Just Us
We were both soaked by the time we slipped through the side door of Josh’s house. The rain had turned the short run into a laughing, slippery dash, and my heart was still hammering when we padded down the basement stairs. The air underground felt cooler, quieter.
Josh flicked on a couple of lamps and the space opened up around us — a bed pushed against one wall, the rest of the floor open painted concrete, a skateboard lying on its side near the foot of the bed. Sports posters covered the walls: skateboarders mid-air, hockey players in full stride, a few MMA fighters from a couple of years back. Nothing else. Just that.
Josh stood there for a second, water dripping from his hair, then looked at me with that soft, dreamy expression I was starting to know so well. He stepped closer and put a gentle hand on my shoulder, thumb brushing the wet fabric of my shirt.
“Hey… I think I got a little carried away last night. Went a bit too far? I don’t know. I was kind of spinning today, worried that you might be mad at me. Sometimes I just get caught up in the moment—like that whole double-header comment. It was stupid. I just want you to feel safe with me, man. I want you to explore and have fun, yeah, but not feel creeped out. I’m your friend, bro.”
I was starting to feel he was much more than that.
His hand stayed warm and steady on my shoulder. I looked at him — at the rain still clinging to his lashes, at the way he was actually checking in, not pushing, just making sure I was okay — and it reassured me. The tight knot I’d been carrying in my chest since the track eased up a little, like I could finally breathe again.
I swallowed. The words came out before I could overthink them.
“I love you, man,” I said, voice rough. “Like… from the first night. You were just lying there on the track after the bike thing, laughing like it was the funniest shit in the world, and I thought… I don’t know. You make everything feel alive. You make me feel alive.”
Josh’s eyes went wide for a second, then softened. He didn’t pull his hand away.
“Damn,” he said quietly, almost laughing at himself. “That’s… wow.” He pulled me into a quick, awkward hug, the kind where our wet shirts stuck together and neither of us quite knew where to put our arms. When he let go he kept one hand on my shoulder. “Gosh, it’s nice to be appreciated.”
He looked down for a second, then back up, that dreamy little grin flickering.
“On that first night… you never got mad. I almost ran you over and you just asked if I was okay. That stuck with me. I think you’re pretty amazing too.” He tapped my chest lightly with two fingers. “I like the look you get when you’re thinking hard about something. You’re doing it right now, by the way.” He laughed softly. “And the next night I saw you out there running alone under the stars… in my head I started calling you the midnight philosopher dude. Tender. Sweet.”
He bumped my arm with his, easy and familiar.
“We got something special going on here, bro. I don’t know how long it’ll last. But it’s cool. Really cool.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I still can’t believe I never saw you at school before the track.”
Josh shrugged, looking down at the floor. “We moved during the first lockdown. Everything was remote for so long… I was just the kid on Zoom who never turned his camera on. Guess I stayed invisible until that night on the track.”
I gave a small nod, the words landing somewhere soft in my chest. For a second we just looked at each other.
“So how do you want it?” he asked, nodding at the concrete floor and the big bed. “We just start wrestling here? Or on the bed? Or both?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Let’s just wrestle. Flow wrestle. You always get me eventually anyhow.”
We started on the concrete floor. It was easy at first — rolling, grabbing, laughing when one of us slipped on the damp concrete. Josh peeled off his wet track pants and pulled on a pair of black MMA shorts he grabbed from a drawer. We kept going, trying whatever came naturally, neither of us in a hurry.
Eventually he reversed me and slid into the hold I’d been waiting for. He lay back, pulled my head between his thighs, and locked it tight — face right against the warm, firm crotch of the shorts, my nose and mouth pressed close, the scent of rain and him all around me. My stubble scraped lightly against the soft skin of his inner thighs as I shifted.
Josh let out a little hiss. “Whoa — easy with the sandpaper, bro. That stubble’s got teeth.” He laughed, but I could tell it actually stung. He released just long enough to stand up, strip the shorts off, and tug on an old pair of faded denim jeans instead. “There. Better.”
