The March evening sky had drawn a blue curtain across the day, the warmth of afternoon long dissipated. Adrian led the way up the fraternity house steps, Blake and Mike flanking him on either side, Tanner trailing a few paces behind. They were noisy, their breath condensing into faint wisps of white in the cold air.
"You guys can head back to the dorms, really," Adrian said as he pushed through the heavy oak door into the warm foyer. "The danger's passed—temporary truce. But I'm glad you're staying, because I don't want any surprises tonight."
Blake shrugged. "We're already here. Besides, my roommate's probably deep in his code world. Better not to disturb him."
Mike grinned, shoving Blake's shoulder. "Yeah, this morning you went jogging with him before we hit the locker room. When did you two get so close?"
"Wait," Tanner jogged up a few steps to stand in front of Adrian, looking curiously at the group. "What are you all talking about? Adrian, what is danger? And Blake, your roommate—that kid who looks like a total basement dweller? Are you doing some kind of *Queer Eye* makeover on him?"
Blake's face flushed slightly. "No—he's not that bad. We're just... getting along better. Drop it."
Adrian just smiled at them, saying nothing. He had it figured out—Tanner asked too many questions, letting Blake deflect about Marcus would muddy the waters just fine.
They walked into a spacious common room, settling casually onto the couches in the shared lounge space. The whole house was quieter than usual—most brothers were either cramming in the library for midterms or out hitting the bars.
Tanner laughed as he tossed his bag on the floor, settling happily between Mike and Blake. "Adrian and Eric always move together. I'm the only freshman from the hockey team living in this house. Coming back here with you guys like this feels awesome! Like real brotherhood, not just hockey teammates, but... you know, looking out for each other."
Adrian's expression softened for a moment. "That's what fraternity means, brother." He paused, adding, "You should participate in more activities, get more integrated."
Tanner wrinkled his nose. "What, like standing at the door recruiting freshman girls? Pass, I don't want to do that."
"That's freshman duty, brotherhood is more than that." Adrian shook his head helplessly. "Suit yourself."
Tanner had already started grilling Blake about Ethan along with Mike. Adrian chose another couch to sit on. Then Tanner suddenly bounced up from the couch and walked toward the fridge. "Hey, brothers, what do you want to drink?"
Before they could answer, Tanner reached for the beer cans, but Adrian stopped him.
"No beer tonight," Adrian said firmly. "I don't care what you usually drink before games. Not this time."
Adrian pulled out another can and tossed it to Tanner. Tanner caught it, glanced at the label, and wrinkled his nose dramatically. "Non-alcoholic beer? Adrian, are you trying to raise us like babies? Is the next round going to be warm milk?"
"Milk's actually a good choice," Adrian replied deadpan, settling back onto the couch. "You need calcium for bone density and muscle contraction. If you want some, there's whole milk in the fridge."
Tanner stared at him wide-eyed, then turned to Mike. "See? I told you he's serious. This guy would totally make us drink from baby bottles before a game."
Mike chuckled, opening his own sparkling water. "That's why he's captain, and you're the one complaining about free drinks."
Tanner rolled his eyes but took a sip anyway. "Alright, it's not bad."
Tanner grabbed a few non-alcoholic drinks for the others, then sank into the couch, sighing contentedly. The room was quiet for a moment. Just as Mike was about to start another conversation topic, Tanner suddenly sat up straight, looking toward the stairs.
"Hey, where's Eric? Is he still holed up in his room?" Tanner's voice carried a hint of concern. "I saw some stuff on Instagram this morning... I mean, Eric got attacked? He's injured but it's not like he can only lie in bed, right? That's too boring..."
He pointed at the big TV in the living room. "We could play a few rounds of Mario Kart, as long as Eric brings down that Switch his brother gave him. Just like those rainy days before, when none of us had dates yet." He grinned, his eyes showing nostalgic warmth.
Adrian's expression softened for a moment, but he still shook his head. "Not tonight, Tanner. He took painkillers and he's already asleep."
Tanner looked disappointed but accepted the explanation. However, his expression quickly became serious again.
"Also, Adrian, are you serious about telling Brennan to put Marcus in Eric's spot?" Tanner set down his drink, his tone sharpening. "Put Marcus on the ice?"
