The Mouse Trap

Jake pulled on the number 6 jersey, the changing room was abuzz with excited chatter, and the noise of the players getting ready. First game of the season, first game for this new look team. He was nervous about Ryan's presence, nervous and not a little embarrassed.

Ryan sat on the bench, leaning back like he owned the place, smirking at something one of the guys had said. He hadn't yet even looked at Jake, and that somehow made it worse. Jake still felt his closeness. The memory of Ryan's hands, his mouth, his breath against his skin, hot and urgent; flashed through Jake's mind. He needed to banish those thoughts and get his head in the game ahead.

Jake swallowed, forcing himself to act normally. He was nervous, unlacing his boots, focusing on his hands which were shaking. Maybe if he just kept his head down, he could get through this without doing something stupid. This was his first game for the team, a rare appearance for a freshman in the first team, he wasn't sure that he was ready, good enough to be here, but his nerves came from something else.

He felt like his teammates would somehow know what had happened the night before. That he or Jake would do something to give the game away. He had a secret, he didn't want anyone to know.

"Yo, Jake, you good?" Tom, the team's left-back, clapped him on the shoulder.

Jake flinched. "Yeah. Just didn't sleep much." Not a lie.

"Too busy with some girl, huh?" One of the other guys, Mason, waggled his eyebrows. "Or was it your right hand keeping you up?"

The room erupted into laughter. Jake forced a chuckle, but his stomach churned.

If only they knew.

If they knew that the last person he'd touched--been touched by--was Ryan. Jake was straight, no-nonsense, "likes girls". They'd never let him live it down.

And then there was Ryan.

Jake risked a glance across the room. Ryan was watching him. Just for a second too long, making Jake's skin tingle. Then he smirked, just a hint of one, barely there and turned back to his laces.

Heat crawled up Jake's neck. He yanked his jersey on, grabbed his shin pads, and stood so fast his head caught Tom's elbow.

He needed to get out onto the field. Away from this room, get some fresh air, away from Ryan's knowing eyes.

Once he was on the pitch, his nerves settled and the game went well.

Back in the changing room, Jake was still buzzing, his muscles aching but alive with adrenaline. His first real match with the team, and he'd played well, better than anyone, including him, had expected. Two assists, both to Ryan, who had finished them with the kind of precision that made him the star striker everyone raved about.

The team energy was electric. Music blasted from someone's speaker, boots thumped against the floor, and the guys were celebrating their win with loud, sweaty enthusiasm.

Jake peeled off his shirt, trying to blend in, but he couldn't ignore the way Ryan was watching him from across the room, towel slung over his shoulder, hair still damp. That sharp, cocky grin was firmly in place.

"Well, well, well," Ryan drawled, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Looks like we've got ourselves a new playmaker, boys."

A couple of the guys cheered, clapping Jake on the back, and he forced a grin, mumbling a quick "thanks."

But Ryan wasn't done.

"Two assists on my goals, both perfectly placed." His voice had a deliberate edge to it, smooth but teasing. "Gotta say, Jake, you really know how to set a guy up."

Laughter rippled through the room. Mason, ever the joker, smirked. "Careful, Ryan, sounds like you're about to propose."

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm just saying, it's rare to find someone who knows exactly how I like it. Tight passes, clean finishes... couldn't have done it without him."

Jake felt his stomach tighten.

It was harmless to everyone else, just Ryan being Ryan, typically cocky and playful. But Jake knew better. He could feel the weight behind Ryan's words, the memory of last night still lingering in his head, under his skin.

Ryan caught his eye, just for a second, just enough for Jake to see the glint of amusement there. He was enjoying this.

Jake forced out a laugh, shoving his boots into his bag with more force than necessary. "Yeah, well, someone had to make you look good."

The guys roared in appreciation, and for a moment, it felt safe again. Just banter. Just football.

But as the team moved on, celebrating, joking, already reliving the match, Jake could still feel Ryan's eyes on him. Watching. Scheming

And Jake hated how much the anticipation excited him.

It was a long 3 hour coach journey back from the match. The excitement from the win had faded into a comfortable lull. Some of the guys were already half-asleep, slouched in their seats with headphones in, while others were playing cards entertaining themselves as the miles rolled by.

Jake had taken a window seat near the middle of the bus, hoping for some space, a chance to clear his head. But his luck ran out when Ryan slid into the seat beside him, dropping down with an easy grin.

