The Star Player Part 03

“How much did I drink last night…” Tyler groaned as he rubbed his head. It was pounding like no other. After Sierra had left he remembered pulling out some beers and playing some video games. At some point he must have passed out because he was still stretched along the couch. His long body covered its length while his feet dangled over the side. He sat up and saw the beers on the table but only two of them were open. And only one was completely empty.

“The fuck?” he groaned rubbing his head again. There were times where he’d finished off 32 packs and still felt fine the next day. “Whatever, probably just tired from practice.” Tyler stood up and reached his arms to the sky, stretching his muscles and joints. The ten foot ceiling was just barely out of reach. He stretched harder. Normally his fingertips would brush up against it but still nothing. 

It was a good few seconds before he scolded himself for doing a ritual he’d never really thought about before. After all, practice was going to be starting soon and he still needed to get ready. He went to his dresser and pulled out a jersey shorts and looked for a jock. Inside the drawer was one of Meghan’s underwear stuffed to the bottom. “Silly girl,” he smirked. “Shoulda just gave her a call. She woulda been down for a good fuck.”

But that wasn’t what he was looking for. Instead on his floor he could see one of his jocks from earlier in the week. Only with a few sweat stains but nothing anyone would see. “Clean?” he sniffed the pocket of the jock a bit longer than normal. Then he gave it another whiff. “Damn…” he moaned. “Smells good.” Another heavy sniff into the jock strap and his hand was brushing up to his hardening dick. It ducked under his shorts and with one sensual tug, he pulled the jock away.

“What the!” he threw the piece of fabric away from his face, blaming the fabric instead of his own desire. “What’s wrong with me? I feel so fucked up…” His mind went to the shower. “That’ll wake me up. I’ll feel better after that…” The hot water running down his tense body did get his tight muscles to relax. It was a moment where he could be alone with his thoughts but also away from the world. At some level he was completely vulnerable and didn’t have to force his machismo onto anyone else, even though he always sort of liked to do it anyway. Right now he could just be at peace.

He toweled himself off and then looked over his body in the mirror. Something about it felt off. He raised his arm to flex. The tone in it wasn’t as strong. Every day he loved to brag about how deep of a curve he had in his bicep and how big he was despite his height. But right now it didn’t seem as big. “The Hell?” he questioned. The next step was weighing himself. “There’s no way…” he muttered as he looked down at the red block numbers. 232. At 6’7” being over 200 pounds was normal. It was pretty healthy for an athlete but Tyler had been 243. Somehow over the last 24 hours he’d lost 11 pounds.

“There’s no way,” panic started to fill his lungs as tried to rationalize what was going on. It didn’t make sense. He got on the scale again and it still read 232. “Fuck no. There’s no fucking way.” His voice raised each time he repeated the phrase. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t rational to lose that much weight in such a short period of time. 

In the other room his phone was buzzing. ‘Practice!’ he raced over to it. “Dude! Where the fuck are you. Coach is getting pissed!” Dwayne whispered loudly into the speaker.

“Tell him I’m on my way. I got caught in traffic,” Tyler lied.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Whatever you’re doing you better drop it cause he sounds more pissed than usual.” He paused, waiting for an explanation. "What'd you do?"

“Nothing!” Tyler hissed back.

“Whatever man. It’s your funeral if you don’t show up.”

“Like Hell he’d do anything,” Tyler shot back but Dwayne had already hung up the phone. “Shit.” He grabbed a jock on the floor and didn’t want to give it the smell test. Tossing on some more clothes he headed for the college gym. It wasn’t much of a drive but he was already a good 20 minutes late. 

“Nice of you to show up!” Coach Johnson called from across the gym. “I expect you to catch up with everyone else.” The other basketball players were already running laps and looked like they’d been doing it for a while. Sweat dripped down their backs and glistened off their lithe tight muscles. Tyler dropped his bag and started to run with the rest of them.

“Dude! What the fuck?” Dwayne asked Tyler.

“Fuck off man. I already know I’m late. How far behind am I?”

“Well I hope whoever it was was worth it cause you got a good 30 laps to catch up on. And coach seems to have a bigger stick up his ass than usual.”

“Ehh, fuck coach. I can do thirty laps like it’s nothing.”

“I hope so cause he’s talking about messing with the lineup.”

“So?”

“So?!”

“What? You think he’s gonna give his star player any less play time?”

“If you ladies have time to talk obviously I’m not running you hard enough!” Coach Johnson barked. “You’d best pick up the fucking pace before I double it!”

