The Roster (Devin Setoguchi/Ryane Clowe; Devin/Torrey Michell)
Title: The Roster (2/??)
Author: sherlockelly
Pairing: Devin Setoguchi/Ryane Clowe; Devin/Torrey Mitchell
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Real people, fake story.
Summary: Devin has a little bet going with himself, when it backfires a bit he looks to Torrey for help.
Author's Note: I'm not a big fan of stuff where the whole team is gay for each other, but... on the other hand... Devin's got himself some pretty big dreams okay? I'm not gonna dash them before he gets to realize them.
Edited by: revuko. Thanks for the ass-kicking!
Other Parts: one
“Hey there bud!” Torrey was greeted warmly as entered his apartment after physical therapy. Devin was sitting on the sofa in the living room, strumming his guitar. Exactly where he’d been when Torrey left two hours earlier. He smiled at the thought.
No Jamie there, feet up on the table, drinking all of the beer Torrey had bought. No loud music or violent video games that “didn’t allow three players.” Just Devin, wearing nothing but sweatpants as he played a few random chords and smiled warmly at him.
“Hey. You been there the whole time?” Torrey dropped his equipment and joined Devin on the couch, leaning down to kiss him as he did.
“Yeah. I was gonna make dinner, but then Clowie called and asked if we wanted to go with him to Cheesecake Factory tonight.”
“He paying?” Torrey looked at Devin skeptically.
“Doesn’t he always? ‘Sides, he invited us so he ought to.”
“When are we meeting up with him? I should change,” he pawed at the worn denim covering his legs.
“Why, what’s wrong with that?” Devin stopped strumming the guitar and swiped out a hand to hook a finger in a growing hole at the thigh of Torrey’s jeans.
“Not really that fancy or anything are they?”
“Fancy? Torrey, it’s the fuckin’ Cheesecake Factory. And Clowie.”
Torrey looked away from Devin’s dubious glare. He really didn’t want to go into this right now, but Devin it seemed never had a sense of when a conversation was appropriate.
“Were you going to go in that?” Torrey cocked his hip to the side in an attempt to divert the discussion. He indicated Devin’s shabby grey sweats and brushed a finger across his bare shoulder.
“I’m in pajamas, not clothes. And don’t skirt the subject,” Torrey groaned as Devin expertly read his mind, the way he was always apt to do. “No, I’m serious! Why do you have to change?”
“Why does it matter?” Torrey tried to pray away the flush he could feel rising in his cheeks.
“You gotta thing for Clowie I should know about?” The teasing lilt in Devin’s voice alerted him to the fact that he’d been found out, but he vowed to keep up with his appearances.
“No! Come on Dev.”
“I don’t care if you do, Torrey. You two would be really fucking hot together. I might be able to get him to go for it if you want.”
“What?! Christ, Devin! No! I don’t--,” Devin began strumming on his guitar.
“Ryane and Torrey, sitting in a tree.”
“Oh, come on, are you five?!”
"F-U-C-K-I-N--hey!" Torrey gave Devin’s head a playful shove before marching off to his room to change. There was no point in denying it and no point in admitting it, so Torrey did neither.
He’d had a small crush on Clowie since day one when he caught him changing out of the corner of his eye. Something about the way he looked, hard and smooth and all muscle. He was a solid body, the kind of build Torrey had always admired and wanted for himself. Until he was bold enough one day to admit to himself that it wasn’t about envy at all and really he just wanted.
It wasn’t anything worth talking about though; he hadn’t thought much about it once Devin moved in with him and starting playing the tease day in and day out. The first real reminder of it he’d had since then was when Devin had listed Ryane off as one of the guys he’d hooked up with. And that he’d mentioned that was catalyst for the rest of the list, he had to admit he was interested.
Torrey shimmied out of his torn jeans and pulled a darker pair from the drawer. He knew it wasn’t a cause for formal attire, but a juvenile part of him still wanted to look good around Clowie, still wanted him to see Torrey as at least something to be desired. Especially now that he knew that Ryane would, at least under Devin’s conviction, be into that sort of thing.
A pair of warm palms was suddenly cupping his ass through his boxer briefs and Torrey jumped in surprise.
“Want me to tell you about ‘im?” Devin cooed in his ear.
“Holy hell, Dev! Scare the shit out of me why don’t you!” He did. He wanted Devin to tell him everything down to what Ryane smelled like when he came.
“Want me to or not? We got about ten minutes before we should leave. Unless you want all the details,” Torrey shivered as Devin practically purred his words. “Might take a little bit longer then.”
Devin’s hands crept around Torrey’s sides, his fingers sliding deftly under the waistband of Torrey’s underwear, allowing his thumbs to brush along the base of Torrey’s hardening length.
“Details,” Torrey sighed heavily as Devin continued to tease him.
“Yeah?” Devin sunk his teeth into the back of Torrey’s neck and Torrey could feel him semi-hard against his lower back as his arched with the feeling.
“I wanna know what it was like.”
He grumbled when Devin pulled back and flopped himself down on Torrey’s bed, leaning on his hands. His head lolled to his shoulder and he leered as Torrey reluctantly got redressed.
When he finally slipped the clean shirt over his head, Devin began.
“So we’d gone out that night, with a few of the guys, just to some dance club. It was early in the season so we weren’t too exhausted after each game; just the excitement of playing again was enough to keep everybody up. I think we were in Florida. It was such a hot night and we had finished a weekend of back to back games.
“I think it was Saturday night, a perfect night to go out. I remember Clowie and I had both scored and we were all looking to celebrate. He showed up and had already had a few drinks in his room. He looked amazing that night. Really tight jeans, tight shirt. It was white too, so you could almost see his skin right through it. He was still so tan from the summer. And the way the club was lit each of this muscles were just so visible.”
Torrey draped himself next to Devin and closed his eyes, picturing Ryane in formfitting white shirt, muscles tanned and outlined through the thin fabric. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“That natural high of scoring just seemed to be compounding everything. I wanted to touch him so badly, just feel that ripple, you know how muscles get? Especially after a game. That quiver when you’re really working them?”
Devin’s fingers danced up the length of Torrey’s healing leg, and Torrey bit back a sob. The therapy left him with those trembles daily and under the soft prodding of Devin’s fingers, he could feel the strain give way, the little shivers just beginning in the strengthening muscles of his knee.
“It was still early enough in the season we were all getting those at the end of the game. Like flutters under the skin. God, I wanted to feel that on him, but I knew he wouldn’t let me just reach out and touch. So I had to improvise.
“I spent a lot of the night dancing next to him. We weren’t exactly pressed for partners, quite a few women were looking at him like they really wanted him, and I had to keep making sure that none of them were between us. It wasn’t hard to fake bumping into him the way the crowd moved in. I’d start with my back against his, his ass brushing against mine. Then turn a bit so our sides were grazing.
“It was hot in the club, we were all starting to sweat and that lingering equipment smell was in our skin. That plasticky smell mixed with the glove disinfectant and hotel soap. The smell of hockey, yeah? This was still early in the year and I’d fucking missed that smell, would’ve been turned on just by that alone, but the combination of knowing it was him, the fact that he was sweating enough his shirt was seemingly getting thinner and thinner. I mean, you could see right through it at this point.
“The more I had to drink the more risks I was taking, really. I let my hands brush against his ass, I grabbed him a few times, pretending I was mistaking him for one of the girls. One of ‘em caught on I think and was pushing me back into him. She’d got me turned around so she was behind me, kinda gliding her hands up my stomach under my shirt and pushing her hips into me until I was right up against him, his back to my front. And really it was an accident that I’d grabbed him, I thought I was going to fall. But my hands were on his hips and she was still pushing me into him, and I was hard as I could have been then, considering I’d had a bit to drink at the bar.”
“Did he notice?” Torrey leaned on his hand, supported by his elbow and watched as Devin chewed his lip, contemplating the story and trying to piece back together the memories now clouded by alcohol and tiredness and dehydration and arousal.
“Are you kidding? He turned around fast as fuck and grabbed me by the shoulders pushing me back from him. I should probably mention that I was… well, a lot drunker than I’ve been telling. I mean, I didn’t set out to hook up with him, but after three or four shots, I really didn’t want anything else. And we hadn’t had anything else to drink but Jack at the bar and I’d had a beer or two in my room. I’d sweat a good five pounds since we got there it was so hot, and was feeling super lightheaded. Especially after playing early that night. And then watching him spin like that got me pretty dizzy, I remember I grabbed him around the neck to stop the whole place from spinning.
“I fell into him again and he was pushed up against my thigh. I didn’t notice he was hard until I felt him flex against me. Christ, I got sober fast after that but he was having none of it and pulled me out of the crowd. He bought a bottle of water at the bar, keeping a really tight grip on my wrist the whole time, like I was going to run away.
“Next thing I know we’re outside and he’s hailing a cab, forcing me to drink the water. Then suddenly we were sitting in the back of a taxi and I was leaning up against him. He wasn’t pushing me away that time. Just letting me lean up against him, my head on his shoulder. I was still grabbing at his leg, keeping things from spinning, but once I got some of that water in me, I was better. Like night and day, actually.
“He was letting me rub against him, practically. My legs were bouncing against his and I could see his hands in his lap, folded up together and twitching almost. I handed him the water when I was done and I watched him drink it. Blatantly. Each little swallow of his mouth, his throat bobbing. Christ I was so hard, not trying to hide it or anything. My hand started flexing into his leg while I watched him and he could see me out of the corner of his eyes, but closed them to shut me out.
