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“No. That's it, man, I'm done with you and your shitty driving.”
Jackson crawled over to Danny's Xbox 360 and hit the power button, rolling his eyes as his friend tossed his controller on his back. “Ow. Stop acting like you're twelve, asshole. You can't steer a warthog at all. I wasn't going to spend another mission with you trying to figure out how to stop driving into rocks.”
“Yeah, because you're so much better at it.” Pulling his legs up onto his bed, Danny flopped backwards onto the mattress, his heels digging into the very edge. Even with the thinly veiled annoyance in his voice, he was still wearing a smile. A small one, tucked away in the corner of his mouth. “There's a reason you were riding shotgun. Even though you've got pretty shitty aim, too.”
The other boy followed him up with a clearly unimpressed look on his face, eventually sitting up against the headboard. He rolled his head in Danny's direction and raised a brow. “Yeah, well, I don't get practice by sniper-camping.”
Danny dug the crown of his head into the mattress to look up at Jackson, his forehead a mess of wrinkles due to his arched brows. “I don't camp.” Defensive. Offended. Of course he camped. No way was anyone going to buy that, so he finished with a, “You can't exactly kill Brutes with a sniper rifle on foot. But whatever. At least I didn't die a hundred times. An hour.”
Rolling sideways off of the bed, he caught himself before he hit the floor and pushed himself up onto his feet, padding over to the Xbox to retrieve the last two beers still in the heavy plastic rings. Danny pulled one of them out, tossing it into Jackson's waiting hands, before taking the last for himself. His smile was still there – damn near ever-present, though it'd gotten wider in the last few moments and carved a dimple in his cheek. “Watching you get your ass kicked is only hilarious for the first few maps.”
“Yeah, maybe if I spent more time shooting twelve year olds over Xbox Live instead of getting laid, I'd be as good as you,” Jackson murmured into his beer before taking a long sip. His tone was a little defensive, too, but there was no denying he was joking. Mostly. Danny probably got more action than he did lately. The thought infuriated him on multiple levels.
“Oooh, ouch.” The beer popped and fizzed in his hand before he took a long drink out of the can. “You've been waiting all night to get to use that one, haven't you?”
Danny sat down on the edge of the bed again, shoulders curved inward as he twisted around to glance over at Jackson. “It's called 'time management.' That's how I can be the best goalie Beacon Hills has ever seen, make decent grades, and get laid while still having time to shoot twelve year olds over Xbox Live.”
“Right, sorry. Not like I'm the best lacrosse player we have period, have better grades than you do, and have Lydia Martin trying to get me to go out with her.” Jackson paused to take another drink, tapping his index finger on the can even as he settled it against his stomach, held between two hands, bare feet crossed under his legs. “Before you start, I know it's a bad idea. But it'll look fantastic.”
“It'll look typical. And boring.” Danny chuckled at that, somehow maintaining his smile while he took another sip. “Plus, Lydia's way too good for you. Then again you only ever like people totally out of your league.”
The look he gave Jackson meant only one thing, and they both knew it.
Me, for example.
Jackson narrowed his eyes. “Everyone is in my league,” he said after working his tongue over his teeth. “Don't shove your I-can't-deal-with-the-fact-I-want-to-fuck-my-best-friend issues on everyone else. People might realize you're an asshole, too.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Danny grinned now, grabbing for his legs to fold them on the mattress again. He loved teasing Jackson way too much to just let it rest. Instead, he pushed forward, pulling himself up onto his knees to crawl toward the headboard. “Maybe you'll start to believe it one day. I couldn't want to fuck you less than I do right now; trust me. I could prove it to you.”
“Bull. Shit.” Setting down his beer on the nightstand, Jackson shifted onto his knees, sitting back on his heels and facing his friend. “I've never actually tried to get you, Danny. You wouldn't stand a chance otherwise. I've gone to your club with you enough times to know I'm every gay man's wet dream.”