"Looks like we're seat buddies," Ryan said, stretching his legs out in the narrow aisle.

Jake stiffened, glancing around. No one seemed to care, but he did. Sitting this close, side by side, in the dim hush of the coach, it felt too intimate, too dangerous.

"You could've sat in one of the empty rows, or with Mason," Jake muttered, keeping his voice low.

Ryan smirked. "Yeah, but he doesn't set me up as well as you do."

Jake huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You're really milking those innuendos, huh?"

Ryan leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down Jake's spine. "I just know how to appreciate good service."

Jake swallowed hard and looked out the window, the dark countryside rolling past. He told himself it was nothing. Just Ryan enjoying his embarrassment, being flirty, pushing his buttons. But then Ryan shifted, his knee brushing against Jake's. He didn't move it away.

The air between them changed.

Ryan stretched his arms behind his head, his elbow just barely grazing Jake's shoulder. Subtle. Not enough to draw attention, but enough for Jake to feel it. And then, lower, Ryan's fingers drifted, slowly and deliberately, to the side of Jake's thigh, the lightest touch through his tracksuit.

Jake tensed, breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded so hard he was sure Ryan could hear it.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, keeping his gaze locked on the seat in front of him.

Ryan's voice was maddeningly casual. "Relax, man. Just getting comfortable."

His fingers didn't move away.

Jake's pulse soared. He should shove Ryan's hand off. Tell him to knock it off. But he didn't want to make a scene and draw attention to them, besides that, his body was reacting to its own agenda. His skin burned where Ryan touched him, his stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with something he wasn't ready to admit.

Ryan exhaled a quiet chuckle. "Still think you're straight?"

Jake's breath caught. He turned his head, finally meeting Ryan's eyes. In the low light of the coach, they were unreadable.

He didn't answer. Couldn't.

In that moment, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Ryan moved his hand onto Jake's knee.

"I need to take care of this right leg, its going to set me up with lots of opportunities this year", with that comment Ryan started to massage Jakes lower thigh, squeezing firmly.

The transition from light touches to the firmness of the grip sent a twinge up Jake's leg to his groin, which was now starting to respond.

Jake pulled his coat over his lap, in case prying eyes saw this more obvious encounter. He turned to Ryan, and with a distinct lack of firmness in his voice, half whispered, half croaked, "Please not here"

Ryan said nothing, but the firm grip, now under cover, worked slowly but surely up Jake's thigh. Massaging as it went.

Jake let out an involuntary gasp, too quiet for anybody but Ryan to hear.

"If you wanted me to stop, you wouldn't make it so easy for me. Why don't you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, that seems to satisfy your crumbling straight distorted bias, remember?" Ryan teased. By which time the back of his hand had reached the top of Jake's thigh and was deliberately brushing up against his now vey rigid cock.

Tracksuit bottoms offer very little resistance to wandering hands, and beneath the cover of Jake's protective coat, Ryan slipped his hand inside the waist band, under his boxers and took Jakes manhood firmly in hand.

Jakes pretence of resistance had melted away. His nervousness of being caught diminished, his head flopped back against the headrest. To anyone looking-on he could be sleeping, but he was very awake to the arousal of the hand that was now stroking him.

It gripped his cock firmly, with an occasional thumb rolling over his tip, the source of a lot of pre-cum, and sending shockwaves to his inner core. In an embarrassingly short time he could feel an orgasm welling up in his balls. He desperately wanted to release, but would he be able to contain the noise, and hide the mess. The yearning to release was too strong to resist, so he let the orgasm build.

Ryan sensed the impending climax and withdrew his hand, whispering in Jake's ear "when did a girl last get you so excited so quickly straight boy, and I'm not letting you cum, not yet"

With that Ryan stood and moved down the coach to join a conversation at the back.

Jake was left hard, wet and unfulfilled. He sat back and let his excitement wain. What was it about Ryan that made his pulse race, his resistance fail and could seduce him into taking such risks in front of his unsuspecting new team mates.

It was a long 45 minutes of confusion, alone with his thoughts and shrinking arousal before the coach pulled into the car park of the university sports hall. Time to alight and head home. As Jake pulled his things together, Ryan leaned over his seat and whispered in his ear "9 Richmond Road, be that at 11pm, shower before you come"

Before Jake could respond, Ryan was off the bus and gone.

