Chapter Eight
“Atlanta’s got a great lineup. Real power hitters, and their bats were swinging tonight.”
A reporter called out, “You have one of the best records so far this season in the league. Many people are pegging you as a strong contender for Rookie of the Year. How does it feel when the closer blows the save and you don’t get the W?”
Nico robotically answered, “We win and lose as a team. Mura’s a fantastic closer, and it just wasn’t his night. But the great thing about baseball is that we get to do it all again tomorrow and give it a hundred and ten percent.”
“Nico, you’re not angry?”
“No.”
Another voice said, “You seemed pretty angry in the dugout. Do you—”
“No,” he insisted.
There were a few other questions, and Nico stuck to clichés and one-word answers. He genuinely didn’t care anymore that he’d lost. How could he concentrate on baseball after that?
I sucked a guy’s dick. I actually fucking did it.
And not just any guy. He was acutely aware of Jake nearby answering questions and giving the required answers. Jake didn’t seem flustered in the slightest. He smiled, affable and open, and gave the media the comments they liked. It was like he spanked pitchers every day—no big thing.
Desire and queasy confusion simmering through him, threatening to blow, Nico backed away from the press scrum and escaped into the bathroom area of the locker room, where no media was permitted. His dick was still half-hard in his jock, and thank God for the cup so his uniform wasn’t tented.
By the sinks, he turned his back on the mirrors and leaned against the counter.
I sucked Jake’s dick and he let me.
And it had been better than Nico had ever imagined. The earthy taste, the way Jake’s shaft had throbbed and filled in his mouth, stretching his lips. Those nights he’d fantasized or broken down and allowed himself to watch gay porn, he’d never imagined it could be so…what?
He knew it would be good, that it would turn him on. He’d had sex with women and knew what it was like to be touched, to get sweaty and intimate, to get a blow job.
But he hadn’t suspected the sensation that would overpower him once he took a cock into his mouth would be belonging.
It thrummed through him now like a heartbeat, the certainty that this part of him had been a missing piece, a phantom limb. Having Jake’s cock in his mouth, pubes brushing his nose, musky sweat filling his senses, swallowing cum—Nico relived every detail.
As he did, his dick swelled. Especially when he thought about the sting on his ass when Jake had hit him.
Leaning against the counter, his ass smarted, like he’d slipped on ice and landed on his butt. It probably wouldn’t bruise or anything. But pushing back on the edge of the Formica, Nico wished it would.
How fucking weird is that? I’m such a loser.
He should have been outraged, furious. But when he’d been splayed over Jake’s lap, Jake holding him, overpowering him, Nico had experienced the strangest release. The constant worry, the doubts that nagged at him morning to night, were eclipsed.
In those moments, he hadn’t been in control, and letting go had been like riding a rollercoaster, air rushing in his face, fear and exhilaration too close to tell apart, pain spurring on jolts of pleasure.
He’d simply reacted after, reaching for Jake before his brain could order him not to.
And now what was Jake thinking? Surely he regretted it. Probably thought Nico was even more of a freak than he already did. Because Nico was pretty sure he could have come just from being spanked, and he wondered what the smack of Jake’s hand would feel like against his bare skin.
Throat dry, his breath came faster. How red would his skin get? How hot would it feel? How much would it hurt? Would Jake like it too? Had he gotten off on spanking Nico tonight? Was he actually gay?
Is he like me?
Nico pushed away the fluttery, warm rush of hope. Jake had let Nico blow him, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Sure, his dick had sprung up half-hard when Nico freed it. Could have been from the adrenaline rush.
“Agresta, you here?” One of the assistant managers poked his head in. “Skip wants to see you in his office.”
Afraid he’d only squeak if he tried to talk, Nico nodded and hurried through the locker room and down the hall, surreptitiously adjusting his cup and commanding his dick to settle down.
The rest of the team were probably in the lounge, and he didn’t pass anyone as he went. Maybe he’d missed Jake or—
Or maybe Jake had been called to Skip’s office too. Nico skidded to a stop in the doorway, his cleats digging into the carpet.
Skip sat at his desk, chomping gum like usual. “Close the door, son.” The phone rang, and he glanced at the screen before answering it with a “Yeah?”
Oh fuck. Does he know? Did someone see us?
Nico felt like a kid being called to the principal’s office, and he cut a glance at Jake standing there like he wasn’t bothered, his steady gaze on Skip.
