Uneasy Pieces: The League, Book 4

by Declan Rhodes

  A few short minutes later, I felt a prickly sensation up my spine. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but it signaled to me to be on the lookout for potential trouble. It didn’t take long for me to identify a guy about my age dancing nearby as the source of threatening vibes.

  He was dancing with a woman, but every few seconds he glanced in my direction to look me up and down and then stare at Marshall. I made an effort to move closer to Marshall and then slowly lead our movements in a circle to face away from the man.

  Unfortunately, the stranger followed, and just as I started to move away again, he leaned in close and asked, “Is that your dad dancing with you?”

  I shook my head and moved away. He followed and spoke in a more threatening tone, “I asked you a question.”

  I slipped between two people which put another man between myself and the one making the comments. Marshall followed me and soon I thought we were safe once again from any harassment. Marshall stopped dancing for a moment and wrapped his arms around me. He asked, “What was that about.”

  I shook my head and said, “Nothing. Let it go.”

  The tempo of the music kicked up a notch, and the dancers on the floor all threw their hands in the air. I thought we were out of the woods until I saw the man approaching Marshall from behind. He whispered something, and Marshall instantly grew angry. I watched his hand close into a fist at his side. Lunging forward, I grabbed Marshall’s elbow before he had the chance to throw a punch and pulled him into a dense crowd of dancers. I whispered to him, “Let’s go.”

  Marshall growled, “I’ll stand up to him.”

  With another shake of the head, I said, “No, it’s not worth it.”

  We exited the club, and I said, “Marshall, I’ve got a better idea. It’s a much better idea. There’s a smaller club. It’s not downtown, but the crowd is completely mixed and better yet, they play 80s and 90s music.”

  “Are you okay with that?” asked Marshall. “I really could have leveled him. I don’t tolerate harassing comments very well.”

  I mirrored his steps as we walked down the street and said, “I am. What did he say to you?”

  “He asked if I brought my boy with me. I told him you were my date, and he said, ‘He looks like your boy to me.’ I was ready to deck the asshole.”

  I said, “He would have deserved it, but I’m glad you didn’t.”

  The second option was a much better choice. It was packed with a crowd spilling out the front door. It was a wildly eclectic group across all ages, ethnic groups, and people in leather as well as dressed down in jeans and T-Shirts. Madonna’s “Ray of Light” blasted through the club as we pushed our way into the crowd.

  A smile filled Marshall’s face and we both threw our hands into the air. After twenty minutes of non-stop dancing, we pushed our way through the crowd to the bar for refreshment. We ordered beers this time around and Marshall leaned his back against the bar to survey the crowd once again.

  I watched a huge smile fill his face. He pointed across the room. “Who is it?” I asked.

  He said, “It’s Billy!”

  I followed his pointing and saw Billy, dressed in a leather jacket and leather pants, dancing with a woman with long blond hair and glasses with thick black frames. I asked, “Is that Becca with him?”

  Marshall said, “I guess it is.” He handed the bartender a bill and took the two beers in hand passing one off to me. Marshall added, “I’ve never actually gotten to meet her in person. Let’s go say hello.”

  I saw Billy start to laugh when he spotted us making our way through the crowd. He pointed at Marshall and then whispered to the woman. She smiled and waited for us to arrive.

  As we stepped up to the pair, Billy said, “Uh oh. You discovered my hideout. It’s not my secret anymore.”

  Marshall said, “You can run, but you can’t hide, Billy. Who is this lovely woman with you?”

  He gestured toward her and said, “This is the famous Becca. You’ve really never met?”

  Both Marshall and I shook our heads no. She reached out a hand to shake and Marshall said, “You must be a saint in the making if you can handle this man.”

  I heard the sound of a New Order song begin, and said to the group, “This is one of my favorites.”

  Billy swept his long black hair back off his shoulders and said, “Let’s get out there and dance then. I think the evening is just beginning.”

