Chapter 22
Dean
Dean sat on the roof listening to music, having a cocktail and enjoying the views of the bay…the blue skies, fluffy clouds, and tranquil waters, boats floating lazily in the harbor. San Francisco gets a bad rep for its weather, but it was beautiful and sunny, even a little warm.
Colton was coming over for dinner, but Dean just couldn’t bring himself to leave the view…
Dean: Hey! Door is unlocked. Come on in. I’m on the roof.
When Colton arrived on the roof, he waved and walked toward Dean, but Dean noticed something odd…
“Wait, are you limping?”
Colton winced. “Yeah. It’s no big deal. It was a rough practice and my feet are killing me. And I rolled my right ankle.”
“Shit! Here. Sit down, let me grab you a beer.” Dean scrambled toward the cabana to grab a drink for Colton.
“Thanks, man.” Colton dropped into one of the chaise loungers by the pool and Dean handed him a beer then stood over him with a concerned look.
“Want me to rub your feet?”
Colton barked out a laugh and looked at Dean. “Oh…you’re serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. I’ll rub your feet if they hurt.”
Dean saw the wheels turning in Colton’s head, probably asking himself if it was weird or appropriate for friends to do this.
Dean laughed at Colton's inability to speak. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He sat at the foot of the chaise and pulled Colton’s feet in his lap, removing his shoes and socks.
Colton clearly took care of his feet and Dean felt his mouth begin to water.
He desperately wanted to suck on his toes, licking and teasing every one of those little piggies.
He licked his bottom lip and began the massage.
“Wait…is this weird?” Colton asked.
Dean shot him a stern look. “No. Why would it be weird? We’re friends, and friends help each other out. It’s not like I’m trying to give you a blowjob or something.”
Colton laughed. “True.”
“Unless that’s what you really want.” Dean winked, leaning forward, waggling his eyebrows.
“No. A foot rub is just fine.” Colton snickered.
Dean began rubbing his feet and Colton completely melted into the chaise, closing his eyes with a deep sigh.
“So, tell me about your day. How was practice?”
“Oh my God, that feels so good!” Colton groaned with a little smile. “Practice was grueling, as usual. We’ve got a huge game coming this weekend. If we win, it puts us in first place in our division.”
“Wow. That sounds like a lot of pressure. Do you think you’re ready?” Dean asked, massaging his heels and insoles with his knuckles.
“Yeah, we’re ready. We’ve got a great team this year. All we have to do is execute the way Coach tells us, and we’ll be golden.” Colton sighed. “Dean, that feels fucking amazing! Don’t tell me you also worked as a masseur before your music career?”
Dean laughed out loud. He loved that he could make Colton feel this way, like putty in his hands. But what did it really mean? Could they be more than friends? Was he willing to take the risk to find out? Maybe…but not today.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do after football? You know, when you decide to retire?”
Colton thought for a moment. “Well, my degree is in journalism and communication, so hopefully I can become an announcer or commentator for one of the networks. That way, I’ll still be connected to the game.”
“That sounds like it would be ideal for you. I can totally see you calling the game on a Sunday night. I’m sure it will happen, but you’ve got a few more years before you have to worry about that.”
Dean began squeezing and twisting Colton’s toes, causing his eyes to flutter back in his head. “Okay, serious question. What do you fear the most?”
Colton snapped his head forward. “Not fair! You can’t make my brain go all jelly-like with this foot rub and then ask serious questions.”
Dean chuckled. “Sorry. But really…what scares you?”
Colton opened his eyes and looked out across the bay. “Disappointing people, letting them down. That’s what scares me most.”
“That’s pretty broad.” Dean tilted his head, still rubbing his feet. “You can’t be worried about disappointing the fans. Some NFL fans are crazier than a sack of badgers. Most of them will be disappointed in you no matter what you do.”
Colton snorted. “That’s true. But I hate the thought of disappointing my team, my coaches, or my family.
After a bad play, or a bad game, that look of disappointment from the coach is soul crushing.
My whole life, I’ve been conditioned to be the best, give 150%, never settle for second place. It can be overwhelming sometimes.”
Dean looked toward Colton, slightly pursing his lips. “Yeah, I can imagine that’s a lot to carry on your shoulders.”
