Trust

“Hey, Brit, shouldn’t you be watching your boyfriend play?”

Justin Lowe didn’t glance up from the lined notebook he was writing furiously in. The sounds of the full-capacity crowd in the football stadium surrounded him.

“He’s in the red zone,” the man sitting next to him, Rick Driver, said.

It had taken Justin a few years after moving from England to California to get used to American football. It hadn’t made a bit of sense when he was thirteen but now as a freshman in college he actually liked it. Of course it was quite likely because his boyfriend of six months, Brad Callahan, was the quarterback on the team.

Justin closed his notebook and shoved it in his backpack. Sure enough, Brad’s team was close to making a touchdown.

Rick gave him a derisive look. “What are you writing in there, anyway?”

He was jotting down notes about the mystery novel he hoped to have published someday, but he was hardly going to tell that to Rick. He couldn’t stand Rick, but he was Brad’s oldest friend. They’d known each other since kindergarten. Rick went on and on about it every chance he got too. Justin was of the opinion the slim blond man hung around them so much because he was in love with Brad himself. But Rick claimed to be straight.

“Class notes,” he lied.

Rick snorted and mumbled something that might have been “dork” but Justin ignored him.

Brad threw a pass and the cheers in the crowd became deafening when the wide receiver caught it. He ran for the touchdown with only seconds left. Everyone stood, screaming. Justin found himself screaming as well.

* * * *

He and Rick waited at one of the stadium exits for Brad to come. Earlier he’d been surrounded by jubilant teammates.

Justin always felt a jolt of anticipation at seeing Brad after a game. Brad was generally pumped up and as horny as hell.

Brad came around the corner, holding his helmet, his dark hair plastered to his head with sweat, a big happy grin lighting his face.

“All hail the conquering hero!” Rick yelled, and ran to him, embracing him. “Man, you were awesome.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Brad ruffled Rick’s hair affectionately. He smiled at Justin. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. You were awesome. Great game.”

Brad nodded and pulled Justin to him in a brief hug. “I’m going to hit the showers. You guys wait for me in the parking lot out by the cars.”

“Don’t take too long. I’m starving,” Rick announced.

“I saw you eating two hot dogs in the stand,” Brad said. “Anyway, I won’t be long.”

“Sure, but I’m getting something to eat if you are.”

“Okay, okay. See you in a bit.” Brad headed down the path toward the lockers.

* * * *

The game seemed to have ended long ago with the last-minute victory and Justin thought Brad would have should have come outside to the parking lot by now. Rick had left at least a half an hour ago, saying he was fed up waiting and was hungry. The lot was nearly empty save for a handful of cars.

Justin supposed with the victory some of the team might be having an extra celebration. This would put them in an excellent position to be in the playoffs.

He straightened from his position leaning on Brad’s car and walked back to the locker room. The door handle turned easily.

“Brad, are you…”

By his locker, his jeans lowered down to his knees, stood Brad. Kneeling in front of his six-foot-three frame was one of the running backs, Justin forgot his name, working Brad’s hard cock in and out of his mouth.

Brad glanced Justin’s way at that moment.

“Holy fuck!”

Justin’s stomach lurched and he stumbled, dropping down on one knee. His heart squeezed. Bile rose in his throat.

Somehow he was aware of the running back scrambling to his feet, throwing a worried look at Brad and then running out of the locker room. Puffing out heavy breaths, Brad quickly refastened his jeans.

“Justin…I…What are you doing here?” Brad’s dark hair was tousled and his blue eyes were wide with shock and guilt.

“I came looking for you. To-to find out how much longer you were going to be.” Justin shook his head and grabbed for the nearest locker to hoist himself up. “I can’t do this.”

“Wait,” Brad said. He spoke quickly and his words were slightly slurred. Justin could smell the beer on his breath from where he stood. “That wasn’t what you think you saw.”

Justin couldn’t look Brad in the face. Couldn’t see the shame, the flushed cheeks. He turned away. “I have to get out of here.”

“No.” Brad grabbed his arm. “Justin, please I’m telling you that was nothing.”

Justin shrugged Brad’s hand off. “He had your cock in his mouth, Brad.”

Brad made a little noise that was half whimper, half sigh. “I’m sorry. It just happened. We didn’t even get that far.”

If he’d kicked Justin in the stomach it wouldn’t have hurt more. Justin clenched his fists and headed for the door that would allow him to escape the suffocating locker room. If only he could so easily escape the sight of Brad getting a blowjob from his teammate.