He speaks first.

Nolan gives you a couple verbal tips and pointers, mostly things you already know, but you smile and nod politely anyways.

“Lemme’ show you the locker room - you came in your gear, right? Next time you should use the lockers. There’s a rain shower in there… and a sauna!”

You nod politely again. It’s going to be hard to refuse this offer without sounding weird but you have to try.

“Ah, uh… That’s cool… Why the sauna?” you try (rather un-smoothly) to change the topic. Nolan gives a short, quick “Ha!” and explains “Dude, you must be immune to pain or something! It’s for your muscles. I usually do it before I get on the bike in the first place, helps with injury prevention. Look, lemme just show you-“ He reaches out to guide the handles of your bike, moving it to the side where it won’t be disturbed. Guess we’re doing this now…

You walk and talk until he stops down the hall a little ways away from the track. He pushes the door open and gestures for you to go first. Seeing the state of the lockers, it’s easy to tell that this place is kept well. Men usually tend to destroy or vandalize spaces that aren’t theirs… The young edgy tweens and teens, that is.

“Pretty swanky.” you comment.

Nolan laughs; it sounds like silver bells chiming, the first ray of sunshine after a long winter, a-

‘Alright Shakespeare, calm down…’ your traitorous inner-voice intervenes. Your face feels a tad warm, and the more you think about that fact, the warmer it gets…

Only when your eyes dart over to Nolan do you realize he’s been staring. You look back at him with a somewhat doe-eyed stare. He looks you up and down, seemingly considering something carefully with a soft frown knitted between his eyebrows. He takes one step towards you and you try (and fail) not to flinch. Nolan stops short and continues to consider you. To your utter shock, he calls you out on it:

“You’re blushing.”

Your face heats in humiliation and you’re pretty sure your mouth is gaping open and closed like a goldfish. ‘You’re a clownfish.’ your brain supplies.

“Look…“ he shrugs, “I’m an equal opportunist. I won’t tell if you won’t.” He says the words so casually, at first you think you’re hallucinating.

“You- What!?” you sputter rather intelligently.

“Well? It’s almost closing time…” he continues.

You just manage a bewildered nod before he makes his way over, a tent already somewhat pitching in his jeans. He’s got an eager grin on his face and he reaches his left arm down to rub and give a gentle squeeze to his clothed bulge. His other hand reaches out to fondle yours, but in a show of lightning-fast reflexes, your hand latches onto his wrist in a tight grip before he can make contact. He looks up, confused.

“Er, it’s the gear. Too many layers.” The excuse sounds weak coming from your mouth, even to your own ears - and apparently to his as well. A single eyebrow arch is all you get in response before he then nods and takes his hand back to his side. Eager to distract from that situation, both of your hands move forward to tug the button above his zipper. Nolan doesn’t object, rather, moves his hand away from his crotch to let you continue. You’ve never done this before but god damn have you seen A LOT of videos… Unfortunately it doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking, but so far your desire to satisfy him is winning. You pop the button open and unzip the jeans rather quickly, hoping the speed will disguise your subtly-shaking nervous fingers. You hook a finger from each hand into his boxers exposed waistband and tug.

“…Can I-?” before you can finish the question, he’s tugged both garments down for you.

His cock springs up proudly and bops briefly against his tummy. And fuck, what a cock it is.

It’s pretty large, to the point where you wonder how he managed to contain it in the first place. The head shines under the fluorescent lighting, the bellend prominent enough to clearly note he’s been circumcised. Your eyes hungrily follow down his length. The skin of the shaft is a light tan colour, just a tad pinker than his skin tone on the rest of his body. Blue and red veins intertwine harmoniously throughout. At the base, he has a carefully-trimmed patch of hair but his balls remain bare. It throbs under your stare. Something about his cock is magical; it must be, because you’ve now forgotten completely about your nerves and your hand reaches out to grasp the erect, whopping 8-incher.

Air escapes Nolan’s nose in a rush and his hips push forward. Immediately you put your plentiful internet history to use.