Matched By My Rival by DJ Jamison

8

PARKER

How was your day?

Like clockwork, BiCurious messaged me around ten Sunday evening. We’d fallen into a pattern of regular texting. I pinged him in the morning, usually before he was awake since I had early workout regimens for the team, and he messaged me at night. He worked late hours on the weekend, so sometimes it was just a quick note while he was on break, but he always checked in.

I lit up like an idiot at those notifications. He had become my touchstone, my point of connection when I felt invisible. I might be one of the most visible players on the Hayworth campus, regularly recognized and greeted by fans, but I had to hide part of who I was with everyone else. Only BiCurious really saw me.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t sugarcoat my response, the way I might have with a random hookup. I had moved beyond trying to impress him. I was honest with him. I liked him. Every day, the yearning for more than friendship grew inside me, but even if this was all I ever had, a confidante on the other side of the screen, BiCurious would remain important to me.

My day was shitty, I wrote. Yours?

Also shitty

We’re twinsies, I joked.

That sounds incestuous.

Only if we have sex.

There was a slight lag before he answered, True.

I couldn’t get a read on his reaction. True, we would likely have sex? True, it wasn’t incestuous because we never would? Obviously, it’d never really be incestuous since I was just cracking a joke about having equally bad days, but now I found myself burning to find out what was going through his mind.

I’d been so careful with him. Careful to flirt, rather than send blatant come-ons. Careful to nudge him into opening up without crossing any boundaries or prying into his personal business. I knew he was guarded, and so was I.

But suddenly I couldn’t go another second without knowing if this was leading anywhere other than friendship.

Heart in my throat, I asked him:

Do you think you’ll ever want to hookup? With me, I mean?

A few minutes elapsed. Shit, had I overstepped? I’d promised to be patient. Asking him a question like that, putting him on the spot was not the way to do that. I didn’t want to be that guy.

Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I don’t want to push.

Still no answer.

Fuuuuck.

Well, that was a perfect ending to a crappy weekend.

Coach had made us come in for a drill—even though it was Sunday—after dismissing us in disgust last Wednesday, insisting our heads weren’t in the game. He’d put us through our paces, reminding us that full practice with pads started the following Wednesday, and he wanted us on our game when it did.

Granted, my head hadn’t been focused for some time now. But the rest of the guys were working hard. Coach was obviously still pissed about Hangover-mageddon—and we were going to pay the price all year.

Saturday hadn’t been much better. I’d gone to the House Pledge project site as usual on Saturday—only to be ignored by Simon. I don’t even know why that bothered me so much. I should have been glad Simon was no longer handing out jobs; I’d escaped more crap work. But the way he’d kept his distance from me rankled. At least when I was covered in mud, he was laughing.

But why should I care about that? My reactions to him were fucking weird. I didn’t want his abuse, but his disinterest also didn’t sit right.

I opened my dorm fridge and pulled out a Gatorade, drinking it while I gathered my shower supplies. Might as well call an end to the day, I thought with a sigh. I’d been too moody to go out with the guys, and now I felt restless and lonely. I didn’t know what was up with me, except I was tired of everything.

Tired of football taking up ninety percent of my time and energy. Tired of the grudge Simon continued to harbor toward me. Tired of suppressing my sexuality.

I trudged down the hall, intent on showering away my dark mood. If I’d fucked up everything with BiCuriousStud, I didn’t know what I’d do. He’d become so much more than a hookup in the short time we’d been messaging. He’d become the first person I wanted to talk to in the morning, and the last one I wanted to hear from at night.

My stupid dick had probably ruined that, leaving me with nothing but my baffling obsession with Simon.

I showered and dressed, feeling only marginally better when I got back to my room. My phone still sat blank of notifications on my dresser.

I had to fight the urge to apologize to BiCurious again. I’d already said sorry, and I had to let him respond before I sent him a dozen more texts.

I turned out the lights, got into bed, and was reaching for my charging cord when my phone dinged twice in quick succession.

I fumbled it, nearly dropping it in my excitement, then slid my finger to bring up the notifications.

He’d finally replied.

Sorry, I’m at work. Just now got a minute to respond.

To answer your question, I do think about hooking up, but… I don’t know. This is new to me. I like to ease into things, you know?

