CHOOSE YOUR FATE By FloxPublishing
Copyright 2020 all rights reserved by the author.
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Chapter 5: The Dragon and the Gladiator
Jack and Dave lived in a small house a few miles from campus. Jack's parents were well off and had a reputation of helping out guys on the hockey team with cheap rent. I arrived at their house late because I didn't want to carry too many books with me so I pushed off heading over until I absolutely couldn't risk running into my roommate Chester and his date. Hopefully giving him some space would mean the end to his short dry spell of unsuccessful dates.
I let myself in like they told me and ran into Jack and Dave in the kitchen. Both were shirtless and in their hockey shorts. I said hi and got settled on their couch to finish up some last reading for the next day. I couldn't help but notice their bodies shuffling around in the background. Jack was the taller of the two and though he was quite muscular, he was more on the lean side. Chester had said he was the fastest on the team and it made sense to me. Jack had hair over his chest but kept it short and trimmed. It had always looked kind of funny to me when hair on a guy's chest grows back after trimming it and in the past I had made fun of my brother Nolan for manscaping, as he called it. He, in return, made fun of my peach fuzz on my chest and legs, which was just as invisible trimmed or not. Dave, however, was a tank. He definitely had spent a significant amount of time in the gym working on his guns. I figured he would make a good goalie judging by his frame alone, which made sense as he was indeed the team's goalie. He did not care for manscaping at all, I figured, as his hair grew wild all over, thinner over his chest but got more dense closer to his waist. After I'd gotten somewhat used to Chester's surreal amount of hair, I thought nothing would surprise me anymore.
Soon after I'd finished, the guys presented a batch of home-made pizza bread and for the fact that two college jocks had struggled to get it ready for hours, it was actually really good. We watched a movie while chatting about this and that until eventually I was too curious not to ask, "Think Chester's night is going all right?" Jack laughed and added, "I think the question is whether the girl's night is going all right. She'd be foolish to turn down a ride on the Beast." "Then again, there's only so many women who can handle him," Dave chimed in. "Maybe he exhausted the pool of women on campus who can handle him." We laughed but I couldn't shake the feeling the guys knew more about the topic than I did. I tried to focus on the piece of pizza crust in front of me until I had to find out just a little bit more. "Is this the first time Chester's dates have been bailing?" I asked carefully. "No, not at all," Jack answered, "our first semester, he went from dating non-stop to all but none, scaring off half of his new conquests." Dave laughed, his mind drifting off to his sweet freshman memories, "Poor bastard's so horny he almost needs to get laid twice or three times a day to focus on anything other than his dick." Jack pushed him aside. By then, we'd moved to the kitchen to knock out some dirty dishes. Jack resumed, "He's one of the strongest players on the team. And he plays best when he's well taken care of. Last time he went without a girl for a week, we almost lost because he was too distracted." Dave pulled me closer, "I would be distracted as well if I were so well equipped." He almost whispered these words, "First time he walked into the showers freshman year after practice we knew we'd never be able to compete." Jack once again had to push away Dave, leaving me to wonder which parts of his stories were true. "Don't listen to him, Finn. He's just been horny because his girl is out on a field trip until the weekend." Dave tackled Jack in response, "you're the one always hogging the bathroom for hours because you can't get a girl at all. Picky my ass." They wrestled for a moment leaving me to finish the dishes. When their score was settled, they shook hands and got ready to retreat. "We're just messing with you. Chester's a good guy. Awesome player, great friend. Stick close to him, he cares about you, too, bud. You and Nolan, too." With that, Dave took off upstairs, his broad shoulders glistening in the sweat he'd worked up.
I was about to get settled on the couch when Jack invited me to stay in his room for the night. He had a couch in his room and said the living room got pretty cold at night. He knew about my issues with hypothermia and helped me carry my bag and books upstairs. "You're almost one of the team. Our pack doesn't leave anyone behind. One hand washes the other, dude." "Thanks," was all I could offer in return. Maybe the guys were a lot deeper than I'd imagined. Jack's room was pretty fancy with all-new furniture and tons of trophies like Chester's. I immediately noticed a stuffy smell walking in and figured it must be the hamper, which was overflowing in the corner. Must be hockey thing, great on the ice, not so great at keeping up with housework. Jack and I chatted for a while about school, girls and music. From the first time I'd met Jack, he'd always teased me for my accent, an Irish brogue I'd never been able to shake all my life even after moving to Canada. "Dude, you don't even know how lucky you are. It's adorable. I can't believe you're not using it to pick up girls. They'd be all over you if you'd lean more into it." I laughed, "I dunno. Seems like yer the one havin' a weakness far it." I exaggerated my words slurring in the most stereotypical fashion my grandmother would disown me for. Jack cracked up. "Seriously. Nothing like a Celtic redhead. If a girl with that accent was giving me a blowjob, I'd cum just from listening to her talk sexy to me." With that, more unconsciously than not, his hand wandered to his crotch and groped his crotch. His hand pulled on his bulge a second time before I finally averted my eyes which had followed his movements. "See, you're getting me riled up just talking about it," Jack laughed it off with one more tug. "If you need a wingman let me know," I joined in on the joke. Jack got up and slowly dropped his hockey shorts. I was confused, not sure where to look. I relaxed a little bit when I saw he had boxers on underneath but couldn't help but notice his bulge bouncing lightly as he hopped out of his hockey shorts and flopped back onto his bed. As soon as he dropped his shorts, I noticed a strange yet familiar scent in the air. Though not as strong, it reminded me of Chester's post-workout musk and thought it had to be a mix of testosterone and sweat. Jack tugged on his boxers one more time and this time I was certain the smell in the room had gotten stronger. With one leg, he flung his workout shorts on top of the hamper in the corner. Maybe that's why the team was going so strong, I thought, with all the hormones flowing through their veins.