Nico pulled the door shut and stood a few feet away from Jake, his heart thundering as Skip listened to whoever was on the phone, tapping his desk with a pencil.
Nico fidgeted, looking everywhere but at Jake: couch, fridge, closet, bulletin board covered in reports and lineups, Skip’s scrawl in some of the margins.
Framed pictures of Skip from his playing days decorated the walls, and Nico examined the one over the couch featuring Skip in trademark flight, firing the ball to first with both his feet off the ground.
Crack!
Jumping, he jerked his gaze back to Skip, who leaned back in his chair, phone call apparently over. He blew another bubble.
“Nico, I know you were disappointed not to get the win tonight. I was disappointed. We all were. Mura too. Now I know you and Fitz disappeared for a bit there, and maybe you already had this convo. But I want to make sure we always put on our best face to the public, and that we always support our teammates. Blown saves aren’t a day at the beach for any of us. ”
Nico nodded, his throat like a desert. He croaked, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Good, good.” Skip nodded and pushed back his chair.
“I can see improvement in you since Fitz came aboard. You’ve shown more patience and control on the mound.
Sometimes, that is. Keep it up and make it more of the time.
Make sure it extends to the dugout too. I don’t want to see another hissy fit.
You’re a hell of a talent, but I’ll bust you down to triple-A so fast your head will spin.
Okay? Good. I’m going to get some chow. If you need more postgame analysis, there’s beer in the fridge.
” With another smack of his gum, he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
“Jesus,” Jake muttered, pacing and rubbing his palms over his face before dropping his hands to his sides. “Are you okay?”
Nico had no idea how to answer, so he nodded.
“I can’t believe that happened. I can’t believe I did that.”
The tips of Nico’s ears went hot, and he shifted from foot to foot, pretty sure he was going to puke Gatorade all over Skip’s carpet. Questions ricocheted around his brain.
Is Jake into guys? What if he just didn’t say no to getting blown? What if he tells everyone I’m a faggot?
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Jake looked at him with clear concern shining from his blue eyes.
That’s what he was worried about? After Nico just got on his knees and sucked him off? Well, at least it seemed like Nico wouldn’t get punched for crossing the line.
“I know talking’s not your best event, but can you please say something?” Jake’s brows were knit together and he stepped closer. “Seriously, did I hurt you? God, I was completely out of line.”
“No,” Nico croaked. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. Good. Do you want to say anything to me?”
Too many things to know where to begin, so Nico shook his head.
Jake exhaled noisily, keeping his voice low. “Come on. I spanked you, and then we—” He rubbed his face. “Can you please tell me what you’re thinking? Because I have zero idea.”
Nico captured one of the questions whipping around his mind like a hurricane. “Have you done that before?”
“Not like that. Never at work. Never in anger.”
So Jake was talking about hitting him, but it still wasn’t clear about the rest. “Are you—I mean, when I… You didn’t…”
Jake’s forehead creased. “Are you asking if I’m gay? Yes, I am.”
Holy. Fuckballs. Jake Fitzgerald was actually gay. I’m not the only one. And of all people, it was Jake who was like him. Nico could only stand there staring at him mutely.
His expression soft and voice low as if he was holding out sugar cubes to a jittery horse, Jake asked, “Are you?”
Even with the rush of relief that he wasn’t alone, a knee-jerk no still hovered on Nico’s tongue. Looking into those eyes he’d fantasized about for years, he swallowed thickly. “I don’t know.” Heart tripping too fast and head too light, he added, “Maybe.”
Nico’s knees trembled and he really was close to vomiting, those barely whispered syllables loud as a gunshot to his ears, so close to the YES he should have shouted but was still caught inside him, its barbed hook wedged deep. “But I’ve never…”
Jake watched him seriously, stepping closer, tantalizingly within reach. “That was your first time?”
“I mean, I’m not some virgin.” His cheeks flushed hot with a fresh wave of humiliation. “I’ve banged plenty of chicks.”
“But it was your first time with a man?”
Nico nodded, twitching his fingers restlessly.
“Wow. I thought you seemed a bit… But I didn’t think…”
Nico dropped his head and stared at the scuffed tips of his cleats. “Sorry.” It was probably the worst BJ of Jake’s life.
“No, that’s not—” Jake’s feet came into view, and his big palm covered Nico’s shoulder, sending a shiver through him. “That wasn’t a complaint.” He gently tipped up Nico’s chin, his eyes kind. “You were great. Okay? I just would never have—it was fucked up, and that’s totally on me.”