Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2017 21:51:12 -0700
From: Alex P <alexp336@gmail.com>
Subject: A Closer Shave - Part 8

Comeuppance is such a lovely word, but Coach Collins might not think
so. As promised, part 8 of A Closer Shave, and things come to a head -
in more ways than one.

If you like it, let me know. alexp336@gmail.com or through
http://dirtyanon.tumblr.com/ (where you'll also find other stories and
such). If you're interested in "Jock Auction" or "The Hitchhiker",
there are details at http://www.AlexPendragon.com/

Otherwise, play safe, donate to Nifty if you can, and enjoy...

-A

===========

A Closer Shave - Part 8


Walking into the gym complex, Tommy tried to imagine the theme music
from a James Bond movie playing in the background, but the record kept
skipping. Even after explaining the plan twice to Andrews, and hearing
the older youth voice his approval, there was still that ominous
feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd bitten off more than he
could chew.

What he knew for sure, though, was that he was committed. Andrews'
cooperation had sealed it, Darren was still about as gung-ho as Tommy
had ever seen him, and in his heart of hearts he knew it was long
overdue that Coach Collins get his comeuppance.

Tommy just wished it was someone else taking responsibility for doing it.

The familiar scent of chlorinated water settled his nerves a little,
as Tommy made his way through the lobby and down toward the pool.
Practice wasn't for another couple of hours, and so he expected he'd
have most of the facility to himself. Was counting on it, in fact.
After all, Collins had to feel comfortable enough to make his move.

Again, that shiver of doubt. Tommy tried to remember what Andrews had
told him, his strong arms wrapped around his naked body. "You may feel
like you're a mess, but you're stronger than most, okay? Just think
about the guys who Coach might target who aren't as brave. Who would
just feel like they have to go along with it, because they don't have
a choice. You're doing it for them."

Tommy had groaned into Andrews neck then, knowing everything the
swimmer had told him was true but still not really wanting to hear it.
"You couldn't just have told me to quit the team, never see him again,
and be done with it?" he groused.

Andrews chuckled, and Tommy felt a hand slip down his spine to
eventually grip his ass. "And miss seeing this in a swimsuit? No way."

"I can dress up for you any time you like," Tommy countered. Andrews
shook his head in mock-exasperation.

"You can stop complaining, that's what you can do." He laughed again.
"Anyway, I suspect Darren would just about explode if he didn't get to
see his grand scheme put into action."

That might well be true, Tommy considered as he pushed his way through
the swing doors into the men's locker rooms, but it wasn't Darren
walking into the belly of the beast, was it. He resisted the urge to
check his phone again, where the most recent message, he knew, was
going to be his friend's confirmation that he was right where he was
meant to be.

After twisting in the combination to his locker, Tommy began to
undress. First his t-shirt, feeling his nipples harden at the chill of
the room, and then - after kicking off his sneakers - tugging his
jeans down his thighs. Without really thinking about it that morning,
he'd put on a pair of the briefs Andrews had picked for him. It was
still a surprise to see the bright waistband clinging to his hips.

Pushing them off, he reached for his swimsuit. The fabric was still a
little damp from when he'd last rinsed it out, clinging and cool as he
dragged it up his legs. Tommy had long got over any sense of
self-consciousness at a competitive suit's briefness, which made the
unexpected trickle of doubt he felt all the more unusual. Suddenly
this wasn't just a functional piece of clothing.

It was bait.

Turning, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror on
the locker room wall, and stopped. Running a critical eye over his
body, he tried to see what someone else - what, specifically, Coach
Collins - might see.

Average height, with a narrow waist and broadening shoulders. The
smooth ripples of muscles running down his stomach, converging on the
bright scrap of nylon from which thick, powerful thighs emerged.
Catching his own eye, though, he saw a childlike vulnerability that
was at odds with the adult body. All he could do would be to embrace
that doubt, that uncertainty, and hope they made the plan all that
more effective.

The next step was out of his hands, anyway: the only thing left for
Tommy was to wait. By the time he heard the squeak of the door
swinging open, the anticipation had him squeezing his fists with
tension.

"You're early for practice, Tommy." Coach Collins' voice was low and
casual, as he appeared around the corner of the lockers. He'd spoken
before he'd even seen the young swimmer, as though he'd known
beforehand that he was here in the room.

Of course, that's because he already did.

"Uh... hi coach," Tommy stuttered. He wished the nervous edge in his
voice was all an affectation, but in reality just being in the same
room as Collins was enough to trigger the "runaway" part of his
fight-or-flight response. The older man's casually predatory smile did
nothing to reassure him.

"Come for some extra training?" The words might be innocent, but the
message behind them was anything but. Tommy felt the hot rake of
Collins' gaze travel up and down his body like he was so much meat on
display. He forced himself not to draw himself in defensively; not to
cross his arms or take a step back.

