Passing to Payton

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by C. E. Kilgore




  Passing to Payton

  C.E. Kilgore

  Copyright 2015

  Tracing The Stars

  All Rights Reserved

  Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. While references might be made to actual locations, products or events, the names, characters, places, products and events described in the book are a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains love between two men, including explicit scenes of intimacy and a whole lot of romance. This is intended for audiences of legal age and for those who understand that love is love.

  Passing to Payton

  “Dude, did you see the looks on their faces after that touchdown?”

  “I thought they were gonna cry.”

  “I would too if I just lost the last game of the season.”

  “Man, Tucker, you cry every time you watch WALL-E, so you can’t talk.”

  Tucker shut his locker. “Aw, c’mon LeBron, you know that shit is sad, when you think he’s gonna die, and that girl robot is-”

  “Ha!” Another player joined in from down the aisle. “Damn, I think I see a tear welling up right now.”

  “Fuck you, Peterson!” Tucker shouted across the locker room aisle.

  “Not even if you put on a dress and some makeup,” came Peterson’s reply.

  “I dunno,” LeBron scratched his chin, giving the massive Tucker a glance over. “He might clean up pretty nice. If I had a few shots of Jack...”

  “I’m sure Jamie would be after your dolled-up ass, Tucker!” Peterson laughed.

  “Man,” LeBron reached across the aisle to slap Peterson upside the head. “Watch yourself. You know that shit ain’t funny.”

  “It’s okay,” Jamie shrugged it off from a couple lockers down, like he always did. Daringly, he gave Tucker his own long look then shook his head. “Nope. Sorry Tucker, but I think you’re just too damn big for me. Peterson, however... I’m sure it’d be small enough for me to handle.”

  “Oooooh, daaaaamn!” LeBron laughed with a little ‘you got served’ dance while Peterson muttered something about queers in locker rooms. LeBron hit him upside the head again. “Dude, grow a pair. You know Jamie has way better taste in men than what you’ve got to offer.”

  “Whatever.” Peterson huffed, gathered the rest of his stuff then made his way out of the locker room.

  LeBron sighed, shouldering his duffle bag and leaning back against the lockers between Jamie and Tucker. “You’d think after playing with a gay guy for two seasons, he’d get over himself.”

  “Not a big deal,” Jamie shrugged again.

  “It’s bullshit,” Tucker spat after tugging a clean t-shirt on over his bulky torso. “I mean... You do everything you possibly can to not give straight guys the wrong idea. Hell, you even let us shower first, which isn’t necessary.”

  “It is,” Jamie smirked. “Coach’s rule.”

  Tucker’s brow furrowed. “You also just won us another fucking game, man. I don’t care if you like sucking dick or eating pussy. You’ve always thrown a good game-”

  “And LeBron caught a good game, and you defended a good game,” Jamie replied calmly. He’d gotten used to Tucker and LeBron jumping to his defense. They’d been doing it since that first practice, when the coach had a ‘sit down’ with everyone to explain how and why Oklahoma State had drafted a gay quarterback.

  “It’s a team win, not my win,” Jamie continued.

  “Uh-huh,” Tucker smirked. “And I bet those pro-ball scouts on the sidelines today were here to check out my fat ass.”

  Jamie laughed. “Nah, they were here to check out LeBron’s chicken legs.”

  “Man,” LeBron laughed. “These chicken legs just ran sixty yards for a touchdown that you threw and made a whole bunch of Wildcats cry.”

  “Sucks to not be a Sooner,” Kyle Liang commented as he passed between them on his way out the door, then he stopped with a glance back. “Oh, you three coming to Payton’s birthday bash tonight?”

  “Hell yeah!” Tucker cheered. “No way am I gonna miss getting Payton plastered! You hear that, Payton? You’re gonna get toasted tonight, boy!” Tucker looked around the nearly empty locker room. “Damn, guess he already left.”

  Liang snorted. “Yeah, just you three lovebirds left.”

  Tucker wiggled his eyebrows at the short-statured kicker. “Wanna make it a foursome?”

  Liang shrugged and raised one eyebrow. “Ask me again tonight after I get wasted.”

