Saturday #2 by easilyexcited (Amnesty 2008, Backstory challenge)
Title: Saturday #2
Author: easilyexcited
Pairing: John/OMC
Rating: NC-17 (sexual activity between consenting adolescents)
Wordcount: ~3500
Summary: Boarding school isn't what John expected.
Notes: PWP. Could someday be the second scene in a story about how John Sheppard became John Sheppard, but for now: PWP.
John was so surprised when Ryan answered the door that he stumbled back a step, his wet sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor. Ryan was never there on the weekends; Dave always said that it was as good as having a single room. But right now Dave was nowhere to be seen, and Ryan was starting to look a little concerned by John’s sudden inability to speak. John forced out a halting apology. “Oh, hey, uh-I didn’t think you would be-I mean, I thought Dave would be here, but he’s not, so I’ll just-” John gestured down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. “Sorry to bother you.”
He was turning to go when he felt a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back around to face the doorway. Ryan looked incredibly amused, which didn’t surprise John at all; he was acting like a complete idiot.
Ryan gave John’s shoulder a quick squeeze before moving his hand to the hockey stick John was carrying. “Hey, think I could borrow my stick back? I thought I’d go out later today, if I ever finish this paper. The ice is still good, right?”
John nodded vigorously, his hair flopping against his forehead. He resisted the urge to reach up and try to tame his hat hair-he knew it was a lost cause anyway-and focused on sounding half-intelligent for what was left of the conversation. “It’s ok. It’s getting a little rough, but it’ll last the weekend.”
“Cool.” There was a pause; Ryan seemed to expect something more. John couldn’t figure out what until he felt a tug on the stick he was still holding.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He let go, and Ryan propped the stick up against the wardrobe by the door. “I’m sorry for taking your stick without asking. Dave said that you wouldn’t mind, since you weren’t going to be here anyway.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Ryan seemed sincere; he was smiling, anyway. Possibly still amused by John’s awkwardness. “I was supposed to go with my parents to some big fundraiser this weekend, but I’m really behind in a couple classes. I convinced my mom that it’d be best if I stayed here and got some work done.”
John nodded. He shifted from one foot to the other. He should probably let Ryan get back to his work, then. “Ok. Well, I’d better get going. Thanks for the stick.” He turned to go, but was again stopped by a hand on his shoulder. When he turned back around, Ryan was glancing at the clock by his bed. He seemed indecisive about something.
“Hey, John, you busy now? I was thinking of taking a break, and I could use the company.”
John felt a wave of nerves flush through him, but he managed an answer. “Yeah. I mean, no, I’m not busy. Yeah, I can keep you company.”
Ryan grinned and stepped aside to let him in before closing the door behind him. John threw his coat on Dave’s bed and kicked off his shoes. He tried to calm himself down. He didn’t even know why he was so nervous. It’s not like anything exciting was happening; he was just giving his brother’s roommate a break from his homework. Sure, his brother’s roommate looked like a teenaged Harrison Ford, but John couldn’t get weird every time he was alone with an attractive guy. He had to act normal.
John sat down on Dave’s bed and waited as Ryan cleared his own bed of books and papers. When Ryan came across a magazine, he threw it over to John. Sports Illustrated. John flipped through it, scanning the headlines and pictures, until he heard Ryan plop down on his now-clutter-free bed. When he looked up, Ryan was lying on his side, head propped up on his elbow, facing John from across the room. John tried not to notice the strip of skin that was now visible between Ryan’s sweatshirt and gym shorts.
“So Dave tells me that you’ll probably be on the varsity team next year? For football, I mean.”
John didn’t know why Ryan felt that clarification was necessary. They were both on several teams, but football was what everyone cared about. Ryan had been captain of the varsity team that season. They’d lost most of their games, but the record was an improvement over last year. John wasn’t really all that talented, but Dave thought he could make the team given the school’s current dearth of talent.
“Yeah, I guess if I train this summer, I’ll have a good chance. Coach says that I need to gain some weight, though. I guess I’ll have to work on that after track ends.”
