by Felix Brooks
“Yeah, I figured, why not—”
Waseem tackled him, pinning him on the couch and covering him with kisses. They quickly moved into the bedroom, where they kissed some more as they undressed each other. They made love languidly, experimenting with sixty-nine again, but finishing with Waseem rubbing their dicks together. That seemed to be Brent’s favorite thing, and it was pretty high up on Waseem’s list, too.
They lay facing each other, legs intertwined. Waseem brushed his fingers through Brent’s hair. He loved doing that. It was mostly dark blond, but with pale blond highlights that glimmered in the light.
“I love you so much,” Waseem said, “and I love what we have together. Even if we have to keep it secret. Things are difficult now, but they won’t always be that way. In another year, you’ll be the one preparing for the pro scouting trials. You’ll be starting a whole new life, and no one will be able to stop you from being who you are.”
Brent nodded. “I need to ask you something. I’ve been wanting to for a while, but I didn’t think it was my place.”
Waseem ran the back of his hand against the stubble on Brent’s jawline. “Anything, babe. There’s nothing you can’t discuss with me.”
“I know you’ve been looking for jobs in the Raleigh area, but I want you to stay here, on the coast. If you can.”
Waseem’s chest sank. How was he supposed to tell him about the Raleigh interview now? “I’ve applied for some jobs here locally, but I’m not optimistic. It’s not the most progressive area. I’ve been out the whole time I’ve been at Coastal—anyone who Googles me will find the news stories about me.”
“You think it will be easier in Raleigh?”
“Probably? I’m looking in Charlotte and Asheville, too, but they’re so much further away. Believe me, I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about us.”
Brent nodded. After a moment, he said slowly, “If you didn’t take a coaching job, and just took a teaching job instead, it would be easier.”
Waseem laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Brent wasn’t wrong. Everything would be easier if he took a local teaching job. And if Brent went into the pros, Waseem could follow him. It wouldn’t be that hard to get a teacher’s certification in another state.
But he wanted to coach. That was the reason for going into teaching in the first place—so he could get a job as a high school football coach, then maybe move up to the college level. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’m sorry. I know I don’t have the right to ask you that.”
“You have every right.” Waseem turned back toward him. “You’re my boyfriend. You can ask me anything you want.” Waseem’s stomach churned, and he bit his lip. “I’ll look at other options.”
Brent nuzzled him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And now it’s time for me to ask a favor of you.”
Brent grinned. “Uh-oh.”
Waseem kissed his mouth, slow and gentle. “I hope it’s not an uh-oh. I’m hoping it will be fun.”
“I love having fun with you.”
“First, I want to say that I’m happy with how things are between us. Sexually, I mean.”
“But you want more.”
“I didn’t say that.” Waseem ran his hand down Brent’s arm and intertwined their fingers. “I’d like you to think about more. We don’t have to talk about it now. We don’t have to talk about it anytime soon. But at some point, I’d like us to have a conversation. Just a conversation.”
Brent’s eyes were wide, his mouth pinched.
Waseem’s stomach tensed. How could he help Brent relax about this? “If you’re never ready for more, I won’t be unhappy or love you less. And I’m sure as hell not going to cheat on you. If you have doubts, we can talk about it. And if you can’t do it, then the answer is no.” Waseem shrugged. “I accept that.”
It was Brent’s turn to stare at the ceiling. Finally, he asked, “Are you a top or a bottom?”
Waseem grinned and kissed him, happy Brent was able to talk about it at least. “I’m versatile. That means I’m happy either way. So you can take your pick.”
Brent lifted his brows. “I don’t know whether that makes it harder or easier. Now I’ve got even more decisions to make.”
“Just a suggestion? We could try it both ways, and see if you have a preference. You know, sometime in the future. If you want to.”
Brent buried his forehead in Waseem’s chest and laughed. “You’re trying so hard to be good.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You obviously want to do this, but you don’t want to pressure me. And I appreciate that. But you’re not fooling me.”
Waseem rolled him over and pinned him to the mattress. “You want me to say it? Fine, I’ll say it. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your big thick cock filling me up. I want you to ram inside me hard and fast until I spurt cum all over both of us. Does that make you happy?”
“That might make me happy. I’ll have to think about it. And then we can have a conversation.”
Waseem held Brent’s arms over his head and nipped his earlobe. “Smart ass.”
Brent raised his head up and kissed him. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not freaked out.”
“That’s good. I know this stuff is new to you, and you’re carrying around some baggage.” Waseem rolled onto his side. “I just want you to be okay. I worry that you’re not okay.”
“I’m okay.” Brent snuggled up close to him. “I can’t spend the rest of my life lying to my parents. Either they love me more than the prejudice in their hearts, or they don’t. Either way, I want to know, so I don’t invest time into people who don’t deserve me.”
Brent’s face crumbled and his eyes glistened. His words were strong, but he had such a sweet heart. Waseem wished he could protect him, but he couldn’t. Not from this.
