Bobby honestly doesn’t remember the night his dad was arrested the first time. He thinks he might have heard shouting, but he was asleep and trying to stay that way. He remembers the night his mom told him they were leaving, remembers packing his clothes and getting in the car with her. They headed west, and it was the first time Bobby had seen the Pacific Ocean. His favorite part of that little apartment of theirs, the thing that made the homeschooling and isolation worth it, was the beach and the ocean.
He remembers the night US Marshals knocked down their door. He remembers them handcuffing his dad and taking him away. Bobby feels guilty sometimes, that those are some of his last memories of his dad, but he couldn’t help it.
His mom moves them back east after that. It’s the Philly suburbs instead of New Jersey, because of his mom’s jobs, but Bobby still goes to his dad’s trial, watches them put him away. The day he’s sentenced, Bobby’s mom tells him it’s going to be okay, that they’ll see him again soon and everything is going to work out fine.
They get a divorce less than a year later and in the meantime, Bobby throws himself into hockey. He’s good at it, like he isn’t at a lot of other things, and it’s something to focus on besides the two jobs his mom works and the increasingly angry phone calls and visits his mom makes across the state line.
Hockey happens after school and on the weekends, and it’s the perfect excuse for Bobby to not have to go with her. It’s not that Bobby doesn’t want to go and visit his dad in prison, it’s just that visiting hours are almost always on weekends, and Bobby’s weekends are busy. Once all the papers are signed and the divorce is final, his mom stops going and with them, her expectations that he might go too.
He doesn't think anything about his mom starting to date. She's not bad-looking and she's still pretty young. He guesses it's normal, and the one time he met her boyfriend, he seemed kind of okay. He was completely bald, but he had kind eyes and a nice smile and didn't try to call Bobby 'son', which Bobby appreciates.
Mr. Getzlaf says Bobby can call him Chris, but he doesn't insist or anything. He comes over a few times a week, takes his mom out or stays for dinner. It’s the end of Bobby's sophomore year, because Bobby's off by a year because of the whole California thing, when Chris asks about bringing his son Ryan by to meet them.
"It would mean a lot to me if you and your mom got to know my son. He's a good boy, I'm sure you'll get along," Chris says.
"Sure," Bobby says, because why not?
Ryan's handsome, taller than even Bobby is, and his eyes are way, way better than his Dad's. He's kind of built, from being on the football team and playing hockey and baseball. Bobby tries to ignore the way his stomach twists just meeting him, looking down and mumbling a bit.
Unfortunately, Ryan's a dick and even if he's beautiful, Bobby kind of hates him.
"So my dad said you play hockey," Ryan says. "Are you up to contact yet or..." He trails off and Bobby's fucking insulted. Yes, he's playing with contact. He's not a fucking kid.
"I'm sixteen," he says, and Ryan smiles, wide and douchey.
"Oh wow, that old? You don't look it at all," he tells him.
"I'm not a bad size for my age," Bobby answers, because sure, he's waiting for his last growth spurt, but he's not a bad height for hockey.
Their parents send them outside to hang on their own, and Getzy grabs one of Bobby's sticks and a hockey ball and starts doing some stickhandling tricks. "You got any moves, kid?" Ryan asks, and Bobby tries to show him some, but he loses the ball and it goes rolling down the driveway. Ryan laughs and laughs and won’t stop laughing until Bobby's grabbed the ball and thrown it at him.
"Whatever, Ryan," he says, shrugging. "I save up my sick mitts for scoring goals." Ryan laughs at that too and Bobby looks at the ground.
"Call me Getzy, by the way," Ryan says. "Everyone does." When Bobby just looks at him he nudges him. "Hockey nicknames, eh?"
"Everyone just calls me Bobby," he says, and then wants to kick himself for admitting that. "I mean, um--"
Getzy's laughing, and it’s a stupid laugh. His nickname is dumb anyway.
"You go to public, right?" Getzy asks. Bobby nods. "How's grade eleven treating you?"
Bobby's played hockey with Canadians like Getzy before, so he isn't surprised by the backwards way he says it. "I'm a sophomore, actually."
"Oh man, they let you play hockey after being held back in public?" Getzy asks, and Bobby frowns but doesn't say anything. Getzy goes to the really nice private school two towns over. He's a senior and about to graduate. There's no reason he'd know that being in hiding with his mom and dad meant he fell a year behind, so Bobby shouldn't hold that against him, but he does anyway.
"I'm going inside," he says, and does it. Fuck Ryan Getzlaf.
They have dinner and then dessert, which Getzy doesn't eat because he's starting college in the fall and keeping an eye on his off-season conditioning. Bobby has two servings, just to prove... something, and then they're gone.
"I think that went well," his mom says, smiling sort of tentatively. "Chris really likes you. Did you and Ryan get along?" she asks, and she looks so hopeful that Bobby nods. It's Bobby's job to look out for his mom, he's the man of the house now, and if this will make her happy, he can totally suck it up and pretend to like Getzy.
"Good," she says. "Because I said they could go camping with us next month."
"What?" Bobby asks. Camping the first week after school let out was something Bobby used to do with his dad. His mom takes him now and it’s good but... it’s their thing.
"It'll be fun. Apparently Ryan's never been camping before!" she says, and, oh.
"Oh, okay,” he says, because showing up Getzy will be awesome payback.
They drive up in Chris's car because it's bigger. Bobby was kind of hoping Getzy would bring too many clothes or some other rookie move. He's wearing shorts, a loose-fitting shirt and a hat. Bobby frowns but gets into the back of Chris’s car with him. They don't really talk on the way up, they listen to their headphones and look out the windows.
Once they get to their campground, though, it’s Bobby's show. "So," he says. "We should get the tent set up. The ground here is really hard, so it's gonna take a while. I figure me and Getzy can do that."
"That's so sweet of you, honey," his mom says, and Bobby just smiles.
The ground here really is almost too hard to drive the tent pegs into, but Bobby figured out a trick a couple years ago, and he can't wait until Getzy has to ask him for it. He's driving the pegs for one of the tents into the ground and when he looks up... so is Getzy.
"You're doing pretty good over there," he says and tries not to sound disappointed.
"It's not nearly as hard if you pour water on the ground around the peg," Getzy replies and Bobby frowns. Getzy must catch him because he smiles. "Did you not know about that?" he asks.
"Of course I did!" he says. "I figured it out two years ago!"
"Didn’t you say you guys had been coming here for four?" Getzy asks. Bobby flushes and turns back around, savagely pounding the peg into the ground while Getzy laughs like an asshole behind him.
There's other stuff that goes into setting up camp. His mom makes him and Getzy dig the latrine while she and Chris set up camp, and Getzy's good at that too.
"This camping stuff," Getzy says when they're out looking for sticks and stuff for firewood. "It’s not so hard, eh?"
"Yeah, obviously," Bobby says and tries to find all the best sticks before Getzy does.
His mom and Chris make dinner, a really awesome stew that Bobby and Getzy both eat lots of. "So, tomorrow we'll go hiking," his mom is saying. "Me and Bobby found the best place to have lunch up the mountain, and there's a lake up there that's perfect for swimming."
"Sounds great!" Chris says, and Bobby feels bad for a second for hoping Getzy falls down the mountain or is bitten by a water snake in the lake.
When he heads to his tent to turn in, though, it’s not his mom's sleeping bag next to his. "What?" Bobby asks, just as Getzy climbs into the tent. "Um--"
Getzy frowns. "I guess it makes sense," he says. "I mean, they'd want to bunk together."
"Don't say that about my mom!" Bobby shouts. Getzy rolls his eyes.
"Whatever, it’s not like it’s the end of the world," Getzy says, unzipping his sleeping bag and crawling inside. They're not small, though, and the tent isn't really that big, so no matter where Bobby puts his bag, he's going to end up against him.
He punches his pillow a few times, trying to ignore the heat of Getzy behind him. "Go to sleep, Bobby," Getzy grumbles, and Bobby goes tense but closes his eyes.
He takes back feeling bad about wishing for the snake.
Bobby wakes up in the middle of the night because he needs to piss. Getzy's snoring sounds like a moose dying, and he's plastered to Bobby's back so closely that he can feel his breath on the back of his neck. It's weird and makes Bobby blush for some reason, but he shrugs it off before literally shrugging away from Getzy and crawling out of the tent.
He takes a piss against a tree instead of going all the way to the latrine and then goes back to his and Getzy's tent. Getzy's shifted in his sleep, and he's half on top of Bobby's sleeping bag, so Bobby kicks him to make him roll over.
It wakes Getzy up, and he blinks blearily up at Bobby while Bobby pulls his shoes off and climbs back into bed.
"Fuck off," Getzy says, clearly still half asleep.
"Stay off my sleeping bag then," Bobby hisses back. He can hear Getzy inhale, probably to say something, but just then they hear something soft outside. It sounds like an animal or … a person moaning.
"Oh god, it's your mom!" Getzy says, and Bobby wants to die. He doesn't want to think about.... this is seriously the worst. He goes digging around in his bag, searching for his iPod, but only finds his headphones.
"Didn't you leave it in the car?" Getzy asks. Bobby's heart sinks, because he did. He'd jammed his headphones in his pocket and left his iPod behind because he was in such a hurry to show up Getzy.
"Oh god," Bobby says, because he thinks his mom is getting louder, and this is officially the worst thing that's ever happened to him that didn’t include the cops breaking down their front door.
"I've got a splitter?" Getzy says, and Bobby nods frantically, reaching out to grab for it. Getzy holds it away, holding out his other hand for Bobby's earbuds. He hands them to him and Getzy plugs them in, and then there's nothing but Getzy's rock music and Bobby wants to sigh in relief.
It makes lying down kind of awkward, because the splitter isn't very long and Bobby has to be turned toward Getzy or risk yanking it out, but they eventually get it all figured out. Bobby's sort of jammed up against Getzy's front, nose practically pressed against Getzy's shirt and sleeping bag, but he's not being scarred anymore. He falls asleep listening to Nickelback and wondering what kind of soap Getzy showers with.
When he wakes up for real, there's sunlight streaming into the tent, he's got serious morning wood and Getzy has one arm around him. He's still snoring and Bobby can feel it in his chest from where he's pressed against him.
"Umm," he says, but he's saved from having to do anything by Getzy waking up. He sort of rolls over as he does it, stretching and blinking.
"Did we really hear our parents going at it last night?" he asks, blinking.
"Yeah," Bobby answers, also rolling away. Thankfully, the reminder is more than enough to kill his morning wood.
"Oh, good. Dreaming something that awful would suck," Getzy says, and Bobby actually agrees.
"Rise and shine, boys," Chris shouts, and Bobby wants to hit him for.... with his mother!
"Be right out, Dad," Getzy shouts. When Bobby looks up, he's watching him.
"What?" Bobby asks.
"Your face, man," he says, then laughs. His breath smells terrible. Bobby flips him off and grabs some clothes to change into.
For a second, Bobby just stares at his clean underwear and shirt and then looks back at Getzy. Usually, his mom leaves him alone to change. "What?" Getzy asks and skins out of his shirt. "It's just like the locker room."
He keeps changing, not bothering to hide himself even a little, and Bobby feels dumb for even thinking about changing his underwear under his sleeping bag. Bobby pulls his shirt off too and tries to ignore everything Getzy's doing. It's not really like the locker room, but Bobby feels like a freak for thinking that it feels weird doing this with only one other person instead of twenty or so. He doesn't deliberately check out Getzy's junk, it’s just a habit from the locker room, comparing toolboxes. Except he thinks Getzy catches him looking, and then he has to dress knowing he's red all the way down.
"Hurry up and grab breakfast," his mom says, once Bobby comes out of the tent. "We're heading out soon." Bobby stuffs his face with granola and nods, not wanting to talk to anyone.
It's a nice hike, though, of course, Getzy's good at hiking too. They stop for lunch on the large, flat rock he and his mom always eat on, the one with the really awesome view that always makes Bobby wish he was the kind of person that had deep thoughts or wrote poetry or something.
"I was a little worried it would be too small for all of us," his mom says, passing out sandwiches. "It was more than big enough for me and Bobby, but it's the perfect size for the four of us." She smiles at Chris when she says it, and Bobby vaguely remembers that look from when he was a lot younger and his mom used to stare at his dad like that all the time.
"Mom?" he interrupts, so she'll stop. "Can you pass me the apples?" She does stop, and smiles at Bobby this time, handing him the little baggie of pre-cut apples. They're a little sour, from the lemon juice his mom put on them to keep them from going brown, but Bobby likes that.
At the lake, Getzy strips down to his shorts and takes a running jump into it. He splashes around, and Bobby's mom seems to think it's funny. She's laughing at him and she's in her bathing suit and getting into the water too. Chris joins her, and Bobby has to shake himself out of being weirdly bummed over how long it's been since his mom's looked this happy.
"Race you?" Getzy asks, after they've both been splashing around like jerks for a while.
"You're on, bud," Bobby says. "Out to the buoy and back?"
"Done," Getzy says, and doesn't even wait to set up, just takes off. Bobby takes off after him but the head start is too much and Getzy basically kills it.
"Whatever, you're a cheater," Bobby says at Getzy's stupid gloating. He's not pouting.
"Enjoy second place, Silver," Getzy crows, and Bobby sort of punches him. It leads to the two of them having a wrestling match in the water, rolling around, punching and kicking at each other. Bobby realizes after a few moments that he's hard for some reason and pulls away before Getzy can make fun of him.
"Ha!" Getzy calls out, while Bobby creeps away. "I win again, Silver!"
Bobby just swims around by himself for a bit, willing his hard-on away. This camping trip really isn't turning out how he wanted.
Luckily, Chris and his mom don't go for a repeat performance that night, so it's really easy for Bobby to get up early enough for them to go fishing. Sure, he wakes up pressed up against Getzy's front, nose smushed into Getzy's throat, but other than that, it's really normal.
"Is it true you've never been fishing before?" his mom asks Getzy. "Your father says he hasn't."
"Yeah," Getzy admits, and Bobby wishes he could sound that cool when he admitted to not knowing things. "It'll be cool to learn though."
"Well, I'm going to teach your father, but I'm sure Bobby would be willing to help you," his mom says, and then they both look to Bobby.
"Oh, yeah!" Bobby says, nodding. "Definitely."
When they get to the lake they're supposed to be fishing at, his mom takes Chris to the side and starts showing him what to do, baiting the hook and then pressing up against him from behind to show him how to cast.
"Umm," Bobby says. "I've never really taught anyone how to do this."
"Can't be that hard," Getzy says. "I mean, if your mom thinks you can do it." Bobby frowns, because he's pretty sure he's being insulted but he can't be sure.
"Umm, well, you have to bait it first?" he says. He holds the hook up, and Getzy takes it, and then Bobby shows him how to put the bait on. It means their hands slide together a bunch, because both their hands are filthy and covered in bait. It's gross, but Getzy seems to get it after a bit, so that's good.
"Okay, so that's done. Now you have to cast." He stands up and Getzy goes with him. They stand a little awkwardly for a second, until Bobby just copies his mom and sort of moves in behind him. It's weird and Bobby's stomach feels like the granola he ate this morning was bad or something, but he does it anyway.
"You have to--" he says, and reaches out to change his grip, hand over Getzy's. "Right. And then, here--" He closes his hand over Getzy's wrist and then pulls it back, showing him the right way.
Getzy doesn't smell good. They haven't showered in a while, and Getzy's deodorant and the quick wash he had with some soap and a bottle of water this morning has kept him from stinking, but that doesn't mean he actually smells good. Still, pressed up against him, Bobby's aware of the scent of his skin, how warm he is and how Bobby's sort of up on the balls of his feet so he can see over his shoulder.
"Like this?" Getzy asks, and Bobby notices he's hard again so he steps away to check out what Getzy's doing from the side.
"Yeah," he says, nodding. "That's exactly it." He keeps turned away, and then messes around with the bait for a bit, waiting for it to go away.
Getzy doesn't catch anything and eventually, Bobby does. Even though he finally got to show up Getzy after waiting the entire weekend for it, he doesn't feel like he's won much of anything.
"That was fun, wasn't it?" his mom asks, and Bobby just stares for a second. She's smiling, wide and pleased, but the longer Bobby stares the more it slips off her face. Bobby hates being the cause of that.
"Yeah!" he agrees. "It was great! The hiking and the swimming and fishing and I think Getzy and Chris really enjoyed themselves." He thinks he's laying it on a little thick, but his mom seems happy with it. That's good, his mom deserves to be happy.
The summer passes in an awesome series of ball hockey, roller hockey and conditioning for next season. Bobby wants to have a breakout year. He thinks he's nearly there, he just has to get a little better. His coach and the team trainer agree.
