fic fragments
Mar. 3rd, 2024 05:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kdsburneraccountSnippets that I have from here and there. Some of these are a couple years old.
NFL
James walked out of the room with the looming sense of dread one does when faced with life-threatening news.
He had expected there to be a diagnosis about his knee, how he wouldn't be able to play for the rest of the season.
He didn't expect to be told he had cancer.
So James did what any self-respecting Pitt student would do in that situation: he went to the nationality rooms and had a breakdown.
It all made a horrifying amount of sense: how easily his body broke down within a couple of games, the way he would feel more winded than usual after practices.
Still, cancer. James figured he was young and healthy, not exactly the type to get cancer so soon.
Maybe his body was weak.
James heard a clearing of the throat and turned around.
"Oh hey... am I interrupting something?"
Ah. Tyler Boyd. Teammate, friend, the guy who wore the 23 to his 24.
"Uh. Not really."
"Cool." Boyd sat next to him. "So what're you doing in the nationality rooms?"
Maybe if James were more open about his mental health he would've been more upfront about it.
"You okay?"
"I have cancer."
Silence. Maybe if a book were dropped it would've been heard.
"You what?"
"I dunno." It was weird, saying that out loud. That he was ill with something that would probably kill him. He wasn't particularly sickly, so all James could wonder was, why, God?
Sometimes Russ wished he was a little bit taller.
And maybe more of a baller, not that he listened to Skee-Lo all that much.
But getting drafted by Seattle would be a chance to prove people wrong. That he could make it as a quarterback in the league, despite his short stature.
When training camp rolled around, Russ was ready to do just that.
“You look pretty good out there,” Coach remarked. “You’ll be the starter Week 1.”
“Thank you, Coach,” Russ replied. “I won’t let you guys down.”
“You want anything?”
“I could go for Sex on the Beach,” Stefon replied slyly.
Josh gave him a stare, and Stefon could’ve sworn he saw his ears go pink, just for a moment. It was cute, Stefon had to admit. “Uh-“
“I mean the drink,” Stefon said, flashing a coy smile. Maybe batting his eyes a little bit for added effect. Leaning a little closer. “Unless-“
“There you are.” Trevon had suddenly appeared at the drinks stand. Curses. Cockblocked by his own brother. “What are you doing?”
“Getting a drink,” Stefon retorted. “It’s hot.”
His brother looked skeptical at that. “Right. A drink.”
“Here’s your Sex on the Beach,” Josh cut in awkwardly, sliding the drink over to him. Trevon stared at Stefon with blatant disapproval.
“You’re kidding me, right,” Trevon said when they were out of earshot. “Sex on the beach? Really? Are you even trying to hide that you want to get into his pants?”
“Hey, sometimes, a drink is just a drink, even if the name is weird,” Stefon replied with a sip of the drink. “But to your point…”
He sighed, stirring the drink with a straw, watching the reds and oranges swirl in the glass.
Trevon rolled his eyes. “Of course you would.”
“It’s not that deep,” Stefon said. “I just think he’s cute.”
Unfortunately, Josh was just Stefon’s type: tall, broad-shouldered, and endearing in a refreshingly honest way.
Joe saw the name on his wrist when he was 13 years old.
Jessie.
It’s probably a girl, he thought, putting on a wristband to hide the name. It was considered indecent to have the name of a soulmate exposed to the public.
That’s not too bad.
-.-
Two months later, Jessie Bates had a name appear on his wrist.
Joe.
So my soulmate is a guy, he thought.
He quickly resolved to put a bandage on that. Not many people would be too happy about it. He could keep it a secret.
Jessie did his best to not think about the mystery soulmate named Joe. It was high school, and even if gay marriage was legalized (gonna need to fact check this), people were still going to be really judgmental.
… Joe never thought he would be into guys.
But he sort of was, which was the odd part.
“It’s just business,” he had said afterwards.
