( Warning: This chapter contains explicit scenes and intense themes)
Oat grabbed Lamon's hand firmly and led him quickly toward the locker room.
When they reached the door, Oat didn't go inside right away. Instead, he stood tall right in front of the entrance, using his own body like a shield to cover Lamon from everyone else.
He stayed there, blocking the view, until every single player had finally finished and walked away.
"The hallway was empty."
They stepped into the quiet locker room together. As soon as they were inside, Oat reached back and pushed the heavy door.
Click."
Lamon felt a sudden wave of surprise and his heart jumped when he saw Oat lock them in together.
The heavy door clicked shut with a deep, echoing thud that seemed to vibrate through the tiles of the empty room.
Leaving the two of them in a sudden, suffocating silence where the only sound was the steady drip of water falling from Lamon's soaked clothes onto the floor.
Oat didn't immediately let go of the younger boy's wrist; instead, his grip remained firm and steady as he guided him toward the very back row of lockers, his heart still hammering wildly against his ribs from the protective frustration he felt when he saw how every eye in the hallway had been glued to the way the wet fabric clung to Lamon's skin.
The dim light of the locker room cast long, flickering shadows against the walls, and as Oat finally reached into his locker to pull out a fresh, dry jersey, the scent of his own familiar cologne filled the small space between them, acting as a strange and intimate comfort that made the air feel even heavier.
He didn't just hand the shirt over, but held it for a long moment, his gaze fixed on Lamon's face as he tried to process the swirling emotions of wanting to hide the younger boy away from the world while also feeling a sudden, breathless shyness now that they were finally alone.
The fabric of the jersey was soft and warm in his hands, and when he stepped forward to press it firmly against Lamon's chest, his fingers accidentally brushed against the damp, cold fabric of the soaked shirt, causing a small tremor to run through both of them that made the atmosphere feel electric.
Oat leaned in just a bit closer, his shadow completely covering the smaller boy, and he could feel the heat radiating from Lamon's blushing face as he looked down at him with an intensity that he usually tried so hard to hide.
"You need to change into this right now because I really can't stand the thought of you catching a cold, and more importantly, I really hated the way every guy out there was staring at you like you were some kind of show for them to watch," Oat murmured, his voice low and vibrating with a mix of authority and genuine worry as he looked straight into Lamon's startled eyes.
While Lamon have no idea what Oat saying.
He stayed there for a heartbeat longer than necessary, his presence looming over his junior like a protective P' watching over his Nong, his thumb tracing a slow, unconscious circle on the back of Lamon's hand before he finally forced himself to take a small step back, though his eyes remained fixed on the younger boy's damp collarbone as if he were waiting for a reason to step back in.
The heavy, wooden door of the shower room finally clicked shut, but the sound didn't bring Oat any peace; instead, it felt like the walls of the locker room were slowly closing in on him as he stood there completely alone with his own racing thoughts.
Every single splash of the water hitting the floor inside felt like a sharp strike against his chest, and he could almost picture the way the cool droplets were sliding over Lamon's pale skin, washing away the sweat .
The rhythmic hiss of the spray was the only thing filling the silence, and it was so loud in the empty room that Oat felt like he was losing his mind, his breath coming out in short, jagged hitches as he tried to force himself to look anywhere except at that shower door.
Oat suddenly turned around and pressed his forehead against the cold, hard metal of his locker, the chill of the surface doing absolutely nothing to cool the burning heat that was spreading from his neck up to his ears. He buried his face in his crossed arms, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly that he saw spots, while his heart hammered against his ribs with a force that actually made his shoulders shake.
He felt like a total mess, trapped between the fierce, protective instinct of a P' who wanted to guard his junior and a much deeper, hungrier feeling that he wasn't yet brave enough to name out loud.
"How am I supposed to just stand here and act like nothing is happening when I can feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest?"
Oat whispered fiercely into the darkness of his own sleeves, his voice cracking with a desperate kind of frustration that he couldn't hide anymore.
He kept repeating the same words over and over like a prayer, begging his own body to settle down, but every time the water splashed a little louder, his grip on the locker handle tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"Control it, Oat... just breathe and control it, don't you dare let him see you like this or everything is going to change between us forever."
