by Shane Morton
Getting Lucky in Kentucky
Bluegrass Boys #1
Shane K. Morton
Contents
1. Calvin
2. Mason
3. Calvin
4. Mason
5. Calvin
6. Mason
7. Calvin
8. Mason
9. Calvin
10. Mason
11. Calvin
12. Mason
13. Calvin
14. Mason
15. Calvin
16. Mason
17. Calvin
18. Mason
Read More By Shane Morton
About Shane K Morton
Copyright © 2020 by Shane K Morton
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the brief quotations in a book review.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover art © 2020 by Winterheart Design, winterheart.com
Created with Vellum
One
Calvin
There’s nothing like a football game on a chilly October night. My friends and I come to every game, even though our college never has the best record in the conference. Moray State University still knows how to have fun at a game. Our mascot and cheerleaders put on a show, and our players do their best, and sometimes we even win. Tonight doesn’t look like luck is on our side.
The boys are playing hard, I mean, they are really giving it the ole college try, but they are still fourteen points behind. The quarterback has made some stupid plays, and it looks like he’s just trying to get to the end of the game without letting them score any more points. It’s like a bloodbath out there. For some reason, the moron doesn’t run the ball very well. He was supposed to be our saving grace. He was some phenom from State that was going to put us in contention for the playoffs. He has not succeeded.
Moray has been my college team since birth. I was born and raised in this town and attended Moray High School, where I graduated with honors. I thought I would be able to slide into a free ride here at the college. However, that wasn’t the case. I was devastated to learn that only part of my tuition would be paid with a scholarship, so I got a job on campus with the work-study program. After a horrible semester at working in the cafeteria, I was offered a job at the campus tutoring center. I’ve worked here for the last four semesters, and now I am one of the busiest of the employees.
I’m lucky. I don’t mind having to work to pay my tuition, but the job definitely makes it harder for me to find the time for my own classes sometimes. This semester has been grinding so far. I am only taking fourteen credits, so I have the time to help everyone else with their classes. Last spring, I over-extended myself and got really close to fucking up my GPA. Sure, it would have been a B, but I have never received a B in my life. I made sure that wouldn’t happen this year.
“What the fuck is up with Hawkins?” Chad, one of my best friends since third grade, asks as he sits back down beside me. “He can’t run a play for shit. His daddy must donate big-time to keep his ass on the team. How the hell are we gonna win if our quarterback is a fuckin’ moron?”
One of the church ladies behind us scoffs, and Chad turns around and gives her a big smile.
“He was an all-state finalist in high school. But he hasn’t shown it since he came here. His mother is on the Board of Regents, so he came in as the second string and was starting his sophomore year. That’s how he’s not been benched yet. Seems a shame cause this is one of the best defensive lines we’ve had in years,” Mike answered, annoyed at the situation the school found itself in. The three of us have been tight for a long time.
“Just the way it is, fellas. Always has been and always will be. The ones with the money have all the power, and the ones who deserve the rewards sit on the sideline.” I shrugged, used to the way Moray worked. It had been like that in our high school too. Pissed me off a lot more then. Now, I had just come accustomed to my shitty luck of being born poor.
“Preach. I like that you come here to the games with us, Calvin. Hey, Mike? Remember when Calvin used to complain about us making him come to the games when we were in high school?” Chad slapped me on the back hard enough to make me spill a splash of beer from my red cup.
“I didn’t complain… exactly. You shits made me go to the high school games and the college ones whenever we could. It just ate up a lot of time that we could have used doing something else. I like football,” I whined.
“You like the boys in the tight pants,” Mike snickered.
I glared over at him. “Well, it doesn’t hurt. They should pull Hawkins out and put in their backup QB. He, at least, can throw the ball. Hawkins looks like he wants to make all the touchdowns himself.” I deflected. It was true…I enjoyed football a lot more once I admitted to myself that I was gay. I stopped caring about the game so much and started enjoying the scenery a lot more.
“You just think he’s hot. Trust me, we all know.” Chad stood up on top of the bench. “Mason McKendrick is soooo fucking hot!” Chad bellowed. A few of the fans around us snickered while a few others shot us dirty looks.
“Can you stop the cursing, young man?” one of the church ladies hissed.
Chad took off his ballcap and held it over his heart as he turned around to them. “I’m really fucking sorry, ladies,” he said thoughtfully. Chad excelled at sarcasm.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, laughing at his stupidity. “Shut up, Chad. Besides, everyone here agrees with me.”
“Yeah, yeah… whatever. Pretty boy never gets to play very much, anyway. Hawkins gets us into a shit deficit, and then McKendrick doesn’t have a chance IF he gets to even play. He’s a cock knock anyway. Regina over at the diner said he rarely tips and hits on any of the girls sitting alone, so I guess you’ll never get your chance anyway.” Chad laughed as he threw back the rest of his beer. “Damn, this shit is just pathetic tonight. Maybe we should just get out of here and head over to the tailgate party at the Omega’s house. If I stay here, I’m gonna start to cry in my beer.”