  LeBron chuckled as Liang left the locker room. “I’m still convinced that dude swings your way, Jamie.”

  “Totally,” Tucker agreed then looked at Jamie. “Don’t you have like, gaydar or something?”

  “No,” Jamie rolled his eyes and grinned. “For the last time, Tucker, I do not have gaydar. It’s not something queers come with installed on their dicks.”

  “Damn.” Tucker’s face deadpanned. “Wouldn’t that make it easier, though?”

  “God damn,” LeBron nearly lost himself in laughter and pushed Tucker towards the door. “C’mon, fool. Let’s get outta here so Jamie can go have a shower without you inspecting his cock for a radar gun.”

  “Tell me it wouldn’t make it easier!”

  Jamie watched the two leave, his own laughter echoing in the now empty locker room. The truth was, Kyle Liang was bisexual and had made a pass at Jamie first season, but Jamie had declined. Kyle was cute and all, but not really Jamie’s type. Despite Tucker being way too big, and straight, Jamie liked big dudes. Men with muscle and height and-

  “Fuck.” Jamie cursed at his brain for the semi-boner he was now sporting as he undressed. Playing with a bunch of men that could be considered his type was an education in self-discipline and willpower. He’d gone two full seasons without any fuckups, missteps, or anyone filing a complaint with the staff. Jamie was also against ever flirting with a teammate, not that his cock listened.

  Which was why he kept the damn thing harnessed, and was yet another reason he was glad for Coach’s rule about the showers. Removing the specialty jockstrap, he glanced in the mirror of his locker door at his pale, bare ass and his half-hard cock. It’d been a while since either one had seen some action. University was supposed to be the fun time of your life. For him, needing to keep a clean and neat reputation (another one of Coach’s rules), had meant lengthy dry spells and staying out of certain clubs.

  It was worth it though. Coach said he had a real chance of becoming the first openly gay pro quarterback. Jamie knew the heavy weight of what that could mean to so many others who’d love to play football and be able to love men at the same time.

  Shutting the locker door, Jamie exhaled that weight. Another season was over. It’d be next season before he seriously entertained any of those scouts that frequented the field.

  LeBron was a shoe-in for a contract. Tucker, well, Jamie hoped those scouts could see what a good team player Tucker was. Jamie didn’t have any lofty ideas that scouts were completely ready to sign on a gay quarterback, despite two gay players already in the NFL, and other sport players coming out recently. The backlash had been there, and Jamie wondered if the world was ready for a gay man who liked to toss footballs.

  ‘Get it? Balls? A gay man tossing balls?’

  Jamie chuckled quietly as Tucker’s voice whispered that horrible joke from first season in his head. Man, that guy was a laugh a minute. And, most of the time, the poor guy was being serious.

  Picking up a shampoo bottle and his plastic zipper bag of bathroom crap, Jamie headed into the shower room. Empty stalls were littered with dirty towels to be picked up tomorrow morning when the cleaning crew showed up. Despite being ce
rtain he was the last man in, one stall was occupied by the broad, mountainous and tattooed backside of Payton Remy.

  Jamie’s cock took immediate notice as his heart lodged into his throat. Damn, the guy was gorgeous. Tall, muscular, and everything Jamie had ever lusted after in a guy. It didn’t help that the guy was also nice, funny, and a whole lot smarter than what folks took him for.

  Jamie watched as a line of wet, white suds drizzled down the man’s flexing back, across a tribal tattoo and down between the man’s ass cheeks. Jamie’s throat went dry as his cock swelled and oozed a bead of precum. The slick bead dripped down the back of Jamie’s hard shaft, and an involuntary moan tickled his throat.

  The shampoo bottle slipped from Jamie’s slacking grip and bounced loudly off the tile floor. Payton turned around, his front side lathered in suds spattered across more tattoos. His deep green eyes pinned Jamie in place as Jamie’s pale skin burned crimson.

  “Hey, Jamie!” Payton grinned, apparently oblivious to the complicated aspect of the situation.

  “Aw, shit.” Jamie forced himself to eye the white tiles at his feet and quickly turned his exposed, fully erect cock away from Payton. “I’m so sorry, dude. I didn’t hear the shower and thought everyone was gone.”

