Back In The Game

“Well, Mr. Andrews, I have some good news,” announced Dr. Cavanaugh as he walked into the office. A slight, older man no more than 5’5 tall topped with a full head of snow white hair, the doctor complimented his short stature with bright ties decorated with an array geometric shapes that seemed to dance off the fabric, and fill the otherwise dull hospital room with a spark of happiness and whimsy. That consistent yet subtle joy the doctor carried with him from appointment to appointment was something that Ethan Andrews had come to expect and in many ways count on over the last two years.

The doctor sat with a heaving sigh as he placed a crisp blue folder on his sparsely appointed desk. 

“You know, this is the first time I’ve sat all day,” he confessed, looking at Ethan seated across from him. “And I haven’t eaten a thing either.” He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and rummaged around blindly for something edible.

“Doctor, if the tables were turned, you would have some choice words for me, you know that right?” Ethan offered with a smirk causing the doctor to swat the air like he was hitting the words away from his person. 

“Ah here it is,” he said, pulling out a small packet of almonds, raw and unsalted, of course. “Do you mind?” 

Ethan shook his head, giving the doctor a cue to carry on. Dr. Cavanaugh was older, yes, but he had the energy of a 22 year old. Despite his vigor, Ethan still worried about him. If the last two years had taught him anything, it is that life is precious at any age and Dr. Cavanaugh had become a rock for Ethan, a source of comfort and, admittedly, humor. 

“Alright, alright,” the doctor repeated between crunches of almonds. “Where were we?” 

“You, uh, were saying something about news… good news?” Ethan asked with curiosity and apprehension. “Good news” to Dr. Cavanaugh could mean a bevy of things but given the setting, Ethan was hopeful that it was related to his illness. 

“Ah yes. You, my boy, are officially cancerfree,” he picked up the envelope and handed it over to Ethan. “The last tests came back clean and your white blood cell counts have stabilized. It’s all there in black and white, but let me know if you have any questions.” 

“Cancer free,” the words echoed in Ethan’s head as the rest of the room went silent. He was sure the doctor was continuing on about something but he couldn’t get past those two words. They rang out almost as profoundly as the three words people like him most feared hearing: you have cancer.

He could remember that moment like it was yesterday. 31 and brand new to the city, Ethan had worked tirelessly to secure a promotion as a way of exploring a new part of the country and have a bit of the adventure that he so desperately craved. He was ready to start this next chapter with the energy he brought to everything he did. His apartment was great, his colleagues were awesome and his clients loved him. He was even thinking about committing to dating someone seriously, no more being “too busy” to go on more than one date. He had some type of event or party every night of the week and was even thinking about joining a rec soccer league, something he had loved but quit after an injury in college. For the first time in his life he truly felt alive and like he was unstoppable. 

That was until his annual physical changed everything. His mom had been harassing him about going to see a doctor since he moved. Even at 31 she still had power over him in the way that only a mother can. It wasn’t that he hated the doctor, it was just that he didn’t feel like he needed it. Finding a doctor, making an appointment, etc. these things would take time but as she continued to insist, he relented. She promised that he was young and nothing would be wrong and it was just for her peace of mind. Ethan had foolishly believed her. 

The invincibility he had felt started to vanish the day his doctor noticed a small mass on his testicle during his exam and then again further when the biopsy came back malignant. By the time all of the tests were completed and he was seated in the office of oncologist Dr. Barry Cavanaugh, Ethan was a shell of the man he once was. Defeated, lonely and scared. 

“Mr. Andrews, you have cancer.” The words shot from Dr. Cavanaugh’s lips and pierced every inch of Ethan’s skin, sending shivers up and down his spine. Cancer was bad. Cancer meant death. Despite what the doctors said about having caught it early and a positive prognosis, Ethan had trapped himself into a vicious cycle of doom and gloom. It would be through Dr. Cavanaugh’s support along with the work of his team of doctors and nurses as well as his new friends that Ethan would muster the courage to fight his disease and, as of this morning, beat.

“Mr. Andrews?” The doctor’s words cut through Ethan’s reminiscence and brought him back to the present. 33 years old and cancer free. 

“Uh, sorry,” he apologized. “I, uh, was just thinking about the last two years, and how crazy this has all been. I, uh, can’t believe it’s over.” 

As an oncologist for over 30 years, Dr. Cavanaugh had had a fair share of these types of conversations but the look of relief on Ethan’s face filled him with the same joy as it did the first time” 

“Now, Mr. Andrews, you can’t get rid of me that quickly,” he smiled. “We’ll still have you in every three months for blood work but the hard part of the fight is over, but please take care of yourself.” 

The warm goodness emanated off of the doctor’s face and extended to his hand as he stood to offer it to Ethan. With a smile, Ethan reached out and pulled his doctor in for a hug, almost enveloping him in his 6’2 frame. Ethan felt like he could hear a muffled whimper come from the doctor. 

“Alright,” the doctor said, wiping the solitary tear from his eye. “Be gone with you! Suzanne will process those papers and schedule your next appointment.” 

“Thanks, Doc. See you in a few months.” 

Ethan walked out of his doctor’s office with an embarrassingly large smile. He knew Dr. Cavanaugh had many patients over the years but he could tell that their friendship was special. In fact, it was with all of the staff on the oncology team. Ethan’s positive energy and flawless handsomeness, even through the thick of chemotherapy, had won the affection of the nurses and doctors alike. They became his champions too so he wasn’t at all surprised when he approached the nurse’s desk to see Suzanne crying hysterically. 

Suzanne, like the doctor, was small. Probably 5’2 but she was a spitfire and incredibly strong. She employed a brand of tough love that was both comforting and terrifying at times. She and Ethan had gotten very close over the last few months so his news was just as happy for her as it was for him in many ways. 

“Not you too!” Ethan reached over the desk to hand his friend a tissue. 

“These are not for you, Ethan,” he lied. “I just saw a puppy befriend a duck on instagram and it really got me, okay?” 

“Sure sure,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Give me your fricken papers so I can process you and you can go.” She feverishly typed away trying to distract from the fact that she was so emotional. Ethan thought it was sweet but he wasn’t going to give his tough-as-nails nurse the satisfaction of knowing that. 

“Alright,” she declared. “All finished here. You, Ethan Andrews, are no longer my problem. Enjoy your health.” 

“So I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be there at 8.”

…

Ethan’s weekly dinners with Suzanne and her girlfriend Sara had become a sort of tradition over the last two years. “Dinner” was, in reality, a negotiable term as food wasn’t very appealing amid some of his harshest treatments, but, nevertheless, they always managed to get together in some way. Suzanne would tease that their “dinners” were the reason he was getting better but they both knew that it was just as important for both of their mental and physical health. 

“That was so good,” Ethan said, placing his utensils diagonally across his empty plate.

“It always is,” Sara agreed. 

They had chosen a hole in the wall French bistro restaurant called Etienne’s that was far from fancy but made you feel like you were dining in an authentic Parisian cafe along the Seine. The menu was limited and they had tried every dish at least once, but it was always delicious, just what they wanted. It’s that predictability that became the reason they found themselves there more often than not. Etienne’s was a constant during a crazy time of illness and volatility. 

As Ethan sat at the small round bistro table with his two friends masked in the warmth of the surrounding candlelight, he couldn’t help but smile in the same juvenile manner he had when leaving Dr. Cavanaugh’s office. 

“Why are you smiling like that, you dork?” Suzanne asked with a chuckle.

Ethan just looked down and shook his head like a wet dog shaking water off of its fur. 

“So, Ethan, now that you have a clean bill of health, you know what I’m going to ask you, right?” Suzanne’s question caused Ethan to cock his head up and reveal wide, inquisitive eyes. 

“No…?” he questioned, darting a glance to Sara who was as clueless as he was. 

“I know it’s been awhile but don’t act like you don’t remember.” 

Sara and Ethan met eyes across the table and then pivoted back to Sara. 

“Fine,” she huffed. “Ethan, when you started treatment you promised me that when this was behind you, you would get back on the soccer field and help me coach my cousin’s kiddie league team.” 