Blake and Mike exchanged a quick glance. Adrian's face remained expressionless, but internally he felt the pressure mounting.
"Tanner," Mike interrupted with forced casualness. "Coach makes the decisions. Adrian just gave his opinion. Not that deep."
Blake nodded, supporting Mike's statement. "Yeah, man. Eric will come back when he's ready. No need to overthink it."
"It's a tactical decision," Adrian forced out.
"Tactical?" Tanner let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Captain. Don't you know Marcus is high all the time? You can smell weed on him constantly. That's why he never gets ice time."
He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Adrian as if trying to read his mind. "Look, when I was camping in the mountains, I accepted herb passed around the campfire. But that was in the mountains, not on the hockey rink. Marcus treats that stuff like morning coffee. Weed slows reaction time. You're putting a stoner with a half-speed brain on the blue line defense? The opposing forwards will blow past him like he's a traffic cone."
Tanner's confusion was genuine. He didn't wait for Adrian to respond before continuing. "Eric might be injured, but even with one leg, his brain is still sharp. Marcus... his lung capacity probably won't even last through the third period. If we lose the semifinal because of his conditioning collapse or slow reactions... that would be stupid."
Adrian looked at him, silent for a moment. He couldn't refute Tanner's logic because Tanner was right. This made Adrian hate Marcus's blackmail even more, and made him feel an even deeper sense of responsibility to these teammates who still trusted him.
"We'll win," Adrian finally said, his voice low. "No matter what."
Tanner stared at him for a while, then raised his bottle, clinking it against the air. "So," Tanner spoke again, his voice dropping. "The atmosphere in the locker room today was off. Colton acted like he owned the whole rink. And the way he got in your face, Adrian... I don't know what he said, but it looked bad."
Adrian's jaw tightened slightly, but his expression remained calm. The atmosphere in the locker room that afternoon had changed—Adrian's authority no longer carried the same weight. After bullying some bench players, Colton had pressed close to Adrian by the lockers, his hot breath on Adrian's neck, fingers trailing across Adrian's waist. Adrian still remembered Colton's infuriating whisper: "Great Adrian, our assistant captain. I still remember how you begged me to stop, how tight your throat was, and how my cum looked sprayed across your face. We could be friendlier, you know. Like in the warehouse."
Blake looked at Adrian with concern. Adrian took a slow, deep breath, suppressing his anger—his rage shouldn't be directed at Tanner. "It's nothing. Colton's just trying to get in my head. Random provocations. Noisy kid tricks."
"But—"
"Let it go. Adrian knows what he's doing." Blake leaned into Tanner's view. "We support each other, okay? That's what matters. Colton can say whatever he wants. Tomorrow, we'll show them what we're made of."
Tanner hesitated, then slowly nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I just... I don't like seeing that asshole disrespect you, Adrian. You're the captain. You've earned everyone's respect."
"Assistant captain," Adrian said with self-deprecating humor. He was grateful for the freshmen's support, even from someone like Tanner who knew nothing. "Tanner, Brennan and I are putting you on a line with Colton. You can't let personal feelings mess up our game."
"I know. On the ice, I'll feed him the puck non-stop. I want him to know he can't score without me." Tanner laughed and drained his drink in one gulp.
Adrian smiled with satisfaction, saying softly, "Thanks. I appreciate it."
They made noise in the living room for a while longer. Tanner clapped Blake on the shoulder—despite the late hour, his energy remained high. "Come on, let me show you guys the gym. We got some new equipment last month—all good stuff."
Blake exchanged a glance with Mike. Mike shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Perfect," Tanner said, already heading toward the back hallway. "It's downstairs, past the kitchen. You'll love it."
As the three of them disappeared down the stairs, Adrian let out a slow breath and headed upstairs toward his room. The house felt quiet now, Tanner's enthusiastic commentary fading into the direction of the basement. He pushed open the door and walked in.
Eric was sprawled on the bed, propped against the headboard with a Switch in his hands. The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face, his thumbs moving rapidly over the controls. He looked up as Adrian entered, offering a small smile.
"Hey," Eric said, pausing the game. "Thought you'd be down there longer."
Adrian closed the door behind him and leaned against it, rubbing his eyes. "Tanner's giving them the grand tour. Figured I'd leave them to it."