As if reading his mind, Collins closed the gap between them. Tommy
could smell the man's cologne, feel the heat radiating off him. As
Collins leaned in, his lips close to Tommy's ear, the swimmer couldn't
help but turn his head and lower his gaze.

"I just got a call from your friend and mine, Andrews," Coach
murmured. Tommy could hear the smirk in his tone. "He told me you were
here right now, in need of some... extra attention."

Tommy gulped, then gasped as he felt Collins' fingers brush up his
torso. "Coach, I... I don't..."

"Shhh," Collins shushed him. Tommy felt a hand grip the back of his
neck, as the older man pulled their bodies together. "We both know
what you're looking for, you little tease. We both know you want it."

Trying to pull back, Tommy felt the strength in the man's hold on him.
Bringing his hands up, palms flat against Collins' chest, he pushed
the pair of them apart.

"Please, Coach, I don't want..."

He was cut off by a palm across his mouth, Collins' fingers digging
into his jaw. Tommy whimpered as a sly hand roamed across the front of
his swimsuit, tracing the shape of his junk held inside. The man's
words might be delivered casually, but there was clear aggression in
his body language.

"Stop. I don't want to hear it. What did I tell you about pretending
you weren't asking for this? Parading round like some little street
hooker, begging to get screwed. Well if you put up the advert, don't
be surprised when someone wants the goods."

With a shove, Collins pushed Tommy back. He stumbled on his heels,
until his back hit a wall of lockers. Cold metal against his
shoulder-blades. The clang of his impact echoed in the deserted room.

"Don't do this, Coach, please," he tried again. Collins shook his
head, a cold smile stretching across his face.

"Y'know, I think I actually prefer it when you little pussy-boys try
to fight back. It makes that moment when I'm balls-deep in your ass
all the more rewarding."

Again, a strong hand on Tommy's face, this time forcing him down to
his knees. He couldn't help but moan as he felt the linoleum under his
legs, muffled a moment later as Collins yanked his face into the
crotch of his sweatpants. Tommy could feel the thick hardness of the
man's erection stretched across his hip.

Still holding Tommy in his crouch, Collins tugged down the elastic
waistband and pulled his dick free. Gripping it around the base, he
slapped the hot inches against Tommy's cheeks.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about," Coach gurgled, staring down at
Tommy's frightened eyes. "Nothing quite like seeing a pretty, eighteen
year-old little pussy-boy getting the man's cock he needs. And I'm
telling you, I've had plenty of you over the years, but I think that
slutty deer-in-the-headlights look of yours might be my favorite of
all."

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but Collins pushed his advantage,
jabbing the thick head of his erection between the youth's lips.
Choking and drooling, there was nothing Tommy could do as Collins
pushed himself further into his gullet. Even with his hands braced
against the Coach's thighs, he didn't have the strength to fend him
off.

"You're gonna get it good and wet, and then I'm gonna bust open your
ass, you little bitch," Collins sneered, chuckling.

"Get the hell away from him!"

Even if Tommy couldn't turn his head as Collins' snapped around at the
new voice, he knew exactly what the man would see. Sure enough, when
Coach yanked his dick from out of the young swimmer's throat and took
a stumbling step back, through his gasping and coughing he could see,
eyes blurry, Darren standing across the room.

"Who the fuck are you?" Collins barked, looking furious. "This little
pussy's boyfriend?"

Darren's voice was impressively steady, Tommy thought, as he
brandished his cellphone in front of him. "No, I'm his best friend.
And I just filmed you raping him."

Collins looked down at the phone, scowling at the lens. "You think you
can threaten me? Some scrawny little freshman shit, and I'm meant to
be shaking in my fucking boots? I rule this place, you little prick."

Darren shook his head. "Not any more, you don't. Not when the whole
administration sees this video. I'm pretty sure they're not going to
be happy when they hear everything you just said about raping guys on
the team."

The expression of rage on the Coach's face was approaching meltdown,
Tommy thought. Collins took a step forward, closer to Darren. His
voice, when he spoke, was as cold and dangerous as a blade.

"Give me that fucking camera, you little shit, and I might just break
your legs and not your skinny neck."

The threat sounded real enough to Tommy, and suddenly the danger he
and Darren had put themselves in was crystal clear. Just what would
Collins do to stop word of his extracurricular activities getting out?
Physical violence didn't seem like too far-fetched a possibility.

Darren, though, stood his ground. "I'm filming all this now. Every
threat. Every sick thing you did to Tommy. And it's all going online,
too. Even if you smashed my phone up, you couldn't delete the video."

