Let Me Lead

Coach lets the whistle loose and I hear much of the team groan. He’s on the warpath today and he isn’t sparing anyone. He marches across the field to the line of scrimmage. “What the hell in God’s name are you all doing?” he yells.

The team stays silent, a response to the question not coming to any of us. “This is Division 1 football! Not a Wednesday afternoon at peewee practice! I don’t know where all of you are today, but you’re playing like shit!”

Silence rings across the field, a high-pitched squeal only the team can hear. We all know he’s right. Shit would actually be playing better than we all are right now. Dropped passes, Swiss cheese offensive line, lousy rushes, and piss poor kicks. I’m also in that mix thanks to a fumble and some way off throws.

Coach glares at each and every one of us to get his point across, a hardened look that sends chills down to my ass. He tucks his clipboard under his arm. “Practice is over,” he says, starting to turn away from us. “Get your sorry asses to the showers and get them back in gear before next week’s practice. You’re all damn lucky we have the week off so no one can see such a pathetic excuse for a football team.”

He walks off, leaving us all rooted to the turf. His words sting, but we know he’s right. We slowly make our way to the locker room. While normally it would be filled with loud and boisterous laughter and comments, today it’s nearly silent, safe for the shuffling of feet and closing of lockers.

It’s hard to come to terms with knowing you and your teammates aren’t playing up to the standard you normally do. Coach made that clear to all of us. For me personally, I’m playing like crap because what happened with Declan in class is still playing on a constant loop in my head and distracting me.

Even though it’s already been more than a week since it happened and Declan and I seem to have returned to normalcy, I can’t stop thinking about it. What he showed me in that dance studio, having me hoist him high into the air and feeling my fingers press into his taught and muscled skin, felt so fucking right.

I’ve never even felt that kind of rush when I first threw a football. Those very few moments gave me the biggest adrenaline rush I had ever felt in my life. It was like being plunged into the deepest pool of ice water, a shock to the system, yet so invigorating and eye opening I want to do it again.

Sitting down on the bench, I begin to tie my shoes as the rest of the team begins to leave the locker room. A door opens from the other side of the locker room. “Williams,” Coach calls out. “My office when you’re done packing.”

He shuts the door and I exchange a few confused glances with my teammates. Finishing tying my shoes, I shove my bags into my locker and head for Coach’s office, knocking before I step in. Coach is sitting at his desk, as usual when I come in here, a pen pressed to some papers in front of him.

He glances up as I shut the door and gestures to the seat in front of him, which I ease myself in to. “Everything okay, Coach?” I ask.

He sighs to himself and sets his pen down. “No, Williams. Everything is not okay. My team isn’t the team I’m used to seeing. It feels like half of them aren’t even motivated to come to step on the field, let alone practice.”

Seeing Coach so dejected, his broad shoulders uncharacteristically slumped over, hits me hard. He puts in so much effort for this team, spending countless hours after everyone has left to create plays for us to use, vouching for each and every one of us when someone’s GPA falls below the requirement to play, and making sure we’re getting the best training we can get.

For the first time, he looks so uncertain. “I’m sorry, Coach,” I sympathetically say. “I’ve been a bit distracted lately with some personal stuff, and I’m afraid it might be reflecting on the team.”

Coach slips the ball cap off his head, running his fingers through the slightly thinning hair. “Anything that I could help with? I’m always willing to lend an ear to my players.”

I smile in thanks. “I appreciate it, but it’s nothing really pressing. I’m working on getting it all sorted out pretty soon.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but seems to let it go. “You didn’t knock some girl up, did you? Because I don’t want to have to repeat that conversation with all of you about-“

I hold my hand up, stopping him before a repeat of that awkward meeting with Coach, a lot of condoms, and several unfortunate bananas. “Nothing like that, sir. Just working some things out is all.”

He leans back in his chair and tosses his cap onto the desk. “I feel like I’m letting you all down when I see you all not playing at the level I know you’re fully capable of. It makes me wonder if I’m coaching you all right, giving you the motivation and making sure you all kick ass out there on the field.

“But after today, I need to think about if there’s anything else I could do to try and make it better. That’s why I called you in here, Williams. Do you think you have any suggestions?”

