When Best Friends Bet on Sports

"Please don't make me do this." I begged my best friend. We met in our first year of college. I was a loud-mouthed Browns fan and he was a loud-mouthed Steelers fan. We supported rival teams in the great NFL AFC North. We were both pretty much 'bros' and people never let us forget we basically looked the same, just like brothers, even though there was no familial relation. The fact that we had the same personality, were physically the same, and best friends, but mortal football enemies made all the Sundays between September and January very high stakes.

We had been doing the same tradition for 4 years. Seniors in college now, we always worked out the morning of game day, ordered food, and watched the game at Nick's apartment - just the two of us. No one else could stand to watch football with us. We were complete assholes. Any teams playing against our teams were subject to onslaughts of profanity, every referee was a dumb shit, and we never stood still. High fives, jumping up and down, slapping the floor, any other outburst was just the norm. We had lots of other friends but they all steered clear on football Sunday.

We both had black hair, olive skin, green eyes, and we stood an identical 6'0 with fairly-toned bodies. We did everything together, and while I didn't have a very good relationship with my family, Nick did. His family was one of those that took their heritage very seriously. They only discussed the importance of being Italian. His last name was Garfazzo and his parents' house was basically an homage to the Vatican. This made me think I was probably Italian too since we were basically identical, but my parents never made such claims and our surname was some mutt name that didn't really track back to anything super clear.

My parents were mostly estranged from their families. They were hippies in the 60s and did a lot of drugs and from the few stories I learned from them or the few times I was around my dad's sister - my parents just didn't fit in with the family because of their views and drug usage. I liked my parents fine, I think they liked me fine, but like I said, we were never close. When I left for college, we knew then we would not be seeing each other much ever again. I think this was just another piece of what made Nick and I so close. I went home with him all the time. Every holiday I was at his house, I went home with him to do laundry our first year. I think the fact we looked just like each other made his parents think I was also Italian which put me in their good graces immediately.

Nick and I got into so many hijinks during our college years. We both cared about class, so we'd study together. We partied together. We always worked out together. Shared our thoughts, dreams, intimate details about our lives. Never shared girls though. Best friends did not really describe us - we were definitely closer - we were as close to each other as any two dudes can be. Because of one stupid bet, we were getting ready to cross a line we had never approached, never even thought of approaching, and of course it was going to change everything.

The Browns and Steelers are in the same division and therefore they are rivals and must play each other twice every year. The 3rd week was the first match between our two teams and we were ready for the game to begin. "I bet you anything the Steelers kick the shit out of the Browns today." Nick started in immediately.

"Not a chance, my man. This is our best year ever and you're in for a very bad year." I believed it, but the fact is you never know what can happen in a division game.

"Tell you what, bestie, I don't want to take anything from you personally. I want to take something from the Browns. You are their number one fan, right." He asked.

"Of course. I bleed Brown." I replied.

"I'll even make it hard to win the bet - so, let's see. How about, if the Steelers score a touchdown in every quarter AND the Browns only score field goals. Obviously, the Steelers win, I don't see the Browns getting 10 field goals."

"Hmm, that is specific and really good odds. So, you are saying that if the Browns score even one touchdown or the Steelers go even one quarter without a touchdown, then you'll lose the bet even if you win the game?" Clarifying the bet.

"Yep. I think that is fair - definitely a much heavier burden on my Steelers than your Browns. But that is why I think if it does happen, you have to betray the Browns. Humiliate the Browns and their fans vicariously." Nick said with such an evil grin.

"What humiliation?" I asked.

"Well, this is week 3, the second match up of the season is week 12. You won't have to do anything until then. But, if I win the bet, you will have to pay up during that game. I am thinking I will wear my Steelers stuff, but more importantly you will wear all your Browns gear, face make-up too and you will spend the whole game serving me. You know, kneeling before me to ask me if you can get me another beer. Be my footrest when I need one. Because the Browns mascot is a dog, I imagine you'll spend most of it on all fours. The main kicker is I will need some pics of this. I need to make the Browns number 1 fan, humiliate them on behalf of the Steelers." He spelled out the worst possible situation. Something unthinkable.

"Never. I would never give any Steelers fan the satisfaction - not even you." I considered this a closed matter.