Fists clenching furiously, Collins paused, clearly thinking.
Eventually, when he spoke, Tommy could tell that he was trying to keep
his anger tamped down.

"Okay, so what do you want? Money? Hell, I can make sure you both get
a 4.0 every year until you leave this fucking place. What's it gonna
cost me?"

The expression that had grown on Darren's face was bordering on
delight, Tommy decided. His friend was enjoying this, he realized,
having this jock bully pretty much begging for his career.

"Oh no," Darren said, a thread of iron emerging into his voice, "it's
too late for that." Tommy blinked. This... this wasn't the plan.

Lifting the phone to focus on Collins' face, Darren took a half-step
forward. "This is going straight to the dean right now. We're not
blackmailing you. We're sending you to jail, you pervert."

Horror flooded Tommy's body like an ice bath plunge. What did Darren
think he was doing? The plan - Darren's own plan! - had been to
confront Coach with the recording and force him to transfer away. Quit
his job and stop targeting the freshmen on the swim team. But this...
this wasn't what they'd talked about!

And now, Collins had gone from threatened animal to a guy with very
little to lose.

Maybe Darren realized that at the same moment, because for the first
time a look of uncertainty crossed his face. Backing off, his phone
still held out as though it was a shield, he looked up as Collins
loomed over him.

"You've fucked everything up," the furious man hissed, "and I should
break your fucking face."

Now Darren's expression showed the horror Tommy himself was feeling.
When Collins struck out, just the impact on his shoulder was enough to
send his skinny, gangly body spinning into a row of lockers. Darren
slumped to the floor, mouth agape as he watched six-foot-something of
vengeful coach stalk over to him.

Puling himself up, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him, Tommy ran
straight into Collins' side. Even as the coach went stumbling, though,
a kick of his arm knocked Tommy to one side, his bare feet skidding
out from under him.

Staring down at Darren's frightened body, Collins spared the freshman
a callous grin. "Y'know, kicking the shit out of your ugly face might
turn out to be more fun than screwing your friend over there. And
since I'm gonna do both, it's a shame you'll be unconscious so I can't
tell you which I pre..."

A fist ended Collins' rant, Andrews' punch to the side of his head
sending the coach's jaw ricocheting. Then the older swimmer was on
him, the two of them bouncing against the lockers hard enough to dent
them, before falling to the floor in a scrabbling heap.

"Andrews!" Tommy cried out, unable to stop himself. His friend was
pulling his arm back for another punch, when Collins shoved him away.
Spitting blood, Coach looked at his star swimmer with naked fury.

"Tommy, Darren, get up and behind me," Andrews instructed, pushing
himself to his feet. The boys scrambled up, Darren still holding the
camera out to keep Collins in frame. Standing himself, Coach fingered
his jaw gingerly.

"You think I can't take you too, Andrews?" he taunted. "You might
think this is impressing this pair of little pansies, but I can put
you down just as easily as I can them."

Andrews was breathing heavily, fists held out as though expecting
Collins to charge at any moment. Not, Tommy thought, that it was such
an unlikely possibility.

"You can try, you creep," Andrews told him, voice hard with resolve.

Whatever Collins might have had in mind, though, wasn't to be. "Step
away from those boys," came the instruction from across the room, calm
but no less determined. As Tommy watched, four campus security guards
stepped into the space, all with tasers drawn and clearly leveled at
the angry coach's chest. "This is over, Collins, and you've got some
serious explaining to do."

Tommy suddenly found himself desperately eager to see several thousand
volts of electricity jerking through his coach's body, but Collins had
apparently decided that the game was up. Lifting his hands in defeat,
he took the demanded steps back from the trio.

"Turn around and cross your hands behind your back," the guard
demanded. Casting a hate-filled look at Tommy, Collins slowly
complied. It was only when he heard the snap of the zip-ties around
the man's wrists that Tommy felt like he could let out the lungful of
air he'd been holding.

"We're going to need statements, from all of you," the guard told
Tommy, Andrews, and Darren as his colleagues led the disgraced staff
member out of the locker room. "Are you okay?"

Andrews looked down at his fist, where beads of blood were oozing from
knuckles now in angry shades of purple and red. "I might need some
ice," he conceded. The guard smiled, knowingly.

"You may have broken his jaw," he commented, though there was no
reproach in his tone. Turning to Darren, he held out his hand. "I'll
need that phone, too, please. Evidence." Darren passed it over.

"As soon as the dean saw what was happening, and where, he called us
in," the guard explained. "You're lucky that message you sent him
didn't go straight to his spam folder."

Darren's face fell, and for a moment Tommy thought his friend was
going to be violently sick.

"I didn't even... oh god, I didn't even think of that."

The security guard nodded, then reached for his belt as his radio
crackled. "I'm going to get this bastard processed. Like I said, don't
go too far away the next few days, I'm going to need to talk to all of
you, okay?"

