Cocky Batter

by Drake Rockford

  He listened to his friend saunter off, mumbling epithets against Adrian’s music teacher while Adrian wondered where he could find a willing tutor at this late stage of the semester.

  A moment later someone was behind him again.

  Adrian turned and regarded Dale with a frown of annoyance. “Not now.”

  Dale sat beside him on the bench. “What’s up? You should be on cloud nine. You won the game, you won the bet. Why aren’t you gloating?”

  “You know me: I don’t gloat.”

  “The fuck you don’t!”

  Adrian laughed and punched Dale on the arm. Hard. “What do you want?”

  Dale rubbed his bicep. "Pete says you need a favor.”

  “I told him no cocksuckers.”

  “You’re a douchebag, Chambers. Tell me the problem already. You won't catch cooties by talking to me. I promise."

  Adrian chuckled despite himself. “Sorry. That was pretty mean.”

  “It was pretty homophobic. Not like you. Pete, yeah. Not you. So what’s wrong? Make it quick. I’ve got a bus to catch.”

  Adrian sighed with resignation. Might as well tell him. Pete would later if he hadn’t already. “I’m flunking Music Appreciation. If I don't pass the final essay on Monday, I lose my scholarship. And I haven't even started.”

  “I didn’t know you appreciated music.”

  “I don’t.” They gazed at each other and then burst into laughter. Adrian punched Dale again. “Don’t laugh, punk. I needed an easy class to fill my roster. That dipshit Rudy said MA was listening to a bunch of different music and talking about it.”

  Dale returned Adrian’s punch: strong, but not as hard. “Uh, no.”

  “Well, no duh! I’ve paid a fortune for those music geeks to do my assignments. But the semester is over. They’re gone for summer vacation. Only ones left for late-term finals are us jocks and . . . oh, who cares! Point is I need someone who knows music to help me write a 10-page analysis of a live music show.”

  “That's unfortunate.”

  Adrian shot him the evil eye. “You’re gay,” he deadpanned in the sing-song tone teens used when expressing displeasure.

  Dale snapped his fingers. “You’re right! You want me to pull some strings to get you in the club? I admit, maintaining membership is a bitch, but it has its perks. Like sex whenever you want.”

  Adrian hit him again. “Come on! Don’t you know some music geek that can help me write a review of some period piece or something?”

  Dale nodded. “I can do it.”

  Adrian shook his head wildly. “No. Forget it. I don’t want to be in debt to you. I can find someone else.”

  “You sure? You’ve only got this weekend."

  Dale had a point. Adrian tilted his head as if questioning his own sanity. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, okay. What are we bartering with here? Blowjob?"

  “Tempting,” said Dale with a grin. “But no. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. No strings attached.”

  “None?”

  “Well, one. One date.”

  “No way!” Dale flinched when Adrian went to punch his arm again. “Why the hell do you want to date me?”

  “Not date you. Go on a date. The day we do the paper. We can make it a night out for shits and giggles. I want you to have fun, to smile a little. You’re always scowling.”

  “Only at you,” said Adrian with a chuckle. “You’re my arch-nemesis, after all.”

  "Sure, during the season. Season’s over for me. There’s no reason for us not to be friends.”

  “Except that you like me.”

  “I’m gay. I’m supposed to like every good looking guy I meet. Says so in the terms of agreement. It’s nothing personal.”

  Adrian shook his head in amused dismay. “Fucking crazy. What will your boyfriend say?”

  “I don’t have one,” said Dale. “I’m not into the monogamous thing.”

  Something in his voice betrayed his words. His tone was softer than usual, the same cadence as when he’d let a bit of hopeful sincerity slip in during the game. But it was tinged with neither hope nor sincerity this time. Adrian detected discontent. Perhaps regret.

  For the first time, Adrian paid attention to the way Dale’s blue eyes rested on him, tender and defenseless, like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights.

  Or maybe it was Adrian caught in Dale’s gaze.

  “I’m not much into monogamy, either,” he said and stood to break the discomforting intimacy. “No real guy is.”

