Feb 1, 2025
Do you know, I could break beneath the weight
Of the goodness, love, I still carry for you?
That I'd walk so far just to take
The injury of finally knowing you
Like A Prayer by @strangethings-everywhere and me (seasidesandstarscapes)
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Ireland
seen from China
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
seen from Brazil
seen from Spain
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Bosnia & Herzegovina
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Japan
Do you know, I could break beneath the weight
Of the goodness, love, I still carry for you?
That I'd walk so far just to take
The injury of finally knowing you
Like A Prayer by @strangethings-everywhere and me (seasidesandstarscapes)
George Mackay idea where reader is also an actor? Maybe they’re doing a promo tour together, or both at an awards show. Just ideas. I love what you’ve written already!
Here you go anon! I hope you like it!
It’s Golden Globes time and your movie is up for best film (drama) alongside 1917. Because of this, your table is next to the 1917 table and you’ve had to stare at George Mackay for the entire evening. Little did you know, he had also been mesmerized by you.
The entire promo season for your film had involved you and your castmates being asked questions about your ‘rival’ film 1917. Now that it was finally time for the Golden Globes and you weren’t prepared in any way to actually meet the film’s stars.
You definitely weren’t prepared to see them in suits.
You had been chatting with Florence Pugh, who you had starred alongside in Midsommar when George Mackay entered your line of sight with Dean-Charles Chapman in tow. You slowly began to drift out of the conversation, watching the two boys as they walked to the table right next to yours.
“Y/N? Are you alright?” Florence waved her hand in front of your face. “What are you…” She turned and followed your eyeline, smirking wickedly. “Oh. It’s George.”
“Florence!” You hissed. “Shut up!”
She let out a cackle. “Oh come on! You’ve had a crush on him since forever! Now’s your moment!”
“Yes, he’s absolutely going to want to talk to me after I stare at him for three hours. Great job, Florence.” You rolled your eyes.
“No, go talk to him!” Florence took your drink and shoved you towards where he was sitting, chatting with Dean and his director Sam Mendes.
Instead of listening to Florence, you quickly took your seat and struck up a conversation with one of your castmates. Out of the corner of your eye, you continued to watch George.
You had been following his promo tour, which had been happening at the same time as yours, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from the idea of him. Your twitter feed had been full of updates and photos about him and Dean and your tumblr (that no one knew about) was all about George and 1917. You found him captivating. It was as if he was a drug you just couldn’t seem to give up.
He was definitely handsome, a fact you couldn’t deny. He stood tall next to Dean, running a hand through his blond curls. You wished so desperately that just for a second his blue eyes would land on you, that he would smile because of something you had said.
Fear, however, made sure you stayed rooted to your seat with the people you felt comfortable with.
Florence kept texting you throughout the show, egging you on to talk to George or even Dean during the commercial breaks. You ignored her, rather focusing on either your food or your castmates.
“Excuse me? You’re Y/N Y/L/N right?”
You slowly looked up. Dean-Charles Chapman was standing in front of you, a mischevious look in his eye. “Yes… why?”
“Well, my friend George over there is a fan of yours and I was hoping, if it weren’t too much trouble, if we could take a picture with you?”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him. There was definitely some ulterior motive to this request and it was probably the reason that George had come over with him to ask. But you knew that you wouldn’t be able to say no. You took Dean’s outstretched hand and allowed him to lead you over to the 1917 table where George was sitting, sipping a glass of something.
“Oi, George. Stand up, straighten your tie.” Dean quipped, his smirk ever-growing as you got closer. George shot to his feet, almost dropping his drink as his hand flew to his tie. “This is-”
“Y/N Y/L/N.” You interrupted him, if not for your sake then for George’s. “I’ve seen 1917 maybe three times now and I’ve never been more stunned by a film. You did incredible.”
You shook hands with the poor Brit, surprised that you hadn’t fainted in his presence yet. His hands were rough, calloused, and yet warm and comforting. You had a sudden urge to lace your fingers with his.
“It’s a pleasure.” He smiled at you. “You were amazing in your film, positively blew me away. I’ve followed your entire promo tour.”
oh.
You couldn’t help the furious blush that enflamed your face. “I-I’ve done the same for you.”
Luckily, George began to blush. Hard. His blue eyes lit up, getting those happy smile lines around the corners. “Really?”
“Yeah, of course.” You couldn’t help but smile back at him.
George turned back towards his table, grabbing a napkin and a pen. He quickly scribbled something down on the napkin and held it out to you. You took it, your heart racing.
It was his number.
“If you aren’t leaving so soon, would you like to get together?” George asked as the music began to play.
“I’d love to.” You beamed up at him. “Good luck tonight George.” Gripping the napkin in your fist, you took your seat.
As the award show carried on, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. You also couldn’t keep your heart from beating a little faster than usual. No award could compare to the happiness you were feeling in this moment.
I hope you liked it!Also here’s the link to my masterlist! (finally)And I’m sorry if people have been waiting for a tagslist or something, I’ve not been keeping up with it. Please comment on any of my fics if you would like to be put in a tagslist of sorts and I’ll do my very best to make one. Much love!
Like a Prayer - Chapter 1
Summary: Don Hume is only a little nervous when he arrives at the shell house for his first day of rowing practice. All he has to do is say a prayer and work hard, and he'll get through it just fine. And then he meets Bobby Moch, and suddenly, Don can't stop thinking about him.
Chapter Rating: G-T
Genre: Modern AU, First Meetings, Getting Together, Falling in Love, Crisis of Faith, Religious Themes, Coming Out, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Team Dynamics
Words: 4602
C/W: Internalized Homophobia
A/N: I HOPE YALL ARE READY FOR THIS
@strangethings-everywhere and I were chatting, one thing led to another and this fic happened!!!
I haven’t written a fic with someone else in yearsss, but this has seriously been so much fun!!! Big ups to Anna for putting up with all my typos and my “he sat down because he wanted to sit” first drafts 😂
-
AO3
or
The sun was hot and Don was nervous. Granted, he was always nervous, but his anxiety had spiked to a new high since he moved into his dorm room that morning. As he stood in front of the shellhouse, gripping a duffel bag in one hand and his cross necklace in the other, he forced himself to take a deep breath. It was just college sports, the first big event of his college career, a way to make friends.
Oh god, making friends. He’d never been good at making friends.
The sun was hot, Don was nervous, and there were a lot of people in the shellhouse. Five minutes and a million deep breaths later, he finally worked up the courage to walk inside.
Don had done sports in high school, but he’d gone to a very small Christian school, the kind with only sixty kids in his graduating class. Playing football for a small school full of kids he’d known since preschool was a lot less terrifying than going to a massive state school with about 50,000 students (it totally wasn’t a big deal but he did look it up) and representing them in a sport. He’d been proud of himself at first; rowing was something he genuinely enjoyed and he was good at it, he really was. Don was good at putting all of himself into something, whether it was schoolwork, sports, or his daily devotionals. He worked hard and it paid off because somehow he made the JV boat as their stroke.
As he walked inside, he started to wonder if sports were a good idea.
“HEY!” The shout hit Don like a truck and he gripped the cross even harder. “ARE YOU HUME?” With another deep breath, he turned towards the sound.
The perpetrator had a grin that screamed trouble, blonde hair, and blue eyes that were full of mischief. He was a little shorter than Don, which wasn’t abnormal, and there was a confidence to him, something he seemed well aware of as he walked over in only shorts and a pair of dirty socks. “Are you Don Hume?”
“Y-Yeah.”
The stranger’s face brightened. “Awesome!” He turned to the gaggle of boys behind him. “GUYS! THE STROKE IS HERE!”
“Jesus Chuck, don’t scare him.”
“Oh shut up Johnny!” Chuck shot back. “You’re the last one to arrive, but no worries! We’ve all been excited to meet you, apparently Ulbrickson thinks you’re super talented or whatever. Well, that’s what Bobby says but he talks a lot of shit sometimes so who fucking knows. Did you just get to campus today? Isn’t Joe your roommate? He’s over here if you wanna meet him, or do you want your locker first? Probably your locker. Follow me!”
Don couldn’t find any words to reply as Chuck dragged him into the locker room by his arm. No one had ever welcomed him with such excitement before and it was… nice? Weird, but nice. Despite his nerves, it felt good to see his name plastered on a locker. Maybe it wouldn’t be as scary as he thought. Maybe Chuck would be a nice friend for him. Maybe he would be fine. His mouth was often stuck in a perpetual frown, but he smiled just a little as he opened the door and shoved his bag inside.
“Do you need to get changed?” Don shook his head. He’d been very thorough in figuring out exactly what he needed to wear. “Are… are you gonna wear your necklace the whole time?”
Don glanced down at the cross peeking out from his tank top. If he was honest, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken it off. It had been a gift for him when he got baptized and it had quickly turned into a comfort item, something to hold onto whenever he got nervous or to ground him when he felt like he needed to pray. Why would he take it off for practice? “Why?”
“Nothing, just… might be uncomfortable.” Chuck shrugged. “Ulbrickson and Bobby work us pretty hard out there.” He smirked as he maneuvered Don out of the locker room. “You’ll meet Bobby in a little bit, whenever Coach decides to free him from the office.”
Don cast a glance towards the upstairs office. He could see a few figures milling about, but no clear faces. He swallowed, his fear beginning to spill over.
It wasn’t that Chuck was awful, in fact, Don was beginning to feel grateful that Chuck was being so friendly. Don couldn’t remember the last time he had someone claim him like this.
Chuck continued to talk about any little thing, mainly rowing, while they made their way down to the docks. The other boys were clustered together, some in deep conversation, while a few looked out at the water.
“Joe! Come meet your roommate!” Chuck waved.
Again, Don froze up. A part of this was too much, too fast. He was still catching up with Chuck’s last paragraph and now he had to do the proper hello and handshake.
“Hey,” Joe nodded with a small smile and held out his hand.
Don managed to copy his expression and squeezed his hand firmly, before realizing he hadn’t said his name. “Don. Hume.”
“I figured,” Joe let out a laugh. “Otherwise I’d be worried.”
A blush crept up on Don’s face but neither of the other boys seemed to notice as Chuck picked up right where he left off.
“—course, that was before he got pulled from varsity, but that’s another story. There’s Gordy over there. Tall lanky guy? Pretty quiet like yourself but he can be the life of the party, let me tell you. ”
All the names scattered in Don’s mind and his frown deepened. He was going to have to learn eight names fast and he just got here.
“Alright, line up!”
A new voice cut in and Don watched as everyone scrambled into place. Lost in the shuffle, Don remained where he was until Joe grabbed him by the arms and pushed him at the end of the line. Joe smiled with a nod taking his place next to Don, before holding his hands behind his back. Deciding to copy Joe, Don did the same and watched as two older men along with a boy near his age stood in front of the crew.
He recognized the coaches right away from both crew tryouts. Coach Bolles looked happy to see them while Coach Ulbrickson looked indifferent, scanning the crew with a frown. If he wasn’t so nervous, he might’ve laughed. UW strokes and frowning seemed to span generations. He could feel Ulbrickson’s eyes analyzing him and he had to remind himself to breathe.
