“Damn Malik, you’re a beast out there today!” Gronkowski fist-bumped Jeff, “Way to go, bru.”
The team piled into the locker room for half-time, to strategize as usual. The testosterone-charged air smelled of sweat socks with an undertone of cleaners, like all the rest of the locker rooms across America.
A redheaded jock, Styles, butted helmets with Jeff, hyping it up. “You the BEAST MAN!”
“YEAH!” the two men roared in unison, ready to take on the world. The uniform and gear that felt so large and foreign to Jeff just a few days ago when he first tried them on, felt like a second skin now. The stink of sweat didn’t bother him – though he did use the Chronivac to dial the stench back to a more normal level - and he used deodorant, since he was particularly pungent that first time. But he’d begun to like the sweaty deodorant smell.
“IN THE ZONE, Malik!” Fist bumps exchanged.
Jeff absently adjusted his jock strap, his muscles rippling under his hot, hairy skin, his body coursing with the rush of the game, enjoying his powerful body. Enjoying being a large, brooding threat of a man. Sweat plastered his long black hair across his forehead, and he swiped some from his eyes. He felt right at home here with the other jocks. This was his castle, the football field his battle field, these big, strong jocks his brothers-in-arms… and right now, he felt like king.
“A word,” Scotty intercepted, grabbing Jeff by his heavily muscled, hairy arm, diverting him around some lockers.
“Sup?” Jeff grunted the question with more attitude than he’d intended. He didn’t like Scott pulling him away from the team, but he reminded himself Scotty wasn’t just the Quarterback, but the love of his life, and added more gently, “Boyfriend?”
Scott’s blue eyes penetrated Jeffy’s brown ones. “What was all that?”
Jeff shrugged his wide, muscular shoulders, and his football pads went up a little. Then in his low, growly baritone, “Just playin’ the game. We wanna win, right?”
Scott’s eyes bore into Jeff’s, and he kept his own growl low so the others wouldn’t hear. “Yeah, but… C’mon man. You know what I mean. We’re only at halftime, and you’re out there like a big wrecking ball or that green Avengers monster, going all ‘clobberin’ time’ on everybody.”
“The Hulk is Avengers; he does ‘Hulk Smash’. The Thing is Fantastic Four – he does ‘clobberin’ time’,” Jeff grunted in clarification, trying to brush Scotty off.
Scotty looked annoyed, thinking, Damn, even when he's being geeky he's hot. “The point is, you’re not some little twink now. You could seriously hurt someone out there.”
“Why are you even telling me this?” Jeff’s eyes darkened, and for a moment he looked like a bull ready to charge... Scotty felt a little intimidated by the big linebacker himself for that second. “You don’t need to remind me, Scott,” Jeff said evenly, not quite threatening. “I have years of football memories from the Chronivac integrated into my OWN history now, my OWN mind and body. Muscle memory, training, workouts - it’s all here. I know my own strength,” His muscles flexed at the word, “And I know how to use it.” As if to illustrate, he used just enough force to push Scotty up against the lockers, pinning him, then got closer with a sexy grin. “I just felt like having a little clobberin’ time of my own, that’s all.”
“Dude,” Scotty pushed back a little, not amused. “Seriously?”
Jeff looked annoyed now. “Seriously dude? Football isn’t safe. It’s not supposed to be. It’s a bunch of 260 pound muscle gods plowing into each other and fighting their way to victory. Sometimes someone gets hurt. We practically wear armor, for fuck’s sake.” Jeff took a moment to cool off. “Look, we’re not out there to play nice. This isn’t chess club or art class.”
“Okay… you’re right,” Scott backed off. “Sorry, I just wondered what was going on. I just want to know you’re okay… okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jeff assured him. “I’m just letting off a little steam. After all the sex and all the talk and the crazy rollercoaster of emotions the last few days… not to mention the very fabric of our realities being severely changed…” Jeff emphasized, pointing to the pink band on his wrist, “I just felt like getting primal for a change, and plowing a few guys over.”
“Uh-huh,” Scott said, noncommittally, but knew Jeff had a point.
“There’s time for love, time for talk and emotions. But now’s time for action,” Jeff made a fist motion.
“Fair enough.” Scott could feel the wave of testosterone wafting off of the linebacker. The Quarterback had to admit it was a good look on his dark-haired lover.
“And let’s face it,” Jeff continued with conviction, “it’s not like there’s any twinks here – we can all take it.” Jeff sighed at Scott’s dubious look, then reigned in his attitude a little more, and said seriously, “I promise I won’t cross the line. I’m here to play, I’m here to win. When I go twink or get in touch with my fem side, you don’t reign me in. But I’m still a guy. I like being a guy, and I have nothing to apologize for. I’m feeling my masculine side now – and there’s nothing wrong with that. So are we okay... or do I need to kick your ass?”
Sott loked up at him, and saw he was smiling. “We’re okay,” Scott seemed satisfied, slapping him on the shoulder. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
“Now let’s go win,” Jeffy growled. Scotty followed his unabashedly masculine boyfriend around the lockers, feeling his own testosterone amping up at Jeff’s self-assured swagger.
“You can try to kick my ass after the game,” Scotty whisper to him, then puckered his lips like he was throwing him a kiss.
“Sounds like a date to me,” Jeff grinned as they approached the others guys.
“Malik, Hanson!” Coach yelled, then saw the boys join the rest of the team. “Nice of you ladies to finally join us. Now let’s get busy!”
Jeff and Scott exchanged grins.
Yeah. It was clobberin’ time.