Incoming Freshman

by Carol Lynne

  “Who is he?”

  Chet shook his head and directed his cock to Bobby’s hole. “No more talking.” He didn’t want his first time with Bobby ruined by memories of his short affair with Magnus.

  Bobby lifted his legs to drape over Chet’s shoulders, worry still etched on his handsome face.

  Chet pushed inside, wanting nothing more than to replace that expression with the need he’d witnessed earlier. He should probably tell Bobby about Magnus to ease his mind, but knowing the name behind the one man he’d let dominate him wouldn’t be wise.

  “Harder,” Bobby urged, jacking his cock faster.

  After withdrawing his cock, Chet thrust back inside deep and hard enough to move Bobby up the mattress several inches. It was in stark contrast to the way he felt. For three years he’d wanted to wrap his arms around Bobby and protect him from the bigots Chet knew would love to destroy him. And here I am fucking him to the point of pain, he acknowledged when he saw Bobby flinch.

  Chet slowed his thrusts and lowered himself to lie on top of Bobby. “Let me make love to you.”

  Bobby winced and removed his legs from Chet’s shoulders. “I thought that’s what you were doing?”

  Chet grinned. “Sure, but it’s not the way I’ve always dreamed of making love to you.” He swivelled his hips on the down stroke, grinding his groin against Bobby. “Do you still like to collect autographs from your favourite players?”

  Bobby nodded.

  “Good, because I have a couple for you in my closet. I met a few Chargers when I was in San Diego for the bowl game.”

  “For real?”

  “Yep. See, even if I wasn’t with you it didn’t mean you weren’t on my mind.” Chet reached between them and covered Bobby’s hand. He stared into Bobby’s eyes as he helped stroke his cock. He was close, but coming before Bobby wasn’t an option. He rose up and stared down at the beautiful body under him. “Show me.”

  With his nostrils flared, Bobby buried his head back into the fluffy down pillow and opened his mouth in a silent cry as the first strand of cum shot from his cock. “Chet,” he gasped as three more strands splashed white pearls onto his stomach.

  “Beautiful,” Chet whispered as he released his own seed. Never would he forget the sight of Bobby at that moment. Suddenly, he wanted to bare his soul, and wash away his sins in the loving gaze of a twenty-two-year-old man. “I was too ashamed to come to your dad’s funeral,” he confessed.

  “I needed you.” Bobby winced once again when he straightened his legs.

  “That’s the third time you’ve done that.”

  “What?” Bobby asked, running his fingers through Chet’s hair.

  “Am I hurting you?” Chet pulled out and sat back on his heels. He removed the condom and tied it off before dropping it into the trashcan beside the bed.

  “No,” Bobby said, leaning up on his elbows. “I’m just not used to being folded in half like a taco shell.”

  For some reason the analogy struck Chet as funny. He dropped to Bobby’s side and pulled the younger man against him. “Your folks trusted me to do what was best for you, and I betrayed them.”

  “Yes, you did,” Bobby agreed, drawing his fingers through Chet’s chest hair.

  Although Chet knew he had, it was hard to hear. “I know.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. I remember the conversation you had with my mom at my graduation party. She made you promise to take care of me if she sent me off to Arizona and you told her you would.” Bobby pinched Chet’s nipple hard enough to bring tears to Chet’s eyes. “But then you left me in a city where I didn’t know another soul.”

  “I kissed you,” Chet tried to explain. “You were only eighteen. Your parents trusted me as a guardian, not a lover.”

  “Did they say that?” Bobby shook his head. “Because I don’t remember that part. I think you’re making up stuff now just to get out of feeling guilty.”

  Chet rubbed Bobby’s back. “Have you always been this argumentative or is this something you picked up in the last three years?”

  Bobby leaned up to stare down at Chet. “You can say what you want, but you really only know Bobby Ray Sikes from Star City Arkansas. You may call me Bobby now, but you still think of me as that hick you took to the city for the first time. I’m not that guy anymore.”

