Page 34 of Fate in Motion
Nate kept complimenting me on how amazing I was today, saying it's not an easy feat to get over the century mark in yards. He doesn’t realize, though, that I played so well because he was constantly on my mind. I wonder if it was a coincidence that I played well after hanging out with Nate and getting caught by Josh, or if that had an impact on my great game.
It’s like Nate reads my mind because he looks at me and says, “How was your anxiety today? I watched parts of the game at Mel's, and you looked at ease.”
I can’t help but smile and reply, “My anxiety was non-existent today. I felt comfortable in my skin, with no intrusive thoughts. I just went out and played football. It was relieving, yet exhilarating.
Nate looks at me and smiles, clearly over football talk, and seductively says, “Want to know what else is exhilarating?”
Before I can even form a response, Nate puts his fingers into the waistband of my pajama pants and starts to lower them to the floor slowly. My dick, already semi-hard, pops out of my pants, clearly ready to play. I follow his lead and quickly pull his pants off.
With both of our dicks fully hard, Nate starts to tease me with his mouth. Before he puts his mouth on my penis, he says, “Can we try something new? Can you go on top of me, and we can try 69 that way?
Before I can respond, Nate blurts out, “I have this obsession with balls or at least your balls. I want to have them on my face while I suck you.”
This thought turns me on immensely, and I feel a tingle down my body. I go on top of Nate while we both start sucking each other rapidly. It’s like we are in a heated competition because it only takes a minute for both of us to bust in each other's mouths.
After my release, I fall in bed next to Nate and start laughing with him. I explain truthfully to him how good being on top while my balls are on his face feels but how I’d prefer not to do that much work. He laughs it off, understanding that being on top and holding that weight up with my arms is strenuous.
I kiss him on the forehead, and before we can even brush our teeth, we pass out.
Nate
As I sit on the train to Philly at 9:30 to meet Evan and my other siblings at the stadium for Carter’s Sunday afternoon game, I can’t help but think about the past two weeks. Honestly, they’ve been amazing.
I’ve seen Carter three or four times over the past two weeks. Most of the time, we’re at his place because, let’s be real, it’s a lot bigger and nicer. There’s an elevator, room to move around, and multiple showers to fool around in. The sex has been incredible, but even better, it has been getting to know him more.
He’s been lightly pressuring me to move in temporarily, especially since I’ve been open about my money issues. I’ve had a few gigs with Mel, mostly weddings. The pay’s been decent, enough to cover rent, but that’s about it. No extra spending, no going out. Lately, my time’s been split between band practice with Mel and nights with Carter. I haven’t made any new friends yet, but right now, my focus is on building momentum with my music and figuring out where things are heading with Carter.
The thing I can’t stop thinking about, though, is this: how is Mel not struggling like I am? We’re doing the same gigs, and yet she, her rent must be expensive, and she always seems chipper and well-dressed, like she’s not stressing about rent the way I am. Side hustle? Family help? I don’t know, and I’m not judging. But I am a little jealous.
Carter and I always talk about how upbeat and full of life Mel and Paul are. It’s no wonder they’re so close; they’re like kindred spirits. Carter and I agree we need to keep that kind of positivity in our lives. Negative energy drains him more than it does me, but I still prefer to be around people who lift me up.
Speaking of Paul, he and Carter have been spending more time together. Their friendship is slowly blossoming into something genuine. They usually meet at the bar where Paul occasionally bartends. It’s a gay bar, which honestly makes me proud. He has seemed more at ease lately. Paul told Carter it wasn't a sports bar, which put him at ease, knowing people there probably wouldn't recognize him. I'm sure the free drinks from Paul have helped lure him to the bar, as well. I haven’t joined them yet, as I’ve been tied up with rehearsals, but I plan to do so whenever I’m finally free.
Carter’s second game of the season went decently. He ended with 70 total yards; rushing wasn’t great since the O-line didn’t give him much to work with, but he did rack up 50 receiving yards on four catches. He still hasn’t gotten that first touchdown, but he’s not worried. He’s been proud of his game and is definitely hopeful the Hawks front office is impressed. The second game's player of the game was Jack Sawyer, who’s been killing it lately. The team won, moving to 2–0 on the season. They are kicking ass this season.
So yeah, when we hung out after that game, let’s just say…the night was extra fun.
After my midday daydream, I get off my Amtrak at Philly’s 30th Street Station and spot Evan waiting for me by the nearby SEPTA signs. He leads me to the nearby subway entrance, and we hop on a quick ride toward the stadium. The train drops us close enough that we finish the trip on foot, joined by thousands of fans as we approach the stadium.
When we get there, my siblings, Ian, Bex, and Rachel, are already tailgating hard, beers in hand, and repping their Philly jerseys like diehards. Meanwhile, I’m in my usual blue Henley, purposely avoiding any team jersey. I’m not trying to piss off Carter or get jumped by a group of Philly fans. Philly fans are known to be a bit intense.
Ian, my oldest brother, is posted up in a fold-out chair, chatting casually with Bex, short for Rebekah, whose hair is so blindingly blonde that it actually hurts my eyes when the sun hits it. I head over to Rachel, the sibling I tell everything to without hesitation. Don’t get me wrong, I trust Evan, too, but Rachel’s a therapist. She just knows how to listen and say the right thing, probably because she’s gone to school for it. But whatever the reason, it works.
I nudge her and playfully smirk. “Nice jersey, bitch. Carter gets you free tickets, and that’s how you support him?
Rachel shrugs and sips her beer. “Oh, hun, I could’ve bought my own tickets silly. But I love Philly, and you know how obsessed this city is with this team. I’m not trying to get murdered in the parking lot wearing a New York jersey.” I can’t help but chuckle.
Evan walks over and grins. “Stop bickering, ladies, and go make me a sandwich.”
To my left, I see Ian pulling out a cooler filled with basic sandwich ingredients: sliced deli meat, cheese, and some cheap-looking bread.
“That’s disgusting,” I tell him while pointing to the sandwich. “You’re so cheap. Why not just buy food inside the stadium?”
Ian says, dead serious but clearly messing around, “Dude. I have four kids. I can’t even afford to breathe.”
I laugh because, honestly, he's right. I don’t even know if I want kids; maybe someday, but four? That’s wild. I have no clue how he does it.
Bex, definitely on beer number five, grabs another and stumbles over, half-slurring, “So how long have you been with Carter? That’s wild. He’s like…a famous football player. Is his apartment, like, super nice?”
