Page 46 of Delay of Game

By the time he took a break to fumble for the lube and open it, Nate was just sort of lying there, shaking and taking short, ragged breaths that sounded like they pained him. Zach knew how he felt. He wasn’t really touching himself, but taking the time to do this to Nate had really done it. Everything in him felt drawn up and on edge, tense and ready to break.

“Good?” Zach asked.

Nate couldn’t answer at first, and finally managed, “Uh.”

“Good,” Zach agreed, and watched him carefully. He ran a finger down Nate’s thigh, leaving a wet trail behind it. “I promise, baby, it’s gonna be good.”

“And you...always keep your promises, huh?”

Zach didn’t answer, just said, “I’m gonna do it.”

At first he just teased, something they’d done before, Zach’s finger circling Nate’s hole, a steady rub. When Nate had relaxed a little, he slowly pushed his finger in. Nate dug his teeth into his lower lip. Zach knew it didn’t hurt, but it was a strange feeling if you weren’t used to it. He exhaled sharply. Nate still looked kind of uncomfortable, awkward until Zach’s finger, stroking carefully, started to slowly unwind him.

“Oh—that feels—that feels really—”

That was encouraging, so Zach kept doing it, watching, fascinated at the way Nate’s expression was so unguarded now, unable to control himself, the way he felt stretched around Zach’s fingers. It was too much, really, so he leaned down and swallowed all of the gasps and exclamations into his own mouth.

Nate kissed him back, sloppy and desperate, and Zach pulled back far enough to murmur, “Okay, it’s good?” and Nate said, “Yes, okay, please—”

He lost track of the time because he was so focused on the way Nate was moving under him. The way Nate was half-brokenly asking for things he didn’t even know how to phrase, a mess ofpleaseandmore. The way Zach was trying to keep himself in control, to make thisgood, but he was rapidly losing it himself because some part of his shitty brain had been thinking about this for three years and now that it was actually happening it was overwhelming to the point where if he didn’t occasionally stop to get a hold of himself, he might have actually just come and ruined everything.

“I’m going to—can I fuck you—”

Nate’s eyes opened and they were so fucking stupid blue and the expression in them was so much that Zach couldn’t look away. His blond hair was darker with sweat and his face was flushed and his lip was bleeding a little where he’d bitten it, but Nate looked at him like he was the only thing in the entire fucking world that mattered, and Zach was actually kind of speechless for a second.

Nate said, “How do I do this?”

Zach got his shit together, pulled himself back. “Uh, probably easier if you get on your hands and knees.” Easier, and also he didn’t entirely trust himself to do this face-to-face and not fuck things up beyond repair.

It took Nate a minute to collect his gross motor skills and sit up, but he went over onto his knees easily, without arguing. Zach just looked down at him, the broad expanse of his back, muscle shifting as he tensed in anticipation. God, it was something.

Nate heard it when Zach ripped open the condom packet, flinched a little, but he kept his head down, like if he looked it might be too much to bear.

Zach did it slowly, but he did it. There was the initial resistance, but when Nate relaxed, it—it felt—itwasalmost too much to bear, the noise Nate made almost ended him. Zach asked, “Is this okay?”

“It’s fine, it’s just, you, a lot, it’s a lot.”

“I’m going to move.”

“I can handle it, please—”

So Zach moved.

Slowly at first, rocking himself deeper, greedily reacting to the way Nate gasped each time, the way he moaned when Zach hit a particularly sensitive spot. He felt so fucking good. Not just the way he was clenched around Zach, but how his body felt with Zach’s draped over it, strong enough to support both of their weight even now, when his eyes were screwed shut and his face was buried in a pillow. The slick sweat slippery between them, the way Nate’s hands scrabbled to try to catch Zach’s in his own. When Nate started to push back into him, Zach, panting, stopped holding back. It was too much, not enough, agony stretching this out. Something had to give, and that something was Zach.

If Zach had lost control of himself, Nate wasn’t much better. Nate, his captain, usually so careful, so anxious and buttoned-up, completely falling apart underneath him. He was loud. Zach thought maybe this was what winning the Cup would feel like.

Oh, Jesus, Nate wasreallyloud.

“Shh, shh,” Zach gasped, remembering too damn late that there were other guys from the team staying on the floor, “baby, we gotta be quiet, we can’t—”

“Ican’t. Please, oh, god...”

“Let me, let me.”

“Anything, anything...”

Nate made a wounded noise when Zach started jerking him off, overstimulated and oversensitive, his head twisting back to try for a kiss. It was an awkward angle and mostly their teeth bumped together. Zach’s head was ringing when, with a ragged gasp, Nate’s head dropped again and he convulsed and came.

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