Miles had won the bet. Things hadn’t exactly been fair considering he’d been playing soccer for far longer than Brayden, but Brayden had just given a tiny knowing smile and shrugged when Miles scored his fifth goal. Which meant that Brayden’s dirty dice were coming out.

Sitting on Brayden’s bed now, that same knowing smile being turned on him, Miles got the distinct impression that Brayden had purposefully thrown that specific bet out knowing he would lose. Which probably meant he wanted to progress things past the necking they’d been doing in Miles’ car after practice.

Excitement warred with nerves in Miles’ chest. He wanted this. Oh, god, did he want this. But he wasn’t like Brayden. He hadn’t flitted back and forth between the drama club and the soccer team, blowing every boy who pulled free his dick. His experience was limited. Seriously limited compared to Brayden’s.

Brayden plopped his senior level English textbook onto the bed between them, the dark purple cover with its abstract art suddenly intriguing to Miles. Two black dice with white lettering came next, the words blow and dick mocking Miles where they’d landed face up.

If he got that one, he was going to embarrass himself because the one and only time he’d ever had his mouth on a dick, he’d accidently bitten down when the man had grabbed his head and tried to force himself straight down Miles’ throat. He’d been fourteen, the other guy twenty, and it hadn’t ended well. Screaming, shouting and a bruise the size of a fist blossoming on Miles’ cheek the next morning that he’d claimed had been from falling out of bed when his parents had asked.

He’d been too nervous to try again after that, not wanting to feel the pressure of a hard fist or the mocking laughter that had followed. Too shy to talk to boys he was interested in, he’d thrown himself into schoolwork and practice to get his mind off of it all, jerking off to posters in his room and dreaming up scenarios where he wasn’t as inexperienced as he was. It had been satisfactory enough.

Up until Brayden had followed him out to his car one day after soccer practice early this season, sat in Miles’ passenger seat with that adorable little grin before rocking Miles’ world with a make-out session that had far surpassed the few Miles had had before.

“We’re going to use this one too,” said Brayden as he sat on the other side of the book, one leg pulled up onto his navy comforter.

Miles looked up at the third die Brayden held out. He plucked it out of Brayden’s fingers and turned it around. “It’s blank.”

That smile grew, all-knowing and perfectly kissable. “It is. Until you roll it.”

Miles laughed a little. “What?”

Brayden leaned forward conspiratorially. “I got it from the basement of that shop on the corner in town. You know the one next to the pizza place? They carry all sorts of spelled crap.”

Miles laughed again, this time for real. “You don’t believe in that shit, do you?”

Brayden looked wounded, but he just shook his head and gave a shrug. “Watch.” He gathered the three dice and rolled them between his palms, completely unaware of how hard Miles’ heart had started pounding in his chest.

This was happening. Really happening.

The dice dropped. One blank, the other two reading touch and neck, respectively. Miles blinked, felt his mouth drop open as the blank die swirled, a maroon color rising up out of the white blankness, forming a symbol that looked like a ticking clock.

Brayden gave a chuckle and reached over. The first graze of his fingertips had Miles closing his eyes, sinking into sensation. Brayden didn’t press harder, his fingers continuing their slow stroking, gently moving over every inch of Miles’ neck. He lost himself in that touch, breathing deep to remember the way Brayden tasted, the small noises he’d make when Miles would rub his tongue in just the right way.

When Brayden pulled away, Miles sighed and opened his eyes, conscious that his cock had swelled thickly in his jeans. Brayden wore that sweet smile, the one that Miles had pretended not to stare at since Brayden had joined the team.

“Red is the clock,” volunteered Brayden. “Can’t roll the dice again until the color is satisfied.”

“The clock?”

“It’s timed. Do what the dice say until the time runs out.”

Miles cocked his head. The white die was once again blank. “That’s it?”

“Well,” hedged Brayden with a suggestive expression. “It’s spelled, so that’s not completely it. It’s not like normal where if you don’t obey the dice it’s whatever.” He shrugged a shoulder. “You don’t obey the dice with the third and you get the nastiest case of painful muscle spasms in your dick. My sister says the same things happen with girls, just with, you know, their parts.”

