My man in overalls came back, and the night was ours alone

On the day of Unai’s debut, Adrián’s apartment in Brooklyn felt smaller than ever. White walls spotted with abstract art posters, a table covered in half-finished sketches for his master’s final project, and, in the background, the monotonous hum of the fridge as his only company. Every minute weighed on him. Unai’s absence pressed on his chest like an invisible hand that wouldn’t quite let go.

The morning, however, had started well. A video call woke him up with Unai’s face filling the screen, lit by the hotel room’s natural light.

—Look at this, baby —he said, turning the camera to show himself from head to toe—. The lucky overalls, the same ones that opened every door for me in this city.

The moss-green overalls hugged his athletic torso like a second skin. He wore a long-sleeved shirt underneath, his short hair combed back, and that smile that could melt any screen. The fabric brushed his chest with every movement, and Adrián, still in his pajamas and with a coffee in his hands, felt a tickle below his navel that quickly turned into a hard cock straining against the fabric.

—Jesus, Unai. You’re mouthwatering —he said—. Those overalls bring back memories of the first time I saw you in them. They showed off every damn thing that drove me crazy. I’m getting hard just looking at you, you bastard.

Unai laughed, his voice rough with nerves, and lowered the camera to his crotch, where the bulge in the overalls was shamelessly outlined.

—And look how much everything’s changed since then. I’m nervous, but I’m also really horny, I’m not going to lie. Last night I had to jerk off thinking about your mouth. The arena’s packed, the team’s counting on me. Are you coming to the box?

Adrián bit his lip, his hand already slipped inside the waistband of his pajama pants.

—I don’t know. Nerves kill me when I don’t really understand what’s happening on the court. But I’m going to be shouting for you from somewhere, I promise. Now show me your cock, come on, I’m going to stroke myself thinking about you.

Unai glanced toward the hotel room door, let out a low laugh, and pulled down the zipper on the overalls. His cock sprang free, hard, red at the tip, with that thick vein running along the shaft that Adrián knew by heart.

—All yours —Unai murmured—. Spit and do it slowly, I want to watch you.

Adrián pulled his pants down to his knees, propped the phone against his coffee mug, and spat into his palm. He wrapped his hand around his cock and started jerking off while staring at the screen, his eyes fixed on Unai’s hand moving up and down his swollen shaft. They matched their pace without speaking. Unai licking his thumb and rubbing the head with his fingertip. Adrián pulling his foreskin down, the tip shining with precum.

—I’m going to cum soon —Unai panted—. I haven’t fucked you all fucking week, man.

—Cum with me —Adrián begged, speeding up—. I want to see you shoot.

They came almost at the same time. Unai with a tight groan, blasting semen over his own stomach and the green overalls; Adrián biting his wrist so he wouldn’t wake the neighbor, the orgasm spilling hot between his fingers and onto his thigh. They looked at each other for a moment, smiling, ridiculous, exhausted.

They talked for a long time after cleaning up. Unai confessed his fears in a low voice, the same ones he always had before a game: What if I screw up? What if they don’t even give me a minute? Adrián soothed him with gentle words, repeating that he was the best, that he would shine like he always did. The virtual kiss when they hung up left him with his heart racing and, at the same time, with an uncomfortable emptiness. Distance, even if it was just a few bridges away, hurt.

***

The rest of the day dragged. Sitting at the table, laptop open to a half-designed ad campaign, Adrián couldn’t focus. The cursor blinked accusingly on the screen while his mind wandered far away: Unai warming up on the court, the roar of the stands, his own loneliness bouncing off the walls of the tiny apartment.

—Come on, focus —he told himself, typing sentences he deleted two seconds later.

The scent of cooling coffee mixed with the trace of Unai’s cologne, still clinging to a sweatshirt tossed over the back of the chair. Impossible to move forward. He got up, paced the cramped space, the wooden floor creaking under his bare feet, and leaned out the window that looked onto a gray courtyard where a stray cat prowled among the trash bins.

By midafternoon, Bruno and Saúl wrote to him, two friends from college who had made plans to watch the game together in a neighborhood bar. They sent him a photo of themselves clinking beer glasses, faces pressed together, with a homemade banner bearing Unai’s number painted by hand. For your boy, who’s going to blow it up tonight, the message read. Adrián smiled for the first time in hours. Those people loved him, and by extension they loved Unai. He wasn’t as alone as he thought.

He closed the laptop. The project could wait; his head wasn’t in the mood for sketches. He showered slowly, letting the hot water loosen the tension in his shoulders, and while getting dressed he looked at the coat rack. Hanging there was his own overalls, moss green, identical to Unai’s, the one they had swapped one night like an exchanged ring.