Colton quirked an eyebrow. “Okay you don’t get off so easily. What scares you?
Dean’s mind spiraled. He’d thought about this, many times, but he’d never said it out loud, and certainly never to another human being. His fear was irrational, but it crippled him when he allowed it to creep into his psyche.
“Dean?” Colton’s voice pulled him out of his spiral.
He realized he’d stopped rubbing Colton’s feet and was staring at his hands.
“Sorry. Got caught up in my head.” He looked up with a sheepish smile.
“My biggest fear is that I’m actually not that talented.
That I’m just some schmuck who got lucky a few times and scored a couple of hits.
And the biggest part of that fear is sort of like imposter syndrome.
That people will soon realize that I’m a talentless hack, that I’m ridiculous on stage, and I don’t deserve respect or recognition for my work.
” He sighed deeply. “That scares the absolute shit out of me.”
Colton scowled. “Dean, you can’t be serious. I’ve seen you work in the studio, and I’ve seen you perform on stage. You are incredible! You are a natural born entertainer. I wish I had your talent!”
Dean cracked a tiny smirk. “Thank you. I like to think I’m good at what I do.
And I’m normally pretty confident, but my inner saboteur is a little son-of-a-bitch.
And when I let him get into my head, he tells me I’m not good enough, that I’m not worthy of my success.
It doesn’t happen often, but when he does, it’s a battle to get him out.
I just have to tell that little fucker to fuck right off!
” He gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.
“Why do you think I practice so much? So I won’t look foolish or incompetent when I perform. ”
Dean realized he was still staring at his hands, Colton’s feet in his lap. “Sorry, Colton. I didn’t mean to drag our conversation into the mud. I’ve never told anyone that before. Let’s talk about something happier.”
Colton smiled and touched Dean’s arm. “It’s no problem. It sounds like you needed to talk about it. I’m always here when you need to talk.”
***
Colton
Dean slowly began rubbing his feet again and Colton sighed. Everything about this felt perfect…sitting on the roof with Dean, having his feet rubbed, talking with his best friend.
He wondered, could he talk to Dean about what he’d been feeling? Would it make things awkward between them? He would never forgive himself if that happened and their friendship suffered.
But his curiosity was growing, and he had to know, so he bit the bullet and asked. “Dean, can I ask you a personal question?”
Dean continued rubbing his feet, but gave him a confused look. “Of course. What do you want to know?”
Colton nervously inhaled and stared at his knees. “How did you know you were gay?” He slowly lifted his eyes to Dean.
“I like sucking dick. That’s how I know.” Dean grinned devilishly.
Colton huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Dean. Tell me. How did you know? What were the signs?”
Dean flattened his smile, realizing Colton was serious.
“There were a few things.” He stared out at the horizon, thinking, still rubbing Colton’s sore feet.
“When I was in middle school, I played sports, but I also played in the band and orchestra. While the other boys were talking about girls and doing their best to hang around girls they liked, I was only interested in hanging out with boys. I never saw anything attractive about a girl, although several tried to flirt with me. I found myself, more and more, noticing other boys…their faces, smiles, bodies, and their muscles. Over the course of that school year, I realized I was admiring physical features of other boys, but I was never drawn to girls in the same way. I started developing feelings for some of the boys I spent time with and that kinda sold it for me.”
Dean glanced over to find Colton completely fixated on him and what he was saying.
“There was this one boy. He was in the band, played the drums, and was one year older than me. He was always so nice to me, and so funny. He made me laugh constantly. He got me in trouble more than once by making me laugh during rehearsals.” Dean grinned, remembering those moments.
“When I would walk into the room and see him, I would catch my breath, and my heart would flutter. At first, I thought I had a heart problem. Like, legit thought I needed to see a doctor.” Dean smiled at Colton when he laughed.
“And I found that anytime we were in the same room, all I wanted was to be as close to him as I possibly could…stand next to him, sit by him, anything to be near him. I wanted to talk to him, laugh at his jokes, and make him laugh in return. And one day it clicked. I had a crush on him, I liked him. I liked him the way some of my friends liked girls, and the way girls liked boys.”