Sweet Spot Ch. 02

"No, I think I'll switch to water, thanks."

Paul helped Andy transfer the food onto plates and they ate in silence for a while.

"I don't think my parents will be okay with it," Paul said eventually. "Probably not my older brother or my sister, either. My younger brother, maybe, but he'll never stand up to the rest of the family."

"So why tell them, then? Why not just live your life, and let the cards fall, where they may?"

"I met this guy on a business trip last year. Nate. He recognized me, had even been to what turned out to be my last professional game, and we hit it off. I wasn't positive he was gay, and I don't think he could really tell about me, either, but I liked him. Anyway, we finally figured things out, and we saw each other a couple of times. It didn't work out, but he said something that made me see what I was missing."

"What's that?"

"He said that he didn't want to be in a relationship, where it was a given that he'd never get to meet his lover's family or friends, or even hold hands with him in a movie. And the way he said it, it seemed like such a simple thing, you know, not much to ask for at all. And it just hit me, that I'd given up on all that, that it never even occurred to me that I could have somebody in my life to share stuff with, like my parents, sister and brothers do."

"You might still not find anybody, and you'll also have alienated your family." Andy hated himself for saying it, but it was true. Finding someone permanent wasn't a given, and he had 20 years' worth of proof.

"I know. But my family all have their own priorities, and at least I'll have given myself a fighting chance." Paul chewed his last bite thoughtfully. "I want them to know me. I want them to know who I am, whether they like it or not. I've always done what I have to do, what they've wanted me to do. I've been a good son, a good brother. Now I want to do what I want to do."

Andy watched him spell-bound, touched by the quiet certainty and pride in Paul's voice.

"For what it's worth, I think you're great," he said quietly, and Paul's smile blazed bright before he ducked his head again.

**********

Paul hadn't actually meant to reveal so much about himself, and certainly not so quickly. At first he'd been sure that history was repeating itself, that Andy would want the same kind of assurances that Nate had, and even though Paul was a little closer to being able to offer those assurances, he'd panicked at the thought of a deadline he wasn't ready for. Andy's understanding had been an unexpected gift, especially since overall he seemed a less considerate and understanding man than Nate. Then again, Nate had only expected of Paul the choice he'd made himself, whereas Andy had as much as said that he was ultimately relieved the choice had been made for him.

Andy was separating the trash from the recyclables, humming along with the radio, pausing every now and then to drink his second beer, and Paul felt a sense of deja-vu, as if he'd spent other nights sitting in this same chair, watching Andy clean up after a shared dinner. He felt like he could relax, just be at peace for a while.

Andy finally shoved the recycling bin back into the cabinet, dusted his hands, and then turned to smile at Paul. His hair had parted right down the middle and dried flat against his head and a cowlick was sticking up at the crown.

"You look like a blond Alfalfa," Paul smiled, and Andy's hand immediately flew up to pat his cowlick down and then sweep his hair to one side. "Guess that's not the first time you've heard that, huh?"

"I always wanted Greek hair instead of stupid Scandinavian hair," Andy said grumpily. "And Greek skin, too. But no. At the beach I was always the little dork covered with a hat, shirt and thick layers of sunscreen that my mom kept on reapplying every time I even looked at the water."

"Yeah, I never had that problem," Paul smiled complacently, then pulled his waistband down slightly in order to show off the contrast between tanned and untanned skin at his hip. "Do you know when I was five, a scout approached my mom because they wanted to put me in one of those Coppertone commercials? You know the ones, right, where the dog is pulling down the little kid's bathing suit? Of course, I've never really needed suntan lotion, except maybe the first couple of outings to the beach, so it would have been false advertising."

"Fucker," Andy growled and approached menacingly. "How would you like a wedgie? I bet it would work really well with those whitey-tighties you're wearing."

Paul might have been more worried if it weren't for the tent in Andy's shorts. Nevertheless, he got up in a hurry and backed away. And really, there was only one way to completely eliminate the risk of a wedgie, so Paul shoved his briefs down down his legs and kicked them out of reach.

Andy pointed at him. "You just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire, young man."

Paul decided that further retreat would only make him look like a coward, so he stood his ground and placed his fists on his hips. "Yeah?" he snarled, though it came out more like a giggle.

Next thing he knew, though he wasn't sure quite how it happened, he was slung over Andy's shoulder and they were moving fast. He held onto Andy's waistband with one hand to steady himself, although Andy had a pretty good grip on his bare butt, and onto his glasses with the other. Then he was sailing through the air, and he landed on the mattress, where he bounced once. He barely had time to take off his glasses and set them on the nightstand before approximately 185 lbs of growling man landed on him.

"Ow! Get off, you big lug."

Andy had trapped both of Paul's wrists over his head with one big hand, and now he propped himself up one elbow and cupped the top of Paul's head with his free hand, tangling his fingers in his hair and immobilizing him. Paul arched his back in an effort to throw him off, but Andy didn't budge. Paul struggled a bit more, but, reluctant to resort to the dirty tricks he'd used when wrestling with his brothers as they involved tender body parts, not really wanting to get free anyway, eventually gave up.

