Chapter 15 #2
The next day was spent relaxing and getting ready for the rest of the week.
I had practice and a trip to Vegas. He had…
complaints. He had many complaints about boredom and the fact that he missed playing football.
He had complaints about missing the gym.
He had complaints about the stiffness in his knee.
He even complained about muscular atrophy, though we both knew he hadn’t been down for nearly long enough for that to be an issue.
I was happy to get back to practice.
Unfortunately, coming back from practice came with a new line of complaints: Vegas.
It started that night at dinner.
“Do you think Coach Cal would let me fly out to Vegas with everyone?” he asked as he watched me wash the dishes. “I’ve been looking forward to the Gladiators game all season.”
“Why?”
“I used to play with one of their wide receivers,” he answered. “We played in college together, and we were both first round picks. I got drafted before him, obviously.”
Obviously. Unless they traded draft picks, the Gladiators were always near the end of the first round. They had consistently been one of the better teams in the league. The Scorpions were not, and they usually had early draft picks. “And have you kept in touch with him?”
“I have. We send each other Christmas cards, and he sent me a list of the best casinos to check out after the game.”
“Was he planning on going with you?”
Milo shook his head. “Nope. He said he’d be too busy celebrating the team’s victory, so I need to go with the team to Vegas. Then I can blow you before the game, and then we’ll win, and then he won’t have anything to celebrate.”
There was no way to keep myself from laughing. That was such a Milo motivation for going to Vegas. “I don’t think Coach Cal would buy into your magic dick theory.”
Milo scowled, but he didn’t argue. He knew I was right.
Coach Cal was good-natured and easy-going, but he wasn’t likely to buy into a superstition that went against doctor’s orders.
I also didn’t think he’d appreciate Milo’s suggestion that the team’s success this year had to do with anything other than the hard work the team was putting in.
I had a feeling most of the team would be offended by that suggestion, actually.
We’d worked hard all season, too hard to claim that magical sex powers were the reason the Scorpions were finally winning more games and hadn’t been eliminated from playoff contention yet.
Milo let the topic drop until the next day.
“I was thinking about Vegas,” he started as we were lying in bed at the end of the night.
I’d had a long day at practice. We had our standard walk-through to start the week, and afterward, I joined a few of the other defensive players for a long workout.
My muscles ached, and I was ready for sleep.
I was not ready for Milo’s next harebrained scheme to convince Coach Cal to let him come to Vegas.
Milo didn’t seem to get that memo. “I think it’ll really boost team morale for me to go. ”
“I think it’ll boost team morale for you to stay home, get the all clear from your doctor, and come back next week as planned.”
Milo rolled over to face me in bed. I lightly pushed his shoulder so he fell back.
He wasn’t supposed to be putting pressure on his knee, and the way he was laying was doing that.
It was putting most of his body weight on his knee, and I didn’t think either of us could survive his injury being extended.
As soon as he was back on his back, I rolled over to face him.
“Why are you so against me going to Vegas?”
I could hear the hurt in his words, and I hated it.
Every time I heard sadness in his voice, I hated myself for putting it there.
I reached out and rested my hand on his bare chest. His hand came up immediately to cover mine, and I knew he understood the unspoken message.
“I’m not,” I promised him. “I wish you could be in Vegas with the team. I really do, but I don’t want your knee to get any worse.
I want you to be back at full strength. For the team, yes, but also because I know how much it’s killing you to not be active. ”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
The next day, Milo had another appointment with his doctor. When I got home from practice, he was waiting for me in a pair of shorts with a brace around his knee and the scooter nowhere in sight. “Guess who got the all-clear to be vertical again?” he exclaimed.
I pulled him into a tight hug and swung him around, laughter trailing in the air around us. When I put him down, he showed off by walking around the living room with a lot less of a hobble than he’d had the last time I’d come home to find him not using his scooter. “Looking good, Tobitt!”
“I’ve gotta wear the brace every day for a week, but then I should be good to go. I can take it off at night for bed and in the shower and all that. But if I’m up moving around, it has to be on. I have a light workout routine I need to do, too, so I can join you in the gym tonight.”
He was practically bouncing with excitement.
Gone was the down and dismal boyfriend I’d had in the weeks since his injury.
He was full of smiles as he dragged me down the hallway to show Aunt Ethel his brace.
The smile didn’t leave his face as he washed the dishes after dinner, even though I knew how much he hated doing them.
He was just happy to be up and walking around again, not dependent on anything else for his mobility.
We went to the gym after dinner, and I kept a keen eye on him to keep Milo from going overboard during our workouts.
He seemed to take great pleasure in hauling the plastic chair that had taken up residence in our shower—his shower—out of the bathroom and into the living room.
I took great pleasure in watching his round ass as he walked naked through the bedroom, and I savored the sight of his muscles flexing as he held the chair.
I also had no complaints when we were in the shower and he dropped to his knees (slowly, delicately, carefully) and took me apart with his mouth.
“You’ll be back at practice in a few days,” I cooed as we laid together in bed two hours later. He was curled up against my chest, sated and happy. “I know Coach Cal’s going to be happy about that.”
He planted a kiss in the middle of my chest. “Me too. Especially once the brace is off and I can get back to full strength.”
He didn’t mention Vegas once.
Notes
I don’t actually know how knee braces work, but we’re going to go with this. Just like I’m not a doctor, I’m not an athlete.