The final stranger had to be Bobby. He was small, easily the smallest boy in the shell house, but he made up for it with his broad shoulders, strong arms, and overly confident expression. His eyes were blue, summer sky iceberg ocean water blue, and suddenly those eyes were on him. Bobby looked him up and down over and over again until Don felt like he might choke. He hated being stared at like a zoo animal; he hated being stared at all. What on earth was so interesting about him? He was just… Don. He prayed that Bobby was a good guy, otherwise all the extra attention could equal a whole year of teasing and bullying.
“You are all here because Coach Bolles and I decided that you were the best.” Ulbrickson began, pacing back and forth in front of the crew. “Most of you have never rowed before, but that’s expected out of a JV boat; you have time to learn. However, this is not an easy sport. Eight-man crew is one of the most difficult sports in the world, something you hopefully realized during tryouts. If not, well…” He shrugged. “I hope you’re prepared.”
He reminded them of their places in the boat, everyone staring down at him when Don was announced as their stroke. Once they were in the boat, feet strapped in, Ulbrickson finally motioned to Bobby. “This is Bobby Moch, your coxswain. He’s here to keep you in line, call out commands, and execute the strategy created by Coach Bolles and myself. You listen to him and everything should turn out just fine.”
“Fellas.” Bobby grinned. He playfully leaned over to hit Chuck and Jim (right? Yes, that was definitely Jim) as he walked by and then suddenly he was in the boat and staring at Don.
“Don, right?”
His gaze was piercing, stripping Don down to his most vulnerable. If it wasn’t for his grip on the oar, Don was sure he’d be burying his face in his hands. He managed to nod, then his eyes darted down to the bottom of the shell.
“Nope,” Bobby leaned forward and tapped Don’s leg. “I need your eyes on me.”
Bobby motioned with his fingers and Don followed them, obedient and a little bit terrified. While Bobby’s stare still sent a chill down Don’s spine, the edges had softened.
“No matter what, Don,” Bobby began again. “Eyes on me. If I’m not in your head and you’re not in mine, this won’t work.”
Don struggled to breathe, his mind twisting about. Here they were, complete strangers, and already Bobby was asking the impossible. He wasn’t unaware of the connection between a coxswain and stroke but to have it sitting in front of him, the slow realization of what was to come, Don wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.
There was no time to wallow in his panic as they paddled out onto open water and practice began. While the speakers held their own, Bobby’s voice rang in Don’s ears and he did his best to follow. Light on the feather. In. Through. Eyes up.
Don looked up at Bobby then, his lungs bursting, limbs aching. How long he had been staring at his feet, he didn’t know, but Bobby glared at him, arched a brow. “With us, Hume?”
Don bit his lip, a fire burning low in his gut. This time, he matched Bobby’s intensity, not tearing his eyes away for a moment. If this is what Bobby wanted, this is what he’d get.
“That’s it, baby,” Bobby called into the mic. “Come on, fellas. Find Hume.”
The little bit of praise swirled around Don. Never in his life had he been called “baby” and despite the initial disgust in his mind, Don was aching to hear Bobby call him that again. He suddenly seized up, his guilt crashing into him. He was thinking nonsense, letting his adrenaline take over. The boat came to a jolting stop and the mixture of groans hit Don right in the middle of his chest.
“Alright, alright,” Bobby attempted to calm the boys down.
Turning off the mic, Bobby scooted as close as he could to Don, keeping his voice low.
“What’s the problem?”
Don shook his head, an excuse far from his mind. Bobby tsked at this, his mouth forming a thin line as the coaches’ boat puttered beside them.
“Bobby?” Ulbrickson asked, brow raised.
“Noticed there was something going on with Hume’s oar lock,” Bobby lied. “Just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to pop out.”
Ulbrickson wasn’t convinced even as Bobby made a show to climb over to the oar lock and fiddle with it. All Don could do was stare at the water, wishing he was anywhere else.
“We’re good,” Bobby beamed at Ulbrickson, though the smile was forced at best.
Before Ulbrickson could protest, Bobby turned on the mic and readied the boys again. Don spent the rest of practice staring just over Bobby’s left shoulder and reminding himself to breathe. Considering that the boat consisted mostly of freshmen, it went better than expected. Ulbrickson only looked mildly disappointed, but Don was pretty sure he always looked like that. Bolles seemed pleased and so did Bobby, even giving Don a friendly slap on the arm as he climbed back onto the dock. It felt like belonging, a feeling he cherished whenever he could get it.
He hated changing in a locker room, so he just grabbed his bag and started for the door. The more time he spent in the rowdy locker room, the more his confidence began to falter. He’d never been good at camaraderie, the joking and the laughter. His brother said he was overthinking it but… well, maybe Dale was right. Don shook his head and kept walking.
“Don! Wait up!” He froze as Joe jogged over to him, hair wet from the showers. “We’re roommates, let's walk together.”
“O-Okay.” Don shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the sidewalk.
Both JV and varsity boats shared a floor of the dorm building closest to the shellhouse. There were five rooms on each side of a long hallway, four rooms with two boys each and a single room for the coxswains. It was only a ten-minute walk to their room at most, but it felt like an eternity in his mind. What would he even say? He didn’t know Joe very well, what on earth could they talk about? They had texted maybe a handful of times over the summer, but that was it.
“You’re from Olympia right?” Joe jumped right in, glancing over at Don as they walked.
“Yeah.”
“I meant to get over there so we could hang out before school started, but I wasn’t able to. Sorry about that.” Joe shrugged. “My dad kinda fucked up my summer plans, but that happens.” Don only nodded. Asking Joe about his dad seemed like a bad idea. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Not much to say.” Don finally glanced over at Joe and was surprised to see him smiling.
“Okay… what’s your major?”
“Engineering. Wait… we texted about that.” Don raised an eyebrow and Joe’s smile grew. “You knew that already.”
“Yeah, but it got you to say more than three words.” Joe laughed. “You were pretty good out there on the water.”
Don blushed and looked away. He wasn’t good with compliments. “Thanks.”
“I’m serious! It’s like you were made to row.” Joe nudged his shoulder. “I think Bobby was impressed with you.” Finally at the building, he scanned his student ID and they went inside to the elevator. They were on the fifth floor. “Apparently that’s a hard thing to do.”
“How come?”
“Bobby’s a picky guy according to Chuck, a bit of a perfectionist. It makes sense though, he’s supposed to make us perfect.”
Bobby appeared in his mind again, with his vibrant blue eyes and commanding voice, and Don shuddered. What was it about their coxswain that made him so nervous? Don couldn’t hide from Bobby, not the way he was used to hiding from everyone else. He just wanted to go about his days unseen, doing his schoolwork and saying his prayers in between rowing practice. He glanced over to the right as Joe unlocked their door; they were right next to Bobby’s room.
Their room was small, but had enough room for two of everything: twin beds, desks, dressers, and closets. Don’s parents were kind enough to supply him with a small TV and they got to work setting it up and connecting it to Joe’s well-loved Xbox. As they worked on the room, Joe kept talking.
“Did you bring any movies or anything? We can store them with the TV.”
“I don’t… I wasn’t…” Don couldn’t find the words. “I don’t know a lot of movies.” He felt silly. In the Hume household, there hadn’t been much allowance for any mainstream media that hadn’t been rigorously vetted by his parents.
“You don’t have to look so horrified, I’m not judging you.” Joe just shrugged and moved on to his other belongings. “You go to church, right? I saw your necklace.”
Don’s hand shot to his cross. “Yeah. Do you?”
“Not for a long time.” Joe shook his head. “But if you’re into it, then it’s cool.”
Don couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”
“So apparently we’re supposed to meet the other guys at a bonfire tonight to celebrate our first JV practice. You wanna come?”
Don’s first instinct was to say no. He never went to any parties in high school, not even for church-sanctioned events. He didn’t like large crowds, he never knew what to say, and he always ended up just sitting in a corner until it felt appropriate to leave. Joe seemed to sense this about him.
“It’s just us JV guys and apparently Bobby is providing beer since he’s over twenty-one.” When Don didn’t reply, he tried again. “You can shadow me the whole night if you need to, but I think you should go. Team bonding and shit.”
Joe had a point but still, Don grappled with himself. Now alcohol was involved and the thought of the crew getting rowdy, or worse, pressuring Don to drink, tore at his mind. If the hour got too late, then Don would be at the whims of temptation, the whispers of sin creeping up on him.
Joe waited with the patience of a saint, turning to organize his bed while waiting for Don to say something. Anything. Don’s finger traced along the cross and his mind turned to Bobby. He’d probably chew Don out for not being there, a scowl lit up by the fire. His face would be bathed in orange and red hues, then he’d brush a few strands of hair away from his forehead in annoyance.
“I’ll go.”
Don didn’t need the ire of Bobby and really, he had to get out there at some point. This was college now, a chance to grow and figure out himself. While he was sure of his faith, his future plans, he wouldn’t be there in an instant. He’d need a solid foundation to get there and maybe it started with the rowing crew.
“Great!” Joe beamed and gave Don’s arm a playful punch. “Honestly, I don’t want to stay out late either, so we can probably make our excuses after an hour or so.”
Relief washed over Don and he gave a small smile, a short nod. There was no harm in trying, just to see if maybe this time, he might enjoy himself. At the very least, Joe held some of the same sentiments and that was a comfort all its own.
They kept on tidying the room to pass the time, Joe asking a few questions, letting Don be with his short, sometimes one-word answers. On occasion, Joe would skirt around an issue and Don knew better than to even raise a brow. Soon, the place was starting to show its personality and both boys flopped down on their respective beds.
“What do you think of the crew so far?” Joe asked, tucking an arm behind his head.
“Fine?” Don frowned.
It had only been the first day after all. Just keeping everyone’s name straight was a challenge in itself, let alone figuring out if he even liked any of the guys.
Joe sighed and turned on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I guess I meant, what do you think about Bobby?”
At this, Don swallowed. He stared at the ceiling, boring holes into the textured white panels. In all honesty, Bobby terrified him. While wanting his praise, Don also hated the feeling of Bobby’s eyes on him, watching, judging every move. Don could only hope he wouldn’t become self-conscious of his breathing next.
“He’s…fine.”
Joe snorted. “Just fine?”
“He’s… I dunno, he’s a little scary.” He winced, mentally preparing for the inevitable judgment.
“Yeah, he is.” Joe sat up with a grin. “But hey, if he gets too annoying we could just pick him up and toss him overboard.”
Don laughed. “Yeah I guess so.”
They spent the next few hours talking, Don slowly talking more and more. By the time they had changed and made their way downstairs, he felt comfortable around Joe, even fond of him. He was grateful to have Joe as his roommate; Joe didn’t expect anything more than what Don was comfortable with.