Eric set the Switch down on the nightstand—a well-maintained console that had belonged to his older brother before he graduated. Adrian had seen Eric play it before, usually on quiet days when there was no practice, no classes, no obligations. Sometimes Eric would join a few of the other brothers in the common room for Mario Kart tournaments, and during parties, they'd set up racing competitions to draw in people who wouldn't normally show up to a frat event.
"How you feeling?" Adrian asked, moving to sit at the edge of the bed.
Eric shrugged. "Better. Still sore, but... better." He paused, his expression shifting to something more serious. "So. How'd it go with Brennan? You manage to keep the faculty from sniffing around?"
Adrian nodded. "Yeah. Brennan doesn't know yet. I told him you took a fall walking at night and needed a few days to recover. No one's asking questions."
"And the lineup?" Eric's tone sharpened slightly. "I heard Marcus is taking my spot on defense."
Adrian met his gaze. "That's right."
Eric's jaw tightened, and he sat up straighter. "Adrian, I can play. I know I'm not at a hundred percent, but I can still—"
"No," Adrian said firmly, cutting him off. "You're not going out there tomorrow."
"Why not?" Eric's voice rose slightly, frustration bleeding through. "You think I'm too weak? Too scared?"
"I think you need time," Adrian said, his tone softer now. "And I think throwing you back into a game this important, this soon, is a mistake. You've been through hell, Eric. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."
Eric looked away, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "It's my position. My spot. And you're giving it to Marcus? After everything he's done?"
"It's strategy," Adrian said quietly. "Marcus wanted ice time. If I didn't give him something, he'd have blown everything up. This way, I keep him on a leash—at least for now."
Eric's expression darkened. "And what about me? You're just sidelining me?"
"I'm saving you for when it counts," Adrian said, his voice firm. "The regional final. The Frozen Four. Those are the games that matter. Tomorrow's just the semifinal. We've got Blake, Tanner, Mike—they can handle it. And when we get to the championship, you'll be back where you belong."
Eric stared at him for a long moment, his jaw working as he processed Adrian's words. Finally, he exhaled slowly and nodded. "Fine. But I'm not sitting around doing nothing. If I'm not on the ice, I'm at least staying sharp."
"Good," Adrian said. He reached over and squeezed Eric's shoulder. "I need you ready for the big games. Not burnt out from pushing too hard too soon."
Eric's expression softened, and he gave a faint smile. "You look like shit, man. You need to get some sleep."
Adrian let out a short, humorless laugh. "I'll sleep after we win."
Eric shook his head, standing up and heading toward the small kitchenette in the corner of the room. "You need more than that. Let me make you a shake or something. You used to drink those before bed all the time."
"I'm fine," Adrian said, waving him off and heading toward the bathroom. "I'm just gonna take a shower and crash."
"Adrian—"
"Seriously," Adrian interrupted, standing and heading toward the bathroom. "I appreciate it, but I'm good. Just need to clear my head."
Eric watched him for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes, but he didn't push. "Alright. But if you need anything..."
"I know," Adrian said, offering a faint smile. "Thanks."
Adrian stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaning against the sink and staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, tension in his jaw, the weight of everything pressing down on him.
He thought back to the tactical meeting with Brennan earlier that day. The coach had listened to his recommendations without much pushback, accepting Adrian's suggestion to slot Marcus into Eric's spot on defense. Brennan had raised an eyebrow but hadn't questioned it—Adrian was the captain, after all, and his input carried weight.
But the real challenge had been managing the lineup in a way that kept Marcus satisfied while maintaining control. Adrian had carefully structured the lines.
It was a delicate balance—giving Marcus just enough to keep him quiet while ensuring the core of the team remained under Adrian's influence. Blake and Mike anchored the first line, Tanner would keep Colton in check on the second, and Marcus would be watched like a hawk on defense.
Adrian splashed cold water on his face, trying to shake off the exhaustion. Tomorrow was going to be brutal. But if they won—if they made it through—it would all be worth it.
He turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the small bathroom, and stepped under the hot water. For a moment, he let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
But in the back of his mind, Colton's taunting whisper still echoed: "How tight was your throat?"
Adrian's fists clenched. Tomorrow, on the ice, he'd show them exactly who was in control.