His words hit me slowly, each one packing the punch of a heavyweight champion. Knowing Coach is feeling so down because of something he hasn’t done makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit out there. “Coach Bless, you’re an awesome coach. I’m sure what you saw out there today was just a fluke and-“

“It’s not a fluke, Ash. This has been going for a few weeks now. I’ve been looking at the statistics sheets and have seen that nearly every starter has gone down in percentages. Second string and freshmen too. And I don’t understand it.”

He grabs the papers he was working on when I came in and slides them to me. Grabbing one, I see it’s a player report with the statistics of a few players on it. Sure enough, I see he’s right. Short rushes, failed blocks, dropped passes, hell the only thing that is being increased is sacks.

Looking over the other sheets, I see it’s the same for all of them. “Jesus…” I say as I set down the papers. “What the hell is happening?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out myself…”

I rise out of my chair. “Coach, I’m going to try and talk to some guys to see what their opinions are. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

I turn and leave the office before I can hear a response from him. Grabbing my bags and pulling my phone out, I leave the locker room as I type away at my screen.

‘Drop all of your plans for tonight. My house. Team meeting at 7. Anyone not there will get an ass kicking from yours truly.’

Hitting send, I secure my bags and begin my trek back to my house. The weather is starting to cool down in North Carolina, still comfortable, but the beginnings of fall starting to show in the mid-October weather. Thankfully Jeffrey cancelled his lecture for today, so I have the rest of the day to myself.

A buzz comes from my pocket. I pull it out expecting it to be a message from one of the guys, but I find the one person I didn’t want to talk to on the screen. Biting the bullet, I connect the call. “Yes?” I ask.

“I don’t need your attitude right now, Ash,” Dad says, his voice low. “Why haven’t I been getting any statistics from you or Coach Bless lately?”

Because you can suck a dick, that’s why. “Because they aren’t necessary for you to know, old man,” I say, not even trying to hide the venom in my voice.

“What the hell was that?”

“The statistics haven’t changed. So you don’t need to see them. I have work to do so-“

“I don’t care if they’ve changed or not!” he roars through the phone with a tone I’ve only heard a few times in my life. Damn near shattered my eardrum with that. “You’re going to send me your stats whether you like it or not!”

“It’s my decision to send you those stupid numbers!” I counter. “And Coach Bless is on my side with this, so you won’t get a damn thing from him either!”

Silence comes through the phone and I momentarily wonder if I accidently hung up on him. “You ungrateful little…!”

I take the opportunity to shove my phone in my pocket as Dad screams through the phone. Better let him get it out of his system rather than let him tear me down. Continuing on my walk, I hear the quiet rumble of Dad yelling come through my pocket. It takes a minute or two before he finally quiets down.

Reaching in, I press my phone to my ear, hearing quiet huffs come through the receiver. “Are we finished? Because I have a meeting I need to prepare for. Goodbye.”

I end the call and breathe a bit for a second. Don’t let him get to you, Ash. Don’t let him keep you under his thumb. Don’t let him control you like you’re his puppet. “Ash?”

Popping out of my thoughts, I look and see Declan standing not far from me, a bag on his exposed back. I take a moment to take a quick glance over his shirtless torso, the skin glistening in the midday sun. He huffs quietly, as though he just finished a jog. A sudden rush of blood flows through my body, and right to the place I didn’t want it to.

I adjust my own bag slightly to cover my front. “Declan, what’re you doing here?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant.

“I’m coming back from my class. It’s a nice day, so I decided to take a little jog along the way. Shouldn’t you be at practice right now?”

“Coach ended it early. Team was playing like shit. So now I have an entire day to myself.”

Declan stares at me for a moment. “Want to…come back to my place for a bit? I don’t have anything going right now either.”

The suddenness of the tightness in my chest throws me through a loop, the air around me becoming warmer and stiffer. Ash, calm down. He just invited you back to his place, which you’ve been at several times before. “Um…if you’re busy, don’t worry about it,” Declan says, glancing at the ground.

“No!” The amplitude of my voice causes him to jolt a bit. “I mean uh…coming over would be nice. If it’s not too much trouble.”