"You're always crushing me," he whined a bit breathlessly, looking up into Paul's laughing eyes.

"Yeah? Is that a complaint? Because I like having you under me, so I'll probably keep on doing it."

Andy dipped his head and gave Paul a quick kiss, then withdrew out of reach, when Paul tried to kiss him back.

"I like how your skin feels against mine." Kiss. "I liked how your nipples tightened into little pink peaks, when I was blowing you earlier." Kiss and a quick, tickling lick. "I liked the way your inner thighs felt against my face, and how you smelled." Lick. "And two weeks ago, in the hotel, I liked how you arched your back and spread your legs for me, so that I could see your hairy little hole." Wet, slow lick. "I liked how you eventually opened up for me, and the sounds you made when I was fucking you." Kiss.

"Fuck!" Paul gasped, and he strained upward again, ignoring the small pain from Andy tugging his hair, trying to capture Andy's mouth with his own.

"Most of all, I liked how my dick felt inside you, honey eyes. I liked how you squeezed me when you came, your beautiful dick spurting in my fist. I want that again."

"Me too, Andy!" Paul panted, lost in Andy's words and his voice and his touch, in the memories he was evoking. "Please!"

"But I can't decide now. Do I flip you over again? Or do I just lift your legs, push 'em back until you're folded in half, so that we can both watch me fucking you?"

"Oh, Jesus!" Paul writhed, rocking his hips up so that he could rub his cock against Andy. "Fuck!"

"How? What'll it be, honey eyes? Tell me."

"Like this. I want to watch."

Andy finally let Paul's wrists go, though he still kept hold of his hair, and kissed him deeply. His arms free, Paul wrapped them around Andy's back, pulling him harder against his body, still rocking his dick between both their bellies, on the verge of cumming.

"Yeah," Andy whispered harshly, his free hand forcing Paul's thigh up, then trapping it between his arm and his body, opening him up so that Paul could feel Andy's cock, slick with pre-cum, sliding damply along his crack. "Just like that, Paul. Just. Like. That."

Paul heard himself begging Andy to fuck him, and even in the middle of an orgasm that was causing every muscle in his body to spasm, he wondered how he could lose such complete control of himself, that he hadn't even realized he was speaking out loud. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to Andy as he rode out the final waves of his orgasm. He felt Andy shifting his weight, and he opened his eyes, but Andy wasn't going anywhere, just reaching for the lube and condoms.

"Let me," Paul said, and tore the small package open, as Andy, still holding onto Paul's leg, kneeled and sat back on his heels. Paul crunched up a bit to reach, and rolled the condom on, and then, remembering the pain of initial entry last time, lay flat again and lubed and stretched his own hole, while Andy watched with hot eyes.

Finally, Andy roughly pushed his hand away, and grabbing Paul's other leg, as well, pulled Paul's hips onto his thighs. "I can't wait any more, honey eyes."

"So don't. Fuck me, Andy."

The first slow thrust burned as it seemed to stretch Paul impossibly, and he took a deep breath, then released it as Andy partly withdrew.

"Okay?" Andy whispered and Paul nodded and reached out to pinch Andy's nipple. Andy's hips jerked in response, and Paul pinched him again.

"Naughty," Andy mumbled with a smile, and he rose from his heels, raising Paul's hips higher and folding him, as he'd said he would, until Paul's weight was resting on his upper back and shoulders.

"Can you see?"

Paul grunted an affirmative, his eyes glued to where their bodies were joined. He watched Andy's dick fuck his hole, and then he looked up into Andy's eyes, and reached up and cupped his cheek. Andy bent over awkwardly and kissed him slowly, almost tenderly, then straightened again and picked up the rhythm. Paul could tell by the way his eyes were starting to shut and by his breathing that Andy was about to come, and he clenched his hole deliberately, trying to make it even better for Andy. Andy cried out and he shoved hard into Paul once more, his final thrusts more reflex than deliberate. Afterward, he laid Paul's legs down on the bed and lay back on top of him, framed Paul's head with his big hands, and kissed him again. In a blissful daze, Paul returned the kisses and he hugged Andy against him.

"Can I crush you some more?" Andy asked after a while. "Maybe tomorrow? And the day after?"

His voice was teasing, but Paul thought he heard something else, as well, hope maybe, or affection, or maybe just pleasure in what they'd just done, and he was fine with any of those possibilities.

"Yeah," he responded gruffly, and Andy kissed him again, before finally rolling off and expertly getting rid of the condom by tying it up and scoring 3 points in the wastebasket clear across the room. Paul was sticky with drying sweat and semen, and he was half-hard again, but too sleepy for any further physical activity. He stretched his muscles, relishing the slight ache, and lay on his back, not thinking about much of anything, just feeling good.

"Hey, Paul?"

"Hmmm?"

"My alarm goes off at 7:30. Do you need it earlier?"

"No, 7:30 is fine," Paul answered, smiling up at the ceiling. He thought about turning onto his side, because he always snored when he slept on his back and his brothers had hated sharing a room with him, but he fell asleep before he had a chance to.