Pushing Buttons

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All characters are 18 years or older.

This story contains elements of first time and light bondage.

Austin has a terrible night out with his best friend and long-time crush Alanna.

A big thanks to Antematter for his editing suggestions, and another big thanks to CupcakeSparky for her copy editing. Hopefully you all appreciate the work she put into making grammar and tense a priority.


The dull thump of one body hitting another still sent a bit of a shudder down my spine despite the fact that I had been watching rugby for years. Women’s Rugby, technically, and I only started because Alanna had begun playing in high school. There were expectations when your best friend turned out to be a local star, like attending all the games and some of the practices.

The small crowd cheered as Alanna drove her shoulder into the other girl’s gut, lifting her up off her feet before she slammed the girl into the turf. The ball popped free and another girl on the University team grabbed it and ran, leaving the two girls behind. Alanna, grinning like a fiend through her mouth guard, planted a hand on the tit of the girl under her and used it to propel herself upward, giving it a bit of a hard squeeze on the way.

This wasn’t obvious to the crowd or the referees, but I’d listened to Alanna describe her tactics enough times that I could probably narrate every move she would make on the field. Alanna liked to play dirty and get into the minds of the other team, and since she was a lesbian she ran with her outgoing personality and cupped asses, grabbed boobs and pet crotches; all very hard. I’d even seen her plant a smooch on a girl once while they had been under a scrum struggling with the ball between them. Alanna won it because the other girl had been so shocked.

She was off and running again, the girl she had left behind was rubbing at her chest with a pained, confused expression on her face. Rugby was rough, pinching and elbows and even raking with cleats were common, but a lot of the time girls just weren’t expecting to get tweaked sexually instead of violently. Alanna’s teammate scored a try and I leaped to my feet, cheering with the other spectators.

As we settled back to our seats everyone else was chatting with each other, exclaiming about the big hits so far and the fact that our team was doing so well. Our friends and roommates who had also come out to the game were sitting around me but didn’t bother trying to talk with me. I had developed a reputation over the last few years as an ‘avid fan’ of the sport; they were used to me sitting quietly staring at the field, assuming I was thinking of strategies and plays that Alanna and I would talk about endlessly when we got drunk.

What they didn’t know was that I barely watched the game at all. Ever since she’d first picked up a rugby ball, game time had been a reason for me to stare at Alanna without the chance of getting embarrassed. I’d had a long time to develop my crush on my unavailable best friend. The gay part might have been backwards, but I was in the quintessential ‘friend zone.’

Alanna was no stick-thin model type, though I still worried a broken nose was going to mar her model-like high cheekbones. She was what I liked to think of as full-bodied, not quite the ‘built like a brick shit house’ figure but somewhere close. Her build made her body-conscious though, and we had needed to have a talk about eating disorders in high school. Once she was feeling better about herself, along with her year round training for rugby, she kept ultra fit instead of wasting away or building up fat. Her core was sculpted and combined with her beautiful tits and full hips to give her figure gentle curves, rather than the dramatic hourglass figure she had thought she needed. Everything about her said powerful athleticism.

She looked over to the stands and our eyes locked from across the field. She grinned at me and waved and I waved back. Then she turned her attention to the other team and the game was on.

We’d been neighbours and friends since grade school. We had hit high school side by side and stayed that way despite the fact that she got sporty and I got artsy. I was the first person she told that she thought she might be gay, so we had watched some lesbian porn together and she decided she was. My crush was already firmly set by that point and I was heartbroken, but stuck with her as she went full-on lesbo. I was also the one Alanna confessed to when she realized she had gone overboard; she’d turned into an “attention-whore lesbian” and was being loud about it because she liked the controversy and the notoriety. She dumped the girl she had been helping ‘experiment’ three weeks before high school graduation and we went to prom together. As ‘just friends.’

The game ended shortly, Alanna and her team cheered off the field with the win. She and a few other girls had turned the program around in the last two years and were making a splash in their bahis siteleri newly attained division. We were juniors now and the girls were pushing to hit Division 1 for their senior year. They headed off the field, jumping on each other’s backs and generally getting rowdy. Wins led to celebration parties, which meant I was probably going to be the Designated Driver again: that was the issue with being the nice guy with the car.

