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“And the ladies are gonna be out,” Trevor is saying, vibrating with excitement. A summer away meant Jamie forgot just hyper Z could get. It reminds him of his neighbor’s crazy border collie, the one with the psycho eyes.
Right now they’re in the locker room, training camp finally over, and even though Jamie is completely gassed, Trevor somehow has the energy to go out, claims that this is the year they’re going to pick up mad chicks.
“Dude, we’re actual NHLers now, girls are gonna love that.” Trevor seems to think that girls will be falling all over them just because they’re not starting down in San Diego this year.
“I mean, I never talk to chicks,” Jamie says. “Whenever I see an attractive woman I just bury my head and walk right past them, like I have some kind of social disorder.”
“Yeah, I wait like a good fifteen seconds, and then go that girl had a keister on her.”
“You walk by with your group of friends and no one says a word to her, and then you go bro, she was so hot.”
“Even if she’s not, you gotta say something, just so no one thinks you’re gay.” Trevor’s big on the whole no-homo thing, thinks people will assume he’s gay just because he’s kinda twinky looking. When he told Jamie this last year, when they were still in the A, Jamie had burst out laughing. Trevor plays hockey, there’s no way people would think that.
“As a, what’s the word? Not an adult man.” Jamie pauses, thinks for a second. “I guess we’re adults now. When you’re early into your adulthood, what’s it called?”
“Adolescent?”
“No, we’re not adolescent. Adolescent’s like seventeen.” Jamie doesn't know the word, missed most of his high school classes for hockey. “That’s not the point. Whatever we are, it’s good to make sure you prove to your boys you’re not gay.”
“Sometimes I call my boys in the middle of the night, and they’re like is everything okay?, and I’m like just wanna let you know I’m not gay,” Trevor says, and Jamie bursts out laughing. Who the fuck does that? Trevor doesn’t care that Jamie’s about to die of laughter, instead pulling out his phone to try and coerce the guys into going out tonight by way of the team groupchat. Most of the team is in the locker room right now, but Trevor still sends a text.
Z💕: im gonna attack a few tonight and theres nothing u can do to stop me.
Z💕: join if u want
Josh M: what if i shot u directly in the face
Josh M: not going to just wondering how u would overcome that
They’re all in the same room and texting like a bunch of phone-addicted losers, but Jamie still responds I truly believe trevor could survive that.
Sonny: guy like trevor woukd shrug it off and have a miller high life within 15 seconds
Z💕: when theres a will theres a way
Z💕: i will get mines by any means necessary
—
Trevor does end up getting his, if by that you mean several brightly-colored shots. What he does not get, however, are any girls. He’s slumped into Jamie, gesturing wildly as he talks about his latest Tinder fuck-up.
“Look at this shit,” Trevor says, shoving his phone right under Jamie’s nose. It’s too bright and Jamie’s head is kind of spinning from the shots they did earlier, but he squints until it comes into focus. Trevor’s sent you look like the type of girl id see in an airport and think about the whole flight to some girl he matched with.
i dont believe you cause you said the same thing to my roommate 🤷 is the reply, and Jamie doubles over with laughter.
“Dude, do you say the same thing to every girl you swipe right on?” he asks.
“It usually works,” Trevor says, whiny. “The more you shoot, the more you make.”
Jamie makes his face as serious as he can, a hard thing to do when he’s this drunk. “You need better pick-up lines.”
“My pick-up lines are fucking fantastic.”
Jamie seriously doubts that, but Trevor plows on.
“One time I caught a fish this big,” Trevor says, hands out to demonstrate. The non-sequitur has Jamie confused, because he’s not sure how they got from pick-up lines to fishing. Does Trevor even fish?
“And one time I caught a fish this big.” At that, Trevor stretches one hand around Jamie's shoulders, presumably to demonstrate the size of the “fish”, and Jamie abruptly gets it.
“No way that’s ever worked on a girl.”
“I’ve never actually tried it,” Trevor admits sheepishly. “But it totally would! That’s such a baller line, much better than the cough-and-stretch.”
Stecher comes back with a bunch of shots for the table, and they both take one. Jamie knows Trevor hasn’t had that much to drink, but he’s still slumped to the side, a warm weight against Jamie. They’re touching almost everywhere, because Trevor still has his arm slung over Jamie, and it means that he’s breathing directly into Jamie’s neck, warm and humid, making him shiver. Maybe he really does need to get laid, if all it takes for him to pop a half-chub is Trevor pressed along his side.