Oh, thank the baby Jesus. He wasn’t blocking me. He wasn’t even angry. I hadn’t messed everything up. Maybe there was a way to salvage this day after all. Maybe I could help my new friend and unleash my urges just a little. But this time, I’d be careful. I’d make sure he knew I was okay with anything he wanted.

I could help you ease into it if you want. But only if you want.

Ease into it how?

We could start with you telling me what you’d like to do. What do you fantasize about?

There was another lengthy pause, during which I held my breath. I wanted him to say yes so damn badly. I knew I’d have to accept it if he didn’t, but damn, I really wanted to release some of the pent-up desire I felt for him—even if it was only through words. My whole body thrummed with anticipation in those few short moments that I waited for a reply. My skin prickled, my pulse sped up.

Ihadn’t ever wanted anyone like this in my entire fucking life. Not even my first boyfriend. Definitely not any of my more recent hookups. Maybe that thought should scare me. I hadn’t even met BiCurious, and I was half-gone over the guy. But maybe that’s why I wanted him so much. Unlike the few guys I’d fooled around with since starting college, I was getting to know him.

He messaged:Can you hold that thought? I’ll be home in about four hours.

My heart lurched, and I actually gasped in surprise. He didn’t say no. He wasn’t rejecting the idea outright. This might really happen.

In four fucking hours. I groaned and palmed my eager dick.

Sure. I’m probably gonna die of blue balls, but I’ll wait for you ;)

Such a romantic, BiCurious snarked, and I laughed out loud.

Staying up until two in the morning would be a stretch for me, but I could make an exception for this. For him.

We’d only been chatting for a couple of weeks, but I already talked to him more than anyone else in my life. And even though he didn’t know my name, or my position on the field, or even my major—he knew the important things. He knew I was a goof and a flirt; he knew I liked to embrace the happy things in life; he knew I doted on my niece, whom everyone called Screech because of the sheer volume of her lungs when she was three.

And I knew him too. I knew he was a little jaded, a bit disillusioned about life. But he was also a loyal friend. He worked hard, did favors for people he thought deserved it, and he was smart. A little reserved, but each day, some of that guard came down, and I saw bits and pieces of his personality.

I liked what I saw. I liked it a lot.

And now, finally, I might get to see a bit more. Not with photos or video just yet. I didn’t want to push him too far too fast. But I’d get to peek inside his head, preview his fantasies, and discover how compatible we might be.

I’ll just be here, naked, in bed…

He responded in his typical fashion: You’re such a fucker.

Then, before I could worry he might actually be bothered, he added: You’ll pay for this later.

Oh, hell yeah. That is one price I am happy to pay.

* * *

SIMON

What do you fantasize about?

HotPan’s question to me circled my head all evening as I finished up my shift and closed the bar with Rhett. What would I do with HotPan if I had him in front of me right now?

I was a simple guy. I’d kiss him. I’d kiss the shit out of HotPan, kiss him hard and wet and dirty. I’d push him against a wall, pull his bottom lip between my teeth, and make him gasp.

And…that’s where my mind went blank.

Kissing.

It wasn’t exactly going to win me any sexting awards. For all I knew, HotPan wouldn’t even want to kiss. Some guys were just about getting off and getting gone. He’d stuck around, chatting with me, becoming a friend. So, he probably wanted more, right?

But that thought only set my pulse racing more. Was I ready for that? Ready for a boyfriend?

Get over yourself, Prentiss. He asked for a fantasy, not a commitment.

Round and round my thoughts went until finally I got back to my room, heart racing and cock half hard before I’d even texted him. I changed into some pajama bottoms and climbed into bed before typing out a message with shaking fingers.

Home finally.

He didn’t answer immediately. Shit. What if I’d worked myself up and he’d fallen asleep? Asking a guy to wait up for me was a dick move. I knew he was an early riser. I used to be too, before my job at Tracks demanded otherwise.

Yesss. I’m awake, barely.

My heart sank. If you want to do this another time, it’s cool.

Are you insane? I’ve had a hard-on for four hours.

I snorted, some of my tension easing at his words. He still wanted this, then. Still wanted me. Fuck knew why. I wasn’t sure what a bi-curious, cautious, guarded guy could really offer someone as sweet as HotPan. He’d never poked and prodded me about my sexuality or determining what I really wanted.