Carrying all of this, Adrian lay in bed after his shower. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the radiator and the distant sound of someone moving around downstairs. He'd been in bed for over an hour now, but couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept circling back to the same things—the tactical meeting, Colton's taunting whisper, Marcus's cold smile, the weight of holding it all together.
He rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket higher, trying to force his body to relax. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and his eyes finally closed.
**Midnight.**
Some time later, Adrian jolted awake, his heart pounding in the darkness. At first, he didn't know what had woken him—just the hum of the radiator and the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the blinds. Then he heard it again.
A soft, broken whimper from Eric's bed across the room.
Adrian thought it was a nightmare—Eric had been having them yesterday. But as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out Eric's silhouette on the bed, and the movement was... different.
Eric was on his back, one hand gripping the sheets, the other moving beneath the waistband of his boxers. His breathing was ragged, uneven—not the steady rhythm of pleasure, but something more desperate, almost frantic. Another whimper escaped his throat, followed by a muffled curse.
Adrian froze. He should've turned away, given Eric privacy. But something about the sound—the desperation, the pain underneath it—kept him rooted in place.
Eric's hand moved lower, and Adrian could see the unmistakable motion now—Eric's fingers pushing into himself, stretching, searching for something that wasn't there anymore. His movements were rough, almost punishing, like he was trying to dig out the memory of hands that shouldn't have touched him.
"Fuck..." Eric's voice broke, barely above a whisper. "Come on... please..."
Adrian's chest tightened. He knew what Eric was doing. He was trying to reclaim what had been taken from him, to replace the violation with something—anything—that felt like his own choice.
But it wasn't working. Eric's breathing grew more ragged, more frustrated, and then he let out a choked sob. "I can't... I can't fucking..."
Adrian wanted to say something, to reach out, but he didn't know how. Then Eric turned his head, and their eyes met in the darkness.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Eric's voice came out, raw and broken.
"Adrian... please."
Adrian sat up slowly, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Eric..."
"Please," Eric repeated, his voice cracking. "I need... I need you to make it stop. Make me forget. Make it so I only remember—" His words cut off, his hand still moving beneath the sheets. "I need it to be you. I need you to cover it up, to make me forget their hands, their voices—"
Adrian's breath caught. "Eric, you don't—"
"I need your cock, Adrian," Eric said, his voice desperate. "I need you to fuck me so I can tell myself that's how I lost it. That it was just us messing around, just—just brothers being stupid. Not them. Not that fucking warehouse. Please."
Adrian's hands trembled as he threw off the blanket and moved to Eric's bed. His body was already responding—his cock thickening, pressing against the fabric of his shorts, and he felt a flush of confusion mixed with something darker, something he didn't want to examine too closely.
When Adrian reached the side of Eric's bed, his erection had already pushed free from the leg of his shorts, thick and heavy, pointing toward Eric's face. The contrast was stark—Adrian's pale, thick shaft against Eric's dark skin, the head already glistening with precum. Adrian stared at it for a moment, bewildered by his own arousal.
He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd fooled around with guys—locker room circle jerks, the occasional mutual jerk-off session to build camaraderie, to establish hierarchy. He'd done it with Blake, made him prove his loyalty. And yeah, he'd fucked a couple of pretty, feminine boys who'd offered themselves up, but Adrian didn't consider them as having masculine presence at all.
But this? This was Eric. His brother. His teammate. A man just as masculine, just as strong as he was. And Adrian was still hard, his cock throbbing with need, and he didn't understand why.
Eric's eyes were fixed on Adrian's cock, wide and desperate. His own hand was still working between his legs, fingers stretching himself open. "Please," Eric whispered again. "I need it. I need you to fuck me. Make me forget. Make me remember only you."
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Eric, this doesn't—"
"I know," Eric interrupted, his voice thick with shame. "I know what they called me. I know they said I was—" He choked on the word. "They called me a faggot. They said I was too small, that I wasn't man enough. That I—" His voice broke. "But you're not them. You're my brother. And if you do this, it's just... it's just us. Just messing around. It doesn't change anything, right?"
