Garrison
“All right, you all! We’re going out there, and we’re going to kick some serious ass!” I shout in the locker room. A lot of the other guys holler back, getting pumped up.
“Hell yeah! Last game of the season!” Oakley shouts too as he pulls his helmet over his head.
“They fucking suck! We’re going to eviscerate them!” Billy Collins chimes in. He’s a freshman, who will more than likely only be on the sidelines.
Man, I’m going to miss this shit. The heavy pads. The smell of the nasty locker room and sweaty guys. The shouting and pumping ourselves up.
“Careful now, Billy. That’s a pretty big word,” Adam Bates says as he pats the kid’s helmet with his hand.
That’s surprising. Adam doesn’t usually joke around, but I think we’re all on a high.
Billy flips him off, and Zachary, who’s usually pretty quiet nudges Adam. “Don’t pick on Billy. You don’t want to scare him off.”
Zachary and Billy are cousins, so I guess it makes sense why Adam is teasing him. I swear to God, everyone in this town is related.
I catch Jameson’s eyes as he finishes getting dressed, and I see the whimsical reminiscing there too. I know he’s going to miss this. I can’t believe we’re already done with football season. Soon it’ll be winter break, and then we’ll be starting our last semester of high school.
Fucking crazy, how fast it goes.
We head out onto the field after that, and the game is a whirlwind. It goes by way too fast, and to be honest, it’s way too easy to beat their ass. I kind of wanted a challenge, but it’s fine.
Now we’re out at the party at Oakley’s. The bonfire is going. The entire school is here, it seems like. Everyone is on a high, but I can’t stop thinking about how it’s almost over. I don’t even have a plan for after high school.
But plan or not, it’s happening.
“What the hell are you looking so sappy for?” Oakley asks, slinging his arm over my shoulder as he sits next to me by the fire.
“I’m not sappy.”
“Bullshit,” he jokes, nudging me and handing me a beer. I take it, but I don’t drink it. I see Jameson hanging out with Adam—who actually came to a damn party for once, along with Zach. I wonder if Travis will be here. I heard him talking about studying tonight.
What the fuck? Who does that? Who studies on a Friday night after a game? He’s kind of a wasted football talent. It’s a shame.
“Seriously. What’s going on with you?” Oakley’s voice pulls my attention away from thoughts about Travis and Jameson, and I turn to look at him, shrugging.
I can’t tell my best friend about anything on my mind these days. We’ve been friends for so damn long, but I can’t tell him I’m gay. I know better. Oakley is a good guy, I know that, but I don’t know how he’d take that news.
He’s totally straight, always trying to get laid. Always has girls hanging all over him. There’s no way he’d understand.
“Nothing is going on with me.”
“You haven’t been around much. And now you look all sad and mopey.”
“I’m not sad or mopey,” I say, and I’m really not. I’m going to miss high school, that’s for sure, but there’s a part of me that’s pretty excited about the idea of maybe getting out of Kensley. Even just for a little bit.
“Okay, whatever you say,” he says with a laugh as he rumples my hair, and I push him off me, both of us laughing.
My eyes keep traveling to Bates all night, though, silently willing him not to drink too much because I have plans for him later. I mean, he got away with not fucking me in the truck, but we’re definitely doing this.
And as soon as Oakley is preoccupied with Jules, Bates and I sneak out and head back to my house.
We do the usual. I go inside, lock my door and let him in through the window.
And in no time at all, we’re both totally naked and on my bed, and I have a condom and bottle of lube out from my stash near my bed.
“You know you don’t have to do this,” he says against my mouth. “It’s not a race.”
“You’re a dick,” I say with a smirk, kissing him hard because he knows if it was, he already won. “Which really irks my competitive spirit.”
He laughs as I push him onto his back and straddle him. “Save the best for last, I say.”
I stroke his cock with my hand and let the nerves wash over me, welcoming them. Because with nerves comes the adrenaline I thrive on. He slides his hand over my bare chest and stomach, looking up at me with awe. “You really don’t though. You can fuck me.”
“Not a chance,” I say, leaning down and biting his pec, making him hiss and shove me away.
“Dick.”
“Yes, please,” I joke, and he rolls his eyes with that ever-present smile he wears now.
He tries to roll us, but I have more muscle on him and pin his shoulders with my hands. “I have to prep you.”
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head and keeping him pinned to the bed. “I’m going to do that. You’re going to watch the show.”
He groans low and deep in his throat, and I grin. I may have been playing with my ass a lot lately on the nights we haven’t been together, getting ready for this moment. I need him desperately. More than I want to admit, and I don’t want a lot of prep.
I don’t want a lot of time.
I just want him.
So, after grabbing the lube and drizzling some on my fingers, I plant one hand on his chest, holding him in place before reaching behind me and stretch myself out. One finger, then two. Then three. He watches me with hooded eyes, his cock hard and leaking at the tip.
He’s still calm and collected. Totally in control. He doesn’t say a word as I remove my fingers and then sheathe him with the condom, moving so his cockhead is at my hole. And when the tip slips inside me, I think we both stop breathing at first.
But then I’m moving, and he’s holding onto my hips as I ride him, taking him all the way inside, letting him stretch my body. It’s a surreal feeling.
Jameson Bates is inside me, and it’s better than I could’ve ever imagined.
Neither of us lasts very long, but it’s fucking perfect when we come, his hand stroking my cock as his jerks inside me. And then we just lie on the bed together, both of us flat on our backs.
Neither of us saying a damn word because we don’t need to.
That was one hell of a celebration of the last football game we’ll ever play.