Super Crush (BxB)

Boba Date Turns into a Tea Party

I hadn't realized we are in the locker room yet because I couldn't stop thinking about Clay's hand in mine. Maybe not romantic, but this is the longest I have ever held another guy's hand. I know I am cheesing like a psycho. Glad it is pitch black in here. Only a sliver of gray light is emitted from under the door.

We hear the muffled voices of Abe and his team. Moments later, we can feel the lockers on the other side of the wall we are pressed against open all at once. There are more angry grumbling sounds and then it goes quiet. I feel my brow furrow as the stench of sulfur hits my nostrils. I look down to see the dim glow of the leftover smoke float in from the crack in the door. It's Abe's extraction, complements of Smoke Bomb.

"Coast is clear," I tell Clay, knowing my friend's team has been teleported out of the school.

"Yeah?" he asks.

I realize I need a reason to know the holders are no longer at school. It may seem fishy if I don't give Clay an explanation, and it can't be I know they have been teleported out because one of them is actually Abe, and he has told me many secrets of the most powerful anti-crime team in history.

"Uh huh. Watched some videos online about the holder who can make she and her friends disappear in a puff of smoke."

The generated story isn't gold, but it's believable. I am a big enough dork for Clay to believe that I sit around watching internet videos about superheroes.

He lets out a soft chuckle and then cuts on the lights but doesn't immediately let go of my hand. Instead, Clay is looking at me. A partial smirk has taken over his face as if he made a joke I didn't hear. Then, as I look down at our hands still intertwined, he releases his grip before my eyes find the sight as if to trick me. I am not sure what his motives are, but I do know my hand already misses Clay's.

I clear my throat. "So, The Fleet thinks that those vigilantes are students here?"

Clay starts walking away from me, deeper into the locker room.

"I guess," he says, not looking back at me.

I follow him down the row of empty lockers, past the urinals, and through the showers.

"That seems strange. Wouldn't they be able to pinpoint something like that? I would assume they have means of searching students' activity or demographics or something. Going locker by locker seems a bit archaic."

"Yeah."

I can tell he is uninterested in the conversation so I move it to inner monologue instead. Thinking to myself about how Abe could easily use The Fleet's access to the NYPSAD, I don't realize that Clay has led us out onto the pool deck. It is in my epiphany that Clay's expulsion from his last school would put him on their short list of suspicious people that I lose all abilities to think.

In front of me, poolside, Clay hikes his shirt up and over his head. I freeze, taking in the sight of his massive back, defined with muscles I didn't know a human could possess. But it is the gorgeously designed tattoo that stretches from one shoulder to the other that is the real treat here. It's a mountain range. A setting sun. A river's pass. This hidden treasure, and the fact that I am seeing it up close, makes me feel incredibly close to him right now.

He turns to me. "Take your clothes off, Brass. We don't have much time before the water polo team comes from their weekend practice."

Not sure anyone has asked me to take my clothes off before. Lies. Of course no one has.

Clay slides his jeans down to his ankles, revealing a pair of square-cut boxer briefs hugging his thick thighs. The trunks do not leave much to the imagination. And I think I am having a stroke.

"Dude, you coming? It's unsafe to let a friend swim alone." Clay dives in.

It's just a moment, but I saw it. On impact, the water rips the back end of his underwear down, showing off a heavenly, but refracted, Clay ass. I drop the boba that I didn't even recall I was still holding.

"Whoa there, Sons of Liberty. Keep the tea outta the pool. This isn't late 1700's Boston." Clay says when he surfaces.  He scoops up the bobbing cup and hands it up to me.

"Get in here."

I look at the security camera above the scoreboard. We are going to be in so much trouble. If I get in the water–

"Noah, don't worry about that. I have the footage taken care of. Trust me."

The glassy water makes Clay's eyes shine with anticipation. And I want to trust him.

"Isn't time you cut loose a little? Tell Britain who's boss? Fuck the man!"

The mix of his nerdy history allusions and crude resist language is a complete turn-on.

"Tea party! Tea party!" He starts chanting with a silly grin.

Like a spell, I follow his demands. I pull my shirt off and fling my shoes and pants behind me. Standing in just my underwear, at the edge of the water, deep in gaze with the guy I am falling hard for, I jump in.