Danny looked at him, his face suddenly absent of expression save for a slight arch of his brows. “I'm not every gay guy, Jackson. Way to generalize.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Oh, don't give me that crap, dude. Just don't. I know that, okay? I was there when you finally decided to come out to our friends and they didn't believe you.” The entire situation had been so awkward it was almost funny. It would have been if it hadn't been something so personal to his best friend. “Fact: I am an incredibly hot guy. Fact: if you're a gay guy, you definitely have some appreciation for hot men. Ergo...”
Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest and flopped back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling angrily. “Whatever, man. You can't prove a damn thing. You'll cave eventually.”
“Yes, I can,” Danny said, his tone full of an almost smug surety. This was a game he knew how to play under unfamiliar circumstances. He'd never considered screwing with Jackson to this extent, but he had a point and the strong desire to show him he was right. “I can prove to you right now you'd cave before I ever did. If you're so sure it'd be the other way around.”
“Of course I'm sure.” The heels of Jackson's palms dug into the mattress, giving him the leverage to sit back up again. “I don't give in. People always want me more than I want them.” One shoulder bobbed in a lazy shrug. “Can't blame them.”
Danny's eyes went rolling. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Right. Because you haven't been the one getting in my personal space for the past, what? Three years? That's been all me.” Twisting around, he set his beer on the nightstand after taking one last lengthy drink and turning towards Jackson again, this time facing him. “We'll see who caves first. You face me. I face you. First one to touch the other person loses. The end.”
“Gay chicken? Seriously? The game you play to make half the seniors question their sexuality?” Getting up onto his knees again, Jackson scooted even closer than was normal for your average game, giving Danny a smirk and a tilt of his head. “Any other ground rules, Will-of-Steel, or are we just going to wing it until you stick your tongue down my throat?”
“Those are the only rules. I like playing fast and loose with the law; might as well let you try to seduce me with a few words.” Danny's wide mouth twisted at the corner. “But that means I get to talk, too.”
“Oh, it'll be my pleasure,” the shorter boy purred, swiping tongue over his lower lip, heated gaze leisurely making its way all the way down to Danny's thighs. They were up on their knees, Danny a few inches taller, their bodies half a foot apart, maybe more.
Jackson moved a little closer, eyes staying focused on his broad chest as he extended his hand, hovering it above Danny's stomach, close enough to feel the heat of his body and vice versa. “Why do you have to be so stubborn about this?” His voice was rougher now, already tinged with the slightest bit of arousal, not that he registered that. “I'd let you top me. You can't tell me you wouldn't get off on drilling me into your bed.”
Instead of laughing at Jackson for his offer, Danny stared across at him. It was a game; Jackson making it sound like he would be doing him a favor was bait. Bait Danny wasn't interested in taking. So he lifted his hand, too, fingers hovering only an inch away from Jackson's forearm. As he spoke, his hand moved upwards, shifting just above his skin. He did have a lot of experience with this game; it was his favorite to play with people who interested him. Not that he'd ever tell Jackson that.
“Yeah, I'd get off on it, but that's not a one way street. You'd be the one I was fucking.” His bottom lip snagged between his teeth, only letting go when the tip of his tongue rolled over it. “Hard, too. You just wouldn't feel right once I pulled out.”
Jackson swallowed the lump in his throat, chest heaving in a deep breath. He'd seen Danny do this what felt like a million times. Every dirty word, every shift of his hand, every smolder he gave, Jackson knew thoroughly just from a few parties. It was different being the one under that gaze. He felt his heart stutter oddly, but it was ignored. This wasn't his first rodeo, either.
“Maybe I'd just have to take matters into my own hands if you left me empty,” he whispered, dilated eyes looking up at him through thick lashes. His plush lips parted as he rose up further and leaned in, fingers ghosting dangerously close to the skin of Danny's inner wrist. There was a sharp intake of breath – his own – and he passed his tongue over his lips, letting out a quiet, unforced mm. “Fingering myself, moaning your name. There's a good chance I've already had practice doing both.”
Danny wasn't a good liar. There was a good chance that later on he'd have to admit just how dry his throat went at having Jackson so close. Hopefully he wouldn't ask.
