by Sean Michael
Justin smiled at Coach. It was so nice to be with someone who knew you. Coach didn’t really look much older. In fact, now that Justin himself was older, Coach almost seemed younger. In his late thirties, Coach’s eyes were as deep brown as ever and still as sharp—Justin knew they somehow saw everything. Coach’s hair was longer than he remembered it ever being, messy and in need of a cut.
The strong swimmer’s body was still toned, even though Justin knew that Coach hadn’t swum competitively since high school. He knew what that body felt like against him now. Justin shook himself.
Coach stared at him, smiled like he knew.
“Stop it,” Justin ordered.
“Stop what?” Coach did not do innocent very well.
“You know.”
Coach raised his hands, palms out. “I’m just sitting here.”
“Uh-huh.” Justin pursed his lips. “I quit my job.”
“You hated that job, and your boss was a total asshole. Plus, you already have another job lined up. Looks like a sound decision to me.”
“He was an asshole. I hate ties.”
“You look much better in Speedos.” Coach smiled as he said it, like he was imagining it.
“I don’t own a pair anymore.”
“What did you do with all the ones you had?”
“I sold them to collectors.” It had been hard, at first.
Coach blinked at him. “All of them?”
“Yep. I needed tuition money.”
“Tell me you didn’t sell your medals.”
He shook his head. “I put all of them except the Olympic golds in a museum.”
Coach appeared relieved. “I have a spot for them on my shelves at home. Waiting for you.” His words were quiet, sincere.
“You can have them, you know.” He’d offered them to Coach after he retired.
“They are yours, and they’ll go on the shelves when you move in.”
“I earned them. I’m proud of them.” He was. They were the best thing he’d ever done, probably that he’d ever do.
“You did earn them. Every single one. And I’m proud of you.” Coach reached out and took his hand. “I love you.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know me anymore, and I can’t lose you again right now.” He’d almost lost his mind before, and now? He just couldn’t.
“It’s the truth, and it means you aren’t going to lose me again. Why would you think my loving you means you’ll lose me?”
Justin shrugged, sighing when the water came. He’d hoped for sake or something; he just wanted to get drunk.
Coach’s eyes were on him, and as soon as their waitress left, he leaned in. “You haven’t answered me yet.”
“I’m not going to.”
Coach shook his head. “You’ll eventually believe me, Just.”
“Let’s drink,” he suggested. Coach could order the sake.
“To what?”
“To my unemployment.”
“How about to new beginnings?” Coach picked up his water, not getting the clue about the sake.
He nodded. “That sounds much nicer, Coach.”
Coach clinked their glasses together and took a sip of his.
Sake would have burned down his throat, tingled on his tongue. He thought about that and tried not to think about what he’d done.
Their food arrived in short order, the plates of sushi so pretty. He finished his water, then started the complicated process of integrating exactly the right ratio of wasabi and soy sauce. Coach watched him. Not eating or drinking—just observing.
“What?”
“Love watching you eat.” Coach kept saying that. “You’ve got a routine, you know?”
“Me?” Nonsense.
“Yes, you. Look at you with your condiments. It’s always the same when you eat sushi.” Coach’s foot found his under the table and rested them together.
“It has to taste good.” Silly man.
“Most of us just do this.” Coach picked up a piece of salmon on rice and dipped it into the soy sauce before popping it into his mouth.
Justin shrugged. He liked what he liked.
“I’m not trying to change you, just explain why I enjoy watching you eat.” Coach’s foot rubbed his.
Justin thought about that for a second, then let himself relax. There wasn’t any reason to get all caught up, not about this.
Coach snagged a California roll, dipped it into Justin’s perfect conglomeration of wasabi and soy sauce, and then held it to Justin’s lips. “Open up.”
Justin opened his mouth and took a bite, the salt and burn perfect. Coach moaned softly, eyes trained on Justin.
“It’s good.” He licked his lips clean.
