by Emrys Apollo
It made things just a little bit awkward.
Clint wasn’t smiling at Sean, just looking at him, knowing there was a speech to come. His fingers were rubbing Sean’s slowly, the sensation heightened by his unhurried movements, almost as if he was taking comfort in it. Sean took a deep breath.
“How many are you planning to score tomorrow?” he said brightly.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Clint’s lips. “3. You?”
Sean waved his hand dismissively. “Only a hat-trick? I’m going for 6.”
Clint was smiling now. “Double mine huh?” His thumb was stroking the side of Sean’s hand now, moving slowly back and forth.
“Mm,” Sean said, nodding. “I want the world to finally know I’m better.”
Clint became serious at that. “You are.”
Sean rolled his eyes.
Clint shook his head. “You’re better in all the ways that matter. You’re a much better person.” He moved their clasped hands towards Sean’s chest and tapped it there. “You’re better here.”
Sean smiled. “You’re crazy. You’re the best everything to me.”
Clint shook his head, dimpling a little. He tugged Sean’s hand towards him. “Come here,” he whispered.
Sean felt his heart beating very fast. He leaned forward towards Clint until he could see Clint’s eyelashes, thick and soft and fringing his dark eyes. Clint let go of Sean’s hand and slipped his palms up the side of Sean’s chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly.
Sean felt his head swimming a little. The circumstances, their position, the bed-it was all so intimate. Sean could hear Clint’s breaths puffing on his ear, almost like sighs. He pressed his face gently into Clint’s pillow, letting Clint pull him down completely, their chests pressing against each other.
It was an uncomfortable position, to say the least, so after a few seconds, Sean reluctantly pulled away. Clint tightened his grasp. “Why?” he asked when Sean extricated himself gently.
Sean gestured towards his cramped position, sitting sideways on the bed, legs folded awkwardly on the ground. Clint immediately scooted towards the wall, tugging on Sean’s hand. “Come lie down then.”
Sean shook his head, ignoring the screaming voice in his head, pleading with him to say yes. “I can’t, Clint.”
“Please,” Clint said, his hand on Sean’s shirt, pulling gently. “Please, Sean.”
“Clint, I’m-” He shook his head. How could he say that he was already hard and he didn’t want Clint to feel it?
Clint seemed to understand anyway. He glanced down at Sean’s crotch. “It’s okay,” he said, cheeks reddening a little. “I don’t mind. Unless it’s a problem for you?”
Of course it was a problem for him. Why would he want to get into bed and spoon with a guy who he wanted to fuck? Sean sighed. Because he loved Clint more than he wanted to fuck him. Because Clint was his best friend first and his love second.
Sean slipped his shoes off. Clint immediately shifted inside, moving closer to the wall. His hand was still on Sean’s shirt, fisting it tightly. Sean lied down next to Clint, maintaining a small amount of distance .
Clint’s hand was on his forearm now. “Why are you lying on the covers? Get in.”
Sean’s head snapped towards Clint. “Are you kidding?”
Clint laughed sheepishly at this. “I’m sorry. Please, Sean.” He squeezed his forearm gently.
Sean looked at the ceiling. What the fuck was his life nowadays? Why was God giving him this much but not giving him everything?
Grimly, he cast up a prayer. I’d better win tomorrow for this bullshit.
He sighed, raising himself up on an elbow. Clint willingly lifted the cover and Sean slowly wriggled inside. Clint immediately shifted closer. They both lay on their backs, fingers touching. Their bodies were just lightly brushing against each other. Sean could feel Clint’s warmth through his clothes.
Sean closed his eyes, trying desperately to think of something unsexy. He decided Emerson was a good fit. He forced himself to think of Emerson naked in a hot tub. It worked a little.
It was also highly disturbing.
His eyes snapped open. He turned his head to Clint. Clint was already looking at Sean, almost like he was waiting. “I feel better when you’re here,” Clint said quietly.
Sean didn’t know what to say so he opted for a joke. “Everyone does. I’m the life of the party.”
