by C. A. Rene
“I heard you played poker with a few of the guys this weekend,” his voice startles me out of my thoughts and I bend forward to touch my toes.
“I watched.” I correct him.
“Don’t play poker?” He turns to look at me and the sun catches his irises, making them look like pots of amber honey.
“Nah,” I quickly look away and swallow, “I didn’t see you there.”
“I was in Rochester to visit family.” He replies as he pulls a foot into his groin for another stretch.
As wary as I am of him, I’m also liking that we can have some sort of small talk; after everything that's happened, maybe this is a sign we can somehow learn to accept each other.
“Your parents?” I ask and he snorts derisively.
“My mother is dead and I never knew my father, he could have been one of many that spent a few minutes between her legs in exchange for crack.”
Wow.
He watches me closely for a reaction and I can’t figure out if it’s true or another Sebastian riddle.
“I went to see my boys,” he explains, switching out his foot for the other, “my real family, the ones who took me in.”
Took him in, sounds like a gang, and again, another puzzle piece falls into place in the makeup that is Sebastian.
“I see.” I murmur.
“What about you, Rookie?” he stops stretching to look at me, “will your family be here tonight?”
I don’t want to tell him that my mother would love nothing more than to come watch me play but she has to work, and she would never leave Danny there alone. I tried to convince her to quit her job but she refuses and then lectures me about things that never last.
“No.”
“You don’t have a family?” he questions, his eyes still on me, watching for any reaction.
“I do.” I huff and lean forward, “they just won’t be here.”
“A’ight,” he chuckles and stands, “I love a good mystery.” Then he jogs off to Jameson and Ortiz who are watching me with confused faces.
Same fuckers, I’m extremely confused as to why the man who raped me is trying to have small talk.
“North!” Coach grabs the carbon steel of my helmet’s face mask and drags me into his face, “I need one more from you, kid. Can you give us one more?”
I can barely see through the sweat that’s dripping off my brow and hitting my cheeks, but I nod because I fucking can. We need one touchdown to bring us ahead by a point to win this game and I will do anything physically possible to bring this home for us.
I look at all our faces, we’re tired, and yet, we’re all still hungry. Zeal throws his arm over my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “One minute, three seconds left.” I give a quick nod at his words, “get to the sweet spot, North, and I promise to find you.” He bounces his helmet off mine and I inhale a large breath. Our team needs this win.
We get into formation and I try to envision the play he’s asked us to do. I can see it, step by step, and it plays in my mind in slow motion. We’ve practiced the hell out of this one and I could do it in my sleep. I stare into the faces of the guys crouching across from me, exhaustion showing clearly, and I know I can take advantage of that. I need that second wind to kick in and I will run laps around these guys. I hear the whistle blow and I take off, twisting out of the reach of one, making a run for where I know Zeal will want me. I skid to a stop and jump out of the way of a defensive end, looking to the sky. I see the ball spinning, the leather reflecting the stadium lights, and reach up, feeling the stretch all the way to my shoulders. I touch the leather, my fingers gripping for purchase, and my heart pounding in my ears.
I fumble the ball and I watch in horror as it bounces, my heart sinking into my stomach. I just fucked this up for us. Avando appears out of nowhere and scoops up the ball, turning to run towards the end zone. I run behind him, his speed a match to my own, and watch as that thick white line grows.
It’s sudden when a large defensemen rams into Sebastian, effectively knocking him to the ground, two yards from the end zone. I dodge out of the way and curse when I not only see but hear the impact of his head and shoulder hitting the ground. My actions are instinctual as I pull the man off him and see Sebastian still has the ball clutched to his chest, but he’s unconscious. I step back as medical runs on the field and the Bills are given a timeout with thirty seconds left in the game.
Avando comes to and he looks around, clearly disoriented. Medical helps him to his feet as players stand around, watching them slowly make their way off the field. I want to follow behind them, the way he hit his head is scary, and I have an overwhelming need to make sure he’s okay. He saved my fumble and it cost him. I know he did it for the team but it also feels like he did it for me, it feels like he took that hit for me.
I don’t realize we have a timeout until Zeal rushes up and shakes me, “North, we need to win this. Are you good?”
My eyes are still trained on the two double doors that Sebastian went through and my mind is no longer focused on this game.
“I don’t know,” I shake my head.
“Two yards,” Zeal squeezes my arm. “Then we can see what’s going on.”
I pull my eyes away from the door and look at him, seeing the desperation on his face. I promised this team I would do my best to help them win and I can’t back out now, no matter how much I want to. I give him a tight nod and we huddle, listening to the play he wants. We break apart and we line up, Zeal calling out the positions. My body is on autopilot because my mind is on the other side of those double doors.
I do the one thing I know well and that’s run. Instead of going forward though, I run along behind Zeal and he passes me the ball, the opposite team momentarily stunned. I take advantage of those few moments and avoid two defensive tackles, my strides growing longer.
