by V. L. Locey
The group chatted for a bit before the players had to go back inside and shower.
“You’re staying at the Sleepy Time Inn, right?” Garrison asked, his sister hanging off him like a lemur. Miss Emily appeared to have missed him as much as I did. Mr. Rook nodded and my father started talking about how excited he was to check out the pool in our hotel. “Great. Why don’t I meet you all there for lunch?”
“That would be lovely,” Mrs. Rook said then hustled her son back to the stadium. We all stood there waving until the three Cutters disappeared into the bowels of the park. “He looks good. Thin but good,” Mrs. Rook said as she began nudging us to the minivan.
“I’m sure the team feeds him well, honey.” Mr. Rook assured her as we piled back into the Kia. I kept staring at the door that had closed behind Garrison. A hand on my thigh startled me. Mrs. Rook smiled at me from the front seat.
“Someday soon he’ll come out and you’ll be able to hug him in public just as we did,” she softly said. I threw horrified looks at the people in the van with me. Was I that opaque? I thought I had hidden the pain well. When they all gave me trembling smiles, I coughed up something to lighten the mood, or so I hoped.
“I’m sure it’s that way for all professional athletes,” I said but no one in that Kia bought it. Emily, who had ridden beside me, dropped her head to my shoulder.
“I hate it that you and Garrison have to hide the fact that you two are boyfriends. It’s stupid! People who hate gay people are stupid.” Emily growled. “It’s stupid and unfair to have to hide love.”
“We all agree with that, peaches,” Mr. Rook said. Mrs. Rook squeezed my knee and my father reached up from the seat behind Emily and me to knead the muscles of my neck.
I hugged Emily to my side and whispered weak thanks to all the wonderful people in that stinky Kia.
***
The hotel room was airy and clean. I had my own room, which I needed to thank Mrs. Rook for. Hopefully, if all went according to plan, Garrison and I could retire to my room so he could “rest” before the game. I splashed on a little more cologne, ran my fingers through my hair, and then rushed out of my room to meet the others. Riding down to the hotel lobby seemed to take an eternity. I exploded out of the elevator, spied Garrison among the people coming and going, and started to make my way to him, excitement making me feel bouncy and light.
Garrison seemed to be in deep conversation with an older man wearing a suit and tie. As I drew closer, the tall man with the horn-rimmed glasses nodded. Garrison looked back. His smile warmed me down to my toes.
“Hey, Mal,” he said, his voice thick with something sensual. Then his eyes moved from me to the family and the fire in his gaze flickered and died. “Everyone, this is Coach Polzin. He’s the batting coach for the Cutters.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Coach Polzin said, his words strongly flavored with German. “I wished to get to meet Garrison’s family. I hope my intrusion for lunch is not bad manners?”
“No, please, we’d love to have one of Garrison’s coaches join us.” Mr. Rook gushed then grabbed the big man’s hand and pumped it. “We used to watch you play all the time when you were up in New York. Garrison idolized you, Mr. Polzin.”
“Please, I am just Ivan to you,” he said as everyone gathered around the famous player. Even I knew who the man was. Garrison had pictures of Ivan Polzin tacked to his bedroom walls. He had always dreamed of playing as Ivan had, with lots of passion and physicality. “Why do we not go across the street to the buffet restaurant and visit?”
So we did. We ate and visited, and visited, and visited. And while it was wonderful to hear all the kind things Coach Polzin had to say about Garrison, and discuss every playoff game Ivan had participated in during his years, I was ready to pull my hair out and braid it after the third hour that ticked past. It probably seemed rude to keep checking my watch. Maybe Ivan noticed because he eventually pushed to his feet and patted his stomach.
“I’ve kept you from spending time with Garrison, and for that, I apologize.”
“No please, this has been a simply lovely time,” Mrs. Rook, always the proper southern lady, said to the towering coach. “We’d love to hear more about the way the team is planning to play our son in the upcoming season.”
Ivan’s gray eyes moved to me. I smiled and nodded enthusiastically hoping to cover my rude behavior. He sat back down. The waitress refilled our coffee mugs, Garrison and I shared a pained and meaningful look, and another hour dragged by. When the party finally broke up, Garrison had to head to the ball park.
