Page 53 of Stroke Rate

Chris chuckled, easing his fingers free, and leaning his forehead against River’s thigh. “Fuck, I love you,” he said as he placed kisses along River’s hip and inner thigh. “You want my cock, baby.”

“Fucking right now. I’m dying,” River said as he gripped his leaking cock. “Look at this. He’s weeping. So sad you haven’t made him come with that fat cock of yours.”

Chris got up on his knees and slapped River’s ass. “Brat. That’s my line,” he laughed as he lined the blunt head of his cock up with River’s hole. They both moaned as Chris slid the first piercing in. “Ah, fuck yes, gonna fill you up so good.” Chris rocked his hips, a slight movement until the second popped in. River whimpered; it had been so long since he had done this. He felt so full, the piercings massaged the inside of him, rubbing against his prostate with every gentle rock. The last and thickest barbell pushed through, making River’s mouth drop open, expelling a harsh pant. He was certain the sounds leaving his lips were like those of a woman in labor, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was a lot. Chris' cock stretched him wide, the barbells massaged his walls, and the burn along his rim was almost too intense. He felt his body stiffening, overwhelmed by all the unfamiliar sensations. “Breathe, baby,” Chris ran the palms of his hand up and down the coarse hairs on River’s thighs; kissing River’s knee before asking if he could move.

“Please,” River keened as Chris made his first tentative thrust. He pulled one piercing out and shoved it back in. “Oh fuck. More,” he panted out as Chris pushed his knees back so far they almost touched his ears.

“God, you feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me.”

River’s neck arched back, a loud exhale left his chest as Chris took his length in his hand, jerking him with the rhythm of his thrusts. Chris’ movements were slow and languid, making River feel loved, cared for, and safe. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this. The feeling of being owned and cared for by Chris in this way. The feeling of letting go, allowing his body to be nothing but sensation. He looked up to find deep pools of black with a thin ring of blue staring at him. Chris’ brows pulled tight, sweat beaded his upper lip, his mouth open as he panted and fucked River so good his vision whited out for a moment. “Kiss me,” River whispered through heaving gasps.

“Fuck, baby. Come for me. I need you to come,” Chris panted into his mouth. And that was all River needed. One command from Chris and he was spraying his release all over his chest. “Fuck yes. Just like that. So good for me.” Chris’ thrusts became uneven, pumping his hips twice before seating his groin with a hard shove against River’s ass. He grunted and moaned as he sucked on River’s tongue, before finally stilling and pulling back enough to gaze into River’s eyes. He carded his fingers through River’s damp hair, kissed his lips, his cheek, and ‌the tip of his nose. “You are beautiful like this,” Chris said as he rubbed the tip of his nose against River’s. “Beneath me and completely fucked out.”

“I love you,” River smiled against Chris’ waiting lips. He felt Chris’ mouth turn up as he wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him to his chest. They were sweaty and gross, and the cum squished between them, but whatever.

Chris wiggled, grumbling how vile the mess between them was, but then River felt Chris’ tongue lap at his chest. Little kitten licks as he cleaned the mess River had made, humming about how good he tasted, before settling his head on River’s peck and kissing him once, twice, three times over his heart. “I love you,” he said before letting out a deep sigh, his body going slack, and his breath evening out.

River rolled them to their sides, pulling Chris’ back to his chest, holding him secure with a hand splayed across his pecks. He fell asleep feeling the rhythm of the heart he loved so much and listening to the gentle cadence of Chris’ breaths.

Chapter forty-one

Chris

The clouds gathered as Chris sat in the car, watching River lock up the cabin. Lights off, gone was the glow and warmth of the past two weeks—as if the house knew and didn't like that they were leaving. His gut clenched as he thought of the next few days: the travel, the race, and that he and River wouldn't get to sleep together. It would be the first time since they had met up again that they wouldn't be in the same bed. It will be fine; you can be brave. River got to the door, but turned to the house one more time. His eyes were watery, and his mouth moved as though he was whispering something Chris couldn't hear. He knocked on the roof of the car twice before shuffling in and starting the car.

“You okay?” Chris asked.

“Mph,” River blew out a raspberry, wiping at his eyes. “I will be.”

The whole of Colorado passed in a blur as they drove. The deep green of the evergreens melted into the bustle of downtown Boulder, which eventually melted into the dry brown emptiness of the plains. A Colorado beacon welcomed them to the airport: the bright blue Mustang with glowing red eyes felt more like an omen than it should. Chris couldn't shake the feeling of dread as the plane took off. River gripped his sweaty hand and kissed his cheek. “Everything will be fine,” he whispered into Chris’ ear.