—For him, I have to be there —he murmured, and stepped out into the street.

***

He arrived at the arena just as Unai was jumping onto the court. The roar of the crowd hit him like a wave that rose up his back to the nape of his neck. In the family box, Marcus’s mother, the other debutant’s, welcomed him with a hug.

—I’m so glad you came —she said in his ear—. It’s tight, the team isn’t getting going.

Adrián, still lost among rules he hadn’t fully mastered, felt his heart contract when he saw Unai on the bench, face tense, hands rubbing his knees. He’ll be fine. He has to be fine. But fear was squeezing him from the inside.

Then Unai went in to play. The first moves were clumsy, imprecise, and Adrián held his breath. Until something changed. He saw it in his eyes before he saw it on the scoreboard: the spark returning, confidence settling onto his shoulders. One play, another, and another. The stands began chanting his name. Adrián didn’t understand half of what was happening, but he understood the energy, and he let himself be swept along by it, shouting until his voice went hoarse.

In the end, a comfortable win. The whole arena vibrated. Adrián cried without trying to hide it, tears of pride running down his face while the crowd sang his boy’s nickname again and again.

He did it. My man did it.

***

He waited patiently for Unai to leave the locker room, deal with the microphones, sign photos for a handful of fans, the green overalls looking iconic under the floodlights. When they finally got into the car together, Adrián assumed they would go, as usual, to the teammates’ apartment. But Unai squeezed his hand and took it straight to his crotch, where the thick bulge was already visible again beneath the tracksuit.

—Take me to your place —he said—. I want us to be alone. I’ve had you on the back burner all week: training, camp, commitments. We’ve only talked on the phone. You deserve all the time I’ve got free, and I want to spend it with you. Fucking you until you can’t walk tomorrow.

Adrián felt heat rise from his stomach to his ears, and he pressed his palm over Unai’s hard cock through the fabric.

—Yes, baby. Alone. And I want you to wreck me.

Unai took out his phone and texted Imanol, the one who usually stood between the team and the world: I don’t exist to anyone tonight. Cover for me. I need to switch off. The reply came instantly, a terse “understood, enjoy yourselves” with an emoji, and he put the phone face down in the glove compartment, like someone closing a door.

***

They ate dinner on the building’s small rooftop. A narrow terrace overlooking the lights of Brooklyn, the night cool, the two of them wrapped in thick blankets with a steaming pizza between them. Candles flickered inside glass jars and cast trembling shadows over their faces. The smell of melted cheese mixed with the cold December air.

Unai, with the overalls half-unbuttoned and his chest still warm from the effort of the game, took Adrián’s hand across the table.

—Tell me about your day. Without me, how was it?

—Hard —Adrián admitted, curling against his side—. The master’s isn’t moving forward. But the worst part was the anxiety about you. Imagining something going wrong and not being able to do anything from here.

Unai stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, slowly, drawing circles.

—It’s over now. I’m here.

Adrián swallowed. There was something else that had been gnawing at him for days, and he let it out with a breaking voice.

—I’m scared of losing you. I know it’s irrational. But the more you grow, the more I wonder what I am. Just a normal student, nothing about me shines. I don’t want to be small next to you.

Unai turned his face and looked at him, eyes glossy. He pulled him close and kissed him, first on the forehead, then on the mouth, a slow kiss that tasted like red wine.

—You’re everything real I’ve got —he said against his lips—. The rest is noise. You’re the only thing I don’t want to lose. And now shut up and let me eat your mouth.

The kiss stretched on. Their hands stopped being still. Adrián felt Unai’s tongue forcing its way in, demanding, and he answered with the same restrained urgency of the whole week. The blanket slipped from their shoulders and neither of them bothered to pick it up. Unai slid a hand between his legs, over the jeans, and squeezed his bulge with his palm.

—You’re already hard, bastard —he whispered against his mouth.

—All fucking day —Adrián replied—. Since this morning’s video call, it hasn’t gone down.

—Inside —Unai murmured, his voice thick—. It’s cold, and what I want to do to you is not for the neighbors to see.

***

They stumbled down the stairs, laughing like kids, their hands searching for each other’s bodies on every landing. On the second-floor landing, Unai slammed him against the wall and shoved his tongue down his throat while rubbing his cock over his pants. Adrián bit his lower lip and grabbed his ass with both hands, squeezing it.

—If you keep this up I’m going to suck you off right here —he warned, breathless.

—Hold out until we get upstairs —Unai laughed—. I want to do it right.