“I promise that I’m going to spend the night here with you,” he whispered beside my ear as we waited for Ivan to come around to the front of the hotel to pick up Garrison, who had ridden with his coach. “It’ll be just you, me and a big old bed. I hope you brought plenty of condoms.”
“A full box,” I replied then stared sharply when Ivan blew his horn. Garrison gave us a warm smile then jumped into the shiny black Range Rover. We all waved then went back to our rooms to freshen up for the game. For the hour we had to kill, I watched TV and tried not to think about a naked Garrison spread out over the bed a foot from me. Going to the game with a raging hard-on was not on my To-Do list. I flipped on Fox News. That effectively killed any lusty thoughts by crushing them with rage.
By the time we were ready to head to the stadium, I was looking for someone to punch. Fox News had that effect on me.
Our seats were behind home base. Dad sat on my right, Emily was on my left. She was unable to stay in her seat. Her excitement over watching Garrison play kept her on her feet. Finally, when I heard the people behind me muttering about not being able to see as the teams warmed up, I gently tugged on her long brown ponytail.
“People can’t see.” I told her. She blushed and then sat down quickly. Both teams left the field. My sight stayed on 54 until he was hidden in the dugout.
“Do you think Garrison will be in the pros next year like Coach Polzin predicted?” she asked then took a tray of nachos from her mother.
“Yes, I do.” I stole a cheesy corn chip from her tray, hand cupped under the chip to catch any dripping cheese. I didn’t want to stain up my Cutters jersey.
“Yeah, me too,” she said then gave me a cheesy grin. Soon we were standing for the national anthem and the Cutters took the field. When a camera touched on Garrison and he appeared on the scoreboard, we all hooted and shook our Cutter cowbells as loudly as we humanly could. My dad gave me a quick side hug. We were all so excited for Garrison. All of us had lived this dream along with Garrison. How I wished I had been there with Mr. and Mrs. Rook when they’d visited Garrison on campus and seen him playing at the collegiate level. But I was home, wallowing in pain and misery.
“You look sad, O’Malley. Is everything okay?” Emily shouted over the din of the fans as the first pitch was thrown and an Ace player popped out.
“Everything is fine now.” I told her. She nodded and then went back to screaming encouragements to her brother. We then had four innings of mediocre baseball. Garrison had managed to get to first on a nice single up the middle, but he was stranded there with three quick outs. Overall, it was a blasé evening. Neither team could get anything on the scoreboard. Finally, at the bottom of the eighth inning, Garrison swatted a bouncing ball that danced along the third base line then rolled into the outfield. His speed turned a single into a double. Now it was up to Rudy, who followed him in the batting rotation. The first pitch – a fast ball – suckered Rudy in, his swing wide and strong. The strike made the fans in the bleachers groan. The second pitch was a ball, the third a wicked curve that he watched sail across the plate. The ump called the strike and we all wished we could argue the call but we couldn’t. The next pitch must have sailed over Rudy’s sweet spot because he swung with all he had and wood hit cowhide. The crack was loud. We all leaped to our feet and cheered as the ball sailed over the centerfield wall. Emily was so excited she dumped her nachos. Mrs. Rook cried. Mr. Rook looked
rather teary as well. I felt incredibly proud as Garrison and Rudy were enveloped by their teammates after crossing home plate.
“You watch how well he plays now that he has you at his side.” My dad shouted into my ear over the elated Cutter fans. “There will be no stopping him.”
I beamed at the praise, although it seemed rather lofty of him to include me in any of Garrison’s successes. The Cutters went on to win the game 2-0. Garrison had done incredibly well but maybe I was just biased.
After the game, we met up with Garrison outside the player’s entrance. He signed autographs and took selfies with the fans. I stood to the side, smiling and enjoying seeing him living his dream. Maybe next year he would get called up to the pros. It was doubtful but stranger things have happened. That would necessitate a move but if he went, I’d follow.