Goff wasn’t exactly sure how breaking up with his long-time boyfriend and coach was “just business,” but slowly nodded and pasted on a smile.
Despite the writing being on the wall, Goff had a small feeling that he would still be on the Rams.
But then he had gotten a phone call and everything had changed.
-.-
Jared remembered coming off of a dreadful rookie season, one that had made him question if he really was enough.
But then McVay had come in, all manic energy and smiles, and made him believe that he was deserving of being the starting QB.
Calvin felt like an outsider in his own locker room.
It wasn’t really *his* locker room, though. Not when he had sat out half of a season to deal with mental health issues and then had gotten suspended when gambling during that time.
He didn’t have a gambling problem. Just throwing away some money to feel something in that pit of despair that was his mind.
And then he ended up losing more than a couple thousand dollars.
The team regarded him politely enough. Calvin knew they wanted to trade him before the gambling news had come out. But now they couldn’t exactly do that.
Things were fine. He would put his head down and see how it all played out.
There were a lot of new players from the past season. Ridder, London, who had had a pretty good season. He’d have to get sort of familiar with them.
“Hey,” a guy taller than him said. “You’re Ridley?”
“Yeah,” Calvin replied. He assumed this was Drake London, that wide receiver the Falcons had drafted last season. By all accounts, he’d had a pretty good rookie year, though Calvin hadn’t watched nearly as much football as he would’ve liked during the suspension.
He was also probably going to replace Calvin.
“Nice to meet you,” Drake continued, unaware of the thoughts rumbling around in Calvin’s head. He seemed unfairly tall, all lanky limbs that hadn’t quite grown into the league. It wasn’t like Calvin was short for a receiver, but he didn’t like having to flick his eyes upward just to make eye contact with someone.
“You too… how old are you?”
“22.” There was a flash of teeth at that, endearingly imperfect. Calvin felt a strange pang at that, the sudden reminder of youth he was contending with. He had the strange urge to pinch his cheek, to chirp at the second-year player a little.
But then he was reminded of how much older he was, so much closer to the end of most players’ careers.
…
Calvin didn’t realize he wanted to fuck Drake London until later.
Julio would probably laugh at Calvin if he ever told him that though. But then again, Julio was the one in love with Matt Ryan, so he wasn’t one to judge for taste.
Still, feeling… desire for someone with so much more of their career ahead of them. It ate at Calvin, that he couldn’t be good enough, or even young enough to not feel like some creep for feeling that way.
He took another gulp of the beer. They won against the Saints. Might as well get wasted and do something dumb.
A couple feet away Calvin made eye contact with Drake, and there was something there.
Julio knew it was wrong. Wrong to love another man, especially when the man in question was his own teammate.
And yet.
If he could change, he would. Julio wasn’t sure what he would give up to stop being in love. Would it be cowardice to keep letting those feelings hurt him?
“I’m in love with a man.”
Something shifted with those few words, the weight in his chest lightening ever so slightly.
His mother looked at him with a profound sorrow in her eyes. All Julio could feel then was her embracing him, no other words that passed between mother and son.
…
“I’ll pray for you.”
Julio wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“You need it,” they replied to his silence.
He looked up, eyes flicking in that direction. “I can’t ever make him love me.”
“Exactly.”
“I still hope, though.”
“Isn’t that kind of useless?”
Julio remained silent again. “We’re only human.”
NBA
Kyle found out he was getting traded through social media, as per usual.
It wasn’t like he had been super surprised by the news. People talked, and as someone who was online more than most players, he saw the rumors.
Still, people could’ve been more original with all the Shanghai Sharks jokes. He wasn’t that bad at basketball.
Kyle opened the tweet from Woj and read it more in detail: he was going to the Washington Wizards with KCP and Trez in exchange for Russell Westbrook, as long as a smattering of draft picks.
Washington. It was a team. At least he hadn’t been traded to Orlando, that would’ve been awkward. And the Wizards had made the playoffs last season. Though aside from Beal he didn’t really know any other good players on the team. So Kyle figured he would probably get playing time.