Hardly had they crossed the apartment door when Adrián found himself with his back against the wall and Unai’s mouth on his neck. He bit just below the ear, slowly, and Adrián felt his legs give out.

—I’ve spent all week thinking about this —Unai said, while slipping his hands under his shirt and tracing his stomach with cold fingers—. Every night in that hotel, alone, imagining you. Every time I jerked off I thought about your ass, man. About how you tighten up when you’re about to cum.

He yanked the shirt over Adrián’s head and dropped his mouth to one nipple, sucking it first and then biting it, mercilessly. Adrián let out a sharp moan that echoed off the bare walls of the hallway. Unai kept going down, leaving red marks over his sternum, until he knelt in front of him. He opened his fly with his teeth, yanked down his pants and briefs in one move, and took his cock into his mouth without warning.

—Fuck! —Adrián cried, grabbing his nape.

Unai sucked him with starved hunger. His tongue wrapping around the head, his throat opening to swallow him whole, his wet eyes looking up at him from below while his chin filled with saliva. He pulled the cock out, spat on it, and shoved it back in to the hilt, with a brutal rhythm, not giving him a second to think. Adrián could feel the head hitting Unai’s palate, the vibration of his muffled groans traveling up his shaft.

—Stop, stop, I’m gonna cum —Adrián panted, tugging at his hair.

Unai pulled off with a wet pop and smiled, lips swollen, glossy.

—No, not yet. Tonight you’re going to finish inside me, and then me inside you. Both things.

Adrián found the overalls straps and slid them down Unai’s shoulders. The garment fell to his waist, revealing his hairless chest, still shining with sweat from the game. Adrián ran his tongue over his sternum, up to one nipple, and caught it gently between his teeth. Unai let out a sharp breath and buried his fingers in Adrián’s hair.

He guided him to the bedroom without breaking the kiss, stripping off clothes along the way. The sheets were cool. Adrián pushed Unai onto the bed and pulled the overalls all the way down, along with what he was wearing underneath. There was nothing to hide: he was hard against his stomach, heavy, his cock dripping precum onto his navel. Adrián knelt between his legs and took him into his mouth without preliminaries.

—Jesus, Adrián —Unai panted, arching his back.

He worked him slowly, keeping a rhythm he knew by heart, tongue flat under the shaft, hand closed at the base pumping in the same beat. He sucked the head until he made him moan, then went down and licked his balls, one first and then the other, taking them into his mouth one at a time while he kept jerking him with his hand. He spread his thighs and licked lower, his tongue tracing a wet path to his ass. When Unai felt the tip of the tongue going in, he jerked and clutched the sheets.

—There, bastard, there —he moaned.

Adrián ate him out slowly, alternating tongue and fingers, squeezing and releasing, feeling the tight ring of Unai gradually give way. He could feel Unai fighting not to move, hips tense, thighs trembling under his palms. When he sensed he was too close, he put the cock back in his mouth, worked him for a few more seconds and let him go just before he burst. He climbed up to kiss him, leaving him on the edge, not letting him finish.

—You’re cruel —Unai laughed, breathless, and rolled him over the mattress with a clean motion to end up on top.

Now it was him running his mouth over Adrián. Down his chest, over the stomach tightening with every kiss, until he got between his legs, prying them open with his hands. He lifted his hips, put his thighs on his shoulders and buried his face between his buttocks. Adrián closed his eyes and clung to the sheet. He knew that mouth, that deliberate patience, that way of making him lose his mind minute by minute. Unai’s tongue worked his ass with hunger, going in and out, alternating with long licks that climbed all the way to his balls. Pleasure rose in slow waves that left him breathless.

—I need you —he managed to say—. Now. Please. Put it in me.

Unai stretched one arm toward the nightstand, took the lube from the drawer and took his time. He put a generous amount on his fingers and on his cock, and prepared Adrián without rushing. One finger first, turning slowly, searching for that spot that made him arch. When he found it, Adrián let out a guttural moan and pushed his hips against his hand. He added the second finger, scissoring, opening him up. Then the third. Adrián was panting, his cock stuck to his stomach and dripping onto his navel, asking for more without words, fucking Unai’s fingers himself.

—Put it in already, fuck, I can’t take it anymore.

When he finally entered, he did it slowly, centimeter by centimeter, holding his gaze the whole time. Adrián felt him filling him, that mix of tension and surrender that only ever happened with him, the thick cock pushing its way all the way in. They stayed still for a moment, forehead to forehead, breathing the same air, the whole length of him throbbing inside.

—This —Unai whispered— is the only thing that’s really mine.

