Luckily the coach doesn’t keep them long. The rookies aren’t too shabby out on the field, so he blabs on and on about teamwork while the players sit in the bleachers that frame the basketball court, praying he shuts up soon so they can shower. Cordero and Sean are the only two players on the last level up. Sean leans back, nonchalant, against the tier behind him and lets his fingers play along the small of Cordero’s back. He’s worked Cordero’s shirt up and his skin strums over the rookie’s, a gentle touch to remind them both what’s in store. If only Barrett would let them go…
It seems like an eternity, but the old man finally winds down and tells them he thinks this will be one of their best seasons yet. Funny how he plays that card every year. As the team disbands, Cordero claps a hand o
