Brett's New Game Plan

Chapter 2

The game had been close. Brett’s team snatched a last-second victory, and Clay managed to snap out of his earlier melancholy, helped no doubt by Brett’s invitation to come over for a post-game feast.

“Wow, that interception in the final few seconds,” Colton enthused, offering Clay another slice of key lime pie. “Man, it stopped him from scoring. And that would have won them the game! Talk about poetry in motion.”

Clay accepted the pie. “Yeah, even Coach admitted we completed our assignments satisfactorily.” He snorted. Coach was a hard-ass and rarely gave out unqualified praise.

Brett was tired and achy. He’d taken a few hard knocks during the game. Stifling a yawn, he tried to keep up with the conversation.

“Looks like you could use an early night, son,” Colton said.

“Yeah.” The next yawn managed to escape.

“I better get going.” Clay got to his feet, but Brett could tell he did so reluctantly. “Coach said we should all get an early night.”

Clay’s family hadn’t yet passed over and, as far as Brett knew, Clay didn’t have many friends in Heaven. Again Brett felt guilty at his earlier neglect.

“You can bunk down in my room, if you want,” Brett surprised himself by saying. “Um, it’s a huge bed, there’s plenty of room.”

Clay’s face was a study in contrasting emotions. First came shock, quickly followed by delight, then a flash of lust, before Clay’s usual mask of laidback friendliness was restored. “Ah, that’s real kind of you, but I don’t have my toothbrush with me and…”

Brett was relieved.

“We have spares,” Dennis piped up.

“Uh, thanks, I—”

“And you’re about my size,” Colton put in, “so we’ll be able to provide you with clean underwear.”

Brett felt trapped. But he could hardly say anything; it had been his idea to ask Clay to stay.

“Thank you,” Clay said to everyone.

“Uh, right, then.” Brett knew he couldn’t put off going to bed as he’d just admitted to feeling tired. “Guess we ought to, uh, say goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” both dads said, Dennis giving Brett a hug, and Colton squeezing his shoulder.

“It’s this way.” Brett turned into the hallway and didn’t look to see if Clay followed.

“Man, you’re so lucky—your dads are great,” Clay enthused. “And Colton’s such a stud.”

Brett guessed he was, but Colton was his dad, sort of, and yuck, Brett didn’t want to go there.

“Wow, awesome!” Clay said on entering Brett’s room.

“Yeah.” Brett knew he was sounding unenthusiastic. He hoped Clay would put it down to his tiredness.

“You’re so lucky,” Clay repeated.

Brett nodded. He knew he was.

“And Gavin’s a lucky guy to have someone as awesome as you waiting for him.”

Brett looked up.

Clay smiled. “It’s okay. I wish,” he swallowed, “I wish you and me could be, like, boyfriends…and more, but, like, I know you can’t ’cause of Gavin and…”

“Oh, dude.” Brett stepped over to his friend, pulled the big athlete into his arms, and hugged him tight. “I’m sorry. You’re a f*****g amazing friend. I’m sorry for distancing myself like I did. I was wrong to do that.” Brett slapped Clay’s back. “Forgive me?”

Clay sniffed, gave Brett a final squeeze, then disengaged. “Course I forgive you. When you love someone, you forgive them.”

Brett was surprised to hear his friend being so honest about his feelings. It made Brett feel guiltier for his past neglect.

“I know I shouldn’t love you, ’cause you can’t love me in the same way back, but…” Clay swiped at his eyes with a hand. “You can’t help who you love.”

An image of a naked Gavin in the hay loft on Gavin’s dad’s farm the evening of their high school graduation flashed into Brett’s mind. He sighed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Listen, dude, I need to take care of business, uh, you know…in the bathroom.”

Brett looked down at Clay’s crotch and saw a big bulge. “It’s through there.” Brett pointed to a door behind Clay.

“Oh, man,” Clay said from the other room. “Your own bathroom. You really lucked out.”

Brett nodded, even though he knew Clay couldn’t see him through the now closed door.

Brett decided to get undressed. Given that he wouldn’t be sleeping alone, he thought about putting on pajamas but wasn’t even sure if he had any. No, he’d just wear boxers as usual.

A few minutes late, Clay emerged, stripped down to his boxers, the rest of his clothes held in his hands.

Brett’s gaze quickly strayed down to between his teammate’s legs. “Feeling more comfortable?”

Clay blushed.

On his way to the bathroom, Brett patted Clay on the shoulder. “Good to have you back, bud.”

* * * *

Brett couldn’t sleep. Judging by the lack of heavy breathing, neither could Clay.

“You awake?” Brett whispered.

“No,” Clay whispered back.

“Asswipe.” Brett gave Clay a slight push.

“You can’t sleep either?” Clay asked.

“It’s a new bed.” Brett knew his response was a half-truth. He was sleeping next to a gorgeous stud who professed to be in love with him. He knew all he had to do was reach out and…

“You still hurting from the game?”

“Yeah. Don’t usually have any aches afterward so dunno why I do this time.”

“Give you a back rub, if you want.”

Brett tensed momentarily, then realized Clay’s offer was made out of genuine concern. “Thanks. Don’t have anything to use, though.” Well, there was a bottle of lube in the bottom drawer of the night stand—he’d seen it earlier, along with a large box of tissues. His dad Dennis’s work, no doubt.

“’S okay, I’ll manage. Where’s it hurt?”

Brett twisted his arm around and pointed.

“Turn over onto your stomach then.”

Brett thought about switching on the bedside light, but there was enough illumination coming in through the partially open drapes for Clay to be able to see what he was doing.

“You do a good back rub,” Brett admitted a short while later when his muscles began to loosen.

“Should do, all the practice I get.” Clay was training to become a physical therapist.

“Just a bit lower.”

Brett felt fingers brush against the top of his ass. “Not that low!”

“Sorry,” Clay snickered. “Couldn’t resist.”

But Clay’s ministrations were doing such a good job of relaxing him, Brett couldn’t work up the energy to become concerned at the slight inappropriateness of the earlier touch.

“Think you’ll be able to sleep now?” Clay whispered a short while later.

“Uh huh,” Brett said, unable to keep his eyes open.

“Good.” Brett felt the ghost of a kiss on the back of his neck before Clay continued, “Need to relieve the pressure again. Back in a minute.”

Brett’s last thought before sleep overcame him was how good a friend Clay was not to push his attraction onto him.