The Quarterback

by Mackenzie Blair

There was a moment of silence that felt a bit too heavy. Matt seemed to sense it and broke it for them, flopping back onto the pillow. “So, tell me about these toys?”

  Trevor laughed, leaning down to suck, then gently bite Matt’s nipple. “Nipple clamps,” he murmured. “Cock rings, butt plugs.” Then he moved lower, shifting his body so that his head was at Matt’s belly, then groin. “Vibrators, anal beads . . .”

  “Fuck, so everything,” Matt’s words ended on a groan as Trevor sucked one of his balls into his mouth. Then he felt Matt lean forward, trying to return the favor. Trevor twisted some more so that Matt could suck Trevor’s balls into his hot mouth.

  And that was how Matt was initiated into the art of sixty-nining.

  An hour later, after getting off again and arguing over the best video games and discussing the upcoming job fair (which freaked them both out), Matt’s alarm on his phone sounded. He looked over at it, sighing. “Your roommate will be back soon.”

  Trevor nodded and slipped on his briefs as Matt started dressing. He opened a window to air the place out even though it was chilly, because the place definitely smelled like sex. And Drew would pick up on that shit.

  “So, see you Thursday?” Trevor asked as he pulled on a pair of sweats.

  “Yeah, definitely,” Matt said, and then he slayed Trevor by leaning in for a good-bye peck. Which was somehow more intimate than anything else they’d done. Except then Trevor realized he’d shared way more with Matt about his family and past romances than he had with almost anyone else. Before he could panic, Matt cursed, distracting him.

  “Oh crap, I have a test Friday morning,” Matt said, but then he waved his hand, brushing it off. “It’s fine, though. I’ll cram studying in before.”

  “You have practice before,” Trevor pointed out.

  “So, I’ll study after.”

  This time Trevor grinned. “Tell me you don’t fall asleep as soon as you get back to your room. I work you pretty hard.” Trevor slapped Matt’s ass.

  “Fuck you,” Matt said, laughing. “But yeah, I guess I am pretty drained afterwards.” Then he waggled his eyebrows. “Literally and figuratively.”

  Trevor groaned at the terrible joke.

  “But I’m not skipping Thursday,” Matt said firmly. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “You know,” Trevor said, looking away, suddenly unsure. “You could come over here, and we could study together on Thursday.”

  “Study? Like, for real?”

  “Sure. And we can make it interesting. For every thirty minutes of work, one of us gets off.”

  “Fuck. Is that how straight people study?” Matt asked as if he’d been missing out this entire time.

  “I don’t think chicks work that way,” Trevor said, shaking his head, smiling that Matt hadn’t outright rejected his offer.

  “Are you sure? Everyone wants to procrastinate.”

  “I’ll ask my friend Emily.” Trevor grabbed his phone.

  “You are not asking her that!” Matt said in horror.

  Trevor raised his eyebrow. “You have no idea what it’s like being friends with a chick once she knows you’re gay, do you? There’s no more pretense. Watch and learn.” Trevor typed away and within seconds, a response ringed back. Trevor laughed.

  “What did she say?” Matt leaned over to look.

  “She said she’s definitely had sex to avoid writing a paper, but not every thirty minutes.” Another incoming text dinged. “And she called me a ‘horny perv.’”

  “So, we win?” Matt replied.

  “We totally win,” Trevor said, leaning over to squeeze Matt’s package.

  Matt groaned. “Stop. I can’t. Not anymore. My dick’s done.”

  “Amateur,” Trevor scoffed. And then a second later, he found himself tackled and pinned by a muscular football god . . . who was yanking down his briefs again.

  “Yeah, you want more?”

  It turned out he did. He really, really did. And Matt was happy to oblige.

  “So, who is he?” Emily asked as they headed out of class.

  “Who’s who?” Trevor asked, genuinely confused.

  “Dude, you have no idea you have a dreamy, well-fucked face on this morning, do you?”

  “I do not,” Trevor snapped back. But he probably did. Even Drew had been looking at him strangely.

  “You do,” she disagreed. “And I’m pretty sure he’s your study buddy based on that text last night.”

