get in the game
by Velma
goose, varnish, burlap, titterChris wandered back into the darkened gym, the crowd of screaming teens long since gone, thankfully. He sat down, towel draped loosely over his shoulders, and picked at some of the peeling varnish, sighing.
He really sucked at basketball.
He'd blame it on the short thing, except Brian had clearly proven that hypothesis wrong.
Fucker. Really, he thought, the kid was a total show-off. And had a really mean shot from downtown. And looked awfully cute in that uniform.
Oh, sweet Jesus. He'd just referred to Brian Littrell as cute. He was pretty sure he was going to Hell.
Or maybe he was there already. The rustle of burlap behind him alerted him to another person in the gym, and he turned, squinting to see someone pulling a basketball out of the bag. Oh shit.
"Didn't get enough, Kirkpatrick?" Brian grinned, dribbling the ball as he headed toward Chris. "Decided to return to the scene of your beat down?"
Chris scowled. "I assure you that whatever skills I lack on the court I more than make up for off it."
"Oh?" Brian raised an eyebrow, smiling wider, if possible. Chris wondered if that hurt. Then he wondered if Brian had one of those mouths that defied the laws of nature by how far they opened. Then he wondered what that mouth would look like... Woah, ho, hello there with the musings of an incredibly inappropriate nature, Kirkpatrick, he thought, shaking his head. No, going to Hell was not a question of if, but when.
Chris tittered, then winced. Jesus, he was a fucking teenage girl, wasn't he?
Brian dribbled the ball around him a couple times, smiling. "The guys are headed out. You coming?"
Chris shrugged. "I'm kind of tired."
"Too bad," Brian said, bouncing the ball between his legs. "Never know. You could get lucky."
"Duly noted," Chris said, getting to his feet. He could've sworn Brian was hitting on him. But that was impossible, right? Because, uh. Brian Littrell was pretty much the poster boy for Straight White America, right?
Then Brian goosed him. Which certainly didn't rule out heterosexuality, but Chris was well-acquainted with the ancient art of ass-pinching, and really this had felt a lot more like copping a feel.
Chris looked at Brian curiously, who just smiled that infuriatingly sweet smile at him and threw an arm around his shoulder. "C'mon, Chris," he said. "I think maybe tonight the odds are in your favor."
- fin -