“When we got back to the hotel, he paid for the cab and took me upstairs, but he led me right past his door, and he’d had his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me into him, even though I could walk just fine. I was trying to get away from him, you know, didn’t need any help, didn’t want him to think I did, but the first thing I grabbed when I reached out was his back pocket, brushing against his ass. God damn, he’s got a beautiful ass, each step and I could feel it flexing.”
“W-we should probably leave now,” Torrey shakily swung a leg to the floor and rose to his feet, offering a hand to Devin. His mind was spinning with images of Ryane, walking Devin back to his room, and then deciding on something else. He wanted to be in that situation, the dangerous feeling of the unknown.
“Oh, yeah. Shit, almost forgot I was hungry,” Devin laughed a deep laugh and allowed Torrey to pull him up, crashing into him when he was upright and grazing his erection against Torrey’s thigh as he moved to pass him. “Almost.”
They walked to the car after Devin changed into real clothing, Torrey, having watched him from the doorway of his bedroom, was stiffly trying to keep his own erection from rubbing against his inseam.
Devin started the car and watched as the other moved back the passenger seat, allowing his legs to stretch out in front of him and alleviate the squeeze of his pants. He was beginning to curse himself for changing, the original torn pair providing much more room in the crotch.
“He told me to open the door to my own room and I figured he was going to make sure I made it into bed alright, but once I was in the room, he followed, closing the door behind him and then he was right there. Had me slammed me up against the wall, with his hand on my chest,” Devin continued eagerly and Torrey groaned, the rush of blood renewing the tightness of his dick.
“And he pinned me there, just the bridge of his knuckles digging into my chest. His face was only a few centimeters from mine and I could hear him growling under his breath. He stared at me for a good two minutes just panting in this animal way. I could tell he was turned on, the way he was looking at me like that, his eyes half closed. You know that look of his.”
Torrey did know that look. Ryane got it every time he scored a goal. It gave him shivers when he went over to hug him in celebration and there he was, looking predatory and eager. It was tantalizing to know that under all that equipment he was hard as hell. He hated to admit that that exhilaration was one of the things he missed the most that season, Ryane’s inability to separate sexual and emotional excitement. He bit his lip as he remembered.
“You definitely gotta thing for him, don’t you?” Devin laughed as he noticed Torrey’s jaw clench.
“S’the story, is all,” Torrey lied, and he knew Devin could read him.
“Fuck Torrey, I don’t care if you do! I mean, obviously I did as well, right?”
Torrey shrugged his shoulders.
“Anyway, he was in my face, breathing hard. The sweat had dried on us and everything was itchy where he was touching me. But then he pushed me again, harder into the wall and snarled almost, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
“I didn’t know what he meant, really. I mean, he was the one pinning to me the wall, standing close enough that I could feel the brush of his crotch, but not close enough for me to tell if he was hard or not. So I didn’t say anything, I just stared at him.
“‘Don’t you fucking start anything that you aren’t prepared to finish, boy.’ Boy! I’m almost embarrassed to even tell you how hard that made me, hearing him say that. Like he owned me. I remember that it made me thrust forward into his thigh and he grunted and pulled himself back, away from me.
“Of course, I saw the only option I had as play dumb, so I said ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ And before I could even finish the words, he grabbed my wrist hard and forced my hand to cup his crotch.”
“Shit,” Torrey bit his lip and shifted in the car seat. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to ask to hear this story while they were on their way out.
“He was hard as shit, too. Not just a little bit, either, fucking full-on hard and Christ, I didn’t really know what I was planning for that night, but once I felt him like that, I knew I was going to take this as far as I could. So I let him force my hand a little bit, feel him. He was grinding against me just a bit and I was only sort of moving my fingertips. But once he realized I wasn’t pulling away, he gave me this look, kind of like a ‘how dare you make me want this’ kind of look. Then I started moving my hand on my own, squeezing him a bit, rubbing as much his grip would let me. God he got pissed.
“He almost fucking spit when opened his mouth. ‘Fuck you.’ Like he was trying to curse me with more than words. We both knew he wanted it, but I don’t think he had been planning for it and, not really like Patty, Clowie doesn’t just go with the flow, eh? He’s a pretty controlling type guy. But then again,” Devin smirked wildly, “so am I.
“So I thought about what he said, and what exactly my response could be, before I settled on something I figured would either make or break me.” Devin paused, cleared his throat and lowered his volume, and in the most seductive voice Torrey had ever heard him say he whispered with a tinge of fire: “‘Promise?’”
Torrey moaned in his throat, swallowing the sound before it could fully escape.
“He kinda lost it then. Ripped my hand off him and started working at my pants. No hesitation, no nothing. I was hard by then, too. Fucking painfully, and he had to have seen, but he ignored me, just got my pants and boxers around my ankles and said, ‘off.’ He’s so hot when he’s pissed and Torrey, he was really fucking pissed. I still wasn’t sure exactly what he was thinking about doing but I figured once my pants were off and he was working on his own fly, that he was probably going to fuck me.”
Torrey grunted softly as the sudden image assaulted his brain: Ryane pounding into Devin, the both of them covered with the sheen of sweat, muscles twitching under the taut skin like a fucking powerhouse waiting to burst.
Devin looked over at Torrey and grinned, letting go of the wheel long enough to squeeze his knee and Torrey, craving any contact, lifted up into the warmth of his offered palm.
“He wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me into him until we were grinding against each other, and I don’t even know if he knew yet what he was going to do, but I still wanted to touch him. Just as badly as I had in the club. I kind of wrenched my hand in between us and grabbed him while I could, just to feel how hard he was without his jeans in the way.
“I couldn’t quite see him yet, since he was still pushing against me, but he felt really thick, and really heavy. It was the first bit of hesitation I had about bottoming for him since the start of that night. But really, let’s be honest, Clowie doesn’t bottom for anyone so it was going to be me.”
Torrey was staring at Devin’s face, wondering how he could tell his story without blushing. It was all starting to be too much for him to take. He ached for release, or at least some relief. He brought his hand to his lap and started to massage his length though the heavy confines of his pants.
“Shit, Torr. Don’t do that yet! Let me do it later,” Devin reached out to swat his hand away from himself and Torrey groaned in frustration.
“Then why are you telling me this now?”
“I like watching you all flustered and turned on,” Devin winked, but gave no indication that he was ready to stop talking. “Anyway, he was really thick. Not too long or anything, but I could feel him pulsing in my hand with his heartbeat. Really smooth, not much hair or anything like that.
“He growled again once I got a good grip on him, and he bit my neck pretty hard, which just made me squeeze tighter, obviously. So he started fucking my fist, really deliberately, just fast, hard motions back and forth, rocking on the balls of his feet. But I wanted to see him still, so I pushed him back with my other hand. That’s when he got mad again. I think he thought I was stopping or something because the next thing I know, he’s got me by the shoulders and is throwing me onto the ground.
“I fell back and just landed on the carpet, couldn’t even think enough to reach out and catch myself, just lay there naked from the waist down, spread-eagled in the middle of my hotel room.
“He was standing over me for the longest time, and I knew if I moved or did anything else he didn’t like, he’d have walked right out, and I didn’t want him to leave. Especially once I finally saw his dick. I wanted him as much as he wanted me, once I saw him.
“He has one of those really defined ‘V’s you know what I mean?”
Torrey nodded.
“Like the muscles that point down?”
“Runway,” Torrey started blushing before he’d even gotten the word out. He wasn’t going to hear the end of this, he knew already.
“Runway?” The smirk was growing across Devin’s lips.
“Yeah it’s uh… it’s, you know. Like when you’re landing an airplane on the strip and they uh… they point the way. Yeah.” His face was furiously red by now.
“Hell, I know what a runway is. Is that what that’s called? How do you know that?”
“I d-don’t know.” And he really truly didn’t. He had no idea when he’d picked up that particular phrase; it seemed like it had always been there in his mind. He’d noticed before a few of the guys on the team with particularly defined muscles along their lower abs: Clowie, Dougie Murray, even Nabby and Boosh had the goaltender variety.
“So, like, the runway at an airport points the way to the landing target, what is the runway on a guy pointing at?” Devin whooped at his own joke, gripping Torrey’s shoulder with his free hand. “I like that better than happy trail, though,” His fingers moved to the back or Torrey’s neck and stroked the short hairs at the end of his hairline. Torrey shivered against the movements and could tell the other had noticed when he continued his motions.
“I like the idea of a target. Certainly was mine. And it was a damn gorgeous target. His cock didn’t curl up or anything, just stuck straight out and a little bit off to the left, almost purple he was so hard. The head was huge, swollen as hell. Looked so fucking smooth and I just wanted to feel him again. His foreskin was pushed back, stretching the underside of the head and you could see the thick red cord connecting them. Looked so fucking sensitive, like all I’d have to do is just brush my finger against it and he’d be begging to fuck me.
“The head was so fucking defined, too. He’s got a deep ridge around the top, beautiful rim. Shit, I knew right then if he fucked me, I’d feel every little movement. Each little push, every tiny swivel of his hips, God, just fucking massaging me from the inside out. At this point it was hardly even up to him whether or not I bottomed; I’d already driven myself half wild just imagining it. It couldn’t possibly happen any other way.”
Torrey tried to picture the image without closing his eyes: Ryane standing over him naked, dick curling to the left, and the defined mushroom shape of the head. His free hand found its way back to his crotch without his guidance, pressing into the throbbing length and easing some of the burn of arousal.
Devin continued, unaware.
“I could see the precome at the tip, just shining there. He had a really gorgeous slit, really long. I wanted to taste him too, but I didn’t want to move and have him walk out the door. So I just waited. And then he reached down and started touching himself, rocking like he had been when I was the one stroking his cock, but he was running his index finger over the tip when he came up, smearing the precome over everywhere. Now I was the one panting, just lying there on the floor, no pants on, my shirt had come up around my middle when he pushed me. I was trying to let him know I wanted him so he’d stop teasing and get down where I was. I was writhing on the floor, practically.