  18

  Marshall

  The race for the league championship in softball continued to heat up as the summer wore on. Our loss early in the season began to loom large. Our only serious competitors for the championship lost just one game, too, and we didn’t have a game scheduled with each other until the end of the season.

  Only four games remained overall in the season, and each one became a must win situation. Ian sent out text messages mid-week and asked that we all report at least fifteen minutes before the game. He said it was important, and he got a 100% response from the team.

  We interrupted our warmups and gathered in a huddle at home plate just ten minutes before game time. Reggie led us in cheers about winning the game, and Ian called us out individually asking each of us if we were gonna win. By the time he got to Blake, the last on the list, Blake barked out, “We’re gonna win!”

  Ian asked, “Why are we gonna win?”

  Blake shouted, “Because we’re the best!”

  “Who’s the best?” asked Ian.

  “We’re the best!” shouted Blake

  Then Blake waved his arms at his sides to include the rest of us as Ian asked one more time, “Who’s the best?”

  The entire team shouted, “We’re the best!”

  Reggie shouted, “Now get out there and win!”

  It was a close game. Each team scored two runs in the first inning and then the next four innings zipped past with no one making it past second base for either team.

  In the top of the sixth, Ian kicked at the dirt when one of the opposing players connected with his pitch well enough to bloop the ball into left field just over Blake’s head and too far in front of me to have a prayer of catching it.

  I raced to the ball and relayed it into Antonio to keep the runner at first, but I could see the tension in my teammates’ faces. It was getting late in the game, and there was a good chance this one could be decided by just one run.

  The runner advanced to third base on ground balls by each of the next two batters. The batters were thrown out at first base, but the runner ended up standing on third base with two outs.

  Blake shouted, “Get the batter! Don’t worry about this guy!”

  We all knew that if the batter hit the ball, the man on third would break immediately for home plate. Other than in the unlikely case of a bunted ball, that didn’t matter. Getting the batter out would shut the team down and prevent a go-ahead run.

  I moved forward five steps closer to home plate and nervously shifted from side to side. Glancing around the field I saw that all of my teammates’ eyes were focused resolutely on home plate.

  Ian managed to throw the first pitch right past the batter, and the umpire called a strike. I breathed a sigh of relief. We were one strike closer to the third out.

  Unfortunately, then the unbelievable occurred. A line drive flew off the bat directly at Billy. A smile filled my face as the ball slammed into the webbing of Billy’s glove. I started to jog toward the dugout when I heard a loud groan from the spectators behind home plate. I turned my head, and saw the ball lying on the ground at Billy’s feet. He picked it up and tried to fire it to first base, but it was too late. The runner was safe at first base, and the opposing team was a run ahead.

  We were demoralized when we headed to the dugout, but it only took one player to bring us back up again. Lowell was standing on second base with two outs and Antonio was due at bat. Ian sent Blake out of the dugout to talk to Antonio.

  I could see Antonio’s knees shaking from where I sat. I gripped Billy’s shoulder and
said, “I can’t watch.”

  He growled, “You have to watch. Antonio’s going to get me off the hook.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “I just know these things,” said Billy.

  Blake pulled Antonio aside for a few moments. I watched as Blake took a fake swing and then said something else. Antonio nodded and a big toothy grin appeared on his face. He strutted with confidence as he made his way to home plate.

  One pitch later the ball was flying over the fence in right field. Antonio took a slow jog around the bases while our team screamed with delight in the dugout. As Antonio jumped on home plate, he turned his back to the field, licked his finger and then placed it on his round ass whispering, “Ssss.”

  The home run scored both Antonio and Lowell, and we took the lead. In the final inning no one scored, and the Soft Serves squeaked through to yet another win.

  Joining Jordan after the game, I said, “We have to celebrate with the team at the Toolbox. This was such a big win. Is that okay?”

  Jordan laughed and said, “It was an awesome game. I’m pumped. Yes, let’s go. I’ve already sent Shane and Joey on their way. They completely understand. They were both grumbling about not being old enough to go to the Toolbox.”

