PWP Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Steve repeated the same chant over and over in his head as he stalled, waiting for the rest of his teammates to finish up their showers and head home.
These men comprised the entire list of active roster players in the NFL to come out as gay. And none of them came out until after they retired.
Michael Sam, Steve’s brain unhelpfully supplied at the thought.
Yes, Michael Sam had come out just prior to the 2014 draft. He lasted exactly one season with the Rams and of course he never even got to play in a regular season game. The Cowboys picked him up next, but he never made it off their practice squad.
“Keep your head down,” Steve’s agent had advised him. “The draft is just a few months away. Don’t get hurt. Stay off social media. Don’t cause any drama.”
Steve’s agent didn’t know about Steve’s little secret, but Steve was sure the getting caught fucking his teammate would fall into the category of “drama.”
Barton, his quarterback, punched Steve in the shoulder as he left. Steve looked up from his very important job of getting the grass stains out of his cleats long enough to wave. Only a few stragglers remained and Tony was nowhere in sight.
Showering with the rest of his teammates wasn’t an issue. There was certainly nothing sexy about a group of smelly men making crude jokes as they tried to scrub off the grime of sweat, blood, and soil. Unfortunately, his body made an exception for the handsome runningback with the floppy brown hair, little body, and giant doe eyes who had quickly become his best friend after he transferred from his small community college to play cornerback on scholarship for a division III NCAA school.
Steve’s stomach dropped as he gathered up his shower items. He hadn’t spent any alone time with Tony in weeks. Not since they shared a single kiss in the pitch blackness of their bus sometime around 2am as the team travelled home from an away game. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. Steve missed his best friend like a limb, but that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t be gay and play in the NFL.
Steve opened the door to the showers and was immediately greeted by the sound of running water. Looking up, his heart sank. There was Tony, beautiful as ever even in the fluorescent lights of the locker room, with suds in his hair and stark naked. Tony must have had the same idea as Steve.
Tony turned around at the sound of the door snapping shut. His face lit up at the sight of Steve, but immediately became guarded as if he had to remind himself that thing had changed between them.
“I’m almost done,” Tony announced, rinsing his hair out. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave.”
Steve couldn’t find the words to reply, but his feet seemed to be moving of their own accord. Before he knew it, he was standing under the anemic spray of the same showerhead that Tony currently occupied, towel still secured around his waist and becoming more waterlogged with each passing second.
They locked eyes, both questioning. Wanting, but uncertain. Then, finally, it was like the breaking of a dam. It was wet grips on pink skin and teeth on lips as the boys clung to each other, unable to get enough to slow down their hunger for each other. Steve pushed and Tony allowed himself to be backed against the wall. The runningback bit and sucked on Steve’s tongue, drawing out a low moan the echoed in the otherwise empty bathroom.
Steve was snapped out of his daze by a set of fingers wiggling their way between his hip and his soaked towel. Regretfully pulling away from Tony’s perfect mouth, Steve drew in a couple deep breaths. Tony’s dick stood erect and weeping in front of him, just on the other side of the towel from his own eager erection. Looking up, he met Tony’s gaze and nodded.
Tony smiled as he pulled and the two men watched Steve’s towel hit the floor with a sodden ‘thwop.’ They both remained frozen momentarily and Steve supposed that Tony was just as uncertain on what to do next as he was. Steve felt the panic well up within him. He should leave. He shouldn’t be doing this. He couldn’t be gay.
Steve closed the space between them and once again their lips clashed together. This time Tony groaned as their erections slid together and Steve had to throw his head back to gasp for air at the sensation. The electricity of the slick glide was overwhelming. He bucked against Tony and the feeling was even better. They clung to one another as Steve’s Irish skin started turning from pink to red under the heat of the water and Tony’s attentions. Steve managed to wrap one of his massive hands around both of them and it wasn’t long after that that they were both spilling into the space between their bellies, the shower quickly washing away the evidence of what they had done.
Still, they clung to each other, breathing ragged and legs shaking. Steve squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to save the moment in his memory. Maybe, for just a few minutes, he could pretend that this wasn’t both the beginning and the end.
The red, white, and blue confetti rained down on the team as they ran to jump on Steve. They had done it. They had officially won Super Bowl LVII after Steve had intercepted what would have been a game winning touchdown and preserved his team’s 6 point lead for the win. A reporter pushed her way through the sweaty men to shove her microphone in Steve’s face. He could barely hear her over the din, so he leaned forward to catch the last few words: “How are you feeling right now after your game-saving interception?”
“Great!” Steve yelled, probably too loudly. “I need to thank my teammates for putting me in the position to make the play, my coaching staff for putting up with me changing the play, God for the talents He’s blessed me with, and, of course, my amazing husband for his unwaivering love and support!” The reporter was trying to ask him another question, but Steve had already spotted him as he fought against the crowd. Steve took off, pushing bystanders out of the way, to meet Tony halfway for a kiss.