What a ridiculous suggestion, he had barely slept the night before, played a tough game of football, and needed to be in lectures at 9am the next day, there was no way he was heading over to Ryan's late at night.

With his kit and bags all sorted, he walked back to the house he shared with friends from his course. When he arrived they all wanted a beer and to hear about how his first game had gone, had he played well? Were his team mates friendly? Did they win?

Jake drank the beer and answered the barrage of questions, but his mind was somewhere else. How could Ryan be so cocky, what made him think for a minute that he would just drop everything and turn up at Ryan's call. He needed a shower, and he was tired, he needed to get a good nights sleep, he excused himself from the company of his house mates.

Stripping for the shower Jake saw the mess that was in his briefs. If Ryan had not stopped it would have been far worse. He was still frustrated from being so close but not reaching orgasm. His mind wandered to the risky hand job on the coach. How did Ryan get him to that point so quickly. Naked in the shower he relived the build up, the firm hand on his thigh, the excitement he had felt when Ryan's fingers closed around his firm cock. The urge to cum. He was stroking himself, soap bubbles helping to lubricate, he needed to cum. He remembered taking Ryan's cock in his mouth the night before, how rough he had been and how fantastic the feeling of his own ass being stretched by Ryan's great cock, he wanting more. He was close to cumming with the warm water of the shower adding to his heighted senses. For the second time that night, his orgasm was denied.

Instead of wrapping himself in his night clothes and finding his warm inviting bed, and getting the sleep he needed, he found himself in his tightest jeans, and skinny tee shirt walking through Catthays, to Richmond Road.

Something deep inside was guiding his actions, and he was marching through the darkness with urgency, like he was on a mission. 10:50pm, 2 doors away from number 9, he slowed. Second thoughts and doubts filled his mind. What was he doing, if he goes in that house he would have chosen to meet with a man he knew to be gay, who was certainly planning to have sex with him, even if he put up resistance. He was effectively choosing to have sex with a man. Up until now he had been the passenger, guilty of being passive, of not choosing to resist, or not effectively resist. This was different, this was electing to have a sex date with a man.

A tall, strong, blonde god of a man, with a gorgeous big cock, a fabulous body, that could unlock feelings inside him that he had never come close to feeling with anybody else.

His mind was urging him to turn back, go home, sleep. Put an end to this madness with Ryan, it was a mistake, he could put it behind him and bury those feelings deep inside. His body however, yearned for the excitement, needed more, wanted to feel it again, feel more, experiment with these feelings and desires.

He plucked up the courage and knocked on the door, gripped with fear, anticipation and excitement, and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually light appeared from inside and someone came to the door. To Jakes disappointment it wasn't Ryan, an effeminate guy answered, and looked at him blankly. Jake observed this boy was wearing eye liner and deep red lipstick, he thrust his chest forward, like a girl might to show-off her breasts, but it was clear through his figure hugging strappy vest top, there were no breasts. The boy looked him up and down, licking his lips,

"what can I do for you?", delivered with a smile and flickering eyelids, the double entendre was obvious, and deliberate. Could this be a wind-up? Was Ryan playing a big joke on him, sending him to the wrong house?

"Urr, I was looking for Ryan?" Jake's stuttering voice lifted in inflection to make his statement a question.

"Ryan, your latest 'groupy' is at the door, shall I tell him you are out?" the boy shouted into the building, Jake didn't hear the response but the boy turned back to him "It's your lucky night handsome, head up the stairs, second door on the right."

"Oh, and by the way, it's late, please try not to keep us all awake"

Jake blushed, confronted with the reality of his purpose for being here so late, and the obvious undertone that late night visitors to Ryan were not an uncommon occurrence and often a noisy nuisance.

His legs wobbled as he climbed the stairs, but he didn't want to be under the gaze of Ryan's housemates any longer than necessary, so he knocked on the second door on the right and disappeared inside without waiting for a response.

It was dimly lit inside and Jakes eyes took a few seconds to adjust. He saw Ryan sitting up, on top of his bed, wearing a light dressing gown, loosely, which had fallen open slightly. His chest was visible, but he was covered from the stomach down.

"Curiosity killed the cat, hey" Ryan teased.

Jake struggled to respond " I......I....."

