Free Point Shot 01 - Two Man Advantage by V.L. Locey

just several hours ago. He slept just like he went through life—with energy. His thrashing was what had awoken me, as it had a few times during our road trip. Instead of snapping at him then stealing the covers back, I took this time to visually adore his body. Yeah, I was that fond of it. And him. Rest assured, that terrified me no end.
    I moved closer to him, needing to touch him. My finger roamed over his spine. It dallied in the divot of his lower back. It traced letters and messages across his wide upper back. The man never moved. He twitched a few times, making noises like a contented cat, but never opened his eyes. My prick was thick already. I’d had never had it this bad for a guy before. Or a girl, for that matter, and that was another realization that had my nervous system tied into knots. What was it about this squat little Canuck that made me hard and giddy all at once?
    Dan’s cell began to ring. Muttering at the stupid-ass Bloodhound Gang “The Bad Touch” ring tone he had, I slid out from under the covers, pawed through our discarded clothing, then slid the sleek black Droid out of the front pocket of his Levi Strauss & Co. jeans. I didn’t know the number on the screen, but I knew the last name. Dan grumbled like a bear being poked during its winter nap when I shook him.
    “Hey, don’t be calling me names, Thumbelina. Your mother’s calling,” I said, then placed his ringing phone next to his head. He groped around blindly until he found the phone. I crawled back under the covers, resuming my exploration of his body.
    “Hey, Mama,” he slurred terribly. “No, no, not hungover, just really tired. Not much sleep,” he said as he rolled onto his back, the phone held to his left ear. His eyes were closed. Wild tufts of brown hair stood out at crazy angles. I rested my head on my hand as I ran my flattened palm over his pectorals. The springy hair covering his chest crackled beneath my hand. “You betcha, I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” He yawned, wantonly flexing his pectorals, eyes still closed but lips twitching with a smile. Fucker was always smiling, it seemed. I groped his pec. “You okay if I bring a friend?”
    Every nerve ending in my body ignited at once. I couldn’t vacate the bed fast enough. Dan opened his eyes, hissed at the morning sun, then found me scurrying around like a demented squirrel trying to stash its nuts.
    “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know if I can talk him into it. Okay, yah. Give Papa a hug for me,” he said, then hung up, or so I assumed. I didn’t know for sure. I was too busy trying to shove my legs into my jeans. “You want to tell me what has you so fucking flustered that you’re trying to put on my pants?”
    I looked down at the jeans, tugged them off and threw them at the man in my bed.
    “You fucking miserable runt,” I snarled, keeping my back to him so he couldn’t see what was churning all over my face.
    “What? I thought since you weren’t doing the holiday with your own family, you’d like to come with me to Manitoba while the Americans on the team celebrate Thanksgiving down here. It’s my younger brother’s birthday.” I heard the bed frame squeak. His feet hit the floor. I spun to face him. Clearly he was not with it yet mentally if he didn’t catch the “NFW” aura all around me. “You don’t have to, you know. I just thought it would give us time together, you know, away from the team and press and shit. The media is going to be thick at the game tonight. News is out about you being cut down. It’ll be fun. My folks, they won’t mind you being there. They know I’m gay.”
    “Shit, Arou, what the fucking hell?” I asked, my boxers stalling halfway over my ass. “Why would you ask me to meet your parents? Fuck no, we are not going nowhere near that, meeting your mother—what if… Call her back and tell her I’m not coming.”
    “Why? It’s not as if you’re doing anything with your mother, right?” he