“Hey, sorry to make y’all wait,” he said when he finally broke free. His gaze locked with mine. That was all it took for me to feel the heat beginning to spark between us – one single look among family, fans, and other Cutters. Cutters who, if I could be terribly petty, were embracing their wives and girlfriends, or at the least holding their hands.
“You look like you just took a swig of curdled milk,” he said as we made our way to our vehicles.
“Sorry.” I reached up to push my glasses back up my nose. “I was thinking petty thoughts. They taste bad.”
“Yeah, they do. Mal and I are going to go check out this nightclub I heard about.”
“We are?” I asked and then was taken by the wrist and pulled to his Silverado.
“We are.” Garrison told me before we climbed into the truck, leaving our family looking at our backsides. “Buckle up,” he said. After I had myself strapped in, we slid out of the large parking lot into light traffic. “It’s a metal bar.” He informed me right before something that sounded like Satan being circumcised blew out of the speakers. “Wow, that’s loud. Don’t you love August Burns Red?”
“Not really too much, no,” I replied but my words were beaten to death by the screaming metal music shattering my eardrums. “Do you think we could skip the club and just go back to the hotel?”
He glanced over at me as we pulled up to a red light. “I thought I’d show you a good time.”
“Trust me, when we get back to the hotel, we’ll be having a good time.”
A sinfully salacious smile appeared on his sexy lips. We took the next right, two lefts, and then another right. We screeched into the parking lot of the Sleepy Time Inn at the same time our family did.
“Shit.” Garrison snapped when his mother ran over to the truck. “I was hoping we could avoid them.” I lifted a shoulder.
Mrs. Rook tapped on the window beside Garrison. Her son exhaled dramatically and then put the window down.
“Good Lord, Garrison, turn that music down.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured. The interior of the truck grew quiet thank heaven.
“What happened with going to a club?”
“Oh, well, Mal said he had something in his room to show me.” Garrison lied a terrible lie. Mrs. Rook rolled her eyes at the ghastly fabrication. He then looked down at the console between us, a grimace on his face.
“Well of course he does,” Mrs. Rook said. “Now, I know you two are in a hurry to get some alone time, but I wanted to give you these.” She opened her tiny clutch and then extracted a box of condoms. Her son glanced up from the console and then gaped at her in horror. “Take them and use them.” She crammed them into Garrison’s big hand, patted his flaming cheek, and then went back to Mr. Rook, Emily, and my dad. They all waved and entered the hotel.
“My mother just gave us condoms,” he finally said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Condoms. For you to put on your dick when you fuck her son. In the ass. Dear Lord, my family is going to kill me.”
“Oh look, they’re magnums. She must think quite highly of me.” I teased then pinched his nipple through his dress shirt. He yelped and whipped the box of condoms at my head. “I think it’s amazing that they are so great about us. Lots of gays wish they had a mother as great as yours.”
“I know but really? Giving my boyfriend condoms in a hotel parking lot?”
A car pulled up next to us. We shoved the condoms into the suit jacket Garrison had peeled off and thrown into the back after leaving the stadium. We then nonchalantly left the truck, condoms rolled up inside the jacket. We talked about the Cutters and baseball as we rode up to our floor then strolled to my hotel room.
“I think this team is really going to go places,” Garrison was saying while closing the door. Whatever sports talk he was going to launch into next never materialized. I gave him a soft shove. His back bounced off the door, grunting in surprise. I took his head in my hands and covered his mouth with mine. His legs parted slightly when I wiggled my knee between them. His mouth was minty fresh, his tongue hot and eager. Garrison grabbed my hips and tugged. We both made throaty sounds when hard cock jammed up against hard cock. A wild sort of fever overtook me. I began ripping off his shirt, sending buttons flying as I pumped my cock against his. He threw his balled-up suit jacket toward the bed. When I hit a snag in my stripping of my lover, he coughed and then broke the kiss.
“My tie.” He panted as he tugged at the slim blue tie. I yanked the knot free and flung the tie over my shoulder. Garrison smiled sinfully when I shoved his shirt off his shoulders. My hands roamed over his chest, moving through the curly brown hair peppered over his pectorals. I leaned back into him, taking his mouth in a passionate kiss as I squeezed his chest roughly. The man moaned into my mouth. I swallowed the sound, ran my tongue over his teeth, and rolled my hips faster.
