Safety Net (17 page)

Erick looked down at himself: his
cock still dark, sticky, wet. Incriminating.

When he came back to the bedroom
Lowell went to wash up. Erick climbed into Lowell’s bed, folding back the
covers. Lowell came back, switched off the light, and slid over him. It was a
tight, possibly impossible squeeze until Lowell found he could brace against
the wall and hold Erick in such a way that Erick’s right arm wasn’t crushed.
Erick relaxed against him, a little drunk and very tired.

“We’re busted, by the way,” he
said, yawning. “Dale saw me.”

Lowell was caressing Erick’s right
arm, soft, soothing. After a pause he said, “Oh. Hm. I think it’ll be okay.”

I hope it’s okay. I need it to
be okay
, Erick thought, falling asleep.

-----

“You two look so digustingly cute
together I may have to throw up.”

Lowell opened one bleary eye. Light
angled in from the doorway. Dale perched on the end of the bed. Lowell, wrapped
protectively around Erick, croaked, “Dude. What time is it?”

“It’s just after five,” Dale said,
tapping his wrist as if he wore a watch. He was dressed for his morning run.

He tilted his head in Erick’s
direction. “So.”

Lowell blinked, waking up more. “Yeah.”
He couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

Dale smiled back, shaking his head.
He crossed his arms over his chest, saying, “Crazy straight boys gonna be the
death of me.”

Lowell squinted at him. “Not so
much of the ‘straight,’ if you don’t mind. In my case, anyway.”

“Hmmm, yeah. I think you’ve
officially earned ‘bi/curious’ status at least, homeboy.” Dale paused, looking
at Erick, who was curled up in deep sleep, snoring quietly. “He okay?” He
lightly patted Erick’s ankle through the blanket.

“He will be,” said Lowell. He
tightened his hold a little and kissed Erick’s ear.

“Sex heals all wounds?” Dale
murmured.

“Dale,” Lowell said warningly.

“Yes, I know,” Dale sighed. “Your
love is pure and all that. Whatever. Just, y’know. Make sure he’s really okay.
Not Erick okay.”

“I will,” Lowell promised, and Dale
left for his morning run.

He’d been gone a couple of minutes
before Erick stirred, saying groggily, “What is ‘Erick okay’?”

“You were awake?”

Erick moved against the bed,
stretching his arms. “Kinda-sorta. What is ‘Erick okay’?”

Lowell propped up on one elbow and
rubbed his face, yawning. “Um. ‘Erick okay’ is when you say you’re okay but you’re
not and you won’t tell us what’s wrong. Drives us fucking mental sometimes.”

Erick gazed at him and combed
Lowell’s hair with his fingers. “You think I’m ‘Erick okay’ because we messed
around last night?”

Lowell took his hand and kissed his
palm. “No. Because we lost to Rockridge last night.”

Erick’s eyes widened enough that
Lowell knew he’d struck home. He waited for Erick to deny it, but Erick said, “I
let the guys down last night. Everyone was playing one hundred percent and I
was a total fuck-up. Seriously? I haven’t played that bad ever. Not that I can
remember anyway.”

“Everyone’s allowed off days.” Lowell
threaded their fingers together and held hands over the blanket. “Even Erick
West.”

“It would’ve been a massacre if the
guys hadn’t pulled through, if you hadn’t been there for me...”

“That’s what we do, QB. We win
games, and the ones we can’t win, we minimize the damage.”

Erick’s look darkened briefly. “We
could’ve won that one. Martinez is good -- very good -- for a freshman, but he’s
not perfect. And their D--”

“Erick.”

Lowell pulled him into a soft kiss.

“Okay, okay,” Erick said and
brushed his lips over Lowell’s. “Letting go of it now.”

“For real?”

“For real. I have to, otherwise I’ll
throw like shit next game, too.”

Lowell smiled, shifting onto his
back and bringing Erick on top of him. Erick moved and settled heavily over
him, more or less comfortably.

“Oh, wow,” Lowell said. “I have to
tell Dale. You said ‘fuck’.”

Erick regarded him heavy-lidded. “I
didn’t, though. I said ‘fuck-up.’ It’s different.”

“Same diff,” Lowell said, rolling
his eyes. “It has the word ‘fuck’ in it. I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say
that.”

Erick nuzzled his neck with a kiss.
“Clearly, I’m capable of things you were previously unaware of.”

Lowell, thinking of Erick’s useful
left hand, snickered. “Clearly.”