“Oh that” Ethan thought to himself. He had remembered all the promises he had made to himself and his loved ones when he got sick. All of the stuff he would do differently when he was better: try more foods, travel more, say ‘yes’ more. He had been so focused on his recovery that he hadn’t really thought about actually doing those things, but now that he was cancer-free he had to start, right? 

“Yeah, Suz, I don’t know about that,” he admitted. 

“Oh come on, Ethan. You said you would. You love the game and plus, don’t you think it’s time you get back on the field?”

It was true. He did love the game and if it wouldn’t have been for his diagnosis he would’ve found a rec team to join. Before cancer, the only major health issue Ethan had had was a torn meniscus that ended up being so severe that his college soccer career ended the moment he collapsed on the field. He was devastated. Ever since he was able to walk, soccer had been his life and even though he knew he’d never make it as a professional he at least dreamed of finishing out his college career on the team. When he couldn’t pay anymore, he felt a sense of loss that he could only liken to the diagnosis he received two years prior. In fact, this new post-cancer chapter of his life was like his post-soccer life in a lot of ways which sat in like a heavy knot in his stomach. 

“Ethan?” 

Suzanne’s words brought him out of yet another spiral into his subconscious. He wanted to say yes but he didn’t know if he was ready to get back on the field even if it was as a coach for a brunch of 8 year olds. 

“Sorry,” he offered. 

Suzanne felt for him but she knew that this activity would be good for him. The girls on her team were full of the innocence and life that had been beaten out of Ethan the last two years. What they were playing didn’t always resemble soccer but it was still the sport she knew he loved. They had a lot to teach him and she, selfishly, could use his help to match their chaotic energy. 

“You don’t have to decide now but please think about it,” she extended a hand across the table. Even though she wasn’t touchy-feely, she did have her moments and Ethan knew it. He reached to meet her hand and gave it a quick squeeze but she held on. “Our first practice is next Wednesday at 6:30, okay? I’ll text you the deets in case you decide to be my right hand man.” 

… 

He knew he would say “yes” to being Suzanne’s assistant coach the moment that their hands had touched at the restaurant last week. There was an aire about Suzanne that had a way of convincing you without trying. That didn’t, however, change the amount of anxiety he felt the Tuesday night before the first practice. Ethan tossed and turned for what felt like hours in the soft white sheets of his queen-sized bed. What if the girls were mean or didn’t like him, what if he couldn’t keep up, what if he got winded or, worse, re-tore his injury. 

“Ethan. They are just little girls. This is supposed to be fun,” he said out loud to himself into the dark void of his bedroom. 

The truth was that Ethan’s illness had left him scared of the world. Afraid to take risks or try anything new in any facet of his life. He played it safe at work, in life, and especially romance, if that was even on the table. He had completely lost his nerve and any bravery he had to the point that the thought of meeting 12 children inched him closer and closer to a panic attack. 

Sweat beaded across his brow and along his temples as the constant tossing took its toll on his body. Having had enough, Ethan decided to leave his bed and try to find solace on the couch in front of his television. 

The cold material of the leather couch pressed against his bare back as he sat squarely in the center of the sofa. The cool feeling would normally send a shiver across his body but the sensation was a welcomed distraction from the aching worry he had been feeling moments before. He reached for the remote to flip scroll through the various streaming services he subscribed to but rarely used before landing on a documentary about the ocean. The soothing tenor of the narrator’s voice paired with the coolness of the sofa should’ve qualmed his anxiety and lulled him into a deep sleep, but it didn’t. He stared wide-eyed at the whales floating across his screen and resigned himself to the fact that his anxiety had one this round. 

“Ughhhh,” he heard himself moan as he covered his face with his hands and threw his head back toward the frame of the couch. 

Normally, well, before he got sick, Ethan had a trick for restless nights that always seemed to work and that was, well, relieving himself. Since his diagnosis the treatments and medication took a toll on his libido and made him feel anything but sexy. He hadn’t been on a date or had sex of any kind in almost two years. If it weren’t for his commitment to forcing himself for a weekly session of self-pleasure he would be completely celibate.

Instead of spiraling further, Ethan pulled out his phone and typed “gay porn” into the icognito browser on his phone. He knew it wasn’t a very creative search when you think about the never-ending abyss of fetishes and sexual curiosities, but the thought of having to commit to anymore decisions that day was not appealing to him or his anxiety in any way. 

Big Cock, Twink, Asian, Cum Dump, Stepdad, Missionary and other sexual terms flashed before him, almost taunting him for not knowing what the hell he wanted. 

He flicked his thumb up scrolling through the page of famous and not-so-famous private parts but was left uninspired by the offering. 

“What is wrong with me?” he thought as he stared down at the outline of his flaccid penis pressed against his sleep shorts. 

…

The next morning he found himself sprawled across the couch and felt a crick in his neck, cursing both his anxiety and inability to reach sexual gratification. 

Ethan lazily dragged himself into the shower, half asleep from the restless night, and tried to disappear in the warm water that enveloped him. He grabbed a handful of soap from the container, lavender, which always seemed to comfort him, and spread it into a lathery foam across the ridges of his toned physique. He massaged the soap into the firm flesh of his chest and began to smile. The sensation reminded him of a tryst he had in his freshman year of college with one of his teammates in the shower one night after practice. Jorge  was a senior on the team and, while one of the most accomplished players, has little presence outside of the field. He was of average height and average build, but stood out among his teammates with his hair, dark bouncy curls that almost reached his shoulders. Ethan loved to watch Jorge as he played. Not only because of his skill on the field was the way his curls seemed to dance as he ran, a stark contrast to the intense severity on his face. 

The evening in question started off as a normal one. Practice was long and exhausting, leaving the entire team panting from fatigue. Team protocol dictated that one of the junior team members was responsible for collecting pinnies and any equipment left on the field, and locking it up in the store room. “You’re turn to lock up, Andrews,” the assistant coach said, throwing Ethan the keys. Normally, Ethan wouldn’t have minded the task but Ethan had overworked himself with this practice in an effort to prove his worth to his older teammates. Ethan nodded, putting the lanyard that held the keys around his neck. 

As he gathered materials on one side of the field he noticed someone on the other side of the field. He approached and noticed that it was Jorge, grabbing the small orange cones that outlined the parameters of their agility drills. 

“You don’t have to help,” Ethan called out. “It really doesn’t take that much time.” 

“I know,” Jorge responded curtly, bending over to grab another cone. 

An icy silence fell over the field as they worked their way back to the sideline where they were gathering the supplies and their belongings. 

“You know, you don’t have to work so hard to prove yourself,” Jorge shared, looking down into his duffle.

Ethan wasn’t sure how to respond. Jorge’s comment was one thing but his voice was another. Jorge spoke so infrequently that Ethan had forgotten how deep and smooth it was. 

“You’re really good. Probably one of the best on the team and one who questions that it just threatened.”

Ethan nodded, muttering a quiet “thanks” under his breath. 

“And if you keep pushing yourself so hard, you’re going to hurt yourself. And, selfishly, I don’t want that because we need you to win, and I like to win,” he threw Ethan a smirk. 

“Alright,” Ethan replied with a subtle smile. 

“Come on, let’s get this crap inside,” Jorge said, motioning toward the door to the locker room facility. 

After the supplies were locked away, Ethan thanked Jorge again and headed toward the door. 

“Hey… do you want to grab a quick shower,” Jorge offered. “Seniors have access to the locker room after hours and it’s a hell of a lot better to walk home clean than not.”

Ethan didn’t mind waiting to shower until he got home but something about Jorge’s offer felt more appealing to him. 

They entered the dark room, flipping on the switch to the section of the room where the showers were located. The corridor contained 10 stalls, five on either side with thin plastic curtains functioning as makeshift doors. Most of the time, team members didn’t even close their curtains because they weren’t in the stalls long enough to bother.

Jorge stripped off his kit first in one quick movement, that Ethan made a mental note to learn, and headed into a stall. 

“Are you coming?” he called out to Ethan who was still standing in his grass-stained kit. He felt a weird sense of nervousness around the situation. He had seen Jorge and his teammates naked hundreds of times, but that had been just part of the game, an extension of whatever they did on the field. But this was different, there was something more intimate about showering with one other guy after everyone had gone for the day. 

