Come in the Car Park

The match had been terrible and the car park was empty enough.

Andre was forty-two, still in his scarf. Liam was twenty-nine, which was adult and not a secret, and had spent the second half with Andre's hand on his thigh under the coat. They had done this twice in a flat. Never here. Andre looked at him over the roof of the car.

"Back seat. If you want. Say no and we get chips."

"I want your cock in my mouth. Then I want you to fuck me if we can manage the angle."

They managed. Liam sucked him in the dark, messy, eager, scarf still on. Andre came in his mouth and Liam swallowed, grinning. Then Liam turned, trousers down, and Andre pushed in with spit and patience and a groan he hid in Liam's neck. The car rocked. Liam stroked himself and came on the seat. Andre came inside him a minute later, biting his own wrist.

"Chips," Liam said.

"Chips," Andre said. "And my place after. I want you in a bed, not a gear stick."

Andre's flat was ten minutes and a bag of chips away. Liam sucked him on the sofa, scarf off at last, and then rode him, slow, eyes open, asking for harder. Andre gave it. Liam came untouched the second time, which wrecked them both. Andre came inside him and held him there. "Bed next time before the car," Liam said. "Car when we are already filthy." Andre laughed into his neck. They did the bed again before sleep, Liam on his stomach, Andre's hand in his hair, both of them done pretending the match had been the point.

The chips were eaten in Andre's kitchen, Liam still flushed, scarf on the chair. Andre bent him over the table and fucked him slow, then hard, a hand in his hair. Liam came on the tile. Andre came inside him and laughed at the gear stick they had survived. In the bed Liam rode him, eyes open, and came untouched again, which Andre called a talent. They slept badly and well. In the morning Liam sucked him in the shower and swallowed, then said the car park could be the encore, not the start. Andre said yes. The next match they left at half-time. The score did not matter. The back seat did, and the bed after, and the yes said twice.

They left at half-time and did not discuss the score. In the back seat Liam sucked Andre until he came, swallowed, then turned and took him, the car rocking, his hand on his own cock. Andre came inside him. Chips after, then the flat, where Liam rode him on the sofa and came untouched, eyes open, scarf on the floor. Andre fucked him again in the bed, slower, a hand in his hair, and came with Liam's name in his mouth. Morning was a shower blowjob and a plan. Car park for the filthy encore. Bed for the rest. The match was an excuse with a fixture list. They used it.

Andre stopped pretending the football was required. He picked Liam up and they used the back seat because they liked the rock of it, Liam's mouth first, then Andre in him, hand over his mouth, both of them coming fast. The flat after was the long version. Liam rode him. Andre fucked him on the bed. They came, and came, and ate toast. Liam said the car park was the spark. Andre said the bed was the keeping. They did both in one night and called it a fixture. The scarf stayed on the chair. The gear stick survived again. They were less sure about the seat.

Liam texted empty enough and Andre was there in ten. Back seat, mouth, then a fuck that rocked the car and fogged the glass. Liam came on the seat. Andre came in him. Chips, flat, bed. Liam rode him and came untouched, which still wrecked Andre in the best way. They slept. Morning was slow and filthy and a plan for the next away game. The scarf lived at Andre's now. The car park was the spark they still liked. The bed was where they said the quieter yes. Both counted. Liam kissed him at the door and said leave the gear stick out of it next time. Andre said no promises.

Liam left the scarf on the chair on purpose. Andre fucked him under it once, a joke that ended with both of them coming and the match forgotten.

For another late-night encounter, see Leather After Midnight.