The Wild Heart

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The Wild Heart Page 11

by Emrys Apollo


  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clint standing up. He could feel him walking up to Sean’s back. Sean’s hands shook a little, but he tried to act like he didn’t know-and didn’t care.

  “It seems like you aren’t cooled down at all,” Clint said right behind him, his voice full of laughter.

  Sean looked over his shoulder and immediately regretted it. Clint was so close. His hair was still damp and he smelled of that familiar shampoo and soap. Sean had come to associate it with Clint to such an extent that he sometimes got hard when he smelled it.

  He forgot everything he was going to say at the sight of Clint, smiling, dimpling at Sean.

  He looked back into his locker, head whirling. Clint was laughing softly and the sound galvanized Sean into action, forcing him to try and retain some semblance of pride. “I’m cool. I’ve always been cool. Speak for yourself.”

  It wasn’t the best of retorts, admittedly, but at least he’d said something somewhat relevant to the discussion at hand.

  He’d take what he could get, thank you very much.

  “Lucky you. Because I’m definitely feeling very hot right now.” And with that line-lifted straight from a porn movie, Sean was sure-Clint pressed himself into Sean’s bottom.

  Sean gasped. Clint was very hard, very big and he was rubbing himself into Sean’s bottom. Sean closed his eyes in shock, grasping the wall of lockers in front of him and leaning his forehead against the inside of his locker door.

  “Clint,” he whispered. He had gone from zero to hundred in terms of a hard-on and his cock twitched at Clint still rubbing himself in slow circles on Sean’s bottom.

  “You’ve got such a sexy ass, did you know that?” Clint said in a low voice, his hand coming up to squeeze the aforementioned part.

  Sean jumped and whirled around. “Clint,” he said shakily. “We’re in the locker room.”

  Clint’s eyes were dark and hot. He glanced quickly around. “They all just went into the showers.” He was leaning closer as he spoke, pressing himself fully into Sean. Sean swallowed a moan as Clint’s cock pushed against his. “We have a couple of minutes.”

  It was so mesmerizing, Clint’s eyes, Clint’s breaths mingling with Sean’s, his lips just inches away, their cocks pulsing together. Unable to stop himself, he fisted his fingers in Clint’s shirt and kissed him hard, unable to muffle a moan.

  Clint shushed him but didn’t take his lips off of Sean’s. The kiss was hot, erotic, Clint’s tongue tangling hard with Sean’s. Sean rubbed himself against Clint, desperate suddenly, wishing they were back in their bedroom, but Clint pushed him gently against the locker, holding his hips still.

  “Not here,” Clint said against his mouth. “Just kissing. That’s all.”

  But that made Sean even harder, even more desperate. His hands had slid into Clint’s hair and were pulling not-so-gently. But Clint didn’t complain, only tilted his head, allowing Sean more access to his mouth, the kiss sloppy and rough.

  They could only kiss for a minute more before Clint heard footsteps. He sprang away immediately, but realized that Sean was frozen and disoriented. Clint physically turned him, making him face the locker and whispered, “Act normal!”

  He sat down immediately on the bench, arranging a towel over his lap.

  Most of Sean’s erection was fading anyway because of the interruption, but he still felt woozy and it took a giant effort to smile at Roger as he came from the showers in a towel. Sean changed in a daze, feeling flushed and avoiding Clint’s eyes.

  Clint was browsing his phone, a slight smile playing on his lips but otherwise behaving perfectly normally.

  Sean didn’t remember much of the bus ride home, but he made sure to sit with Paxton and not Clint.

  Clint seemed to find this funny and grinned at Sean on his way to a seat next to Avery’s. Sean pointedly ignored him.

  His crotch needed the rest, thank you very much.

  ***

  Clint was surprisingly well-behaved most of the rest of the day. He didn’t sit next to Sean during lunch and didn’t grin or wink at him from afar. He didn’t invade Sean’s personal space, talked about normal, mundane things and stayed on his own bed when they trooped back from lunch.

  He then proceeded to fall asleep with his shirt off, splayed across his bed, halfway through a conversation with Sean.

