Taming The Lion

"Kent, stop beating off and get a move on!" The rap of Cain's knuckles is so sharp on his closed door that it makes Kent jump, missing the knot on his gym shoe for the third time in a row. He frowns in frustration, finally gets it, and goes to the door, his bro standing there with an impatient look on his face.

"Asshole, I wasn't beating off - and it's a twenty four hour gym, what's the rush?" Kent gives Cain a playful shove, snags his water bottle (that Cain has already, very thoughtfully, filled up for him.) "You got a date or something?" They head for the front door, the sun bright once they're outside. It's Saturday, Kent has zero plans except well...beating off. But he wants to get a whole other sort of pump on first. He thought Cassandra would be over this afternoon but she had to work, and she's the only one that Kent has liked enough to invite back twice. Six times now.

Cain just gives him a smirk, one that Kent knows means he isn't going to divulge anything, not now anyway. "For me to know, bro. It's chest day, you know it's my shit." Cain makes his pecs pop, his tee tight to his body like it was painted on. Kent looks for a second too long, he knows, just like he has been for a while now. "Up here, Kent."

"Stop flexing your rack, it's weird." Kent flips him off and they get in his worn Dakota, the seatbelt tight over Cain's chest. Up until a couple months ago, Cain was just his best friend, his roommate, beer pong partner and wingman. All of which during he was handsome. Really handsome. And Kent, or some part of his brain, had decided that Cain was handsome in a "I want to lick every part of him sort of way." And so far as he can tell, it's only Cain that has done it for him. He's tried to think about the other guys in the frat, and... nothing.

Just Cain.

And him making his pecs pop like that does absolutely nothing to lessen Kent's hot, quick lust for him. Seeing him naked, before, because Cain and shame aren't two things that can be found together, hadn't meant much. Being around naked guys isn't anything new for them, with as athletic as they both are. But now? Kent can't stop thinking about all the locker rooms, the walks of pride as he saw a girl out, the drunk shenanigans - the girls they've fucked together. All of which Cain and his gorgeous body and thick uncut cock had been on full, glorious display.

Kent hasn't beat off to anything else in fucking months now, and Cain has no idea. There's a chance, a very high one, that Kent is going to keep that information all to himself. Because why would he tell his bro that he's been popping at least three boners a day for him for half a year?

Cain talks about their workout all the way to the gym, apparently oblivious to Kent trying his best to keep his legs closed the whole time. His compression shorts aren't gonna hide much if he gets hard, and a good workout always leaves him horny as hell, and chest day? Guaranteed to give him Cain-shaped trouble. He's gonna have to think about the sharks they dissected in his marine bio class last week or his sister or something to keep himself under control. He nods and hums in the spots he's supposed to, trying to pay attention to the words coming out of Cain's mouth - but out of the corner of his eye, he also sees Cain's thigh, powerful as hell, muscled, and Kent really fucking wants to know what it feels like under his fingers. He tightens his grip on the wheel until his knuckles are white and they're at the gym, and Kent has to count backwards from five to get himself together.

"Wanna do a little cardio first?" Cain is already breaking for the stairmasters, and yeah, that's another problem. "Kent?"

"Just get on and start stepping, Cain." Kent deliberately takes the one in front, deciding that's worth the price of not staring at Cain's incredible ass and back for that long. Cain gives him a whatever, dude look and for a while at least, Kent can think about something other than his situation. The burn in his legs and lower body is distracting enough that right up until Cain appears and hands him the towel and cleaner, his thoughts are Cain-free.

Only now Cain is all sweaty and his shirt clings even harder. "Let's go, man." He claps a hand on Kent's shoulder, and off to the weight room they go. Kent hangs back just a step, watches Cain adjust his airpod in his left ear.

They take their turns, spotting, counting, coaching. Both being physical science majors, they are long familiar with how to get the most out of a workout routine. For a while, Kent is able to concentrate on that, his muscles, sculpting his body to what he wants. Even with the protein-heavy diet they share, he's still not as big as Cain is, and he's starting to wonder if he'll ever get there.

Maybe if he gets to keep Cain as a coach, he can. When Cain touches him to help his positioning, it sends a bright, electric thrill through his body. And Cain doesn't hold back when he does something right - Kent likes that.

"Alright bro - you spotted first last time, so it's my turn. Saddle up." Cain slaps the weight bench and bar, then starts adding. Throws on thirty additional pounds, since the last time was too easy. This is gonna be the most dangerous part, Cain with his crotch in his face, musky even from five feet away, and Kent laid out for the world to see if he gets hard. Hell, just watching the veins in Cain's arms has him halfway there already.

