The pounding at the door was relentless, each thud vibrating through the thin wood like a hammer strike. Asher jerked awake, hissing through his teeth as his bleary eyes struggled to adjust to the dim glow of his alarm clock. The clock glared back at him in bold white digits: 4:30 AM. He shoved off the tangled sheets, his bare chest heaving with a groan as he dragged a hand through his riot of dark curls, the strands sticking up in chaotic tufts. He staggered to the door, his muscles coiled tight with sleep-stiff resistance as he swung a towel around his neck - damp from last night’s half-assed shower.
When he yanked the door open, Jake stood there grinning like a feral cat, already dressed in practice gear, his ginger hair slicked back from his forehead. Asher’s sleep-addled brain registered the details in fragments: the way Jake’s lean frame practically vibrated with energy, the way his green eyes gleamed under the hallway’s flickering fluorescents. "The fuck," Asher rasped, voice graveled with sleep, his free hand slapping against the doorframe to steady himself. His olive skin was flushed from the abrupt wake-up call, the smooth planes of his chest rising sharply with each breath. "Bro, keep the goddamn noise down," he muttered, jerking his chin toward his roommate’s still-snoring form in the bunk behind him.
Jake’s gaze dropped, taking in the way Asher’s sleep-warm body filled the doorway, the way his PJ pants hung precariously low on his hips, the waistband straining against the dense muscle of his thighs. The towel around Asher’s neck did nothing to hide the way his broad shoulders flexed as he rubbed at his eyes, the dark curls at his groin peeking above the fabric. Jake’s grin turned wolfish. "Damn, Kovac," he murmured, leaning in just enough to make Asher’s pulse jump. "You look a bit groggy this fine morning."
Asher scowled, shoving Jake back with a palm to his chest, but his fingers lingered a second too long against the firm muscle beneath Jake’s singlet. "Fuck off," he grumbled, but there was no heat in it. He turned away, scratching absently at the taut skin of his stomach, the motion making the waistband of his pants dip even lower. "Give me five minutes," he muttered over his shoulder, reaching for his singlet crumpled on the floor.
Asher's singlet clung to his fingers as he shouldered past Jake and stubbled down the hall and into the dimly lit men's room, the tiles cold beneath his bare feet. The pre-dawn silence was broken only by the distant hum of the dorm’s HVAC system and the rhythmic drip of a leaky faucet three stalls down. He strode toward the far shower, fingers curling around the plastic curtain to yank it aside with a sharp rattle of rings. The motion sent a ripple through his muscles, the dense coil of his shoulders flexing and the smooth planes of his olive-toned back shifting like tectonic plates beneath skin still flushed from sleep. His PJ pants slid down his thighs with a whisper, pooling at his ankles to reveal legs corded with wrestler’s muscle, the dusting of dark hair trailing from his knees up to where his thighs met the dramatic swell of his ass.
He hung the damp towel, PJs, and singlet on a rusted hook, the fabric swaying as he turned to face the spray. The morning light filtering through the high windows cut across his torso in jagged stripes, illuminating the dense thatch of curls between his pecs, the deep divot of his navel, the way his soft cock draped heavy and thick against his thigh, foreskin puckered slightly at the tip. Water hit his chest in a sudden shock, sluicing down the defined ridges of his abdomen, beading along the pronounced curve of his uncut length before dripping off in erratic pulses. He tipped his head back into the spray, throat working as he swallowed a groan, his biceps flexing when he dragged both hands through his soaked curls- dark spirals plastered to his forehead and water tracing the sharp angle of his jaw.
Jake leaned against the sink outside the stall, arms crossed, watching the silhouette through the translucent curtain. The exaggerated arch of Asher’s spine as he soaped up, the way his shoulders rolled when he scrubbed at his neck, the occasional shift of his hips when he adjusted his stance under the water. The steam curled around the edges of the plastic, carrying the scent of cheap dorm soap and the musk of Asher’s skin. Jake’s tongue darted out to wet his lips unconsciously, his gaze tracking the way Asher’s silhouetted fingers lingered just a second too long between his thighs, knuckles brushing the underside of his cock as he rinsed off.
