Jake leans against David, and David can’t help but lean back into him. “I should go,” David says, after a minute.

“No, hey,” Jake says. “it’s still early. You want to come back to my room? I’ve got the last season of Big Brother on my laptop.”

There is just about nothing less tempting than that, at least the Big Brother part. The fact that Jake’s room presumably includes a bed, and Jake’s already down to his underwear, that’s...more tempting.

“And nothing else?” David asks sceptically.

“I can’t promise that,” Jake says, pressing his mouth against David’s shoulder. He picks his head up immediately. “I mean, unless you don’t want to,” he says quickly. “Then of course not.”

“No, that’s—” David says. “That’s cool with me.”

“Cool,” Jake echoes, standing. He offers David a hand, which David takes, trying not to think about whether it’s the one Jake came into. He’s had Jake come down his throat, it’s a stupid thing to be squeamish about.

David follows, pausing when Jake walks through a half open door. “Jake?” he says, and Jake stops, turns around. “I don’t actually want to watch Big Brother,” he says, feeling shy.

“Awesome,” Jake says. “I’ve already seen that season anyway.”

David’s jaw tightens.

“Oh my god, I’m kidding,” Jake says, tugs David in by the hem of his shirt, which he allows after a moment. He leans down, presses his mouth to the edge of David’s jaw. “I’ve only seen the first half,” he murmurs.

David elbows him, hard, but when Jake keeps tugging him forward, he follows.

CHAPTER TEN

There isn't a set routine to camp. Or there is: five days a week training, but they change it up enough that David doesn't find it monotonous, throw in trips to a pool for conditioning, an outdoor rink for a ball hockey game, grass sprouting through cracks in the concrete.

He doesn’t have a routine outside of training either, but more often than not he's getting into Jake's car at the end of the day, until Jake's borrowed condo is more familiar than David's hotel room, until David could shut his eyes and know where everything is in the kitchen. David’s watched more movies in the past few weeks than he had in the past year, has a mouth red raw with stubble burn, knows the weight of Jake's cock on his tongue, the heat of his body around David when David's sinking into him on an off day, hand between Jake's shoulder blades, feeling his muscles tense and release under David's fingers.

There isn't a routine, nothing David can count on, and maybe that's why time slips the way it does, sticky summer days and the echoing cool of the rink and Jake's fingers rough against David's jaw, why the end comes before David can get used to anything.

*

It's been a long week. There are only a few days left until camp wraps up, everyone ramping up their effort levels accordingly, and the fatigue's set in. David’s certainly feeling it. It’s not even five and his eyes are half-shut as he waits for a cab, wondering if going straight to bed when he gets back to his room will energise him the next day or just throw off his internal clock.