Ethan stripped quickly and cautiously walked over to a stall across from Jorge’s and turned the water on. The heat felt good on his skin and his sore muscles. He let out a small moan but immediately clapped his mouth shut hoping that Jorge didn’t hear his momentary weakness. 

“Feels good, right?” Jorge spoke. “The best part of showering here after hours is that the water is actually hot. So much more enjoyable.”

“Yeah,” Ethan responded, still embarrassed by the moan. 

“Hey, do you want to use any of my soap? The shit they keep in here is so hard on my skin so I bring my own,” Jorge said. 

“Sh… Sure…” Ethan responded. 

“You’re going to love it,” he said walking across the aisle to Ethan’s stall and pulling the curtain back to expose Ethan completely. 

“Turn around,” he motioned to Ethan and started to lather up his back with circular motions.

“Feel good?” he questioned? 

“Mmm,” was all Ethan could muster as a reply. Sure, it was a little odd that his teammate was massaging soap into his back, but he was sore and Jorge was so good at it so it didn’t protest. 

As Jorge worked the soap into his back, he grabbed Ethan by the shoulders and motioned for him to turn around again. Now they were facing each other. Jorge looking up at Ethan’s tall frame and Ethan looking down at Jorge, almost wanting permission to make any movement. 

Jorge took another glob of soap and mixed it into a lather before placing his two hands on each of Ethan’s chest. His hands remained firmly placed on Ethan’s chest, warmed by the water and sturdy with the power of Jorge’s touch. Breaking his gaze with Ethan, Jorge began to massage his teammate’s chest muscles in circular motions that mirrored those he had done on his back. As his hands moved, Jorge’s thumb grazed Ethan’s hard nipple, forcing Ethan to let out another small moan. Reacting to his pleasure, Jorge continued the motion. Tweaking and flicking Ethan’s nipple, first the right then the left until Ethan was unable to quash another moan. 

“Is this okay?”Jorge asked with a direct sweetness that immediately made Ethan melt in front of him. 

Ethan continued to moan, growing more verbal with each flick. Jorge smirked at the power he wielded over his teammate but wanted more. With the same quickness with which he removed his kit, Jorge replaced his thumbs with his mouth, engulfing Ethan’s nipple in a hot warm dome. 

Ethan replaced his moans with a deep, guttural “ugh” as Jorge’s tongue danced with his nipple. Ethan’s hands, paralyzed until this point by the overwhelming sensations, began to wrap around Jorge’s broad frame. He dug his nails into his hard, wide back as Jorge made love to his chest. 

Ethan didn’t realize that his body could feel like this. Up until this point, his only sexual experience had been an awkward handjob from a guy at his senior prom in which neither of them finished or spoke again. He was acutely aware of the throbbing that was coming off of his cock but unable to release himself from the embrace of Jorge’s mouth on his body. Just when Ethan was at the threshold of feeling overwhelmed by the experience, Jorge pulled away and immediately planted a deep kiss on Ethan’s open mouth. As they kissed, their tongues fought for dominance and bodies pressed against each other like two cars crashing into one another. Their kiss was passionate but brief as Jorge moved to take Ethan’s wet earlobe into his mouth. 

“You are so fucking sexy, Ethan,” he muttered between soft nibbles on his ear. 

“Y… you are… too…” Ethan was cut off by a new more powerful sensation. Jorge had dropped to his knees and wrapped his full lips around Ethan’s member in a swift swallow. He licked up and down the thick rod of his shaft, tugging on his balls intermittently. 

A willingly but invalided participant, Ethan leaned his back against the wall of the shower and allowed his teammate to feast. 

As Jorge devoured him, pump after pump, Ethan knew he was reaching a point of no return. 

“I… I’m… Close,” was all he could muster.

Undisturbed, Jorge continued his job, hungry for his much deserved reward.

“I…,” Ethan called out and he knew it was over. He shot volleys of hot, thick cum down the eager throat of Jorge who didn’t even look up as he swallowed. 

When every drop was retrieved from the inside of Ethan’s sensitive shaft, Jorge rose and greeted his teammate with a messy, cummy kiss. His tongue fed Ethan remnants of his own seed, but not so much that Ethan thought Jorge was willing to share. He pulled away, leaving the taste of passion in his mouth. 

“I’m close too,” Jorge moaned. 

He feverishly stroked his cock as he went back to kissing Ethan. 

“Play with my balls,” he moaned between kisses. 

Never one not to follow directions, Ethan took his large hand and enveloped his teammate’s package in his hand, rolling them like marbles between tugs.

“Ugh… Just… Just like that, baby,” Jorge replied quickly. “I’m… cumming…” 

And with that declaration, Jorge unleashed a fire hose of spunk onto Ethan’s taught stomach. His thick cum mixed with water from the shower that was still beating down their backs and fell to their feet. 

Panting, they were both unable to speak and finished showering what remained of their exercise off of their tired bodies. 

Silently, they dressed. 

“I… uh… have never done that before,” Jorge said.

“Me neither,” Ethan replied. “But you were really good at it… like really really good,” he continued, surprising himself with his directness. 

Jorge smiled and they continued to dress. 

A reminiscing Ethan was brought back to reality with the sound of his alarm. Still in the shower, he found himself tugging at a now hard cock.

“Alexa, off,” he yelled into his bedroom to silence the distraction from his first potential orgasm in days. 

As he stroked, Ethan let out little moans that gradually got bigger. He recalled the sensation of that first time with Jorge and before he knew it, he was spraying the glass wall of his shower with an impressive volley of white cum.

After catching his breath, Ethan laughed. Jorge had made him cum again and wasn’t even there to claim his reward. 

…

Ethan’s workday went by without much consequence. The activities of the morning had calmed him down considerably but he was still anxious at the prospect of his first time coaching that evening. 

The clock at the bottom of the screen seemed to taunt him, with each passing hour feeling longer and longer. By 5:00pm, Ethan was so ready to get the practice over that he practically ran out of his office. 

The practice took place in the field behind the local elementary school. The vast green field was dotted with little people running around squealing with the unabashed joy that can only come from children. As he approached, Suz called out his name and waved at him before going back to helping one her players tighten her cleet. 

“You made it,” she exclaimed, giving him a friendly punch to the shoulder. 

“Ow,” Ethan retorted, a smile across his apprehensive face. “You knew I would.” 

“I did but there was still a part of me that wasn’t sure if you were going to let a few little girls scare you off,” she said with a wink. 

“All right, time to get this show on the road,” she said , looking down at her watch before placing her silver whistle into her mouth, giving it a hearty blow.

As Suz was herding the cats of her team into a huddle, Ethan noticed a straggler exiting a dark luxury sedan that nearly blinded him in the light. A small girl, the smallest of the team, he thought, gave an excited wave to the driver who sat behind the wheel. 

“Come on Sophie! We’re about to start,” Suz called to her with a smile. 

Sophie looked up at Ethan as she passed toward her team, an innocent but mischievous smile spread across her face. 

“Okay team,” Suz began. “As you see, I am joined today by a very special friend who is going to be helping me out with you little monsters. Ethan?” she called him over to her side. 

“This is Et…,” she stopped. “Do you want to go by Coach Ethan or Andrews?”

“E -Ethan is fine,” he smiled awkwardly. 

“This is Coach Ethan,” he continued. “He is one the best to ever play the game and you all are lucky to be able to learn from him. He is not as strict as me but you still have to listen to him, got that?” 

They nodded. 

“Anything to add, Coach?”

“Not really. Just excited to see what you all can do,” he smiled. 

It turns out, what they could do wasn’t much. Ethan wasn’t sure what he expected from a group of 8-year olds but it wasn’t such chaos. 

Rosie and Abby talked about boys in their class at one end of the field, while Jessica picked wild flowers at the other. A few of them ran around, but there wasn’t a whole lot of structure to their play. 

“Uh, Suz, is it always like this?” Ethan asked.

“Pretty much,” she sighed. “Some days are better than others but what do you expect after having spent all day at school? They see a field and they turn into hellians.” 

“Do you mind if I try something?” he asked. 