Ryan nodded, his eyes sweeping down John’s slender frame. “Yeah, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Too bad you’re not built like Dave; that guy spends half as much time in the gym as I do and has twice the muscle mass.” John shrugged. He thought it was a noncommittal response, but Ryan seemed to take it differently. His voice took on a soothing tone. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You know, I used to have trouble keeping weight on. Took me a while to find the right balance. Here, let me show you some stuff that helped me.”
Ryan sat up and started rummaging through his desk drawers. He pulled out a few magazines and flipped through them. He seemed to find what he was looking for, and he motioned for John to sit down next to him. “C’mon, you can’t see from over there.”
The spike in John’s heart rate suggested that getting that close to Ryan wasn’t the best idea, but John couldn’t think of a good excuse for staying off Ryan’s bed, so he nodded. He made the few steps across the room last as long as possible. It had taken about two seconds of adrenaline to completely destroy the little calm he’d managed while sitting on Dave’s bed. John felt a thousand pin-pricks of cold sweat on the palms of his hands. He wiped them discreetly on the bed as he sat down. He tried to focus on the magazine in Ryan’s lap rather than on Ryan’s legs. Who the hell wore shorts in the middle of winter anyway?
But the fitness magazines Ryan was showing him weren’t the type of distraction John was hoping for. Ryan was pointing out some articles on protein and wheat germ and muscle mass, but John’s eyes kept wandering to the photos of bodybuilders that adorned every page. John started to wonder if he was dreaming, and if it could be a nightmare. He was sitting inches from one of the most popular, attractive guys in his school--a guy he’d fantasized about for the past five months--looking at pictures of nearly-naked men. And he was wearing sweat pants that hid nothing. This could not end well. John pulled his legs up onto the bed, hugging his knees to his chest.
Ryan paused his lecture on weight-lifting and shot him a questioning look. “Are you cold or something?”
“No, I’m just more comfortable this way.” It didn’t look like Ryan was buying it, probably because John was doing a shitty job hiding how extremely not comfortable he was, not even a little bit. John added, “Really, I’m not cold. What were you saying about low-frequency training?”
Ryan looked at him strangely, but he started talking again. He kept glancing over at John, though, clearly trying to figure out what was wrong. John pretended not to notice. Better that Ryan think he was a freak than to figure out what was really going on. John needed an exit strategy. He waited for Ryan to pause, and quickly interrupted. “Great, you know, this is all really helpful. Maybe I could borrow these magazines for a while? I know you have a lot to do today. I shouldn’t be taking up all your time.”
From the look on his face, Ryan definitely knew something was up. John prepared himself for more questions, but after a long, evaluating stare, Ryan just nodded and handed over the magazines. John held them over his lap as he straightened his legs. He was pretty sure that he could get to his coat without revealing anything, and he could use his coat as less conspicuous cover as he put on his shoes and left. No problem.
But before John made it all the way to his feet, Ryan grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.
John’s heart was really beating out of his chest now. He tried to hide his panic. Ryan didn’t seem upset, but John wasn’t great at reading people. He didn’t know what to expect.
Ryan loosened his hold on John’s arm, but he didn’t let go completely. “Hey, just wait a second, ok? I have one other thing I want to show you.”
Ryan waited until John nodded before he let go and turned away to search through one of his drawers again. He pulled out another magazine, this one smaller than the ones they’d been looking at before, and with a black-and-white cover. It was titled Physique Pictorial, but the guy on the front was definitely not a bodybuilder. He was dressed as a sailor, but John had a feeling that he wasn’t really in the Navy, either. John’s hands tightened on his stack of magazines. Ryan was watching him closely. “Do you want to take a look?”
John couldn’t answer that. He wasn’t sure he could breathe. He thought he knew where this was going, but he didn’t really believe that it could possibly be what he thought, and god, he had no idea how to respond anyway. He just stared at Ryan, and then followed Ryan’s eyes down to the magazine in his hand. Ryan opened it slowly, giving John plenty of time to say no. John didn’t.
John didn’t say anything at all as Ryan flipped through the pages. He’d seen porn magazines, but they were always all women; now he was seeing dozens of naked men at once. Men alone, in pairs, even three or four together; some posing playfully, just hugging or wrestling, others straddling each other suggestively or pointing their hard dicks at the camera. John was completely transfixed, barely breathing as Ryan slowly turned the pages.
