Jocks of the South Pt. 12B

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Nick and Francis attend a wedding together. Part 2 of 2.
9.6k words
4.82
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Part 13 of the 15 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 05/03/2016
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Chapter 12B: Family Feud

Nick and Francis took a good ten minutes cleaning each other up, and getting all of the cum off of Francis' face, before they finally straightened themselves off and opened up the bathroom door to their hotel room.

"Hey there," a familiar voice came, making the both of them jump. Nick turned his head and instantly felt his heart stop beating. His skin turned numb and for a moment his vision blurred.

Matthew McCarthy was laid out on a chair before them, his legs spread wide and a smug look on his face. He leaned back and raised his eyebrows, staring at the both of them with a cheeky grin.

"You two have fun?" Matt asked.

"M-Matt!" Francis exclaimed, feeling his chest begin to pound. His face turned red.

"Sup, baby bro."

"What are you doing here?" Nick managed to say. He couldn't get himself to move. Thoughts swirled in his head—Matt's knowing retort, and Francis assuring Nick that Matt wouldn't be at the wedding. There was also the sudden flutter in his stomach at seeing Matt's handsome face and herculean body stuffed into a well-fitted tux that accentuated all his best features. It didn't help that he was giving both of them a charming, almost jerk-like smile that masked a clear primal urge that was sparkling in his eyes. Matt must have been enjoying the sounds of sex that came from the bathroom. Nick tried not to stare at Matt for too long, and he made sure to keep his eyes far away from the man's crotch. His legs were still wide open, his muscular thighs like two giant arrows pointing to his manhood like some sort of invitation.

Nick put the thought from his mind—why was he thinking about Matt in this way? He loved Francis, but the sudden feelings of seeing Matt for the first time in several weeks was confusing. His body was betraying him, though his heart belonged to Francis.

Francis.

Francis had lied to him. He said Matt wasn't going to be at the wedding—right? He'd said that he loved him that very morning. Francis must have known that Matt was coming to the wedding. In the few moments of awkward silence between the three of them, realization dawned on Nick.

"Well it's my cousin who's getting married, right? Why wouldn't I be here? Didn't Francis tell you?"

That hurt Nick even more. Francis had definitely known.

Nick couldn't bear to even look back at Francis. His face was turning red. Francis had lied to him.

"You said you weren't sure," Francis argued, "that you were coming."

"I said I'd probably come."

"Probably doesn't mean one hundred percent."

"Are you mad I came?"

Francis hesitated for a moment too long. "N-no! Of course not."

"So... how have the two of you been? Well, I assume you've both been having fun..."

Nick couldn't take it. Francis had known and he lied. He knew Matt would be at the wedding. Francis was being possessive and must have been afraid of losing him to Matt. That's why he lied and told Nick that he loved him—in order to cement their relationship. It was all too convenient. Why would Francis have told him he loved him on the same day Matt was coming back?

The thoughts made his head pound like his skull was full of water. Without saying anything else, he took off. He left the both of them, running out the doors and down the hallway.

"Nick, what are you—wait!"

It took a moment for Francis to realize what had happened before he went after Nick. But the teenager was already sprinting down a flight of emergency stairs. Francis paused before turning towards the elevator. It might be faster, even if he had to wait for it to come back up.

"What happened?" Matt asked, following Francis outside.

"Forget about it," Francis snapped, clenching his fists.

"Did something happen between you two?"

"No."

"What's going on, why'd he—"

"Can you leave it? This is between me and Nick!"

Matt looked surprised. "Why are you getting mad at me? I just covered for the both of you while you guys were fooling around in there—Jackson came in and almost heard you guys fucking! I had to make up some bullshit about Aunt Marie being drunk to get him out—"

"Can you just leave me alone? I'll explain later." Francis slipped into the elevator and hit the button for the doors to close, praying that Matt wouldn't follow him inside. Lucky for him, Matt stayed put, still shocked at what had just happened. He watched as the doors closed on Francis before heading back to the hotel room.

Nick felt like he might cry. His throat burned and there was a huge lump in the back of his mouth. Though no tears fell, his chest still hurt to think about what had really happened. Francis had lied to get what he wanted—Nick. Was it so bad? Was it really so bad that Francis had told Nick he loved him, just to stabilize their relationship? Maybe it was the idea of it that bothered Nick the most—that Francis had manipulated him into the situation as opposed to Nick making a decision for himself once he saw Matt. But what did it say about Nick that he had all these sudden feelings upon seeing Matthew? Had Francis been right to keep that from him?