Evenings were still warm in August, so Don had chosen a pair of cargo shorts, a white t-shirt, and an orange short-sleeved button-up that he kept open. His hair was long enough to pull into a small bun so he did; as much as he liked his hair, it could get annoying in the summer. After much inner deliberation, he tucked his necklace under his shirt. Sometimes the cross attracted unwanted questions and Don wanted to spend one evening without being super anxious.
Chuck and Johnny had started the bonfire behind the shellhouse and set up nine camping chairs, a pile of junk food, and a bluetooth speaker. Don didn’t recognize the music but Joe did, nodding his head to the beat as he made his way to a chair. Don quickly sat next to him.
The rest of the boys wandered over. Gordy took the chair on his other side with a shy smile which Don returned.
“So we’re all here-”
“Where the fuck is Bobby?” Jim looked around. “Of course he’s late.”
“You talking shit about me McMillin?” Bobby seemed to appear out of nowhere, a case of beer in each hand. “I’m fashionably late and I brought alcohol, be thankful.” He placed the beer by the pile of junk food and took the seat directly across from Don. He looked over at him and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It’s nice to see you all here.” Don wanted to die. Stop looking at me. “Now let’s drink and be fucking merry.”
An hour later, the bonfire had turned into a very loud affair. Don was the only one without a beer in his hand and everyone was either joking around or singing along to the music. He was content to sip on his soda and listen.
“Bobby, you have no right to give me relationship advice.” Don didn’t mean to eavesdrop on Chuck’s conversation but the topic piqued his curiosity.
“Alright fuck you! I’m a great boyfriend!” Bobby was on his third beer and practically yelling. “Name one time I’ve been the problem. You can’t, can you?”
“I feel like Mikey would disagree dude. And Tyler. And… well, not Mark, but he was an asshole.”
Mikey. Tyler. Mark. Those were boy names. Don’s eyes widened and he started nervously fidgeting with his necklace. Bobby was… gay? Don wasn’t a fool, he knew that going to a public university meant that he would encounter groups of people he never had before but he didn’t really know what to do. His mother had given him an entire speech before he left about finding the right kind of friends and looking for people to ‘keep him on the straight and narrow path’.
Bobby was his coxswain. He was the stroke. They had to be ridiculously connected or else the boat would fail. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. They’d need to be friends. Bobby had said that they needed to be in each other's heads. What did that even mean? Would knowing Bobby’s sexuality mess that up? Don was starting to panic. He’d never been friends with a gay person before, he never thought he would be. Oh my god. What would his parents think?
“Don? Don!” Bobby’s voice broke through and he glanced up, eyes wide. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Y-Yeah.” Don’s voice cracked. Crap. “Just tired.”
Bobby stared at him for a moment, then stood. With a grin, he walked over and held out a beer. “Here. Let loose a little, you look super nervous.”
Don felt like he was going to burst into flames. His face had to be bright red. “I’ve… I’ve never had beer before.”
Bobby shrugged and then raised the bottle to his lips. He stuck it just far enough into his mouth to grip the bottle cap with his teeth and the bottle opened with a hiss. Bobby spit the bottle cap into his hand and held the beer out again. “There’s a first time for everything. No pressure though, I promise.”
An explosion erupted in Don’s gut as he stared at Bobby, eyes wide. He’d never seen someone do that before; why was it making him feel lightheaded? His head was swimming and he hadn’t even had any alcohol yet. Screw it. He reached out with a shaky hand and took the bottle.
“Hell yeah, Donny.” Bobby cheered, clapping him on the shoulder. A few of the boys whooped and hollered. Don tried to smile and took a big gulp.
Oh god, beer was awful. He couldn’t keep himself from making a disgusted face, coughing a little at the taste. Bobby just laughed, squeezed his arm, and went back to his seat. The ghost of Bobby’s hand burned on his skin and he took another drink. He was even more nervous.
“You don’t have to drink the whole thing.” Joe chuckled. “It tastes gross, doesn’t it?”
“It’s awful.” Don grimaced. “Why do you guys like it?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.” Joe glanced down at the bottle in his hand. “You’re ready to head back, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
A few hours later, it was midnight and Don was wide awake. Joe had fallen asleep as soon as he’d hit the bed but Don couldn’t get his mind to calm down. On a good day, he’d get five hours of sleep at most, but his insomnia got worse when he was anxious and Bobby made him anxious.
Suddenly, he could hear voices from the other side of his wall, Bobby’s voice and someone he didn’t recognize. There was a clatter, something thumped against the wall, and then there was… a whine? Oh god, he must share a wall with Bobby’s bed.
“Shit shit shit, stay over here.” Bobby’s voice was muffled but out of breath, like he was running a marathon. “Shirt off, now.” Another thud, and then Bobby’s bed creaked. Shuffling and shuffling, barely audible moans, the soft murmur of words that Don couldn’t understand. He wanted to curl up and die. Bobby was having sex. Their wall was thin enough for Don to hear Bobby having sex. He pulled his blanket over his head in a desperate attempt to drown it out, but it wasn’t working. “C’mon, faster… oh fuck, you - shit- feels so good.”
Don had never heard something so filthy in his life. He wasn’t allowed to watch movies with sex scenes and he’d never watched porn, something he knew the rest of the high school football team was doing. The noises coming from Bobby’s room were sinful, downright pornographic. He shouldn’t be listening, he should grab his earbuds, but… his curiosity had always been his downfall. The bed was creaking faster and Bobby was getting louder. “‘M so close, please. Oh my god oh my god, I’m gonna-.” He finally cried out and Don shoved his hands over his ears. He was so hot, he was pretty sure he had sweated through his shirt. He was frozen to his bed, a tornado of butterflies in his stomach and a strange foreign feeling. He felt dirty, like he’d been the sinner just for listening.
Sharing a wall with Bobby just might kill him and the semester hadn’t even started yet. How was he supposed to look Bobby in the eye? They had practice in seven hours.
He was going to die.
@strangethings-everywhere and me anytime we ask each other "when will jack return from war?"
Like a Prayer - Chapter 6
Previous - Next
Chapter Summary: In which Bobby and Don get drunk, Don goes through hell, and maybe the best decisions aren't made.
But hey, who's to judge?
Chapter Rating: Explicit
Words: 6300
A/N: THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER flashbacks to me being like "uh oh am I going too fast" and @strangethings-everywhere reassuring me all was well
-
AO3
or
The night was filled with drunken singing and scattered conversations.
Don was having a hard time keeping track of who was saying what by now, beer bottle heavy in his hand. He was still put off by the taste, but the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest was nice. Bobby was pressed tight against his side, going on a tirade and almost shouting in Jim’s face.
“I SWEAR TO GOD MCMILLAN, I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”
“Bobby.” Don yanked on his shirt in a weak attempt to hold him back. It was hard to keep a grip on him when Don couldn’t stop fucking giggling. “Bobby, c’mon man.”
“I don’t know why any of us try to argue with Bobby, it’s useless.” Chuck laughed, one of his arms draped over Roger’s shoulders. If Don had been sober, maybe he would’ve noticed the way that Roger leaned into him, but he was barely able to process anything besides the feeling of Bobby pressed against his body.
“And that’s why I’m gonna be the best damn lawyer Seattle has ever seen!” Bobby declared, nearly falling down as he waved his arms in the air. Don grabbed him around waist and yanked him back into his seat with a grunt. “Swear to god Donny.” Bobby grinned up at him.
“I believe you.” Don laughed. His limbs felt all tingly and he wasn’t sure it was from the alcohol.
Joyce, now officially Joe’s girlfriend, had been invited to their celebration without hesitation. She was universally adored and Shorty often joked that she was the tenth member of the boat. Now she was seated on Don’s other side, watching their antics with a knowing smile. “Hey Don?”
He took another drink and leaned over. “Yeah?”
“It’s a beautiful night for a walk.”
He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you…” He followed her gaze and realized she was looking very pointedly at Bobby. Oh. Sober Don might’ve panicked a little at the idea of getting Bobby alone at night but slightly buzzed Don? His body burned at the potential. He nodded. “Yeah it is.”
Joyce patted his arm with a grin. “Joe and I will keep an eye on them. Go talk to him.” She winked. “Or kiss him, whatever you want.”
Don’s face got hot. “Thanks, Joyce.” He leaned over to Bobby who was about to open another beer. “Put that down, I wanna go on a walk.”
“Since when are you giving orders?” Bobby muttered through a barely concealed smile.
“Robert.”
“Alright, alright. Yes, sir.” Bobby put down his drink and followed Don into the dark.
They walked in silence for a few minutes until they reached the shell house and found a spot where they were hidden from view. Bobby smirked, leaning against the wall. “I feel like I’m being kidnapped. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to talk to you alone.” Don shoved his hands deep in his pockets and slowly took a step forward. He was shaking. If he opened this door, there was no turning back but for the first time in his life, his desire was winning the battle against his anxiety. “I like being alone with you.”
Bobby looked surprised, almost as if he realized what was about to happen. “Donny?”
He took a few more steps until he was mere inches from Bobby, heart pounding in his chest. “I’ve been so scared. I don’t wanna be scared anymore. I want…” He took a deep breath. “I want to kiss you.”
Bobby gasped. “Are you… what? Are you sure?”
Slowly he reached out and planted one hand next to Bobby’s head, trapping him against the wall. With the other, he gently ran his thumb along Bobby’s jaw. “Y-Yeah.”
Bobby didn’t move, allowing Don full power over his decision. Instead he stared up at him in wonder, lips parted and eyes wide with want. His eyes, usually an icy blue, had darkened to that of a storm cloud or a raging sea. Bobby wanted him and Don wanted right back.
Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Don leaned in until their noses touched. “Can I?”
Bobby gently grabbed Don’s necklace. “You better.”
He was hesitant at first, his lips barely brushing Bobby’s. He’d never kissed anyone before and that was nerve wracking enough. The second kiss was better, more eager, their teeth clashing together as Bobby grabbed onto him. He’d never felt more alive in his life.
Why they parted, Don didn’t know, and he was slow to open his eyes. Bobby looked back, cheeks red, the faintest smile on his face. “I think I might be in love with you, Donny.”
The sludge in Don’s head sloshed around and the words crawled their way into the unfilled cracks. The night air nipped at his skin before a wave of sobriety washed over him. He was jumping past all his milestones. Here, he hadn’t even known Bobby for six months and he was ready to give himself over body and soul. This was all too good to be true. He’d wake up in the morning and find himself right back at the beginning.
“I…,” Don couldn’t speak. Prying himself from Bobby’s hold, Don began to back away.
“Don?” Bobby’s voice was small and panicked.
Don’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. He’d been fooling himself this whole time. Thinking that he had been forgiven was a fool’s hope. The disappointed faces of his parents flashed in his mind. Sermons damning Don to eternal hell circled around him. Down, down he was being pulled and no one, not even Bobby could pull him free.
The memory of Bobby’s kiss, of Don’s own greed, was piling up. All that had plagued him since his first day here rained down on him and nausea rose to Don’s mouth. He had to get away. Don started to run back to the dorms, Bobby shouted after him. He tried to follow, but Don didn’t stop. Not until his door slammed behind him and he threw the lock into place. It wasn’t long before there was pounding at his door, Bobby begging to be let in.
