**All characters are 18+ years old**
So sorry for the delay in posting. Had some exams to do for school. However, coming back to this story after that had me invigorated to see what happens after the amazing weekend with Bruno. What does Clay do with the recording? What is Monday’s practice like?
I absolutely LOVE this chapter. And I also heard Adele’s “Easy On Me” for the first time today while writing it. So if you want a mood for some of the emotional parts/conversations, that is probably a similar vibe.
Thanks again to all still sticking around and being patient with me. The story is always evolving and being written as we read and learn about them together. I hope no one is frustrated or disappointed with how the story’s progressed and where we are headed.
Thanks for all the love and support! It means the world to me! Enjoy. 🙂
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This weekend was like a wonderful vacation from my problems, or at least the pressure of what I was supposed to do. Being with Bruno was incredible. He really made me feel amazing, just getting to be around him. So as I left my last lecture Monday and was heading to the field to change and run some laps to clear my mind I felt an anxiety creeping in.
My phone rang and I sighed, answering it as I pushed into the locker room. “Hello?” I breathed.
“I just saw some people with coach heading to the locker room,” Tyler started immediately and I hesitated, my forehead wrinkling. “They were wearing really expensive looking clothes,” he continued and I pursed my lips.
“What does that have to do with me?” I grumbled, dropping my bag on the bench as I stepped out of my shoes, pinching my phone between my ear and shoulder as I undid my jeans.
“Coach didn’t look happy,” he offered and I rolled my eyes.
“That asshole is never fucking happy,” I pushed my jeans off my hips, letting them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them, my ass against the cool locker as I picked them up off the floor. “You think they are here to talk to him about the issue with the news? Or do you think they are the people investigating me?” I adjusted my balls in my briefs, grabbing my compression shorts.
“No idea, just wanted to give you a heads up. I know you’re usually early on Mondays. I was heading there now to run laps with you, see how you were doing,” he admitted and I hesitated, feeling both happy and confused.
“How I’m doing?” I offered, adjusting my balls again as I fixed the tight fabric. I glanced down and smirked, cupping my bulge. My mind jumped to Bruno, wondering if he’d be turned on by me in this. I smirked, shaking my head at myself as I grabbed my shorts.
“With everything going on, yeah man. Am I not allowed to be worried?” he grumbled and I shrugged, snapping the band before tying it. The door opened then and I peeked around the locker seeing the group of people Tyler apparently saw. It was three men and one woman, all wearing really nice clothes as they walked with coach toward the office. None of them looked my direction, my heart racing.
“Clay you there?!” Tyler demanded as I pressed my phone to my ear.
“Yeah, but they’re here too,” I muttered, sliding my hand into my hoodie pocket. “I’m going to change quick and get out of here. Meet me on the track,” I hung up without an answer, yanking my hoodie and shirt off, grabbing my practice jersey and sliding it on. I threw everything into my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and grabbing my backpack when the door opened.
“Clay, a word?” coach breathed and I froze, my heart sinking.
“I am not stepping foot into that office without their consent to record. I am not talking with anyone-“
“You’re so difficult!” he grumbled, glancing back into the room. He leaned away, probably explaining the situation, then he turned and gestured for me to go the office. I set my phone up for recording, dropping my bags as I cautiously walked into the office.
“It’s nice to meet you Clay, have a seat,” the woman smiled, too warmly, gesturing at the chair in front of the desk. They were all standing in weird spots, the room feeling so tiny as I took a deep breath and sat down. “We wanted to talk with you,” she started, the door shutting. My heart was pounding as she sat down at the chair across from me.
“And you are?” I demanded, my forehead wrinkling in confusion.
“Ashley Davison” she breathed, obviously a bit miffed with my uncertainty. But she composed herself quickly, clearing her throat. “I’m the university’s president,” she explained and my stomach flipped.
“Why are you talking with me?” I glanced around the room and she cleared her throat, smiling as she adjusted her blazer.
“We understand there was an incident at your most recent game,” she started and coach cleared his throat. I looked at him, still confused as he glared at the floor. “There has been a lot of attention-“
“You can say that again,” I interrupted her, staring her down then. “What does istanbul travesti it have to do with me?” I demanded and she looked a bit floored.