His mom spends even more time with Chris. They go out at least three times a week, and Chris even takes her for a romantic weekend for her birthday. Bobby doesn't mind; it's a lot better than the dinner he was planning on cooking her. Bobby's a lousy cook, and the real gift tends to be him cleaning the entire house for her. He does it while she's away, so she can come back to a nice, clean house.
"Thank you, Bobby," she says, kissing his cheek, when she gets home. He flushes and hugs her back, and then she goes to lie down because she had a tiring weekend.
In late July, Chris and Getzy come over so Bobby and his mom can cook Getzy a farewell dinner. He's leaving for college next week, and he'll be living there even though it's within driving distance. Apparently he's going early for conditioning and strength training over the summer. Bobby's not much of a help with cooking dinner, though he totally gets the fire going in the grill for his mom to cook the steaks. Mostly he drinks the red wine his mom lets him drink on fancy occasions like this in the kitchen and watches her. She's dressed up, hair done really nice, and she keeps flushing every few minutes.
"A toast," Chris says, when they're all seated later on. "To Ryan!" Everyone raises their glasses and when Bobby's mom repeats it, Bobby just sort of mumbles.
His mom and Chris keep looking at each other through dinner, and when Bobby looks over at Getzy, he sees he's noticing too. Over dessert, his mom clears her throat. "We, we have an announcement," she says. "In addition to this dinner being about Ryan's future, going into his draft year, this is about our future as well, as a family."
Bobby just stares at her, because he doesn't get it. "Bobby," Chris says, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "I've asked your mother to marry me and she's said yes, but I'd really appreciate if I had your blessing."
Bobby just blinks at him, because there's no way he just said anything about marrying his mom, no way. When he looks over at his mother, though, she's crying, the little tears of happiness she gets when Bobby does something wonderful.
"You be sure and take good care of her," Bobby says, holding out his hand for Chris to shake, and Chris beams and so does his mom. He really should have eaten more before he drank all this red wine.
"When's the big day, eh?" Getzy asks, and he's smiling, but when Bobby looks down at the table, his hand is in a fist, knuckles white.
"We're thinking pretty soon, son," Chris says, smiling at Bobby's mother. "We'd like a nice little ceremony, but nothing too ostentatious. How's your end of September looking?"
"That soon?" Getzy asks, still smiling. "Schedule it around the start of games, eh?" He stands up, and he and Chris do a bunch of manly backpatting and handshaking. The last time Bobby was with his dad, he was still young enough for his father to hug. It's always weird to see guys and their dads doing everything to avoid hugging, especially since his mom hugs him for everything.
"Oh Bobby," his mom says and throws her arms around him. He leans in and hugs her back, folding her into his arms. "We're going to be a real family again," she whispers into his ear and Bobby just squeezes her harder. He thought they were doing fine before.
They move into Chris’s house the week before the wedding, because even though it's also a two bedroom, it's technically bigger. "There's an unfinished area in the basement," Chris says while they're carrying boxes. "Looks like I've got a reason to finish it. A little drywall and some insulation and it'll make a fine third bedroom."
"Also carpeting and a ceiling that isn't mostly the pipes from the house," Getzy says, shoving past them with a dresser.
"Right," Chris agrees. "But Ryan's away at college all the time, so it's not that much of a pressing need. In the meantime, you can just bunk together when Ryan's in town."
Bobby shrugs, because back when they lived in that tiny apartment in Redondo Beach, he slept on the couch. He doesn't really care about privacy.
"I don't care if you don't, Silver," Getzy says, shrugging.
Bobby shakes his head. "No, that's fine. Like you said, Getzy's gone most of the time anyway."
"Exactly," Getzy says. "Princess will get his privacy." He nudges Bobby in the side and Bobby lifts his chin.
"Like I care," he says, shrugging. "I share all the time for tourneys and stuff. It's not different."
Once everything is moved in, he and Getzy have to figure out how to get their stuff organized. They couldn't fit two doubles in here, so there's a double and a twin. Chris said Bobby could have the double, since Getzy isn't here much. It's Getzy's old bed, though, so he has to strip all the bedding off it and get his new stuff on. He figures flipping the mattress is a good idea too, except when he does, he finds a bunch of dirty magazines.
"Umm," he says, staring down at glossy covers with lots of tits on them.
"What?" Getzy asks. "Oh." He looks consideringly at the magazines and then back up at Bobby before winking. "Hold 'em for safe keeping, eh?" he asks. Bobby just blinks at him. "I'd better not come back to those being crusted shut though."
Bobby can feel himself blushing all over, and he just shrugs before setting the mattress down. He can't get the sheets on it fast enough.
Getzy isn't going back to school until the morning, so they have dinner and help unpack the living room and kitchen, and then have to go to sleep in their shared room. It's not weirder than it was in the tent, and this time at least they have space between their beds.
"Night, Bobby," Getzy says, turning the lights off. Bobby closes his eyes, but he can't get over the feeling that he's being watched.
He wakes up in the middle of the night again, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't have to piss and he isn't thirsty. He frowns, about to go back to sleep, when he hears a noise. It’s soft and coming from this room and Bobby strains to figure out what it is. There's the sound of rustling sheets and then some deep breathing, like someone's trying not to breathe loudly. He thinks it's coming from Getzy.
When he looks over, he can't see much, just a lump of Getzy on his bed. There's some kind of movement, though, and it isn't until Bobby hears a choked-off groan that he realizes that Getzy's jerking off. His entire body tenses and he strains even more, not wanting to interrupt and trying to stay quiet. It feels hotter in the room than it was before, and Bobby feels his whole body go tight. He closes his eyes, ignoring how his nipples and cock go hard and trying to will it away. Getzy's long finished before Bobby can fall asleep again.
"Usually, you'd dress with me, Bobby," his mother says, when he's carrying her dress and his tux across the street and toward the venue.
"Yeah?" Bobby asks, but they see Chris and Getzy and head toward them.
"Isn't this bad luck?" Chris asks, and Bobby's mom laughs.
"Sorry we're late," she says. "Bobby had to get some emergency alteration on his tux."
"Rip a hole in something, Bobby?" Getzy asks, smirking like a jerk. Bobby flushes.
"It's all that conditioning you've been doing this summer," she says, smiling. "What is it you said to the seamstress? It was hilarious."
"The quads are pretty fantastic," he mumbles, still blushing, and his mom laughs.
"Getting a lot of squats in this summer, Bobby?" Getzy asks.
Bobby shrugs. "Just trying to be a little more explosive," he says.
"Okay," Chris says. "Bobby, you don't mind bringing your mother's dress to her room, do you?"
"Not at all," Bobby says.
"Isn't it his job?" Getzy asks. "You know, as maid of honor?"
"I'm her best man!" he says, because Getzy's been calling him the maid of honor almost since they started planning the wedding. "Like, the dude of honor!"
"Okay, c'mon, Bobby," his mom says. "Drop my dress off and then you can go get dressed with Ryan."
"Huh?" Bobby asks.
"Like I said, usually you'd dress with me, but you're a little old for that." She smiles and kisses him on the cheek. "You and Ryan have a room to dress in though, don't worry. C'mon, Bobby." He follows along behind her, making sure her dress and shoes stay off the floor.
"Now go and make sure you look your best when you give me away," his mother says, kissing his cheek again. Bobby doesn't really have a choice but to take his rented tux and rented shoes to the room that's 'his and Getzy's'.
"Did you really have to get your pants taken out to fit your thighs?" Getzy asks, throwing a balled-up sock at him the moment he walks in.
Bobby shrugs. "Like I said, conditioning." Getzy nods approvingly, and Bobby feels like a tool for how pleases he is by it.
"Surprised the maid of honor isn't in a dress," Getzy says, and Bobby rolls his eyes.
"I'm surprised they're letting you in the wedding!" Bobby shoots back. "Because your face will... it'll make all the pictures bad." He'd been hoping it would come out better and winces at how lame it sounds.
"Sweet chirp, Silver," Getzy says, rolling his eyes.
"Stop calling me that!" Bobby says. He's already feeling edgy because of the wedding. He doesn't need Getzy's stupid nickname making it worse.
"Silver, silver, silver," Getzy taunts, and Bobby shoves him, so Getzy shoves back. Bobby doesn't know who escalates it, but suddenly they're rolling around on the ground, punching at each other.
Getzy's saying things like, "She's not my mom! All her things are gone and he bought her a ring and you're not really our family!" Bobby wants to shout back, about not wanting things to change, or about how Chris might be better than his dad but it didn't make him his father. But right before he opens his mouth, he notices he's hard.
All the fight goes out of him for a single astonished second, and Getzy takes advantage of it and punches him in the mouth. Bobby moves so it doesn't hurt as much, but he feels his lip splitting.
"Oh shit!" Getzy says, scrambling to get off of him, and Bobby turns onto his side and tries to catch his breath.
"I didn’t... oh God, I'm sorry, Bobby," Getzy says, and Bobby nods, still facing away. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he says, but Getzy doesn't listen, just turns his head toward him to look. His hand is on his jaw, fingers on either side of his face, and he pokes at Bobby's lip with one of them. Bobby winces.
"It won't bruise," he assures him, and Getzy frowns.
"I really didn’t mean to, I didn't want--" he says.
"I get it," Bobby says. "I do."
"I really do like your mom," Getzy says, a little sheepishly. "She's nice. She's just--"
"Not your mom," Bobby says, and Getzy nods.
"I just want things to be how they were when she was alive, you know?" Getzy asks.
Getzy's mom died in a car accident. His mom told him about it. Bobby's dad is alive and Bobby can go see him whenever he wants, so long as it’s visiting hours, but he knows what Getzy means. "I want that all the time," he says, and Getzy nudges him with his shoulder.
Bobby gives his mom away. He walks her down the aisle and puts her hand in Chris's. She looks beautiful, and her eyes are watering when he kisses her on the cheek.
There aren't a lot of people there, and when they all go out for dinner later, it’s an even smaller crowd.
"We can be family, if you want," Getzy slurs against his neck later that evening. He's drunk; his dad's been ordering him beers all night. "I know I said, before, but we can be. If you want. I never had a... and you're all right. I like you, Bobby." Getzy's breath is warm against his neck, and Bobby flushes when Getzy admits to liking him. He'd wondered, because Getzy doesn't act like he does like him very much, but Bobby's heard him talk to his friends on the phone and he sounds the same.
"You're really drunk," Bobby says. He's a little tipsy too; his mom ordered a few bottles of red wine and doesn't seem to notice that it’s mostly just the two of them drinking it.
"Yeah," Getzy agrees and laughs. It means his lips ghost over the skin of Bobby's throat. Bobby's belly feels tight and hot all of a sudden, and he doesn't think it’s the wine. "But still. You're okay, Bobby.”
Bobby smiles and turns toward him. "Bobby. Bobby," Getzy repeats. "Brother Bobby. Baby Bobby. Baby brother Bobby." Getzy says it all in a rush of breath and laughs, and Bobby frowns, because he is Getzy's baby brother now, isn't he?
"You should go home," he says, shoving Getzy off him.
Getzy nods and then blinks when he notices he's upright. "Call a cab, I'll grab my dad's credit card."
Getzy passes out on his twin bed as soon as they get home. He paid the cab driver and managed to get into the house mostly on his own, only leaning on Bobby a little bit. He hugged Bobby up against his side once they were in their bedroom and then stepped away, dropping his pants and crawling into bed. He was out basically a second after hitting his mattress, snoring like a moose, as always.
Bobby rolls his eyes and pulls his own tux off, setting it down on the ground near his bed and then climbs into bed too. He listens to Getzy snore for a while, wondering if he's supposed to feel different about Getzy now that they're brothers. He doesn't think he does. Getzy's still a jerk, and he's still that guy who seems to needle Bobby because that's just what he does. He's... Getzy.
Chris and his mom aren't going on their honeymoon for a few more weeks, and with Getzy back at school, it's just Bobby and his mom and his... new dad. It's weird to get used to, but luckily, Bobby's got hockey and school to keep him occupied. Coach is really excited about the shape Bobby's in, and he talks to Bobby about playing big minutes this year and getting some more power play time.
He doesn't have practice after school on Friday, so he goes for a run instead. When he gets home, he pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe at his face while digging through the fridge for something to drink. He opens the orange juice and tips it back, drinking directly out of the carton.
"Your mom's gonna kick your ass if she sees you doing that," Getzy's voice says, and Bobby jerks his head back in surprise. It means orange juice goes pouring down his chest, and then Bobby has to jump back. "Easy." Getzy hands him some paper towels and Bobby wipes at his face and chest with them, blushing all over and wishing he'd kept his shirt on for some reason.
"Mom won't be home for a while," Bobby says, and Getzy nods. "What are... aren't you supposed to be at school?"
"Great welcome, Bobby," Getzy says and shoves in next to Bobby to rummage in the fridge. His shoulder is sort of pressed against Bobby's chest as he pulls a bunch of cold cuts out of the fridge. "Grab some bread, eh?" Bobby wants to tell him to fuck off and get his own bread, but he's smiling at him, and Bobby doesn't want to make that stop."Anyway," Getzy says, arranging meat and cheese on a clean paper towel. "Coach said we can't put our regular laundry in with our jerseys to get washed anymore, so I figured I'd come home, do my laundry here."
"My mom's not gonna do your laundry," Bobby says, handing over the bread. Getzy smiles at him again, and their hands brush when he hands it over.
"Yeah, but at least here I'm not paying $2.75 per load, and I don't have to worry that someone put bleach in one of the washers or left their brand new red underwear in there," Getzy says and then grins. "Unless you switched from tighty-whities?" he asks, and Bobby blushes. He did change, actually. He made his mom pick him up black and dark grey boxer-briefs the last time she was at the store. They're like the kind Getzy wears, because every time Bobby saw them, peeking out of Getzy's waistband or in plain sight while Getzy dressed, they looked... comfortable. Bobby wanted them really badly.
His mom thinks it's cute how he tries to do things like Getzy, says it's only natural that Bobby hero-worships him a little. It makes Bobby feel better to remember that.
Later, in their room, Bobby's making his bed, trying to get the corners nice and tight. Having Getzy home always makes Bobby antsy and really aware of just how much of a sty he keeps their room. It's not that he thinks Getzy keeps his dorm in much better shape, but there's something about Getzy stepping over Bobby's discarded math homework, Scooby-Doo pajama pants and faded striped bedsheets that makes Bobby feel really young. So he tends to clean up when Getzy's around.
He's on his knees, tucking the fitted sheet under his mattress, when Getzy walks in. He hears the crinkle of Getzy's magazines at the same time he feels their edges against his fingers, and he winces when his skin catches against them. "Ow," he says, and Getzy raises an eyebrow. "Umm, papercut." He pulls his hand out and holds it up, showing where the skin is white.
Bobby's not expecting Getzy to do anything, so it's a surprise when he grabs Bobby's hand and inspects the cut. "That shouldn't cut into your enjoyment of them too much, Bobby," Getzy says, and Bobby just blinks. He hasn't even touched Getzy's magazines. They've stayed there and Bobby can't really even bring himself to take a real look at them. He gets over-warm just thinking about them, and some nights he just lies on top of his covers with his bed sheets kicked off because he's hot all over thinking about them underneath him.
"I," Bobby says, looking up at him. Getzy hasn't let go, and Bobby licks his lips, trying to make words come out. "I don't--"
"It's okay, Bobby," Getzy says with a smile. "I told you that you could." Getzy's watching him now, and Bobby knows he's staring, eyes wide and flushing all over. Getzy leans down and for one, crazy second, Bobby thinks he's going to kiss him.
He does. He presses his mouth against Bobby's forehead and pats his shoulder, dropping his hand. Kind, brotherly, because Getzy's his big brother now.
That night, Bobby wakes up to the sound of Getzy jerking off again in the next bed, and instead of listening, completely still and barely breathing in the dark, Bobby reaches into his sleep shorts and starts jerking himself off too. He keeps silent, as silent at possible, but he feels hot all over, biting his lip and trying not to breathe as heavily as he wants to. When he comes, his toes curl against the sheets and his hips arch up off the mattress. Getzy hasn't come yet, and Bobby falls asleep listening to the soft sound of skin and the quiet movement of Getzy's sheets.
Bobby's mom has been saying for years now that he's just a late bloomer. When the other boys on his team and in his classes went a little girl crazy, Bobby just watched. He's never been interested in doing anything, and even though he's kissed a few girls and even put his hand up his lab partner's shirt last year, it’s not something he ever went looking for. Caroline Jones said he had a mouth made for kissing, so Bobby always figured that when he... bloomed, he'd be fine.
