The Wild Heart

by Emrys Apollo

  Clint’s face was tense with emotion, his throat working hard. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face hard. “God. I don’t deserve you.”

  They were still standing, looking at each other. “Shut up,” Sean said lightly. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s forget it, alri-”

  But before he could end the sentence, Clint was moving forward quickly, pressing him into the wall. Sean felt himself be pushed flush against the wall and then, as Clint’s mouth touched his, it was as if he briefly went blind. His mouth had been parted in surprise, and then it was like a rushing onslaught on all his senses as Clint’s tongue touched his.

  Clint’s hand was on the side of his face, the other on the wall by Sean’s head. Sean kept his by his sides, terrified to touch Clint, although wanting to. Clint’s lips were warm against his, his tongue licking into his mouth. The kiss was hard, passionate, as if Clint was trying to say something with his kiss that he couldn’t otherwise. Sean felt his head swim in pleasure and, without knowing it, his hands came up to hold Clint gently at the waist.

  Clint was leaning into Sean more fully now, his hand tangling into Sean’s hair. He tilted his head to the left, deepening the kiss. Sean felt Clint nip gently at his lower lip and he moaned, his cock so hard it was aching. The sound seemed to calm Clint and he gentled his kisses, slowing the tempo.

  Sean felt like his very skin was on fire-he’d never kissed anyone who made him feel this way. The kiss was going on and on, long, slow, lazy ones that were making his head spin. His fingers tightened in Clint’s shirt, grabbing hard onto the material. He could feel Clint’s warmth pouring from him and it was so physically hot that it made Sean gasp a little.

  Clint slowed their kisses even more, and somehow it made Sean go even weaker. Clint was moving his mouth so gently, so fractionally, so slowly, it was like molasses and sweetness and heat and pleasure. He could feel every bit of friction of Clint’s lips against his now-it was overwhelmingly erotic and Sean felt his knees giving out a little. But Clint was there, pressing into him, holding him up with his own body.

  Clint’s mouth was so good against Sean’s, it was like nothing else. Clint was sucking on Sean’s lower lip, his tongue running slowly over it and Sean moaned in pleasure. Then Clint went back to tangling his tongue with Sean’s until Sean felt he was going to explode. He turned his head, breaking the kiss on a gasp, feeling overwhelmed, his senses so overwrought, he felt dizzy. Clint let him turn his cheek and, for a second, they both breathed hard, still flush against each other.

  Clint kissed Sean’s ear once, biting gently on it, making him shiver. He could feel Clint’s lips moving down his neck.

  And that’s when they heard the knock.

  Clint jumped back. He took a second to calm himself before quickly eyeing Sean. “Go to the bathroom,” he whispered, taking Sean’s hand.

  Sean let himself be led, still feeling a little overwhelmed. Clint nudged him in carefully and then shut the door. Sean locked the door and sunk to the ground, sitting on the cold bathroom floor, dazed.

  He could hear happy voices at the door and Clint’s laughter, but he tuned them out. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the door.

  If that was how kissing Clint made him feel, would he ever survive sex?

  ***

  The visitors didn’t leave, forcing Sean to get a hold of himself. He waited five minutes before realizing it was useless hiding out and he stood, splashing his face with cold water. His erection had gone down with the sudden arrival of people, but he still felt a little shaky.

  He patted his face dry and stepped out, pasting a smile on. He saw Avery and Paxton, perched on both their beds. Clint was sitting on Sean’s bed, next to Avery but with a respectable distance between them.

  Sean avoided Clint’s eyes, smiling at the other two. “Hey!”

  “How long do you take in the bathroom?”

  “What are you, putting on makeup?”

  Sean grinned. “Got to keep myself looking fresh.” His heart was still pounding and he could feel his cheeks starting to flush now. He didn’t dare look at Clint.

  “Let’s all go for lunch?”

  Sean nodded. He grabbed his phone on the nightstand, passing close by Clint. Their eyes met for a second and Clint smiled slowly, his eyes mischievous. Sean blushed and proceeded to ignore Clint.