Ryan stopped when he reached a full-page photo of a blond guy who looked not much older than they were. The man was standing with his hands crossed behind his head, his jeans open and pushed down around his thighs. His chest was totally smooth, but there was a thin line of hair leading from his belly-button down to a thick patch of curly pubes. His cock was standing straight out and up, dark against the background of his pale hips, and his smooth balls were pulled up tight against his body. John had fantasized about guys like this, but he could never have imagined the details: the moles on the man’s upper leg, the slight shadows under his jutting hipbones. He was overwhelmed by the reality of the photograph, and even more by the reality of looking at it while sitting just inches from another guy who apparently liked it just as much as he did. John ached to touch himself, but he felt frozen, afraid that any movement could bring an end to the exhilarating experience.
John remained still as Ryan shifted the magazine to his left hand and slid his right hand down into his own lap. He watched, completely riveted, as Ryan massaged his hard-on through the cotton of his shorts. As Ryan squeezed the bulge grew larger, until John could clearly see the shape of Ryan’s dick pushing up against the fabric that covered it. Ryan opened his hand and pushed his palm down hard against the head, rubbing circles that pulled the cotton against the sensitive skin. John could hear the shorts rubbing against Ryan’s skin; the only other sound was their breathing, quick and heavy.
John was so mesmerized by the movement of Ryan’s hand in his lap that he didn’t notice Ryan’s left hand moving until he felt an added weight on the magazines he was holding. Ryan had dropped Physique Pictorial on top of the other magazines, and now he pushed at the entire stack, urging John to set them aside. John did so without protest, and suddenly Ryan’s hand was in his lap as well, rubbing John’s dick through his sweats. John could feel himself trembling slightly; he couldn’t control it. He closed his eyes, trying to regain some composure.
“Hey,” Ryan whispered, the soft sound breaking the spell of silence. “You ok?”
John took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Ryan was leaning toward him, looking more serious than John had ever seen him. His eyes were dark, and they were completely intent upon John’s. John nodded. He was still shaking a little, but he was definitely ok.
Ryan took his left hand from John’s lap, replacing it with his right before John could object. He moved his left hand to the bed behind John so that he could lean in closer, stopping when his chest was just inches from John’s side. John could feel the warmth of Ryan’s breath against his cheek, could smell the faint scent of cinnamon; Ryan must have been chewing gum before John showed up. John felt two fingers slide under his waistband and move slowly back and forth along his stomach. Ryan whispered again, cutting through John’s growing sense of hypnosis. “Do you want me to keep going?”
John’s mouth was so dry that he had to wet his lips, swallow, and wet his lips again before he could speak. “Yeah. Keep going.”
Ryan dipped his head and leaned in until his lips brushed against John’s neck. He laid a light kiss at the corner of John’s jaw, then dragged his lips slowly down John’s neck to the collar of his sweatshirt, pressing them gently to the top of John’s collarbone. John shivered, and as Ryan pulled back from his neck he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. John couldn’t keep up with so much new information. He hadn’t known that his neck was so sensitive. He’d never thought that a guy like Ryan would kiss so softly. He’d assumed that he couldn’t have this, that he couldn’t share this with anyone, not until he was living on his own at least a thousand miles away from his family. But he was here, now, right here at the school his father went to and he was learning what it felt like to have his neck kissed by the captain of the football team. He couldn’t make sense of any of it, but he tried to focus enough to remember it all, so that later he would be able to separate reality from his fantasies, from his fears.
Ryan stood up and pushed John to lie back on the bed. John scooted until his head was on the pillow as Ryan stripped off his own sweatshirt. Ryan knelt on the bed and then swung his leg over John so that he was straddling his thighs, and John reached up to run his hand up Ryan’s side and across his chest, brushing over his nipple and feeling the scattered roughness of hair. For just a second John felt Ryan’s heart beating, just as hard and fast as his, but then Ryan was bending down, pushing John’s sweatshirt up to his chest and kissing John’s stomach wetly, sucking at the exposed skin.