Adrian's chest tightened. He knelt on the bed, his cock brushing against Eric's cheek, and Eric turned his head slightly, his lips parting as if on instinct. Adrian's breath hitched, his hand moving to cup the back of Eric's head.
"Listen to me," Adrian said, his voice rough. "What happened to you in that warehouse—that doesn't change who you are. You're still straight. You're still a man. Getting raped by those assholes doesn't make you less than anything. You hear me?"
Eric's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Then why do I feel like this? Why do I need—"
"Because you're trying to take back control," Adrian said firmly. "And that's okay. I've got you, brother. Brothers looking out for each other."
Eric's hand reached up, wrapping around Adrian's shaft, and Adrian hissed at the contact. Eric's grip was firm, reverent almost, and his thumb brushed over the head, smearing the precum across the tip.
"Just fuck me," Eric whispered. "Please. Make me forget them. Make me remember only you."
Adrian's resolve crumbled. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against Eric's for a moment, their breath mingling in the darkness. "Alright," he said quietly. "But this doesn't change anything. We're still brothers."
Eric nodded, his eyes closing in relief. "Yeah."
Adrian moved between Eric's legs, his cock already slick with precum, and Eric spread himself wider, his fingers still working to open himself up. Adrian guided Eric's hand away, replacing it with his own, and Eric let out a shuddering breath as Adrian's thick fingers pushed inside.
"You're so tight," Adrian murmured, his voice low and rough. "Fuck, Eric..."
Adrian reached for the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube—they'd kept it there for years, for the nights when they'd jerk off before bed, never thinking it would be used for this.
"We're going to take this slow," Adrian said, his voice rough. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not like they did."
Eric nodded, his hands gripping the sheets. "Okay. Okay."
Adrian poured lube onto his fingers, warming it between his palms before reaching down. Eric flinched at the first touch, his body instinctively tensing, but Adrian kept his movements slow and deliberate.
"Relax," Adrian murmured. "Just breathe. I've got you."
Eric let out a shaky breath, forcing his body to relax as Adrian's finger circled his entrance, teasing, coaxing. Then, slowly, Adrian pushed inside, and Eric's back arched slightly, a soft gasp escaping his lips.
"Fuck," Eric whispered. "That's—"
"Good?" Adrian asked, his voice low.
"Yeah," Eric breathed. "Yeah, it's... different."
Adrian worked him slowly, adding more lube, his finger moving in and out with careful precision. Eric's body gradually relaxed, his breathing evening out, and Adrian added a second finger. Eric tensed again, but Adrian kept his pace steady, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on Eric's thigh.
"You're doing great," Adrian said softly. "Just like that. Let me in."
Eric's eyes fluttered closed, his body opening up under Adrian's careful ministrations. Adrian added a third finger, and Eric let out a low moan, his hips shifting slightly, seeking more.
Adrian's cock throbbed, aching with need, but he forced himself to go slow. He was massive—nearly eight inches, thick and heavy—and he knew that if he rushed this, he'd hurt Eric. And that was the last thing he wanted.
"I'm ready," Eric said suddenly, his voice rough. "Please, Adrian. I need—"
"Alright," Adrian said, pulling his fingers free. He poured more lube onto his cock, stroking himself slowly, and Eric's eyes followed the movement, wide and hungry.
Adrian positioned himself, the head of his cock pressing against Eric's entrance, and Eric's hands reached up, gripping Adrian's shoulders. "Just... go slow, okay?"
"I will," Adrian promised. "This is your first time. The real first time."
Eric's eyes glistened. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."
Adrian pushed forward slowly, inch by inch, and Eric's mouth fell open, a broken gasp escaping his throat. The stretch was intense—Adrian could see it in the way Eric's body tensed, the way his fingers dug into Adrian's shoulders—but Adrian kept his movements controlled, giving Eric time to adjust.
"Breathe," Adrian murmured. "Just breathe through it."
Eric nodded, his chest heaving as he forced himself to relax. Adrian pushed deeper, and Eric let out a low, guttural moan that sent a shiver down Adrian's spine.
"Fuck," Adrian breathed. "You feel so good, Eric. So fucking tight."
Eric's eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping down his cheeks. "Keep going. Don't stop."
Adrian buried himself fully, his hips flush against Eric's ass, and they both froze for a moment, the weight of what they were doing settling over them. Then Adrian pulled back slowly and thrust again, and Eric's moan turned into something raw and desperate.
