This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.
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Note: I owe a special thanks to Robb for doing the final proofreading and catching all those silly little errors that I missed.
LOVE ON THE COURT
CHAPTER 2
JOE'S PERSPECTIVE:
I worked construction that summer between graduation and college to make some spending money since I wouldn't be able to have a job once basketball practice started. My scholarship was a full ride. It paid for tuition, room, and board, but since I was going to be living at home and not in the dorms, I would get the excess for the room and board as a refund. That was going to cover books, transportation, and other expenses, but I knew it was still going to be tight. It's not like there was ever a lot of extra money around our house. All Grandpa had was the house, his pension from the city, social security, a small savings account, and a rusty 1984 Plymouth Horizon. I needed to pay my own expenses one way or the other.
Grandpa didn't have a very good summer. His arthritis was acting up, and it was hard for him to walk for any distance. He also still missed my grandmother. So did I.
I got my class schedule from my advisor. I was going to be a biology major with medical school as my goal. It would be tough trying to fit in all my classes, labs, practices, and traveling with the team. It was going to take a lot of focus and concentration on my part.
On the bright side, my busy schedule would be a great excuse for not dating girls. I'd tried to bury my attraction to other guys, but it hadn't worked. I was still plagued with impure thoughts. I'd dated four different girls from St. Mary's School which was right next door to St. Stephen's during my senior year. Two of them wouldn't go out with me again after I showed up for our date driving Grandpa's old Horizon. I'd had a couple of dates with the other two. We'd actually progressed to the point where they expected some kissing. Unlike the stories my team mates told in the locker room, kissing those girls just didn't do anything for me so I broke it off with them. I wondered if maybe I needed to be a priest instead of a doctor.
Coach Melton had a team meeting the day before classes started for the fall. I was one of the first guys to show up in the room. Because all of last year's starters had graduated, there were a lot of freshman on the team. The few upper class veterans sort of stayed over by themselves while the freshmen quietly took seats.
Just before the meeting started HE walked in. DeWitt Sadler, my competition for a starting position. He was dressed in a light colored pull over shirt, cargo shorts, and sandals. The color of the shirt really accentuated his cafe au lait complexion and dark eyes. I tried not to look at him, but he came over and took the seat next to me.
He extended his hand.
"Hi, Joe. I'm glad we're going to be playing together instead of against each other."
I was taken aback by his greeting. I found myself staring into his dark chocolate eyes and felt my cock stir in my pants. Embarrassed, I quickly shook his hand and turned back to the front of the room as Coach Melton walked in to start the meeting.
I avoided looking at Sadler throughout the meeting. I didn't understand what was going on. Why was my dick hard? What was it about those deep brown eyes? I'd looked into them before on the court, but today they seemed to look right into me. 'Please, God, I thought I'd gotten beyond this sinful reaction to other guys! Control it, man! Get control. Concentrate on the coach!'
I was sort of in a fog the rest of the day. At dinner, Grandpa asked what was wrong. "You're thinking about something, Joseph. What is it?"
I knew damn well what I was thinking about, but I replied, "Just thinking about starting classes tomorrow, Grandpa. Guess I'm a little worried."
"It's a new beginning, Joseph. New beginnings are always a little scary. You'll do just fine. You're smart enough. Just do your best."
I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. Grandpa thought I was worried about classes, and I guess I should have been. But what kept me awake was remembering DeWitt Sadler's eyes. My dick was hard as a rock. I slowly stroked it in the darkness of my room. The foreskin moving back and forth over the sensitive head brought relief in waves of pleasure as I deposited my seed on my stomach and chest. Sleep began to come to me even as the guilt from my self abuse settled into my mind. I knew I'd have to confess to impure thoughts and to touching myself. Old Father Maggiotti always gave a heavy penance for my "sins of the flesh."
I caught the bus at seven the next morning in order to be on campus for my eight o'clock chemistry class. Damn, DeWitt Sadler was in the class! In fact he was in all my classes that morning...math at nine, biology at ten, and English comp at eleven. He smiled and nodded to me as we started each class, but since I'd deliberately chosen each time to sit in a different part of the room away from him, I was able to concentrate on the professor and not on his long, muscled, brown legs extending from his cargo shorts to the tops of his Nikes. 'Get a grip, Joe!'
We had our first preseason basketball practice that afternoon at two. It was mostly drills. I knew that Coach and his staff would be sizing all of us up. I wanted one of those open starting positions so I put everything I had into the drills. I was darn good, but there were a lot of other good players on the team. Each one of us had probably been "the star" on our high school teams. This was going to be tough. I managed to avoid DeWitt Sadler through most of the practice. We didn't do any one-on-one drills so I was never paired with him. After practice I grabbed a quick shower and headed out the door to catch the bus back home.