A shy smile comes to his face, making those green eyes of his shine just a bit brighter. “Not at all. C’mon, we’re not far.”

We walk in stride and I do my best not to look over at Declan. Thankfully the walk is short and we’re in Declan’s apartment in no time. “Go ahead and make yourself at home,” he says as he sets his bag down in his bedroom. “I just need to take a quick shower. Smell like a gym sock.”

He heads to the bathroom and I set my bag down as well. A low rumble rises up from my stomach and I press my hand to it. Need to eat something. Declan is probably hungry as well, seeing as he’s been in class for a while. I head into the kitchen and scour around, managing to find a can of tomato soup.

Tomato soup and grilled cheese sounds perfect. And thank god one of the workers at home managed to teach me how to make it when I was younger. I quickly get to work, throwing the sandwiches in a pan and getting the soup cooking. Hell, I could probably eat two sandwiches, but I don’t want to steal food from Declan.

The food cooks quickly and I serve them on the counter just as the bathroom door opens. “Damn, something smells good,” I hear Declan say.

“Yeah just-“ I glance up at Declan and nearly drop the plate I’m holding. It’s honestly my own fault, but I didn’t expect Declan to come out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a small towel. “Uh…I uh…just decided to make us something to eat. I’m starving. H-Hope that’s okay.”

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Damn it! The size of that towel should be illegal. It barely goes to his mid thigh, which helps to showcase the muscles and power his body carries, from the toned thighs and calves, to the broad shoulders leading to his tapered waist. “Uh…did you miss laundry day or something?” I ask.

He glances down at himself and I see color rising in his face. “Um…yeah, sorry about that. I meant to do it last night but fell asleep and this is all I have left. I’m going to go change really fast.”

He walks in the direction of his bedroom and shuts the door. As soon as it does, I feel my legs lose their strength. I have no idea what’s going on inside my head right now. But what I do know is that I am so fucked…

Taking a seat, I slowly start at the sandwich and soup, eating slow so Declan doesn’t eat by himself. A moment later, the bedroom door opens and he walks out, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and shorts. He takes a seat next to me and takes a bite of his grilled cheese, the bread making a satisfying crunch. “Thanks for doing this,” he says as he finishes his bite.

There are a few crumbs from the bread sitting at the corner of his mouth, right where his bow-shaped lip curls up slightly. Is that weird to notice? “You’re welcome,” I say, meeting his eyes. “How was your class?”

“It was good. It’s one of my smaller classes, so I was able to get a bit more one on one time with the students. Have you been practicing some of the steps and moves I’ve taught in class?”

“At night, yeah. They’re a good way to help unwind after a long day.”

He nods and drinks some of his soup. “So practice wasn’t good?”

I shake my head and follow his lead with the soup, welcoming the warm liquid. “It was god awful. I had a talk with Coach after it was all said and done and he told me he’s worried that he isn’t doing enough for the team, which I know is total bullshit.”

“Maybe this was just a bad day and-“

“It wasn’t just a single bad day. The team has been on a downward spiral for the last couple weeks. We may be winning our games, but we’re cutting it very close each and every time. Hell we nearly lost to Miami and they’re at the bottom of the ACC.”

Declan takes his bowl and chugs the rest of his soup. “And why do you think that is?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out later tonight. I have the whole team coming to my place for a meeting to talk about it.” He nods and pops the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. “Forget about that right now, though. I need to de-stress.”

Stepping back from the counter, I bend forward and grab the fronts of my shoes. “And how do you want to do that?” Declan asks.

“You’re in charge, Mr. Roth. I did really like that simple routine you showed the class last week though. Maybe we could try that?”

He stands up as well. “There isn’t exactly a lot of room in here. Last thing I want is for someone to get hurt.”

“Aside from my winning personality, I’m also very careful. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He rolls his eyes, but the corner of his lips curls up. “If you roll an ankle, it’s on you. Just shove some of the furniture out of the way.”

Moving the lounge chair, I open up the living room to give myself a bit more space. “Think you’re stretched enough?”

