This is a short story which continues the plot of Getting back at the Quarterback. It didn't feel big enough to call chapter 2 and isn't strictly necessary for the overall enjoyment of the larger story but it was still fun to write and seemed worthwhile to put out so I've decided to call it chapter 1.5 and publish it while I finish up the real chapter 2. I hope you enjoy and if you do please rate this 5 stars, comment, favorite this story, and follow me on here as I really would appreciate it. Thank you and enjoy.
All characters are over the age of 18.
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Justin's heart was pounding as he slammed the door closed, throwing the bolt behind him before proceeding to have a full blown panic attack. He slid to the floor, his whole body shaking, his breath coming in ragged trembling wheezes.
What the hell had he just done? He'd spit on, degraded, and face fucked his bully before stealing his letter jacket and taking it home with him. It was easy enough to be brave in the moment but dealing with the aftermath was another story.
How was Clark going to respond? Justin doubted that he'd be greeted with a kiss and a hello honey tomorrow at school. After all it wasn't like Clark was going to admit what had just happened to his football bros and tell them Justin was his boyfriend now.
He couldn't.
Hell if anything he was obligated to make Justin's life even worse, just to prove he was still the big man and the king of the school.
It took Justin a while to calm down and breath normally again. When the shaking and waves of fear and panic had subsided he slowly got up from where he'd collapsed by the door.
He was home.
He was safe.
He lived with his parents but in a bid for independence he'd moved into the basement which he'd set up as his own little studio apartment. It was split into two rooms, the main room that had his bed, desk, sofa, a small kitchenette, and all the other comforts of home and the laundry room where he was now. Justin had put a small table along one wall and had a place to hang up his coats but other than that hadn't done too much in here. There was a utility sink in one corner by the furnace and a full bath in the other. The room had two doors, one leading into his bedroom and the other one, the one behind him, which lead outback to yard and beyond that the woods.
Justin pulled off hid backpack and tossed it onto the table, scattering some of the loose papers that had been piled there and headed for the bathroom. He flicked on the light and jumped when he saw his reflection in the mirror, forgetting that he still had on Clark's letter jacket. He ripped the jacket off and threw it as far away from him as he could in the little room.
What had he done?
Justin felt the cold grip of another panic attack try to take hold of him. He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to drive the emotions away.
What was done was done.
Justin peeled off his shirt and reached into the shower, turning the facet on as hot as it would go, letting it heat up the cold room and fog up the mirror. Slowly Justin unbuckled his belt and pulled it off before reaching down and undoing the button of his pants. He hadn't noticed it before but his fly was still damp with Clark's saliva.
He quickly zipped open his fly and pulled his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, only just now realizing that he hadn't completely gotten out of the way in time and that there was a small damp spot of semen on the seat of the pants.
