Ruthlessly His (5 page)

“Leo,” I sigh. “You know how I feel about you. But I can’t be seen in public—”

“You can’t be seen doing what? Letting another man touch you? People would think we’re friends. I’m not flamboyant.”

“I don’t want to argue,” I say. “You’re getting the wrong idea.”

“Do you want to go?” he asks.

“Of course not. I’m really enjoying myself.”

“Well, you’ll need to leave soon to catch the train, I’m sure,” Leo looks back at me.

I tilt my head at him. I say, “I thought I might stay in the city tonight.”

“Whereabouts?” he asks, playing hard to get.

“I was hoping you might help me with that,” I say.

“I don’t know any places,” he says, still annoyed.

“I was hoping to sleep at yours, you moron.”

He smirks as though he's pissed, but I notice the flesh on his soft cheeks turns a bit red. “Oh, sure. I can probably make that happen.” Like I said, I like the wrestle.

After another few rounds of drinks, we walk back to Leo’s flat. It gets dark enough that I feel okay about holding his hand. We’re both sleepy-drunk, a bit uneasy on our feet after a long day.

We take the stairs up and stumble through his door. Leo falls right onto his bed and doesn’t move. “Are you asleep?” I ask, and then poke him.

“I am pretty much asleep, yes,” he mumbles, and then after a minute, starts breathing deeply. I undo his shoes and pull off his socks and jeans. He fumbles with his shirt buttons in his half-sleep state. I roll him over and take it off. His stomach is muscled but soft to the touch somehow.

Leo’s bathroom is neat. I borrow some mouthwash and look at myself in the mirror. I haven’t stayed at someone’s house after a date in a long time. I’m not sure what to do, so I get undressed and spoon Leo. He rolls over and nuzzles his head into my neck. I put my arms around him and think: how the hell is this relationship going to work?

* * *

It’s morning and Leo is still asleep. I’m standing in the kitchenette. To my left is a wall filled with polaroids of Leo and his friends making goofy faces. In front of me is a beautiful sleeping Leo. He’s on his stomach on the bed, spread out like a skydiver. He moves around a lot at night. The back of his blonde hair is messy and the duvet isn’t covering anything below his hips—so his little plump ass is just sitting there. Two pink peaches, hiding the perfect asshole. I don’t know what he does to it. He says he bleaches it, whatever that means. When revealed, it looks like a small pink asterisk. And when he’s horny enough, it stretches open for my cock.

I head over to the bed and start biting his ass. Just hard enough to leave little marks. He groans and flips over. I kiss his stomach. It tickles him and he jumps, falling off the bed. “Fuck,” he says.

“You okay?”

“Is my elbow broken?” he asks, showing me his non-hurt elbow.

“You’re being dramatic,” I say.

We head out to find somewhere to eat breakfast. I tell him ahead of time that the bill will be on me. He doesn’t like it when I pay for things, but I force him to oblige. Leo rolls his eyes at me as I gear up before we head down the street. “Do you have to?” Leo asks, referring to the fact that I'm wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.

“I’ve told you that even single coaches are rare in my league, let alone non-straight ones.”

“You keep saying stuff like that.”

“Then why won’t you accept that I'm doing the best I fucking can given this situation?” I say back to him.

Leo shakes his head. "This situation?"

I press my lips together and cusp his shoulders. "Can we please just get some food?" Somehow, that works.

For now.

We sit down and order Mexican egg burritos—which are as unhealthy as they sound but tasty as hell. Leo has his camera with him, and he’s taking photographs down the street of the sun coming up. Under the table, he rubs his leg up and down my thigh. I push his leg away. He shoots me a look. “You know the rules,” I say. “Nothing in public.”

“It’s boring though,” he says, and I frown at him.

“Eat your eggs,” I say.

Breakfast ends quickly after that.

We go to Central Park for a walk. Leo brushes his hand against mine about twice a minute—making it mighty clear he wants to be holding it. I don’t think he believes that I want the same thing. There’s just the family-man-issue. There’s a certain image that I’ve cultivated over the years. It’s been boring and hard work. It’s been tough avoiding the occasional sweet-treat that guys like Leo represent. Leo is more than that though. He’s a skyscraper-size candy bar that I adore chewing on.

Leo is
poutier today. The park is sunny and smells like dew. A football bounces onto the path in front of us. Some guys are playing a touch pickup game over on the grass. One of them jogs up to me and says, “Pass it here, old man.” I pick up the ball and spear it through the air to the furthest guy in their group. I should be keeping it low-key and not showing off but ‘old man?’ come on. The guy who said it says, “Woah. Hold on a second. I know you.” I nudge Leo and start fast walking. The guy jogs up to me, says, “You’re Coach Smith, right? I knew I recognized you. You coach the… the—don’t tell me. The Jaguars?”

“I get that a lot,” I say. “I just look like him.” I pull my cap down further. The guy shrugs, probably wondering why I’m lying badly, and then runs off yelling to his friends. “That was close,” I tell Leo.

I don’t think Leo likes people recognizing me. “Whatever,” Leo says. “What was close? Some dude recognizing you? What’s so harmful about us taking a walk in Central Park?”

“What if he saw us kissing?” I ask.

Leo doesn’t reply. He comes with me down to Penn Station.

It’s busy. Commuters are crowding around waiting to get on their trains. “Why don’t you want the world to know?” Leo asks me. “About your sexuality.”

“It’s not that I don’t I want to be myself,” I say.

“Yeah, right.”

“—
but I’d lose my job. Look, if I’m not a coach, I don’t know what I am,” I say.