He was hardly out of the room before Andrews spun around and pulled
Tommy into a tight squeeze. The young swimmer found his whole body was
shaking as the strong, familiar arms held him. Then the tears started.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all this," Andrews whispered,
mouth brushing Tommy's ear. "You've been so brave, but it's all over
now, I promise."

Tommy sniffed, then pulled back slightly, so he could look over at his
friend. "Dude, that wasn't the plan we talked about."

Darren had the good grace to at least look mildly reproachful. "I
know. And I know you just wanted to get that bastard off the campus.
But I couldn't stop thinking about him walking into another school and
getting a new job, and suddenly having a whole new group of people to
abuse. I know this wasn't what we agreed, but I... I just couldn't
live with myself."

As he listened to the explanation, Tommy couldn't argue with any of
it. Andrews' hand stroked gently down his back as the older youth
commented.

"He's right. It would've been too easy for Collins to just transfer
elsewhere and nothing would've changed. I think this is going to get
ugly, and awkward, before it gets better, but in the long run it
needed to be done."

A look of thanks passed between Andrews and Darren, and then the
swimmer was holding out his arm, and Tommy felt his friend join the
embrace. He had to admit, it felt good to be pressed against his
friends: safe, somehow, and warm.

"Thank you," he whispered, suddenly feeling terribly tired. Andrews
kissed his forehead, and Darren grinned.

"Dude, your boyfriend is a bad-ass. Did you see that punch? That
fucker didn't know what hit him."

Somehow it was enough to break the somber mood, and all three of them
found themselves first giggling and then outright laughing. Tommy
touched Andrews' knuckles cautiously, pulling his fingers back when he
saw the older youth's wince.

"You need to put some ice on that," he told him, "and I need to get dressed."

"There's ice in the kit room," Andrews commented. "I'm gonna go find
it, and I'll meet you guys outside, okay?"

They nodded in reply as he left, the squeaking doors swinging closed
behind him. Tommy walked slowly to his locker, Darren following a few
paces behind.

"Are you mad at me?" It was the most uncertain Tommy could remember
his best friend ever sounding. Pulling his clothes out, he glanced
back over his shoulder.

"For changing the plan? No. For almost getting yourself killed as a
result? That I'm a bit annoyed about, I gotta say."

Darren shrugged awkwardly, as Tommy pushed down his swimsuit and then
stepped into his briefs. "I hated watching what he... did to you."

Tommy paused, suddenly unable to look at his friend in the eye. "I
hate that you had to see it." Suddenly his throat felt thick, and it
was hard to make the words come out. "You don't... you don't think
less of me because... because of what I did?"

Darren's hand on his bicep pulled him around, and then his friend's
arms were wrapped around him, their bodies crushed together in a
fierce hug.

"Never, dude," Darren whispered. "I think you're a fucking hero, okay."

Tommy could feel the tears slowly trickling down his cheeks, as he
returned the hug. For a minute they stood there, until he cleared his
throat.

"Um, maybe I could get dressed now?"

Giggling, Darren released him. "Sure, I was wondering when you might
put some pants on. And don't think I didn't notice those party undies,
dude." He grinned, knowingly. "Let me guess..."

"Andrews," they chorused in unison, and then they were both laughing.
Tommy finished pulling on his clothes, and shut his locker.

"I'm gonna make him give you some style lessons," Tommy teased. Darren
held up his fists and struck a fighting pose.

"And self-defense lessons, too!" They laughed again. "You've got a
superhero for a boyfriend."

Tommy looked at him. He always knew that Darren wasn't really
prejudiced, not deep down, but this wholehearted enthusiasm about him
being with a guy was still a surprise.

"I don't..." he started, thought a moment, then began again. "I don't
know if he's my boyfriend." Darren rolled his eyes in response.

"Well he should be. Jesus, dude, if you don't take him I might have to
snag him myself. I'm telling you, a fucking superhero."

---

Never mind super-powers, Tommy was worrying about more mundane things
when he bounced nervously from one foot to the other outside Andrews'
door that evening. Darren's comments had stuck in his head long after
his best friend had walked him to his dorm room - refusing to listen
to his protests that he really didn't need to be chaperoned - and the
pair had agreed to get breakfast the next morning. Tommy had
eventually fallen asleep, but only after a long stretch of uncertainty
about just how Andrews thought about him, and for that matter how he
thought about Andrews.

Rather than sending him a message - and after tapping out and
deleting, unsent, numerous failed attempts - in the end he'd decided
to just go over and talk to him in person. Hence standing awkwardly
outside the door, as footsteps approached from the other side.

Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't the sheer degree of concern in
Andrews' expression when he opened the door. Worry radiated off the
older swimmer in waves. When he pulled Tommy in for a tight hug, it
was almost a relief not to have to see that emotion any more.

"I'm so glad you came," Andrews told him, drawing him into the room
and closing the door behind him. Tommy sat on the edge of the bed,
rehearsing what he wanted to say, to ask.

He was clearly distracted, as Andrews had to repeat his question. "Did
you sleep?" Tommy nodded. "That's good. I got a call from the dean's
office, they want me to go in tomorrow. I'm guessing they're going to
want to know why I was there at that time."

Suddenly that was the question top of Tommy's list, too. "Why were you
there, though? That wasn't in the plan. You were meant to call Coach
Collins and tell him I was in the locker room all alone, and then
leave the rest to Darren and I."

Andrews looked down at his feet, and then sat down heavily in his desk
chair. When he glanced back up at Tommy, the youth could see the blush
of red across his friend's cheeks.

"I know. But I couldn't stay away. The thought of you being there with
him, and something maybe happening... it was driving me crazy. So I
had to come."

Tommy stared. This tongue-tied, less-than-confident Andrews was new to him.

"Well, I'm glad you were. You saved me. Both of us."

A cloud passed over Andrews' expression. "I wanted to kill him," he
confessed. Tommy shrugged, awkwardly.

"You and Darren both, I think."

The older swimmer shook his head. "No, I mean it. I really wanted to
kill that bastard. For what he did to you. To so many guys on the
team."

Tumblers clicked into place in Tommy's head. "And... to you?"

Andrews looked down again, unable to meet Tommy's gaze. "Yeah, when I
was a freshman. I don't know if he recognized something in me that
said I liked guys, or if it was just all a coincidence, but he singled
me out pretty early on."

"Why didn't you tell anybody?"

The sigh was long, and deep, and spoke volumes about ill-healed
traumas. "My dick got hard. I mean the first time, even though I was
terrified, I got hard when... when he did it. I hated it, but my body
reacted. And he said that if I told someone, anyone, they'd know that
I enjoyed it all and I'd probably get kicked out of school or
something."

It was, Tommy realized, all too similar to his own confusion and
uncertainty after his body had responded to Collins' unwelcome
advances. Only he'd had Andrews to talk to about it. Andrews had
nobody.

"Someone really wise told me not long ago that your dick is basically
an animal. If someone gives it attention, it'll react on its own. But
that doesn't mean you wanted it, or asked for it."

Tommy wasn't sure that Andrews recognized his own advice at first,
until the older youth looked up at him. His lips were curved into a
small, sad smile.

"That does seem like pretty wise advice," he conceded. Tommy smiled back at him.

"Yeah, most of the time this guy is full of shit, but sometimes he
gets it right." He giggled at Andrews' raised eyebrow. "Look, come
over here and hold me, okay?"

It only took seconds for Andrews to be across the room, and the two of
them coiled together on the bed. Tommy ran his thumb across Andrews'
cheekbone, engrossed in the swimmer's features.

"I like boys too," he told him, eventually.

Andrews nodded minutely. "Okay."

"I really like you," Tommy admitted. "I mean, I really, really like you."

Another nod. "Okay."

Tommy frowned, exasperated. "Is that it, just "okay" is all I get?"

"I'm pretty sure I already told you that I was interested, no?"
Andrews pointed out. "The big question was whether you were or not."

Sighing, Tommy leaned in and rested his forehead against Andrews'. "I
don't think there's much question about that any more. I mean, if
you're still..."

Andrews smiled. "I'm still."

"Me too," Tommy muttered, the exertions of the day suddenly catching
up with him, and crashing over him in waves. "Me too."

He slept in Andrews' arms.

---

The buzzing of the phone in his pocket woke him. Carefully sliding it
out, trying not to wake Andrews who - sometime in the night - had
rolled onto his back next to him on the bed, he opened the message.

"Where are you? We were meant to have breakfast."

Crap. Darren.

"I'm with Andrews," he punched in, along with the address. "Come over
and we'll all eat."

The whoosh of the message sending saw Andrews frowning, eyes still
closed. "Phone already blowing up, I see," he observed. Tommy pushed
the handset back into his pocket, and snaked his arm across Andrews'
chest.

"Darren. We were meant to be having breakfast, but I told him to come
over here."

Andrews opened his eyes, turning his head to look at Tommy alongside him.

"You fell asleep," he observed. Tommy stuck out his tongue in response.

"So did you."

"This is true. I didn't realize I was so tired."

Tommy slid his hand down Andrews' chest, until his palm was pressed
against the older youth's crotch.

"Are you still tired now?" When Andrews glanced over, he raised an
eyebrow at Tommy's smirk. "Because it feels like you've woken up to
me."

