Every fucking eye is on me. I can fucking tell I’m under the microscope.
Add to that, Coach Karl comes out and he’s standing on the far end of the room.
It’s like the entire group now is using DeShawn to speak for them.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I deserve whatever the fuck happens to me,” I say. Then I sign and run my hands through my hair. Those golden fucking locks that used to get the panties wet. “I’m a total fucking jackass, man.”
If you’re wondering why I’m apologizing man, then let me break it down for you.
These are my brothers.
I did something intimate with Ethan in the one place that we hold sacred. The arena where we perform. For it to be splashed on national television and the brand that we play under to be tarnished because of actions that I partook in is entirely worthy of a fucking apology.
I didn’t realize that before. But I do now. It’s just probably too late.
DeShawn looks at me for a long moment and I can tell he’s looking and evaluating what he’s going to fucking say to me. I wonder how he’s going to start screwing the knife in. I’ve never been a jackass to him - but I’ve never gone out of my way to be nice either.
Fuck.
After what seems like fucking forever, DeShawn sighs.
He looks towards the television. I look over too. I’m stroking Ethan’s cock with my hand.
Fuck. This. Shit.
“Man, change the fucking channel off if they just gonna be broadcasting garbage all day,” DeShawn says and walks over to the table and picks up the remote. He points it and changes the channel.
It’s the Nightly News. And I’m jerking Ethan off.
He switches it to MTV.
I’m jerking Ethan off.
He switches it to Cartoon Network.
You don’t even wanna fucking know.
Finally, DeShawn just turns the entire thing off.
He looks at me. “I used to think you’re a prick man,” he says. I remain silent. I can’t fight back. “Walking around here with that whole ‘Colt fucking Stackford’ shit. Y
ou’re an assbag!”
There are some nods around the room.
“But shit,” DeShawn continues. “You ain’t never been nothing but straight with us and you play your fucking heart out. So if you’re standing there and admitting you fucked up and you made a mistake by doing something in the locker room, I’m cool.”
Holy fuck. What is going on.
DeShawn sees the confusion in my face. “I don’t really care what you do and who you do it with, man,” he says. There are a number of people who nod and agree. “Just don’t get your cum on me, though.”
I can’t help but fucking laugh. A few others do too.
“And shit, you might be more famous now than before, if that’s even possible,” DeShawn says. “Everyone knows fucking Colt now.”
Fuck me. My hearts beating so fast in surprise I can’t even fucking describe it.
They had me in probably the most vulnerable moment I have ever fucking been in my life. And they showed fucking mercy.