So when they played, “Blow the coach in his office with the full locker room just on the other side of the door,” it didn’t matter that Drew grunted loudly every time Emmett swallowed his dick and it didn’t matter that he shouted expletives when he came down Emmett’s throat. It didn’t matter because they weren’t in a real locker room, Drew wasn’t a real coach, Emmett certainly wasn’t the virgin star athlete that he was pretending to be, and the danger and the excitement was only part of the game.
When they played, “Tackled in the end zone,” it didn’t matter that the smiling, innocent pictures of Michael as a child and nerdy teen hanging on the wall in the hallway shook and rattled as Drew pounded Emmett into the sheetrock from the other side of that same wall.
And when they played, “Locker room shower,” it didn’t matter that their skin squeaked across the slick porcelain or that Emmett’s screams could be heard above the sound of the running water, “Harder, Coach! Fuck me harder!”
No one was supposed to be home to hear all the commotion. Drew’s secret was to still be safely guarded and Emmett was still somewhat happy to be playing all those games, even though he couldn’t tell anyone about them. He had accepted that as part of the deal when Drew came looking for him a month after he’d walked out of that hotel room. He never expected to see him again. Drew made it perfectly clear what kind of life he wanted to live. It wasn’t just about what people would know, it was about what Drew needed to believe himself. Drew would never actually “be” a fag. So yeah, he didn’t expect to ever see him again.
Emmett heard about Drew and Sierra’s engagement being called off. Hell, everyone heard about it. It made the front page of not only the society section but the sports section as well. The Ironmen were going into the play-offs and there was wide speculation about whether or not whatever caused the break-up would affect Drew’s game. It hadn’t at first, he seemed at peace with his decision of telling Sierra the truth. It hurt her tremendously and Drew had to accept the fact that he was no longer going to be worshipped by her, but he felt he owed her the truth whether it hurt her or not. She deserved no less than that, and Sierra was a good person with a good heart. No matter how hurt she was or how angry she was, she vowed to keep the details of the break-up to herself and therefore keeping Drew’s secret out of the press.
But as the play-offs wore on, he was getting sacked more frequently and his passing game was for shit. It was a good thing that the offensive line consisted of exceptional running backs because they were having to rely heavily on their running game. They weren’t slaughtering the other teams as they had during the regular season, but they managed to keep winning, despite Drew’s preoccupation with whatever issues were bothering him. The last game would have even ended in a tie and gone into overtime if it hadn’t been for the kicker’s 43-yard rocket that blasted through the goal posts with only three inches and three seconds to spare.
Drew was a mess and it seemed he might have to face his biggest fear after all... a fall from grace as a sports hero. And hell, it didn’t even have anything to do with homosexuality. Well at least not as far as anyone knew. It did however, have something very much to do with a certain weird, strange and quirky homosexual that Drew just couldn’t stop thinking about.
It was just five days before the National Championship when he showed up, pounding on Deb’s red, front door. Emmett was shocked to say the least. Not only to see him after all those weeks but to see Drew out of the safety of his Hummer with the tinted windows. Here he was, Drew Boyd, quarterback for the Pittsburgh Ironmen, famous tough guy, king stud of all straight jocks… in the middle of Gay PA, banging on the door of the most famous fag-hag in all of the Pitts, screaming the name of the most nelliest of effeminate bottoms to let him in.
Emmett was moved and stunned and his heart started pounding in his chest at the mere sight of the man. In proper drama queen fashion, he reacted by pulling Drew inside and slamming the door shut. He was panting and teetering on the verge of becoming frantic as he peered through the blinds, checking to see if anyone had seen him… not really grasping the fact that it didn’t matter since his gargantuan Hummer was parked in the driveway. It’s not like anyone in that neighborhood could afford one. Drew smiled and huffed, shaking his head as he watched Emmett panic. And if he wasn’t sure that he was about to do the right thing before, he was sure now. If Emmett didn’t still care about him, he wouldn’t have pulled him inside and become stricken with worry that Drew would be found out. That told Drew all he needed to know so he told Emmett everything.
He told Emmett that he no longer wanted to live the straight life in his heart and he wanted Emmett back more than anything. That Emmett made him happy... truly happy. But there was still one catch. The public could still never know. It wasn’t about him. It was the team. They depended on him and this was news that would certainly cause stress and strife among the team. Him coming out wouldn’t change everything. It was a reality. So as long as he played, he owed the team the same leadership that had brought them this far. And he also had to consider the endorsements. He had contracts and like it or not, they bought his image when they paid him and it was his responsibility that as long as he was endorsing their products, he had to keep providing the same image that they’d so handsomely paid for. So publicly nothing had changed, Drew couldn’t do anything about that. He would have to remain in that deep dark closet.
