Do I Have a Tight End
by Gilda Lily

*Ray sat back against the couch, his body deflated like a leftover party balloon. "Crap," he mumbled, his fingers gripping the TV remote. What a lousy turn of events. The Chicago Bears had just lost to the Philadelphia Eagles in the play-offs. Crap, crap, crap.

He sighed. Now what? He was too wiped from working overtime all week to suggest a walk, and besides, Dief was sleeping soundly in his favorite spot on the throw rug by the window. He looked at Benny, curled up on his side and fast asleep on the rest of the couch. Ray smiled fondly. The Mountie had been working hard all week, too, and today had finally caught up with them. Oh, well, at least they had tomorrow off, too.

He began channel-surfing, bored until a certain scene flashed on the screen. Sitting up, his eyes piqued with interest.

"Perfect," he muttered, and settled back to take a nap himself.

*

He awoke at 7:45 to see blue eyes staring sleepily at him. "Hey, Benny."

"Hello, Ray." Benny yawned. "Have I been sleeping all afternoon?"

"Just about."

"Who won the football game?"

"The Eagles."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta win and someone's gotta lose."

Benny glanced at the TV set, then sat up with interest. "What's that?"

Ray grinned. "I thought you might find this interesting. All that snow is in Foxboro, Massachusetts, for the AFC game. The Patriots are playing the Oakland Raiders. I saw the promo for it a few hours ago. It's been snowing all afternoon."

Benny sat up, Ray snickering. The Italian rose from the couch and stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave. He plucked two Pepsis from the refrigerator and took out a bag of potato chips. A few minutes later he came into the living room with the sodas and two bowls of snacks. Dief began sniffing around.

"Watch it, wolf. Here. Have a piece of steak."

Dief happily chowed down on the beef as Ray settled onto the couch.

The snow was heavy in Foxboro, the two football teams slipping and sliding on the field. Ray had a rooting interest in the Patriots, since he had relatives in Boston's Italian North End. Benny decided to root for the team, too, as he was not particularly fond of the fearsome image that the Raiders projected with their black jerseys and mean personas. Ray smiled. He remembered when they had been shopping for Halloween decorations one year. Benny had disliked a string of skull lights, preferring smiling pumpkin faces instead. His Mountie could kick the crap out of any bad guy who came down the pike, but he still liked nice rather than mean.

Ray was happy with that. Nice suited him, as long as it was Canadian nice.

The game started out well for the Patriots, but Oakland soon built up a 13-3 lead. Benny and Ray noshed on their snacks and drank their sodas, brushing their shoulders against each other. Ray's leg found its way over Benny's, and they sat entwined as the snow fell on the TV screen and the players forged ahead.

By halftime the score was unchanged. Ray drank the last of his soda and regarded his lover. "So, you enjoying the game?"

"Yes, despite the fact that our chosen team appears to be losing."

"They've still got a chance. It's only the half. From what I hear, they've been pretty hot lately." Ray wiggled his eyebrows. "Kinda like you, Bennyluv."

Benny smiled, his cheeks growing pink, and he snuggled against his lover.
As the halftime approached its end, Ray got up and got fresh snacks and drinks. The snow was still coming down in Foxboro.

"Just like home, eh, Benny?"

"Yes, Ray."

It looked grim for the Patriots as they couldn't seem to score, then quarterback Tom Brady commanded a drive that culminated in him diving over the goal line to score.

"Cool. 13-10," Ray said after the extra point.

"Very efficient," Benny approved.

Ray laughed. "You'd make a great quarterback, Benny."

"I would, Ray?"

"Yeah. Cool under fire. Perfect passing, though I would be awfully tempted to sack you."

Benny's eyes twinkled. "So you would desire to tackle me?"

"Oh, yeah."

Benny moved his ass slightly on the couch. Ray noticed but hid his smile.

The clock ticked down to 1:42 left in the game. It looked as if the Oakland Raiders were going to move on to the AFC Championship next week.

