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Jalen had gotten good at it.
That was something he was proud of, that he had gotten good at it. A quick press of his thumb and pointer to right under his eyes to quell the wave, and then approximately six minutes to get back to the locker room to grab his glasses. Shake it off, rinse, repeat.
It wasn’t his fault, part of him always protested, that he always started to cry when he had worked his body so fucking hard. One time, when they were back at ‘Nova, Josh had described it as “involveduary”. Jalen had snapped back ‘You mean involuntary, fucking idiot’ and that was the only interaction they’d ever had about it.
Josh had gotten him a pair of shades once, and it was the only time he’d ever been somewhat tactful. They didn’t talk about it, which was odd, because they’d always talked about everything, everything and anything. The word was like a plague, like a curse. Tired. Exhausted.
“You tired, JB?” Josh had asked, in college, swatting at the back of his head. Don’t get tired, Jalen had replied, voice tight. Donte had said that was tuff, but Josh had had a strained, thinning of his lips; the kind of look he got when Jalen would say catch you later, Dad asked me to stay late, or not tonight, I said I’d go out for dinner.
He’d tried to go to therapy a solitary time, but all he thought about was all of the energy and minutes he was wasting on whatever the hell that was. The therapist had asked him if he thought he was neurotic about his body. Yeah, probably, but the truth was, the thing he was the most neurotic about was Josh’s body, and Josh was even more neurotic about his, and didn’t that even things out?
Maybe that was why they wore those damn rings. Jalen liked the idea of opening his phone and checking up on the internal workings of Josh’s body like he was perpetually inside of it. Heart rate. Sleep. Blood oxygen. Blood pressure. Josh is walking, his steps went up. He’s climbing the stairs. He’s stressed, he’s stressed, he’s stressed. The thing he liked the most, however, was knowing that some nights Josh would roll over in bed, check the app, and monitor him back.
He reached into his wallet, pulled the ring out, almost dropped it on the concrete ground of the parking compound under Madison Square Garden. He slipped it on. He wondered if it made Josh’s phone ping, let him know Jalen was alive, let him know Jalen was kind of feeling a little bit like he was dying.
“Hey, loser!”
Loser was Jalen’s favorite thing that Josh called him, because he only ever called him that after they won.
“Fuck do you think you’re going?”
His voice echoed, stopping Jalen cold as he reached for the driver’s side door of his own Mercedes-Benz.
“Car.” Jalen called back, and the way his voice cracked betrayed him. He felt a hand land on his back.
“Wrong one.” Josh said, simply, and that was that.
Josh reached out and unlocked his car, Jalen following his hand. He noticed Josh had put his ring back on too. Jalen, unthinking and on autopilot, moved for the passenger seat.
“Wrong again.”
Jalen looked up, just a little.
“Huh?”
“Get in the back.”
Jalen shot Josh a dirty, nasty glare.
“There are fucking cameras in the vents here, Josh.”
Josh rolled his eyes.
“Not for that, weirdo. To lay down.”
Jalen wiped his face with the back of his hand, blinked where the tears burned. The ring caught against the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t need to.”
“Don’t care.”
“You’re not my Uber driver.”
“Just do it, you spoiled brat.”
Suddenly Josh had opened the back door, shoved Jalen in. He stood next to him, like he was going to buckle him, and Jalen thought he’d throttle him right then and there if he tried it.
“I hate you.”
Josh leaned in, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You gonna give me a kissy?”
Jalen glared, tried to make it good and hard and mean and mad, but he could tell it wasn’t working.
“There are microphones in the walls,” Jalen hissed. Josh took a step back, gave him a smirk, a real dumb smirk, a real obnoxious look up and down.
“You know how much money I make that man?” He replied, jeering. “I’m his star player.”
Jalen opened his mouth to say something, but then Josh was on it, which was actually good because Jalen was a little too wrecked to think of a comeback. Josh grabbed his face, pressed his palms against his cheeks, and when he pushed Jalen away he kept pushing, kept pushing, until Jalen was curled up on his side with his head against the leather before he knew it, chewing on the end of one of his braids. Somehow, Josh had gotten to the driver’s seat, and he was pulling out onto 31st and Jalen was crying, really sobbing now because he was really, really sore and the worst part of all was that Josh loved him so damn much that he had the decency to pretend that none of it was happening.
