Rush

It feels good to let loose like this. Just to be me, and be okay with who that is.

  When we get home, Alec reaches for the switch to turn on the living room light but I stop him. I stumble a little, finding him in the dark but I lean forward with my mouth by his ear. “Wanna taste you. Can I?”

  His breath hitches. “Like there’s any possibility I’m saying no.”

  There’s a nervous flutter in my stomach but I try to ignore it. I want to soak up everything I can in our time together. I want to experience it all with him while I have the chance.

  “What are we waiting for?” Alec breaks me out of my thoughts and then we’re stumbling toward the bedroom. Hunger and need battle the nerves as I close the door behind us. I’m already hard, ready to have him but wondering if I’ll get to feel his mouth on me too.

  Alec turns on the light, and for some reason, my eyes find the football he gave me all those years ago, that’s now sitting on his dresser. Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention. I turn to see Alec starting to take his clothes off.

  He already has his shirt over his head when I say, “Wait.”

  I fumble with the button on his shorts, and then push down the zipper. It’s like a rush of everything hits me when I push my hand below his boxer-briefs—excitement, desire, strength, truth, all of it, creating a perfect game, all of it working together so there’s no way Alec and I don’t win this game. Together.

  “Holy shit that feels good. I still can’t believe it’s you touching me.”

  “It’s me, baby. I can’t believe I get to touch you too.”

  His body’s hot, getting hotter by the second as I push his clothes down his legs. Alec steps out of them while I’m throwing my shirt to the floor.

  He runs his finger along the edge of my boxer-briefs, which rest higher than my shorts. My hand finds its home in his hair at the back of his neck as I crush Alec’s mouth beneath mine. I’m not gentle and he doesn’t expect me to be, which just makes more fire rush through my veins.

  Closer . . . closer I keep going toward him, pushing him as I go, even though it takes him farther away from the bed.

  My hands are rough on him, my kiss hard too and then we’re stumbling backward until Alec’s back hits the wall.

  It jars us apart for just a second before I take him again. Damn, I love kissing Alec. Love the stubble on his face and how it feels against my own.

  But tonight, I need more.

  My lips kiss their way down his body. Alec’s hand grips my hair and I can’t help but laugh against the ridges of muscles in his stomach. “Excited?” I tease. He tries to move but I pin him to the wall with my arm.

  “About to fucking blow up.”

  I drop to my knees, nerves trying to battle their way in again.

  “You’re killing me. You look so hot down there.”

  Tilting my head up, I think the same thing about him. His blond hair hangs in his face, his sinewy muscles tight as mine feel.

  “Brand . . . please. I need you.”

  I’ve never in my life been able to give Alec what he needs. I’ve walked away from him and hid who we are and not always treated him the way I should. I’ll be damned if I deny him this.

  I don’t know what I’m doing. All I can think is to try and do what would feel good to me, as I take him into my mouth. A couple times I almost gag but keep going and eventually I find a rhythm.

  “Brand . . . holy shit.” Alec’s hand tugs at my hair.

  That makes me take him deeper before using my hand to stroke him at the same time. He feels how I imagined he would and tastes how I wanted him to, like man, all strength and hardness.

  When he tenses and groans out his orgasm I smile, so fucking glad I get to see him like this. That I make him like this.

  Before I move away, Alec drops down beside me before shoving me down to the floor. My whole body feels sensitive, eager and ready to feel him too.

  Alec jerks my pants off and I’m scared as hell I’m going to lose it right now because of the anticipation.

  Not able to even find it in myself to be embarrassed, I say, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  A moan and my body jerks as Alec’s mouth lowers over my erection like I did to him.

  It’s incredible. He is. The carpet rubs against my back, a contrast to Alec and the feel of his tongue and the suction of his mouth.

  After my release, Alec falls down next to me, both of us on our backs, breathing hard.

  “That was awesome,” breathlessly slips past his lips.

  All I can do is smile at the way he plucked the words out of my head.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alec

  Things have changed in the week since Brandon and I went out. I don’t know what it is or if I’m just a nutcase and making shit up but he seems lighter and more like the Brandon I used to know. The one who always wanted to have fun and teased his brother like crazy and made me feel like maybe those thoughts in my head didn’t mean there was something wrong with me after all. Not if someone like Brandon could feel the same about me.

  Looking down the grassy field, I watch him, forty yards away looking determined as ever. I’m holding the stopwatch in my hand, nervous as though it’s me who has my life riding on how fast I can run the forty-yard dash.

  “Go!” I yell. Brandon takes off and I hit the button on the stopwatch and what feels like two seconds later, he runs past me. Holy shit, he’s fast.

  But I know it’s not as fast as he was. “Four point six seven.”

  “Fuck!” Brandon yells, before bending over with his hands on his knees.

  In a few steps, I’m standing by him. “That’s not bad.”

  “I was three point nine eight before.”

  “Which is fast as hell. There’s nothing wrong with just being fast.”

  “But it’s not what I was.” Brandon shakes his head as though I don’t get it and maybe I don’t. “I need to be back where I was, Al.”

  Because football is who he is, and if he’s not as good as he was before, he’s failing.

