"We'll see, we'll go and we'll lose if you idiots don't get your heads out of your asses!" Shouts Gus, also known as Augustus but only to those who want to be crucified, as he snaps out of his crouch quick enough to make Marcellus yelp and land on his ass. "We've got a game against the Titans next week, and I swear to God if we don't win you'll all wish you'd transferred to fucking Aegean State and the Parsons Pirates by the weekend!"
"Aw, come-on Gus, we've only been back half a day. You're gonna kill us before the Championships if you carry this on" complains Marcellus, dusting non-existent mud off of his jersey as he gets to his feet.
"Did you just watch that play? We need all the practice we can get!"
"It's a conspiracy! He's trying to kill us all!" Stage whispers Mark, leaning against Caesar as the two burst out into cackles loud enough to draw the attention of the entire student body.
"Its senior year, you dick. If you want to lose to the fucking Parsons Pirates again then I can find myself another Fullback who can actually block the damn ball."
"Yeah, Mark, you're easily replaceable" sneers Caesar, but his voice is laced with humour and the wink he sends to Mark before he declares overdramatically, "to him, obviously. Not to the rest of us," makes the comment not in the least bit hurtful.
"Be still, my beating heart" mocks Mark, clutching at his chest.
"Ugh, can we just have one practise without your ridiculous double act?" growls Gus, clenching his hands around the football sheerly to stop the overwhelming need to whack the rest of the team, his friends since Junior High, around the head hard enough the knock some sense into them. "Caesar, I would have thought that you more than anybody would have wanted to beat the Pirates this year."
"Of course I do, but we won't play them until the Championships. And that isn't until June. It's September."
"We won't get to the Championships unless we beat the other teams in the Play-Offs"
"We're more than capable of beating the Lawrence Titans. Anyway, you can continue this into lunch if you want, but I'm hitting the showers. Fifth period ends in ten minutes, buddy." Says Caesar, rolling his eyes at Gus' outraged expression and heading off of the field. If Gym Class this semester is gonna be full of extra practices like this, then the team is in for a very hard senior year.
Yanking his jersey off of his head the moment he's in the locker-room, Julius Caesar strips quickly, wrapping a towel around his hips before the rest of the team even makes it through the door.
"You alright, mate?" Asks Mark, pulling his own jersey over his head, along with the bulky shoulder pads, all the while, his eyes are trained unwaveringly on Caesar. He wads the gold and purple material up in his fist and dumps it into his gym bag, bending to pick his water bottle off of the bench.
"Y-yeah" Stutters Caesar, coughing to clear the sudden husky tone to his voice. The blue of Marks eyes pierces through him, making his breath stutter and his cheeks heat.
"You look sort of flushed" observes Mark, pushing the top of his bottle through his lips and opening the lid with a quick tug of his teeth.
"It's hot in here" breaths Caesar, watching the muscles work in Marks throat, the delicate bob of his Adams apple as he swallows.
"Hmm," hums Mark noncommittally, chucking his bottle back into his bag, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Maybe you should go and have a cold shower," whispers Mark, leaning around Caesar on the pretence of passing Gus the Playbook, pressing his chest against Caesars flushed skin and brushing his thigh against the other man teasingly. "It might bring your temperature down a bit. I'll be there in a second to make sure you don't pass out and drown in the drain," chuckles Mark, low and throatily, as he slips the tips of his fingers into the golden spandex around his hips. Caesar turns tail and almost runs to the showers before the bulge in his towel becomes too obvious.
…
"Try-outs are tomorrow during lunch, guys" says Gus, running his fingers through his hair.
"We need a new Guard and a Wingback. The rest of you were on the team last year and unless there's a freshman who plays better, you can be sure you've still got your place. But if you don't put the effort in, you won't be playing past the first pep-rally. Got it?"
"Sir, yes, sir" sniggers Marcellus, snapping a mock salute. The rest of the team troop past, heading to lunch.
"Where are Caesar and Mark?"
"Where d'you think?" And the suggestive waggle of his eyebrows makes Gus burst out laughing for the first time all day. "They can't truly believe we're that oblivious?"
"Apparently so. Wanna go run all the hot taps in the bathroom? Flush them out with cold water?"
"If you deprive Caesar of an orgasm, he'll be a bastard all day," warns Marcellus, but he continues before Gus can get a word it, "na, it's completely worth it" and with twin evil smirks, they've got the hot taps on full blast.
