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Solitary Togetherness	By : simplysakka Category: Individual Celebrities > Brady Quinn Views: 1079 -:- 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
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“Ooooof…” The world crashed down as the defensive end body-slammed Quinn into the turf. He saw stars, he felt dizzy, queasy, but got to his feet and called the next play.
“Arizona six green forty-six white!” The players scrambled to their positions. Brady screamed his audibles and his center hiked the ball to him. Brady’s eyes downfield, he spotted his tight end and he squeezed the ball tight, as if he was putting a little prayer on it, before releasing it. He felt it leave his hand a half-second before he was hitting the turf again, this time at the hands of a Purdue defensive tackle. “Ahhh-ooompf…” Brady tasted blood. His back hurt, his shoulders hurt. His head spinning, he got to his feet.
“Goddammit Evans, Sharp – keep ‘em off me!” he screamed before calling the next play.
“Readdyyyyyyy…set! Fifty seven green MIAMI! Check check – Pittsburgh! Hut…HUT!!!!”
Wham! Brady couldn’t get up then. He was sacked and down for the count. It took a full thirty seconds and an injury time-out to get him back up, and he was on the sidelines for the rest of the game against Purdue. His backup quarterback failed miserably, and threw an interception immediately that cost them the game.
He remembered how out of control he felt during that game, those moments... He was at the mercy of the tough Purdue defense, and it was because his o-line wasn’t protecting him. He felt like he was spinning in space, nothing to grasp or grab onto, nothing to hide behind or go up against. Blowing in the wind.
As he looked into Jay Cutler’s piercing blue eyes, he began to feel that same sensation. It chilled him to the bone, even though he was already cold and shivering from the freak rainstorm. And he felt out of control. And he needed to be in control. Brady Quinn couldn’t be out of control. He couldn’t.
He realized he was squeezing Jay’s biceps with a viselike grip, and not only did he feel Jay’s intense stare pulling him in, but Jay himself was tugging Brady closer, his mouth open slightly, panting, licking his lips…
“Noooo…” Brady whispered and let go… He turned away, shaking his head, and he wanted to run. He felt like the whole world was crushing in on him. His parents, his overbearing father, his tense mother, his gruff coach, all of his teammates in his shadow… He felt like he was being watched at this moment by all of them, and the shame and guilt and taboo of it all pressed in on him. It all became too much. Quinn slammed up against the side of the storage shed and pounded his fist against it. He rested his head against the cold concrete wall and felt tears stinging his eyes.
Nothing but the sound of the rain and the wind was in his ears when he suddenly felt gentle, warm hands on his shoulders. Brady shrugged them off. “I can’t… I can’t…do this…” He turned around and shook his head at Cutler, his eyes full of pain and fear.
“Brady,” Jay whispered. They stared at each other again, just like that, for a long, long moment. “Brady,” Jay whispered again. “Noooo…” Quinn whispered back, rocking his head back and forth violently, and tearing his gaze away.
He looked down, feeling crazy. What was going on? What was this all about? He’d never felt anything like this before. He didn’t want to feel like this, not about a guy. But at the same time, he felt so drawn to Jay Cutler, in ways he didn’t and couldn’t understand, and realized that, at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to be closer to him. And yet, he was pushing him away.
It was as if Jay could read his mind. He said, in a quiet voice that was almost drowned out by the storm, “What do you want, Brady?”
Brady looked up at him again, and took him in. His light brown hair, wet and sticking to his forehead, strong brow, the droplets of rain falling off his dark lashes that canopied those extraordinary, powerful, blazing blue eyes… His nose, protracted but not overbearing, and his eager mouth framed by lips not too full but not thin, either… Lips that were slightly parted, showing his straight, white teeth underneath. The skin of his face was clear and blemish-free, and a lone small mole dotted his lower cheek above his jaw line. Strong chin, but not domineering. Quite a perfect face, actually.
Christmas had always been a time of muted celebration masking the family drama of parental showcasing at the Quinn home. :Little Brayden and his sister Laura always had more than enough, but their parents always loaded them down during the holidays with “keeping up with the Joneses” fare that made them the talk of the neighborhood, the school, the team, the clubs, their friends… It was nerve-racking and often led to many more problems than it did perks. Brady remembered his sister planning their escape around Thanksgiving one year. They packed a pillowcase full of pop-tarts, two changes of clothes, Laura’s stuffed Garfield toy and Quinn’s autographed Bernie Kosar jersey. But when they walked two blocks from home, Brady got homesick. He remembered distinctly Laura putting her arms around her brother protectively and asking, “What do YOU want, Brady? Do you want to go home?” His eyes tear-filled, he nodded, and Laura had walked home with her arms around him the whole way. They were still very close. Would she understand this? Something he, himself, couldn’t even understand?
What did he want? He had to admit to himself at this very moment that something he’d really like is for Jay to put his arms around him the way Laura had that day.
He opened his mouth to try and answer Cutler’s query, but nothing came out. His mouth was working, but no words were falling from his lips.
Jay’s hands slowly came up to rest gently on Quinn’s shoulders, but he did not try to pull him close. He dipped his head a bit to grab Brady’s eyes and smiled ever-so slightly. Brady blinked and looked away. His hands came up and rested gently around the Vanderbilt quarterback’s forearms.
“What do I want?” he said, his voice ragged.
“Yes…” Cutler whispered. “Tell me what YOU want. Not everyone else. Not your dad… Your coaches or your players. What is it that Brady Quinn wants?”
Brady bit his lips and swallowed. “What I want…”
“Yes…” Cutler whispered, encouraging him…
“What I… I want…is…”
Jay stared deeply into Quinn’s chocolate brown eyes, breathing so deeply his chest was heaving with each inhalation.
“What I want right now is to lick the inside of your mouth so completely that all you can taste is me.”
Brady’s mouth fell open and he gasped with the shock and exertion of his honesty. Jay gasped too, blinking, and he pushed Brady back—HARD--against the cement wall of the shed, their mouths raging together like the storm around them, lips pressing tight, arms squeezing around each other’s necks, teeth biting lips, tongues brushing, breathing each other’s breath, hot, intense, ripe with need, fierce with swollen passion.
It was as if the rain had swept them up in its intensity and the tempest rampaged on…
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Solitary Togetherness