As the night wears on, Trevor declares several more times that he’s “Gonna get up and wheel some chicks,” but he hasn’t moved once from Jamie’s side.
“I wish the girls would just come to me,” Trevor whines, and Jamie huffs out a laugh.
“That’s not the way it’s supposed to go,” Jamie says. “Any girl who makes the first move is a complete weirdo.”
“No-homo, but it would be sick to be gay. Guys are mad horny; it’s probably so easy to pick up.” Trevor squirms, resettling with his mouth right up against Jamie’s ear. The sensation of his breath on the cusp of Jamie’s ear feels nice, and it goes straight to his dick.
“Yeah, but you gotta let some guy stick a dick up your ass,” Jamie says.
“I don’t know, people like that shit,” Trevor says before sitting straight up. “When we get home I’m gonna try it.”
“You do that.” Trevor says so much shit, and he’s never serious about it.
—
Trevor is actually serious about this, though, because the second the Uber drops them back at the house he’s asking Jamie if he has any lube.
“Why do you need lube?” Jamie asks, confused.
“Google said you gotta lube up your cornhole before you shove a finger up there.” Trevor’s still on his phone, presumably looking up tips for how to take it up the ass.
“Why don’t you have your own lube?”
“Why would I need it?” Trevor asks. “I just use lotion when I jerk it.”
Jamie uses lotion too, but sometimes girls like it better with lube. He wonders if Trevor never hooks up with those girls, but decides it’s not worth the argument, instead going up to his room and returning with the half-full bottle of KY he keeps under his bed.
Trevor takes the bottle and disappears into his room, leaving Jamie vaguely horny in the middle of the living room. He sinks down on the sofa, wondering what Trevor’s doing behind his closed door. Is he naked, tan stark against the white bedsheets?
He’s sitting on the sofa with a raging boner, imagining Trevor working his fingers into himself, when the man himself shows back up, half-hard and completely naked from the waist down. Jamie jerks guiltily, irrationally afraid Trevor knows he was thirty seconds from shoving his hands down his pants.
“I need your help,” Trevor declares, and Jamie stares at him in disbelief.
“Now what do you want? Mood music? Some candles and rose petals?” Trevor shifts, opens his mouth, and Jamie hastily adds “I don’t have either of those things.”
Trevor scrunches up his nose, like he’s seriously considering asking Jamie for his sex playlist, before saying “No, I just can’t figure out how to get my fingers in. Like, I don’t think my wrist bends that way.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Jamie says, before it dawns on him what Trevor is asking. “Oh hell no, that’s so fucking gay.”
“Please,” Trevor whines, and Jamie folds. The reason Trevor’s so used to getting what he wants is because he’s super annoying when he’s told no, throwing these little tantrums that always end with him getting his way. Jamie’s not going to be the guy to break the pattern, even if sometimes he wishes he could just go apeshit, put Trevor in his place.
“Alright, what exactly do you want me to do?” he asks as Trevor hustles him up the stairs, like he’s afraid Jamie’s going to change his mind if given too long to think about it.
“Just stick your fingers in my ass,” Trevor says, stripping off his shirt and flopping down onto the bed face-first. “You can’t stick your dick in there, though. I’m not gay.”
Jamie scoffs, because what is Trevor on? “I don’t want to put my dick anywhere near your grody ass.”
Trevor huffs out a laugh and squirms impatiently. Jamie smacks him on the ass, just because he knows it’ll make him go still, before realizing he still has no idea how to do this. “One sec, I’ve gotta Google what to do.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Trevor says. “Just lube up your finger and stick it in.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Imagine having to explain to Eaks that you can’t play because I fucked up your asshole.”
“Google said to use lots of lube and start with one finger.” Trevor squirms, shoves the bottle of KY at Jamie with a bit more force.
That’s enough of a hint for Jamie, who drizzles way more than he needs over his fingers, enough that it’s dripping off onto Trevor’s white sheets. It’s more than enough, but Jamie still spreads Trevors cheeks and squirts a huge glob of lube right onto the pucker of his asshole, just to see him jump at the cold.
Jamie figures he should just go for it, rubs a finger around Trevor’s rim before working a finger inside. Trevor squirms a little, but doesn’t otherwise move. It’s such a head rush, Trevor just staying still and letting Jamie take care of him, giving up all control.
