Carter #2
The team swarms the field, jumping on me, acting like I just won the damn Super Bowl.
I can’t believe this is real life. I’m exhausted, sweaty, and emotionally drained.
But I’ve never felt more alive. This win, this comeback, is not just about football.
It’s about finally playing without fear.
And finally owning who I am. I feel like I’ve been unleashed.
I can’t believe we just won. That was fucking epic. I played out of my damn mind. I was so fucking good.
The team, including me, sprints through the tunnel, still screaming, still celebrating. It’s like something snapped into place. It’s the spark Coach has been begging for. Suddenly, we’re a different team.
Everyone slaps my ass like they own it, and I’m so dazed that I don’t even care.
Josh walks over, holding the game ball like it’s a trophy. “Congrats, my dude. You played great.”
I grin and say, “Thanks, man.” I feel so relieved, you have no idea.”
He waves Marcus over. They both glance toward me, then Miller says, “I’m happy you came out. And the way you did it was perfect. It really pumped the team up. I think they saw the emotion and vulnerability in you and must have wanted to play for you.”
Marcus nods. “The team knew about the rumor, by the way. A few of the guys brought it up to me and let me know people were talking.”
Josh adds, “But we shut it down. We made sure they knew it wasn’t true, at least until you were ready to make it true.”
I pull them both into a hug. “Thanks for having my back. Seriously. I know the magazine wasn’t totally off, but I’m glad I got to tell the team on my own terms.”
They both nod.
I lower my voice. “I’m not ready for the public to know yet, and I hope everyone keeps quiet. I think I need some time to process this. I don’t want a big spectacle. I just don't want to hide.”
“We got you,” Marcus says, fist-bumping me.
“Not a word,” Josh agrees.
Once the locker room starts calming down, I sneak a text to Nate.
I click send: Babe! Told the team.
He stayed home to watch because he didn’t want to make me any more nervous.
My phone pings seconds later: Bae!!! I’m so happy for you. Were any of them assholes?
I actually laugh. I message: Not one person! Legit, everyone acted like it was nothing. I’m laughing now, thinking how convinced I was they’d hate me.
Nate replies fast: I mean, you had a reason to be nervous. Football players tend to be dicks. Your team though, is amazing. Hopefully, Josh and Marcus helped out.
I message: They always have my back. I love them. Babe, I really want a new contract with this team. Tonight solidified it. I need this to be my team of the future.
Then I send: Heading out. Can’t wait to celebrate with you. Sex maybe?
Ping! I check my phone and read: Oh, I’m going to celebrate your body alright. GET THE FUCK HOME NOW!
I’m grinning like an idiot when Coach walks over and pulls me into a hug. It’s strong, steady, the kind that says more than words.
With sincere eyes, he says, “I’m so glad the team treated you with respect and kindness. I had no doubt they would, but you never know with these big, jacked behemoth idiots.”
I chuckle.
“Next week, you’re starting,” he continues. “We’ve got another home game. Florida Vipers. Tough matchup. We need you at your best. And don’t forget the following week, we play your old team.”
I nod. “Thanks for being an amazing coach and for having my back. I promise one touchdown, minimum, with over 100 scrimmage yards. I got you. I got the team. Don’t worry, we are going to destroy Florida and Boston. ”
He smiles, pats my shoulder, and heads out the locker room door.
I follow, still buzzing, heart full, body high on adrenaline, and head already spinning with thoughts of Nate and the next few games.
In a dream-like state, I think how pumped I am to visit Boston and play against my old teammates.
My family lives in Framingham and will definitely make the trip to see me play.
They are die-hard Boston fans, so it will be even more satisfying to beat them.
Maybe this might be the time to tell them about Nate, or even bring Nate along.
***
After my mid-afternoon game, I rush to the pizza place down the block and pick up a chicken parmesan pizza. It’s the best of both worlds: pizza and chicken parm pieces loaded on top. I take the elevator up to my apartment, box in hand, and step through the front door.
I hear Nate’s voice before I see him. He’s in one of the guest rooms, playing his guitar and singing some Ed Sheeran song. His usual go-to. He’s told me before that Ed Sheeran's music makes him feel good. It’s easy to sing, he says, and it always settles and relaxes him.
I walk in, and he looks up from the guitar with a grin, immediately opening his arms for a hug. I don’t hesitate. I jump on him, arms around his neck, and kiss him with extreme eagerness.
“What a day,” I say against his lips. “I played the best game of my career, and I told the guys. I feel like I’m high.”
Nate grins. “I’m glad you’re feeling good. I’m glad you’re happy. You ready for your big gay awakening coming-out party?” He’s clearly joking and already laughing before I can respond.
I roll my eyes. “You know I’m not doing any of that.
And if the Hawks PR team comes to me and asks me to do an announcement, I will laugh in their face,” I pause.
“Charlie Dodds once told me they pushed him to do some kind of announcement, and he did it. But that’s not me.
I’m not doing a press release about my personal life.
