painkillers and inflammation-blocking steroids, it was up to Brendan and I to reduce the damage he could do to his body while he was on the field. That meant putting in extra time to work with him, trying to help him get his head and his body right.
So that was what Brendan and I did. We focused all of our energy on Ty, tamping down the anger we felt at a system that prioritized ticket sales over everything else. I managed because I had to. At the end of the day, once Brendan was gone and I was alone in the gym, all those shitty feelings returned, pressing down on me. For a second I couldn't breathe, my hand moving to my chest as I walked myself through inhaling and exhaling.
There was only one place I wanted to be, one thing I wanted to do. It was selfish as fuck, but I hoped he'd understand. Grabbing my phone, I sent a quick text. It was late enough now he shouldn't be at school.
Reuben: You home?
Elliot: Yeah, just got in a little bit ago. Why? Need an impromptu lesson?
Reuben: Just need to get my mind off work.
Reuben: Was hoping we could meet up.
Reuben: I really want to fuck you right now.
It was far from the most eloquent text I'd ever sent, but I wasn't in the mood to mince words. If he was down to fool around, great. If he wasn't, maybe I'd look up somebody on Grindr. He didn't have to be perfect. He just had to be something I could focus on that wasn't the futility of my job.
Elliot: You know where to find me.
That was all the invitation I needed. Catching a quick shower and changing out of my sweat-soaked work clothes, I headed over to Elliot's, desperate to lose myself in somebody else for a little while.
There wasn't any buildup. Hardly any foreplay. When I got there, Elliot offered me a beer and an ear if I needed someone to listen. I didn't want either.
Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I tugged him to me and kissed him hard enough to bruise. He was still for a moment, long enough I wondered if I'd read him wrong and he really had just invited me over to talk. Shame started to wash over me, killing the erection I'd been working on during the drive.
Then he'd responded, seeming to understand that what I needed wasn't slow or tender. I wasn't seeking some kind of deep connection. I just needed a way to forget, and the more forcefully I could do that, the better.
Lips and teeth crashed together, tongues battled one another, clothes were torn off in a flurry of wild, desperate hands. His nails raked over my back as I sucked on his nipples, my teeth catching the edge of one.
Lifting him onto the table, I tugged at his zipper so hard it broke. Neither of us cared. It was down far enough for me to pull his cock out and I swallowed him immediately, taking him so far back in my throat that I gagged, my saliva glistening all along his dick.
"Fuck," he breathed in a needy whimper, both hands fisting in my hair.
He urged me back down then stopped, his grip loosening in my hair. When I looked up at him, my eyes blazed with some possessed need.
I released him just long enough to say, "Do it. Fuck my mouth. I'll tap on your thigh three times if I need you to stop."
I sure as hell didn't intend to ask him to stop, but I knew it would make him feel more comfortable. I hadn't gotten around to asking Elliot about his experience. Despite his acting that first time, something told me he wasn't well-versed in this kind of power play.
That was obvious when he started, too. His fingers curled into my hair with conscious effort now, too aware of how tightly he was holding on. When he thrust into my mouth, it wasn't with his full force. He always pulled away before he hit the back of my throat.
Gripping his ass, I dug my blunted nails into his skin and showed him what I wanted. When he tried to draw back I pulled him to me, taking his dick deep into my throat, over and over. I could see the wild, lustful glint in Elliot's eyes as I did it, and I knew he finally understood.
He fucked my mouth in earnest, gripping my hair so tight