He was hanging out by the hotel's ballroom, where some light desserts were being served, but he didn't have the stomach to try anything right then. In fact, he hated being around the other people—straight, religious family members of Francis' who were all cheerful and excited. It didn't help when he felt a big hand on his shoulder and a greeting-slap on his back.

"Hey, dude! Nick, right?"

Nick turned around to see Jackson, one of Francis' cousins. He'd met him at the tux fitting. He was dressed sloppily then but was still hot. And in a fresh tuxedo, he looked particularly handsome.

Jackson was powerfully built. He had big, meaty shoulders, a very pronounced chest, bulging arms and thick legs. Every part of his suit fit him perfectly like a sock. He had a nice face too—a straight nose, a faint hint of stubble that he'd neglected to shave, light brown eyes and messy hair. Nick could tell that his hair had been dyed almost to a shade of dark orange-red since his bushy eyebrows were much darker.

Jackson was around 6'3", only an inch taller than Francis. He had nice teeth and charming demeanor about him. From what Nick remembered, Jackson had been nice at the fitting, even though he'd been a bit loud and made stupid jokes. He was definitely the hottest of Francis' cousins.

"Uh, hey. Yeah, I'm Nick."

"Nice to see you again, bro. I'm Jackson."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Is, uh, Francis around?"

Nick kicked the floor in discomfort. "No. I'm not sure where he is."

Jackson eyed him. "Oh. So, you alone down here?"

Nick stared awkwardly back at the desserts. "Um, yeah."

"Were you two in the room upstairs a while back?"

Nick froze. How did he know they were in there? Was he just assuming? "Uh... yeah, for a bit. But I got bored and came down here."

"Cool, cool. I might go back up and sneak some shit from the mini bar. They haven't put out any booze down here, just yet."

"Ah, I see."

"I was gonna get a buzz going before Matt told me about our Aunt. But I couldn't find her anywhere—I was hoping if she knew where to get some stronger stuff..."

"Your aunt?"

"Yeah... when I came upstairs, Matt said my aunt was wasted. He said I should take care of her while he tries to find an extra bowtie for the ring boy or something."

"Y-you were upstairs? In the room?"

Jackson paused. "For a moment. Did you maybe see Aunt Marie anywhere?"

"No, I don't know who that is."

"Oh. Well I've been searching for like fifteen minutes. Maybe someone already got to her. Damn, this shit is boring without the other guys. Do you wanna maybe sneak back up and get something to drink?"

Nick pondered the thought—getting a buzz going might take the edge off of what he was feeling right now. And it might make the stupid wedding go faster. "You know what? Let's do it."

Jackson laughed, slapping Nick's back with a huge grin. "Atta boy!"

Lucky for Nick, they took the elevator after Francis had come out of. He'd gone in the opposite direction, assuming that Nick had ran out into the parking lot to escape.

In the elevator, Nick and Jackson talked about nothing for a few moments before Jackson lead them back to the groom's side room. There were a few other dudes that Nick didn't recognize and Matt had disappeared, but Jackson wasn't interested in anyone. They were old and Jackson seemed to have already greeted them downstairs, so he took some drinks from the mini bar and handed half a dozen to Nick. They said some silent goodbyes to the others before they snuck off to a public sitting area near the elevator on their floor. Nick downed a shot of vodka right away, causing some looks of surprise and yells of encouragement from Jackson. He was still working on a jagermeister.

"You spot any hot chicks yet?" Jackson asked, finishing one tiny, thumb-sized bottle in one shot.

Nick shook his head. "No, you?"

"Nah. They're all too old or married. And the other half is family."

"What, are cousins off limits for you?" Nick joked.

"Shut the fuck up, dude," Jackson laughed, lightly punching Nick. "But seriously though, if tonight is gonna be as dry as it is so far, I might have to settle for a third-cousin or something to suck my dick."

"I'm sure you'll find someone. You're hot enough," Nick blurted out. It was the alcohol getting to him.

"Thanks, bro. You're not so bad-looking yourself. Hey, where's that boyfriend of yours?"

Nick froze. "Huh?"

"Francis!" Jackson said, laughing as though it were a joke. Nick realized that it was a joke to Jackson. He laughed back, trying to play it off cool.