But privately, he could make changes. And he had. It wasn’t exactly what Emmett had wanted to hear but he thought about it and had decided that deep down it was Drew’s personal lie that had made him walk out that hotel room door, not the public one. And Drew had made that first step by cutting Sierra loose and giving up his hetero dreams. At least in his heart and his head, where it really counted.
So Emmett took him back and told himself that he could do it figuring that there was something inherently sexy about it being a secret and having to hide away. It was the danger and excitement of trying not to get caught, he reasoned. Kind of like being a CIA agent and having to lead a secret life with a secret identity. Being discovered would be disastrous. That’s what Drew was in Emmett’s mind. A secret agent. Emmett talked about the adventures that played around in his head. Where they were, who the bad guy was, how close they came to getting caught. He recounted a different story everyday for four consecutive days after they got back together and Drew listened with a grin. This quirky animated guy with the vivid imagination that talked wildly and passionately with his hands was what he came back for and he relished in the fact that Emmett hadn’t changed one iota.
Emmett actually watched the National Championship game at Woody’s. They were all there, the whole gang, but Emmett was the only one paying attention to the television and everyone seemed to look at him funny every time the Ironmen scored. Not only would Emmett cheer like all the beefy top sports fans that were sparsely scattered around the bar but he would jump up and down and clap his hands too. And when the game was over with a final score of 24-17 and the Ironmen were carrying Drew on their shoulders up to the platform to accept the trophy, Emmett pulled out his hanky and cried.
Brian looked from Emmett to the television then to Justin with his trademark arched brow in effect... choking on his beer with an obnoxious laugh and was quickly chastised as Justin shot him a swift elbow to the ribs. But even sweet Justin, who had watched Brian’s shifting eyes just before his own got big as saucers, had failed miserably to be completely unaffected by Emmett’s show and had quietly smirked while he was giving Brian that stern elbow.
Michael and Ben seemed confused by his actions and kept looking back and forth from each other… to Emmett… then Brian… and finally Ted before settling their puzzled gazes back on each other again. They didn’t know what the hell was going on.
Hunter didn’t really care to know what was happening, he just leaned back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest and enjoyed the show. The hilarious one going on in person right in front of him and the titillating one on the television every time the cameraman decided to see what the scantily-clad, big-breasted cheerleaders were up to.
But Ted… he knew exactly what was happening, and walked over to Emmett, wrapping his arms around him in a friendly hug as he whispered sympathetically in his ear, “Oh Emmett.” Emmett had just nodded and continued to cry with pride for his man.
That pride was overwhelming and even though it seemed to bring all his emotions to the surface, he was even more proud of himself for the simple fact that he hadn’t spilled the beans. He had kept his mouth shut because it was all part of it. It wasn’t just the thrill of the secret agent spy game, there was also something decadently sinful and egotistical about the fact the he was the one to know Drew’s secret identity. The only one. He had been chosen over everyone else. It made him feel… special.
And he continued to feel that way through the long two weeks leading up to the Super Bowl. Drew was in Miami for preparation and practice and Emmett missed him terribly. They talked nasty to each other on the phone. Or actually Emmett talked nasty to Drew and Drew held the phone in one hand and his football in the other. The grin on his face stayed there throughout the entire phone call and usually up to three hours afterwards.
Emmett told him the night before the big game, “You know after you have that little private party on the field…”
“The huddle,” Drew explained.
“Okay, the huddle. After the huddle, you know that guy that always has the ball and bends over in front of you…”
“The Center.”
“Okaaaaaay. The center. Geesh. Can I finish my story? Uh, are you drinking?”
“Yes. Finish your story.”
“Okay, well, I bet that guy, the center… you know, I don’t think you should be drinking the night before the big game. What if you have a headache or a tummyache tomorrow?”
Drew smirked. “I’ll be fine. I’m not a wuss. Finish your story.”
“Right, well, I bet he’s secretly gay too.”
Drew coughed as his last gulp of beer went down his windpipe. “Why do you say that?” Drew asked curiously.
And Emmett had innocently explained that the guy looked really good bent over, his hands touching the ground, his ass in the air and not just anyone would look good in that position. That it took practice to point your ass in just the right way and have it be a turn on.
“I don’t think so,” Drew said.
“Why not? He could be.”
