Kellan tries to tug his hand away, but I tighten my grip. We went on a date, and I want to hold Kellan’s hand. There’s no rule saying we can’t date players on the team. So long as I don’t treat Kellan differently from anyone else, it shouldn’t be a problem.
Kellan gives up trying to disentangle himself and sighs. The announcer states the race will begin in two minutes.
“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you two here.” Sebastian flashes his teeth, gaze keen. He’s dressed similarly to me, and Aidan is dressed nicely as well, though the clothes aren’t as fitted. His eyes look overly large behind his glasses. Sebastian once told me his boyfriend looked like a young Jude Law, and I have to say, I agree. Not my type, but attractive in a nerdy way.
“Oh, just having a night on the town,” I say. Kellan is quiet.
“I see. Like, say, a date?”
“Yes,” Kellan hisses out, lips tight. “A date.”
Holding up his hands, Sebastian says, “Hey, just trying to make conversation. That’s cool. I’m glad you finally went for it.”
Kellan sighs and rubs his forehead, muttering under his breath. That only makes Sebastian grin wider.
Aidan shifts from foot to foot. His hands are buried in his coat pockets, shoulders lifted up to his ears. Every time he looks around, his eyes end up on the ground. A safe place, one with no body parts on display.
Looping an arm around his boyfriend’s neck, Sebastian whispers something in Aidan’s ear, and the man goes as red as a tomato. “Later,” he squeaks.
“Don’t know why people think it’s a good idea to run without clothes on in the middle of winter,” Kellan mutters, looking around.
Sebastian waggles his eyebrows, then spies a nearby telephone pole. Consideration crosses his face. “You know, I’ve always wondered. If I touch my dick to the metal pole, will it stick?”
I can’t help it. I laugh. It’s too ridiculous of an image. My first guess is that Sebastian’s been drinking, but I know he quit months ago and hasn’t had a drink since. He truly is that ridiculous.
My laughter draws the attention of the runners standing in our vicinity. One look at Sebastian, and they turn their attention to him instead. Notre Dame’s beloved striker.
“It’s a terrible idea,” Kellan deadpans. Something passes between the brothers. “You should definitely do it.”
Sebastian, as if surprised his brother would suggest something like that—though I don’t know why, Kellan always has dumb ideas—laughs, though it’s strained. He looks to the pole, people milling around it. Then he looks to the front of his pants. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back a smile. Knowing Sebastian, he would do something like this to spite his brother. Kellan, knowing that, takes full advantage of it.
Aidan says, “Frost bite.”
Sebastian blanches. His curls bounce as he runs a hand through them. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Not a good idea.”
Next to me, Kellan snorts. “Should have known you’d be too chicken shit.”
No surprise from anyone, Sebastian clenches his jaw, stands straighter, as if readying himself for the task. Tell a man he can’t fly, and he’ll spend the rest of his life building wings.
“On second thought,” Sebastian says, “I’ve changed my mind.”
Aidan rolls his eyes.
Then the bastard whips out his dick like it’s no big deal. A few girls in running gear squeal in surprise, their eyes round and locked on the object of interest. A few guys do the same. I forget who I’m standing next to. Sebastian Dumont. He’s the star of the team, as much as I like to pretend otherwise. Wherever he goes, people follow.
Someone snaps a photo. Suddenly, everyone has their phone out, trying to get a good view.
The announcer begins the countdown.
“This is going to end horribly,” I say to Kellan as we watch Sebastian move toward the pole, all the while Aidan begs him to reconsider. The man just kisses his boyfriend to mollify him, and Aidan tosses up his hands in frustration.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven—”
“You seeing this, N—er, Kellan?” he calls over his shoulder. A few inches separate his dick from the metal pole. The light shines down on him, darkening the hollows of his raw-boned face. His eyes burn brilliantly.
“Oh yeah,” he says, full of amusement. He crosses his arms, and I tug him against my side, because that’s where I like Kellan best: with me.
Tilting up his head, he smiles at me. I’m struck speechless. The darkness of his eyes is the only thing I see. “This is going to be good,” he says. “You should take a video.”
