Page 121 of Sweat

Oh, babyface.

My chest feels impossibly tight, my whole body warm and tingly, spreading heat to my face that I’m sure is turning red. Speechless, I answer Tommy’s musing by wrapping my arms around him and flattening his body on mine. I hug him tight, my nose under his ear and my fingers pressing into his back muscles.

Trying to lift the mood, I murmur, “We’re already family, remember? I’m your dad.”

Thankfully, he giggles at that while nuzzling his face into my neck.

I tell him I love him, and he says it back, then I whisper, “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Once we reluctantly separate from one another, I tug on some shorts from my bag, then find my electric trimmer in one of the inner compartments. I hand it over as soon as Tommy finishes dressing in a pair of boxers.

Quirking a curious brow, Tommy asks, “And what body part am I shaving tonight?”

Blushing, I say, “My head, fucker.”

“Yeah?” He steps close, sticking his hand to my head and running his fingers across my hair that I’ve let grow out too long. “I’ve been waiting to find out what your hair looks like grown out. It’s almost long enough for me to know if it’s curly or not.”

“It is. I don’t like my hair, though, and I hate going to have it cut, so I usually just buzz it myself.”

Hand drifting to the nape of my neck, Tommy agrees to buzz it for me.

I take the chair from the writing desk and move it into the bathroom, and Tommy makes quick work trimming my hair down to stubble. Through the mirror, I watch him dust the stray clippings from my head with his palms.

“Why don’t you like your hair?” he asks.

“When it’s grown out, it looks just how my dad’s looked in his mugshot.”

Tommy’s eyes connect with mine in the mirror, a somber expression I wish I hadn’t put there. Still petting my scalp, Tommy says, “It’s not his hair. It’s on your head. It’s yours. No matter what it looks like.”

“I know,” I sigh. “Still like it better this way.”

Thankfully, he smiles. He presses a kiss to the top of my head and says, “I like it too.” He hugs his arms around my shoulder and touches his lips to my temple. “Fucking hottie.”

I blush and snicker, turning my head and tilting my chin to kiss his mouth.

Then, it occurs to me… “Shit, man. We missed dinner.”

“Fuck.” He straightens up and darts his eyes around the small bathroom like there might be food stuck to the walls. “7-Eleven?”

Ick.“I guess. Shower first?”

With a funny waggle of his eyebrows, Tommy drops his boxers.

While Tommy washes my back for me, his hand slipping between my ass cheeks, I realize I just lost my virginity. Getting fucked for the first time by someone who loves me has been on my bucket list for years, and for years, it seemed as unattainable as climbing K2. I never thought, in all those years, the man who would fuck me and love me in tandem would be the baby-faced midfielder from Emerson Middle School and Johnson High.

You’re gay because you’re supposed to be loved by a man.

I still think about that. Right now especially, as Tommy curls his arms around me and presses his half chub against my ass, warm water speckling our bodies in a cloud of steam. Maybe I’m not gay because of the abuse, but because my soulmate is a boy. Maybe I’m gay so that I can know this indescribable feeling of love at the hands of the most incredible person I’ve ever met.

In the hallway, we run into Levi and Raisel, who also missed dinner. Raisel brought his PlayStation, and they got caught up playing Madden. Hopefully they had the volume up loud enough that they couldn’t hear me and Tommy fucking.

The four of us make the trek to 7-Eleven together, talking shit the whole way about this and that. I’m trying to be social and charming, keeping Levi and Raisel occupied on topics besides the obvious one. I’ve decided it’s fine to be out-of-the-closet gay so long as no one’s making a big fuss about it. So we talk about tomorrow’s opponents, their strengths and their weak spots. Levi’s been Snapchat stalking a few of the Utah boys, so he’s got some quality taunting material up his sleeve, if we’re everin a bind.

At the store, I go straight for the refrigerator section and find pre-packaged sandwiches, Babybel cheeses, and hard-boiled eggs. Tommy is so tall, his head sticks up over the aisles, so I find him quickly. Go figure, his arms are laden with snack cakes and chips.

“Really, Tommy?”

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