"Well, you are kind of doing it by not taking the bet." He replied with the sly grin. "I mean, you are basically saying that the Browns are so pathetic that they can't score 1 touchdown against the Steelers and they will let the Steelers score a touchdown every quarter. Yeah, that makes it sound like you are already admitting you are embarrassed to be a Browns fan and believe the Steelers are extremely superior."

He did have a point. It wasn't like he was just saying the Steelers would win the game. He made some very specific requirements and it would be truly pathetic if the Browns couldn't score at least once or stop the Steelers for at least one quarter. "You're on. I'll take the bet."

Nick smiled ear-to-ear like he already knew he had won. I won't recount the worst game of my life, but this story is only going one place. Play after play, quarter after quarter, the Browns failed to score a touchdown and the Steelers moved the ball to the end zone time and time again. When the clock ran out, I was devastated. "Don't worry about it bestie, you got 9 weeks before you have to pay the piper."

"I just can't believe it." I muttered that phrase over and over again for the rest of the day. I didn't even make it back to my place that night. Nick had an apartment, but I lived on campus because it was cheaper with a scholarship I was lucky to have gotten. I passed out on Nick's couch - which was pretty common anyway. The following day I awoke and it all rushed back to me. I made a dumb bet and in 9 weeks I'll have to humiliate the Browns, my most beloved team.

I made my way to campus and texted Nick I would see him later. The next week or two was a little rough because it was still fresh on our minds. I did ask him if we could keep it between ourselves. I told him I planned to wear enough face makeup on the day of the bet it would be hard to tell it was me. If I was going to betray my team, I didn't want anyone to be able to tell it was me in any pictures.

Senior year is tough. We were both finishing up high level courses and I added a concentration to my degree that required a series of difficult courses with a high-level of specificity. Don't get me wrong, senior year requires a level of partying as well and Nick and I made sure to unwind when we needed a break. Unwinding also included spending the night with a consenting girl when lucky. Nick and I worked together at parties and clubs. We would play up that we were brothers which weirdly seemed to make us more likable to girls. With classes and parties I was generally too busy to think about the bet. Every Sunday though we would get together for football and there was clearly a tension. It was a weekly reminder that I lost a bet and was going to have to pay up in the worst imaginable way.

I woke up, Sunday week 12 of football season. I had a text from Nick, "Looking forward to our workout. See u at 9." Then a second text rolled in, "yeah and the other thing too - you know what I mean, Browns Bitch." My heart sank - I resigned myself with just getting through today and then spending the rest of my life trying to forget. Walking to the gym with my duffel, playing possible scenarios out in my mind. Maybe it won't be that bad. I mean, Nick is my best friend, what is the worst he would do to me. So, I get him some beers on my knees. Let him put his feet on my back. He might make me grovel some and say some stuff about how the Steelers are the best and the Browns are the worst. Yeah, maybe it'll be fine.

Our workout was fairly regular. Nick only made one comment that put me a little on edge. I laid on the bench and grabbed the bar, Nick stepped up to spot me on the bench press. On my back, looking up at him he seemed super close. His bulge right above my face. I am in no way homophobic, if I am being honest, I have even thought about what Nick's dick looked like, how big it was, stuff like that. We were so much alike, I wondered if it was just like mine, about just over 6 inches, very smooth, not veiny with a more of a torpedo shape than a mushroom head. Lost in thoughts about Nick's dick I finished my reps and he stepped even closer to grab the bar, his crotch literally plopped on my forehead.

"Whoa dude!" I exclaimed and sat up now clear of the bar.

"Chill." Was all he said. I took my 30 seconds and laid back down to do my second set. Sure enough, it seemed like he was much closer than normal as he stepped up to lift the bar off the rack for me. Maybe his dick was even a little excited as he was tenting his athletic shorts a little. Each rep I just stared up and I couldn't even see his face above his bulge. It was like he was literally pushing his hips forward to show off his dick to me.

"Done." I said pushing the weighted bar up. This time Nick grabbed the bar and literally dropped his dick right onto my face, fully. I felt his balls and the head of his dick drop onto my face. "What the fuck, bro?!" I spat at him while sitting up.

