by Leigh Carman
Van slides a finger into his mouth along with my dick, coating it in saliva. He removes it, then reaches behind me, searching for the opening between my cheeks. When he circles the small hole, all while still sucking enthusiastically on my cock, familiar sparks begin to gather and my balls pull tight.
“Close,” I pant, grinding my teeth together in an attempt to stave off my orgasm. But my words only serve to drive Van to double his efforts. I hold his head still and thrust deep into his mouth, the head of my cock bumping the back of his throat each time. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” I pull back and thrust in again, only this time, Van slips a finger inside my ass and he swallows, constricting his throat around the sensitive head. “Fuuuuck!” I shout, unable to hold back. Pleasure explodes in my groin, shooting out of my cock to force my release down Van’s throat. He swallows pulse after pulse, not stopping until I’m barely able to stay on my feet.
Van releases my spent cock, rising to his feet. He grabs my face and devours my mouth, thrusting his tongue deep inside so I can taste myself in his kiss. He backs me up until I feel the mattress behind me. I fall to the bed and watch as Van quickly sheds his own pants until he’s gloriously naked in front of me, tan and muscled and so fucking perfect.
Van grabs lube and a condom from the nightstand and tears the packet open, then rolls the latex over his impressive cock. He climbs on the bed, kneeling between my thighs as he drips lube on his fingers. “You’re mine, Toby,” he says as he leans over to kiss me.
“Yours,” I murmur. Van’s slick finger breaches my hole, and I groan. “More. Hurry.” Already, my dick is coming back to life, swelling between us. Van adds another finger, stretching me, prepping me to accept him into my body. All the while, he’s hovering over me, staring into my eyes with an awed expression on his face. He adds a third and presses his fingers down on my prostate. My spine arches and my eyes roll back. “Now!”
Van lubes the condom and presses his cock at my entrance. He takes my hands and threads our fingers together above my head as he slowly enters my body. Eyes locked, face to face, I watch his expression change from love to pleasure to raw need. Once he’s fully seated, balls against the back of my thighs, Van lowers his head to kiss me again. This time it’s less desperate and more passionate, more loving.
Sweat drips from Van’s skin onto mine as he moves inside me, never letting go of my hands or looking anywhere but into my eyes. This, this is making love. The sheer power of it, the connection of two bodies and two souls, causes moisture to well up in my eyes.
“Baby,” Van whispers, kissing away the tear that escapes. “I never want to be without you.” I can’t speak, my voice lost to the moment. “Never thought I’d have someone like you.”
His hips speed up, each thrust becoming more powerful, stabbing my prostate every time his cock plunges deep. Between that, the friction of his rippling abs on my own hard shaft, and the passionate way Van is claiming me, loving me, the beginning of another orgasm grows quickly.
“Oh fuck, baby.” Van drops his head and lifts his body, looking down at where his cock disappears into my hole. “God, I can’t….” He releases my hands to kneel. Van digs his fingers into my hips and lets loose, growling and cursing as he slams into me hard and fast. Both of us are slick with sweat, his flushed skin glistening in the low light.
When Van wraps a calloused hand around my dick and fists it up and down while pistoning into me, the sensation overload shatters me into a thousand pieces. My entire body tenses, quivering as my vision goes dark, and I fly apart at the seams. Van’s hips stutter, and he roars as he plunges in deep, shouting my name as he fills the condom with his own release.
Van’s huge body collapses on top of me, heavy and hot, but I couldn’t care less. His weight is comforting, not painful. A reminder of his strength, his ability to protect me so viciously, yet with me, he controls and focuses that power to be one of the most tender, kind men I’ve ever known.
“I love you,” I whisper into his damp hair.
Van lifts his head, those intense green eyes meeting mine. “Always, Toby.”
Always. Sounds pretty damn good to me.
Van
“HOW DO I look?” I turn to Toby and Leo as I step out of the SUV at the Wild Cats stadium complex.
Toby rakes his gaze up and down my body, sending a prickle of heat up the back of my neck. “Hot,” he says, his eyes sparkling.