Pushing himself up on his elbow, Tommy slipped his leg over one of
Andrews', who responded by reaching down and pulling the swimmer until
he was sat astride his waist.

Tommy dipped down, pressing their lips together. "Morning breath,"
Andrews warned, but Tommy only shrugged, not breaking the kiss.

Finally he sat upright, peeling off his top and throwing it behind
him, before unbuttoning Andrews' shirt. Fingertips stroked down the
firm ridges of muscle.

"Darren thinks you're a superhero," he commented, "I almost think he
has a crush on you." Andrews chuckled, reaching for the button on
Tommy's jeans.

"How fast does he walk? Because maybe I have some super-powers I still
haven't shown you."

Pushing himself up, Tommy let Andrews ease his jeans and briefs down
his hips, then kicked them off the remaining way. Andrews lifted his
own hips, shedding clothes until he too was naked. Tommy took a moment
to admire the full, beautiful extent of him, before pressing their
bodies together once more.

"I think we have time," he observed, wriggling his hips as Andrews'
hard cock nestled in-between his cheeks.

"Oh, we'd better," Andrews shot back, wrapping his fingers around
Tommy's erection.

Flexing his thighs, Tommy started grinding on Andrews' lap, feeling
the hard ridge of the older youth's cock brush against his hole.
"Lube?" he demanded, grinning. Andrews nodded at the nightstand, and
Tommy leaned over to pull out the drawer. There were quite a few
bottles in there, not to mention a stack of condoms. "Aren't you
prepared," Tommy observed.

"Shut up," Andrews laughed back, then gasped as Tommy's lubed-up hand
closed around his balls. Reaching back, behind himself, the teen
swimmer let his fingers slip down into the crack of his lover's ass,
until the tips grazed his tight opening.

"I can't put this on you backwards," Tommy told him, holding up a
condom. Andrews winked, ripping open the packet. Eventually, Tommy
switched his slippery grip to the eager hardness that was nudging at
his hole. "Gimme a second, jeez," he complained, with
mock-seriousness.

As Andrews watched, Tommy pushed a finger into his ass, then a second.
Teeth clenched, he worked over the gradually yielding flesh, shivering
all the while from Andrews' twisting his fist around Tommy's own
erection.

Eventually, Tommy reached behind and grabbed the thick shaft that was
bobbing at the small of his back. Eyes squeezed closed, he raised his
hips and aimed it at his hole, before bearing down on Andrews.

It took all Andrews' restraint not to pump his hips up, as Tommy made
his agonizing descent. One hand still working on Tommy's cock, the
other gripping the youth's hip, he forced himself to wait as, inch by
inch, his young friend impaled himself. His eyes instinctively rolled
back as Tommy bottomed out, his hips making small, circular motions.

"Fuck, you're so big," Tommy muttered, back arched and thighs clenched
at the sensations radiating out from his well-filled hole. "Just...
just don't move, okay."

Andrews fought the natural urge to thrust, distracting himself by
running his fingertips along Tommy's inner-thighs. The skin there was
so soft, so smooth. If he could've contorted his body that way, he'd
have licked every inch of it.

All thought of that was wiped away when Tommy gradually lifted
himself, just an inch or two, and then sat back down. The heat, the
grip around Andrews' shaft was indescribable. A low moan began deep in
Tommy's chest, as his movements got more and more pronounced; the
flexing of his thighs raising him higher and higher with each stroke.

By the time he was gasping "oh god, fuck me," Andrews was more than
ready to oblige. Fingers digging into Tommy's flanks, he pulled the
teen down hard, driving his cock as deep as possible. Eventually Tommy
was bouncing eagerly, his cock flicking precum between his thighs and
across Andrews' chest.

Sitting up, Andrews slipped his hands under Tommy's armpits, reaching
to grip his shoulders from behind. Now, he could really press the
flushing youth down onto his dick, feeling Tommy's erection grinding
between their abs.

"Hold your ass open," he instructed, and Tommy didn't hesitate,
reaching down to pull his cheeks even further apart. Something primal
and urgent left Andrews desperate to bury as much of himself inside
his lover as possible, even though he knew there was nothing more left
to give. "Fuck, fuck."

Twisting, he rolled Tommy onto his back on the bed, the teen's legs
automatically wrapping around his waist. Lifting himself up on his
arms, as though he was doing push-ups, he ground his hips down. With
each stroke he felt the pull of Tommy's ass around the head of his
cock, almost breaking free before driving back inside.

Reaching to grab underneath Tommy's knees, he pulled his legs up,
twisting him until his butt was fully elevated and his spine a curve.
"Oh fuck, yes," the young swimmer whimpered, the position perfect for
Andrews to take full control, his groin slapping hard against the
pinned youth.