Clint grinned at that. “You’re such a cocky moron.”
“Well, you’re the one who wanted a cocky moron in bed with you.”
Clint shifted even closer. He plucked at Sean’s hand until he lifted it above his head. Clint closed the gap so that his body was lying flush against Sean’s. They were quiet for a little while.
Sean felt like this was half-nightmare, half-fantasy. This was exactly what he wanted, except it ended with Clint’s lips over his, with Clint’s cock in him, with Clint’s hand pumping him until he came, moaning into Clint’s mouth as they kissed and kissed and kissed.
He closed his eyes, trying to banish the thought from his head. He was achingly hard now and when he looked down, he could see it tenting the sheet. Embarrassed, he glanced at Clint and saw that Clint had looked too.
Sean groaned out loud, unable to stop himself. He heard Clint’s soft chuckle. “You owe me for this,” he said furiously to Clint. “You owe me big.”
Clint was smiling. A part of Sean knew that he did make Clint feel better-he always had. Clint relied on him emotionally; Sean was his champion and his best friend. So he wasn’t really angry. He appreciated that Clint didn’t care that Sean wanted him in that way-that Clint still wanted Sean around despite it.
“Okay. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Sean glanced sideways at him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he said, laughing.
“Whatever you want.”
Sean looked at him fully. Clint was still smiling. Sean raised his eyebrows, grinning. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“What if I wanted you to run around the room, barking like a dog, on your hands and knees?”
“Done.”
“And if I said you had to howl like a wolf at the moon?”
Clint chuckled. “If that’s what you want.”
“And if I told you to dance the Macarena during dinner tomorrow?”
Clint raised an eyebrow. “You have terrible taste in music, but all right.”
Sean laughed. “Oh, please. We both know you wouldn’t do everything.”
“Try me,” Clint said, smiling.
Sean’s smile dimmed a little, his eyes growing more serious. “Don’t, Clint.”
“I told you- whatever you want.”
They were both staring at each other. Sean felt his breaths coming faster, his heart picking up speed. Suddenly, he felt like Clint was too close. He could see his mouth so clearly it made him ache a little. “I don’t want it like that,” he said in a very low voice.
“How do you want it?”
It was too much. They had a match tomorrow and-this wasn’t the time. Flustered and stressed out, Sean sat up suddenly, extricating his hand from Clint’s.
Clint sat too, putting his hand gently on Sean’s back. Sean flinched and Clint removed it. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t do this, Clint. We have a match tomorrow.”
For a second, there was silence. Sean peeked over his shoulder. Clint nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up-it just came up.”
Sean turned towards him. “I’m sorry-”
“No, Sean. You’re right. We’ll talk about this after.” Clint smiled to show him it was okay. He pushed Sean’s shoulder gently. “Go to your own bed.”
Sean felt a huge wave of relief. “If you want me, I can stay,” he offered.
Clint shook his head. “I’m actually feeling better. I know you won’t be comfortable here. Go.”
They smiled at each other. Clint gently leaned forwar
d and brushed his lips against Sean’s cheek. “Go.”
Sean went to his own bed then, cheek tingling and unable to control his smile. Clint switched the light off immediately after that and Sean realized as he drowsed in bed that Clint had cheered him up too.
***
The match was brutal and fouls went uncalled, but they won. The mood in the locker room was euphoric. Everyone kept hugging everyone else and Maurice kept giving speeches.
Sean was on a high. He’d scored the winning goal-and even though he’d hurt his shoulder a little bit-it didn’t matter. He felt completely, wholly happy. He watched Clint, who was laughing and hugging Maurice who himself seemed a bit keyed up.
Sean grinned at Paxton who slung his arm around Sean, hugging him. He wondered how to celebrate. He glanced across at Clint and suddenly remembered their talk last night.
His stomach flipped. He turned around, took his things and went to shower. As he stood under the water, he considered what Clint had meant. What did he want to talk about? What did he mean he would do anything Sean asked?