  “That’s okay, man,” Payton’s deep baritone replied. “It went cold on me, so I turned the water off for a minute. I think LeBron took one of his twenty-minute sauna showers again.”

  Jamie gave a tight, flimsy laugh. “He’d say he earned it, and the rest of us slackers can freeze.”

  Payton’s laugh was rich, and it vibrated against Jamie’s insides. “Ain’t that the truth. Can’t say I disagree. You should get a warm shower, though. He caught the ball and scored the touchdown, but you threw that beautiful pass right into his hands.”

  “Thanks.” Through the nerves racking his entire body, Jamie managed a smile. A small uncomfortable silence formed, and Jamie decided to make an escape. “Uh, just let me know when you’re done.”

  “Wait a sec. You don’t gotta leave.”

  Jamie paused in his crouch to pick up the traitorous shampoo bottle. “I do.”

  “I talked to Coach and told him how dumb that rule is. About the showers, I mean. After so many wins, he had to admit it wasn’t fair.”

  “It’s not about what’s fair,” Jamie argued, a little heated under his non-existent collar. He didn’t need the other players talking to the coach for him, even a good friend like Payton. Jamie was a full grown man, not some lost puppy. “I do it out of respect for my teammates; you included.”

  “What about respect for you, though? Making you wait is bullshit, just because pansies like Peterson are uncertain about their own sexuality. I told Coach that shit wouldn’t fly next season if he wants me back on the team.”

  Jamie’s face paled. “You... You what? Payton, you can’t risk your scholarship for me or-”

  “Didn’t do it for you. Okay, so maybe partially for you. But, I did it for me, too. No way in Hell am I gonna wait at the back of the fucking bus to take a shower after one of Coach’s death-march practices.”

  Jamie blinked then slowly raised his eyes up to Payton. “Why would you have to wait?”

  Payton swept a hand through his wet brown hair, his lips twitching into a tiny smirk. “I, uh, sorta came out to Coach yesterday.”

  Jamie’s mouth fell open, all coherent thought derailed. “You... But... What?”

  Payton exhaled and leaned against the shower wall. “It took me a long time to come to terms with it. I’ve always liked men, but I always fought it, you know? All through high school, I dated girls because that was what I was supposed to do. Then, I transfer to Oklahoma State, and there you are – out of the closet and playing football. It threw my whole perspective for a loop.”

  Standing there naked with a shampoo bottle lamely held in front of his junk, Jamie’s world spun. The guy he’d been attracted to all season – this huge, tight end with a really nice tight end – was gay? “No fucking way...”

  Payton’s deep laugh echoed through the shower room. “That was Coach’s first thought, too, I think; judging by the look on his face. I figured, heck, I’m turning twenty-one and only got one season left, so why not own up to it?”

  “Have you told the others?”

  “Not everyone,” he shrugged. “Not sure it’s any of their business. I don’t ask Peterson which sorority girl he’s banging this week, so why should it be anyone’s business who I’m dating?”

  Jamie winced, part of him wanting to agree so badly. “It’s not the same.”

  “It is, and you know it.” Payton took a step out of the stall. “Look, I get it. You took that first step for guys like us, so maybe you had to give in to some stupid ideals and rules. But, I’m tired of trying to squeeze myself into a closet, and I’ve decided that I’m done being anything but who I am. And, if I wanna ask a guy out, I ain’t gonna get Coach to sign off on it or put up a damn notice on the team board.”

  “It could cause issues.”

  “It could. But, I’m okay with that. So, starting next practice, you and I are taking showers with everyone else. Well,” he smirked. “Unless you’d like to take showers with just me?”

  Jamie coughed. Was the man making a pass? “Uh...” Shit. He’d lost his ability to think again.

  “Er, sorry,” Payton took a step back. “I haven’t gotten the hang of this whole flirting with a hot guy thing, yet.”

  Payton thought he was hot? Shit. Yeah, Jamie’s dick swelled with pride, and there was no towel within reach to hide it. “I should go... grab a shower...” ...and deal with my throbbing dick...

  “Wow.” Payton cleared his throat. “Not how I pictured this going, but I’ve obviously screwed up.”

  Jamie’s eyebrow stuttered. “Pictured what going?”