He's thinking of sex a lot more, though, lately. He's jerking off a lot more, and he thinks he might know why. Getzy's home nearly every other week now. Bobby's not super smart or anything, but even he can put that together.
On a Tuesday night, he waits until he can't hear his mom and Chris anymore and then reaches under the mattress and grabs one of Getzy's magazines. He opens it, holding the light on his cellphone up to it to get a better look. It's a picture of a pretty brunette with long, flowing hair. She has pretty pink nipples that she's pinching and her legs are spread wide to expose her smooth, hairless pussy. She has a look on her face, sort of come hither.
Bobby tries to stroke it, tries to think about kissing her mouth or her tits, about fucking her. Nothing.
Frowning, he flips pages until he lands on a dog-eared page of a girl with honey blonde hair, cut short. She's arching her back, small breasts jutting out, and she's got two fingers in her pussy. Her mouth is so red and full and her lips are parted, like she's really enjoying herself.
Bobby tries to jerk off, and it's working, but it’s working because his hand is on his dick, not because of the hot chick fingering herself in the magazine. He lets his head fall back against his pillow and sighs. It's like there's something wrong with him. Getzy manages to get off to this.
His dick twitches when he thinks about it, and Bobby can feel himself flushing. He swallows and then closes his eyes, thinking about Getzy lying right here, with this same magazine. He'd marked this page, so he must have looked at it a lot. He must have looked at it with his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself. Not like he does now, when Bobby's in the room, but louder and probably more spread out on his own.
Bobby rocks up into his fist, thinking of Getzy playing with his own balls and then fucking his fist, wishing it were that girl's pussy or mouth wrapped around him. Caroline said Bobby's mouth was made for kissing, he wonders if would be good for that, for sucking Getzy off and--
He comes into his fist, entire back arching up off the bed and afterward, he's sweaty and a little shaky on his sheets.
It probably doesn't count as jerking off to dirty magazines if it took thinking about his stepbrother to really get him going. "Oh," he says. He has absolutely no clue what he's supposed to do.
Getzy comes home that weekend in the middle of the night on Friday night. They're all asleep, including Bobby, and the only reason he wakes up is because Getzy loudly drops his bag of laundry by the door. Then he runs into Bobby's dresser and curses. "Fuck," he hears Getzy mumble. He stumbles some more and then runs into Bobby's bed.
"Awesome," Getzy slurs and throws himself down next to Bobby on the bed. Now that he's this close, Bobby can smell just how drunk he must be. He smells like a beer-filled ashtray.
"Ugh," Bobby says, shoving at him. "Gross. You smell so gross."
"Sorry, Bobby," Getzy mumbles, but wraps his arms around him from behind.
"What're you--" he begins, but Getzy squeezes him.
"Shhhhh," he says, and Bobby's stunned into silence. A few seconds later, Getzy starts snoring.
In the morning, Bobby wakes up, and it turns out it wasn't a weird dream. Getzy's still behind him, has his arms wrapped around Bobby's waist. It's worse in the morning because Getzy's breath smells even worse, hot and a little wet against the back of his neck. Also, Bobby's pretty sure that's Getzy's morning wood pressed up against his lower back.
Bobby stays there, frozen and unsure what he's supposed to do, but he's saved by Getzy shifting behind him. He stretches a bit and it means his dick slides up Bobby's lower back, hot even through Getzy's jeans and Bobby's pajama pants. "Mmmm," Getzy says, leaning into Bobby for a second. Then his entire body goes rigid and Getzy's scrambling away.
"Oh Jesus," he says, and Bobby turns over and blinks at him, trying to make his expression look pissed and not disappointed.
"You're so gross," he says, frowning when Getzy winces and holds his head. It’s not really worth it to pretend to be mad at him. "I'll go grab you water and some aspirin, so no one sees you."
"Thanks, Bobby," Getzy says, and his smile is pained but it’s there.
"You didn't drive here, did you?" Bobby asks, once Getzy's lying in his own bed with a pillow over his face.
"Nah," Getzy says. "I got a ride after the party. I remembered to bring my laundry though."
"You were at a party?" Bobby asks.
"Why the hell else would I smell like an ashtray?" Getzy asks. "Not gonna take up smoking in my draft year, eh?"
"I was wondering," Bobby says.
"Thanks again, Bobby," Getzy says, lifting the pillow to look at him. "I didn't... I was so drunk last night. You're awesome for not holding it against me." Bobby grins, feeling himself flush all over. "Best baby brother ever," he finishes, and Bobby has to leave.
Bobby's team is on a winning streak, so Bobby lets the older guys on the team talk him into going to a college party with them. One of his teammates even promises to be the designated, so Bobby can drink as much as he wants. Everyone's laughing in the car, talking about sweet plays and how pissed Coach is gonna be when they all show up hungover. Bobby joins in right up until they start in on just how big the jugs were on the girl sitting on the glass opposite their bench the other night.
At the party, he loses track of his teammates pretty early on. He can't blame them, there's college girls and booze here, and he heard some girls were dancing topless on the tables out back.
Maybe it's because they're not around, or maybe it's because of the beers he chugs as soon as he gets in the door, but for some reason, when some guy starts offering him shots, Bobby agrees. His name is Chad and he's a third year econ major. He offers Bobby a shot from the bottle of tequila in his hand, the other one resting on the back of Bobby's wrist.
He hands over the bottle and Bobby takes a long pull on it, grimacing at the burn in the back of his throat. "You know what helps with that?" Chad asks, leaning in to speak directly into his ear.
"What?" Bobby asks, turning to look at him.
"Drinking more," Chad tells him, thumb stroking over the back of his wrist and then around, over the thin skin on his wrists. Bobby shivers and Chad smiles.
"You want another?" Chad asks, and Bobby nods. "Then tilt your head back," he says, and Bobby flushes but does it, tipping his head back and opening his mouth. Chad pours tequila into his mouth, a little more than Bobby probably would have drunk on his own, and Bobby swallows, so the tequila spills on his jaw and down his neck to soak his shirt.
"Party foul," Chad says, while Bobby's still swallowing around the burn in his throat. Then he leans in and drags his tongue over the line of tequila on Bobby's neck and up to his jaw.
"Oh," Bobby says, blushing even harder. His skin feels tight all over. He wasn’t sure before if Chad was hitting on him or not, but that clears it up. His dick starts hardening in his jeans, and Chad stays leaned in.
"Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, and Bobby sucks in a breath before nodding. He doesn't know Chad, not really, but he wants... he just wants so badly.
"C'mon then," Chad says and tugs on his wrist to drag him toward the stairs.
Chad pulls him into an empty room and closes the door behind them, pushing Bobby up against the wall right next to it. He kisses Bobby, tongue pushing into his mouth while his hands start shoving up under Bobby's shirt. He tweaks Bobby's nipple and Bobby gasps, arching up against him. "Jesus, you're responsive," Chad murmurs into his mouth, doing it again. Bobby just groans, reaching out to rest his hands on Chad's hips.
He runs his thumbs over Chad's sides there before reaching just under Chad's shirt, rubbing little circles there. "Fuck," Chad says and rocks his hips against Bobby's. He pulls away, moves his hands out of Bobby's shirt so he can reach up to run his thumb over Bobby's mouth. "Look at you," he says, and Bobby shudders. "You probably hear this all the time, but you've got a mouth fucking made for cocksucking."
Bobby shudders again, closing his eyes. "You wanna?" Chad asks, and Bobby's eyes fly open wide.
"You mean...?" Bobby asks, trailing off, but he opens his mouth wide, so he thinks he gets the idea across.
"Jesus fuck, yes," Chad says. He starts pushing on Bobby's shoulders, and Bobby's only thought about doing it the once, but... it sounds like it would be okay. He lets Chad push him down to his knees and leans his head back against the wall while Chad opens up his fly. He wears boxers, dark and soft-looking, not boxer-briefs like him and Getzy.
Bobby looks up at him while he pulls his cock out, and from this angle, it looks so big he doesn't know how he's supposed to fit it in his mouth. When he looks at Chad's face again, Chad's got an eyebrow raised.
"Bobby," he says, holding himself in one hand and stroking Bobby's cheek with the other. "Have you ever done this before, Bobby?" Bobby shakes his head, licking his lips, and this time, Chad's the one that shudders. "Jesus, it's my lucky fucking day, isn't it?" He slides his dick over Bobby's cheek, and Bobby takes a heavy breath because he's so fucking hard.
There's a loud banging sound and then the door's thrown wide open, spilling in light from the hallway. Getzy's standing in the doorway, mouth in an angry, furious line, hands balled into fists at his side.
"Oh shit," Bobby says, and Getzy looks down at him for a single second before walking inside and punching Chad in the face.
"What the fuck, Getzlaf?" Chad asks, recoiling and holding his nose.
"Get the fuck away from him," Getzy says, voice like thunder, and Chad blinks and then looks between Getzy and Bobby.
"What?" Chad asks. "Is he your boyfriend or something?" His face curls up in a sneer. "Because it's not my fault you can't hold onto--"
"If you leave, right now," Getzy says, hands still clenched at his sides, "I won't call the campus police and have you arrested for statutory."
"Freshmen aren't," Chad begins, and Getzy punches him again.
"My little brother, who's a junior in high school, isn't a freshman," he says, and Chad's eyes go wide. He leaves then, taking just long enough to tuck himself back into his pants and close the door behind him, looking anywhere but at Bobby the entire time.
Once he's gone, Getzy spends a few seconds just breathing, turned away from Bobby. "I--" Bobby starts, but it was the wrong choice. Getzy makes a sound, something low in the back of his throat, and then he's right in front of Bobby. He hauls him up by his shirt front and pushes him up against the wall.
"What the fuck was that?" he asks, and Bobby doesn't know what to say. "You were just... with Chad? He's an asshole. He's some frat dude, from California!" Getzy says. Bobby knew that. Chad talked about going surfing, and Bobby missed the surfers in Redondo Beach, so he listened. "He doesn't even like hockey and his name is fucking Chad!" Getzy's staring at him, and Bobby knows his eyes are wide.
"I, I just," he says, licking his lips. Getzy's eyes flick down to his mouth, and his face falls.
"You were going to, Jesus," Getzy says. He leans in, shoving Bobby against the wall and holding him there. "You, Bobby."
"I wanted," Bobby says, because he wants to try and explain it. Getzy cuts him off though, leaning in to crush his mouth against Bobby's. It's a little harder than is really comfortable, but it's so hot and so exactly what he wanted.
This is what he really wanted, when he let Chad lead him up here. He opens his mouth and lets out a little moan, and Getzy rocks up against him. His hips are pressed against Bobby's, rocking steadily, and Bobby can't stop moaning. "Getzy, Getzy, please," he says, whimpering, and Getzy shuts him up by crushing his mouth against his.
His wrists hurt from where Getzy's holding him against the wall, and he feels like he's been hard forever. When he comes, shuddering and shaking, it's mostly an accident. He slumps against Getzy, face pressed to his shoulder.
"Getzy," he says, voice wrecked, and his lips ghost over Getzy's skin.
"Jesus, Bobby, I--" He cuts himself off and steps away. "I'm sorry," he says, and it's as much of a shock to Bobby as how suddenly cold he feels without the warmth of Getzy's body against his.
"C'mon," Getzy says, frowning. He won't look at Bobby. "I'll take you home."
They pull up in front of their house and Getzy stops the car. Bobby sits there for a second. His pants are gross from dried and drying come, and he just wants to go to their room and change.
"Go on," Getzy says, and Bobby looks up at him.
"Aren't you?" he begins, but Getzy shakes his head.
"I'm going back to school," Getzy says.
"Oh. Are you--" Bobby wants to ask if he's going to call him, if they can do this again, if Getzy's going to kiss him goodnight. He thinks he might not be a virgin before, but he honestly doesn't know for sure.
"I'm really sorry, Bobby," he says, still not looking at him. "I know you... This was a mistake and I didn’t mean to--"
"Does this mean I'm not a virgin anymore?" he asks. It’s not what he meant to say at all; even less so when Getzy's entire face falls.
"It's ... no, Bobby," Getzy says. He finally looks up and reaches out, setting his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "You just need to sleep it off, okay? Just go and sleep for a bit and you'll feel clearer in the morning."
"Are you... are you coming home next week?" Bobby asks, and that isn't what he wanted to ask either, but it’s all he can think of.
"Yeah," Getzy says, nodding. "I'll be home next week and everything will be normal. Eh?"
Bobby nods and gets out of the car. Getzy stays until he gets inside. He doesn't hear his car driving away until after he's closed the front door. He leans back against it and closes his eyes, swallowing thickly.
He strips out of his gross boxer-briefs and goes to sleep in nothing but clean underwear. His mouth still feels kind of weird and tingly from where Getzy was kissing him. He thinks it's something like beard burn, because Getzy has to shave every day and there's bound to be stubble this late at night.
He closes his eyes, trying to sleep, when his phone starts buzzing and lighting up. He turns over onto his stomach and unlocks it.
It's a text from Getzy.
"Dont. With any1 else.," it reads, and Bobby's entire body flushes just reading it. It takes him a long time to get to sleep, and the next morning, when Coach is bag skating them because everyone showed up hungover, he thinks about it and his entire stomach flips over.
Getzy doesn't come home the next weekend, or the one after that. Bobby doesn't know what to do with that. He thinks he should feel bad, but he can't help thinking it’s not really his fault. He literally didn't do anything, besides try to blow someone and then stand there and moan.
"Ready to go?" Chris asks, poking his head into Bobby's room one Friday while Bobby's moping.
"Huh?" he asks, and Chris gives him a look.
"Ryan's playing today," he says, like he's told Bobby this several times. Bobby honestly doesn't remember. "We're all going up to watch the game."
"Oh, right," Bobby says.
Chris shakes his head. "We're heading out in five minutes, Bobby. Try and be ready."
Luckily, Bobby took a shower when he got home from practice. He changes into a clean shirt and some mostly clean jeans and barely has time to grab a hoodie off the floor because his mom is shouting for him to hurry up.
In the car, he realizes that it's Getzy's hoodie. It has the logo of his school and Oakbridge Preparatory Hockey written across the front and Getzy's last name down one sleeve. He wears it anyway, because the rink is cold and he has nothing else to wear.
They end up sitting next to one of Getzy's teammates’ best friends. Justin's the goalie's roommate at the dorm, and he fills Bobby in on the lines and how everyone's been playing this year. Getzy's on track for thirty goals and nearly seventy points this season. Bobby knew Getzy was good, but he didn't know he was that good.
He's turned toward Justin, paying rapt attention to the story he's telling about the fight Getzy got into in the last game, when he glances toward the bench. Getzy's staring at him and frowning. He waves to him, smiling because Getzy's team is playing really well. Getzy just looks away.
After the game, Bobby, his mom and Chris hang out with Justin near the locker room, waiting for everyone to leave so they can take Getzy out for dinner. Justin's roommate comes out first, and Chris invites them to come out with them. Bobby's talking to them, laughing at their jokes and staring open-mouthed whenever they talk about Getzy or some of the better goals he's scored.
"Hey there, little brother," Getzy says, and his arm drops over Bobby's shoulder. He pulls him up tight against his side, almost too hard.
"What's going on? Dad says we're all going out for dinner?" Getzy asks. Bobby nods and leans into Getzy, because it doesn't feel good, but he's so happy to have Getzy near him, he's willing to put up with it.
"Chris invited Justin and Tyler too," Bobby tells him, and he feels Getzy's grip on him tighten for a second.
"Sounds good," he says. "Let's go, eh?"
At the restaurant, Getzy laughs at all of Tyler and Justin's jokes and sits in the booth so his shoulder is in front of Bobby's. They're all crammed in there, because as big as the booth is, it's not built for two adults, three hockey players and a college-aged boy. The problem, though, is that with Getzy's shoulder in front of him, Bobby feels really left out of the conversation, even more so than he would be with them just talking about college without him.
"What about you, Bobby?" Justin asks, halfway through dinner, after he, Tyler and Getzy were talking about someone in their dorm trying to hide liquor from their RA. His mom and Chris have pulled their table a little ways away from theirs and are talking together, letting them all have a little space.
"Huh?" Bobby asks, blinking.
"Do you think the college life is for you?" Justin asks, smiling kindly. "You haven't seen much of it, but do you think you'll play college hockey?"
"I dunno," he says. "I'm not really... school's never been what I'm best at."
"What, like Getzy's some sort of brain surgeon?" Tyler asks.
Bobby bristles and shrugs. "I think Getzy's pretty smart."
"I'm sure you're pretty smart too, Bobby," Justin says, and Bobby blushes.
"Thanks," he says, ducking his head a bit and smiling.
"My baby brother's probably not the type for college," Getzy says.
