23. TIM
Chapter twenty-three
TIM
“You’ll have to tell me what to do with this one,” I breathe as he coats one end of the dildo in lube. I only noticed now that the middle has a raised ring. I guess that will help make sure it’s not too far in on one side.
“Don’t worry, I looked it up.”
“You did? Where?”
“On a few blogs, and then I watched a few clips on Red X Men.”
“The porn site.”
He shrugs. “I wanted to make sure I could use it properly. Don’t worry, it was purely educational.”
“Sure they were.”
“Are you ready?” he asks, and I nod.
“Okay, I’ll start with you, then we can work it into me, too. Prop yourself up a tiny bit on the pillow, you’ll want to be able to see me. Oh, and toss me a pillow for down here.”
My heart is racing, my cock is hard, and my ass is open and waiting for this, for him. I maneuver myself back a little on the bed and rest against the pillow, and pull my knees up to give him better access.
His gaze is locked on my ass as he coats the opening in more lube, then squeezes even more on the end of the dildo again. There is no such thing as too much lube, especially when it comes to playing with toys.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I say, and he squeezes my thigh in one hand and pushes the end of the dildo against me. It stings a little, but only for a second, and then, as I breathe through it, my body opens and draws it inside. He moves slowly, edging it in an inch, then twisting it or withdrawing slightly, sending ripples of pleasure through me. I lift my hips a little, coaxing him deeper.
He starts to move it in and out a little faster, my ass stretching, welcoming the pressure it brings, and when he hits that perfect spot deep inside, I suck in a breath and cry out.
“Fuck, yeah, okay, umm, time for you. How do we…?”
“I got this,” he says, and he releases the dildo with it still half buried inside me. The weight of the other end bending toward the bed sends a shiver through me, and I grip the bedcovers to try to maintain control. Lion maneuvers himself to sit in front of me, spreads his legs and inches his ass closer. He props himself up on one hand and reaches between his legs.
“I better make room,” he says, and then, all the while holding eye contact, he pulls a stretching plug from between us and tosses it to the side.
“I wish I could have done that,” I tell him, and he winks.
“Next time, I promise.”
He squeezes lube down to coat himself and the other end and then lifts back up the dildo. I immediately jolt.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, keep going. Tell me if I can do anything.”
“I’ll need your help soon, but first I’ll get the tip in.”
I reach forward and give myself a slow stroke, pulling his gaze from between us to my cock.
“I can’t wait to jerk off together while this thing fucks us both.”
“Me, too.”
His eyes flutter, and I know he’s working it in, the pressure of the dildo bending and trying to move deeper inside me grows.
“Okay, umm, lift your hips and come closer to me a little, but slow,” he says, and I let go of my cock and dig my elbows into the bed to lift my ass. It’s an amazing view, watching him edge closer, the toy burying deeper as I move.
I pull back a little and then move forward again, faster, and he bites his lower lip.
“Fuck, yeah, please do that again?” he asks, and I shift to push up with my hands, this time giving me better control of my hips and a better view of what is happening between us.
“You mean… this,” I say, pulling back and thrusting my ass forward deeper and harder than before. My end hits that spot inside me and lightning surges to my balls.
“Fuck, okay, that’s good.”
“Okay, I’m… in,” he breathes, pulling his hand free from between us as his ass cheeks rest against each other. “Put your feet on my thighs,” he says, and he spreads his knees wide. “Okay, now you have control, push against my thighs to separate us, then relax to bring us back together. Unless you want me to do that part?” he asks, hungry stare locked on mine.
“I got this,” I say, and then I test what he said to do, starting small. It’s intense, the dildo is so slick it wants to move out of me, but it will want to move out of him, too, and as I release, it’s pushed deep inside us both again.
Lion moans, and I reach down and grab my cock.
“Grab that thick cock and start slow. I don’t want this to end just yet, but fuck, it’s sexy watching you touch yourself while I fuck you.”
“Yes, boss.”
He wraps his fingers around himself and strokes slowly, and I push back again, only this time, I let our asses smack back together.
“Holy shit,” he cries, and I do it again. My grip on my cock tightens as I work us out and back in, faster and harder, over and over. His strokes pick up, but so do mine, both of us lost in the rolling pleasure that surrounds us.