  “What’re you saying?” Chet asked.

  “That maybe you should take the time to get to know Bobby, college senior and soon to be social worker.”

  Chapter Four

  Bobby stood in front of the large house and swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Holy shit.” He glanced at the ripped and stained recliner in the back of his truck and cringed. “I’m gonna need to know where the town dump is.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Chet led the way to the massive front doors. “I knew Dane bought a house from Tony, but I didn’t realise it was actually Tony’s house.”

  The door opened and eighty pounds of growling fur stepped out ahead of Dane. “Ares. Sit,” Dane commanded. The German shepherd immediately obeyed and sat back on his haunches. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be,” Bobby replied. “Ares is just doing his job.” He bent and held his hand out for the guard dog to sniff. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be eaten during the night, Bobby stood and addressed Dane. “I hope I came at a good time.”

  “Perfect. The cleaning crew just left.” Dane stepped back and called Ares to his side. “Come in.”

  Bobby stepped into the large marble foyer and gawked like a kid entering Disneyland for the first time. How would he be able to fit into the world Dane obviously came from?

  “Quite a place,” Chet remarked, resting a hand on the small of Bobby’s back.

  Dane blushed. “Please don’t think badly of me. I was brought up to make sound investment decisions in everything I buy, and my accountant told me this place was under-priced.”

  “I don’t think badly of you at all,” Bobby said. “I’ll just have to remember to keep my socks picked up.”

  Dane laughed and led them up a wide staircase that seemed to curve around for no other reason than looks. “Why do you think I had an entire crew here cleaning this morning?”

  Bobby reached the second floor and waited for Chet before following Dane down the hallway.

  Dane opened the first door before moving to the next. “You can take your pick of rooms. This one has a better view, but the one at the end of the hall is a lot bigger.”

  Bobby glanced into the first room. A large set of French doors led out to a small balcony overlooking a private lake. “You weren’t kidding about the view. I’ll take this one.”

  “Don’t you want to at least see the other one?” Dane asked from the doorway.

  Turning away from the view, Bobby shook his head. “This one’s three times bigger than what I’m used to. I can’t imagine what I’d do with more than this.”

  Chet whispered in Bobby’s ear. “I’ll get you the address of the dump.”

  “No kidding,” Bobby whispered back. The room was equipped with a large four-poster bed and a small sitting area done entirely in white. The couch and accompanying chairs looked like big clouds floating in the centre of the room.

  “Would you rather have a tour of the rest of the house first or bring in your things?” Dane asked, still standing in the doorway.

  “Why don’t we go ahead and unload. Coach Sloan has a meeting he needs to get to in an hour,” Bobby told his new roommate.

  Dane nodded and disappeared out of the doorway. Bobby turned to Chet. “Can you believe this place?”

  “It’s something all right. One day you’ll be able to afford a house like this, though.”

  Bobby knew that wasn’t the case, but he was fine living on a social worker’s salary. “I don’t need anything this big to be happy.”

  * * * *

  After several minutes of making out with Chet in his new bedroom, Bobby watched Chet’s SUV disappear down the driveway. He sighed and clos
ed the front door. Because Chet’s meeting would probably run late and it was Bobby’s first night in his new home, they’d agreed to meet for lunch the following day.

  “Dane?” he called, walking towards the back of the house. He hadn’t had his tour yet, but Dane had excused himself to his study after they’d carried the last box in. “Dane?”

  “In here,” Dane answered.

  Bobby rounded a corner and came to a short hallway. The doors were open so he glanced inside the rooms until he found Dane, Ares sitting close by. Unlike everything else in the house, Dane’s study seemed in complete disarray. Books and papers were strewn on every available surface, making it difficult to concentrate on the lone man standing in front of a wall of books. “Chet just left,” he announced.

  Dane glanced over his shoulder. “He seems nice.” He pulled a ratty-looking leather bound book from the shelf and turned around. “Am I wrong in thinking the two of you are more than coach and player?”