Erick licked and kissed and sucked
on Lowell’s neck for a while, which felt good in a damp, odd sort of way, then
lifted up. He gazed at Lowell and Lowell touched his cheek, traced one
fingertip along his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose, his lips and jaw. He had
a half-day’s growth of beard and it was softer, finer than Lowell expected.

Erick said, “You and Dale. You’ve
been fooling around?”

It was like all the blood ebbed out
of Lowell’s body at once, leaving him empty, cold, dizzy. As it flowed back in,
Lowell said, moving his hands over Erick’s back, “Oh, Erick. It’s not... Oh God.
I am so sorry. I don’t even know what to say...”

Erick was calm, very still. “Since
the summer? Or before?”

Lowell frowned a little. “Um. No.
Since after the Colorado game. Or, um. Uh, why...?” He tried to read Erick’s
expression, but Erick glanced down, shook his head a little.

“Only since... Huh,” he said and
fell quiet.

Lowell touched his hair, his cheek,
his shoulder and back, watching him, wishing he could explain it. Wishing there
were no ways to hurt Erick, because he never wanted Erick to be hurt. By
anything. He wrapped his arms around Erick’s waist, holding onto him, and
blinked away tears.

“Lowell,” Erick said softly,
wonderingly. He lowered into Lowell’s embrace and held him. “Shhhh. It’s okay.
It’s okay. I thought... Never mind what I thought. It’s okay.”

Lowell took a deep breath. And
another. He spoke rapidly, “We kind of fell into it, I don’t even know why.
Except I kind of do know why, because I was wanting you. So much. And I didn’t
know what to do about it. And see? I’m so shallow, it becomes all about sex, so
the next thing I knew I was messing around with Dale. And I even told him.
After USC, I told him I was in love with you so I was using him for sex, but
Dale said it was okay, and after that it was pretty seriously weird, but y’know,
okay, I guess. Except for the part where it’s not because you’re the one I
want. I want you, Erick. So much. I can’t even think right now, I’m so afraid
you’re hating me and disgusted and wanna, like, kill me or something.”

Erick stroked Lowell’s hair in
slow, soothing caresses. “Shhhh.” Lowell took another deep breath, letting the
panic die down.

Erick smiled at him, warm, gentle. “I
don’t wanna kill you.”

Lowell managed a wobbly smile. “Good.
‘Cause you probably could.”

Erick kissed him. Slow and soft,
his lips touching in the barest of touches, caresses.

“Erick,” Lowell sighed, tenderly
kissing him back.

“Shhhh.”

Erick’s kiss gradually deepened,
and Lowell drank on it, running his hands over Erick’s back. The kiss became
hungier. Erick shifted again, easing against Lowell, and Lowell felt his cock
stiffen. With a groan, his own prick filling, hot, Lowell held Erick’s hips,
devouring the kiss. Erick writhed over him, sliding, rubbing, and their cocks
touched, and the deep throb through Lowell’s body made him clutch Erick and
thrust as Erick filled his mouth with his tongue. Erick matched his sudden
urgency, and rocked and pushed and rammed against him, and kissing, they came.

After a long, quiet moment, Erick
rose up, wincing as he bent his knees and straddled Lowell’s thighs. He looked
down at Lowell, and Lowell drank in the sight of him: flushed and sweaty and
wet from sex, his lips swollen from kissing. Erick smiled subtly, his gaze
capturing Lowell’s.

“Hey.”

Lowell smiled back. “Yeah.”

Erick reached over, touched Lowell’s
lips with his fingertips. Warmth spread through Lowell’s skin, up his cheeks.

“Oh,” he said, lips beneath Erick’s
fingers.

Erick’s smile broadened. “Yeah. Me
too.”

And Lowell thought he was going to
pass out from the dizziness, from the rush of loving Erick so much and Erick
loving him back.

-----

The final game of the season was
Notre Dame on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Mendel Family Stadium was
three-quarters full, a respectable turnout when the campus was so empty, and
the ESPN cameras were there to broadcast the game.

Crocker’s defense didn’t have an
easy time of it. Notre Dame had learned from last year and were finding ways to
get their star running back out there and running with the ball. Two pass
interference penalties on Crocker didn’t help, either. What placed the game in
Crocker’s hands was Erick. After his shocking, uncharacteristic performance
against Rockridge, Erick threw an almost perfect game. Lowell, out on the field
and in the middle of it, didn’t have time to watch and admire, but he could
feel it. Every pass, every adjustment, every calculation Erick made. Lowell
caught three passes for a total of fifty-seven yards, Dempsey scored two TDs,
and McIlvaine, in his final home game for Crocker, scored one. Final score
48-30, and Crocker’s win.

