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I grimaced, ready to protest, but he spoke over me.

“Tense your abs.”

I tried my best to comply, to focus as best I could on controlling the muscles I was simultaneously so proud and so frustrated of. Forever a work-in-progress; forever falling short in comparison to my bigger, stronger, more developed bros.

Only it wasn’t disappointment I could see on Jefferson’s face, as he brushed across each ridge, but fascination.

He bunched a fist; tapped his knuckles against my clenching belly. Softly, at first, and then harder: as if with growing certainty that I could handle it, wasn’t fragile or delicate. The smack of bare skin leaving behind a spreading heat that seemed to glow from within my chest.

“Fuck, Eoin.”

Strange to hear him sound overwhelmed, overloaded. Strange and powerful.

I grabbed his wrist, my fingers barely wrapping it. Pushed down, guiding his hand to where my erection still fought the stretched pouch of the jock. Hissed when his fingers closed around me.

Greater motivation - as if I needed it - to bounce on him, then. Each movement working my cock through his grip: not the perfect angle, or the ideal friction, but still enough to have me bucking until my thighs burned.

Maybe he took pity on me; maybe Jefferson was just as eager to play with me, as I was with him. His fingers digging past the strained elastic, working my dick free to stroke it with greater urgency. Rough fingertips teasing my drooling tip, then working that gooey slick down my shaft.

Leaning back, I braced myself on his thighs. My torso stretched; reveling in the way Jefferson stared up at me. The hunger in his expression and the way he couldn’t tear his eyes away; the score of red across each cheek.

Sometimes, when he looked at me, it was like I’d never been seen so completely.

In parts, yes. My body broken down, split into leg day and arm day; areas of weakness, areas underperforming. All metrics and measurements, but never just as Eoin.

Jefferson saw me as a person, not a project. I’d found it was as terrifying as it was addictive.

He gripped my thigh, steadying my pace. Slowing me - ignoring how I pushed against him, still chasing that burr of rising heat - as he watched my face intently.

I bit my lip, hips still bucking as best they could, the sound of our sweat-slicked skin kissing loud in the tent.

“You know you’re perfect, right?”

Ridiculous to blush, and yet he somehow knew the words that’d provoke it each time.

“Stop,” I told him, breathless.

Jefferson’s fingers tightened on my leg, pointed and impossible to ignore.

“No, I won’t.” He brushed his thumb across my cockhead, watching me squirm atop him. “Not when I know you need to hear it.”

I wanted to believe, that was the painful part. The root of my embarrassment; the reason hearing my team captain’s earnest compliments had me writhing self-consciously, with an intensity far greater than his hands on my dick could ever achieve. Wanted to trust in that deep voice, the unflinching gaze, the sense that Jefferson was beyond needing to flatter or beguile. The desperation to simply accept what he told me - not muddy things with my own doubts and uncertainties - was as overwhelming as when we had sex.

I still couldn’t quite believe that happened, frankly. Maybe it was no great surprise that I struggled to accept his praise, too.

He sat up, startling me from my spiraling thoughts. Tugging me to him, manhandling me in that easy way I knew I should be resentful of - jealous of his greater strength, his talent - but could only ever find arousing. Jefferson’s arms around me, my cock grinding against his stomach.

Now, when he pulled me down into his lap, it felt like half my body was filled with him. The perfect angle, and his perfect heat, and the all-encompassing circling of his muscles: as reassuring as much as it left me drooling.

“Let’s never stop doing this,” I gasped out, my head lolling back. As though, now Jefferson had seized control, every part of my body bar my dick had softened.

He laughed; I felt the shake of it as much as I heard it.

“Fine by me, lil bro. You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?”

My eyes snapped to meet his, outrage surging in me before I could even find a name for it.

“Never! You know I... I...”