27. Gabe
TWENTY-SEVEN
GABE
As January bled into February, Gabe’s bruises faded and the swelling in his hand went down.
He had a week or two more he’d have to have the splint on for, and then he’d start physical therapy.
His advisor agreed he would need to postpone his senior show, which gutted him.
Between his advisor, the financial aid office, and Brandon, they’d agreed he would stay enrolled for the semester but only take one class.
He chose his art history class. He would take a second class over the summer—the same one as Brandon, if they could swing it—and in the fall he would take one final class, along with his senior exhibition/project and review.
And graduate in about a year.
It was frustrating as hell to have his education sidetracked again after being in school for what felt like forever, but staying in one class helped him feel like he was still making progress. And he would have a lot more time to get his senior show ready.
Gabe looked up from reading on his iPad and across Brandon’s temporary bedroom at him, sitting dutifully at his desk in front of his Spanish homework.
He was hunched over, shoulders rounded, brow furrowed in concentration as he went through the module on the screen of his laptop.
It was sexy to see him work hard on things in his life outside of hockey.
Plus, he was sitting there shirtless in athletic shorts.
“Hey, baby?”
“Hm?” Brandon asked, looking like Gabe had pulled him out of a fog.
“I know we talked about sex being the reward after a diligent study session…”
“But?”
“But you’re sitting there nearly naked, and it’s distracting.”
“Do you want me to put a shirt on?”
“That is the last thing I want you to do.”
“Sex was the incentive.”
“But I’ve been staring at your chest, and being horny clouds my brain.”
“I seem to remember you being able to get a lot of work done while horny.”
“Drawing dicks is a different sort of ‘getting work done’ than reading about early twenty-first-century American painters.”
“I’ll give you that,” Brandon conceded. “None of them painted dicks?”
Gabe couldn’t help his smile. “Keith Haring painted dicks. Not until the eighties though, and I’m not that far in the book. I’m sure there are others that aren’t prominently featured in this text. Think of how good the studying will be with some post-nut clarity.”
Brandon finally laughed. He looked back at his computer screen and saved his progress, then shut his laptop. Victory .
Gabe put his iPad on the side table he’d claimed as his own while he was at Jackson and Ryan’s, then pulled his own t-shirt off as he watched Brandon’s slow couple of steps toward the bed.
Brandon had this accidental swagger that had little to do with confidence in the bedroom, but it probably had something to do with the confidence he had in his body’s capabilities in every other part of his life.
And the casual locker room nudity he was accustomed to.
Brandon climbed up on the bed from the foot of it, easily eclipsing Gabe’s body with his own.
“I wish you knew how good it felt to be under you,” Gabe said, pulling Brandon into a kiss with both hands on his cheeks. Someday, he would get to kiss Brandon without a splint on his hand.
“I may not know that, but I know how good it feels to have you under me.”
“How do you feel about finding out how good it feels to be inside of me?”
Brandon’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Really?”
“Ryan and Jack are out at dinner. Walker was sent back down. We’re all alone. That doesn’t happen often.” Gabe loved his roommates and his house, but it was not soundproof whatsoever, and someone was always home.
Brandon kissed him again, slow and slippery.
In the weeks they’d been kissing, he’d gotten a lot better, developing preferences and technique.
He liked the way Brandon held his jaw in place or nipped his bottom lip, the way he stayed close after their kiss ended, like he couldn’t bear to put distance between the two of them.
“Let’s do it.”
“I have condoms in my bag,” Gabe said. He came prepared. In the last few weeks, he’d stayed with Brandon when he was in Minnesota and gone back home when he was on a roadie. Sometimes he’d stay past when Brandon left and walk Lola with Ryan before getting dropped off.
He still wasn’t ready to drive.
Brandon found the condoms and the lube that was in the same pouch.
“All right, babe. Get back here,” Gabe said as Brandon hesitated.
“It’s probably dumb to be nervous about this.”
“It’s not. It’s normal to be nervous. I’m a little nervous.”
“About what?”
“Nervous you won’t like it, nervous I’ll make some ugly face and you won’t be able to come. I don’t know. We haven’t done it yet. Nerves are normal.”
“You think there’s a situation where looking at your beautiful face would make me not come?”
“Get back on the bed,” Gabe said, crawling down to the foot of the bed to pull Brandon back on it and back on top of him. They kept kissing, losing themselves in the slow make-out as Brandon ground his hips against Gabe’s, like he was trying to get Gabe to make some noises.