Don squeezed his eyes shut, covered his ears. He was cursed, unredeemable. God and his angels were laughing at him and mocking his weakened soul. No matter what he did from here on out, Don would be forlorn for the remainder of his days. Rushing over to a garbage can, Don threw up the contents of his stomach. He slid down the wall, curling up his knees to his chest while tears spilled down his face.
Hiccuping around shuddered breaths, Don wrapped his arms around himself, a blanket that did little to protect him from all that was attacking him. He could hear Bobby crying on the other side of the door and agony tore at his heart. All he had to do was let Bobby in, allow Bobby to reassure him with love and affection. But Don couldn’t do it.
In his drunken sorrow, Don was beginning to believe that Bobby deserved someone better than him. Time and time again Bobby was patient and understanding, giving Don every little bit of himself even amongst the harshness. Don had never returned what Bobby so graciously shared. Instead, he had been selfish, stubborn. Not even worth the friendship that had formed between them.
When Don fell asleep he didn’t know, but the next thing he knew, he was being awoken to Joe shaking him roughly. “What happened?”
Joe wasn’t yelling, but Don still winced, his head pounding. There was fury in Joe’s stare, yet there was also worry and compassion. Don’s eyes darted around their small room, his hands squeezing into fists. The keys in his right hand dug into his palm, the pain sending a shock to Don’s hazy mind. Shoving Joe away, Don burst from the room. There was only one place for him to go now. He didn’t care that he was a disheveled mess. All that mattered was the security of the church.
Don burst through the doors, service already over and the church still, quiet. Sliding into his usual spot, Don held hands clasped in prayer close to his mouth. He repeated prayers, called to God. He was pleading with tears streaming down his face. His heart, his human desires, needed to be carved out of him and he would do whatever was asked to make it so.
So fervently he prayed, promising the world, asking to be anyone but himself. He would devote all his days to the church, just so long as he didn’t feel this way. Lost in his storm, Don didn’t notice the presence sliding next to him and he jerked when an arm tried to wrap around his shoulder.
“It’s just me, Don.”
Through his tears, Don stared back at the face of Roger. On instinct, his brows furrowed before he just shook his head and hid behind his hands. Roger was a friend, but they weren’t close. Their conversations were light, somewhat superficial. Of all people to come find him, Roger was the last person Don was expecting. There was a small comfort in this and maybe someone who didn’t know the details would help sort him out. “W-What are you-“
“Did you know I used to go to church?” Roger looked around the sanctuary, smiling as he looked at the stained glass window. “Grew up in it, just like you. Sometimes I still go.”
“What happened?” Don sniffled, leaning into Roger’s hug.
“When I was in 10th grade, I found out I was gay. I had no interest in girls, but I was borderline obsessed with one of the boys in my class, a guy named Tyler. When my parents found out, well…” He shook his head. “That’s pretty much the reason that I live with my aunt.”
“They kicked you out?” Don recoiled, once again imagining his parent’s disappointment.
“It was for the best.” Roger shrugged. “I’m not trying to scare you, I’m really not, but I know what you’re going through. It took me two years and a college admissions letter to work up the courage to tell my family. Don, your parents’ job is to love you unconditionally. If you being gay ruins that, then that’s conditional love and you deserve better. God calls us to love everyone, even those that we don’t agree with. Everyone in our boat loves you Donny and we’ll be your family without hesitation, if you need us.” He stood and squeezed Don’s shoulder. “Bobby loves you too, but he also respects you. If you aren’t ready, he’s not going to push it. However,” Roger fixed Don with a determined look, “you guys need to talk and figure out what you both want.”
“Roger?” Don called as he left the pew. “Who is it? For you?”
Roger grinned. “Chuck.”
Don sat in the church for almost an hour after Roger left, deep in thought. Roger was right, he did have a family with his team, but would he be okay if his parents and brother deserted him? He couldn’t imagine Dale turning his back, but his parents were another story. Memories of seeking their approval, trying to be the perfect son all came with a bitter edge. The one person who didn’t point out his flaws had been Dale. To this day, he stood up for Don like no one else.
He might lose his parents, but he was sure of his brother’s love. Pulling out his phone, Don’s hands shook and he texted a quick message to his brother, begging him to not tell their parents the secret he was about to reveal.
What’s wrong? Can I call you?
No. Don inhaled sharply and then typed out, I’m gay.
The wait for a reply was torture but Don didn’t look away from his screen. The three dots played with his mind and then there was a wall of words.
Thank you for trusting me. You’re my brother always and I love you. Nothing could ever change that. I don’t know if Mom and Dad should know but if they do find out and kick you out, I’m moving to wherever you go. Are you safe?
The phone dropped from his hands and Don sobbed. He still had Dale, his wonderful, amazing little brother. When he had grown so mature, Don didn’t know, but tears of relief spilled down his face. The storm clouds were starting to break and Roger’s speech was surrounding him, reminding Don what joy he still had in his life.
After reassuring Dale that he was going to be okay, Don looked up at the stained glass, wiping away the last of his tears. The sunlight burst through and he could feel the love of God, the comforting scriptures that reminded him he would not be abandoned.
A small laugh bubbled out of him and Don got up from the pew with one thought on his mind. He had to find Bobby. With this new energy, his running was no longer away from those who had opened their arms. Instead, Don wanted to see their grins, feel their hugs and light. He all but slammed into Bobby’s door and Don pounded with his fist, calling for Bobby.
“He’s not here,” Joe shot out from their room. “What the hell have you been doing?”
“Where is he?” Don ignored Joe’s question.
He couldn’t stay still, even as Joe shot him a wary stare but at last Joe gave him an answer.
“At the shell house.”
Don took off again, head buzzing. He hoped he wasn’t too late, prayed that Bobby would give him another chance. He skidded across grass and gravel until at last he reached the place where it all began. Slowing himself, Don whipped his head around for any sight of Bobby. Beyond a soft wind, the area was quiet and then Don saw him.
Standing at the end of the dock, Bobby was facing the water. His usual proud stature was shrunken, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around himself.
Don’s steps on the dock were far from quiet but Bobby didn’t turn around.
“Bobby,” Don called to him at last.
Bobby’s head almost snapped to Don, before he caught himself and turned his head back. “What are you doing here?” Bobby’s voice was raw, grating and Don’s heart fell.
How long had he cried for? Perhaps he was still crying now. Don paused, then took a deep breath in.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being scared. I’ve never felt this way and I didn’t expect it to be with a guy of all things,” Don swallowed, his mouth already drying up. “But I love you, Bobby. This—this is who I am now and I want to give us a try.”
Bobby shivered and Don stepped close. Their bodies were a breath apart, but Bobby still hadn’t turned around.
“You expect me to believe you suddenly changed in a couple of hours?” Bobby scoffed. He wiped at his face and tucked his chin to his chest.
Don hadn’t thought about it that way. Bobby wasn’t wrong. For Don to have flipped like a coin, it was even baffling to himself. But for the first time in his life, Don was sure of something beyond his faith. Slowly, Don lifted his hands and placed them on Bobby’s shoulders. Bobby tensed under his touch, though he did not pull away, giving Don his last bit of courage. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss under Bobby’s ear. His body was on fire, the soft skin was electric. Don couldn’t see anything else except Bobby in front of him and he wrapped his arms around Bobby’s waist.
“Fucker,” Bobby grumbled before turning around in Don’s hold. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
His hands rose to Don’s chest, firm and curling at the fingertips.
“What am I going to do with you?” Bobby whispered as he stood on his toes.
Bobby’s breath was hot on his mouth and Don swallowed. He could only shrug as his mind strayed to other, sidetracked thoughts. With a small laugh, Bobby closed the gap and their mouths crashed together. This was not like the kiss from the night before. Don did not hesitate to deepen the embrace, he held Bobby against him, intent to never let go. While Bobby still led, Don teased him along the way until their kiss ended with a shared sigh.
“Damn,” Don breathed.
Bobby was a sight, even with reddened eyes and unkempt hair. There were a few lines, creases on his face, ones that would deepen with the years. If Don was lucky, he’d get to run his fingers along them when age dotted his skin.
“Something must’ve really knocked you in the head,” Bobby raised a brow, the corner of his mouth turned up . “You’re swearing like it’s nothing now.”
“Oh,” Don blushed, “I, uh…”
“Don’t force it,” Bobby grinned. “Though I have to admit hearing you swear is a bit of a turn on.”
Don laughed, then a memory sparked in his mind. “Wait, that day when Joe and I argued. You liked that?”
It was Bobby’s turn to be embarrassed, but he tried to brush it off. “I don’t know if “like” is the best word, but you were pretty hot,” Bobby shifted closer to whisper into Don’s ear, “Got me wondering what you’d do to me if I acted out.”
Heat boiled low in Don’s stomach and he stared at Bobby with wide eyes. He wanted so much, he wanted it all, but he hadn’t been with anyone. If he disappointed Bobby, Don wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
“We’ll start slow,” Bobby reassured, sensing the fear in Don’s stare. His grin didn’t falter, almost turning devilish as he watched Don. “Oh, we’re going to have fun, Donny.”
A tingle ran along Don’s spine and he chewed on his lip. “Can we…now?”
Bobby’s eyes were about to pop out of his head, his mouth flapping open and closed like a fish. Don started to shake his head, apologize for jumping the gun, but then Bobby grabbed him by the wrist. Between kissing and running, the two stumbled back to the dorms, laughter following them the entire way.
Bobby pushed Don against a wall, pulled him down into an open-mouthed kiss. Don shivered when their tongues laced together and his hands found their place on Bobby’s waist. The familiar click of a door opening gave Bobby pause and the two looked to see Joe looking out into the hallway.
“Oh,” Joe blinked. “Well, uh,” he shuffled back into the room, grabbing his coat and backpack. “I’m headed to Joyce’s. Talk to you all later.” He gave the two a tight grin and rushed from the hallway.
Bobby and Don waited until Joe’s figure disappeared around the corner before breaking down into breathy laughs. No doubt their phones would be blowing up soon. Time was of the essence and Bobby gave Don a smirk.
“Mine or yours?”
The entire UW campus must’ve heard Bobby’s door slam shut behind them, but Don didn’t care. He can barely stand to move away from Bobby, much less stop kissing him. Kissing Bobby was a bit like being on the edge of a hurricane. Don knew he was being slowly sucked in by this great and raging thing intent on devouring him whole. He quickly decided that he didn’t mind being devoured.
Bobby suddenly pulled back. “Hey… are you sure? Like one hundred percent sure?”
In response, Don pulled his t-shirt over his head and pulled Bobby into another searing kiss. “Oh my god.” Bobby mumbled against his lips, running his hands all over Don’s back and chest.
“What?” Don asked innocently, nipping at Bobby’s bottom lip.
“Just… you.” It felt like Bobby was creating constellations from the freckles on his shoulders, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Don’s bare torso. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His gaze was hungry and focused, like he was planning the best way to make Don crumble with nothing but his mouth and his hands.
