Page 38 of Sweat

“Don’t touch me.” I push my pants and underwear down to my ankles, then fist my cock until it’s throbbing. I shut my eyes and think of that hard, flawless body I’m obsessed with. When I feel lips on my cock, I imagine they’re Tommy’s. When I’m sucked in fully, I wonder what it would feel like to take Tommy into my mouth.

“That’s it,” I groan, steeling my jaw and breathing through my teeth. “Suck my fucking dick.”

I grip the back of Greg’s head and imagine I’m fisting Tommy’s hair when I hold him down on my cock as far as his throat will allow. I empty my balls into Greg’s mouth, grunting and panting and longing for someone else.

At least I could get off. As if that’s my life’s objective. Everything would be so much simpler if that were the case.

When Greg is through choking down my cum, I pull away from him and put my wet dick back into my pants.

“That was so hot,” Greg heaves with a giddy exuberance that only makes me pity him as much as I pity myself. He’s still on his knees when I walk away.

10

Tommy

Summer practice kicks off two weeks into June. Feels weird, being here when I’m not sure if I have Rowan’s blessing anymore or not. Then again, he did tell me what he thinks doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care what Rowan thinks about me, but I do. I can’t help it.

Took nearly a week of him ghosting me to accept he’s done with me. I hated myself for crying over him. I just don’t know how he can do and say all of that only to give up on me at the drop of a hat.

I’ll see you tomorrow.That was the last thing he said to me, over two weeks ago.

Now, I’m in the team locker room for the first time since Rowan jerked me off in the shower. My locker isn’t anywhere near Rowan’s, though. Coach has me segregated to the third string block. Not even second string, which is where I assumed I’d go until I could prove myself.

Even though Rowan doesn’t care anymore, I still feel like I let him down.

It was so hard to get this far, but now it all feels pointless. Summer training is no joke. Grueling daily practices under a blazing sun. Hours of drills, running, scrimmaging and mandatory gym time. I still follow the gym regimen Rowangave me when he was training me, and I’ve lost ten pounds since we started.

Because third stringers don’t interact with the starters very often, I don’t even see Rowan until the third day of summer training.

He looks exactly the same, and I’m not sure how I feel about that when his absence feels like a Rowan-shaped hole carved out of my chest. I stare too long at him from halfway across the stadium field, and he turns his head like he can feel my eyes on him. For a moment, I think to wave, but all I do is look at him, and all he does is look back at me.

That’s it.

Where did I fuck it all up? I didn’t try to kiss him. He’s the one who came into my shower stall. I told him after that it was all good, and I didn’t think he was gay or anything.Is he gay?

I told him I didn’t want him to fuck me when his cock was grinding against my ass like it was dying to get inside. I was just afraid. Afraid it would hurt, afraid I wouldn’t like it, afraid I’m not ready for all that. Maybe Rowan thought I meant that I’m only interested in him getting me off. But there’s so much more I want. To hold his hand. To hug him to my chest and kiss him until we run out of air. Maybe I’m not ready for all that either, but right now, I want it more than I even want to be on the team.

Erica is getting worse. Half the time, she can’t eat, and what she does eat comes right back up. She’s constantly medicated, and she sleeps most of the day away. She tries, though. Takes walks around the house and talks to Mav for as long as she can keep her head up. The doctors say we need to let the chemo do its job, but it’s hard to be positive when it looks like my only sister is on a fast track toward death.

When I’m on campus, I know I should be home instead. I should be the one taking Erica to her appointments, giving her her meds, and helping her bathe. Ma doesn’t need all that on her shoulders alone. I should be there for Mav too. It’s not fair he should have to go to day camp all summer instead of spending as much time with Erica as possible.

Then again, it wouldn’t be healthy for Mav to be stuck inside that house watching his mama struggle. He needs to cherish this time with Erica in case the worst happens, but he also needs to be a kid. Run around outside, make friends, and discover the good parts of life.

When I told Erica I made the team, she made it sound like I deserve to be a kid too. But I’m not a kid anymore, and I can’t be selfish like one anymore.

Rowan is always one of the last guys to leave practice. I know that because I sometimes wait in my truck, watching the stadium doors until Rowan comes out.

This time, I wait in the locker room. I tell people I’m hanging back to speak to Coach, but really, I just want to talk to Rowan.

When the place is empty, but Rowan’s stuff is still in his locker, I go looking for him. I find him in the outdoor lifting gym of all places, shirtless on the squat press.

Sculpted, sun-kissed and sweat-speckled, Rowan’s body is a work of art. His shorts ride up with each press, quads pulsing, and it’s only because his eyes are shut that I stare as long as I do.

“Thought you didn’t believe in weight training,” I say.

His eyes pop open, falling to me as he holds his position longer than normal. Jaw tight, he says, “Told you. Sixty percent cardio. Forty strength.”

I sit on the barbel bench in front of Rowan, straddling the end. “Can we talk?”

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