"Time for bed, I guess," Jack's voice cut off my thoughts. "We've got practice in the morning." "Yeah, and I got class." I stripped to my underwear myself and got cozy on the couch. We turned off the lights and soon I was ready to relax and doze off. There was something about the smell of sweaty gym clothes I'd gotten so used to from sharing an apartment with Chester that it almost comforted me on a very concerning but familiar level. I shook my head at how silly this thought was when I heard some rustling in Jack's bed. I shifted ever so slightly but it was so dark I could not see anything clearly. I lay in the dark listening to Dave's droning snores from the next room over and Jack's breathing close by. For a moment, I thought I'd heard a familiar and intimate sound. I froze as another rustle of sheets more clearly alluded to a hand rubbing against cloth. Not sure what to do, I refused to believe Jack would touch himself with me sleeping basically next to his bed. I turned ever so slightly but I wasn't able to see anything nor did I want to invade Jack's space even more. Maybe he'd forgotten I was there or he was half-asleep. From the sound of if, his hand rubbed slowly against flesh, slow and more experimental than driven by lust, intercut with a deep and sensual sigh, almost too quiet to be heard. He paused, then brushed again. He tugged a few more times when my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. I wasn't able to see much besides a faint silhouette of a tent under Jack's sheets. He was clearly rubbing his boner, though, and guessing from the shadow, it must have been pretty big, or long at least. I shook my head at these thoughts, more curious than anything but yet I felt bad. I turned away to give Jack some more space, not like it made a difference in the small space. After yet another rub, I heard a sigh, less of pleasure than disappointment, almost as though he had remembered I was there and given up on his ventures. In a quick shuffle, he seemed to have put away his boner because next time I dared turn, he was facing away from me snoring lightly. I took a deep breath of relief, involuntarily drawing in more of the masculine smell which had gotten thicker in the air. Maybe, I thought, someday I'd get used to the smell so it wouldn't catch me off guard like this every time, because I didn't like the fascination I had with the smell of what I believed was pure testosterone. Hopefully I'd learn to produce some more on my own soon.
The next morning, I did everything I could to hide a bad case of morning wood and waited until Jack went to the bathroom to put on some clothes. As we packed our bags for the day, I turned to Jack. "Thank you for letting me crash here. I owe you one." Jack smiled. "Sure thing. I'll remind you some day, when it's time to pay up." He smirked and his white teeth flashed. When we walked downstairs, Dave was in a teasing mood again. "Morning sunshine. You look pretty good." I was confused, "What do you mean?" "Usually, the girls look pretty exhausted when they come out of Jack's room in the morning after he roughs them up. He at least do his laundry this time?" He winked at me while he handed me a plate of pancakes. "We all know Irish is just his type. Trust me I'd know. Walls are like paper in here." Jack knocked Dave over the head more playful than angry, "At least I successfully laid more than three girls since freshman year." Dave patted his bulge, which actually looked significantly thick in the morning light. "What can I say. Not many can handle a thickie like this monster. And no one as well as Cassidy. Admit you're jealous." He howled. Jack mused for a moment, then admitted, "You know what, fair enough. I'm happy you found your dragon tamer lady, bud." I figured Dave might have earned a "title" of his own on the team based on his conquests. The guys must have seen the confusion on my face because Dave proudly affirmed my assumptions, "Yup, they call me the Dragon and this guy here is the Gladiator. Careful, buddy, take it from me, the Celtic were conquered by the Romans and this guy's intentions are no different." Jack once again pushed Dave away, "Bullshit. Don't listen to this weirdo. You date two Irish girls in a row and you got a reputation stuck to you like a piece o' paper taped to your back." "Three," corrected Dave. "She was English." "No difference," Dave groaned. "Yeah it is, huge difference," this time I cut in. We all laughed it off. "We're all very close on the team. In every regard. No secrets, no privacy." "Don't scare him off, Dave, maybe he wants to join us for a practice or two sometime," Jack put his arm around me, "think about it." Seemed the guys were all pretty cool and thought, maybe I will. Deep down, however, I was scared because I knew I wouldn't stand a chance on the ice against all the masculine and strong athletes oozing testosterone in a match for dominance.