Bat Boy (Easton U Pirates 1)

Miraculously, I found a parking spot right in front of our apartment, which almost never happened, and went inside with the leftovers.

“Please tell me you brought food,” Hollister said, eyeing the bag I was holding.

“Of course.” I pushed the door closed with my foot.

“Fuck yes.” Maclain placed his cell down. “We were about to order delivery, and I am so sick of pizza.”

“I hear you.” They followed me to the kitchen, where Hollister grabbed plates from the cupboard, and they dug right in.

I cracked open a soda, then headed to my room to get a jump-start on my biology assignment. Except I had trouble concentrating, so I decided on a shower instead.

After I adjusted the water pressure, I sighed in relief as I grabbed my cock and tried hard not to make any noise—nothing stayed secret for long in this house, even in my own room, and especially not in the bathroom we all shared. But jerking off would definitely help me relax enough to study.

My fist tightened as I stroked myself, picturing a certain set of hazel eyes that ensnared me in their web before flitting away. Kellan liked to remain invisible during games, afterward too, and in reality, bat boys were supposed to fade into the background as they helped gather equipment and took care of things in the clubhouse.

But I’d always wondered what it would be like to see him in a different light, where he was totally himself and could completely let go. I enjoyed those little glimpses inside him, which was why I teased him so much. His cheeks would turn a rosy pink even as he rolled his eyes.

Still, it felt wrong to be thinking about him this way. He was the coach’s son, after all. Before my erection fizzled, I tried picturing someone else—anyone else—I found attractive. But it was no use. No one else made me feel like this, like my skin was buzzing. Better to just get it out of my system so I could continue acting chill around him.

So I closed my eyes and imagined Kellan’s smooth, lean chest—I’d only gotten a peek here and there when he’d change in and out of a team shirt, but it was enough to fuel my fantasies. My fist flew as I pictured us nude in the locker room together, maybe even during a shower, which would never happen, but a guy could dream.

Popping a woody in front of my teammates had always proved disastrous. It happened every now and again for most of us, and the guys loved poking fun. It was enough to keep me nice and soft most game days, that was for sure.

But now, picturing what Kellan’s cock might look like fully erect and surrounded by a patch of dark, wiry hair at his groin was enough to make me shoot all over my hand. I tilted my head against the tile, wondering how I’d never felt this—this intense feeling about another person, about another guy. Was I going through latent puberty or something? Fucking hell.

2

Kellan

“Will you be joining us this weekend?” Dad asked as I sat down to dinner with him and Mom. We would also be FaceTiming my older sister afterward, which we did every Sunday, since she lived in Arizona with her husband and daughter.

“Planned on it.” It was a doubleheader against the Turner State Rangers, and we’d be staying overnight in Columbus. I was only required to work home games, but Dad felt more comfortable with me attending to the players as opposed to the other team lending their bat boy as a courtesy. I’d become essential, which secretly pleased me, but also, I loved connecting with my dad in this way. I’d always loved sports, but was pretty crummy at playing them, so I was lucky when this opportunity arose last fall.

After dinner, I helped Mom clear the table, and then we caught up with Ava. My niece was approaching her terrible twos and had a whole tantrum while online with us. Ava was cool as a cucumber, though, which she’d obviously gotten from our mother. Mom was always chill in a crisis, and she was the first one I’d confided in when I came out in high school. When she told me they loved me and everything would be okay, I believed her. And she was right, except for some bumps along the way that only gave me thicker skin. You definitely needed that in the world of sports. So I kept my head down and worked hard for my dad. Unnecessary attention was frowned upon, and I wanted to make him proud.

As Dad walked toward his home office, he motioned for me to follow. He’d be poring over his notes and stats for the upcoming games. Good thing we were a sports family, or his workaholic tendencies would get old fast. Mom attended nearly every game, and my dream career was to work as a statistician for a team someday—though my degree would definitely open doors in other fields as well.