…
Washington is kind of a nice place.
Beal is chill, as is Spence, and he already knows KCP and Trez from the Lakers. It all seems like a group of dudes determined to win a bunch of games.
And the younger players are alright. Gafford’s also cool about the trade and offers to show him around, and Corey is a rookie but pretty calm. Kyle hasn’t seen Rui yet but figures he’s like that, all calm and shit.
And then there was Deni.
He was quiet.
Kyle remembered being at practice and seeing him work on his shooting.
“Hey,” he said, which made the second-year player turn around with a start.
“Oh, hi,” Deni replied a little quietly. His eyes were a little wide with what seemed to be surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Practicing,” Kyle stated, because that was obvious.
“Oh. Yeah. You wanna practice shooting together?”
“Sure.” And that was how it went in the gym in silence.
Kyle figured the kid was kind of cute, all sharp features and soft hair. He seemed sort of innocent, with expressive dark eyes and a slight accent to his words.
MLB
Adam had always thought Yadi was special.
Maybe it was the way he smiled after a game, or the way he always seemed determined to win.
Regardless, he had shone like a star.
Adam knew that he was an omega, but the reality of it never quite set in until he found himself sitting face to face with the catcher.
“We’ve decided to have you two mate, since the rules of the MLB say that Molina can’t play this season unless he has a mate.”
“Oh.” Adam chanced a glance at the catcher, who was looking straight at him with an unreadable expression.
That would mean they would be… mates. And, well, Adam had always wanted to be with someone.
It hurt to think about Zack.
Clayton was all too aware of how much he had messed up what happened between them. The season had become stressful, and then he ended up not talking to Zack as much.
And then Zack had said he wouldn’t be accepting the option on his contract and becoming a free agent, so that seemed to create a painful sense of finality.
Even then, Kershaw missed him. Missed the rare smiles he would have when they were together, his unfailing honesty. Things just weren’t really the same.
The season went on as they were on different teams. Zack had ended up on the Diamondbacks, before mysteriously disappearing for a few months. But now he was back, and their two teams would play against each other.
Kershaw made his mind to visit Zack and check up on him.
It wasn’t too difficult to find Zack’s house. Kershaw knocked on the door and was soon greeted with Zack’s hard stare.
“Hi,” Kershaw said calmly, trying not to sound incredibly awkward. Zack immediately tensed up, his pale blue wings raising in panic and his jaw clenched.
He seemed a bit worse for wear, a little more tired than he had seemed before and with his wings still mussed from the game. But it was still undeniably him.
“… can I come in?” Clayton added with a tilt of the head. He tried to look inside the house, to see how Zack was living, but Zack’s wings were blocking the way.
“Why are you here?”
Kershaw’s brow furrowed. “I wanted to come and see you. We . . . I didn’t really end things properly back in Los Angeles.”
And that was the truth. Kershaw wasn’t really sure what else to say to make Zack willing to let him in.
“You made things loud and clear. Okay? You can go now.”
Look, that’s not what I want, Kershaw thought as he stuck his foot in the door. Zack seemed to be more reclusive than usual, and he briefly wondered if Zack had gotten the wrong idea of what had happened between them.
The two of them had gotten into a kind of stalemate over the door, but Clayton was the stronger person and was winning.
“Zack—for the love of God—I just want to talk—”
“Like I said, you made yourself clear! You can go—”
“Jesus Christ!” Clayton said when he managed to fling the door open. Zack ended up sprawled on the ground, his feathers flying around. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?? What’s wrong with you?” Zack got up, firmly dusting himself off and glaring at Kershaw. “Bursting into my house.”
