Quite the opposite, in fact. Negative territory. Although negative territory would go down, right? And down is actually what I want, isn’t it?
My thoughts go wild all over the place as I watch Louis change as inconspicuously as possible.
Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. I know it myself, it’s notokay, I’m not proud of myself. And I give up. I pull on my hoodie and my sweatpants, throw my bag over my shoulder, and head outside.
“Hey, aren’t you coming upstairs?” Louis asks. Yeah, we usually sit together after the games and order pizza, but nope, I don’t think that’s possible for me today. Not without making a complete fool of myself.
“Next time, I kind of have a headache.” I sound like my mother, and I roll my eyes at myself.
Warm water runs down my back as I scrub down myself thoroughly. I’m still hard. My cock looks up at me, almost angry red, begging for the attention it thinks it deserves.
I’m alone. It’s not a big deal if I jerk off, right? No one has to know, no one ever has to know how hard Louis makes me.
His image is back immediately and everything inside me tenses up, absolutely everything. I jerk off fast and rough as I let my imagination finally run wild and I come hard. My legs give way, and I sink down against the tile wall.
Shit, I’m so fucked.
Chapter 6
Louis
17 years
What a fucking rookie mistake. I could slap myself. That’s never happened to me before, and then today of all days, with the score so close. I’m still lying on the floor, and the base of my thumb already starts to swell.
On a normal day, I’m perfectly capable of rolling over without injuring myself when I’m fouled. Not today. Do you know that emoji where the little guy slaps his forehead with his flat hand? That’s me.
“Hey, what happened?” David crouches down next to me, his left hand on my biceps, his right on my hip, and for a brief momentI forget the stabbing pain in my hand. His touch burns through my jersey, through my skin, a fire spreading through my body, setting every single nerve cell ablaze. Our eyes meet, and I see the panic in his beautiful green orbs, his dilated pupils that have pushed the small golden ring inside his iris to the edge, making his eyes darker than usual. His hand leaves my hip, and I don’t think he’s aware of what he’s doing or where he is as he brushes a strand of hair from my forehead.
“It’s okay. I just bent my thumb the wrong way when I rolled over.” To prove it, I sit up and hold my left hand in his direction.
“Shit. You can’t keep playing like that.” He might have a point.
As expected, the coach benches me immediately and I watch with a cool pack on my thumb as the opposing team tears us apart the last seven minutes of the first half. I have to go back in; there’s no way around it if we want to win this game. David seems completely lost; I’ve never seen him so helpless on the court before.
When the referee blows the whistle, I follow my team into the locker room, reach into my bag, and throw a small blue roll at David’s chest. “Can you tape me?”
“You’re injured; you can’t go back.” David looks at me blankly.
“But you guys can’t manage without me.” I whisper, not wanting to sound arrogant in front of the others, but it’s not even an exaggeration.
“Louis, I...” Indecisively he plays with the tape roll in his hand. “What if we make it worse?” His gaze pierces me, penetrates me deep inside, and I feel like he can see things I’d rather keep to myself.
“It’s a capsule injury. Can you tape me up now, or not?” I ask again emphatically, standing close in front of him. So close that I can feel his breath on my cheek and smell the scent of his sweat. Ah, fuck, I like the way he smells when he’s giving his all, when he’s putting his heart and soul into this game that we both love so much.
“Sit down.”
He knows what he’s doing, I can tell by the way he tears off each individual strip and stretches it over my swollen joint. I follow his every move, watching as his strong hands reach for mine tenderly. I’m not imagining it. I’ve been taped by teammates many times before. Never like this. Never has my heart beaten so fast, never have I been looked at like this, never have I had goosebumps all over my body. Never has it been so quiet and yet so loud when someone touched me.
The world stands still for a moment, the voices around us fade out, and then there is only us. Louis and David. Him and me. It’s new and exciting, and it scares me because I’ve never felt this way about another boy before, not this strongly.
What if I’m just imagining all this? The looks during practice, the touches, maybe I’m misunderstanding it all and... my hand is in David’s, and he tenderly strokes his thumb over his tape. No, you don’t just do that, you only do that when... when you want to touch someone.
As soon as I’m back on the court, our magic is back. Everything flows, every pass finds its aim, and we play as if our opponents are just background actors irrelevant to what’s happening between us. Yes, my thumb hurts like hell, but the adrenaline and euphoria of being part of this magic make it bearable.
David beams a little more after every goal. My heart is pounding from the exertion but also because of him, and Idare to believe he feels the same way. But how can I find out? How, without making a complete fool of myself if he doesn’t?
Chapter 7
