Epilogue

 

 

BRIAN STOOD at his dresser, tugging T-shirts and underwear out of a drawer, counting out enough for one per day plus one extra. Years of packing for meets made that an ingrained habit. His mom would be so proud.

Chuckling to himself, he tossed a bunch of socks at one of the two large gym bags sitting open on the bed.

Chris came back from his old room with a stack of clothes, and Brian waited for him to pack them before handing over a bag from the local sports store.

“I wanted to mark the occasion.” Chris’s first competition. It was definitely worth marking.

“What’s in it?” Chris didn’t wait for him to answer but opened the bag and grinned at the track jacket. Red and white, with Team Allen across the shoulders, Brian knew it would look great on Chris, like his looked on him.

“Oh man. Man, this is cool.”

Brian nodded. “Everyone who doesn’t recognize you is going to want to know who you are as soon as you get up on the apparatus and start winning. And I’ve got one as well—so they’ll all know I’m with you.”

“That rocks.” Chris tugged the jacket on, turning to show it off. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s awesome. Very professional.” Brian grinned. “You look hot.”

Chris grinned, eyes shining, blond hair cut short-short. “You like?”

He nodded. “I do. You want to see mine?” He wasn’t so much into showing it off as he was trying to keep from jumping Chris.

“Yeah. Model it for me, stud.”

Chris’s laugh made him goddammed happy. Chuckling, he tugged it on and turned slowly, loving that they matched, that people would know they were together, a team. “Yeah? Does it look as good on me as it looks on you?”

“I like how it makes your ass look, man.” Chris leaned back against the wall, licking his lips.

“Yeah?” He turned around again and wiggled his ass at Chris.

Maybe starting a little something was just what the doctor ordered to make sure Chris’s nerves stayed at ease.

“Yeah. It’s nice and compact, tight. I approve.”

“Oh, good. I’ve been worried, you know. About whether or not you approved of my ass.” Brian turned back and winked.

“Like the last time we got busy I didn’t prove it.” Chris pinked a little, thumbs caught in his jeans pockets, fingers framing his cock.

Brian licked his lips and groaned as memories of last night flooded back. “Yeah. Oh, yeah. You did.”

He moved slowly toward Chris, staring at that pretty package.

“You going to prove how you feel about my ass tonight, coach?” One finger traced along Chris’s shaft.

“I am. And your mouth and your belly and those pretty little nipples of yours. Oh yeah. And your cock.”

“Mmm.” The cock in question jerked, a tiny dark spot becoming visible on the jeans.

“Oh God, Chris.”

He grabbed Chris’s arms and tugged the lean body up against his, bringing their mouths together.

Chris’s mouth was sweet as sugar and ten times as addictive. Chris crawled up along his body and humped against his leg.

Groaning, Brian staggered backward toward the bed, kept going until it hit the back of his legs.

They went down with a thud, Chris staring at him from above, hips still moving, begging him for more.

He pushed the bags off the bed with one arm and then rolled them, humping against Chris as he pushed his tongue deep.

Chris sucked his tongue, the tug and pull enough to make him crazed.

He pushed a hand between them, pinching Chris’s nipples through his T-shirt, his cock throbbing, needing. The buds tightened right up for him, sweet and pink, hard as pebbles.

Brian broke the kiss and pushed Chris’s T-shirt up, then moved his mouth onto those tempting little bits of flesh.

God, Chris tasted good.

Brian scraped his teeth across the tip of one nipple and followed with his tongue, circling and licking.

“Bri. Fuck. I need, huh? Please?” Chris scrabbled at his own jeans, freeing his heavy prick.

Groaning again, Brian slid down Chris’s body, biting and nipping at Chris’s belly as he went. The belly he loved so much, the muscles jerking and jumping for him as his tongue played in Chris’s navel and over the beautiful ridges of his abs.

Chris started babbling, moaning, and twisting, his cock slapping his hard belly.

Brian lapped at the wet spots it left, teasing them both until he couldn’t stand it anymore, Chris’s movements becoming frantic. Then he wrapped his lips around the head, sucking hard, licking the liquid right off the tip.