Kershaw flushed at that, realizing Zack had a point. It was a little creepy and came across like a stalker ex. He rubbed the back of his head. “Look, I just wanted to talk, see how you were doing. I . . . I know I was kind of an asshole to you before you left, but I didn’t mean it, Zack. I was . . .” He pursed his mouth. “It doesn’t make it any better, but towards the end, I was just frustrated by a lot of things. You know? It wasn’t—fuck, it was never about you. I was never mad at you.”
Zack was still glaring. “Funny way of showing it.”
“I know,” Clayton pinched the bridge of his nose, “And I know I should’ve come sooner, but I couldn’t. You asked to be let out of your contract, signed here, and I was so angry. You just left and didn’t even say goodbye. I just—I thought it meant you didn’t want me anymore.”
“I left because you made it very clear you wanted me gone,” Zack said as he flapped his wings. “You stopped talking to me. It was never about what I wanted.”
Which- shit, it was true, honestly. It had all been a vicious cycle where Clayton had stopped trying to find Zack, and then Zack had gotten it into his head that Clayton didn’t have feelings for him anymore and decided to leave. Or something like that.
“I know! I just—it took me a while, but then I figured it out. You know? And I’m sorry. I was so God damn horrible. I just—”
Clayton cut off at that, unsure of what to say to justify all of what he did.
“You’re right. You were pretty bad to me,” Zack said finally, “And I moved here because of it. I know you regret it. But you can’t barge in here. Not now.”
Clayton decided to move closer to Zack, to gently place a hand on his cheek. He could feel Zack tensing at the touch, his wings closing in on himself. And that… that stung.
“I still love you, Zack,” Clayton began after a deep sigh. “I know what I did was wrong, terrible, and I’m so fucking sorry. But I love you so God damn much, I can’t stand not having you on the team anymore. I know I should’ve come earlier. I know that. I was going to talk to you after the season started, but then they put you on the DL, and I couldn’t just do it over the phone. I needed this to be in person. Because I knew you’d try to run and hide.”
Clayton could feel Zack swallow at that, could see how his eyes flicked from side to side. But he could also feel the way Zack flinched as their wings touched.
Which hurt. How hesitant he was to accept his feelings and just lean into the touch.
NFL
James walked out of the room with the looming sense of dread one does when faced with life-threatening news.
He had expected there to be a diagnosis about his knee, how he wouldn't be able to play for the rest of the season.
He didn't expect to be told he had cancer.
So James did what any self-respecting Pitt student would do in that situation: he went to the nationality rooms and had a breakdown.
It all made a horrifying amount of sense: how easily his body broke down within a couple of games, the way he would feel more winded than usual after practices.
Still, cancer. James figured he was young and healthy, not exactly the type to get cancer so soon.
Maybe his body was weak.
James heard a clearing of the throat and turned around.
"Oh hey... am I interrupting something?"
Ah. Tyler Boyd. Teammate, friend, the guy who wore the 23 to his 24.
"Uh. Not really."
"Cool." Boyd sat next to him. "So what're you doing in the nationality rooms?"
Maybe if James were more open about his mental health he would've been more upfront about it.
"You okay?"
"I have cancer."
Silence. Maybe if a book were dropped it would've been heard.
"You what?"
"I dunno." It was weird, saying that out loud. That he was ill with something that would probably kill him. He wasn't particularly sickly, so all James could wonder was, why, God?
Sometimes Russ wished he was a little bit taller.
And maybe more of a baller, not that he listened to Skee-Lo all that much.
But getting drafted by Seattle would be a chance to prove people wrong. That he could make it as a quarterback in the league, despite his short stature.
When training camp rolled around, Russ was ready to do just that.
“You look pretty good out there,” Coach remarked. “You’ll be the starter Week 1.”
“Thank you, Coach,” Russ replied. “I won’t let you guys down.”
“You want anything?”
“I could go for Sex on the Beach,” Stefon replied slyly.