"He's not my boyfriend. We're just buddies..." Nick lied, half wondering if it was true though. Was what happened between them something to break up over or was Nick just upset over nothing? He still wasn't sure what exactly Francis' intentions of saying 'I love you' were. Had he meant it or was it a way to keep Nick away from Matt for good?

"You sure?"

Nick looked up at him, his heart thumping. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jackson went silent for a while before speaking again. "You two disappeared at the fitting. At first I made nothing of it but today..."

Nick clenched the small plastic bottle. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I heard shit. When I went into that room. I heard Francis saying your name. In the bathroom. And when Matt came in and heard it... there was this look on his face."

"He'd gotten his s-suit messed up—I was helping him clean—"

"Shhh, shhh..." Jackson said, putting a hand on Nick's knee. "Relax, bro... nothing to get your panties in a twist about. I was just wondering if... if the two of you were messing around or anything."

"We're not." Nick's voice was firm, almost too firm, like he'd given away the obvious answer. He looked down at the floor, his face heavy.

"Oh. I see. Well, there's nothing wrong with it if you are. I know that Matt and Francis both had their share of experiences when then were younger and couldn't get no action..."

"What? You mean like—"

"They were popular in high school, so getting a blowie every now and then from a fag wasn't such a big deal when chicks wouldn't put out."

"O-Oh."

"Shit, sorry. Didn't mean to use that word. It's the booze."

Nick tried to play it off. "It's fine. It's not like I'm..."

"Gay?"

"Yeah. That."

There was a long silence between them.

Jackson spoke first. "Well, there's nothing wrong with getting it from a guy—"

"We didn't do anything."

"I didn't say you did! I was just sayin... a bit of fooling around here and there ain't done anyone no harm. A mouth's a mouth... and a hole's a hole..."

"Did Francis and Matt... fool around a lot? Back then?"

"Oh yeah, sure. Matt's pretty open about the dudes he's fucked—just ask him and you'll know. Don't tell no adults though, they'll get real pissed. Just between us boys."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Francis though... I heard him talk about a dude once but that was several years ago and we were both wasted so I don't remember much. With pussy dried up in that shit town I wouldn't blame him if he got it sucked from wherever he could get it. A guy needs it on the regular. Shit, I need it on the regular. Been without a good suck for over a week. You getting any action, bro?"

"Um... not really."

"Aw shit, sucks, dude. I hear your town ain't the hottest in terms of chicks, huh?"

"No, not exactly."

"Yeah, same in Leesville. All the good chicks are taken. And the rest are butt-ugly. Jeez, this shit is making me horny," Jackson said, looking down at his empty jager.

Nick didn't say anything to that. He was starting to get uncomfortable and Jackson's earlier question came back around: Where was Francis?

"You ever mess around with a dude before?" Jackson asked.

Nick answer was too quick. "N-no."

Jackson was staring right at him.

He tried to deflect. "What about you?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. A couple. Gay dudes sure know how to suck cock. Gotta give 'em that. You ever had one suck you off before?"

"I said no."

"Then you're missing out, bro! Not to sound like a homo or nothing but... I'd take a good sucking from a dude over a chick any day. Although a tight pussy beats all."

Nick finished the small bottle of vodka in his hand and continued to look down at the floor. He could still feel Jackson's intense glare on him. This dude wanted to get blown.

"I'm gonna pee," Nick said, hoping to lose Jackson on the way.

"Shit, good idea. I'll come with."

Nick clenched his fists. That's not what he wanted. He walked slowly to the end of the large hallway, watching a man walkout of the restroom. A few women trickled out of their washroom before Nick and Jackson slowly made their way over. Nick tried to think of a way to escape but nothing came to mind.

Reluctantly, Nick found himself in front of a urinal. The other stalls were full so he couldn't hide behind a door to escape Jackson's side. And worst of all, Jackson chose the urinal beside Nick's. There wasn't a lot of privacy.

Nick was only too aware of the jock unzipping his pants. He was slow and deliberate, carefully pulling his swollen member out of his fly like a never-ending scarf from a magician's sleeve. His thick, pink dick was uncut and half-hard, sticking out of his body like a third arm. It was a snake—a pink veiny python that flopped around like a dildo. The veins on Jackson's dick were swollen, and a strand of what looked to be pre-cum oozed from his red tip. His dick was so big that Nick was able to make all of this out from the corner of his eye—without taking a direct look.