“Nope.”
“Why not? You are.”
There was silence, and unsure of how Drew was going to react, Emmett ‘eeked’ silently on the other end of the phone. Then Drew finally spoke. “He’s not because he doesn’t turn me on. If he was gay, wouldn’t my, what did you call it, ‘gaydar’, give me a hard-on or something when I touch his ass?”
“Oh, baby, it doesn’t always work that way.” Emmett smiled into the phone. “Wait. You touch his ass?”
“Well yeah. It lets him know that my hands are there and I’m ready for him to hike the ball.”
“Oh. Well. Then all I can say is the real reason he doesn’t turn you on is because you’ve got me and, Honey, no one bends over better than little ole me.”
Drew laughed and told Emmett he was strange. “I know, Sweetie,” Emmett answered, then they had some really great phone sex, even though Drew never really said a word and he’d been uncharacteristically quiet when he came. Emmett knew that Drew had a long way to go before he’d feel completely comfortable in his gayness, but he was getting there. Emmett told him to break a leg in the big game the next day and Drew told him that that wasn’t something you say to sports players. It was bad luck… so Emmett had nightmares all night that if Drew really broke his leg in the game, he’d never be able to forgive himself.
During the actual Super Bowl, while Emmett was strung out on worry, so stressed out about his bad luck hex and the fact that Drew had been drinking the night before, Ted thought he might have to have him committed. But Drew… he was just fine. More than fine actually. Every time he came out of the huddle, sidled up behind his Center and placed his hands softly against his padded butt and plastic-cupped balls to receive the snap, he had to concentrate to not notice the guy’s ass in the air and how he was bent over. But the last play of the second quarter, he had to look and Emmett was right, the guy did look good bent over like that… but he admitted to himself, Emmett looked better. He’d been right about that too.
Drew laughed as he checked the field positions of the opposing team and at the same time pictured Emmett bending over in front of a mirror to find just the right amount of back arch that put his ass at just the right angle. And when he called out the play, he was picturing Emmett’s cock hanging between his legs and he actually said the words, “Eight full inches,” instead of the call numbers, “Eight-four-nine-six.” Luckily, the noise of the crowd had drowned out the sounds of his exact words and no one on the field was the wiser. The Quarterback Coach, however, had heard it in his headset and turned to his assistant, “What did he just say?” But the assistant hadn’t heard it and just shrugged his shoulders. But Drew… he had a grin on his face during the entire play and the following 23-minute half time show.
Twenty-three minutes that were the longest of Emmett’s life. Ted’s fingers were becoming purple from lack of blood flow. So when the third quarter started, he made Emmett switch places with him so he could squeeze the other hand for a while.
So things had been good. And even though the Ironmen lost the Super Bowl to the Pioneers, things were still good. With the football season over, Drew’s life got less demanding and they were able to spend even more time together. And that’s probably when things started to become just a tiny bit strained. As happy as Emmett was with playing in the secret agent spy world, and even though he and Drew had started to meet at a nicer hotel, he still was starting to feel like the hotel room made his sexy and sinful feelings dirty. He needed something personal attached to these experiences to make it feel more normal.
That’s when Drew had decided to start playing their games in Emmett’s bedroom while the house was empty. It was still a secret mission and the excitement and danger of being caught still existed but because they were in Emmett’s house it had brought the two worlds together. Mysterious missions with the comforts of home. Emmett was even happier than before. He knew Drew was taking a chance of being discovered every time he came into the neighborhood, but Drew had wanted to do it for Emmett. It would’ve been considered a small gesture in the eyes of a normal couple, but they weren’t normal and it made Emmett feel immensely loved and treasured.
Drew started talking more after they moved their little get-togethers to Emmett’s bedroom, he opened up and took on a more interactive role in their adventures. He even started teaching Emmett some football positions. Wide Receiver, Drew explained, was an important position to most quarterbacks. Emmett agreed by putting his wide and receiving mouth around Drew’s dick quite often. ‘Important position indeed’, thought Emmett. But Drew was constantly reminding Emmett with a little tap on his quivering hole, that Tight Ends were equally as important. Emmett would always blush at the compliment.
And then one day they’d been playing, “Hike the ball,” with Drew as, you guessed it, quarterback, and Emmett as his “guy that bends over” or his Center, when Drew pulled back and rubbed his fingertips all over Emmett’s ass cheeks. Lovingly soft caresses. Back and forth and around in circles. Emmett’s body wiggled as the chills spread up his back. “God, I love your ass,” Drew said without much thought and Emmett’s heart went ba-bump-bump just before he stopped breathing.
