Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Were we supposed to bleach our hair first?” Laila asked, frowning in the mirror. If they were, she absolutely was not going to do that. But it would be good to know, to modulate her expectations. The sticky and colorful hair masks were spread out in front of them,one for every color of the rainbow and some double shades just because. 

“Nah, you just need more, babe,” Cat reached over to ruffle her hair. Laila shrank away, not wanting the bright green to get on hers. 

“Do not get that sickly color on me.”

“No rainbow? Come on,” Cat wheedled, wrapping her arms around her. She rested her head on her shoulder, looking at their reflections in the mirror. Polite, Catalina also had her palms facing away from Laila so she did not get green all over her.

“I said I would do our flag,” Laila countered, “and that’s pushing it.” The pink was an ugly color and she did not think it would go well with the rest of them. But who was she to argue with Cat? It was the first time they could attend pride as an engaged couple, and have it actually mean something. The rings on their fingers weren’t just promise rings anymore. Seven years of being together and they were planning a real wedding for the winter. 

“What about gold?” Catalina’s messy hands got green, and a hint of purple, somehow, over the container as she held it up for Laila to inspect. “It’ll go with the ring.”

As always, Cat had to bury her face in Laila’s neck when she mentioned it. The piece of jewelry was so simple and yet it always reduced her to a soft mess of a person, lips pressing soft kisses into Laila’s skin. 

Laila brought her left hand up to guide Cat’s head to hers. Their lips met, the ring sliding along the bottom of her jaw as she held her steady.

“Gold it is, then.”

Chapter Text

Thunder boomed outside the stadium. It was the kind of rain California needed, except when it came like this it always spelled disaster. Cody missed the rains from back home. There, rain wasn’t such a shocking thing. Right now, they needed the cleansing power of whatever potentially acidic rain was pouring down outside.

“Cody, wait!” They heard Ananya untangling herself from Pat. They didn’t wait. A few more seconds and the two love birds would be back together and lost to the world.

As expected, the rain drenched them the moment they stepped outside. Unexpected, a hand linked with theirs and tugged back. Cody turned to see Ananya holding their hand, jacket propped up over her head with her other.

“You’re getting all wet,” Cody said, stating the obvious because there was water sliding down the side of her jaw and onto her perfect shoulders, “you should’ve stayed inside.”

“Could’ve waited,” Pat’s voice came from behind. He was carrying a massive umbrella, spread out like a dark cloud, “you don’t even have a jacket, Cody, whatcha thinking?”

“You were busy.” Again, the obvious.

“Just waiting for you,” Ananya squeezed their hand, tugging until they were both under the umbrella with Pat, “we’re going back to the dorms together, yeah?”

“I thought- you two.”

“Us three,” Patrick clarified, reaching out to tug on Cody’s wet shirt. He frowned down at it, eyes tracking the way they couldn’t help but shiver. The rain was cold, dammit. “We’ll get you bundled up. Come on,” he urged, smiling down at him. Both backliners, and yet Pat had a good five inches on them.

“Sorry I got you wet,” Cody mumbled, following the two to the car. Ananya laughed, then spun them so Cody was wedged in between the two of them.

“I’d play in the rain every day for you, Cody Winters,” she pronounced. Their name sounded religious when she said it like that. “Even get snowed on, if I had to.”

“Now that is a declaration of love,” Pat laughed from behind, bending down to press his lips against the scruff of Cody’s shaved head, “our girl hates the snow.” Cody’s mind stuttered over the word. Replayed and rewound the entire drive to the dorm, short as it was.

-

Soaked through, Cody pushed Ananya into the house. The chilly February rain had spoiled what was supposed to be a picnic with the three of them. Cody was more used to the rain than the other two, but even they had their limits. Pat’s hand was warm, if wet, on the small of their back.

“This isn’t how we wanted to do this,” Pat started, the words sending a lance of fear through Cody’s heart, “it was supposed to be romantic.”

“You are going to ruin it,” Ananya chided, reaching around Cody’s shoulder with one arm, grabbing Patrick’s jacket and tugging both of them further into the corridor. Cody wasn’t sure what she was fumbling with, only that she had her other hand linked with theirs. “Cody Winter,” she looked at them with a smile, beautiful even with the way her hair was plastered to her face, “you make every single day better.”

“And,” Patrick wrapped an arm around Cody, leaning his head on their shoulder, “there’s no way we want to have better days without you.”

“Will you,” Ananya pulled her other hand off Patrick, a small velvet bag in her hand, “accept this ring, and accept us? Together?”

“But you- you’re engaged,” Cody answered, unsure where the tumbling over their words came from, or the reason their vision was a little blurry.