“That’s what you’re here for,” she winked. 

“Girls! Girls!” he called out across the plain. “We’re going to play a little game, okay? I want you all to line up, an arms length apart, okay?”

They nodded and stumbled into formation, not, of course, after much consternation about who was standing next to who.

“Have you ever played red light, green light?” he asked. Rosie proudly lifted her hand. “Rosie - great! Can you explain it to your teammates?”

“Well, there is a guy who says green light and you run and when he says red light you have to stop but if you move, you have to go back to the start,” she smiles. “Oh and the first one to reach the guy wins!”

“Exactly!” Ethan replies. “But we are going to play soccer-style. Coach Suz and I are going to pass out balls to each of you. Coach Suz is going to stand at the other end of the field. When she yells “Green Light” you dribble to her as fast as you can but as soon as she “red light” you have to stop, but if either you or your ball moves during a red light, you gotta go back to the start, okay?” 

“Well if she is saying the lights, then what are you going to do Coach Ethan,” Lexi asked. 

“I am going to beat you!” he smirked, falling into line with them. 

“Ready coach?” he yelled to Suz. 

“Ready!” she replied. 

“Green light!” and they were off. Like a swarm of locusts on a crop. Their giggles echoed across the field as more and more of them got sent back to the home base to start over. None of them were getting very far, but they didn’t seem to mind. They were having fun and actually learning how to handle the ball a bit. 

After a few rounds, some of the girls started to get a handle on the game and their balls. One of those girls was Sophie, the little girl with the mysterious driver. She played with a strange sort of intensity that he admired. He could tell how hard she was concentrating on the ball and the commands of her coach, showing much more discipline than her peers. A few calls later, Sophie was at the front of the group edging closer and closer to the end. By the time she was steps away from the end,  the rest of the girls had stopped playing all together to watch her.

“Go Sophie!!” a few girls called. She was undeterred by their praise. Her eye was on the prize. 

With one final green light, she pushed through and ran past Suz. The smile she gave off was one of pride and relief. We all cheered for her. 

Practice didn’t last much beyond the game and both Ethan and Suz were glad for that. 

“This… this is a lot of work,” he confessed to his friend.

“Tell me about it,” she replied. “If I could have an eighth of that energy, the things I could do.”

They smiled before calling the girls in for a final huddle. They finished with their hands in a circle and “go team” cheer, simple but effective. 

The girls ran toward their respective parents and guardians. Ethan could see the girls’ personalities reflected in their parents which made him smile. 

As the kids left, the same dark luxury call pulled up, presumably to pick up Sophie, the star of the practice. This time the driver showed himself, a taller man with a tight beard and short cropped hair stepped out. His broad shoulders were covered in the structure material of a navy suit while his pronounced chest stretched the delicate fabric of his white dress shirt. Tie removed, Ethan could swear he saw bits of dark chest hair against his caramel skin. 

“Daddy!” Sophie called to the man who greeted her with a gigantic smile, the exact same one she had after winning ‘red light, green light’. 

He embraced her with a big bear bug, showing both how small she was and how large he was. 

“See you next week,” Suz called to Sophie’s dad with a wave. 

He waved back and gave a small smile-nod to Ethan as he ushered Sophie into the backseat of the car. 

Ethan felt like he had been sucker punched in the stomach. The smile-nod was a polite gesture of human decency, but to Ethan it hit deep inside. 

“Hot, right?” Suz declared, breaking Ethan from his daydream or trance, he couldn’t tell which. 

Without stopping for a replay Suz continued. She shared that Marc, Sophie’s dad, was a 40 year-old attorney who, by the show of his car and ensemble, does pretty well for himself. She also said that my obvious attraction to him was not uncommon,  every mom this side of the PTA dropped their jaws every time he showed up at a school function. 

“From what I’ve been told, it is a blood bath when it comes time to volunteer for class field trips,” Suze whispered. “All of these moms want the chance to spend a day with Prince Charming.” 

Evidently, he couldn’t care less. Not that he wasn’t available. He was. A widower, in fact. His wife had died of cancer a few years back and since then he’s only had one priority: Sophie.

“He pays a nanny and everything, but he picks her up and drops her off at school and practices every single time,” Suz shared. “Talk about Super Dad.”

Ethan smiled at her comment but felt a pang in his stomach. Unlike the rush of attraction he felt when he first saw Marc, this feeling was more dour. Sure he was unbelievably handsome and seemingly well off, but he was also a dad in pain, raising a special little girl on his own. He couldn’t imagine how challenging that could be to navigate for both of them. 

“Come on lover boy,” Suz interrupted his thoughts again. “Let me buy you a drink to celebrate your first day of  coaching future olympians.” 

…

The next few weeks carried on without much consequence. Ethan worked, exercised, cooked, hung out with friends and coached. He introduced new games and exercises into practice that seemed to keep them engaged, for a little bit at least. Despite the success he was having with the team, he couldn’t get the complicated feelings he had about Marc out of his head. At the start and close of each practice he would do this little ritual. Sophie would get out of the car and he would wave, sometimes Ethan would wave back not knowing if Marc cared or even noticed. Then at the end, she would scuttle to her dad, hug him and hop into the back seat. Marc would wave at Suz and throw Ethan the same smile-nod Ethan was sure he gave to all strangers. He wasn’t special. 

“Okay ladies,” Suz bellowed. “Our first match is this weekend. Are we ready?” 

“Yes!” they squealed. They squealed at everything. 

“You have all learned a lot but what is the most important part of the game?” 

“HAVE FUN!” they screamed back at her. 

Suz smiled and dismissed them to their various pickups.

“Hey Sophie, your dad just texted that he is running 5 minutes late, okay?” Suze called out to her. 

Sophie nodded and sat with her legs crossed in the grass. 

“Do you want to kick the ball around while we wait, Sophie,” Ethan asked. 

“No offense, Coach Ethan, but I am tired,” she signed.

“Fair enough,” Ethan couldn’t help but laugh. 

Ethan offered to load the supplies into Suz’s trunk as she waited with Sophie which Suz gladly accepted. As he was closing the lid, a car pulled into the lot. The dark sedan was unmistakable. It was Marc. 

He barreled out of the car toward the field. Sophie spotted him and their greeting ritual continued. 

As Sophie situated herself in the car, Marc walked over to Ethan. His long, deliberate steps were graceful but strong, causing Ethan to stare a bit more than he intended. 

“Hey, Coach Ethan,” Marc called to him with a little wave. “Thank you so much for sticking around. I am sorry I got caught up with this client.” 

“No problem, Sophie is easy,” he smiled in reply, trying hard to hide his obvious blushing. It’s not like Ethan had never  spoken to a handsome man before but Marc was different, charismatic and effortlessly sensual. 

“She is but it really means a lot,”  he smiles back. “And sorry for not introducing myself sooner. I haven’t been so bogged down with work that I haven’t been able to manage more than pick up and drop off, and even that has been a struggle. I’m Marc.” 

Ethan took hold of Marc’s large, meaty hand and held  it tightly. He was surprised how soft his skin was. It didn’t match the rugged virality of his body and statute. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ethan.”

“Oh I know who you are. Sophie won’t stop talking about you. Coach Ethan this and Coach Ethan that. I haven't seen her have this much in a while. Thank you.” 

Their eyes met for what felt like eternity but was no more than a passing moment. Ethan could’ve stood there forever, looking at Marc looking back at him but Marc broke the silence. 

“Well, I gotta get this little one home and fed,” he said before walking toward his car. “But we’ll see you on Saturday. Good to meet you, Ethan.”

…

Saturday arrived quickly. Ethan woke up before his alarm and prepared himself for the big game. Or at least that is what he told himself. In reality, he didn’t need to wear his best athletic shorts or dab cologne behind his ears for a children’s soccer game but he did because of the off chance that he and Marc pick up where their fledgling conversation left off. He did say he'd see Ethan on Saturday after all. Ethan knew his school boy crush was never going to be anything more than just that, a crush. Marc was older, wiser, a dad and probably straight, Ethan questioned. He tried to recall the saying he and his friends used to say - “no one that attractive could possibly be straight” or was it gay? Ethan stopped himself from his day dreaming yet again. He needed to get to the field early. For Suz. For the girls. Not his straight, dad crush that he had only spoken a few words to.. 