“Honey, I told you you’d look gorgeous.” Leo steps forward and brushes invisible lint off my jacket, buttoning it closed with nimble fingers. “I’m so happy, I can’t believe it,” he murmurs.
Toby hugs his best friend. “I knew you could do it.”
“And now a famous football player is going to wear my design to one of the biggest press conferences in the history of sports,” Leo says. As reality sinks in, his eyes widen and he has to catch his breath.
“Hey.” I put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “It’s going to be great. If you say I look good, I look good. Your suit will be a hit, Leo. It’s me they might hate, not your clothes.”
Leo nods, but Toby frowns. “They’re not really going to hate you. Are they?”
“I have no idea, but I’m not hiding anymore.” I keep speaking before Toby can argue. “Let’s go. I have to meet with Bo and Coach Bannerman before the media get here.”
We enter the offices and training facility attached to the stadium. A man buzzes us in when we reach the doors. “Mr. Archer,” he says, giving me a dip of his chin. “Your friends?”
“They’re on the list, Mike.” The guy checks his computer and hits a few buttons. Less than five minutes later, he’s taken photos of both Leo and Toby and printed laminated badges for each of them.
“Here you are. Mr. Bennett, Mr. Greenway.” Mike hands them their lanyards, the badges hanging on the end. “Wear these at all times.”
“Thanks, Mike.” I shake his hand, but he doesn’t release mine right away. My eyes jump to his.
“Thanks for doing this, Mr. Archer. A lot of us appreciate it,” Mike says. I don’t miss the meaning behind his words. He lets go of my hand, and I suddenly feel overwhelmed. I merely nod and enter the facilities.
“What was that?” Toby asks.
“He thanked me,” I say, stunned.
“Thanked you?” Leo asks. “For what?”
“For coming out. I guess he’s heard what the press conference is about.”
“Wow,” Leo says.
“Yeah, wow,” I agree. The weight of what I’m about to do sinks in. It’s not about Toby or me. It’s about exposing and breaking down the rampant homophobia in sports. Giving a human face to the “disgusting faggot” they think is staring at them in the showers. Showing gay men that they can be themselves and still succeed. I have to make sure I don’t fail at this, not just for Toby, but also for every kid too scared to play sports for fear of being beat up for being gay.
We reach the small room reserved for Bo to meet with us before the press conference. The man is speaking quietly with Coach Bannerman as we enter. He turns and grins when he spots me, reaching to shake my hand and clap me on the back.
“Van, you look great!” Bo says.
“Leo designed the suit,” I say, pointing at Leo, who blinks away his nervousness and steps forward, smiling.
“Hi, Leo Greenway.”
“Bowen Miller.” They shake hands, and Leo moves back next to Toby. “Good job, Mr. Greenway. Van looks sharp.” Leo blushes, and I chuckle to myself.
“This is Toby Bennett, my boyfriend,” I say, linking our hands as I pull Toby forward to meet Bo while Leo and Coach introduce themselves to each other.
“Ah, the boyfriend. So happy to meet you, Mr. Bennett.” Bo shakes Toby’s hand, his smile never waning. Bo’s dark eyes meet mine. “I can see why you decided to do this, Van. He’s quite stunning.”
My mouth drops open at Bo’s assessment. “Wait… you….”
“Yep. I’m gay,” Bo says, winking at Toby. “Just like you’re about to ann
ounce to the sports world.” He shrugs, smirking. “We’re everywhere, right?”
“Right. I don’t know if I want to hug you for your help or punch you for ogling my boyfriend,” I reply. Leo giggles in the background, and Bo simply keeps grinning. “Coach, this is Toby Bennett,” I say when Coach steps over to us.
“Hi, Toby. Nice to meet you. Call me Bobby.”
“Okay, Bobby,” Toby says with a small smile.
“Now,” Bo announces, rubbing his hands together, “let’s review, shall we?”
THE HUM of voices in the room ratchets up my anxiety as I wait in the wings for my turn to speak. Coach Bannerman is out there, deflecting questions as usual, giving little to no information about the nature of the press conference. Why he even opted to speak, I have no idea.