Jamie can see the flush working its way down Trevor's neck as he adds a second finger. His back is damp with sweat, and when Jamie curls his fingers Trevor lets out this broken noise. It’s so nice, being completely in charge, Trevor just taking whatever Jamie’ll give to him, and his dick is painfully hard in his sweatpants.
Trevor’s ass is tight and hot around Jamie’s fingers, and he thinks about putting his dick in there as he adds a third finger. He bets it would feel good, bets Trevor would just suck his dick in the way he’s doing to his fingers right now.
He gets lost in it, Trevor’s ass clenching around his fingers and the near-constant whines he keeps letting out. He’s going to come the second he gets a hand in his dick, but for now he’s content to just stay in this room, keep his fingers buried in Trevor.
Of course Trevor has to ruin it, trying to squirm a hand down and grab his dick.
“Uh uh,” Jamie says, so sweet it’s condescending. “Please don’t do that.”
He wonders if it’s too much, if he’s actually allowed to boss Trevor around like this, but Trevor just moans and removes his hand, so Jamie guesses it’s okay. Trevor shouldn’t have done that anyway, because Jamie didn’t say he could, so he basically deserves it if Jamie gets a little mean.
Jamie pulls his fingers out then, toys at Trevor’s rim.
“What are you- what are you doing?” Trevor gasps, and the corner of Jamie’s mouth tilts up as a wave of warmth floods his body, but he’s not going to make it easy for Trevor. He wants to push a little harder, see how far he can take this in a way he’s never been brave enough to do with a girl.
“What do you mean, Trevor? Use your words.”
“Just-“ Trevor says, voice cracking. “Put your fingers back.”
“If you want me to keep going, leave your hands where I want them.”
Trevor doesn’t say anything to that, just nods-nods-nods like the stupid Ducks bobblehead Jamie has. It feels good, the way Trevor’s listening to every order, and Jamie desperately needs to get a hand on his dick. He wonders if he could just leave, escape to his room and jerk off to the memory of Trevor squirming on the sheets. While he’s been thinking, his fingers have found their way back inside Trevor, and now he knows he’s stuck, the wet heat of Trevor’s ass better than the orgasm he’s so close to.
Trevor might have promised to stay still, but he never said he’d be quiet, and there’s a constant stream of words coming out of his mouth, mingled with these little gasps that have Jamie squeezing his thighs together.
“Can you, like, more,” Trevor says, jerky.
“More what?” Jamie’s got two fingers inside Trevor, moving them slowly, and he knows exactly what Trevor’s talking about, but it’s fun to watch him struggle.
“Like, add more fingers. Go deeper.” Trevor pauses, then says “You can stick your dick in me if you want.” It would feel so good to shove deep into Trevor, but Jamie knows Trevor’s only in this for his own selfish reasons.
“A generous offer, but no.” Trevor gasps, like he didn’t expect to be told no. Jamie didn’t think he’d have it in him to refuse, because he’s been horny since the bar, but apparently the joy of saying no to Trevor Zegras is very good for his self control.
“But-”
“You said I couldn’t,” Jamie reminds him. “Said it was too gay.”
“Okay, well, I changed my mind,” Trevor says, wiggling on the bed. “Stick your dick in me.”
“No.” It’s probably good for Trevor to hear it once in a while, not get everything he wants handed to him on a silver platter, and the way he’s getting visibly upset is a definite bonus. He can see the moment it finally dawns on Trevor that Jamie’s not going to just give in.
It’s nice, and Jamie works his fingers deeper inside Trevor. He’s still going slow, still refusing to give Z more than two, but Trevor’s seemed to realize begging’s not going to work, just lying back on the bed and letting Jamie take care of him.
Jamie doesn’t know how long they’ve been doing this, but it feels like time is stretching out, the dark room and the California heat. Z likes to leave his window open, and the last vestiges of the summer heat are drifting through the room. After they’re done Jamie’s going to close it, because this is why their electric bill is so high, but for now he doesn’t mind.
Everything’s sweat-slick, Trevor’s back damp as he writhes on the sheets. Now that Trevor’s finally realized he’s not in charge Jamie has the urge to be sweet, but not in a way that means anything other than friendship. Like, is gay to lick the sweat off your buddy's back?
It could be, but Jamie says no-homo in his head before leaning over and running his tongue down Trevor’s spine. Trevor tastes like salt and sex, smells like the Axe deodorant he should have left in middle school. Trevor whines, hiccuping against the pillow his face is shoved into, and his hips jerk against the bed. His ass clenches around Jamie’s fingers, and he’s letting out these weird half-formed sounds as he squirms on the bed.
