Re: Locker room, warnings for homofobic language and violence
After a long and stressful game, Sam was more than happy to retire to the locker room for a hot shower and to get home and pass out in bed. Sam had been feeling lightheaded and a little nauseous ever since half-time. There had been something severely off during the game- the Titans didn’t feel like a united team and Sam had a hunch it had to do with the latest article from that slimy afro-headed sleaze, Jacob. A few times throughout the game, some of the guys questioned his plays and made snide comments; it made his job as quarterback and the team leader a lot harder when he wanted to punch his teammates in the face. Still, he had a job to do and Sam made it through with out snapping.
“Good game, you guys,” Sam called out to the locker room full of freshly showered football players, mainly talking to the glee guys, who followed him unquestionably, “Let’s hurry up and get the hell out of here.”
Sam was pulling his shirt on over his head when he heard one of their linebackers (John? Joseph? He couldn’t remember his name) speak up.
“What, so you can go make out with that homo from the Cheerios?”
Sam’s head poked out through his shirt in time to see Joey? George? get a high-five from Azimio.
“What was that, Jeff?” (JEFF! That’s what his name was!) Sam asked, eyes narrowing and a fist clenching at his side to keep from launching across the locker room to kick his ass. At least, not without giving him the opportunity to apologize first.
“Nothing, Evans,” The other player smirked, “But I was wondering if you could answer something I‘ve been wondering about- is the fag that much of a frigid bitch in bed too or does he actually let you stick it in him?”
That was the last straw; Sam was sick and tired of just letting people say whatever they wanted. They could call him homeless or big mouthed, but saying anything against Kurt- against his best friend and the only person who had really been there for him when he had been suffering last year- that was too much.
His body reacted before his mind caught up and when it did, Sam had already flung himself at Jeff-whatever-his-stupid-ass-was-called, fist slamming into his face in rage. The locker room was in chaos with guys rushing to pull them apart and them trying to get at each other.
Sam’s head swam as he grabbed onto Jeff’s arm, a sudden wave of nausea sweeping over him. But something was really off. Jeff had frozen up on the spot and suddenly Sam felt a rushing of something hot and burning run up his arm, through his body, overwhelming him. Jeff began shaking, his eyes rolling back into his head as Sam tried to let go, to get away from the overpowering surge of something that seemed to be coursing from the other boy into him. It was too much, he felt like he was going to explode, there was too much and everything went black.
When Sam came to, he was lying on the floor of the locker room, one of the medics hovering over him and flashing a light into his eyes. His vision swam and his head throbbed.
Jeff was being carried out on a stretcher, unconscious and still.