"Whoa! Oh, cripes, look's like a fumble!"

One of the Oakland players had hit Brady and the ball had dribbled out onto the field.

"Crap." Ray scowled. "They should be calling a roughing the passer penalty on that play."

Suddenly, the referees were reviewing the play.

"Whoa! They ruled it an incomplete pass!"

The referee gave the complicated explanation, and the Patriots were still alive. Ray leaned forward.

"You know what my Cousin Vinnie in Boston told me?"

"No, what?"

"That in 1976, the Patriots played the Raiders and one of their players was called for roughing the passer. Except that it was more like a phantom call, because it was really non-existent. The Raiders took that gift and scored, winning the game."

"Ah."

"Seems to me that karma is working here. Let's see if the Pats can use that."

The snow seemed to be coming down harder than ever. The fans, 60,000 strong, cheered and jumped up and down in their excitement. Ray snickered that they were probably trying to keep warm, too, as the temperature hovered in the low twenties.

"The Patriots have field position! Here comes their kicker."

Adam Vinatieri, one of the best kickers in the league, trotted out to prepare for a kick that would have to go more than 45 yards.

"Maybe they'll get the snowplow guy out again."

"Snowplow guy?" Benny queried.

Ray grinned. "Yeah. Back in the early '80s against Miami, the Patriots were playing in the snow again. They got a guy named Mark Henderson who was on a work-release program from prison to come out on his little machine and clear off the area for the kicker, John Smith. Smith kicked it right through the uprights and the Patriots won, 3-0."

Benny laughed.

"Look, they're clearing off the snow while Oakland calls time out." Ray swigged his Pepsi, green eyes intent on the screen. "If Vinatieri makes this..."

The football was lined up, and Vinatieri drew back his leg and swung forward.

The ball soared through the snow, people desperately trying to track its progress.

"Did it make it?" Ray cried.

"I think so!"

"*It's good!*" yelled the announcer.

"Yes!!" Ray pumped his fist. "A fellow Italiano comes through!"

Benny smiled at his lover's enthusiasm.

"They've tied it up. Overtime."

Ray's stomach growled. He decided to order a pizza. The toppings included sliced tomatoes, chicken and broccoli. *Must be Benny's influence. Healthy stuff*, he thought. Clicking off his cellphone, he settled back on the couch to watch as the overtime period started.

The Patriots got the ball and the drive started. The fans were so pumped up that they no longer bothered to sit on the cold metal bleachers.

"Did you know that this stadium was built for 6.7 million bucks back in '71? That was cheap even for then."

"I would call it frugal, Ray."

Ray chuckled. "It's all concrete and metal bleachers and about as minimalist you can get." His eyes sparkled. "Sounds like your kinda place, Benny."

"Very funny, Ray."

The Patriots drove down the field close enough for a field goal attempt. Ray crossed his fingers and Vinatieri set up.

"Where's Mark Henderson when you need him?"

Vinatieri kicked. The ball sailed through the snow.

"It's good!" Ray yelped as he bounced up and down on the couch. "They win! Man, payback is sweet!"

Benny was pleased, too, and Dief's bright eyes were watching the celebration on the screen by 60,000 cheering fans and ecstatic players. Ray sat back against the couch.

"Whew, that was a corker!"

"It was exciting."

They watched the celebrations and then the doorbell rang. Benny indicated that Ray should stay on the couch and he went to answer the summons. A gum-chewing teenager held out a pizza box, a wire going from his ear to the pocket of his Speedy Pizza jacket.

"Hey, didja hear that the Patriots won in the snow?"

"Yes, we just watched the game."

"Cool, man. Bears suck."

"No kidding," Ray shouted from the couch, and the kid grinned.

Benny paid him with a generous tip, then brought the pizza back in. Ray got fresh sodas and they sat in front of the TV, watching the pandemonium in Foxboro.

"That was the best game I've seen all year."

The pizza was hot and the Pepsis cold, and Ray was blissfully enjoying himself. He had his Benny and had just watched a great football game. What more could he ask for?