John rested his hands on Ryan’s shoulders, running them up and down his back and upper arms as Ryan kissed and sucked, working his way up to John’s chest. He felt a tickle at his waistline, and that was all the warning he had before Ryan’s hand was under the waistband of his sweats and into his underwear, gripping his dick and pulling. John held tightly onto Ryan’s shoulders as he stiffened, his fingers digging deeply into the skin as his back arched against the bed. His breath stuttered and his eyes squeezed shut as he came, his orgasm replacing racing thoughts with pure, uncomplicated pleasure. He collapsed back against the bed, gasping for air. Distantly he could feel Ryan’s mouth against his stomach again, the warmth of his tongue running through rapidly-cooling come.
John opened his eyes when he felt Ryan pull back. He watched as Ryan ran his hand over the slickness on his stomach and then reached up the leg of his own shorts, pulling his dick down through the leg hole. Ryan knelt above him, tugging at his dick against his thigh, John’s come easing the slide of his hand along the shaft. John could see the swollen head of Ryan’s cock sticking out from under the hem of his shorts as it slid in and out of Ryan’s fist.
John reached up and rested his hand on Ryan’s thigh, and then, before he lost his nerve, pushed Ryan’s hand away and took over, squeezing and pulling as smoothly as he could given the awkward angle. John wanted to take Ryan’s shorts off, but seeing no easy way to accomplish that he just used his other hand to push the leg of the shorts up, finally getting a good view of Ryan’s dick as he jerked it. He watched as the dark pink head swelled even bigger and then he could feel the pulse of Ryan coming just before the slick heat hit his hand. He looked up at Ryan’s face, at his tightly shut eyes and flushed cheeks and open mouth. John couldn’t believe he’d just done that. He had no idea what he should do now.
A few seconds later Ryan took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and fell down next to John without warning. John rolled onto his side to make room on the narrow bed. Ryan sat back up long enough to grab his sweatshirt from the bottom of the bed, using it to wipe off his leg and hands before passing it to John to do the same. They faced each other, still breathing heavily. Ryan was smiling. John couldn’t help grinning back. That was, without a doubt, the coolest thing he’d ever done.
Ryan reached over and flicked at the hair that had fallen onto John’s head, his smile growing even wider. He laughed. “Oh my god, I was so scared that I was wrong. I thought that I was fucking everything up, and you were going to tell your brother, and you’d both tell everyone and that would be it, I’d be fucked.” John tensed at the mention of Dave-god, how could he have forgotten about him, this was his room--but Ryan caught his alarm and quickly added, “Don’t worry, he said he’d be gone for the rest of the day. He’s all the way across town with his girlfriend.”
John nodded. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ryan’s. An hour ago John couldn’t have said whether Ryan’s eyes were brown or blue, but now he was completely captivated by the yellow flecks mixed in among the light brown. Ryan held his gaze, and then he leaned in closer, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pressed his lips to John’s. John let his eyes close as he responded, and as the kiss grew deeper he allowed his hands to wander, exploring the contours of Ryan’s chest as he felt Ryan’s fingers stroke gently through his hair.
After that Ryan spent a lot more weekends at the dorm. It was almost impossible to find time alone together-between club meetings and games and meets and practices it was hard to find time, period-but they could usually figure something out. They made excuses to stay behind when their roommates went to dinner, or they went running together, pulling each other off the path where they knew the woods would hide them. At first John worried that someone would catch on, especially Dave, who must have thought it was strange that his roommate was suddenly best friends with his little brother--but no one suspected a thing. Ryan was just so damn straight: he was an athlete and aspiring politician, and everyone knew he had a girlfriend at home; she visited, sometimes, mostly for the school dances. John and Ryan didn’t do anything stupid enough to get caught, and no one ever had any idea.
John knew that Ryan was graduating at the end of the year, so he knew better than to get too attached; still, it was hard to watch him at commencement, taking pictures with his family and girlfriend. She was going to Princeton as well. Ryan had gone home the weekend before to attend her graduation.
Ryan wrote him a couple letters that summer, just general stuff about sports and his family and getting ready to go to college. John thought about writing back, but there was nothing he wanted to say that he could risk putting in a letter, so he didn’t waste his time. He spent the summer drinking protein shakes and going to the gym with his brother. He played on the varsity team that fall.