“Well uh, eh,” she laughed with a throat clear, like she couldn’t believe I was certain the issue had nothing to do with me. “You understand what happened right?” she asked then, staring me down with the most intense and cold smile I had ever seen.
“A homophobic prick took his anger out on me for something I didn’t do?” I offered, leaning back as I crossed my arms. “He benched me for being gay. He admitted to it. I have it on recording. My team didn’t like that so they took a stand. That has nothing to do with me,” I shrugged, my leg shaking as I clenched my teeth together. I had a lot I wanted to say, but I could hold back.
“Well since the original incident-“
“Which ‘original’ incident are you referring to? Because I have a list Ms. President,” I sneered and she lost her smile, her eyes narrowing slightly before she cleared her throat and glanced over at the two other gentlemen.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she offered then, glancing back at me. I scoffed, sitting up as I clenched my hands into fists, keeping them tucked tightly into my armpits as I glared at her.
“Coach allowing homophobic slurs and hate to be spewed to players on the team, after I told him privately about the situation he turned a blind eye to what was happening. In fact he agreed with the abusive behavior and encouraged it!” I began, coach scoffing. I ignored him, continuing. “It wasn’t until a fight broke out between players that any action was even taken. And even then it just stopped the direct discrimination. However the issue hasn’t been fixed. And ever since I kissed my boyfriend I’ve been receiving threatening talks and interactions like this,” I gestured between us, her smile twitching slightly. I noticed a weird purse in her lips before she cleared her throat and looked down to adjust the chair and lean on the desk.
“And the investigation about you taking a signing bonus?” she asked, as if that was even a real claim with foundation.
“False accusations. I bet the investigators can’t even find a foothold in the case. In fact since it was brought up I haven’t heard anything since then. I haven’t been contacted, interrogated, presented any evidence. Nothing. It’s almost like, it’s not even real?” I offered callously, feeling smug as I shrugged and slumped back into the chair. My foot was still shaking but I felt rather calm otherwise.
“Well we have been made aware of the concerns with your coach since the game Friday. So we wanted to meet with you directly and-“
“What a load of fucking bull shit!” I laughed, standing up then as I pressed my hands onto the desk. She leaned back in the chair, her hands slightly gripping the armrests as she stared up at me. Her face was blank, but there looked to be a bit of uneasiness in her eyes. “Coach admitted to being pressured to benching me. I know the school lost funding and sponsors. All it takes is a few statements from me, one or two recordings I have, and a small investigation into the alumni donations to validate my accusations! Why are you even talking to me? Just fire the fucking prick!” I gestured to coach, her face grimacing slightly.
“Is that what your goal is here? Clay this is his career,” she started and I was baffled. My arms fell to my sides, my hands clenched into fists.
“So I deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treated, because you don’t want this man to take accountability for his actions?!” I snapped, and she took a deep breath.
“What I am saying is, I hope your intentions are not personally driven. Think about your team, think about the implications of your actions. That is all I am saying,” she continued. I could tell she was picking her words carefully. No one would have a real conversation with me as long as I was recording. But that was fine by me. It forces their hands. Not mine.
“I’ve thought long and hard Ms. President. That man has broken Title IX legislation. I have factual evidence, witnesses, people willing to make testimonies. If you do not take the action you need to, I will,” I breathed. She pushed up then, her fingers pressed into the desk as her eyes narrowed.
“Is that a threat, Mr. Langton?” she breathed coolly.
“That’s a promise, Ms. Davison,” I snarled, turning and leaving immediately. I grabbed my shit, turning the recording off as I stormed out of the locker room. I was boiling, my mind racing as I tried to understand what just happened. Did I fall into a bait? Was there enough to turn the tables back on me, if I proved too emotionally driven?! Could I jeopardize this?
“Clay! Where the hell have you been?” Tyler’s voice pulled me out of my stupor as I made it down to the track. I took a deep breath and dropped my shit by his as he studied me. “You don’t look too good,” he muttered, his forehead wrinkling.
“Those people you saw with coach?” I breathed and he nodded slowly, looking worried. “The istanbul travestileri university president, probably two board members, and then coach. They just asked to speak with me,” I grumbled, his eyes going wide. I cleared my throat, pulling my phone out. “Let’s walk at least, I want to get some of this edge off,” I insisted, gesturing for him to follow me as we walked.