Nick's own cock was beginning to harden at the fact that this huge dick was being paraded around beside him, but his fear of he situation caused him from getting a full boner. He tried to pee but for a horrible few seconds, nothing came out. The longer he stood there, trying to pee, the harder his dick got. And the sound of a hard stream of piss gushing out right next to him wasn't helping him in any way.

"Fuck yeah, I was gonna burst," Jackson said, his voice low. He shook his fat cock like it was a doggy toy.

Nick finally pushed the pee out of himself, holding his own dick with shaking fingers. It was taking all of him to prevent a full erection from sprouting out of his pants. He thought of the grossest things imaginable, but still, it didn't help. There was a ripped jock right next to him with his massive cock out, half-hard, peeing at full force. And he was showing no signs of stopping.

That's when it got weirder. Jackson gripped the length of his cock with a fist and began massaging himself, stroking back and forth with slow motions. He finished pissing but he still stood there, pleasuring his growing erection. His cock grew, thickening out to the size of a beer can while his head began to creep out of his tight foreskin. His dick was so heavy that even as his boner began to reach full mast, it hung downwards like a horse's cock.

Jackson was an animal—a buck that was ready to rut and mate with whatever hole presented itself. Nick could've sworn that if there was a roll of toilet paper lying around, he would have stuck his pecker inside and fucked it till he came. Although, Nick realized that the man's monster cock was far too wide to fit in a roll.

"Fuck..." Jackson whispered, his mouth open as he rolled his thumb over the wet bulb of his erection. He shook and slapped his manhood like a prime slab of meat, making the blue veins on his pale skin bulge bigger. More clear liquid, mixed with strains of a milky color, oozed from his flaring tip in huge loads. The splat of the wads of pre-cum that hit the urinal was loud enough for Nick to hear over the buzzing of the fluorescent bathroom lights.

Once Nick realized he had no more urine left in himself, he took the chance to run. He stuffed his own half-hard prick into his pants, not caring which way it went as long as he could zip himself up.

As he flushed the urinal and made to leave, Jackson's hand latched onto Nick's wrist and stopped him from moving.

"Where are you going?"

"T-to wash m-my hands..." Nick said, trying to pull his arm out from the man's grip. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"You're staying right here..." Jackson whispered back, looking down at Nick with lustful eyes. One hand was still on his gargantuan tool while he pulled Nick back.

"Stop—what the fuck are you doing?" his voice got a bit louder but not enough to alarm whoever else was behind closed doors of the other stalls.

"You're going to do what I want," he murmured, now shaking his 10-inch boner like it was a prize he'd won from a fair. He presented it to Nick with a smirk. "I know you want this..."

"You're crazy—someone will see us!" Nick tried to think of any excuse to get out of it—he couldn't just tell Jackson that he didn't want to do anything with him. If he hurt the man's ego, who knew how he'd retaliate. He didn't seem like the violent type, but with muscles like that, Nick had no intention of finding out.

"If one of them flushes, we can stop..." His grip tightened as he reined the teenager back in.

"I can't..." Nick said, whimpering now as his legs shook. He couldn't give in—despite whatever had happened in that hotel room, he still loved Francis whether or not Francis had lied to him. Jackson may have turned him on but the thought of doing anything with him would feel like the greatest betrayal to the man who had been there for him since Matt had left.

"Yes you can. You're going to."

"Stop, please!"

"You fucked Francis already, didn't you? Did he get you on your knees? Or did he bend you over?"

"You're drunk, stop it!"

In that moment, as Jackson wrenched his arms, Nick could think of no one but Francis. He didn't care about Matt, Jackson, or any other dude for that matter. He thought only about the utter cruelty he'd be showing his boyfriend, his lover, by giving up and obeying Jackson's commands.

"Get down on your knees for me..."

"NO!" Nick yelled, pulling his arm back in one final tug. He pulled too hard—falling backwards onto the floor as the bathroom door suddenly opened with a thud.

"I heard his voice—" Francis said, coming into the bathroom looking worried. He found Nick on the floor, fear and confusion all over his face as Jackson turned back towards the urinal.

"What—what happened? What's going on?"

Jackson zipped his fly and faced Francis. "Nothing, bro. Nick just slipped, that's all."

Francis ignored him, not having noticed that he'd hastily stuffed his overgrown member into his pants. Francis helped Nick to his feet and putting a loving hand over his back.

"Are you okay?" he asked, inspecting Nick like he was a child, fixing his hair and picking dust from his face.

"Y-yeah... I'm f-fine."