“I…see. But it’s just a time limit thing?”

“Red is.” Brayden wiggled an eyebrow. “It’s one of the tamer ones.” He picked up the dice and dropped them into Miles’ hand. “Your turn.”

Miles rolled the dice around in his palm for a moment. “Nothing gross, I hope.”

Brayden laughed. “No, no. No piss drinking or anything like that. I swear it.”

“Okay.” Miles rolled the dice. Nipple. Suck. Orange.

Brayden made a happy sound and ripped off his shirt, tossing it on the ground unceremoniously. Miles let his gaze linger longingly over Brayden’s torso, at the perfect lines of young muscle, not as defined or as large as his own, but still plenty enough to enjoy. Brayden was lean too, not the fastest player on the field, but he held his own.

The brown of Brayden’s nipples called to Miles, practically begging to be touched and sucked and flicked. How many times had he dragged his fingers over those disks, cursing the fabric of Brayden’s shirt? And now he’d get to do more than touch.

He leaned over the textbook, bending his head towards one nipple. He licked it once, experimentally, then nipped it with his teeth.

Brayden laughed a little. “It said suck.”

“I’m getting there,” muttered Miles.

He took Brayden’s nipple between his lips and sucked lightly, playing with the tiny nub with his tongue and feeling very proud of himself when Brayden gasped and pushed against him. He got his hands on Brayden’s skin on the pretext of holding him still. Brayden shuddered underneath his hands, lifting one of his own, then dropping it as if he didn’t know what to do.

Miles didn’t release Brayden’s nipple until it was good and hard. As hard as Miles’ dick. Then, without lifting his head, he quickly moved to the other, circling it with his tongue before laving over it. When he started to suck in earnest, probably causing a bite of pain, Brayden grabbed his head.

“Miles, Miles, stop, it’s hurting. I’ve got to…”

As Miles pulled off, flushed from both arousal and embarrassment at having fucked up so soon on something so simple, Brayden shifted and pushed down on his cock with a painful expression.

“Take your shirt off,” insisted Brayden. “Quick, quick.” He motioned with his hands.

“What?” Miles stared at him with a blank face, not wanting to show the turmoil going on inside.

“Orange. It’s orange.” Brayden pushed the textbook further onto the bed and was up on his knees, one hand trying to pull up Miles’ shirt. “Reciprocation. If I don’t, I get the brunt of it. Come on, Miles. Shirt. Off.”

Miles obeyed, pulling up his shirt. He’d barely gotten it over his head when Brayden’s mouth was on his nipple and his lean body was pressing them both down onto the bed. Miles kept his hands, still caught in his shirt, above his head as he moaned in pleasure. Brayden’s mouth was hot and wet and his tongue skillfully danced over Miles’ nipple like it tasted like the best fucking lollipop he’d ever had. And when he sucked, Miles arched off the bed, gripping Brayden’s hips to grind their erections together.

When Brayden lifted his head, Miles muttered in protest.

“Sorry. Starting to hurt again, I’ve got to get the other one.”

Then heat suffused Miles’ other nipple. He held Brayden’s head, tentatively stroking dark locks, staring at the couple of freckles that decorated the skin on Brayden’s temple. He stroked them with his thumb as he tried to hold his squirming to a minimum, enjoying the weight of Brayden’s body stretched across his own, wanting to pull down their pants and skip the rest of the dice game and just get on with it.

How hard could sex be? Brayden’s mouth felt amazing. Chest to chest contact making it even more so. Miles ran his palms down Brayden’s back, letting free a low groan as the pressure of Brayden’s mouth became fiercer, almost too much to bear.

Right as his fingers reached Brayden’s pants, right when Miles was trying to decide whether to go over or under, wondering if Brayden wouldn’t mind if Miles finally gave in to the desire to have his hands flush against that perfect, gorgeous ass, Brayden chuckled and pulled off of Miles, tossing his hair as he sat back.