"Quit staring, creep," Asher muttered without turning around, voice rough with sleep and the echo of the shower. He shoved the curtain aside with his elbow, water sluicing off him in sheets as he reached for his towel, his biceps bulging and droplets caught in the dark hair dusting his forearms. Jake smirked but didn’t move, eyes dragging down the length of Asher’s body as he dried off with rough, efficient strokes, the towel snagging momentarily on the pronounced curve of his half-hard cock before Asher jerked it away with a grunt. "You’re such a fucking perv," he added, though the corner of his mouth twitched as he yanked his singlet up his legs, the fabric straining against the breadth of his shoulders.
Jake stepped into Asher's space with silent grace, his singlet stretching taut over the corded muscle of his shoulders and chest, the fabric pulling dangerously at his freckled collarbones where sweat already darkened the material. His fingers, calloused from years of grappling and training, traced a slow, deliberate path down Asher's abdomen, lingering where the singlet clung obscenely to the outline of his cock, thick and uncut, the veins visibly straining against the fabric. The contrast was staggering: Jake's lean, wiry frame against Asher's dense musculature, his own singlet barely containing the swollen curve of his arousal while Asher's looked like it might split at the seams, the dark fabric stretched to translucency over the sheer girth of him.
"You're really gonna pretend you don't want this?" Jake murmured, his breath hot against Asher's jaw, his thumb pressing into the pronounced bulge just enough to make Asher's hips twitch forward involuntarily. The fluorescent light caught the sweat beading along Jake's temple, the faint tremor in his fingers betraying his own need despite the smirk playing on his lips. Asher's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his olive skin flushing darker under Jake's scrutiny, the singlet's straps digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders where they tensed. Whether to resist or restrain himself, even he wasn't sure.
With a sharp exhale, Asher shoved Jake's hand away, his biceps flexing as he pinned him against the tiled wall with one forearm, their chests heaving in tandem. "Cut the shit," he growled, though his voice lacked conviction, his gaze flicking to the way Jake's singlet rode up his thighs, revealing the flushed head of his cock below the rim. "We need to head out to Liam's 'practice', bro." His fingers tightened briefly on Jake's wrist before releasing him.
Jake chuckled, his green eyes glinting with mischief as he wiped his damp palms down the front of his singlet, the fabric clinging tighter to his lean torso. "Dude," he murmured, stepping close enough that his breath ghosted over Asher's collarbone, "I've been looking forward to seeing you impale Yang on that massive dick of yours." His smirk widened when Asher's olive skin flushed darker, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "You're right," Jake added with exaggerated solemnity, fingers tracing the strained hem of Asher's singlet where it dug into his thigh. "We should save up for the main event."
Asher shoved him back with a rough exhale, his thick biceps flexing as he adjusted himself through the fabric, the outline of his cock obscenely pronounced. "Shut the fuck up," he growled, though his voice cracked slightly, his dark curls still dripping water down his neck. "We don't even know that's what Yang meant." Jake rolled his eyes, stretching his arms overhead with deliberate slowness to reveal the freckled skin of his arms and the light dusting of ginger curls in his armpits. "Sure, Kovac," he drawled, turning toward the door. "Let's get going then."
From behind, their contrasting physiques were impossible to ignore. Jake's lean frame moved with feline grace, the singlet stretched taut over the sharp wings of his shoulder blades, the fabric clinging to the sweat-damp hollow of his spine. His ass, though not as pronounced as Asher's, flexed with each step, the muscled curve just visible under the hem of his uni. Asher lumbered behind him, his dense shoulders rolling with every motion, the singlet straining across the broad expanse of his back like a second skin. The fabric pulled obscenely between his ass cheeks, the globes taut and powerful beneath the dark material, each step making the muscles ripple.
The fluorescent lights caught the sweat already beading at the nape of Asher's neck, the damp curls clinging to his skin as he adjusted his stride to match Jake's. Jake glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning as he took in the way Asher's singlet had ridden up, the thick muscle of his thighs flexing with every step, the pronounced outline of his cock squeezed under the uni. "Quit staring, perv," Asher muttered, though his voice lacked heat, his own gaze lingering on the way Jake's freckled shoulders shifted under the fabric. The hallway stretched ahead, silent save for the echo of their footsteps and the unspoken tension between them as they headed to practice.
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