Reaching down, I grab my ankle and lift my leg up. “I would say so.” I set my leg back down. “You sure you’re not too tired after your class?”

“Not at all. I had plenty of rest while I was eating. Now c’mon, golden boy. Let’s see how your positions are coming along.”

And for the next couple hours, that’s all we do: dance and act like complete idiots around each other. And it’s the most fun I’ve had in a while. Declan shows me a couple of routines he choreographed for himself and a couple other dancers in his studio and even teaches me some of the moves.

By the time we decide to take a break, we’re both sweaty and collapsed on his couch. “What time is it?” I ask, gazing up at the ceiling.

Declan looks into his kitchen where the clock is mounted on the wall. “A little after five.”

“Oh shit. I need to get back to my place for my meeting.”

I quickly stand up off the couch, only for my legs to suddenly feel pretty heavy and forcing me to fall back onto the cushions. “Stood up too fast?” Declan asks, looking slightly amused with his quirked eyebrow.

“Maybe.” I don’t make an effort to stand up again, letting my body rest for a minute. “This was fun.”

“I’m glad it was. Some people I have classes with hate it as soon as they start. But when you find that one student that loves it with a passion and decides to pursue it, you know you’ve made a difference.”

The way his eyes shine as he tells me that makes me smile to myself. Glancing over at him, I quickly rake my eyes over Declan. From the exercise, his clothes are a touch damp with sweat, sticking to his lean and lithe frame and helping to accentuating every inch. I suddenly feel the need to swallow, but my mouth has lost all its moisture.

Before I have a chance to look away, Declan meets my gaze and we sit in silence, simply staring at each other. Nothing is said, but my brain is screaming a thousand different thoughts right now. His tongue flicks out the corner of his lip, wetting his bottom lip and causing a sudden tightness in my pants.

Breaking off the stare off, I lean forward in an attempt to hide the growing bulge. “So…I’m surprised you don’t have a girlfriend,” Declan says. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, my schedule doesn’t leave me enough time for that. Some guys can pull it off, but I’m too busy with practice and school to try and even think about it.”

Declan nods. He pushes himself out of the couch and holds his hand out to me. “C’mon, golden boy. You have a meeting and need a shower.” He pulls me up and hands me my bag. “I’ll text you a bit later to see how the meeting went.”

Grabbing my bag and exchanging a wave, I head out and start my walk to my place. If I wasn’t confused before my afternoon with Declan, the semi still in my pants is making it twice as bad.

----------------

Well after midnight, I collapse into my bed and bury my face in my pillow, groaning at the sweet pleasure of being on a soft mattress. Tonight’s meeting went as expected, a lot of pizza and talking, but I think the team is beginning to head in the right direction.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I find a couple unanswered texts from Declan on top of some texts from Dad. Immediately ignoring Dad’s, I open the words of encouragement from Declan.

‘If you need me to beat someone up for being a dick, I’m just a phone call away.’

Chuckling lightly, I quickly type out a response.

‘Meeting went well. Long, but productive. A lot of talking really did a lot of good.’

Hitting send, I see the text bubbles of him typing appear a moment later.

‘Glad to hear it. Definitely more productive than me…’

He sends a selfie of him sitting on his couch with a salad in his lap and a very disapproving look on his face. Smiling again, I message him again.

‘Midnight salad? Not the most exciting snack, but I guess it works.’

 ‘Took a long-ass nap earlier and missed dinner. Making up for it and planning for classes.’

‘Don’t want to keep you from that. Need to get some sleep myself, though. Team workout in the morning.’

‘I’ll bring a puke bucket if you need me. Goodnight, Ash. :)’

Wishing him goodnight as well, I go back to the selfie he took and stare at it. His face highlighted by the glow of his laptop, his upturned lip and scrunched eyes accentuating the dimples in his cheeks. Even making a stupid face like that, he’s just so…perfect…

A sudden text grabs my attention. Biting the bullet, I open up the text stream from Dad. Seven unanswered texts of him telling me to call him. It’s weird for him to be up so late. Normally his work forces him to be in bed before eleven. Finding his contact, I call his number.

He picks up a moment later. “About time you called,” he says in a disapproving tone.