Dwayne closed his mouth and shook his head. Tyler ignored the anger and did as Coach said. He was far faster than the other players on the team. And with his tall body he could easily make up the distance. Even within a few minutes he’d passed several of the other players multiple times. However he could feel it. Normally this would have been an easy feat for him. Running was his passion. But right now he almost felt tired. He brushed off the pain but could still feel it. Seeing Coach Johnson’s proud smirk was enough to make him want to power through. 

It was like he was saying, ‘I know you can’t do it.’ Tyler wasn’t one to give him what he wanted though. He eventually started to catch up but still the 30 laps he had to make up had him running a few extra minutes while Coach talked to them about the rest of practice. The rest started running through a few of the drills and then Tyler jumped right into it. No rest for him as he moved directly to the next activity. 

Never in his life had he ever felt like he needed to really rest. He was able to measure his energy output perfectly and direct what he needed to stay around the same level as the other players. Right now? He felt like he was dying. Again not wanting to give Coach the satisfaction of his pain, he powered through it. But it was hard. His face had flushed red while his body was sweating more than usual. Not to mention how his clothes didn’t feel like they fit him right. 

All the way down to his special made size 17 shoes, they just felt like they didn’t feel right. Still he powered through to the next resting time. He nearly fell over as he heard Coach blow his whistle. “Alright boys! Excellent hustle. Move onto practice shots!” Tyler shook his head and tried to jog behind the rest. “Carter! Not you!” Coach Johnson barked at him. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” even though he was on the verge of passing out, Tyler had a bit of an attitude.

“Get some fucking water. I don’t need you dying on me today. First you’re late. Then you hold back Dwayne. Now you look like you’re about to fall over and die on me.”

Tyler took his drink of water and did his best to bite his tongue. Somehow that talk yesterday seemed to have given Coach the idea that he’d some kind of power in this relationship. “It’s just been a bad morning.”

“Bad morning… Yeah? Well it’s about to get a lot worse. I’m thinking about trading your spot with Hunter.”

“What!” Tyler dropped his bottle to the gym floor. “The fuck you thinking old man?”

“I’m thinking about what’s best for the team,” Coach raised an eye brow.

“Really? You think that f-f—“ Tyler cut himself off as he saw that evil golden glint in Coach’s eye again. The fear doubled through him and he couldn’t move. His mind solely focused on it alone. “You think that he’s better than me?”

“Better? Maybe not yet but given time I know he will be.”

The phrase was caught in Tyler’s mind. He finally put together the few pieces he had. “Are you the one doing this?” he was a good 6 inches taller than Coach Johnson but with the coach’s thick sturdy frame, his threatening posture wasn’t all that intimidating.

“Doing what?” 

“I think you know?”

“Then you’ll have to let me know.” The smug but confident look on Coach Johnson’s face sent Tyler into a rage. He grabbed the other man by the collar and got into his face. But before he did anything, Coach cocked his head to the side. “You don’t have as much power as you think. Do anything crazy and I’ve got an entire team to back me up. But maybe you should pay a bit more attention to them too.” 

Tyler turned his attention to them as they cheered on Hunter who seemed to be unable to miss a shot. Each player kept counting up his continuous streak urging him to take even more wild shots. And then he’d make them. Tyler stared, knowing full well that’s what they always did for him. Maybe not in as excited of a manner but hearing them count up each shot he made was his thing.

“Anyways, I think I’ve held you up from enough practice today,” Coach Johnson gave Tyler a pat to the shoulder. “Back to the old grind.”

“Right…” Tyler muttered as he jogged towards the other players.

“Tyler…” Coach had a taunting voice as he said it. “You were late to practice. You don’t get to shoot hoops. Instead you’ll be running until I say stop.”

It took a great deal of effort for him to hold back his anger. He bit his lips hard trying not to speak back. “Right,” he added dutifully and started running around the gym again. His pace had slowed down significantly but he could still feel the light burn in his side from earlier. He’d pushed himself too hard and was going to be paying for that now. Each lap was another test to his stamina. But he felt like he was losing. 

Then his foot fell out of his shoe. He stopped in his tracks seeing the lone shoe two paces behind him. They were custom made. Fit tightly but comfortably. Perfect for his feet. And he slipped out of it.

“Something wrong Carter!” Coach Johnson barked.

Tyler stared straight ahead feeling the eyes of the other players on him. His heart pounded. “No coach! Shoe just came untied!” he called back. He took the few paces back to the shoe and slipped his foot back in. ‘Shit.’ There was a good long stare before he retied the laces, tightening them as much as he could.