Author: easilyexcited
Pairing: John/OMC
Rating: NC-17 (sexual activity between consenting adolescents)
Wordcount: ~3500
Summary: Boarding school isn't what John expected.
Notes: PWP. Could someday be the second scene in a story about how John Sheppard became John Sheppard, but for now: PWP.
John was so surprised when Ryan answered the door that he stumbled back a step, his wet sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor. Ryan was never there on the weekends; Dave always said that it was as good as having a single room. But right now Dave was nowhere to be seen, and Ryan was starting to look a little concerned by John’s sudden inability to speak. John forced out a halting apology. “Oh, hey, uh-I didn’t think you would be-I mean, I thought Dave would be here, but he’s not, so I’ll just-” John gestured down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. “Sorry to bother you.”
He was turning to go when he felt a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back around to face the doorway. Ryan looked incredibly amused, which didn’t surprise John at all; he was acting like a complete idiot.
Ryan gave John’s shoulder a quick squeeze before moving his hand to the hockey stick John was carrying. “Hey, think I could borrow my stick back? I thought I’d go out later today, if I ever finish this paper. The ice is still good, right?”
John nodded vigorously, his hair flopping against his forehead. He resisted the urge to reach up and try to tame his hat hair-he knew it was a lost cause anyway-and focused on sounding half-intelligent for what was left of the conversation. “It’s ok. It’s getting a little rough, but it’ll last the weekend.”
“Cool.” There was a pause; Ryan seemed to expect something more. John couldn’t figure out what until he felt a tug on the stick he was still holding.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He let go, and Ryan propped the stick up against the wardrobe by the door. “I’m sorry for taking your stick without asking. Dave said that you wouldn’t mind, since you weren’t going to be here anyway.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Ryan seemed sincere; he was smiling, anyway. Possibly still amused by John’s awkwardness. “I was supposed to go with my parents to some big fundraiser this weekend, but I’m really behind in a couple classes. I convinced my mom that it’d be best if I stayed here and got some work done.”
John nodded. He shifted from one foot to the other. He should probably let Ryan get back to his work, then. “Ok. Well, I’d better get going. Thanks for the stick.” He turned to go, but was again stopped by a hand on his shoulder. When he turned back around, Ryan was glancing at the clock by his bed. He seemed indecisive about something.
“Hey, John, you busy now? I was thinking of taking a break, and I could use the company.”
John felt a wave of nerves flush through him, but he managed an answer. “Yeah. I mean, no, I’m not busy. Yeah, I can keep you company.”
Ryan grinned and stepped aside to let him in before closing the door behind him. John threw his coat on Dave’s bed and kicked off his shoes. He tried to calm himself down. He didn’t even know why he was so nervous. It’s not like anything exciting was happening; he was just giving his brother’s roommate a break from his homework. Sure, his brother’s roommate looked like a teenaged Harrison Ford, but John couldn’t get weird every time he was alone with an attractive guy. He had to act normal.
John sat down on Dave’s bed and waited as Ryan cleared his own bed of books and papers. When Ryan came across a magazine, he threw it over to John. Sports Illustrated. John flipped through it, scanning the headlines and pictures, until he heard Ryan plop down on his now-clutter-free bed. When he looked up, Ryan was lying on his side, head propped up on his elbow, facing John from across the room. John tried not to notice the strip of skin that was now visible between Ryan’s sweatshirt and gym shorts.
“So Dave tells me that you’ll probably be on the varsity team next year? For football, I mean.”
John didn’t know why Ryan felt that clarification was necessary. They were both on several teams, but football was what everyone cared about. Ryan had been captain of the varsity team that season. They’d lost most of their games, but the record was an improvement over last year. John wasn’t really all that talented, but Dave thought he could make the team given the school’s current dearth of talent.
“Yeah, I guess if I train this summer, I’ll have a good chance. Coach says that I need to gain some weight, though. I guess I’ll have to work on that after track ends.”