“Uh-huh.” Coach sounded a little breathless.
“You should have one.”
“I should.” Coach leaned forward and opened his mouth.
Justin dipped a piece in Coach’s soy sauce and fed his coach.
“Mmm.” Coach took the sushi from Justin’s chopsticks and licked his lips. “It’s good.”
“It is.” Justin relaxed back.
Coach snagged himself another piece. “I’m taking you home after we’ve finished dinner.”
“Are you?” He loved how Coach was so sure of everything.
“I am. It’ll be a better celebration with orgasms.”
Justin eyed Coach, then chuckled.
“Trust me. I know about this.” Coach grinned and snatched up another piece of sushi.
“You think you know about everything.” Justin chose a piece too and nibbled.
“No, but I think I know about you, and about me.”
Justin believed that. “No one ever knew as much about me.”
“No one else ever will. I have a special interest.”
Justin studied Coach. “You make it sound so….” Special? Wonderful? Real? Something.
“It’s the best thing in the world, Justin. And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it for yourself.”
Justin didn’t know what to say to that. Coach didn’t push him to say anything, though, and they shared the rest of the sushi platter, their feet tangled together under the table. They finished their second glasses of water, and Justin was warm, buzzing just the barest bit from the food and attention.
“You want red bean ice cream for dessert, or are you ready to go?”
“Let’s go. I’m full, and it’s going to be an hour before we want anything else.”
“Sounds good.” Coach caught their waitress’s attention and motioned for the check.
Justin pulled out some cash. “For my half.”
“My treat, Just. It was my showing up that prompted your run-in with that dickwad boss of yours.”
“It was a long time coming. It really was. I was getting irritated.”
Coach nodded. “You didn’t seem very happy there.” That was an understatement.
The waitress brought their check, and Coach handed over his credit card.
“I wasn’t. I’m not a very happy-go-lucky guy.” He wasn’t sure he’d ever been, but he thought he had. Once.
“You’re happy when you have your routine.” Coach’s smile was warm and directed right at him. “We’ll get you there, Just.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“That we’ll get you there, or that you’re happy when you’ve got routine?” Coach shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I know they’re both true.”
“I wish I could believe that. Maybe I’ll just believe in you. It used to work.”
“That’ll do as a start.”
The waitress brought back Coach’s credit card and slip, and he signed it and pocketed his card. “Okay, Just. Let’s go home.”
“Can we go to your place?” He didn’t want to face his roommate and his room.
“Our place. And sure. That is the plan, after all.”
“Cool. Thank you.” He just wanted something good for a few more minutes.
Coach claspe
d his hand and led him out of the restaurant and all the way back to the car without letting go. Justin held on, humming under his breath. They got to the parking garage and up to the car, where Coach pulled him in close, took his mouth.
Oh. Oh! He jerked, surprised and turned on all at once. The kiss was long and hard, and they were both breathless when Coach’s lips finally left his. Justin blinked, the whole world swaying. Wow.
Coach stroked his cheek, then opened the car door for him. “Let’s take this home.”
“Uh-huh.” He sat and rubbed his cock idly.
“Stop that. Number one rule. No touching yourself without my say-so.” Coach spoke the words casually as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“Wh-what?”
“You remember our conversation from the other night, don’t you? Rule number one was no touching yourself. Leave that cock alone.”
“It’s mine.” He felt the words in the pit of his belly.
Coach held his gaze. “And you’re mine, and it’s a rule.”
It was like electricity, a spark burning deep inside him. Coach had to have seen it, because his nostrils flared, and suddenly there was heat in his eyes.
“I don’t follow rules anymore.” Justin licked his lips, his muscles feeling like they were burning and jumping.
“And you’re miserable. I know what makes you happy, J. Let me do it.”
“You promise it’ll work?”
“I promise.” Coach still had his gaze, and Justin could see he was deadly serious.
He moved his hand away from his cock, fingers trembling.