“I hope so.” He pitched his voice lower and tilted his body closer to Jackson's, his eyelids drifting down though the line of sight was never broken. “If you hadn't, you wouldn't have any window of comparison when I get my fingers in you, too. Working you just as hard and then getting your dick in my mouth.” His hand moved from Jackson's arm to his face, his fingertips twitching so close to Jackson's skin. “Bet you haven't done that on your own. And you've never been sucked off by someone who knows what it feels like.”
A moan left him. One Jackson quietly stifled with a bite of his lip, but the damage was done. Danny was smirking, a dimple carved deep into his cheek. He was being fucked by his friend's eyes. He could feel it. It made his body clench and ache and his cock twitch. He wanted to be touched so badly, he let himself brush the palm of Danny's hand as he shifted closer. They both shared a look, but neither said a thing about it.
Jackson pointedly ignored the flutter of far more innocent butterflies at the sensation and focused on getting the lustful ones back.
“I want you,” he rasped, voice so heavily laced with arousal he could hardly recognize it any longer. It started out as a ploy, but it didn't take Jackson long to realize he was being completely honest. “Please. Forget the game. You- you make me so hard. I need to know what that feels like. Fuck-- fuck, your mouth is so--” He lifted his hand, mouth falling open as he nearly brushes his fingers over Danny's lips, still playing by the rules, but wanting more than anything to just crack. “I just want your cock in me, Danny. Fuck me, I swear I'll never even mention it. Just. Fucking. Take me.”
Right under Jackson's fingertips, Danny's tongue ran over his bottom lip. His eyes were so dark Jackson couldn't see how blown his pupils were, even despite his brightly lit room. In his head, Jackson was just screwing with him. It sounded real. Felt real. But he couldn't get himself to look down between his legs to see if it was real. This was a game, and Jackson was naturally good at just about anything. All it took was knowing the rules.
“Maybe I'd want you to mention it,” Danny drawled out before chewing on his lip again. He released it slowly, eyes flicking over Jackson's face. “Maybe I'd want it to happen more than once. In this bed, in your car, in the locker room. If you let me fuck you, I'd wanna tell everybody. Especially Lydia.”
That was enough to finally break Jackson's competitive streak.
Whatever inhibitions the captain of the lacrosse team might've had at seeming desperate or giving away just how badly he really wanted his best friend completely disappeared in the wake of images of Danny fucking him anywhere and everywhere and everyone knowing about it.
His hands grabbed Danny's face, cupping his jaw, and before the taller boy could even register what was going to happen, Jackson was pressing their lips together in a heated kiss, sliding forward until their bodies were pressed together and Danny could feel just how hard he was, erection pressing up against his stomach. Already split lips opened further to accommodate his friend's lower lip, sucking on it roughly and reciting a mantra of pleasedon'tpushmeaway in his head.
Danny responded in turn. His body was already running hot, and he was harder than he'd been in months, forcing his hips to rock forward when he felt Jackson's bulge against his stomach. The pressure of his cock rubbing against Jackson's thigh forced a moan into his mouth, quieted when Danny's tongue pressed into his mouth.
Neither of them wanted the other to pull away. Not after being so close, hearing what Jackson had to say and realizing that maybe it wasn't all the game. Maybe some of it was the truth. If Jackson was willing to lose at anything, there had to be some sincerity behind his words.
That was enough.
That was enough for Danny to grip his shoulder and push him back, but not away. Enough to hook a leg around him and flip him over onto his back, a surprised look registering only to melt into nothing but closed eyes and blotchy red cheeks when he straddled his hips. Pressing his hand to Jackson's chest, Danny stared down at him, lips parted and red and his eyes fierce. “You still want me to fuck you?”
Jackson's hands shot out to the other boy's hips, gripping tightly as his body reacted to everything. The way the bulge of his cock brushed against his ass before he lifted his hips up more, his piercing eyes, the low rumble of his voice and a cock as hard as his own.
