The early morning rain had cleared, leaving a damp fog in its wake when the match started. The sun's hot rays were warm on Sam's face, but the fog made it difficult to breathe, coupled with the chill that cut through his football shirt. The ground was soft and there were little beads of raindrops the grass which was already churned up in places.

Sam knew quite well that he'd have a whole lot of trouble scrubbing mud off his kit before he tossed it into his washing machine later.

Sam had left Clay a few hours earlier so he could go pick up his kit at his apartment and head to the pitch for some light practice before the football match started. Coach Wesley would rip his bullocks off if he was late again.

He'd missed practice last week all because he'd been busy fucking Clay's hole with his fingertips and rimming the red head in the shower and had lost track of time. As a consequence, he'd missed the warm-ups on both days and ended up with a muscle pull that lingered for two weeks, so he wasn't going to take any chances again.

As the team came out and took their respective places on the football pitch an hour later, ready for Coach Wesley's big blue whistle, Sam found himself searching the sidelines for Clay's red curls of hair among the girlfriends of his companions. There were no stands and only a few benches in front of the clubhouse, so spectators normally just stood on the sidelines. He was about giving up when he spotted Clay; his massive bright curls bound up into two long pigtails, so he'd been harder to pick out amidst the other girls dressed in cheerleading uniforms. Sam did a double take as his eyes skirted up Clay's short skirt and bare belly, to his blushing face.

Fuck.

Clay waved a pompom at him enthusiastically, his smile stretching across his face as Sam grinned back at him.

Good thing the boys preferred going home to wash-up after matches. They would have the shower stall to themselves.

"Who's that?" Franklin asked as he came up beside him, doing jumping jacks to keep warm. He looked over at Clay with burning curiosity, then turned his enquiring eyes back at Sam.

"That's Clay." Sam stated simply, deliberately evading the implied question and answering the literal one.

He'd thought that after he'd ended things with Frank, the brunette would avoid him or drop off the team, but Frank had only been eager as ever, wanting to know everything that went on in Sam's love life — or lack of it — and had insisted on telling Sam about his own intimate relationship with his cop lover, even though Sam showed great disinterest in knowing the details.

"Wow, I didn't think you found red-heads attractive." Frank removed the brownish locks that fell over his eyes following his jumping movements and looked over at Clay again. "Love the outfit. How did you both meet?"

"Neighbours." Sam replied just as the referee called out to them. saving him from further questions. They joined the rest of the team, Frank sidling into position, but Sam had a nagging feeling he'd be hearing more from the brunette soon.

The match didn't go as Sam had anticipated. The opposing team played so well that Hamptons were kept on their toes, trying to keep up and guard their defense. Sam played defense and found himself in a tight spot as he didn't stop running the entire first half of the game. The visitors managed a second goal - one that made both teams even - just before the whistle blew. Sam's team went off to be cautioned by Wesley on tactics and came back fighting their heads off.

With both teams equal at the beginning of the second match, Hamptons tried to secure a third goal but they were stuck playing defensively as the other team kept breaking away and going for goal.

Finally, in the last few minutes of the game a member of the opposing team knocked a Hampton player off his feet and they secured a penalty. "Alright guys, private talk." Coach had them huddle together and warn them fiercely that they should not let this victory slip off their fingers. With only a three minutes or so left to play, the boys were already giving up, save for Coach's motivational speech. Sam was experienced with penalty kicks from afar but gifted when it came to those up close so he was the only eligible choice. With Frank taking the corner kick and the goalie's hand whipping the ball out the net back into the pitch, Sam leapt forward and connected just right there, clipping the perfect, calculated kick into the corner of the net and well out the goalie's range. He didn't even try to get anywhere near it.

"Fucking yesssssssss!" Sam bellowed out in triumph, his hands suspended as his teammates hoisted him over their shoulders, chanting a mantra. They eventually let him down and threw themselves at him, hugging and pounding him on his back. Just as the final whistle sounded, Sam was whirled around and treated to a soft peck by lips oddly familiar. He opened his eyes to see Frank blushing good-naturedly. He pinched the brunette's cheek lightly before shrugging him off.

"Magnificent goal, mate," Frank hollered, throwing a slim arm over his shoulder. "That was amazing. You play so well.”

"I guess so. Thanks." Sam replied distractedly, searching the sidelines. There was one person he definitely wanted a hug and kiss from. His eyes finally landed on Clay who jumped with the other girls, pompoms high up in the air in cheer, then the red head realizing that Sam was watching him, broke off from his female companions to come embrace him.

"Well done, dear. That was brilliant."

Clay was out of breath when Sam hoisted him up into a hug, hiking an arm around Clay's bare buttcheeks that was partly exposed by the short skirt.

When Clay began giggling, Sam remembered himself. "Oh I'm sorry. I always forget that you're not out yet as I am."