“Good boy.” Coach spoke softly, almost gently, but the words echoed through the car.
Justin shivered, suddenly wanting to run or scream or burst into tears. Coach started the car and headed toward his house. Justin sat, trying his best to breathe. In. Out. In. What am I doing? Out. In.
“I want you to move in with me, Just. I want you to work with me. I want us to make a life together.”
“I can’t take any more today, Coach.” He went with as honest as he could be. “I can’t change one more thing.”
“Then simply come home with me and let me love on you.”
“Yes, please.”
“Excellent.”
The panic built slowly in Justin, like it used to before meets, a tickle at the base of his skull. Coach leaned over and turned on the radio, hard-driving metal pouring out of the speakers. Justin closed his eyes and nodded, that sound as familiar and comfortable as breathing. Coach’s hand brushed his thigh, letting him know Coach was there with him. This was something he understood in a world that was as confusing as hell.
They pulled up into the drive at Coach’s house, and the music fell silent when he turned off the engine. “Come on, Just. We’re home.”
“Okay.” He felt a little like he’d blown a meet. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Coach turned back and watched him as they headed for the garage door.
“I don’t know.”
“Then you don’t need to apologize.” Coach opened the door, but before they went in, he drew Justin close.
Justin stepped in, sucking up the comfort Coach offered him. Coach tilted his head up and took a kiss.
This had never been part of their thing, not before, but it felt so good now. Coach’s tongue slid into Justin’s mouth and touched his teeth, his gums, his tongue.
His cock, which had never stopped paying attention, was heavy now, full, sliding against Coach’s leg. Coach groaned, hands finding Justin’s ass and tugging him even closer, helping him rub. Oh. Oh, please. Justin dove into the kiss, rocking a little harder.
Coach picked him right up, using the weight of his own body to add to the friction on Justin’s prick. Hips rolling, Justin cried out. Yes. Yes. Leaning back against the wall, Coach kept moving him, bringing him closer and closer.
Justin was gonna… right here in the garage. Coach wasn’t slowing down any, the hand on Justin’s ass squeezing hard. His eyes drifted closed, and he let go, let his body move and rock and drive until he couldn’t bear it another second.
Coach’s mouth left his. “Come for me.”
He shot, just like that, head back, throat working. Coach latched on to his throat, pulling hard and making him shudder, stretching out his orgasm. He moaned, the pleasure going on and on, sweet as anything. Coach moved his mouth, lips wrapping around a new spot.
“Coach. Fuck.” That was hot.
Coach just hummed around his skin, making it vibrate. His knees were weak, his heart slamming in his chest, and he couldn’t stop moaning. Coach started walking backward, in through the garage door. There he shoved Justin up against the wall, Coach pressing hard against him. His skin was damp and his muscles limp, his body trying to recover.
Coach gripped Justin’s shirt by the placket on each side and tugged it open. Buttons went flying, and he would have complained, but it was too hot. Coach forced the shirt over Justin’s shoulders and down his arms, where it trapped them against Justin’s sides, Coach’s mouth never leaving his except to let them both take short gasps of air.
Justin was on fire. On fire. Fuck.
Coach plucked at his right nipple, teasing it with alternating hard and soft touches. It was barely starting to return to normal, to not be swollen. Coach seemed intent on returning it to its inflamed state.
“Coach.” He was going to bruise. Again.
“Huh?” Coach went down to bite at his nips.
“You’ll leave marks.” His toes curled. God. God, that throbbed.
“Yes.”
“You can’t. They’ll ache.” His cock was filling again.
“Yes,” Coach said again, pinching his right nipple hard.
“Fuck!” He went up on tiptoe.
“Eventually.” Coach grinned, tugging on his other nip.
“You have to stop….” Justin groaned, then wrinkled his nose. “I need to clean up.”
“We’ll shower in a minute.” Coach took his right nipple in and began sucking.