  Trevor sighed. He should’ve known he couldn’t keep anything from Emily. “He’s a graduate student actually,” he lied. It just rolled off his tongue. He should probably be worried about how easy it was for him to lie—or else consider a career in espionage.

  “Oh my god, is it one of your TAs?”

  Trevor casually shrugged with a smirk, letting her draw her own conclusions. “No one can know, okay?”

  “Hey, I never told anyone about your sketchy massage parlor job.”

  Trevor nodded and steered them toward the center of campus, wishing she hadn’t just mentioned his former job. Thank god she’d bought the graduate school thing.

  “Oh my god,” she gasped. “Is it that guy you almost gave the deluxe massage to? You were hung up on him, I know it. And you said he went to school here!”

  Trevor practically shoved her off the main pathway into a bush. “Stop talking!” Shit, this girl was way too insightful. Between her psych classes and growing up with a dad who was a police detective, she could piece together clues like none other.

  Her eyes grew wide, but she dutifully nodded. “Okay, sorry, sorry. But is he, like, going to turn you in or something?”

  Trevor shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He’s not out, okay? And I like him. And I don’t want to mess this up.”

  She leaned over and hugged him tight. “You won’t, and I won’t either. I promise. I mean, I understand why he wouldn’t want to be open at this fuck-wad school.” She yanked the school newspaper out of her backpack and waved it in front of him.

  The headline read: Football Players Suspended for Underage Drinking at Male Strip Club.

  “What the hell?” Trevor quickly scanned it, his mind worried Matt was somehow mixed up in it. But no, it appeared to be a bunch of redneck hicks that went to their usual strip club, found out it was ladies night with a local Magic Mike tour, and started a brawl. “Okay, that headline was misleading.”

  “Didn’t matter to the Head of the Athletics Department, Mr. Bigoted Homophobe. He freaked out. Said this was a Christian school and such . . . wait . . .” She scanned the article for the quote. “‘Such sacrilegious filth shall not be tolerated at our fine, upstanding school. The players have been suspended for violating the morality clause of Bodine’s athletes code.’ Can you believe our school even has one of those anymore?”

  “Sadly, yes,” Trevor said as they set off for lunch again. “The fine state of Alabama has no laws prohibiting discrimination against gays either.”

  “At least the Supreme Court stuck it to them.” She high-fived Trevor, who patronizingly reciprocated. Then Emily linked her arm through his, leading him to her dining hall. “Come on, let’s get lunch. It’s on me. You’re looking too thin. Oh, and I signed us up for Trivia Night at Murray’s.”

  Trevor groaned. He hated Trivia Night. The bar would be jam-packed because the winning team won endless tequila shots for the rest of the night. On the other hand, his other option was staying home and getting ahead on some Financial Economics reading and mooning over Matt. Which was pathetic. On both accounts.

  So, at eight that night, Trevor headed into the bar with Emily, Drew, and a few of their friends. They grabbed a table, and Trevor made his way to the bar for the first round. As he squeezed past a crush of sorority girls, his eyes fell on a booth in the far corner. And there was Matt. Looking gorgeous . . .

  With a beautiful blonde girl giggling on his lap, her boob nudging his elbow. Chatting with his friends as if she belonged there.

  Tre
vor felt sucker punched when she slid her hand into Matt’s hair. Ruffling it. Teasing. And Matt just let it happen.

  Fuck. This was why he never dated closeted guys. Never. He never really dated period. Because it hurt too fucking much if you actually started to care. And he was apparently the asshole who cared.

  Matt drained the last of his beer, welcoming the buzz, hoping it would dull the morning’s meeting in the locker room. The strip club bust wasn’t exactly as it read in the school paper.

  No, Dean Warner was actually proud about the brawl part, because it turned out some of the strippers were gay. It wasn’t like they recruited straight men to their team. The audience had been mostly women out for a night of fun. But that didn’t matter to Dean Warner. “I ain’t saying I don’t understand why you wanted to kick their asses,” he’d said to the boys who’d been caught. “But ya’ll shouldn’t have been in a den of sin to begin with! This is a private college built on strong Christian morals. Such transgressions shall not be tolerated. Two-game suspension.”

