Colton grinned, slightly embarrassed, his cheeks warming. “Well, yes…you’re right. I do that alone, but you know that’s not what I meant.”
“I know, I’m just messing with you. But really, it’s cool. I’m comfortable doing things alone. And, I have that whole box to myself!” Dean reached his hands up and behind his head as if he was reclining. “Going to spread out and enjoy the game in the comfort of my private suite.”
“Alright, I need to get back to it.” Colton sighed, wishing he could talk to Dean a little longer. He didn’t know why, but Dean made him smile and laugh, even at silly little things.
Dean took a slight step back and playfully pointed at Colton, tilting his head. “My first game…I expect a win.”
Colton smiled again as Dean continued to tease.
“My first game…so you best get at least 200 yards rushing, or I’m gonna be pissed.”
Colton scoffed, “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Dean waved and walked toward the stands, and Colton turned back toward the field, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
Back in the locker room, Colton mentally prepared for the game, sitting in front of his locker. His mind drifted back to Dean, sitting in his private suite all alone. It made him a little sad.
But he wondered, could he ever do something like that? Could he ever go to dinner alone? Could he ever go to a movie alone? Could he ever go to a football or basketball game alone? He didn’t think he could.
A wave of melancholy washed over him as he thought about Dean all alone.
Then he snapped back to reality.
“Merrick! Get your head out of your ass! Let’s go!”
“Yes, Coach!” And Colton took the field.
***
Dean
Dean arrived at his suite and took a moment to settle before really allowing himself to take it all in. It was one of the smaller suites, but no less luxurious or extravagant. There were plush red and gold swivel chairs and small round tables for standing and conversation. The walls were a deep red, with gold sconces highlighting historic photographs and artwork from Niners years gone by. There was a fully stocked bar, with liquor, beer, and wine, along with a huge table spread with food…meats, cheeses, chips, dips, sweets; typical game day food.
I should have requested healthier options. But hey, when in Rome.
He made himself a plate of food, grabbed a bottle of wine, and dropped into one of the comfy swivel chairs. He thought back to his conversation with Colton on the sideline.
Gah, he looked even hotter in his uniform in person! What, with his beautiful, curvy biceps barely contained under the sleeves of his jersey. He'd been wearing the white uniform pants, nice and tight, and Dean could clearly see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric, snaking toward his left inner thigh. A fucking beautiful sight. And that ass wrapped tight in spandex when he turned around to walk away? Praise and hallelujah!
This is going to be a good day, he thought as he settled back in his chair with his glass of wine, ready to watch Colton and his perfect ass do their thing.
By halftime, it was clear that Colton was having aday! He was averaging fourteen yards per carry, with twelve carries! The game was pretty exciting, so Dean had ended up standing at the window for most of the first half. He swore he saw Colton looking up at the suite windows after some plays. Was he looking for him? Dean did wave to him a few times, but he had no idea if he saw him or not.
He loaded up on more junk food and more wine and plopped back into his comfy seat. He could feel himself tense up each time Colton touched the ball, nervous that he might get hurt and excited to see what he could do.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions, and Dean’s stomach was in knots by the end of the game.
The best part was, it was definitely a lot more fun watching the game live instead of on TV! You could see soooo much more definition in those tight pants in person. TV didn’t do all those butts and bulges justice! Dean estimated he would need to become a regular at these games to get his weekly fill of all that masculine muscle.
Sipping his glass of wine, Dean had the passing thought that it would be nice if there were people watching with him, but he had no problem being alone.
He’d been alone for so long at that point, he was used to it.
He came out to what he thought were his loving parents when he was sixteen. After he told them he was gay, they stared at him for a few moments, quoted a few bible verses, then kicked him out of the house and disowned him. He’d been on his own ever since. It had been ten years and he hadn't spoken to either of his parents again.
The trauma of that moment still haunted him in moments of weakness or fragility. The disbelief that his own mother and father would toss him into the streets, simply for liking boys instead of girls. The hurt, anguish, and anger at their actions, while claiming to be good Christian people. How could an old book make his parents simply toss him to the curb without a second thought or any care for his wellbeing? And the struggle Dean had to endure, trying to make his way on his own at sixteen years old in rural Georgia!
The realization that, if his own parents couldn’t love him, no one else would either. He had convinced himself that he wouldnever find true love, a partner to share his life with. If his parents didn’t love him, what sort of monstrous person was he? So unlovable, so loathsome that no one would even consider sharing their life with him.
He threw himself into his work, his music, and resigned himself to the love of his fans. He knew his fans loved him, albeit a superficial love, half love, fan love. Not true love. But it was better than nothing and it kept him from wallowing in loneliness.
