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Chapter 3: Spring Rolls
I woke up the next day in a daze. It was cold in the room. It was Sunday. Midterms were coming that week, but they weren’t front of mind for me, not at that moment. The whole of the last few days felt like a surreal thing, like I'd dreamed it all, except I knew I hadn't. Peter was asleep on his bed with the sheet pulled over himself, actually covered for once, a rare showing of modesty. I lay there for a minute and stared at him, thinking about everything he had started.
Was it Peter who really started it? There was a dry spell going around for most of the team, based on commiseration surfacing regularly in group shower conversations. Maybe that was it. I couldn’t really think of it too hard, but at least there was still some doubt.
But maybe it really started with Nick. Maybe something was always there, and Peter was just a catalyst.
I went to grab food and Nick was already there, eating with a few of the other hockey guys at one of the long tables. I felt it in my stomach the second I saw him, a drop and a lift at the same time. He looked up and smiled, nervous, and quick. I did the same and tried to bury the thoughts, stopping them from showing on my face.
"What's up, boys," I said to the group, careful to say it to the group, not to single him out, not to give away whatever the two of us had become.
"They're out of veggie spring rolls," Nick said, pulling my eyes to him.
"Darn," I said.
"I know you like those." He nudged a plate toward the empty seat. "But I gotchu. I stacked a bunch for you before the other veggie lovers got to ‘em."
It made me smile before I could stop it, and I turned to go grab a real plate so nobody'd see my face do the thing it was doing.
"Awww, cute," one of the guys said behind me, in a flatly ironic voice. "You got spring rolls for your boyfriend."
The table laughed. Nick laughed too, enjoying the joke like it was nothing. I laughed. Everybody laughed at the joke that was just a joke, and only the two of us knew it wasn't exactly just a joke.
—[]—
We hit the gym after, but it was really crowded, and we got tired of waiting for things. When we tried to sneak into the athlete showers like the day before, Jimmy was posted at the door and shyly put a hand up before we got two steps in.
"I got in hella trouble last time," he said. "You guys gotta take your soapy muscle-butt game somewhere else, unfortunately."
"Damn," I said. "You gonna play with us too?"
I was joking. But his eyes lit up a little, just a flicker, and then he caught himself, and the three of us stood there in a small awkward moment, where I felt kind of bad for the guy. He wanted in on something and didn't know how to ask. Nick saw it too.
"Come to our dorm later and hang out. We'll play some video games." Nick said, stepping in for the poor guy’s sake. "Not soapy-muscle bare-ass games. Actual video games."
"Okay," Jimmy said, fast, like he'd been hoping for exactly this. "I'm off in like twenty minutes."
I told him where my dorm was, and we left, still dirty from the gym.
—[]—
Nick and I went back to shower at my dorm instead.
“It’s getting cold, dude,” I said on the way, “It doesn’t get this cold where I’m from.”
“This is nothing,” Nick said back, “just wait til January.”
I could visualize the “brr” emoji in the way he said it.
The dorm showers were surprisingly crowded for mid-afternoon on a Sunday, a bunch of stalls full, guys in and out. These showers had dividers, naturally. They weren’t built for team bonding and they weren’t a hundred years old, and I needed the warm water after the cold walk, so I wasn’t feeling exactly patient.
Nick must have felt the same way, because we wordlessly jumped into the same stall together, trying to be sneaky about it, two jocks, one especially big, cramming into one shower.
It was the kind of thing we would have done any time, before recent events. If it was a necessary thing, we would share a shower head here and there, save water, crack jokes, no big deal. Except now it was the day after he kissed me, or I kissed him, I don’t even remember. Not to mention all the gay sex with Peter.
Now it was the two of us, naked, in a small tiled box with the water running, and it felt completely different than it ever had.
We both got quiet as soon as our clothes came off.