“I can’t hold on… much… longer,” he groans. And I start practically bouncing us together, working our cocks in ragged strokes until he explodes, arching his back and sending ribbons of come all over us both. I’m only a thrust behind him, and I lift my hips, burying the dildo as deep as I can as the pulses of ecstasy overtake me.
Nothing could have prepared me for what that would be like, and now that I’ve done it, I can’t wait to do it again. I wonder how many other positions there are that we can try with this.
After separating us, we lie on the bed, Lion curled up against my chest.
“You’re so perfect,” he says, circling the hair on my chest with one finger.
“I’m not,” I reply, and he tilts his head to look up at me.
“When I say you’re perfect, I don’t mean you don’t have faults. I just mean that I adore everything about you, faults and all.”
I lean down and kiss him and then lie back, brushing my fingers through his hair until he falls asleep.
***
I wake with Lion’s head against my chest, his arm over my stomach. He’s curled up beside me almost like a cat, cuddling my side, and it’s the best. Yesterday was intense, all of it. From the media, to the game, to the incredible sex last night, and I think it’s probably a good thing the Funky Monkeys don’t play today because I’m aching in a good way all over. Too bad I still have to go. I’d rather spend the entire day in bed with Lion, but when we don’t play, we’re still just as busy at the game, dancing and interacting with the crowd, and just generally helping to keep the buzz going.
“What time is it?” Lion asks, his breath tickling the light hairs on my chest.
“A little after eight,” I reply, and he tilts his head back to look up at me.
“I have to get up. I have a Bunnies task to get to.” He groans, snuggling in tighter. “But you’re so cuddly in the morning. Urgh, why did I make that booking? Can we do this again?”
“Anytime you want.”
He kisses my chest, then peers up at me, grinning ear to ear.
“How about tonight, after the game between AC and the OG’s? Maybe we can try the shower again, but at your place, it’s much bigger. I mean… if you want to.”
I skim my fingers up his back, tracing the curve of his muscles.
“Oh, trust me, I want to.”
“Good, okay. As much as I hate to say it, I do have to go. Stay as long as you like, and help yourself to anything in the fridge. This task is supposed to be for a few hours, so I might not get back here before the game.”
“Okay, umm, what about the boys? Do they need anything?” I heard one of them meowing at the door a few times last night. I’m guessing they normally get to be in here with him at night, cuddled in at his side, or at his feet. The mental image of Lion sleeping with the four cats curled around him brings a smile to my lips.
“I’ll feed them before I go, just leave the window open in the living room. Daffin will have a fit if he can’t go visiting.”
“Noted. See you at the game.”
“See you there,” he says, and he slips out of the room, closing the door behind him. I lie back, listening to him talk to his cats, wishing them a good morning and scolding one of them who apparently was too impatient with their food. It’s sweet hearing him with them. I imagine it would be what he’d be like with children. I don’t know if that is the future I want for myself, kids, I mean. I never thought about being a dad. I have baseball and my food truck dream and both would have me traveling way more than what would benefit a child. I wonder what Lion wants. I grab my phone from the side table and check my messages, not surprised to find a few waiting for me in the group chat.
DUCKIE: Hey, Tim. I stopped by your place this morning, but you weren’t there. Did he go all Kathy Bates on you, or did you have a better time than James Caan tied to a bed?
RYAN: Are we still on this Misery thing? I thought it was cleared up? Lion isn’t a crazed fan.
PAT: Who’s being tied to a bed now?
DUCKIE: Tim was tied to Lion’s bed last night.
RYAN: Not that we should be talking about this at all, but how do you know Lion wasn’t the one tied down?
DUCKIE: No way a guy that looks like that isn’t all Mr. Control in the bedroom.
PAT: You never know. Chloe surprised me a few times in that department. I’m not going to go into details because I’m a gentleman.
DUCKIE: Who invited the gentleman into this chat?
I shake my head and laugh because really, there is nothing else to do at their ridiculousness, then type my reply.
TIM: I stayed at Lion’s place, if that is what you are asking. No one was tied to anything.
DUCKIE: No fun.
***
It took about a week for the media to drop the stalking story, which is pretty quick considering they are usually like a dog with a bone. I guess once they knew the league was behind us, it really lost its buzz.
The public is another story altogether. I guess you would say the fan response is mixed. A fair chunk of the fans don’t give a shit about any of it and only comment on my trick plays, my batting game or my performance, but then there are the ones that do care. Unfortunately, like with most things, the negative voices seem to scream the loudest online.