Ryan nodded, his eyes sweeping down John’s slender frame. “Yeah, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Too bad you’re not built like Dave; that guy spends half as much time in the gym as I do and has twice the muscle mass.” John shrugged. He thought it was a noncommittal response, but Ryan seemed to take it differently. His voice took on a soothing tone. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You know, I used to have trouble keeping weight on. Took me a while to find the right balance. Here, let me show you some stuff that helped me.”
Ryan sat up and started rummaging through his desk drawers. He pulled out a few magazines and flipped through them. He seemed to find what he was looking for, and he motioned for John to sit down next to him. “C’mon, you can’t see from over there.”
The spike in John’s heart rate suggested that getting that close to Ryan wasn’t the best idea, but John couldn’t think of a good excuse for staying off Ryan’s bed, so he nodded. He made the few steps across the room last as long as possible. It had taken about two seconds of adrenaline to completely destroy the little calm he’d managed while sitting on Dave’s bed. John felt a thousand pin-pricks of cold sweat on the palms of his hands. He wiped them discreetly on the bed as he sat down. He tried to focus on the magazine in Ryan’s lap rather than on Ryan’s legs. Who the hell wore shorts in the middle of winter anyway?
But the fitness magazines Ryan was showing him weren’t the type of distraction John was hoping for. Ryan was pointing out some articles on protein and wheat germ and muscle mass, but John’s eyes kept wandering to the photos of bodybuilders that adorned every page. John started to wonder if he was dreaming, and if it could be a nightmare. He was sitting inches from one of the most popular, attractive guys in his school--a guy he’d fantasized about for the past five months--looking at pictures of nearly-naked men. And he was wearing sweat pants that hid nothing. This could not end well. John pulled his legs up onto the bed, hugging his knees to his chest.
Ryan paused his lecture on weight-lifting and shot him a questioning look. “Are you cold or something?”
“No, I’m just more comfortable this way.” It didn’t look like Ryan was buying it, probably because John was doing a shitty job hiding how extremely not comfortable he was, not even a little bit. John added, “Really, I’m not cold. What were you saying about low-frequency training?”
Ryan looked at him strangely, but he started talking again. He kept glancing over at John, though, clearly trying to figure out what was wrong. John pretended not to notice. Better that Ryan think he was a freak than to figure out what was really going on. John needed an exit strategy. He waited for Ryan to pause, and quickly interrupted. “Great, you know, this is all really helpful. Maybe I could borrow these magazines for a while? I know you have a lot to do today. I shouldn’t be taking up all your time.”
From the look on his face, Ryan definitely knew something was up. John prepared himself for more questions, but after a long, evaluating stare, Ryan just nodded and handed over the magazines. John held them over his lap as he straightened his legs. He was pretty sure that he could get to his coat without revealing anything, and he could use his coat as less conspicuous cover as he put on his shoes and left. No problem.
But before John made it all the way to his feet, Ryan grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.
John’s heart was really beating out of his chest now. He tried to hide his panic. Ryan didn’t seem upset, but John wasn’t great at reading people. He didn’t know what to expect.
Ryan loosened his hold on John’s arm, but he didn’t let go completely. “Hey, just wait a second, ok? I have one other thing I want to show you.”
Ryan waited until John nodded before he let go and turned away to search through one of his drawers again. He pulled out another magazine, this one smaller than the ones they’d been looking at before, and with a black-and-white cover. It was titled Physique Pictorial, but the guy on the front was definitely not a bodybuilder. He was dressed as a sailor, but John had a feeling that he wasn’t really in the Navy, either. John’s hands tightened on his stack of magazines. Ryan was watching him closely. “Do you want to take a look?”
John couldn’t answer that. He wasn’t sure he could breathe. He thought he knew where this was going, but he didn’t really believe that it could possibly be what he thought, and god, he had no idea how to respond anyway. He just stared at Ryan, and then followed Ryan’s eyes down to the magazine in his hand. Ryan opened it slowly, giving John plenty of time to say no. John didn’t.
John didn’t say anything at all as Ryan flipped through the pages. He’d seen porn magazines, but they were always all women; now he was seeing dozens of naked men at once. Men alone, in pairs, even three or four together; some posing playfully, just hugging or wrestling, others straddling each other suggestively or pointing their hard dicks at the camera. John was completely transfixed, barely breathing as Ryan slowly turned the pages.
