Chapter 6
Colton
Sunday. Game day.
Colton arrived at the stadium, walking past the usual corridor of photographers.
Nowadays, NFL players arriving for the game was more of a fashion show than a mere arrival.
There were players that arrived impeccably dressed in designer clothing, players that wore the most crazy, outlandish, and sometimes hideous outfits imaginable, and some players that just didn’t care and came in sweats.
Colton was kind of in the middle. He didn’t really care that much, but he knew he would be photographed, and he needed to look good for his endorsement deals. He didn’t usually wear high-end designer clothes, but he always dressed sharp, and he took a damn good picture.
There was always a large horde of photographers waiting to snap pics of all the players, but when Colton arrived, the clicks and flashes from the cameras were blinding.
At first, he had found it super annoying.
After all, he was here to play football, a sport where men chase a little brown ball around while beating the crap out of each other.
Who cared how he dressed?! But that’s what it had come to…
photographers and fashion before every game.
So he dressed as well as he could, stared straight ahead, and ignored the cameras.
He changed into his gear and headed out to the field. The team usually arrived about two to three hours before the game. That gave them time to warm up for about an hour, then mentally prepare for the game.
Colton was going through his usual warmup, which consisted of sprints, high knees, deep stretches, practice routes, and practice catches and throws.
He stopped for a quick breather and looked to the sideline…
Wait…is that Dean?
Dean stood on the sidelines, dressed in blue-gray slacks, a cream sweater, and a navy pea coat, wearing a Niners beanie and looking very stylish.
He was surrounded by the cheerleaders—of course they’d recognized him—and he was posing for pictures, talking and laughing with them like he had grown up on the sidelines of an NFL stadium. Colton smiled and shook his head.
A gay man, with all that attention from women. It’s no wonder straight men are jealous!
Dean saw Colton looking his way and raised his hand to wave.
Colton was immediately drawn to him, his feet began to move and he trotted over to the sideline to meet him.
Dean was looking downright edible, and Colton caught himself running faster, a big toothy grin splitting his face as he met Dean on the sideline.
“What the fuck are you doing here, man?” Colton asked, still grinning as wide as the field itself. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Dean smiled and bit his lip. “You know, I realized this week, I love watching football, but I’ve never actually been to a game in person.”
Watching Dean bite his lip, damn, little flames flickered up the side of his neck. “You’ve never been to a real NFL game?”
“I’ve never been to a real NFL game. So, I decided to treat myself and come watch you play…surprise!” Dean grinned, making jazz hands.
Colton was still grinning, and he felt a slight burning, accompanied by a mild soreness, in his cheeks.
Am I blushing?
“Well, I hope you have fun. Where are you sitting?”
“I have a box up there,” Dean said, pointing up behind him. “On the forty-five-yard line.”
“Nice seats! Who’s here with you?”
“No one, it’s just me.”
Colton scrunched his forehead. “Wait. You’re here by yourself?”
“Well.” Dean sighed. “It turns out none of my friends like football, even if it entails free box seats and catering.”
Colton smiled. “But it sucks that you’re here by yourself. I would say you could watch with my parents, but they aren’t here this weekend.”
“It’s no big deal. I do things by myself all the time.”
Colton tilted his head slightly to the side, thinking back, reflecting. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything by myself. There’s always at least one other person with me.”
Dean smiled devilishly and lifted one eyebrow. “You beat off by yourself, don’t you?”
Colton grinned, slightly embarrassed, his cheeks warming. “Well, yes…you’re right. I do that alone, but you know that’s not what I meant.”
“I know, I’m just messing with you. But really, it’s cool. I’m comfortable doing things alone. And, I have that whole box to myself!” Dean reached his hands up and behind his head as if he was reclining. “Going to spread out and enjoy the game in the comfort of my private suite.”
“Alright, I need to get back to it.” Colton sighed, wishing he could talk to Dean a little longer. He didn’t know why, but Dean made him smile and laugh, even at silly little things.
Dean took a slight step back and playfully pointed at Colton, tilting his head. “My first game…I expect a win.”
Colton smiled again as Dean continued to tease.
“My first game…so you best get at least 200 yards rushing, or I’m gonna be pissed.”
Colton scoffed, “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Dean waved and walked toward the stands, and Colton turned back toward the field, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
Back in the locker room, Colton mentally prepared for the game, sitting in front of his locker. His mind drifted back to Dean, sitting in his private suite all alone. It made him a little sad.
But he wondered, could he ever do something like that? Could he ever go to dinner alone? Could he ever go to a movie alone? Could he ever go to a football or basketball game alone? He didn’t think he could.
A wave of melancholy washed over him as he thought about Dean all alone.
Then he snapped back to reality.
“Merrick! Get your head out of your ass! Let’s go!”
“Yes, Coach!” And Colton took the field.
***
Dean
Dean arrived at his suite and took a moment to settle before really allowing himself to take it all in.
It was one of the smaller suites, but no less luxurious or extravagant.
There were plush red and gold swivel chairs and small round tables for standing and conversation.
The walls were a deep red, with gold sconces highlighting historic photographs and artwork from Niners years gone by.
There was a fully stocked bar, with liquor, beer, and wine, along with a huge table spread with food…
meats, cheeses, chips, dips, sweets; typical game day food.