But he didn’t want to crumble. Don wanted to take his fucking time.
He tugged on Bobby’s shirt. “Take this off.” Bobby opened his mouth to reply, but Don cut him off with another messy kiss and tugged on the fabric again. “Take. It. Off.”
Don had never spoken with such authority in his life. He didn’t know where exactly it was coming from but the surprised look on Bobby’s face as he removed his shirt filled him with excitement. He wanted Bobby to fall apart because of him, to pull out all those sinful noises that had plagued him for so long. To hear Bobby moan his name again. Fuck, he craved it. He just needed to figure out what Bobby liked.
With a burst of courage, he tangled his fingers in Bobby’s hair and pulled just enough to tilt his head back. Bobby gasped, his fingernails digging into Don’s shoulders. “Oh fuck.”
He grinned and attached his lips to Bobby’s neck, licking and biting at the soft skin. Don knew that everyone would be able to see the purple bruises he was leaving on Bobby’s neck but he wanted them to see. Let everyone know that Bobby Moch belonged to him. “What do you want?” He murmured, nipping at Bobby’s collarbone. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
Bobby moaned, hips bucking into Don. “Christ, are you sure you’re a virgin?” He breathed into Don’s skin. “I want everything. Anything.”
Don’s mind swirled and he placed a firm kiss on Bobby’s neck before sinking to his knees. His hands trailed from Bobby’s chest, down to the silver scar on his stomach. He looked at Bobby, waiting for any sign of discomfort. All he saw was intense love, Bobby holding his breath. Don touched the scar, felt along the healed edges, then he leaned in to kiss it. Bobby let out a sigh, a whispered swear, his hands tangling into Don’s hair.
Unable to help himself, Don licked the scar, his hands kneaded along the waistband of Bobby's jeans. He traced the outline of Bobby’s cock before palming the bulge and a low moan hit his ears. Don glanced up at Bobby, time coming to a stop at the sight above him.
Through hooded eyes, Bobby stared at Don, chewing on his lip. His hand came up to cup Don’s face and, as though he were receiving the gift of life itself, Don kissed Bobby’s palm. He revered the man before him, opened his mouth to accept his blessings. Bobby traced his fingers along Don’s mouth before pushing two in, a heady moan leaving him the moment Don started to suck.
Closing his eyes, Don relished the weight on his tongue, he licked every inch of skin he could. A third finger prodded at his mouth and Don opened his mouth wider, bobbing his head as Bobby thrusted. Where this was coming from, he did not know. All Don could focus on was Bobby’s touch, how this felt right. He squeezed the hand on Bobby’s cock, grinning around the fingers when Bobby moaned.
“Fuck, get on the bed,” Bobby pulled his fingers away and all but dragged Don to his feet. “I need you in me. Now.”
Before Don could do anything, Bobby worked his jeans open, ridding Don of all his clothes. Now fully exposed in front of Bobby, residual embarrassment crept up on Don and his face went red. Bobby stepped closer, his fingers dancing along Don’s stomach and sides. A hand lifted to trace the outline of the necklace, the cross that sat on Don’s chest.
“You okay? You still want to do this?”
Exhaling through his nose, Don nodded, frantic. He wanted this so much, he was close to bursting. Bobby huffed with amusement, then he held Don’s face in his hands and brought him into a soft kiss.
“Thank you,” Bobby breathed. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Don’s knees wobbled and he hurried onto the bed before he could collapse. Bobby just grinned, then got rid of his own jeans and briefs. Don swallowed, his eyes traveling up and down the length of Bobby. Against pale skin, his cock stood out, proud and red, a little smaller than Don’s own, but not by much. He wanted it in his mouth, in his hands, anywhere, and he reached out for Bobby.
“I’m coming,” Bobby grinned, climbing onto the bed.
He pushed Don back against the mattress, then settled on top of his thighs. Their cocks barely brushed, but it was enough to pull a groan out of Don. He grabbed onto Bobby’s legs, dug his nails into the soft flesh.
“Yeah, you’re right, I better get prepped,” Bobby teased.
He leaned over, opening a drawer on the nightstand, his hand digging around. His chest pressed against Don’s and he gave him a smirk before grinding his cock into Don’s hip. Don’s cock rutted against Bobby's thigh, the friction not enough and yet burning all the way down to his bones. Don threw his head back, a choked gasp leaving him.
“Hey, don’t leave your body yet,” Bobby gave his face a couple of pats. “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
Don’s mind short-circuited, heart skipping. Bobby was right, there was still so much to go, but Don wasn’t sure if he could last.
“Eyes up, Don,” Bobby smirked. “Look at me.”
On instinct. Don did as Bobby asked. His hands began to knead Bobby’s thighs as Bobby opened a bottle and drizzled clear liquid over his fingers.
“Lube,” Bobby explained and Don relaxed his tight expression. “Gonna make everything a lot easier.”
Bobby reached behind himself, lifting a little onto his knees to get leverage. Don could only watch, a mixture of awe and fear as Bobby worked a finger into himself. With the way he was wincing and panting, Don worried Bobby was hurting himself. He pushed up onto his elbows, let his hand ghost along Bobby’s side.
“Always tight at first,” Bobby started, his voice strained. “Just gotta relax and then it starts to feel good.”
Don wasn’t convinced, but he nodded anyway. He held his breath as Bobby slid in a second finger, his stomach flipping when Bobby used his free hand to brace himself on Don’s chest.
“Can I help?” Don asked.
Bobby’s eyebrows shot up and a smile spread across his face. “Yeah? You wanna give it a try?”
Biting his lip, Don held out his hand. Pausing his own movements, Bobby grabbed the lube and squeezed it onto Don’s fingers.
“Just one,” Bobby instructed as Don reached behind. “Feel where mine are. I’ll let you know when you can push in.”
Don’s body was on fire. His fingers brushed against Bobby’s ass, making Bobby jolt. Then, Don felt Bobby’s hand, his hole stretched around two fingers. He was starting to shake, his thoughts clouding over with lust. Swirling his finger around, Don felt along the rim, amazed at how Bobby could be stretched so wide.
“Go ahead,” Bobby whispered.
As slow as he could, Don pushed the tip of his finger inside. Bobby was hot, slick, but more than that, his hole was soft. Don wiggled his finger around, feeling how Bobby pulsed and clenched.
“You—,” Bobby gasped as Don dragged his finger against him. “You can go faster.”
Don blinked, then he slid his finger in, further and further until it was all the way in. Bobby shook with a moan, his own fingers sliding against Don’s.
“I knew you’d feel good, fuck, your finger is perfect. God, I’m going to die when you open me up next time.”
Next time. Don was walking on air, reassured of Bobby’s love, the days ahead of them. He curled his finger and Bobby whined.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. Don,” Bobby threw his head back. “Do that again.”
Don did as Bobby asked, of course he would, and he preened as Bobby cried out.
“Shit, okay, okay,” Bobby breathed.
He pulled his fingers out and then, much to Don’s chagrin, had Don pull his finger out too.
“Don’t worry,” Bobby grinned, kissing the corner of Don’s frown. “We’re just changing positions.”
Before Don could ask, Bobby manhandled him, flipping their bodies around. Now, Bobby was on his back with Don knelt above him. Don had his hands braced on either side of Bobby’s head and his heart pounded in his chest. Perfect blue stared back at him, beckoning, coy, and Don couldn’t help himself. He tangled a hand in Bobby’s hair, crashed their mouths together. Bobby opened up easily to him and Don pulled at his hair.
The moan filling his mouth was better than any prayer. Exaltation just meant for Don alone. Perhaps it was prideful to think of himself being worshiped, but with Bobby’s hands scrambling up his arms, his hips lifted off the bed, maybe Don could allow himself a little bit of holiness.
He mouthed along Bobby’s jaw and neck, bit across his chest as he raked his hands down Bobby’s torso. Then, his hand took hold of Bobby’s cock and he gave it a sharp tug. Bobby gasped, writhed on the bed, his back arching. He spread his legs open and Don stared at the beauty before him. His fingers made a line from Bobby’s hip, dipping down between his legs, his thumb tugging at the puffed rim.
“Please,” Bobby begged. “Don, please.”
He thrust the bottle of lube into Don’s hand, then paused. His lust-ridden eyes cleared for a moment and he was back to digging in the drawer. Don furrowed his brows, then his mouth formed an o when Bobby held up a condom with a proud smile.
“I mean, I’m clean, but this is your first time and you should know how to use these.”
Don didn’t protest as Bobby tore open the wrapper and pulled out the condom. Of course it was purple like their school colors and Don flushed, knowing he wouldn’t look at that shade the same way again.
“It, um,” Bobby searched for the right words. “Let me just show you.”
Bobby sat up and scooted close to Don, draping his legs over Don’s bent ones. Once he was close enough, Bobby took hold of Don’s cock, gave it a gentle stroke.
“Oh, f—,” Don bit back the swear word, old habits dying hard.
“You’re gonna tear me in two,” Bobby spoke just above a whisper, his fist sliding up Don’s cock, a thumb swiping at the head.
Don shuddered, his mind catching up and now curious just how indeed he was going to fit inside Bobby. He gripped onto Bobby’s knees, a tether keeping him upright, and then Bobby slid the condom down Don’s cock. Don closed his eyes, the familiar need building in his stomach. He couldn’t come yet though. He whined when Bobby’s hands left him only to find Bobby dragging him into a kiss.
When the kiss ended, Bobby’s eyes were dark, heated, and he laid back on the bed, opening his legs wider for Don. Don shivered as he lined himself up with Bobby. He had to be good, had to be confident, and he pushed the head of his cock into Bobby’s hole. Bobby bit down on his lip, a whimper caught in his throat. Don’s first instinct was to pull back, but Bobby's hand caught his wrist and he guided Don another inch.
“Just—just a lot,” Bobby breathed. “You feel so damn good though, baby.”
Don couldn’t do anything but believe Bobby, entranced by his fluttering eyes, the hair matted against his sweat-slicked forehead. He held his breath, pushing into Bobby, the tight heat enveloping him. The walls squeezed him just right and Don choked as Bobby clenched. There was a little laugh and Don, in his haze, just smiled back. Don wanted to stay like this forever, a low groan leaving him when he finally filled Bobby to the hilt.
“Fuck,” Bobby sobbed, head thrown back.
His hands twisted in the sheets and his cock leaked onto his stomach. Don leaned down, licking away some of the pre-cum, the taste bitter on his tongue. Yet, it was sweet as honey, and Don needed more. He fell back over Bobby, fingers curling as Bobby wrapped his legs around his waist.
“Go ahead, baby,” Bobby shifted his hips. “Take what’s yours.”
Don was about to burst into tears and he squeezed his eyes shut. Pulling back until just the tip of his cock was inside Bobby, Don then slammed back in, an animalistic sound clawing out of him. Bobby swore, the vein on his neck pulsing, his hands all but tearing the sheets apart. Don repeated the action and then, it was as if a switch flipped. Don thrust into Bobby, methodical, gauging all of Bobby’s gasps and moans. His hands had found their place on Don, scrambling up his arms, squeezing his shoulders tight.