"Yes," Eric gasped. "Fuck, yes. Just like that."
Adrian found a rhythm, slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out with deliberate precision. Eric's body opened up under him, his moans growing louder, more unrestrained, and Adrian felt something shift inside him—something possessive, something primal.
"This is what it should've been," Adrian murmured, his voice rough. "Your first time should've been like this. Gentle. Safe. With someone who cares about you."
Eric's eyes opened, locking onto Adrian's. "I'm glad it's you," he whispered. "I'm glad it's you, Adrian."
Adrian's chest tightened, and he leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as he thrust deeper. "Me too."
They moved together in the darkness, their bodies slick with sweat, the bed creaking softly beneath them. Adrian's hands roamed over Eric's body—his chest, his sides, his thighs—memorizing every inch. Adrian's rhythm gradually quickened, each thrust hitting deeper, Eric's moans turning into broken pleas.
"Tomorrow," Adrian said between thrusts, his voice low and steady. "Tomorrow, we're going to win that semifinal. Blake's going to dominate. Tanner's going to wreck their defense. And you're going to watch from the bench and know that we've got this."
Eric nodded, his breathing ragged. "Yeah. Yeah, we will."
"And after that," Adrian continued, his pace quickening, "we're going to handle Marcus. Blake's geek roommate said if we can get Marcus to click on a link, he can wipe those videos. Every last one of them."
Eric's eyes widened slightly. "How are you going to do that?"
Adrian's lips curled into a dark smile. "I've got a target. Someone in Marcus's crew who's... vulnerable. Someone we can turn."
Eric's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"You'll see," Adrian said, thrusting harder. "But for now, you and I? We're going to do some bad things. Real bad things. And we're going to enjoy it."
Eric's breath hitched, and a shaky laugh escaped his throat. "Fuck, Adrian. You're insane."
"Maybe," Adrian grinned. "But you love it."
Eric's laugh turned into a moan as Adrian shifted his angle, hitting a spot that made Eric's entire body jerk. "Oh God—there—right there—"
Adrian's grin widened, and he focused on that spot, driving into it again and again until Eric was a writhing, gasping mess beneath him. "That's it," Adrian murmured. "Let go. Forget everything but this."
Adrian felt the shift in his own body—the need to take control, to dominate. Eric must have sensed it too, because his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between them.
"Turn over," Adrian said, his voice low and commanding.
Eric hesitated for only a moment before obeying, rolling onto his stomach. Adrian pulled him up onto his hands and knees, positioning him so that his ass was raised, his back arched. The sight of Eric like this—strong, muscular, vulnerable—sent a surge of heat through Adrian's body.
Adrian gripped Eric's hips, his fingers digging into the dark skin, and thrust back inside in one smooth motion. Eric's body jerked forward, a strangled gasp escaping his throat, but Adrian held him steady, his hands firm and possessive.
"That's it," Adrian murmured, his voice rough. "Take it. All of it."
Eric's fingers gripped the sheets, his body trembling as Adrian set a harder pace, each thrust driving deeper. Adrian's pale hands gripping Eric's dark hips, the contrast stark and striking. Eric's body responded, his muscles tensing and releasing, his hips pushing back to meet each thrust. It was intoxicating.
"Fuck," Eric gasped, his voice muffled against the pillow. "Adrian—"
"Quiet," Adrian warned, his hand sliding up Eric's back, pressing him down slightly. "You're going to wake the whole house."
Eric bit down on the pillow, muffling his moans, and Adrian smirked, his pace never faltering. He could feel Eric's body responding, the way his muscles clenched and released, the way his hips pushed back to meet each thrust. It was intoxicating.
After a few final deep thrusts, Adrian froze, buried deep inside Eric, letting out a low growl as his orgasm hit. Eric could feel that warmth spreading inside him, the sensation both foreign and... right.
Then Eric moved, sliding off the bed and onto his knees on the floor. He looked up at Adrian, his eyes dark, filled with something Adrian couldn't quite name—gratitude, desperation, need.
"Let me," Eric said quietly.