Drew panicked when he realized that Emmett had fainted. He flipped him onto his back and smacked him in the chest with his fist. Still nothing. Emmett was motionless. Drew tilted his head back, lifted up his chin and covered his mouth with his own to resuscitate him. After the second quick puff, he felt Emmett’s arms slip around his neck and a tongue push its way between his lips. They kissed passionately for a minute then Drew pulled back. “What happened?” he asked with great concern and Emmett started crying.
“You said you loved my ass,” Emmett choked through sniveling gasps, wiping his runny nose and wet tears on the corner of the bed sheet.
Drew chuckled. “You okay?” Emmett nodded his head. “You sure?” Drew pressed. “You won’t pass out on me again?”
Emmett shook his head, sniffed really loudly and wiped his face with his hands. “No. I’m okay. It was just so…” And Drew shut him up with a kiss.
“No more fainting. You gotta toughen up, Sport.”
“Yeah. Tough,” Emmett agreed with a smirk and a hunch of his shoulders. “Grrrr,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Good.” Drew smacked Emmett’s thigh as he got up to get his beer. “Cause it’s not just your ass… it’s all of you,” he said to the wall just before he took a swig from the bottle.
Silence descended on the small room after that and Drew turned around, expecting Emmett to have stopped breathing once again, but instead, he found him sitting up, staring at him, shaking hands covering his mouth and tears streaming down his cheeks.
“God, you’re worse than a girl. Stop it,” Drew warned, having a hard time with all that sissy stuff. Emmett nodded his head again, sniffling, trying to toughen up… be a sport. It was just hard for Emmett. Keeping the secret was making his insides expand with all the feelings he was used to sharing with his friends, so he couldn’t help it if every so often they spilled out uncontrollably. He took a couple of deep breaths to suck them all back in.
Drew watched Emmett trying to gather himself, noticing that through all of it, Emmett had kept his hard-on. Drew stared at it and his mouth began to water. He had never really felt that way and he didn’t know what to make of it. All he knew was that suddenly Emmett’s dick looked really beautiful and he wanted to lick it and suck on it.
“You gotta show me how to give head sometime,” he said nonchalantly, never taking his eyes off that gorgeous cock. Emmett wailed as his emotions once again overflowed and his sobbing became more forceful. “Shit, what did I say now?” Drew asked as Emmett’s shoulders shook.
It was after that day that Emmett knew he’d made the right choice. The closet wasn’t so bad. Drew loved him and actually wanted to learn how to be a good homo. Their secret was safe and Emmett was so happy.
But everything was about to change.
With the headboard still banging against the wall and Emmett calling out, “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Deb had come home. When she first walked in, she knew those familiar sounds and she smiled that Emmett was obviously having such a good time. After changing out of her work clothes, she sat down on the couch with a bag of Cheetos and turned on the shopping network. A couple of extra loud shouts caused her to choke on one of the small orange puffs and she found herself adjusting her position… at first subconsciously, but as the shrieks continued it became more of a necessity. And soon, she found her mind drifting from the sterling silver bracelets to wondering about Carl… and what he might be doing about that time. But other than that, she was doing a good job of ignoring what was going on upstairs.
When things quieted down, she dragged the back of her hand across her forehead and was a little surprised to find it slightly damp. She had actually been sweating, and this made her feel a little guilty. Unable to eat any longer as her body seemed to be feeling a little funny, she started licking the cheesy powder off of her fingers. When she heard the bedroom door open upstairs and footsteps creaking the floorboards overhead, she forgot about trying to clean off her fingers and began shoving the Cheetos in her mouth at a rapid pace. She narrowed her eyes on the jeweled pocketbook that was up for bid and tried to pretend that she was unaware of anyone else in the house. The last thing she wanted to do was make Emmett feel uncomfortable about fucking in his own home.
Heavy feet trampled down the stairs and came to an abrupt halt as the vision of a red-haired, Cheeto-eating woman came into view. Emmett gasped and Debbie chomped even faster as her eyes increased in size, still staring at the television. Emmett backed up, his shoulder bumping into Drew’s groin.
“What?” Drew asked.
Emmett turned quickly. “Sssshhhh!” and began flailing his arms at Drew to get him to back up. Drew stomped back up the steps and Emmett tip-toed, trying not to make a sound. He slapped at Drew’s back with both hands, chastising him for making too much noise. “Will you pick up your feet? My god, you’re like a bull in a china store,” he whispered harshly.