He makes it through his first three sets just fine, right up until Cain leans forward and blocks his vision completely, hand on his stomach to fix his posture - and Kent gets so hard so quickly that he feels lightheaded, and down the weights clatter on their support posts. Cain pauses, looks down at him - and then at Kent's very obvious boner.

"You good, bro?" He lifts his hand away from Kent's body and lets him sit up - of course a couple eyes darted their way when Kent dropped the weights, but no one is staring. He sits up, closes his legs, shame burning his cheeks - all of it from a purely involuntary reaction.

"Uh, I need water." He reaches down, hands shaking not as much from the weights as Cain's concerned proximity. Drinks enough to make his stomach hurt, too. Cain comes around and squats down, and the sound of his voice doesn't have a bit of teasing in it at all. "Bro, it's okay. Always seems to happen at a shitty time, don't they?" Rubs between Kent's shoulders, and it tightens and unravels the tension in his gut all at once.

"Yeah, guess so." He screws the cap back on, embarrassed beyond belief. "Gonna take a breather." The shame killed his erection just as fast as it happened, but his skin still feels like it's on fire just from Cain's focus being on him like this. "Uh, I'll be back to spot in a minute."

"Don't worry about it man - got my pump going hard enough for today. C'mon, it's lunch time anyway." Cain gives him a hand up, and after they wipe the bench down and re-rack their weights, they leave.

Kent gets back in his truck feeling like he fucked up, and Cain, for once, is silent. Kent can't look at him, afraid he will say something he shouldn't. Maybe they can pretend it didn't happen - or something. Kent is locking himself in his room when they get home anyway.

"Guess Cassandra was on your mind." Cain goes for casual, sloshing the water in his bottle. "I like her, bro, more than the last one." Gets quiet again, looking out the window, away from Kent. "She like you too?"

"Hope so, man." Cassandra. Yeah, definitely thinking about her. "Sorry it happened anyway, I just..." He doesn't have any way to finish that statement, not really. "Sorry."

"Man, it happens. I get hard all the time, especially with the supplements I'm on. Horny as shit, doesn't matter how often I try and fix it." Cain shifts, like he's trying to hide himself - and that does fuck all to calm Kent down any. "Fuck, sorry bro, figured you didn't want to know that."

Kent shrugs, rolling to a stop sign. "Not like I haven't seen it all before, man. Don't have a damn thing to hide." He tries for a reassuring smile, feels better when Cain grins back.

Balance restored, for now.

When they get home, neither one of them get out of the truck right away. Kent feels like there's something else that needs to be said, but it's hard to pin down exactly what. Maybe he should say sorry again, because while part of him is okay with Cain believing that it's his hook-up he's got on his mind, they both know they're bad at keeping shit from each other. Always have been. How the hell Kent has sat on his little secret for this long, he doesn't even know.

Cain sighs, rolls up the window before he turns to Kent. "You're still beat up about it, aren't you?" He turns to Kent, puts a hand on his thigh. "It's a boner, man, nothin' to worry about." Cain spreads his legs, pushes his hips up. "See? I'm chubbin' too. Workout always does it to me, nothin' wrong."

Kent really doesn't have a reaction beyond to stare, and when Cain drops his hand to cup himself, nothing is going to tear his eyes away from his crotch now. "Cain..." He touches himself, going for the direct route and plunging his hand in his shorts, unsticking his nuts from his thigh. If he's about to jerk off with his bro, then now is the time to say yes or no.

Cain groans, head leaned back. He's shiny with sweat, chest filling his tee, entirely too good looking for the sake of anyone. "I.. Kent, hey, I'm sorry if I did somethin' to make you uncomfortable earlier. I know something's up, but I didn't wanna say anything." Keeps cupping himself, and finally looks over at Kent. "You hear me?"

Kent looks right at him, biting his lip. "I can't stop thinking about you, Cain. Been in my fucking head so much lately, and when you got close earlier, touching me like that - I couldn't help it." He feels like his stomach is in his throat, spilling the secret like it's got a life of its own. "You keep turning me the fuck on and I can't make it stop."

He's ready for Cain to knock his teeth out, lower some slur at him, anything that tells him fuck off - which is why it catches Kent all the more by surprise when Cain wraps a hand around the back of his head and reels him in, mouth closing with his own in what has to be the single most spectacular first kiss that Kent has ever experienced.