  The guys had groaned, but everyone had noted that Fischer had been let off the hook. He’d managed to slip past the police when they arrived to break up the riot. Along with two of his buddies who happened to be key to the defense. Matt wondered if the police had purposefully let them go and only busted the second-string players. Maybe the dean or Coach had called in a few favors. God forbid they lose a game.

  Although, if they were willing to go to such extremes, would they tolerate a gay quarterback if it meant winning a national title?

  Matt took another long gulp of his beer. He doubted it. Warner had made his thoughts on homosexuals clear—no tolerance. And even if Coach Boyd managed to overrule him, if his offensive line chose not to protect their quarterback, he could be seriously injured. Hell, Fischer and O’Donnell might even help the other team do it.

  Fuck, he needed more beer. Matt reached for the pitcher and then caught sight of a familiar leather jacket. He looked over and saw Trevor turning away from him. Was he pissed? Shit, he looked pissed.

  But, even in profile, Trevor was hot as hell with his hair tied up in a topknot, a soft blue shirt that clung to his body, and sinfully tight jeans. He had one of his leather cuffs with studs around his wrist. Sexy. So sexy. And pissed. Definitely pissed if the way he clenched his fists and moved through the crowd was anything to go by.

  Matt groaned as realization hit. When the hell had Jocelyn gotten this close, her boob pushing into his arm? Shit, shit. Did Trevor think he was hitting on her? Sleeping with her as a beard? That was fucked up, even for him, but he hadn’t really talked to Trevor about what they were or weren’t . . . or how he handled his secret.

  But it wasn’t like Matt had been aware of Jocelyn’s boob nuzzle. It did so little for him that it had felt the same as any other part of her body. He realized that she was running her hands through his hair. Hadn’t Danielle been the one doing that? It had felt so good and safe—she was with Connor, so it was only friendly and had felt comforting. But Jocelyn had taken over at some point. Okay, clearly he’d had too much beer.

  Matt put his empty glass back down and gently removed Jocelyn’s hand from his hair. “The game’s about to start,” he said, forcing a smile. “Aren’t y’all supposed to be playing with your sorority?”

  Jocelyn pouted, but Danielle nodded and grabbed both their beers. “Come on, Jocelyn, as cochairs of the Social Committee, it is our duty to our sisters!” She said the last with such gusto that everyone laughed.

  Matt followed them out of the booth, calling back to his roommates, “I’ll get us another round.”

  Matt headed for the crowded U-shaped bar, scanning for Trevor. He saw him toward the back, near the restrooms, and edged toward him. He got lucky when the guy next to Trevor moved away, so Matt quickly moved into that spot. His shoulder brushed Trevor’s as he leaned forward. He felt Trevor stiffen.

  But neither of them spoke. Neither of them even looked at each other. It was as if they were strangers.

  Matt felt his heart hammering, scared someone would just look at them and know. He could feel the tension between them. Damn, he had no idea how to handle this. It wasn’t like he’d ever even dated before. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

  So he just stood there dumbly for a long moment. But he needed to man up. So Matt turned to look at Trevor and opened his mouth . . . but absolutely no words came out.

  The bartender saved Matt by stopping in front of them.

  “What can I get you, boys?” she asked, aiming her look at Trevor first.

  “Two rum and Cokes and a Stella,” Trevor said, only making eye contact with her.

  She nodded. “How about you?” she asked Matt as she began making the rum and Cokes.

  “Two pitchers of PBR,” Matt said.

  “You got it. On the same tab?”

  “No,” Trevor said at the same time Matt said, “Yes.”

  Trevor whipped around to look at Matt in shock. They were in public, for god’s sake. But Matt shook off his instinctual panic, holding his ground.

  “Let me buy you a drink,” Matt said quietly, pleading with his eyes. Trevor clenched his jaw, but then finally just nodded.

  The bartender, oblivious to the undercurrents as she finished making Trevor’s drinks, slid them over and took Matt’s credit card. Then she headed off for the pitchers of beer.

  “Thanks,” Trevor said begrudgingly, his gaze now fixed on the wooden bar top as he traced random patterns on it with his thumb.

  “You’re welcome.” Matt shoved his hands into his pockets before he gave in to the urge to grab Trevor’s hand off the bar and hold it. Fuck, he wanted to hold the guy’s hand? He wasn’t just gay, he was now apparently into PDA.