  “You have three weeks before you go back for camp. You’ll train there. You still have your senior year. You’ll get it back.”

  Brandon looks up at me, a smile threatening to pull at his lip. He straightens, and then reaches out, and touches the side of my face. “Thanks. I know you’re right. It’s just . . . hard.” He scans the area to make sure no one is around and then brushes my cheek with this thumb.

  It’s something that would have freaked him out before but I still wish he didn’t have to look around first.

  Brand doesn’t wait for me as he makes his way to the truck. He’s tense and I’m sure it’s because he touched me outdoors the way no straight guy ever would have. Still he did it.

  “You’re sexy when you run,” I tell him while we’re driving, hoping it’ll relax him.

  “Yeah? I’ll run as much as you want me to, then. You’re always sexy.”

  Playfully, I push him. “Suck up. That’s cheating.”

  Brandon laughs, the tension from touching me in public already gone. “I didn’t know it was a competition.”

  “Do you know us? Everything we do is competition.”

  “True.” My phone rings just as the word leaves his mouth. He picks up my cell and looks at it. “It’s Charlie. Want me to get it?”

  “Go for it.” After stopping at a light, I make a right turn.

  Brandon talks to Charlie for a few minutes before telling her to hold on. “They’re bored and want to come over and barbecue or something.”

  It’s so strange to hear him talk like that. Like we’re a real couple and we’re having people over to our place for dinner. Which in some ways, is happening but we also both know there will be no Alec and Brandon in three weeks, and there will probably be no Alec and Brandon in front of Charlie and Nate either. Even though they know about us but we’ve never so much as touched in front of them.

  Nerves push their way in, making me wonder
how careful we’re going to have to be. Frustrated that in our apartment, the only place we’ve ever totally been us things will suddenly be different.

  Shit, I guess I should remember in three weeks, it won’t even be our apartment anymore. Just mine.

  I find it in myself to push those thoughts away. “It’s cool with me. We can run and grab some food real quick. I think we’re out of charcoal.” We grill at least five nights a week.

  “No, I grabbed it yesterday.”

  At that my eyes flash to Brandon’s and his do the same to me. “Fucking-A . . .”

  “No shit,” I reply.

  He shrugs. “We work well together,” he says before he puts the phone to his ear again and tells Charlie they can come over.

  I’m standing at the grill after just putting the steaks on. The potatoes have been on for a while now so it’s not much longer until dinner’s done. Brandon’s sitting on the couch, playing a video game with Charlie, and by the sound of it, she’s getting frustrated because she can’t figure it out and thinks Brand’s going easy on her.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if he is. He’s like that.

  Leaning against the railing I watch them. The sliding glass door is almost all the way closed because it’s hot as hell out here and we have the AC on inside.

  Nate steps up to the door and comes out, closing it completely behind him.

  “She’s always been like that. Gets pissed if she thinks a guy’s going easy on her because she’s a girl.” I smile. Charlie was out there playing football with us and kicking our asses at night games when we were kids.

  I turn back to the grill, not really sure what else to say to Nate besides that.

  “Yeah, but watch: just give her a few more minutes and she’ll have it mastered and then she’ll be giving my brother a run for his money.”

  I nod because that’s true too.

  “How’s he doing?” Nate finally asks after a pause.

  “How do you think he’s doing?” It feels like a betrayal to talk about Brandon to his brother. What he tells me will always stay with only me.

  “I think he’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long-ass time. Maybe forever because I’m wondering how much of it was fake before. But I also don’t think it’ll last much longer. He’ll lose himself again when he heads back to school. How can he not?”

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and open them again before flipping the steaks. Nate isn’t telling me anything I don’t know but it still sucks hearing it.

  “I wish he didn’t love football so much. It’s all he’s ever wanted and he doesn’t know how to keep it and be . . . gay.”

  It’s only all he’s ever wanted because he thinks that’s all he’s able to do.

  Nate continues, “I wish he trusted me more.”

  “It’s easy for people on the outside not to understand. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t experienced it really can get it. Do I know in my heart that there’s nothing wrong with being gay? Hell yeah. Does that mean it’s easy for me to open my mouth and say it to people? That I don’t feel like in a way it’s letting people down or that I just didn’t try hard enough to be “right” or a million other things? No. It’s like there’s this war always going on inside me and from day to day I’m not sure which one will win—honesty or fear. When you hear about people sending their kids to fucking camps to ‘learn to be normal,’ having nothing to do with them, or people who believe with all their hearts that it’s wrong to love who you do . . . It’s hard not to let that in. And he’s an athlete. That makes it worse. You know what it’s like, man. You’ve been in the locker room and heard shit people say.” I glance over at him before looking away, embarrassed I went off like that.

  “I might not have experienced it but he knows I love him no matter what. We’ll always be okay.” He shrugs. “I want him to be happy.”

  Me too.

  “No one can make the decision to change it but Brandon though.” I wish I could tell him. Wish I could say that Brandon isn’t who everyone thinks he is. That he might be confident on the field but inside he’s always struggling.

  “It’ll help when he gets back with his team. Playing again will help.”