Ryan stopped when he reached a full-page photo of a blond guy who looked not much older than they were. The man was standing with his hands crossed behind his head, his jeans open and pushed down around his thighs. His chest was totally smooth, but there was a thin line of hair leading from his belly-button down to a thick patch of curly pubes. His cock was standing straight out and up, dark against the background of his pale hips, and his smooth balls were pulled up tight against his body. John had fantasized about guys like this, but he could never have imagined the details: the moles on the man’s upper leg, the slight shadows under his jutting hipbones. He was overwhelmed by the reality of the photograph, and even more by the reality of looking at it while sitting just inches from another guy who apparently liked it just as much as he did. John ached to touch himself, but he felt frozen, afraid that any movement could bring an end to the exhilarating experience.
John remained still as Ryan shifted the magazine to his left hand and slid his right hand down into his own lap. He watched, completely riveted, as Ryan massaged his hard-on through the cotton of his shorts. As Ryan squeezed the bulge grew larger, until John could clearly see the shape of Ryan’s dick pushing up against the fabric that covered it. Ryan opened his hand and pushed his palm down hard against the head, rubbing circles that pulled the cotton against the sensitive skin. John could hear the shorts rubbing against Ryan’s skin; the only other sound was their breathing, quick and heavy.
John was so mesmerized by the movement of Ryan’s hand in his lap that he didn’t notice Ryan’s left hand moving until he felt an added weight on the magazines he was holding. Ryan had dropped Physique Pictorial on top of the other magazines, and now he pushed at the entire stack, urging John to set them aside. John did so without protest, and suddenly Ryan’s hand was in his lap as well, rubbing John’s dick through his sweats. John could feel himself trembling slightly; he couldn’t control it. He closed his eyes, trying to regain some composure.
“Hey,” Ryan whispered, the soft sound breaking the spell of silence. “You ok?”
John took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Ryan was leaning toward him, looking more serious than John had ever seen him. His eyes were dark, and they were completely intent upon John’s. John nodded. He was still shaking a little, but he was definitely ok.
Ryan took his left hand from John’s lap, replacing it with his right before John could object. He moved his left hand to the bed behind John so that he could lean in closer, stopping when his chest was just inches from John’s side. John could feel the warmth of Ryan’s breath against his cheek, could smell the faint scent of cinnamon; Ryan must have been chewing gum before John showed up. John felt two fingers slide under his waistband and move slowly back and forth along his stomach. Ryan whispered again, cutting through John’s growing sense of hypnosis. “Do you want me to keep going?”
John’s mouth was so dry that he had to wet his lips, swallow, and wet his lips again before he could speak. “Yeah. Keep going.”
Ryan dipped his head and leaned in until his lips brushed against John’s neck. He laid a light kiss at the corner of John’s jaw, then dragged his lips slowly down John’s neck to the collar of his sweatshirt, pressing them gently to the top of John’s collarbone. John shivered, and as Ryan pulled back from his neck he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. John couldn’t keep up with so much new information. He hadn’t known that his neck was so sensitive. He’d never thought that a guy like Ryan would kiss so softly. He’d assumed that he couldn’t have this, that he couldn’t share this with anyone, not until he was living on his own at least a thousand miles away from his family. But he was here, now, right here at the school his father went to and he was learning what it felt like to have his neck kissed by the captain of the football team. He couldn’t make sense of any of it, but he tried to focus enough to remember it all, so that later he would be able to separate reality from his fantasies, from his fears.
Ryan stood up and pushed John to lie back on the bed. John scooted until his head was on the pillow as Ryan stripped off his own sweatshirt. Ryan knelt on the bed and then swung his leg over John so that he was straddling his thighs, and John reached up to run his hand up Ryan’s side and across his chest, brushing over his nipple and feeling the scattered roughness of hair. For just a second John felt Ryan’s heart beating, just as hard and fast as his, but then Ryan was bending down, pushing John’s sweatshirt up to his chest and kissing John’s stomach wetly, sucking at the exposed skin.