Underneath him, Tommy grabbed his painfully-stiff dick, jerking it
eagerly in time with each of Andrews' thrusts. Waves of pleasure were
radiating out from his prostate, mingled with the repeat stretching of
his ass that landed just on the pleasurable side of discomfort. He
could feel his own climax rising, only encouraged by the sight of
Andrews' single-mindedness as he bore down on him.

"Oh crap, oh..." Tommy managed to gasp, before his cock erupted. Hot
splashes of cum landed across his face, striping his features before
oozing down his cheeks. Body on autopilot, his tongue flicked out to
run across his glistening lips.

"Holy fuck that's so hot," Andrews groaned, the sight enough to tip
him over the edge. Buried deep inside Tommy's ass, his dick jolted as
he emptied himself.

For a minute the two of them were a tableau, Tommy coiled underneath
Andrews' gently shuddering body, before the older swimmer sat up and
carefully unbent his teen lover. Tommy's whole torso was blushing
bright red.

"That was... oh my god," he managed, rubbing his forearm across his
eyes. "I thought you were gonna fold me in two."

Andrews chuckled. "What, and teach you how to suck your own dick? Then
you'd never leave your dorm room."

Tommy probed his slick face with his fingertips. "Fuck, I'd probably
drown myself if I wasn't careful." Holding out a cum-smeared finger,
he wagged it at Andrews. "Look at the mess you made me make."

Grabbing Tommy's wrist, Andrews pulled the outstretched digit to his
lips. Slowly, he licked his way along its length.

"Fuck," Tommy said, wondering if he was about to set a new personal
record for readiness to go for a second round.

"You taste real good," Andrews observed, dipping low to deliver the
verdict right next to Tommy's ear. "I could get used to it."

Any suggestion of more, though, was interrupted by a knock on the
door. Tommy groaned.

"Just for once I'd like people to not walk in on me here with cum all
over my face."

Andrews chuckled, then slipped off the bed and reached for the door
handle. "Well, he's not actually walked in yet. Want me to...?"

"No!" Tommy protested, trying his best to get up with legs that had
been fucked into disobedient stiffness. "Don't you dare."

"Um, guys," Darren's voice came through the closed door, "y'know I can
hear you in there, right?"

Grinning as he pulled a towel around his waist, Andrews flicked the
catch on the door and yanked it open. Tommy squealed, spinning round
so that his back was to a very confused-looking Darren.

"Did I come at a bad time?" he asked, looking between Tommy's bare
back and Andrews' broad smile. Tommy muttered a near-silent curse on
his lover's ancestors under his breath.

"Not at all," Andrews observed, "in fact you could say Tommy did just
the same..."

"Ah!" Tommy interrupted, not liking at all where Andrews' innuendo was
going. "Yes, thank you, okay. God. No, Darren, we just lost track of
time."

Darren had decided that fixing his attention on a point on the wall
somewhere directly across the room was easier than trying not to take
in Tommy's naked ass or Andrews' impressively sculpted torso. "Okay,
great, well... I guess..."

"Oh shit," Tommy realized. "Yes... Andrews, this is my best friend
Darren. Darren, this is..."

Andrews held out his hand. "...Tommy's boyfriend," he completed,
winking at Darren. "Pleased to finally meet you. Properly, I mean."

Nodding, and looking a little overwhelmed, Darren shook the proffered
hand until he realized he'd been doing so for several seconds longer
than would be normal. "I..." he started, then gulped. Took a deep
breath. "I wanted to thank you. For saving me, I mean."

Now it was Andrews' turn to look embarrassed. "Oh, well, don't worry
about it," he downplayed, a note of awkwardness in his voice. Darren,
though, shook his head.

"I mean it. I don't know what would've happened to me if you hadn't
been there. To both of us."

Andrews looked across at Tommy, who had half-turned to watch the
interaction, and then down at the floor, momentarily lost for words.
Darren, though, had clearly decided what came next. Taking a quick
step forward, he wrapped his arms around the older youth in an
unexpected hug.

"Thank you," he whispered. Andrews gently rubbed him on the back,
still stuck for what to say.

When Darren pulled back, a little self-consciousness visible in his
expression, it was like he was seeing Tommy for the first time. "Um,
dude, why are you standing there naked? His eyes flicked down, and
then back up to Tommy's face. "And your face, is that... oh come on,
dude."

"Don't. Say. A. Word." Tommy hissed out. Andrews, though, just laughed.

"I'm going to shower. Tommy, you're welcome to join me, that is unless
you'd rather explain to Darren exactly how all that happened?"

The expression on Tommy's face suggested that was far, far from high
on his list of priorities right now. In fact, if looks could kill...

"Okay, okay," Andrews conceded, holding up placatory hands. "Shower it
is. We won't be a minute, Darren, okay?"