Fans, press, students, everyone
flooded the field afterwards. Lowell hugged the seniors on the team, scanning
the crowd for Erick. He found him surrounded by cameras and reporters, but
Erick was smiling and relaxed, and Coach Bowman came up and joined him, taking
over a lot of the questions.

“The next Heisman winner,” Kryzinski
said proudly, standing next to Lowell.

Lowell smiled. “He should be.”

“What a game,” Kryzinski said,
laughing. “He could go pro.” He paused. “Do you think he’ll go for the NFL
draft early?”

Lowell frowned slightly. Erick had
never mentioned it, and Lowell had always assumed Erick would stay through
senior year... But there was no reason why he couldn’t go pro. Except for
graduating. And come to think of it, Erick had taken summer classes and might
not need another year to have enough credits to graduate.

“Wow, shit. I don’t know,” Lowell
said, fighting off the part of himself screaming that Erick couldn’t leave
Crocker. Couldn’t leave him. Not yet. God, Lowell thought, disgusted. Could he
be more selfish?

Erick had more press stuff with the
coaches after the game, so Lowell didn’t get a chance to see him. He lay in bed
and prepared himself for Erick deciding to go into the NFL early. He would be
happy for Erick... Maybe he could go into the NFL early, too... Maybe they’d be
picked for the same team... Lowell pressed his pillow to his face and blew out
a frustrated, disgusted sigh. The likelihood of him getting signed to the same
team as Erick was next to zero.

Lowell woke up Sunday morning late
enough that it was light outside. Something tugged on his hair and he turned
over to find Erick, dressed for a run, leaning over him, smiling. Lowell
grabbed his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, broken by a loud
ahem
.

Standing past Erick was Dale, also
dressed for a run. He folded his arms over his chest. Erick blushed, which only
made Lowell kiss him again before getting out of bed.

They jogged down to the stadium
first, around its perimeter a few times, then down along the edge of campus
until they reached the creek. They followed it for a while, under the trees
which never lost their leaves. It was a brilliant, sunny, cool November
morning. They cut back past the medical school and up to the reservoir, which
Lowell was always going to feel a fondness for because he and Erick had first
kissed here. Beyond the reservoir was a small field with picnic tables. They stopped
to rest here, taking turns swallowing water from a drinking fountain.

“We’re getting a bowl game,” Erick
announced, grinning widely. “We won’t know for sure until next week, but it
looks very good, according to Coach Bowman.”

Dale and Lowell bumped fists, and
Lowell clapped his arms around Erick in a hug. After a hesitation, Dale wrapped
them in a dual hug and laughed.

“Which one?” Lowell asked, sitting
on a picnic table bench.

“Sports blogs were saying Orange
Bowl,” Dale said.

Erick nodded. “Orange Bowl seems
likely, but Fiesta Bowl is another possibility. Because we’re from California,
and they’re not sure about a California team drawing enough fans to Florida for
the Orange Bowl.”

“Should be the fucking Rose Bowl,” Dale
muttered. Although Crocker and USC were both 11-1 (PWAC 8-1), USC was ranked
higher and earned an automatic berth in the Rose Bowl. It was a sore point.

“Who would we be playing?”

Erick dropped onto the bench next
to Lowell. “Several possibilities. If it’s the Orange Bowl, they’re saying
Georgia Tech because they just beat Clemson on Friday. But it could be one of
the Big Ten schools if Georgia Tech beats LSU next week. If it’s the Fiesta
Bowl, Texas A&M or Kansas State are the strongest possibilities.”

Dale propped a foot on the picnic
table and stretched his hamstrings. “If it’s Kansas State...” he said, leaving
the thought unfinished. They were all thinking the same thing. Ryan Hutchinson
had ended up at Kansas State and had been their starting quarterback this
season.

“Did Coach say anything about the
Heisman?” Lowell asked Erick, leaning back and resting his arms on the table.

“I’m a finalist,” Erick said,
awestruck.

“Dude.”

“Homie.”

Lowell clapped him on the back and
turned it into a rub.

“Yeah.” Erick blew out a breath. “How
did that even happen? After Rockridge, I thought for sure... Anyway. I have to
go to New York for the ceremony even though there’s no way in hell I’ll get it.”