We moved to the bed. It was a big king-size, plenty of room. I climbed on and looked at him.
“Put me in it again,” I said. “The deep one. It’s my favourite thing.”
Josh’s eyes softened. He lay back and guided me between his thighs once more, this time on the soft mattress. One leg hooked over the back of my neck, the other came up to lock it tight. My face pressed right into the warm denim, the heat of him all around me.
“You have to tell me if it’s too much,” he said quietly, almost tenderly. “Or if you want it harsher. Give me a thumbs up every once in a while so I know you’re okay down there. Don’t want you passing out on me.”
I managed a thumbs-up against his leg.
He held me in that position for what seemed like five minutes, pouring it on, my head crushed against the meat of his thighs. I felt maybe close to passing out.
“Water break?” Josh asked, already reaching for the bottle on the nightstand. I sat up, took a quick swig, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Love that position,” I said, still catching my breath, “but damn, it’s intense. Hard to hold out there.”
Josh grinned that dreamy grin. “I can vary it up if you want.”
I nodded. “Yeah… let’s try the other way. Head toward your feet, like Landon had me.”
He lay back again and guided me in. One leg hooked over the back of my neck, the other came up to lock it tight, and with a smooth flip he pulled me sideways so my head pointed straight toward his feet — exactly the same angle Landon had trapped me in on the track.
He started slow, the pressure firm and steady, pulsing in slow waves.
“Damn,” I breathed, voice muffled. “You really got me now, huh?”
Josh’s hand rested lightly on my back. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He gave a gentle surge. “Tap out?”
I didn’t. I just breathed deep, letting the pressure come and go like the way he used to chase me on the track — speeding up, easing off, speeding up again. I was staring at his feet, same as Landon had me, and the thought hit me: I’m doing a doubleheader all right, but a different sort.
“Such a big tough boy,” he murmured, dreamy and soft. “Out there running under the stars… but I got you now, huh?”
“Yeah,” I managed, the word half-lost against him. “You do. Brought down by the freaky kid on the track.”
We both laughed, the sound shaky and warm.
He surged again, a little tighter. Every pulse dragged the heavy denim across my cheek and neck, hot and rough. The more he squeezed, the more it bit in, until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. That coarse friction against my face was driving me over the edge.
“Tell me… are we soulmates, bro?” His thighs pulsed. “Come on, philosopher boy. Say it. What am I?”
I was floating, the pressure on and off, the denim warm against my neck. “Soulmate,” I mumbled. “You’re my soulmate, Josh.”
He let out a soft, happy sound. “That’s right. We sure are. We sure are.”
Maybe it was the pressure of his thighs, maybe the gummy still humming in my veins, but everything felt serene, blissful, perfect. I thrust my hips once against the bed, grinding without thinking.
Josh’s hand slid down and rested on my rear, palm warm and steady. He gave a couple of light, affectionate smacks, then started rubbing slow circles.
“Fuck, Josh,” I gasped. “I’m yours. I’m your soulmate.”
He held the pressure steady, pulsing in that perfect rhythm, and I came hard — sudden, helpless, the orgasm ripping through me in long waves while his thighs kept me locked right where I belonged. A broken sound tore out of me, muffled against him, my whole body shaking.
When the last tremors finally eased, I was left panting, face burning hot, the soaked front of my shorts impossible to hide.
Josh released slowly, unfolding his legs and pulling me up into his chest. We lay there tangled on the big bed, hearts pounding against each other, the mattress cool and soft beneath us.
For a long moment neither of us spoke.
Then came a soft knock on the basement door.
“Josh?” His mother’s voice, sleepy and a little concerned. “Is that you? Are you okay in there? I heard some… noises.”
Josh’s eyes met mine. That playful, zany grin flashed across his face, bright and completely unashamed.
He called back, easy as ever, “Yeah, Mom. We’re good. Just wrestling.”
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