“I went plus 22 tonight,” Josh said, eyeing Jalen in the mirror as he got onto the West Side Highway. The red of the stoplight hit Josh’s jaw, slipped around the back of him when he full-body turned in his seat to look back. Jalen was feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, unnervingly reminded of when he’d get carsick as a kid and try to stop himself from throwing up.
“Thought you hated analytics.” Jalen said, trying to keep his voice flat.
“You proud of me?” Josh asked, as the light turned green. A car immediately laid on the horn behind them.
“No.”
“You think I did good?” Josh asked, waving a hand violently as someone cut them off. He released a string of curses.
“No.” Jalen said, which meant yes, which meant they were happy, and Jersey was shining over the Hudson, and finally, finally, his tears had stopped and so Jalen pushed himself up into a sitting position. He leaned forward and rested his head on Josh’s shoulder, moved to bite at the sliver of neck above his hoodie where the skin peeked through. Josh yelped.
“You want me to pull over?” Josh started, glancing at the now-open right lane. He hadn’t realized he’d been in the fast one. “You know, making out on the side of the road is how Jeffrey Dahmer got people.”
“You’re so fucking stupid. That’s not the right guy at all.” Jalen pulled back, just slightly, dropping his weight into Josh. Josh flinched.
“You’ve got a sharp ass chin. Don’t distract me. I’ll say we’re gonna win Eastern Conference.”
Jalen jerked away.
“I’ll crash this car and kill us both.”
A beat of silence, tense and immeasurable and exhausting.
“Lay back down, JB.”
Disgruntled, Jalen slipped back. He snaked a hand around the back of the driver’s seat, felt Josh tilt it back a bit so he could better reach. Josh took a hand off the wheel and brought it to Jalen’s, intertwining their fingers.
Jalen let out a shaky sigh. His upper cheeks felt tight where the tears had dried. Crackly. He opened his phone. Opened the app. Looked at the measurement of Josh’s stress: the slight spike, then this moment; the absence of it.
“Can I suck your dick when we get home?” Josh asked, rather conversationally, and Jalen tried to look annoyed even though he knew that Josh couldn’t see his face.
“I don’t like you.” Jalen said, flat, but his heart rate betrayed him. He prayed that Josh wouldn’t glance at the time, check his stats later to confirm his faux-apathy.
“You won’t let me take care of my baby?”
“You’re so annoying.” Jalen shot back, but his voice got quiet. He heard Josh laugh. He heard the car turn off. The garage close. When had they gotten back to the house?
Jalen scrambled to open his door before Josh could do it for him. Josh rolled his eyes.
“Loser.” Jalen mouthed, and pushed past him into the kitchen. He felt Josh trailing him. He didn’t have to look back to know that he was there. Following, always following. Following him to their lockers, to their dorm room, to the fucking New York Knicks. Jalen reached for a glass for water, filled it. 3 AM. Jesus.
“You back?” Josh said, a little too soft. Jalen turned around to look at him. Set his drink down.
“From where?” Jalen replied, trying to be annoyed, trying to act like the question didn’t unnerve him.
A shrug.
Jalen paused.
“Stop worrying and go to bed.”
He watched Josh weigh something internally, looking as if he was debating with himself. He finally settled back into his stance.
“Alright, Captain.”
Josh moved towards him, slinking, almost snakelike. Jalen scoffed.
“What’re you planning? C’mon, how about we just go to sleep."
“Or,” Josh cut in, eyes darting down and back up from Jalen’s lips. “How about we pretend we’re back at ‘Nova and you let me jerk you off?”
Jalen took a moment, paused. He dragged his eyes up and down Josh’s body, his loose sweats, his new hoodie. The vaguely pathetic look in his eyes.Those damn slides.
“How about you fuck me like we’re in the NBA, 22 down with 7:50 left and won in OT?”
Something in Josh’s eyes flickered, darkened.
“Yeah,” he muttered, voice husky. “Yeah, or we could do that.”