The next morning, a Thursday, was my first laboratory for the biology class. There were only about twenty students in the lab as opposed to the eighty or so that had been in the lecture the day before. Darned if DeWitt Sadler wasn't in that lab also. I wondered if he was a bio major like me since we had the same class schedule. That would be just one more area of competition between us. I knew he had to be smart. Stamper Academy didn't let in any dumb kids...or any poor ones. Again we nodded greetings but sat in different parts of the lab. My lab partner was a cute, bubbly girl with big boobs who was doing her best to come on to me during the lab. I wanted to tell her she was wasting her time. She finally got the message when I gave her no reaction after a couple of weeks of pushing her boobs into my arm whenever she could. Sadler's lab partner was a big boned and stocky guy who looked like a football player.
That afternoon at practice we did more drills, but this time the coaches had us paired one-on-one for the drills. Wouldn't you know it, they put me with Sadler. It was just like all those games in high school against Stamper Academy. I needed to show the coaches who was the better player. It was hard because Sadler and I were well matched, but I think I beat him out that day. We did a lot of pushing and shoving of each other, and Coach called us down on it a couple of times, but I still thought I showed 'em I was better.
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WITT'S PERSPECTIVE:
Joe Ronkowski and I had all the same classes. Not that it seemed to make any difference to him. He managed to avoid sitting any where near me. We'd make eye contact sometimes before or after class, but then he'd always look away. That dude was cold! I couldn't figure what his problem was.
The first day of basketball practice I watched Joe running the drills. Even if the guy was an asshole, he was a good looking one. It looked like he'd worked outside during the summer because he had a tan on his face and arms. The tan wasn't really all that dark, but with his light complexion, it was probably all he could get. His eyes were always moving. I'd noticed those eye movements before when I was playing against him. He seemed aware of everything that was happening on the court. And he hustled his butt off. I knew we were probably contending for the same position so I made sure the coaches knew I was hustling too.
The next couple of days in practice the coaches had us doing our drills in pairs, and they had Ronkowski and me paired. Dang, it was just like the games back in high school. That guy was competitive and aggressive.
After three weeks I was getting into the swing of school. I made sure to keep up with my studying, but even with practice every afternoon, I had plenty of time to make friends on the team, the dorm, and in classes. I didn't see Ronkowski mixing much with anyone. He never stuck around after practice to shoot the shit with the rest of the guys on the team. He just took his shower quickly and disappeared without saying much to anyone. I tried to talk to him a couple more times between our classes, but he just shut me down with those icy cold eyes of his. I never saw him smile.
On the basketball court he was like a different person. He really came alive. He was always chattering encouragement at the other guys...except me. Everyone tried to keep up with Joe. He sort of set the standard of performance for the rest of us on the team. I finally decided that he was just really shy except on the court. He sure wasn't shy when he was guarding me during team scrimmages. He was right in my face all the time, and I was getting damned tired of it.
During one of our post practice bull sessions, I asked some of the other guys what they thought of Ronkowski. Most of the guys agreed with my observations that he didn't interact much with the team outside of practice but that he worked his ass off for the team during practice. They'd also noticed that he was especially aggressive when he was playing against me. I was glad it wasn't just my imagination.
One of the guys said, "Witt, I don't know what you did to piss the guy off, and I sure wish I did 'cause I don't ever want to do it. He's all over yo' ass like flies on shit."
It all came to a head in late September. We were scrimmaging, and I was playing against Joe...again. If any thing he was more aggressive than ever. He pushed, he stuck his hand in trying to steal the ball, and I was about to lose my temper.
We were under the basket. I went up for a shot and he chopped my arm as I was shooting. Big foul! My shot missed. He got the rebound and came down with his elbows swinging. He caught me on the cheekbone and sent me sprawling on the court. That was it! The bastard wasn't going to do that any more!
The next time he had the ball I just plain ran right into him sending him off the court and into the bleachers. He came up with his fists clenched like he was going to take a swing. I squared off waiting for his attack.
Whistles blew all over the court. I think every coach had seen our little exchange.
Coach Melton told everyone to hit the showers. As we were heading to the locker room he yelled out, "Ronkowski! Sadler! In my office right now!"
We followed the coach to his office. Inside he shut the door and told us to sit down. There were only two chairs on our side of the desk, and they were so close together our sweaty legs were touching when we sat down.