  “Guess we’re just two peas in a pod,” joked Dale. “Practically on the same team.”

  “The fuck we are!” Adrian punched him again, in the same spot. Hard.

  “Oww! That’s gonna bruise, you fucker!”

  “Man up,” called Adrian as he walked away. “No date of mine is gonna be a pussy!”

  Chapter 4: Fraternizing With The Enemy

  With brisk determination, Adrian crossed the field and exited the stadium. He had intended to catch the shuttle to his apartment building, but the jubilant atmosphere caused by the springtime warmth and victorious game encouraged him to take the thirty-minute stroll through campus and admire the scenery.

  Straggling students enjoying their final hours of the semester together called out to him with admiration. Some milled about outside the sports complex, reliving the Rams’ glorious win. Two girls pecked him on the cheek and ran off giggling like high schoolers.

  Knowing he had achieved heroic status buoyed his spirits. He waved at random couples necking in the shade of trees. He whistled in attempted harmony with the sonorous chirping of birds hiding in the canopy, the leaves rustling as they hopped from branch to branch.

  Even the thought of Dale couldn’t ruin his mood. The nerve of Dale blackmailing him for a date! Yet, Adrian wasn’t repulsed or even annoyed. Rather, his joy increased. That glimmer of envy and admiration returned because he was again impressed with Dale’s lack of inhibition. Only Dale could proposition a straight man with no fear of being pummeled. Adrian could hardly ask out a girl without fear of rejection. He could never go for what he wanted. Or be as free-spirited as Dale.

  He found himself thinking about Dale’s playful demeanor. How he sounded like a kid on the cusp of puberty when he laughed. Or how he raised his eyebrows to be silly and ran his hand over his cropped, blond hair.

  Why are you even thinking of him? You’re being gay.

  As if conjuring up an evil spirit, thinking of Dale seemed to enough to make his annoying presence real.

  “Addy, wait!”

  Adrian was halfway across campus when he heard his name. He turned to see Dale running up to him, flapping of his arms like a mad man.

  Never once slowing his pace, Adrian said flippantly, “Took you long enough,” when Dale reached him. “I knew your dumb ass would follow me.”

  Dale matched his stride, not winded in the least from his dash. “Pretty sure of yourself, huh?”

  “You’ve been at me for weeks. Didn’t take rocket science to figure you out.” Adrian slowed his pace a little. “Now what?”

  “Since we’re exchanging favors, I wondered if I could chill at your place a few hours? Until we go out.”

  “What! Why?”

  “I missed the team van back to campus. My car is back there, so I have to wait for someone to come get me. But you know how those guys are. No one wants to come. So I either wander around alone in town or hang with you.”

  “I hear there’s this place where people go to waste time when they have nothing better to do,” teased Adrian. "It's called Starbucks.”

  Dale stopped in his tracks. “Seriously? I can’t chill with you? It’ll be easier to work on your paper that way, too.”

  Adrian continued walking without so much as a glance backward. “Hmmm. What’s up with Pete? Or Rudy?”

  Two long strides caught Dale up. “As far as I know, they have a double date.’’

  “Those idiots don’t date. They fuck.”
Adrian glanced aside. “So they found willing prey, huh?’’

  “I think they’re still hunting.’’

  “God help us if those Neanderthals ever procreate.”

  Dale squeezed out that boyish laughter again. “I thought they were your best buds?”

  “Sure they are,” said Adrian without a trace of insincerity. “That doesn’t make them any less goofy.”

  “Oh, okay. So?” drawled Dale, his expression hopeful yet guarded.

  “Yeah, sure.” Adrian grabbed Dale by the arm as they crossed the street. He tugged roughly and pointed ahead. “Right here. I live in that building.”

  They entered and Dale went immediately to push the elevator button. Adrian grabbed him by the arm again. “Stairs are quicker. Plus good exercise.”

  He bounded the steps ahead of Dale, three at a time, and fast despite all the mass he carried. He made an abrupt stop on the third-floor and Dale collided into him, his hands reaching out to grab Adrian’s shoulders as he steadied himself.