"He seems quiet," Justin says, smiling at him again. He reminds Bobby of the seniors on the team that make a point of talking to the new guys and underclassmen. "College isn't all wild parties or anything. There's a place for quieter guys too."
"Didn't I see you at a party a few weeks ago?" Tyler asks, and Bobby blushes and shrugs. "No, I did. You were doing shots with what's his name, that douchebag from California."
"Umm," Bobby says, and he can feel Getzy going tense next to him.
"He got way too wasted that night," Getzy says and reaches over to punch Bobby in the shoulder. "Little Bobby's got way too sensitive a stomach to party too hard."
Bobby doesn't say anything, just shrugs. He can drink fine, he just doesn't very often. He plays hockey and stuff; also, he's underage. He doesn't say much else for the rest of the night, though, just lets Getzy talk to his friends, poking at his dinner.
"Great game, Ryan," Chris is saying to Getzy when they're about to leave. He shakes his hand and they do that awkward sort of back-patting thing. While Bobby's mom is hugging him and congratulating him too, Justin pulls him aside.
"Maybe I'm out of line," he says, running his hand through his hair. "But you seem like you could really use someone to talk to. You want my number?"
Bobby stares at him for a second. "Huh?" he asks. Justin laughs.
"With Getzy for a big brother and, I mean, if Tyler saw you with Chad... I've had really overbearing older brothers and I know what it's like to be gay and an athlete and... do you want my number or not?"
Bobby has no idea what gave him away, but he nods, because why not?
"What was that about?" Getzy asks, when Bobby's saying goodbye.
"Nothing," Bobby says, and Getzy frowns.
"Don't call him," Getzy tells him. Bobby just stares. Getzy reaches out and pulls him into a hug, and Bobby just takes it for a second before putting his arms around him too, hugging back.
"I mean it," Getzy says, still hugging him. "Don't call him."
"Come home," Bobby answers, because it's literally the only thing he's wanted to say to Getzy for weeks.
Getzy pulls away. "You look good in that hoodie, by the way," Getzy tells him, and then Bobby's mom is calling him so they can leave.
On the ride home, Bobby sits in back, wrapped up in Getzy's hoodie, and tries not to think about the last time he took this drive.
Bobby wears Getzy's hoodie to school on Monday, but he gets weird looks from his teammates so he doesn't on Tuesday. He still wears it when he's home, though. It's cold enough that there's nothing weird about him wearing a hoodie around the house. He wears it to bed at night, turns his head into the sleeve with Getzlaf written down the side and jerks off. Bobby likes to pretend he can still smell Getzy, his deodorant, the really bad aftershave he wears.
He has an early game on Friday and they win, eight to two. Bobby scores the game winner early in the second and then another in the third. He skated hard, though, and he's tired, so he goes home pretty exhausted after the little victory party they have at the Captain's house. It's still a bit early when Bobby pulls on Getzy's hoodie and changes into his sleep shorts, crawling into bed to sleep.
He wakes up to the bed dipping behind him and an arm coming around him. There's the thick scent of beer and Bobby knows who it is even before they say anything. "Bobby," Getzy whispers, loudly in the dark. "Bobby. You didn't call him, right, Bobby?"
"You came home," Bobby says, turning his head toward Getzy.
Getzy frowns and squeezes Bobby more tightly against him. "He gave you his number. You didn't call him, right?" He shakes Bobby, once. "Right?"
"No," Bobby says, shaking his head. He'd thought about it. Justin had been nice and... he'd offered to listen to Bobby's problems. Bobby doesn't really think he's some sort of college-aged saint, out to save stupid kids from Cherry Hill, New Jersey, but he'd offered. Bobby doesn't really have anyone to talk to about this. His mom would understand, but she's so happy, he doesn't want to bother her with it.
In the end, though, he couldn't tell Justin about Getzy. He can't tell anyone about Getzy. Partly because he literally doesn't know what the hell is going on between them, but partly because he doesn't know if this is okay. When he touches himself, he tells himself that Getzy isn't really his family, but his mom treats Getzy like a son: kisses him on the forehead and squeezes her saints medals to her chest whenever Getzy takes a hit on the ice.
Getzy smiles at him, wide and pleased, the smile that makes Bobby's entire stomach warm. "Good," Getzy says, turning his face into Bobby's neck. It means his mouth drags against Bobby's skin, and Bobby shudders. "That's good, Bobby. I just, I know what he wants. You don't need that." He's slurring and his voice is muffled against Bobby's neck, but Bobby hears him anyway.
"What," Bobby asks and then swallows. "What did he want?"
"You, you don't realize, Bobby," Getzy says. His hand is pressed against Bobby's chest now, no longer in a vice grip around him. "You're so innocent, with your eyes and your mouth." Getzy runs his thumb over Bobby's bottom lip, and Bobby closes his eyes, parting his lips. Getzy doesn't keep going, though. He runs his hand down Bobby's chin and down over his neck, to his chest again.
"You're wearing my name on you," Getzy whispers, and Bobby nods, because he is. "You're, Bobby," Getzy's still whispering, even though it doesn't make much sense. He keeps running his hand down, over Bobby's stomach and over his dick, already hard in his sleep shorts. He keeps going, down to Bobby's thighs, and then pushes up the leg of his shorts.
"Are you wearing my underwear?" he asks, drunkenly, thumb rubbing over the leg of Bobby's boxer-briefs.
Bobby can't help it, he laughs. It's low and he stifles it right away, but it lets him turn toward Getzy again. "I... I got some of my own."
Getzy just reaches up and shoves his hand down the front of Bobby's sleep shorts, cupping him over the thin cotton. "These feel just like mine," Getzy says, and Bobby's glad it's so dark, because he can feel himself blushing all over.
"They are just like yours," Bobby says, and Getzy rubs his hand over him.
"Jesus, Bobby," Getzy says. Bobby arches his hips up against Getzy's hand, and Getzy responds by shoving Bobby's boxer-briefs down. He wraps his hand around Bobby's dick then, big hand jerking him hard and fast. Bobby knows he's making too much noise, breathing too loudly, but he can't stop. Getzy's never touched him like this, no one has, and he wants to stop making these broken, whimpery noises but he can't.
He's never felt this good and he never wants it to end. Getzy leans in, though, covers Bobby's mouth with his in a hard, bruising kiss, and Bobby's coming in his hand. The press of Getzy's mouth keeps him from making too much noise, and that's good, because Bobby feels shaky and shuddery and he doesn't know how quiet he could have kept.
"Getzy," he whispers, once Getzy pulls away. He leans in, pressing a kiss to Getzy's cheek, the corner of his mouth. Getzy smells like beer and it's not really the greatest, but he's here and he's touching him and he isn't stopping Bobby.
"Fuck," Getzy says, letting Bobby kiss him. "Bobby--"
"I want to blow you," Bobby interrupts, saying it all in a rush, because it sounded like Getzy was about to end this and Bobby doesn't want that.
"What?" Getzy says, and Bobby leans in.
"Please," he whispers. He can feel Getzy, hard against his hip. His cock had jerked when Bobby offered. Getzy wants this and Bobby wants to give it to him.
"Have you ever done that before?" Getzy asks, and his tone makes it clear that there really isn't a good way to answer it.
"I want to with you," Bobby says, because Getzy definitely doesn't seem to want him to do this with anyone else. Getzy doesn't look sure, so Bobby presses. "Please? Please, Getzy, I just want--" he asks, a little breathlessly.
"Jesus, if you don't quit fucking begging to suck me off I'm going to come in my pants, Bobby. I swear to fucking god," Getzy says, still slurring. Bobby nods, because that wasn't a no. It actually sounded like kind of a yes. Bobby pushes his luck, reaches out and down, brushing his hand over the front of Getzy's pants. He's still dressed, still in jeans, and Bobby has to press harder, just so Getzy feels it. He hears Getzy inhale sharply, but then he's nodding.
Bobby smiles and then reaches for Getzy's zipper. "I'll do it," Getzy says and reaches down. There's really nothing else for Bobby to do but slide down. He's not as smooth at it as he wanted and it's more of a scoot than really sliding, but eventually, he's at eye-level with Getzy's dick. He looks at it for a second; Getzy's hard and a little veiny, and Bobby's once again left wondering how it'll all fit in his mouth. When he looks up, Getzy's watching him. He doesn't really know what to do, so he just sort of puts his mouth on it and then looks up, to see if Getzy likes it.
"Jesus, Bobby," Getzy says, and Bobby thinks that must be good so he licks it a few times, the underside and then the head. Getzy muffles a groan and Bobby smiles, because this is actually really easy. "Open your... close your mouth around it," Getzy says, and Bobby opens his mouth wider to try and do that. "No teeth," Getzy reminds him, but he forgets to tell him not to try to go all the way down and Bobby chokes the first time.
"A little at a time, Bobby," Getzy says. He has a hand on his head and he's petting his hair. "Just suck, okay?" It's not as easy as Bobby thought it would be, but he thinks he gets the hang of it. Getzy doesn't seem to mind. He gives him instructions and tips, and Bobby finds he kind of likes it. He can just close his eyes and do what Getzy says, focus on the thick weight of Getzy's cock in his mouth, the warmth of his hand on the back of his head.
For the most part, Getzy keeps still, but after a bit, his hips start jerking a bit, his hand beginning to grip onto the back of his head. Bobby opens his eyes and looks up at him, and Getzy's watching back. "I'm close, Bobby," Getzy says, nodding. "Really close."
Bobby pulls back, to ask what that means, what he's supposed to do, and Getzy comes. He gets hit in the cheek and across his chin and mouth. His eyes and mouth are opened wide in surprise and he gets Getzy's come there too, though luckily he closes his eyes before any gets in his eye. He can feel it sticking to his eyelashes and across his eyelid. "Fuck, Bobby, I... fuck I'm sorry," Getzy whispers.
Bobby wipes at his eye with his hand, making sure he's not about to blind himself. "Umm," he says, when he can finally open his eyes. "Was... was that good?"
"Seriously?" Getzy asks. He reaches down, swiping his thumb across Bobby's bottom lip. Bobby turns his head to follow it, licking Getzy's come off his thumb. It tastes... weird, but not any different from Bobby's own. "I really am sorry. You don't mind?"
Bobby shrugs. "Maybe warn me sooner, next time?" he says, and Getzy's hand tightens against Bobby's cheek for a second before letting go.
Getzy shakes his head. "It was, yeah. You were good, Bobby." Bobby smiles and starts rubbing at his face. "Are you rubbing that in?" Getzy asks, and Bobby shrugs. He doesn't feel like going and grabbing something to wipe up with, and tomorrow... he may never get this again. "I can go get you a towel," Getzy says. Bobby scoots back up the bed, on his stomach this time, and lies next to Getzy.
"You probably shouldn't stand," he whispers and Getzy nods.
"Here, at least you can use this," Getzy says and skins out of his t-shirt, handing it to Bobby. Bobby wipes his face with it. "I really am sorry," Getzy adds.
"I don't--" Bobby frowns and finishes cleaning up his face. He lies back down on his stomach and leans in closer to Getzy. "I liked it," he whispers softly, and Getzy gives a little groan.
"Fuck, Bobby," he whispers, and Bobby wants to say he should, that Bobby wants him to, but he doesn't know if he's allowed. Instead, he curls up against Getzy's side and lets Getzy put his arm around him. Bobby lays his head on Getzy's chest and hopes he's still here in the morning.
Bobby wakes up first, which isn't a surprise to him. Getzy was pretty drunk last night. He's still lying on his stomach, pressed against Getzy's side, but Getzy's shifted in the night. He's not under Bobby anymore, more half on top of him, his weight pressing Bobby into the mattress. Bobby likes it, and he closes his eyes for a second to enjoy it.
Getzy's warm on top of him, and Bobby can feel his morning wood, already pressing against his hip. He feels it when Getzy wakes up in the sudden grip Getzy has on his side and the way he rubs his face into the back of Bobby's neck. "Bobby," he whispers, and Bobby arches his hips back against Getzy's dick, encouraging him.
"Fuck," Getzy says, and then he's rolling on top of Bobby, holding himself up over him. "I don't... why do I want this?" He rocks his hips against Bobby, hard cock dragging against Bobby's back, just under Getzy's hoodie. Getzy didn't bother to do his jeans back up and the teeth of his zipper are dragging against Bobby's skin.
"I shouldn't, fuck, Bobby, you're... why do I and why don't you--" Getzy kisses the back of his neck and then bites softly and then a bit harder. "Why are you always fucking here, Bobby?"
Getzy's hips are moving, rocking lower, and he won't stop biting him and Bobby wants him to keep going, to never stop. "You're always here, every fucking weekend. Why can't you be one of those divorce kids that, that visits their dad on the weekends, why do you--"
Getzy's hips drag low enough that his cock rubs across Bobby's ass, right over the seam in his sleep shorts, but Bobby barely feels it. He hears Getzy's mention of his dad and visiting him on the weekends and his entire body goes tense, freezing all over.
"Are you, oh shit. Fuck," Getzy says and rolls off him. He hits the ground and turns away, doing up his zipper.
"No, don't," Bobby says and feels so fucking stupid for ruining the moment. "I want, come back over here and, you can rub off against my ass all you want. I swear. You can fuck me if you--"
"Bobby," Getzy says, cutting him off. His tone is sharp and he's still turned away, but Bobby can see his hand pressing hard against his dick. "I shouldn't have done... that was wrong."
"No," Bobby answers, and it's barely more than a whisper. He turns over to look at Getzy. "That wasn't. I was just--"
"No, Bobby," Getzy says, and even though it looks really painful, he squats down next to Bobby's bed. "You're my little brother. I can't be doing this to you."
"With me!" Bobby insists, and Getzy winces. "No, you--"
"If you heard the way my dad talks about you, Bobby, you'd get it," Getzy says, and Bobby's stomach flips over. His mom doesn't talk to Bobby about it, because that's not what they do, but he knows how she treats Getzy.
"My mom does your laundry when you come home and she leaves you notes in your laundry bag, like she always put in my lunch when I was younger," Bobby says, looking down. He doesn't... he knows how it must seem to Getzy, but he just doesn't care. He knows how his mom sees Getzy, but Bobby doesn't, why should he pretend like he does?
"I'm sorry, Bobby," Getzy says, and he leans in and kisses his forehead. He gets up then and goes to take a shower, and Bobby's left lying in his bed, wondering what he's supposed to do now.
Getzy goes back to school early. He doesn't even bother to spend the night again, just does his own laundry and drives out on Saturday afternoon. Bobby watches him go, silent and sad.
will it b different when im older? he texts Getzy that night, because if he only has to wait a year or so until he's out of high school, he can do that.
Getzy doesn't answer.
because id wait he texts on Sunday. Getzy still doesn't answer him.
its not so long, rly he texts, Monday morning, because it wouldn't be, if he could have Getzy afterward.
By Monday afternoon, he's staring at the pathetic series of texts to Getzy and feeling stupid. He sounds like a child, like he's desperate. This isn't a TV show, or like those kids in that play Bobby had to read in English last year.
On Tuesday, Bobby goes for a run after practice. He comes home, takes a shower and picks up his phone. He calls Justin.
Justin doesn't seem to mind that it took Bobby this long to call. He laughs at the lame jokes Bobby tells and invites him out for coffee sometime. Bobby's not supposed to drink coffee, the school trainer says the caffeine's no good for him, but he agrees anyway. He thinks it might be a date.
"You, umm, earlier, you said you were an athlete?" Bobby asks, pulling on the cuffs of the button-up shirt he's wearing. He tried not to dress up too much, but a nice shirt and clean jeans isn't too dressy. Justin seems to like it, he complimented the way the stripes on his shirt brought out his eyes.
"I do track," Justin says, smiling. "I did soccer in high school, but I'm pretty focused now." Justin's dressed up too, in a soft looking, black v-neck sweater and some dark jeans. He's smiling a lot, flashing even, white teeth, and Bobby's almost certain this is a date. Just thinking it makes him blush, but Justin doesn't seem to mind.
Justin's better looking than Getzy, but not as tall. He doesn't seem to mind, though, and when they decide to grab a bite to eat, he holds Bobby's chair out for him. When Justin hears that Bobby's going home on the bus, he offers him a ride home, hand on the small of his back to lead him to the car.
"I had a great time tonight, Bobby," Justin says, once his car is parked across the street from Bobby's house. "I'm really glad you called me."
"I'm, I'm glad too," Bobby says and he's surprised when Justin leans in to kiss him. His mouth is soft and warm and so, so gentle against Bobby's, and now Bobby's almost sure it's a date.
"I'll see you again soon, yeah?" Justin asks and Bobby just nods.