  But Matt hated seeing the tension in Trevor’s face, the way he moved a few inches away so they weren’t touching. Could he really be mad at him? Oh screw it, he might as well ask. “Are you jealous?” Matt whispered.

  He saw Trevor’s shoulders tense. “Fuck you,” he practically growled.

  Matt laughed, and Trevor gave him a death look, as if trying to incinerate him with his glare. That only made Matt smile wider. He even nudged Trevor’s shoulder. “I swear, her boob was just fatty tissue to me. A blob. A meaningless blob of flesh,” Matt defended with solemn puppy-dog eyes.

  Trevor’s eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing. “Don’t tell her that.”

  Matt winced as he imagined Jocelyn’s face. “Yeah, she’d probably kill me. She’s always just kinda around.”

  “Poor Matt, beautiful women molesting him wherever he goes.” Trevor oozed sarcasm.

  “Hey, how would you like it?” Matt countered, swiveling to face Trevor, leaning his side against the bar.

  Trevor considered it and grimaced, nodding in acknowledgment, a small smile forming. “Point taken.” And then Trevor inched closer until his hip nudged Matt’s groin. “Do I just feel like fatty tissue too?” he quietly asked.

  Trevor brushed his hip against Matt’s junk, and Matt stifled a groan, feeling the blood flow to his dick. Trevor, obviously sensing Matt’s horniness, was a total shit. He rubbed his hip back and forth, as if rocking to the music, pretending to be completely unaware that his hip was hitting the guy perpendicular to him. His movements caused delicious friction through Matt’s jeans. Yeah, definitely nothing like Jocelyn’s boob.

  “Oh, I feel that. But I’d rather it be your ass,” Matt admitted, leaning in way too close to Trevor.

  “Here you go, boys,” the bartender said, jolting them apart. She placed the pitchers in front of them, along with Matt’s credit card.

  “Thanks,” Matt managed to spit out, and quickly signed his bill as she headed off again. Trevor moved an appropriate distance away so they just looked like two dudes talking, not flirting.

  “I heard the team had a rough day,” Trevor said softly.

  “Yeah, it’s— Well, I’ll be glad when the season’s over.”

  “Really?” Trevor aske
d, surprised. “But you’re really good. They say you might make it to the National Championship this year.”

  Matt smiled, tucking his credit card back into his wallet. “Have you been googling me?” he accused.

  “Have you been googling sex toys?” Trevor countered.

  Matt felt his mouth go dry and his pulse spike at the look in Trevor’s eyes. Fuck, he had. He really had. He’d also googled a lot of gay porn to see them in action.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Trevor smirked. “Game’s starting. Thanks for the drink.”

  Matt nodded, unable to think of a comeback. But Trevor didn’t seem to mind, because as he walked away, he made sure to swing his ass just enough for Matt to notice. Damn, he had it bad.

  Matt couldn’t focus on the trivia game. Couldn’t focus on anything. His eyes kept straying to Trevor and his friends. And the really cute Latino twink who kept clutching Trevor’s arm and laughing up at him. The really cute twink who then leaned over and kissed Trevor’s cheek. The really cute twink who swatted Trevor’s ass when he headed to the bar for another round.

  Oh shit, was this how Trevor felt seeing him with Jocelyn? No, hell no. This was different. Because the twink was a dude. Matt couldn’t take his eyes off them, feeling his stupid jealousy rising more and more.

  By the time the game ended, he needed to bail before he punched the hell out of Trevor’s very special friend. Clearly, the two were fucking each other. Or at least had fucked at some point. And that made him feel things he didn’t really want to name.

  So Matt shrugged on his coat and said his good-byes.

  “Matt, could you walk me home?” Jocelyn asked, standing up with him. “I hate walking alone at night.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” Matt replied. He didn’t really think she should be walking alone either, but he glanced at his friends to see if they might be leaving as well. Nope, Ryan and Damian were scooting out of the booth to play a game of pool, and Connor and Danielle were drunkenly making out.

  “Bye, guys!” Jocelyn said, pulling on her jacket and waving to the gang.

  Matt led her toward the exit and caught sight of Trevor watching them. Trevor raised a pointed eyebrow at the sight of Matt escorting Jocelyn outside.