My train comes in. People are milling around us, aiming to get on first to grab a good seat. I take a risk. I look Leo in the eyes and then give him a quick hard kiss. He smiles at me. I get on the train and he’s looking at me through the window. He says something that I don’t hear. We start pulling away. I don’t think my kiss was enough to prove what he means to me. There’s something real between us. I know he feels it too, he’s said so. It’s primal. When our bodies are touching, my body aches for him—it wants more even though it can’t get more. When my cock is all the way inside, and my arms are wrapped around his body, I want to melt into him.

* * *

The sky is cloudy and low this morning. I drive my truck to the University for our first training day. My back aches. I slept on the downstairs couch last night. Nancy and I refuse to share a bed. She thinks we can keep going like this but there’s someone else I want to build a new home with—but Leo is probably getting fed up with how I’ve been acting in public. It’s okay when we’re in bed together, all of the bad stuff drifts away, but how long will this set-up really last before we implode?

The training day gets underway as it starts to rain lightly. I oversee the assistant coaches running drills, and I have some field-meetings with the scouts. The sun bursts out of the clouds at midday and then slowly retreats back until nightfall.

I drive home real slow. I need to make some kind of a gesture to Leo, to show him that I’m not ashamed of us—because, really, that’s not the reason for my wariness.
Leo texts me.

>
hey there Colt-y. How’s your day been?

>
it’s been long. Can I take you out to dinner tonight, lateish?

Leo doesn’t reply for a few minutes,
then he says,

>
sure.

He’s probably thinking that I’ll take us to a small hidden restaurant. He couldn’t be more wrong.

After a long day, and a longer train ride, I would normally be ready to watch
SportsCenter and pass out on the couch—but here I stand, in a sports jacket and slacks. I’m outside Leo’s flat, and he doesn’t know where we’re going.

Leo turns up looking his usual trendy, pretty self. I take his hand and lead him downtown to Broadway. I stop us outside a busy sushi restaurant. "Does this place work for you?” I say, winking at Leo.

“In front of all these people?” Leo asks, grinning. I did my research. This place has amazing reviews. Plus, I used to coach the owner’s son, so I scored us a reservation.

“That’s right,” I say. “I want to eat in front of everyone.” If only my strong outer facade matched my shaky inner feelings.

We sit down and order a seaweed salad and some mixed starters. Leo looks out the window and then says, “When I finally came out to my parents, one of the things they said to me was to never be ashamed of myself.”

“That’s great,” I say. “Your parents sound very supportive.”

“
Mmm.” He plays with his food. “I feel something for you, Colt. Like, strong feelings. But I don’t like having to hide.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” I ask honestly.

“I don’t know. I’m not
gonna pretend that I know what it’s like for you,” he says.

I reach over and squeeze his hand. “I’m trying,” I say.

“I know. I know. And when you do end up doing stuff in public, it actually really excites me. I got so comfortable with myself that this relationship makes me feel, like, taboo. If you get me.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, part of me, as you know, is frustrated that we can’t hug and kiss in public—but the other half of me thinks this relationship is like, dirty and wrong, and hot. Like, we’re not supposed to be together.” Leo gives me his bedroom eyes and I just know he got a little hard saying all of that. “But that’s not really a good base for a real-life relationship.”

“So it’s good and bad, I can live with that.”

“I’m not saying I can live with it. I’m just saying, for now, it’s manageable,” he says.

“I don’t want anything to stop us.”

“Those words are easy to say,” he says.

“How can I prove it to you?” I ask.

“What if I wanted to go to the bathroom with you and have sex right now? Like, would that be a problem for you? Two guys going to the bathroom together?”

“Guys go to the bathroom together sometimes. Is that something you want to do?”

“
Kinda,” he says. “It was just an example,” Leo says, looking down at his food and biting his lip a little. I know what he wants.

“So if I walked you to the bathroom right now and took my cock out for you, you’d be happy?” I say, and Leo smiles for a second and then hides it. He looks a little cross too.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I think I just confused myself.”

“You can’t stop thinking about my cock once you start, can you?” I say.

Leo brushes his hair back and moves around in his seat. “Stop teasing me when you can’t back it up.”

“Leo, if you don’t think I will walk you to this bathroom and undo my pants in front of you, then you are very much mistaken,” I say, and look around for the first time. I don’t think anyone is listening to us flirt. And even if people were, this is a risk I need to take—for Leo and for my balls, which are feeling awfully full at the moment.

“You wouldn't risk it. You’re too scared of people finding out,” he says.

“I don’t think you’ve got me figured out,” I say. “Your cute little ass does some crazy things to me, and right now,” I look down at my bulging crotch. “Your body is sounding very appealing.”

“Look,” he says, a little angry. “I want to have a serious conversation about us.”

“You like getting fucked,” I say. “And I like fucking you. If we have to keep our dating a secret for a little while then that’s what we’re going to do.”

Leo shuffles down in his seat and reaches under the table to feel at my pants. “Jesus,” he says, and sits back up. “I’m trying to have a real talk about this, and, and—”

“And what?”

“—
and you’ve got that in your pants.”

“This is always in my pants,” I say. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Fuck you,” he whispers, flustered. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

“You’re important to me. Why can’t you see that?” I say.

Leo takes out his camera and takes a picture of me. “I like it when you’re passionate.”

I roll my eyes a little and smile back. “This isn’t solved,” he says. “I don’t think we’ll work out.”

“I’m happy right now. And I’ll fight for you,” I say.

After we finish our plate of Salmon
Nigiri, Leo says, “I’m going to the bathroom,” putting emphasis on the end of his sentence, and after a few minutes of him not returning, I get the gist.

The Japanese-themed bathrooms are spacious and clean. Leo is looking at himself in the mirror, and there’s no one else in here. Leo nods his head towards one of the large, bathroom stalls inside of high-end, Manhattan sushi bar, and we go in. He starts to nibble and suck on my neck, but I'm not ready to give in just yet. “What are you doing?” I ask.