"I just thought I'd help ease you in." He replied.

"Ease into what?" I asked, still with a bit of a hostile tone.

"The rest of the day, Browns Bitch." He smiled, "Let's go. You got one more set, then we'll finish with cardio and head back to my place."

I eyed him for a second and decided to keep my mouth shut. I laid down, grabbed the bar and the second Nick helped me lift it off the rack he stepped up putting one foot to each side of the bench. He was basically straddling my head and my face was just fully in his crotch. I could smell his nuts. "Just get used to your place for the day." I heard Nick's voice, quietly. I just kept pushing the bar. I felt defeated already and we hadn't even really started.

"Done." I spoke into Nick's crotch. He grabbed the bar and guided me to the rack, but stayed in place. I couldn't sit up - If I did, I would just be raising my face basically into his taint. "Move asshole."

"I think you should thank me for spotting you." He said, smiling. I couldn't see his face but I could hear his ear-to-ear grin in his voice.

"Thank you." I muttered.

"That wasn't so hard." He said, stepping back. "I'll expect to be addressed as 'your highness' or 'my Steelers God' for the rest of the day though." He couldn't contain a single ounce of glee from his voice. We finished up and walked back to Nick's apartment in silence. I jumped in his shower, cleared my mind to bring myself into a calm state. It helped, I have meddled in meditation and by the time I was toweling off, I felt pretty at ease with my situation. I dressed from head to toe in Browns clothes. Branded socks, underwear, sweats, long sleeved shirt, licensed official hat and with my face paint, I wrote Browns across my face in huge outlined letters. I looked great. I stared into my own eyes in the mirror and thought, "Sorry Browns."

Nick had one hand-me-down couch and a chair. He was sitting on the couch, leaning back and manspreading to the max watching the pregame show. He had on a Steelers t-shirt, black athletic shorts that had the logo at the hem of the right leg, black Steelers crew socks, and a look of complete evil joy.

I returned his smile for a second, closed my eyes, took a very long and slow deep breath, then dropped to my knees. "Can I get you a beer, my Steelers God?" I said with no sarcasm or distaste. I lost the bet, I'd pay up with integrity.

"Ohhh, my goodness. This is amazing. I know this sucks for you, but I appreciate you being such a good sport. It is very cool of you. Yes, you may bring me a beer. And you should definitely have one for yourself." Nick said.

It was not difficult walking on my knees, but it was mildly annoying especially with a beer in each hand. I shuffled up to Nick, literally on my knees between his spread legs to hand him his beer. He took it from me, took a long drink and set it on the table beside the armrest. I turned to shuffle over and watch the game when Nick stopped me, "Whoa, I need you here. You know that I always wanted a recliner; I think you can help me with that. Just lower down from kneeling to all fours, Browns bitch."

I did as told and I got on all fours sideways in front of him. Nick set his feet on the middle of my back. My mind started to clear itself, I was going to try to meditate, but I couldn't. It was very uncomfortable. His bony heels were digging into the small of my back. It had only been a few minutes and I was already in pain. This wasn't going to work. "Can I get you another beer, my Steelers Master?" It was my best plan for a little break.

"Sure, and you should try to drink one yourself whenever you can. Might help with your situation." I agreed and shuffled to and from his fridge slowly so I could drink a whole beer in just that time. Again, I shuffled between his legs to hand him his opened beer. I had an idea, I went to all fours while facing him. "Oh, you want to face your Steelers Master while you serve him?" Nick asked.

"Your heels were hurting my back. This way the backs of your legs will lie on my shoulders and your heels won't dig into my back, sir." I explained. He just nodded and put his legs one at a time on my back. The area just above his heels rested on my shoulders and that was perfectly comfortable. One problem solved. New problem created; I was basically staring at Nick's crotch and I couldn't reach the table this way, so no beer.

A long drink and he emptied his can, "grab 2 more and a straw." Nick said and I complied. He dropped the straw in my unfinished can of beer and set it between his legs. "There you go" he said and paid me no more attention. This was a solution, but one that definitely increased my humiliation. Here I was on my hands and knees with his feet on my back and I was face first in his crotch sucking a straw. It was very clearly just mimicking blowing him.