Josh gave him a stare, and Stefon could’ve sworn he saw his ears go pink, just for a moment. It was cute, Stefon had to admit. “Uh-“
“I mean the drink,” Stefon said, flashing a coy smile. Maybe batting his eyes a little bit for added effect. Leaning a little closer. “Unless-“
“There you are.” Trevon had suddenly appeared at the drinks stand. Curses. Cockblocked by his own brother. “What are you doing?”
“Getting a drink,” Stefon retorted. “It’s hot.”
His brother looked skeptical at that. “Right. A drink.”
“Here’s your Sex on the Beach,” Josh cut in awkwardly, sliding the drink over to him. Trevon stared at Stefon with blatant disapproval.
“You’re kidding me, right,” Trevon said when they were out of earshot. “Sex on the beach? Really? Are you even trying to hide that you want to get into his pants?”
“Hey, sometimes, a drink is just a drink, even if the name is weird,” Stefon replied with a sip of the drink. “But to your point…”
He sighed, stirring the drink with a straw, watching the reds and oranges swirl in the glass.
Trevon rolled his eyes. “Of course you would.”
“It’s not that deep,” Stefon said. “I just think he’s cute.”
Unfortunately, Josh was just Stefon’s type: tall, broad-shouldered, and endearing in a refreshingly honest way.
Joe saw the name on his wrist when he was 13 years old.
Jessie.
It’s probably a girl, he thought, putting on a wristband to hide the name. It was considered indecent to have the name of a soulmate exposed to the public.
That’s not too bad.
-.-
Two months later, Jessie Bates had a name appear on his wrist.
Joe.
So my soulmate is a guy, he thought.
He quickly resolved to put a bandage on that. Not many people would be too happy about it. He could keep it a secret.
Jessie did his best to not think about the mystery soulmate named Joe. It was high school, and even if gay marriage was legalized (gonna need to fact check this), people were still going to be really judgmental.
… Joe never thought he would be into guys.
But he sort of was, which was the odd part.
“It’s just business,” he had said afterwards.
Goff wasn’t exactly sure how breaking up with his long-time boyfriend and coach was “just business,” but slowly nodded and pasted on a smile.
Despite the writing being on the wall, Goff had a small feeling that he would still be on the Rams.
But then he had gotten a phone call and everything had changed.
-.-
Jared remembered coming off of a dreadful rookie season, one that had made him question if he really was enough.
But then McVay had come in, all manic energy and smiles, and made him believe that he was deserving of being the starting QB.
Calvin felt like an outsider in his own locker room.
It wasn’t really *his* locker room, though. Not when he had sat out half of a season to deal with mental health issues and then had gotten suspended when gambling during that time.
He didn’t have a gambling problem. Just throwing away some money to feel something in that pit of despair that was his mind.
And then he ended up losing more than a couple thousand dollars.
The team regarded him politely enough. Calvin knew they wanted to trade him before the gambling news had come out. But now they couldn’t exactly do that.
Things were fine. He would put his head down and see how it all played out.
There were a lot of new players from the past season. Ridder, London, who had had a pretty good season. He’d have to get sort of familiar with them.
“Hey,” a guy taller than him said. “You’re Ridley?”
“Yeah,” Calvin replied. He assumed this was Drake London, that wide receiver the Falcons had drafted last season. By all accounts, he’d had a pretty good rookie year, though Calvin hadn’t watched nearly as much football as he would’ve liked during the suspension.
He was also probably going to replace Calvin.
“Nice to meet you,” Drake continued, unaware of the thoughts rumbling around in Calvin’s head. He seemed unfairly tall, all lanky limbs that hadn’t quite grown into the league. It wasn’t like Calvin was short for a receiver, but he didn’t like having to flick his eyes upward just to make eye contact with someone.
“You too… how old are you?”
“22.” There was a flash of teeth at that, endearingly imperfect. Calvin felt a strange pang at that, the sudden reminder of youth he was contending with. He had the strange urge to pinch his cheek, to chirp at the second-year player a little.
But then he was reminded of how much older he was, so much closer to the end of most players’ careers.