The first thing that Kent notices is just how soft Cain's lips are, softer than any girl's he's ever kissed. The insistent, strong press of a male jaw to his, equal in power and urging him to go for more. Kent hums, finally kisses back, gasping when Cain's tongue dips into his mouth. It kicks his heartbeat up even faster, and he leans across the seat, meeting Cain motion for motion.

They break for air, and Kent finally gets bold enough to put his hand on Cain's thigh. "I hope like hell you aren't doin' that just to humor me."

Cain grins, fingers cupping Kent's jaw. "Bro, I've had it bad for you for a while now. Noticed you staring at my tits a whole lot and felt really fuckin' good that there was a chance you might want the same thing." He kisses him again, and Kent's brain finally manages to form the word move.

"Got a nice set of tits, Cain." He puts his hand up on Cain's chest, feels his heartbeat pulsing under his fingers - it gratifies him that Cain is feeling just as nervous as he does. "Thought you'd know by now I'm a tit man."

"The hell do you think I was so excited about chest day?" Cain licks his mouth, cants his chin towards the front porch. "Wanna go inside and get a closer look for yourself?"

Kent doesn't have to be told twice.

Kent is pretty sure that he's never beat it to his own front door so quickly before, and Cain waits just long enough for him to lock it, and then he's pulling him back in for another kiss. Cain's a couple inches shorter than him, but the strength he kisses back with - they may as well be on equal footing. Up close, with nothing to lose, Kent can inhale all the musk he wants, breathing deep through his nose as he Cain fucks out his mouth with his tongue. Shoves a little harder than he thought he would against the wall, and Kent realizes he can fucking take it. This isn't a girl he's kissing - it's Cain, his best fucking bro who just put him through a hell of a killer chest workout. Kent moans, grabs a double handful of ass, their hips grinding together. The silky smooth of their gym shorts feels fucking incredible, and he'd be perfectly fine standing there, rubbing off and creaming his pants with Cain's tongue in his mouth.

But it'd be a hell of a waste to not get a better feel of that body for himself. Kent breaks the kiss off, and drags them off in the direction of Cain's room. Cain stops them inside the door, kicking his shoes off and stripping really fucking fast, with Kent doing the exact same thing. That body is a visual feast, one that Kent hopes like hell he's gonna get to spend a long fucking time worshiping. Cain looks over his shoulder, turns to hold out his hand to Kent.

"C'mon, bro - not gettin' anything done standing over there." Their fingers twine together, and Cain puts him on his back, wrists pinned above his head. Kent moans, his cock hard and sliding against Cain's. It's so, so different from a girl, used to feeling the wet of her pussy like this but it's not there, it's heat, iron hardness, balls that aren't his touching his cock where they grind together. It's enough to drive him six kinds of wild, and he's pretty fucking sure Cain knows it too.

Cain sucks on his lower lip, moving to his neck. "Now that I've got my hands on you, fuck if I know where I want to start." Runs his fingers through Kent's hair, over his body. "Can I just say somethin'? I fucking love the progress you've been makin'. Think it hit me that I was into you when you ripped your fucking jeans from squats." Down and down his hands go, over his lats, down to his hips. "Kent, baby - I want your ass." He nips at his stomach, and Kent fucking howls.

Thing is, nothing is for nothing. Kent stops his hands, their cocks leaking all over each other - he didn't know Cain got super wet like he did. "What makes you think I don't get something too?"

"Anything man, fucking name it."

Kent lets go of Cain's hands and puts them on his chest, spreading out his fingers, squeezing those fucking pecs that have been driving him crazy for so fucking long now. "These, Cain." Rubs his palms over Cain's big, dark nipples, months of fantasies about seeing how sensitive they are flooding through his brain. Cain mouths a soft fuuuuuuck as he rolls them between his fingers, figures out that it's as good a handful as Cassandra's c cups.

"Your tits are way better than Cassandra's, by the way." Kent fucking means it, too. More than that, Cain pushes his chest into his hands, wanting more. Kent's pretty sure he won some sort of lottery today, listening to Cain moan like that. They keep their eyes locked with each other, until Cain finally gets his brain back online, wrapping the fingers of his right hand around their cocks - and that feels really, really fucking good too.

Something tells Kent that he's going to enjoy the hell out of guy love, especially since it's Cain he's doing it with.

