Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Oh, uh, boyo,” Colin caught him before Trent could enter the locker room. Almost as if he were waiting for Trent. Keeping watch. It made the man suspicious. “You don't want to go in there, mate.”

“Why,” Trent questioned. There had never been anything happening in the locker room that Trent hadn't been let to see—since Roy had given his okay, at least. He'd even been present for some physical fights, which was why Trent was certain this was something very different. He pushed past Colin who weakly tried to stop him again, but ended up just following him into the room instead. 

There was a crowd gathered in front of a large screen display. From the top of the image that Trent could see, it was the corner camera from Ted's office. “You know, I think the journo has it,” Jamie Tartt's voice could be heard above the crowd. “Best way to get the gaffer to shut it is to keep his mouth busy!”

Trent's stomach plummeted. No one had noticed him yet, but that wasn't going to last long. He could feel Colin behind him as he tried to back up. He must have made some sort of noise because everyone turned to look at him. The seas parted and Trent saw the full image: himself splayed across Ted's desk, knees over the man's shoulders as Ted eats him out. 

The camera angle only gets Ted from the back and side, but there's a full image of Trent's flushed, blissed out face as he drags Ted roughly against his cunt. In the background of his screaming mind, Trent's analytical brain registered that it wasn't a bad sex tape. He'd seen bad. This one was almost tastefully done, except it was him and Ted Lasso and the entire Richmond team was watching it.

How had they even got their hands on it?

Trent glanced towards the coach's office, but it was dark. Where were the coaches? Trent's heart rate spikes. His encouragement for Colin to come out was one thing—he was their team mate, a member of their club, a friend. They were likely to accept him because of all of that. This was different.  Trent had written about them. Had been following them around, watching them. And now… he was surrounded by a group of men who were paid to work out and they'd just discovered exactly how queer he was.

Trent wasn't worried about Ted. He'd been in enough locker rooms to know the general thoughts: a fanny is a fanny, a mouth is a mouth. Coach Lasso might have to dodge some tyranny fanny jokes, but he was certain that would be the end of it. 

Trent at least knew enough self-defense that he wouldn't go down without a fight. He had a pen in his pocket that was sharp enough to cut skin, if he needed it. He hoped he didn't. He hoped Colin wouldn't join in the violence, but mob mentality was a tricky beast and Trent wouldn't blame him. He appreciated the kid's warning and that was enough. One of the players shifted towards Trent, he shifted his foot back slowly. Taking down a professional football player, even in self-defense, would black ball him from every sport. His career—his entire life was decided in the next five seconds. 

Ted chose that moment to enter in with the rest of the coaches in tow behind him. He froze in place at the sight on the screen. “Where did you get that?”

“On the stick you gave me,” Jamie said. “It was the same date as our match with—”

“Okay!” Ted said brightly, finally jumping into action. He crossed the room and shut the laptop, darkening the TV screen. Trent thought the image might be burned there forever. “We're going to have a conversation about privacy and need-to-know information—”

“Like how we need to know you and the journo are fucking?” One of the guys asked.

“I think it is sweet,” Dani said to Trent, “how you and the coach spent the night in each others arms.” 

‘Honestly, mate,” Jamie said. “If you didn't want everyone knowing you were shagging in public, you shouldn't have recorded and kept it. That's why delete all mine from my phone.” He sounded smug. 

“Bruv,” Isaac admonished. “It ain't even on his phone. You went through Coach's private property.”

There was a rise in voices as, apparently, different sides argued their point about it. After a moment, Sam's voice cut through. “Guys!” He was holding his phone out. “This article says Keeley was one of the girls attacked.” Trent had seen the list earlier. Was that where the coaches had been? Running damage control for their perky PR manager? 

That news seemed to quiet things down for a moment until Isaac spoke up. “That's it, everyone deletes everything from their phones. Now.”

There were several cries of despair and some verbal arguments breaking out, so Ted took the opportunity to grab the laptop and Trent and haul them both back to his office.

“You knew that existed,” Trent accused as soon as the door shut behind him.

“I wasn't trying to keep it from you,” Ted insisted. 

Trent decided to pretend to give him the benefit of the doubt. “When were you going to tell me?” It had happened a month ago. That seemed like plenty of time to Trent.

“I was waiting for the right time!” Apparently not for Coach Lasso.

He glared at at the man. “The right time is immediately after you find the sextape!”

“There wasn't enough time to—”

Trent cuts him off. “I found our sextape—that's four words Ted! Hardly a busy headline.”

“But I wanted to talk to you about it.” He insisted, attention suddenly taken up by sorting and reorganizing his desk.

Trent watched him, finally stepping outside of his own insecurities to notice exactly how awkward Ted was acting. “Why?” Was it a self-image thing? Did Ted enjoy seeing himself in action or whatever? He tried to imagine Ted as one of those body builders constantly looking at themselves in a mirror, but the image was almost laughed 

“It's hot, Trent,” Ted insisted. “I…I like seeing you look like that.”

Trent could tell exactly how much Ted liked it and it shook him to the core. “You watched it,” Trent asked, shocked. Fresh heat rose to hus cheeks. “I didn't take you for a porno fan.”

“It's not porn, it's you.” When he looked up at Trent, Ted's eyes were pleading.

Trent sighed and sat down on the corner of Ted's desk and reached out to cup his cheek. Ted leaned into the touch. “You really want to keep it?”

“I won't if you tell me not to. I respect that.”

“The entire Richmond team saw it, Ted,” he reminded the man like it hadn't just happened. “I think they might have been studying it, from what I could tell.”

Ted’s smile turns pleased and dopey. “Yeah, that's…is saying that's unfortunate—”

“If you don't wipe that smug expression off your face,” Trent's grip on his cheek tightened just slightly, “I will break your jaw and we will see how unfortunate you find that.”

“That really shouldn't turn me on.” Ted said with wide, glassy eyes.

The expression does wonders for the rest of Trent’s misfiring nerves. “But it does?” Trent asks with a raised an eyebrow. 

“Ho, boy,” Ted let out a puff of air, “does it.”

Trent glances over his shoulder at the still full locker room. “I guess if the cat’s already out of the bag…” He leaned in and gave Ted a deep kiss. Kissing Ted set all kinds of sparks through Trent's body. He'd missed the feeling of being excited. 

Ted kisses back softly before pulling away. “This will settle down,” he promised. “It's not leaving Nelson Road.”

“Thank you,” Trent said with another kiss. “Maybe next time, don't give Jamie Tartt access to our sextape.”

“Now that's an idea i could have used yesterday,” Ted hummed in agreement.