Chapter Text
'Sander' Jørgen shouted at the half-open door of his hotel bedroom. "We are going to miss the buffet! Are you in there?"
There was silence. That wide smiling bastard, he grumped good-naturedly while feeling sweaty as hell. Never in a million years did Jørgen Strand Larsen think he would be standing in the middle of a resort in Greensboro, North Carolina, USA. It was hot and humid, and his hair was a mass of curly tangles. He was dressed in a vest and some shorts that he had not worn yet to training. Sander Berge had texted him twenty minutes back when he had been lying down and having a bit of a wank to relieve the sexual tension. Competition always made Jørgen horny. He still had that hardon. He had been lying in boxers, and they were soaked in precum. He had removed them and cleaned off his oozing dick with a towel. His mustached teammate was asking if he had eaten or not, and maybe they could go together? Give me a few minutes, and I will come get you. He had huffed and texted. Fuck, his cock was being smarmy and would not cum. He blamed climate change. After dinner, maybe it would be a little cooler, and he could wank. Maybe he is gone without me. Shrugging, he went down to the dining hall and pigged out somewhat. The pie was very good. He was so horny about the food that he somewhat forgot all about Sander.
Jørgen was whistling a jaunty tune as he was walking down the hall back to his. He had walked up eight flights of steps to pre-start his fitness. He walked by Sander's room and suddenly the guilt sank in. Shit, he had not seen Sander at the dining hall at all. His door was still half open. What the fuck was going on?
"Sander," he yelled, concerned and pushed through the door and went into his room. He saw Sander on his bed, looking absolutely miserable. Sander gave a start seeing him and pulled off his earbuds.
"Sander?" He repeated. "What the hell is going on? Why are you upset?"
"He broke up with me?" His teammate's despondent voice pulled at Jørgen's heartstrings. Who the fuck would break it off with Sander Berge? He was a dark-haired babe with a solid body, okay, maybe that mustache was a little porn star, but it looked good on him!
"Shit, bro, I am sorry. What a loser. Did you eat?"
"No," he whispered. "I am not hungry. Thanks for checking up on me, but please leave me alone." He had sat up in bed.
"No fucking way. Dude, you've got to eat something. We have training early in the morning. Let me come down with you. There is pie."
"I am not hungry" he protested. "I just want to rest." Sander's stomach growled, and Jørgen gave him that look.
"Not hungry, really? Come on, get up!" Nimbly, he grabbed him by his hand and pulled him up off the bed.
"No, I am not." Shit, he was in a pair of tight, solid green boxer briefs. They moulded his front and ass perfectly. He tried not to drool or perve on his sad teammate's bod.
"I sent him a pic in my boxers, and he replied with we are done." Sander broke the silence.
"Shit, dude, if you sent me that, I would be on the next plane to Greensboro, South Carolina." He said in a fake New York accent. He wasn't 100 percent sure he could master a Carolinian accent just yet. Give him a few days, though. Sondre laughed softly,
"North Carolina. Not South. "
"I don't know about that, but I know one thing."
"What's that?" Sander's voice sounded a little less sad.
"I know you are...ticklish." He grabbed Sander's body and started tickling him, causing him to giggle uncontrollably and get away. He pushed at Jørgen, causing him to fall upon the bed, and then jumped on top of him.
"Let's see how you like it?!"
He shoved his hands underneath Jørgen's armpits and started tickling him.
"Fuck that I am resistant to ticjk--hahahaha," he started laughing, tears running down his face. He was using his legs to try to trip Sander up, who fell upon his body. Naked chest grinding against Jørgen's tank-covered chest. His cock touched Jørgen's hard dick, and he stiffened. His arms were still underneath his armpits, his face was close to Jørgen's.
"Are you turned on by the tickling or ...?"
"Sander". Jørgen sighed. Shit, yes, he was turned on to tickling, but also his teammate.
"Yes, Jørgen?"
"I am turned on by tickling, but I am into dudes. But, dude, you just had someone break up with you. The last thing I want to do is..."
"You are saying this hardon is because of me?" Sander cut him off, looking at him intently,
"Yes, man. I am not going to--" Damn Sander's lips were upon him, and they were making out hard. Hands all over each other's bodies. In fact, Sander was helping him with his tank and then shoving another hand into his shorts to massage his hard cock.
"I haven't had any dinner, Jørgen. You said you would feed me."
"What do you want to eat?" His voice was faint. He could not believe this was happening.
"Your cock." He smirked, and Jørgen blushed.
Sander kissed his lips once more, hungrily, passionately and then with kisses and licking, he made his way down. Starting at the forehead all the way down, a straight line of kisses and kisses stopping to gum his pecs and pointy nipples. Shit, Sander was driving him wild. He was gasping for air. It was so hot, and both of them were sweating, but it had nothing to do with the humidity. He was licking and sucking on his belly button. Rubbing the tangle of hairs above his cock and touching those balls, delicately rolling them around on his tongue. His first taste test was a long lick of his salty head that was spewing precum. Fuck I am naked, and he was still in his sexy boxer briefs. He looked like a horny angel.
"Hey, what about your--oh fuck!" Sander had most of his meat in his mouth, swirling his spit around it as he tried to take it down his throat. Jørgen's impish dick, which he had been trying to coax to cum exploded in his cute teammate's mouth. Damn, he winced. I did not last that long in his mouth. What was he going to think?
Sander lay on his chest and licked his chin.
"Hi." He offered up.
"Hello, Um, I usually last longer."
"You don't have to explain to me. I saw your hardon from space when I went to visit the International Space Station during practice." Jørgen blushed red. He playfully boffed Sandor's hard dick.
"Look who's talking. I read you can't see the Great Wall of China from space, but you can see Sander Berge's bulge. Haha."
"Cute. Really cute!"
"Do you want to eat something? Seriously. I mean, you do need to eat. It doesn't matter that you had dessert already..." He winked at his bedmate, who blushed furiously.
"Okay, sure. Okay. I will come down with you because you want to eat so badly." Sander got up out of bed quick and Jørgen almost protested. Hey! What about some quality time with your dick?
"I am gonna quickly shower. I am so sweaty. It's the humidity. Give me five minutes."
He ran off into the bathroom, leaving Jørgen alone on the bed.
"Hey, you coming?" Sander's voice called out ten seconds later and startled Jørgen.
"You want me?" Now it was his turn to blush.
"Come shower, you are sweaty as hell. We can quickly eat something, and then maybe we can come here, and you can have some of my homemade dessert!"
Shit, that jerked Jørgen up to no end. He jumped up and ran into the shower with a grin on his face that matched his sexy teammate, Sander!
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