“Get into bed,” I said against his parted lips. “I really need you in bed.”
“Fuck but I like it when you get all aggressive.” He mumbled breathlessly then nipped my lower lip. “It turns me on because it’s so not like you in normal life.”
“I’m a whole different equation when the bedroom door closes, huh?” I pulled him by the wrist from the door. He nodded and then unzipped his trousers. I stood rooted to the spot, a mere foot from the door, and enjoyed the slow show of Garrison peeling off the rest of his clothing. When he was naked, I blindly reached back to lock the hotel room door, and then pulled my Cutter jersey over my head as I walked closer to him. I reached for his dick but he danced in reverse. He never let me touch him. He just crawled onto the bed, laid down on his back, and looked at me with hooded brown eyes as he languidly began stroking his cock.
“How do you want me? Hands and knees or back?”
“Hands and knees,” I replied then shucked my jeans and underwear down over my ass. I tried to step out of my pants but got tangled up and had to dance around, pants around my ankles until I got off my sneakers and pitched them aside. I noticed that his suit jacket laid half-on and half-off the bed by the pillows.
“Wow, that was all sorts of slick.” Garrison chuckled then rolled to his knees and fell forward, his arms outstretched over his head, his perfect ass high up in the air. I dropped to my knees beside the bed and buried my face in his ass. A long, rolling moan escaped him when my tongue moved over his tight rosette. His hips moved in a circular motion, the pace increasing as I tongued his tight ass as if it were my last meal before being led to the gallows. Who knew when I would be able to taste him again? I feasted on his delicious flesh, toyed with the puckered opening, and then pushed a spit-dampened finger into him.
“That is so fucking good.” Garrison mewled as he rocked back to get as much of my index finger into him as he could. I lapped at his balls, sucked them into my mouth, and rotated my finger. He shuddered and mumbled something that got lost in the bedding. “Shit, I’m going to come.” He ground out a moment later. His balls slid out of my mouth. I grabbed his dangling cock and squeezed it hard at the base but it was too late to stall his orgasm. He came into my hand as I pushed my finger deeply into him then hooked it to stroke his sweet spot. Garrison yelped in pleasure, his le
gs slipping out to the side. When he was flat on his belly, I got off the floor and put my knees between his splayed legs.
My cock rested on his left buttock. I leaned down, pressing my chest into his back, and whispered, “Grab the headboard,” beside his ear. A wild tremble ran through his body as he gripped the bottom rung of the brass headboard.
“Oh yeah, fuck me, Mal.” He begged. I lapped a few droplets of sweat from the nape of his neck. My dick slipped between his ass cheeks. I tasted his spine. “Mal, shit man, just fuck me, would you?” I ran the tip of my tongue over his shoulder blade and back over his neck. “O’Malley, stop fucking around!”
“Part of making love to the man you adore is building up the sexual tension,” I whispered against his smooth back then bit it gently. “Why rush?”
“Fuck sexual tension.” He snarled and wiggled his ass against my cock. “I want you inside me.”
“You never did have patience when it came to anything that didn’t involve a baseball mitt.” I muttered and sat up to run my fingertips over the firm globes of his ass. “Remember how shoddy our song and dance routine for the sixth grade talent show was simply because you didn’t have the patience to practice?”
“Life’s too short to go over things a million times…unless it’s batting practice,” he replied. I leaned over him to grab the lube from my bag and a condom from the box Mrs. Rook had given us. “Yeah, good, finally,” he said as I rolled the condom over me. “Hurry up.” Garrison grunted and lifted his pelvis off the comforter. I squeezed a thick line of lube over my cock. Touching myself as I spread the lube around made me shiver. I was so hard I ached. He yanked on the headboard. Smiling to myself, I then nestled myself into him, gripping my dick tightly and pressing the head into him. His back muscles rippled as I pushed past that inner barrier of resistance. I slid in slowly, enjoying the way his body stretched to accommodate me.