“Should have warned you not to start on the second one, but it felt so good. I mean, until my dick started to warn me I wasn’t doing what the dice wanted.” He flicked his hand towards the dice, but the white one had gone blank again so Miles didn’t get to see whatever picture had been formed.

He looked back to Brayden, eyes straying to his lips and the way the bottom one looked a little swollen. He held down the temptation to kiss, clearing his throat instead. “So orange means you both have to do it?”

Scooping up the dice, Brayden nodded. “Means whatever you do to me, I have to do back.” Then he grinned. “That one’s fun because you ride the edge of it, doing as much as you can before the die demands reciprocation.”

He threw down the dice as Miles sat up, leaving his shirt where it’d fallen. Brayden’s pants were showing the effects of arousal as well, jeans struggling to contain the outline of a long dick. Feeling a dose of confidence, he checked Brayden’s roll, desire making his skin prickle in anticipation.

Yellow. Stomach. Blow.

Miles’ stomach sucked in as if it could already feel Brayden’s breath.

“I hate yellow,” muttered Brayden.


Brayden pushed him back down on the bed, this time straddling him. “Because.” He pushed down and lowered himself until his chest put the slightest pressure against Miles’ hardened cock, just enough to drive Miles crazy. “It just wants you to do what the dice says until the other person pops a woody or starts leaking.” He blew softly against the skin right above Miles’ jeans. Goose bumps sprang up and Miles shivered. “And, as you can see…” Brayden flashed Miles that sweet all-knowing smile as he dropped his chest just enough to add some real friction to Miles’ cock. “We’re both already there.”

He blew again, this time easing upward, chest keeping contact with Miles’ jeans the entire time. Then he sat back, gave Miles an extra hump before throwing his leg back over and motioning to the dice.

Miles rolled sideways and reached for them eagerly, wanting to get back to touching or sucking or fuck, he didn’t care, he just wanted Brayden and this crazily drawn-out foreplay to never end. He barely shook the dice, just threw them back down on the textbook, flashing Brayden a smile when one fell off the edge and had to be rerolled.

Touch. Balls. Purple.

“What’s purple mean?” he asked quietly, proud of the way he’d held down his nerves.

“We can’t look,” whispered Brayden. “Close your eyes.”

Sure enough, the purple picture solidified into a closed eye, the lashes impossibly long. He looked up to see Brayden had already closed his, his hands resting lightly on his knees, his legs spread. Miles took a moment to steady himself, pushing up off the bed as he studied Brayden without the other boy seeing, drinking him in.

Then he closed his own eyes and dragged his hands forward, feeling along Brayden’s thighs.

“Remember,” whispered Brayden, a tremor in his voice. “Don’t open your eyes unless you want a world of hurt.”

Miles moved towards that voice until he could feel skin under his lips. “I won’t,” he breathed, feeling Brayden’s face turn towards him.

Their mouths met in a crushing kiss.

Perfect, thought Miles as he yanked open the top button on Brayden’s jeans. He fiddled with the zipper, having to grab the top of Brayden’s jeans to work it down. Then he shoved his hand down unceremoniously, allowing himself to run a finger along Brayden’s cock before shoving further, wrapping his fingers around balls that were obviously kept trimmed better than Miles’ own.

Brayden was panting now, letting free little noises that went straight to Miles’ dick, making it leak a steady stream into his boxers. He kissed the noises away, sucking on Brayden’s tongue demandingly, barely holding down the desire to throw Brayden back as he rolled his balls around in his palm, massaging them in the same way he’d do his own.

He’d risen up, pushing Brayden back, ready to abandon the dice game when Brayden pulled his mouth away and laughed unsteadily.

“Wait, fuck—”

That was all the warning Miles had before they went off the bed, Brayden under Miles and taking the brunt of the landing. He’d opened his eyes on the way down, his hand pulling free from Brayden’s boxer briefs in a vain attempt to catch himself. Under him, Brayden laughed and bucked his hips.