  Sean cursed him. It was completely unfair that Clint could have so much self-control. Here Sean was freaking out pretty much the whole day, his head still spinning from both their morning and locker room encounters and Clint was snoring the afternoon away.

  Irritated, Sean turned on the TV. He put on a comedy and tried to distract himself by lying down on his side, facing away from Clint that his eyes wouldn’t keep straying over to that side. Luckily, the TV was directly in front of his bed and this made it easier.

  It worked somewhat, but he ended up falling asleep too and when he woke up, the room was dark. Yawning and stretching, he rolled onto his back and saw Clint was awake too, looking through his phone.

  Clint glanced at him and smiled absently. “Hi.”

  Sean wasn’t ready to talk yet. “Mm.”

  That made Clint grin. But he seemed very interested in his phone and didn’t comment. Sean watched him for a few minutes then felt irrationally irritated again.

  He knew he was behaving with very little sense, but he both wanted and didn’t want Clint to be flirting with him. Mostly wanted, and he wished Clint would just read his mind and behave accordingly.

  Sighing inwardly at himself, he made his way to the bathroom. When he came back, mouth minty fresh from mouthwash-it had occurred to him to be prepared at all times for a kiss-Clint was still glued to his phone.

  Sean considered the hotel room windows and wondered if he could open it to chuck Clint’s phone out. He amused himself with dark thoughts of unfortunate accidents that would damage Clint’s phone when Clint asked, “Why are you smiling like that?”

  Sean realized he was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the window and grinning. He started laughing and went to his own bed. He smiled toothily at Clint’s amused puzzlement. “Just daydreaming.”

  “You get weirder every day.”

  Sean threw a pillow at Clint’s head. “Have some respect.”

  “I was thinking-”

  “Mm?” Sean opened the bottled water next to his bed, drinking water thirstily.

  “We should talk about sex.”

  Sean spluttered so hard, he almost choked. Gasping, he said, “Excuse me?”

  Clint was laughing. “Sex.”

  Sean took a deep breath. “You want to talk about sex? Generally? Or…?” He fought to stay calm, but he was already starting to resemble a beet.

  Clint laughed. “Why does it make you so uncomfortable? We’re grown-ups right?”

  Sean felt irritated. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t go talking about how I like my cock sucked with every guy I want to fuck, okay?”

  Clint flushed at that, his pupils dilating. “Well, why not? It’s not like I know anything about… that. I mean, there’s only so much you can learn from porn and-”

  That caught Sean’s interest. “You’ve been watching gay porn?”

  Clint flushed, but he kept his eyes up. “Yeah. I mean, I’m kind of in desperate need for some information here.”

  Sean felt torn between laughter and arousal. How sweet, and also how fucking hot. He kept a straight face, determined not to make Clint feel embarrassed especially since he was looking at Sean, practically daring him to smile. “Ah. Well. What did you learn?” He grinned wickedly at Clint. Revenge was so damn sweet.

  Clint glared at him. “I learned plenty.”

  “Mm.” Sean smiled slyly. “I bet you did.”

  Clint was turning redder and redder and Sean threw his head back, laughing. Furious, Clint came over and whacked him hard with a pillow. “Shut. Up.”

  Sean pulled him down and threw his arms around him, still chuckling,
nuzzling into his neck. Clint struggled half-heartedly, pushing him off. “No. I’m mad at you.”

  Sean grinned, kissing Clint’s neck lightly and then leaning back, still hugging him. “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am. Don’t kiss me.”

  Sean laughed. It had been a long time since he’d teased Clint and it seemed as if he’d gotten the bulk of the teasing recently. It was refreshing to go back to the old ways of their friendship, to feel free enough to tease Clint and not worry about the repercussions.

  “You like my kisses.”

  Clint smiled at that, looking at Sean affectionately. “Well, at least you finally believe that.” He pushed at Sean’s chest. “Now let me go.”

  Sean sighed and dropped his arms. “Please don’t tell me you have more questions. I’d die.”

  Clint grinned, making his way back to his own bed. “No, no more questions for now, and it isn’t just about sex. I wanted to kind of talk about us.”