I should have requested healthier options. But hey, when in Rome.
He made himself a plate of food, grabbed a bottle of wine, and dropped into one of the comfy swivel chairs. He thought back to his conversation with Colton on the sideline.
Gah, he looked even hotter in his uniform in person!
What, with his beautiful, curvy biceps barely contained under the sleeves of his jersey.
He'd been wearing the white uniform pants, nice and tight, and Dean could clearly see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric, snaking toward his left inner thigh.
A fucking beautiful sight. And that ass wrapped tight in spandex when he turned around to walk away? Praise and hallelujah!
This is going to be a good day, he thought as he settled back in his chair with his glass of wine, ready to watch Colton and his perfect ass do their thing.
By halftime, it was clear that Colton was having a day!
He was averaging fourteen yards per carry, with twelve carries!
The game was pretty exciting, so Dean had ended up standing at the window for most of the first half.
He swore he saw Colton looking up at the suite windows after some plays.
Was he looking for him? Dean did wave to him a few times, but he had no idea if he saw him or not.
He loaded up on more junk food and more wine and plopped back into his comfy seat. He could feel himself tense up each time Colton touched the ball, nervous that he might get hurt and excited to see what he could do.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions, and Dean’s stomach was in knots by the end of the game.
The best part was, it was definitely a lot more fun watching the game live instead of on TV!
You could see soooo much more definition in those tight pants in person.
TV didn’t do all those butts and bulges justice!
Dean estimated he would need to become a regular at these games to get his weekly fill of all that masculine muscle.
Sipping his glass of wine, Dean had the passing thought that it would be nice if there were people watching with him, but he had no problem being alone.
He’d been alone for so long at that point, he was used to it.
He came out to what he thought were his loving parents when he was sixteen.
After he told them he was gay, they stared at him for a few moments, quoted a few bible verses, then kicked him out of the house and disowned him.
He’d been on his own ever since. It had been ten years and he hadn't spoken to either of his parents again.
The trauma of that moment still haunted him in moments of weakness or fragility.
The disbelief that his own mother and father would toss him into the streets, simply for liking boys instead of girls.
The hurt, anguish, and anger at their actions, while claiming to be good Christian people.
How could an old book make his parents simply toss him to the curb without a second thought or any care for his wellbeing?
And the struggle Dean had to endure, trying to make his way on his own at sixteen years old in rural Georgia!
The realization that, if his own parents couldn’t love him, no one else would either.
He had convinced himself that he would never find true love, a partner to share his life with.
If his parents didn’t love him, what sort of monstrous person was he?
So unlovable, so loathsome that no one would even consider sharing their life with him.
He threw himself into his work, his music, and resigned himself to the love of his fans. He knew his fans loved him, albeit a superficial love, half love, fan love. Not true love. But it was better than nothing and it kept him from wallowing in loneliness.
Yet Dean always tried to concentrate on the positive.
That moment, and the challenge of surviving on his own, had made him focused, a hard worker, and a strong person.
He could handle anything because he had to fight for everything.
It also hardened him, focusing only on work and keeping people at arm’s length, never truly letting anyone into his heart.
Fortunately for Dean, his cousin in Atlanta took him in. She was supportive, welcoming, and introduced him to classic music and movies from the 1980's.
There had been no handouts, though. He lived in her basement while he finished high school, working at restaurants to earn his keep.
The work was grueling and thankless, but he was earning a paycheck, keeping his head above water, and paying his own way.
Navigating the mean streets of Atlanta, it had been hard to know who to trust, with ruthless and dirty players at almost every turn, eager to take advantage of someone young and struggling.
And Dean had mistakenly placed his trust with the wrong sort on more than one occasion.
But, as the old adage and Kelly Clarkson so aptly said, "What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
" And while the betrayal and mistakes had made him stronger and smarter, the pain of all that emotional baggage and trauma still lingered deep in the recesses of his psyche…
just waiting for the chance to jump out and wreak havoc.
Dean’s passion was always music. He'd searched diligently for any opportunity in the music industry.
In his senior year of high school, Dean landed an internship with a major recording studio in Atlanta. He learned from artists and producers, absorbed as much knowledge as he possibly could, and slowly morphed into DJ DVLN.
The summer after he graduated high school, Dean released his first club remix to moderate success, peaking at #34 on the Billboard Club charts. The seed had been planted and DJ DVLN was beginning to thrive.
When he turned twenty, Dean moved to San Francisco. He had never been to the west coast, but there was something about San Francisco. It was a beacon pulling him in, a bell ringing in the distance, calling him home.
It was in San Francisco, in his first studio apartment, that Dean discovered the NFL and he was immediately hooked!
And look at him now. The biggest selling DJ in the world, sitting in his own suite, watching Colton and the Niners.
It’s funny how the world works, he thought.
Dean’s contemplation was interrupted by a knock at the door of the suite. “Mr. Harris, I have a note for you.” The concierge handed him a small, folded piece of paper with “Dean” written on the top.
Dean unfolded the paper to find a handwritten note from Colton.
I’m so glad you came today.
I’m sorry you had to watch alone.
Colton
A tear slid down his face.
That’s so thoughtful. He really is a good guy.
A good guy with a great ass.
Dean smiled to himself with a chuckle.