Leaning forward, Don placed his hands on either side of Bobby’s head, mouthing at his ear, kissing along his temple and the outline of his jaw. He breathed in all of Bobby’s being, only drawing back to look at the man sprawled out underneath him. Don’s breath caught in his throat, his hips stuttering
The cross, his cross, was draped in the center of Bobby’s chest, a holy image soaked in love and want. All of Don’s worlds were coming together, blending into one, a promise of a new beginning. Fighting back the sob that threatened to escape, Don picked up his pace, focused back on seeking his and Bobby’s pleasure. The necklace shifted with this abrupt change, almost hitting Bobby in the face.
“Sorry,” Don panicked and paused his movements to tear the necklace off.
“No!”
Don froze, his fingers touching the chain. Bobby seemed just as shocked by his outburst and he settled back against the pillow.
“Keep it on. Please.”
Dropping his hand, Don nodded, then pushed deep into Bobby, grinding his hips against his ass. Bobby arched up, a pleasant hum leaving him and Don took that as his cue to start again. His pace was harsher, turning more and more frantic by the second. It was too good, overwhelming in all the right ways. Bobby couldn’t stop swearing, his hands touched every part of Don that they could. Between biting Bobby and pulling his hair, Don was lost in his own sea of pleasure, his hips snapping into Bobby.
“Don, oh, god, Don,” Bobby cried out, forcing Don to open his eyes.
He swam into the sparkling blue, the coil inside of him ready to break. There was nothing else outside these four walls, no one besides Bobby.
“Bobby,” Don breathed, his face hovering just above Bobby’s.
With a whine, Bobby clenched around Don, his orgasm hitting him hard and fast. Don’s eyes went wide, unable to look away from the spurts of cum coating Bobby’s stomach. Bobby tightened around him, reminding Don of his own need, his thrusting turning into nothing more than using Bobby for his own pleasure.
“That’s it,” Bobby encouraged, breathless. “Keep going, baby.”
Bobby’s cock leaked a few more drops, his skin was flushed and gleaming. He gazed at Don like he was sent from above and in this moment, Don was willing to let him believe it. He whimpered, his climax building, seizing. Just moments before Don came, Bobby grabbed his cross, pulled him down to slam their mouths together. Don cried, his orgasm wracking his body, and Bobby drank down his sobs, a communion of their souls.
Don collapsed on top of Bobby, their kiss ending. He buried his face into the crook of Bobby’s neck, his tears wetting the smooth, untarnished skin.
“Hey…hey,” Bobby soothed, fingers coming through Don’s hair. “Donny…,”
Don clung to Bobby for dear life, his heart so full, his brain a cluttered mess. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but he wasn’t disgusted or horrified. He was in awe of the way that he felt, the way that Bobby made him feel. Bobby made him feel loved in a way he’d never felt loved before. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He pressed featherlight kisses to Bobby’s shoulder. “I’m okay.”
Bobby ran a hand through Don’s hair. “You’re crying.”
“I know.” He smiled. “I just… I’m overwhelmed but it’s good, it’s so good.” He tightened his grip on Bobby and took a few deep breaths. “Holy shit.”
Bobby laughed and shook his head. “I think we’re a bad influence on you.” He pressed a kiss to Don’s temple. “We should probably clean ourselves up, c’mon.”
Throwing on discarded underwear and jeans, Bobby grabbed his towels and then ushered Don out into the hall. They snuck over to the showers, biting back laughter before squeezing into a stall together. The hot water eased the faint strain in Don’s muscles and he wiped his hair away from his face to look at Bobby.
This was better than any dream. Bobby grinned at Don as he scrubbed himself down, then paused just long enough to give Don a peck on the lips.
“Help a guy out?” Bobby teased, handing Don the shampoo bottle.
With a smile, Don kissed Bobby on the forehead, then set to washing his hair. Bobby hummed when Don dug his nails into his scalp, leaned back into him until their bodies were flush together. Heart full, Don couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around Bobby, kissed his shoulder.
Right now all that mattered was the man in front of him and Don soared with the knowledge that their story was just beginning.
Like a Prayer - Chapter 3
Previous - Next
Chapter Summary: Bobby and Don have a sleepover and lose their minds
Chapter Rating: M
Words: 4417
A/N: fun fact @strangethings-everywhere and I got so lost in the sauce this was originally a mega 10k chapter that we had to break down because otherwise woof 😂
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AO3
or
Don spent the hours before dinner in the library, already looking to get a head start on his homework. Usually he could distract himself pretty easily with work or the music blasting through his headphones but he couldn’t shake the tension in his body, the fear that he might see Bobby.
After what he’d heard, he wasn’t sure he could see the smaller boy so soon. Joe had an evening class so Don ate in the dining hall by himself before heading back to the dorm. He’d almost made it into his room when Bobby’s door flew open.
“Hume!”
Butterflies erupted in his stomach. “Y-Yeah?”
“Are you good at math?”
Don stared at him for a moment. “I guess so.”
“Thank god.” Bobby slumped against the door frame in relief. “I’m taking a math class this semester and I could use some help.” He moved back just a little. “Can you come look at this worksheet really quickly?”
His heart began to pound. Bobby was inviting him into his room, the room where he’d had sex not even twenty-four hours ago. Would he have to sit on Bobby’s bed? Would Bobby make more dirty jokes? Don felt like panicking but instead he nodded and followed Bobby inside.
“You can just toss your bag on the bed.” Bobby motioned to the second bed across the room. “I throw all my shit over there anyway.”
Don did as he was told, then hesitated, looking around the space. How Bobby managed to get a room all to himself was a question of its own, but his thoughts came to a halt when he saw Bobby’s bed. It had been made, a blue blanket covering the pillow, and Don’s mind drifted. The blanket must have been moved to the side the night before but then again, Bobby and his…companion had been frantic. Just managing to get their clothes off and little else.
“You can sit here,” Bobby jerked Don from his thoughts.
He slid a chair from the other desk next to his own, patting on the seat as if wiping off dust. Papers were spread across Bobby’s desk, a textbook flipped open and harsh scribblings lining the corners of the notebook page. Don sat, studying the equations, the haphazard note-taking of Bobby. There was no cohesion, Bobby’s thoughts jumping from one section to the next, different arrows connecting where his mind strayed.
“Yeah, the math makes no sense,” Bobby complained as he sat next to Don.
Their knees knocked together and Don tucked his legs further away despite the uncomfortable angle. He opened his mouth to say it was Bobby’s notes that didn’t make sense but instead chose to look over the textbook.
“Aren’t you in pre-law?” Don asked, flipping through the statistics textbook. “Why do you need a math credit?”
Bobby groaned. “I don’t know, I just do. College is stupid sometimes.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick out in all directions. “I’ve never been good at math and for some reason statistics is just hard.”
Don turned to his notes again. “You’ve got all these equations backwards, look.” He leaned over and pointed to a few equations with his pencil. “These symbols are flip-flopped so you were doomed to get it wrong from the beginning. Your graph will end up being completely wrong.”
“What are you talking about?” Bobby leaned closer and Don was suddenly hyper aware of Bobby’s breath on his neck. “I copied that right out of the textbook! And off the board!”
“Bobby… no you didn’t.” Don pointed at the textbook. “See?”
Bobby stared at him for a moment, then glanced back and forth between the textbook and his nearly incoherent notes. “Shit.” He muttered. “I did it again.” He dropped his head onto the desk with a thunk. “Thanks for pointing it out.”
“What did you do?”
Bobby sighed and glanced up at him. “I’m dyslexic, but specifically for numbers. It’s called dyscalculia.” He pointed at his page. “That’s why I got the equation mixed up, it just gets all scrambled in my head. I’ve never told anyone that before, so don’t go sharing it.”
Don smiled and nudged him gently with his shoulder. “I’m pretty good at keeping things quiet.”
“Is that why you’re so quiet?” Bobby smiled and nudged him back. “You’re keeping secrets?”
“Nah, I don’t have any secrets.”
“Bullshit!” Bobby laughed. “Everyone has secrets. C’mon, tell me one. Despite my normal volume, I’m good at keeping secrets too.”
Don’s laughter died in his chest as his most recent secret came to mind. I heard you jerking off in the locker room showers. Yeah, when you thought you were alone. I hid in a bathroom stall and waited silently the whole time for you to leave, like a creep, and I can’t stop thinking about it. “Um… I can’t think of one.”
Bobby got up and flopped down on his bed, limbs splayed out like a starfish. “Come ooooooooon, you gotta give me something. Okay, tell me something that your parents don’t know.”
“I don’t have one!”
Bobby sat up and stared at him. “Donny, come on. What about a… a time you skipped youth group or maybe you kissed a girl behind the bleachers or when you watched a movie you weren’t supposed to. Stuff like that! C’mon, it’ll be like the shit you tell each other at sleepovers.”
Don snorted. “I’ve never been to a sleepover before.”
Bobby’s jaw dropped. “You WHAT? Oh my god, I know what we’re doing.” He shot up and ran into the hallway. “JOE I’M KIDNAPPING YOUR ROOMMATE!”
“WHAT?”
“I AM STEALING YOUR ROOMMATE!” Bobby shouted.
Twenty minutes later, Don found himself sitting on the spare bed in Bobby’s room in his pajamas. He wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he had realized pretty quickly that arguing with Bobby was nearly impossible. After he’d given Don the extra set of sheets and blankets, Bobby plugged in a set of string lights above his bed and sat back down.
“Okay, back to your secrets.”
Don sighed. “Bobby-”
“Dude, think of this as coxswain/stroke bonding. Here, I’ll give you another one: I had a botched appendectomy when I was like five and it almost killed me.” Bobby lifted up his shirt and revealed a silvery scar on his right side just above his hip. Don wanted to know how it felt under his fingers. “No one knows that except Ulbrickson, Chuck, and Jim. See? That’s a good one.”
Don wracked his brain. Oh god. “I threw my brother’s toy in the garbage?”
This got him an unamused stare from Bobby and Don sighed, rubbing his neck. He didn’t have secrets. Not like that. Yes, there were some things just between God and himself but nothing earth-shattering.
“I…,” Don sighed, his mind bringing him to one glaring memory. “Okay, I broke the eighth commandment.”
Bobby’s eyebrows furrowed. “You murdered? Or you committed adultery?”
Don shot Bobby a glare, but Bobby’s cheeky smile was enough to make Don laugh a little.
“No. I stole. It was to impress some of the guys on the football team.”
He had been so nervous, just a freshman. In desperation to fit in, Don took the hazing without question. Looking back, he must have been obvious with his shifting glances and jumping at any small noise.
“All I took was a candy bar, but I couldn’t sleep for days. I was crying when I confessed to Father Ben.”
He expected Bobby to laugh, but instead Bobby offered a sympathetic gaze, a small nod. “Did he forgive you?”