“Bri!” Chris pushed into his lips, fucking his mouth with single-minded determination, spreading Brian’s lips wide.

Brian tilted his head for a better angle and slipped his hands beneath Chris’s ass, fingers digging in as he encouraged the motions. Humming and sucking, he reveled in the hot silk that slid over his tongue.

“Gonna. Gonna, man. I can’t. Fuck.”

He nodded as best he could, hands squeezing Chris’s ass tighter. Come on, give.

Give Chris did, spunk pouring into Brian’s mouth, bitter and salty and male.

He swallowed it down, the flavor filling his belly, his mouth, his nose. Chris’s pleasure was so good.

Moaning softly, he continued to suck gently, tongue cleaning Chris’s cock.

“Love.” Chris moaned.

“Yeah, love.”

Brian tugged Chris’s jeans off, watching the muscles of Chris’s chest and belly move as Chris helped him, tried to wriggle out of the denim. He placed a sucking kiss on Chris’s inner thigh, slowly spreading the long legs, moaning out his need.

“Want you in me. Want to feel,” Chris demanded.

“Uh-huh.” Brian nodded, fingering Chris’s balls, groping behind them, the heat hidden there incredible. “Lube,” he muttered, waving toward the side table.

Chris chuckled, handing the tube of slick to him, legs spread wide, exposing that tight ring of muscle to Brian’s greedy gaze.

Brian held on to the tube for a moment, gripping it tightly as he surged forward and lapped at Chris’s skin. Chris’s chuckle faded into a moan, and Brian licked again, then pushed his tongue right into Chris, wanting to hear the needy babble.

“Bri. Bri, please. Oh God. Please. Fuck.” Chris’s hips tilted, body beginning to ride Brian’s tongue.

He fucked Chris’s ass, running his fingers over the warm skin, touching and stroking as his own hips humped the bed, grinding his aching cock against the mattress.

“Brian. Get. Up. Here. And. Fuck. Me.”

He would have laughed if he weren’t aching so badly, if he didn’t need so much.

“Gimme your hand,” he growled, slicking Chris’s fingers up as soon as Chris did.

He guided them to Chris’s ass, groaning as he pushed them in. It only took him a second to shimmy out of his own jeans, watching Chris spread that little hole for him all the while.

“Yours too.” Chris raised one knee, spreading himself wider.

Brian’s fingers trembled as he grabbed the lube and squeezed more of the slick out. Then he tossed it out of the way, and moaning, he pushed two fingers in with Chris’s.

It made him whimper, the heat and silkiness of Chris’s body and the rigidity of Chris’s fingers in there with his own.

“Fuck. Full. Fucking full.” Babbling. He loved Chris’s babble.

He slid a third finger in, Chris’s body gripping their fingers, stretched so wide around them.

“Oh God. Can’t wait.”

Brian pulled his fingers out and settled between Chris’s legs, cock bumping Chris’s hand as he waited impatiently for Chris to remove his fingers too.

Chris stroked Brian’s cock once, then lined him up, that tight ring of muscles teasing the hell out of the tip of Brian’s prick, making him buck and jerk.

“Chris….” It was a whimper more than anything, and he shuddered, the movement pushing the head of his cock past the initial resistance. From there he sank right in, his eyes catching hold of Chris’s, connecting them more than physically.

“Uh-huh.” Chris smiled at him, bearing down and taking him deep.

Oh God. Oh fuck.

There was nothing like this, like being buried balls deep inside Chris. Not even the thrill of competing or of watching Chris really rock a routine came anywhere near this.

Brian panted, staying still and deep for a few breaths, and then he started to move.

Chris moved with him, hips rolling, head thrown back as all those muscles worked to pleasure him, to touch him.

Slowly at first, their bodies came together over and over again, Chris’s flesh holding Brian in, clinging to his cock with every tug away and welcoming him on every thrust in.

“Good,” Brian muttered, the word fading into a sound that he couldn’t contain as his hips picked up speed.