“Yes.”
The word was little more than a breathy moan, but just in case Danny didn't hear him, he grabbed hold of his belt and pulled him closer. “God, you- you have to. Don't leave me like this; I need you in me. Nn-never been this hard.” Jackson slid his hands up Danny's shirt, over the firm musculature, sinking his teeth into his lip as he hitched the fabric off higher, running his fingertips over flesh he saw almost daily but never got to touch.
Danny's hand found Jackson's wrist, and he wrapped his fingers around it, sliding Jackson's hand away from his stomach. His touch was hot and left a path of warmth in its wake, but he knew he was only doing what he had to do.
As he guided his hand away, Danny leaned down close. So close his chest rubbed against his, hips pressed together, nose nearly brushing against his. When he spoke, his voice was so thin his words might have snapped on his lips if he wasn't careful. But he was careful, pitching it low and slowing his whisper down. “You really suck at this game.”
All of the tension that had been slowly easing out of him came back in a flash. Danny may have been bigger, but Jackson was no lightweight; he shoved him off to the other side of the bed roughly, hurriedly sitting on the opposite side, rolling his aching shoulder, muttering a harsh fuck under his breath, bowing his head low and lacing his fingers behind it. He'd never felt so stupid in his entire life.
“What?” Danny's voice rose sharper than he intended, and he cleared his throat just after, blinking at Jackson's back at the harsh treatment. “Did you think I was gonna change my mind? It was hot, but I'm still not interested.” He could do half-lies. Or half-truths. Or half-anything, as long as he wasn't throwing out statements so wholly wrong they stuck to the roof of his mouth. And he felt bad. There was a definite tug in his chest to match the ache between his legs, but it wasn't about Jackson pushing him away. It wasn't about empathy; it was about curiosity and maybe an early twinge of regret. “You know that, so why are you acting like you don't?”
“Forget it. I get cranky when I get blue-balled. Sorry I pushed you.” The apology was uncharacteristic, but all Jackson could think about was getting home. He just needed to get off. Maybe he could call his ex for one more fuck before he went over to Lydia's to ask her out. This didn't mean anything. It was just a game that went too far because of a few beers and Danny's penchant for rubbing his victory in his face.
He got up and started shoving binders into his backpack. “I should get out of here anyway,” he said, rolling up the practice gear he changed out of and packing it in his gym bag, zipping it up roughly. His throat was burning, making it hard for him to speak, so he kept his lingering thoughts to himself.
“Whatever,” Danny murmured, leaning back against his headboard and curling his arms around his waist. The word wasn't mean-spirited. It wasn't apathetic. It was low-key and rolled off of his tongue as his heels dug into his mattress. He watched Jackson's back as he packed his bag back up, and his eyes remained glued to him even after he stood up. He hated feeling like a jerk, so he put on his best little smile and tilted his head to the side when Jackson turned around. “I'll see you at school.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Jackson tried to keep his strides steady and even as he left, but by the time he saw the entryway, he didn't even bother saying goodbye to Danny's mother.
He didn't go straight home. There was too much going on in his head. He kept replaying it over and over again, how Danny's hand had felt on his cheek in that accidental brush, the solidness of his body over him, how literally every single inch of his body seemed to ache for his friend's touch.
The line between friend and lover had always been blurry for him. Always. It was difficult not to have feelings for a guy like Danny, and even moreso for Jackson. Danny was the only person he really trusted, really felt affection for. It was alien to him, and now he was a jumbled mess. He'd never wanted anything so badly in his entire life, but now as the lust was giving way to shame, he couldn't pinpoint why.
Why would he be stupid enough to think that Danny would want him? Really, truly want him. It'd never happen. It never will. He's your friend, Jackson, that's it. There's hundreds of other guys that he knows would treat him better.
It wasn't like he actually wanted a relationship with him anyway. Danny was just... the one that kept getting away, being stubborn. That's all.
They'd get back to school and it'd be like nothing happened. Because nothing will happen.
Jackson sped up and tried not to think about it.