Gabe obliged, whimpering into Brandon’s mouth when he finally couldn’t take it any longer.
“Naked,” Gabe said, clumsily pushing at Brandon’s shorts. Brandon did the hard work of removing the rest of their clothing, and Gabe rolled over to get on his elbows and knees. He couldn’t put pressure on his hand yet, but being down on his elbows seemed fine with Brandon.
“I will never get used to this view. I will never take it for granted.”
“When my hand works again, I’ll draw it for you,” Gabe promised. He was racking up a list of dirty things to draw for Brandon .
“Until then, the real thing will have to do.” Brandon’s hands cupped his ass, giving it a firm squeeze so Gabe could feel the power in his grip.
Gabe hadn’t thought he was into guys like Brandon—big athletes who could probably bench him—but Brandon was proof of how wrong Gabe was.
He wasn’t about to complain about Brandon’s body though—there was a lot more to him than just hockey, just his body.
Brandon pulled Gabe’s cheeks apart and Gabe let him look his fill, even though he was worked up and ready to go.
His priority with Brandon was always to let him take his time.
To be ready for whatever they were doing.
He’d let Brandon finger him earlier that week and learned how much of a tease Brandon could be when he wanted to, but more importantly, he’d learned how good Brandon’s thick fingers felt inside of him.
“I’m going to go slow,” Brandon said, and Gabe heard him flick open the cap of the lube.
Brandon’s slick fingers were careful but sure as he slowly opened Gabe up.
Gabe was encouraging, both with words and with sounds, especially when Brandon found his prostate, and the sound that came out of his mouth was involuntary.
“Right there?” Brandon teased, rubbing over it again until Gabe was gripping the sheets, his balls already aching.
“Fuck, I’m ready, quit it,” Gabe said, a moan slipping out between his words as Brandon laughed a proud little laugh. He still pulled his fingers out and helped Gabe flip onto his back.
“Glad you want to do it this way,” Brandon said, opening the condom packet and carefully rolling it onto himself. Gabe knew he’d practiced because he told him, and the tender feeling Gabe already had in his heart for Brandon once again bloomed .
“Can’t imagine not getting to see your face when you’re balls deep in me.”
“Always romancing me,” Brandon said. When he leaned over to kiss Gabe, he was trembling.
“Hey,” Gabe said, voice quiet even though it was just the two of them. “I’m already having a great time. How ’bout you?”
“Yeah,” Brandon said. His smile was still nervous, lip between his teeth.
“Should we keep going?”
“Yes,” Brandon said decisively. He sat back on his heels to assess the situation, and Gabe grabbed a pillow to shove under his hips to help with the angle.
“You won’t hurt me. Go slow.”
Brandon nodded, unnaturally quiet, at least for being around Gabe. He lined himself up and pressed in, the blunt head of his cock slipping in easily. Brandon paused to give Gabe time to adjust.
“Remember when you joked about me not being able to come? I think the opposite problem might happen.”
Gabe laughed. “We will have a good time for as long as it lasts, and then we’ll do it again later, too.”
“Okay,” Brandon said, pressing in deeper. It took him a few thrusts before he seemed like he was getting comfortable, and when he pressed himself completely inside Gabe, he ducked down to kiss him again, face full of emotion. “Holy shit, baby.”
“Feeling good?”
“You have no idea. Fuck, Gabe.” He paused to breathe, his eyes drifting shut, hips grinding into Gabe in a movement so slow Gabe wondered if Brandon realized he was doing it. He caught Brandon’s lips in a kiss, and slowly Brandon started thrusting .
“That feels so good,” Gabe praised. From the familiar look on Brandon’s face, he knew Brandon was having a good time.
Brandon sat back up, his hands on Gabe’s hips as he held him steady and fucked into him.
With more endurance, he was going to melt Gabe’s brain.
He could already tell. Gabe was pleasantly full, not painfully split open, and he was glad to learn that the dick he had already proclaimed to be his new favorite felt so good in this application, too.
“I’m going to come. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just fuck me.”
Brandon followed his directions, not holding back. Gabe loved watching him come, the way he could see how his orgasm hit his entire body, the big involuntary sigh he let out when he was all done. He pulled out and tied off the condom, tossing it into the trash by the door and thankfully making it.
“How do you want to come?”