  Clint seemed amused by this, but didn’t tease or push Sean. He kept a respectable distance between them, but sat down next to Sean at the lunch table. They were seated at a table in a corner. The rest of their teammates had mostly already come down.

  The table had a bench on one side with chairs on the other. The bench was against the wall, facing the restaurant. Sean and Clint sat there, somewhat in a corner.

  As Sean fussed with his seat, trying to maintain space between him and Clint, he could feel Clint’s warm gaze on him. “Stop,” Sean hissed, not looking.

  Clint chuckled, but looked away. Sean breathed a sigh of relief until he felt Clint’s fingers on his thighs. Shocked, he froze until Clint’s hand found his and Clint intertwined their fingers, squeezing Sean’s lightly. Sean felt his heart pound again, but part of him wanted to squeal in delight.

  He tried to pull his hand away, but Clint held fast. “I can’t eat like this,” Sean whispered, so red he looked like a tomato.

  Clint smiled, squeezed Sean’s hand again and let go. He turned to join the table conversation, laughing and joking with the rest of them.

  Sean smiled so much through the rest of the meal that Maurice finally had to ask him what the damn hell he’d smoked.

  Laughing, he made no reply, but Maurice’s twinkling eyes told him he that he probably knew the answer. Sean winked, silently thanking Maurice for spilling his secret.

  Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The mood in the locker room was buoyant, exuberant, ecstatic. They had finished top of the group with their win. It had been a gritty match and they’d had fierce competitors. But they’d done it and Sean felt like he was riding a wave of excitement.

  He hadn’t played today because his shoulder was still a little sore, but it was getting better every day and he was sure he’d be in the next match. Paxton and Cleo were singing loudly, shirtless, arms around each other, swaying from side to side. Even Maurice was laughing and jumping.

  Sean looked for Clint and saw him a little ways off, grinning and leaning against his locker. He wasn’t as happy as he should have been and Sean knew why. Clint hadn’t scored from open play in a long time and the media wasn’t letting him forget it.

  Clint was probably harder on himself than anyone else could be, and sometimes it physically hurt Sean to read the comments about Clint, the articles-always either questioning him or lauding him excessively. Sean knew that exaggerated praise could be as harmful as the doubts, but he also knew that the praise was deserved, true. It was just that it raised the standards higher and higher and it had set such a punishing precedent that nobody could possibly hope to replicate that level of performance week after week.

  Clint somehow managed to do it most of the time, but Sean wondered how damaging it was on him, physically and mentally. He wondered how long Clint could stand so strong, wondered where Clint drew all that inner resilience from. Sean knew he probably would have crumbled long ago, but this was the difference between genius and talent. This was what set Clint apart.

  It made Sean proud and anxious of him all at the same time. Troubled by his thoughts, he realized he was frowning at the ground. Shaking his head, he raised his gaze and saw Clint watching him. Sean smiled at him. Clint smiled back, but slowly. It was measured, his eyes still intent and watchful.

  Sean turned away. He didn’t need to shower and so he really had nothing to do here. He wished he could go home to Hunter. He missed him terribly. They called often, but it wasn’t the same thing. Children didn’t have the kind of attention span necessary for Skyping and Hunter often wandered off in the middle of a conversation
, leaving Sean frustrated.

  Astonished at how maudlin he was feeling, Sean threw an arm around Maurice who had just showered and was still a little damp. Maurice grinned back, wrapping his hand around Sean’s waist. They hugged quickly, hard, and Maurice laughed in his ear.

  “How’s the shoulder, Sean?”

  “Superb. I’ll be back for the next one.”

  Maurice ruffled his hair in answer, smiling. Sean dodged his hand, but the damage was done. He laughed, combing his hair with his fingers. His eyes strayed to Clint as they always did and saw him still leaning against the locker, smiling at Sean. There was something soft in Clint’s expression, something unguarded and open that made Sean’s heart beat a little faster.

  Ignoring it, Sean grinned and waggled his eyebrows. He mimed soaping himself up and raised his eyebrows. Clint nodded, taking a towel from his locker and heading to the showers.

  Sean debated briefly if he should wait or just head to the team bus, but at the last minute, he decided to go. He felt a little mentally tired, although he didn’t really know why. He kissed and hugged teammates or staff on the way out, everyone’s mood joyous and happy.

