Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Solitary Togetherness	By : simplysakka Category: Individual Celebrities > Brady Quinn Views: 1110 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Brady Quinn or Jay Cutler, this is entirely a work of fiction, and I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Brady wasn’t sure what possessed him to drag the Vanderbilt quarterback to the seediest dive in South Bend, but that’s where they ended up, perched on two beat-up barstools and drinking Michelob UItra on draft.
            His first thought when Jay asked him to get a drink was that the guy wanted to pump him for information. After all, Notre Dame had won, Vandy had lost, and he was sure that Jay’s coach had put him up to this. But when Jay was really quiet on the subject of football, and pretty quiet overall in general, Quinn was really baffled. After 20 minutes of chatter about the weather, how classes were going, and whether or not Brady had plans for spring break, he was really starting to wonder. Finally, he couldn’t help himself.
            “Man, why did you come here? How come you aren’t in Nashville?”
            Jay took a slow sip of his beer, smiled, and then said, “I finished up my classes early this week. I like to come home for long weekends sometimes.”
            Brady blinked a few times and sipped his own beer, processing this. “H—home? You live in South Bend?”
            Jay looked down smiled, and then looked up again. “Well, not exactly. I’m from Santa Claus, Lincoln City, actually.” That stare again. Those eyes. Just…wow.
            Brady looked away when he felt dizzy. Then he glanced back. “Man, that’s over six hours from here! You can’t tell me you just like to spend six hours on the road when you’ve already driven up from Tennessee!”
            “I flew, actually,” Cutler said, his hand sliding slowly up and down the curved glass, wetting his fingers with the condensation from the cold beer within.
            Brady half-smiled cockily and said, “Okay, so you’re on a mission. You ain’t fooling me with all this banter unrelated to the game. Your coach put you up to this? Get him drunk and then steal the Fighting Irish secrets?”
            Cutler laughed, a hearty, abrupt deep laugh that went on and on. He shook his head and said, “Nah, come on, man. I just wanted to talk to you.”
            Quinn bit his lip, and then ventured, “About what?”
            Jay took a deep breath and looked Brady right in the eyes. “Just about you.”
            Suddenly, Brady felt like he was spinning, and he had the sensation that he couldn’t breathe. What was happening? Meanwhile, Jay kept up the deep, penetrating gaze, and Quinn had to look away, down, anywhere but at Jay Cutler. What the fuck was this? Did he have some kind of magical stare or something? Brady blushed in spite of himself, and chastened by this, took a deep drag on his beer.
            “Why me? What’s the deal with that?”
            Jay pushed his beer back on the counter and sat forward. “I like the way you played that game. I watched you. And then I realized, I wanna get to know this guy. So here I am. Don’t you ever feel like that?”
            “No, not really,” Brady said, perhaps a little too quickly. He looked back up at Jay hesitantly, but his gaze never faltered. “I mean… Well, I don’t hang out with very many people. Too many guys just want to be my friend because I’m the quarterback. I don’t even want to start with the girls. And … well, I’m pretty much a loner. I don’t even have very many buddies back home in Columbus.” Brady looked down, shyly, and said, “Weird, huh?”
            Jay shook his head and licked his lips. “No. No, not weird. In fact, I’m the same. The same way,” he said, with an empty gesture. “I don’t have very many friends at school, which is why I like to come home on weekends. I try to finish my classwork and studies by Wednesday night and come home on Thursday. Sometimes I drive, other times, I fly, like I did this weekend.”
            The bar wasn’t very crowded for a Thursday night, and Brady was grateful that he didn’t have any classes tomorrow. The lab he was scheduled for had been cancelled, and there was no game tomorrow. In fact, Brady had to admit to himself that he had brought Jay here rather than to one of the more popular Notre Dame hangouts, since he knew that he’d be recognized there by teammates, classmates, hangers-on, all of them. No, he wanted Jay Cutler all to himself.
            Wait…did he just think that? Quinn shook his head almost imperceptibly to rid himself of the thought, and noticed that Jay was ordering them another round.
            He looked back up at the Vandy quarterback and smiled at him. Jay smiled back, and said, “You have a good smile. You’ll look great on SI one day.”
            Brady laughed, and clapped Jay on the shoulder. Except when he opened his hand to remove it, he felt the warmth of the other man’s shoulder and he hesitated a moment. Jay’s eyes glanced up slowly and locked with Brady’s for a moment. Again, that dizzy, crazy feeling. Quinn removed his hand and cleared his throat, accepting a new glass from the bartender and then saluting Cutler before he took a draught of it.
            Jay smiled and picked up his own glass. “To solitude…and the friendship it brings,” he said, smiling. Brady couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll drink to that,” and they clinked glasses.
            As he set his glass down on the counter, Brady laughed and shook his head. “Come on, man, you mean to tell me that your coach didn’t put you up to this? You sure you’re not out to steal the secrets of the Fighting Irish for the Commodores?”
            Jay chuckled and a broad smile crossed his face as he shook his head. ‘Man, he has a nice smile,’ Brady mused to himself. Great eyes, a nice smile, and he was here because he wanted to know more about him. Him! Brady Quinn. Well, there wasn’t much to tell. He was studying hard and playing equally as hard, hoping to hell that he would make it in the big league and could leave all of this political science and finance in the dust.
            “What about you? Tell me more about you,” Brady said.
            “There’s not much to tell,” Jay said, in that soft voice that was sending unconscious shivers down Quinn’s spine. “I’m studying human and organizational development.” Brady laughed. “What the hell are you going to do with that?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye. Jay replied, “Well, I could potentially help to run my father’s business, but honestly – I’m just hoping to make it into the draft in a year or two.”
            Brady grinned. “Man, you’re not kidding there. Me, too. Me, too…” He was acutely aware of how much the two quarterbacks from the Midwest were clicking, and he had a strange sensation in his stomach that he’d never felt before, though it was exciting and thrilling, almost like the feeling one gets before a first date. But they weren’t on a date – were they? This was just guy time. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. Guy time. Just two football players shooting the shit in a bar. That’s all.
            “What are you so nervous about?” Jay suddenly asked, his eyes piercing him again. Brady had the sense that Cutler could look right through him, look into his soul.
            “Nervous? Me? Well… I didn’t think I was. I guess… I’m just not really at ease with people, I suppose…” Brady wasn’t really happy with his answer. After all, he was feeling at ease, to a degree, with Jay Cutler – but perhaps more so than he was comfortable with, and that was, indeed, the rub.
            “You seem jumpy. Am I making you nervous, with these questions?” Jay looked very serious now, and there was even something smacking of concern in his bluer-than-blue eyes.
            “No, no man, not at all. It’s … it’s probably just this bar. Why don’t we get out of here, huh?” Brady quickly tossed back the rest of his beer and pulled a twenty out of his pocket.
            Jay grabbed his hand and Brady felt like he had been hit by a bolt of lightning at the contact. “Let me get this,” Jay said, quietly, handing his own twenty to the bartender. “Oh—okay…” Quinn shoved the bill back into his pocket, but inside, he was mourning the loss of the touch of Jay’s hand. It felt so warm, but electric, too, exciting in a way that Brady was unfamiliar with.
            The two men walked out of the bar and headed down the street, back toward the campus. “Where do you want to go?” Jay asked as they strolled down the dark, lamplit street. “I don’t know,” Brady replied. “How bout we go back to the practice field? I love it there – that’s my sanctuary.”
            “I know exactly what you mean,” Jay responded, and Brady took a moment to beam at him before the two walked off in the direction of the stadium
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Solitary Togetherness