Page 12 of Two for Charging

Luca nearly swallowed his own tongue. “You should take off anything you don’t want getting covered in this.”

Breezy stripped off his shirt and pants easy as anything, leaving him in his socks and novelty boxer briefs. Little bottles of hot sauce and flames covered his underwear, and as he lay on his stomach on the couch, the swell of his ass was so generous Luca couldn’t even disagree with the stupid boxers. He was hot. Burning hot.

If Luca straddled Breezy, he’d have no chance of not getting aroused.

Instead, he kneeled beside Breezy and popped the lid of the jar. “I will start with your back,” he announced, which left him with no alternative but to touch Breezy.

For once, Breezy didn’t talk, and Luca entered a meditative state in the quiet room, the only sound the whisper of his hands moving across Breezy’s warm skin. The sharp medicinal scent of the cream kept Luca focused on what he was meant to be doing, pressing hard into the lines of muscle and working the cream in deep.

When he reached the knots in Breezy’s lumbar region, tense from low-down drills that had kept him bent at the waist, Breezy groaned.

Luca smirked to himself. “Good?”

“Mm,” Breezy agreed, and burrowed his face deeper into his arms, relaxing under Luca’s hands.

It was adorable. Adorable, Luca could work with. Adorable made him want to hold Breezy in his arms forever, not fuck him into a sweaty mess. Small progress.

“Hey, could you get my legs too? My quads are fucking killing me.”

Not as much as Luca would kill him out of pure frustration. “Sure,” he said through gritted teeth and reached for more salve.

Breezy had massive thighs. Tree trunks, easily, muscle all the way around to the softer, fleshy inner sides. Luca wouldn’t mind having his face trapped between them, and he wouldn’t care whether his mouth was on Breezy’s cock or his ass while he did it.

He took a deep, steadying breath. He would not make this weird. It was a friendly sports massage.

He set his hands on Breezy’s thighs and began to rub the ointment in.

Breezy’s legs spread minutely.

Luca dug his thumbs in, and Breezy made a soft, satisfied sound in his throat.

Heat swamped Luca, making his cock thicken and his head swim. He dug deep with his thumbs, then pressed down as he ran his palms along the length of Breezy’s thighs, from the line of his ridiculous underwear to the backs of his knees.

“Oh God, that feels so good.” Breezy’s arms muffled his voice, which didn’t make his words any less soul-destroying.

Luca bit down hard on his lower lip to stop any response from escaping. He kept massaging, slow and hard and perhaps a little too sensually for a casual interaction between friends. There was no way he could stop himself from stroking gently with his thumbs as he used the heels of his hands to get the tension out, no earthly measure with which he could resist dipping his fingertips into the soft crease between Breezy’s legs as he worked his way in and out.

The sounds Breezy made were obscene. He wasn’t trying to be sexy, but the rumble of his voice, lowered from exhaustion and, Luca flattered himself, pleasure was more erotic than any porn soundtrack. Not to mention the praise he kept mumbling, telling Luca how perfect his hands were and how good Luca made him feel.

By the time he’d worked in all the salve, Luca was hard as a rock and about two minutes from coming in his sweatpants.

That would have been a low point for any man, but more so for one who had managed to last a full forty-five minutes literally inside a very attractive law school student on the team’s road trip to Denver last year. Luca prided himself on his stamina as well as his sophisticated taste in partners.

Of course, Breezy would be the anomaly in both Luca’s taste and, apparently, his staying power.

He moaned when Luca took his hands off him. The sound sent molten lava through Luca’s belly. His cock twitched and leaked.

“You should be a massage therapist if the hockey thing doesn’t work out.” Breezy twisted his head, and his eyes blinked open slowly.

Luca scrambled into a cross-legged position, allowing the generous cut of his sweatpants to hide the swell of his erection. He could do nothing about the spot where precome had seeped through the fabric. Hopefully, Breezy wouldn’t notice or mistake it for the salve, or water, or anything but what it was.

“You want me to get you back?”

The thought of Breezy’s big hands all over him nearly made Luca salivate. He’d give anything to lie face down in the couch with those hands firm on his skin everywhere he ached from a week of rough practices. He could grind his hips into the soft give of the cushions when it got to be too much, let himself go and come and—

His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, dripping more precome onto his thigh.

“No,” Luca said as firmly as he could. He scrambled to his feet and turned away, hoping again Breezy hadn’t seen anything. The bathroom was the first door on the left, closer than either of their bedrooms, but not close enough. He stumbled over his own feet, unable to concentrate on anything but the brutal stiffness of his cock. If he could touch—just for a second—