“Damnit, Archer,” Cullen growls, gently sliding out of me.
I collapse onto the bed laughing and pull the sheet up to cover my body.
Cull grabs his shorts from the floor, shoving his legs in then stomping to the door, wrenching it open.
Archer stands on the other side, dressed and ready for our off-season exhibition soccer game we have today. He saunters in, not a care in the world and drops down into the chair in the corner of the room.
“I thought y’all would never wrap it up.”
“You were out there listening to us, you freaking pervert?” Cull shuts the door and comes back over to the bed, dropping down next to me, scowling at Archer.
“My room is right across the hall and you’re not exactly quiet.” He leans back in the chair, a smirk tugging his lips.
“Call it even for that poor guy who did the walk of shame out of your room the night before last,” I say, arching a brow right back at him. “He was a screamer.”
Archer’s cheeks flush. “Uh, yeah… anyway…” he clears his throat and changes the subject. “We have to be down at the field in forty-five minutes. Coach won’t like it if we’re late, even if this is just an exhibition game.”
“We know, and we have plenty of time. Give us ten minutes to shower and we’ll meet you in the common room downstairs.”
Archer stands and heads to the door before turning and pointing a finger at Cullen. “Hands to yourself in the shower. I know Hud is a hot piece of ass, but you don’t have time for round two.”
Cullen chucks a pillow at the door, just as Archer slams it shut, laughing.
“I love the guy, but he needs boundaries,” Cull says, sighing. He pulls me to stand and leads us to the bathroom.
One thing I love about the athlete dorms is that every room has a private bath, something Cull and I utilize together—often.
“He needs a friend,” I tell him, examining my neck in the mirror for any hickeys.
Cullen scoffs, adjusting the water temperature. “Who are we then?”
“His friends, but the poor guy lost his boyfriend and best friend in the span of a few months. He’s lonely, babe.”
“Is that why he’s bringing home a different guy almost every night?” He asks, tugging me into the warm spray. He lathers uphis hands with shampoo and motions for me to turn around so he can wash my hair.
“That’s exactly why. He’s trying to compensate for what he doesn’t have, which is a real connection.”
“Mmm, I loved the real connection we just had,” he murmurs into my neck. “I think we can strengthen it a little bit if you want.” His hand trails down my stomach, stopping to brush my spent cock.
I laugh and shove him away. “Archer was right, we don’t have time.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, hurrying through the rest of his shower.
We dry ourselves and quickly work through our morning routine, throwing on our uniforms and preparing our sports bags. Cullen is tossing in his cleats when he catches me staring at myself in the mirror.
“Everything alright?” He comes up behind me, his eyes connecting with my reflection.
“Everything is perfect.”
Well, not perfect. I still have some rough days, although they are few and far between. All things considered, this is the best I have felt since my diagnosis at sixteen.
So life isn’t perfect, but it’s really fucking good.
Archer, Cullen and I all made the soccer team for Ashbridge, a feat for three athletes all from the same high school. As freshmen, we don’t see much field time, but that’s okay.
We made it.
School is going great, too. My classes are challenging, but I’m enjoying them nonetheless. Cull and I even share a couple, which is nice.