Then I hear the reason.
“I’m here to let everyone know I support my players one hundred percent. The Wild Cats are a family. Untoward behavior is not, and will not, be tolerated. Not toward players, staff, or anyone else in the organization. Now, I can’t speak for the entire NFL, but I have hope we will see the same commitment encouraging respect across the board. Thank you.”
Coach turns his back to the barrage of questions and motions for me to join him. I take a deep breath and glance over my shoulder at Toby, tucked just out of sight in a small hallway on my left side. He smiles and mouths I love you, and just like that, my anxiety is gone. I can do this.
I step in front of the cameras and stand at the microphone-filled podium. Cameras whir and flashes pop as I clear my throat.
“Thanks, Coach.” He pats my arm and stands behind me to the left, visible in my peripheral vision as a reminder I’m not alone.
“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here on a Tuesday afternoon. I’m going to get right to the point, because in my opinion, this shouldn’t require a press conference. In fact, it shouldn’t matter at all. But unfortunately that’s not the world we live in. Not yet, anyway.”
The crowd of reporters is so quiet I can hear Coach breathing nearby.
“If you can let me finish before speaking or asking questions, I would appreciate it. I’m here to tell you that I’m gay.” Murmurs begin, and Coach steps up to the mic.
“Quiet.”
That one word silences the room.
I continue. “My boyfriend was recently attacked and hospitalized, and it brought to light what is important in my life. He is important to me. I can’t and won’t hide him or my sexuality anymore. Football is also important to me, and I’m damn good at it.” A few people in the room chuckle. “Hopefully, this won’t be an issue for anyone, but I’m neither stupid nor naive.” I glance over at Toby to see him clutching Leo’s hand, his expression proud.
“That’s really all I came here to say, so I’ll take just a few questions before I leave.”
Every hand in the room shoots up, the silence broken by dozens of loud voices jockeying to get their question in.
“Greg.” I point at one of the regular reporters.
“Why now?” he asks. “Why not wait until you retire to come out?”
I peek at Toby, who smiles. “Why wait?” I reply. “Why hide? I am who I am, and I’m not ashamed.” My eyes drop to the podium before I look back up. “Actually, that’s not true. I was ashamed until recently. Afraid I would have to choose between my life and my career.” Jerking my thumb over my shoulder at Coach Bannerman. “This guy here let me know I don’t have to make that choice.”
I answer a few more questions before Bo steps up and announces, “One more and we’re done, folks.”
Hands shoot forward, the loud jockeying for position starting up again.
“Maria,” I say, smiling at the lovely dark-haired woman from the NFL network.
She stands up, tucking her long strands behind one ear. “You said your boyfriend was attacked. Is he okay?”
I gape at her, thrown completely off by someone actually giving a shit about Toby instead of asking ignorant questions about homosexuality and the wisdom of coming out in such an unwelcoming sport.
“He’s great, Maria. Thank you for asking.” She gives me a small smile and nods, taking her seat.
Bo takes control of the circus, leaning over the microphones. “Thank you for coming, everyone. All calls can be routed to my office. I’ll make sure you have my contact information,” Bo says. He puts a hand on my back and maneuvers me off the podium and out of sight.
Toby launches himself at me as soon as I reach him. He throws his arms around my neck and buries his face in my chest. I hold him tight, gripping his waist while pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.
“All right, all right, let’s get out of here,” Leo says, breaking the heavy mood.
“I still need Van for a few minutes,” Bo says. He drops his gaze to Toby. “And you too, Toby, if you have time.”
“Me?” Toby squeaks.
Bo grins. “You’re the boyfriend of the first out NFL player. Of course I need to talk to you.”
Toby stiffens in my arms, and I drop my mouth to his ear. “It’ll be okay. I promise. Bo is great.”
“Okay,” he says, reluctance in his voice.
Coach pulls out his phone and taps out a text. A response comes immediately. “Leo,” he says to Toby’s best friend.
Leo whips his head around to face Coach. “Yes?”
“How would you like a tour of the place? Get to see all the secret rooms and VIP suites?” Coach asks.