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.” Chris nodded and moaned. Brian slipped a bit on the bed, sliding out of Chris’s hole, and Chris turned to kneel, hands on the headboard. “Good and hard, Bri.”

“Fuck yes.”

Nodding, Brian moved forward and wrapped his hands around Chris’s hips, holding on tight as he pushed back in. Chris’s hole resisted for a split second and then stretched around his prick, and he sank all the way in, hard and deep. God yes.

Chris groaned, head falling back against Brian’s shoulder, lips open and eyes closed.

So fucking gorgeous. Even the scars that marred Chris’s back added to his beauty, made what he was doing incredible as well as amazing.

Brian fucked Chris faster, fingers digging into Chris’s hips as he pulled them back to meet his prick.

“Right there. Shit. Right fucking there.” Chris groaned, white-knuckling the headboard.

“Uh-huh. Right there.” Brian fucked Chris harder, faster, making sure he kept that spot stimulated, wanting to light Chris right up.

God, it felt good. Better than good.

“Gonna.” He didn’t need Chris to tell him; he could feel it all along his prick, the sensations enough to drive him mad.

He managed to pry one of his hands away from Chris’s hip and wrap it around Chris’s long, hard prick. Still thrusting hard, he started jacking Chris as well, upping the sensations.

Low, desperate sounds poured from Chris, that long cock jerking and swelling in Brian’s fingers.

“That’s it.” He could barely speak, but he managed to get the words out. Their skin slapped together noisily as he plunged into Chris over and over again. “Love you.”

Heat poured over his fingers, Chris’s ass rippling around him as Chris’s cry rang out through the room.

It was all he needed, his hips forcing his cock as deep as it would go as he shot, spunk spilling into Chris.

Groaning, he half collapsed against Chris, head on Chris’s good shoulder as he fought for his breath.

“Wow.” Man, Brian loved reducing Chris down to single syllables.

Brian kissed the warm, sweat-damp skin beneath his cheek, feeling fine from his head down to his toes.

It was with great reluctance that he pulled out of Chris, throwing himself down onto the bed next to his lover. “Hey,” he said, smiling into blue and green eyes.

“Hey.” Chris grinned, rubbing his nose against Brian’s.

Brian tilted his head enough to share a slow, lingering kiss with Chris.

They cuddled together for a while, enjoying the lazy afterglow.

Eventually his mind turned back to the competition they were headed off to. Chris’s first.

“You anxious about tomorrow?” he asked.

“Nah.” Chris looked like a bomb could go off and he wouldn’t stress it. “I’m melty.”

He laughed. Mission accomplished. “Good. Good. It’s going to be great. I can’t wait.”

It was what they’d been working toward all summer. What they’d almost lost when Chris had gone down those stairs.

“I’ve got a good chance to medal on the rings.”

“No, you’ve got a good chance to medal on the bar and the horse—you’ve got an excellent chance to medal on the rings.”

Brian grinned, excitement starting to wind through him again.

“And my chances at the All-around?”

Brian tilted his head and considered. “Damned good. And if you can land on your feet for the vault? It’s yours.”

When Chris was on his game, he was the best Brian had ever seen. “All you have to do is turn in your best performance and it’s yours.”

“Then we’re gold, man.” Chris rubbed against him. “I feel like it’s time. Mom and Pop sent a card for luck, had a hundred dollars in it too.”

“Yeah? Cool. We gonna use that for our celebration dinner?” Brian’s arms went around Chris, holding him close.

“You know it. Steak and brownies.” Chris was fading, eyes closing like a tired puppy’s.

He pressed a kiss to Chris’s lips and then lay there watching, holding his lover, his gymnast. His Chris.

Tomorrow everyone else would find out what he already knew.

That Christopher Allen was the best damned gymnast in the world, and every coach, from that asshole Serens to the idiots who’d given up on Chris, were going to be eating their shorts with envy.

And while that was going to be sweet, knowing that Chris was happy and was doing what he was meant to do, what he needed to do—that was his gold medal.

His fucking perfect ten.