…
Calvin didn’t realize he wanted to fuck Drake London until later.
Julio would probably laugh at Calvin if he ever told him that though. But then again, Julio was the one in love with Matt Ryan, so he wasn’t one to judge for taste.
Still, feeling… desire for someone with so much more of their career ahead of them. It ate at Calvin, that he couldn’t be good enough, or even young enough to not feel like some creep for feeling that way.
He took another gulp of the beer. They won against the Saints. Might as well get wasted and do something dumb.
A couple feet away Calvin made eye contact with Drake, and there was something there.
Julio knew it was wrong. Wrong to love another man, especially when the man in question was his own teammate.
And yet.
If he could change, he would. Julio wasn’t sure what he would give up to stop being in love. Would it be cowardice to keep letting those feelings hurt him?
“I’m in love with a man.”
Something shifted with those few words, the weight in his chest lightening ever so slightly.
His mother looked at him with a profound sorrow in her eyes. All Julio could feel then was her embracing him, no other words that passed between mother and son.
…
“I’ll pray for you.”
Julio wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“You need it,” they replied to his silence.
He looked up, eyes flicking in that direction. “I can’t ever make him love me.”
“Exactly.”
“I still hope, though.”
“Isn’t that kind of useless?”
Julio remained silent again. “We’re only human.”
NBA
Kyle found out he was getting traded through social media, as per usual.
It wasn’t like he had been super surprised by the news. People talked, and as someone who was online more than most players, he saw the rumors.
Still, people could’ve been more original with all the Shanghai Sharks jokes. He wasn’t that bad at basketball.
Kyle opened the tweet from Woj and read it more in detail: he was going to the Washington Wizards with KCP and Trez in exchange for Russell Westbrook, as long as a smattering of draft picks.
Washington. It was a team. At least he hadn’t been traded to Orlando, that would’ve been awkward. And the Wizards had made the playoffs last season. Though aside from Beal he didn’t really know any other good players on the team. So Kyle figured he would probably get playing time.
…
Washington is kind of a nice place.
Beal is chill, as is Spence, and he already knows KCP and Trez from the Lakers. It all seems like a group of dudes determined to win a bunch of games.
And the younger players are alright. Gafford’s also cool about the trade and offers to show him around, and Corey is a rookie but pretty calm. Kyle hasn’t seen Rui yet but figures he’s like that, all calm and shit.
And then there was Deni.
He was quiet.
Kyle remembered being at practice and seeing him work on his shooting.
“Hey,” he said, which made the second-year player turn around with a start.
“Oh, hi,” Deni replied a little quietly. His eyes were a little wide with what seemed to be surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Practicing,” Kyle stated, because that was obvious.
“Oh. Yeah. You wanna practice shooting together?”
“Sure.” And that was how it went in the gym in silence.
Kyle figured the kid was kind of cute, all sharp features and soft hair. He seemed sort of innocent, with expressive dark eyes and a slight accent to his words.
MLB
Adam had always thought Yadi was special.
Maybe it was the way he smiled after a game, or the way he always seemed determined to win.
Regardless, he had shone like a star.
Adam knew that he was an omega, but the reality of it never quite set in until he found himself sitting face to face with the catcher.
“We’ve decided to have you two mate, since the rules of the MLB say that Molina can’t play this season unless he has a mate.”
“Oh.” Adam chanced a glance at the catcher, who was looking straight at him with an unreadable expression.
That would mean they would be… mates. And, well, Adam had always wanted to be with someone.
It hurt to think about Zack.
Clayton was all too aware of how much he had messed up what happened between them. The season had become stressful, and then he ended up not talking to Zack as much.
And then Zack had said he wouldn’t be accepting the option on his contract and becoming a free agent, so that seemed to create a painful sense of finality.
Even then, Kershaw missed him. Missed the rare smiles he would have when they were together, his unfailing honesty. Things just weren’t really the same.
