Sweat ran down Jay Harland’s supple body, his lean frame sparkling in the light of the setting sun as his soccer uniform clung to his angles. His wild red hair was soaked through, and he pushed a hand through it to keep it out of his face. A tan was starting to settle in, but it couldn’t hide the precocious freckles that accented his cutting features
He caught sight of himself in the mirror of the changing room locker, and couldn’t help but grin at his own reflection. He hadn’t failed to notice more than one chick taking a second glance of him post practice, not that that was too uncommon, and who could say no to some attention like that? If you’ve got it, flaunt it.
He grabbed for the towel, mopping up the excess sweat from his face and neck, as the rest of his team changed out of their gear. The clacking of cleats on the linoleum floor turned to the metallic opening and closing of locker doors, as idle banter filled the room. It had been a good practice, and the young men’s arousal was settling into a gentle fatigue. Athletes changed out of their drenched gear as the sound of showers started up, the hot water hitting the floor as the fastest (off the field, anyway) of the team headed in to clean up.
Jay took longer to get in, checking his phone as he always did after practice. Nothing exciting, just the usual set of texts, but he replied all the same. If he didn’t get into the shower before he heard back, then he’d no doubt put it off even longer, so he started to undress.
As he pulled his top off, he listened to the surrounding chatter of his teammates. Classic locker room talk: how the practice had gone, what they were doing after, which chicks had the hots for them. Jay couldn’t help but smirk at how familiar it all was. Some people might call it cliché, but they were probably the sort of nerds who’d never set foot on a soccer field to begin with.
He was just about to pull his shorts down when he thought he heard his name dropped. He turned his head, looking for praise, but instead saw something he hadn’t expected.
Daniel Whitten, down to his underwear, just as sweaty as he was.
Dan had his back to him, but it wasn’t like he’d never seen another guy shirtless after practice before. There was nothing unusual about it.
So why was he lingering? Why did he feel his lip under the bottom of his teeth?
He stood there, staring for that long moment, until he caught sight of Trevor out of the corner of his eye, looking right back at him.
He swung his face back to his locker, shifting his staring into it, tensing up tight. He felt his face go red, that blush that was always far too vibrant for his tastes spreading across his cheeks.
He stood where he was, for a moment longer than he could justify. What the hell had Trevor been doing, looking at him? Why couldn’t he mind his own damn business?
What the hell had he been doing?
He panicked, grabbed his sweaty top back out of his locker and slammed it shut. He pulled the shirt back on, kicked back into his shoes, and took his bag with him back out the door. He might’ve feigned an excuse if he’d been asked where he was going, still dripping with sweat, but everyone was too busy in their own world to notice. For once, Jay was glad not to be the centre of attention.
It was late at night, and Jay was home alone as always. His dad was ever the no show, and there wasn’t a sound in the house. Jay was lying on his bed in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake.
He was hot, too hot considering how cool the room was. It had happened again, and that prick Trevor had seen him. He’d been staring at one of his teammate’s half naked body, staring like people stared at girls.
Like he was supposed to stare at girls.
He clenched his eyes shut, shutting out that thought. He wasn’t like that, he liked girls. He’d fuck the shit out of them when they threw themselves at him. He wasn't some fucking sissy who pranced around in makeup lisping every word. He just stared at Dan because, well…
Well, he hadn’t even stared at Dan. He’d just looked around the locker room cause he thought Dan had said his name, and that moron Trevor thought he’d been staring at Dan. Yeah. That was it.
He was still looking at the ceiling. He’d never get to sleep like this, and he knew it.
He could feel it in his pants.
He tightened his fists, but it was no good. His hand crept down, and brushed up against it. Brushed up again. Took a grip.
He kept shaking his head, shutting his eyes, trying to think of girls, but it didn’t stop anything.
He was reserved at school the next day, a rare sight indeed. He didn’t start any conversations, didn’t send any texts. He even focused on his schoolwork, if only to try and take his mind off that thing he absolutely didn’t do the night before. That wasn’t him, he wasn’t like that.
A hard hand to the back came without warning, like a thunderclap when you weren’t looking out a window, as Jay was trying to distract himself with his phone in the lunchroom. “The hell!?”
It was Trevor, with an unsightly smirk on his face. Ugly prick.
“Sup Jay, you alright? You’re quiet today.”
‘Screw off.’ is what he wanted to say, but he settled for a disinterested grunt. He knew better than to give people ammo when he was in a bad mood.
That didn’t send Trevor packing, as he pulled up the chair next to Jay. He humoured him as best as he could, but it wasn’t resulting in the alone time to just forget about it like he wanted. Trevor wasn’t taking the lack of response lying down, either.
“Come on dude, stop giving me the cold shoulder.”
He leaned in to Jay’s ear, his breath on Jay’s neck. It was disgusting.
“Would it help if I took my shirt off?”
That blushing was there again, as Jay could only look at Trevor like he’d just been punched in the face.
“What’d you just say?”
“Hey, I saw you yesterday, staring at Dan.” Trevor was still whispering, but to Jay it was as if the entire cafeteria could hear, and were now staring at him with popcorn in hand. His face grew hotter by the minute. “Didn’t know you were like that.”
His hand tightened into a fist, and if there’d been a second longer he would’ve decked Trevor there and then. Years of working on his anger had served some merit though, giving Jay enough restraint to get up and grab his bag instead. As much as he wanted to kick Trevor’s ass, he was too humiliated to stay.
He only managed a few steps before Trevor opened his big damn mouth again.
“Aw, running off to meet up with your BOYFRIEND?”
There was that brief moment, hovering in the eye of the storm, as Jay weighed his options.
Then Trevor was on the floor.
Jay had blindsided him with a solid tackle, and in an instant a circle gathered as the two swung their fists at each other. The fight didn't last long, the two soon pulled apart, bruised and bloodied, but the message had been made, loud and clear:
Jay Harland wasn’t like that. Don’t you even fucking joke about it.
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