My feet glide over that white line and the crowd is roaring, but I’m already running for the doors that will lead me to him. I hear Coach calling my name but at this moment I couldn’t care less about our win and the team could celebrate all they want on that field, I need to be inside. I push by the few medics and throw open the doors, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. I can’t hear anything as I storm into the locker room and I don’t see the doctor anywhere.
“Avando!” I yell into the room and there’s no response.
“They took him to the hospital for a routine check up,” I turn to see Dani leaning against the door, “it’s his third concussion.”
Concussion. It’s common for us to rack up concussions, especially offense players, and it’s also common that people shrug them off. I have had one concussion during my football career and luckily, I had a great doctor who warned me about the consequences of repeated blows to the head. Three concussions are a lot and could be a career ending problem, not to mention what it could be doing to his health. I rip off my uniform just as the guys start piling in, they’re loud and obnoxious about the win, and I can’t bring myself to be on their level.
I rush over to the showers, I can hear them talking about the after party, and I can’t help but be pissed off that not one of them has brought up Sebastian. I take the shortest shower and pull on my clothes, rushing back out into the main room.
“North!” Dex screams, “you were fucking amazing tonight.”
I give him a tight smile and grab my duffle out of the locker, “I’ll catch you guys later.”
“Are you coming by my place?” Zeal calls out.
I don’t bother to answer as I toss him the peace sign over my head, I’m nearly out the front when I hear hurried steps behind me. I instantly turn, not liking my back to anyone, and see both Jameson and Ortiz rushing to the exit.
“He’s at the hospital,” I say to them and they stop suddenly to give me a once over. “I was going to head over there.”
“Why?” Ortiz asks.
“He’s a teammate and he’s been injured.” I shrug and Jameson slowly nods.
“Respect for that.”
He says and darts around me, “he’s fine though, the doc said he shouldn’t drive so we’re on our way to get him now.”
“Oh,” I chew on my lip, “okay, yeah, cool.” I sound like a sniffling idiot.
“See you around, North.” Ortiz nods, respect shining in his eyes as they both hurry out.
Of course, he would call them, those are his boys, not me. I fall back against the wall, the sounds of my teammates celebrating behind me, and my confusing emotions chilling right here in front of me.
Jameson drives his car into the driveway and Ortiz jumps out of the passenger side, opening the back door. I lean forward and watch as Sebastian slowly gets out of the car, his skin looking a little too pale. I watch him closely as he walks to his front door, Ortiz and Jameson waiting by the car, and I can’t believe they’re going to leave him alone tonight, he has a fucking concussion.
He waves at them and opens his door, going inside without a backwards glance. It’s like he knows he’s alone and that there’s no one that will be with him, the thought has me feeling terrible.
Jameson and Ortiz pull out of the driveway, their music blasting loudly as they drive back down the street. I watch as Avando closes the front door slowly and I sit here, debating what I should do. Maybe they’re going to pick up some stuff for him and they’ll be back soon, I can’t imagine his closest friends leaving him behind.
When thirty minutes goes by, I know they’re not coming back, and my stomach sinks with the realization that Sebastian has no one. I shouldn’t care, I tell myself as I get out of my car, and I shouldn’t even be thinking of helping him, I growl inside my head as I jog up his driveway. I stand on his porch and look up into the top right corner, a red-light blinks back letting me know I’m being recorded, can’t turn around now. I ring the doorbell and wait, my stomach slowly working its way up into my throat.
A few minutes later and still he doesn’t answer the door. I ring the doorbell and shuffle from foot to foot, maybe he sees me and doesn’t want to answer the door. He hates me after all. I don’t know what compels me to turn the knob and I gasp when it opens, revealing his foyer to me. Why didn’t he lock his door? Is he expecting someone? Like an idiot, I step inside his house and close the door behind me.
“Sebastian?” I call out and hear nothing, no noise greets me.
I step out of my shoes and walk in further, finding the kitchen and then the family room. Still no sign of Sebastian.
“Avando?” I yell out a bit louder and hear a creak above my head.
I head back out to where I saw the stairs and take each step slowly, unsure of what I’ll find or how I’ll be received. He could very well be loading a gun to shoot me with as soon as I get to the second floor and he would be in his rights to do so, I am an intruder.
There are plenty of doors up here and as I stand there, looking between each one, I hear a slight noise to my left. I head towards it and stop in front of a messy bedroom. This has to be his room.
“Sebastian?” I call out again and when there’s no answer, I enter his room. The bed is unmade, the sheets hanging over the side, and he has clothes thrown everywhere.
I get to the center of the room and hear the faint sound of running water. I follow it to a closed door and press my ear to it, there’s no other sound, just running water. My worry gets the best of me as I open the door and rush inside.
Chapter fifteen
Sebastian
The feel of the cold water spraying on my face brings me back to consciousness. I groan and push myself up from the floor, the tile as cold as the water. I know the routine after a concussion and as soon as I felt myself getting drowsy, I came into the shower. It’s worked before but this time, I must’ve blacked out.