He goes to get out and then turns back for a second. He wraps a hand around the back of his neck and ducks his head. "This was a date, right?" Bobby asks, and he thinks he sounds hopeful.
Justin smiles. "Yeah, Bobby," he says. "And the next time we hang out, that'll be a date too."
"Thanks," Bobby says and gets out of the car to the sound of Justin laughing. Justin's nice, he has a good smile and he kisses Bobby like he thinks he has to be careful. Bobby's never been kissed like that before, and he's pretty sure he could learn to like it.
Justin comes to his game that week, and then takes him out afterward to make him feel better when they lose. Bobby's running over plays he fucked up, places he could have backchecked more to break up a rush and chances he should have capitalized on. He stops halfway through recounting how he could have beaten a defender when he got a breakaway in the 2nd. "Sorry," Bobby says, blushing and ducking his head. "This is probably really boring, huh?"
"Nah," Justin says, still smiling. He reaches across the table to nudge Bobby's hand with his. "I've run races over and over again, trying to figure out where I could have done better. And c'mon, I hang out with Tyler and Getzy. I'm used to how obsessive hockey types can be."
Bobby ducks his head at the mention of Getzy, because it makes him feel flushed all over, thinking about him. "Tell me about your classes. You had... history today?"
"Physics and econ, actually," Justin says, laughing. He tells him about it anyway, though, going into a long story about his physics professor and a banana that Bobby can't help but laugh about.
When they go to leave, Justin doesn't take him home right away. Instead, he parks his car at a park near his house and turns to Bobby. Justin reaches out and Bobby's sort of expecting he'll be going for... his dick or something. He's holding his hand out, palm up, and Bobby blushes and puts his hand in Justin's. His is so much bigger, callused from hockey and chapped from the cold, but Justin doesn't seem to mind.
He's watching Bobby and then he's leaning forward, and Bobby knows to expect it, that Justin's going to kiss him. Bobby closes his eyes and parts his lips for it, welcoming Justin's lips, his tongue. It's... nice.
Justin kisses his neck softly and reaches into his jeans. He jerks Bobby off, sweet and slow, and so long as Bobby closes his eyes through it, he can pretend it's a bigger, rougher hand wrapped around him, gripping tighter, kissing harder. When Bobby comes, Justin licks it off his hand and it's hot, that's a hot thing for his almost-boyfriend to do, and Bobby wants for there to be heat in his stomach from watching it.
"I'll see you this weekend, right?" Justin asks, when he drives Bobby home. "You could come up to the school, stay the weekend. I bet your parents wouldn't mind."
Bobby would probably die if he stayed in Justin's dorm for the weekend and had to run into Getzy while his mouth was still red from kissing Justin. It... he gets panicked just thinking about it. "Maybe," he says, nodding. "I'll ask."
"Night, Bobby," Justin says, kissing him. Bobby gets out of the car and walks up the sidewalk, touching his mouth. It doesn't feel like it did after all the kisses with Getzy, nowhere close. He waves to his mom and Chris in the living room and carries his hockey bag back toward his room.
He sets his bag down on the floor, closing the door behind him, and then there's a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back against it. "That looked cozy," Getzy says, holding him against the wall. His hand is like a vice-grip around his shoulder and Bobby really wishes his first instinct wasn't to go instantly, blindingly hard.
"Getzy," Bobby breathes out. Getzy's pressed against his front and he's angry but he's here, with Bobby.
"I ask where Justin is," Getzy tells him, voice pitched low. "Come out of the shower and Tyler's in the common room and I ask him where Justin is, because it feels like he's been gone all week. And Tyler tells me, he's on a date with my little brother. Again." Getzy sort of rocks his entire fucking body against him on the last one, hand tightening on Bobby's shoulder and Bobby has to take a deep breath and swallow, because just this much contact with Getzy has him lightheaded.
"I saw you two," Getzy continues. His voice is even lower but he sounds... pissed and wrecked at the same time. I saw you in his car." Bobby's eyes go wide and reaches out as best he can, puts his hand on Getzy's arm.
"Getzy," he says, shaking his head. "I--"
"Where did he touch you?" Getzy asks. He's shaking, but he's still pressed up close to him, staring at Bobby.
"I, we... we kissed," Bobby says, and Getzy shifts. He rests his hand over Bobby's throat, not pushing or choking him, just resting it there, heavy and solid, and uses his other hand to brush his thumb over Bobby's mouth.
"Bobby," Getzy whispers and leans in to kiss him, hard and demanding. Bobby opens his mouth for it, and Getzy licks inside and then bites at his lips and then at his tongue, like he's trying to get the taste of Justin out, like if he kisses Bobby hard enough, he'll be like a slate, wiped clean.
"Getzy, Getzy," Bobby whimpers, and Getzy pulls away.
"What else?" he asks and his hand presses against Bobby's throat. This is what Bobby wanted, what he'd hoped for. He's spent so much time wishing Justin was like this: looked like Getzy, acted like Getzy and handled him like Getzy does.
Bobby glances down. "He, he jerked me off. Just the once, just tonight," he assures, because Getzy's letting go and moving away. Except he's getting on his knees in front of Bobby and yanking at Bobby's zipper and flies. He pulls Bobby's jeans and underwear down roughly and then just stares at him.
He's hard, obviously. He would have gotten hard just from smelling Getzy's deodorant or aftershave, of course he's hard after having Getzy press him into the wall and kiss him. But he's not... he doesn't really think his dick is much to look at. Getzy's staring anyway, though, and it makes Bobby squirm, hips moving restlessly until Getzy takes his hips in both hands and slams them back against the door.
"Stay still, Bobby," Getzy says but then, finally, he's leaning forward, eyes wide open and watching him, and sucking Bobby's dick into his mouth.
It's... Bobby hadn't ever really thought about this. He'd sucked his own fingers and jerked off, wishing it were Getzy's cock in his mouth again. He'd even teased his own ass once, fucking his fist with his legs spread wide and thinking about Getzy fucking into him. He hadn't thought about this, about Getzy's mouth sealed tight around him, sucking steadily and tonguing at the head of Bobby's dick. He hadn't thought about Getzy watching him, staring up at him and digging his fingers hard into Bobby's hips.
It doesn't take long. Bobby's a teenager and on a hair-trigger at the best of times, let alone when... when it's Getzy, doing this for him, to him. "Getzy," Bobby warns, hips jerking, even under Getzy's iron-grip. "Getzy, I'm gonna."
Getzy squeezes his hips and keeps going, keeps sucking, and Bobby comes like that, wishing he didn't have to close his eyes at the last second. When he opens them again, Getzy's swallowing and then he's licking down the length of Bobby's cock again. He wraps a hand around Bobby, squeezes tight down the length of him and licks at the last of Bobby's come that comes out.
It feels dirty and Bobby likes that, likes that Getzy wants that much of him, maybe all of him. Getzy looks up at him and Bobby swallows and reaches down, cups Getzy's face. "Stay," he says, and can't even be ashamed at how pleading it comes out. Getzy just nods, though, and stands up. He strips down to his boxer-briefs and lies down on Bobby's bed, holding up one arm.
Bobby lays down next to him, sliding in under his arm and up against his side. "Thank you, Getzy," Bobby says, pressing a kiss to Getzy's chest.
"Go to sleep, Bobby," Getzy says
In the morning, Getzy, curled around him from behind, is rocking his hips against Bobby's ass. It’s just like last time, and Bobby frowns, hoping they're not about to repeat it. "Maybe you were right," Getzy says, tightening his hands around his waist. Bobby doesn't know if he's talking to him on purpose or not and wonders if he should let Getzy know he's awake, so he doesn't say something he didn’t mean to.
"I know you're awake. Quit faking," Getzy says, squeezing again. He must put pressure on something, because Bobby winces. "Yeah, sorry about that. Everyone'll just think it’s from hockey. Don't worry about it."
Bobby looks down; there are bruises on his hips, and just looking at them makes Bobby shiver. "Yeah," he agrees. "No one will notice,"
"No one on your team," Getzy specifies. "Because you're not dating Justin anymore."
"Are we?" Bobby starts, unsure how that question should end.
"No," Getzy says, and Bobby tries to pull away. Getzy pulls him back against him. "Not now, Bobby," Getzy says. "But like you said... when you're older and don't live at home."
"You want us to wait, both of us?" he asks. He feels Getzy shrug behind him.
"Why not?" he asks and kisses the back of Bobby's neck.
When Getzy leaves in the morning, he does it with a hug for everyone and a kiss on Bobby's forehead. He ruffles Bobby's hair, and Bobby smiles and punches him in the arm. Soon, he can't help but think.
When he gets home after practice on Monday, he grabs juice out of the fridge and is pounding it out of the carton when he catches sight of two envelopes on the counter. One is open and it's addressed to his mom from the New Jersey Department of Corrections. The other is hand-addressed to Bobby, in familiar handwriting, with the return address stamped Riverfront State Prison. Bobby has a stack of these in an unopened box in the back of his closet. He used to keep them in a shoebox under his bed, but once he started sharing with Getzy, he didn't want him accidentally coming across them while looking for shoes or something.
He hasn't opened any of them, but this one coming with an official one for his mom makes him think he should.
Bobby sits on his bed, staring at it. His dad stopped sending them a while ago, when Bobby never answered them and never visited. He keeps staring at it, like if he keeps staring, he'll absorb whatever his dad is writing him about. He gives up and goes back to the kitchen. His mom's letter is open, he can read that.
The letter itself isn't very long. There's other papers in there, but the letter is short.
Ms. Getzlaf, formerly Stevenson it says at the top and Bobby takes a second to wonder whether his dad knows about Chris. Writing to inform it continues granted early parole and as condition of parole, prohibited to come into physical contact with you for two years. There's something about the additional papers being documents about that. There's no mention of Bobby, and Bobby sighs, because he'd hoped New Jersey would do the job for him, decide whether his father could see him or not.
According to the letter, though, he's not allowed to leave New Jersey, and since Bobby can't drive, he can't see him. It's that easy. Solved for him, just like that.
He goes back to his room and, ignoring the letter staring accusingly at him from his bed, checks his phone.
hey gorgeous. It's a text from Justin, and Bobby can't believe he was on a date with him yesterday. It feels like it's been years. Bobby ignores it and goes to throw himself down on his bed. The letter's there, though, his father's handwriting staring up at him. Bobby shoves it in his top drawer, under a pair of underwear.
That night, before he falls asleep, his phone buzzes. sleep tight, Bobby Justin's texted him. Bobby closes it without responding and turns over, back toward his phone. He just wants the day to be over.
Justin calls again the next day and when Bobby gets out of History, there's a text from him. Bobby doesn't want to have to talk to Justin about this, about them. He's sort of hoping that if he just ignores it, Justin will go away. It seems really unlikely, but Bobby's always tried to be an optimist.
At lunch, his phone buzzes again and across the table, one of his teammates raises an eyebrow at him. He shrugs, but then it goes off again. He reads it: both are texts from Justin.
"Oh man," one of his teammates says, laughing and pointing. "I know that look. Shit, I’ve had that look more than a few times." His other teammates are looking at him, and Bobby ducks his head out of habit.
"Jesus, who'd have thought Bobby Ryan would be ducking some poor girl's phone calls," someone else at the table says and everyone laughs.
"Probably calling to make sure he doesn't tell anyone," another voice chimes in. Bobby turns bright red, he knows it, but doesn't say anything. There's no reason to, really. They got the pronoun wrong and there's no reason he should correct them.
There's a game the next day and Bobby wants to do well, so he goes to bed early. His mom doesn't mention it, just hugs him tight when he says goodnight.
"Look alive out there, Bobby!" one of his linemates shouts from the other end of the bench, and Bobby nods, paying attention to the plays on the ice. He has to concentrate, because that last shift was complete shit and he can't be doing that.
They lose 5-1, and Bobby's on the ice for all but two goals against. It’s a terrible feeling, and Bobby knows he did this to himself, that there's no excuse for playing this badly, no matter what.
Coach calls him into his office after, to talk to him. "I spoke to your mother, Bobby," he begins, and Bobby winces because it's always like this. He knows people care about him, that everyone just wants what's best for him. It's why he likes Getzy so much, because Getzy treats him like a kid, but that's because he's kind of a dick. Everyone else does it because they see him as the kid that they used to help buy hockey equipment for and offer rides to the airport because his mom was working. Some days, Bobby really misses being home-schooled.
"Of course I understand, Bobby," his coach is telling him, and Bobby's sort of slumping into himself, trying to disappear. He usually likes it when Coach pulls him aside and gives him a few tips, or talks about how Bobby can improve. Usually Coach isn't talking about his dad, though.
"Thanks, Coach," Bobby says when he's done talking. He takes the handshake Coach offers and then leaves, heading back for the locker room.
He gets a gross, dirty sock thrown at his face when he gets there and scowls. "Fuck you," he says to the whole room.
"We know what the answer probably is, Bobby," one of his teammates asks. "But did you want to come with us to a party?" The party's at a college that isn't Getzy's and all the guys promise there's gonna be tons of booze.
"Yeah, actually," Bobby says, nodding. "I want to go." His teammates all applaud him, and then they all have to get showered and dressed and pile into cars.
"What's in this?" Bobby asks, blinking slowly at the girl pouring drinks. It's pink and fruity and tastes like cherry candy. The last one was green and fizzy and tasted like lime, and the one before that was electric blue and tasted like pineapples. The girl laughs and then smiles wide and a little mean.
"You want another, kid?" she asks, not answering his question.
He looks down at his drink and then tosses the rest of it back, handing it to her with a nod. "Thank you," he says, biting his lip.
She looks up and gives him a fond smile. "You're welcome, kid." She hands him his drink. "Try not to over-do it, okay?"
Bobby's pretty sure he's well past over-doing it, but he nods, solemnly. She ruffles his hair and moves away, possibly to make more drinks and possibly to join the party. Bobby's mostly watching and drinking for now. He'd danced a little earlier, when he still knew where his teammates were, but stopped when his teammates started actually crying with laughter while watching him.
Bobby's not that great a dancer.
"It's my lucky day," Justin's voice says from behind him, and then he feels Justin's arm slide around him. He's warm and shorter than Bobby, so when he tries to hook his chin on Bobby's shoulder he's having to stand on his tip-toes to do it. He kisses behind Bobby's ear, and Bobby shudders for a second before remembering that he and Justin are broken up. Getzy said so.
"No," Bobby says and turns. It means he pulls away from him and Justin has to hold onto Bobby to keep from falling over.
"Is something wrong?" Justin asks, and he looks confused.
"I wanted," he says and frowns. Justin wasn't supposed to be here. "You weren't supposed to be here," he says, and Justin frowns.
"Are you here with... someone else?" he asks. Bobby shakes his head, and that doesn't feel good, so he stops.
"I was going to ignore you until you went away," he says, frowning.
"Wait, seriously?" Justin asks, and he looks stunned. "I thought... if this is about the handjob, Bobby, we don't have to do that again." He reaches out, rests his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "I know you're a lot younger than me. I know you're--" He looks around and lowers his voice, leaning in so Bobby can hear him. "I know you're a virgin and I don't care. We can take this slow."
"I'm not--" Bobby starts, but he kind of is, mostly. "I'm at least 3/4ths not a virgin," he says, emphatically. Justin frowns.
"Bobby... how much have you had to drink?" Justin asks, and Bobby looks away, because he's a little embarrassed by how few drinks it took.
"I don't," he says, but then he sees something in the corner of his eye. He turns his head and there's Getzy. He's talking to someone, some girl, and Bobby's stomach turns over and he wants to look away.
Except Getzy sees him, stares at him for a moment before taking in who he's with, and his mouth flattens into an angry line. "I'm gonna go," Bobby says and squirms out of Justin' grasp. Justin tries to grab for him again, but Bobby plays hockey. Even drunk, he can dodge out of his way. He heads for the hallway, and he's surprised when he's shoved from behind into another hallway. This one is darker, quieter, and Bobby's slammed into the wall, right before he's turned around.
It's Getzy. Of course it is. Who else would touch him like this? Who else would shove him so hard into the wall that some of his bruises from the game are singing and then turn him around and press up against him, warm all over?
"What was that?" Getzy asks. He's staring at Bobby, looking completely pissed. "I told you, Bobby. I told you." Getzy's holding his wrists against the wall, pinning him there, and Bobby's breath is already coming shorter.
"I was just talking to him," Bobby says. "I've been, he texted me and called me. I was ignoring him. I was--I didn't know he was going to be here, I swear, Getzy." He stares up at Getzy, swallowing hard because having Getzy with him feels so, so good. He'd wanted this, all day and yesterday too. Things just seem simpler with Getzy around because he's all he has to focus on, all he can focus on.