Waseem held Brent against his chest, gently stroking his hair and the broad plane of his back. He would love Brent enough for father and mother, for sister and brother, if that was what it came to. He would love Brent enough to make him whole.
They lay like that for a while, and Waseem wanted to sleep. But they couldn’t. Waseem had an early class the next day, and he had to leave. He couldn’t spend the night and risk being seen leaving Brent’s apartment.
The press had stalked Emmett on campus last semester. They’d been charged with trespassing, and paid a fine. But Brent’s apartment wasn’t on campus. Anyone could park on the street legally and film Waseem coming out of Brent’s apartment at six in the morning.
It seemed crazy to think Brent might be a story, with a year still to go before he could turn pro. But Coastal already had a reputation as a gay team, even though Waseem and Emmett had been the only gay or bi players the previous season—at least the only ones who were out. That was two percent of the team. But since zero percent of most college football teams were out, two percent seemed like a lot.
Waseem kissed Brent, then got up and dressed.
Brent’s shoulder’s drooped. “I hate this.”
“Me too, babe. It’s not forever. Someday we’ll be able to live openly. Focus on that.”
“I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, but I can’t imagine my life without you now. Is that dumb?”
Waseem gave him a soft smile. “Not dumb at all. I feel the same way.”
Brent sighed and sat up, the sheet still covering him from the waist down. “Falling in love is the best and worst feeling in the world.”
“I know! When I’m not with you, I feel a horrible ache inside.”
Brent nodded. “And when I’m with you, it’s like I’m walking on clouds.”
Waseem leaned over and kissed Brent’s face. Once dressed, Waseem sat with him and took his hand. “I’ll lock up on the way out. Thanks for the key.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll think about what you suggested,” Brent said. “In fact, I might send you dirty texts about it.”
“Not while I’m in
class, please.”
“You’re no fun.”
Waseem crept through the dark living room and let himself out. The night was cold but bright. He didn’t have it all figured out. There was still so much about Brent he didn’t know. But whatever problems headed their way—and they were certainly coming—he and Brent would get through this together.
Chapter 14
A couple of weeks later, at lunchtime, Brent picked at his chicken breast, which was smothered in some unidentifiable cream sauce. He didn’t have much appetite, but he was an athlete. He had to eat.
Jake grabbed his phone from the table in the cafeteria, and Waseem took it out of his hand. “I told you to stop looking at that,” Waseem said. “Checking the news every second won’t help Emmett perform better. It’s only driving you crazy.”
“Our whole future depends on this,” Jake said.
“That’s true,” Waseem said, “but it’s up to Emmett now.”
“What if he chokes?”
Waseem looked at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. “I’ve played football with the guy for four years, and Emmett doesn’t choke. He’ll do great.”
Brent knew that was true. Still, he couldn’t help worrying. If Emmett got through this, then Brent felt like he had a chance. But if Emmett couldn’t make the pros, how could Brent hope to?
It was dumb thinking that way, of course. He hadn’t realized until today how invested he was in Emmett’s success. It was as if Brent needed proof that he wasn’t wasting time on this dream, and Emmett somehow would be the proof he was looking for.
Waseem had been teaching him to lighten up a little. Brent was getting better at living in the moment, just enjoying life rather than focusing on achievement. He reminded himself to look around, to enjoy the camaraderie of his friends. Because his college years wouldn’t last forever.
A cheer came up from a nearby table, where some of Emmett’s frat brothers were sitting. Demonté headed over. He showed Jake his phone. “Did you see this? Emmett tied the quarterback record for the 40 yard dash.”
Jake beamed, his face flushed with happiness. Brent was glad. The poor guy was clearly suffering. It must be tough to be one of the family members, sitting on the sidelines, unable to do anything except pray.
The whole thing made Brent nervous. But a year from now, when his turn came, he intended to be ready. His head would be in the game. And he would not let his parents take that chance from him.
***
After lunch, Waseem suggested that they go to the beach to get Jake’s mind off things. Brent, Waseem, Jake, and Seth piled into Waseem’s car. It was a BMW, not a new one, because Waseem’s parents hadn’t wanted to take a chance on vandalism or other damage on campus.
Not that things like that happened much, but there was no way to secure a vehicle. Brent understood their point. He had a beat up old Chevy, but it was well maintained and ran like a champ.
It was early March and still cold at the beach, but the sound of the ocean was soothing. Brent loved it there, and wished Charlotte wasn’t so far away. But really, if he turned pro, he could end up anywhere. Living on a beach still might not be an option.
The more urgent question was where Waseem might go. He’d had several interviews, but no offers yet. He’d gotten second interview requests from one district in Raleigh and one in Durham. But they were two or three hours away.
Brent didn’t think he could stand having Waseem so far away from him for an entire school year. He knew it was selfish. He wanted Waseem to live his dreams—but really, was it so much to ask for Waseem to stay near the coast for a year, until they found out where Brent would end up?
Brent could lose his parents. That wasn’t some irrational fear. If he lost Waseem too, he wasn’t sure he could stand it.
“You have any more interviews lined up?” Brent asked.