  He was one of the first few on the bus and he collapsed onto a seat, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Clint was shaking him awake. Blinking, he looked around, realizing they had reached the hotel.

  Clint was grinning. “Sleeping here tonight?”

  Sean pushed him lightly. “Go away.”

  Clint turned and walked out of the bus, still smiling. Sean followed, still yawning and running his fingers quickly through his hair. He wondered if he could skip dinner tonight and just go to bed. But he knew that the team would kill him if he wandered off by himself.

  Sighing, he followed them directly to the restaurant. Clint had sat down first somewhere in the middle of the long table. Sean purposely sat at one end of the table, feeling an overwhelming need to not have to participate too much in the dinner conversation.

  He ate quickly and, as soon as was polite, excused himself. He was feeling more and more exhausted. Briefly, he wondered if he was sick, but he felt good otherwise. He said a quick cheerful goodbye to the rest of the guys, smiling at Clint.

  When he entered his room, he staggered to his bed, pausing only to remove his pants before collapsing into bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

  ***

  Sean woke in the middle of the night. The room was pitch black and he could make out Clint on his own bed, fast asleep. Sean rolled to his side, feeling wide awake suddenly. He groped for his phone and checked his texts and emails briefly before putting it away.

  His mouth tasted filthy and he had to pee. Yawning, he padded to the bathroom quietly. When he finished and had brushed his teeth quickly, he came back to the bedroom to find Clint awake. He had turned on his bedside lamp.

  Surprised, Sean said, “Sorry! Did I wake you?”

  Clint yawned, nodding. “Are you okay?”

  Sean frowned. “Yeah, why?”

  “You seemed really quiet. You didn’t wait for me and you didn’t sit with me at dinner.”Clint sat up, swinging his legs out to the side of the bed.

  Sean laughed. He climbed into his own bed. He propped himself up on his elbows, grinning at Clint. “No, no. I was just feeling really tired.”

  Clint smiled. “I thought I had made you mad.”

  Sean scoffed. “What could you have done to make me mad?”

  “I thought…” Clint trailed off so Sean looked at him, arrested. “The kiss.”

  Sean flushed red. They had successfully managed to avoid talking about the kiss, distracting themselves with the match. He rubbed the back of his neck, heart beating quickly. “Oh. No,” he said cleverly, looking down.

  There was a silence thick with tension. Then Clint stood up, coming to perch on Sean’s bed. Sean felt his heart pound so hard it was physically uncomfortable. He was half lying down, still leaning on his elbows, Clint half above him. The position made Sean feel even more vulnerable.

  Clint smiled. “We’re okay, right?” he asked softly, his eyes searching Sean’s face.

  Sean nodded, mouth too dry to speak.

  The side of Clint’s hip was brushing Sean’s thigh. Sean felt the warmth keenly through the sheets and wanted to move away but felt this would be pathetic and forced himself to stay still. Clint’s hair was rumpled and he looked frankly delicious.

  Clint moved his hand forward, gently touching the back of Sean’s. Frozen, Sean stared as Clint lifted Sean’s hand to his mouth, brushing it gently with his lips.

  “Clint,” Sean said hoarsely, his voice just above a whisper.

  He didn’t know whether he was telling Clint to stop or go on, but Clint just smiled. He dropped Sean’s hand on the bed and leaned forward. He approached Sean very slowly, giving him time to turn his head away if he wanted. But Sean was just frozen, concentrating only on his dwindling ability to breathe.

  When Clint was just half a breath away from Sean’s lips, he stopped, his eyes searching Sean’s. Clint lifted a corner of his mouth in a smile and Sean felt warmth spread through his entire body. Very gently, Clint rubbed his lips over Sean’s. Sean’s elbows gave way almost immediately and he lay down fully, unable to hold his own weight.

  Clint followed him without breaking the kiss, gently nibbling on Sean’s lips. Sean sighed and opened his mouth, feeling lightheaded. Clint’s tongue was slow and sweet in Sean’s mouth. It wasn’t a very sexual kiss, but Sean was hard anyway. Clint’s hands came up, one to brace himself on Sean’s pillow and the other on Sean’s chest.