“I'm just so nervous.”

Walking hand in hand through the campus, Chris couldn’t believe how far they had come in such a short period of time. River went from a stuttering, nervous shell of a man to the strong, stoic protector Chris never thought he needed. They had worked together to build a life together, from a hook-up to coach to friend to lovers. The knowledge that River was his everything warmed him, making his blood run thick like honey—but still Chris could not shake the cramping in his stomach or the tingle in his lips.

“You need to eat.” River placed a protein bar in his hand. “You haven’t eaten all day,” River said as they reached the tree where they first kissed. He cradled Chris’ face in his large, warm hands, rubbing his thumbs in a soothing rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. Chris closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and held onto River’s hips. Focusing on the feeling of River’s embrace, trying to let his worries float away. You’re safe, you're safe, you're safe, he repeated in his brain. "What's wrong? This doesn’t seem like normal before meet jitters.”

“Nothing, it’s fine. I just can’t get rid of this anxiety in my body. It makes me feel all shaky,” he said, opening his eyes to find River’s golden eyes framed by knitted eyebrows. “Usually you help. Being near ‌you, your touch, your smell. It usually calms me, but nothing seems to be working.” Placing his forehead on River’s chest, rocking his head back and forth, he said, “You realize we don’t get to stay together?” And with that, the dam broke, big tears streaming down his cheeks, sobs wracking his body. The stress of the day, the weird anxiety, the race tomorrow, and the thought of deciding about his future. It was all too much. What if I get a spot in the trials? What if I don't? What if River gets angry about my ultimate decision, and what if my actions lead to disaster? What if River leaves?

“Hey, hey. I'm not going anywhere.”

Shit, he must have said that last part out loud.

“Never. Remember together. We are doing this together.” River pushed Chris against the tree, stooped and captured his lips in a tender, commanding kiss. He dominated Chris' head as if it were his to command. He fucked his tongue into Chris’ mouth like he owned it and he ground against Chris, because he knew exactly what he needed. “I know you need more,” River said, looking down at Chris. "I know you want to disappear, but we don't have time. I need you to be brave. Can you be brave for me, baby?”

Chris nodded and whined as River wiped the tears from his face, forcing Chris to meet his eyes. “Please tell me everything will be okay.”

“We will be fine, baby.” A kiss on his dimple. “Whatever happens.” A kiss on his temple. “We will be fine.” A kiss on his nose. “I love you. We will figure it out.” One more deep, loving kiss on his lips. River didn’t let it go any further, resting their heads together, he said, “One night, one swim.”

Chris repeated, “One night, one swim.” Hefting his bag up, he slotted their hands together and pulled River along the same way he had that first night together. They checked in, got Chris’ room assignment and stood in the hallway.

“Call me tonight,” River said, pulling Chris flush against his body. Chris melted, letting his full weight rest against River. He knew they shouldn't be touching like this. Not in the dorms, not surrounded by all the other swimmers and coaches, but Chris needed it. He needed River’s warmth and smell to ground him. To calm him. River’s hand rested on his belly, a gentle pressure as he nudged him to create a little space between them. He took River’s hand and squeezed three times, gave him a nod, a sad smile, and turned.

In the end, he didn't call River. He texted him a quick goodnight and crawled into the cold, crunchy sheets and looked at the ceiling. The night was restless; he slept some, but not well. Apparently, sleeping alone was not something he could do anymore. His body seemed to reach out all night, only to be met with the edge of a twin mattress. No warm River next to him, no soft snores, or a body pressed to his. Alone, he was alone; just like before, but worse. Now he knew what it was like to fall asleep with the person he loved. Now he knew what it was like to be kissed awake and cuddled into consciousness. One swim, he repeated.

As the sun warmed the sky, Chris realized he might be screwed. He was so tired; his eyes were puffy, bloodshot, and burning, his body was achy, limbs felt heavy, certainly not ready to swim a fast race, or any race for that matter. He was screwed. Throwing on some joggers and a tee, he splashed water on his face and raced to the dorm entrance. There, waiting under the tree, two cups in hand, was an equally exhausted-looking River.

“Well, aren’t we a sight?” Chris said, making River jump, almost dropping the cups of coffee.