Waseem sighed. “No. I did hear back from that place in Asheville. They decided to go with someone else. Not that I’m super disappointed. I love Asheville, but I don’t want to be that far from you.”
Brent wanted to take Waseem’s hand. But even here, with no one in sight, he didn’t feel safe. He had to hide like a criminal. It wasn’t right.
But this was his life now, and it would be for a while. He was trying to accept that. At least he got to be with Waseem, and that made his life better in so many ways. He’d never been so happy.
Or so terrified.
He’d get used to the fear eventually. It would become background noise, instead of a terror that gripped him every time he woke up. For now, it was hard to sleep and sometimes hard to eat. But when he was in Waseem’s arms, he was in heaven.
“It’s been an hour,” Jake said. “Can I have my phone back now, please?”
Waseem relented and handed it to him.
Jake tapped a few times, then scrolled. “Yes! Emmett scored near the top for the vertical jump and the broad jump.”
“So, will you relax now?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.” He hugged Waseem, and Waseem squeezed him tight.
Brent thought it was adorable. He loved that Waseem had such close friendships. It said a lot about what kind of man he was. People loved him. They looked up to him. Brent was lucky to have a man like that in his life. More than that, he needed him.
Brent had always played by the rules. But there were no rules to navigate this double life. He was managing to keep his grades up, because he stuck to his routines. His personal life, though, was a mess.
He hardly talked to his parents anymore. He’d never learned how to lie to them, so he simply had to omit things. Important things.
Anger built inside him. He didn’t like the way it made him feel, hiding from his parents’ hate, but he didn’t have a release for it, either. His friends were supportive, and when he could, he talked to Michael. But at the same time, he didn’t want to get his brother into trouble. He didn’t want his brother living through the same kind of hell that he was.
Maybe he wasn’t being fair to his parents. He hadn’t actually given them a chance to prove one way or the other whether they loved him enough to accept who he was. But everything they’d shown him for as long as he could remember told him he couldn’t trust them.
And that was their fault. It was shameful. No child should feel that way about their parents.
He thought about the Ten Commandments, and how children were supposed honor their father and mother in the Lord. But it said nothing about parents honoring their children. It seemed like that should go without saying, but somehow, it didn’t. People who didn’t want to do the right thing could always find some Bible verse to support them.
Seth set a hand on Brent’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Same old. My parents might disown me.”
Seth pressed his lips together, then said, “I know I can’t understand exactly what you’re going through. But…I lost my parents when I was nine. It was the worst thing I could imagine, and it happened to me.”
Brent gripped Seth’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Seth nodded. “I survived. I got good grades and got into a good school. Now, I spend my days looking for evidence of life in another planetary system. I mean, it’s not likely, but it’s possible that one day I could become the first person to discover alien life. I could make history. I might have a new species named after me. My name could be remembered for as long as our civilization lasts.”
Seth grinned, then shook his head. “I don’t spend my time looking back. I mean, sure, there are times when it seems like the pain won’t end. But I don’t let it destroy me.
“Whatever happens, Brent, you can get through this. It may be hard, but you’re a strong person. You’re fearless on the football field. You’ve got the support of all your friends, and that includes me. If you need anything, anything, just ask. I know I’m not a very social guy—but losing what you love most in the world is something I’ve got experience with. I can help.”
Brent broke down. Set
h wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Here was this guy who Brent barely knew, pouring out his heart. Sharing something intensely personal because he wanted Brent to know that he’d be okay.
And Brent knew Seth was right. He would be strong and get through this. If he had to, he would build a new family to replace the one he lost. He would not let hate destroy him.
He looked up and wiped his face. Waseem’s worried eyes were on him. “You okay?”
“Not right now, but I will be.” He patted Seth’s back. “Thanks, dude.”
“Any time. I mean that.”
They strolled along the boardwalk under the bright sun. The breeze was cool, and Brent drew his coat around him. Still, the rhythm of the waves gave him perspective, made him feel like part of the larger cycles of the earth—and somehow, less alone.
***
When Brent got home, he checked his voicemail. He’d seen a call come in from his father but ignored it. The message was pretty much what he expected. “Brent, this is your dad. Call your mother. She hasn’t heard from you in a while, and she’s worried. This isn’t a request. As long as we’re paying for your education, we expect you to follow our rules.”
A cocktail of emotions flooded Brent’s chest. Anger, frustration, resentment. He was twenty-one years old, a star athlete, a straight-A student, and his parents still didn’t respect him as a human being. Nothing he did would ever be good enough. So why did he care what they thought?
Brent called his mom.
“Thank goodness! It’s good to hear your voice. Is everything okay, honey?”
Like you actually care. “I’m fine.”
“How are your classes going?”
“Same as always, Mom. Everything is under control.” His voice sounded mocking, and he knew he should restrain himself, but he couldn’t. He’d reached his limit.
“And your grades are okay?”
Ire shot up his spine. He could not. “When have my grades ever not been okay?”
Silence. At last, she said, “I don’t appreciate that tone.”