Chapter 5 #2
Trevor let out a little aborted groan at that, too. Like even though Lane had barely touched him yet, he was already being pulled apart at the seams.
He went in for another taste, this time sliding most of Trevor’s length right into his mouth, and a second later, Lane felt the gentle touch of his hand in his hair.
It was so much hotter than it had any right to be—and it was already plenty fucking hot.
Every time Lane did something Trevor liked, and he liked a lot, it turned out, Trevor’s fingers would tighten in Lane’s hair.
Like it was just a natural, instinctive reaction that Trevor couldn’t help, because it felt too good.
Lane had always liked sucking cock, but it had never, never, felt as mind-blowing as this.
Trevor was so responsive everything Lane did, every lick, every touch, every bit of suction seemed to unwind him, and Lane loved it.
Wanted to take more. Wanted to give more.
Too soon, Trevor’s fingers wound through his hair and tugged even harder.
Lane’s own cock twitched in his briefs, and he didn’t know if it was Trevor’s clear pleasure or the little bite of pain that turned him on more.
It didn’t matter. He only knew he wanted to give him more.
Wanted Trevor to lose it and send Lane right over the edge with him.
Lane pulled off, breathless. From having Trevor nudged up to his throat or because it was Trevor, or because it was both?
“Close,” Trevor panted. He looked down and their eyes caught and Trevor groaned again.
“Good,” Lane murmured. “I want you to come.”
Trevor choked out a laugh.
“You want it in my mouth or on my face?” Lane asked, cock throbbing at both possibilities. Each good in their own way. He just wanted whatever Trevor wanted.
Trevor choked again. “Fuck, God, you can’t just—”
“Why not?” Lane slid his cock back into his mouth, relishing the way it twitched against his tongue. Trevor was close, and he needed him to fall over the edge.
“I can’t,” Trevor whined, and Lane felt his whole body tighten up, and he supposed that was the answer. Tasted the first spurt of his come and then swallowed as Trevor shuddered above him.
“Shit.” Trevor exhaled hard, and then it was like he went boneless, falling back onto the bed.
Lane wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave a groan of his own as he slid that hand into his briefs, palming his cock.
He was close, too, just from sucking Trevor off.
Trevor’s eyes blinked open slowly, and then he leaned up. “Kiss me,” Trevor demanded, and he’d never given an easier order to comply with. Lane yanked down his briefs and climbed onto Trevor, leaning in to kiss him lush and wet.
Trevor groaned as he tasted himself on Lane’s tongue, and Lane froze as his touch, still gentle and careful, not wanting to come just yet, was joined by another.
Hesitant, but that was Trevor’s hand, curling around his cock, drawing pleasure out of him as easy as breathing.
“Yes, God, please,” Lane begged against Trevor’s lips, and Trevor’s grip tightened up. It only took less than a minute for the orgasm to hit him, striping up Trevor’s chest.
Lane panted into their kiss. Then had to pull back, because he needed to see.
It was as good of a look as he’d expected. Trevor’s bare chest, still the faintest bit golden from his years in Arizona, covered in Lane.
“Hot,” Trevor murmured and then swiped a hand through it, lifting his fingers to suck it off.
Lane’s stomach went low and liquid. He’d just come his brains out, but he wasn’t sure he couldn’t go again, immediately. He knew he wanted to go again, immediately.
“Yeah,” Lane agreed, his voice full of gravel.
Trevor gave a happy sigh and patted the bed next to him. “Come here,” he said.
And since Trevor was in charge, Lane went, though who was he kidding? Even if Trevor hadn’t suggested it, he’d have been tempted to take it, anyway.
Trevor curled up against him, tucking his face into his bicep. “Is it always like that?” he asked so softly that Lane wondered if he’d misheard him.
Actually hoped that he had misheard.
He could tell the truth or give Trevor a well-intentioned little white lie. But would it be so little? It felt life-changing to Lane, but he didn’t think it would be to Trevor.
“Not usually, no,” Lane said, trying to downplay it as much as possible. No, it’s never like that. Hooked up with a hundred guys, easy, and I’ve never gotten close to the edge just tasting their come.
“Huh,” Trevor said thoughtfully, like he was both surprised and not, also. “I didn’t think so.”
Lane let himself lie there for another three minutes, counting it off in his head, one second at a time.
It didn’t feel like nearly long enough, Trevor’s drowsy breath against him, his body pressed against his own, legs tangled together, but it felt like an eternity at the same time.