Jalen wasn’t sure if he had hopped up on the counter himself or if Josh had put him there, because their motions were too connected and too predictable and too natural to consciously map them. All Jalen knew was that now their eyes were even, now Josh was palming at his hardening dick, now Josh was grabbing the side of his head with one, firm hand and they were kissing, kissing and kissing and kissing, mouths wet and wide and sloppy and Jalen’s waistband was snapping back against Josh’s forearm as he shoved himself down into it.
“Hey, JB?” Josh groaned, fingers snaking around Jalen’s cock. Jalen let out an embarrassingly unintelligible moan. Go on. “I think we might be pretty good at basketball.”
Jalen was fumbling for him already, loosening his sweats, shoving them down. Josh was already hard, tenting his boxers, which was too bad because Jalen liked to hold his hand there. Liked to feel it happen.
“Might be,” He grinned, mouth meeting Josh’s, flushed and nasty and hungry and needing his free hand to drag itself down Josh’s stubble to steady them both. He sunk his teeth into Josh’s bottom lip, teasing, and felt him hiss.
“Fuck, look at you,” Josh groaned, Jalen’s touch ghosting over his slit. “Look at you, big eyes.”
He slid the kiss down the side of Jalen’s face, gross and wet and suddenly latching right below his jaw. Jalen needed to swat him off, yell at him that the last thing he needed was large, dark hickeys especially when they weren’t supposed to be having sex for the next ten fucking weeks. Jalen couldn’t help it, though, couldn’t help stifling his replies and melting into Josh’s touch.
“Big head,” Josh mumbled, and yelped when Jalen squeezed his cock in response. He pulled his hand out and held it to Jalen’s mouth, felt Jalen suck at his fingers. “Big dick.” Josh continued. “Big ass.”
“I’m gonna kill you,” Jalen slipped out, breathless and ragged, jerking violently as Josh’s palm pushed back past the underside of his dick with a slow drag. “Weirdo.” The nickname held no malice; it simply came out in a deeply pathetic tone. Josh laughed loosely, light, wrecked, his forehead falling to hit Jalen’s, his right arm pushing Jalen’s thighs open against the cool countertop. Jalen groaned.
“Keep killing me, baby.”
A deeply embarrassing noise leaked out of Jalen’s mouth at that, somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a whimper, the kind that made Josh certain he had him. He remembered the first time he’d ever heard it; pressing Jalen against his bed in their dorm room, Jalen’s teeth biting down on his pillow, Josh behind him going yeah. Puppy, good job.
Josh flirted with the idea of using that one again, but he stopped himself. No, no time. He moved to bite at Jalen’s earlobe, featherlight.
“Let me in you.” Josh said, harsh and flat and strong, but it didn’t matter. Jalen was already wrapping his strong thighs around Josh’s waist, pulling him ever-closer, groaning Fucking get in me against his mouth.
“Open.”
Josh pressed his fingers into Jalen’s mouth, flat against his tongue, so violent at first that Jalen almost gagged. He recovered quickly, lips closing around them, teeth dragging down Josh’s knuckles. Josh pulled them back out, clinging to Jalen’s bottom lip with a long trail of saliva. He moved his palm to the inside of Jalen’s leg and slid up, up, past the ankle, up, past the knee, up, past the thigh until Jalen was scooting to the edge of his perch and Josh’s pointer was finally circling his hole. It was barely a moment before he pushed the first digit in, barely longer before he did the second but somehow it felt slow. Conscious. Josh savored the sensation: Jalen’s muscles fighting him, then Jalen’s muscles going pliant, letting him by. Jalen reached to grab Josh’s wrist as he worked him, scissored his fingers inside him with vigor.
“Say it.” Josh said, in tandem with Jalen going Uh, his wrist cricked at a terribly awkward angle. “Say you’re good at it.”
“What, making your dick hard?” Jalen gasped, releasing Josh from his grip, instead opting to brush his now-free hand over the front of Josh’s boxers. Josh’s dick jumped, instantly, to meet his touch. “Freak.”
Josh pulled his fingers back out, Jalen’s body jerking in protest. “No, enough.” Josh said, and Jalen looked mildly surprised that it seemed he was talking to his body and not to him. “Need to fuck you.”
