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Kevin wasn’t sure how all of this had started.
He’d never known how to ask for things that he wanted. It was hard, when most of his life consisted of being told exactly where to go and what to say and how to be.
Jeremy, Captain of the Sunshine Court, had taken to calling him the day after games. It was a tradition had started after the Foxes’ first win, and now Kevin wouldn’t let his phone out of his sight on Saturdays.
Jeremy was always genuinely excited. It was so novel to Kevin that someone he’d looked up to, someone that he’d always seen as the unattainable pinnacle of balancing exy and living, cared enough to watch his games.
That wasn’t it, though, was it? Because it made sense for the captain of one of the big three teams in NCAA exy to watch the Foxes as they began their ascent. Jeremy should be keeping up with all the teams, really.
But he wasn’t calling all the teams. And he wasn’t calling Dan.
He was calling Kevin.
The two had been watching each other since the beginning of their college careers. It was no secret how much Kevin admired the Trojans. If he watched Jeremy play with a bit more than strictly professional interest, it wasn’t something that he could ever bear to acknowledge.
It made him feel guilty, a little perverted and disgusting, when he got half-hard the first time he heard Jeremy say “You were so good.”
That night had ended in quick excuses to get off the phone, multiple very guilty rounds of jerking off, and copious amounts of alcohol.
After that, it was like Jeremy knew. He went out of his way to speak gently rather than with his usual enthusiasm as he praised Kevin.
Kevin tried to put a stop to it, tried to beat around the bush about why he didn’t want Jeremy to call him. Jeremy; it seemed, was blond, but not stupid.
He had just come out and asked if it turned him on to be praised over the phone.
Kevin’s silence and then stuttered excuses were more than enough of an answer.
“Next time,” Jeremy asked, “Touch yourself while we talk?”
So he supposed it was his own fault, really, because he’d had every chance to say no. He didn’t know how to say no to something he wanted so badly.
The electric enthusiasm that Kevin felt as he stepped onto the court starting their next game was even more overpowering than usual. It felt like the need to perform, to smile for the cameras then put his head down and make every shot he took, had overtaken him. The want to succeed was like a bird of prey with its talons in his shoulders. Jeremy was watching. He wanted to be good for Jeremy.
It was an urge that held him up during the game, pumping blood through his muscles and pushing him to run faster than he ever thought that he could. The same urge brought him to his knees afterwards, exhausted in the shower, feeling weak at the thought of what was to come.
It had lined up so that the Trojans had a bye week, so Kevin knew that Jeremy had watched the game live. He could expect a call anytime.
It was difficult to extricate himself from his teammates wanting to celebrate their win, and even more difficult to dodge Coach’s concerned look.
“I’m not going to drink tonight. Promise.” Kevin told him, unprompted. Wymack only looked more confused, but he nodded and turned away.
Luckily, his roommates had been roped into the celebration, so he had the dorm to himself for the evening. Every single muscle in his body felt loose and weak as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
His phone sat like a weight in his hand. He looked at the time. He looked at his texts. He looked at the ceiling. He looked down at himself and, realizing he was wearing jeans, decided to change into sweats.
Kevin had just gotten settled down again when his phone rang. He swallowed hard and picked up, choking out “Hello?”
“Another win for the Foxes!” Jeremy exclaimed, sounding as bright as ever and only slightly crackly over the long-distance call. “How does it feel?”
“It feels great.”
“You played so well tonight! You were amazing, Kev.”
Kevin’s dick twitched, the fire in his lower stomach stirring to life at that.
“Thank you,” He replied, internally cringing at how breathless he sounded.
“Is this still okay?” Jeremy asked, voice going low and gentle. The tone with which he asked felt like safety to Kevin. There was no edge in the question, no implication that there was a right or wrong answer.
“Yes. I- I still want to.”
“Okay. Tell me if that changes. And know that I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.” Jeremy paused for a moment. “You’re very talented.”
Kevin took a deep breath and squeezed his thighs together. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything yet, couldn’t wrap his head around the thought of getting off with Jeremy on the phone. His arousal was building, hot, heavy, and throbbing, but all he could do was sit with it. Something about pleasuring himself always made him feel a bit like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. It was easier to relax and get out of his head if someone else was touching him, if he didn’t have to feel his own body.
“Some of the goals you make just blow me away,” Jeremy continued. “That shot right before the end of second quarter? I never could have made that.”
“You could have,” Kevin disagreed. “Your struggle would have been getting their backliner off of you so you could take the shot.”
“Hey now,” Jeremy replied lightly. “It was nice to see you smile a couple times, too. I know you take exy seriously, but you’re so pretty when you smile.”
Pretty.
A pleasurable shudder ran down Kevin’s spine. He went quiet for a moment, and Jeremy chuckled lowly.
“Oh, you liked that? Everything about you is pretty, Kev. I’ve always thought that.”
Kevin brought a reluctant hand down to cup the tent in his pants, applying light pressure with the heel of his hand. The movement elicited a soft gasp, the sound filling the empty room, echoing in the inside of his own skull.
“There you go. That’s good, isn’t it? You’re so good for me.”
“Jeremy,” Kevin groaned as his hips bucked involuntarily against the pressure of his own hand. He had never touched himself like this before- it had always seemed inefficient. But something about the desperate grinding felt correct. He moved his hand lower, down to his balls, experimenting with pressure and the friction of his clothes against the sensitive skin.
“It was a really good game. When you guys were tied in the third quarter? I was on the edge of my seat. But you pulled through. It never fails to impress me. And I know the Foxes couldn’t have done it without you. They’re lucky to have you on their team.”
