"Dude, do you wanna go sit in the jacuzzi?" Eric asked his best friend Jamie as the boys stood at the kitchen island finishing their fourth beer of the night.
The two 21-year olds had spent the evening together at Eric's parent's house watching the high-stakes game 7 on the large flat screen that spanned an entire wall of the family room. Neither of their teams were still in it—the matchup was simply a good one and they bet small amounts of money back and forth on stupid things as the game went along. When you were a little tipsy and making gambles on who would be the next player to do a celebratory dance move after a basket, you had clearly moved into shark jumping territory.
But then, that's how they usually spent their time together. They'd been friends since elementary school and grew up in the same small neighborhood. They saw each other during college break.
On this particularly trip home, Eric's parents were taking a June cruise on the Danube and so the boys would often end up at the big empty Craftsman at the end of their lazy summer nights. They'd spend the day and afternoon at the nearest townie dive bar or at the nearby lake where old high school friends were constantly bumped into and reminisced with. There were the girls developing into their late teen bikini's and local college kids getting high and tanning.
They'd struck out earlier at one particularly pool hall with a couple of girls who were a couple of years younger than them but they'd remembered from high school—sophomores to their seniors. After too much booze had been the thief of their possible hijinks, they made sure the girls got into a Lyft and home safely, and then they called another car to take them back to Eric's house.
Now they'd watched some sports and improved their own inebriated happiness and the jacuzzi sounded like a brilliant idea in the warm summer-night air.
"I don't have a suit though," Jamie realized as Eric headed towards his bedroom and beckoned his friend along.
"No worries, I've probably got something you can wear." Eric assured him, and they headed up the stairs to search through Eric's drawers.
Due to a recent yard sale, Eric didn't have the extra trunks he thought he might have. There was his own pair of board shorts and nothing else really.
"Well crap...I thought I had some extra swim trunks...looks like we sold my old ones at the yard sale."
"Who the hell buys old swim trunks at a yard sale?" Jamie asked, a little tipsy as he hiccupped at his friend. The alcohol felt good coursing through his blood and he smiled at the thought of someone wearing some old, stretched out swim trunks from a yard sale.
"What's so weird about that? Not everyone is made of money young man!" Eric joked, admonishing his friend in mock parental tone.
"Oh, that doesn't bug me at all," Jamie continued the convo, "I just don't wanna have some dude's old ball sweat on my dick. No thanks, man." They boys both laughed at this.
"You do realize you can just wash them, right?" Eric said.
"Dude...some ball sweat just never washes off...that's just the way of the world." Jamie said almost philosophically now.
"Ahhhh yes, the immeasurable lifespan of ball sweat." Eric said cheekily.
"I honestly wonder how we don't have girlfriend's right now."
"Seriously, it's a damn mystery, my friend."
They both chuckled at that and Eric suddenly pulled out an unopened box of white jock straps.
"Hey man, what about one of these? I got them for varsity baseball and then never ended up using them because we accidentally bought the ones that didn't have the pouch for the cup." Eric tossed the box to Jamie and he looked at them with a cocked eyebrow. The box was indeed, unopened, with three clean pair inside.
It'd be a little weird to wear a jockstrap in front of his friend he thought, but the alternative wasn't any better. "I guess my only other options would be naked or to wear my boxers and I have to fucking sleep in those tonight because I'm definitely not driving home at this point so..." Jamie was still mulling over his options in his head.
"You could wear a pair of my boxers if you want, but then again, I guess you've established how you feel about another guy's ball sweat touching you," they both laughed at that again.
"Looks like we have a winner!" Jamie said as he ripped open the package and grabbed a pair.
"You can use the bathroom to change if you want...I'm gonna go grab us a couple more beers and change in the downstairs one, meet you in like two."
The boys quickly got undressed and changed into their swimwear.
Eric wore his small, navy blue board shorts that came up to the middle of his muscled thighs and tied with a light brown drawstring that matched his sandy mop of never fully organized hair.
Jamie meanwhile changed into the jock strap and if he hadn't been slightly drunk, he would've never left that upstairs bathroom. As he looked at his body in the mirror he cracked up. He was a good looking guy in very good shape, but the jock strap made him look like he had stepped out of a gay porn photo shoot. The briefs were tight on him and held his package on full display. The white knit patch was comfortable though confined and ended in two simple straps that ran just under Jamie's ass cheeks, which were fully exposed in the back. The polyester spandex material was designed for peak performance and movement and the wide belt had a red, white, and blue threading which spoke to a patriotic sports theme that these accessories tended to carry.
"Welp, fuck it," Jamie said as he laughed at himself one more time in the mirror and came back downstairs into the kitchen where Eric was waiting in his board shorts.
He laughed so hard when he saw Jamie approach that beer shot out of his nose.
"OHMYGOKGHD!" Eric chortled, as he mercilessly teased his friend when he reappeared in the tiny sports underwear.
"Shut the fuck up and give me my damn beer!" Jamie laughed. They were both used to ribbing each other. There was no real offense taken. Also, they were drunk, so their night was already expected to include as many verbal jabs as could be expected between long-time friends.
They grabbed some towels and headed out to the fancy spa installed on the far corner of the house's backyard deck, which Eric had previously turned on full power as the water heated up impressively fast.
The boys cracked their beers on the surrounded deck's edge. The spa itself had been designed to sit mostly into the actual deck making the floor of the structure closer to the spa itself.
They sunk into the marvelously therapeutic water and immediately enjoyed the feeling of the days stress drifting away into the bubbles. Eric leaned over to a control panel and turned on the lights and jets and they cracked open their fifth bottles of the night and enjoyed all of the freedoms that summer had to offer.
The spa was an eight person set up with a couple of two person benches and four carved out corner spots for deeper lounging. There were nearby cup-holders and a control panel for the inset music system. They put on whatever FM top forties station had previously been set and relaxed as they felt the breeze dance across their faces in conjunction with the bubbles jetting across their legs and backs. This was just what the doctor ordered. Summertime, and as the song would confirm while they soaked into oblivion, the living was indeed, easy.
They sat catty-corner from each other as they stretched out in long diagonals and enjoyed their buzz.
