Somebody like you (boyxboy)

33. Life Of The Party

Trevor

Everybody jumped to their feet as the whistle sounded for the last time, clapping their hands and screaming in victory. My face was spread in a wide grin despite being completely drenched in icy water, running from my hair down my neck and under my football sweater. I hadn't been able to feel my toes for the last thirty minutes and I was shaking uncontrollably, but we had won. The tribunes soon emptied and the rest of the school joined us on the field, hugging us, slapping us on the back, they even lifted me off the ground onto somebody's shoulders.

Charlie was standing by the tribunes still, smiling. I waved at him.

After people were done with me, and let me down, I jogged over to him and we went around the corner to have some privacy.

"How did I do?" I asked with a grin.

"I have absolutely no idea," he replied with a fond smile, then pulled me in for a hug even though I was soaked through. "Congratulations," he whispered into my ear.

"I'm quite good, aren't I?" I asked with a wink.

"Football, the only thing you can beat me at," Charlie admitted. He pulled away just enough to place his lips on mine. I sighed into the warmth of him, instantly feeling a bit less frozen. He deepened the kiss and let his tongue play over mine. His hands dropped from my shoulders and went to my hips, then he pulled the sweater out of my shorts and placed his hands on my skin. They were surprisingly warm.

His fingers moved beneath my shorts, even pants, and brushed over my skin, making me ache for more as he pulled me closer.

"Sorry to disturb you, but I think if you start taking each other's clothes off now you'll both get pneumonia." I jumped away from Charlie like I'd been burned.

"Dad! Jesus, I'm sorry - it's not what -"

"It's not what it looks like? In that case, please explain, because I don't understand what it is if it's not what it looks like." I remained silent, not sure what to say, feeling horribly exposed. "Why didn't you tell us when you visited?" dad asked.

"Because we weren't... not at the time, we had never..." I grimaced.

"Congratulations, then," dad said with a smile, taking me by surprise.

"Sorry, what?"

"Congratulations."

"So... you're not angry?"

"Angry, why would I be angry?" I opened and closed my mouth several times.

"I just thought... you wouldn't... be very happy," I said and shrunk in on myself.

"Are you saying you thought I'm against homosexuality?" I nodded weakly in response. "Trevor, my brother is gay, you know that."

"You hate uncle Tom!"

"Yes, but that's because he's an idiot, not because he likes to sleep with men. I'm disappointed that you would think of me like that, Trevor, really." I bowed my head in shame.

"Sorry, dad, I just though... I don't know what I though."

"Well, now that that's established – my proposition."

"Proposition?"

"I didn't come all this way just to watch you play. Not that I wouldn't want to see you play, you're very good, Trevor, I think you've progressed a lot."

"Oh... thank you, dad," I said, surprised at his compliment, considering how rarely he said anything nice.

"I was going to take you to dinner in the village just nearby. Now that you two are so close, I'll extend the invitation to you, Charlie, if you'd like to come."

"That's – thank you, Mr Williams."

And that's how the three of us ended up around the same table, Charlie visibly tense beside me. At least dad had let me shower before we left, but had probably been torturing poor Charlie in the meantime.

The dinner wasn't incredibly interesting, but dad admitted to something he'd never done before.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there much for you, growing up, Trevor. That's part of why I came here today even though I should be in Paris conducting some business. I wanted to apologise and..." the speech went on and on and by the end I was surprisingly moved and happy. I even went so far as to hug him when we said goodbye.

Even Charlie eased up to him, and explained to him - leaving out some important details - about the relationship he had with his dad, and at the end they seemed to genuinely like each other, which was rare for my father and Charlie both.

"If there is ever anything you feel like you need to tell someone, if you want to have a talk - as your dad isn't there for you - you're welcome to give me a call," dad said and Charlie thanked him, and they clasped hands. Then dad left, and me and Charlie walked up to our dorm together, falling into bed immediately, feeling exhausted.

"Your dad isn't so bad," Charlie admitted as we laid beside each other.

"I'm very pleasantly surprised. And he likes you, even more surprising."

"Saying that people don't like me?" Charlie asked with a chuckle.

"Saying my dad is a grumpy person that has almost as much against other people as you do."

"Maybe that's why you like me, I remind you of your dad."

"Oh, god no! No, don't say that!" Charlie burst out in laugher at my horror.

"Or maybe, you just like me for what I can do with my tongue."

"I barely know what you can do with your tongue," I admitted, but felt myself getting interested.

"Let me show you, then," he whispered, and dear me how he showed me.

***

Afterwards, when it was dark all around us and the silence was complete, we were laying in a tangle of limbs even though we were both sweaty and disgusting, Charlie leaned his head down and whispered three private words into my ear.