by Felix Brooks
At the end of the second round, Emmett had not been chosen. The mood grew more somber. Waseem paced. Brent wanted to go to him, but he couldn’t risk it in such a public venue.
Instead, Brent continued sitting with Paige, holding her hands nervously. It was Seth who went to Waseem. The two headed outside. A few minutes later, Brent and Paige followed.
“It’s because he’s bi,” Waseem said when Brent reached him.
“Emmett was never guaranteed to be a second-round pick,” Brent said. “It’s still early. There’s plenty of time.”
“Emmett said himself,” Paige added, “he didn’t expect to be chosen before the third round.”
“Emotions are high right now,” Brent said. “Let’s try to stay calm. Jake needs that from us.”
Waseem nodded. Still subdued, he headed back inside with the others following. Waseem sat next to Jake and punched his arm playfully.
The next announcer came on stage to begin the third round. Brent’s heart pounded. It was almost like being underwater, the sounds distorted as he tried to catch his breath. Half the people in the room seemed to be hyperventilating. This was the most exciting thing that had happened to Coastal College in a long time.
When Emmett’s name was called, the room erupted in cheers. Brent stood and gave out a yell. Paige wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her. Not a for-show kiss, but a happy kiss. She was his best friend, after all.
Waseem ran out of the frat house and stood on the lawn screaming at the top of his lungs. Brent could only laugh. Jake, on the other hand, sat like stone. Brent wasn’t sure whether Jake was stunned, or was actually unhappy.
Emmett had been chosen by an East Coast team, which meant he and Jake would be living on opposite sides of the country. Brent could understand how Jake might be upset about that. But the next moment, tears filled Jake’s eyes, and he smiled. Seth pull the guy off the couch and into a big hug.
Mayhem ensued inside the frat house, football players chest bumping each other, frat brothers dumping perfectly good beer over each other’s heads. Brent and Paige went outside and found Waseem. He was chatting with some of the other team members, and gave off a whoop every few minutes.
Brent was in no hurry to make contact with Waseem. This was a public celebration to share with the entire campus. They would have their own private celebration later. For now, it was nice to be part of something bigger than the two of them.
Eventually, when the initial excitement wound down, Brent and Paige went back inside. They found Niels and Claire in the bar downstairs and sat with them.
Brent patted Niels’ back. “You’ve got some big shoes to fill.”
“Waseem told me I should light a fire under his ass,” Claire said. “I’ve been doing my best.”
“I’ll be happy to help you out with that.” Brent took a swig of his beer. “Because I intend to make it into the pros next year, too.”
“You, me, Demonté,” Niels said. “We’ll make a powerful offense.”
“You’ve got the power,” Brent said. “Emmett’s intellect is what sets him apart. But you’re a smart guy, Niels. You’ve got the potential.”
Niels sipped his beer slowly. He said thoughtfully, “All I’ve ever wanted to do is build things. When I was a kid, I used to take my toys apart to figure out how they worked. I’m a born engineer. Until six months ago, I never thought I could become a professional football player. But after tonight, the sky’s the limit.”
Brent smiled and fist-bumped him. Niels was a good guy. Maybe they were on the road to becoming true friends.
***
After the party, under a full moon, Brent rode in Waseem’s car. They could have walked to Brent’s apartment, but the chances were greater of being seen that way. No point in getting careless now.
Brent had made a decision. He was tired of being afraid. Waseem wanted more than Brent had been able to give so far, but tonight, that would change.
He’d bought condoms. It was his first time, and he’d tried to play it cool, but it was embarrassing. Still, it had been the right thing to do for health reasons.
“You want a drink or anything?” Brent asked as they entered the apartment.
“Not unless you do.”
“I’m good,” Brent said. “I’ve got other things on my mind.”
Waseem waggled his brows, and Brent smiled.