Ethan arrived at the pitch around 8:30. Their game was at 9:00am sharp but he wanted to be there early to make sure he was there to greet any early-comers. Was Marc an early comer, Ethan wondered. 

At 8:45am Suz arrived. 

“How long have you been here?” she asked. 

“Uhh about 15 or so,” Ethan replied, looking down at his watch. 

“You don’t have to be so early next time or I am going to have to start calling you a narc.” 

“Since when is being early a crime?” 

“It’s not but these little trolls won’t be here until at least 8:55am. You’ve seen them at practice, getting them to do anything in a timely fashion takes a lot,” she smiled. 

Suz was right. The girls started to arrive at 8:55 with the last of them arriving at 9:05. Ethan saw Sophie as the pack of little girls but didn’t see her dad anywhere. Normally, families sat on the other side of the field from the teams - an attempt to keep the kids focused. 

By 9:15 the referee had arrived and they were starting to play the match. It wasn’t soccer what the girls played, but they sure gave it their all. Of course, a few girls were distracted by their parents on the sideline or occasional dragonfly that terrorized the field, but for the most part they kicked the ball and ran after it. One of our girls even scored a goal which was met by hugs from not only her teammates but the opponents too. The innocence of kids, Ethan thought. By the end of the 45 minutes, yes they only played for that long, the match was over. Keeping score was looked down upon for his age bracket but I secretly celebrated our 1-0 victory. 

As they wrapped up, the girls tore off their shin guards and cleats, much to their parents’ annoyance, and eagerly gobbled cold orange slices one of the parents had brought. 

“Does anyone want a gatorade?” a deep voice broke through the crowd. It was Marc, carrying a small cooler filled with ice cold bottles of pink and yellow gatorade. 

His offer was heartily accepted by many of the girls but none as enthusiastically as Sophie. She was always so excited to see her dad. See there was something special about him, Ethan thought. 

While the girls finished their drinks and fruit, Ethan saw Marc walking over towards him and Suz. 

“They played great today, didn’t they?” he asked with a smile. 

“They sure did. It almost resembled soccer,” Suz replied with a chuckle. Marc laughed. 

“Do you think any of them have what it takes to play D1, Ethan,” Marc asked Ethan directly. “Suz told me you were quite the star player in college.” 

Ethan shot Suz a “why didn’t you tell me you talked to him about me” look. She rolled her eyes and walked away. 

“Uh yeah. There is definitely some talent out there… for 8 year olds,” Ethan responded. “I mean, Sophie is on track. She is mature in her discipline and understanding of the game, much more so than her peers.” 

“Her mother would have loved to hear that,” Marc replied. 

“I’m sorry,” Ethan offered. “Suz mentioned that you lost your wife.” 

“Thank you, but it’s okay. Sophie is the spitting image of her and to know that she has the makings of a soccer player like her mom was, makes me happy,” he said with a soft smile. 

Ethan smiled back. 

“Hey this is kind of out of the blue but would you want to come over for dinner tonight?” Marc asked. 

Ethan went white. 

“I am having a sort of dinner party tonight and I would love to host you as a kind of thank you for everything with the team. I invited Suz but she said she has plans so if you don’t mind riding solo, we’d love to have you.” 

“Yuh… yeah… sure. I think I can make it,” Ethan stammered. 

“Great! I will text you the address and time. Suz gave me your phone number, I hope that was okay?” 

Ethan nodded, trying not to show his excitement or disdain for Suz’s sneakiness. 

…

Ethan pulled up in front of Marc’s house right at 7:00. He knew he was punctual but he figured this was better than showing up at 6:30 when he was ready to. He checked his reflection in his mirror, and did a few minor adjustments to the light blue button up he was wearing. He grabbed the loose bottle of wine from his passenger seat and made his way nervously to the front door. 

The house was beautiful. Perfectly symmetrical except for the ivy that found its way up the right side of the house. The dark red bricks 

Knock knock. 

Ethan cringed at the volume of his knock and waited patiently for the door to open. 

“Ethan,” Marc dressed in a tight maroon shirt and jeans said as he opened the heavy black door. “You’re here!” 

Ethan smiled, not sure what he was supposed to reply. As he entered the home, he was greeted by a delicious smell of food cooking mixed with freshly baked bread. If it weren’t for the intoxicating amora it wouldn’t have taken him so long to release he was the first and only guest. 

“I… I’m… sorry. Am I early? I thought you said 7?” Ethan questioned. 

Sensing his discomfort, Marc placed his large hands on Marc’s arms and gave them a tight squeeze. 

“Ethan. You’re fine. I said 7 but completely forgot to tell you that 7 for my friends is more like 8,” he said with a smile. “But this is perfect. We can have a drink while we wait and you can watch the oven while I get dressed quickly.” 

“Okay,” Ethan replied. “Oh and I brought this… for you,” he handed him the bottle of red wine. Ethan knew very little about wine but the guy at the store said it was great as a host gift. 

“Ah one of my favorites,” Marc replied. “Thank you, Ethan.”

Ethan smiled. 

“Now I am going to change real quick. Can you just hang out in the kitchen and make sure nothing catches on fire?”

With that, Marc jumped up the stairs leaving Ethan alone. 

The interior was like the exterior. Beautiful. Not a piece of furniture out of place or a detail overlooked. The kitchen was large and white, with a great marble island in the center of it. The room was full of a comforting smell that felt both like home and a hotel at the same time. As Ethan surveyed the room, his eye was drawn to a large black and white photo on the hall wall leading into the living room. It was a younger Marc, a tiny Sophie and a striking woman. She looked like Sophie, but mature, grown and sure of herself and her beauty. Her dark hair fell delicately to frame her face and eyes showed true kindness. 

“Great picture, isn’t it?” Marc replied from behind Ethan. 

“Mmhmm. Your wife is gorgeous. And Sophie was so small.”

“She really was,” Marc replied. “And Sophie has always been little. She was a tiny baby and has stayed that way ever since.”

“But what she lacks in size, she makes up for in character,” Ethan adds. 

“That she does,” Marc agreed “Speaking of lacking, I thought I asked you to make sure the house didn’t catch on fire?” 

“I was! Do you smell any burning?”

Marc rolled his eyes and they walked into the kitchen. 

Over the next hour or so Marc and Ethan talked and laughed and talked some more. From work to their travel wish list, Ethan was so overwhelmed with how easy the conversation came with a man who he had been too shy to speak to before. When the doorbell rang signaling a guest, they both had almost forgotten that there was a dinner party to preside over. 

By 8:45 all of the guests had trickled in. They were all beautiful and accomplished like Marc. There was another lawyer, a doctor, a CMO, a restaurateur and a business owner or two. Ethan felt wholly unqualified to share their company but they seemed engaged in everything that Ethan had to offer and included him without hesitation. They seemed genuinely interested in his career and work with the soccer team. None of them more so than Marc who sang his praises on several occasions. 

By 10:00 the dinner portion of the evening was over and dessert was served - small fruit and cream tarts with the options aperitif and or coffee, of course. 

“So Marc, are you ready for me to set you up yet?” Gloria, the other lawyer asked from across the table. 

“Oh don’t be so crude,” her husband responded. “He will let you know when he’s ready.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Marc replied. “And Gloria, I told you I won’t date another attorney… too complicated.” 

“But Marc, he’s lovely. You’d barely have to talk about work,” she replied. 

He? Ethan replayed her comment in his mind. Did he mishear her or, rather, hear what he wanted to hear? He had partaken in more alcohol than he normally did but he didn’t think that meant hallucinations. 

Seeing his confusion, Marc made eye contact with Ethan and gave him a closed lip smile.

Just before midnight, the party was winding down. Gloria had dropped the set up conversation for port, and was being escorted to her car by her husband. As the rest of the guests said their goodbyes, Ethan busied himself with clean-up, taking the plates and dishes and stacking them in mounds near the sink. 

“They’re gone,” Marc sighed, unbuttoning the two more buttons from his shirt, exposing a bit more chest hair. 