“Off, that hurt.” But he didn’t sound hurt and his fingers were still curled around Miles’ shoulder, palm so hot it scalded Miles’ skin. In a very good way.

As they righted themselves, they separated, a reluctance in their movements that made Miles’ breath heavy in his chest. Because this, this right here, was going amazing. Far and away better than he’d ever hoped when he’d joked about using the dirty dice Brayden was always going on about.

Back on the bed, Brayden looked debauched and flushed, his hair back in his eyes and his chest rising and falling faster than before. His jeans still sat open, the tiniest bit of cock visible at the elastic, the edge of a damp area underneath.

They righted the dice and Brayden gave a chuckle. “You got a good one.” He rolled.

Lick and ear. Brayden looked…disappointed. And when the third die swirled a yellow color again, Brayden let out a long-suffering sigh, leaned over and swiped his tongue slowly up Miles’ ear.

Miles shuddered, his cock leaking enough he felt he could fill a bathtub. Brayden pulled away quickly and gathered the dice, tossing them down for another roll without first offering Miles a turn.

Kiss and ear. And yellow again. Brayden grumbled something under his breath, but obediently kissed Miles’ lobe, letting his lips linger over it, drawing it out until Miles wanted to shout and throw Brayden down and hump him like an uncontrollable dog.

When Brayden reached for the dice again, Miles stopped him, wanting in on this game again. Wanting to be the one to kiss some part of Brayden. “It’s my turn.”

Brayden turned over the dice and shrugged, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

Chest tight with excitement, Miles shook the dice in one hand, gave Brayden a wink and tossed them down. Then he almost choked.

Suck. Dick. And green.

Brayden made a strange sound in the back of his throat. Miles would have defined it as a whimper had he not been so caught up struggling to control his pounding heart and sweaty hands.

“What does green mean?” he asked, mouth feeling like he’d filled it with cotton. He could do this, he could. He would not embarrass himself. No teeth, remember, no teeth. Go slow. Not a big deal. It’ll be fun.

The symbol was still forming, swirling darker and lighter, until what looked like an exploding firework appeared. Something heavy settled in his gut before Brayden even opened his mouth.

“Orgasm,” whispered Brayden.

A regular blowjob then. Coupled with a whole lot of pain in his dick if he couldn’t perform.

He couldn’t look at Brayden as he slid to the floor, but Brayden obediently turned his legs so that both his feet were flat on the floor. Miles slowly spread Brayden’s jeans further and pulled down his underwear, going slow so that he wouldn’t snag anything and the shaking of his hands wouldn’t be so pronounced.

Brayden’s cock was skinnier than Miles’ own, but longer, with a gentle curve to it that made it look sexy. He wrapped a hand around the base and stroked up just as he would his own, listening to Brayden’s intake of breath. He pumped up and down slowly as he struggled to gather spit in his mouth, having difficulty because nerves had him dry and needing to swallow every few seconds.

Fuck it. He’d start with tongue. At least he couldn’t go wrong there.

He bent and pressed his tongue to the underside of Brayden’s dick, licking upwards until he could swirl around the flared head, tickling the underside. Brayden let out a breathy laugh and fisted the blanket on either side of himself.

Miles licked and kissed up and down Brayden’s dick, getting into it, loving the way Brayden’s stomach sucked in and his breathed hitched. He’d managed to wet things down, his throat no longer compulsively swallowing when a pain began to pulse in his own dick, causing his erection to flag.

“What—” He grabbed himself and blinked back tears.

Brayden’s hand stroked through his hair and his laugh filled the room, doing something ugly to Miles’ insides because he could hear the mocking edge to it. “The dice said suck, Miles.”

Shit. Of course. He quickly put his mouth over the head of Brayden’s dick and sucked hard, the pain in his groin instantly fleeing. He paused then, feeling Brayden’s hand trembling in his hair as if he were struggling not to shove Miles down. He pulled up, then back down, feeling things get slicker as he worked to try and take as much as he could.