“Wait,” Mike said suddenly. “Look. It’s your lucky night Calvin. They finally pulled Hawkins out, and it looks like your boy is going in.”
I squinted at the field, looking to see if it was true. Sure enough, number 32 ran out onto the field, holding his helmet in his hands as his tight ass teased me as he headed to the huddle. His shaggy brown hair disappearing as he slid the helmet over his head.
The announcer made the substitution. “Mason McKendrick is coming in for Bobby Hawkins with ten minutes left in the last quarter.”
He was the stuff of fantasy. We had a class together my freshman year. He sat one row to the right and two seats ahead of me. I would get lost in class as I studied the back of his neck and the shoulders and biceps that had caused me to have many restless nights. I was so in lust with him; it hurt to sit there and try to focus in class. He would walk in, and I would instantly feel my dick hardening in my pants. I was usually the last to leave when class ended. It would have been hard to explain my hardness at the time.
I had seen him on campus after that, of course. He prowled when he walked. His muscles always threatening to rip through any shirt he wore and that ass…Damn. It was still a bright spot to my day when I spotted him on campus. Of course, I never spoke to him. Why would he want to talk to someone like me? Not that it would have done
a damn bit of good. He was straight. They were always straight here at Moray State. Well, at least the guys I was interested in.
They broke from their huddle and got set to run their play. His deep voice boomed as the ball flew back to him. He feigned right and then spun around one of the other players and went left. He shifted his feet and let the ball fly. It spiraled through the evening sky, the lights catching the skin as it arced over the heads of the players and landed in the arms of one of our running backs.
He made it about another five feet before someone tackled the shit out of him. He held onto the ball, and the crowd cheered. One of the other players, one of Chad’s favorites, came by and slapped him on the ass. Fuck… I wish that would have been my hand that felt his perfect round cheeks. He had a bubble butt that I knew was pure muscle. It really filled his jeans nicely as did the bulge in front.
Mason McKendrick was going to be in my dreams tonight. His piercing blue eyes and dark shaggy hair that he usually kept under an MSU cap was going to haunt me. It was his lips that made me tremble, though. They were full and pouty as if he were always getting ready to say something. I wanted to see how soft they were, but that was not in my future.
He was pretty to look at. Hell, half the team was pretty to look at, but he only had another eight minutes on the field before the game ended. He made the most of it. After a couple more passes, he had the ball close to our endzone. They huddled up, and I laughed as he bent over. I had perfect seats, maybe the best seats we had ever gotten. He bent over in my direction. Chad slapped me on the back.
“He’s ready for you, stud. Look at that ass!” he screamed in a high-pitched voice.
I heard the church ladies behind us tutting to each other. I grinned over at him. “You are a total asshat, you know that?”
“Proud to be of service!” he answered snidely. He was slurring. It was going to be a long night.
They broke from their huddle, and Mason’s voice rang out clear as the ball was sent in his direction. He moved back as the other team’s defensive line slammed into ours. He shuffled over to the right and fired the ball like a missile. Number 12, Andre Stevens, grasped at it with his fingertips and fell into the endzone.
“TOUCHDOWN BITCHES,” Chad bellowed as he jumped up, beer splashing from his red cup all over the bleachers. “TOUCHDOWN! Look at what you boy did?” Chad turned around and grasped me by the face, kissing me hard on the lips. “Touchdown, baby!”
Chad is not gay, not even that one time at camp if you know what I mean. He is a red-blooded, southern, country boy who likes to drink and cuss and watch sports with all of his free time. However, he loves to fuck people up. I’ve gotten used to it. He has roared like a lion in my defense many times over the years. He and Mike both have. I’ve been lucky with my choice of friends.
The rest of the game flew by in a blur. We missed the field goal, which always pisses mike off. He was the kicker at the high school and hates the guy we currently have on the team. He does miss a lot of the time, it seems.
But even with Mason’s touchdown throw, it wasn’t enough. We lost twenty-one to fourteen, and by the time we left the stands, we were feeling no pain. Chad especially. He must have thrown back two beers for every one that Mike and I had. Chad liked to party hard. All of us townies did.
We drove over in Mike’s pickup to the Omega house, where the boys were already in hard party mode. Chad was a brother in the fraternity, but Mike and I had decided that Greek life wasn’t for us. Honestly, we were both paying our way through college, and the frat dues were expensive. Chad came from a family that had enough money to help him. They owned a popular greasy spoon diner in town, which was great because we always ate there for free.