The season went on as they were on different teams. Zack had ended up on the Diamondbacks, before mysteriously disappearing for a few months. But now he was back, and their two teams would play against each other.
Kershaw made his mind to visit Zack and check up on him.
It wasn’t too difficult to find Zack’s house. Kershaw knocked on the door and was soon greeted with Zack’s hard stare.
“Hi,” Kershaw said calmly, trying not to sound incredibly awkward. Zack immediately tensed up, his pale blue wings raising in panic and his jaw clenched.
He seemed a bit worse for wear, a little more tired than he had seemed before and with his wings still mussed from the game. But it was still undeniably him.
“… can I come in?” Clayton added with a tilt of the head. He tried to look inside the house, to see how Zack was living, but Zack’s wings were blocking the way.
“Why are you here?”
Kershaw’s brow furrowed. “I wanted to come and see you. We . . . I didn’t really end things properly back in Los Angeles.”
And that was the truth. Kershaw wasn’t really sure what else to say to make Zack willing to let him in.
“You made things loud and clear. Okay? You can go now.”
Look, that’s not what I want, Kershaw thought as he stuck his foot in the door. Zack seemed to be more reclusive than usual, and he briefly wondered if Zack had gotten the wrong idea of what had happened between them.
The two of them had gotten into a kind of stalemate over the door, but Clayton was the stronger person and was winning.
“Zack—for the love of God—I just want to talk—”
“Like I said, you made yourself clear! You can go—”
“Jesus Christ!” Clayton said when he managed to fling the door open. Zack ended up sprawled on the ground, his feathers flying around. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?? What’s wrong with you?” Zack got up, firmly dusting himself off and glaring at Kershaw. “Bursting into my house.”
Kershaw flushed at that, realizing Zack had a point. It was a little creepy and came across like a stalker ex. He rubbed the back of his head. “Look, I just wanted to talk, see how you were doing. I . . . I know I was kind of an asshole to you before you left, but I didn’t mean it, Zack. I was . . .” He pursed his mouth. “It doesn’t make it any better, but towards the end, I was just frustrated by a lot of things. You know? It wasn’t—fuck, it was never about you. I was never mad at you.”
Zack was still glaring. “Funny way of showing it.”
“I know,” Clayton pinched the bridge of his nose, “And I know I should’ve come sooner, but I couldn’t. You asked to be let out of your contract, signed here, and I was so angry. You just left and didn’t even say goodbye. I just—I thought it meant you didn’t want me anymore.”
“I left because you made it very clear you wanted me gone,” Zack said as he flapped his wings. “You stopped talking to me. It was never about what I wanted.”
Which- shit, it was true, honestly. It had all been a vicious cycle where Clayton had stopped trying to find Zack, and then Zack had gotten it into his head that Clayton didn’t have feelings for him anymore and decided to leave. Or something like that.
“I know! I just—it took me a while, but then I figured it out. You know? And I’m sorry. I was so God damn horrible. I just—”
Clayton cut off at that, unsure of what to say to justify all of what he did.
“You’re right. You were pretty bad to me,” Zack said finally, “And I moved here because of it. I know you regret it. But you can’t barge in here. Not now.”
Clayton decided to move closer to Zack, to gently place a hand on his cheek. He could feel Zack tensing at the touch, his wings closing in on himself. And that… that stung.
“I still love you, Zack,” Clayton began after a deep sigh. “I know what I did was wrong, terrible, and I’m so fucking sorry. But I love you so God damn much, I can’t stand not having you on the team anymore. I know I should’ve come earlier. I know that. I was going to talk to you after the season started, but then they put you on the DL, and I couldn’t just do it over the phone. I needed this to be in person. Because I knew you’d try to run and hide.”
Clayton could feel Zack swallow at that, could see how his eyes flicked from side to side. But he could also feel the way Zack flinched as their wings touched.
Which hurt. How hesitant he was to accept his feelings and just lean into the touch.