Ethan smiled, focused more intently on the dishes than his host’s relief. 

“You really don’t have to do that, Ethan! You’re my guest,” he said motioning toward the mess. 

“I really don’t mind” 

“But I do. You’re my guest,” Marc’s tenor had changed, forcing Ethan to acquiesce. 

“I hope you had fun,” Marc asked, changing the subject. 

“I did. Your friends are great. So smart and interesting.” 

“Just like you,” Marc added. 

“Ha,” Ethan replied, not sure of what else to say, 

“No seriously. My friends can be intimidating but you went toe-to-toe with them on every topic. I was impressed.”

Ethan blushed from embarrassment. 

“Especially Gloria, she can be really intense,” he continued. 

“Yeah, she has lots of plans for you,” Ethan replied.

“I thought you heard that. I could see it on your face. Want to sit for a minute,” Marc said motioning toward the couch in the living room. 

Ethan sat awkwardly, like a kid who had been sent to the principal’s office. Marc sat beside him, not so close that it was uncomfortable but more close than he needed to.

“I… uh… I’m gay, Ethan,” Marc admitted. 

Ethan looked confused.

“I know… I know what you’re thinking. You have the same face that all of my friends had when I came out to them too. And yes, my wife knew. I came out to her right before she got sick. When we got the diagnosis, we both decided it was best to stick together for Sophie and for each other. I loved her, heck, I still love her but I came to realize as I got older that the love I felt for her wasn’t the love either of us deserved. She was my soulmate, no question about it but it wasn’t a romantic, passionate love affair we had convinced ourselves it was. 

Ethan sat expressionless. Of course he didn’t care but at the same time he didn’t know what to say. Marc continued. 

“So after she died and the initial gut punch of grief wore off, I started to come to terms with what my sexuality meant and what I wanted out of it. I told my friends and Sophie, and started to figure out how to live life as my true self. As a man she’d be proud of.”

Without thinking he scooted over and grabbed Marc’s hand to comfort him. 

“Th.. Thank you for telling me that,” Ethan said. “I can’t imagine how hard all of that must have been but I know she is proud of you, wherever she is, and I know Sophie is too, even if she doesn’t totally understand it yet. 

“Thanks,” Marc replied, wiping away the blobs of wetness that had welled up in his eyes. “But while I am being open with you, I have something else to confess.” 

Ethan’s eyebrows raised. 

“I invited you over tonight to thank you but also because I… want to get to know you better,” Marc confessed. “I heard the way Sophie talks about you and figured you have to be pretty special to win you over, and then when I met you in the parking lot that time, I knew it was true.”

“I’m not sure what to say,” Ethan replied. 

“There is no pressure here. A single dad with an insane job and very little gay experience  is probably not too high on your list of matches, but that connection I felt with you was solidified tonight when we talked and spent more time together. I… I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you how I felt.” 

As Marc’s sentence finished, something came over Ethan. Whether it was the wine, or the absurdity that this Marc could ever doubt someone wouldn’t want him or sheer adrenolyn, Ethan moved around across the couch to meet Marc, and placed his lips upon his. Marc’s beard tickled Ethan’s sensitive lips as they began to kiss each other back and forth. They seemed to be in a competition over who could offer more passion to their encounter. Ethan traced his hands along Marc back, as Marc pulled him closer to his lap. Marc let out a soft moan as Ethan added a soft bite to his full bottom lip, signaling to both of them that they were reaching both of their limits. 

They pulled away from each other and sat there panting, in delighted confusion at what just occurred. 

“Did that answer your question?” Ethan asked, unsure of where this new found confidence came from. 

“Ha… it does,” Marc replied with a chuckle. “You’re… you’re really good at that.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” 

They sat in silence for a minute unsure what the next move should be. 

“I want to ask you to stay over but I don’t want to move too fast or do too much while we’ve been drinking,” Marc replied. “If that’s okay?”  

Ethan looked up at him and smiled. 

“That’s the way I prefer it,” Ethan replied. Marc blushed

“But that doesn’t mean, I can’t hold you for a bit does it?” Marc asked. 

Ethan didn’t reply, simply snuggled into the crook of Marc’s large arm, wrapping himself in with it like a muscle blanket. 

…

“Wait… You slept over?” Suz bellowed between sips of her iced coffee.

“I mean technically yes but it wasn’t like that,” Ethan admitted. 

He hadn’t wanted to tell Suz about his night with Marc because it sounded a lot more dramatic than it was. Yes, he had slept over at Marc’s house but it was only because he had had too much to drink and he was too comfortable to leave Marc’s embrace so he fell asleep. It wasn’t his intention to fall asleep like that but it just happened and he wasn’t upset about it either. Waking up in Marc’s arms was the most calm Ethan had ever felt. It was security mixed with tenderness, a feeling that Ethan couldn’t recreate even if he tried. It also helped that Marc was adorably groggy when they woke up. This large burly man turned into a squeaky teddy bear with the rising of the sun. His “good morning” could be confused with that of a young kid being woken up for school. 

Ethan liked the way that even in the morning, the added courage of alcohol rubbed off, they were still content in the decisions they had made. It was just a kiss or two, but Ethan knew it was more than that for both of them. Marc was a dad, an older man whose sexual reckoning was interrupted by the death of his wife, his best friend. Kisses for people who have been through that don’t mean nothing. For Ethan, there was heaviness too. He hadn’t realized it until he was safely home the next morning that he put two and two together that Marc was the first man he had kissed since his cancer diagnosis, since his whole world had changed and his body altered. 

An unfortunate side effect of eradicating this particular type of cancer from Ethan’s body was the loss of one of his testicles. While he didn’t need both, he rationalized that loss of one was purely cosmetic. Who would even notice, he found himself wondering. However, the longer he sat with the new reality of his body, the more felt less than and in some ways tainted. His oncologist connected him with a cosmetic doctor who could remedy the situation with a silicon fix. You won’t even be able to tell it doesn’t work, Ethan remembered the doctor telling him. But Ethan would know and he felt that if he were to want to be intimate again, his partner would have to accept this version of him. 

The promise of a romantic, much less sexual, exploration with Marc had once seemed thrilling, but now was caused a tight knot to form in his stomach.

“So are you going to see him again?” Suz asked, rattling the ice at the bottom of her now empty glass. 

“Yeah. We’re supposed to the weekend after next. Sophie is with her grandparents for the weekend so Marc wanted to take me out on a ‘proper date’.”

“That’s amazing,” she gushed. “But… Why don’t you seem sure.”

“It’s… it’s just been a while.”

Without responding, Suz grabbed his hand and gave it a tight, knowing squeeze.

…

The two weeks between their meetings did not fly by. Ethan kept in touch with Marc with cute texts and selfies here and there, but between being a dad and an attorney, there weren’t very many moments of downtime. Of course, they saw each other before and after soccer practice but those were only brief moments of hello and goodbye. Sophie needing to eat dinner immediately after practice wasn’t super conducive to long chats in the parking lot. 

The night of their first official date was Friday. Marc said he would pick Ethan up at 7:00 for dinner and drinks. He refused to tell Ethan where they were going because he wanted it to be a surprise but assured him that he would like it. When pressed up dress code, Marc retorted with cute but nice. Ethan didn’t think that was very helpful but the charm with which Marc gave the direction made up for the lack of specificity. 

At 6:45, Ethan found him standing stark naked in front of the long mirror in his bedroom. He didn’t do this much before he got sick but after he found himself very interested in the slight changes in his body, knowing that something can be so wrong without any sign of it. From this angle you couldn’t tell that anything was wrong with him. He had a full head of brown hair, broad shoulder and lean torso from all the years of soccer. His thighs were big and his calves were full and his ass wasn’t bad, at least he didn’t think so. But then he looked at his cock. Once his best friend, it now lay flaccidly as a guard to the place where the cancer once hid. If he hadn’t been so focused on catering to the needs of his phallus then maybe he would have noticed something was wrong sooner. 