John rested his hands on Ryan’s shoulders, running them up and down his back and upper arms as Ryan kissed and sucked, working his way up to John’s chest. He felt a tickle at his waistline, and that was all the warning he had before Ryan’s hand was under the waistband of his sweats and into his underwear, gripping his dick and pulling. John held tightly onto Ryan’s shoulders as he stiffened, his fingers digging deeply into the skin as his back arched against the bed. His breath stuttered and his eyes squeezed shut as he came, his orgasm replacing racing thoughts with pure, uncomplicated pleasure. He collapsed back against the bed, gasping for air. Distantly he could feel Ryan’s mouth against his stomach again, the warmth of his tongue running through rapidly-cooling come.
John opened his eyes when he felt Ryan pull back. He watched as Ryan ran his hand over the slickness on his stomach and then reached up the leg of his own shorts, pulling his dick down through the leg hole. Ryan knelt above him, tugging at his dick against his thigh, John’s come easing the slide of his hand along the shaft. John could see the swollen head of Ryan’s cock sticking out from under the hem of his shorts as it slid in and out of Ryan’s fist.
John reached up and rested his hand on Ryan’s thigh, and then, before he lost his nerve, pushed Ryan’s hand away and took over, squeezing and pulling as smoothly as he could given the awkward angle. John wanted to take Ryan’s shorts off, but seeing no easy way to accomplish that he just used his other hand to push the leg of the shorts up, finally getting a good view of Ryan’s dick as he jerked it. He watched as the dark pink head swelled even bigger and then he could feel the pulse of Ryan coming just before the slick heat hit his hand. He looked up at Ryan’s face, at his tightly shut eyes and flushed cheeks and open mouth. John couldn’t believe he’d just done that. He had no idea what he should do now.
A few seconds later Ryan took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and fell down next to John without warning. John rolled onto his side to make room on the narrow bed. Ryan sat back up long enough to grab his sweatshirt from the bottom of the bed, using it to wipe off his leg and hands before passing it to John to do the same. They faced each other, still breathing heavily. Ryan was smiling. John couldn’t help grinning back. That was, without a doubt, the coolest thing he’d ever done.
Ryan reached over and flicked at the hair that had fallen onto John’s head, his smile growing even wider. He laughed. “Oh my god, I was so scared that I was wrong. I thought that I was fucking everything up, and you were going to tell your brother, and you’d both tell everyone and that would be it, I’d be fucked.” John tensed at the mention of Dave-god, how could he have forgotten about him, this was his room--but Ryan caught his alarm and quickly added, “Don’t worry, he said he’d be gone for the rest of the day. He’s all the way across town with his girlfriend.”
John nodded. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ryan’s. An hour ago John couldn’t have said whether Ryan’s eyes were brown or blue, but now he was completely captivated by the yellow flecks mixed in among the light brown. Ryan held his gaze, and then he leaned in closer, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pressed his lips to John’s. John let his eyes close as he responded, and as the kiss grew deeper he allowed his hands to wander, exploring the contours of Ryan’s chest as he felt Ryan’s fingers stroke gently through his hair.
After that Ryan spent a lot more weekends at the dorm. It was almost impossible to find time alone together-between club meetings and games and meets and practices it was hard to find time, period-but they could usually figure something out. They made excuses to stay behind when their roommates went to dinner, or they went running together, pulling each other off the path where they knew the woods would hide them. At first John worried that someone would catch on, especially Dave, who must have thought it was strange that his roommate was suddenly best friends with his little brother--but no one suspected a thing. Ryan was just so damn straight: he was an athlete and aspiring politician, and everyone knew he had a girlfriend at home; she visited, sometimes, mostly for the school dances. John and Ryan didn’t do anything stupid enough to get caught, and no one ever had any idea.
John knew that Ryan was graduating at the end of the year, so he knew better than to get too attached; still, it was hard to watch him at commencement, taking pictures with his family and girlfriend. She was going to Princeton as well. Ryan had gone home the weekend before to attend her graduation.
Ryan wrote him a couple letters that summer, just general stuff about sports and his family and getting ready to go to college. John thought about writing back, but there was nothing he wanted to say that he could risk putting in a letter, so he didn’t waste his time. He spent the summer drinking protein shakes and going to the gym with his brother. He played on the varsity team that fall.