“Yeah,” Don’s mouth twitched. “Not a half-bad lecture either.”
”Sometimes jocks can be jerks,” Bobby sighed. “Take varsity for example. They did whatever they could to get me kicked off the team. Turns out my own ego stabbed me in the back.”
Don frowned, glancing at Bobby for clarification. He was on the team now, but to have been demoted must have been hard enough.
“Most of Ulbrickson’s plans are flawless. It was a big race though and I just wanted us to get ahead, by any amount. I should’ve listened to him, but it didn’t help that varsity had their heads up their own asses.”
Bobby scowled, picking at the corner of his blanket. “God, you should’ve heard him yell. Never seen him so mad. So…disappointed. That’s what hurt. Seeing him lose faith in me.”
Don’s hand fell to his cross, fingers tracing the outline. In his darkest moments, Don had doubted, wondered if God had abandoned him. It was not unlike Bobby’s sorrow and Don swallowed.
“I know you’re not,” he paused, unsure of how to phrase it, “like me, but there’s this passage that’s come to mind, ‘I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.’ Ulbrickson’s given you a second chance. I don’t think he’s letting you go so soon.”
Don held his breath, waiting for Bobby to scoff or wave off his preaching. Instead, Bobby chewed on his lip, small nods as if he was soaking in all of Don’s words. When Bobby glanced up at Don, dancing in his eyes was understanding, gratitude.
“Means a lot to hear you say that, Donny.”
Don smiled. “Thanks? I think. Or do I say you’re welcome?”
Bobby laughed, then cocked his head. “I know it was an example that I gave earlier but have you ever kissed anyone? Girl, boy, I’m not judging. And yes, this is what people talk about at sleepovers.”
“N-No, I haven’t.” Don blushed, ducking his head. “Not yet, I guess.”
“Really?” Bobby looked shocked. “That’s a shocker. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything, but you’re a handsome guy, kinda hot actually. I’m surprised that you didn’t get swarmed the moment you stepped on campus.”
“What?” Don knew his mouth was hanging open like a fish but he couldn’t conceal his reaction.
“Don, did… do you not know how good-looking you are?”
Don wasn’t stupid, he sort-of knew. He’d watched the girls at church stare at him for most of his life, especially once he reached high school and gained a bit of muscle. Tall, broad shoulders, dark eyes; he knew people liked that sort of thing. He bit his lip. It was different to hear it from Bobby, something about his tone gave Don butterflies. “I… okay.”
***
Bobby wanted to scream. Don was sitting in his room, biting his fucking lip and fiddling with that damn cross necklace.
He wanted to bite him. Affectionately.
Ever since that first practice, he hadn’t been able to get over how beautiful Don was. He had memorized everything about him, from the way his eyes glowed in the sunlight to the freckles littered across his body like stars. His little bashful smiles, his constant frown, the way he’d looked absolutely sinful in that baggy white wet tank top. If Bobby were a church-going man, he would’ve started praying the minute he saw Don. He was definitely going to need some divine intervention to stay ‘just friends’.
He felt slightly guilty about jacking off in the showers, fully thinking of Don. He knew that there was little to no chance of getting anything sexual from Don, but a guy could dream, and he had been dreaming. He’d been fantasizing about those strong pianist hands with their long fingers slowly traveling over his body, burying his face in Don’s broad shoulders, yanking on that damn necklace. He barely knew the guy and he was already so fucked. Good job you idiot, pining for a guy who’s definitely not gay. Good fucking job.
Then, Don revealed he had never been kissed, didn’t realize just how fucking beautiful he was. He was the dictionary definition of humble and Bobby didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to ask Don if he could kiss him, see if maybe, just maybe, Don wasn’t as straight as either of them thought he was.
Of course, Bobby wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t scare Don off, not after all this. Not only would he regret losing one of the best strokes he’d ever seen, but Ulbrickson would probably chew him out for it too. No, he had to stay cordial, leave it at friendship. Maybe tomorrow he’d give Corey a call for a quickie.
“What about you?” Don asked, shy and quiet. “I mean, what was your first kiss like?”
Bobby paused, thinking over the question. Technically it was second grade when his friend pushed him into a girl, but Bobby didn’t always count that one.
“Middle school. At a dance,” Bobby laughed a little. “My first and only girlfriend. Just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”
“Was it nice?”
Bobby hummed. “It was fine. Nothing special. You know how the movies make it seem. All fireworks and breathless wonder. Nah, it was just…wet.”
Don choked at this, tried to cover his laugh but Bobby grinned and Don let a chuckle escape from him.
“Did better the next time I think. Really liked this guy. He was a football player. One of the first gay people I met. Everyone else gave him a hard time though.”
Bobby ran his fingers along his blanket, tracing swirls and other nonsense patterns. He had been downright terrified when he discovered this part of himself. Everything had told him it was wrong, but Adam— Adam had been his saving grace, the light at the end of the tunnel.
“Were you scared?”
Don was the one now full of questions but Bobby didn’t mind. Of all the religious people he had met, Don was one of the few to be curious rather than look at him with abject disgust.
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep. I’d cry almost every day, shoving it down, thinking it wasn’t who I was. Am. There were days when I thought about ending it all.”
He heard Don suck in a breath and Bobby glanced at him with a wry smile. “Always thought it was a bit funny what the Bible said you were going to hell for. Guess I check all the boxes, huh?”
Don’s face was blank, unreadable and it frustrated Bobby to no end. He wanted to know every little thought that passed through Don’s mind. If maybe he was starting to understand the other side.
“God is forgiving. Merciful,” Don fiddled with his necklace. “We’re all his children and that includes people like you.”
Bobby wanted to laugh, roll his eyes. How innocent Don was, trusting a faith that had turned its back on Bobby time and time again. But, if this was what got Don to see, then Bobby would take what he could get. Whatever it took to spend more time with Don.
“You wanna watch a movie?” He motioned to his laptop. “I got all the good stuff! Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Captain America but that’s mostly because Chris Evans is hot as fuck.”
Don shrugged. “I’ve never seen Star Wars before.”
“Wait what?!”
“My mom said that the Jedi were basically using witchcraft so it was banned in our house. I did sneak out my sophomore year to watch all of Harry Potter.” Don smiled. “There’s another secret for you.”
Bobby shook his head. “Damn, we’ve got a lot of work to do. New goal: un-shelter Donny. I’m gonna show you the wonders of the world before this semester is over.” He grabbed his laptop and motioned Don over. “Now come here and get ready to have your mind blown.”
Three and a half movies later, it was almost two in the morning and Bobby was wide awake, mostly because Don had fallen asleep on his shoulder halfway through Return of the Jedi. He could feel Don’s warm breath on his neck, his hair brushing against his cheek. The cold metal of the cross necklace was pinned between Bobby’s arm and Don’s chest. Don was a walking heater and usually Bobby would’ve shoved him off so he could cool down but he was frozen in place. If he woke Don up, he would freak out and Bobby might never get this experience again.
However, the feeling of Don’s muscular arm pressed against his body was starting to turn him on and that was not good. The right thing to do was push Don off and retreat to his own bed but… Bobby didn’t want to lose that feeling, the feeling of Don’s body against his. The cross felt like it was burning into his skin with every second that passed. He should move, he needed to move.
Suddenly, Don turned his head until his face was pressed into Bobby’s neck and let out a whimper. Every atom in Bobby’s body was vibrating, his brain on the verge of short-circuiting. Don made the noise again and Bobby had to dig his fingernails into his palm. If Don woke up, his thin pajama shorts weren’t going to hide a damn thing. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
With held breath and small, inching movements, Bobby tried to untangle himself from Don. If he could just slip off the bed, get over to the other one, then Don could figure out his own positioning in his sleep. Bobby winced with the dipping mattress and gently held Don’s face away from his neck.
What happened next, Bobby couldn’t have planned even if he tried. Don’s balance shifted and he fell onto his side. Somehow, he didn’t wake up and in his tumbling, Bobby caught himself, hovering above Don. He was almost sitting on top of him, his hands braced on either side of Don’s head. Swearing under his breath, Bobby lifted one hand, then the other. Now kneeling, Bobby had to make sure his groin didn’t touch Don’s hip. There wasn’t even a fraction of space between them and the temptation was dangerous.
Bobby swung his leg over, slid off the bed. He stumbled, catching himself on the mattress just as Don moaned in his sleep. If this was how he sounded just dreaming, Bobby couldn’t begin to imagine Don lost in pleasure.
Clearing off the spare bed, Bobby threw on the spare pillow and blanket, curling up and facing the wall. He was far from sleep, his growing erection doing little to help. Don’s face on his neck left a permanent mark, though invisible, and Bobby traced his fingers along his skin.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Bobby ran through lists in his head, thinking about puppies and kittens. It must have been pure exhaustion that stole him away, dragging Bobby into a mindless rest.
***
The rustling was subtle at first. Don wasn’t ready to open his eyes and he tried to follow the lingering sleep circling around him. Just as he was beginning to fade, there was that sound again. Don forced his eyes open despite their tired protests and he found himself staring at an unfamiliar wall.
The memories of the night before seeped in and the last thing Don saw was…teddy bears? Bobby said they were called something else but Don couldn’t remember for the life of him. Either way, he was in Bobby’s room. In Bobby’s bed. Don stiffened and felt behind himself. He was alone in bed, but then that left the question of where Bobby was.
There was a puff of breath and Don almost groaned. Bobby couldn’t seem to stop touching himself, especially when Don was around. Don knew he should just throw off the blankets, make a big show of going back to his dorm but he remained quiet, focused.
Bobby sighed, the blanket shuffling. If Don wasn’t listening with all his might, he would’ve missed the rhythmic movements. Subtle as they were, Don was starting to pick up on Bobby’s pattern. He wondered if Bobby still favored his right hand or if he was comfortable with his left. Don almost choked at this thought and he pressed his face into the pillow.
Bobby’s breaths were shorter and shorter, the bed just starting to move with him. It was as if Bobby didn’t care about anyone hearing him and Don toyed around with covering his ears. Instead, Don peeked over his shoulder before he could stop himself. Bobby was facing the opposite wall but his thin blanket had fallen down past his waist. The hem of his shirt was riding up and Don could see pale skin peeking out. His eyes trailed lower, admiring the perfect curve of Bobby’s hip, the smooth movements of his jerking arm.
Bobby came thrusting once, twice into his hand, a heavy sigh leaving him. Reality sunk back in and Don was quick to turn to the wall, pretending he was still asleep. His heart thudded in his chest, nausea twisted his stomach. Whatever God was testing him for, Don just wished it wasn’t like this. In between getting used to, becoming friends with Bobby, Don was being faced with depravity and lust. Bobby’s lust. Don had been good about taking care of his own.
Under his breath, Bobby grumbled, the bed creaking as he climbed off of it. Don closed his eyes, listened to the footfalls that trailed all over the room. Once he heard what he thought was the desk chair, Don dared to pretend he had just woken up.
“Morning,” Bobby smiled.