“Yes,” Patrick said from behind, giving a squeeze, “and we want to engage you, too.”

“That’s not grammatically correct,” Ananya murmured, taking a set of three rings out of the bag. Cody looked down, frowning.

“The other one didn’t have you,” Patrick explained.

“And we want you in our future, too. You and me,” she smiled, sliding her old engagement ring off her hand and into the bag, “you, me, and Patrick. You and Patrick, me and Pat. All the ways, forever.”

-

Rain on a wedding day was good luck. Cody still fretted in their end of the suite, tucked off of Pat’s. Both of them were stuck on the far end of the house so Ananya could do some of the photos outside without them seeing her, or her seeing them. Cody did not have much care for superstitions but they had to admit this one had merit. If they had to see Pat in a tux, a proper one, they weren’t sure they could go through with the ceremony without mussing it up just a little.

The photographer came in to let Cody know it was their turn, the other two squirelled out of sight. Legally, this ceremony and the party meant nothing.

But love wasn’t about that.

“This storm is a good omen on your wedding,” Catalina smiled at the three from her place as the officiant, “not because of superstitions or luck but because it is a reminder. You are going through life and it might be scary, but you just need to look at your partners to know that you’ve made it through them before. With each other in hand, you can weather any storm and any disaster heading your way.”

Chapter Text

part i - The sun comes in fragments through breaks in the trees, & I feel further from home than I've ever been

It was so long since Neil Josten called anything home. Baltimore, at some point in his life, before he read the romantic blurbs on movies or struggled his way through the literature homework he had to do in another language. Home should be something warm, the stories said. A place for resting and recuperation. It was hard for him to merge those ideals, silly as they were, with the idea of the house in Baltimore and the press of an iron into his skin.

For a few weeks, he almost thought it was the house in Columbia. They kept it until graduation, Andrew buying out the other two after a Kevin-induced ad and the money that came in from it his fourth year. Neil felt more at home with the boxes packed and he and Andrew sleeping on the floor that final night than he had anywhere else the year they spent apart.

But now he was in Oregon, signed to the Cyclones and surrounded by nature on every run he dared to take outside the gates of his apartment complex. The drive was longer than it needed to be. The apartment cost more, too, but it was worth it to be so removed from the hustle of a city he didn’t want anything to do with. It made the few drives they managed together worth it when there was nothing but the open coast or woods for miles.

Three months unmoored, the competing schedules and time zones too much to manage more than video calls and obligatory texts. The required reading analysis of home never felt further away.

part ii - I spent a whole year in airports, && the floor feels like home

Kevin Day would be so proud of him, if Kevin wasn’t working on some stupid passion project on the off days from the season. A regulated sleep schedule, enforced by his long distance phone calls to Bee and Neil and Nicky along with practice. A fridge filled with healthy food, smoothies that came in a box and protein shakes that had enough caffeine to get him through the morning sessions at the gym.
He felt a little alive, there, except when he caught a glimpse of red in the mirror it wasn’t the red head he wanted to see.

Eat, sleep, exy, repeat. He finally had it down the way Kevin always wanted when they were in school.

The current season meant he spent more time in airports and hotels than anywhere else. Even when he was in his so-called home city he stayed in hotels while he could. Weekends of small rooms and smaller fridges, the final excuse to get a small pint of ice cream he could shove in the mini freezer and pretend he’d eat in more than one spooning. Mechanical motions brought the disposable spoons, wooden and short, to his mouth. He refused to think about his similarities to the cutlery.

part iii - this is our house, we make the rules

Neil turned the keys over and over in his hands. He passed them back and forth until the jingle had Andrew closing his fist around the man’s palm.

“Junkie.”

“Hater.”

It wasn’t an ‘i love you’ the way Nicky and Dan wanted them to say. It wasn’t even nice, something that made Matt flinch a little when he heard it. But it was theirs.
It was theirs, like the house they stood in.

The previous owners took everything that wasn’t bolted down. Some things that were, Andrew assuring them he would consider a kindness if they took the ugly electric stove with them. Gas was better, he insisted. Neil did not know which to use. The microwave was his preferred method, and a countertop pizza oven when he needed the house to smell like cookies and sweets without eating them. Those days were over.

They were in the same city, playing for two different teams but living in the same apartment. It looked over the river, floor to ceiling windows letting them watch the sun rise above the water.

Chapter Text

“They sure know how to stick to a theme, don’t they?” Jeremy grinned at Kevin. Xavier and Min were finally getting married (although there was hefty betting on whether they had it done as soon as the ink dried on their degrees). Professionals now, Kevin played for the same team as the happy couple. It let him fanboy over Xavier with ease, as Min reported to Jeremy amidst heavy laughing.