“Why?” Drew questioned in his normal voice.
Emmett panicked and covered Drew’s mouth with his hands. “Sssshhhh! Deb is down there.” Emmett’s eyes were bugged out in fear as he looked over his shoulder and down the steps. It was death down there. Their mission would be over and their secret identities discovered. His chest rose and fell as he panted... his heart pounding erratically in his chest.
Drew removed Emmett’s hand from his mouth. “Who the hell is Deb?” he asked, still speaking in a regular voice and Emmett jerked his head around and gasped as the fear gripped his heart.
Deb looked over her shoulder and wondered what the hell was going on. She heard a man’s voice and she heard Emmett’s ssshhhing. Why didn’t they just come down the stairs already? What was the big fucking deal? Didn’t Emmett know that Michael and Justin and Vic and hell, even Brian, had all fucked in her house? She didn’t care. She mumbled to herself and shook her head as she turned back to the television.
“She lives here!” Emmett animatedly screamed at him, but was still whispering of course.
Drew’s eyes grew in size just a little bit. Finally, he understood the travesty of the situation and Emmett sighed, flailing his arms again to shoo Drew back into the bedroom. Once they were safely inside, he shut the door and leaned against it. Placing a barrier between them and their game of secret missions and Deb, the community’s biggest gossiper. Well, the biggest right after him of course.
Drew began pacing. “I thought you said she was at work. Fuck!”
“She was,” Emmett replied weakly. It was all fun and games and fear and excitement but now that they were really caught, the reality of the situation made his stomach turn. No matter how much he had tried to paint the situation differently… in the eyes of an outsider, he was nothing but a dirty little secret.
“Okay, what’s the damage?” Drew asked trying to formulate a plan.
“She’ll tell everyone. She has a harder time keeping her mouth shut about stuff than even I do.”
“Well, you never blabbed about us. I mean, I’d say you’ve been quite the little trooper.”
“I have, haven’t I?” Emmett beamed, thinking about how proud he was of himself... but then he remembered their predicament. “But this is Deb we’re talking about here.”
“So she’ll tell everyone. What exactly do you mean by everyone?” Drew was still trying to analyze the situation.
“Everyone at the diner, all my friends…” Emmett was really feeling sick now. They’d think that he was perpetuating the cause of homophobia by allowing himself to be involved with someone in the closet. They would question the brightness of his flame. No one would understand. No one but Brian anyway. Which actually only made him feel worse. Shame overtook him. “…every one that matters.” Matters to Emmett that is.
“Fags, you mean,” Drew said after he’d stopped pacing. He stood in the middle of the room and glared questioningly at Emmett.
Emmett looked at him but he looked away quickly. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he didn’t want Drew to know that his sissy boy lover was crying… again.
Drew saw that he’d hurt him and he moved in closer. Emmett pressed himself against the door trying to back away. When he got inches from Emmett’s cheek, he moved to the side so he could see his eyes. Emmett turned his head the other way. Drew followed. “Hey.”
“Fags,” Emmett said weakly then swallowed hard, the word not coming out of his mouth easily. He turned his head away again as a tear ran down his cheek.
Drew leaned into him and wiped it away with his thumb. “Hey, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, she would tell ‘your’ friends, ‘your’ community, not the whole planet. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s not?” Emmett’s voice squeaked just a little as he sniffed.
“No. It’s not. So she tells a couple of fags, so what?”
“Stop saying that. It’s hateful when you say it. You haven’t earned the right to use it.”
“Look, I’m in love with the biggest flaming queen in Pittsburgh, if that doesn’t make me a fag, I don’t know what will.” Drew squinted his eyes and stared at Emmett. His words never quite matched his looks, but when he squinted it was usually because he was opening up. And Emmett knew it.
“Really?” Emmett asked with a big grin.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I always said my flame burns bright,” Emmett snorted with a sort of giggle.
“That it does,” Drew agreed.
Emmett straightened his face. “But stop saying fag. We’re queer… gay… got it?”
Drew blinked. “Okay. Got it, Coach.”
Emmett smiled and hunched his shoulders. He liked to think of himself as Drew’s coach. His gay coach. So when Drew called him that, he always felt just a little giddy. He couldn’t help it.
“So,” Drew added, “she tells a couple of… queers… that are your friends. That’s not exactly like ESPN.”
“You don’t know Deb, or my friends, and you don’t know much about queers, do you?” Emmett warned. He knew the problem. Queers liked to gossip. Period.
Drew huffed. “No, I don’t. But I want to.”