Adrian looked at him with confusion. "Eric, you don't have to—"
But Eric had already reached out, gently parting Adrian's legs. Adrian's cock was still half-soft, slick with lube and his own release. Eric leaned down, his tongue lightly licking over it.
Adrian sucked in a breath. "Fuck—Eric—"
Eric didn't stop. His tongue traveled along Adrian's shaft, cleaning, then continued downward. He gently pushed Adrian's thighs apart, opening him up more, and then his tongue found that place Adrian had never been touched like this before.
Adrian's whole body tensed, instinctively wanting to close his legs. "Eric, you're—fuck—"
"Shh," Eric looked up, his eyes steady. "Let me take care of you. You just took care of me. Now it's my turn."
Adrian hesitated, then forced himself to relax. This was so foreign, so vulnerable, but when Eric's tongue touched there again, a pleasure he'd never experienced shot up his spine.
"No—wait—I don't want—" Adrian started to pull away, instinct and uncertainty warring with desire.
"I know you don't want to," Eric said softly, looking up at Adrian. His eyes were deep and sincere. "That's exactly why I want to do this. You need someone to take care of you for once. Not to control you, not to get something from you. Just... me, taking care of you. Do you trust me?"
Adrian's chest heaved, his mind racing. Every instinct was telling him to stop, that this had crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed. But Eric's gaze was steady and patient, and beneath the uncertainty, Adrian realized he did trust him.
"Yes," Adrian finally gasped. "Yes, I trust you."
Eric smiled, and his tongue began to move again. His movements were meticulous and reverent, his tongue tracing those folds, pressing and licking with just the right amount of pressure. That wet, soft sensation made Adrian involuntarily tilt his head back, letting out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh.
"Fuck," Adrian gasped, his hips unconsciously shifting slightly. "This... this is too—"
Eric increased the pressure, his tongue even tentatively pushing in a bit, and Adrian's whole body trembled. His cock began to harden again, responding to this entirely new stimulation.
"Do you like it?" Eric asked, his voice muffled. "I can feel you relaxing."
Adrian nodded, unable to speak. Eric continued, his tongue surprisingly skilled, and Adrian felt his cock fully erect, pressing against his abdomen. Being pleasured like this was incredibly erotic.
After a few minutes, Eric pulled away, kissing up Adrian's shaft and taking him into his mouth, working him with more intensity. Adrian's hand found Eric's hair again, fingers threading through as his hips gently thrust, Eric taking him deeper.
"Fuck, Eric," Adrian breathed, his hand tangling in Eric's hair. "You're so good at this."
Eric's eyes fluttered closed, his head moving slowly, his lips wrapping around Adrian's growing length. Adrian couldn't look away. His cock swelled fully in Eric's mouth, and Eric moaned around it, the vibration sending a shiver down Adrian's spine.
The room was filled only with the wet sounds and their intertwined breathing.
When Adrian finally looked up, his cock was harder than before. Eric turned over, seeing Adrian's state, his eyes darkening.
"Come," Eric said, sitting up and patting the bed. "Lie down."
Adrian complied, leaning back against the headboard. Eric straddled him, his back to Adrian, slowly lowering himself down.
"Wait—" Adrian started to say, but Eric had already positioned himself.
"I want to," Eric said firmly. "I want to feel you. Again."
He slowly sat down, inch by inch, swallowing Adrian whole. This time it wasn't as tight as the first time, but that feeling of fullness still made him gasp.
"Oh God," Eric gasped, his head falling back against Adrian's shoulder. "You're still so big—"
"Shh," Adrian murmured, his hands sliding up Eric's torso, exploring the hard planes of his stomach, his chest. "Easy. We have time."
Eric's body trembled as it adjusted to that fullness, that stretch, and then he began to move—slowly at first, lifting himself and sinking back down, his movements tentative but gaining confidence. Adrian's hands roamed over Eric's body, one hand moving up to tease a nipple, the other moving down to wrap around Eric's cock, stroking him in time with his movements.
"That's it," Adrian murmured against Eric's ear, his breath hot. "Ride me. Show me how good it feels."
Adrian began to move, his hips rolling up in slow, deliberate thrusts. When Adrian's cock hit that spot inside Eric—the one that made his whole body light up like electricity—Eric's breath caught. Adrian adjusted his angle slightly, focusing on that spot, each thrust precise and controlled, and Eric's moans, despite his best efforts to suppress them, grew louder and louder.