  The kiss didn’t last long probably because it was an uncomfortable position for Clint. He broke the kiss gently with a series of soft pecks. When Clint finally raised his head, Sean felt as if he was drunk on something.

  “Good night,” Clint whispered, pressing one last kiss on Sean’s cheek before going back to his own bed. He switched the lamp off quickly and rolled to face the wall.

  Surprisingly, Sean fell asleep almost immediately, his eyes so heavy, he couldn’t even concentrate on analyzing the kiss.

  ***

  Sean was understandably a little embarrassed the next day, but Clint was perfectly normal. Inwardly, Sean was amazed that Clint could be so calm and act like nothing was different between them, but Clint had always been very good at maintaining his poker face.

  Soon, Sean relaxed too and by the time they went down to breakfast, he was his usual, mischievous self. They bet on who would score more in training that day. Clint was leaning against the elevator wall and laughing hard, head thrown back, as they talked, and Sean thought, for a minute, that even if nothing else happened between them, he wanted this Clint more than he wanted any Clint-this happy, bubbly, dimpling Clint, eyes sparkling with laughter.

  Distracted by this thought, he simply looked at Clint, still laughing. Clint raised his eyebrows finally, smiling. “What?”

  Sean shook his head, grinning. “I was just planning how to out dribble you.”

  Clint pursed his lips, smiling. “You could never, old man.”

  Sean just grinned. They walked into the breakfast table still arguing and laughing and Sean felt even more keenly how important Clint was for him, his best friend first and foremost.

  Above everything else.

  ***

  Sean and Clint jogged together during training, talking about some of the other teams in the Championship. They argued about Nolan with Clint predictably taking his side.

  “He’s just 23, Sean.”

  “So? You didn’t do things like that then.”

  Clint smiled. “I’m a totally different person. I’ve never been like Nolan.”

  “So then why does it make it okay?”

  Clint sighed. “Because he’s learning. I don’t think we should be so hard on him.”

  Sean shook his head, half-smiling, feeling a little hurt though he didn’t know why. “You’ll always take his side,�
� he said quietly.

  Clint looked at him quickly, eyes careful. “He’s my teammate. He’s like a brother to me.”

  Sean met his gaze and understood what Clint was trying to say. He flushed. “I know.”

  Clint kept jogging, keeping silent. Then he said carefully, “I feel protective of him.”

  Sean nodded, feeling at a loss for words. Nolan’s relationship with Clint had begun to bother him somewhat, although he didn’t know why. It was just that Nolan seemed so openly in awe of Clint and Clint’s affectionate manner towards him was a little surprising for Sean. Clint was so reserved-he was like that with very few people.

  Sean, for example.

  But they’d had a friendship for years. A decade-long one, and they’d been best friends since forever. Sean hated it, but Nolan’s relationship with Clint had progressed so fast in the space of a couple of a years, it was almost astonishing.

  “We’re together every day, Sean,” Clint said, stopping and shading his eyes. It was like he’d read Sean’s mind. “We’ll obviously be close.”

  Sean kept nodding, feeling petty. He couldn’t help how he felt, but he also knew it wasn’t fair to Clint. He avoided Clint’s eyes. Unable to help himself, hating himself, he blurted, “He said you were his best friend.” Sean winced.

  Clint was quiet for so long that finally Sean peeked at him. Clint was smiling. “He said that, I didn’t say that,” Clint said softly.

  Blushing, Sean looked down. “What does that mean?”

  “You’re my best friend, Sean. I love Nolan. But I love you more. You know that.”

  Sean felt pleasure surge through him at that, but he felt compelled to be grumpy. “Why do you have to love him anyway?”

  Clint laughed. He started jogging again and Sean joined him.

  Clint ended up out dribbling and outscoring Sean, and, as punishment, Sean wrestled him to the ground and sat on him.

  ***

  That night, after dinner, they played video games together. Clint had climbed into Sean’s bed again, but this time he kept a decent distance between them. Sean was running so hot for Clint that he got half-hard anyway, but he was still able to keep an eye on their game.