Kingston
We won our last game. It was fucking epic too. Not even close. We dominated that field, and it felt fantastic.
I can’t wait to celebrate with Camden. Alone.
Coming in my pants with him the other day wasn’t enough. But we’ve been busy all week, and there was really no time. I want to show him all the things that can feel so damn good. I want to make him feel good and free.
I want him to experience everything.
Safely. With me.
And yeah, I have to admit, when I watched him come apart in my arms, it felt like flying.
But tonight is also about celebrating with our team and our classmates. So, we’re at the party, hanging out and having a pretty good time. Camden is sitting on the tailgate of his truck with LeAnn. They look cozy, both in hoodies and her head on his shoulder.
Maybe to some, they could even look like a couple, but I know the truth. The truth he trusted me with.
I’m sitting with Dixon, who has his cool-as-fuck acoustic guitar with him tonight.
He’s pretty good, having played around with it for years.
He’s self-taught, but you wouldn’t know it.
The talent drips from his fingers as he sings an old Fleetwood Mac song.
Oakley and Christian both joining in, totally off-key.
I laugh and take a swig from my whiskey bottle. I don’t want to drink too much though. Whiskey dick is a thing, and I intend to use mine tonight.
Bates doesn’t look happy at all, though, as he eyes Dixon from across the fire. I don’t know what the hell it is between those two, but I don’t want to get in the middle of it again. That shit was awkward as fuck.
Kennedy is perched on another tailgate with a guy I don’t recognize, which is weird around here. He looks a little older than us. I think she’s trying to make me jealous as she leans into him and flirts, but I couldn’t care less.
He can definitely have her. I hope his dick is big, or at least his confidence is. She’ll crush even the biggest ego. I know.
I catch Camden’s eye. He gives me a coy smile, and as much fun as I’m having, all I really want is to get out of here with him.
“You okay?” Dixon nudges me, and I pull my attention from Cam.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”
He keeps his voice low, strumming his guitar to a tune I recognize as a Chris Stapleton song, but he doesn’t sing along with this one. “I don’t know. That shit in the locker-room was kind of weird.”
Heat floods through me, and not from embarrassment, but anger at the words that were used. I’m still furious about it, though I know Camden doesn’t want any attention brought to him, and I told myself I wouldn’t do that anymore. “They’re assholes.”
He smiles at that, his fingers going over the strings rhythmically. “Yeah. But why did you get so mad?”
I shrug, but I don’t feel shame for sticking up for my best friend. “I just think it’s bullshit to call people names.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, but I don’t go into more detail. “Yeah. I guess we should all probably grow up a little.”
“Not being bigoted assholes is probably a great idea,” I say grimly, taking another swig.
He studies me carefully again, but he doesn’t say anything else, getting lost in his song as Bates gives him the death glare. Curiosity has me wanting to open my mouth, but I decide against it.
That’s their business.
Not mine.
Finally, after switching to water for the past hour, I talk Camden into going back to his house. His mom doesn’t have to work tonight, but I know he’d still rather be there than camping out, just in case anything happens.
When we sneak through the dark house, I can’t wait for his bedroom door to close behind us. He clicks the lock in place, and I reach for him, taking him into my arms. “That was a damn good last game, Prescott.”
“Better than QB,” he murmurs against my lips as I pull him into a kiss, already fighting to remove his thick team hoodie from his body.
“You’ll always be my QB,” I say against his mouth as we reconnect after I toss his hoodie. His hands slide underneath my shirt, making me hiss. “Fuck! You’re cold.”
“Shhh.” He laughs. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Asshole.” I push him toward the bed, removing my hoodie and shirt in one quick motion as he pulls his shirt off and lands on his back on top of the covers.
I know he’s still worried about this. But when we fool around, I’m not thinking about anything or anyone else. I kick my shoes and socks off before I walk to the bed, my breathing heavy as I undo my jeans, and my fingers tremble as I lower the zipper.
His eyes track the motion, and I watch his chest rise and fall. “Kingston . . .”
“I don’t really want to get jizz all in my jeans and underwear again. That shit was uncomfortable.”
He laughs nervously as he pushes up on his elbows. “Yeah. It was.”
I push my jeans down, leaving my boxer briefs on, not wanting to push him. His tongue peeks out, licking his lips as he eyes the bulge in my underwear.
“I guess I should probably take mine off too.”
“If you want.” I palm my erection through the fabric, wound up from the high of winning the game and kissing him briefly.
He looks nervous as he shoves to his feet, pulling off his shoes and socks before pushing his own jeans to the floor and kicking them away.
Both of us stand still in his shadowy room, staring at each other in only our boxer briefs.
The only light is a sliver of a moon streaming through his one window.
I reach out gently, moving my hand over his lower stomach, noticing the way the muscles ripple. He’s hard, his cockhead poking out through the top of his briefs, and I take a deep breath. My finger glides over the wet tip, and he shudders. “Fuck, Kingston,” he breathes quietly.
