Page 72 of The Tryout

“Nah, man. No need. I’m super close, I’ll take care of it.”

He lifts his head a few inches off of the pillow, watching as I crawl back up his body. My dick is full and heavy in my briefs, a wet spot of precum forming near the tip. Eyes barely open, Finn reaches an arm out to me, sliding it down over my chest until he reaches the waistband of my underwear.

“Can we get rid of these?” he asks, voice unsteady. I shed them immediately, throwing them in the general direction of the window.

We lay there, me halfway over him, his hand moving up and down my dick. My breath starts to come more quickly, my pants loud in this silent room. I lean down, meeting his mouth with my own. His hand shuttles back and forth more quickly, and I can feel myself getting close. The precome is dripping steadily from my dick and I can hear myself making sounds I’m not intending to make. I’m so, so close.

“Can I…can I come on you? It’s okay if you don’t…”

He cuts me off with a kiss, pulling me fully on top of him. I feel his legs wrap around the back of mine, his hand back around my dick, the bottom of which is rubbing against his stomach. My precum is making everything slip and slide smoothly and I start to thrust against him, feeling shivers running up and down my spine.

With a growl, I pull away from him, looking in his eyes just as I feel my cum spill over his hand to pool on his stomach. My dick gives a few more halfhearted twitches before I fall on top of him, rolling off to the side in an attempt not to crush him.

In the quiet of the room, our rapid breaths mix together.

“I…I see why you do that.” he says, sounding just a little stunned.

I laugh into the side of his neck, gathering the strength to lift my head and look at him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”

He smiles slightly.

“But I think that only counts as half a blowjob, right?”

I give him a confused look, wondering what more he could have been hoping for.

“I mean, I didn’t get a turn, you know?”

The confusion on my face resolves itself into a wide smile.

“Well, if you ever want to give it a shot…”

“...I know where to find you.”

I worry that things between us will be weird the next day, but Finn seems determined to act the same as every other day. When I wake up, he’s already in the kitchen, freshly showered from his run. He hands me a coffee and a protein shake and I try not to blush as our hands touch.

You’d think I was the virgin here.

Once I’m properly caffeinated, we head to the parking garage. On the way to the arena, I decide to broach a different sensitive topic.

“Hey, you know my dads don’t need to come for Thanksgiving, right? I can tell them it’s too much given the games that week and they’ll be fine.”

He looks out the window, chewing his bottom lip. As much as I’d have liked an immediate assurance that it would be okay, I think I might like this more – the fact that he knows I’m genuinely asking and he’s allowed to consider his answer.

“They’re, um, nice, right?”

I consider this. I mean, they can definitely be a little…intense? But they’re kind, for sure. And they’d rather die than be unkind to Finn, I know.

“I mean, Dad will probably have your stat line memorized and Pops will want to double check your contract with Jack, just in case your personally-recommended, highly-sought-after agent is trying to screw you over…but yeah, they’re nice.”

Something passes over his face, something almost…hopeful?

“What will we do with them? Or, I guess, what will you do? I don’t have to tag along.”

He blushes, and I get the sense that Finn has regularly been made to feel like something extra and unwanted – not just in his family, but also with his teams. That’s certainly been the case with the Pack, at least.

“Dude, they’re more excited to see you than me. Don’t bail on me now.”