  Adrian might as well have been a wall; he didn’t rock even a little when Dale bumped into him. Nor did he move while Dale trailed his hands the length of Adrian’s arms and chided him playfully.

  “How about a little notice, next time? I could have bruised my face on that damn back of yours.”

  Adrian glanced back. “Fair warning: my place is tiny. And a real mess.”

  Dale snorted. “Of course it is. You guys are bad at cleaning up. Like cleanliness is some extra chromosome that skipped you guys.”

  “You guys?” Adrian furrowed his brow as he opened the door. “Jocks?”

  “Straight guys,” clarified Dale. “Breeders.”

  Adrian rolled his eyes and closed the door behind them. He motioned for Dale to take a seat at the kitchen counter and kicked some clothes strewn on the floor out of his way. “Soda? Beer?”

  “Beer.”

  Adrian bent over to grab a six-pack from a small, waist-high refrigerator. “Don’t be staring at my ass,” he called over his shoulder. He chuckled and handed Dale a Budweiser. “It’s off-limits, weirdo.”

  Dale frowned. “You know, I might be weird, but I’m a jock, too. Gay jocks do exist. Hard as it is for a breeder to fathom.”

  “That’s a cheap shot, Dale. You know I respect you. It’s just . . . ”

  Dale sipped his beer. “What?”

  Adrian snapped open his can. He flicked the metal tab towards a wastebasket and shrugged when it missed. “It’s stupid. For some reason, I don’t think of you as gay.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think of you as straight.”

  “Come on, man. I’m serious.”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry. Why don’t you think I’m gay?”

  “I know you’re gay. But I forget sometimes because I don’t think about it. I don’t have to, you know? It’s not like you’re in my face waving a flag or shit like that.”

  “You don’t think of me as gay because I don’t prance or mince my words.”

  “Exactly. Plus, you play sports! You’re normal.”

  “Yep. I am. And I suck dick.”

  Adrian glared at him from across the counter. “Can’t you be serious?”

  “I am! I suck dick, I eat ass. I go to clubs, I go to glory holes. I’m gay. A hot gay jock. And that’s normal.”

  Adrian slammed his beer onto the counter harder than he intended. “I never said it isn’t. I’m open-minded. I’ve been to gay clubs, you know. I just don’t like them. The music sucks.”

  Dale raised an eyebrow. “Ever been to a glory hole?”

  “Sure. I like my dick sucked like any other dude.”

  Dale was incredulous. “By a guy?”

  “No! Girls.”

  “Girls go to glory holes?”

  Adrian couldn’t tell if Dale was sincere or being a dick. “Yeah,” he answered cautiously. “I guess. Don’t they?”

  “I’ve never seen a chick there,” said Dale, shaking his head. “But then, who knows who’s on the other side of that partition. I might be getting sucked off by fish.” He shuddered with exaggeration. Then grinned. “You might have been sucked off by some tranny.”

  Adrian grimaced. “Never. I could tell the difference.”

  “I doubt it,” said Dale. He motioned for another beer and drained half before adding, “Especially if it was a female-to-male tranny.”

  “Wouldn’t that still count as a girl?” asked Adrian.

  “I'm not sure. I don't know any trannies.”

  “Would you let one blow you?”

  Dale considered. “It'd feel the same, right?”

  Adrian spread his hands questioningly. “You wouldn’t be able to tell if a girl was blowing you?”

  “No idea. Only guys have given me blowjobs. I’ve never been with a girl; not even a kiss.”

  “Me either.”

  Dale guffawed. "You’re a virgin?”

  “No! I meant I’ve never been with a guy,” clarified Adrian.

  “Not even experimental?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a kiss?”

  “No,”

  “Do you want—?”

  “No!”

  Dale drained his beer. “Yeesh. Don’t bite my head off. Just checking.”

  “I take it back: you do seem gay. Fucking weirdo.” Adrian laughed. “But you’re okay.”

  Dale got up and crossed the kitchen. He plopped his empty can in the wastebasket, already overflowing with cans and take out boxes.

  “You, sir, are a fucking slob. Don’t you have a fuck buddy that doesn’t mind cleaning up around here?”