“Do it then,” Jalen exhaled, fuzzy and loose and content, barely pretending to object as Josh grabbed his thighs and used them as leverage to drag Jalen even closer to himself. They were chest to chest now, dick to dick. Josh licked at his own fingers, pulling them away from his mouth in a devastatingly long motion. Jalen had only just pulled off his hoodie, only just revealed a sliver of skin when Josh abandoned his plan and attacked it, lips on salty abdomen.
“Don’t bruise me, you’re so fucking annoying.”
“Have to, have to make sure everyone knows you’re seeing other girls.”
Jalen moved to smack him, to snap at him and say you know I’m not or you think I’d break the agreement but it was too late, Josh had already pushed his fingers back up inside him rather violently and Jalen was flinching, jerking so hard he almost smacked his head on the cabinet and Josh had to reach his palm up at the last minute to stop it.
“Say it,” He started again, watching as Jalen clenched around him, gritted his teeth, choked out a gasp. “C’mon, say you’re good at it.”
“What?”
“Basketball.”
Jalen was biting so hard on his lower lip that it was starting to bleed, stimulation taking over his body, hands looking for something to grab onto until they found the sides of Josh’s head.
“No.” Jalen grunted, glaring when he heard Josh scoff. “No, Josh, C’mon, not while you’re fingering me.”
“C’mon,” Josh mimicked, raising his voice in pitch then immediately dropping it. “C’mon, JB, talk your shit.”
Jalen let out something halfway between a moan and a noise of annoyance.
“When we win the chip.”
“Stop it, c’mon.”
“You stop, Josh. Let me down, I wanna fuck.”
“You’re so high maintenance."
“High maintenance?”
Josh tentatively pulled his fingers out, stopped working him. He paused, moving to grip Jalen’s thighs and hold them open as he clenched around nothing. Josh tried to act like he wasn’t fascinated, like he wasn’t painfully turned on just by watching it.
“Bet I could lift you,” He started, with a small smirk. Jalen shoved him off.
“Fuck off.”
“Gotta hit those weights.”
“You calling me fat?”
Josh held his hands up, resigned, as Jalen slid off the counter and onto his feet. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jalen cut him off.
“I’m not letting you eat me out.”
“Damn.”
“You’re gross.”
Josh was convinced that if he had to wait to go upstairs to fuck, he’d die. He’d actually have to kill himself. He didn’t feel 31, he felt fifteen, fifteen and horny and crazy and the more Jalen pissed him off the more he’d have to fucking shoot himself in the head if he couldn’t fuck him.
“Let’s fuck on the floor.”
“You’re stupid.”
“It’s late. We gotta practice tomorrow.” Josh pitched his voice up, a poor attempt at mockery. It didn’t really work. His voice came out husky anyways, husky and aggravated and desperate, and Jalen was clearly gearing up to shoot some kind of insult back but the seriousness of it all did it in.
“Josh.” Jalen said, and it was meant to be firm, it really was, but it came out soft and rough and quiet; tender. It was impossible for Jalen to be moody when Josh was standing behind him, bare abs pressed against his back, hands tracing down Jalen’ chest. Josh bit at his earlobe.
“C’mon.” He groaned, and Jalen leaned back into him, instinctively. “Be with me.”
“Alright,” Jalen said, like it was a chore, but Josh had a big hand on his head and was pushing him to his knees and Josh was saying You don’t have to think, turn it off, it’s okay, and he omitted the second half; the I know you’re tired, but it didn’t matter— they both felt it.
Jalen’s hands were nimble as he went for it, pulling Josh out of his boxers. He wondered how Josh felt when he dragged his calloused hands down his length— if the feeling made Josh feel just as crazy as it did Jalen. He loved feeling Josh’s callouses, loved feeling them on his fingers when they were inside him, loved knowing there was something on his body that came from something they did together.
“Need you so bad, Jalen.” Josh moaned, wrecked and pressing against him, and Jalen was saying okay, okay, okay, and just as Josh was about to say say it back his dick was in Jalen’s mouth and it felt a little like the world was ending.
