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The echo of the skimmer net splashing against the surface of the campus pool was the only sound in the cavernous, dimly lit aquatic center. Nakamura Okuto, a first year swimmer, was scrubbing the tile edges with a bristle brush, his pale skin flushed pink with irritation.
It was entirely Coach Mukai’s fault. The man was usually so easygoing, often strolling into practice with a bento box and a terrible pun about "diving into work," but today, Nakamura’s string of tardies had finally broken the coach’s cool. Mukai had simply smiled that warm, humorous smile of his and said, "Since you love rushing so much, Nakamura, you can rush to clean the pool tonight!" It didn't matter that Nakamura’s early morning professor was threatening to fail him; rules were rules.
Nakamura sat back on his heels, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. His slender, lanky frame was exhausted. He wore his black swim jammers and an unzipped team jacket, his short black hair falling in a damp, cute bowl cut over his sharp eyes.
A sudden metallic clatter at the side entrance made him jump.
The door clicked shut, and a figure stepped out from the shadows. Nakamura’s sharp pupils constricted. The guy was huge...not giant, but a solid 6'2", towering over Nakamura’s 5'7" frame. He wore a jogging suit in a obnoxious bluish green color, the fabric stretching over broad, athletic shoulders. He had tan skin, a forehead prominently exposed beneath black side swept bangs, and soft, shiny grey eyes that were currently staring holes into Nakamura.
"The door was locked," Nakamura said, his voice coming out sharper than intended, his tsundere defenses flaring up instantly. "Who the hell are you?"
"Matsumura Kousei," the intruder said, his voice deep and oddly calm, though there was an intense, unblinking quality to his gaze. "Second year. Basketball. I saw the light on."
"So you broke in?" Nakamura scoffed, standing up. Even standing, the height difference was glaring. Nakamura had to tilt his chin up to meet those weirdly intense grey eyes. "This is the swim building, jock. Courts are outside."
"The courts were taken," Matsumura said, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, radiating heat and a strange, persistent energy. "I needed to burn off energy. But then I saw you."
Matsumura’s grey eyes dragged down Nakamura’s body, pausing on his plump lips and the slender curve of his waist. "You’re small. Are all swimmers this tiny, or just you?"
Nakamura’s eye twitched. "I'm not tiny, you oversized ape! I'm streamlined! And you're trespassing!"
"Cute when you're mad," Matsumura said, a weird, almost creepy little smile touching his lips. It wasn't aggressive, just... intensely focused. "You look like a wet kitten. A very angry, small kitten."
"I am not cute!" Nakamura pouted, his plush lips pushing out involuntarily. He hated how his heart gave a traitorous little thump. The guy was a weirdo, but he was undeniably handsome, in an intensely annoying sort of way. "Get out before I call campus security!"
"Make me," Matsumura challenged, his smile widening.
Nakamura threw his brush into the bucket with a splash. "Fine! Drown in the deep end for all I care! I'm taking a shower."
He stomped off toward the communal showers, stripping off his jacket as he went. He turned the handle, letting hot water cascade over his pale, soft skin. He was just lathering his hands, trying to wash the chlorine away, when he heard the squelch of wet sneakers.
"You left the door open," Matsumura’s voice rumbled.
Nakamura spun around, slipping slightly on the wet tile. Matsumura caught his arm easily. The contrast was jarring...Matsumura’s hand was massive, his long fingers rough and calloused from years of gripping basketballs, wrapping entirely around Nakamura’s slender, incredibly soft bicep.
"I didn't invite you in!" Nakamura snapped, though he didn't pull away. The heat of Matsumura’s palm was burning through his chilled skin.
"You're showering with your trunks on," Matsumura observed, stepping under the spray. The water soaked his bluish green joggers and the tight shirt underneath, molding to his muscular chest. "That’s inefficient."
"Why are you still here?!" Nakamura sputtered, his pale face flushing crimson.