Nick reached past me to turn the water hotter and his arm brushed my chest, and neither of us moved away from it. That was the first thing. Normally one of us would have shifted, made room, kept the casual six inches of space that two straight guys keep even in a shared shower. We didn't. He left his arm there a second too long and I let him, and the steam started filling up the stall around us.
I grabbed the body wash and pumped some into my hand, mostly to have something to do with myself, and Nick turned his back to me and said "get my back." Another running joke that didn’t typically result in actual physical contact.
But I put my soapy hands on his shoulders. I had seen this back a hundred times, spotted him under barbells with it flexing in front of me, but I'd never had my hands flat on it like this, feeling the muscle move under the skin while the water ran down it. I worked down his shoulder blades slowly, slower than the washing required, and he dropped his head forward and let me.
My mind went sort of blank, and soon my hands moved on from washing, to just touching.
When he turned back around, we were closer than before, our bodies almost touching, and there wasn't really anywhere to put my hands that wasn't on him. He took the body wash and returned the favor, both his palms flat on my chest, dragging down over my stomach, and I felt my whole body react to it, every muscle pulling tight under his hands. He noticed. He looked down between us and saw what was happening to both of us, our bodies shifting blood flow and beginning to press against each other lightly, and then he looked back up at my face with a small grin, and he didn't say anything, he just kept his hands moving lower as he leaned forward, bringing his cheek to mine as his lips approached my ear.
"This is so hot," he whispered when his hands finally went below my waist.
I didn't answer with words. I reached down and took him in my soapy hand too, both of us fully hard, and his breath caught and stuttered out of him. I loved seeing this new side of Nick, the big, confident guy going completely quiet, undone from a touch. I pictured how he must act with girls, when doing this.
He braced a hand on the tile wall behind me. With the other he squeezed my shaft, and then we were both doing it, face to face under the water, our foreheads touching, working each other with soap and spit and body wash, slow and clumsy and figuring it out as we went.
When he reached for my hips, I looked into his eyes and grabbed him but the mounds of glute he kept behind him. We pulled our bodies together from the middle, and started rubbing firmly into each other.
"Why is this so hot," he breathed against my mouth, almost angry about it, like he couldn't make it make sense.
"I don't know," I whispered back.
Then he kissed me, and suddenly the sensation in my dick didn’t feel like the main event anymore. I felt it in my whole body as we made out under the water, my best friend’s mouth on mine. He pushed me back against the wet tile and I felt the cool sensation on my butt, both of us still grinding into each other as the steam closed in around us until it was just his lips and his hands and the heat of him pressed against me.
"It's gay," I whispered into his mouth. I don't even know why I said it. It wasn't a complaint. It was almost like I was positing a hypothetical.
"Yeah," he breathed back, and kept kissing me.
It was somewhere in there that I felt people watching.
A couple of guys had looked over the top of the divider from the next stalls. I caught one in my peripheral, then another, eyes going wide, and I heard the giggling start, a snicker, a quiet "yo, no way," somebody gasping. Two of the hockey program's finest, fully busted, making out in a dorm shower in broad Sunday afternoon daylight.
And, weirdly, I didn't care. Neither did Nick. We didn't break apart, didn't flinch, didn't kill the moment. I kept my eyes shut and my mouth on his and let them look, let them snicker over the divider, and the not-caring felt almost as good as the rest of it. I even liked that people were watching. This didn’t need to be a secret. A day ago I would have died, but now I just held onto Nick’s glutes and let the room have its little show as we publicly humped each other.
He finished first without warning me, just moaning into my mouth. I felt him throb as his seed landed on my body, mixing with the water. He focused on me after that, gripping me in his hand and increasing speed, and I finished a moment behind him. I felt the elation in my head, a moment of peace I hadn’t known before. More than the excitement of the last couple days, it was like the climax I had been building toward.