“Clay this feels like some shit that happens in movies, or TV shows or some shit. This shit doesn’t happen in real life,” he insisted and I scoffed, smirking as I shook my head and pulled the recording up. I turned my volume all the way up, holding it up as we walked. He listened intently, glancing at me occasionally.
“She doesn’t want to handle it,” he concluded and I sighed, nodding slowly.
“That’s how I feel too,” I breathed. “What’s fucking me up over it, is if I do push for him to be fired, are they going to build a defense against me stating I’m emotionally driven?” I offered, Tyler and I slowing to a near stop as we looked at one another.
“Nah I don’t think so. Emotional or not, that’s a normal response. But you’re not wrong. He broke Title IX legislation. That alone-“
“Yeah, right. I shouldn’t let her get in my head,” I nodded then, agreeing with him eagerly. I didn’t want to think too much about it. Especially after Katie called me and already convinced me to go after the coach if the school didn’t. We made it back around to our bags and I set my phone down, adjusting my watch and glancing at it. Tyler let us run in quiet and it felt nice; just getting to shut off for a bit and let my mind focus on my breaths and tempo.
“Last lap,” I breathed and Tyler just grunted, seeming a bit whooped. If Bruno were running with me he’d push harder. Maybe that’s because he wanted to impress me. That thought made me smile, a warm tingle creeping down my back. The more I thought back on our random times together, the more I realized Bruno and I were subconsciously trying to impress one another.
As we rounded the last turn I saw a few more teammates on the track, Bruno catching my eye as he squatted down to rummage through his bag. He grabbed his water bottle, standing up and tilting his head back to guzzle it. Fuck, seeing his lips pressed to the bottle as he sucked, his throat bobbing had my mind running. We ran past the team, slowing down to a walk. Tyler turned with his hands on his head, panting as I shook my shirt to get some cool air on my chest.
“How can you run before practice all the damn time?” he grumbled and I chuckled, taking a deep breath and clearing my throat as I walked toward Bruno.
“Because I’ve been doing it for so fucking long?” I offered and he smirked, shaking his head. Bruno turned, smiling at me. He held his bottle out to me and I grabbed it, chugging some of it before handing it back to him. I slid my arm around his waist, kissing his cheek and he smiled cutely, blushing a bit.
“I wonder how coach is going to be today,” he muttered and I took a deep breath.
“After practice I have something to play for you,” I breathed, his face looking worried. “It’s about coach,” I explained and he pursed his lips, nodding once. I glanced at my watch, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get ready for warm-ups!” I called out, most of the team here. I noticed the rest of them on the stairs coming down from the locker room. I was hoping for a relatively normal practice, regardless of what happened or what might happen.
Our coaches walked down together from the locker room, most of the team set up for warm-ups. Nothing was too weird, but the vibe was definitely off. Coach kept glancing at me, his body language and face hard to read. I did my best to ignore the unwanted attention as I continued through practice as normal as possible. As practice ended though that wish seemed futile when all of the coaches asked to speak with me, alone.
Bruno and I exchanged a glance before we turned to our bags. He pulled the strap onto his shoulder, standing with his arms crossed watching our coaches as I grabbed my phone. “You better record this one too,” he grumbled and I sighed, standing up as I pulled my bags up off the ground.
“Are you waiting for me?” I asked quietly and he smirked, glancing at me with a nod. I smiled, grabbing the back of his head and giving him a quick kiss. He sighed with a cute laugh, pushing me away as I chuckled and pulled the app up as I walked over to our coaches.
“Are you seriously still recording everything?” coach demanded and I glanced at him as I hit the record button, holding the phone as I crossed my arms.
“I told you I would,” I shrugged. They all looked worried and upset. “What do you want to talk to me about?” I demanded and coach sighed, taking a deep breath. He looked miserable.
“Kid you’re going to get me fired if you keep this up,” he breathed, sounding desperate then. I felt a tug on my heart and hesitated. The look on his face was devastatingly sad. “You don’t understand what this job means to me do travesti istanbul you?” he continued and I scoffed, shaking my head.