Sounds like you need medical attention, I joked, stalling for time. I wanted this, but I was also nervous.

I might have exaggerated a little,he admitted,but I do need some attention.

So,he added when I took too long to respond, are you going to share a fantasy with me? I really want to know what you like.

I want to know too…

That was a joke, btw,I added.

Just pretend I’m there with you. What’s your first move?

Oh, crap. Now I was in the hot seat. My cheeks flamed even though he couldn’t see me. I considered the thoughts that had been flitting through my mind, the thoughts that had led me to this app in the first place. I couldn’t lead with the kissing thing. That would make me feel like a sappy idiot. So, I considered what I liked about the idea of being with another guy. The images that popped into my head occasionally.

It sounds dumb to write it out, but I just want to feel another man’s body against mine. I keep thinking about how hard it would be.

Do you want this man to pin you down? Overpower you?

He can try. And then I can do the same to him.

A wrestling match? Nice. Tell me more.

I want to touch him. Know what it’s like to hold another cock in my hand. Hear a deep groan when I stroke him.

I’d love for you to stroke me. I’ve got my cock out right now.

My heart sped up.

He continued. Are you touching yourself?

I glanced down at my hand inside my pajama pants, squeezing my cock. Fuck. Yes.

My cock is seven inches, slender. It feels soft in my hand, but when I squeeze, I’m hard as steel. You made me that way. Your words.

My breath rasped harshly as I worked myself.

Here’s a picture of what you do to me.

My breath caught in my throat. There was an attachment. I hesitated to open it. Will I recognize you?

Only if you’ve seen my cock before.

I clicked the image, and a large cock filled my screen. A hand held it at the base, pointing it toward the camera. Long and slender, just like he’d said. It was flushed a deep red and beaded with moisture at the tip.

This was somehow different from all those other dick pics I’d gotten unsolicited. This was part of an exchange, a flow of sexy talk and stimulus back and forth. I gazed at HotPan’s cock with a fascination I hadn’t felt for any random pics I’d seen. I was interested because it was him.

I licked my dry lips. Nice

Want to show me yours?

Heart hammering, I navigated to my camera app. Shoving down my pajama bottoms, I pulled out my cock and took a quick snap. I sent it without looking at it, before I could change my mind. There was a long moment of silence between us. My heart raced the entire time, my cock still hard and throbbing in my hand. I forced myself not to finish until he was talking to me again.

Jesus Christ, I want that in my mouth.

I groaned, fisting my cock again. Pumping. Imagining the scene he was setting with his words.

There’s no place I love to be more than on my knees. I’d suck you, and then I’d come with the taste of your cum still on my tongue.

That was it. My body arched, and I came hard in my hand.

I shuddered and shook through it, overwhelmed for a few minutes by the blinding pleasure. There was something powerful about knowing that I came to a man’s words. Even if he wasn’t really in this room with me, he’d still been calling the plays. Even if I couldn’t see anything but his dick pic, he’d made me imagine a man on his knees and a generous, hot mouth sucking me hard.

You okay?Too much?

I caught my breath and finally returned his message.

Yeah, it was too much. You made me come all over myself.

Pic?

What the hell? I’d already showed him my dick, right? I angled my camera and sent over the shot of my cum smeared over my lower belly.

When he replied, all he said was, Fuck, you got me all messy too.

Even after all that we’d shared, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for another pic. It felt like too much. My head was spinning. A screen might have separated us, but I’d gotten off with a man for the first time. That had really happened.

I think I’m going to call it a night,I said, too wrung out for more.

You’re okay, though? With everything?

I’m okay.I hesitated. It was a lot though. I need to process.

Okay, goodnight then. I’m pretty sure I’m going to sleep great after that.

I laughed, feeling lighter. He wasn’t making it weird. He wasn’t pushing. I liked that about him. He took what I offered, and he asked for things he wanted, but he accepted my answers. If I hadn’t wanted to pursue this tonight, he would have backed off.

But I was glad I’d done it.

There was no question now. I wanted to explore this side of me. I wanted to experience the things I’d shared with him.

A hard body against mine. Strength to match my own. The heft and weight of a hard cock in my hand. And now, thanks to him, I wanted a man on his knees, sucking me down.