“I had a team meeting. It ran long and I just finished cleaning up.” He makes a humph noise on his end of the line. “Why did you call?”

“What, a father can’t call to check in on his son?” I roll my eyes, knowing he’s never done that as long as I’ve been old enough to have a cell phone. “Especially after I was so rudely hung up on earlier today.”

Sitting up, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I apologize for my tone. Practice earlier today wasn’t so great and I’ve had-“

“Then why aren’t you in the gym making up for your practice?”

Excuse me? “Dad, it’s after midnight. The gym at school is closed.”

“The outdoor track is open. Five miles. Get to it.”

Tightening my grip on my phone, I feel my teeth grinding together. “I have class at 8 in the morning. Do you want to risk my GPA dropping and keeping me from playing?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Have I made myself clear?”

My leg bounces as my patience wears thin. “And if I say no?”

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening. A moment later, my phone buzzes with a text notification.

‘Mr. Williams, we would like to inform you that your checking account has been locked. Please contact your bank representative in order to discuss this matter.’

My stomach drops. “You didn’t,” I say.

“I did. And I can unlock it anytime I want. Don’t test me. And I have my ways to make sure you follow through with this. Now, go.”

The phone cuts off, my grip on it turning my knuckles white. Rather than chucking it across the room, I simply set it on my bed and slowly change into some workout gear. How can someone be so far away from you, and yet hold so much power over you?

Knowing my question has no answer waiting, I head off toward the outdoor track. Campus is completely dead at this hour, every other reasonable person either asleep or finishing up assignments. But not me. No, I have to go run twenty laps and make myself feel like garbage so I can get a shit night’s sleep before I have to go to class.

Reaching the track, I’m thankful the lights are at least still on. Stretching myself out a bit first, I soon fall into my jogging rhythm, the heavy metal music blasting through my ear buds matching my aggression. Completely alone in the middle of the night, my thoughts are the only thing keeping me company.

Why is everything I do not good enough for him? If he tells me to jump, I do, and he then tells me he wanted me to jump higher. I give him an inch of control, and he takes a mile. A parent should be nurturing their child, encouraging them, not breaking them down piece by piece in order to mold them into what you want them to be.

And even if he does get the result he wants, it still won’t be enough for him. There’s always something more he wants from me even when I have nothing more to give. My legs pump faster, my emotions causing me to stop myself from taking it easy.

I wipe the sweat off of my face, my fingers dabbing my eyes and clearing my vision for a moment. It takes longer than I would have liked, but twenty laps later I collapse onto the grass. My chest heaves with breath after breath as I press my hands to my eyes, biting my lip to try and keep myself from letting the dam finally break.

Glancing at my phone, I see it’s close to one in the morning. With a sigh, I lift myself up and brush off the dirt and grass stuck to my shirt before I start making my way back to the dorm. As much as I want to feel some sort of control over my life, at the moment all I feel is numb.

Eventually getting back home, I shuck off my sweat stained shirt and collapse onto my bed, not even caring how gross I must be. Exhaustion slowly begins to pull me to sleep, only for my brain to snap me back away. Fuck! I have assignments due in the morning!

Jumping out of bed, I fall to my desk and flip my laptop open, finding a blank document waiting for me, exactly how I left it two days ago when I decided I had time to finish it. Who the hell even cares about the history of Renaissance architecture? I do, somehow, judging by the fact that I have five pages of information to fill out. And that isn’t even counting the other papers I need to finish.

Like a man possessed, I work to pull as much information out of my head, notebooks, and ass as I can before throwing it all up into my laptop. The six-pack of energy drinks I have in the small fridge by my desk helps me to burn through the first few hours, but the last couple feel like I’m walking through six feet deep mud.

Eventually, as the sun begins creeping through the blinds, I hit save and print out my last assignment. Taking it, I shove it into my bag and drag my feet over to my bed before collapsing into it. Maybe I can get a little sleep before I need-fuck… My phone alarm rouses me from my momentary sleep, forcing me to suppress my urge to chuck it across the room.