The doctors asked me to have someone here with me for this exact reason but I don’t want Jameson or Ortiz in this house right now, not while I look weak, and I am not calling someone here. I can deal with it. I know the drill with concussions, this being my third one, and I was sure this one would be like the others, but I was wrong. I feel more disoriented, my body is heavy, and my mind is slow. I need to hide this shit though because I can’t let Coach know the extent of my injuries, I’ll be benched. I don’t have an injury clause in my contract, they could let me go eventually if they really want to, and I will be out of a job. That can’t happen.
“Sebastian?”
Why am I hearing North’s voice? Why does this shit keep happening? The doctors said I was asking for Dixon while I was in and out of consciousness and now, I’m hearing his voice in my home? That shit is impossible. I step out of the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist.
“Avando?”
It sounds like he’s right there on the other side of the door and I groan as I slap my hand to my forehead. Fucking stop. The hit makes me dizzy and I fight to keep the blackout at bay, I’m afraid to be here alone. I open the bathroom door and stumble into my bedroom, the room swaying and losing focus. No, I rub my palms against my eyes, stay awake.
“Sebastian?”
“Fuck!” I scream, “why do I keep hearing you?”
“Because I’m here?”
“No, you’re not!” I scream again and turn towards the sound.
I blink as my vision greys, but I do see North standing there, his arms outstretched, and wearing all black. I shake my head and stumble against my bed, the movement making the pounding in my skull worse. Why am I seeing and hearing North? I fucking hate the pussy.
“I think you need to relax,” how is he still talking? What the fuck is wrong with my brain? “Do you want something to drink?”
I fall forward on my stomach across the bed, “please stop talking,” I slap the top of my head, “why is it always you?”
“Why always me what?” He asks.
“Inside my head, making me think things, and feel things that aren’t real.” I might as well confess myself to the fake version of him, “that’s why I did what I did to you, I needed to somehow get you out of my head. Now, it’s getting worse.”
“Worse how?”
“You’re stuck in my head, I think about what I did to you all the time,” I roll over onto my back, the towel opening, and falling to my sides, “I’m not gay.” I ground out just as I feel myself hardening.
Dixon
“I’m not gay.” He says as his towel falls open and his cock juts out, long, and thick. He’s had that inside me and I can’t seem to take my eyes from it as he groans some more, his arm thrown across his face. Is he hard and thinking about me?
I’m not gay either, but my dick is hardening in my own pants at the sight, and I turn away with a curse. I don’t know why Avando has this effect on me and it’s frustrating as fuck. I don’t even completely understand what the fuck I’m doing here. He’s not my friend and he would never do this for me. I hear him groan again from behind me and turn to see him grab a pillow and hug it in close to his chest.
“Don’t leave, Dixon.” He sounds so fucking broken.
I take a deep breath and walk back to him, grabbing up the blanket that's on the floor. I cover his naked body and sit at the end of the bed. I know I have to stay and wake him every half hour, no one else cared enough to do it.
“I’m here.” I answer him as he begins to snore softly.
Thirty minutes comes and goes and I haven't moved from my spot at the end of the bed. He’s been talking in his sleep and a lot of it is about me. Him begging me to stay with him, asking me why I’m here, and then cursing me for being here.
“Sebastian,” I nudge his shoulder, “hey man, time to wake up.”
His eyes open slowly, still glazed over and unfocused, and it begins to worry me.
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
“Why are you still here, North?” he moans, sounding a bit more like himself.
“Someone has to make sure you’re alive,” I retort and help him to sit up, “here drink this,” I hold the Gatorade to his mouth.
He watches me as he dr
inks and when I pull the bottle away, his eyes remain on mine. Still not completely focused and he sways as I release him, falling back onto the bed.
“My head hurts,” he complains.
I lean over him, reaching to grab a pillow for under his head, and feel him fist my sweater, hauling me down on top of him.
“Why are you still here?” his breath fans my face and I swallow thickly.
“I told you,” I begin but I’m cut off when he grabs my face with his other hand and drags my mouth to his.
It’s not a sweet kiss, nothing you’d expect from a lover. No, this kiss is infused with hatred and it burns as he plunders my mouth. His tongue takes no prisoners as it rips through my lips and his teeth draw blood as he bites onto my flesh. His groan sends my blood pumping fiercely through my veins as I match his hatred with more of my own. I don’t know what’s happening with us but right now, it feels so damn good; and then all thought leaves me as I ground my cock down onto his naked body.
“The things I do to you,” he whispers as I run my tongue down his neck, “has to stay inside my head. No one can know, Dixon.”
He’s said my name twice now and each time sounds reverent, like a prayer. My mouth travels down further and I latch on to his nipple, biting into the small, hardened nub. His fingers curl around my hair and he moans my name again as I continue downward. I reach his belly button and dip my tongue inside, grinning when he hisses. His hips come up and his cock bumps under my chin, forcing reality in that moment.
I am about to fuck a man. Not just any man, but a man that has raped me and I don’t think I could stop if I go any further. I rest my forehead on his muscular lower belly and take a deep breath, trying to figure out what my mind and body are saying. Is this what I want? Is Sebastian the person I want to have this sort of relationship with? I’ve never ever been with a man, never crossed my mind, and I have never even held an attraction.