He lifted his cock with his left hand as he examined himself. Soft, it still possessed a heft that would’ve made teen Ethan proud. With his right hand, Ethan grasped his scrotum. A once full sack, Ethan shivered at his new reality. He groped his ball, rolling it in his fingers out of force of habit but also as an homage to earlier days of more pleasure and less fear. He lightly tugged, remembering how it felt to be touched there. His cock began to grow in his left hand as Ethan allowed himself to fall into the release of self pleasure. Ethan gave his hardened shaft a few slow strokes when he was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. 

A message from Marc. Be there in 10, it read. 

Frustrated and flustered, Ethan jumped into his closet to get dressed. 

…

The dinner and drinks were incredible. Of course they were, everything was incredible with Marc, Ethan told himself. He had brought him to this tiny little hole in the wall noodle house on the edge of town. It was one of those places that you have to know about to find. Untainted by the influencers, the restaurant looked like it had been taken out of a small village in Japan and placed directly into the city. Marc and Ethan sat closely on a corner table, their knees touching and bumping, both because they wanted to and because there wasn’t much space. They chomped on small pieces of yakitori and slurped cold noodles while sipping refreshing glasses of sake and talking nonstop.

“I can’t get over how easy it is to talk to you,” Marc said with a glint in his eye. 

“I feel the same way,” Ethan replied. “I.. I can’t even believe it is after 10! What did we even talk about for that long” 

They laughed. 

As they wrapped up their conversation the waiter, a small Japanese man who not only made the noodles but also served as one of the waiters, dropped off the check. Marc and Ethan reached for the cards in their pockets. 

“Please put your wallet away. I invited you out and you put up with all of my bad dad and lawyer jokes, so please it’s on me.” 

Ethan shrugged. He knew that Marc would say something like that but he had to offer nevertheless. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “But I get the next one.” 

“So there’s going to be a next time,” Marc asked with a smirk.

Ethan rolled his eyes. Marc’s humor was classic rom com mal lead humor but he was charmed by it nevertheless. 

The pair walked down the alley toward the car. 

“That was incredible. I haven’t had food like that in.. well ever?” Ethan laughed. “Thank you, Marc.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Andrews,” he gestured with a slight bow. “You made for wonderful company.” 

As they walked, Ethan found another dose of courage and grabbed Marc’s hand, holding it tightly as they walked. Ethan’s courage was rewarded with a kiss, fully on the lips. 

…

Marc pulled up to Ethan’s apartment within a few minutes of their leaving the restaurant. Neither of them wanted Ethan to leave the car so they sat awkwardly and silently for a few minutes, waiting for the other to speak first. 

“I had a really great time tonight,” Marc spoke first. 

“Me too,” Ethan smiled. “And I meant what I said about next time.”

“I’d like that,” Marc said with a smile of his own. 

Ethan reached for the car handle when Marc’s arm stopped him. 

“Wait,” he interrupted. “Do… Do you want to come over?”

Ethan was silent. Of course he wanted to say yes but questioned whether or not he was ready for this step. 

“We can just watch a movie or something and I’ll take you home when you’re tired or you can sleep in the guest room. I swear you won’t have to sleep on the couch.” 

“Yes,” Ethan replied. And Marc sped off toward his house. 

They were barely inside the front door when they were grasping at each other with ferociousness of wild animals. 

Marc kissed Ethan up and down his neck, leaving no piece of skin untouched by his full wet lips. Ethan reciprocated with kisses across his cheeks and face, occasionally interrupted by an involuntarily moan of ecstasy. Ethan didn’t realize that his neck was so sensitive to the kiss of a man and Marc had no idea that kissing someone could be so erotic for him. 

Both men grappled with their jackets, shirking them off clumsily in different places on the kitchen floor. Leaning against the island that had once been home to fresh baked bread, Ethan was now feeling the pressure of Marc’s hardening cock against his thigh. Release me, it seemed to tease him, but Ethan knew that once the serpent was released there wouldn’t be any turning back. 

“Should we… Should we go upstairs?” Marc asked with a panting breath. 

Ethan nodded, knowing full well that his sex drive was in fact not broken but calling the shots from here on out. Marc led Ethan up the stairs to his bedroom. The large suite featured a king bed adorned with a modern wooden headboard. Flanked by a seating area to the left and the entrance to the closets and bathroom on the right, the bed seemed to know that it was going to be a key player in this encounter. 

Once behind the closed door of his bedroom, Marc grabbed Ethan in a full embrace and held him like a prize to claim. 

“You are so amazing,” he grunted between kisses. 

Ethan took that as an invitation to explore his host’s limits even more. His long slender fingers found the small buttons of Marc’s shirt and began to fumble them open. With each button released another few inches of dark chest hair growing freely from Marc’s hard chest. After a few attempts, Ethan managed to release Marc’s pecs from their cotton prison, exposing two erect, pink nipples bordered by a gate of hair. At this point, Ethan was a man possessed, intoxicated by the manly aroma of Marc and transfixed by the siren song of his tits. 

Ethan attacked Marc’s chest with a hunger. He swallowed his nipples and teased them with the soft point of his tongue. Evidently, Marc was unaware of his sensitivity and gasped as Ethan feasted, sucking, tonguing and biting in a rapid succession. 

“Oh fuck… I… I…” Marc called out, panting. “I need you on my bed.”

With one one sift movement, Marc lifted a startled Ethan and threw him onto his large, pillowy bed. Ethan laid there for a moment, dazed and aroused by how this man who shared his 6’2 height could throw his solid frame onto the bed like a rag doll. 

Ethan’s erection raged as he saw Marc’s shirtless body move toward him in an animalistic fashion. Greeting him with another sloppy kiss, Ethan grabbed Marc’s belt and hastily undid the belt and first few buttons of his pants. 

“I need these off of you now,” Ethan commanded, showing Marc that he too could be the assertive one. 

“Yes, sir,” Marc replied. “But you’re next,” he winked. 

As Marc pushed down his open pants to his feet, Ethan’s head went elsewhere. Logically, he knew that the course of the events would lead him to nakedness but he hadn’t remembered in the passion of the moment that it meant showing off his altered manhood. 

“Ethan, what's wrong?” Marc asked sincerely. “Did I do something wrong? Are.. am I moving too fast?” 

“No… It’s not you. It’s me.” 

Ethan knew how that sounded. The oldest line in the worst rom coms was always a signal that someone’s feelings were about to get hurt. Marc deflated, in more ways than one, leaned his large frame against the foot of the bed and waited for Ethan to say something to stop his over analysis of the situation. 

“I need to tell you something,” Ethan began, seeing the fear on Marc’s face. “No no, it’s not bad it’s just… different.”

Marc looked at him with a puppy dog face that both told Ethan he was okay and that he was there for him. Marc plopped, next to Ethan on the bed and held his strong thigh in his hand. Quite a sight they must’ve made, this burly older man in nothing but his underwear sitting daintily next to the fully-clothed coach of his daughter’s soccer team. 

“Tell me,” Marc said encouragingly. 

Ethan began to share his story with Marc. He walked him through that first doctor’s appointment and the diagnosis. He shared the levels of pain and anger and denial he felt during those early days. He told him about the friends he made because of his illness and the relationships he lost with people who couldn’t or wouldn't be there for him. As he spoke, Ethan could see the empathy and compassion pouring out of Marc’s heart. He could also see the pain. Their shared pain through the cruel disease that is cancer. Throughout the conversation, Marc got closer, holding him as he talked about waking up from the surgery they made him feel like less of a man and the journey Ethan took himself on to get to this point of being intimate with another man. After what felt like hours, they were finished. There was more to be said but not at that moment. All they could do was be silent in each others’ arms. 

Marc spoke first.

“Thank you for opening up, Ethan. You are so fucking brave and… and it makes me that more glad that I met you.” 

Ethan smiled. He still wasn’t used to compliments from Marc but he accepted them. 

“And… There is no pressure between us to do anything. Ever. Not until you’re ready. And even if you never are. We can talk about it, because I like you. I want to be with you, in any way I can get it.”

Ethan couldn’t think of anything to say to Marc so he kissed him. The kiss was wonderful but different. Where there was lust before was replaced with passion and understanding. Ethan felt lighter and freer, having told Marc his truth. He may not be 100 percent comfortable with his new reality but he knew he was comfortable enough with Marc to explore those limits. 