Rising up, I throw on whatever shirt I can find and slip on my shoes before grabbing my bag. I don’t even care what kind of hell I must look like, I just need to turn this shit in. Beginning my long trek across campus, I’m thankful for the lack of other students awake at this ungodly hour. If there were more, I’d likely have snarled at a few of them by now.

It takes me a while, but I manage to stop by my first class and drop off my assignment, excusing myself soon after, before I deliver my other assignments to the offices of my other professors. Thankfully, my face must say a lot because they all excuse me from classes for the day without a second thought.

Stepping back outside, I shuffle my feet across campus to one of the many coffee shops, needing a hefty dose of caffeine and sugar. Sure enough, this early in the morning, there’s a decent sized line but it’s moving steadily. By the time I get to the front, the cashier looks at me with slight concern in his face. “Long night?” he asks.

“Too damn long…”

With a grimace, he rings me up for a large mocha, giving me an extra shot of espresso for free, along with a blueberry muffin. Taking my food and drink a couple minutes later, I relish in the sweet bitterness of the mocha. “Oh, hey, Ash.”

Pulling away from my mocha, I see Declan standing next to me, decked in a tank top, sweatpants, a gym bag over his shoulder, and a small cup of what looks to be tea. Blinking slowly, his face comes into focus. “Morning, Declan… What’re you doing here?”

“I just finished a gym workout. Wanted to grab some tea before I headed back to my place for a bit.” He quirks an eyebrow and steps closer to me. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”

I run a hand over my face. “I pulled an all-nighter so I could get some homework done. I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“Damn, you definitely seem like it. So why aren’t you in bed now?”

“Had to drop off my assignments, then got distracted by coffee. I was just about to-“ I slap my face. “I forgot my teammate Kyle is probably just getting back in now. He’s ROTC and today is his day off classes, so he’s going to sleep all day and he snores like a chainsaw.”

“So, what’re you going to do?”

“Maybe I’ll go to the library. I can check out a study room and sleep there.”

Declan runs his hand over his chin. “Why don’t you just sleep at my place? My couch is available and it’s usually pretty quiet.”

My chest tightens for a second. “I couldn’t do that, I’d be imposing.”

“Well, I insist, you big lug. I have class later this morning, so you’ll be able to sleep in peace while I’m out. I’m heading back anyway, so c’mon.”

He turns and starts walking away and my feet carry myself to follow him. As I walk behind him, I find my eyes drawn to the wide breadth of his shoulders. Declan’s about half a foot shorter than me, but years of dancing and consistent working out have given him a body guys would only dream of.

The muscles underneath his tank top flex with every step, hints of one of his several tattoos peeks out at the top of his back. In the early morning humidity, a small trickle of sweat slides down the nap of his neck. “Man, I want to lick that…” I near myself mumbling.

My hand slaps over my mouth, drawing Declan’s attention. “You okay?”

“Mosquito,” I quickly lie.

He nods I understanding before we keep walking. What the hell did I just say? That I want to lick the back of Declan’s neck? How fucked up is that? God, I must need more sleep than I thought. Thankfully Declan’s apartment isn’t terribly far and he leads me inside.

He sets his bag down at the entranceway and I do the same. “How about you just sleep in my bed instead of the couch? It would probably give you better rest than the couch would.”

The idea of a bed sounds like heaven right now, but Declan’s bed? “I-I mean I probably smell like an armpit right now, and I’m all greasy, and- “

“Ash, take the damn bed. I can always wash my sheets later.” Too tired to argue any further, I nod and head to the bedroom. While a bit small and sparsely decorated, it looks comfortable and lived in. “If you need to use the bathroom, you remember where it is yesterday, right?”

I nod and sit down on the bed, kicking my shoes off and falling back onto the mattress before burying myself under the sheets. “I really appreciate this, Declan. You didn’t have to do it.”

“I know. I wanted to. Get some rest, Ash. I’ll see you later.”

He shuts off the overhead light and closes the door. Sinking into the mattress and pillow, I find myself inhaling the lingering scent in the sheets. Declan’s smell. It’s not a bad smell, just familiar and it puts my mind at ease. Sleep pulls me under a moment later.