"Oh fuck—Adrian—right there—don't stop—"
Adrian's hand tightened around Eric's cock, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts, and Eric's body began to shake, pleasure building so intensely he thought he might pass out. Adrian's other hand moved to his chest, pinching his nipple, and Eric's hips jerked involuntarily, a strangled cry escaping his throat.
"That's it," Adrian murmured against his ear. "Let go. I've got you."
But even as Adrian said it, a flicker of panic passed through him. Eric was falling apart in his arms, his body responding to Adrian's touch in ways that felt dangerously addictive. What if Eric got too used to this? What if he started needing it, craving it, unable to go back to how things were before?
Adrian's thrusts slowed slightly, his mind racing even as his body continued to move. This was supposed to be healing. Temporary. But the way Eric was moaning, the way his body was trembling—it didn't feel temporary. It felt like something was breaking open between them, something that couldn't be put back together.
"Eric," Adrian said suddenly, his voice strained. "We should—we need to talk about getting you a girlfriend."
Eric's body stiffened, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then Eric let out a breathless, almost hysterical laugh.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" Eric gasped. "You're—you're literally balls-deep inside me, and you want to talk about me dating girls?"
Adrian loosened his grip on Eric's hips, his face flushing. "I just—I don't want you to think—"
"Shut up," Eric interrupted, his voice rough. He began to move again, his hips rolling, grinding down onto Adrian's cock with renewed intensity. "I don't want to hear that right now. I don't want to think about anything but this."
Eric's movements grew more desperate, more frantic, and Adrian's hands slid back up to his chest, his fingers teasing Eric's nipples as his cock drove deeper, hitting that spot again and again. Eric's moans turned into broken, pleading gasps, and Adrian felt his own control slipping.
"Listen, I don't need you... to set me up with a girlfriend to prove anything." Eric gasped as he spoke. He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "You see... my body responds. You know, you feel it too. That feeling... that spot... it exists. I can't pretend it didn't happen, and I can't pretend I don't feel good."
Adrian wanted to say something comforting, but Eric held up a hand to stop him.
"I don't need and shouldn't experience it again. Really." Eric looked into Adrian's eyes, his gaze steady. "I just hope... if someday, for some reason, I think of this feeling, or that damn physiological response comes back... it's you that appears in my mind."
Adrian was stunned.
"What I want to remember is how you took care of me," Eric continued, his voice trembling slightly. "How you made me comfortable even though you felt awkward. What you did to make me forget those assholes. Not... not those memories from the warehouse."
Adrian nodded, his voice softening. "Yeah. I get it."
"So," Eric lay back down, closing his eyes, "don't try to sell me Sarah or Jessica. That's my business. You should focus on your own Winslow. If she knew you spent all your energy here tonight, she'd probably kill me."
Adrian let out a short, genuine laugh. "She wouldn't have the ability."
"Better not," Eric muttered, then started moving his hips again, clenching tightly around Adrian's cock.
"Fuck," Adrian breathed, his hands gripping Eric's hips again, pulling him down harder. "You feel so good. So fucking tight."
Eric's hand moved to his own cock, stroking frantically, and Adrian's lips found his ear, his breath hot against Eric's skin. "Come for me," Adrian murmured. "Come on me, Eric. Show me how good you feel."
Eric's entire body tensed, and then he was coming, his release spilling over his hand and onto the sheets below, his moan muffled by his own fist pressed against his mouth. His body clenched around Adrian's cock, and the sensation was overwhelming. Adrian buried himself deep, his own release crashing over him as he spilled inside Eric once more, his grip on Eric's hips nearly bruising.
Adrian's fingers lazily traced patterns on Eric's shoulder. For a moment, both were silent. The reality of what had just happened hung over them—not the physical acts themselves, but their implications. The intimacy. The trust.
"We should get some sleep," Adrian finally said, though he made no move to shift away.
"Yeah," Eric agreed, but he didn't move either. "We have a big day tomorrow."
"The semifinal," Adrian said softly.
"And after," Eric continued, "we take down Marcus. Right?"
Adrian's lips curled into a grim smile. "Right. That too."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Eric."
*TBC*
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