“Then, Ryane got down onto his knees and scooted up me, he was still staring. He was really quiet, hadn’t said anything since ‘Fuck you.’ And he grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it up as far as he could. First move I made since he threw me was just to get it off the rest of the way.
Torrey swallowed hard.
“He positioned himself by my legs. Like, my feet were on the ground and my legs were bent with my knees up in the air, and he was wedged in between them and had wrapped his thighs around my ass, sort of forcing my legs behind him?
“The tip of his was dick pushing against my asshole, but he wasn’t making any movement to do anything. I was so hard at that point, that it probably looked like I’d already came, the by how much precome that was on my stomach. I nearly started begging, even knowing that he could just up and leave if I had, but I knew I couldn’t just stay like that all fucking night. Either he was gonna fuck me or I was gonna jerk off, but whatever it was, it had to happen right then. He started rubbing himself against me, getting the precome everywhere, and it was cold once the air hit it, but he kept doing that. Sliding the tip up and around my hole and the words were right there on my tongue, just moments away from begging, but before I could say anything, his hips just surged forward and he was suddenly all the way inside me.”
“Oh, god,” Torrey squirmed in his seat as he pictured it, breath leaving his lips in short little pants.
“Before he started moving he bent down to that he was leaning on my chest with his forearms, just watching me while he fucked me. I would have thought that he was just pretending I was someone else, maybe one of those girls from the club, but he didn’t hardly even blink. He just watched me, with that devastatingly attractive look.
“Each time he thrust, his abs were rubbing against my dick and we were both sweating so bad at that point, it was just sliding right between us, slick and tight as hell. I had been close to coming in my pants from the time he’d pushed me against the wall so I knew it wasn’t going to take much. He was making these soft grunting sounds each time he pushed into me, but still wasn’t saying anything.” Devin paused for a breath, shaky and aroused, his own story seemingly affecting him.
“Have you ever found your prostate?”
“What?!” Torrey looked over at Devin in horror and confusion. Where had that come from?
“Have you ever, like, reached up there and looked for it?”
“No, I-I haven’t.”
“Ah, okay. Well, I tried to find my own once, but I think it must just be something you can’t reach on your own, because I’d never quite gotten it before. I’ll help you sometime if you want.”
Torrey swallowed hard, knowing that Devin was saying these things innocently but that he knew full well he was riling Torrey up. He nodded dumbly at the suggestion, suddenly imaging what it would be like, Devin bending him over the counter in their shared bathroom, rubbing his back gently, palm smoothing away the tension from the muscles along his spine, before sliding his thick, slicked digits into Torrey, guitar calluses scratching just roughly against him to sting, but not hurt. Devin would watch his face in the mirror, too and whenever Torrey opened his eyes in surprise or pain or pleasure, he would see Devin staring back at him while he fucked him with his fingers.
“Yeah,” Torrey finally croaked out.
“I just think you must not be able to do it on your own because I could never find it but suddenly, I’m lying on my back, knees up, Ryane’s basically crushing the air out of my lungs while he fucks me and his abs jerk me off, my legs are fucking twitching that it feels so good. So good I can only even pretend to tell you what it was like because there are no fucking words. You know how when you’re drinking and you get that warm heavy burn from your toes and it just starts climbing up your legs the more you have?” Devin waited for Torrey to nod.
“It was just like that, only instead of being alcohol that was building in me, it was fucking come. And I was about to burst with it. I swear. And there was Ryane was his gorgeous face, staring at me, just chewing on his lip and grunting and not saying anything at all, but I think he knew what was up because he started making more encouraging little sounds like ughn ughn ughn,” Devin tried to imitate Ryane and Torrey had no idea if he sounded like the other man had or not, all he knew was that hearing Devin make those sounds had him right on edge and he had to stop thinking about it now or he was going to come in Devin’s car before they even got to the restaurant.
“S-stop,” Torrey squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything but Ryane fucking Devin. Hockey, the coach, his brother. Anything.
“Stop?”
“Just… just stop. For right now. I’m… it’s. There’s just…” Torrey sputtered and blushed as Devin shot him a knowing smile.
“Yeah, like it’s just you?” He looked down to indicate his own crotch and Torrey moaned appreciatively at the bulge in Devin’s pants. “We’re here anyway, so we gotta cool it.”
Torrey looked around and noticed that they had just pulled into the Cheesecake Factory parking lot.
Devin had to lead the way into the restaurant, Torrey concentrating fiercely on concealing his erection in his jeans. He was grateful to have chosen a longer a shirt, but the shadow of the bulge was still visible when he stood straight up, so he discreetly hunched enough to hide it and sighed with relief when they spotted Ryane in a booth in the corner.
Torrey couldn’t stop himself from staring at Ryane as he scooted into the booth next to Devin. Ryane smiled at the both of them and folded up his menu.
“You guys are late. You’re never late for food.”
“Torrey had to change, eh? Thinks Cheesecake Factory is a dress-up occasion.”
Ryane smirked at Torrey, his lips stretching seductively over his wide grin.
“You don’t look too fancy,” he reached across the table and felt the sleeve of Torrey’s t-shirt. “Hundred percent cotton?” He winked and Devin laughed. Torrey was still hard as hell and trying so hard not to make eye contact with either of them.
“He looks fine,” Devin wrapped his hand around the back of Torrey’s neck and squeezed gently, possessively, before letting go and turning to open his menu.
Torrey’s face was hot and tried to shrug away the feeling of Devin’s hand on his skin, glancing up at Ryane in a way that he hoped conveyed casually calm.
Ryane cocked an eyebrow and eyed the flush of Torrey’s face with appraisal. He seemed to be trying out the sentence on his tongue before he spoke. “You look good,” he finally said, leaning back into the leather of the booth.
The ‘thank you’ died in Torrey’s throat before he could speak it.
“So ah, Devin,” the name poured from his mouth like honey and though it was directed at the other man, Ryane’s eyes were still trained on Torrey. He could feel the stare as it prickled over his skin, doing nothing to calm the tension in his pants.
“McGinn called me a coupl’a days ago,” his voice seemed pressing, as though there was more to his sentence than what he’d voiced.
Devin seemed to read the fine print and he looked up from the list of entrées to read Ryane’s expression.
“What’d that ass have to say?”
“Oh, quite a bit actually. Had an interesting story to tell. Then he told me to stay away from you one-on-one,” there was a distinct joviality in his voice that Torrey noticed.
“That why I had to bring this faggot?” Devin jabbed his thumb towards Torrey and smirked.
The word cut through the ambiance of the table harshly and Torrey bit his tongue. Ryane’s eyes flashed with a moment of what looked like offense, but Devin hardly seemed to notice.
“Didja kiss Jamie, faggot?” It spilled from Ryane’s tongue like lava, biting agonizingly at each of them.
“I uh,” the unshakeable Devin seemed suddenly taken aback at the question. What he’d said seemed to abruptly and sorely reach his own ears and he winced slightly. No one spoke as Devin audibly searched for his words settling finally on ‘sorry,’ the shame in his utterance nearly tangible.
Torrey knew he hadn’t really meant it, and though it surprised him to be suddenly the subject of Devin’s typical locker room talk, an expression reserved usually for the very angry moments in a close and dirty game, he could tell the younger man wanted to take it back. He rested a hand on Devin’s knee under the table and squeezed reassuringly.
“I did,” Devin admitted, his leg twitching under the light brush of Torrey’s fingers. “Kiss him, that is. Yeah.”
“W-what did you say to him?” Torrey tried to redirect Ryane’s gaze to himself, a tactic that had seemingly worked. “To ah, to Jamie, I mean.” Ryane’s crooked smile returned and the tension in his brow subsided.
“Told him big fucking deal. Devin’s hot as shit and he should be so lucky,” Ryane eyed Devin’s cautious movements, the embarrassment still evident.
“Really?”
“Yeah, what the fuck is it his business to tell me what Devin does to who.” Ryane was eyeing Torrey in a way that made him squirm. “Anyway, I ordered for you boys since you were so fucking slow to get here. I was hungry as hell. You’re both eating what I’m eating.”
As if on cue, the waiter appeared placing three plates of Chicken Parmesan in front of them.
The dinner conversation from there on centered mostly on teammates and hockey. A few mentions of upcoming roadtrip and what their families were up to back in Canada.
Torrey’s erection had mostly subsided by the time they were done eating, but the undeniable ache of blueballs was still causing him to flinch and rearrange himself in the sticky leather of the booth.
Devin noticed immediately and snaked his hand under the table, renewing the stiffness of his dick with a few quick swipes of his hand over Torrey’s inner thigh, salaciously exposed as he parted his knees to allow Devin access.
“Guys want desert or coffee or something? I think I’m gonna get a cup,” Ryane yawned as if to prove his point. “Gotta hit the bathroom, though. Do me a favor and order a cup or one for yourselves if the waitress comes by?”
They both nodded as he rose to his feet, disappearing down the long hallway to the restrooms.
“When I left off, Ryane was fucking me,” Devin’s breath was suddenly hot in Torrey’s ear, his hand wandering over the tautness of his jeans, spread hard over his thighs and crotch. Torrey had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud.
“I was on my back with my knees in the air, ankles hooked behind him. And he was on top of me, crushing me with his arms, staring. When he first started moving I didn’t know what to expect from him, didn’t know if he was going to hit me or bite me or kiss me next. But he didn’t do anything. He just grunted with each push, his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs and his stomach sandwiching my dick between us.