It’s even worse that in most cases Lion cops the brunt of it, and it’s crushing seeing hurtful things posted about him on my page. I almost replied to an asshole’s comment yesterday, but I knew that would only spur them on. I blocked the guy who posted it instead. But having to go through and read all these things to look for the hurtful shit to delete it has taken me back to a dark place I left behind so many months ago. Or I thought I had. Lion might not have done the right thing creating all those profiles, but it saturated my feed with positive messages, and at a time when I was totally obsessed with people liking me, thinking I was good enough to be on this team, in this tour, I really needed that. Now, it’s worse than that because the guy who just wanted me to feel amazing is copping hateful messages of his own.
I read through the comments on the article Ian wrote about the whole thing. He ran it by me first, which was nice, he didn’t have to, but he said he wanted to be sure he didn’t get anything wrong.
“Who wouldn’t want a love like this? “ one user writes. They get it. They see how amazing it is to have someone in your corner, someone cheering for you. That’s what everyone needs in a partner. I scroll to the next one.
“ Who cares how they met, they are my new favorite sports couple.” That’s cute. I’ll have to show that one to Ryan and Alan. I laugh to myself, then stop when I see the next message.
“Tim is the one who needs help if he thinks this is what love really looks like,” someone has written and then below it, “ Lion, ha, more like leech. He’s just trying to get his fifteen minutes of fame. Bet he’ll come out with a protein powder or health supplement next.”
Fucking jerks. I close the app and message Lion.
TIM: Hey, I’m really sorry about all the online stuff. It’s totally cool if you want to skip this week’s games and just stay in Savannah.
My phone rings and on the screen is the picture I took of Lion and his cats playing on the floor of his apartment.
“Are you okay?” he asks the moment I answer, and just hearing his voice takes away a little of the darkness reading the messages online enveloped me in.
“I’m so sorry people are being such dicks online,” I say, and he laughs.
“Whose dick is online?”
“No, that people are being dicks. Jerks. Assholes. I was just going through some of the comments and… well, I’m just really sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I haven’t been looking at the comments. Enzo told me not to.”
“Enzo told you? When did he tell you that?”
“This morning at the gym.”
“You went to the gym with Enzo?”
“Enzo came to the gym with me, Levi and Beau. It was great having a fourth in the session. Oh, I can go back to the cafe next week, too. I saw a photo of Mary Beth’s cake display on her socials the other day, she really needs me back. That girl can’t arrange a display to save her life. She does make the best coffee, though.”
“You’re able to go on social media and you just ignore the comments?”
“I don’t click into them. Can you see them without clicking? Is that a setting people can switch on and off?”
“No, I click them.”
“You know that you don’t have to, right?”
“I know, but I want to read the good ones. Some people are so sweet. This one person said we are their new favorite sports couple.”
“Aww, that is cute, but I don’t play sports.”
“It is cute, and it’s why I want to be able to read the comments.”
“But you know some will not be cute.”
“Yes. But they should be.”
“Why?”
“Why should people not be assholes?”
“No, why do all the things people say have to be cute?”
I don’t have an answer for that other than because I said so, and seeing as I hated whenever my mother used to say that to me whenever I questioned her, I am not going to use it now. He’s right, people can post whatever they want on an open social platform. That’s the point of it. Free speech and all that jazz.
“I guess they don’t have to be. But you have to admit, it would be nice. What are you up to? I was going to see if you wanted to come to game night tomorrow night at my place with the guys?”
“I’m at a Bunnies task helping pack up some things for the woman who lives here. Her husband passed away, and she’s ready to clear out what she calls his collection of crap . I don’t think she really views it that way, though, because we go through it all, everything she hands me has a story, a connection to their life together. They were married for sixty-nine years. Can you imagine?”
“Wow, that has to be rough being with someone that long only to lose them.”
“Yeah, but better than never having that time with them at all.”
He’s right, and it’s totally like Lion to see it that way, too. To see the positive, the joy in something so sad. Here I am wallowing in the mud of a few random people’s opinions and he’s out in the world helping people go through real shit.
“I’m glad you can help her out. Do you want to maybe grab dinner after? I was thinking we order in from Riverside Barbeque.”
“Your place or mine?”
“I’ve kept you away from the boys enough this week, so let’s go with your place. Besides, I want to see what else you have in that treasure box of yours.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“See you tonight.”