…
"Should I be worried about just how many kinks you seem to have?" Mutters Caesar, turning around as the wet slap of footsteps ring in his ears, barely audible over his own hitching breath. He runs his hands over his body, spreading the citrusy shower-gel over his skin, watching Marks' slow approach. "I mean – the back seat of your car, beneath the bleachers, your fucking neighbour's swimming pool. Do you just find the risk of getting caught a turn-on?"
"If I say yes, will you stop indulging me?" Asks Mark with a pout. It should be the most ridiculous looking expression on an eighteen year old man's face, especially on a 6 foot, 218 pound man, but it turns Caesars legs to an embarrassing state of jell-o.
"Probably not," admits Caesar, tipping his head back to let the water run over his hair and down his face. "But we should be more careful. Messalina nearly caught us the other day, and I'm guessing you don't want Cleo to know?" The bitterness is evident in his voice but Mark doesn't even reply, just hangs up his towel and plasters himself against Caesar.
"I can't come out yet, Cae. My dad would kill us both"
"No, he'd kill me," corrects Caesar, nuzzling his face into the hollow between Marks throat and shoulder even though his mind is screaming at him that it's not worth the risk. "You're his only son, his only child, he wouldn't hurt you"
"He'd disinherit me"
"Money means more to you than I do," And it's said as a statement, not a question.
"That's not true, and you know it." Growls Mark, twisting his fingers into Caesars dark hair hard enough for it to hurt, "but I need his money for college, for my future, our future. Dating Cleo, brining her to his stupid business functions and pretending she'll be the mother of his high born, old-money grandchildren, makes him happy. If he's happy, he'll leave me alone. The moment I end things with Cleo, he'll start snooping."
"I don't want to keep lying to our friends, Mark. I know my break up with Cleo was nasty, but that doesn't mean that I like the fact that you're cheating on her with me"
"If you come out, my father will despise you and he'll make sure I stay away just to make sure I don't 'catch gay'. He's a homophobic bastard but he can make both our lives a hell of a lot more difficult if he doesn't at least think he's getting his way"
"I'm not hiding who I am much longer, Mark, I'm coming out –" His words are cut off with a gasp as the hands in his hair tighten. Then lips; hot and wet from the water, are smashed desperately against his, hard enough to bruise. Words are unnecessary now, just the press of skin on skin, the glide and tug of lips on lips, teeth and tongue, and they're both lost in the sensations. They stumble backwards a step, tangled around each other tight enough that it's impossible to tell whose arms are whose, crashing hard against the cold tiles of the stall.
"You are the one I want," growls Mark, low in his throat, pressing a searing kiss to Caesars throat. He repeats the declaration like a promise, sealing and punctuating it each time with a kiss, working his way quickly down the other mans chest.
Marks knees hit the titled floor harder than he'd intended but the jolt of pain mixes with the sharp hold Caesar has on his hair, sending a shiver of dark pleasure straight through him. There's a dull thunk as Caesars head hits against the wall, his breath ragged and loud in the silence of the locker-room, reverberating around the small space, spurring Mark on as he dips his head —
"Shit! Fucking hell!" Yelps Mark, jumping to his feet and propelling himself away from the freezing jet of water that had just seconds before been the perfect temperature. Caesar is right behind him, tumbling ungracefully out into the main area.
"When you said a cold shower, I didn't think you were being serious" Snaps Caesar, glaring hotly at his still naked 'boyfriend'. Orgasm denial is not something that should be used as a practical joke!
"Yeah, because I'd willing freeze my own ass off too," replies Mark, voice thick with sarcasm. He grabs the two towels hanging off of the nearby hook and throws one to Caesar, "as much as I hate to say this; we should get dressed"
"It's a good thing we've both got loose jeans then," chuckles Caesar, looking pointedly down at Marks still very obvious hard-on, despite the inopportune cold-shower, before looping the towel round his hips and striding off back to his locker.
"I have a rather brilliant shower at my house," says Mark conversationally, following Caesar whilst twisting his own towel around his neck, padding stark naked after his 'boyfriend'. "With unlimited hot water and everything"
"Lucky you," deadpans Caesar.
"My dad's at a conference until tomorrow. I have the house to myself for the night"
"Really? Wow" replies Caesar in a monotone, but Mark can see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Wanna keep me company?"
"No," answers Caesar, fast as a whip. Mark bursts out laughing, twisting his towel quickly and flicking it sharply across Caesars ass. He's laughing too hard to even make a reproachful comment; instead Caesar just winds his arms around Marks neck, placing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. "I think I can cope with your ridiculously expensive shower. Just as long as you're in it"
"That's a promise I'm only too happy to keep"