"Ray, do I have a tight end?"

Ray nearly spewed his drink. "Um, yeah, Benny."

Benny took a bite of pizza and chewed. "I find it quite interesting, this game of football."

"Yeah, why?"

"I have never seen a game that requires a man to bend over and another man to stand behind him, and then take a ball from in between his legs."

This time Ray choked, and Benny helpfully pounded him on the back. His expression was angelic as he asked, "Are you all right, Ray?"

"Y...Yeah, just...peachy, Benny." Ray coughed again but swigged down his soda.

They finished the pizza and sodas and Ray got up to put the remains in the trash. After he had disposed of the paper plates, pizza box, and cans, he returned to the living room. Suddenly he let out a whoosh! of breath and fell to the floor.

"What are you doin', Benny?"

"Making a tackle, Ray."

Ray grinned. "Hey, I'd call this roughin' the passer."

"Yes, you do tend to make passes at me, Ray."

Ray wiggled his butt under Benny. "In case you hadn't noticed, Benny, I'm on the bottom here and you're on the top."

A nip of his neck produced a yelp from Ray. "Yes, and that suits me just fine, Ray."

"Benneee...!!!"

They laughed as they wrestled, then Ray squirmed around to face his lover, who grabbed his wrists and held them down. Bright eyes met bright eyes, and Benny leaned down to kiss his hot Italian.

"Mmm," Ray said, his groin grinding into Benny's. He tasted pizza.

Benny broke the kiss, his hair tousled, and he suddenly lifted his body off Ray. As Ray sat up, he was suddenly grabbed and lifted into strong Mountie arms.

"Why, Benny, deah, I hahd no idea you were so strong," Ray said in a Southern belle accent.

"You just wait, my darlin'," Benny answered, clearly delighted to be playing the game.

Ray was gently deposited on the cot that Benny called a bed, and he extended his arms to welcome his big, strong lover.

Kisses were exchanged, Benny sealing himself over the slender Italian's body, then they squirmed and wriggled as they divested themselves of their clothes. Benny immediately cupped Ray's buttocks and squeezed.

"Yes, tight and peachy," he breathed into Ray's ear.

"You gonna pat my butt?"

Benny did.

"You gonna make me a wide receiver?"

Benny pulled Ray's cheeks apart.

"You gonna score a touchdown?"

Benny lubed them both, and slid in. Ray groaned, throwing his head back. He matched his lover's rhythm, their bodies joined as sweat gleamed on their skin. Benny's thrusts were hard and passionate, his hunger driving him on as Ray received him quite nicely. Ray felt himself close to soaring, his heart racing as Benny pounded into him. Love and lust spilled over together as Ray cried out, stars pinwheeling before his eyes. He gasped as he came down from the orgasm high, jolted by Benny's burst of seed deep within him a few minutes later.

Benny collapsed on top of him, warm breath tickling his ear. Ray slid his arms around the perfect torso and sighed.

"Ray?"

"Yeah, Benny?"

"How did you like my penetration of your end zone?"

Ray's eyes widened, then he burst out laughing.

"Benny, I liked it just fine!"

They both laughed themselves silly as they hugged each other.*

END

Pairing: Benny/Ray V.
Categories: Humor, Challenge.
Rating: NC-17.
Well, I wrote some Super Bowl Challenges after I'd started this story. #3 was football in general, and so I guess this counts as I'm using the Snow Bowl as my backdrop. :) I'm a New England Patriots fan (and have been through the good times and the bad) and come what may in the Big Game, I'm proud of what they've done this season. They're a class act. So are Benny and Ray (Dief, too!) and so I offer this little tale that uses the best of football metaphors (ahem) for your reading enjoyment. Some Shannon fans may notice that I took a scenario from a Halloween story of hers ("TRICK OR TREAT") because I liked it so much. Oh, and the New England Quarterback? He's hot, my fellow Slash Sluts! ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Alliance does. I just get to use the whip on them now and again.
(c) January 31, 2002