“It is an eyesore,” Kevin mumbled in response. While normally he would complain loud and proud, this was Xavier Morgan they were talking about. If he wanted to have burgundy and electric blue that was fine with Kevin. Unfortunately. Jeremy could see the struggle on his face and he clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Proud of your restraint, buddy.” For good measure, he ruffled his hair.

Chapter Text

Two thousand ten saw Jeremy and Jean together for New Years in what felt like the first time in forever. Neither of their teams were scheduled for the games today or tonight, making their decision to meet up in California for the games an obvious decision. They were in the box above the half court mark, the perfect place to watch everyone down below.

Giddy with the excitement of the new year ahead, they had left the shackles of propriety somewhere else. For three years, they’d been quiet and demure. There were always whispers about which Exy players were together when there were so many of them out to begin with, but both had been linked in the most ridiculous ways over the years. Jeremy’s favorite was that he was clearly dating Kevin Day, helped along by the fact that he was wearing Day’s name and number, but not the actual merch, to the games tonight. Jean preferred to represent his own team with a simple property of killer whales exy department emblazoned on the front along with the mascot. It was a grey shirt, tight on his shoulders and looser throughout the rest of it thanks to the way Jeremy liked to pull and tug on all of his clothes.

Tonight, Jeremy was half in Jean’s lap. Their arms were over each other, fingers intertwined on more than one occasion. Somehow the camera was on them when Jeremy fed Jean a cheese fry during a timeout. The people seated in front of the box turned around in shock, more than one clapping at the sight. Jean did not know if his stomach was twisting from the new displays of affection or the greasy fried food.

Seated with other professional players, and a few former coaches or coaches of the collegiate programs, it was natural for the press to come up between the games for some quick sound bites.

“Moreau! Knox! We saw you on the cameras below, care to comment on what could make a star backliner break your very public nutrition plan?”

“He is allowed to eat more than chicken and spinach,” Jeremy teased, tense beside Jean. They had decided years ago that Jean would handle the personal side of things, but the professional was all on Jeremy.

“Do you turn down food from your boyfriend’s hands?” Jean countered, forcing the same even tone he always tried to use.

“My- boyfriend? Are you?” As expected, the question flabbergasted the reporter.

“Dating? Yes, and it is about to get easier,” Jean continued on, content to bulldoze over the awkward. He reached into Jeremy’s pocket for the fresh passport, the process of getting Mathilda’s claws out of his life slow but finally over. He wiggled it, waiting for Jeremy to continue.

“You’ll hear the release soon,” Jeremy’s smile was painful to look at but Jean suffered to see the sun, “but I am transferring from the Austin Sands to Vancouver for next season!”

It was the closest they’d been since college. Seattle to Vancouver was nothing.

Chapter Text

“That was so stupid,” Jeremy fumed, making his way through the door first, “I understand colors for if you’re taken or not, but top or bottom? So reductive.”

Jean hummed, noncommittal, because he had refused to put the bracelet on after they made it past the bouncer of their third favorite gay club. He had a feeling it was now further down the list.

“And the attitudes!” Jeremy looked more offended by that than the labelling, even though he still had his bottom bracelet on. It was a lie, anyways. Jean knew that Jeremy did not care as much about positioning as he did making his partners feel good. “They really thought they could just- because I’m a bottom- they-” he was so annoyed he couldn’t even get the words out. Jean did the only thing he could, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on Jeremy’s lips. He tasted like cheap shots, also bought for him by the more aggressive tops who were trying to bring him home. No bracelet, they assumed Jean was straight and simply there as a friend.

“Sorry,” Jeremy mumbled against his lips. Simmering down, he leaned into Jean and wrapped his arms around his waist. “It’s just so archaic.”

“I know, mon amor,” Jean whispered. While he was not straight, he was a visitor to gay spaces in a way he could never quite shake. Jean had no use for noisy bars or the insistence on listening to so much Britney Spears or Kylie. He could respect what it stood for, of course, but it was never where he felt his sexuality blossom. Here, with Jer’s arms around him, or with Cat when they could cuddle and never worry about anything more, or when he and Jer could donate a portion of their salaries to a place that helped gay youth. Those were all places he could feel connection.

But Jeremy was a social creature by nature, and he loved the community for all that it offered in the bars and parades, the drag shows and the silly pride collections that never existed when he needed them. Getting offered poppers was normal for that part of the culture, even if it grated on both their nerves. The commentary about top versus bottoms was no longer contained to their spaces, either. On more than one occasion they had seen a sitcom or drama actually spend half an episode on the stereotypes. It always hurt Jeremy more than it hurt Jean. Jeremy wanted the world to be better, of course, and Jean preferred that everyone stayed the hell out of his bedroom and sex life. Stereotypes or not, he did not want to talk about it with anyone.