"I was just, I swear, Getzy, I was--" He cuts himself off and leans in, pressing his face to Getzy's shoulder. He isn't aware he's crying until Getzy lets go of his wrists and is stroking his hand down Bobby's back.
"It's okay, Bobby," Getzy whispers. "Shhhh, it's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay." Getzy's hand is warm on his back, and Bobby leans into him, putting his arms around Getzy and letting Getzy hold him close. "C'mon," Getzy finally whispers into his ear. "I'll take you home."
Bobby shakes his head. He knows how drunk he is and he knows he doesn't want to go home, to the letter that's waiting, unopened, in his top drawer. He doesn't want to face his mom or... anything. "I don't want to go home," he tells Getzy and leans up to kiss him. "Please."
"You want to stay over with me?" he asks, and Bobby nods. That's perfect, that's exactly what he wants.
Getzy's roommate is out. According to Getzy, his roommate is out a lot. He sees him between classes, but he never sleeps in their dorm room. Getzy drives him back to the school and calls their parents on the way. "Hey, it's Ryan," Getzy says into the phone, and Bobby can hear his mom crying on the other end of the line. "No, no, I've got Bobby. Yes. I swear. No, he's fine. He just... he had a bad day. I heard his team lost?" Getzy sounds really unsure, like he has no clue why Bobby might be so upset. "Yeah, yeah, you can talk to him."
Getzy hands him his phone, and Bobby tries really hard, to think soberly. "Hey, Mom," he says, softly. "No," he says, when she asks if he's okay. "No, I'm fine. The team lost and... I'm really down. I think I'm going to sleep at Getzy's and head home in the morning." His mom is silent on the other end for a second and Bobby lets out a slow breath. "I just need some space."
"Okay, Bobby," his mom says. "If that's what you need."
"Thanks," Bobby says, softly and trying not to slur. He hopes his lisp covers up for it. "I... I love you."
His mom has been great. She's always been great and she's always looked out for him. His mom made sure he kept playing, while they were hiding, afterward, when his dad went to prison and it was just the two of them. Even now, when she's remarried, she talks to his coach to make sure he knows what's going on with him, because she's looking out for him, because she's always been there for him. She hangs up, though, with a love you too, and Bobby can breathe for real.
"Smooth," Getzy says, and Bobby throws his phone at him.
"I can sound really sober," Bobby says.
"Not when you're this drunk," Getzy says and keeps going. It's late when they get to Getzy's university, later when they creep up to Getzy's room. Bobby skins out of his clothes, strips down to his boxers, and Getzy does too.
"I can share with you, right?" Bobby asks, biting his lip and looking down.
"Quit it," Getzy says and grabs hold of Bobby, dragging him down to the bed. They lie there for a second and Bobby breathes in the scent of Getzy's skin, closing his eyes and just letting the pure want take him over.
"Getzy," Bobby says, pulling Getzy close, and Getzy kisses Bobby's cheek.
"Shhh," Getzy says. "You're tired, drunk and not thinking clearly."
"I am," Bobby says. "I swear. I... you know I think about it. I... I think about this all the time."
"Bobby," Getzy says, biting his lip. "You shouldn't--"
"I should," Bobby says and leans in, kisses Getzy. "I just, please, Getzy. Please. Just, touch me." Getzy kisses him back and Bobby closes his eyes, tries to lose himself in it. Getzy always kisses him hard, mouth, lips and teeth pressing, taking, like Bobby might go anywhere.
"I thought," Getzy says, between kisses. "I thought you'd changed your mind. When I saw you with Justin. I thought--" Getzy presses his forehead to Bobby's throat and Bobby smells Getzy's hair. He's holding Getzy's shoulders, patting them softly. "You can, Bobby. You can change your mind."
"I won't," Bobby says. "I won't. I swear. I just want--"
"Shh," Getzy says and rolls on top of Bobby. It feels good, having Getzy on top of him, pressing him down into the mattress. "You shouldn't--"
"I want you to fuck me," Bobby says, arching his hips against him. "I want you inside me, I keep thinking about it. I jerk off thinking about having you--" Getzy cuts him off with another kiss, biting Bobby's lower lip.
"Shut up, Bobby," Getzy says, holding him down. His hands are on Bobby's hips, fingernails scraping over his skin. "You're drunk. We can't... you can't say shit like that when you're too drunk to act on it."
"No, we can!" Bobby tells him. He means it. He wants Getzy to fuck him, he thinks about it all the time.
"We really, really can't," Getzy says, letting his forehead drop against Bobby's. Bobby rocks his hips up and Getzy rolls his own down against him.
"Getzy, I want--" Bobby says, knowing he's begging and not caring. "Just touch me."
"Shhh," Getzy says and presses a kiss to Bobby's forehead. Bobby's about to complain, but Getzy reaches between them, shoves his hand down the front of Bobby's underwear, and all Bobby can do is groan. Getzy's hands are so big and callused and he's pulling Bobby's underwear down, shoving them too hard, and it hurts for a second, and then Bobby hears the sound of tearing fabric.
"Oh," Bobby says and feels his eyes going wide. He lifts his hips, so Getzy can finish pulling them down, and then he's naked, with Getzy. He spits in his hand and then brings it back, closing it around Bobby's dick, and Bobby groans and spreads his legs.
"Okay," Getzy says, twisting his wrist around Bobby. Bobby has his eyes closed, head dropped back onto Getzy's pillow. "Okay, you can talk now."
"Huh?" Bobby asks, opening his eyes. Getzy's staring at him and he's breathing hard.
Getzy bites his lip and tightens his grip around Bobby. "What you were saying before," he says. Bobby blinks, trying to remember what he'd been saying. "About... tell me what you think about when you jerk off."
Bobby stares for a second more and then feels himself blush all the way down. He looks down, but that just means he's looking down his body, at Getzy's hand around his dick, jerking him. "I... I touch myself," he says. "When I'm jerking off. Sometimes, I put my fingers down there." He swallows and Getzy groans, twisting his wrist. "I think about you doing it. I want your fingers inside me. I... I've never done that before but I want you to. I want... I know you'd make it good, Getzy. I know you would." He's breathing hard now, arching his hips up into Getzy's fist, thinking about it. He wants to reach down and do it now, wants to watch Getzy watch him, even if he won't touch him like that right now.
"Fuck," Getzy says and squeezes Bobby's dick. He comes, hard, into Getzy's fist and he's honestly surprised by it. Bobby blinks up at Getzy, and Getzy closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Bobby's, stroking him through it. "Bobby," Getzy whispers, and Bobby shudders.
"Are you going to--?" Bobby asks and looks down at Getzy's underwear. He's hard, Bobby can feel it, and Getzy takes a deep breath before shoving his underwear down too. That means they're naked now, and Bobby almost can't believe it. He reaches down and Getzy backs off a bit, but Bobby's just wrapping Getzy's hand around himself. It's the same hand he was jerking Bobby off with, still sticky with Bobby's come, and Getzy groans but does it. He's jerking himself, fucking his fist, and his hips are moving with it. It means the tip of his dick is dragging against Bobby's hip every few seconds, hot and wet with precome.
"You can, you know," Bobby says, and Getzy looks at him, puzzled, so Bobby bites his lip. "You can come on me, if you want."
Getzy watches him for a second. "Is that what you want?" he asks, sliding his hand over his dick and leaning in so the head slides over Bobby's skin.
Bobby nods, and Getzy just stares at him. "Please," he finally whispers, and Getzy does. He's stroking himself fast and hard and Bobby watches, fascinated and trying to remember how he touches himself, what he does. Bobby wants to do that for him, wants to make Getzy groan and arch his hips.
"Bobby, Bobby," Getzy repeats, breath hot on his neck, and then Getzy's coming, hot and sudden and all over Bobby's stomach. Bobby feels like he can't breathe.
"Motherfucker," Getzy says and reaches down to run his hands through the mess on Bobby's stomach. Bobby shivers, closing his eyes. "You like that," Getzy says, because it's not really a question, but he sounds surprised anyway. "Jesus, Bobby."
"Sorry," Bobby says, blushing again. Now that he's come, he feels tired, body and eyes heavy.
"No," Getzy says and Bobby opens his eyes and looks up at him. "It's fine, Bobby. It's good, I swear." Getzy rolls away and grabs a towel off the floor. He wipes his hands clean with it and then turns to Bobby with it. Bobby expects him to toss him the towel, so Bobby can clean up, but instead he starts wiping at Bobby's stomach and over his dick, cleaning up the mess there himself. Bobby likes it and he closes his eyes to enjoy it.
He doesn't open them again until Getzy's stretching out beside him on the bed. He turns his head to watch him, and his head feels like it weighs a million pounds. "C'mon," Getzy says and holds out his arm, pulling Bobby in against him. He ends up with his head on Getzy's shoulder and his arm around Getzy's chest. He's warm and sated and it feels like hours since he last had to think about everything with his dad.
At least, it feels that way until Getzy kisses his forehead, hugs him tight and asks, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
Bobby turns his face into Getzy's neck, so he won't have to lie to his face. "I told you. My team lost. I played like shit and it's been... it's been a rough couple weeks," he says. That's all true, especially the part about what a rough few weeks it's been. He just doesn't see any reason to mention that his dad getting out of prison and probably asking to see him was the majority of what made it rough.
"Go to sleep, Bobby," Getzy says, kissing his forehead again. Bobby's entire body feels like lead, so he closes his eyes and does as Getzy says.
Bobby wakes up alone and more than a little cold. His head hurts. Actually, it’s killing him. He blinks an eye open, hoping to catch sight of the time and catches sight of it, a huge glass of water and a bottle of Advil. Bobby struggles with the childproof cap for a second and then shakes three out into his hand. He tries to dry swallow and then thinks better of it, downing them with the entire glass of water. He’s lying back down, planning to sleep it off some more before he starts freaking out over waking up alone, when his phone rings.
Ordinarily, he’d leave it, but that’s his mom’s ringtone. “Hey, Mom,” he says, picking it up.
“Bobby,” his mom says, and she sounds a little upset. “Are you... I didn’t want to make you talk in front of Ryan last night.”
“Thanks,” Bobby says, because he’s honestly so, so grateful for that. “Getzy’s not here right now.”
“Bobby, you have to promise me that you’ll tell me if you go to New Jersey,” his mom says, rushing through it. “I’m not saying you can’t. I just... I just want to know, because last night I didn’t know where you were and you literally could have been anywhere.”
“I won’t,” Bobby assures her. “I’ll tell you if I go somewhere like that. I wouldn’t just go. I’d never do that to you.” They’ve been a team for years, his mom deserves better. She lets out a shuddering breath and Bobby knows, if he were there with her, she’d be crying in that silent way she has, where the tears are falling but she’s not making any noise.
“Thank you, Bobby,” she says. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
“I love you,” Bobby says and looks up when the door to Getzy’s dorm opens. It’s Getzy and he’s carrying a tray of food. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay, Bobby,” his mom says. “Oh! Wait!” He does, though it’s hard because he’s naked and Getzy’s dressed, and Getzy’s holding food and looking at him. “I gave your father your cell phone number. So he’ll probably try to call you.”
Bobby’s eyes jerk away from Getzy and he frowns. “Wait, what?” he asks.
“He called me looking for you this morning, and I gave him your number and said you wouldn’t answer until at least noon,” she says.
“Is that... that’s not supposed to happen, is it?” Bobby has to talk around it, with Getzy in the room, but he thought the letter from the state had said his dad couldn’t contact his mom.
“He’s allowed to call,” she says. “He just can’t come see me.” Bobby’s head hurt before, because he’s hungover, but it hurts even worse now.
“Okay,” he says. “Thanks for telling me.” They hang up, and Getzy comes to sit down next to him on the bed. He’s in a hoodie from his hockey team and sweats. He’s holding out a bottle of water.
“I got some real breakfast and also some meal bars,” Getzy says, setting down the tray on the bed. There’s eggs and toast covered in a paper plate, some meal bars, some cereal and a couple protein shakes. Bobby smiles up at Getzy and Getzy smiles back.
“Eat up, I gotta get you back home,” he says. Bobby tucks into some eggs and opens a protein shake, double-fisting for a second before he hears his phone go off.
It’s not a ringtone he recognizes, and when he looks at the display, he doesn’t recognize the number. He thinks for a moment about what his mom said, about giving his number to his dad, and sets his fork down. He hits ‘ignore’ and goes back to his eggs, shoveling them into his mouth as fast as he can.
Bobby can feel Getzy’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know what he’d say. He finishes breakfast and his phone rings again. Bobby hits ignore again after a quick glance and grabs the bottle of water Getzy bought.
“Feeling better?” Getzy asks, and Bobby nods. He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to see how much better his head actually feels. Getzy’s breathing next to him, he can hear it and feel the heat of Getzy’s shoulder against his, so Bobby leans his head there, resting it on Getzy’s shoulder.
“Bobby,” Getzy says, and Bobby shakes his head softly, not bothering to open his eyes.
“Don’t,” he says, and Getzy sighs but shuts up. They just sit there for a few minutes, quiet and not talking about Getzy’s reasons why they really have to stop. Bobby could fall asleep like this, and he really is kind of tired.
His phone goes off, and Bobby has to open his eyes and get up off of Getzy to hit ‘ignore’. He also turns his phone to silent.
“Who was that?” Getzy asks, when Bobby moves back in to lean against him.
“No one,” Bobby says and tries to lay back down against Getzy. Getzy’s body is tense, though.
“If it’s Justin, I can talk to him if you don’t want to,” Getzy says, and Bobby sits up and glares, feeling hurt.
“It’s not Justin,” Bobby says. “I told you I wasn’t--”
“Your phone keeps going off and you keep hitting ignore,” Getzy says, and Bobby suddenly wants to hit him. He has... he has a lot more than just Getzy going on.
“I’m not, I wouldn’t!” Bobby says, suddenly very, very aware that he’s naked and Getzy isn’t. “You’re here, you, you’re in college and you’ve got people and, your roommate is never here!” He points at the room and the tray and his head hurts again. “So stop acting like I’m, like I’d... because I wouldn’t!”
He hates how young he sounds, how vulnerable and exposed he feels, and he really, really wishes he’d at least put his underwear back on last night. Except he can’t, because Getzy ripped them.
He looks down at the bed. “I need to borrow a pair of underwear,” he says, and Getzy gets up, goes over to his dresser and gets them for him. Bobby has to wrap a towel around his waist and carry his clothes to the showers so he doesn’t smell when he gets home, but he doesn’t mind. It’s just like showering after a game, only he doesn’t know anyone else.
He comes back to Getzy’s room, clean and damp, in yesterday’s clothes, and stands in the doorway. “Are you going to take me home now?” Bobby asks.
Getzy looks up and nods, and then they head out. In Getzy’s car, they have to turn up the heater, because Getzy just shoved his feet into a pair of shoes without socks and he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. They don’t talk, but it’s a long enough drive that slowly, Bobby calms down.
When they pull up to their house, Bobby reaches for the door handle and Getzy reaches out, touches Bobby’s shoulder. “Bobby,” Getzy says, and Bobby turns back to look at him.
“I don’t--” Bobby says, interrupting whatever Getzy was going to say. “Don’t think like that about me. I wouldn’t... I want this. You’re the one that’s... so don’t think that about me.” Bobby’s voice is shaky the entire time he says it, and he thinks his hands are shaking, but he needs to say this. He’s not like that, couldn’t be like that.
Getzy pulls him against his side, into a sort of half-hug, and kisses his forehead. “I’m sorry, Bobby,” he says. “I’m sorry.” Bobby nods and then pulls away. He’s got the door to Getzy’s car open and is up the driveway as fast as he can, because he’s already cried in front of Getzy once in the past twenty-four hours and he doesn’t want to again.
He leans up against the door once he’s inside, and he doesn’t hear Getzy’s car drive away. He looks out the window by the door and it’s still there. “Bobby?” his mom calls out from the kitchen, and Bobby jumps.
“Yeah, it’s me, Mom!” he says. In his pocket, his phone vibrates, and Bobby ignores it. “I’m gonna take a nap so practice doesn’t kill me this afternoon.” Lying down and closing his eyes feels great, perfect, like he hadn’t slept at all last night and this might be the first he’s had in a while. It usually takes hard games or practices to make him feel this way. Bobby remembers to turn his phone off and turns onto his stomach, wishing it was that easy.
Chris and his mom leave for their late honeymoon on Monday, and Bobby's mom nearly calls the whole thing off. "I planned this before, Bobby," she says, hugging him. Bobby hugs back and shakes his head.