It is so irrelevant to football, like who the fuck would even care? ”
Nate nods. “You don’t have to. There’s no reason to do anything like that.”
I smile. “You know what I'm gonna do? Just walk down the street with you and start making out. Let people assume whatever the hell they want.”
Nate raises his eyebrows and belts, “Yassss! You go, girl.”
I laugh and dive into another kiss, this one deeper. Tongues, hands, warmth. It’s messy in the best way. How has it only been a couple of months? This guy feels like my whole life already.
I pull back just enough to say, “I wish I had never gone up those stairs with that girl, Sarah. I never even saw her again. I could’ve talked to you that night. We could’ve had four more years together.”
Nate strokes my cheek, calm and steady. “We’re still young. Mid-twenties, babe. We’ve got so much time.”
I smile, kiss him again, and let my hand slide down his pants, cupping his warm, perfect ass. God, I love this man’s butt. So peachy and plump. I joke as I tease a finger toward the forbidden zone.
“Fuck off,” he says, smacking my hand with a laugh. “You’re not going there.”
I crack up. “Fine. Then take off your pants.”
Nate looks at me and grins. “I’m feeling lazy. Let’s try something new. I want to try this position, which is kind of like spooning. You’re the little spoon, and we just go from there. You down?”
I raise an eyebrow. “What’s the position even called?”
He shrugs. “Let’s call it the Sideways position. I have no idea. But what I can imagine is that it will be less work.”
We both laugh, already tugging off our pants, ready to try something new.
I grab the lube and coat myself, while Nate gets himself hard, rubbing strokes over his dick.
Before Nate reaches for the condom, I glance over at him with a smirk. “We’ve been officially together for over two months now,” I say, teasing. “I think it’s time I reward you…by letting you raw dog me.”
Nate raises his brows, his hand pausing mid-reach. “Seriously?” he says, clearly down. “Because I’m very into that. And don’t worry, I’ve been tested and I’m in the clear.”
“Same here,” I say, my voice low. “Completely STD free.”
Nate’s already fully hard, stroking himself slowly, with warm lube slick around his length. “Lie down,” he murmurs, nodding to the bed. “Like we’re spooning. I’ll come up behind you and we’ll go from there.”
We shift into position like we’re just cuddling in bed, except we’re both naked, horny, and more than ready to go. He kisses the back of my shoulder, slicks me with more lube in between my cheeks, and takes his time preparing me until I’m panting into the pillow.
When he finally pushes in, it’s slow and steady, with perfect motion. I moan, barely able to form a sentence. “God, I love this position. I don’t even have to move.”
Nate chuckles softly behind me. “I’m barely moving either. Is this our new favorite position? I think, yes.”
Instead of answering, I let out a loud moan as he slides deeper. One of his hands wraps around to stroke me in rhythm. I push my hips back against him, wanting more. We fall into an easy rhythm, bodies slapping softly together. Every thrust feels better, more intense than the last.
“This feels so good,” I gasp. “I love you so much.”
He doesn’t say it back right away, but I can tell from the way he holds me tighter, how his rhythm deepens and speeds up, that he loves me too.
He finishes first, inside me, and I feel the warmth spreading.
The thoughtful guy he is, he keeps going long enough to make sure I finish too, shooting all over the sheets.
He pulls out and leans over with a wicked grin. “Oops. You’re totally washing that.”
“You made me do that,” I fire back. “So, you’re washing it.”
He laughs, slaps my ass, and disappears into the bathroom for a shower.
We clean up quickly, slipping into pajamas, and both of us look at each other with clear satisfaction and relaxation. The plan for the rest of the night is to finish season three of Schitt’s Creek and get to bed by ten or eleven.
We settle onto the couch, snuggling under a blanket, but before Nate can grab the remote, I swipe it from him.
“I want you to come to Boston with me,” I say, trying to sound casual and confident.
Nate looks over at me. “Are you taking me to the aquarium?”
I snort. “No, dumbass. I’m playing Boston in two weeks, and I want you to meet my family.”
His smile falters just slightly. “Wait, like…actually meet them?”
“Yeah. They live in Framingham, like thirty minutes from the stadium. I already told them a little about you, but nothing serious. I’ll get tickets for them and you.
You’d sit with them at the game. I am thinking we crash there Saturday night, and all hang out during the day Sunday, since the game is at 8:30 p.m.”
Nate, thinking to himself for a second, says, “Will it be weird if I’m sitting with them and they barely know me?”
I turn fully toward him. “If I love you, they’ll love you. My parents are sweet and helpless. My brothers are dinguses, but you'll enjoy them. Imagine me, but twenty times more nuts.”
Nate relaxes. “I’m excited to meet them,” he says, eyes warm. “I just really hope they like me.”
I reach for his thigh and squeeze it. “Babe, everyone loves you.”
He smiles widely, and we sit there for a second, our hands resting on each other's thighs, the glow of the TV lighting up our faces. I grab the remote and press play on our new favorite show and start the binge session.