We came down slowly, foreheads together, breathing hard, the water still running over both of us, my hand gripping his muscular butt with both hands, feeling his meat still throbbing against my abs, all his release washing away. The faces had ducked back behind the divider. We rinsed off without rushing, traded a couple of minor fallbacks, where one of us would lean back in for another kiss, half a joke, and then I bumped my hip into his and he grabbed my ass and we both laughed. We kept humping at each other lightly as we dried off. It was like a play-up of the jock style games we do in the locker rooms, bringing us back to center after fully engaging in urges we hadn’t entertained before. I was not really sure I had ever even had the interest before recently.
I guess sometimes, all it takes is opportunity.
And a gay roommate that knows how to take advantage of a dry spell among the jocks.
When we finally walked out past the row of stalls, past the guys who'd looked at us, nobody said anything to our faces. We heard the snickers follow us out, amused and giggling, and we just kept walking, towels around our waists, out into the hall. We didn’t really care enough in the moment to make it a thing.
We headed back toward my dorm without talking about it. We were going to be hanging out together the rest of the day. That didn’t need to be discussed. I had my key out as we got to my door, but it was already cracked open. In the excitement of the day, and while mid-conversation with Nick, I somehow forgot about what happens when I walk into my dorm unannounced.
—[]—
I pushed open the door and stopped in my tracks.
Peter was on his knees on the floor in front of a skinny, naked dude who was sitting on the edge of the bed. The guy was blindfolded, hands tied behind his back.
And he was hung like a fucking walrus.
My eyes went wide. Nick froze next to me.
I had never seen dick that big in person, maybe even in porn. Some kinky freshman boy was carrying around a pink flesh pringles can in his pants, and Peter was expertly pleasuring him with his mouth while simultaneously twisting his nipple like he was trying to make him really feel the burn, and tugging his balls like he was starting a lawnmower.
This kid had a genuinely absurd amount of dick. Peter was worshipping it with his full attention, and the guy was losing his mind.
"That's the spot, yes, oh fuck yeah!" the blindfolded guy gasped.
And then I looked at the face of the dude, what I could see around the blindfold, the boyish jaw, the haircut, and I felt like I sort of recognized him.
Peter ignored us, and I don’t think the little dude, or big dude, depending on which part of him you want to reference, even realized we were there.
Nick squinted as he stared at the guy, like he recognized him too. Then he suddenly got the biggest smile as nudged me with his elbow, leaning toward my ear.
“It’s Jimmy!,” he whisper-yelled directly into my ear behind his hand. “The gym kid!”
That’s when my jaw dropped further. That nervous dude who had cautiously nudged us out of the shower room, staring at our jock bodies, was now getting his boyish little form twisted up in pleasure, having some kink sesh with the master of boy pleasure. And I was pretty sure I could see Peter’s hand going for his asshole next, under his balls.
I glanced around, looking for confirmation, when I saw a shirt on the floor. There it was, his work shirt, complete with the nametag, “Jimmy”.
I pointed at it. Nick and I smiled at each other as we silently cracked up, shaking, and pulled the door shut slowly, backing out into the hallway before we interrupted them.
The nervous polo-shirt kid from the shower door, the one we'd invited over for video games in twenty minutes, was tied up and blindfolded and absolutely feral on Peter's bed. He’d been packing the biggest dong on campus under that work uniform, apparently a complete freak the second somebody gave him permission to do it.
Apparently, he had knocked on our door while we were still finding ways to bond with each other in the shower, and Peter got to him. Of course he did. A couple days ago, Nick and I had been the nervous ones tentatively taking a dude’s body for pleasure for the first time, and now we were witness to the next one.
We ended up walking away, to nowhere specific, and soon we were on the dirt path that leads to the lake near campus, our feet just taking us there.
We didn't say much. The sun was going down over the water and it was getting even colder than it had been all day, and we walked closely together along the edge of the water, pointing out turtles, and somewhere in there, without a word, without a joke, Nick reached over and took my hand, and I didn’t feel cold anymore.