Coach started right in, "Gentlemen, I don't know what the hell problem you two have with one another, but I've had enough of it. I know you guys played against each other in high school, but that rivalry has got to stop. You're on the same team now. You need to act like it.
"You're both good players with a lot of potential. You could both help take this team to a league championship, but a championship takes teamwork, and what you're doing now is the opposite. You don't pass the ball to the other when he's open. You mix it up when you're opposite one another. What you guys did out there today would get you thrown out of most games, and I'm not going to have it.
"You guys are either going to start treating each other like teammates or I'll have both of you off the team. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Yes, Coach."
"Good. Now here's what your going to do. I checked your schedules. You've got the same classes. I want you to study together twice a week for at least three hours each time."
Joe interrupted, "But, Coach, I'm not on campus at night."
"Ronkowski, transportation is your problem, not mine. Do it."
He swallowed. "Yes, Sir."
"You're not only going to study together, you're going to eat lunch together twice a week, and when the team travels, you're going to be roommates. If you can't learn to get along with one another by mid season, then one or both of you will be gone. Now I'm going to leave you two in here to talk about this. When you've got it settled go hit the showers, and come back on Monday with different attitudes."
Coach stormed out of the office leaving Ronkowski and me sitting there in silence.
I looked over at him. His face was even more pale than usual. His fingers were digging into the arm rest of the chair. He looked down in his lap and took a deep breath.
"I've got to have this scholarship." I could hardly hear him.
"What?"
He looked in my eyes for the first time since we entered the coach's office. His eyes were the same clear, light blue as always, but they were no longer icy cold. For the first time I saw something behind those eyes. It wasn't fear exactly...uncertainty maybe...whatever it was, the coldness was gone. To me, his eyes were beautiful.
"I can't loose this scholarship. If I do, then I can't come to school."
"What is it you have against me, man. You aren't the most sociable guy on the team, but you seem to get along okay with every one else. You act like I just took a shit on your front porch."
He looked down at his hands. "I...I'm sorry, DeWitt. We had some rough times playing against each other in high school, and when I found out you were going to be on the team here at Alberts College, I figured we'd be vying for the same position. Can we work this out?"
"We can work on it, but first you have to stop calling me DeWitt. Everyone just calls me Witt. When do you want to get together to study? We've got a test next Friday in chem. I'm having a little trouble with some of the problem sets."
A fleeting smile appeared on his face. It stunned me. It completely changed his face. Now the dude was darned good looking any time, but that slight smile almost made my heart stop.
"I could use a little extra work on those too. I live off campus so it's hard for me to stay here on campus after practice. Could we make one of those study times on a weekend."
"How about Saturday afternoon?"
"Good. Where?"
"Library or else come up to my dorm room."
Again, I saw something, maybe a slight hesitancy, flash in his eyes. "Let's make it the library."
"Okay. Let's go get a shower. We're kind of stinking up Coach's office."
"Yeah." There was that slight smile again.
The other guys were finishing up in the locker room by the time we got there. We had the showers all to ourselves. I realized that this would be the first time I'd get a good look at Ronkowski in the buff. We'd been showering with the team for a month, but he was always in and out of the shower quickly, and I hadn't been able to discretely 'check him out' like I had the other guys. I was looking forward to this chance!
The show was disappointing. Not in what I saw, but in how brief it was. The dude really took fast showers. He had a patch of black hair between his pecs and a few stray hairs around his dark nipples. I also got a good look at his package while he was rinsing his hair. He was uncut, and that fascinated me. I'm cut so I've always wondered what it would be like to still have my foreskin. There had only been a couple of uncircumcised guys back in high school. I'd seen them in the showers, but I'd never really had a chance to check them out. Joe's dick was nestled in a thick forest of black hair. It looked to be about 4-5 inches in length with the foreskin almost completely covering the head. His scrotum looked full and hairy.
Unfortunately, the kid was done with his shower and out into the dressing area before I had a chance to study him much. Damn!
I like a nice long shower, but I hurried the rest of my shower hoping to catch more looks as he was dressing, but that didn't work 'cause I really couldn't see his locker from mine without being too obvious. Damn again.
I was just pulling on my jeans when he came over fully dressed. He stuck out his hand.
"Thanks, Witt. I guess I've been kind of an asshole."
I took his hand and flashed my best 'come to me, baby' smile. "What do you mean 'kind of'?"
I was rewarded with another ghost of a smile from him. "See you tomorrow afternoon."
Then he was gone.
(To be continued)