the hallway, shedding their clothes as they went.

Trey got there in time to pull the covers back, and then Dewey stretched out on the bed, naked, put his hands behind his head, and stared up at Trey with twinkling eyes.

“Got lube?” he asked, crossing his ankles primly.

“By the grace of God…,” Trey murmured, pulling open his drawer and grabbing the tube. Very deliberately he slid it under the pillow Dewey was using, the action bringing them close enough to kiss.

“Under the pillow?” Dewey whispered, outraged.

“I have things I’d like to do to your naked body first,” Trey whispered back. “Good things. This is a special occasion for me. I’m gonna enjoy it.”

“Ooh… I’m a special occasion,” Dewey murmured, uncrossing his ankles and moving his hands so he could run them up Trey’s bare upper arms. “Will you enjoy me this much if I become an everyday treat?”

“Love to find out,” Trey breathed, mesmerized by his forwardness, his impudence. His life.

“Me too!” Dewey waggled his eyebrows, and Trey kissed him, moving his body over Dewey’s, welcomed by his legs and arms wrapping around him, holding him tight.

Their naked skin on naked skin sliding together was the most erotic of sensations, and Trey began to shudder with urgency.

He moved down Dewey’s chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and tonguing it until Dewey clenched his hands in Trey’s thick hair. Trey moved to the other, and Dewey groaned.

“Trey?” he whispered, voice thready.

“What?” Trey lifted his head, almost dancing with urgency.

“I know you’re trying for foreplay, but can we jump to the big-ticket ride? I need… oh my God, now!” And with that, Dewey reached behind him and grabbed the lube under the pillow, shoving it into Trey’s hand.

Trey was honestly stunned. “But… but… oh my God, Dewey, your cock is right there!”

“It is,” Dewey practically whimpered. “But my ass is right below it, and I’m dying.”

Trey was going to tell him no on general principles and move down to take Dewey’s delicious, drooling member into his mouth. He could almost imagine the taste, the feel of it on his palate, and the thought alone made him grunt and undulate against the bed.

He had to stop because he was going to spend himself on the sheets.

And suddenly he got Dewey’s urgency—and his own.

He took the lube and went to work quickly, whispering, “You owe me a long, slow, merciless fuck with all the bells and whistles,” as he thrust his first finger in to the knuckle and watched as Dewey arched his back and moaned.

“That’s a promise, right?” Dewey hissed, lifting his bottom and pushing against Trey’s invasion. “Because it’s not making me want you less.”

Trey added another finger and went slower this time, gentler, and he indulged himself with a quick slurp along Dewey’s length.

“Bwah!” Dewey groaned, beating the bed with his hands. “Please! It’s like I’ve been waiting for you for my whole life!”

Who could resist that? Trey slid up along Dewey’s slender body and positioned himself at his slick and stretched entrance. “You’re sure?” he asked, thrusting his hips the tiniest bit.

“Please,” Dewey begged. “I need you so bad.”

Trey thrust in, gently, gently, gently, and then pop, his head was inside and his shaft swallowed by Dewey’s ass as Dewey shuddered in his arms.

“Okay?” Trey asked, the backs of his thighs quivering with the need to move.

“So okay,” Dewey whispered. He brought his hands up to smooth Trey’s curly hair back from his forehead, to cup his cheeks. “Go,” he said. “C’mon, baby, let’s fly.”

Trey snapped his hips forward then pulled back, then forward again, and Dewey’s back arched and he cried out.

“Like that!” he crowed, and Trey gave a shaky laugh as he continued to thrust. Dewey was vocal and insistent and pushy. “More more more—yes! Oh God. Keep going. So good. Don’t stop!”

Trey loved it. He couldn’t remember the last time a lover had so delighted him, made him tingle with only his words, but Dewey did. He begged, he urged, he praised, and Trey kept fucking him, feeling like a god.

Trey’s own balls tightened, a climax beginning its rush up his spine. He rocked back on his ankles and hauled Dewey’s backside up so he could pound at a premium angle.

“Grab yourself,” he panted, wanting to see. Dewey’s cock was a perfect stroking handful, and Trey had not tasted it nearly enough. He wanted to watch Dewey’s long-fingered hand wrap around it, see Dewey squeeze along its length, hear Dewey’s groan as he touched himself just right, and still Trey continued to thrust in his backside.