  Although it was the first time since he’d arrived that someone had asked, Bobby knew it wouldn’t be the last. “No, you’re not wrong. I’ve known him since I was in high school.”

  Dane’s blond eyebrows rose. “You’ve dated since you were a teenager?”

  Bobby shook his head and headed out of the claustrophobic room. “I’ll tell you all about it over a bottle of water.”

  Dane followed Bobby into the kitchen and set his book on the breakfast table before retrieving two bottles of water from the fridge. Within seconds, Ares was once again at Dane’s side. Ares might not be the world’s best guard dog from what Bobby had seen, but he was truly devoted to his master.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m being too nosy. You know you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” Dane said.

  “No, that’s okay. If we’re going to live together, you should know why Chet wants to keep the fact that we’ll be dating quiet.” Bobby went on to explain the strained relationship and their hours-old reconciliation. “Although I know he loves me, I want him to get to know the person I’ve become and not who I was.”

  “And how’s he supposed to do that if you have to hide the fact you’re dating?” Dane asked, pushing his glasses up.

  “He wants to hide it, not me,” Bobby clarified. He rubbed his hands together, making a decision to share his secret with Dane. It would be too hard to hide his injury from Dane if they were living together. “Chet doesn’t know it yet, but my future in football is seriously doubtful.”

  “Huh?”

  Bobby took a deep breath. “I have a partially torn ACL. It happened two days before finals last semester.”

  Dane’s jaw dropped. “You had surgery less than three months ago and you’re planning to play this season?”

  Bobby shook his head. Soccer players were just as susceptible to ACL tears as football players, so he was sure Dane was familiar with the injury. “No. At first the doctor thought the tear might heal on its own if I rested it, but by the time he suggested surgery, it was too late to have it and still be ready for the season.”

  “So you’re planning to play anyway?” Dane shook his head. “That could really mess you up.”

  “I know,” Bobby acknowledged. “But if I don’t play, I don’t get my scholarship. If I can make it through at least part of the season I don’t think they’ll take the scholarship away.”

  “But if you have the surgery there’s an excellent chance of full recovery before the draft.”

  Bobby had been over every possible scenario and they all led to the same conclusion. “Do you really think a running back coming off ACL surgery will be picked up in the draft after having sat out his senior year? Especially a player who refuses to live life in the closet? I doubt it, and that’s why finishing my degree is so important to me.”

  “What does Coach Sloan say about it?”

  “He doesn’t know. It would put him in a bad position if I did. He’d be torn between telling the scholarship committee and letting me play injured.”

  “Yeah, but you’d also be deceiving him. How do you think he’ll take it once he finds out you’ve been lying?”

  Bobby crossed his arms on the table and buried his face in the pocket they created. “I don’t know.”

  “Excuse me if I’m crossing the line, but how do you expect him to get to know the man you’ve become if you’re lying to him?”

  Good question.

  * * * *

  Bobby decided to wait until after his conditioning appointment with Julian before making a final decision on whether or not to tell Chet about his knee.

  He entered the weight room and glanced around, impressed. “You’ve got a lot of state-of-the-art equipment in here.”

  Julian slowed the treadmill to a stop and stepped off. “Yeah. After we won the Holiday Bowl, corporate donations came pouring in, including three VertiMax systems.” Julian grinned. “Guess what I’m going to have you working on?”

  “The VertiMax?” Bobby guessed. He’d worked out on one of the elastic band resistance strengthening machines before but not since his injury.

  “Yep.” Julian stared Bobby in the eyes. “You think you can handle that?”

  Since his injury, Bobby had tried to keep a good regimen of prescribed exercises like hamstring curls and shallow standing knee bends, but he knew his knee wasn’t up to jumping up and down on the VertiMax.

  It soon became obvious by the challenging expression on Julian’s face he knew something was wrong with Bobby’s knee. He stared back at Julian for several moments before answering. “No, and something gives me the feeling you already know that.”