They moved together while kissing. Waseem unbuttoned Brent’s shirt slowly. Brent wasn’t quite used to that, another man undressing him, wanting that intimacy. Brent pushed Waseem’s shirt up over his head and arms, exposing the broad chest and sculpted abs.
It still seemed strange to Brent that Waseem’s body turned him on, when normally nothing else did it for him. But he didn’t need to understand.
Instinctively, Brent had known that Waseem was someone he could trust, someone who would look out for him. Even when they were just friends, Waseem had been loyal and kind. He never talked trash the way other guys did.
Brent didn’t like that sort of thing. He’d done it sometimes to fit in, to show he was a “man,” whatever that meant. But asserting his dominance like Emmett? Brent had no desire for that.
He wanted to prove his competence on the field and in the classroom. He was a workhorse, not a show horse. And he was glad Waseem appeared to respect that.
The kisses Waseem trailed down his neck were tender, not insistent, and Brent reveled in them. The two simply enjoyed each other. Brent had imagined sex would be a rush to orgasm, like masturbation was for him. But Waseem made it an experience, a sharing of pleasure, with no goal but being together. Orgasm happened as a natural outcome, but touching and tasting and giving to one another was an end in itself.
When they reached the bedroom, Waseem kneeled and unbuckled Brent’s belt. The gesture spread another wave of desire over him. With quick work of Waseem’s fingers, the button of Brent’s jeans came undone, the fly unzipped.
Brent gasped as Waseem pushed down Brent’s jeans and briefs. Brent stepped out of them willingly, excitedly, a thrill zinging through him as Waseem kissed the tender flesh of his hipbone. Everything Waseem did turned him on.
He ran his fingers through Waseem’s dark curls. That mouth on him, so hot and wet, was perfect in every way. Waseem’s tongue teased him, running up the shaft and over the flat of the head.
Waseem took the tip into his mouth, licking and sucking. Brent wanted to thrust, but he let Waseem have control. Those sweet lips on him made Brent crazy.
“I want you so much, babe,” Brent said. “Want to be inside you.”
Waseem looked up at him, still stroking the shaft. “You mean like this?”
Brent gave him a grin. “Take off your clothes.”
Waseem’s brows rose and his lips parted. He stood and undressed quickly, pressing his body to Brent’s. Brent kissed him deeply, then lowered him onto the bed. He got out the lube and condoms.
“We’re really doing this?” Waseem asked with a smile.
“Unless you’re not ready.”
“I’m more than ready.” His eyes sparkled.
“You might have to talk me through it. Since I really have no idea what I’m doing.”
Waseem chuckled. “Have you ever worn a condom?”
Brent’s face warmed. “I tried one on today, to see how it fit.”
Waseem rolled on the bed, laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s adorable.” He stood up and kissed Brent tenderly. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
Brent nuzzled him, then pushed on his chest. “Get back on the bed so I can fuck you.”
Waseem lay on his back and opened the bottle of lube. “I don’t require much preparation.” He got himself ready while Brent rolled on the condom.
Brent was glad for the practice session earlier in the day, because doing it in front of Waseem made him nervous. This was a big step. He hoped he was ready.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Brent got into position. “Tell me if I do somet
hing wrong.”
“Just start out slow. If you feel any resistance, stop and let me adjust.”
Brent did. He entered Waseem’s hot channel gradually, and the tightness was so good he thought he might lose it. He exhaled, on the edge of control, wanting to fuck hard into Waseem’s body but afraid of doing damage.
He got himself fully seated, then leaned down and kissed Waseem. He wanted to say something that was as profound as what he felt, but sensation overwhelmed him. Words didn’t come. So he said it with his body instead.
He stroked Waseem’s hair and his cheek, kissed his lips. They found a gentle rhythm. Brent aimed toward Waseem’s belly button. Waseem gasped, and Brent knew he’d found the sweet spot. He hit it over and over again, loving the way Waseem writhed when he did.
Brent sped up the pace, and Waseem groaned. He gave Waseem everything he had. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
“It’s good, babe. So good.”