“And then he was there, touching that spot inside of me that I can’t reach on my own and I remember shouting so loud. I didn’t know anything could ever feel like, so hidden. I want to show you, Torr. Can I show you sometime?” Devin’s lips pressed into the back of his ear and the words buzzed inside of his head.
“Yes, god yes.”
“So good,” his tongue darted out to lick the crease behind Torrey’s ear. “I screamed so loud Ryane had to cover my mouth with his hand. Still didn’t say thing, just fucked me slowly and smothered the noises I was making. I could tell the way his eyes were glazing over he was close, and the places inside me he was touching, I thought I was going to explode.
“Just a few more shoves into me and I was coming, my own cock sliding between us and feel just as much like fucking as anything else, pressed against us. I could feel it so I know he could, come pooling between us and making our torsos slide together even quicker. And I was clamping down on him and trying not to bite his hand which was pressing harder and harder against me.
“And then he came. I could feel him just burst inside me, like a warm splash from the inside and it was loudest noise he made all night. A really deep groan, I could feel it vibrating from his stomach up and out and he just held there while I came, his hips shoved against mine.”
Torrey bit his lip as he imagined it, Ryane on top of him, spilling everything inside of his tight ass.
“And every single spasm pressed that gorgeous fucking tip of his into my sweet spot and I was arching my back each time. Before he was completely done, but once he was quiet, he pulled his hand away and kissed me. Just once, just enough, biting down on my lip and growling.”
“Christ.”
“It was so fucking hot, seeing him lose everything like that. But he left right after. Right after he kissed me. Pulled out and peeled himself off me, you could hear it too, like tape pulling off a roll, where everything between was tacky from my own come. And he got dressed, not bothering to clean off his stomach. And walked right out the door, didn’t say a single thing to me. The next day though, it was like nothing had happened at all.”
Devin pulled away from him abruptly as Ryane rounded the corner. Torrey stared at him, trying to picture what his face looked like as he came, what exactly he sounded like, in more detail than Devin could even describe, what would be like to be completely dominated by him. Fucking hell.
Ryane looked right at him, an eyebrow cocked and Torrey was suddenly terrified that he had the same power to read his thoughts that Devin seemed to have at times. The audacious smirk spreading across his lips seemed to indicate that he did and, holy fuck, did Ryane just wink at him?
“I, uh, I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.” Torrey shot up from his seat and was sprinting for the bathroom stiffly, trying not to create any added friction on his already straining cock. He hoped his shirt was still stretched long enough to cover his front as he weaved through tables and finally made it into the bathroom.
Devin was right behind him and Torrey didn’t even want to think what he’d told Ryane, the two of them dashing them off, a noticeable mottle across Torrey’s neck.
“Not so fast there, bud,” Devin clicked the lock shut on the main bathroom door, sealing them in. The three stall doors flopped open emptily and Torrey felt suddenly predatory.
He charged at Devin, pinning him to the wall as best he could imitate from the story.
“Fuck you,” Torrey spat, grinding his erection into Devin’s thigh. He didn’t mean it, but there was a small part of him that was angry with Devin for teasing him so mercilessly in front of a teammate, in front of Clowe, whether he’d happened to have been fucked by that teammate or not.
“Promise?” Devin grinned.
“I’m not kidding, Dev. This is practically killing me!”
“Then why’d you run off to the bathroom where I can’t help you?” The phony innocence in his voice was enough to drive Torrey mad. He understood completely the anger in Ryane’s seduction; the way Devin could tease and tease and then pretend nothing at all was amiss.
“Can’t? You’re here now aren’t you?” Torrey’s voice broke as he felt Devin’s hands working with the clasp of his jeans. His angry tone faltered as he finally got what he wanted.
“Yeah. I am.” Devin peeled away the heavy fabric from Torrey’s thighs and caught the man’s weight as he leaned into him heavily.
The only noise coming from the two of them was heavy panting and a quiet, slow hum from Torrey’s lips as Devin closed his hand around Torrey’s shaft, pumping his fist quickly.
“Tell me when you’re close, Torr. Can’t make a mess.” Devin leaned his forehead against Torrey’s and the both of them watched as Devin’s tan hand swept over Torrey’s pale length, brushing across the head expertly. Torrey knew it wouldn’t be long, knew it shouldn’t be long. The thought that Ryane was still waiting for the both of them made him all the harder.
Torrey closed his eyes and pictured Devin on his back, Ryane plowing into him, the vulnerable position of Devin, Ryane claiming him shamelessly. The heavy feeling in his balls tightened further with the image.
Torrey let himself imagine momentarily that it was he sprawled on the scratchy carpet, Ryane staring down at him with that same look he got on the ice that gave Torrey shivers, his hips pressing furiously into the backs of Torrey’s thighs as he pumped in and out.
“Dev, now. Shit!” Torrey gasped as Devin pulled away suddenly. “No! Fuck! Please, Dev. Please! Don’t do this to me now, don’t stop!” He cringed at the whine of weakness in his voice.
“Shh,” Devin moved Torrey’s hands so that he was supporting himself against the wall and sunk to his knees in front of him. “Can’t make a mess, have to go back out there.”
Even the swish of air across his cock as Devin moved to kneel was nearly too much for Torrey to hold on.
“God, hurry. Devin I’m right there right there. Hurry.” he was so excruciatingly close he expected that he could will himself to orgasm if need be.
But with that last request, Devin lips were closed around Torrey’s length in one quick motion, warm and wet and inviting.
Torrey had to bite his lip to contain his surprised scream, his fingers falling from the cold tile to tangle into Devin’s hair and he cursed him for gelling it so thoroughly, leaving little to actually grab.
He could feel Devin moan around the tip of his cock and he was racing suddenly and explosively to orgasm. One quick rake of Devin’s tongue over the underside of his dick and he was there, shooting himself down the back of Devin’s throat, legs struggling to hold him upright. His throat clamped shut and Torrey held his breath as pulse after pulse shot through him.
Torrey bit down harder on his own lip, feeling the skin break under the sharpness of his teeth. His balls clenched with each spasm, emptying what felt like his entire gut. A small part of Torrey couldn’t help but be grateful that Devin had held him off so long, knowing that his release wouldn’t be nearly as powerful otherwise.
Devin didn’t stop, sucking every last bit of come from him, hands working over the length of his shaft, producing the last drops onto his tongue. Torrey finally gasped in a breath, the coppery blood pooling under his tongue and he swallowed deeply, as did Devin.
Devin finally pulled back, lifting Torrey’s pants with him as he slowly moved to stand, gently tucking Torrey’s sensitive, softening penis back into his jeans.
Torrey allowed himself to collapse against Devin, smelling himself on Devin’s breath and the warm musk of his skin as Torrey’s nose buried into the exposed flesh of his neck.
His fingers wormed between the two of them and down to the swell of Devin’s pants, but his hand was brushed away.
“Later,” the warm pink lips pressed into his jaw before they bit down gently. “S’just you right now. I teased you enough.”
“Yeah,” Torrey’s legs were still shaking and he gripped Devin harder to collect his balance.
“I uh, I’m sorry. You, know, that I said that, said what I did, back at the table. That I called you that. I don’t… I didn’t mean it.”
Torrey held the man tighter against his spent body in a slack hug before pulling back to cup his face, the twinge of regret evident in his deep brown eyes.
“I know. I think the problem was that, you sorta called Ryane that too, in a roundabout way,” Torrey brushed his thumb over Devin’s cheek.
“Yeah, I uh, I got that, from his reaction.”
“Sounds like he gave something up to you that he wasn’t really ever expecting to, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“If yer gonna keep up with your whole team goal, you might wanna cut things like that outta yer dialogue. Especially your non-game time dialogue?”
Devin looked painfully embarrassed and Torrey leaned up to kiss him on the corner of his mouth.
“I forgive you,” he finally sighed, letting his lips brush over the light stubble forming across Devin’s jaw.
“Thank you.”
The tender moment from Devin was something to be noted, as usually they never lasted. This time was no exception.
“You know, Ryane would definitely go for you, Torr. Bet he would, too. He’d be an idiot not to.”
“Oh, um,” Torrey really, really hated how much he blushed sometimes.
“Don’t worry though. I won’t say anything to him or anything.” And with that and a quick peck on the lips, Devin unlocked the bathroom door and headed back to the table.
Torrey waited to steady his breathing before returning, and wondered how even without coming Devin still seemed more composed. He vowed to make it up to him later that evening. Or maybe make him pay for the teasing he’d been doing.
Torrey splashed water on his face and finally was ready to head back to the restaurant.
He slid back into the booth next to Devin and found a cup of coffee waiting for him. Devin and Ryane sipped casually at their own cups.
And then Torrey noticed it, that familiar gleam in Ryane’s eye. The post-goal, celebratory hug look.
He knew that Devin hadn’t said anything. He might be horndog, Torrey knew, but he wasn’t a liar when it came to things like that.
He took a quick sip of the hot liquid, flinching as it burned all the way the down his throat, but he was desperate to distract himself from that heavy glare. The stirring in his pants was beginning anew and he didn’t want to go another five minutes with that unsatiated feeling again.
“Yer, uh, yer bleeding, Mitchy,” Ryane reached across the table and swiped the bead of blood from Torrey’s cracked lips, raw from where he’d bitten them in an attempt to quiet his moans. His breath escaped his slightly open mouth and his inhalation was shaky and abrupt as the pad of Ryane’s thumb brushed against the sensitive skin. Fuck.
Ryane wiped the smear onto his napkin and smiled.
Devin nudged him with his elbow and Torrey knew this wasn’t over between the three of them.