Ryan finished his sentence, "Felt driven by a deep yearning, that whilst you would like to ignore, just keeps eating away inside your brain, refusing to go away, and powered your legs the 1 mile walk to get here, wouldn't let you back down when you were close and suffered the inevitable nerves and second thoughts" he smiled, Jake thought he could have been reading his mind, or maybe Ryan knew a lot about confused bi-curious first timers, it was probably his fetish

"Take off your clothes and come here"

Jake had spent some time deliberating over what to wear, and whether his underwear was sexy enough, now in the dim light he was being told to discard them, Ryan hadn't even paid them any attention.

Despite being somewhat aggrieved, he complied. Removing everything but his best tight boxers.

"Those too, get them off. Did you shower?"

Jake stripped naked, feeling suddenly vulnerable, "Yes" he responded

"Thoroughly?" Ryan pressed

Ryan could not see, but Jake blushed at the thoroughness of his washing, paying specific attention to his ass. It was clear he was intending to come here all along, he had prepared thoroughly.

"Yes Ryan"

"Good boy, come here" he said as he opened fully his dressing gown, revealing his impressive body, including his erection, which commanded Jake's attention and lured him to the bedside.

"You can start by giving me oral, but this time, you can take it at your pace", these words from Ryan settled Jake's nerves somewhat. Whilst his rough treatment by Ryan during oral the night before had excited Jake in a way he could not comprehend, his throat was still sore, and the choking sensation had panicked him, almost leading to him taking flight.

Jake kneeled between Ryan's thighs and took the firm cock in hand, lowered his lips and kissed the end. The taste of Ryan's pre-cum was familiar, and he lapped it up, paying particular attention to Ryan's slit to encourage more. He took the head into his mouth and sucked it, running his tongue underneath, as he had before, again eliciting the same groan response from Ryan.

He took the cock deeper, to the back of his mouth, where he paused. Unsure whether to push further, conscious of the lingering soreness, he sucked hard, and let the cock ride to the side of his mouth, making his cheek bulge. This was not going to be sufficient to get all of Ryan's cock inside, and Ryan was starting to buck his thighs. Jake took that as impatience, and encouragement to go further.

Jake relaxed, focused on breathing through his nose and pushed deeper. The cock passed into his throat, it was pliable and so could pass the restriction, but his throat was full. Jakes eyes streamed, and saliva dripped from his eager mouth.

He was determined to take it all, and persisted, but didn't rush. He found he could relax his breathing and subdue the gag reflex. Eventually he felt his nose against Ryan's pubis, and he had swallowed it all. Rocking back and forward he fucked Ryan with his mouth and throat slowly. Ryan responded with slight hip thrusting, but nothing like the punishment of last night.

Jake settled into a rhythm, revelling in the sensation of a cock passing deep into his throat. His breathing was steady, he rarely gagged, and his saliva flowed freely, coating not only Ryan's cock, but dripping down his chin and chest, and down over Ryan's impressive balls.

With his spare hand he rubbed behind Ryan's balls, and found his anus. Lubricated well by the saliva, Jakes finger buried easily into Ryan's ass, up to the first knuckle. Ryan flinched and pushed Jake off his cock. It was too early for an orgasm for either of them.

"Good boy" said Ryan, "you are a quick learner, I think you might just have one more natural talent you can add, it's a growing list, now sit on my cock and see if you are half as talented with that cute ass of yours"

Jake did not need a second invitation. He straddled Ryan's legs and manoeuvred himself into position. Ryan reached into a bedside drawer and pulled out a tube.

"I think you will need lube" he said, offering the tube to Jake. Jake smothered Ryan's cock, enjoying the sensation of it slipping through his hands. Then he squirted lube inside himself, feeling the slight cooling sensation within.

"My pace right" said Jake, "and no pulling out if you can't hold back" he teased.

"When I'm close, it wont be at your pace anymore. Now just fuck me, before I pin you on your back and take you my way, straight boy" Ryan snarled. He was not used to allowing his conquests to control the pace, he was more dominant by nature, this was a test in patience for him.

Jake lined Ryan's cock up with the puckered entrance to his ass and lowered himself. He was tight but lubricated Ryan's cock passed Jake's sphincter easily. Jake was still sore from the previous night, this added a different pain to the familiar smart of being stretched. Knowing the pain would soon pass, Jake lowered further taking the first few inches. Here he paused and lifted briefly. The head of Ryan's penis was rubbing his prostate, Jake allowed himself to play with the sensation.