"It's fine, Mom. I'm fine," he says. She looks at him and bites her lip. Bobby frowns. "I'm not going to go to New Jersey while you're gone." He wants to say something mean, something cutting like running away in the middle of the night isn't my style, but it would hurt her feelings, and Bobby honestly isn't mad.
He just wishes people would stop projecting their mistakes onto him.
"Go to school," his mom says, sternly now.
"Every day," Bobby answers. "I've got that big game in Camden on Wednesday. I miss any school and I get scratched. Stop worrying."
"Never," she says and hugs him tight. She kisses his cheek and then goes up on her tip-toes to kiss his forehead. It makes him blush and duck his head, like anyone else is up early enough to see his mom babying him in their driveway.
"You're gonna miss your flight," he says, and she shoves at him and then gets into the car. Bobby waves to Chris in the front seat and goes back inside to get ready for school. He turns his phone back on, and he's got one more missed call and some texts.
Two of them are from Getzy. sry bout ysterday ino ur not like that bobby. and ur ringtone sucks tho. Bobby reads them and smiles, because that's more like the Getzy he wants talking to him. It's a really Getzy kind of apology too.
Getzy texts him a few more times during the day, the patch of mold in his dorm's kitchen that no one knows how to clean, the stack of books that Getzy has to read for one of his classes and finally his hockey pads, set up in Getzy's stall in the locker room.
those shoulderpads r huge trying to hide ur pigeonarms?
Getzy texts back. sweet chirp from some1 whose last curl was covered in cheese
Bobby takes a picture of himself flipping off his phone and then gets his phone taken away. He remembers to write down Getzy's chirp about cheese curls though. It was good.
The game in Camden comes up, and Bobby's so fucking excited. He knows he's starting, knows his line is out first tonight, and it has him amped all day. He just feels good in that way that playing hockey can almost always make him feel. He knows what he has to do, out on the
ice, it's not a question.
No one wants to sit next to him on the bus because he's practically vibrating he's so ready. "Save some for the game, Bobby," Coach yells to him during warm-ups, and Bobby blushes but turns it down a bit. He heads back for the locker room so the other team can warm up, and he's completely floored when he sees Getzy leaning against the wall leading into their locker room.
"Hey!" Bobby says, smiling. Getzy smiles back, tentative at first, probably still remembering the weekend, but he clearly means it once Bobby's smiling at him.
"You always treat warm-ups like Game 7 of the final?" Getzy asks, kicking at the toe of Bobby's skate. He has to look up a bit to tease him, because on skates, Bobby's finally taller than him.
Bobby blushes. "I've really been looking forward to this game," he admits. "Like for a while. My coach already got on my ass about it, though, so no need."
Getzy nods. "So, you gonna make it worth me hauling it all the way out here to see you?"
Bobby blushes even harder this time, ducking his head. Getzy laughs. "I meant the game, Bobby," he says, and Bobby knows he can't be blushing harder but he wants to. He can't help it that he almost always associates Getzy with sex.
Bobby swallows and leans in. "I could do both," he says. Getzy startles, blinks at him. "I could make it worth it here at the game and... after," he says.
"Bobby--" he begins, and Bobby interrupts him.
"No one's at home, remember?" he asks.
Getzy looks like he's about to give in, like he just needs a reason. "We really shouldn't--"
"No one has to know," Bobby says, lowering his voice. He licks his lips and Getzy tracks it with his eyes. "I can keep a secret, can't you?"
He knows, as soon as Getzy closes his eyes, that he's going to agree. He knows that look, and Getzy wants this, just as much as Bobby does. "I'll drive you home, will your coach be okay with that?" he asks, and Bobby smiles and nods. "Great, now how about you go out there and score me some goals, Silver?"
Bobby's team comes out flying. They're just clicking, passes going tape to tape, finishing their checks, and it only takes until six minutes into the first for them to get on the board. Bobby's got the assist, not the goal, and he knows if that's all he ends up with, Getzy will never let him hear the end of it.
He's got a beauty of a chance while the clock's running down in the first, but the goalie blocks it and one of his teammates taps in the rebound. Bobby spends intermission taking a breather and assuring himself he'll get it done in the later periods. He knows it’s about the team, not him, but he really wants to impress Getzy.
Luckily, his attitude seems infectious, and his teammates don't let up in the next period. Bobby's got to do his fair share of winning some board battles and delivering some hits, but he's rewarded when he manages to tip in a complete garbage goal in the middle of a scramble in front of the goalie. Doesn't matter how pretty it isn't, he'll take it. He gets his hugs and high-fives with his team in and wants to look for Getzy the next time he's on the bench, but the other team scores almost immediately, and Bobby can't. He skates hard for the rest of the period, trying to get it back, give them some more space, but they keep coming up empty.
In the third period, Bobby grabs another assist when he centers the puck for one of his teammates to score on. Bobby's ecstatic and throws himself into the hug with his teammates, but they all remember what happened last time, so everyone stays on it. With ten minutes to go, Bobby dangles around two defensemen for a breakaway opportunity and roofs it blockerside like the goalie is standing still. He almost can't believe he did it, but his teammates come and crush him against the glass, congratulating him on it, and Bobby can only laugh.
This time, he does dare to look up to see if Getzy saw. Getzy's up pretty high and when he catches Bobby watching him, he mimes for him to pay attention, but he's smiling, so Bobby does too. He wants to yell or shout and feels like his face might split open under the force of his own grin. He's turning back to the ice, doing as Getzy says and going back to paying attention to the game, when he catches sight of something out of the corner of his eye.
He looks different, older and a little grayer, but Bobby would recognize him anywhere. He feels his body go cold, the smile melting off his face, and suddenly the game feels far away. He gets nudged by a teammate to shove down and tries to focus back on the game, to focus period, but he can't help it.
He should have known. Camden is... it's in New Jersey, after all, but Bobby doesn't know how his father could have found out his game schedule or why he'd come.
Bobby's team wins, of course, and the locker room is full of shouting and cheering, but Bobby doesn't join in. He feels cold all over, sitting in the visitor's locker room and silently stripping off his pads and gear.
"The fuck, Bobby. You're amped for warm-up and can't get it up for a win like that?" one of his teammates shouts, and when Bobby looks up, a gross, sweaty hockey sock hits him smack in the face.
"Maybe he's just gassed from backchecking for your out-of-position ass all game!" someone else yells.
"Yeah, like Bobby's ever played defense in his life," another of his teammates laughs, and everyone else laughs too. It's a bit of a relief that Bobby doesn't have to speak to everyone. His teammates are doing it for him.
"Bobby!" his coach shouts, and Bobby looks up at him. "Your older brother's still taking you home, right?" he asks and Bobby nods. "All right then. I need you showered and dressed ASAP so your brother can sign your permission slip. Everyone else, you've got ten minutes to shower and dress, the bus is leaving in twenty. You all had a good game tonight, boys. A very good game." He claps his hands a few times for them and then heads right back out of the locker room.
It means everyone starts moving at once, and Bobby has to hurry, needs to rush so he can grab Getzy, get his stuff signed and get out before his father realizes he's not leaving with his other teammates. He doesn't bother properly drying his hair, even though he knows he's going to be cold as hell as soon as he goes outside. He's dripping faintly onto his shirt when he leaves the locker room with his school bag and hockey bag slung over opposite shoulders, and Getzy's out there, signing papers for his coach.
"Lucky your mom put me down as a contact, eh?" Getzy asks and Bobby nods, absently.
"Let's go," he says and tries to smile over the tight, sick feeling in his stomach. Getzy just nods and leads him out of the hallway and toward what Bobby assumes is the regular entrance and exit.
"I guess you really delivered, eh, Silver?" Getzy says and hipchecks him while they walk. It makes Bobby smile, for real, for just a second, and then he looks ahead and sees his dad. He's standing right in front of the door, and there's no way they can avoid him, because he's seen them.
He smiles at Bobby, and Bobby feels his entire body go tense. He's still moving, though, so he's there by the door in only a few moments. "Great game, Bobby," his dad says. "I'm so glad I caught it.”
Bobby just stands there, frozen and staring. He's not sure he's still breathing. Beside him, Getzy looks between Bobby and his dad, clearly curious. "Oh," his dad says and holds out his hand. "I'm Bob Stevenson," he tells Getzy.
"Ryan Getzlaf," Getzy answers automatically, taking his dad's hand and smiling like the good Canadian boy he pretends to be all the time.
"What are you doing here?" Bobby asks, finally managing to make words.
"I came to watch you play," his dad answers and really looks like he meant it.
"Stevenson," Getzy says, clearly trying to put something together and make sense out of this. "Like your mom used to be, right?"
His dad frowns. "I saw you were still using Ryan," he says, and Bobby's mouth falls into a thin line.
"Because it's my name," he says. "How did you even know where I was playing? I didn't--"
"I checked your school's website," his dad says. "I tried to call you, but I couldn't get ahold of you, and I didn't want to miss my only chance to see you play."
"Sixteen times," Bobby says. "You called sixteen times and sent fifty-seven letters and never got an answer for any of them." Bobby stares at his dad for a second, trying to say something, anything intelligent. "No one accidentally misses sixteen calls, Dad. No one."
Getzy's eyes have gone wide, and he's openly staring at both of them now. Bobby feels stupid and small and he just wants to go home.
"I just wanted to see you, Bobby," his dad tells him. "It's all I've thought about, for years. You know that."
Bobby feels his face crumple, knows he's on the verge of tears, but he somehow manages to shove it away. He knows that look on his dad's face. The last time he saw it was at his trial, when he had said he'd done it all for Bobby, that he'd just wanted to give Bobby more time with him.
"I'm not... I'm not ready to see you, Dad," Bobby says and it feels like something is clawing at his stomach from the inside. He blinks away his suddenly blurry vision and feels tears fall down his cheeks. "I can't... I just can't."
"Bobby--" His dad steps forward, one hand reaching out like he's going to rest it on Bobby's shoulder. He used to do that, in the old days. He would rest a hand on Bobby's shoulder while he taught him to play poker or told him to look after his mother while he was gone. Bobby knows he can't handle that, and he's ready to step back, but Getzy steps between them first.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I have to get Bobby home," Getzy says.
His father looks at Getzy, blinking in surprise. "You're his stepbrother, right?" his dad asks. Bobby can't see Getzy's face from this angle, but his shoulders straighten and Getzy's head lifts.
"I'm Bobby's friend and I just signed a paper saying I was taking him home, so that's what I'm going to do," Getzy says, and there isn't a dare in his voice, but it's a near thing.
"I haven't seen my son in--" his dad begins, but Bobby cuts him off.
"Dad," he says. "I... I'll call you, someday... soon, I swear. I just... I can't right now." His dad doesn't look certain, but he steps aside, and Getzy takes a step forward and to the side. They step forward and Getzy stays between Bobby and his dad the whole time.
"I love you, Bobby," his dad shouts after him. "I missed you." Bobby looks back over his shoulder, struck by how similar and different it is from when one of the US Marshals led him away from where his dad was being cuffed and read his rights. He's taller now, and his father looks... smaller than he did before. It still feels like a punch to the gut, though; that hasn't changed.
He nods at his dad and lets Getzy lead him out. He has one hand hovering over the small of Bobby's back and even though it's pointless, the solid heat of Getzy along his side is reassuring. He wishes he could lean against Getzy, pull his arm around him or just get a hug, but this isn't the time or the place.
Getzy helps shove his things into the car and then opens Bobby's door for him. He doesn't look at Bobby while he does it, though, doesn't make any jokes or try and tease Bobby for anything. That can't be a good sign.
He's silent on the ride home, pressed up against the door and watching the other cars pass by. They don't stop for dinner, and Bobby hopes Getzy isn't mad at him. When they pull in front of their house, Bobby's worried for a second that Getzy's going to drop him off and go, but Getzy pulls into the driveway and parks. They're still silent going inside. Bobby carries his school bag, but Getzy has his hockey gear. Ordinarily, Bobby would blush and maybe tease Getzy about carrying his bag for him... but not now.
They both head for their room, Bobby to drop off his stuff and Getzy following. He closes the door behind them, though, and just stares at Bobby for a second. "Stop," Bobby says, looking away. He sets his school bag down next to his bed. When he glances over, Getzy's still looking. "I mean it, quit staring at me."
"Jesus fucking Christ, Bobby," Getzy says. "I... what the fuck just happened?"
Bobby shrugs and throws himself down onto his back on his bed. "We ran into my dad, I didn't want to talk to him."
"I thought he was your uncle," Getzy says, coming to sit on the end of the bed. He's put down Bobby's gear at some point, though Bobby doesn't know where. "Because of his name. Bobby... I'm not... I don't understand what just happened and you were crying and I'm starting to think all your weird everything lately hasn't been about me at all. Can't you just, explain it to me? Why is he talking to you now? Why... whatever you want to tell me, Bobby." He's bending over him, one hand resting on Bobby's side.
It's the best opening, probably, and Getzy had to find out some time. "He just got out of prison," he tells him. Getzy blinks, surprised, so Bobby closes his eyes. He can't say this and look at Getzy reacting to it, he just can't. He tells him the whole story, about his dad losing his temper that night and what the police said he did. He tells Getzy about heading west, getting in the car with his mom and just driving and driving until they hit the Pacific Ocean. He tells him about the time they spent in California, the tiny apartment and his mom and dad both working to keep a roof over their heads.
He's never told this story, to anyone. Everyone else has always just found out and made their own conclusions. They didn't get to hear about how much Bobby loved going down to the beach or how he used to stare at the rollerbladers and surfers. In hindsight, he's pretty sure he was checking them out. All of the time spent staring at surfers and learning how to properly wax a surfboard... he thinks it was an excuse to be around the hot guys in Redondo Beach. It seems really obvious, now. Bobby feels kind of dumb for not seeing it earlier.
He keeps his eyes closed the whole time, even when he starts crying, when he tells Getzy about being home-schooled and how lonely it was and how it felt when the US Marshals took his dad away. It feels terrible, finally telling someone how it felt from his perspective, and it also feels kind of nice. No one asked. He thought he'd have to testify, but his father's lawyers didn't think a kid Bobby's age testifying about his time on the lam would make his father look very sympathetic.
"He really does love me," Bobby says, because at the end of the day, he believes that. "I know... I know a lot of people roll their eyes about him saying he did it for me, but I believe it." Bobby opens his eyes, looking up at Getzy, and he's blurry from Bobby's tears, but Bobby doesn't think he's looking at him like he's dumb. His dad made a lot of mistakes, but Bobby knows he loves him.
Bobby wants to reach up and wipe at his eyes, but Getzy gets there first. "He's your dad, Bobby," Getzy says. "Of course he loves you." He swipes his thumb under Bobby's eye when he says it and then does the other one. "It's okay that you love him too, you know."
"I'm not ready to--" Bobby starts, and Getzy leans in and kisses him, cutting him off.
"Just because you love him, doesn't mean you want to see him or are ready to talk to him or forgive him."
Bobby closes his eyes for a second, because it’s what he wanted someone to tell him, so badly. He smiles, and he knows it’s small, but he really means it. "I can't believe I didn't even know your name," Getzy says, dropping down onto the bed beside him.
Bobby frowns. "You did. You do," he says. Getzy smiles.
"Right, but your real name," he says.
"It is my real name," Bobby says. "Legally and... for a long time." He really is Bobby Ryan, and has been for longer than he was ever Bobby Stevenson.
"Wasn't it confusing? I would have messed up. How did you not?"
"I told you," Bobby says, turning onto his side so he's facing Getzy. "I can keep a secret." Getzy's mouth falls open, a shocked expression falling across his face, and then he's leaning in to kiss Bobby, hard, and pull him against his front.
Getzy's mouth is hard and harsh against his own, and at first he's holding Bobby against him, but it isn't long before he's rolling Bobby onto his back and getting on top of him. Ever since they started this, Bobby's loved the way it feels when Getzy's pressing him into the mattress with his body. He's so solid and warm and it always feels possessive, like Getzy's holding him where no one else can ever get him. Bobby likes that and he wants to feel that way now, so he leans back, spreading his thighs so Getzy can fit between them, and takes it.
It's all harsh, biting kisses and Getzy's hand shoving up Bobby's shirt. He scrapes his nails over Bobby's nipples and Bobby gasps. "Bobby," Getzy whispers against his mouth and then he bites Bobby's lower lip, hard. Getzy runs his hand down Bobby's side this time, scraping his nails there, and Bobby just shudders.
"Strip that off," Getzy says, nodding toward Bobby's chest. He's reaching for Bobby's fly, twisting open the button and pulling down the zipper. Bobby reaches for his shirt, pulling it up and off. It gets caught on his elbows, because he's still lying down. He manages to get it over his head and then has to squirm a bit, trying to sit up enough to get free.