-to be continued: there be more boys on this team!-
Author: sherlockelly
Pairing: Devin Setoguchi/Ryane Clowe; Devin/Torrey Mitchell
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Real people, fake story.
Summary: Devin has a little bet going with himself, when it backfires a bit he looks to Torrey for help.
Author's Note: I'm not a big fan of stuff where the whole team is gay for each other, but... on the other hand... Devin's got himself some pretty big dreams okay? I'm not gonna dash them before he gets to realize them.
Edited by: revuko. Thanks for the ass-kicking!
Other Parts: one
“Hey there bud!” Torrey was greeted warmly as entered his apartment after physical therapy. Devin was sitting on the sofa in the living room, strumming his guitar. Exactly where he’d been when Torrey left two hours earlier. He smiled at the thought.
No Jamie there, feet up on the table, drinking all of the beer Torrey had bought. No loud music or violent video games that “didn’t allow three players.” Just Devin, wearing nothing but sweatpants as he played a few random chords and smiled warmly at him.
“Hey. You been there the whole time?” Torrey dropped his equipment and joined Devin on the couch, leaning down to kiss him as he did.
“Yeah. I was gonna make dinner, but then Clowie called and asked if we wanted to go with him to Cheesecake Factory tonight.”
“He paying?” Torrey looked at Devin skeptically.
“Doesn’t he always? ‘Sides, he invited us so he ought to.”
“When are we meeting up with him? I should change,” he pawed at the worn denim covering his legs.
“Why, what’s wrong with that?” Devin stopped strumming the guitar and swiped out a hand to hook a finger in a growing hole at the thigh of Torrey’s jeans.
“Not really that fancy or anything are they?”
“Fancy? Torrey, it’s the fuckin’ Cheesecake Factory. And Clowie.”
Torrey looked away from Devin’s dubious glare. He really didn’t want to go into this right now, but Devin it seemed never had a sense of when a conversation was appropriate.
“Were you going to go in that?” Torrey cocked his hip to the side in an attempt to divert the discussion. He indicated Devin’s shabby grey sweats and brushed a finger across his bare shoulder.
“I’m in pajamas, not clothes. And don’t skirt the subject,” Torrey groaned as Devin expertly read his mind, the way he was always apt to do. “No, I’m serious! Why do you have to change?”
“Why does it matter?” Torrey tried to pray away the flush he could feel rising in his cheeks.
“You gotta thing for Clowie I should know about?” The teasing lilt in Devin’s voice alerted him to the fact that he’d been found out, but he vowed to keep up with his appearances.
“No! Come on Dev.”
“I don’t care if you do, Torrey. You two would be really fucking hot together. I might be able to get him to go for it if you want.”
“What?! Christ, Devin! No! I don’t--,” Devin began strumming on his guitar.
“Ryane and Torrey, sitting in a tree.”
“Oh, come on, are you five?!”
"F-U-C-K-I-N--hey!" Torrey gave Devin’s head a playful shove before marching off to his room to change. There was no point in denying it and no point in admitting it, so Torrey did neither.
He’d had a small crush on Clowie since day one when he caught him changing out of the corner of his eye. Something about the way he looked, hard and smooth and all muscle. He was a solid body, the kind of build Torrey had always admired and wanted for himself. Until he was bold enough one day to admit to himself that it wasn’t about envy at all and really he just wanted.
It wasn’t anything worth talking about though; he hadn’t thought much about it once Devin moved in with him and starting playing the tease day in and day out. The first real reminder of it he’d had since then was when Devin had listed Ryane off as one of the guys he’d hooked up with. And that he’d mentioned that was catalyst for the rest of the list, he had to admit he was interested.
Torrey shimmied out of his torn jeans and pulled a darker pair from the drawer. He knew it wasn’t a cause for formal attire, but a juvenile part of him still wanted to look good around Clowie, still wanted him to see Torrey as at least something to be desired. Especially now that he knew that Ryane would, at least under Devin’s conviction, be into that sort of thing.
A pair of warm palms was suddenly cupping his ass through his boxer briefs and Torrey jumped in surprise.
“Want me to tell you about ‘im?” Devin cooed in his ear.
“Holy hell, Dev! Scare the shit out of me why don’t you!” He did. He wanted Devin to tell him everything down to what Ryane smelled like when he came.
“Want me to or not? We got about ten minutes before we should leave. Unless you want all the details,” Torrey shivered as Devin practically purred his words. “Might take a little bit longer then.”
Devin’s hands crept around Torrey’s sides, his fingers sliding deftly under the waistband of Torrey’s underwear, allowing his thumbs to brush along the base of Torrey’s hardening length.
“Details,” Torrey sighed heavily as Devin continued to tease him.
“Yeah?” Devin sunk his teeth into the back of Torrey’s neck and Torrey could feel him semi-hard against his lower back as his arched with the feeling.
“I wanna know what it was like.”
He grumbled when Devin pulled back and flopped himself down on Torrey’s bed, leaning on his hands. His head lolled to his shoulder and he leered as Torrey reluctantly got redressed.
When he finally slipped the clean shirt over his head, Devin began.
“So we’d gone out that night, with a few of the guys, just to some dance club. It was early in the season so we weren’t too exhausted after each game; just the excitement of playing again was enough to keep everybody up. I think we were in Florida. It was such a hot night and we had finished a weekend of back to back games.
“I think it was Saturday night, a perfect night to go out. I remember Clowie and I had both scored and we were all looking to celebrate. He showed up and had already had a few drinks in his room. He looked amazing that night. Really tight jeans, tight shirt. It was white too, so you could almost see his skin right through it. He was still so tan from the summer. And the way the club was lit each of this muscles were just so visible.”
Torrey draped himself next to Devin and closed his eyes, picturing Ryane in formfitting white shirt, muscles tanned and outlined through the thin fabric. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“That natural high of scoring just seemed to be compounding everything. I wanted to touch him so badly, just feel that ripple, you know how muscles get? Especially after a game. That quiver when you’re really working them?”
Devin’s fingers danced up the length of Torrey’s healing leg, and Torrey bit back a sob. The therapy left him with those trembles daily and under the soft prodding of Devin’s fingers, he could feel the strain give way, the little shivers just beginning in the strengthening muscles of his knee.
“It was still early enough in the season we were all getting those at the end of the game. Like flutters under the skin. God, I wanted to feel that on him, but I knew he wouldn’t let me just reach out and touch. So I had to improvise.
“I spent a lot of the night dancing next to him. We weren’t exactly pressed for partners, quite a few women were looking at him like they really wanted him, and I had to keep making sure that none of them were between us. It wasn’t hard to fake bumping into him the way the crowd moved in. I’d start with my back against his, his ass brushing against mine. Then turn a bit so our sides were grazing.
“It was hot in the club, we were all starting to sweat and that lingering equipment smell was in our skin. That plasticky smell mixed with the glove disinfectant and hotel soap. The smell of hockey, yeah? This was still early in the year and I’d fucking missed that smell, would’ve been turned on just by that alone, but the combination of knowing it was him, the fact that he was sweating enough his shirt was seemingly getting thinner and thinner. I mean, you could see right through it at this point.
“The more I had to drink the more risks I was taking, really. I let my hands brush against his ass, I grabbed him a few times, pretending I was mistaking him for one of the girls. One of ‘em caught on I think and was pushing me back into him. She’d got me turned around so she was behind me, kinda gliding her hands up my stomach under my shirt and pushing her hips into me until I was right up against him, his back to my front. And really it was an accident that I’d grabbed him, I thought I was going to fall. But my hands were on his hips and she was still pushing me into him, and I was hard as I could have been then, considering I’d had a bit to drink at the bar.”
“Did he notice?” Torrey leaned on his hand, supported by his elbow and watched as Devin chewed his lip, contemplating the story and trying to piece back together the memories now clouded by alcohol and tiredness and dehydration and arousal.
“Are you kidding? He turned around fast as fuck and grabbed me by the shoulders pushing me back from him. I should probably mention that I was… well, a lot drunker than I’ve been telling. I mean, I didn’t set out to hook up with him, but after three or four shots, I really didn’t want anything else. And we hadn’t had anything else to drink but Jack at the bar and I’d had a beer or two in my room. I’d sweat a good five pounds since we got there it was so hot, and was feeling super lightheaded. Especially after playing early that night. And then watching him spin like that got me pretty dizzy, I remember I grabbed him around the neck to stop the whole place from spinning.
“I fell into him again and he was pushed up against my thigh. I didn’t notice he was hard until I felt him flex against me. Christ, I got sober fast after that but he was having none of it and pulled me out of the crowd. He bought a bottle of water at the bar, keeping a really tight grip on my wrist the whole time, like I was going to run away.
“Next thing I know we’re outside and he’s hailing a cab, forcing me to drink the water. Then suddenly we were sitting in the back of a taxi and I was leaning up against him. He wasn’t pushing me away that time. Just letting me lean up against him, my head on his shoulder. I was still grabbing at his leg, keeping things from spinning, but once I got some of that water in me, I was better. Like night and day, actually.
“He was letting me rub against him, practically. My legs were bouncing against his and I could see his hands in his lap, folded up together and twitching almost. I handed him the water when I was done and I watched him drink it. Blatantly. Each little swallow of his mouth, his throat bobbing. Christ I was so hard, not trying to hide it or anything. My hand started flexing into his leg while I watched him and he could see me out of the corner of his eyes, but closed them to shut me out.
“When we got back to the hotel, he paid for the cab and took me upstairs, but he led me right past his door, and he’d had his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me into him, even though I could walk just fine. I was trying to get away from him, you know, didn’t need any help, didn’t want him to think I did, but the first thing I grabbed when I reached out was his back pocket, brushing against his ass. God damn, he’s got a beautiful ass, each step and I could feel it flexing.”