Leo’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his pretty face. “I’d love that.”
“Great,” Coach says. “My assistant, Reg, will be here in a minute or two. He’s a great guy and a lot of fun. Well….” Coach turns to Toby and me. “I gotta run. I got hours and hours of film to review. It’s getting close to the playoffs, after all.”
“Thanks, Coach.” We all shake hands with the coach, and he leaves.
Soon after, Reg, a tall, slender man who has worked for Coach Bannerman for as long as I’ve been here, arrives to escort Leo around the stadium. As they walk away, Reg chattering about the history of the new stadium and how it came about, Leo turns back to grin at us.
He mouths Oh my God, he’s so hot before following Reg like an enamored puppy.
“So,” Bo says. “Let’s grab something to eat and talk about your future plans and how to deal with this going forward.”
“What do you mean?” Toby asks.
Bo laughs. “This is far from the end of this, Toby. Van will be the only out gay player in the NFL. It’s not going away for a long time. Luckily, my next assignment is also here in LA, so I’ll be around to consult from time to time if you need me. But usually I give you instructions on how to answer questions, deal with interviews and other players… things like that.”
“Who’s your next client?” I ask, curious about Bo’s chosen profession.
Bo unbuttons his suit jacket and drapes it carefully over a chair. “You know who Viktor Novak is?”
Toby shakes his head no.
I know who he is. The guy is infamous for his extreme temper tantrums and violence both on the ice and off. “Yeah. Plays for the LA Vikings, right?”
“Yep, that’s the one,” Bo says with a grin.
“Jesus, you have your work cut out for you with him,” I say with a laugh.
“Why? Who’s that?” Toby asks, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Bo and me.
Bo answers. “Viktor is one of the best players in the NHL. Hockey,” he clarifies when Toby stares at him blankly.
“But the guy is a fucking disaster,” I add. “Always fighting, swearing….”
“He’s an all-around asshole,” Bo finishes for me. “It’s my job to clean up his reputation. The Vikings are ready to… well, that’s all I can say about it.”
I hold up my hands. “Our lips are sealed.”
Bo laughs and picks up the phone to order food to be delivered from the on-site gourmet restaurant. While he orders for us, Toby links his finger
s with mine, his big crystal blue eyes staring up at me.
“Thank you, Van.”
I slide a hand behind his head, gripping his neck to pull him closer. “Thank you, Toby. For giving me another chance. For loving me.” I kiss him gently and watch those beautiful eyes flutter closed.
“I do love you, Van.”
“I love you too, Toby.”
Epilogue
Toby
“MOVE IN with me.”
Van’s words penetrate my dreamy, postsex haze, and I dart upright in bed.
“What?” I ask, staring at him as if he’s lost his mind.
Van turns to lie on his side, bending his elbow to support his head on his hand. “Move in with me. You’re here all the time anyway.” He drags a finger down my stomach, and my abs clench. “I want you with me whenever possible. The season is almost over, so I’ll be here more, and I want to see you every day. I want to wake up with you. Go to bed with you. Make love to you on every surface of the house. You make me so happy, Toby.”
His green eyes meet mine, the gleam in them reflecting a little bit of doubt. For some reason, I find his nervousness adorable.
“I’d love to move in with you, Van.” Grinning, he moves to grab me, but I stop him with a hand to his chest. “But….”
Van frowns at my hesitation and shuffles into a sitting position, leaning on the headboard next to me. “I don’t care, Toby. Whatever it is you think I won’t understand, I will. I love you no matter what.”
The sincerity on his face lets me know Van is telling the truth. I smile and reach out to caress his rough cheek. “I know. I guess I wanted to hear you say it.” With a deep breath, I begin. “You already know about the photos of us. The ones Austin used as blackmail.”
“Yes.”
“You know they still could end up splashed all over the place, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. I just….” I pause to collect my thoughts as my heart pounds. “What I’m saying is, as much as I love you and want everything you’re offering, I don’t want you to resent me someday, for being forced out so publicly, for the attention at being the first out NFL player, for the ton of crap the media is going to say about you.”