“I….” Fuck. Fuck, that was intense. He felt each and every pull, balls-deep.
Coach wasn’t stopping either. No, if anything the suction was getting stronger. Sounds started leaving him, tearing from him. His whole body reacted. Then Coach’s teeth closed over the very tip of his nipple and bit down. Justin screamed, the sensation overwhelming, sharp. Perfect. Coach’s smile tugged at the edges of his skin, and then he soothed the hurt with his hot tongue.
The room was spinning and Justin was shaking, cock hard again. Coach finally let go of his nipple, the ambient air hitting it hard, surprisingly cold. Then Coach headed right for his other nipple. He shifted away and shook his head, hand hiding the as-yet-unabused nub. Coach growled—growled!—at him.
“Coach!”
“I’m going to make it a rule, Justin. You never, ever hide your nips from me.”
Justin covered the other one too. “A rule?”
Coach growled again, took Justin’s hands, and yanked them away. “No hiding your nips from me. Or you will be punished.”
“You can’t.” He couldn’t quite breathe.
“Is that a challenge?”
“I’m not going to let you.” He was achingly hard.
“You aren’t going to have a choice.” Coach leaned in and bit his left nipple.
“H-hey!” He was burning up. “Oh God.”
“Right here.” Coach grinned and snapped his teeth in the air close to his other nipple. Justin stepped away, heart racing. Coach grasped his hand. “Okay. Shower, bed, and if you’re very good, making love.”
“I….” He shivered, nodded, so close to meltdown it was crazy.
Without waiting for him to say more, Coach strode down the hall with Justin in tow. He stumbled along behind, heart pounding. When he dropped his shirt off his arms, it dangled from his wrist, caught where Coach had his hand, and refused to let go until they reached the bathroom. Justin toed off his shoes, hurrying to get his nasty pants an
d briefs off.
“I made you cream your jeans.” Coach appeared awfully proud of himself.
Justin’s cheeks burned, and he ducked his head, embarrassed.
Coach cupped his cheek and tilted his head back up. “I made you come in your pants. That’s not anything to be ashamed of. It’s something to revel in.”
He swallowed hard, then just shoved back into Coach’s arms. He needed touch. Coach’s mouth dropped down on his, the kiss hot and hard and wiping everything else away. Justin sobbed into the kiss, shattered, overwhelmed. He had trusted this man with everything for his whole life.
“I have you,” whispered Coach.
Justin managed to nod. Good. Good. He needed that right now. More kisses followed, Coach making his head swim.
Somehow they were in the shower together, naked, hot water making things fuzzy. Coach’s hands soothed and excited him, sliding over his body and touching him everywhere. His nerves and worries faded, and he could breathe, touch Coach back. Eventually Coach leaned him up against the tile, taking kiss after kiss from him. Justin gave them gladly, moaning and sighing happily with every kiss.
“Sensual. Sexy. Amazing boy.”
“Coach. So good.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Coach took his mouth again.
Justin could happily drown in Coach’s kisses. He stayed close, each kiss making him that much more solid. Coach rubbed against him, cock hard on his belly. He reached down, stroking Coach gently, slowly, wanting to give the man pleasure.
“Mmm.” Coach hummed into the kiss, hand coming up to curl around his hip. They rocked together, Justin continuing to pet, to stroke, to love on Coach.
Coach’s other hand slid along Justin’s side and then found his nipple and rubbed his thumb across it. The ache was deep, reaching down into his belly, but his relaxation was greater. A little pinch tweaked his nipple, and Coach sucked on his tongue. He gripped Coach’s cock and rubbed the tip. Coach jerked and pinched Justin’s nipple again.
“Coach….” Justin shook his head, poked at Coach’s chest to make some space between them.
But Coach slipped the hand at Justin’s hip around to grab his ass to pull himself close again. Justin shook, only the littlest bit, but all over.
“I have you,” Coach told him, eyes meeting his.