“W-we should probably leave now,” Torrey shakily swung a leg to the floor and rose to his feet, offering a hand to Devin. His mind was spinning with images of Ryane, walking Devin back to his room, and then deciding on something else. He wanted to be in that situation, the dangerous feeling of the unknown.
“Oh, yeah. Shit, almost forgot I was hungry,” Devin laughed a deep laugh and allowed Torrey to pull him up, crashing into him when he was upright and grazing his erection against Torrey’s thigh as he moved to pass him. “Almost.”
They walked to the car after Devin changed into real clothing, Torrey, having watched him from the doorway of his bedroom, was stiffly trying to keep his own erection from rubbing against his inseam.
Devin started the car and watched as the other moved back the passenger seat, allowing his legs to stretch out in front of him and alleviate the squeeze of his pants. He was beginning to curse himself for changing, the original torn pair providing much more room in the crotch.
“He told me to open the door to my own room and I figured he was going to make sure I made it into bed alright, but once I was in the room, he followed, closing the door behind him and then he was right there. Had me slammed me up against the wall, with his hand on my chest,” Devin continued eagerly and Torrey groaned, the rush of blood renewing the tightness of his dick.
“And he pinned me there, just the bridge of his knuckles digging into my chest. His face was only a few centimeters from mine and I could hear him growling under his breath. He stared at me for a good two minutes just panting in this animal way. I could tell he was turned on, the way he was looking at me like that, his eyes half closed. You know that look of his.”
Torrey did know that look. Ryane got it every time he scored a goal. It gave him shivers when he went over to hug him in celebration and there he was, looking predatory and eager. It was tantalizing to know that under all that equipment he was hard as hell. He hated to admit that that exhilaration was one of the things he missed the most that season, Ryane’s inability to separate sexual and emotional excitement. He bit his lip as he remembered.
“You definitely gotta thing for him, don’t you?” Devin laughed as he noticed Torrey’s jaw clench.
“S’the story, is all,” Torrey lied, and he knew Devin could read him.
“Fuck Torrey, I don’t care if you do! I mean, obviously I did as well, right?”
Torrey shrugged his shoulders.
“Anyway, he was in my face, breathing hard. The sweat had dried on us and everything was itchy where he was touching me. But then he pushed me again, harder into the wall and snarled almost, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
“I didn’t know what he meant, really. I mean, he was the one pinning to me the wall, standing close enough that I could feel the brush of his crotch, but not close enough for me to tell if he was hard or not. So I didn’t say anything, I just stared at him.
“‘Don’t you fucking start anything that you aren’t prepared to finish, boy.’ Boy! I’m almost embarrassed to even tell you how hard that made me, hearing him say that. Like he owned me. I remember that it made me thrust forward into his thigh and he grunted and pulled himself back, away from me.
“Of course, I saw the only option I had as play dumb, so I said ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ And before I could even finish the words, he grabbed my wrist hard and forced my hand to cup his crotch.”
“Shit,” Torrey bit his lip and shifted in the car seat. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to ask to hear this story while they were on their way out.
“He was hard as shit, too. Not just a little bit, either, fucking full-on hard and Christ, I didn’t really know what I was planning for that night, but once I felt him like that, I knew I was going to take this as far as I could. So I let him force my hand a little bit, feel him. He was grinding against me just a bit and I was only sort of moving my fingertips. But once he realized I wasn’t pulling away, he gave me this look, kind of like a ‘how dare you make me want this’ kind of look. Then I started moving my hand on my own, squeezing him a bit, rubbing as much his grip would let me. God he got pissed.
“He almost fucking spit when opened his mouth. ‘Fuck you.’ Like he was trying to curse me with more than words. We both knew he wanted it, but I don’t think he had been planning for it and, not really like Patty, Clowie doesn’t just go with the flow, eh? He’s a pretty controlling type guy. But then again,” Devin smirked wildly, “so am I.
“So I thought about what he said, and what exactly my response could be, before I settled on something I figured would either make or break me.” Devin paused, cleared his throat and lowered his volume, and in the most seductive voice Torrey had ever heard him say he whispered with a tinge of fire: “‘Promise?’”
Torrey moaned in his throat, swallowing the sound before it could fully escape.
“He kinda lost it then. Ripped my hand off him and started working at my pants. No hesitation, no nothing. I was hard by then, too. Fucking painfully, and he had to have seen, but he ignored me, just got my pants and boxers around my ankles and said, ‘off.’ He’s so hot when he’s pissed and Torrey, he was really fucking pissed. I still wasn’t sure exactly what he was thinking about doing but I figured once my pants were off and he was working on his own fly, that he was probably going to fuck me.”
Torrey grunted softly as the sudden image assaulted his brain: Ryane pounding into Devin, the both of them covered with the sheen of sweat, muscles twitching under the taut skin like a fucking powerhouse waiting to burst.
Devin looked over at Torrey and grinned, letting go of the wheel long enough to squeeze his knee and Torrey, craving any contact, lifted up into the warmth of his offered palm.
“He wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me into him until we were grinding against each other, and I don’t even know if he knew yet what he was going to do, but I still wanted to touch him. Just as badly as I had in the club. I kind of wrenched my hand in between us and grabbed him while I could, just to feel how hard he was without his jeans in the way.
“I couldn’t quite see him yet, since he was still pushing against me, but he felt really thick, and really heavy. It was the first bit of hesitation I had about bottoming for him since the start of that night. But really, let’s be honest, Clowie doesn’t bottom for anyone so it was going to be me.”
Torrey was staring at Devin’s face, wondering how he could tell his story without blushing. It was all starting to be too much for him to take. He ached for release, or at least some relief. He brought his hand to his lap and started to massage his length though the heavy confines of his pants.
“Shit, Torr. Don’t do that yet! Let me do it later,” Devin reached out to swat his hand away from himself and Torrey groaned in frustration.
“Then why are you telling me this now?”
“I like watching you all flustered and turned on,” Devin winked, but gave no indication that he was ready to stop talking. “Anyway, he was really thick. Not too long or anything, but I could feel him pulsing in my hand with his heartbeat. Really smooth, not much hair or anything like that.
“He growled again once I got a good grip on him, and he bit my neck pretty hard, which just made me squeeze tighter, obviously. So he started fucking my fist, really deliberately, just fast, hard motions back and forth, rocking on the balls of his feet. But I wanted to see him still, so I pushed him back with my other hand. That’s when he got mad again. I think he thought I was stopping or something because the next thing I know, he’s got me by the shoulders and is throwing me onto the ground.
“I fell back and just landed on the carpet, couldn’t even think enough to reach out and catch myself, just lay there naked from the waist down, spread-eagled in the middle of my hotel room.
“He was standing over me for the longest time, and I knew if I moved or did anything else he didn’t like, he’d have walked right out, and I didn’t want him to leave. Especially once I finally saw his dick. I wanted him as much as he wanted me, once I saw him.
“He has one of those really defined ‘V’s you know what I mean?”
Torrey nodded.
“Like the muscles that point down?”
“Runway,” Torrey started blushing before he’d even gotten the word out. He wasn’t going to hear the end of this, he knew already.
“Runway?” The smirk was growing across Devin’s lips.
“Yeah it’s uh… it’s, you know. Like when you’re landing an airplane on the strip and they uh… they point the way. Yeah.” His face was furiously red by now.
“Hell, I know what a runway is. Is that what that’s called? How do you know that?”
“I d-don’t know.” And he really truly didn’t. He had no idea when he’d picked up that particular phrase; it seemed like it had always been there in his mind. He’d noticed before a few of the guys on the team with particularly defined muscles along their lower abs: Clowie, Dougie Murray, even Nabby and Boosh had the goaltender variety.
“So, like, the runway at an airport points the way to the landing target, what is the runway on a guy pointing at?” Devin whooped at his own joke, gripping Torrey’s shoulder with his free hand. “I like that better than happy trail, though,” His fingers moved to the back or Torrey’s neck and stroked the short hairs at the end of his hairline. Torrey shivered against the movements and could tell the other had noticed when he continued his motions.
“I like the idea of a target. Certainly was mine. And it was a damn gorgeous target. His cock didn’t curl up or anything, just stuck straight out and a little bit off to the left, almost purple he was so hard. The head was huge, swollen as hell. Looked so fucking smooth and I just wanted to feel him again. His foreskin was pushed back, stretching the underside of the head and you could see the thick red cord connecting them. Looked so fucking sensitive, like all I’d have to do is just brush my finger against it and he’d be begging to fuck me.
“The head was so fucking defined, too. He’s got a deep ridge around the top, beautiful rim. Shit, I knew right then if he fucked me, I’d feel every little movement. Each little push, every tiny swivel of his hips, God, just fucking massaging me from the inside out. At this point it was hardly even up to him whether or not I bottomed; I’d already driven myself half wild just imagining it. It couldn’t possibly happen any other way.”
Torrey tried to picture the image without closing his eyes: Ryane standing over him naked, dick curling to the left, and the defined mushroom shape of the head. His free hand found its way back to his crotch without his guidance, pressing into the throbbing length and easing some of the burn of arousal.
Devin continued, unaware.
“I could see the precome at the tip, just shining there. He had a really gorgeous slit, really long. I wanted to taste him too, but I didn’t want to move and have him walk out the door. So I just waited. And then he reached down and started touching himself, rocking like he had been when I was the one stroking his cock, but he was running his index finger over the tip when he came up, smearing the precome over everywhere. Now I was the one panting, just lying there on the floor, no pants on, my shirt had come up around my middle when he pushed me. I was trying to let him know I wanted him so he’d stop teasing and get down where I was. I was writhing on the floor, practically.