Matsumura leaned down, his face inches from Nakamura’s. The height difference forced Nakamura to crane his neck. "Because you're interesting. And I want to touch you."
"Y..You can't just say that!" Nakamura stammered, his tsundere front cracking as a large, calloused hand slid up his slick, soft chest. "We're strangers!"
"Not anymore," Matsumura murmured, his thumb brushing over Nakamura’s nipple. The rough texture against his sensitive skin made Nakamura gasp, a soft, pathetic sound that echoed off the tiles. "I'm Matsumura. You are?"
"N..Nakamura," he breathed, his sharp eyes fluttering shut.
"See? We're practically best friends now," Matsumura said, his weird logic somehow making Nakamura’s head spin. Matsumura’s other hand cupped the back of Nakamura’s head, tangling in his bowl cut, and pulled him in for a kiss.
It was messy and aggressive. Nakamura tried to bite Matsumura’s lip to push him back, but Matsumura just groaned, his thick tongue pushing past Nakamura’s plump lips, dominating the kiss. Nakamura’s soft hands pushed against Matsumura’s broad chest, but the basketball player was an immovable wall.
"You taste like chlorine," Matsumura panted against his mouth.
"And you taste like annoying!" Nakamura retorted, though his hands were now fisting in Matsumura’s wet shirt.
"God, you're so irritating," Matsumura muttered, his grey eyes dark with lust. "It makes me so hard."
"Disgusting," Nakamura sneered, though his own arousal was painfully obvious, straining against his wet swim trunks.
Matsumura shoved Nakamura’s trunks down, letting them slap wetly against the shower floor. Nakamura’s small, pale penis stood erect, flushed pink at the tip, looking incredibly delicate. Matsumura groaned, a low, rumbling sound in his chest, as he immediately shucked his own soaked joggers and underwear.
Nakamura’s sharp eyes went wide. Matsumura’s cock was massive, thick and veiny, and a deep, dark brown...several shades darker than the rest of his tanned skin, a blatant testament to high testosterone. It bobbed heavily between his thighs, making Nakamura’s mouth go dry.
"You've got to be kidding me," Nakamura whispered, staring at it. "That's not fitting anywhere."
"We'll make it fit," Matsumura said confidently, wrapping a large, calloused hand around his own dark shaft, stroking it slowly. "Get on your knees, small fry."
"Don't call me that!" Nakamura barked, but his knees were already buckling. He sank onto the wet tile, the hot water hitting his back as he came face to face with Matsumura’s monstrous erection. It smelled musky, overwhelmingly male. Nakamura swallowed his pride...and the tip.
"Fuck," Matsumura hissed, his large hands immediately gripping the sides of Nakamura’s head. "Your mouth is so soft. Like the rest of you."
Nakamura tried to retort, but his mouth was full. He sucked hard, his soft lips stretching obscenely around the thick, dark girth. The contrast was staggering...Matsumura’s dark, heavy cock disappearing between Nakamura’s pale, plump lips. Matsumura couldn't help himself; his hips snapped forward, thrusting deep.
"Gkk..." Nakamura choked, his hands slapping against Matsumura’s muscular, wet thighs as the basketball player began to face fuck him in earnest. The heavy head battered the back of his throat, saliva and water mixing as Nakamura struggled to deepthroat the monster.
"Take it," Matsumura grunted, his calm demeanor completely shattered, replaced by raw, competitive drive. "You talk so much trash, Nakamura. Use that throat for something better."
"Mmph! Shtop iht!" Nakamura garbled around the shaft, tears pricking his sharp eyes. But he didn't pull away. He was a freak for this, matching Matsumura's energy, his own small pale cock twitching neglected between his thighs.
Matsumura pulled out with a wet pop, leaving Nakamura gasping for air, coughing and glaring up at him. "You're terrible at this," Nakamura rasped, his voice hoarse.
"You're terrible at shutting up," Matsumura shot back, pulling Nakamura up by his armpits as if he weighed nothing. "Turn around."