  Payton rubbed a hand down his face then dropped it to his side, revealing a boyish grin and a blush that had Jamie’s heart racing. “I had this whole thing, even what I was gonna say, planned out in my head.”

  A red flag raised to tamper down on Jamie’s arousal. “Planned?”

  “Yeah. I’d lag behind, make some dumb excuse about the hot water, then I’d come out to you. We’d talk about it and then, maybe... You’d...”

  Jamie could tell Payton was stumbling. The problem was, Payton was stumbling over all the wrong words. “Maybe I’d what? Become your first gay fuck? Is this some kind of joke? Did Peterson put you up to this as some sort of birthday-bash prank?”

  “What? Peterson-”

  “Peterson is about as creative as they get,” Jamie muttered. “He pulled this same shit last year as a bet with Vickers. Have a laugh! Trick the gay quarterback into coming on to a player and get his queer ass kicked off the team!”

  “Dammit, no man,” Payton’s expression grew heated to match Jamie’s ranting. “Tucker said you liked me, so-”

  “Tucker?” Jamie’s stomach dropped. God. A month ago they’d gotten plastered after their win over the Aggies, and Tucker had asked if Jamie liked anyone. And Jamie, in a moment of vodka-blinded brilliance, had told him everything.

  He had a serious crush on Payton Remy. That first practice together, Jamie had missed more tosses than his whole first season, and Coach had nearly had an aneurism; all because Jamie had been blind-sided by the gorgeous man who joined the team. Fuck. Straight men weren’t supposed to be that beautiful.

  Then, the man had opened his mouth. Payton’s brain was every bit as sexy as the rest of him. Payton admitted to playing football mostly because it was letting him get a degree in history so he could teach. And that, along with every other thing that Jamie learned about Payton over the season, had Jamie’s crush edging into territory he couldn’t step into.

  His heart wasn’t supposed to fall for a teammate. It wasn’t supposed to fall at all, because falling always opened the doorway to getting hurt. And now, here he was, butt-naked and heart-aching because his friend Tucker had helped Payton and Peterson play some stupid jok
e.

  “I think I’ll go grab a shower at the Hall.” Jamie headed for the locker room. “Tell Peterson he’s an asshole even the last gay man on Earth wouldn’t touch.”

  “Dammit, Jamie, wait!”

  The sound of a bottle hitting the tiles clattered through the shower room as Jamie quickened his strides. A thud, a curse then silence. Jamie could only assume Payton figured it was easier to lose the bet than chase some naked faggot across the locker room.

  Faggot. Queer. Ball-tosser. Ha-ha, get it? Ball-tosser.

  So much for making headway with LGBT acceptance in the sports arena. The joke had been on Jamie the entire time.

  Go pro? Ha! He couldn’t even enjoy the best damn game of his university career without someone making a fool out of him.

  Not just someone. Payton was a friend. At least, that’s what Jamie had let himself believe.

  And Tucker? No. No way would Tucker have done it on purpose.

  It must have seemed like the perfect setup to Peterson – Jamie having a huge infatuation with Payton. Maybe that’s why it seemed like Payton had been avoiding him for the past week. Must’ve freaked him out, learning that a gay guy had a crush on him. Jamie had to wonder how much Peterson had bet him. If it was anything like Vickers, it was all for one damn bottle of Crown Royal.

  That’s all Jamie’s dignity was worth, apparently.

  After a rushed job of getting dressed, his shirt now on inside out, he stomped his way to the Headington Hall athletic dorms and straight into the apartment-style room he shared with LeBron, Tucker and Payton- Ah, shit!

  Why did he ever think living in the dorms was a good idea? Because, LeBron and Tucker had begged him last season so they wouldn’t get stuck with some party-freak like Peterson. Then Payton moved in after that soccer player, Falcone, left to play pro in Brazil. Or Spain. Or... Someplace Jamie now wished he was. Fuck!

  Jamie cussed his way past Tucker’s closed door and into the bathroom they shared. The shower he took was hot and searing as he tried to burn away the ache in his chest. He’d never been so humiliated. Putting up with Peterson was nothing compared to how he’d let himself get his hopes, and dick, up about Payton.

 

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