A/N: The boys run into a spot of trouble during their celebrations...

Shoutout to: Aaron_Ledgers 

Darius POV

I sat at the bar while the team and everyone else was at the table. Although it was a night for celebrating, I honestly wasn't in the mood. The muscle in my cheek was pulsating. Suddenly all these memories came flooding through me like an avalanche as I stared at Bry from across the room...

One night of sin...that's the story of my life.

Always a single night of sin then I walk away. I walk away so I don't have to deal with the shit that follows...no strings...no ties...no hearts broken...just a good, hard fuck with whoever wants me, some ice-cold beer and I'm gone like a bat out of hell.

That's been the story of my life.

And yet, here's this guy...this beautiful guy who just told me that he loved me...that he's always loved me...

What the fuck am I doing?

Why did I feel sparks flying when our lips crashed in that corridor? I feel utterly lost right now...so what do I do? Easy...drown my sweet life in a bottle of beer...or two...or three...

One night of sin was all it took to get...for my baby boy to be conceived...but that was a time of torment.

I thought I was in love and that she loved me too. What's some good hot sex between frenemies?

Another night of sin between two good old friends...something never to be mentioned ever again...but...but I can't get it out of my head...especially not now...not while he's sitting there probably feeling just as confused as I am about all this...

I've always been the strong one.

I've watched my dad, a strong, stalwart military man fall apart when my mom died. I've watched him screw up his life wallowing into hard drinking. I've endured the flat side of his leather belt across my butt countless times...until he drummed it into my head that I should be more responsible...

I've always been the man who could take any kind of shit...turn it inside out and throw it back in the face of the enemy.

What the fuck is wrong with me now?

My heart is tired...my heart is tired of being pulled this way and that...slowly...so slowly I built this wall...I've hid in the shadows. I've learnt to master it...master it so well that I've disappeared...literally...

Bry...Bry...

Why the fuck are you doing this to me?

Why the fuck are you twisting my heart so that I can't breathe?

I can't even look at you without wanting to take you in my arms and drown in those crystal blue pools of yours...

I get shaken into reality by my loving son. The kids order a tumultuous amount of food and drink enough to feed an army. I chuckle at the thought but then again these are football players and they need all that energy as they are still growing boys...

Someone puts a couple of coins in the classic jukebox standing in the corner, and some great tunes start to play. I watch as my boy drags a reluctant Randy onto the dance floor and grabs him by the butt in front of everyone. Marcus doesn't even bat an eyelash, neither does the coach nor their teammates. I chuckle quietly to myself as I watched Nik and Felix roll Mick out onto the floor, twirling him around in his wheelchair with ARTURO in tow. It was utterly hilarious and sweet at the same time!

By this time, Bry picks himself up out of his bar stool and sidles up to me. He gently nudges my arm playfully and I nod a firm 'NO' but he won't quit. The music is a soft ballad and he yanks an equally reluctant me off of my bar stool onto the dance floor much to the surprise of the rest of the team, knowing how strict and a bit of a hard-ass I can be...

Marcus raises his eyebrows but says nothing as he inadvertently toasts us with his beer bottle. The man is fricking drunk, judging by that sauced look he tosses our way. His family tries to curb his drinking gently, by forcing the man to eat some food, and chug a big bottle of water during the process. I could only laugh as I know Marcus will feel the pressure of it all next morning when he wakes up with a painful, and sometimes queasy reminder of the night before.

It seems as if everything's fine when it's not. As the music plays, my stomach churns along with it.

What is this? Butterflies? I've never had them...at least not in a long time...

He pulls me close...too close to protest...as if I could anyway...simply because I've given up protesting. I just want to be held...after having my nerves jostled around lately. I need someone...someone who could take the pain away...not that my son wasn't capable...

I need another kind of comfort...of the sexual kind...and the way Bry is holding me right now, I find myself yearning for it...my body yielding to it as I rub up against him in the most seductive way imaginable...

What the fuck?

Whoa. He spins me around which I seriously wasn't expecting...then draws me into his embrace as we slow dance together. At this point I begin to wonder if the place we were in was gay-friendly. I wouldn't want to impose or make any patrons uncomfortable with our presence...

"Well look right here folks...a couple of queers clogging up the dance floor!" Some foul-mouthed asshole just bellowed above the music.

We stopped...all of us and turned around to face a bunch of guys wearing Stetsons. The posse shoved their way right through us, nearly causing my son and Randy to lose their footing. Luckily, Alonso was nearby and caught Randy's elbow, holding them both upright.

"They have just as much right to be here as you do, Jeff so don't you go stirring up trouble or I'll toss you out on your ear, got it?" I heard the bartender speak up for the very first time.

I was quietly told by one of the staff in passing that the owner/bartender of the establishment was a good friend of Marcus's, so we were apparently in good hands. The cowboy struts up towards the bar, wagging a finger at him threateningly.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do Jake! I come here as an upstanding patron and you give me jack-shit about stirring up trouble..." The cowboy hollers disrespectfully at the owner.

Now Bry, being such a caring soul offers to keep the peace and plants himself between the cowboy and the owner, much to my dismay.

"Easy there, fella, no need to get feisty now. Just grab your drink and move along, okay?" He even smiled at the guy. But this one wasn't having any of it. He pulled out a revolver and aimed it right at Bryant's chest. I was livid!

"Hey Mister! You'd better put that thing away unless you want the entire Rampant Rebels breathing down your neck!" Damien, Randy and the boys now stood from their table in formation, as the cowboy's friends opted to stay out of it by standing to one side.

"I ain't afraid of you queers. What're you gonna do to me, huh?" The man was belligerent, shoving the gun into Bryant's ribcage now.

Randy boldly came forward, distracting the man as I gingerly lifted my gun from underneath my jacket. I steadily took aim at the man from where I was.

"You'd better listen to him. He's their friend, and if you harm him, they'll be onto you like a pack of wild Hyenas. So better put that gun down like the boy says or you'll be sorry..." I cautioned, as my shooting arm came into view.

"Trust me...I NEVER miss..." I nodded, cocking my pistol right at him. All of a sudden, the man panicked, shooting Bryant point-blank and dropping the gun before he ran towards the exit.

His friends abandoned him as the boys gave chase, jumping him and pounding him into the floor, as Marcus tried to contain the boys from doing grievous bodily harm or else they would have gotten into trouble.

I overheard Marcus call for an ambulance and alerted our military police who were stationed nearby. But I felt numb, as I held a weak Bryant in my arms. He was bleeding out the other side, which meant there had been an exit wound, and sure enough ARTURO managed to locate the bullet, hanging onto it as evidence.

"Dear God, why does this always have to happen to people I love?" I whispered. Bryant's eyes suddenly fluttered open as he stared straight into my face.

"You love me?" He asked clearly, shocking me with his clarity.

"Yes, you big dope! I... I love you!" I sighed, declaring my love for him outright in front of everyone. Then, slowly bending my head close to his, my lips took aim straight for his as we heard the ambulance arrive just outside.

"He's in here boys. The bullet went out cleanly. We've managed to stop the bleeding..." Marcus concluded, as I had held my handkerchief over the exit wound, to stop it from bleeding out severely.

"Excellent sir. We'll take over from here..." They patched him up quickly with some bandages and adhesive gauze as I helped lift him onto the gurney. He was grinning like a wild man, hanging onto my hand, refusing to let go so I had little choice but to ride with him in the ambulance while the others followed in all our cars...