We probably should have stopped by and grabbed something before the party. All we ate were some stadium dogs, a bag of Doritos, and a shit ton of beer. We usually ate a ton before we went out on a binge night. We had discovered it lowered our chances of getting sick. I had grown tired of worshiping the porcelain god when I was a freshman. Chad, though, was our wild card. He had a beer before he attended his first class.
We played a couple rounds of beer pong with some of his brothers. They were cool guys, and both Mike and I spent a lot of time over at the house. As I carefully aimed my ping pong ball at a red cup setting in the back row, I heard a commotion.
My ball flew wide, and I turned to see what the hell made me miss. My jaw hit the floor.
The brothers were cheering and slapping some guys on the back as they entered the house. The football team had arrived. I picked up my beer and downed it, staring at the muscle smorgasbord that was walking through the door. I saw his shaggy brown hair before he entered.
Shit. Mason fucking McKendrick just walked in, and I would swear he glanced over at me.
Chad shot me a quick glance and laughed loudly. “Tonight is the night you talk to that son of a bitch.” He stuck his finger in my chest hard.
I swallowed hard. Why the fuck not?
Two
Mason
After a shit game like that one, the boys wanted to burn off some steam, and I couldn’t blame them. Hawkins especially was wound up. It’s not often that a freshman comes in as the starting quarterback for a college team, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Hell, maybe it was, I don’t know, don’t really care.
I came to college on top of the world. I was a star back home in my little town. Everybody expected great things from me when I graduated. I accepted the scholarship to Moray State with a full ride and was the second-string Quarterback my freshman year. I was excited, that usually meant I would move up, and this should have been my year. But the kid with the golden arm, Hawkins, came. He can throw that I’ll give him, but he wasn’t ready to lead the team. He was a lot like me. A big fish in a very small pond, and when you’re thrown into a large lake with a bunch of other big fish, well, you discover you’re just like everybody else. There’s nothing special about you at all.
It’s humbling.
College was a wake-up call for me. I was no longer the best person on the team, and I struggled with the classes. Somehow, I slid by, and as long as I didn’t fail anything, my scholarship was safe.
The coach asked me to look after and mentor, Hawkins. In a year or two, he would be better than I ever was. He had all the makings of a good leader, and with a little guidance, he might even have a chance to go pro. Probably not… But more of a chance than I ever stood.
My pride got hurt at first. But after a couple weeks, the kid grew on me. Sure, he got the position because of who his mother was, but I stopped holding it against him. It wasn’t his fault, and he realized quickly he was in over his head. He’s become something of a little brother to me, even if he is a little too much to handle sometimes. He is a total hot-head and has started partying a little too hard between games.
We’re working on it.
One of the boys heard about the Omega party, and we decided to crash it. That’s one of the perks of being a jock at this college. Our football and baseball teams are lauded in this town like we are stars. The basketball team even more so, they actually make it to the big tournaments, something the football team hasn’t accomplished in quite some time. Kentucky loves its sports, and us players reap the rewards.
In two years, that will all change. I have no idea what the fuck I’m gonna do with my life when I graduate. I’m getting a degree in physical education. What the hell do I do with that? Coach a high school team? I guess that’s a possibility.
I need to figure this out eventually, but I have a couple more years to decide. I’ve never been one to worry about this shit. What will happen will happen. I really don’t worry much about it, to be honest. I’m much more interested in the here and now.
We descend on the party like a herd of elephants. We didn’t all come, of course, but there are still about twenty massive men all trying to walk through the door. The Omegas all clap as we start to enter and pat us on the back. The frats have always been good suppo
rters of the athletic program. We have an open invite to any of the parties, and the Omega’s always throw a big one. People fill the house and, during nice weather, spill out into the large backyard and patio. Tonight is one of those nights.
I catch the eye of a boy in the back. He seems a little star-struck by our entrance. He must be a fan. He’s tall and lean and quite handsome. I notice these things.
I noticed them a lot more when I came to college. In high school, I had to beat the girls off with a stick. I always dated a cheerleader and looked like I was having the time of my life. Well, I guess I was, in most ways. But I never found a girl that made me fall in love. I noticed the boys. I mean, I showered with most of them in gym class and after games. I noticed, but I tried really hard not to.
Then I came here. Moray is extremely liberal, unlike my small town further to the east. Here, I felt more like myself than I ever had before, and that meant I noticed the boys. I tried to date a girl my freshman year, but after a couple months, I realized that wasn’t what I wanted. The problem was, I didn’t really know how to get what I wanted.
Yeah, I was still in the closet, as my friend Gwen liked to joke with me. She had a ton of gay friends on campus, but she had kept my secret, as I had asked her. I wasn’t quite ready yet. I needed a reason.
Also, being a jock… Well, there weren’t any gay guys on the football team that I knew about. I had always had my suspicions about our kicker, Doughty, but that’s all they were, and I was definitely not interested in him.
