Old Hags and Heartburn

 

“Why should she ever find out?” Drew asked. “Why should anybody?”

Emmett raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s the truth?”

“The truth is I have nothing to gain and everything to lose,” Drew replied. “You see, I’m an industry. Drew Boyd, Inc. Hundreds of people make millions off of me. Do you have any idea what would happen if this got out? I’d lose my friends, my teammates, my fans,” he plucked at the waistband of his designer briefs, “my endorsements. But worst of all I’d lose the thing I love the most. Football.”

Emmett felt his heartbreaking and he couldn’t listen to anymore. He stood on shaking legs and forced himself to keep it together long enough to make it to the door.

Drew grabbed his arm. “Emmett--”

Emmett shook him off. “Don’t touch me.”

“Emmett, wake up.”

Emmett swatted at the hand on his arm, twisting away.

“Dammit, Emmett,” Drew scowled, yanking the blankets down and slapping Emmett’s bare ass.

Emmett yelped and flipped on his back, arms flailing defensively. “What?!”

“You tell me,” Drew sighed, swinging his legs over the bed. “You were dreaming,” he said as he rolled his shoulders.

“Oh, sorry,” Emmett replied contritely, rubbing his knitted brow. He moved behind Drew, carefully massaging Drew’s neck and placing a light kiss on the scar that ended Drew’s football career. “Did you sleep alright?” he asked, noticing the bottle of muscle relaxants on the night stand.

“Fine, until you kicked me.”

“Sorry, baby.” Emmett wrapped his arms around Drew’s neck and nuzzled his ear. “It’s still early, lay down with me.”

Drew rubbed Emmett’s arm under his chin before gently disentangling them. “Can’t. You go back to sleep and I’ll wake you up when I leave.”

He picked up the pill bottle, but Emmett took it from him with a long line of nibbles along his jaw. “Let’s take a shower instead,” he suggested, “guaranteed to work out any kinks.”

Drew scrubbed his hand over his face before he nodded and let Emmett put the pills in the drawer. But he insisted Emmett go back to sleep instead of getting up with him.

Emmett ignored him and led the way to the bathroom, hips swishing. “We have time to soak in the whirlpool if you think that’ll help more.”

Drew didn’t miss Emmett’s frown when he looked back at their bed though and he caught Emmett’s elbow as he tried to slip by. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about,” Emmett replied too quickly.

“You were pissed at me.”

“You in the dream, not you,” Emmett clarified. “It wasn’t real.”

“But obviously I wasn’t on a 40 story billboard in my underwear this time. You woke up sucking me off then, not trying to kick my ass.”

Emmett smiled slyly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That billboard was hot. If I’d met you the quarterback before you the councilman, I definitely would’ve had Brian put you in one of his underwear ads. Just so the rest of the world could eat their hearts out.” He cocked his head, finger tapping his lips. “Though you may get more votes with--”

“Don’t even think about it,” Drew growled. He adjusted the shower taps and tested the temperature before turning to the toilet to piss. “Brian already got his pound of flesh from the last campaign. Literally.”

Emmett snickered. “I don’t know what your problem is with showing a little sk--”

“And don’t change the subject. Tell me about your dream,” Drew demanded.

Emmett stepped into the shower, gasping as the hot water pounded his chest. “We met at a party I was catering.”

“Uh-huh. Sounds familiar,” Drew prompted, surreptitiously checking his hairline in the mirror above the sink before sliding under the water next to Emmett and shutting the glass door.

“No, it wasn’t your fundraiser at the GLC,” Emmett said, lathering the soap in his hands, “you were still quarterback for the Iron Men and it was your engagement party. To that perky blonde bimbo.”

Drew blinked at him.

“You obviously weren’t out yet,” Emmett told him, hardly containing his discomfort at trying to remember the details, “and we had a secret affair, fucking at some sleazy hotel out on the highway, until I asked you to tell her about us and you decided your football career was more important. Not her. Your career. If you came out--”

“I get it,” Drew huffed.

“Do you?” Emmett’s eyes bore into him. He handed Drew the bar instead of soaping him up too. “If we met before your career ended, would you have chosen football over me?”

Drew shook his head. “What’s this really about?” he challenged. “You still think I have any interest in that woman—Christ, I don’t even remember her name!”

“Sierra.”

“So she turned up at the party last night. I have a lot of former girlfriends, Sport. But I haven’t seen or talked to her in years. Hell, I only dated her, any of them, for a while because I was still in the closet then. You know that.”

Emmett turned his back on Drew, rinsing the soap off his chest. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, thrusting his head under the spray too.

Drew beat his fist on the wall in frustration before he started counting to te—two and grabbed Emmett around the waist, yanking him back against his chest. “And I know you,” he snarled. “Choosing between you and football never would’ve been an issue. You’ve never been in the closet and you never would’ve given me a chance when you found out I was.” He turned Emmett around, cupping his face. “I’m damn lucky I didn’t meet you until I got my head out of my ass or I would’ve lost the best thing in my life and never even known it. You know that.” He kissed Emmett hard on the lips. “You remind me enough.”

Emmett wrapped his arms around Drew and pressed their foreheads together. “I just don’t want you to forget. The dream felt so re--”

Drew grabbed Emmett’s ass and ground their hips together. “How does that feel?”

“Very real,” Emmett moaned.

 

***
 

The red silk sheets were almost black where the water soaked in from their bodies. Emmett leaned over and licked at the drops pooling in Drew’s throat. He nipped along the clavicle, biting hard into the thick shoulder when Drew shifted, pushing deeper inside.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunted, fingers sliding over Drew’s lips and cheek, mouth following, hot and hungry. He buried his hands in Drew’s hair, holding him still to fuck him back, tongue darting slick and fast between sucking lips.

Drew in turn held his hips, push pull, up down, fast and hard. One hand wormed between them and held Emmett’s cock against Drew’s belly, trapped flat, aching for the sticky rough glide of Drew’s thumb against the head with each thrust.

“Love your ass,” Drew growled, slapping hard at a pale buttock.

“Yes!” Emmett cried, “Fuck me! Harder!”

Drew jabbed at him mercilessly, another slap accompanying each thrust until he shoved Emmett down hard, fully impaled, and big hands left deep bruises along Emmett’s hips as he came.

The hot rush inside, rough squeeze of his sore ass, and another squeeze around his cock, made Emmett whimper and rut against Drew. His knees were raw from rubbing on the damp sheets and he tried to slide up, groaning as Drew slipped out of him. Crawling up, pulling himself up with the headboard, he felt Drew’s warm wet lips around is cock-- fuck, so hot--and the wall at the top of the bed was cool as he leaned against it, pumping in and out.

Drew’s fingers were teasing, behind his balls, in his ass, stretched and full again.

Fingers in Drew’s hair again, petting, stroking, desperate. “Please, please…”

Emmett’s legs were splitting open, impossibly wider as he sunk without any control. Deep into tight muscles swallowing him. Milking him as he came.

“Oh god,” Emmett moaned, falling pitifully limp beside Drew. His legs were quivering like jello, signifying he would be feeling that stretch for a long time.

Drew took Emmett’s hand and kissed the gold band on his finger before letting their hands fall intertwined on his chest. “Never wanted anyone else,” he said.

Emmett yawned, settling against him. “I know. The cheese platter always gives me nightmares. You up now?”

“Yeah,” Drew grumbled, fighting off the urge to fall asleep again. Or maybe he could just reschedule the meeting. But he’d still have to get up. Move Emmett.

He turned his head and saw Emmett’s eyes flutter shut. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered, leaving him there.

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