Dewey’s climax was as much of a surprise as Dewey himself. It hit hard and fast, spurting across his stomach in a great arc, and Dewey’s cries of release and his asshole’s tight grip on Trey’s cock shot Trey right into the stratosphere along with him. His entire body washed in fire and ice, and warmth blew straight from his core and his groin to his chest as he came.

He couldn’t stop the tremors that wracked him, didn’t want to, and he dropped Dewey’s hips and fell forward, little minithrusts rocking them both as Dewey groaned in happy completion next to his ear.

With a final sigh, Trey sank onto him, loving his long, sturdy muscles, like a dancer’s. Loving how he could support Trey’s weight.

“Oh God,” Dewey breathed. “That was even better than I hoped.”

“Just wait,” Trey panted. “Wait until I can make a plan and stick to it.”

Dewey laughed softly. “Even if you score a thousand times, Trey, I’m not going to let you scream ‘Goal!’ when you come.”

Trey convulsed with laughter at the thought and held Dewey even tighter. He’d always assumed the world would be perfect, his job would be perfect, his life would be perfect when he met the right guy, but he was starting to suspect that it could all be in chaos, and might continue to be, but the right guy made it perfect anyway.

And if it wasn’t perfect, the right guy could at least make him smile, and that was perfect too.

TREY HADpulled himself up along Dewey’s body and settled into him, one arm stretched out, Dewey’s head on his shoulder, before he remembered the niceties.

“Should I get a cloth?” he murmured.

“Why?” Dewey asked, nuzzling his shoulder. “Am I supposed to forget it happened?”

Trey chuffed out a laugh. “No, but, you know… some guys are all about the wipes.”

Dewey gave a drowsy snort. “My ass is not a coffee-shop table,” he said. “There are some messes I don’t mind as much as others.”

Trey’s laughter rumbled out of his throat, and he dropped a kiss on top of Dewey’s head. “Your mouth….”

“Will feel great on your cock,” Dewey said cheekily. “But we do need a washcloth before that happens. Let’s glow a little first.”

“God, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” Trey told him.

“But you must have won a game recently, or you would have lost your job,” Dewey said, all innocence, and Trey chuckled.

“Man does not live on soccer alone,” he murmured, his eyes going to half-mast in spite of his efforts to stay awake.

“Sleep,” Dewey mumbled, apparently on the same page. “Sleep. We’ll do this some more. And again. There’s got to be more. So much more.”

“And again and again and again…,” Trey sang, and then his body, replete and tired from what he had to admit had been a helluva week, pulled him into sleep.

HE AWOKEa few hours later to use the bathroom and remembered the washcloth for himself then. He rinsed it out and then brought it back to the bed stand, just in case.

As he got back in bed, Dewey slid out and grabbed the cloth, chuckling. Trey closed his eyes and looked forward to holding him again when he returned.

He was awakened by a hot, wet mouth on his cock and a firmly stroking fist.

“Oh, hello,” he mumbled, rolling to his back while Dewey scrambled to fit between his thighs. Oh wow, the decadence of bending his knees, spreading himself out, and then reaching down to tangle his fingers in Dewey’s thick blond hair.

Dewey’s throat worked him for a moment, and he tilted his head back. “Ahhhh….” The glorious sensation, the blessed relief of somebody else taking the helm, giving the commands, sucking his cock!

Dewey slurped along his length and finished off with a lick at the end. “Want a preview of what’s next?” he asked. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

Trey stared down the length of his torso to Dewey’s face, peering out from between his spread thighs, and the raw eroticism made him pulse in Dewey’s fist. “Keep sucking,” he breathed, and Dewey’s low chuckle brushed breath across his sensitized head.

“Okay,” Dewey said, lowering his head for a quick slurp. He let a little spit dribble down between Trey’s cheeks, and Trey pressed his feet against the bed, torn between pushing on Dewey’s head—gently—and reaching down to spread himself for what he thought would be coming next.

Dewey’s bony finger was enough to make him clench his hands, his body tingling to the tips of his toes, to the ends of his hair, so caught up in the surprise of arousal so close to sleep.

“You like that,” Dewey whispered. “Good.”

Then he added another finger and lowered his head. Trey moaned and bucked, and Dewey pulled back, keeping Trey’s cock gripped in his fist.

“Now see,” Dewey murmured, “now I’m torn. ’Cause either way I want to ride you, but which way… which way…?” While he was taunting Trey, he reached under the crumpled comforter and pulled out a small, slickened object that Trey barely recognized from his end table.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. It had been so long since he’d even remembered sex was a thing, he’d almost forgotten he had that.