“Then, Ryane got down onto his knees and scooted up me, he was still staring. He was really quiet, hadn’t said anything since ‘Fuck you.’ And he grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it up as far as he could. First move I made since he threw me was just to get it off the rest of the way.
Torrey swallowed hard.
“He positioned himself by my legs. Like, my feet were on the ground and my legs were bent with my knees up in the air, and he was wedged in between them and had wrapped his thighs around my ass, sort of forcing my legs behind him?
“The tip of his was dick pushing against my asshole, but he wasn’t making any movement to do anything. I was so hard at that point, that it probably looked like I’d already came, the by how much precome that was on my stomach. I nearly started begging, even knowing that he could just up and leave if I had, but I knew I couldn’t just stay like that all fucking night. Either he was gonna fuck me or I was gonna jerk off, but whatever it was, it had to happen right then. He started rubbing himself against me, getting the precome everywhere, and it was cold once the air hit it, but he kept doing that. Sliding the tip up and around my hole and the words were right there on my tongue, just moments away from begging, but before I could say anything, his hips just surged forward and he was suddenly all the way inside me.”
“Oh, god,” Torrey squirmed in his seat as he pictured it, breath leaving his lips in short little pants.
“Before he started moving he bent down to that he was leaning on my chest with his forearms, just watching me while he fucked me. I would have thought that he was just pretending I was someone else, maybe one of those girls from the club, but he didn’t hardly even blink. He just watched me, with that devastatingly attractive look.
“Each time he thrust, his abs were rubbing against my dick and we were both sweating so bad at that point, it was just sliding right between us, slick and tight as hell. I had been close to coming in my pants from the time he’d pushed me against the wall so I knew it wasn’t going to take much. He was making these soft grunting sounds each time he pushed into me, but still wasn’t saying anything.” Devin paused for a breath, shaky and aroused, his own story seemingly affecting him.
“Have you ever found your prostate?”
“What?!” Torrey looked over at Devin in horror and confusion. Where had that come from?
“Have you ever, like, reached up there and looked for it?”
“No, I-I haven’t.”
“Ah, okay. Well, I tried to find my own once, but I think it must just be something you can’t reach on your own, because I’d never quite gotten it before. I’ll help you sometime if you want.”
Torrey swallowed hard, knowing that Devin was saying these things innocently but that he knew full well he was riling Torrey up. He nodded dumbly at the suggestion, suddenly imaging what it would be like, Devin bending him over the counter in their shared bathroom, rubbing his back gently, palm smoothing away the tension from the muscles along his spine, before sliding his thick, slicked digits into Torrey, guitar calluses scratching just roughly against him to sting, but not hurt. Devin would watch his face in the mirror, too and whenever Torrey opened his eyes in surprise or pain or pleasure, he would see Devin staring back at him while he fucked him with his fingers.
“Yeah,” Torrey finally croaked out.
“I just think you must not be able to do it on your own because I could never find it but suddenly, I’m lying on my back, knees up, Ryane’s basically crushing the air out of my lungs while he fucks me and his abs jerk me off, my legs are fucking twitching that it feels so good. So good I can only even pretend to tell you what it was like because there are no fucking words. You know how when you’re drinking and you get that warm heavy burn from your toes and it just starts climbing up your legs the more you have?” Devin waited for Torrey to nod.
“It was just like that, only instead of being alcohol that was building in me, it was fucking come. And I was about to burst with it. I swear. And there was Ryane was his gorgeous face, staring at me, just chewing on his lip and grunting and not saying anything at all, but I think he knew what was up because he started making more encouraging little sounds like ughn ughn ughn,” Devin tried to imitate Ryane and Torrey had no idea if he sounded like the other man had or not, all he knew was that hearing Devin make those sounds had him right on edge and he had to stop thinking about it now or he was going to come in Devin’s car before they even got to the restaurant.
“S-stop,” Torrey squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything but Ryane fucking Devin. Hockey, the coach, his brother. Anything.
“Stop?”
“Just… just stop. For right now. I’m… it’s. There’s just…” Torrey sputtered and blushed as Devin shot him a knowing smile.
“Yeah, like it’s just you?” He looked down to indicate his own crotch and Torrey moaned appreciatively at the bulge in Devin’s pants. “We’re here anyway, so we gotta cool it.”
Torrey looked around and noticed that they had just pulled into the Cheesecake Factory parking lot.
Devin had to lead the way into the restaurant, Torrey concentrating fiercely on concealing his erection in his jeans. He was grateful to have chosen a longer a shirt, but the shadow of the bulge was still visible when he stood straight up, so he discreetly hunched enough to hide it and sighed with relief when they spotted Ryane in a booth in the corner.
Torrey couldn’t stop himself from staring at Ryane as he scooted into the booth next to Devin. Ryane smiled at the both of them and folded up his menu.
“You guys are late. You’re never late for food.”
“Torrey had to change, eh? Thinks Cheesecake Factory is a dress-up occasion.”
Ryane smirked at Torrey, his lips stretching seductively over his wide grin.
“You don’t look too fancy,” he reached across the table and felt the sleeve of Torrey’s t-shirt. “Hundred percent cotton?” He winked and Devin laughed. Torrey was still hard as hell and trying so hard not to make eye contact with either of them.
“He looks fine,” Devin wrapped his hand around the back of Torrey’s neck and squeezed gently, possessively, before letting go and turning to open his menu.
Torrey’s face was hot and tried to shrug away the feeling of Devin’s hand on his skin, glancing up at Ryane in a way that he hoped conveyed casually calm.
Ryane cocked an eyebrow and eyed the flush of Torrey’s face with appraisal. He seemed to be trying out the sentence on his tongue before he spoke. “You look good,” he finally said, leaning back into the leather of the booth.
The ‘thank you’ died in Torrey’s throat before he could speak it.
“So ah, Devin,” the name poured from his mouth like honey and though it was directed at the other man, Ryane’s eyes were still trained on Torrey. He could feel the stare as it prickled over his skin, doing nothing to calm the tension in his pants.
“McGinn called me a coupl’a days ago,” his voice seemed pressing, as though there was more to his sentence than what he’d voiced.
Devin seemed to read the fine print and he looked up from the list of entrées to read Ryane’s expression.
“What’d that ass have to say?”
“Oh, quite a bit actually. Had an interesting story to tell. Then he told me to stay away from you one-on-one,” there was a distinct joviality in his voice that Torrey noticed.
“That why I had to bring this faggot?” Devin jabbed his thumb towards Torrey and smirked.
The word cut through the ambiance of the table harshly and Torrey bit his tongue. Ryane’s eyes flashed with a moment of what looked like offense, but Devin hardly seemed to notice.
“Didja kiss Jamie, faggot?” It spilled from Ryane’s tongue like lava, biting agonizingly at each of them.
“I uh,” the unshakeable Devin seemed suddenly taken aback at the question. What he’d said seemed to abruptly and sorely reach his own ears and he winced slightly. No one spoke as Devin audibly searched for his words settling finally on ‘sorry,’ the shame in his utterance nearly tangible.
Torrey knew he hadn’t really meant it, and though it surprised him to be suddenly the subject of Devin’s typical locker room talk, an expression reserved usually for the very angry moments in a close and dirty game, he could tell the younger man wanted to take it back. He rested a hand on Devin’s knee under the table and squeezed reassuringly.
“I did,” Devin admitted, his leg twitching under the light brush of Torrey’s fingers. “Kiss him, that is. Yeah.”
“W-what did you say to him?” Torrey tried to redirect Ryane’s gaze to himself, a tactic that had seemingly worked. “To ah, to Jamie, I mean.” Ryane’s crooked smile returned and the tension in his brow subsided.
“Told him big fucking deal. Devin’s hot as shit and he should be so lucky,” Ryane eyed Devin’s cautious movements, the embarrassment still evident.
“Really?”
“Yeah, what the fuck is it his business to tell me what Devin does to who.” Ryane was eyeing Torrey in a way that made him squirm. “Anyway, I ordered for you boys since you were so fucking slow to get here. I was hungry as hell. You’re both eating what I’m eating.”
As if on cue, the waiter appeared placing three plates of Chicken Parmesan in front of them.
The dinner conversation from there on centered mostly on teammates and hockey. A few mentions of upcoming roadtrip and what their families were up to back in Canada.
Torrey’s erection had mostly subsided by the time they were done eating, but the undeniable ache of blueballs was still causing him to flinch and rearrange himself in the sticky leather of the booth.
Devin noticed immediately and snaked his hand under the table, renewing the stiffness of his dick with a few quick swipes of his hand over Torrey’s inner thigh, salaciously exposed as he parted his knees to allow Devin access.
“Guys want desert or coffee or something? I think I’m gonna get a cup,” Ryane yawned as if to prove his point. “Gotta hit the bathroom, though. Do me a favor and order a cup or one for yourselves if the waitress comes by?”
They both nodded as he rose to his feet, disappearing down the long hallway to the restrooms.
“When I left off, Ryane was fucking me,” Devin’s breath was suddenly hot in Torrey’s ear, his hand wandering over the tautness of his jeans, spread hard over his thighs and crotch. Torrey had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud.
“I was on my back with my knees in the air, ankles hooked behind him. And he was on top of me, crushing me with his arms, staring. When he first started moving I didn’t know what to expect from him, didn’t know if he was going to hit me or bite me or kiss me next. But he didn’t do anything. He just grunted with each push, his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs and his stomach sandwiching my dick between us.
