Jake stepped off the train into the crisp university-city air, backpack slung over one shoulder, nerves buzzing under his skin. The platform was busy with students hauling weekend bags, but he spotted Ryan immediately. He was tall, grinning, and waving like an idiot.
“Little bro!” Ryan bellowed, pulling him into a rough hug and ruffling his hair. “Good to see you, mate. Let’s get back. Pre-drinks are already flowing.”
They walked the fifteen minutes to the house Ryan shared with Tom and two other rugby lads: a big, slightly scruffy Victorian terrace that smelled faintly of lager and Lynx Africa even from the street. Ryan led him inside, past the bikes chained in the hall, and up the narrow stairs.
“Sorry, mate, you’re on the floor in my room,” Ryan said, pushing open his door to reveal a typical student chaos of clothes, protein tubs, and empty cans. “It’ll be a squeeze, but we’ll survive.”
Jake shrugged, trying to play it cool. “No worries.”
They dumped his bag and headed downstairs to the living room — a sagging sofa, massive TV, and a coffee table already covered in beer cans. Two big lads Jake hadn’t met before, Matt and Dan, both second-row forwards by the look of them, raised their cans in greeting.
“Jake, meet the animals,” Ryan laughed. “Animals, this is my little brother. Be nice.”
The lads grinned, handed him a cold beer, and immediately started ribbing Ryan about some missed tackle from training. Jake sipped his drink, joining in the chat, but his eyes kept flicking to the door.
Trying to sound casual, he asked, “Tom joining us tonight?”
“Yeah, he’s just in the shower,” Ryan said, cracking open another can. “Won’t be long.”
Five minutes later the living-room door swung open and Tom strode in wearing nothing but a white towel slung low on his hips, water still beading on his tanned shoulders and chest. His dark hair was damp and tousled, mustache trimmed sharp, and that easy, dangerous grin lit up the second he saw Jake.
“Little bro, you’re here!” Tom boomed, crossing the room in two strides and pulling Jake into a crushing bear hug. Jake’s face was pressed briefly into warm, hard pecs, the scent of shower gel and clean skin flooding his senses. “Missed ya, man.”
As they separated, Tom’s hand brushed deliberately across Jake’s hip, fingers lingering just a second too long. He smiled down at him, slow, knowing, and private. Jake felt heat rush to his face and elsewhere, but he managed to grin back.
Ryan chucked Tom a beer. “Put some clothes on, you animal.”
Tom caught it one-handed. “Hey Ry, I was thinking. My room’s bigger, I’ve got the double bed. Why doesn’t Jake kip in with me instead of on your floor?”
Ryan shrugged. “Makes sense. You cool with that, Jake?”
Jake swallowed, hoping his voice sounded normal. “Yeah, makes sense.”
Tom’s eyes sparkled. He took a swig of beer, then tilted his head toward the hall. “Why don’t you grab your bag and dump it in my room then, Jakey?”
Jake nodded, maybe a bit too quickly, and followed Tom out of the room. Tom led the way upstairs, towel riding dangerously low. The dimples at the base of his back and the flex of his glutes made Jake’s mouth dry. Jake detoured to Ryan’s room, grabbed his backpack, then knocked softly on Tom’s door.
It opened almost immediately. Tom was still in just the towel, leaning against the frame with that cocky half-smile. Jake blushed hard.
“Should I come back when you’re dressed?”
“Get in here,” Tom said, voice low. He reached out to yank him inside by the front of his hoodie and kicked the door shut behind them.
The second the lock clicked, Tom pushed Jake back against the door, firm, controlled, but unmistakable. The towel dropped to the floor. Tom’s mouth crashed onto Jake’s, hungry and hot. Big hands cupped Jake’s face, then slid down his neck and sides, finally grabbing two handfuls of ass and lifting. Jake’s legs wrapped instinctively around Tom’s waist, backpack sliding off his shoulder and thumping forgotten to the carpet. They kissed like they’d been starving for it, messy, desperate, moaning into each other’s mouths.
When they finally broke apart, both panting, Tom rested his forehead against Jake’s. “Fuck, Jakey. You’re so sexy. I missed you.”
Jake’s cheeks burned. “I thought maybe it was just a one-time thing.”
Tom grinned, shifting his hips so Jake could feel exactly how hard he already was. “Yeah, me too. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You up for doing it again?”
“Of course,” Jake breathed, the words tumbling out. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. Your photos the last few weeks have had me so worked up.”
“Good,” Tom growled, nipping Jake’s bottom lip. “Glad to hear it. That picture of you in those red briefs? Nearly came in my pants the second I opened it.”
“Really?” Jake asked, voice small with surprise. “You didn’t reply. I thought you hated it.”
Tom laughed softly. “No, baby, I loved it. But I figured the best reply was getting Ryan to invite you down here this weekend. Actions speak louder, yeah?”
Jake’s heart flipped. He reached down boldly, fingers wrapping around Tom’s thick, half-hard cock, stroking slowly. Tom groaned, his own bigger hand closing over Jake’s, guiding the rhythm for a moment before gently pulling Jake’s hand away.
“Later, baby,” Tom murmured, voice rough. “We’ve got all weekend. Right now we better get back downstairs before the lads come looking.”
He pressed one last quick kiss to Jake’s lips, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with infuriating nonchalance. Jake stood there flushed and breathless, adjusting himself discreetly as Tom opened the door.
“Come on, Jakey,” Tom said over his shoulder, that wicked grin back in place. “Let’s go get fucked up.”
Jake followed him downstairs, legs still a little shaky, a secret smile tugging at his lips.
This weekend was already better than he’d dared hope.
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