He was organizing his desk, already dressed in the day’s clothes. Nothing special, just jeans and a T-shirt, but the sight of exposed skin played over and over in Don’s mind. “H-Hi.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“You should probably get over to your room, we’ve got to leave for practice in like twenty minutes.”
That got his attention, finally distracting him. “Oh shoot.” He leapt out of bed, grabbed his stuff, and ran next door.
“DON JUST SAY SHIT NEXT TIME!” Bobby’s laugh followed him as he burst through the door and went straight for his dresser. Joe was already ready and watching a video on his phone.
“Hey man, how was your sleepover?” He asked with a grin. “I don’t think Bobby stopped talking until about two.”
Don opened his mouth to answer but was instantly bombarded with a replay of Bobby touching himself. “I… yeah, it was good. I watched Star Wars.” He yanked his shirt over his head and flashes of Bobby’s pale skin danced across his mind. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his gym bag and practically dragged Joe out of the building.
“Hey man, what the hell?” Joe grumbled as he followed Don out of the dorm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Don could hear the other boys behind them, Bobby’s voice among them. “I’m fine.”
And he was. He was fine for that practice and the next one and the one after that. He did well in his classes, received praises from Ulbrickson during practice, and went out to do things with his teammates.
Once a week, Bobby would steal him from his room for a mandatory cox/stroke sleepover and they’d stay up watching movies that Don had never seen before. If Bobby had touched himself during any of the other sleepovers, Don no longer woke up; between rowing, classes, and the weight room, he’d been wearing himself out. He would still have dreams about Bobby touching himself, about the curve of his hip and the silvery scar standing out against his pale skin, the noises that he made when he thought no one was listening.
He would wake up in a cold sweat every time, gripping the sheets for dear life. If he couldn’t go back to sleep, he’d slip on his shoes and go on a walk, praying to God for mercy and guidance.
Church was his sanctuary, more than it had ever been before. He’d walk through the doors early Sunday morning and lose himself in the familiarity of the sermons and hymns. The morning sun would shine through the stained glass window and bathe him in the colors, spreading over his body like a balm. He could finally breathe when he went to church.
At least, until recently.
He was a month into the semester when the sermon turned to homosexuality. It wasn’t any different from ones he’d heard before, but now he could barely stomach it. Bobby’s face kept flashing through his mind as the pastor went on and on with his fire and brimstone, his warnings of hell and sins of the flesh. They were doomed, they were going to hell, they were awful, on and on and on.
He could barely stomach another minute as the faces of his friends cycled through his mind. None of them went to church, but that didn’t make them bad people. Bobby was gay but that didn’t make him a bad person. He was confusing, hypnotizing, loud, and a million other things but he wasn’t bad. He could hear his parents screaming at him in his head, telling him to stay in the pew and muscle through, but he couldn’t. Don quickly gathered his things and bolted from the sanctuary.
As soon as he stopped walking, his phone rang. It was Bobby. “Hello?”
“Hey man! We… you okay? You sound out of breath, were you running? Aren’t you supposed to be in church? Oh my god, did you skip? Holy shit Don, what is going on?”
“I’m fine.” Don was a bit out of breath. “And I was at church, but I… left.”
“You left? Why?”
Because he was telling me that all gay people were going to hell and all I could think about was you and the way you smiled at me when we beat varsity in our first race against them, or the way you talk over every single movie we watch, or the way that you listen to everything I ever say with such curiosity and compassion that it makes me feel like I could talk to you forever. I was thinking about you. “I just didn’t like the sermon, I guess.” Don could practically feel Bobby’s disbelief through the phone. “I’m fine.”
“Liar. Do you want me to come pick you up? I’m out getting breakfast with a… a friend right now, but I could ditch real quick.”
“I’m fine.” Don pulled off his tie as he walked, trying to sound nonchalant. “Thanks anyway.”
“Alright,” Bobby sounded disappointed. “I’ll see you later I guess.” Don shoved his phone into his pocket and walked the rest of the way in silence.
Seven Sentence Sunday
Rule: Post seven(ish) sentences of your current WIP - or just a snippet who cares! And tag your writer friends to see what they're working on.
Tagged by @arokel !!! Thank youuuu!!
Uhhhh guess I can share more of my sci-fi long fic :d
This isn’t 7 sentences but shhhhhhh
There was chaos, fire, screams. Don saw his hands covered in blood, heard his name followed by crying pleas of mercy. One by one his friends fell until at last he saw Bobby.
Bobby with a gash in his chest, choked gasps around a mouthful of blood. Don reached out towards him, but before their hands could touch, Don was forced back into his body.
Tagging!!! @teaforarteza , @sparrow-in-the-field and @strangethings-everywhere !!!
Songs and Showers - George Mackay College AU
It’s the millionth time you’ve heard that singing voice coming from the boy’s showers in your residence hall and you just HAD to go investigate, no matter how awkward it was that you were sneaking into the boy’s bathroom in nothing but a robe... Based off this prompt: “You’re singing in our dorm shower, and I just wanted to let you know that you have a wonderful voice, also oops this is now awkward we’re both kind of naked” A/N: here’s that college AU that no one asked for, but I’m giving you anyway! Please enjoy! Wordcount: 1393 Warnings: cursing and i mean you two are both in the showers soooooo a lil steamy content
Masterlist
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It was almost like clockwork. You would speedwalk in your robe and flipflops to the girl’s bathroom at the same time every night. Communal living meant communal bathrooms and you hated it. You had been doing it for two years now and you couldn’t wait to get your own apartment.
You’d just miss that singing boy.
You showered so late in the evening that you were often the only one in the bathrooms. Whoever this young man was, he probably thought that no one could hear him. Whoever he was, you wished that you could just sit outside the showers and hear him sing until morning.
Or, at least until he was done showering. You always showered so quickly that you never got to hear the end of his song.
Today was no different than any other day. Your last class had ended at 8:30 (as usual), you had spent less time than you should’ve on homework (as usual), and then around ten, you decided to take a shower.
“Please be empty, please be empty.” You muttered, shuffling down the hallway as fast as you could. As the snap of your flipflops echoed down the hall, you could hear the soft sounds of your singing friend.
Your body seemed to slow down as his voice melted over your skin. It was like a warm blanket, something that comforted you after a long day. Hell, you didn’t even know the song he was singing but you adored hearing it every time.
Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You had no idea what he looked like, or what room he lived in. But GOD if you ever put a face to the singer, you had no idea what you would do. You so desperately wanted to meet him.
“Oh fuck it.” You threw your shower bag into one of the cubicles in the girl’s bathroom, adjusted your messy bun, and shuffled back into the hallway to the entrance of the boy’s bathroom.
It was still the same song, almost as if it was a ritual over and over again. As you made your way into the unknown territory that was the boy’s bathroom, you hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t notice you just yet. You so desperately wanted him to sing forever.
Unfortunately, you tripped over your flipflops.
He stopped singing and shut off the water. “Hello?”
Aw, shit.
The curtain rings echoed through the empty bathroom, followed by a few smacks of sandals against the wet floor. “Hello?”
Around the corner towards you came a tall young man in nothing but a towel and a pair of blue flipflops. Wet blond hair tousled and skin still dripping, he made eye contact with you and almost dropped his towel. It was George, from the room directly across from you. He was also in your film class and you had been in a play together. But you had no idea he could sing.
“MotherFUCKING CHRIST!” He shouted, instantly turning his back to you. You let out a little squeal of your own and looked away. “Y/N?”
“I uh, hi George.” You slowly turned around with a sheep smile.
“Great. Hi. What are you doing in the boy’s restroom?” George had a death grip on his towel and refused to turn around and look at you.
Here went nothing.
“Well, I’ve heard you singing in our dorm showers every night for weeks and I just wanted to tell you that your voice is beautiful. I suppose this is awkward now because we’re both…”
“Yeah.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “You really liked it?”
“I di-” Suddenly, the door opened. Quick as a whip, George grabbed your hand and pulled you into one of the shower cubicles, probably the one he had been using. He held a finger to his lips as the newcomer got into (of course) the cubicle right next to the two of you.
The two of you stood chest to chest, noses almost touching. His blue eyes studied your face as you tried to focus on everything except him. You knew that if you stared at his face, you’d blush so incredibly hard. He knew this too because he had a tiny smirk on his face.
George leaned in, placing his lips right next to your ear. “Why did you come in here? Just to tell me you liked my singing?”
“Yeah. I wanted to tell you in person.” You breathed. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”
George grinned, humming in satisfaction. “I don’t sing for just anyone.”
You felt as if you had electricity running through your veins. You had always found him handsome ever since the first day of class and you had often caught each other’s eye during play practice. You had never imagined that you’d find yourself hiding in a shower cubicle with him… basically naked.
Maybe in your deepest darkest dreams, but you had never imagined those dreams coming true.
“When we get out of here, eventually, can I hear you sing more?” You asked, shakily raising your hand to brush some of his hair from his face. George nodded, his eyes shut.
“You know, I’ve been waiting to talk to you since the play ended.” He murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I just haven’t gotten up the nerves to talk to you. I’ve seen you in the hallway, but I’d get so nervous.”
“I make you nervous?” You grinned. “How?”
George blushed. “Well, yeah. You’re so pretty and smart and whenever you talk in class-”
You cut him off by grabbing his face and pressing your lips to his. George grinned against your mouth, twisting his fingers into your hair. One of your hands snuck into his hair, grabbing at the wet strands. He let out a soft growl from deep in his throat, biting at your bottom lip.
“Fuck. George, we have to be quiet.” You hissed. One of his hands slid under your robe and squeezed your waist.
“Yeah, I know.” He murmured, pressing his lips to your neck. It was like fireworks, his lips lighting a flame under your skin and you loved it. As he nipped and sucked at the skin on your neck, you had to bite your lip to keep from making noise.
You two were so distracted by each other that you didn’t hear the shower turn off. It wasn’t until the curtain rings made their noise that you suddenly froze, George pinning you against the wall with one hand over your mouth, the other next to your head. His eyes slowly went from panicked to mischevious as he pushed the collar of your robe to the side and once again attached his lips to your neck. Your stomach was in knots, your knees positively weak.
“Hey man, um, I don’t mean to rain on your parade or anything but the RA is coming back to the hall soon and I’d take this somewhere different.” With that rather embarrassing warning, the other student makes his way out of the bathroom rather quickly.
George doesn’t move, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His shoulders began to shake as he laughed, the sweet sound echoing through the bathroom. He released you from his grip and leaned against the opposite wall, running a hand through his hair with a grin.
“I have never been more terrified but also excited at the same time.” You chuckled, your face heating up with a blush.
“Maybe we should take his advice and go somewhere else?” George raised an eyebrow.
That same intoxicating heat returned to the pit of your stomach at the idea of being with George alone. You dared to look into his eyes and saw them glazed over with that same feeling of desire, that dangerous lustful darkness. You smirked.
“Alright Mackay, but only if you sing to me. Plus I need to shower.”
“I’ll sing to you as much as you want.”
“It’s a deal.”
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