Until he orgasms. God. What if he fucked up like last time? Would the pain in his dick come back? Would it ever end? Stupid to use spelled things. Stupid, stupid.

He closed his eyes and forced the thought away, focusing instead on the smell of Brayden, the taste of his precome when he came up and tongued his slit. All the internet reading he’d done since that first time came in handy as he moved up and down, lips meeting his fist and wetting things down as he pushed to take him further.

Little by little, he removed his fist, gagging as he eased Brayden into his throat. Then back out again. Taking his time to figure it out. Brayden’s quiet words gave him encouragement, the laughter gone and no longer dragging Miles down.

“Miles, oh god, Miles. So good.” The words were barely audible, accompanied with gasps and sweet, uncontrolled grunts that goaded Miles on, getting him riled up, his erection coming back with a fierceness that surprised himself. “Please, faster. I’m almost…I’m almost, oh god, I’m—”

Research didn’t compare to the real thing. Brayden’s hand suddenly went tight in Miles’ short hair, scrabbling for some sort of purchase as his balls, now heavy in Miles’ palm, moved up. Miles felt Brayden’s cock pulse under his tongue as he was on an upward suck, then something hit the back of his throat right as he was breathing in, hot and hard and instigating a fierce reaction.

He gagged and coughed, spitting Brayden’s cock out as he struggled not to get semen in his lungs. More come splattered over his face as Brayden continued to spurt, his body tense and his groan long and drawn out. Semen dripped off Miles’ cheek and coated his lips as he quickly covered his mouth as a coughing fit overtook him.

Tears springing to his eyes, he took the cloth Brayden pressed to his face and pulled away to scrub at himself without help. As the fit calmed down and his lungs no longer felt the need to expel anything, he was conscious of three things.

Brayden’s laughter filled the bedroom, echoing mockingly in Miles’ ears. The cloth in his hand was the shirt Brayden had discarded earlier. And he’d once again made a fool out of himself.

Never had he wanted to be out on the field so badly before, kicking goal after goal to prove to himself he wasn’t incapable or inadequate.

“Damn, Miles. I don’t taste so gross, do I?” Brayden was still laughing and when Miles chanced a look he regretted it instantly because Brayden’s expression was just short of dubious revulsion. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Hadn’t been bad at all until that last bit when Miles had all but vomited all over Brayden’s shirt.

“I think I’m done,” said Miles. He stood to leave, fumbling for his shirt, embarrassment making him clammy and awkward. At least he’d refrained from biting down this time and wasn’t leaving with bruises. He’d call himself lucky and get the hell out of here.

Behind him, Brayden laughed again, though this time it sounded strained. “We can’t be done. You haven’t come yet.”

Miles thanked god his shirt was covering his face because he could feel himself flush at Brayden’s mocking. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why? He needed to talk to that quiet sophomore who had been looking at him recently, maybe the two of them could figure sex out without having to resort to needing people like Brayden to bring them down and make them uncomfortable and self-conscious.

“That’s okay,” he said quickly, righting his shirt and tapping his pocket to be sure he had his keys. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to traipse back inside Brayden’s bedroom if he forgot them.

He’d made it to the door and opened it when Brayden’s hand caught his arm, stopping him. Miles tightened his grip on the doorknob, but didn’t shove past into the hall.

“It’s ‘cause I’m a slut, isn’t it?”

Miles swallowed. “Who you fuck isn’t any of my business.” He forced himself to meet Brayden’s gaze then because he couldn’t stand his own cowardice. The hurt in Brayden’s eyes caught him unaware and he blinked, staring as Brayden’s jaw clenched. “It’s really none of my business, Bray.”

“We don’t…I mean, I can put the dice away. If you’re not having fun…” Brayden glanced back at the bed and then down at his own naked chest. “Sorry if I was pushing. When you suggested the dice, I thought—”

“I’d been joking,” Miles said quickly.

“Yeah,” said Brayden. “I get that now. Sorry, I’d just had this plan, you know…”

“A plan?”

