The Wrong Type of Affair

5 Sleepless

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

5: Sleepless

Mitchell laid his head down at the lunch table the next afternoon, pushing his food over to Dorian.

“Ooooo! Free vittles!” Dorian used his arm to hook around the haul and rake the two bags of chips and three sandwiches before he paused looking over the food. “You’re not eating? Why aren’t you eating? You always eat! Are you sick? Did that bastard give you some incurable itch?”

Mitchell chuckled. “Just tired.” He still had problems sleeping even though he was exhausted…was that possible?

“But you never miss a meal. You love food as much as I do… Even tired. Should I drag your ass to the school nurse and get you an IV drip ready?”

“Nah, just need to sleep.”

“Just sleep? No food? Not that I’m complaining about eating your food, but dude if you pass out during practice this evening, coach and captain will be pissed. I’ll leave you a sandwich.” Dorian pushed a turkey club back to him.

Mitchell ignored it. Instead, he began to close his eyes.

“Yo, Mitch! Ready for tonight?”

Some of the team came to crash at the table. He groaned. He almost forgot about the exhibition practice match they scheduled with another school.

“Shhh guys, the baby’s napping,” Dorian said with a mouth full of food and shoving more in.

“Dorian, chew and swallow. Chew and swallow. That shit’s nasty.” Someone laughed.

“If you choke, you die, cause I ain’t wasting my breath giving you mouth to mouth,” another said.

“Bitches…” Dorian said then swallowed. “Glad I can depend on my bro.”

Mitchell sighed sitting up. No sleep for the weary today. He unwrapped his sandwich and began eating.

“Mitch, you look off! You okay man?” The guy sitting beside him asked. He patted Mitchell on the back.

“Incurable itch.” Dorian announced and the whole table went silent. Some of the team scooted away.

Mitchell glanced up from his sandwich in mid-bite. “Really, Bats?”

“At least they’re quiet now.” Dorian grinned and went back to scarfing down everything in front of him.

“You’re fuckin’ with us, Dorian!” Someone threw a cup of pudding, but Dorian caught it.

“Damn, this is my lucky day!” Dorian pulled out his spoon. “Extra food, plus dessert.”

Mitchell got up and left the guys to fight. He decided to make his way to his next class early before the bell rang. Hopefully, that would give him twenty minutes to doze.

He lay his head on his desk inside the Biology classroom and closed his eyes. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but something woke him. It wasn’t the bell because he didn’t hear the telltale signs of students hustling in the hallway. He lifted his head to find Dorian in the desk in front of him, his usual seat.

Dorian’s back faced him and he was tossing a small football in the air and catching it.

“Bats?”

“Did I wake you?” Dorian asked not turning around.

“How long before class starts?”

“Bell should ring in about five minutes, maybe less.”

He’d been sleep for fifteen minutes.

“If you can’t handle the strain of your…situation, maybe you should pull the plug,” Dorian said concerned.

“I know…”

“But?”

“I want the sex.”

“Sex equals awesome.” Dorian chuckled tossing the ball up. “But it also equals STD’s, babies, and heartache. You’re both guys so I don’t have to worry about babies…though I wouldn’t mind being an uncle…or godfather. Oh, make me godfather! I could be so gangster!”

Mitchell chuckled.

He tossed the ball up and then caught it. “But I’m guessing you’re not pregnant, since you aren’t screaming for pickles and ice cream. And I’m hoping I’m wrong about the incurable itch. Are you using protection?”

Mitchell nodded then said, “Yes,” realizing Dorian couldn’t see him with his back turned.

“Good! What about heartache? Are we leaning toward that nasty ass word?”

“It’s only been two days. I’m not attached to the guy. I can leave.”

“But you won’t.”

“I need to forget.” Forget the championship…forget Bailey and anything remotely leading to a relationship. He needed to focus on football. He wanted to carry his team to the nationals next year. He knew if he didn’t rid his mind of Bailey, if he didn’t find something to wipe away his worries-

“Are you sure this is the way to do it? I know I’m the last bastard to tell you what to do since I got you into the mess but-“

“My decision in the end, Bats.”

He finally turned around with an oddly solemn expression before he grinned fluttering his long lashes playfully. “I can’t help but worry. You know mama wants to keep her baby safe,” he said in a horrible southern accent.

“Bats…”

“Yeah, I’m still working on it.”

“Or don’t?”

“Not an option,” Dorian said turning around when the bell rang.

Mitchell barely got through school that day he was so tired. Luckily, he got to sleep on the bus to their off season scrimmage game. He slept so good, he was rejuvenated for the ass kicking they gave their opponent.

“Shit! I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” Dorian laughed plopping down on the bench beside Mitchell inside the visiting team’s locker room. “You caught everything I passed and then some. I’m swooning.”

“Swoon away.”

They both chuckled like idiots.

“Mitch.”

Mitchell looked up to see George walking up to him.

“You did good tonight.” That approving smile gripped his insides and Mitchell dropped his head in embarrassment.

“Thank you, captain.”

“He did better than good,” Dorian said slapping him on the back. “He did awesometastic!”

“Is that even a word?” George asked arching an eyebrow.

“Course it is!” Dorian stood removing his shoulder pads. “And if you look it up in the Batshit Dictionary of Crazy you’ll find my bro’s picture right under the word awesometastic.”

George’s mouth hung open with utter confusion frowning his expression.

“You love me.” Dorian left them to go get a shower. “Cap! Wash my back!”

“Fuck that,” George said before he took a seat beside Mitchell.

“You and Dorian make an awesome team on the field. When you two get in-sync it’s fun to watch. While Dorian seems damn unpredictable, and usually pisses off the other team and our own, you always seem to know where he’ll throw. Is it instinct or-“

“He’s my best friend.” Mitchell finally looked George in his pale blue eyes. “If I can’t read him, I’d be a shitty friend. Plus, the trick to figuring Dorian out is to be boundless and expect shit to fly anywhere.”

George hollered a booming laugh. After settling down, wiping his eyes, he said, “That works for you. But you aren’t the only one on the team. I need to figure out how to tame that raw potential I know he’s got. He needs the team and the team needs him.”

Mitchell nodded thinking about what motivates Dorian and said, “He likes food. Sex. Video games. Sex. Movies. Sex. Television. Oh, and sex.”

“So buy him an endless supply of sex…”

“Pretty much.”

“Will that take him to the next level?”

Mitchell frowned looking back to the shower, to make sure Dorian wasn’t coming back, then he whispered to George in a voice no one else could hear, “He hates being benched once he’s been in the game. And he hates being made to play the line, cause he can’t touch the ball. To him those things are like being scolded even if it’s for his own good. You threaten him with that shit, he’ll do what’s necessary.”

George nodded.

“And captain if you ever tell him I said that, I’ll quit.”

George’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Shit.”

“Shit indeed.”

“For the love of all that’s holy, Dorian! Put some clothes on and stop dancing and waving your dick around!” he heard someone yell.

“Hell, ya’ll should be grateful I ain’t chargin’ for this awesome show!” Dorian shouted back sounding like some cheesy cowboy.

George groaned. “Batshit crazy?”

Mitchell laughed. “Did you ever doubt it?”

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

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