When he sits back up Trevor whimpers quietly, but he’s barely fluttering around Jamie. Trevor ineffectually kicks at him, but there’s no way in hell Jamie’s leaving this warm heat.
He’s making this high whining sound Jamie’s never heard before, slumped on the bed looking completely worn out, and Jamie realizes he just came. He flips Trevor over, wincing when his dick sticks on the sweat-soaked sheets. Trevor squirms and grinds down on Jamie’s fingers for what feels like the millionth time, and it reminds Jamie that he wanted to get his dick in there at some point tonight.
He probably shouldn’t, not with Trevor so oversensitive, but he just fingerbanged him for thirty minutes and he kinda deserves it.
The whine that’s pulled out of Trevor when Jamie removes his fingers is so fucking loud, and Jamie’s dick is throbbing. Trevor’s head is lolled back against the pillow, hair fanned out around his face, like he doesn’t know what’s coming.
Jamie looks for the bottle of KY, can’t find it in the tangle of the sheets, spits into his hand to revive the remnants of the lube. The two strokes he does just to get his dick slicked up have him gasping, and he’s reminded of how close to the edge he really is.
It takes him a second to line up, using one hand to push Trevor’s thigh out of the way. When he pushes in Trevor blinks up at him, asks “What are you doing?”
“You said I could fuck you.”
“Yeah, before I came.”
Jamie’s not going to get into this, instead leaning down to kiss Trevor. He’s got no leverage like this, but it’s nice to just sit in the tight heat of Trevor’s ass, languidly kiss him.
Trevor’s a sloppy kisser, spit everywhere, but it’s stupid hot. Jamie pulls back, watches drool slide down the side of Trevor’s face as he snaps his hips into him. He’s close, has been close for a while, but he feels out of control staring down at Trevor’s sweet, fucked-stupid expression. He’s got tears in his eyes and is letting out this constant whine, and Jamie absolutely adores him.
“You’re so pretty,” he breathes, trying not to absolutely lose it.
Trevor preens, puffs his chest out, but he also squeezes his eyes shut, like it’s too much for him to bear. Jamie can feel him half-hard against his stomach, and shifts to get a hand on Trevor’s dick.
He still couldn’t find the lube, just licked his palm, but Trevor doesn’t seem to care, fucking Jamie’s hand and then fucking himself on Jamie’s dick. He’s hot and tight and so so pretty, and Jamie’s in awe. It’s amazing that he gets to do this, gets to fuck into Trevor’s pliant body, and he’s overcome with a wave of fondness.
He’s too far gone to properly kiss, but he leans down anyway, seals his mouth over Trevor’s. Everything is slick and languid, damp skin and wet sheets, which is why Jamie’s orgasm somehow manages to take him by surprise.
Trevor starts crying while Jamie’s still riding the aftershocks, pumping into him weakly.
When Jamie pulls out Trevor jerks, whispers something he can’t quite hear.
“What?”
“I want to come,” Trevor says, voice quiet. He sounds pathetic, voice weak, but his dick is hot under Jamie’s stomach. Jamie pulls back to spit directly on Trevor’s dick, because his hand’s dry again, and he thinks rubbing off against the sheets is enough damage for one day. It would be even nicer if he could use his mouth, but that might be crossing a line into too gay.
What the hell, Jamie thinks, and leans down to get his mouth on Trevor, who hums something that’s half misery and half pleasure. He’s jerking up into Jamie’s mouth, these aborted little half-thrusts, like he can’t muster up the energy to do anything more. Jamie presses a forearm across Trevor’s stomach, just to hold him down, and that’s what finally does it for him. Trevor comes, and Jamie sucks him through it, grinning as he thrashes around through the aftershocks.
It’s gotta be a lot, and Jamie’s struck with the sudden urge to take care of Trevor, make sure he’s alright after all that.
“Do you need anything?”
“Yeah, can you get my dispo out of my pants?” Trevor asks, voice raw like he was the one sucking dick. Jamie’s a good bro, so he gets out of bed and finds the pants Trevor had worn out that night. The lube had somehow landed on top of them, and there’s a huge wet spot soaking into one of the legs, but as promised Trevor’s Elf Bar is in the front pocket.
When he gets back onto the bed with it, Z opens his mouth like he expects Jamie to feed it to him.
“My arms are all floppy, Jamie.”
That’s fair, because Jamie did wring two orgasms out of him, and so he carefully holds it up to Trevor's mouth, lets him inhale.