Brayden gave that little knowing smile again, but this time it didn’t seem knowing, it seemed unsure and worried and maybe even a tad sad. “Yeah. This whole plan. I figured I’d get a good roll, you know, something to really blow you away.” The smile turned into a tentative leer. “Really blow you away.” The leer faded as Miles continued to stare at him.

“I’m interested in sex,” said Miles softly. “I’m interested in you. I’d even be interested in more if I thought that might be on the table. I’m not interested in being the worst partner you’ve ever had and being made fun the rest of the year.”

Brayden rolled his eyes. “You are not. I’ve been with a couple of shitty, fucked up guys. Some of them gay enough to shove their dick down my throat and straight enough to treat me like a parasite two seconds after they jizz all over my face. I figured things might be different with you…you know? You kiss me like I taste like mint chocolate chip ice cream and hold me like I matter. You never stare out the window of the car worried who might see us and you’ve treated me like a friend first, long before I kissed you. And that felt awesome and I’m sorry I didn’t give enough warning. My fault. Not yours. Not yours at all.” Brayden seemed to run out of things to say then.

Miles looked down to where Brayden’s fingers were gently rubbing against his arm. Very quietly, a part of him afraid of hearing Brayden laugh at him again, he said, “I’ve never had sex before.”

“You saving yourself? You a romantic?” Brayden’s tone only spoke of curiosity, no judgment. In fact, maybe a little bit of wistfulness had entered into his voice as well.

Miles shook his head. “No, just don’t like not knowing how to do something. Don’t like being laughed at. I’ve never gotten a blowjob and…and the one other time I gave head…it turned out badly. Worse than this time.”

“This time wasn’t… You were laughed at then?” asked Brayden.

Miles shrugged and turned to look into the hall again. No way was he talking about all the punches that had followed the laughter. He wanted to step out there, get to the safety of his car.

Then again, he didn’t. He wanted Brayden. Badly. Badly enough he was still standing on the threshold of Brayden’s bedroom, hoping desperately, his dick still hard despite everything.

“And I was laughing. God, Miles, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I laugh when I’m nervous.”

“You were nervous?”

Brayden ducked his head and his voice was barely audible. “I have had the biggest crush on you since my sophomore year. When you’d just started high school. Hell, I tried out for soccer last year when I found out you played.” He scowled. “Didn’t make the team. Practiced all year so I wouldn’t get cut again.”

Miles found himself tongue-tied, staring at Brayden in shock. He hadn’t known. Hadn’t even suspected Brayden had ever looked at him twice until the day he’d followed Miles to his car. “I didn’t know.”

Brayden’s cheek ticked. “You didn’t notice me at all until I made the damn team, Miles.”


“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t go. I promise, no more laughing. And if there’s anything you want to do, to try, I’m good for it. I’ll be a patient teacher if it’s you.”

Miles sucked in a breath. He wanted to say yes. Wanted to throw Brayden down on the bed and learn every inch of his body. But more than that…he wanted to do it tomorrow too. Wanted to have the right to divert all of Brayden’s time and energy away from all his casual fuck buddies and suck offs. And didn’t want to get laughed at for that desire, or for his need to learn all the things Brayden seemed to already understand.

“Would you go to dinner with me after?” he asked.

Brayden’s mouth opened in surprise, then that tiny smile Miles had come to know and love was back and he tossed his hair out of his eyes again. “You asking me out on a date, Miles?”

“I am.” Miles barely heard his own voice over the pounding in his ears, having to trust that he’d managed to say the words loud enough.

Brayden threw his arms around Miles’ neck and kissed him hard on the lips, erasing all the yucky feelings that had been roiling around in him since they’d started this game. “Miles, you ass, of course I’ll go out with you. Now shut the door so I can pretend I finally rolled suck, dick and blue.”

As the door swung shut, Miles asked, “What’s blue mean?”

Brayden chuckled evilly. “Means we can’t make any noise. Wouldn’t be a problem for me, but for you…”

The End