The silence in the locker room felt heavy and warm after the water stopped. When the shower door opened, Lamon stepped out wearing Oat's oversized sports jersey. The large shirt hung loosely on his small frame, slipping off one shoulder to show a bit of his damp skin. He looked so shy, keeping his head down and looking only at his own bare feet.
Oat felt his heart race. He couldn't look away. As Lamon walked closer, still too nervous to look up, "The water dripping from Lamon's hair made Oat even harder."
Oat reached out. His hand shook a little as he grabbed a towel and draped it over Lamon's head. He started to dry Lamon's hair with very slow, gentle movements. Being this close made the air feel like it was full of intense.
Suddenly, Oat's hand slowed down. His fingers moved from the towel to Lamon's face. His thumb softly brushed against Lamon's jaw before resting right on his lower lip.
Lamon finally looked up. His eyes were wide and full of surprise. Time seemed to stop. Oat stared at his thumb against those soft lips. His gaze became deep and intense, showing a hunger that was definitely more than "just friends."
The tension between them was so strong that even a small breath felt like a big secret being told.
The locker room felt hotter now. Oat stepped closer, placing one hand on the locker next to Lamon's head, leaning in until they were almost touching. His other hand reached out to touch the under the loose shirt and touched Lamon's body, the thin fabric of the jersey making the heat between them feel even stronger.
Lamon let out a soft, shaky breath as Oat's fingers brushed against his skin.
"P'Oat..." he whispered, his voice trembling. The sound of his name made Oat's pulse jump.
Oat leaned in closer, his breath warm against Lamon's ear. He moved his head down to Lamon's neck, his skin grazing against Lamon's throat. The feeling made Lamon shiver from head to toe. He felt weak in the knees and had to grab Oat's shoulders to stay standing.
The only sounds in the small room were their heavy breathing and the fast beating of their hearts. This was a feeling they had both been hiding , and now it was finally breaking through.
Oat looked deep into Lamon's eyes and whispered, "I've wanted to be this close to you for so long."
Lamon could only nod, his face turning a deep red as he leaned his forehead against Oat's chest, finally letting the tension take over.
"I don't think I can hold back anymore," Oat growled, his voice low and vibrating deeply against Lamon's sensitive skin, making him shiver.
"I'm not asking for permission anymore. I don't care about what happened before. From this moment on, you belong to me, and I am never letting you go again."
Lamon's eyes were bloodshot and shimmering with tears of shock and hidden desire.
His breath came in short, quick gasps as he looked up at the man he had loved for so long.
Oat didn't wait for an answer. He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Lamon's trembling eyelids, then moved to his forehead, before finally moving down to claim his lips with a force that took Lamon's breath away.
The kiss shifted instantly from a gentle touch into a deep, hungry exchange. It felt like years of hidden feelings were finally exploding between them.
Lamon eventually yielded, his body going soft as his mouth parted, allowing Oat to take everything he wanted. They both lost themselves in the heat of each other. The heavy silence of the room was completely broken now, replaced only by the sound of their breathing, the frantic thudding of their hearts,and the wet noise of their deep kisses as they hungrily tasted each other's mouths."
They moved blindly through the shadows, driven by a fire that made them forget where they were. As they stumbled back, hitting the door with a thud, Oat's hand reached out to cradle the back of Lamon's head.
He shielded him from the hard wood with a protective touch that was different from his aggressive movements. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There were no more rules—there was only the two of them, consumed by a passion they could no longer hide.
The tension in the small space was thick and heavy, smelling of rain and the old regrets of a painful past.
Oat suddenly broke the kiss, pulling back just an inch so their noses were still touching. His eyes were dark with a possessive hunger that hadn't been there years ago when he had coldly rejected Lamon's confession and broken his heart.
He looked at Lamon's face and messy hair, his chest heaving as he realized that he would do anything to keep him by his side forever.
" I am done running away from you," Oat said with a low, rough voice.
His fingers hooked into the wide collar of the large jersey Lamon was wearing. He pulled the fabric back slowly, letting the warm, heavy air of the room touch Lamon's skin.
Oat's eyes stayed fixed on Lamon, filled with a feeling he could not hide anymore.
