Jesse

After a shaky start, we kick Denver’s ass 3-1 and give Petroski his helmet taps and file into the locker room to celebrate.

It’s only a scrimmage to warm us up for the season, but it still feels good to win, especially at home in your own stadium.

I know if I don’t call my dad, there’ll be hell to pay, so I step out into the hallway while the guys fuck around in the locker room.

He actually sounds happy and tells me I did a good job. “Now make sure you bring that to the rest of the season and maybe we’ll make the Frozen Four this year and catch the eye of some scouts.”

And just like that, my good mood is gone.

“Sure dad, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Don’t go out and get wasted, you’ve got another game next weekend against Toronto, it’s only an exhibition, but you never know whose gonna see it.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow for your sister’s birthday?”

“Course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

We hang up and I’m about to go back into the locker room, but I send a quick message to Nate first.

‘Going back to Philly this weekend for my sister’s BD, wanna hang out tonight?’

I put my phone away so I’m not staring at it while I wait for a reply.

Back in the locker room, Jones puts an arm around me and tells me I did a good job and a wave of guilt hits me over what I did with his brother. Bro code. I broke the shit out of it and I’m planning on doing it again.

But don’t I have a good reason? Aren’t I stopping Nate from having his first time with some dick he meets on a seedy hook-up app? At least I’ll do my best to take care of him and make it good for him. Not that I’d word it like that to Jones.

“Coming to O’Neil’s?”

I hesitate. Nate hasn’t messaged me back yet, but if he does, I’d rather do whatever he wants to do than get drunk again. Yeah, I like getting drunk, but I like getting cute-as-fuck guys off more. Maybe he’ll be into me blowing him? I like the thought of taking my time while Nate loses it. If he says my name when he comes like he did last time, I might lose it as well.

“Nah, got studying to do.”

Jones looks at me like I just grew a second head.

“You studying?”

Clarke laughs beside us.

“Gotta get that C remember.”

“I thought Nate tutored you in that?”

Please don’t let him see how red my face has gone.

“Yeah well,”

I shrug. What the fuck does he want me to say?

He grins, “oh I see.”

“What?”

“It’s a girl. You’re going to get laid right?”

A couple of the guys whoop and, fuck, I wish I could tell Jones to shut up.

“Go ahead Engels, get your dick wet.”

I look at Petroski and he gives me a miniscule head shake I take as fucking idiot, and for once, I don’t think it’s aimed at me.

‘My parents are going out to dinner, meet at my house asap?’

I rush over to the bus stop, hoping I haven’t just missed one. How long does dinner take? An hour? Two hours? I hope they went to one of those fancy-ass places where it takes an hour between courses and it’s a five course meal.

At least forty minutes have passed by the time I reach Nate’s house. I half expect his mom to answer the door and ask what the fuck I’m doing there.

Thankfully it’s Nate, in jeans and a thin grey sweater, messy curls framing his face.

We go straight to his room and Nate kisses me before I can say anything.

“Hey,”

he says when he pulls away.

“Hey.”

He laughs. Fuck he’s cute. I bend down to kiss him again and he runs his hands up and down my arms.

“Lift me onto the bed,” he says.

I do what he asks. He’s a lot lighter than my teammates when I fuck around picking them up on the ice. But it’s easier to lift people when your cock isn’t so hard it’s aching.

I kiss down his neck and the part of his shoulder poking out from his sweater. I wish I could take my time and do it all really slowly. Tease him until he can’t take any more. But I don’t know when his mom and dad will be back, so we don’t have much time.

I kiss down his sweater and lift it up to get at his bare belly before running my lips over the button on his jeans.

“,”

he tugs on my shirt to get my attention and I look up at him. “Take my pants off before you make me come.”

I slide back up to his lips and unbutton his jeans before pulling them down, this time I kneel and tug them all the way off. His bare feet are adorable and he laughs when I kiss one.

“Don’t, I’m ticklish.”

I have to stop myself from tickling him like I would a teammate.

I hook my thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and ask if I can take it off.

He nods.

“Tell me.”

“Did the hockey team have to watch a video on consent or something?”

I smile, but I don’t back down. Yeah, I want his consent, but I also want to know he wants it, wants me.

“Tell me.”

“Yes,”

he says, “you can take them off, please.”

That please kills me. I yank his shorts down and his cock springs loose. Nate sits up and wraps his legs around my waist while he kisses me.

“Your turn.”

“Take your shirt off first, I wanna see you.”

Nate looks up through his eyelashes and I think he’s going to say no. I want to remind him I’ve seen him already, and I liked what I saw, but then he lifts his sweater off over his head and lies back so I can watch him while I undress, feeling his eyes burning through me the whole time.