Brent pounded him, tension building in his balls and his shaft until he erupted. Waseem clamped down, stroking himself until he came all over his chest. It was mesmerizing, watching the cum shoot out of him. Brent collapsed on top of him, spreading Waseem’s seed between them, binding them together. Nothing had ever been so sweet before in his life.
They held each other for a while before taking a quick shower together. They toweled off, and Waseem dressed. Brent wanted to beg him to stay.
But the press was around, interviewing students about Emmett. The campus would probably be crawling with them the next day. Waseem’s car outside Brent’s apartment at six on a Saturday morning might raise suspicion.
So Waseem covered Brent with tender kisses before leaving. The moment was bittersweet. Brent had never felt so close to Waseem, or so far away.
One day, this secrecy would end, and they could be together. For now, he’d have to be patient. It would be hard, but Waseem was worth the sacrifice. Brent wouldn’t let anything come between them. No matter what.
***
After the late night, Brent slept in the next day. By the time he dressed, it was almost noon. He stepped out of the bedroom and got himself some breakfast. Whole wheat toast, hard-boiled eggs, coffee with cream to get his brain moving.
He put his dishes in the sink and sent Waseem a quick text to ask about his plans for the day. A moment later, the doorbell rang. Had Waseem decided to just stop by? Brent tossed his phone on the bed and went to the door.
When he opened it, he was shocked to see his parents. It took him a moment to collect his wits. Good thing Waseem had decided not to spend the night.
“Morning, son,” his dad said. “Aren’t you going to let us in?”
Still dazed, Brent said, “Sure,” and stepped aside. His mom brushed past without even hugging him. She wasn’t an affectionate person, but still, he hadn’t seen her in three months.
“Big night last night.” His dad stood with him in the foyer. “A lot of people aren’t happy about a queer being drafted onto their team.”
“His name is Emmett,” Brent said, working hard to hide his disdain.
“You still friends with him?” his dad asked.
Brent’s mom had disappeared—into the bathroom, he guessed. He racked his brain, trying to figure out whether anything was visible he didn’t want her to see. No, the lube and condoms were put away in the nightstand. And besides, straight men used that stuff, too.
“Brent?”
He turned back to his dad. “Yeah, um, Emmett and I are still friends. So what?”
“I thought I told you not to hang out with those queers anymore.”
“It’s not contagious.”
“Or maybe it is.” His dad pulled out his phone, tapped it a couple of times. “We got a phone call this morning at the ass-crack of dawn. Someone wanting a statement from you.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. But Brent hadn’t done anything. He and Waseem hadn’t even touched in public.
His dad showed him the screen. A video started to play.
It was Niels and Claire in the basement of the frat house. Brent couldn’t see who they were talking to. The video was shot in profile, and they were turned away from the camera. Anyone who didn’t know them as well as Brent did might not have recognized them.
They were clearly caught in mid conversation, because Niels was saying in a passionate voice, “I don’t know why they keep calling it a gay team when we only have two gay players.”
“Three,” Clare said.
Niels turned and looked at her. “What are you talking about? It’s just Emmett and Waseem.”
“Isn’t Waseem dating Brent?”
Brent froze. Where had that come from? They’d been so careful!
In the video, Niels laughed. “Brent has been dating that Paige girl since freshman year.”
Claire arched her brows. “Paige has got a girlfriend back home. They’ve been together since high school.”
“Seriously? I always thought she and Brent were a couple.” He shrugged. “Well, anyway, Waseem is dating Seth.”
Claire shook her head. “No-o-o. Seth is straight. That night you and I first got together? Glenda went home with Seth.”
“Dude,” Niels said to Claire, “I see Brent and Waseem every day. We work out together. If they were a couple, I would know.”
Claire said in a skeptical voice, “If you say so.”
Brent couldn’t breathe. He’d known from the beginning that Niels and Claire would be the weak point. But this wasn’t their fault. Some asshole had recorded them without their knowledge. Which he was pretty sure was illegal. And then, said asshole had sold the story to BallerGab, the same gossip website that had outed Emmett.