Oat reached out and gripped Lamon's nipples, teasing them until they turned a deep, bright red. He leaned down and began to lick and bite him so hungrily that the wet sounds of his tongue filled the quiet room. It was too much for Lamon to handle; he lost all control of his body and let out a long, loud moan. '
Ahhhh...' he cried out, his voice echoing against the walls."
Oat leaned in close until his lips were right against Lamon's ear. His warm breath made the younger boy shiver.
"Lamon… make that sound for me again. I want to hear everything I have been missing for all this time," he whispered.
"P'Oat, I—" Lamon's voice broke. All the years of their difficult history seemed to hit him at once.
But Oat did not let him pull away. He moved even closer until there was no space left between them, their hearts beating fast against each other. The air felt thick with all the things they had never said.
The memory of being rejected before was now being replaced by a strong, desperate need to be together.
Oat's hands moved with a sudden, strong pull, grabbing the waist of Lamon and holding him tight against his body.
The sudden contact made Lamon's heart race, and he could only take short, quick breaths. Oat's gaze was like a fire, looking deep into Lamon's eyes. He was demanding that Lamon look back at him and stop hiding his true feelings.
"No more excuses, and no more hiding," Oat murmured against Lamon's skin. His voice was shaking with emotion. "I am not letting you go this time. You belong to me."
Lamon's hands shook as he reached up to Oat's broad shoulders. His fingers held onto the fabric of the jersey tightly. The moment felt like too much to handle—the scent of the room, the sound of them breathing together, and the feeling of finally being wanted by the person he had loved for so long.
As Oat moved even closer, showing exactly what he wanted, Lamon felt his last defenses fall away. The years of being apart seemed to disappear in the heat of the moment, leaving only the strong connection that had always been there between them.
To show he is ready to let go of the past pain, Lamon could look into Oat's eyes and say, "I've waited so long for you to say that. Please, don't ever leave me again."
Oat suddenly grabbed both of Lamon's hands and lifted them high above his head, pinning them tightly together against the wall. He quickly turned Lamon around so his back was facing him, and with a slow, firm pull, he began to slide Lamon's pants down. As the cool air hit Lamon's skin, Oat reached out to touch his lower back, his fingers tracing a slow path before he started to slide his hand lower, searching for the heat between them."
Before they could go any further, the sound of footsteps and talking came from outside the door. Oat didn't waste a second; he snatched Lamon up and pulled him into the shower room, slamming the small door shut just in time
They were pressed tightly together in the tiny, dark space. There was nothing between them except the cold metal of the shower pipe and the loud, fast beating of their hearts.
Outside the shower door, the voices of the other teammates filled the room.
"Hey, I thought P'Oat was still in here? Did he already leave?" one of the boys called out. His voice sounded very close.
Oat took a deep breath. He forced his voice to stay very steady. He sounded just like the calm and respected senior that everyone in the club looked up to.
"I am just in the shower. I am very tired from practice, so I will see you guys later," he called out. His voice was casual even though his body was full of nervous energy.
"Oh, okay, P'Oat! See you tomorrow!"
While their teammates chatted continuously outside about the day's play, inside the shower room, Oat slowly faced Lamon. He pressed his forehead against Lamon's and pulled him closer until Lamon's face rested against his shoulder.
Oat reached back, his touch light against Lamon's back, and whispered, 'It's rough in here.' Lamon was trembling, taking care not to let a single moan escape."
As the voices of the team disappeared, the air inside the small space felt very heavy and full of energy. The calm, controlled version of P'Oat was gone. Now, his eyes burned with a look that Lamon had never seen before.
In the very small space, every breath Lamon took was filled with the scent of Oat's skin.
Lamon shook. His back was pressed hard against the cold, wet tiles of the wall. Oat stepped even closer until there was no space left between them. The senior leaned in until his lips were just inches from Lamon's ear.
"You have always cared for me, haven't you?" Oat whispered. His voice was low and shaking with a deep feeling that made Lamon feel weak.
Lamon could only nod. His heart was racing so fast it felt like it might burst out of his chest. He had looked up to this older boy for a long time. Now, trapped in this tiny place where no one could see them, his respect for Oat turned into a strong, deep feeling.
Oat's hands moved to Lamon's waist, holding him with a firm, steady strength. The senior's usual calm was replaced by a powerful focus. Lamon was afraid that a player might still be outside and hear them. He quickly reached up and covered his own mouth with his hand to hide the sound of his heavy breathing.