Ethan continued to kiss Mark with the passion of ancient lovers and gradually made a movement with his hand towards Marc. Interlacing their fingers, Ethan pulled Marc’s large hand to the hardening rod in his pants. 

“I want you. Now,” Ethan whispered directly into the ear of his lover. 

“Are you sure?”

Ethan nodded and Marc fell to the floor on his knees in front of Ethan’s growing bulge. Carefully, Marc undid Ethan’s belt and pants button before unzipping his fly with the precision of a surgeon. Ethan, overtaken by the moment, moaned through closed lips and laid back on his elbows. 

Marc pulled Ethan’s pants down slowly and threw them toward the couch nearby before returning to the tantalizing creature that pulsated under Ethan’s black briefs. Marc planted large kisses up Ethan’s thighs, causing the young man to wince. Upon reaching the bulge, Marc buried his face directly into the soft fabric. He nuzzled the hard cock in his prison, taking deep inhales of Ethan’s manly musk. 

“Please,” Ethan interrupted Marc’s interlude in a pleading tone. 

Noticing a dab of wetness on where Ethan’s precum had soaked through the cloth, Marc teethed on the bulge, sucking the salty bit of wetness like he was trying to get the last bits of melted candy off of it’s wrapper. 

“Marc… I…” Ethan panted.

Marc knew he had this boy right where he wanted him. While Ethan writhed, Marc tucked his fingers into the elastic waistband of Marc’s underwear. He held the band tightly and pulled down the briefs quickly, revealing a long, thick pole sticking straight up. Marc’s eyes widened at the sight of something that he had dreamed about countless times. 

Ethan looked down at Marc’s wide-eyed face, trying to decipher what his look meant. 

“You’re beautiful,” Marc said, and Ethan was reassured immediately. 

Marc took hold of Ethan’s cock with one strong hand at the base. He stroked his slowly, up and down so that Ethan could feel him touch every inch of his manhood. As he varied his pace and length of movement, Marc moved toward Ethan for what appeared to be another nuzzle. Instead, it was a motion that enveloped Ethan’s scrotum in the warm embrace of his mouth. 

Ethan moaned, more loudly this time, as Marc sucked and tugged on the stretchy skin that held Ethan’s one large ball. As Marc continued, pearls of precum fell between the crevices of his fist. When he was well and satisfied with his work, he released his mouth from Ethan’s body and his hand from his shaft, causing his partner to shudder in both relief and annoyance. Marc thought he could hear Ethan audibly question his actions but Marc was more interested in licking every drop of sweet precum off his fingers. 

“You taste so good,” Marc moaned, teasing Ethan by sensually swallowing each of his fingers until they glistened in saliva. 

Once Marc was cleaned up, he crawled upon the bed and straddled Ethan’s sweaty covered body. Ethan felt the pressure of Marc’s meaty legs cradling his torso. 

“What do you want, Ethan?” Marc asked, rubbing his hairy thighs along the sides of Ethan’s hairless body. 

“I… I want you, Marc,” he said, reaching for the protruding cylinder still covered by Marc’s briefs. 

“Not so fast…” Marc teased, swatting Ethan’s greedy hands away from his eager cock. “I am here to pleasure you.” 

Ethan didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he watched intensely as Marc removed his briefs slowly, one leg and then the other, to reveal a heavy, full, uncut cock. Marc’s cock bobbed as it acclimated to it’s new found freedom, taking moments to release spills of clear precum from it’s hooded hole. 

Ethan watched as Marc leaned over toward his bedside table, rifling through its contents to grab a fist full of something. Marc placed half of the items just out of Ethan’s reach at his side and held the other in his hand, a gold shiny piece of foil that was unmistakable to Ethan. 

“May I?” Marc asked with a smile. 

Ethan nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to, but Marc seemed sure so he acquiesced. 

Ethan watched Marc with the same vigor as he had when he revealed his throbbing member. He gently ripped the wrapper open and tossed the rubbish to the side. He slowly moved his hands, and the condom behind his back. Ethan jerked as he felt Marc’s thick fingers roll the cold rubber over his pulsing cock. 

Ethan didn’t know how he expected his night to end but it surely wasn’t like this. The next few moments were blurr. It was only when he felt the head of his cock meet the tight hole of the man on top of him that he realized he wasn’t dreaming. 

“I… need you to go slow, okay?” 

Ethan nodded, still dazed by the situation. 

Inch by inch, Marc’s hairy muscled ass surrounded Ethan’s hard member. Ethan could feel every rig of Marc’s insides as he gained more and more entry inside him. Marc could feel every inch of Ethan’s girth, paying particular attention to the electricity that seemed to flow from Ethan’s cock. 

Marc let out a gutter moan as Ethan’s cock reached its hilt. Marc felt the gentle tickles of the hairs at the base of Ethan’s shaft and was heartened by the fact that he was able to take his whole manhood. 

“Are you ready?” Ethan looked up at Marc with a hopeful gaze. 

“One second,” he inhaled deeply. “Yes… Fuck me.” 

That was the only direction Ethan needed. He started to slowly pump his hard rod into the tight recesses of Marc’s hole. Their bodies entwined, Marc synced his movements with the thrusts of Ethan’s pelvis. Unable to speak, they both moaned in a chorus of orgasmic pleasure. 

Suddenly, Marc fell onto Ethan’s chest, matting his chest hair into the pools of sweat that collected on Ethan’s body. He wrapped his arms around the boy in a tight bear hug as Ethan’s pumps into his hole quickened. Weakened from the pleasure, Marc took one last move to fully submit to the man that was deep inside him. With the same strength he used to throw Ethan on the bed, he rolled him over so that he could be mounted by him fully. 

Ethan smiled at the intensity of his act, marveling at Marc’s ability to move positions without ever letting Ethan’s cock exit his hungry whole. 

“I want to watch you cum, Marc confessed, styling a moan as Ethan hit a new position inside his canal. 

“Well, get ready because I don’t think I can hold off much longer,” Ethan pantted. “Your ass is incredible…” 

“Then let’s bring it home, babe,” Marc replied with a devilish smile. 

Ethan fucked his mate fully, deeply and intentionly. Every trust brought him and Marc closer to a shared climax and a similar ecstasy. 

Changing positions must’ve worked because Marc was the first one to unload. Holding his large legs in the air, Marc’s knuckles went white his quickened breath signaled his orgasm was near. 

“I’m… About to…” 

“Do it, please, do it.” 

“Cuuuuuuuummmmm.” 

With a final yelp, Marc’s cock unleashed volley after volley of this white cum, coating the curves of his hairy torso. Ethan gasped at the volume of cream that painted his partner and knew that his finish was only moments away. Quickly, he removed his shaft from the warm embrace of Marc’s hungry hole and presented it before Marc who was spent. 

Ethan ripped off the condom to reveal the glistening head of his strong pole. 

“I’m close too,” Ethan admitted, tugging his sensitive rod with both hands. 

“GIve it to me, babe.” 

Without hardly any warning, Ethan crossed his threshold and his cock began heavy ropes of cum across Marc’s face, landing not only in his chest hair but as far as his beard. 

Ethan moaned loudly, both from pleasure but also pride in his ability to finish so amazingly. 

When he came to, the initial intensity of his ejacualtion subsided, he glanced down at Marc’ cum soaked body and began to laugh. Marc, sensing Ethan’s joy, joined his chorus of laughter and pulled him down into a sweaty embrace. 

“That was incredible,” Ethan said as he poked his fingers into the pools of cum across Marc’s torso. 

“You were incredible,” Marc replied, taking his middle finger on collecting the cum that dangled from his beard. “And delicious,” he offered, placing the dollop of seed on his tired tongue. 

Ethan rolled his eyes so as to not show how aroused he was by that gesture. There would be a round two but he wasn’t ready just yet. 

“But seriously, that wasn’t too much for your first time since…” Marc asked sincerely. 

“Yeah, it was,” giving Marc a small kiss on his cheek. 

“Good,” Marc smiled. “Well, I guess you could say that you’re officially back in the game, coach.” 

Ethan rolled his eyes and dosed off to sleep, held tightly in his lover’s strong arms.