  Sean nodded, his heart pounding. He knew Clint was attracted to him, but it was always scary having to hear that someone wanted to talk to him. “What’s up?”

  “Well,” Clint said, flushing slightly. His hand was running through his hair. “I don’t know how to say it. But I like you. A lot.” Clint was getting redder and redder.

  “You mean like you have a crush on me?” Sean said, grinning, unable to stop himself from using the word.

  Clint laughed, embarrassment in every line of his body. “Yes. I have a crush on you.” He smiled at Sean, his eyes affectionate. “I want to see how this goes between us. But I don’t know if I want to name it yet. Is that okay?”

  Sean felt blood rushing through his veins. “Yeah. But what do you mean exactly?”

  “Well. I mean. I want to keep… doing what we’re doing,” Clint said in a rush, his words almost jumbled. “But I want you to know I’m not just fucking around.” He flushed at the unintended pun. “I’m serious about you. I’m just not ready to call it anything yet.”

  Sean couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He felt his heart pounding with excitement. He had waited so long to hear these words. “Okay. So we’re something?”

  Clint smiled. “Yes, you’re my something.” His eyes were very warm.

  Sean flushed in happiness. “God, you’re so fucking cheesy.”

  Clint grinned. “One more thing. I’m not ready for sex. I mean… Like-”

  Sean nodded, trying to ignore his hard-on. “Fucking?”

  “Yeah. I want to, but-”

  Sean smiled. “It’s okay. We can take it slow. But is it just fucking you’re not ready for or…?”

  Clint was very red. “Just fucking.”

  “Because this morning-”

  “Yeah. It’s not that I’m not ready for that-I just-” Clint trailed off, looking at Sean.

  Sean nodded. “You weren’t ready then, but you might be ready the next time?”

  Clint looked very relieved. “Yeah. Is that crazy?”

  Sean laughed, feeling a little giddy. He went over to Clint’s bed and sat next to him. He threw his arm around him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Sometimes, because Clint was the one who always initiated things, who always took control, because Sean took the backseat, he forgot that Clint was new to this too, and probably just as scared and nervous as Sean was.

  It was touching.

  “No, it isn’t. We can do whatever you feel ready for.”

  Clint was smiling fondly at him. “You’re such a waste of space,” he said, pecking Sean on the lips.

  Sean’s heart was thrumming in pleasure, but he affected a look of hurt. “I thought I was your waste of space.”

  Clint’s arms went around his waist. “I never denied that.” He was grinning, dimples on full show.

  They kissed gently, soft and sweet, no tongues.

  “Come,” Clint said. “Let’s play Mario Kart. I need to kick your ass.”

  Sean groaned. “You got to be top there too, huh?” He meant the comment innocently, but flushed to the tips of his toes when he caught the double meaning.

  Clint laughed, tightening his arms, knowing Sean was sure to bolt in embarrassment. Sean turned his head, unable to meet Clint’s eyes. Clint nibbled Sean’s ear, chuckling. “Mm.”

  Sean pushed his chest half-heartedly, head swimming a little as Clint’s lips slowly travelling down his neck. He arched his head back, letting Clint have access. “I thought you wanted to play Mario Kart,” he said breathlessly.

  To his disappointment, Clint dropped his arms. “You’re right.” He kissed Sean quickly. “Come, let’s play.”

  Cursing his stupid mouth, Sean sullenly turned the TV on to set it up. He sighed inwardly, knowing full well that there was a night of sexual frustration ahead of him.

  But when he turned around and saw Clint fluffing up his pillow and Sean’s so that they could sit comfortably, he smiled.

  At least he got to be with his something.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next day, Clint was quiet and withdrawn. He smiled briefly at Sean when he shook him awake, but made no other attempt at conversation. Sean had woken up early and so he lounged on the bed, waiting for Clint, smiling at him as he finally emerged from the bathroom.

  Clint simply quirked his lips a little, but didn’t prolong eye contact. He looked troubled and Sean knew it was because of the match the next day. Sean was anxious and nervous too, but he knew Clint felt it in a way Sean never would.

  Simply because he didn’t live up to the enormous burden of being Clinton Blacker, the greatest footballer of all time.