Emmett turned his head and looked into Drew’s eyes. A grin pushed his lips up. “Really?” he asked like a child.
“Really.”
“But what about…”
Drew interrupted his question with a kiss. A deep, passionate, intense kiss that when they pulled away, Emmett was left weak in the knees, his heavy eyelids barely slits. “I don’t know, Sport. I don’t know. All I know is, I just want to do this. I want to become a part of your world.”
“Oooooh, can we go to Babylon? You just won’t believe it. It’s so awesome! The music, the lights, the sweat, not to mention the most gorgeous men in all of Pittsburgh. We’ll have such a great time!”
Drew started laughing at Emmett’s excitement. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, Sport. One thing at a time. I just accepted the fact that I’m a fag…”
Emmett frowned and furrowed his brows.
“…uh, I mean a, um, I’m…”
“Queeeeer,” Emmett finished for him.
Drew grimaced. “Okay… queeeeer.” Emmett grinned and clapped his hands. Drew actually blushed as he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, let me get used to that before we go off to this Babylon. How ‘bout I just meet your friends first and we’ll take it from there?”
“Fair enough,” Emmett said with a nod of his head and a straight face. Then he grinned really big and jumped into Drew arms, placing kisses all over his face.
Drew laughed and stumbled backwards. They fell onto the bed as Emmett continued to shower Drew with kisses.
“The strangest things make you happy,” Drew whispered contently.
“You make me happy.” And Emmett kissed him on the mouth and sucked on his tongue. “Fuck me again,” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss.
“You got it, Babe.” Rolling them over, Drew jumped off the bed. He roughly pulled Emmett’s pants down around his ankles and started to undo the button and zipper on his own when he stopped, watching as Emmett scrambled to get on his hands and knees. But Drew had other ideas. He grabbed the frantic man’s ankles and flipped him back over. “This way,” he demanded as he let go to finish pulling down his own pants and setting his cock free. “I wanna watch you cum.”
Emmett gasped and his face started to scrunch up.
“Oh fuck, don’t cry,” Drew pleaded.
Emmett swallowed and shook his head. He wasn’t gonna cry. He was gonna be tough. “Grrr,” he growled, albeit a little weakly.
“Yeah, that’s it, Sport. Be an animal,” Drew said as he sheathed his cock with a condom.
Emmett spread his legs open wide, stroked his dick and gritted his teeth. “GRRRR,” he growled more forcibly. Drew grabbed his legs, yanked him to the edge of the bed and slammed into him.
Emmett continued to growl but as things built in intensity the growls turned to howls and later on, barks.
“Holy shit,” Deb said to herself. “Sounds like a fucking pack of wolves up there.” Rolling up what was left of the bag of Cheetos, she headed into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and started pulling food out, mumbling to herself. Just as she was putting the casserole in the oven, the headboard in the room above began it’s rhythmic banging against the wall. “Geezus kerist,” she grumbled as she set the timer for twenty minutes then sat down at the table and waited, tapping her fingers anxiously.
Four loud grunts and one, “Oh my god,” later, all was quiet again and she sighed with relief then got up and grabbed three plates from the cabinet to set the table.
Just as the timer on the oven went off, heavy footsteps bounded down the stairs.
Emmett stopped on the bottom step and Drew bumped into him. Emmett turned around. “You sure?” he asked as he smoothed Drew’s t-shirt over his rippling muscles.
“Yep,” Drew responded swatting Emmett on the butt.
Emmett grabbed his hand and smirked. “Um, sweetie, even my ass needs a break every now and then. I’m just a little tender back there.”
Drew smiled and Emmett turned around, mumbling under his breath about needing to teach Drew the fine art of rimming. Drew, having heard what Emmett said, leaned down right next to his ear and whispered, “Okay.”
Emmett grinned and giggled. “Really?” And Drew started to swat him again but Emmett caught his hand just in time, so Drew leaned down and kissed him instead.
Deb slammed the casserole dish on the table. “After a work out like that I’d say you two must be hungry.”
Emmett pulled away from the kiss still smiling and blushed as Drew smirked. He grabbed Drew’s hand and dragged him behind him into the kitchen. “Deb, I’d like you to meet my friend…” Emmett beamed, hunching his shoulders in pure giddiness and pride as his free hand rubbed reassuringly along Drew’s arm and he quickly added, “…my boyfriend.”
And Drew squeezed Emmett’s hand… his lover’s hand… as he took a deep breath and smiled at the slightly outrageous woman before him.
