Summary: After the Hartfield football team loses, MC (Jill Taylor) finds a way to cheer up Chris.
Jill bounced up and down on her toes outside the locker room in the cool night air. She wished she’d worn pants instead of a skirt, but her legs were the least of her worries at the moment. Hartfield’s football team had lost–badly. Even from up in the stands, Jill could see how hard Chris had been taking the game while it was going on and she could only imagine how he felt now that it was over. She’d been waiting outside for a while and had seen most of the team file out, but there was still no sign of Chris.
“Hey, Jill.”
She looked over at the sound of her name to see Zig walking towards her.
“Oh, hey, Zig,” she said. “Sorry about the game.”
He shrugged, but she could see the heaviness in his gesture.
“Waiting for Chris?” he asked. She nodded. “He’s still inside. I think he’s the last one in there.”
“Okay, thanks,” Jill said, glancing towards the locker room door.
“Want me to wait with you?” Zig offered. She shook her head.
“No, that’s okay.”
“You might have to go in after him,” Zig said with a slight smirk. “I don’t think he’s coming out without some persuading.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” Jill said. “See you later?”
Zig waved and headed away across the darkening campus. Jill looked back at the locker room door. A cool breeze swept by her legs, fluttering her skirt, and she made her decision.
“Chris?” she called as she cautiously opened the locker room door. No answer. She glanced around and saw no one, so she headed inside. “Chris?”
Jill walked by a couple rows of lockers, seeing nothing but empty benches, until she rounded the last corner and found Chris, sitting dejectedly on the bench by an open locker, his head hanging low. He’d already changed back into his regular clothes, his hair still damp from his shower.
“Hey,” she said softly. He looked up at her, surprised.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked.
“I was waiting for you outside and Zig said you were still in here,” she said as she walked towards him and sat beside him on the bench.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking back towards the floor. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me, I thought you’d gone home already.”
Jill shifted on the bench until she had one leg on either side, wrapping an arm around Chris’s back before she rested her chin on his shoulder.
“You can’t beat yourself up,” she said quietly. “They were a tough team. These things happen.”
Chris sighed.
“I know. But as the team captain, I just feel so responsible, like I let everyone down,” he said.
“You could never let me down,” Jill said. “ I mean it.”
Chris turned his head to look at her, the smallest smile starting to form on his lips.
“Thanks,” he said. “I needed that.”
Jill touched her fingertips to his chin and tilted his face towards her. She kissed him softly, their lips barely grazing one another. Jill let her lips drift away from his, tracing the curve of his jaw until she reached his ear, his neck. She heard his breath catch a little as her mouth brushed the spot he liked.
“Excuse me, Miss Taylor,” he said, his good humor returning to his voice. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Cheering you up,” she murmured as she let her fingertips fall from his chin, tracing down over his chest and his stomach. He took her face in his hands and kissed her more firmly, his tongue caressing hers in a way that felt both comfortable and exciting. As they kissed, Jill felt his hand on her bare thigh, inching higher until it was just brushing the hem. She pushed herself closer to him and Chris slid his hand under her skirt, circling around to grip her behind as he dug his fingers into her hips.
“What do you say we go home?” he said, his breath hot on her ear.
“Soon,” Jill whispered. She slid her hand down over the front of his jeans and felt him straining against the restrictive fabric. With deft fingers, she unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, slipping her hand inside. Chris groaned slightly at her touch, his length hard in her hand. Jill pulled him free and began to move her hand in a steady rhythm, up and down. He bucked slightly into her hand. Jill slid off the bench and knelt down in front of him, the tile floor cold against her knees. She settled down between his legs and traced her tongue up and down, circling the tip. Chris pushed the hair back from her face and moaned when she took him in her mouth, warm and wet. He watched the rise and fall of her head, dropping his own head back and closing his eyes as she slowly gathered speed.
Jill felt him begin to squirm underneath, unable to keep still as his fingers knotted in her hair. She flicked her eyes up and met his gaze as he watched her, his eyes naked in their primal desire. Jill kept going, faster now, and she felt him stiffen, knew by feel that this was the moment before he’d come undone. Chris groaned as he came, pulsing across her tongue, tugging at her hair as his hips lifted off the bench.
“Oh my god,” Chris gasped when he finally regained his breath. Jill grinned and sat back on the bench beside him.
“I told you I was going to cheer you up,” she said, kissing his cheek. He turned his face to hers and kissed her hard.
“I think we’re going to need to go into overtime,” he said as he readjusted himself and zipped up his pants. He stood up and pulled her to her feet, pressing her against the lockers with a clang as he kissed her again. “However,” he continued, kissing her neck, “I think we should head out so I can have the homefield advantage.”
Jill laughed.
“Are you done with all the sports metaphors?” she teased. Chris grinned as he took her hand and led her out of the locker room.
“Not even close.”
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