He knew what Sean wanted to ask. Was Clint really okay with that?
But Sean hadn’t ever wanted it to be like that. Maybe it was naïve of him, but he wanted Clint to do it of his own free will, not because he owed Sean.
Not that Sean would ever even ask-because that was just weird. He wished he could, though. He wished he could just ask for one night with Clint. One night and that would be enough.
But it was wrong. Their friendship was more important than Sean’s unrequited love. Sean felt tired suddenly as the hot water beat down on his sore shoulder. He wanted something tonight. Human contact. He wanted sex.
Just plain fucking-no emotions, no love, just fucking.
He considered. It was against the rules and Emerson would surely find out if he snuck a girl-or a guy-into his room. He sighed. There was no way except fucking one of his teammates, and he wasn’t going to do that to Clint. Or himself. Not when that could ruin things in the tournament later.
He emerged from the showers, wearing just boxers. He felt a little refreshed, but exhausted. His shoulder was still aching and he just wanted to sleep. He saw that Clint had already showered and dressed, was sitting on the bench and probably waiting for Sean.
He looked up as Sean entered. “Hi, goal-scorer.”
Sean preened a little. “Thank you, thank you, autographs later.”
Clint smiled, but frowned when he saw Sean opening his locker with his left hand. “Is your shoulder still hurting?”
Sean nodded. “It’s just a bit sore. I think it’ll be okay by tomorrow.”
“I could rub it for you.”
Oh, how he’d longed for those words from Clint. He grinned, unable to stop himself. “No way, keep your hands to yourself, mister.”
Clint rolled his eyes. “You’re a pervert.”
Sean waggled his eyebrows. “You like it, baby.”
Clint shook his head, but said nothing. He went back to looking at his phone and called Andrea. She immediately put Andrew on. Sean smiled, looking over his shoulder. He could hear Andrew’s high lisping voice and suddenly missed his own son, Hunter.
He had had a slight fever yesterday so was probably already in bed. Sean decided he’d call tomorrow morning.
He struggled a little with his t-shirt, working it slowly over his aching shoulder. Clint made as if to help him, but Sean shook his head. The less touching they did today, the better. Clint sat back down, eyes shrewdly assessing Sean as he kept chatting with his baby.
Sean sprayed himself with his cologne lightly and brushed his wet hair. He glanced at Clint and saw that he was waving goodbye to Andrew. When he ended the call, he looked up at Sean.
“Can’t accept my help, huh?”
Sean grinned. “I don’t need anyone’s help, Mr. Clinton Blacker.”
Clint rolled his eyes. “Are you ready? Finally?”
Sean shook his head. “I think you should be more respectful towards the goal scorer, your savior, your very own genius teammate.”
Clint had started snorting halfway through the sentence. Sean grinned, shut his locker and gestured for Clint to start walking. He followed behind, admiring Clint’s bottom-had there ever been such a magnificent bottom?
He busied himself with thoughts of that beautiful bottom.
And when Paxton later asked him what the fuck he meant with that loopy smile, Sean just laughed.
***
Come to my room. I want to talk to you.
Sean frowned at the text, staring at his phone. He really didn’t want to go, not when Clint was still in the bathroom and in such a good mood. But if Paxton had something important to say-Sean sighed. He rose and tapped the bathroom door.
The water stopped.
“What?” Clint called, his voice muffled.
“Paxton asked me to go to his room. I’ll be back in a while, okay?”
There was silence. Just when Sean was about to repeat the question, Clint said, “What does he want you to go to his room for?” Clint’s voice was a lot louder now, almost as if he was just next to the door.
“He said he wants to talk.” Sean paused, frowning. “Do you want me to say no?”
“No. It’s okay. You go.”
“Okay, bye!”
There was no reply, only the sound of the water again. Sean wondered whether Clint was angry. Maybe he had wanted to talk to Sean about last night? Sean felt his heart speed up a little at the thought-in a way, maybe going to Paxton’s room was a good idea. He certainly didn’t want to have to talk to Clint about… that.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even realize that he had arrived at Paxton’s door until he was just outside. It was ajar, held open by a shoe. He tapped the door lightly before pushing it open.