  Claw served as bartender, and the Toolbox owner Sally pitched in to help out. She said she knew that it was a game day, but Claw’s regular help called in sick. Blake offered to step behind the bar, but Sally shook him off. She said, “Get out there and celebrate with your team!”

  With beer in hand and the opposite arm around Jordan, I scanned the wall-to-wall crowd. Jordan followed my gaze and asked, “Who’s the tall blonde guy up against the wall? He’s looking really chummy with Lowell.”

  I said, “Oh, that’s Sven! You haven’t met Sven yet, have you? He’s Lowell’s boyfriend. He’s the one I said had to go help take care of his parents, so he’s out on the season. I guess he was able to come to Milwaukee for the weekend.”

  Jordan raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is he really named Sven? As in the Norwegian name? Or is that just a nickname?”

  I laughed and said, “He’s a real, in-the-flesh Sven. And yes, he’s a real Norwegian, too.”

  We slowly pushed our way through the crowd, and Lowell and Sven each offered me big hugs in turn. I said, “Sven, I have someone for you to meet.” He turned to me and I said, “This is my boyfriend, Jordan.”

  “Boyfriend?” asked Sven.

  I said, “Yep, it’s been something like two months now.”

  Then I steeled myself for the possibility of a comment about our ages, but instead, Sven was his always polite and friendly self saying, “Well, it’s about time you found a good guy, Marshall. You’re far too handsome and far too nice of a guy to be alone.” Then he leaned toward Jordan and whispered in his ear. I couldn’t hear what was said, but Jordan nodded in agreement and smiled.

  Antonio was the hero of the game and he was surrounded by a dense crowd of well-wishers. I spotted his husband Lex standing quietly at his side. Placing my hand on Jordan’s shoulder, I said, “There’s someone else for you to meet.”

  He said, “That’s great as long as there isn’t a quiz about names afterwards.”

  I said to Sven and Lowell, “We’ll catch you later, but I think Jordan needs to meet Lex.”

  Making our way to Antonio and Lex was even tougher than crossing through the crowd to Sven and Lowell. I could hear Antonio’s distinctive voice above the din. He was saying, “And then Blake, the total sweetheart, told me to swing like that ball was the head of the most evil person on earth. I think we all know who that is.” Everyone around laughed and Antonio threw his arms into the air.

  Finally, we closed in on Antonio and Lex. I wrapped Antonio up in my arms and whispered to him, “I want Jordan to meet Lex.”

  Antonio squealed, “Oh definitely! Jordan is so adorable. You lucky little bastard, Marshall.”

  I laughed and said, “I hope he’s a lucky one, too.”

  Antonio said, “Of course he is. You know we’ve all wanted you. Lex made me take down the poster of you on my closet door.”

  Someone else drew Antonio’s attention with congratulations, so I stepped to the side. Lex was standing calm and quietly at Antonio’s side like most of the times I’d seen him. He held a drink in one hand, and I reached out for the other to shake. I said, “Lex, I would like you to meet my boyfriend, Jordan.”

  Jordan reached out his hand as I said, “Jordan, this is Antonio’s long-suffering husband, Lex.”

  Lex chuckled softly and said, “He’s a lot easier than he looks.”

  I asked, “You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

  Lex shook his head. “I can assure you that I’m not just saying that.” Then he turned toward Jordan and said, “Welcome to the crowd, Jordan. Marshall can use someone to take good care of him. I’m so happy to see he’s reeled in someone so handsome.”

  Jordan blushed and meekly responded, “Thank you.”

  We spent another hour at the Toolbox sharing drinks with our friends and then dancing when Blake convinced Sally to crank up the music. Finally, when the crowd began to thin noticeably, we made our way to my car. I said, “We’ve got to drive back out to the field so you can get your car.”

  “Then do you want me to follow you home?” asked Jordan.

  I said, “That would be great if you want to.”

  “I think the celebration should continue in private.”

  I said, “That sounds good to me.” While I navigated the streets across the south side of the city, I asked, “What did you think about Sven and Lex? Did you enjoy meeting them.”