“Don’t make me cum,” Josh choked out, but Jalen could make him feel like nobody else. Jalen knew his body, every motion of it, knew to run his hands up the insides of Josh’s thighs while he was sucking him off and it felt so good that Josh was borderline tearing up when he said “Still wanna fuck you.” Jalen nestled his face in the mat of pubic hair, dragged his nose against Josh’s happy trail then pulled off with a pop, dropping himself back onto his arms to prop himself up, eagle-spread. The fact of the matter was, his eyes were so big and dark and wet and his lips were so swollen and filthy and shiny that Josh had no choice but to fall to his knees and pull Jalen towards him by the ankles in a single, fluid motion.
“Fuck, cap.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why?” Josh asked, breathless and raw, licking at his fingers and moving them back into position.
“Innapropiate. Unprofessional.”
Josh bent down, pressed his lips to just below Jalen’s belly button, mouthed at where the hair began to start. Jalen’s body let out a sudden, involuntary jerk.
“You’re inappropriate.” Josh mumbled, trying to force himself to stare at anything but the wet tip of Jalen’s dick, flushed and swollen. He wanted to taste him. He wished Jalen would let him eat him out. “You’re unprofessional.”
Suddenly, he felt Jalen’s hand on his head, just as he started to suck a dark mark on his hip.
“Babe, stop. Go grab the lube.”
Josh looked at him with pleading, puppy-dog eyes, trying to act like he didn’t like the way Jalen was tugging on his braids. Trying to act like he didn’t notice the way Jalen was practically leaking onto the floor.
“Don’t wanna leave you.”
“C’mon, can’t afford to get sorer than I already am.”
Josh hesitated, started to push himself up. He drew himself to his full height, took a moment to admire the way Jalen was looking at him. Took a moment to stand over him, press the heel of his socked foot to the length of Jalen’s dick.
“Don’t step on me.” Jalen groaned. “C’mon, go, hurry up, ‘M losing steam.”
“Remember,” Josh started, softly, pulling his foot away. Jalen nudged him. Josh raked his eyes over Jalen’s body, found himself staring at his ass. Watched wantonly, hungrily, as Jalen started to finger himself; stretch himself out. “Remember back at school?”
“You were such a bully,” Jalen said, stifled, but he was looking at Josh like Josh meant something, so Josh couldn’t look anywhere else. “Threw me into that fucking pole pad my first fucking practice.”
It was taking everything in Josh not to start jerking off, standing over Jalen, watching him touch himself while he talked like that.
“You got so fucking hard.” Josh said, crouching back down. Jalen made a brief noise of protest.
“Thought you didn’t notice.”
“I always notice.”
“Goddammit, fuck.”
Jalen was arching into nothing now, chasing friction, and so Josh had no choice but to turn and make a mad dash for the bedroom while he could still pull himself away. Jesus, when was the last time they’d fucked like this? All strung out, desperate on the kitchen floor with the blinds up like they weren’t fucking famous?
Josh let out a string of curses as he rustled through the bedside drawer, grabbed a bottle and pressed open the cap. He borderline spilled it over himself, and then he’d really be screwed, because the second he did anything that could make Jalen feel possibly superior he lost all his edge.
“Hurry up,” Jalen yelled, and it almost made Josh fall down the stairs, and he felt crazy, because did they really need another home in Westchester, just for them, just so he could run around acting a naked fool?
“I’m ready. Get in me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Josh said, but he was already pulling Jalen into his lap, pushing himself into him, throwing his head back when he met a path of resistance and the tight heat of Jalen’s obsessively preened body closing in around him as he slipped down, down, down until Jalen’s ass was flush against him. He brushed Jalen’s ankle as it passed him by, as he wrapped his legs around Josh’s waist once more. “Yeah, c’mon, baby, move those hips. Move ‘em, let’s go.”
“Don’t talk me through it.” Jalen started, mouthing against Josh’s lips, grinding down against his wide, tired thighs. “I’m a grown man.”
Josh could’ve snapped back, but instead he shoved his fingers in Jalen’s mouth, hard and rough in a way that made Jalen borderline choke, stop moving his waist. Jalen pressed his tongue to the rough bottom of Josh’s fingerpads, sucked on them, and Josh threw his head back. Jalen didn’t say anything else, just leaked out ragged breaths around Josh’s touch, just groaned as he rolled his hips phrenetically and Josh descended into babble.