I downed the beer, then another, and another. We're just coming to half time and I was passing buzzed, entering drunk. I hadn't gotten comfortable sucking a straw a few inches away from my best friend's crotch while he literally used me as a footstool, but I also didn't feel weird about it any more. If anything, it almost felt humorous to me.

"It's not so bad is it?" Nick asked me looking down into my face. I was looking up at him with my lips closed around the straw. I just shrugged and shook my head a bit. "I need a few things from you during half time to fulfill the bet."

"Yes, sir." I replied as Nick quickly took his feet off me and placed each foot on the floor quickly. He grabbed the empty can between his legs and stood up. This was all one quick motion which caught me off guard. I didn't react quickly enough. I tried to move back but when I lifted off my hands, I lost balance and fell face first into his crotch as he was standing. I felt Nick's dick behind those athletic shorts on my face.

"Whoa, man. You okay?" Nick asked grabbing my shoulder to help steady me. There was care in his voice and I wasn't even thinking about the bet.

"Yeah. Sorry, I think I got a bit drunker than I realized." I replied from my knees looking up at him. His dick was clearly semi hard and so close to my face. It just didn't seem to bother me much any more.

"I'm just a little buzzed. You've been such a good sport about the bet. Let me get a few more things from you and we can just finish watching the second half together. Cool." Nick said.

"You're awesome man. You're a good friend. I'll do whatever you want. It's only fair because I lost. Stupid fucking Browns. Lost before, losing again."

"I'm going to set my phone on the counter because I do want a picture of a Browns fan kissing a Steelers fan's ass." Nick said propping his phone up on the counter with the camera facing the small living room.

"Uggghh. You serious?" I whined.

"C'mon, don't bitch out now or I'll make you finish the game as my footstool." Nick laughed. He grabbed another beer from the fridge and walked back to where I was on my knees, sitting on my feet. "Here, just chug this." He said, hanging he the beer.

"Thanks, dude." I popped the top and emptied it in one go. Let out a burp, set the can on the coffee table, and just looked up at Nick.

"Ask me for permission." Nick said, looking down at me. He was so close I could smell his crotch. It was so close and again, it just didn't bother me as much as before. I guess spending over an hour staring at it and being drunk just remind the weirdness of it.

I smiled up at him. "Please sir, Steelers God, can this lowly Browns fan kiss your ass?"

The triumph on Nick's face was apparent even in my drunk state. "Nah, man - I wasn't serious. Asses aren't for kissing, they are for sitting. You can worship my feet though." Nick sat down and just immediately raised his leg and put a foot on my face.

I was a bit confused, but decided to just go with it. Kissing his foot wasn't as bad as kissing his ass. I grabbed his ankle with both hands and started placing kisses all over the sole of his foot.

"Take off my socks." Nick ordered. I pulled the sock off of each foot and went back to kissing the sole of his right foot. He pulled it away and stuck his left foot in my face. I began kissing it all over. "That's very nice, dog. Just keep worshipping my feet."

I just kinda went with it and I was trying to do a good job. Parts of his foot were really soft. The skin felt nice on my lips. I open-mouthed kissed his foot a few times, just barely brushing the tip of my tongue against his foot. It was kinda salty, it didn't smell bad considering I know he didn't shower after we worked out. I bet he showered right before. Nick was moving his foot around my face to make sure I kissed every inch of it.

"Switch. Also, I love the tongue action. Feel free to put more of that in the mix." Nick said while dropping that foot and pushing the other back into my face. I immediately began kissing it with much more tongue. "Why don't you lick my whole foot?"

I didn't even think about it. I just placed my tongue flatly on his heel and licked up to his little toe. It felt nice. I did it again. I just kept licking the length of his foot. I licked up to the tip of his big toe and he pushed it into my mouth. "Suck it." Was all he said and I closed my lips around his toe and sucked it. "That's great. Keep sucking it." I mildly enjoyed it. It felt different in my mouth and it was interesting. He pulled it out and then had me suck the other toe. It wasn't bad.

"Alright the game is coming back on. You didn't get through all the things I had planned during half time. So, to be fair, you can watch the 2nd half of the game with me because I said you could, but during commercials you have to do the other things I had planned. Deal?" Nick said.