  Sean shook his head inwardly. Thoughts like that were a straight path into hell. He watched Clint as he changed quickly. Clint was lost in thought, seemingly unaware that Sean was staring.

  “Clint?”

  Clint started. “Yeah?”

  “Hi.” Sean smiled.

  Clint’s eyes softened a little and he smiled slightly. “Hi.” He was combing his hair quickly now. “Let’s go?””

  Sean nodded. He squeezed Clint’s bicep gently as he walked past him. They walked to breakfast in silence, Sean knowing that Clint needed a little time to himself. Sometimes Clint had to be forced out of one of his moods, but Sean knew this wasn’t one of them.

  Once training was over, he would probably calm down.

  ***

  Training was quiet and strained. Sean felt so anxious that, by the end of it, he genuinely wished he hadn’t trained at all. He showered quickly, eager to get back to his room and escape the toxic atmosphere in the locker room.

  Only Maurice was still talking, giving his usual rousing pep talks. Sean nodded along, trying to match his enthusiasm. He stole a glance at Clint, who was sitting on the bench, head down, his expression closed off.

  Sean frowned at the white lines around Clint’s mouth. Clint hadn’t improved at all after training and seemed to be only getting worse. He felt anxiety fluttering in his chest and looked away. The more involved he was with Clint romantically, the harder it was to let Clint be Clinton Blacker, sporting genius with a magical left foot, media darling-all, of course, until they lost-at which point he quickly became the person at fault. Not just at fault, but the person who had singlehandedly ruined them all, who had let not only the fans down-but the whole damn country.

  He didn’t want Clint to suffer any more criticism.

  But he couldn’t stop him from playing. Because Clint loved football more than anything-it came second only to Andrew, perhaps. The whole situation made Sean’s head ache a little. He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard, forcing himself to calm down. The anger was burgeoning already and it scared him a little.

  By the time they trooped back to their rooms, Clint was silent, lost in his own world, only grunting a little at Sean’s lame attempts at conversation.

  Sean wanted to touch Clint, to comfort him, but he was scared of this closed-off Clint and didn’t know what to do. Before they had started their new relationship, he wouldn’t have th
ought twice. But now-now he was scared. He bit his lip, watching as Clint collapsed on his bed and rolled to face the wall.

  Sean frowned and slumped onto his own, turning the TV on. He flipped through the channels until he found a cartoon. It made him think of his son and he smiled. Hunter could sit in front of the TV all day if they let him.

  Clint got up suddenly and went to the bathroom. Something about his quick movements struck Sean as odd and, on impulse, he followed. He stood outside the locked door and listened. He could hear distinct retching sounds.

  Immediately, heart thudding with anxiety, he rapped on the door. “Open the door, Clint.”

  There was a silence. Sean knocked harder. “Open up, Clint.”

  Clint called back, voice muffled and slightly shaky, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Clint, I can hear you. Open up.” He placed his palm flat on the door and waited one long second. “Please, baby.”

  He could hear a long shuddering intake of breath inside the bathroom. Then there was flushing and water running and then Clint opened the door. Sean hugged him immediately, throwing his arms around Clint’s neck, so hard that he could feel a whoosh of breath from Clint.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered into Clint’s ear.

  Clint’s arms came around him tightly. He buried his face into Sean’s neck, saying nothing. They stood like that for a long time, Clint’s body trembling very slightly in Sean’s. He could feel Clint’s heart pounding hard in his chest. He held Clint until his breathing eased a little and his heartbeat calmed down.

  When he leaned back, Clint’s eyes were red but dry. “I’m sorry,” Clint whispered.

  “Why are you sorry?” Sean said lightly. “I always like touching you. Give me an excuse any time.”

  Clint huffed out a soft breath of laughter. “You pervert.”

  Sean grinned, his heart still contracting in anxiety. But Clint’s smile was such a relief. “For you, always.” He leaned in to kiss Clint, but Clint turned his head.

  “No, Sean,” he said. “My breath-”

  Sean laughed, this time in real amusement. He nuzzled Clint’s neck. “Why is your breath always an issue? We need to work on that,” he teased gently.

 

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