The seconds ticked by and finally he got to one eighty.
Time to get up.
He made a movement, gently trying to dislodge Trevor, but Trevor’s fingers wound around his bicep, holding him close and tight. “No,” he said. “This is nice.”
Lane exhaled sharply, shakily. “We gotta clean up,” he argued, probably unsuccessfully.
Trevor made a doubtful noise in the back of his throat.
“Seriously,” Lane said. Then added, “What if I promise to come back?”
“Alright,” Trevor said and released him.
When he went to the bathroom, he didn’t turn the light on, but ran the water, making sure it was warm. Cleaning himself up and grabbing a washcloth so he could wipe Trevor down too.
Right before he went back in the bedroom, he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were full of a smug satisfaction, every line of his body clearly relaxed.
Remember this, he reminded himself, because there’s no saying how long you’re gonna get it.
When he got back to the bedroom, Trevor had flopped back onto the bed.
He held out his hand for the washcloth, and Lane didn’t want to, but he handed it over.
Trevor made quick work of the last of the mess and then patted the bed next to him.
“Come on, let’s take a nap before we head out. ” Paused. “Do you still want to go?”
What Lane wanted was to stay like this. To drowse on and off. To grab food. To come back to bed, crash into each other over and over. To wake up next to him.
But that was a lot. So much the strength of Lane’s desire for it surprised even him. There was no way he was going to say any of that out loud. Not to Trevor.
“Eh,” Lane said. “Kinda tired, if I’m being honest.”
Trevor smiled, luminous in the dim room, like he carried his own light source with him. “Me too. You just want to stay in tonight? You can help me more with my puzzle.”
Before this, Lane would’ve rather pulled out his own fingernails, but instead he smiled at Trevor and answered, so easily, “Sure.”
Trevor didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, rested and settled, he was surprised and also not, that Lane’s arm was curled around him.
However, Lane wasn’t asleep. He was propped up against the headboard, watching something on his iPad with the sound off.
Trevor shifted, trying to see the screen, and caught a second of the video before Lane looked over and reflexively shut it off.
“Hey,” he said, and moved his arm before Trevor could stop him again.
“I guess I fell asleep,” Trevor said, struggling to get his brain back online.
“Passed right out,” Lane agreed, sounding more fond and way less judgmental than Trevor might’ve expected.
“But not you?”
Lane just shrugged and set the tablet over on his bedside table. “Nah. I wasn’t that tired. Didn’t put the work in today, not like you.”
He’d brought it up, so Trevor stretched and then looked over at him. “You were watching film from the game.”
He watched as Lane opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He’d wanted to argue about it, clearly, but what Trevor didn’t understand was why.
Sure, he hadn’t handled the criticism very well mid-game, but he’d been open to coaching and commentary on plenty of other occasions.
Of course, it had also been a point of contention between them. Lane could be patronizing and an asshole about lots of things, things that Trevor didn’t even know. And if he didn’t know them, it was impossible to even realize how fucking clueless he was, right before he embarrassed himself.
“Yeah,” Lane finally said. “So?”
Trevor told himself to stay calm. To not care if Lane thought he’d fucked up, but that was a hard ask, because he did. Probably too much.
“Why?” Trevor asked hesitantly.
“Oh wait, you think I was watching your plays?” Lane shrugged. “I wasn’t.” And like he was proving it, he grabbed the iPad and, after unlocking it, handed it to Trevor.
Trevor sat up more in bed, suddenly and uncomfortably aware that he was still naked.
But then, Lane was too. Unabashedly, lounging in bed with not a stitch on. Frankly, Trevor couldn’t blame the guy, because if he looked that good, he might never wear clothes, either.
It would look weird if he went for clothes now. Besides, maybe Trevor didn’t look that good, good enough that he’d be interested in a second round, but he still looked pretty dang good.
Instead, he looked at the video that Lane had been watching, and immediately got sucked in. It was a play from the middle of the third quarter, a running play actually, where Trevor had blocked.
Trevor rewound to the beginning and realized that Lane had actually been making notations on the screen, little marks and arrows, indicating blocking patterns.
This was definitely not something that Trevor realized he did, and not something that even fell into Lane’s purview.
He was a tight end, and he did block, sure, but he was hardly sitting in on offensive play calling meetings, with Aidan and the offensive coordinator, Zane, figuring out what had worked and what hadn’t, and what they could tweak to work better.