Oat watched him closely. He looked at the way Lamon's fingers pressed against his own lips. He leaned in even closer until their foreheads touched.
"Do not hide from me, Lamon," he breathed out. He gently moved Lamon's hand away from his mouth. 'You don't have to stay quiet. Moan for me if you want to,' Oat growled softly, his breath hot against Lamon's neck."
The locker room became very quiet as the other players left. The only sounds left were the dripping water and the heavy breathing of two people. The air was warm and thick, making everything feel more intense.
"Oat tried to slide his finger inside Lamon again, but he realized it was still too dry for him to continue. Without warning, Oat reached down and lifted one of Lamon's legs high, resting it against his own hip.
He leaned in and began to lick the sensitive, dry entrance with a slow, wet tongue.
Lamon's whole body shook as he tried to push Oat away. 'P... P'Oat... don't... it's dirty down there...' he whispered, his face burning with a mix of shame and pleasure."
Oat didn't hear him; he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own racing heart. Instead, he licked the sensitive skin even more intensely, his tongue moving with a slow, wet pressure until the area was slick and ready.
"Now, it's good," Oat murmured, his voice thick with a dark hunger. He reached down to his own waist, his fingers moving quickly to unbutton his pants and push them down. He looked into Lamon's shaking eyes and whispered, "It might hurt at first, but don't worry... you'll get used to it."
Lamon felt a wave of fear wash over him as he looked up at Oat, seeing an intense, hungry expression on his face that he had never seen before. Oat slowly reached down to guide himself, carefully pressing into Lamon's wet heat. As he began to enter, Lamon's entire body started shivering, his breath catching in his throat from the overwhelming mix of sharp pain and sudden, deep pleasure.
Lamon quickly pressed his hand over his mouth, desperately trying to swallow his cries so the no one from outside wouldn't hear a thing.
But inside the locker room, the wet, rhythmic sound of their bodies hitting together echoed loudly against the tiled walls as Oat moved deep inside him.
Oat reached up and firmly pulled Lamon's hand away from his face, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger.
"Don't hide it," Oat growled, his voice thick and low. "I want to hear every sound you make. I want to hear how much you belong to me."
Lamon's pale skin was now covered in dark red marks left by Oat's hungry touches. Oat looked down at the bruises he had made and then reached down to touch himself, his eyes dark with a wild, crazy desire.
"Shit... I can't control myself anymore," Oat growled, his voice breaking with heat. "The sounds you're making... they're making me even harder."
"P'Oat, it hurts... my legs really hurt," Lamon gasped. His voice shook because he was so tired, and his knees felt weak. He grabbed Oat's strong shoulders tightly, his fingers pressing into the Oat's skin because he was struggling to stay standing.
Oat did not let go. He held Lamon's waist firmly, pulling the younger boy closer so he wouldn't fall. He wanted Lamon to feel safe and supported.
Lamon had already come three times, yet they continued to lose themselves in each other again and again.
The inside of his body was now slick and filled with their wet heat, and their skin was completely covered in sweat as they pressed together in the shower room.
Oat lifted Lamon's leg again to try another position, but the small shower room made it difficult to move. As they continued, Lamon became tired and began shivering from the intense sensations, while Oat remained energetic and felt as though he were only just beginning.
"Just a little longer, Lamon... stay with me. You can do it. Just hang in there for me," Oat whispered. His voice was low and steady right against Lamon's ear.
Lamon let out a shaky breath and rested his head on Oat's shoulder. He was completely exhausted from the doing.. Every breath felt heavy.
"P'Oat... it really hurts," Lamon whispered again, his voice sounding very tired.
Oat looked at him with a lot of care.
"Don't try to stand anymore, Lamon. Don't force your legs. I will carry you so you don't have to worry," he said softly.
With a quick and careful move, Oat lifted Lamon up off the floor. Lamon made a small sound of surprise and quickly wrapped his arms around Oat's neck to stay balanced.
He hid his face against Oat's neck, feeling the warmth and the familiar scent of his senior.
"Just stay like this," Oat whispered, holding him securely. "Don't think about the pain. Just focus on breathing. I've got you, Lamon. I won't let you fall.
"Don't forget to breathe... slowly... just like that..."