"Smooth, Bobby," Getzy says, and when Bobby looks up, he's looking down at him.
"Help me out," Bobby asks, wiggling a bit more. Getzy leans in, and Bobby's grateful for a second, until he feels Getzy's hand settle over where his wrists are and press his weight onto them. Bobby inhales sharply and stares up at him. Getzy pauses for just a moment, watching him, and then he uses his free hand to reach into Bobby's open flies.
It isn't actually different. Getzy's jerked him off before and doesn't really do anything differently this time. His hands are broad and rough and he grips just this side of too-tight, twisting his wrist every so often to break it up. But something about not being able to move, being pinned, makes it better.
Bobby's surprised by how much he likes not being able to do anything about the way Getzy's touching him. He has to lie there and take what Getzy gives him, and it has him moaning and shuddering in no time. He comes like that, shaking under Getzy, and Getzy strokes him through it. He kisses him, hard like always, and Bobby feels boneless.
When Getzy pulls back, he's staring at Bobby, like he's trying to memorize him. He bites his lip and Bobby wants to ask him what's wrong, but Getzy brings his hand up to Bobby's mouth. He swipes his thumb against Bobby's lower lip, smearing Bobby's come there, and Bobby doesn't know what Getzy's looking for him to do, so he does what he wants. He licks his lip and then turns his head so he's facing Getzy's hand.
Bobby drags his tongue over Getzy's palm, licking off his own come, and Getzy shudders. It's so... Bobby doesn't think he can do this with Getzy staring at him, so he closes his eyes. He keeps them shut tight and opens his mouth, sucking Getzy's fingers inside.
It's good, Getzy's fingers taste like Bobby, and even once it's gone, Bobby keeps sucking. He does it like when he's sucking Getzy off, sliding his tongue over the pads of Getzy's fingers.
"Bobby," Getzy says, and when Bobby opens his eyes, Getzy's staring at him, eyes hot.
Bobby pulls back, flicking his tongue against Getzy's fingers one last time. "You're going to fuck me, right?" Bobby asks, eyes wide. He wants it, he wants it so, so much. Now more than ever, he wants to have Getzy inside him, to give this to him.
"Yeah," Getzy says and then swallows. "Yeah, we... fuck, Bobby. I've got lube, but it's in a box in the closet. Just... don't move, okay?"
Getzy getting off him means Bobby can sit up and pull his shirt off for real. Over in the closet, he can hear Getzy opening one of the boxes he never unpacked when Bobby moved in and thinks he probably has enough time to get his pants off for real. They're already open, all he has to do is pull them down and kick them off. He sends his underwear with them and then sort of lies back with his thighs spread to wait. Except he thinks he probably looks silly like that, so he tries to get up on his elbows and then bends his knee a little, trying to look inviting or alluring or something.
Getzy turns, lube in hand, and takes a single look at him before laughing. "The fuck, Bobby?" Getzy asks, and Bobby drops back down onto his back, sighing. He's staring at the ceiling and Getzy's still laughing when he drops back on top of him. There's a hand on Bobby's knee and then Getzy's pushing, spreading his thighs even more. It puts him on display, and Bobby knows that because Getzy's looking. He's staring at Bobby down there, and Bobby can feel himself blushing and his cock twitching with interest at the same time.
He's so embarrassed and so turned on at the same time, body hot and itchy with arousal and shame. Bobby swallows a few times and Getzy doesn't stop looking. Luckily, Bobby doesn't have to look back, he can just stare at the ceiling and wait, hoping Getzy's going to stop staring and start doing something sometime, anytime soon. Just when Bobby's starting to think he won't, he feels Getzy's fingers against the curve of his ass.
It's a soft, gentle touch, but Bobby starts anyway, feeling suddenly tense. "Shhh, Bobby." Getzy steadies him, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of Bobby's thigh. Bobby likes that, and he likes it even more when Getzy drags his mouth up and over Bobby's skin, so he's mouthing at Bobby's balls. He can hear Getzy fumbling with something, but it isn't until his fingers come back, cool and slick, that Bobby realizes he must have been getting the lube ready.
Lubed fingers slide over Bobby's inner thigh and then back through his cleft until they're pressing against Bobby's hole. He's done this much before, by himself. He's touched himself here with spit-slick fingers and thought about what he'd do after. "Please," he says, arching his hips up. "Getzy, please." There's wet pressure and then Getzy's sliding the tip of one finger inside of him.
Bobby frowns because it feels... weird at first. It doesn't feel bad or good, it's mostly a neutral sort of feeling, there but unremarkable. "Jesus," Getzy breathes, and when Bobby looks up at him, he's staring down, at where his finger must be pressing into Bobby. His face is... he looks like he's watching something really hot, and Bobby blushes harder thinking that it's him. It makes him want to earn it somehow, so he rocks down, onto Getzy's finger, trying to get it deeper.
"Bobby?" Getzy asks, and Bobby just nods up at him.
"It's good," he says, because it kind of is. Getzy's finger is thick and rough and Bobby likes this deep-down full feeling that he's starting to get. Then Getzy starts moving, twisting his finger inside of him, and Bobby squirms a little, but it doesn't actually feel bad. It's a bit of a stretch, but Bobby likes it. "You could... more. If you want?"
He has to sit up to say it, so he can assure Getzy that it'll be good, that he wants it. Bobby isn't expecting for Getzy to lean in, stretching over Bobby's body with one finger still inside of him and the other teasing at his entrance to kiss him. It's a good kiss, lots of tongue and even a quick bite, but he has to stop when he presses a second finger inside of Bobby. He has to stop because Bobby goes a little funny. He thinks he likes it, the stretch and how much fuller he feels, but he has to concentrate and breathe when all he wants to do is moan or whimper.
Bobby tries to rock down onto them, fuck himself open, but the second his hips start moving, Getzy's holding them against the bed. "Don't," he says and then bites Bobby's throat. "Just wait, Bobby. Let me do it." Bobby nods and lets Getzy do what he wants. It's a really, really good idea. Getzy keeps biting and sucking kisses into Bobby's neck and chest and he slowly twists his fingers inside of him. It's almost tortuously slow, but Getzy opens him up, fingerfucks him deep and stretches him until Bobby's hard again. Bobby can't sit up by then, he's lying back against the bed, shuddering and breathing harshly, not making near enough noise for it to count as a moan.
"Bobby, are you?" Getzy asks, and Bobby nods and keeps nodding.
"Yes, yes. You can, yes," he says. Getzy laughs, but it's shaky. He presses his mouth to Bobby's stomach and kisses him there.
"Okay, I'm gonna pull my fingers out and then I need you to turn over, eh," Getzy says, and Bobby frowns.
"You want me to turn over?" he asks.
"Onto your stomach, yeah," Getzy says. "Trust me, okay?"
He does as Getzy says, wincing when Getzy pulls his fingers out of him, but then rolls onto his stomach. Getzy spreads his thighs and then grabs his hips and pulls him up. If Bobby thought he'd been on display before, it's nothing compared to this. He can hear Getzy doing something with the lube and then he's back, pressed up against Bobby so Bobby can feel the slick slide of Getzy's dick against his hole.
"This is where I'm supposed to tell you to always glove up," Getzy says into the back of his neck.
"Oh, do you have--?" Bobby starts to ask.
"No," Getzy interrupts and kisses the back of his neck. "I know I'm clean, though, so it's not a problem. But I should tell you that you should always wrap it up when you do this with someone else."
"But?" Bobby asks, trying to look over his shoulder at Getzy.
"But I don't want you doing this with anyone else, Bobby," Getzy says, and Bobby gasps. "I mean it." Getzy presses against his entrance and pushes inside while he says it and Bobby moans. "No one else."
Getzy rocks forward and Bobby rocks back, gripping the sheets. He knows he's going too fast, that he should slow down, but he's wanted this for so long, wanted Getzy like this for what feels like forever. He closes his eyes and for a second, he can't believe that the needy, half-choked-off moans he's hearing are coming from him, but they are. Bobby shoves his hand in front of himself, wrapping it around his dick so he can fuck his own fist.
There's so much to concentrate on, the stretch and burn of Getzy inside of him, his own hand around himself and Getzy's teeth, biting hard at Bobby's shoulder and neck. It's almost too much, and Bobby's close far sooner than he thought he'd be. He tries to slow down, loosens his grip around his cock, but Getzy bites him harder, and even the lazier grip he has on himself feels like it might be enough to push him to the edge.
"Bobby," Getzy whispers breathlessly, pressing kisses against what have to be bite marks on Bobby's shoulders and back. It stings, but Bobby kind of likes it, and he definitely likes knowing they'll be there afterward.
"Getzy," Bobby answers. He tilts his hips up and rocks back onto him, bracing himself on the bed with his elbow. "Please, I--" he doesn't know what he's asking for, but Getzy rocks forward hard, fucking Bobby's dick into his hand, and Bobby comes with a whimpering moan.
"Did you just?" Getzy asks, and Bobby tilts his hips up again.
"Don't stop," he says, and Getzy groans but doesn't stop. He fucks him, faster and harder than before, and Bobby just takes it, boneless and shuddering. If he wasn't fucked out and oversensitive from coming, he'd probably be really, really embarrassed by the noises coming out of his mouth and throat. He sounds so needy and broken and like he's enjoying every minute of it. Getzy inside of him hurts and feels good at the same time, and it's with a combination of disappointment and relief that he feels the stutter in Getzy's hips that means he's about to come.
Getzy rocks forward one last time, pinning Bobby's hips to the bed and coming inside him. His mouth is pressed against Bobby's back, breathing hard into Bobby's skin, and Bobby doesn't want him to move.
After more than a second though, Getzy starts to get heavy and Bobby starts to feel the wet spot he's laying in. He's sweaty and sort of filthy and when Getzy moves, just a little, his cock slips out of him, and Bobby frowns at how weird that feels. "You okay?" Getzy asks. His hand is sliding down Bobby's shoulders and back and then back up again in a soothing pattern.
Bobby nods. "Yeah," he says and coughs so he doesn't sound so hoarse. "Yeah, I... that was... wow." Getzy laughs and then Bobby feels him leaning in again to kiss his shoulder.
"Wow, eh?" he asks. "I can live with that." He gets up then, and Bobby hears the door open. He wants to get up, follow him, but all of his limbs feel heavy, and Bobby can't believe his body is choosing now to get sleepy. He's yawning when he hears Getzy come back into the room and when he looks over his shoulder, he's got a damp washcloth and is leaning over him.
He has to hide his face against the bed while Getzy wipes him off and has to turn to hide it against his arm when Getzy makes him roll over so he can wipe down his belly, balls and cock. "Better than waking up in dried come, Bobby," Getzy assures him, but Bobby's embarrassed anyway. "Shove over, Silver," Getzy says, when he's finally back and trying to lie down on the clean side of the bed.
"That's where the wet spot is," Bobby complains, and Getzy rolls his eyes at him.
"I just came inside you, Bobby," he says, and it makes Bobby shudder to hear him say it. "Basically anywhere you lay down is going to become the wet spot, eh?" Bobby frowns, but Getzy pulls him back against him, onto his side, so he's only half in the wet spot. It also means he's pressed with his back to Getzy's front. "Better?" he asks, and Bobby nods. "Good. Go to sleep, Bobby."
He lies there for a second, thinking about Getzy's hand low on his belly and the achy, open feeling in his ass. He can't believe it's only been a day since he was throwing himself into preparing for the Camden game. It seems like it's been an impossibly long time since then and now. He closes his eyes and tries not to think about anything but how tired he is, from the fucking and the crying and all of the emotions he had today. Behind him, Getzy is snoring like the asshole he is, and all Bobby wants to do is join him.
Bobby wakes up alone, again. He's surprised because he doesn't remember falling asleep and also because he doesn't know where Getzy might be, his keys are on Bobby's dresser, he can see them. Then he hears some noises coming from inside the house, back near the kitchen. Bobby thinks Getzy might be talking to someone, but he's gross and sticky and has to piss so he doesn't bother to go find out. He goes to the bathroom, wincing when he moves to get out of bed and then blushing when he remembers why he's sore in so many weird places.
In the bathroom, Bobby pisses and then jumps into the shower. He stands under the spray until he's feeling less gross and sticky, then starts actually scrubbing at his body. He blushes when he has to wash his ass, scrubbing extra hard and wincing because he's so sore. He feels better afterward though. Once he's clean and has his teeth brushed, he's ready to head out and see what Getzy's doing.
The answer appears to be burning something... eggs by the look of it. He's got his cell phone pressed up against his ear, and he waves to Bobby and presses a finger to his mouth. Bobby nods and silently leans against the counter. He has the bright idea to jump up on the counter before thinking how much it might hurt, and he's already up there when he's wincing and holding back from making any noise. Getzy laughs, the dick.
"No, Dad. I'm just... yeah. I'm about to eat. Thanks and umm, you have a good trip, okay?" He's smiling kind of weird and Bobby thinks he might be blushing. "Love you too, Dad," Getzy says and then hangs up.
Bobby's staring at him when he finally looks over. "Oh whatever, Bobby," Getzy says, rolling his eyes. "Like you and your mom's endless rounds of hugs and kisses give you any high ground," he says, and brings a plateful of burned eggs over to him. There's two forks on the plate and Bobby honestly doesn't know what he's supposed to do with them for a second. "What?" Getzy asks.
"What am I supposed to do with that fork?" Bobby asks.
"Eat," Getzy says, and Bobby makes a face before poking the eggs. Where they're not burnt... they're grey. "Oh please. Like you're a gourmet chef."
Bobby pokes at them for a second more and then takes his first forkful. They taste like burn and... grey. Getzy takes a much bigger forkful and shoves them into his mouth. He chews, crunching for a second and then forcing himself to swallow. At Bobby's smug grin, Getzy lifts his chin defiantly and goes to take another forkful. Bobby puts his hand over Getzy's. "I have protein shakes in the fridge," he says. "They're premade and cold and... they're there?"
Getzy frowns but goes to the fridge. He tosses a shake to Bobby, and Bobby laughs, but drinks it. "Whatever, I can make eggs. I choose not to make them for you."
"Sure, Getzy," he says, rolling his eyes. They're silent for a second, Bobby sitting on the counter and Getzy standing next to him, drinking their shakes. Then Getzy moves so he's standing between Bobby's legs, and it's weird being taller than Getzy again, but he smiles, because he likes when Getzy's near him like this.
"So I was talking to my dad," Getzy says, and Bobby nods.
"Yeah, I noticed. I made fun of you for it, remember?" he asks, kicking at the back of Getzy's thigh with his heel, and then takes another drink of his protein shake.
"Right, but... before that. I asked him to stop talking about you the way he does, like you're his son or something," Getzy explains, and Bobby feels cold all over suddenly.
"Umm, is this about my dad?" he asks, because he doesn't think it's cool for Getzy to want his dad to not be nice to him just because Bobby has... a complicated past.
Getzy looks confused. "Huh? Not really?" he says. "I umm--" Getzy licks his lips and reaches out to grab hold of Bobby's hips. "I told him it made me feel weird about how into you I am."
He says it in a rush and Bobby thinks he might have misunderstood him, but Getzy's watching him expectantly. "You told him... really?" he asks.
Getzy nods and doesn't let go. It takes Bobby a second to realize he's trying to hold him in place, in case Bobby wanted to get away from him. "He said he would," Getzy tells him. "He also says I have to sleep on the couch from now on, too."
That last part sucks, because Bobby was looking forward to Getzy sneaking into bed with him when he came home on the weekends, but Bobby's still stuck on the part where Getzy told his dad about... this. "Why did you... I thought you didn't want him to know?"
He isn't expecting Getzy to kiss him, but he does, leaning up for Bobby's mouth, and Bobby lets him have it, sighing against his mouth. "I don't want to be someone that makes you keep secrets you don't want to, Bobby," Getzy says, and Bobby goes tense for a second, but then Getzy's kissing him again, pulling him against his body and pressing his tongue into Bobby's mouth. "Besides, this way I have an even better reason to chase away all the assholes that hit on you."
Bobby laughs against Getzy's mouth. "Thank you, Getzy," Bobby says, and Getzy bites Bobby's lower lip.
"You really wanna thank me, I could use a blowjob," he says, and Bobby wraps his arms around him and kisses him again.
"I meant it, about the blowjob, by the way," Getzy says, when they're both back to drinking their shakes. He's still standing between Bobby's knees, but they're mostly not touching each other as much. "We should probably get a lot of sex in around the house while we can, since, you know, that's over once Mom and Dad are home."
Bobby groans. "Don't call them that!" he says, but he still ends up on his knees, blowing Getzy up against the fridge a few minutes later.