“And then he was there, touching that spot inside of me that I can’t reach on my own and I remember shouting so loud. I didn’t know anything could ever feel like, so hidden. I want to show you, Torr. Can I show you sometime?” Devin’s lips pressed into the back of his ear and the words buzzed inside of his head.
“Yes, god yes.”
“So good,” his tongue darted out to lick the crease behind Torrey’s ear. “I screamed so loud Ryane had to cover my mouth with his hand. Still didn’t say thing, just fucked me slowly and smothered the noises I was making. I could tell the way his eyes were glazing over he was close, and the places inside me he was touching, I thought I was going to explode.
“Just a few more shoves into me and I was coming, my own cock sliding between us and feel just as much like fucking as anything else, pressed against us. I could feel it so I know he could, come pooling between us and making our torsos slide together even quicker. And I was clamping down on him and trying not to bite his hand which was pressing harder and harder against me.
“And then he came. I could feel him just burst inside me, like a warm splash from the inside and it was loudest noise he made all night. A really deep groan, I could feel it vibrating from his stomach up and out and he just held there while I came, his hips shoved against mine.”
Torrey bit his lip as he imagined it, Ryane on top of him, spilling everything inside of his tight ass.
“And every single spasm pressed that gorgeous fucking tip of his into my sweet spot and I was arching my back each time. Before he was completely done, but once he was quiet, he pulled his hand away and kissed me. Just once, just enough, biting down on my lip and growling.”
“Christ.”
“It was so fucking hot, seeing him lose everything like that. But he left right after. Right after he kissed me. Pulled out and peeled himself off me, you could hear it too, like tape pulling off a roll, where everything between was tacky from my own come. And he got dressed, not bothering to clean off his stomach. And walked right out the door, didn’t say a single thing to me. The next day though, it was like nothing had happened at all.”
Devin pulled away from him abruptly as Ryane rounded the corner. Torrey stared at him, trying to picture what his face looked like as he came, what exactly he sounded like, in more detail than Devin could even describe, what would be like to be completely dominated by him. Fucking hell.
Ryane looked right at him, an eyebrow cocked and Torrey was suddenly terrified that he had the same power to read his thoughts that Devin seemed to have at times. The audacious smirk spreading across his lips seemed to indicate that he did and, holy fuck, did Ryane just wink at him?
“I, uh, I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.” Torrey shot up from his seat and was sprinting for the bathroom stiffly, trying not to create any added friction on his already straining cock. He hoped his shirt was still stretched long enough to cover his front as he weaved through tables and finally made it into the bathroom.
Devin was right behind him and Torrey didn’t even want to think what he’d told Ryane, the two of them dashing them off, a noticeable mottle across Torrey’s neck.
“Not so fast there, bud,” Devin clicked the lock shut on the main bathroom door, sealing them in. The three stall doors flopped open emptily and Torrey felt suddenly predatory.
He charged at Devin, pinning him to the wall as best he could imitate from the story.
“Fuck you,” Torrey spat, grinding his erection into Devin’s thigh. He didn’t mean it, but there was a small part of him that was angry with Devin for teasing him so mercilessly in front of a teammate, in front of Clowe, whether he’d happened to have been fucked by that teammate or not.
“Promise?” Devin grinned.
“I’m not kidding, Dev. This is practically killing me!”
“Then why’d you run off to the bathroom where I can’t help you?” The phony innocence in his voice was enough to drive Torrey mad. He understood completely the anger in Ryane’s seduction; the way Devin could tease and tease and then pretend nothing at all was amiss.
“Can’t? You’re here now aren’t you?” Torrey’s voice broke as he felt Devin’s hands working with the clasp of his jeans. His angry tone faltered as he finally got what he wanted.
“Yeah. I am.” Devin peeled away the heavy fabric from Torrey’s thighs and caught the man’s weight as he leaned into him heavily.
The only noise coming from the two of them was heavy panting and a quiet, slow hum from Torrey’s lips as Devin closed his hand around Torrey’s shaft, pumping his fist quickly.
“Tell me when you’re close, Torr. Can’t make a mess.” Devin leaned his forehead against Torrey’s and the both of them watched as Devin’s tan hand swept over Torrey’s pale length, brushing across the head expertly. Torrey knew it wouldn’t be long, knew it shouldn’t be long. The thought that Ryane was still waiting for the both of them made him all the harder.
Torrey closed his eyes and pictured Devin on his back, Ryane plowing into him, the vulnerable position of Devin, Ryane claiming him shamelessly. The heavy feeling in his balls tightened further with the image.
Torrey let himself imagine momentarily that it was he sprawled on the scratchy carpet, Ryane staring down at him with that same look he got on the ice that gave Torrey shivers, his hips pressing furiously into the backs of Torrey’s thighs as he pumped in and out.
“Dev, now. Shit!” Torrey gasped as Devin pulled away suddenly. “No! Fuck! Please, Dev. Please! Don’t do this to me now, don’t stop!” He cringed at the whine of weakness in his voice.
“Shh,” Devin moved Torrey’s hands so that he was supporting himself against the wall and sunk to his knees in front of him. “Can’t make a mess, have to go back out there.”
Even the swish of air across his cock as Devin moved to kneel was nearly too much for Torrey to hold on.
“God, hurry. Devin I’m right there right there. Hurry.” he was so excruciatingly close he expected that he could will himself to orgasm if need be.
But with that last request, Devin lips were closed around Torrey’s length in one quick motion, warm and wet and inviting.
Torrey had to bite his lip to contain his surprised scream, his fingers falling from the cold tile to tangle into Devin’s hair and he cursed him for gelling it so thoroughly, leaving little to actually grab.
He could feel Devin moan around the tip of his cock and he was racing suddenly and explosively to orgasm. One quick rake of Devin’s tongue over the underside of his dick and he was there, shooting himself down the back of Devin’s throat, legs struggling to hold him upright. His throat clamped shut and Torrey held his breath as pulse after pulse shot through him.
Torrey bit down harder on his own lip, feeling the skin break under the sharpness of his teeth. His balls clenched with each spasm, emptying what felt like his entire gut. A small part of Torrey couldn’t help but be grateful that Devin had held him off so long, knowing that his release wouldn’t be nearly as powerful otherwise.
Devin didn’t stop, sucking every last bit of come from him, hands working over the length of his shaft, producing the last drops onto his tongue. Torrey finally gasped in a breath, the coppery blood pooling under his tongue and he swallowed deeply, as did Devin.
Devin finally pulled back, lifting Torrey’s pants with him as he slowly moved to stand, gently tucking Torrey’s sensitive, softening penis back into his jeans.
Torrey allowed himself to collapse against Devin, smelling himself on Devin’s breath and the warm musk of his skin as Torrey’s nose buried into the exposed flesh of his neck.
His fingers wormed between the two of them and down to the swell of Devin’s pants, but his hand was brushed away.
“Later,” the warm pink lips pressed into his jaw before they bit down gently. “S’just you right now. I teased you enough.”
“Yeah,” Torrey’s legs were still shaking and he gripped Devin harder to collect his balance.
“I uh, I’m sorry. You, know, that I said that, said what I did, back at the table. That I called you that. I don’t… I didn’t mean it.”
Torrey held the man tighter against his spent body in a slack hug before pulling back to cup his face, the twinge of regret evident in his deep brown eyes.
“I know. I think the problem was that, you sorta called Ryane that too, in a roundabout way,” Torrey brushed his thumb over Devin’s cheek.
“Yeah, I uh, I got that, from his reaction.”
“Sounds like he gave something up to you that he wasn’t really ever expecting to, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“If yer gonna keep up with your whole team goal, you might wanna cut things like that outta yer dialogue. Especially your non-game time dialogue?”
Devin looked painfully embarrassed and Torrey leaned up to kiss him on the corner of his mouth.
“I forgive you,” he finally sighed, letting his lips brush over the light stubble forming across Devin’s jaw.
“Thank you.”
The tender moment from Devin was something to be noted, as usually they never lasted. This time was no exception.
“You know, Ryane would definitely go for you, Torr. Bet he would, too. He’d be an idiot not to.”
“Oh, um,” Torrey really, really hated how much he blushed sometimes.
“Don’t worry though. I won’t say anything to him or anything.” And with that and a quick peck on the lips, Devin unlocked the bathroom door and headed back to the table.
Torrey waited to steady his breathing before returning, and wondered how even without coming Devin still seemed more composed. He vowed to make it up to him later that evening. Or maybe make him pay for the teasing he’d been doing.
Torrey splashed water on his face and finally was ready to head back to the restaurant.
He slid back into the booth next to Devin and found a cup of coffee waiting for him. Devin and Ryane sipped casually at their own cups.
And then Torrey noticed it, that familiar gleam in Ryane’s eye. The post-goal, celebratory hug look.
He knew that Devin hadn’t said anything. He might be horndog, Torrey knew, but he wasn’t a liar when it came to things like that.
He took a quick sip of the hot liquid, flinching as it burned all the way the down his throat, but he was desperate to distract himself from that heavy glare. The stirring in his pants was beginning anew and he didn’t want to go another five minutes with that unsatiated feeling again.
“Yer, uh, yer bleeding, Mitchy,” Ryane reached across the table and swiped the bead of blood from Torrey’s cracked lips, raw from where he’d bitten them in an attempt to quiet his moans. His breath escaped his slightly open mouth and his inhalation was shaky and abrupt as the pad of Ryane’s thumb brushed against the sensitive skin. Fuck.
Ryane wiped the smear onto his napkin and smiled.
Devin nudged him with his elbow and Torrey knew this wasn’t over between the three of them.
-to be continued: there be more boys on this team!-