“Don’t worry,” Dewey murmured. “I washed it. Found it last time I was here, ’cause I’m nosy.” He bumped Trey’s cockhead with his nose, and Trey whimpered in need. “And I thought, ‘I want him inside me so bad, but what if he likes to bottom?’ and then I found this, and I thought, ‘Aha! Crazy what modern technology can do.’” As he spoke, Dewey’s clever fingers were busy with the matter at hand. He added a little extra slick to his fingers and spread it along Trey’s pleasantly aching rim. He brought the plug to Trey’s entrance and thrust it inside, to the stretching point, and then…

Left it, while he continued to taunt Trey not just with his words but with his busy, voracious mouth, which was licking and sucking and tormenting even though Dewey was no longer fisting his cock.

“So,” Dewey said, his voice so gruff Trey was relieved to know this was arousing him as well, “I’ve got to admit I’m dying here. I woke up with a hard-on and your come dribbling down my ass, and I needed you all over again.”

“I will come on your face,” Trey managed, “if you do not—ahhh….”

Dewey thrust the plug all the way in and Trey had to relax, give in to the dark pleasure washing through his body if he didn’t want to climax too soon.

When he could breathe again, he realized Dewey had straddled him and was holding his cock, sliding it inch by inch through his rim. Trey imagined he was adjusting to the stretch, the burn, the deliciousness of being filled, much as Trey was adjusting to the smooth piece of soft silicone in his own channel.

“Whooow….” Dewey breathed as he slid in that last… two… inches. He paused for a moment and leaned forward, his hands on Trey’s chest. “God. I thought, ‘It could not possibly have felt that good, but it’s even better this time, and… oh!” He rose a little and sat again, and Trey echoed that tiny, helpless sound. Dewey paused at the bottom and shuddered, then peered into Trey’s eyes through the fall of hair across his brow. “Fast now?” he pleaded.

“Yeah….” Trey sighed, anchoring Dewey’s hips with his hands and arching his backside against the mattress. With a heave, he thrust up into Dewey’s body, and it was Dewey’s turn to tilt his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat, his mouth open in soundless joy.

Dewey adjusted his position enough to give Trey some room for longer, harder strokes, and Trey continued to thrust, but the position made the thrusts slower, not as hard but more tantalizing.

The pressure in Trey’s backside upped the urgency, and the plug jostled every time Trey pulled back to stroke. He was shaking with arousal but almost helpless to relieve it, and Dewey was making greedy, unsatisfied little sobs as he rode.

“You ready?” Trey asked, pulling his knees up in anticipation of rolling them both over.

In response, Dewey tightened his knees around Trey’s flanks and leaned sideways. Trey followed him, and they rolled so seamlessly the rhythm of the fucking didn’t even falter, and Trey found himself pounding furiously before he could stop himself. Dewey’s cries grew louder, more urgent, and his hands kneaded at Trey’s biceps, his shoulders, his chest, while Dewey rode his desire higher… higher… higher….

Trey gave a brutal, powerful jerk of his hips, and Dewey cried out, spurting come between them without a touch to his own cock. His ass gripped Trey unmercifully and Trey gave a hoarse shout, burying his face in Dewey’s shoulder as his own climax was ripped out of him, the powerful ripples of his muscles milking him, from taint to balls to cockhead, of every drop of pleasure he’d ever imagined sex had to offer.

Dewey was stroking his neck, his shoulders, cupping his cheeks, and Trey melted into him, well and truly tired now, and so, so satisfied.

This is why people come out. This is why they take risks. This is why they stand up in front of the whole damned world to say, “Let people love whom they choose, let them hold hands or kiss or date or marry who makes them happy.”

He smiled and rolled to the side, once again pulling Dewey up against him and not minding the mess, although knowing he’d need to visit the bathroom sooner than later.

“God,” he said passionately.

“Right?” Dewey panted. “I’m… I’m boggled. Round two doesn’t usually top round one.”

Trey laughed a little. “I bet between you and me, we could have a lot of firsts, you think?”

Dewey turned to him in the darkness and regarded him soberly. “I’d really like to try,” he said. “I mean, look what we’ve done so far, and we haven’t even been on our first date.”

Trey’s laughter shook him even as he ventured to the washroom to clean up again, and still when he returned and put on his sleep shorts for the night. He crawled back into bed next to Dewey and thought, rather grandly, that he really didn’t ever want to crawl back into bed on his own again.