“I only see you,” I say because I don’t want him to think I’m fantasizing he’s Kennedy or any other girl. That I’m telling myself it’s totally fine I’m fooling around with a guy because I’m thinking about a girl. That’s not what’s happening here, and I need him to know that. “Camden.”
I bring my finger to my lips, his precum clinging to it as I open my mouth and taste him.
“Oh fuck,” he gasps.
It’s not bad. A little salty, but there’s a sweetness too. I grab the back of his neck and pull him to me, kissing him hard as we move back toward the bed, our bodies collapsing onto the mattress together, a tangle of long, strong limbs.
“We have to be quiet. I wouldn’t know how to explain this to my mom,” he says, and I push my briefs down to free my aching cock.
“Listen, your mom is hot, but I don’t want to think about her right now.”
He groans and playfully shoves me, but I capture his arms, maneuvering on top of him, his body pinned under mine and his arms trapped above his head. “Asshole,” he hisses, but it’s playful.
“I only want you right now. Don’t be jealous.”
He growls, but he’s not fighting me. I lean down and nip his bottom lip, making him hiss before leaning up and capturing my mouth, kissing me hard as if to punish me.
Joke’s on him, though—it’s fucking bliss.
I kiss him back, my free cock grinding against his covered erection, both of us grunting and panting as we writhe together and once again, fight for dominance.
His arms are pinned by me, but his fingers twine with mine, holding on tight. And I realize I am just as pinned as he is. “I want to feel your cock against mine,” I say breathlessly.
He makes some sort of strangled noise as he nods his head in permission, and I pull one of my hands free from his, lowering it until I reach the top of his underwear. “Please,” he begs, his hips thrusting up.
I grin but don’t give him what he wants yet. Holding my weight off him by our entangled hands, I drag my free one over his hip. I can’t see well, but he doesn’t flinch when I do it. “Is it better? I saw the bruise in the locker-room. It’s still nasty.”
I can’t believe I fooled around with him the other day, knowing he was hurt. I want to be more conscious of it this time, if he’s still in pain. “I’m fine, Kingston. I promise. It doesn’t hurt.”
He tries to move his hand to his briefs, but I push it away, giving him a warning look. “You swear?”
He tosses his head back on the bed, clearly frustrated as he squirms under me. “Yes. Are we doing this or what? My balls are getting blue.”
I chuckle at that. Everything is so fun with him.
Even fucking around. Who knew? I finally move my hand from his side and to his briefs, awkwardly pushing them down and freeing his cock.
I can’t help myself, looking down and examining it, only having seen it a couple of times.
But never hard. I felt it the other day but didn’t see it.
It jerks at my appraisal, and I smile, gripping it in my hand.
“Fuck, Kingston.” He pulls his other hand free, leaning up on his elbows against me, and I use my hand to hold my weight off him so we can both watch as I slowly stroke his length.
He’s longer than me by an inch or two, but my dick is a little thicker.
“You have a nice dick too,” I say with a grin, and he rolls his eyes.
But then his head falls back as he still rests on his elbows, his body pressed against mine, when I run my thumb through his slick slit, loving the sticky precum he’s expelled.
Knowing how turned on he is. Knowing I did this to him.
“I want to feel you too.” He shoves at my chest until I get the hint and roll to my side. He does the same, so we’re facing each other. He grabs my cock, slowly stroking it at the same pace I’m jacking his.
I moan and lean in to kiss him deeply, both of us gripping each other’s hard cock and bringing each other pleasure. “I’m close. Way too fucking close, Cam. But it feels too good.” I babble because it does. His hand is big, and his grip is firm. Not too hard, but just right as he strokes me.
“Yes. Me too. God, I want to feel your cum all over me.”
“Jesus,” I groan as I thrust into his hand. “I want that too.”
It’s not long before I’m crying out into his mouth and coating his stomach with my release, lying on our sides, our legs tangling together. Moments later, he does the same, his cum shooting over my cock and lower abs.
We lie there, kissing and rutting our softening cocks into each other’s hands until Camden starts laughing, and I pull back to look at him. “What?”
“I just came all over you.” He laughs again, but it’s quiet and a little unsure.
I grin, unable to stop the laugh that leaves my throat. “Well, yeah. That was kind of the goal.”
He shakes his head. “It’s so fucking surreal,” he says with another laugh and kisses me softly, the laughter dying.
I grip his jaw with my hand and kiss him back, smiling against his mouth. “Yeah. It is. But it was good, right?”
I know he came, and so did I. But I can’t stave off the insecurity that comes bubbling up in that moment. It’s his turn to grip my cheek in his big hand. He kisses the tip of my nose and nods. “It was fucking great. You’re amazing. Thank you.”
He kisses me again before I can say anything else, and I lean into the kiss.
See? This totally works.