His dad put away his phone, and Brent crossed his arms.
“So I work out with Emmett and Waseem,” Brent said evasively. “They’re helping me to get stronger, to be a better player. I can’t help it if people speculate about who I’m dating.”
“And what about Paige? Is it true she’s a lesbo?”
Brent squared his jaw, tamping down the urge to punch him in the face. “Paige has a girlfriend, yes.”
“Well, it’s just queer city around here, isn’t it?”
Brent shook his head. “What do you want me to say?”
“Maybe you could explain this,” his mother said, his computer in one hand and his phone in the other. “Texts between you and Waseem. Love you, babe. Can’t wait to see you, babe.”
“Jesus Christ,” his father said. “Is that what you are? A filthy cocksucker?”
“Language!” his mother said.
Brent couldn’t respond. It was like he’d been pulled into a nightmare and he couldn’t get out. He was glad he was bigger than his dad. If the man took a swing at him, Brent could take him out. But it bothered him that his dad was standing between him and the exit.
“Here’s how it’s going to be,” his father said. “You break it off with that sodomite, or we cut you off.” He picked up the car keys from the table by the door, then opened Brent’s wallet and pulled out his credit and debit cards. “That computer and that phone? I paid for those. And the car, and this apartment, too. But you lucked out. Rent is paid until the end of May. You’ve got a month to figure out where you’re going to live. You’re certainly not welcome in our home. And good luck scraping up tuition for next year.”
“Brent, honey, we love you,” his mom said. “All we ask is that you repent for your sins. God will forgive you, and so will we. But we can’t support your lifestyle as long as you’re committing this abomination.”
Too stunned to speak, he watched them go. His dad got into his Buick, and his mom into Brent’s beat up Chevy. They were taking everything.
He stood in shock as they drove off. Like a tornado, they’d come in and destroyed his life in a matter of minutes, and then were gone. Not like he was surprised, not really, but this was a disaster.
How was Brent supposed to do his schoolwork without a computer? At least his data was copied to the cloud. Shit,
he had to download it to a new machine before they got to Charlotte and deleted his backups. Because they might do that.
He had a few twenties in his wallet, but no credit card. He couldn’t buy a computer—he’d have to borrow one. Who did he know who might have an extra lying around?
Tears flowed down his face, but he didn’t have time for that. First, damage control.
He had no idea where to begin.
Chapter 17
Walking back to the dorm from the cafeteria after lunch, Waseem’s stomach turned to lead. With all the excitement the night before, he hadn’t check his email. So it wasn’t until the morning that he’d seen the job offer.
It was for the school in Raleigh. He had promised Brent he wouldn’t take the job, but he’d kept going through the process just in case. Brent didn’t know that part. Should Waseem discuss it with him, or just decline? Maybe things had changed in the past month. Maybe Brent would see things differently.
He sent Brent a text. OK if I come over?
It was a few minutes before he got a reply. He read it once, then again. Panic rushed through him, followed by confusion and dread.
I can’t do this anymore. This is wrong. I should’ve listened to my parents.
That made no sense. The night before, everything had been fine. The best it had ever been, in fact. Why would Brent break up with him out of the blue? Had they taken things too far, too fast?
Waseem called but got no answer. Baffled, he headed to Brent’s apartment. But no one was there, and Brent’s car was gone. At a loss, Waseem walked back to campus.
Next stop was Paige’s room, but no one answered there, either. He didn’t have her number to text her. So he wandered back to Harmony Hall, hoping to come up with an idea on the way. He was at a loss.
He stopped in Jake’s doorway. Jake was alone, sitting at the desk. Emmett wasn’t due back from Philadelphia until the next day.
Jake turned and looked at him, then scowled. “You okay?”
Waseem could only shake his head. His throat closed up and he couldn’t form words. He shut the door and broke down.