"I'm not a dog..."
"Turn. Around." Matsumura’s voice was low, intense, his grey eyes boring into Nakamura’s.
Nakamura shuddered, his tsundere resolve melting under that weird, intense stare. He turned around, pressing his soft, pale palms flat against the slick shower wall. He stuck his plump ass out, his slender back arching beautifully.
"Look at this," Matsumura murmured, dropping to his knees. His large, rough hands gripped Nakamura’s plush, pale cheeks, spreading them open. The contrast of Matsumura’s tan, calloused hands against Nakamura’s flawless, soft skin was intoxicating.
Without warning, Matsumura buried his face between Nakamura’s cheeks.
"A..Ah! Hey!" Nakamura yelped, his spine jerking. "What are you...nngh!"
Matsumura’s tongue was relentless, broad and wet, lapping at Nakamura’s hole with the same competitive energy he brought to the court. He ate ass like it was his job, his calloused thumbs digging into Nakamura’s soft flesh to keep him spread open, his tongue pushing past the tight ring of muscle.
"Stop! It's dirty!" Nakamura whined, his face burning, though his hips were pushing back into Matsumura’s face.
"It's clean, you're in the shower," Matsumura mumbled against his skin, the vibrations making Nakamura whine. "And you taste amazing. Stop complaining."
"I wouldn't complain if you were any good at it!" Nakamura lied, his voice breathless.
Matsumura pulled back, panting. "Brat." He stood up, reaching for a bottle of conditioner on the shelf. He squeezed a generous amount onto his thick fingers.
"This is going to feel weird," Matsumura warned, pressing a large, calloused finger against Nakamura’s entrance.
"Just shut up and do it," Nakamura huffed, resting his forehead against the tile.
The first finger slipped in, the rough ridge of Matsumura’s calloused digit dragging against Nakamura’s inner walls, sending jolts of strange, intense pleasure through him. Nakamura gasped, his soft hands slipping on the tiles. Matsumura added a second finger, scissoring them, stretching Nakamura open with a methodical, persistent impatience.
"You're so tight," Matsumura grunted, his chest heaving. "Like you've never taken anything this big."
"Maybe I haven't," Nakamura snapped back, looking over his shoulder with a defiant pout. "Think you can handle it, point guard?"
"I carried the team to the championship last year," Matsumura said, his grey eyes flashing. "I can handle you."
He pulled his fingers out, slicked up his dark, heavy cock with more conditioner, and pressed the blunt tip against Nakamura’s entrance.
"Wait, not here," Nakamura gasped suddenly, his rational mind catching up. "The shower floor is slippery. I don't want to crack my skull open while you're..."
Matsumura didn't argue. He simply hooked his large arms under Nakamura’s thighs and lifted. Nakamura yelped, his legs wrapping tightly around Matsumura’s waist, his arms looping around the basketball player's broad shoulders. The sheer strength of the man was absurd. Matsumura carried him out of the shower stall, water dripping from their bodies, straight to the edge of the pool.
"What are you doing?!" Nakamura shrieked.
"Washing off," Matsumura said, and stepped straight into the shallow end.
The lukewarm water enveloped them, rising to Matsumura’s waist...and Nakamura’s chest. The pool lights cast rippling blue shadows across Matsumura’s tan, muscular chest. Matsumura walked them to the pool wall, pressing Nakamura’s back against the smooth, wet tile edge.
"Better?" Matsumura asked, his soft grey eyes searching Nakamura’s face.
Nakamura stared at him. The weird, intense giant was being considerate. It was annoying. It was... adorable. "You're so weird," Nakamura muttered, his tsundere front barely holding. "Just put it in already."
Matsumura didn't need to be told twice. He positioned his dark, thick cock at Nakamura’s entrance and pushed.
"A..Ah! Wait!" Nakamura cried out, his nails digging into Matsumura’s wet shoulders. The stretch was intense, the sheer girth of the dark shaft forcing his soft, tight walls apart. It felt like being split open, the deep color of Matsumura’s cock disappearing into Nakamura’s pale body.