----------------

It’s way too damn hot for early October. I want changing leaves, comfy fall clothes, and some pumpkin spice in my life. Thankfully I’m done with classes for the day, happy with the way things are going. The students are learning well and a few of them actually seem excited to practice what I’m teaching them.

Finishing my water, I tuck it back into my bag and fish my keys out, stepping into the air conditioning with a sigh. I set my bag down and find Ash’s bag where he left it this morning. Based on how exhausted he looked this morning, it’s no surprise he’s still asleep.

I walk over to my bedroom and slowly crack the door open. Peeking inside, I see Ash spread out in my bed, the covers thrown off slightly, showing a broad and bare torso. Looking to the floor, I see Ash’s shirt and pants lying there. He must have taken them off while he was asleep.

Swallowing my saliva, I take in the sight before me. Jesus, he’s absolutely perfect. Years of hard work and football have given him large, toned muscles. Blemish free skin, accented by a dusting of chest hair, powerful arms that I would love to feel around me again, and the top of a defined set of abs and obliques hidden by my bed covers.

Ash shifts slightly in his sleep, mumbling quietly to himself before pulling the covers tighter to himself. The motion pulls me out of my thoughts, and I chastise myself for drooling over my friend. Sighing, I pull off my shirt and toss it into my laundry hamper before stepping into the bathroom.

Cracking the door, I strip fully and step into the clear shower, thankful for the spray of warm water washing away a day’s worth of sweat. As I lather myself, I feel a bit of blood rushing to my groin and find myself slowly getting harder. Having been busy the last few days, I haven’t given myself any “personal” time.

My mind flashes back to Ash lying in my bed, nearly naked and almost exposed. The mental image brings me to full mast in an instant. Biting my lip, knowing I’m going to be ashamed of myself later, I grab my body wash and dispense a healthy amount into my hand before gripping the base of my dick.

Letting muscle memory take over, my slick hand slowly slides up and down my shaft, the welcome tingling sensations radiating throughout my body. As much as I don’t want it to happen, Ash finds his way back into my head. Only this time, the bedsheets are gone, and so is his underwear.

In my mind, Ash runs his hands over his tight skin, his body squirming from his own touch. And it responds accordingly. His nipples tighten into hard tiny buds, a light sheen of sweat slowly seeps out onto his forehead, and his gorgeous cock, the perfect size, shape, and color, stands hard above his body, a clear drop of pre cum sliding down his own shaft.

A tiny moan escapes me as the Ash in my head takes his hand and firmly grasps his cock, his mouth opening from pleasure as he slowly strokes. A steady stream of precum leaks from his cock, running over his fingers and making his cock shine. What I would give to have a taste of it all.

His other hand reaches up to his nipple, tweaking it lightly and making him squirm even more while picking up the pace of his strokes. Ash’s hand slowly makes its way down his body, finding its way to his hefty balls and giving them a soft squeeze. The action causes him to arch off my bed, pleasure taking him over.

My own hand matches his pace, creating a thick lather as my body begs for release. Just as I think my mind can’t make Ash seem any hotter, Ash’s hand slides even lower and his legs spread a bit wider. His hand reaches the tight, pink cleft of his hole, twitching as he keeps jerking his cock.

His fingers circle the tight entrance, loosening it and getting it ready. I reach for my own hole, needing to mirror what this man is feeling. With my hand already slick and the warm water relaxing me, I groan as my finger slides in me, quickly finding my prostate as Ash does the same to himself.

Within a few seconds, Ash’s body lurches off my bed as jets of hot white cum shoot up and onto his torso, a rough growl escaping him as he releases himself. And with a final jerk, my own cum shoots out of me, spraying over the shower and slowly sliding down the drain.

Sighing to myself, I pull my finger out of me, coming down from my high and watching the soap slide off of me. Jesus, I’m such an asshole. Having a fantasy about a close friend of mine? How low can I be? Shaking my head, I gaze up to the showerhead in order to finish my shower when I become aware of another person in the room.

Looking over, I see a very awake Ash standing in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of tight boxer briefs and a surprised look on his face as he stares right at me. Too shocked to even move, I find my eyes flick down to his underwear, where a large bulge stretches the material.

If there is a God, they must be laughing at me right now…