"Think I know how we can both get what we want." Cain leans down and kisses him, covering Kent's body with his. He locks his arms and legs around him, and then just as suddenly, Kent is on top, Cain's hands on his hips to make him sit up. "Turn around, babe" - Kent already likes that term, a lot - "and don't worry about me not breathin'. Sit on my face like I'm about to eat your pussy." That comparison, that fucking vision - it makes Kent's stomach go all hot. He's never had his ass eaten before, but hell if he's going to stop Cain from doing it to him now.

"Never done this before," Kent says, and his hands go right back to Cain's chest, as good an anchor point as it is a view. "You sure you're oh fuuuuuuck. " Cain's tongue, wet, hot, just licked all the way across his hole, and his fingers digging into his hips tells Kent he'd better not fucking move. He gets hungry, aggressive with it, and yeah, they're might be a little bit of an effort involved in not fucking coming yet. He isn't sure where this is going to fucking lead, but if it ends with Cain's dick in his ass, he's not going to be angry it happened. He's had girls use fingers on him before, but never something as big as Cain.

Kent takes his right hand off of Cain's chest and leans forward to touch his cock, which is way thicker in his hand than it looks. Jerks him slow, watches his foreskin move up and down with each motion. It's breathtaking, the veins, the pink, pink head, his pubes trimmed close to the skin. Kent leans down, shoving his ass back in Cain's face - the muffled groan of contentment, yeah, that's a good sign.

"I'm gonna suck your cock, bro." Kent feels the dig of fingernails, and he's choosing that as a go for it. He dips his head, licking across Cain's weeping slit at first. He's watched girls go down on him plenty of times, and he figures that so long as he keeps teeth out of it, he should be fine.

Getting just the head of Cain's cock in his mouth is a challenge, big in a way he didn't expect. He eases his mouth and throat down, concentrating as much as he can, considering that in addition to his tongue, Cain's using fingers on his hole now too. In, out, they slide, as Kent does his best to suck his dick. He's an old hand at 69ing, but normally he's in Cain's position.

He doesn't hate it, not at all, not if this reversal is going to taste this good. Cain's cock tastes like the salt on his neck, and Kent doesn't hate that either. He finally finds somewhat of rhythm, managing about half of Cain's thick shaft in his mouth, and since Cain isn't yelling at him to stop, he must be doing something right.

Cain's fingers go deep once, touching a spot, and Kent bolts upright. "You good?" Cain's voice, rough with lust, comes across in a haze. "Kent?"

"You just found my prostate." Kent's whole body just broke out in goosebumps, and they amplify when Cain does it again. Christ, he knew he had it but it's the first time he's ever had it just fucking nailed like that - and the way it just made his cock go brick hard, yeah, they probably need to move. "Fuck, Cain, we need to-" He looks around, sees the box of Magnums sitting on Cain's nightstand. He grabs them, rips one off, and opens it, turning around to face Cain. "We're doing this," he breathes, placing the rubber on Cain's hard, hard cock, leaning down to kiss him as he rolls it on. Cain sits back up and meets him halfway, moving Kent until he's on his back again and his legs are spread wide for him, three fingers sliding into make sure he can handle him.

"You'll tell me to stop if it hurts?" Cain lubes himself up, then puts more on Kent's hole. Kent looks up at him, slides a pillow under his hips.

"Oh, it's gonna hurt - but don't you dare fucking stop."

Kent, even with as much bravado as he can muster, knows there's no going back from this. The first hot, blunt press of Cain's dick to his hole is a life altering moment, and he feels... overwhelmed as Cain pushes in. The stretch, holy fucking shit, it's like he's being split open by a telephone pole, for all the comparison he's got. Cain eases in, bit by bit, the lube doing as good of a job as it can. Now he knows why the girls that Cain brings home are always so fucking loud, why they are when he's been there with him. Kent hasn't shut up since Cain got halfway in, and it's only after that point that he makes himself relax.

And then, once he's bottomed out, Kent feels so fucking full, he can't imagine what the problem was in the first place. Cain's inside him, all the way, and he's kissing the shit out of him to sooth it over. They stay like that for a long, long moment, until Cain starts to move and things go from good to really fucking great, his girth pushing buttons that Kent didn't know he fucking had. It's a glorious burn of a feeling, one that shoots all the way down to his toes and back again, fires licking at the back of his neck and over his gut. Cain knows what the fuck he's doing, fucking him good and steady, not so fast that he rips Kent apart.