“Probably as much as it means to me to be treated like any other guy on this fucking team,” I snapped and he flinched, scowling as he put his hands on his hips and glared at the field between us. “Why is everyone still acting like any of this is my damn fault too?” I pressed, his eyes meeting mine with a deep frown wrinkling his face.
“How is it not partially you-“
“Don’t you fucking dare blame me. I told you since day one that Bruno and I were trying to date. You knew before anyone else did. I confided in you as my coach!” I barked, the other coaches gasping. Clearly they didn’t know. “You were the first fucking person I ever told coach,” I felt my voice crack as a pain crushed me. “Fuck,” I grabbed my shirt, wiping my eye as I sniffled and composed myself.
“Clay look,” he started and I shook my head.
“No, fuck this bull shit. Everything Bruno dealt with, everything I’m dealing with, none of it is our fault. We just like each other. If that upsets everyone else then that’s their fucking problem!” I snapped, panting as I tried to stop crying. I was angry and hurt all at once. “If the school loses funding because of homophobic pricks, that’s their fucking problem! If Zack wants to quit the team because he hates gays, that’s his fucking prerogative!” I yelled.
“Alright we get it you can-“
“No you don’t fucking get it!” I barked, my voice cracking with how angry I was. “No one fucking gets it! You all say you do but you don’t! I have lost most of my family over this, I have lost friends, I have lost my coach,” I croaked, sniffling as I covered my face with my hand. This was so embarrassing. “For something I have no control over, for something that is just who I am!” I whimpered, crying as everything crashed down onto me in that moment. “Threats against my position on the team, threats to my potential pro-career, threats from my family, the hateful stares, the quiet judgmental mutters, every damn fucking day,” I rubbed my eyes angrily, choking back the tears. They were all painfully quiet. “And for what?” I barked, glaring at them all as they flinched.
“I-” coach looked at me, seeming just as lost and broken as I felt in that moment.
“You know you felt like a father to me?” I asked him then, a weight on my chest making me feel like I was going to vomit. “Fuck, you all don’t know anything about me but when I came to this school and you were my coach. I was like, man, is this what it’s like to have a supportive and helpful kind of father figure?” I snorted, shaking my head then.
“I failed you,” he breathed then and I snorted, hugging myself as I glared at the field. I couldn’t look any of them in their eyes.
“A lot of people did coach. I’m just tired of sitting on the bench and watching, not doing a damn fucking thing about it,” I felt a sense of determination was over me as I sniffled.
“Can I, can I have a chance to make it up to you?” he asked softly and I felt a bit disgusted, maybe disappointed? It was hard to place this feeling.
“After everything you said to me?” I scoffed and he flinched, rubbing the back of his neck as he pursed his lips and studied the field between us.
“We’re not saying what happened was ok Clay, but his job was threatened. The team was threatened. He was trying to do what might have been best for everyone,” another coach chimed in quietly and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“What do you mean the team was threatened?” I demanded.
“When the private donor threatened to pull funding, there was talk of cutting the soccer team instead of taking the funding loss. These athletic programs aren’t cheap,” Coach Hamilton explained and I felt like I was spinning, my heart aching.
“We all would have lost our jobs, everyone would have lost their scholarships, their spots on the team,” another coach added softly and I felt like someone knocked me off center.
“That’s fucking absurd,” I grumbled and coach sighed, nodding.
“My immediate reaction was to just take you off the field until everything blew over and the funding was secured again for next year,” he admitted softly. “It was going to be on a game by game basis,” he took a deep, shaky breath.
“Why didn’t you just fucking tell me?” I demanded and he snorted, shaking his head as his eyes met mine.
“Because it’s my fucking job to figure shit like this out. You’re just a damn kid. I don’t care that you’re gay Clay. I never did, but a lot of people do. A lot of powerful people at this school do. I was trying to handle it all myself,” he took a deep breath and shook his head. “And ultimately I took it out on you because it was all because of you. But I, fuck, I went about it wrong and lost my damn mind,” he cleared his throat, composing himself as we stared at one another.
“So what, you cracked under the pressure?” I demanded weakly and he took a deep breath, slumping in defeat as he nodded and hung his head.
“I’m sorry. But the school received more funding from other donors around the same time. A lot of public organizations that love the school for allowing a public displays of gayness,” he snorted, actually laughing then as he took a deep breath.