“Fuck, JB, you’re so good, c’mon, you’re so bad, shit, just like that. 38 points tonight, six assists, you know that? You were so good, baby, so good. Wish everybody could see you like this, see how good you are for me, know I’ve got you and I’m never letting you go.”
Jalen grabbed the back of Josh’s neck, held on at the nape to steady himself. Josh pulled his fingers away, wet and wanton.
“Stop talking,” Jalen gasped, but it was far too late; tears were blooming in his eyes again, unpredictable and uncontrollable and hot, spilling down his cheeks. Josh reached for his face with his left hand, pressed it to Jalen’s cheek. Cocked his head so he could kiss the other, lick it away, salty and warm on his tongue.
Josh pulled away, moved his hands back to Jalen’s hips as Jalen tried to conceal a hiccup. Josh lowered his voice, soft, intentional, cursing himself for having Jalen ride him instead of tipping him backwards on their mattress.
“Always so proud of you, you know that? You’re unreal, knew it the second I first saw you, knew it when I heard you were coming to ‘Nova and looked you up.”
He felt Jalen’s ankles slip slightly where they had been crossed behind Josh’s back, and felt Jalen’s body go pliant. Finally, finally.
“Josh, c’mon, kiss.”
Josh sucked at the bottom of Jalen’s lip like he was starving, like he wasn’t practically coming apart from the pure, perfect sensation of fucking up into him, like all he needed was both Jalen all around him and him all around Jalen so that Jalen could maybe, finally, for once, feel okay.
“My baby.” He whispered, hot and sweaty and swollen, moving to match Jalen’s urgency as Jalen guided his hand to his cock. Josh started to slowly tug, torn between kissing Jalen and getting the luxury of watching the soft, flushed head of Jalen’s dick dip in and out of his own fist. “You know that, JB? You’re my baby.”
Jalen let out a low whine, the kind of whine that Josh would surely make fun of him for later, but it was too late because Jalen was spasming and it was making him clench and Josh was producing a groaning, choked out noise and guiding Jalen back onto his back.
“Stay in me, Josh, fuck, Don’t pull ou—” Jalen started, frantically, but it was too late, Josh had already slid out and the second Jalen had ran his fingers over Josh’s hipbone absentmindedly he was finishing, spurting all over Jalen’s stomach, warm and blushed and heaving.
“You never listen,” Jalen gasped, his brow damp, moving to smack Josh away as he tried to bend down, trying to do something nasty like try to lick his own cum.
“Sorry.” Josh said, but he really wasn’t, and this time Jalen was the one to move to kiss him, lingering and sweaty and soft and with tongue. “Love you.”
Jalen paused, looked at him when he pulled away, looked at Josh hovering over him for a mere second. A deviant part of him couldn’t wait for offseason, couldn’t wait for them to take their trip, couldn’t wait to have a week where Josh could tie him up or gag him or do all of that without having to do something ridiculous after like act put together or go to media or look their team staff in the eye. He laid there for a moment, chest heaving.
“Love you too.”
Josh helped him up with the same strong arm and casual masculinity he always did, and Jalen stumbled to his feet.
“Your lips need Vaseline.”
“Okay. You need to shower, again.”
“Of course, cap.”
Jalen shot him a glare. Josh reached out, stroked his jaw, touched the side of his face.
“I’m so proud of you, you know?” He muttered, low, grabbing for Jalen’s waist. He pulled him closer, felt Jalen shift into him. “Just wish you’d say it back. Say you’re proud of yourself. And me.”
Jalen moved into Josh’s touch, kissed his fingertips, his palm, his wrist. Soft. Sweet.
“I will,” he whispered, letting himself drop his weight, letting Josh support him, hold him up. “If we win the chip.”
“You always say that.” Josh shot back, wrapping his hands around Jalen, holding him closer, closer, closer. “That if we win the chip everything’ll be perfect, that nobody’ll give a fuck about us, that everything will be sunshine and rainbows.”
Jalen pulled away for a moment, sent him a look that Josh had learned meant that Jalen thought he was being deeply and irreparably stupid. Jalen stepped back again, got close, rested his head back on Josh’s shoulder. Bit at the skin.
“Yeah, dumbass.” He said, whispering against him, barely audible. He felt Josh trace fingershapes over his back. “It will be.”