Page 34 of The Brotherly Shove

"No, not like that. I don't give a shit about being 'out'," I make air quotes with my free hand. "I don't even know what I would label myself at this point, but I don't care if anyone knows I'minto men. More specifically, I don't give a single shit if anyone knows that I'm into you. I don't care if people know that we're together, generally speaking."

"Then what's the problem, honey? Un-generally speaking, that is? Cause I really want to kiss you right now," he sighs, sounding almost desperate for it, and fuck if it doesn't have things stirring below the waist.

"I want to kiss you too, baby. But I think it would be best if we kept this to ourselves for a bit." I feel him pulling away from me again, so I grip his thigh even tighter. Honestly I'll be surprised if he doesn't have a big 'Lennon Claw' shaped bruise later.

"For one reason only," I continue, trying to get his full attention back on me and not in whatever thought spiral he's no doubt standing on the precipice of. "Believe it or not, B, you're having your big moment right now. Mr. Irrelevant coming up from Division One and exploding onto the field as starting quarterback in his first season in the league? Not only that but already having more professional wins than losses under your belt? This kind of thing never happens, and between all the press you're getting from that mixed with good and bad press that's coming out because of The Shove? I just feel like if we go public right now, all focus will be taken away from what's important—that we're both incredible fucking football players playing for an underdog team that has the potential to take this season all the way to the Big Game, even with our fucked up list of injuries."

I take a deep breath, seeing as I practically spit those words out as fast I could, trying to make sure Breaker heard them before he could come to some cockamamie reason to pull the plug on this whole thing.

He sighs, placing his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

"I really hate it when you're right. How long do you think we should keep this to ourselves?" he whines through his palms.

"Just for a bit," I answer. "Maybe until Kasper is back, or until some other team comes up with something as cool as The Shove and the media moves on from us. Then we can makeout on the field as a touchdown celebration and bring all the attention back to us. It'll give new meaning to the 'Woodies' nickname."

He laughs as he lifts his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair.

"Fine. If I'm going to keep the best thing that's ever happened to me a secret for the foreseeable future," he winks, and this turn it's my turn to blush at his sweetness. "Then I need to know one thing. Len, are you my boyfriend?"

"Let me think…" I set my chin between my thumb and forefinger and tap at my face, pretending to mull it over. Breaker shoves my shoulder and we both laugh as I swat him away.

I lean in and whisper to him, "Considering I'm head over heels in love with you and I've spent this entire meal fantasizing about what your dick might feel like in my mouth, then yes, Breaker. I am your boyfriend. Are you mine?"

"Absolutely, I am. I love you, Len," he purrs with a smirk that tells me I'm going to get a answer to my fantasy sooner rather than later.

"Good. Then don't think of it as keeping it a secret. Think of it as having something else that belongs to just you and me. This love," I gesture with a pointer finger between us. "This love is all ours, baby."

CHAPTER 21

BREAKER

Now

San Francisco, California

"You know, just because we decided to keep this on the down low doesn't mean it has to be a complete secret. You can tell your Ma. Here, give me your phone, I'll FaceTime her. Everyone knows Mare loves me most," Lennon says, adopting the exaggerated Delaware County accent he always puts on when talking to, and about, my mother.

He reaches over me to where my phone sits on the arm of the couch, leaning and I swat him away and he laughs as he sinks back into the cushion next to me. I wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him in for a side snuggle. I love that my gentle giant loves to let me cuddle into him, but it turns out I really,reallylove when he cuddles his big, warm body into mine. We came back to my apartment after our breakfast, and even though I was so ready to jump his bones that my hands had been shaking as I paid at the restaurant, by the time we made it into my room, we were both asleep so fast we barely got our shoes off.

I can't complain though, because I woke up to Lennon coming through on his promise of finding out what I taste like.I expected him to be a little hesitant—I mean isn't everyone at least a little nervous the first time they suck a dick? No hesitation from my Len, though. He dove right in. Even if he was apprehensive, those nerves never showed. And what he lacked in experience, he made up for with raw talent and enthusiasm. More than just my mind was artfully and thoroughly blown.

We meandered out to the living room afterwards to watch TV and have been here since. We get few Sundays to ourselves between July and January, but even so, neither of us can stay away from football completely. We've had the various games happening today playing on my TV while we've been alternating between playing Spite and Malice—a highly competitive card game that he taught me in college that usually ends up with one of us flipping the table. This time, though, it ended up with me on his lap, our groins rutting against each other to completion. We even managed to actually watch entire parts of the games. We root for friends on other teams and try to pick up on strategies from opponents we still need to face off against this season.

The only reason the clandestine nature of our new relationship even came up is because Len won't stop teasing me for insisting on putting a shirt on before the food we ordered arrives. He says that no one is going to think twice about two guys watching football together shirtless, even if those two guys are football players themselves, and I agree. I just think it's impolite. I mean what delivery person wants a half naked man answering the door outside of a poorly produced porno?

"You're out of your mind, Len. I can't tell Ma. She's got the biggest mouth this side of the Schuylkill River. We tell her and we'll be on the front page of The Inquirer along with pictures of me as a baby, naked as the day I was born in her turquoise blue bathtub tomorrow morning," I say as I run my fingers through his hair. I'm not even going to risk telling her that we're friendsagain. There's no way she wouldn't be able to figure me out if she knew. On the screen, Knoxville's kicker scores a field goal, and Lennon fist pumps the air a few times. They may have been our opponents a few weeks ago, but some teammates are teammates for life. You gotta show up and show out for your boys, even at home.

"Oh my god, that's so true. I'm pretty sure she's the reason everyone knew it was me who got too drunk on her Twisted Teas at the block party the summer before my senior year and accidentally knocked over that stop sign on your street corner when I tried to climb it," he says, chuckling into my chest as he reminisces. My eyebrows draw together.

"Honey, everyone knows you knocked over the stop sign because we all saw you do it. It's on video. The Flannigans included it in their holiday highlight reel at the Christmas party that year," I tell him, pulling up the video on my phone and handing it to him just as I hear a knock on the door. I know the second he starts the video, even though I'm halfway across the room ready to meet our delivery person because of the unmistakable sound of Lennon's adorable, drunk, raspy voice singing the local chant coming through my phone's speakers.

'No one likes us, no one likes us

No one likes us, we don't care!

We're from Philly,

FUCKING Philly!

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