There had never been a question of whether we would go to the same university after high school. Alanna got a rugby scholarship in a snap and I got in on my extensive resume and halfway decent grades. School president, lead in the school music department, debate captain; there were a lot of reasons why a university wanted a student like me, because it was obvious that even if my grades weren’t great I was going to succeed. We had both lived in the same dorm in our first year and people thought we were dating until Alanna started making out with one of her teammates at a party and everyone realized quite how ‘friendly’ she really was with the same sex. There had been a little tension on the team but it had gotten quashed by the captain. That didn’t stop Alanna from spending an entire night in my dorm room bawling her eyes out, worried that she was becoming the attention whore all over again.

I’d slugged my roommate hard when he said she was being an attention whore right then.

We moved off campus with three of her older teammates for our sophomore year and had inherited the rental agreement as they graduated, taking the better rooms on the top floor of the old house and gathering up new roommates. Two of them, Bev and Josh, waited with me for a bit as we made our way to the exit from the athletic building.

“Guess we’re headed out tonight,” Josh said with a grin. His style bordered on hipster with his longer hair and pencil thin beard, but it worked for him so we only ribbed him a little.

I nodded, “Yup. Alanna’s gonna get sloshed.”

“Hey, so am I,” piped up Beth. She was a shorter tomboy type, and a music major who played in a garage band with me. Alanna called her ‘Piercings’ due to the copious amount of metal on her ears, her two eyebrow studs, nose and lip rings. Josh was the singer for our band, and they became our roommates as well; it made for easy band practices if nothing else.

“You’re already sloshed,” Josh laughed, “You were pre-drinking for the game.”

“So what?” Beth demanded, taking another swig of her ‘I swear it’s Hawaiian Punch’ water bottle. “I’m gonna get fucked up tonight.”

“Just don’t puke all over my bed again,” I deadpanned.

“Oh Austin, you’re no fun at all,” She giggled, but had the decency to blush at the reference to her latest drunken blunder.

Josh’s head perked up, looking over my shoulder. I turned, thinking the girls were coming out early. Nope, just the city bus. “You waiting for Alanna?” Josh asked and I nodded in response. “Alright Beth, let’s grab the bus. We’ll go home and get our drink on. I’ve got a new mix for you to try, it has coconut juice and a liquor from Aruba-“

“Hippy,” Beth said.

“Hey, now. Hip-ster. Don’t degrade the hippies,” I quipped.

Josh just rolled his eyes and bumped my fist, “See you at home?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“You driving tonight?”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll drive tonight. Moochers.”

They grinned and ran to catch the bus, leaving me to wait with two sets of parents and a gaggle of boyfriends. I sighed and settled in on a bench to wait, gradually joined by a couple of the boyfriends who came over to chat. I was the odd man out in this group even if it wasn’t some physical thing; they were all dating the person they were waiting for while I wasn’t. Sometimes I got self conscious in situations like this; did people think I was desperate, waiting here for Alanna? I wondered if they shook their heads and talked about me when they walked away, the guy who was stuck in the friend zone and didn’t seem to get it.

I got it. I’d gotten it for a long time. I just couldn’t get over it.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket and when I checked it the call display said ‘Mom.’ I was about to answer but ended up throwing the call to voicemail because the team was coming out of the athletics building, all smiles and cheering. The first few girls met their boyfriends, their broad smiles building as young lovers came together, kissing and hugging and grabbing hands. Yeah, go ahead, rub my face in your happiness, I thought. It was one of my longstanding jokes; I was always single so I joked about PDA being a big deal. The key to a good joke is that kernel of truth at its core.

Alanna practically bowled over a father/daughter hug as she jogged past the parent-player reunion, headed straight for me. She skidded to a stop a foot in front of me and we did the Handshake. It was tradition: once before the game and once after.

Handshake, into fingerlock, into elbowgrab. See-saw. Raise the hand until we’re palm-to-palm and elbow-to-elbow. canlı bahis siteleri Wiggle fingers. Step back, step in and high five. Low five. Link arms, spin in a circle once, three steps away from each other, spin and draw finger-guns. Pretend to spin finger guns, then holster. Stalk up to one another, end with a big hug.

People stared. We didn’t care.

