Gay Athlete Fanfictions

How Do I Really Feel? - Kevin Durant x Russell Westbrook

Published June 1, 2017

#prepare for Finals pt. 2.
~~~

Russell

I'm laying on my recliner at home, doing what no one thought I would be doing after all the tension that's happened between us for nearly a year.

I'm watching game 4 of the Western Conference Finals. I've been keeping up to date with all the Warriors' progression in the playoffs, ever since my team has gotten eliminated anyway, but it's not even that. I'm here watching my former teammate and former best friend. I'm only here for him.

I inhale sharply and sigh as I watch him dominate the court against the Spurs. He backs up against his defender and then shoots a long 2, fading away into the shadows, er, light I meant.

Of course, it swishes. The fans didn't cheer cause h_ll they're in San Antonio right now.

I grasp my soda pop and gulp the rest of it down, then I grab another one next to it and gulp half of the thing down.

My eyes return to the screen. Steph had just passed the ball to him, and he was crossing the dude up from half court. I open my phone up and scroll through my gallery, looking at all the pictures we had taken together in the past, reminiscing. Yes, I still hold on to the memories, even if I've been chippy as h_ll about him leaving. It's good to hold on to the past, but it's not good for my sanity, if that is even in my vocabulary.

Suddenly I hear an abundance of 'ooooooohs' and 'woooooahs' from the crowd, and then a whistle. I pick my head up to see Kevin doing his power walk down the court towards the bench. Then he runs and jumps to meet Draymond in the air, then Steph, and the rest of the Warriors slapped his chest or rubbed his head as they sat down during the timeout.

The instant replay comes in, and after crossing the guy up, he had apparently launched the ball up from pretty much half court, nothing but net.

The screen zoned out of instant replay and zoomed in on him, all sweaty and tired, even though he didn't look tired. He sat on the bench drinking the water, listening intently in the huddle.

That could have been us. This could have been us.

But no. He wants to leave my _ss in the dust for better.

I massage my forehead, trying to calm my _amn nerves down. Trying to take, keep rather, a neutral mindset to this.

What did I do that made him leave? Was I too much for him to handle? Was I too agressive and feisty for him to be around? Did I not give him all the love he wanted in our relationship?

We had everything going for us. After games, whether we won or lost, we went to each other's houses and just enjoyed ourselves. If he needed cheering up, I was there to do him. I loved the way he instantly felt at calm with me, I mean I would try not to be rough with him, but he liked it either way. He would moan my name lovingly and accept me graciously either way, no matter what I did, and he did the same for me.

The way we kissed, felt like, achieving nirvana. It was, not peaceful, but kinda agressive and peaceful all at once, him bringing the peace, me bringing the aggressiveness, of course. It's like we were fire and water; we sort of balanced each other out.

I needed that in my life because I really cannot control my anger at times. I just need to let it out on someone or something, and I'm already chippy and quick to jump to conclusions as is.

He was my anchor, my everything. And he left me. And he didn't tell me, probably didn't stop to even think to consider telling me. He texted me......

I was mad as f_cking h_ll. Of all people, he couldn't have told me, man to man, but over a text. I don't see the _amn _ss logic in that.

I'm trying to be angry, but I mean, I couldn't blame him. Nah f_ck dat. Yes I could. I had every right to.

I give half my attention and an eighth of my patience to the rest of the game. The Warriors won.

Whoopdedoo.

The cameras film Kevin high-fiving the Spurs, and then his teammates, and then him doing the on-court interview. He gets asked how it'll be to play in the Finals with the Warriors. I listen to every word he says. Then he walks down the tunnel to the locker room.

I turn off the TV, not feeling in the mood to watch the highlights of the night. I throw the remote over on the other recliner, Kevin's recliner, which I don't ever sit on, and get myself ready for bed.

Now that he's headed to face the Cavs in the Finals, I wonder if I want him to win, or if I want him to lose.

I want the Warriors to win, you know, rep the Wild West and all that sh*t, but then I want them lose so he can realize the mistake he made and hopefully come back to OKC, and we could finally work out our kinks. Kiss and make up, or hug and make out, or whatever.

I want him to get his ring, but I just want him to get his first with me, like we planned.

I don't know how to feel.

Kevin

I don't know what to feel. I feel nothing at all. Except remorse. That's all I feel. I'm going into the Finals without him. Russ.

I f_cked everything up, like I always have my whole life it feels. I should have stayed. I know I meant a lot to him, and he meant a lot to me, but I was selfish and too blind to see that he needed me, that he wanted me. I was too blind to see that he was all I needed.

He just wanted to reach the peak of his career with me there to be his biggest supporter. He wanted to do everything with me, all of this with me.

But it's too late to turn back now.

Russ. I'm sorry. I'll do all this for you. Everything I do, in these Finals, will be for you and you only.

That's how I feel. And that is how it will be.

A/N: I had to get this published before the weekend because surprise surprise the Finals start Thursday today.

Yes I've already gone off schedule, but give me some slack here. I'm only 4 and a half hours late. Make that 9 hours since I had some grammar issues ugh.

Getcha selves some popcorn for next time and be intrigued!