Stifling a giggle as Tommy attempted to crab-step across the room and
not expose himself fully, Darren nodded. "Sure, take your time. Oh and
Tommy, it's nothing I haven't seen before, remember? Well, maybe not
the glazed version." That was it, the half-controlled giggles turned
to full-on laughter.

"I'm going to kill you," Tommy grumbled at Andrews as he dashed past
him, into the bathroom.

Winking at Darren, Andrews pulled the door shut.

---

"I'm starting to think you enjoy watching me get embarrassed after we
have sex," Tommy complained as he and Andrews traded time under the
hot water.

"Oh, absolutely. I get off on it," Andrews replied, using his thumb to
wipe a lingering smear of cum from the younger man's cheekbone.
"Seriously, you should've seen the look on your face. I thought Darren
was going to sprain something, he was laughing so hard."

Tommy rolled his eyes, scowling. "You're sick, you know that?"

Nodding, and with a smug grin clearly evident, Andrews made no attempt
to dispute the fact. Instead, he slipped a wet hand down the arch of
Tommy's spine, until his fingertips were trailing in-between the
youth's buttocks.

"Sick, but very conscientious about getting you clean."

Tommy gasped as the finger pushed into his hole, soap and lube leaving
little resistance. Rising up on his tiptoes in the flood of water, he
felt Andrews grind against the still-sensitive nub of his prostate.

"Oh god, no, we can't," he protested, weakly. "Darren is out there."

Andrews' smirk was devilish. "I thought you were becoming a little
exhibitionist?"

Wrapping his arms around Andrews' neck, Tommy's body shuddered as a
second, sly finger joined the first. Against his better judgment he
was already humping against Andrews' leg, rubbing his rapidly-swelling
cock along his lover's thigh.

"You started this," he whispered, voice hoarse with lust, into
Andrews' ear. "You get to finish it."

No further encouragement was apparently required, as with a wink
Andrews dropped to his knees. For a moment he ran his lips along the
sides of Tommy's shaft, but then it was slipping into his mouth, inch
after inch until the youth could feel the tip of his prick lodged in
the older swimmer's throat.

"Oh crap, yes." Eyes squeezed shut, Tommy held onto Andrews' head with
one hand while gripping the shower door with the other, trying to stay
upright as a hot, eager tongue did its level best to coax him to a
second climax. All the while, Andrews' fingers were pushing deep into
his twitching ass, sensing waves of pleasure through his groin and up
his spine.

Pulling off for a moment, his fist jerking the spit-slicked cock,
Andrews looked up. "Want me to call Darren in to watch?" Tommy cursed,
forcing his erection back into Andrews' mouth not least to shut him
up.

It was the push of Andrews' thumb on the swollen muscle under Tommy's
balls that brought things to a messy end. Choking down a cry, he sent
splash after splash of cum into Andrews' eagerly gulping throat, each
jolt punctuated with a rough jab of his prostate.

In moments the wave of delicious pleasure toppled over into
unfathomable hypersensitivity, and it was all Tommy could do not to
jump off the still-delving fingers inside him. Eventually, Andrews
took pity on his writhing body and slipped them free, before sitting
back and looking up with an expression of clear satisfaction.

"I'd ask if you know how good you taste, but I know you already do,"
Andrews observed.

Breathing deeply, Tommy shook his head in mock-exasperation. "Aren't I
meant to be the horny teen? I thought you older guys were meant to
have more restraint."

Standing up from his crouch, Andrews twisted in the spray. Reaching
for the soap, he slapped playfully at Tommy's deflating cock, sending
it flopping and bobbing.

"Guess that's something you'll just have to get used to," he observed.

Tommy fixed him with a stare. "You mean now that we're apparently
"official" boyfriends, right?"

It was Andrews' turn to freeze. For a moment the only sound in the
room was the splash of water on tiles. Then, he smiled. A quiet,
almost shy smile. "Boyfriends sounds pretty good to me," he observed,
all the boisterous bravado of the moment before gone. "If, that is..."

Another pause. And then, Tommy again slipped an arm around his lover's
neck, and brought his face in for a kiss that, though far more chaste
than many they'd shared, somehow felt the most loaded of them all.

"It absolutely, definitely is."


============

I always think it's just as important to know where to leave a story
as it is knowing where to start it. So I hope you'll agree with me
that this feels like a good place to let Tommy and Andrews get on with
their fledgling relationship, while we'll move on to the next story.

If you loved it, let me know. If you hated it... well, let me know
that too. If you want to support my writing, the best way to do that
is to buy one of my two published books: details on those are at
http://www.alexpendragon.com/

Meanwhile, you can find me at alexp336@gmail.com and at
http://dirtyanon.tumblr.com/