Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
I take my seat beside Austin in class, even though my heart is still pounding from that confrontation. I don’t want him to see how much he rattled me. But holy fuck!
I must have really gotten to him to squeeze a reaction like that out of ‘three years in a row winner of the award for exemplary sportsmanship.’ I didn’t realize someone with the future Austin has laid out in front of him could be so insecure about his position on the team. I don’t even care what position I play, and I sure as fuck don’t want to be the captain. No thanks. I just want to play. I don’t even need to be in the first line. But if that’s where Coach wants to put me, then I’m not about to argue. Hayes played like shit in the last game, this is the NCAA - last whistle stop before the pro leagues. Hayes will just have to learn to deal with it. If he wants his spot back, then he’ll have to fight me for it.
Austin is quiet in class. I sneak a glance in his direction and catch him bouncing his pen over an empty page in his notebook. He doesn’t even look like he’s listening to the professor.
I watch his hand wrapped around the pen. Think about how it felt pressing me against that wall. The warmth of his skin through my sweater. His minty breath in my face. Fuck . I thought it would be fun pissing him off, but it kind of sucks that he hates my guts.
As soon as the professor lets us go, Austin shoots up and is out of the room before anyone has a chance to stop him. I don’t even consider following to annoy him this time. I think I’ve already done enough.
Our next practise session is rough. Coach has us running through the same drills. This time, when he teams me up with Donoghue and Gray, we all know it’s not just to mix things up in practise. This is the new first line. At least for the Harvard game.
I can feel Hayes shooting me death stares. He has a couple of the other guys doing it too. Either Coach doesn’t notice - which I doubt - or he’s leaving it up to his captain to sort out before he’s forced to step in.
I try not to let it bother me. I’ve had worse. Boarding school wasn’t exactly a breeze. And I’ve had people talking about me behind by back for way worse than stealing someone’s spot on the first line.
Captain is a pro through the drills of course. And we start to gel as linemates. Gray following his lead.
When Coach tells us to pair up for some face-off practise, I think Captain is going to blow me off to team up with his buddy. I start skating away, ready to be the last kid picked – the one who Coach has to team up with because they don’t have any friends. But there’s a tug on my jersey and I look up to find Captain pulling me back.
“You’re with me,” he practically growls.
Holy fuck, is he going to hit me right in front of everyone? Including Coach? When I started messing with him, I didn’t mean to send the guy crazy.
“I need you to show me how to win a face-off.”
Oh. I have a hard time hiding my grin. It’s like it exists on it’s own automatic setting.
“Don’t look so smug,” he says.
We get into position, Gray acting as ref with the puck, ready to drop it at the whistle.
“Charge me,” I say.
Captain looks up, our eyes meeting for the split second before the puck drops.
He’s fast. NHL fast. The weight of his body charging into me before I can think. He knocks the wind right out of me and it’s hard to catch my breath as he steals away with the puck.
There are cheers and whoops from some of the team. Gray fails to hide his grin. My stomach sinks, but it was the right move. This obviously means more to him than it does to me.
He skates back into place, his chest heaving. A sober look on his face.
As soon as we’ve showered and changed, I’m out of there. I’ve got four more of those practices before the Harvard game and I’m going to have to get Austin out of my head before that.
I unlock my phone to download the app again. It’s been a while, but I’m sure I won’t have too much trouble finding a last minute hook-up. Isn’t that what it’s for?
I ignore a voicemail from my sister as I log into my old profile, swiping through a few pictures before I find one that isn’t too bad. We match and start chatting. Making it clear we’re both just looking for a bit of no-strings fun.
He asks if I want to video chat, but I convince him to meet me somewhere. I’d rather do this in person. No phones. No cameras.
He agrees to come to my apartment and I tidy up a little before he arrives. Stuffing my Yale shorts and sweater under the bed. I change into a plain white tee and a pair of black running shorts and wait for the buzzer.
I’m horny as fuck and I still can’t get Austin out of my head. Rubbing my cock through my shorts until my hook-up arrives.
He looks down at the bulge approvingly before I invite him in, kissing me roughly just inside the door. Grabbing me through my shorts and grinding his hard-on against the back of his hand. His stubble scratches against my chin and he tastes like the burrito he must have eaten before he came over.
Images of my moody captain pressing me against a wall pops in and I force it out again. When this guy - whose name I've already forgotten - takes his shirt off, I force myself to focus on that instead. The arms full of tattoos. The muscles that are surely just for show.
He kisses me again, this time guiding me down onto my knees and opening his pants. He rubs the head of his cock across my lips and I swallow it deep, making him groan. He grips my hair, tight, fucking my mouth until my eyes water. I rub myself through my shorts, but I’m somehow losing my erection. This can’t be happening.
I pull off his dick with some effort, his hand gripping my hair so tight it starts to hurt.
I walk backwards, sliding my shorts down.
“Want to fuck me or what?”
He growls a response, following me as he kicks his pants from around his ankles. I open the bedside drawer and throw him a condom, watch as he opens it and rolls it onto his hard cock. My own erection starts to come back as I open the lube and stroke myself as I watch him. Sliding my fingers between my legs before getting onto all fours.
He sidles in behind, slapping my ass and grunting as he rubs the head of his cock against my hole. I moan as he edges inside, images of Captain in that ESPN highlight flooding to the forefront. Austin’s sexy flushed face after practise. His fucked-up hair when he takes off his helmet.
This guy grips my hips and starts fucking me, hard and fast, my breath hitching with every thrust. He slams into me, nearly knocking me off balance.
“Do it,” I say. Make me forgot my own name.
As he pounds into me, I let my mind wander. Austin charging me in practise. The smell of Nivea for Men on his skin.
“Fuck yeah, you like that? Want it harder?”
I whine something incoherent as he pounds his cock against my prostate and I start to see stars.
The second it’s over, the release is gone and the thoughts are back. I take a shower and hope he’ll be gone by the time I get out.