  Adrian shook his head. “Nah. I’m king of the one night stand. Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em. Rather, fuck ‘em and tell them to leave right after.”

  “Goddamned pig. No wonder you’re single. You plan on kicking me out, too?”

  “Nope. I don’t plan on fucking you.”

  Dale raised a brow and smirked. “Plans change.”

  “Damnit, Dale. Don’t ruin a good thing.”

  “What thing is that?”

  “I don’t know,” Adrian huffed, squirming in his seat now as if it was the stool that was uncomfortable and not the topic. “This.”

  “This?”

  “Our friendship.”

  Dale smiled. “I thought we were no more than amicable adversaries on a truce since the season is over—for the Wolves, anyway.”

  Adrian's eyes lit up and his grin spread. “It's over alright. We creamed you guys. I almost feel bad for putting a whipping on a friend like that.”

  “You picked a fine time to decide to be friends. I go home for the summer in a week. I won’t see you for a while. Maybe not even when school starts up again.”

  “Why’s that? We can hang on the weekends. You always bring your raggedy-ass around to harass me anyway.”

  “Because I’m transferring schools. To play on a new team.”

  “Pete told me,” Adrian admitted. He now recognized what had been nagging him all day. “I didn’t think it was true.”

  “That damned big mouth!” Dale looked more disappointed than angry. “I wanted to tell you.”

  “Why didn’t you? I thought we were buddies.”

  “Really? We’ve never spent time alone before. It seemed like you always had to have Pete and Rudy around as a buffer.”

  Adrian balked. “No, I just spend a lot of time with those guys. And you and me, well, we’re on different sides. Seemed weird to be too chummy with you during the season. Like sleeping with the enemy.”

  “Pete and Rudy didn’t have a problem.”

  “Pete and Rudy are fucking weird!”

  Dale laughed and conceded that those two were a bit strange. “But no more strange than you and I. At least those two have things in common. We’re like the Odd Couple.”

  “We’re no type of couple,” said Adrian. “Only in your dreams.”

  “You’re too sensitive, Addy. Loosen up. It was an innocent observation.”

>   Adrian rose to defend himself. “I’m loose.”

  “From where I’m sitting,” said Dale, “your ass looks mighty tight to me.”

  “Dale!”

  Adrian massaged his temples and huffed. He looked at his grinning guest and realized his discomfort encouraged Dale. He grabbed another beer and went back to the previous topic as if unfazed by Dale’s antics.

  “Why do you need to transfer?” Adrian asked.

  “With Haverford dropping out of the NCAA, I need to find a school that will let me play.”

  “But you said you aren’t even serious about baseball!”

  Dale sighed and sat back down. “My dad is. He’s been trying to train the gay out of me since I was twelve.”

  “Fucking dick.”

  “He’s alright. I mean for a conservative old bastard, he’s pretty reasonable. But he’s a sports fanatic. He’s always expected me to be his pride and joy on the field—any field.”

  “He the only reason you play baseball?”

  “At first. But when I discovered I was good at it I started loving it. By high school I was kinda bored with it; I’d discovered dance and music. Which I was even better at. That was when my old man put the pressure on. He put my tuition on the line: Either I play a sport or forego college. So I played. I still do to keep my tuition and allowance flowing.”

  “The bastard!” said Adrian and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Now I see where you get your criminal mind. Your old man is blackmailing you into being straight.”

  “He knows I’m gay.”

  “Yeah. But as long as you play the sport, play the role,” reasoned Adrian, “he can pretend you’re straight. Just going through a phase. I mean, like me, he knows you’re gay, but he doesn’t see you that way.”

  “Maybe because it’s hard for him to understand.”

  “Does he love you?” asked Adrian seriously.

  Dale didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

  “So play his game. Give the old man his delusions. And rake in the cash while you do it.”

  “Well, no shit, Sherlock. That’s why I have to change schools. My dad will be disappointed I’m ditching his alma mater, but he’s not that traditional. He’ll prefer I play sports anywhere than stay at a conservative Bible-thumping college that doesn’t offer sports.”