"Don't know whether you're Chad or just my weird imagination, but I hate wearing a jockstrap, so you're off me, and I'm outta here," Rod whispered under his breath, as he stripped out of his gear and deposited the spooky jockstrap on the bench where he found it. Only now it was all sweaty, wadded up, and sticky with Rod's precum.
Chad was screaming, but as soon as he wasn't in contact with Rod, no one could hear him. Giant Rod swaggered off still with a boner to the showers. He returned dressed, and didn't even take a glance at Chad. Rod was sure that weed he had before practice must've been dosed - it was the only explanation. As Rod's gym bag swung as he closed his locker, the dirty jockstrap was knocked off the bench and shot across the locker room floor.
Lying next to the kickboard under a bank of lockers, Chad could really focus on the locker room stench, and just how dirty the locker room floors really were. Everything went silent, and then the lights went dark. Chad lay helpless, dirty, used jockstrap on the filthy locker room floor.