  “I didn’t get to talk to either long enough to make a real call, but they seem like very nice guys. Lex is the complete opposite of Antonio, but I’m guessing that might be just what Antonio needs to keep him anchored to the ground.”

  Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I said, “I think you hit the nail on the head. The first time I met Lex, he wore a sport jacket to a softball game. I asked Antonio if Lex worked the weekends and had just come from work. Antonio looked at me and said, ’No, of course not. He always dresses like that.’ Antonio drew out the always as an extra long word, and then he said, ‘Doesn’t he look so handsome. I just wanna eat him up.’ I smiled at Antonio and said, ‘And I bet you do.’”

  Jordan laughed and asked, “What did Antonio say to that.”

  “He laughed loud and slapped me on the back saying, ‘You’re so nasty, Marshall.’”

  Jordan reached out for my thigh and said, “There are so many great couples connected with the team. Do you think we’ll soon be one of those?”

  I said, “I don’t really see why not. I’m in this for the long haul. Are you, Jordan?”

  He laughed and said, “I’m addicted to you. I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to.”

  19

  Jordan

  Before I met Marshall, early mornings were my least favorite time of the day. I would always sleep through them if at all possible. Otherwise, I was just stumbling to the coffee maker to try and get that first caffeinated cup into my system.

  Marshall is a morning person. He likes to sleep in when possible, but if he has to get up for something, he is wide awake within minutes. He even does pushups before going downstairs for coffee.

  I carved out my new favorite time of the morning even earlier than the time for the pushups. I enjoyed it whenever I woke up early enough which turned out to be about half of the time.

  Marshall slept on his back a lot. We usually drifted off to sleep spooned up close in each other’s arms, but, by morning, he was lying flat on his back making light little snoring sounds. His thick cock often tented the sheets as well.

  He was a heavy sleeper, and didn’t wake up easily. Morning sunlight and the sounds of the street didn’t seem to bother him at all. That’s why I had the perfect opportunity to enjoy the early morning my way.

  I very slowly and carefully slid the s
heet down until it was at mid-thigh. Of course that allowed Marshall’s cock to poke out and lie partially erect pointing upwards toward his muscular abs.

  Seeing it never failed to make my mouth water and my own cock come to full attention. I started by wrapping my long, thin fingers around the base of his cock and then planted light, fluttery kisses near his belly button. The usual response was something like an, “Mmmm” sound and Marshall pulled his arms up to put his hands under the pillow behind his head.

  My stroking very slowly picked up speed while my kisses swept downward until they reached Marshall’s balls. I slowly lapped at the rough sac until I heard another deep, pleasurable mix of a growl and a moan.

  He was mine. I parted my lips and slipped my mouth over the head of Marshall’s cock. My free hand reached upward to the closest nipple and rubbed until it grew firm beneath my fingers. By then, the slurpy, sucking sounds and combination of pinching and rubbing of the nip was too much for Marshall to keep sleeping.

  Then he was awake. “Ohhh Jordan, you drive me nuts.” Marshall reached down and cupped the back of my head with his big hand helping me bob up and down on that amazing cock.

  We followed the same pattern over and over sometimes three days a week, and it never got old. Minutes later we were in the shower together, and I was sliding down to my knees to finish what I started in the bedroom. Marshall was a magnificent sight leaning his back against the wall of the shower, the spray hitting his chest and me sucking that cock with my fingers wrapped around the base expertly stroking ever faster to coax that big load out.

  Just before cumming, Marshall pushed his arms up over his head, his abs tightened and a low-pitched rumble erupted from deep in his throat. I knew he was close. I stopped for a few seconds feeling the warm water raining over me until I heard the words, “Fuck, please, Jordan!” Then I started the sucking and stroking again at an even more feverish pace.

  It never failed. Marshall howled and erupted deep in my throat. He pulled his arms down and slammed the palms of his hands against the shower wall before placing them on my shoulders to steady himself and keep his balance.