GOLDEN BOY, BAD BOY

DREAMS, DESKS AND DIRTY THOUGHTSHis hands were everywhere and his kisses were like fire, burning with passion. Blake ran his hands over Ethan's body before pushing him hard, pinning him against the locker. The cold, metal surface bit at Ethan's skin through his shirt but he didn't mind it. He wanted to push Blake away, but the quarterback's arms were strong, holding him in place. Before he could react, Blake's tongue was already entwined with his, his right hand moving from his neck to his hair. “You like this?" Blake muttered under his quickened breath as he shoved his other hand under Ethan's shirt, pinching his nipples. Ethan gasped as he pulled Blake's head back, soft moans escaping his lips. “Shut up,” he whispered, voice trembling. His body betrayed him - hips shifting forward, hands finding Blake’s waist.Ethan could feel the jock's toned body under his hoodie and he wanted so much to run his hands over the chiseled muscles, feeling every curve. Blake chuckled softly, pulli

THE TASTE OF REGRETThe house carried the strong smell of beer–one that Ethan knew too well. It mixed with the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to the couch cushions and curtains, welcoming him as he opened the door. Coughing, he pushed through the ash cloud as he prayed his brother was already passed out. “Yo, genius." Another prayer unanswered. "Hey… come here.”Ethan muttered a curse under his breath, halting halfway down the hallway. Sucking air through clenched teeth, he turned to his brother. Jack Sanders laid sprawled across the couch, one hand holding a half-empty beer bottle, the other clutching loosely the TV remote. Cold pizza littered the coffee table before him and the TV buzzed with the sports channel, flickering blue light across the room. “Why you sneaking into the house?" Jake slurred slightly, squinting at Ethan. “You steal something? Are you past your curfew? Shit, is it past nine already?" “I'm not sneaking,” Ethan mumbled, adjusting the strap of his

THE HOUSE DOWN THE STREETThe glass door slid shut behind Ethan as he stepped into Tom's lawn. Thin sprinklers scattered lazily across the grass sent arcs of water glistening in the late afternoon sunlight, and the air held a faint smell of wet grass and mud. Somewhere over one of the fences, a dog barked once before settling into a low growl. Behind them, Tom's house thudded with the low pulse of bass-heavy metal music. It wasn't loud enough to be distracting, but its low boom rattled the walls and shook the wooden porch beneath them. Actually… the place was quieter than Ethan expected.“Your home’s silent today," Ethan said to Tom as he swung his bag from his shoulder and dropped it to the floor. "Frank isn't in?”“He is," Tom answered with a sigh. “I guess he's just sleeping." Ethan nodded. That explained the low music. Leaning forward, Tom placed his arm on the table and ran it across the surface, sweeping off the rain-plastered leaves to the floor. He was about to drop his bo

STEAM AND STATICEthan stood still as the sound of Tom's receding footsteps faded down the hallway. He cursed under his breath, his heart thudding loudly in his chest as he slowly turned back to the room. “Yeah…” he muttered, shaking his head. "Maybe, I should just wait outside.”He turned, ready to start walking but his body remained frozen in place. "...or maybe…”He turned again to the room, standing just inside the doorway as his fingers slowly curled loosely at his sides. Biting the inside of his cheeks, he moved his gaze slowly across the space, taking everything in. He really was standing before Blake's room–THE Blake. A single huff of a laugh slipped past his lips as he stepped further in. The place wasn't the version people imagined. It didn't carry the loud, reckless, careless image the quarterback held around the school either. It was somewhat… in-between–messy and controlled, but not entirely. A varsity jacket lay crumpled behind a chair and a pair of Jordans were ki

EYES UP HEREFor a long moment, nobody said anything. Ethan remained standing by the doorway, his chest tight and palms damp in his pocket. Tom, enjoying the scene before him, sprawled halfway across the bed, hands tucked under his head. And Blake… he just stood at the center of the room in nothing but a towel that barely concealed the outline of his crotch as his cold eyes remained on Ethan. “…Why is he here?” he asked without looking at Tom. Tom sat up straight, glancing between the both of them like he was watching a show. “Ethan?" he said casually. “He's with me." “With you?” Blake repeated, voice low.“Yeah,” Tom shrugged. “Thought it’d be easier if we both handled the assignment together.”Blake didn't reply to that. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the floor by the door where Ethan's bag sar. He raised a hand, pointing to it as he turned back to Ethan.“Is that yours?" he asked, voice dangerously calm. Ethan, managing to tear his eyes from the monster dangling behind the t