"Relax," Matsumura groaned, his forehead resting against Nakamura’s. "You're so soft inside, Nakamura. So warm."
"Don't... don't talk like that," Nakamura panted, his sharp eyes squeezed shut, his plump lips parted. "It's creepy."
"You like it," Matsumura whispered, pulling back and snapping his hips forward.
The water in the pool sloshed violently around them as Matsumura set a brutal, relentless pace. He held Nakamura’s waist with his large, calloused hands, the grip bruising on his soft skin, as he fucked him deep and hard against the pool wall.
"Ah! Ah! Slow down, you brute!" Nakamura wailed, though his hips were rolling to meet Matsumura’s thrusts. The water provided a dizzying buoyancy, allowing Matsumura to slam into him with the full force of his athletic body.
"You're still talking," Matsumura grunted, driving his dark, heavy cock deeper, hitting that spot inside Nakamura that made his vision white out. "You're so annoying."
"Look who's talking!" Nakamura retorted, his voice breaking into a moan. "You broke in here just to...nngh! Just to harass me!"
"You're the one with the cute pout," Matsumura panted, his soft grey eyes intense and fixed on Nakamura’s flushed face. "Couldn't help it. Wanted to see you fall apart."
Nakamura’s small, pale cock was trapped between their stomachs, the friction of Matsumura’s abs driving him crazy. "I'm not...I'm not falling apart!"
"Sure you're not," Matsumura said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He shifted his grip, one large hand moving to grip Nakamura’s thigh, pushing it higher to angle deeper.
The new angle was devastating. Matsumura’s huge, dark cock slammed against Nakamura’s prostate with unerring accuracy. Nakamura’s head threw back, a loud, unabashed moan tearing from his throat.
"There it is," Matsumura growled, his rhythm turning savage, the water churning around them. "Scream for me, little swimmer."
"I hate you," Nakamura sobbed, his soft hands helplessly scratching at Matsumura’s broad back. "I hate your weird face and your dumb green joggers...ah!...and your stupid, giant...!"
"Your trash talk needs work," Matsumura grunted, his own breathing ragged. The sight of Nakamura’s delicate, pale frame impaled on his dark cock, the boy's sharp eyes hazy with pleasure and his plump lips swollen, was pushing him over the edge.
"Shut up! I'm gonna..." Nakamura whined, his walls clamping down hard around Matsumura.
With a final, desperate moan, Nakamura came. His small, pale cock twitched violently between them, spurting thin ropes of cum that washed away instantly in the pool water. His soft body trembled violently in Matsumura’s grip.
The tight, rhythmic clenching of Nakamura’s orgasm was too much for Matsumura. He let out a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt, his dark shaft fully sheathed in Nakamura’s pale body as he came hard, filling him with thick, hot pulses.
They stayed like that for a long moment, the only sounds their heavy breathing and the gentle lapping of the pool water against the tiles.
Matsumura finally pulled back, his grey eyes softening as he looked at the thoroughly wrecked swimmer. "You okay?"
Nakamura’s face was flushed a deep, permanent red. He shoved weakly at Matsumura’s chest. "Get off me, you creep. You got conditioner in the pool. Mukai is going to kill me."
"You're worried about the pool right now?" Matsumura laughed, that weird, calm demeanor returning as he gently lifted Nakamura off his softening cock, holding him steady in the water. "I think I need your number."
"Absolutely not," Nakamura huffed, though he didn't let go of Matsumura’s shoulders, his soft hands lingering on the warm, wet skin. "You're a menace."
"A menace you just had sex with in a campus pool," Matsumura pointed out, a weird, fond smile on his face. "Freak."
"Takes one to know one," Nakamura muttered, pouting. But as he looked up at the tall, weird basketball player, he couldn't help but think that maybe being forced to clean the pool wasn't the worst punishment in the world.