Being naked with someone the first time is kind of a big deal, and I hope he’s not rushing it. I realise, as I press my body against his, keeping my weight up on my elbows, that if we do everything now, he won’t need me to ‘teach’ him anymore. It’ll be over.

Nate shivers as he wraps his arms around me.

“Cold?”

He shakes his head, “not cold.”

Fuck.

We grind against each other slowly as we make out. It feels even better than fucking. Maybe because I know I can’t just have everything right away, maybe because I’m not supposed to be doing it. Maybe because it's Nate.

I wrap my hand around his cock and he shivers again.

“Fuck, .”

Even the way he swears is cute. In his fancy, private school, upstate New York accent.

“That feel good?”

“Mmm.”

I tangle my other hand in his hair and grasp it, not too hard, just enough for him to feel it and he starts to arch his back, wanting more.

I want to suck him, but that’s one more thing out of the way. One step closer to him being done. Ready for his smart boyfriend.

But then he looks at me and says my name, like he’s trusting me one hundred percent and I want to give him everything.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?”

The way his breath hitches and his heart starts pounding even harder against my chest tells me the answer.

“Tell me.”

He doesn’t even smile this time, just nods and says, “yes please.”

I run my lips over his neck, his chest, his stomach. His skin burning. Hands on my head. My hair too short to grab onto.

I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and he moans. The tip’s salty with pre-cum when I lick it. This is probably going to be quick, but I can take my time next time. If there’s a next time. If not, I’d better make it memorable for him now.

I take him as far back as I can and he gasps and lets go of my head. When I pull out to the tip, he’s grasping the bedsheets, his knuckles white.

He starts to push up into my mouth, I don’t even know if he notices. His cock taps the back of my throat and I draw on my experience to stop from gagging.

Nate’s moans get louder as I speed up, taking him into my throat now. He’s thrusting up, fucking my mouth and I go for it, gripping his hips to steady myself as I swallow around his cock and he tenses before unloading into my mouth.

When I come back up, he’s panting and his chest is covered in sweat. He looks at me like he can’t even see straight, a lazy smile starting in the corners of his mouth.

“Okay?”

He nods.

“Can’t… talk… don’t… make…”

“Shh.”

I put my head on the pillow next to his and listen to his breath calming down.

When it’s nearly normal again, turns his head to face me, “, that was…”

I laugh. “Your first blow job’s pretty good right?”

“Pretty good? Is everyone as good at that as you?”

“Don’t, you’re gonna give me a big head.”

Nate puts his hand on my chest.

“I wanna get you off, but I don’t know if I can do that as good as you do.”

“You don’t have to get me off, this is for you remember.”

He leans up on his elbow and frowns.

“No, this isn’t just about me, I want you to have a good time too.”

A good time, why does that crush me?

“I am, I like making you come. It’s hot.”

Nate runs the palm of his hand over my chest in circles, “I like making you come… fuck, I can’t believe the things I say and do when I’m with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean…”

There’s a noise outside, I quickly realise it’s tires on gravel.

“I think my parents are home.”

“I’ll get dressed.”

“Wait,”

Nate pushes me back down and I let him. He puts his pants and sweater back on, and I guess he doesn’t have to clean up this time, because I swallowed it. I never usually do that with guys.

“Wait here,”

he says, “don’t get dressed.”

I think I hear his parents putting their key in the door and voices as Nate goes down to meet them. What’s he saying? Is he telling them I’m here?

Hiding in his room feels kind of shitty, and I lose my hard-on and want to get dressed. When the door to the attic opens, I cover myself with a sheet and Nate laughs.

“It’s okay, they can’t hear us up here and they won’t come in.”

He starts taking his sweater off and I can’t believe I’m going to stop that, but I am.

“What’s wrong, don’t you want me to…”

“No, I don’t need you to. I don’t want to do it while your parents are downstairs and we have to be quiet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry I won’t be here this weekend.”

Nate shrugs, “I’ll see you when you get back right?”

“Yeah,”

I really hope so.

“So like, do I have to climb out the window or…”

“No,”

he laughs, “they know you’re here.”

“Oh.”

“I told them we were studying.”

I follow Nate downstairs and his mom comes out of the living room where it looks like she’s making Nate’s dad watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills – the best one by the way.

She looks happy, but then, maybe I’m shit at noticing these things.

“You were great tonight,” she says.

“What?”

“In the game?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks, thank you Mrs Jones.”

She laughs and slaps my arm, “how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Anna.”

“Anna, thanks.”

“Yeah, you really beat the shit out of that Denver goon,”

Nate’s dad shouts from the living room.

I mumble a thanks and say goodbye to Nate’s mom. I wish I could kiss Nate goodbye at least, but we just linger awkwardly in the doorway for a minute before he says goodbye and closes the door.