He started moving. First with a deep, measured rocking that stole the air from both of them; he pulled almost the whole cock out and then drove it back in until his balls slapped against Adrián’s ass. Adrián wrapped his legs around his waist and dug his heels into his back, asking for more. Unai sped up, faster, deeper, pounding him with all his hips. The bed creaked against the wall, the headboard thumping to the rhythm of every thrust.

—Just like that, just like that, don’t stop —Adrián moaned, clinging to his shoulders—. Fuck me hard, bastard.

—You like that? —Unai panted in his ear—. You like how I fuck you? Say it.

—I love it, fuck, I love your cock.

Unai yanked out, turned him face down, and lifted his hips. Adrián propped himself on his elbows, ass up, offered. Unai drove back in with one thrust and kept up a brutal pace, hands squeezing his waist, fingers digging into the skin. Every time he slammed into him, he ripped a hoarse moan from Adrián and a sharp slap of his hips against his ass. He grabbed Adrián by the hair, pulling his head back, and bent down to bite his nape without stopping the fucking.

—Touch yourself —he ordered—. I want you to cum with me inside you.

Adrián slipped a hand under his stomach and grabbed his cock. He started jerking off fast, in time with the thrusts, feeling the orgasm concentrate at the base of his spine. Unai spoke in his ear, dirty and tender things mixed together, his name repeated like a prayer, fucking him harder and harder, deeper and deeper, seeking the bottom of him.

Pleasure gathered in one point and then overflowed. Adrián came with a muffled cry, blasting thick ropes onto the sheets, his ass clenching in spasms around Unai’s cock. That squeeze was enough. Unai drove into him to the hilt one last time, stayed there buried, and emptied himself inside with a long groan, his forehead pressed between Adrián’s shoulder blades, his hips trembling with every spurt of semen.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, panting, joined, unwilling to separate. Unai ran a hand over Adrián’s sweaty back, kissed his nape, and pulled out slowly. Adrián felt the hot spill sliding down his thigh and moaned again, half exhausted, half still hard.

—Your turn now —Unai reminded him, lying back and spreading his legs—. We said both things.

Adrián smiled, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and settled between his thighs. Unai had already prepared himself with two fingers while watching him, his cock hard again over his stomach. Adrián coated himself with lube and lifted his hips, resting Unai’s ankles on his shoulders. He entered slowly, watching Unai grit his teeth and then let out a long moan when he sank all the way in.

—Fuck, you’re so tight —Adrián murmured.

—Move —Unai begged, gripping his ass—. Fuck me.

Adrián started thrusting, first carefully, then letting go. He loved seeing Unai like that, underneath him, mouth open and eyes half closed, the cock that had blown up the court that very afternoon now bouncing against his own stomach with every thrust. He leaned over him, without pulling out, and kissed him on the mouth while still moving. Unai dug his nails into his back, asked for more in his ear, bit his shoulder.

—Harder, fuck, harder.

Adrián straightened up, grabbed his thighs, and fucked him deep, the bed once again banging against the wall. He found Unai’s cock with his hand and jerked him off while he thrust, searching for the angle he knew would drive him crazy. Unai started moaning uncontrollably, biting his fist, his skin all red from the effort of the game and the second round.

—I’m cumming, I’m cumming again, don’t stop —he panted.

He came in a long spasm, blasting over his own chest and over Adrián’s hand that kept pumping his cock. His ass clenched in waves around Adrián’s shaft, and that sensation —hot, tight, throbbing— finished Adrián off too. He drove in to the hilt, clutched Unai’s hips, and emptied himself inside with a guttural groan, his cum coming out in thick spurts, his thighs shaking until he was left without strength.

He collapsed on top of him, cock still inside, the two of them throbbing like one body. Unai slipped his arms around his shoulders and held him close, laughing softly, breathless.

—That’s it. We’re even.

***

They collapsed together on the tangled sheets, hearts out of sync, skin stuck together with sweat and semen. Unai found Adrián’s hand in the dark and interlaced their fingers.

—Don’t turn the alarm off —Adrián murmured, half asleep—. You’ve got recovery tomorrow.

—Tomorrow doesn’t exist —Unai replied, pulling him against his chest—. Today I debuted in front of the whole world. But this, with you, in this tiny bed, is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.

Adrián smiled against his shoulder. Outside, the city lights stayed on, indifferent; the game, the floodlights, the crowd’s shouts, everything had been left on the other side of that closed door. Inside there were only the two of them, the weight of a familiar body and the certainty, for one whole night, that nobody was going to interrupt them.

They fell asleep like that, holding each other, letting exhaustion —and not any alarm clock— decide what time the next day would begin.