Page 48 of Sweat

His head shakes. “Don’t be. It was always there, even before I knew who you were.”

He’s brave. Brave, beautiful, and a good person who deserves to be with someone just as good. All I’m good for is helping him come to terms with himself while I continue to deny who I am. I’m good for getting him off and letting him experiment with touching a man. I’m good for training him to get onto first string where he belongs. Tommy could go pro, too, if he doesn’t quit.

“I’m sorry about Rebecca. I didn’t realize I was making you jealous. I didn’t really think I could.”

“It’s okay, Row.”

“You’re the only person I like touching me.”

He smiles like I complimented him. “You’re the only person I wanna touch.”

It does feel an awful lot like a compliment. Dirty, but sweet.

I finish my small Blizzard and leave the empty cup on my hood until Tommy finishes his giant milkshake. Before he does, he wraps my hand up in his own and presses his plump, cold lips to my cheek.

13

Tommy

First day on second string, we scrimmage against first string, which means scrimmaging against Rowan. Feels a lot like what we do on Thursday evenings, except all the starters are on one team, and all the people Rowan would call “chumps” are on my team. The second stringers are good, but there’s a reason they aren’t starters. They don’t do me any favors, and defending against Rowan is more arduous when our offense is lagging.

What we lack in finesse, we overcome with little-brother-syndrome determination. I realize we all have what it takes. It’s just a matter of building body discipline and mastering technique. The starters have those skills in spades.

We score one goal, but we’re decimated in the end. It’s demoralizing, made worse because I can’t even debrief with Rowan straight away like I’m used to. He’ll taunt me mercilessly on the field, but afterward he’s a walking pep-rally, bolstering me up and half-convincing me I’m hot shit. Then, of course, he gets me off in the front seat of his car. Who wouldn’t love that?

But at practice, we have to be cool. He keeps his teasing to a few murmured comments when no one’s looking, and we try not to stare at each other too long when the shirts come off in the blistering heat. If I let myself watch Rowan sprayCoppertone all over his body, my boner might just tear a hole in my shorts. We hardly talk at all during practice, and that sucks, but I get it, and we both agreed laying low in front of everyone is what’s best.

Off the field, it’s still the Tommy and Rowan show.

After coming out to Rowan as maybe-gay, I had a small panic attack thinking it would change everything. Like maybe Rowan was only into me because he gets off on turning straight guys on. He did say he’d only ever liked straight guys before. But if Rowan feels less into me now, he doesn’t show it. He still sizes me up like I’m hot apple pie, he still goes for my cock after a grueling workout, and he still sends me dick pics during his nightly wank sessions. Only thing that’s changed is that he’ll sometimes call me “gay boy” instead of one of his many other nicknames for me, but he saves that one for when we’re perfectly alone.

It feels nice actually, as if every time he calls me “gay boy,” it’s another step toward associating myself with something that feels true. Not just true, but fun. I have fun with Rowan, between sweating out my body weight and feeling like my bones are going to splinter out from under me. I love doing gay shit with Rowan more than I ever liked having straight sex.

Kissing him, touching him, sucking on his Adam’s apple while I hold his cock in my hand. I keep waiting for him to ask for head, but he never does. He must be waiting for me to do it on my own, but I’m too anxious. I want to be bold, as bold as Rowan was that day in the outdoor weight gym under a scorching sun, but Rowan and I have nurtured a dynamic between us where he’s the leader, and I follow wherever he takes me. That’s not very alpha of me, but not every guy is born with that alpha mentality. I sure as hell wasn’t, and Idon’t want to dominate Rowan. I just want to make him feel as much pleasure as I can give him.

The student gym still holds morning yoga classes during the Summer session, and Rowan takes me whenever I’m not working a shift. Not only does it help stretch me out for practice, but I’ve noticed a difference in my balance on the field. I’m moving better on my feet, and it helps me mentally wash away the stress of home so I can show up to practice focused and ready to work. It also always, without fail, makes me incredibly hard by the end, but I’ve taken to flipping my dick up into the waistband of my underwear and wearing a loose muscle tee that drapes over my crotch.

If the gym is empty enough when the class finishes, we go to the locker room together and share the wheelchair accessible shower to beat each other off. It’s always nice when I don’t have to show up to practice with blue balls.

Sometimes, on weekends, Rowan takes me swimming. But it’s not the backyard pool party kind of swimming or beach day road trip kind of swimming. The student gym has a natatorium with twelve lanes, a ten-person hot tub, and three diving boards. Rowan refuses to go into the hot tub with me. Says it’s like sitting in a hot broth of human skin and body oil. No matter how revolted he is by the idea, I still want to know what it’s like to chill in a jacuzzi with Rowan Hughes. Call me romantic, I guess.

Rowan is a skilled swimmer. Even wears those regulation Speedo shorts the competitive guys wear. He strips bare ass naked in the gym locker room, and I drool over how his cock twitches with life in between tugging off his boxer briefs and pulling on those skin tight swim shorts.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells me while sliding his palm purposefully inside his shorts to position his half-chub just right.

He’s bolder in the student gym locker room than he is in the team locker room. Lets himself check me out while setting himself up to be checked out. It helps that, here, we can choose lockers right next to each other. I’m sitting on the bench beside him, a perfect line of sight to his crotch, but I let my gaze drink in the whole of him too. Not just his bulge and the way his shorts sit low enough on his hips to show off the top of his ass. I may have been gay before Rowan was ever a blip in my universe, but I’ve never been so drawn to a man’s ass until him.

“I already got about sixty of those pics in my phone, actually,” I answer, glancing around us to see if the coast is clear. When I don’t notice anyone around, I stand up and press my bulge against the Rowan’s ass, the same way he did to me the first time we were naked in a shower together.

“You’re welcome,” he chuckles before shoving me back and tossing me a towel from his gym bag.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” I scrape my teeth across my bottom lip and wiggle my brows.

Rowan smirks. “Oh no, baby boy’s been thinking?”

“Sex can be more than just a cooldown from a workout. It can be a workout in itself.”

“Is that what you think we’re doing? Having sex?”

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