  “Okay then, follow me.” Julian turned and walked towards an office in the corner of the exercise area.

  Julian motioned for Bobby to shut the door. “Drop the sweats and have a seat,” he said, indicating the treatment table. The muscles in Julian’s jaw ticked, broadcasting his anger, so Bobby didn’t question him.

  In nothing but his T-shirt and a pair of underwear, Bobby sat on the training table and stretched his injured leg out. At that point he figured there was little reason to hide his injury. The big question was what Julian would do about it.

  Julian greased his hands with massage oil before walking to the table. “Knee?”

  Bobby nodded. “ACL partial tear almost eleven weeks ago.”

  Julian massaged Bobby’s knee while he spoke. “So you knew about it when you called Justin?”

  Bobby nodded again. “I can play. Up until a week ago, I was getting physical therapy. I may not be able to run at my normal speed, but I won’t slack off on training or therapy. As soon as the season’s over, I’ll have surgery if the doctor still advises it.”

  “You know we can’t let you play without a doctor’s release, right?”

  Bobby had rarely begged for anything, but he was prepared to do whatever it took to earn Julian’s faith. “I’ll work my ass off, I promise. Just give me two more weeks to heal, and I’ll go to whatever doctor you want.”

  Julian narrowed his eyes and wiped his hands on a towel. “Do you want to go pro so badly you’d risk damaging your knee even more than it is in order to play this year?”

  “No. I want a degree. I can’t get it without the scholarship,” he admitted.

  With his hands on his hips, Julian dropped his head and muttered to himself for several moments. “Can you run at all?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t gone full barrel yet, but I’ve jogged on the treadmill and I’ve tried to get in at least twenty minutes on the elliptical every day.” Bobby shrugged. “Well, before I left home anyway.”

  “If you’ve been doing that, why’re your muscles showing signs of atrophy?”

  “Because I’m afraid of overdoing it, so I haven’t pushed myself. Before I got hurt, I ran five miles a day and worked on strength training at least two hours a day. There’s no way I could keep up that schedule with my knee the way it is.”

  Julian bent over and picked up Bobby’s shorts. “Put these back o
n and meet me at the treadmill.”

  * * * *

  By the time he finished with Julian’s workout, Bobby was in some serious pain, but he pasted a smile on his face and headed for the shower. He dropped his clothes on the locker room bench and grabbed a towel from the rack.

  Bobby groaned as the warm water hit him. He tilted his face up to the spray and let the tears fall. Not only was the pain eating him alive but so was the guilt. He should’ve told Julian when his knee had started hurting, but he was afraid the trainer would pull him off the equipment and send him back to Arkansas.

  The sound of the shower curtain sliding open signalled a visitor. “All done?” a familiar voice asked.

  Shit. Bobby had hoped he’d have a few moments alone to get himself together. He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned around. “Yep. Julian’s a hardass, but he’ll have me back in shape in no time.”

  Chet’s frame filled the shower opening as he stared at Bobby. “He told me you were having some problems with your knee.”

  Fuck. “Yeah, but it’s getting better all the time. I shouldn’t have any problems by the time the season starts.” Bobby held his breath, hoping Julian hadn’t given Chet a full rundown of his injury.

  “You should’ve told me,” Chet grumbled.

  “I didn’t want you to worry. It’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.” Bobby tried to stand with his weight balanced evenly on both feet so as not to draw attention.

  Chet’s gaze zeroed in on Bobby’s left knee. “Does it feel sturdy enough to take a hit?”

  “Not quite, but it will.” Understatement of the year.

  Chet slowly looked his way up Bobby’s body, stopping to stare at Bobby’s flaccid cock. That more than anything should’ve given him away. Normally Bobby’s cock would be fully hard at the first sound of Chet’s voice, but even after seconds of Chet eating him alive with his eyes, nothing.

  “Julian asked if we want to have dinner with him and Koby,” Chet finally said.

  “Sure, if you want to. Mind if I call Dane and invite him?”