Paxton was lying down on his bed, watching the TV. He was shirtless and looked like he had just taken a shower.
“Hey,” he said, smiling.
Sean wandered over, noticing that Avery’s bed was made up neatly. “Where’s he gone?” he said, jerking his head towards the bed.
“Hector and him are watching some movie.” Paxton patted the bed. Sean sat down next to him, stretching his legs.
“You were good today,” Paxton said, sitting up a little and turning towards Sean.
Sean grinned. He flexed his arms. “I know.”
“Don’t you feel like celebrating?”
Sean sighed a little, his head dropping back on the pillow. “Of course.”
“You know what I want?”
Sean turned his head and was startled to find Paxton very close. He’d somehow moved in as they were talking and now he was only inches away.
“What?” Sean said, though he was starting to feel he already knew the answer.
Paxton smiled and moved in very slowly, giving Sean the time to move away if he wanted to. Sean didn’t. He didn’t know why he let Paxton kiss him, but somehow he wanted it. He wanted a distraction, wanted a celebration. All his reasons not to sleep with a teammate somehow disappeared as Paxton’s mouth touched his.
For a second, Sean didn’t kiss him back, just let himself be kissed. He let Paxton move his mouth gently over Sean’s in soft brushes, and when Paxton slowly let his tongue run over Sean’s lower lip, he parted his lips just a little.
That was enough for Paxton. He cupped the back of Sean’s neck and let his tongue slowly brush the inside of Sean’s lower lip. Sean shuddered, his hands coming up to gently hold Paxton’s sides.
He was returning the pressure just a little now, his tongue coming out to touch Paxton’s. But a small voice was starting to speak up in the back of his head. A small voice saying Clint.
Sean tried to ignore it for a little while. Paxton was a good kisser and when his head slanted to one side, going deeper and harder on the kiss, Sean felt a moan escape him. Correction, he was a great kisser.
But the voice was insistent, and just as Sean was about to pull away, Paxton lifted his head,
looking towards the door.
“Oh, hey, man!”
Sean was still a little disoriented from the kiss, but he turned to look at the door and felt his heart stop. Clint was standing inside the room, his eyes so cold they were like ice.
“Sorry,” Clint said grimly, “I knocked, but no one replied.”
Sean realized that he hadn’t removed the shoe holding open the door when he’d entered. The door had been ajar all this time. His heart was pounding. How much had Clint seen?
He felt his stomach swoop so hard it made him nauseous. Clint wasn’t looking at him, only at Paxton. Look at me, Clint. Look at me.
But Clint simply smiled-a very forced one-and said, “I’ll leave you two. Have a good night.”
He kicked the shoe inside the room and closed the door behind him. Frozen, Sean simply sat there as Paxton chuckled. Paxton leaned towards him again and Sean was so shocked, he let Paxton kiss him again for a few seconds.
Then he pulled away. “No, Paxton. I can’t do this. I have to go.”
Paxton sighed. He eyed Sean as he scrambled off the bed. Sean stood awkwardly by the bed, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry.”
Paxton shook his head, smiling wryly. “It’s okay. I figured. Go.” He waved towards the door. Sean flashed him a grateful smile and hurried out the door.
He had to make this right with Clint.
***
He knew it was bad when he came into their room and Clint was sitting on Sean’s bed, facing the door.
“Clint-” he started, raising his hands.
Clint laughed harshly, standing up. Fury was emanating from every particle in his being. “Who do you think you are? What was all that about doubting you? You made me feel so guilty, and here you are lying to me the whole fucking time.”
“Clint, no, it isn’t like that-”
“Am I blind then? You said you never with-with-him,” Clint hissed, moving fast towards Sean.
“Please, Clint, listen-” Sean said desperately.
“No!” Clint cut his hand through the air. He was directly in front of Sean now and he was shaking with anger. “You lied to me.”