Alana’s thick laughter rang in my ears as we squeezed each other tightly. I wanted to kiss her neck, up her jaw and finish with her mouth. Her breasts, compounded by a sports bra, were pressing hard into my chest. Instead of doing anything I said, “You stink, Butthead.”

She snorted and rubbed her arms up and down, wiping her armpits on me. “Now so do you, Beevis.” I let go with a “yuck!” and she giggled.

“Did you see-?” She started excitedly and I was already nodding. “And the-?”

“Mhmm,” I said, “Huge. She looked rattled for like ten minutes after.”

She didn’t really care about scoring that much, she left that to her team and it worked out. Alanna was in it for the big hits. She knew I knew what she was thinking and didn’t even have to finish her questions. Her grin was wide and bright, her eyes lit up as the adrenaline from the game was only slowly leaving her system.

“That’s our sixth win in a row,” she continued. “Three more and we clinch a spot in the finals.”

“Easy wins,” I said, waving away any thought of failure, “You girls kicked some ass out there.”

“Yeah I did,” a wicked little glint pulled at her smile, turning it into a smirk. “You see that mess in the scrum?”

“No,” I answered. Scrums were a major part of what delineated rugby from normal football – it was like the lineup at the start of a football play except more than half the team could get into it on the fly and everyone locked together instead of just trying to push past individually. It also hid a lot of the illicit and technically-illegal things like punching and scratching and cleat-raking.

“I booted some chick so hard,” Alanna filled me in, “Right on her ass so perfectly my toe curved up and I practically planted my foot right up her cooch. She shouted and Rachel made a joke about the chick having orgasms on the field, it was fucking perfect.”

I laughed and shook my head, her teammates were almost as bad as she was.

“Where’re the others?” Alanna asked.

“Took the bus, didn’t feel like waiting for your slow ass.”

“Typical. Can’t wait for the star of the game. I think they’re alcoholics, we should have an intervention.”

“No,” I said, “I am not having another unnecessary intervention. Last time we all ended up drunk and Josh stole that stop sign we made him put back.”

“Fine, spoilsport,” She laughed as we headed towards the parking lot and my car. All the couples were holding hands but we walked side by side, our strides instantly matching. Which was more intimate? “If you’re vetoing an intervention, I demand your chauffeuring service tonight.”

“Done and done,” I said. She knew I was already going to be driving, I always did on game nights. “M’lady should have a shower before she doth doll herself up though.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad.”

I shut the door of the car once we were both in and proceeded to pretend to die from the stink. She rolled her eyes and punched my arm, so I turned on the car and rolled down the window, gasping for the fresh air.

“So charming,” she smirked, reaching for the radio. Getting out of the University parking structure was stop and go but once we were free the streets weren’t too busy. We chatted about our normal stuff as I drove; a couple of the other big plays in the game, our classes and other innocuous things.

“So tonight I’m thinking I’m gonna pick someone up,” she said somewhat out of the blue.

“Ok,” I said carefully. What else was I going to say? No, Alanna, don’t do that, I love you.

“I’m gonna pick up a guy.”

My braking at a red light became a little more agitated, the car rocking to a halt before I looked over to her. “Uhm, what?”

“Well, remember we talked like two weeks ago about me not having actually tried sex with a guy?” she asked.

Oh, I remembered alright. We’d been pretty buzzed and hanging out in her room in the house. I’d been sitting in her desk chair and she’d been lying on her bed with her head hanging off the side, looking at me upside down. I’d had a great view of her cleavage, and had struggled to hide my excitement at the theoretical idea of Alanna maybe not being totally gay. “Well… it’s been on my mind and I think I want to try it. At least like once, so I know or not. So tonight I’m going to pick up a guy.”

No, Alanna, don’t do that, I love you.

I could have said it. Right then, right there. Get it out there. Let her know if she wanted a dick, mine was available.

“Whatever you want,” I said instead. I felt like a coward.

“What about you?” she asked and my heart was in my throat until she continued, at which point it dropped to my gut, “You going canlı bahis to finally bring someone home, stud?”

I pursed my lips and sighed. “Doubtful,” I said bluntly. My list, the one with all the girls I would actually consider beyond the errant ‘I would boink her’ thoughts, had Alanna at the top and then maybe three or four others farther down the sheet.

“Why not? Austin, you need to get laid.”

“Because,” I said. It was the only defense I could muster.