Kevin looked down to see a wet spot forming on the front of his pants, dark on the gray sweats. He was hard and desperate and leaking, watching in awe as his fingers slid across damp fabric. The sight was almost out-of-body, but not wholly unpleasant.
“I’m so…” Kevin tried, but he couldn’t get the word out.
Wet.
His cheeks felt like they were on fire, blushing all the way to his ears and down his neck. The lack of blood in his brain had made him stupid. It was too late in the encounter to manage a coherent sentence.
“What is it, lovely?”
“Fuck,” Kevin whimpered. The pet name came out of left field, but of course Jeremy used sweet endearments like that. Kevin knew the word wasn’t meant for him, didn’t apply to him, but it wrecked him nonetheless. “Feels good.”
“You sound gone, Kev. You’re so…doing so well for me.” Jeremy’s breath hitched just a bit as he spoke, and Kevin’s hand froze in place, pressing almost painfully hard against his crotch.
“Are you…are you getting off?”
“I…Yeah. I just…is that okay?”
Kevin was so horny he thought he might fall unconscious. In a bold move, he reached up under the hem of his shirt, running gentle fingers over his own torso. The sensation was entirely different than what he had been doing previously, but no less deliriously pleasurable. He squeezed one of his nipples and felt it grow hard under the touch. His whole body give an involuntary shudder, every muscle twitching all the way down to his toes.
Touching his own chest was something that he usually avoided; it felt good, but it always made him feel a little ashamed when he got off on it. He’d never had a partner do it. He wondered if Jeremy would, if he could make him come undone with gentle hands on his chest. Kevin knew that he didn’t deserve Jeremy’s touch, that it was something far out of reach for him, but he couldn’t help but imagining it.
“Kev?”
It had been so easy to get lost in the sensation that he had forgotten that Jeremy had asked a question.
“Yes, sorry. Yes. Whatever you want, Jeremy.”
“You’re such a sweet thing,” He breathed in response, and the praise had Kevin’s hips bucking upwards into nothing.
Regretting that he only had use of one of his hands, he reluctantly reached back down to the bulge in his pants, using the pads of his fingers to rub over the head where it strained against the soft fabric. Everything was soft and pleasurable- Jeremy’s voice, his own hands, his clothes. His head felt cloudy and light. It grew harder by the second for his eyes to focus.
“Thank you, Jeremy.”
Jeremy chuckled at him, low and breathy. “Don’t thank me. You’re doing all the hard work. I’m so proud of you.”
Kevin moaned softly and squeezed his hand tight around himself, trying to stave off the impending orgasm. It felt like someone had dropped a match down his throat into the pile of kindling in his lower stomach. He was going up in flames. He had never felt like this before.
The front of his sweats were slick and dark with precum; the wet spot was nearly the size of his own palm now. Every movement of his hand was bringing him closer to the edge. The urge to prolong this if it meant hearing Jeremy’s voice in his ear a bit longer was nearly overwhelming, but his head was too full of sweet, ephemeral pleasure, light like cotton candy, to stop himself.
“ ‘M close,” Kevin slurred, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.
“Go ahead, don’t stop.”
Kevin dragged the heel of his hand forcefully all the way up his crotch, moving slow, waiting until he found the spot that felt the best. When he found it his hips nearly jerked out of the chair, body chasing the stimulation so desperately that he couldn’t get himself off fast enough. Another soft moan fell from his lips, and he heard Jeremy curse under his breath.
“You can be louder for me, can’t you? Go ahead sweet thing, I wanna hear you.”
Everything went white as hot pleasure wracked his entire body. The only thing he could manage to focus on was gripping his phone to his ear, holding it tight enough to break it, as he shuddered through his orgasm.
Jeremy’s name came out of his mouth over and over, like a plea or a prayer. He barely recognized his own voice, needy and strung-out as he begged for something he couldn’t name.
As he came down, everything was sticky and hot and he couldn’t bear to wrap his head around what he’d just done. His legs were still shaking as he pulled his damp hand away from his ruined sweats, wiping it off on the hem of his shirt.
“There you go, how was that?” Jeremy asked, voice even and soothing. No one had ever spoken to Kevin that way, especially in a sexual context. He knew that he was much more fun to belittle and break, that it was what he deserved. It was all he’d known.
Euphoria and shame battled for a place to take hold in his chest. He thought of Jeremy’s arms, muscled and golden and freckled. He could see them in his mind’s eye as vividly as if the two of them were in the same room. Being wrapped up in his grasp, pulled firmly against his warm chest, would feel heavenly. Kevin needed to be held like he needed oxygen, and the lack of both as he tried to catch his breath had tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He tended to dissociate after sexual encounters, not cry, but he was full of feelings far too large for his body to contain. He felt small and desperate and needy and it was awful.
“Thank you,” Kevin whispered into the phone. “Thank you for doing that.”
“Do you need…” Jeremy started, concern colouring his tone.
Kevin had no idea what he needed, but fuck, did he need. The unnameable emotions were working their way from his stomach up his throat, threatening to choke him.
“I have to go,” Kevin cut him off. The knowledge of what Jeremy had just given him was a double edged sword coupled with the knowledge that it was over now. It was time to be alone; there was nothing else that Jeremy could give him.
He hung up the phone and let it drop to the floor. He desperately wanted to curl in on himself, to make himself small under his blankets and hope for sleep, but he couldn’t lie down until he showered. Instead, he stared at the phone on the ground until he couldn’t anymore, then squeezed his eyes shut and let hot tears run down his face.