Centers on two seniors in a LGBT private school.
Around me the school gym gleamed as though every inch of it had been glossed recently. Though the smaller of the school's two indoor gymnasiums, it was still more impressive than anything I encountered before transferring. The slats in the basketball court were clean and polished, illuminated by dozens of the bright lights which hung from a violently red ceiling. The rows of bleachers on other side were spaced in three segments, each separated by stairs. Black made up the background of the seats, but each section was also stamped with a giant red - the same red as the ceiling - letter. Had they been empty of smirking boys, the stands would have read S-S-A.
St. Sebastian Academy. As it was an upper school, however, and this this 2015, most people just called it Seb High.
There was red, white, and black everywhere in the gym. On the walls, seats, goals, court, and ceiling, along with decals of Greg - the school's mean looking bear of a mascot - painted in the middle of the court. All these details culminated into two facts for me, my school was new and well-funded. In my experience, schools never had enough teachers, money, space, healthy food, diverse courses and extracurricular and a corrupt school board. Need I continue? I was excited to start training and wrestling in such a place. I mean, it's a high school with an actual endowment, how cool is that?
A lot of luster faded from the penny when I found out I was expected to wrestle the team captain on my very first day.
There was a lot of confidence and surprising lack of swagger in Blu as he strode up to the mat. Even from such a brief introduction, I could see as much. He was the team captain of course, and if I - the new kid - wished to join his team this apparent ritual needed to be conducted. It was to be brief introductory duel, so the coach and captain alike could assess you strengths and weakness. But my nervousness made it feel more like and entry exam, or a hazing.
"...so he can test whatcha got." Coach Fell's words punctuated my thoughts. The rest of the team peppered the bleachers, all of them grinning at the newcomer's - my - expense. Evidently the captain welcomed new players to the team in such an embarrassing fashion often, which caused even more hesitation. I was about two inches taller than Blu and in a heavier weight class, an advantage that should give me some degree of comfort and it had...for all of five seconds. The boy stepping up to me now, I since learned, was a senior who won three state wrestling championships for himself and the team, and was gunning for his fourth. University coaches from across the country were vying for him after graduation, and I even heard murmurs of Olympic potential from some of the other boys.
Of course, they could simple be toying with me, trying to psych me out, but the state trophies and plaques shone in the display case just off the entrance to the gym. The name Bluford Wilder stamp upon a large portion of them. And, more importantly, those rumors were easy to believe because the man was impressive to behold. The crimson singlet he wore stretched over a tight physique in a way to revealed all the valleys of his muscle tone. He was built for power, and it was easy to see the discipline in his demeanor and physicality. Yet for such a sports 'star' there was no ego that I could find, only an intense focus that visibly intimidated me. Blu's eyes, a warm brown that might have softened any other person, skewered me. They communicated that, even though it was just a friendly scrimmage, there would be no mercy for the new kid.
I gulped, put in my mouth guard, and stepped inside the boundary line.
Trying not to pity himself too much, I hunkered down just as Coach's whistle blew. For a strategy, I decided to play it safe for the first round and let my opponent come to me while I tested the waters. Blu, evidently, had other plans and decided to throw me into the deep end headfirst. He came at me like, well like Greg the Grizzly. The other boys were already hooting and screaming, and my face was already on the mat.
In seconds, Blu swung around, jammed his shoulder into the back of my right knee, scooped the remaining leg from underneath me, and swept me out of the boundary line like yesterday's trash. It all happened so quickly I barely even registered the beep of Coach's whistle. The gym filled with laughter and catcalling, all of which I took in stride. By the time we reset and the whistle blew again, I was more focused and determined not to make an ass of myself. I was ready for any gimmicks this time, but it appeared Blu expected me to be, and he didn't try for a second time. Instead, he towed the boundary, circling his prey and assessed. I did the same, and remained watchful.
Again, with startling speed, Blu attacked first, this time from the front. We met head on in a tie, with Blu trying to meet me - the larger - me pound for pound. Perhaps he was trying to see just how strong he was in comparison to a heavier opponent, because I was the biggest currently in the gym - including the coach. This, he quickly released was a mistake, since he seemed to underestimate how quick I really was. Too quick, in fact, for such a direct approach to work. Instead of taking me down, Blu found himself pressed against the mat by my bulk. He hadn't acted rapidly enough to tie my hands and wrists and now he was in trouble as a result.
Trying to capitalize on my newfound advantage, I quickly stepped in and pivoted so our heads pointed in the same direction. I went in for the takedown but Blu would not stop moving. My chest on Blu's back, I found that trying to pin this opponent down was akin to hugging a ball of wriggling and angry snakes. If I could just lock down Blu's legs it would be all over...and I nearly did it too. But before I could complete the move, Blu - red faced from his ardent struggle - squirmed from underneath me and popped back onto his feet, ready to try a new approach.
I, more slowly as the scrap had winded me, also got to my feet and was surprised to see Blu slide between my legs in a move straight out of an 80s action movie sequence. He was again using his smaller size and speed to his advantage which, I'm a little embarrassed to admit, spelled the end for me. Before I could so much a turn around, my knees were once again swept from under me and Blu was on top. We were now in the reverse position than before, with his hard body on mine. I sensed a flickered of hesitation as something changed in him, however, but failed to capitalize because - I think- I felt the same flash of emotion. His body was like stone warmed by the sun, and as he controlled my wrists I distinctly felt his crotch in the cleft of my ass.
He felt it too.
It was over for me though and Coach blew the whistle again. There was clapping and cheering and the boy filled out of the stands and joined us on the court. For a moment I thought Blu wouldn't get up. He lay on top of me, his breath brushing against my nape. It smelled like cinnamon toothpaste. I knew he was aroused, I felt it press against me, and I knew he knew I reciprocated the sentiment. Inevitably, however, he rolled and jump to his feet. Spry as ever.
"You got quick feet." The team captain said. He made a point to help me up, shake my hand, and clap me on the back with encouragement. I expected him to have some testosterone fueled grumble of a voice, but it was actually a pleasant tenor. "If he lets me work with him, Coach, I think we can sharpen that...add some agility to all this bulk. You've got some scary power, dude, I just knew I was done for in that second bout." The hand on my back gripped the meat of my shoulder and massaged gently, just as something appreciative flashed in Blu eyes...something that made I blush. There I was, a loser (and not just a loser, but a loser who lost in mere seconds), and I was basking in praise like I won. So he was both encouraging and relentless, it was easy to see why he was team captain.