  For Brandon’s sake, I wish Nate is right. Brandon will pretend he’s okay but he won’t be.

  When I hear the slide of the door, I look over to see Brand peek his head out. “Quit trying to talk about me, little brother, or I’ll kick your ass.” He ruffles Nate’s hair like he’s a kid and Nate pushes away.

  Ignoring him, Brandon comes over to me, putting a hand on my back and looking over my shoulder at the grill. “How’s it coming?”

  It takes me a second to reply because this is the first time Brandon has ever touched me in front of anyone except for that one time with Logan and considering Logan’s gay and Brandon was trying to stake his claim, this is different.

  “It’s about done. Probably just a couple more minutes.”

  “I’ll make the salad.” He disappears into the apartment and Nate goes in behind him. All I can think about is how real this all is now . . . and how much losing it is going to hurt.

  After we eat we decide to walk up to the basketball court not far from my apartment. It’s something to do besides sitting around playing video games or watching a movie.

  We play a game of two on two, Brandon and Charlie against Nate and I. It works well for guarding purposes. I catch Nate feeling Charlie up a few times and I’m not going to pretend I don’t enjoy my hand on Brand or his on me.

  No one would know the difference either.

  “Don’t miss,” Brandon whispers in my ear as I’m dribbling the ball. I fake and try to go around him but he’s still on me. I turn, trying to back my way to the basket as I dribble, Brandon right behind me. “Come on, baby. Show ’em how it’s done and I’ll give you a surprise tonight.” His voice is so soft there’s no way anyone could hear him but me. But I definitely do, dribbling the ball off my foot, and of course he grabs it, takes it out and then drives to the basket, scoring so him and Charlie win.

  “You owe me!” I throw the ball at him, which Brandon catches easily, laughing the whole time.

  Both Charlie and Nate look a little confused but neither of them asks. Brandon’s still laughing as we start to walk back to the apartment.

  It’s not long until Nate reaches over and grabs Charlie’s hand. Sometimes I wonder if people realize how lucky they are to be able to do things like that. It’s easy to take for granted that it’s not that simple for everyone. When I glance over at Brand he’s looking at me. He shrugs and gives me this sad smile and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am.

  It doesn’t take long for us to get back home. When we step inside, Nate turns to me. “I still can’t believe you let him get that shot off.”

  “Hey, I seem to remember Charlie getting past you a time or two.” Brandon wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me to him before kissing my forehead. “Plus, I cheat.”

  I fist my hand in the back of Brandon’s shirt and he keeps his arm around me. It sucks but I can’t help but wait for it. Wait for him to realize what he did and be embarrassed and push me away. For Nate or Charlie to make a comment and ruin it but none of that happens. Nate just keeps talking shit about the game and Charlie rolls her eyes talking about how ridiculous guys are with competition. Then it turns into all of us teasing her because she’s the only woman here.

  It’s so normal yet makes my heart race too. Brand ends up rubbing the back of my neck. Automatically I find Nate and then Charlie’s eyes to see if either of them are staring or paying attention but it’s . . . normal. So normal I relax.

  For the first time in my life, I know what it’s like to be in a real relationship. To hang out with friends and not have to hide the person I love. We’re Brandon and Alec being together like we’ve always wanted to be.

  Later that night, Brandon and I are lying in bed. Even though I didn’t make the shot, he still paid his dues since he cheated. I’m trying
to catch my breath and thinking life can’t get much better than Brandon going down on me.

  “Al?” He wraps an arm around me.

  “Can’t talk. Dying.”

  His voice is serious when he continues, “It felt good, tonight. Just . . . being, ya know? I know we can’t . . . I can’t, around anyone else but it’s my brother and Charlie . . . They already know, and I . . . I guess I wanted it to be like any other night. We have to hide from so many fucking people that I don’t want pretend when we don’t have to.”

  “I don’t want to pretend either.”

  Ever.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brandon

  “Only two more weeks until football camp. I bet you can’t wait!” Mom sounds like she’s going to burst in excitement on the other end of the phone. I’ve got a fist squeezing my chest.

  “Yep. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. Senior year.”

  “Oh, baby. I’m so happy to hear you say that. I feel like I’m getting my son back. I knew all you had to do was start training again. You belong on that football field, Brandon. I’m so proud of you.”

  It’s never been a question if my parents loved me. Both Nate and I have always known that. They’re a little sidetracked sometimes and in their own world but they would do anything for us.

  And they’ve always been proud of Nate. Even when Dad didn’t make it home for dinner sometimes or missed weekends with the family, he was always there if Nate got some award at school or something. Dad’s smart and he loved that Nate was too.

  They never tried to make me feel like shit because I wasn’t as smart as Nate but it happened. I didn’t have honor roll assemblies for Dad to go to and I didn’t get told how promising I was . . . unless it had to do with football. The older I got and the better I got, Dad started making it to my games too. It was the first time I had something that made me special—something he wanted to support and a reason to be proud of me.

  There’s the part of me who knows it’s to support me. That they love football because I love football but then that stupid fucking voice pushes in that can’t help but ask: What reason will they have to be proud of me if I don’t have ball?