“Come on, Butthead,” she grinned slyly, wiggling her fingers at me, threatening to tickle my sides. “There’s gotta be someone’s leg you want to hump like a little rottweiler.”

“Don’t you dare tickle me, I’ll crash the car,” I warned. That didn’t stop her hands from moving towards me. “Ok, ok! Maybe there’s someone, alright? I’m not gonna say who.”

She stuck her tongue out at me impetuously.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?”

She blushed and looked away, “Yeah. But I’m not telling you who.”

The men’s rugby team flashed through my mind, all of them big and athletic and good friends with the girl’s team. Half of them were dating in their little sports-clique. There was no way I could compete with them on a physical level.

“Could I maybe help?” Alanna asked. “Like, with your crush. Wingman it up?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, my grip shifting on the steering wheel.

My phone rang again and I dug it out of my pocket. ‘Mom.’ I handed it to Alanna, who immediately answered it on speaker. “Hi, Mom,” she said sweetly.

“Oh, Alanna, hey cutie,” My mom replied. They immediately started talking, Alanna updating my mother on everything in our lives. That was the problem with having a charismatic best friend for your whole life; half the time we were like siblings. The rule in both of our houses growing up had been no closed doors when hanging out with the opposite sex… unless it’s just Austin and Alanna. That had changed to just no closed doors when Alanna came out of the closet.

Perfect trust from both families. I still called Alanna’s parents Mr. and Mrs. Calvet, but Alanna called mine Mom and Dad.

“And it sounds like Austin has a crush,” Alanna said into the phone.

“No,” my mother said, “Not my boy. Who is it?”

“He won’t tell me,” Alanna said, giving me a fake-stern look. “He’s being quite stubborn.”

“I’m sure you’ll wear him down hun,” my mother said. Sometimes I was fairly sure she was on Alanna’s side more than mine.

“Oh, I plan to. Anyways, we’re home and I need to go get changed for our victory party. Loveyoubye!” I had pulled up into our little gravel driveway beside our rental house. My mom called her goodbye as Alanna got out of the car with her gym bag and headed to the house.

“Hey Mom,” I said once I was alone in the car.

“So I guess you haven’t asked Alanna out yet,” she said.

I groaned and put my head down on the steering wheel. “No, mother.”

“Austin, you just need to do it.”

“Mom, Alanna is a lesbian.”

“And I’m a pirate,” she joked. My mom had never believed Alanna was actually a lesbian, despite having caught her playing seven minutes in heaven with a girl at a party when we were sixteen. My Mom had actually grounded Alanna for the incident, and my best friend had stuck by the punishment she’d been given.

“Ok, she’s been my best friend my entire life.”

“And? Your best friend happens to be a beautiful girl who loves you dearly.”

“As a friend.”

“She also happens to be a very well put together young woman.”


“She has great tits, Austin.”


“Ok, ok,” she backed off and I could practically hear her hands held up defensively. We’d had this conversation dozens of times; the one thing Mom and Alanna didn’t discuss was the fact that I was in love with Alanna. “Well, are you bringing home a different future daughter-in-law soon? I’d like to know so that I can let Courtney know about her wedding.”

I groaned. “No, I’m not dating anyone else Mom.

“You are coming home for the wedding though?”

I smiled and shook my head, “Yes, I’ll be home for the wedding.”

“Austin, you know you could tell me if you’re gay,” she said.

“Mom! I’m not gay!”

“So you’ll be bringing Alanna then?”

“I need to ask her still, I think Rugby is done by then though so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

We talked for about fifteen more minutes as I sat in the car, getting updated on all the goings-on at home and with the extended family. My grandfather, the dirty old man, was on his third girlfriend in his retirement home. My Uncle Timothy wasn’t going to be at the wedding because he’d gotten a job working an oilrig. I heard about every ailment or goofy thing our three family cats and two family dogs had gotten into. The neighbours were moving out, blahblahblah. Finally Mom asked me if I wanted her to set me up with the nice girl she had met at the grocery store last week, so it was clearly time to hang up.

Alanna had left the door unlocked again. I know I had been just outside, but still; we lived in a poorer neighbourhood, all student-ghetto and low-income housing. I kicked off my shoes in the entranceway, “Alanna, you left the door open again! We should be going soon.”

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