It's been two years since his sweet Mick disappeared without a warning, after six blissful days officially together. Unable to move on, Ohm is starting third year at the university, his last hope fading. Then he hears a familiar voice...
Smut warnin...
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Mick was sitting in the bleachers, watching Ohm play basketball for the first time in weeks. It was a friendly practise game, but Ohm's competitive streak got the better of him and he threw himself fully into the game. He looked like a god of sports, in Mick's biased opinion.
Perhaps not so biased, after all, as he found out. Halfway into the game, Mick overheard a girl he didn't know giggling about Ohm with the girl she was sitting with, just in front of Mick. Mick fumed behind them and heard the girl squeal, when Ohm made a spectacular jump shot.
The game ended, and the players stood around, clapping each others' backs and wiping themselves with towels.
"Wish me luck," the girl whispered, and headed towards Ohm with a bottle of water in her hand. She said something to Ohm, and he smiled, and Mick's insides clenched. Ohm refused the drink, though, but that seemed a small comfort.
Then Ohm spotted Mick's face in the bleachers, and hastily said something to the girl. He ran to Mick.
"Babe... she was just being nice."
"No she wasn't, I heard her. She was hitting on you!"
"I don't care what she wanted, I was only being polite."
The girl had watched this and walked over, her hips swaying, flinging her long hair over her shoulder like in a shampoo commercial. Mick made a face at her.
"Your friend, gorgeous?"
"Boyfriend," Ohm said, and kissed Mick pouty lips deeply. "I told you someone was bringing me a drink already," he said and showed her the bottle he had just picked up from Mick's lap.
"All the nice ones are gay," the girl muttered, and headed desolately off the court.
When they got home, Ohm headed to the shower, and came back rubbing his back. "I think I pulled a muscle."
Mick was still grumpy, which is why he hadn't joined Ohm in the shower, but he couldn't ignore Ohm's pained face. "I can give you a massage. I had a problem with my back about a year ago and I was sent to 10 massages by the doctor. I think I can figure it out."
"Someone else put their hands on you?"
"She was about sixty, P'Ohm. Let me get a towel." Mick got a towel and put it on the bed. "Lie down, on your front." Mick picked up the lube.
"Mick...?"
"We don't have massage oil. This will do," Mick said and poured some on his hands. He straddled Ohm, his knees straddling Ohm just below his hips, and started gently. He first ran his hands on both sides of Ohm's spine, from the bottom to his shoulders, then again with more force, and again pressing with his palms even harder. Ohm moaned and relaxed under his hands. Mick's small hands were surprisingly strong and competent, and he worked out the kinks in Ohm's back slowly.