“You’re not a bottom, anyways,” Jean kissed the corner of his mouth, “so don’t let it weigh you down.”

“I mean,” Jeremy laughed, fingers playing over the waistband of Jean’s jeans, “pretty much.”

“What if we do something different tonight?”

Judging by the way Jeremy’s mouth opened and closed, this was not something he expected. Jean smiled, reaching behind him to slip Jeremy’s hand under the fabric and onto his ass.
“Jean-”

“I want to feel you,” he murmured, laying on his accent. It was a silly trick, but it always worked to melt Jeremy. It worked as a secret cue, too. He only ever used it when it was something he truly wanted, truly needed Jeremy to understand. “I’ve worked on my own, thinking of you. I want you.”

“Are you sure about this?” Jean noticed the way Jeremy’s breath caught, the way his eyes were wide and dark, the way he had his lower lip between his teeth. If he wasn’t sure before, the way Jeremy was so careful even when he wanted would have sent him over the edge.

“Yes,” Jean whispered, pressing his hips forward so Jeremy could feel the tent in his now tight jeans.

“How- where-“ it was so sweet to see the way Jeremy’s normal confidence and surety evaporated in the face of this new change.

“Bedroom?” There were no ghosts in their bed. The soft sheets, purple or green or blue, changing based on when they remembered to wash the extras and when they had to admit defeat and buy a new set from Jab’s nails, held nothing but the memory of them. Their home, their bed, and their life. Jean wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was clear that Jeremy’s mind was not ready for decision making. No worries. Jean wrapped his arms around him and pulled up, Jeremy’s legs locking around his waist from muscle memory alone. Also by memory, Jeremy’s lips went immediately to the side of Jean’s jaw, placing kiss after kiss. He tugged until he got Jean’s shirt up, one arm at a time so he didn’t drop his precious cargo. Jean dropped him on the bed, the striker bouncing slightly from the impact.

“That never gets old,” Jeremy smiled, breathless and flushed. His shirt was lost as soon as he got control of his arms back. Jean stripped his pants off while standing. The items- condom, lube, the stupid vibrating cock ring that came with the box that Jeremy loved to tease about.

Jean fell on top of him, Jeremy struggling to get his own pants off before Jean had both hands stretched above his head. He moaned up, body seeking friction his boyfriend refused. This also would never get old- Jean holding his hands out of the way, Jean pressing his weight onto his thigh, Jean kissing him senseless and breathless.

“I want to ride you,” Jean whispered between kisses. Jeremy didn’t know how he was supposed to stay hard and not come immediately upon hearing that.

“You want- Jean,” he whined his name, shifting his hips up and grinding as much as he could. “You’re gonna kill me if you do that.”

“Oh?” A teasing lilt.

“I’ll die happy,” Jeremy assured him, squeezing his fingers, “so dang happy.”

“I need to do the prep, I think,” Jean murmured, kissing his way down Jeremy’s jaw and neck, landing somewhere between his shoulder and clavicle. He let go of Jeremy, trusting the other to do whatever felt right in the moment. “But I need to hear you.” Just in case- a reminder that it was Jeremy with him, no one else. He didn’t think it was an issue but he didn’t want to take any chances when they were so close. “Will you-“ he sat up, kneeling over one thigh, to stretch back and pick up the offensive and purple jelly ring.

“Will I- Jean,” Jeremy whined again, nodding his head as quick as he could, “absolutely. Anything. Everything. Whatever you want, baby, I want that too.”

Stripping Jeremy was easy. Figuring out how to get the ring on proved harder until they remembered that was probably the whole point of lube. Jean couldn’t help himself- he didn’t even try to stop himself from licking a path across Jeremy’s balls and up the length of his shaft once it was in place. Jer had worn this one before, for fun, and he knew it wasn’t really tight. It was just a pleasant buzz that was going to keep him nice and vocal while Jean did his part in this task.

“You need- mmm, you need more lube,” Jeremy critiqued over the quiet hum of the toy, “you always use more than that on me.” Frowning, Jean kissed the corner of his lips before squirting out more. “And you warm it for me, Jean, you’re being so mean to yourself,” he laughed, carding his hand through the dark locks, “be nice.”

Minutes later, though it could have been hours of listening to Jeremy pant and whine beneath him, Jean, pulled Jeremy’s hand to his lips. He kissed the fingers. Careful, he pulled until his hand was over his ass.

“Check for me?” He whispered, not trusting himself after so long of preparing Jeremy. That didn’t count, because Jeremy always complained he was ready far before Jean was willing to stop eating him out.

Jeremy was careful. He slid his fingers over the dripping lube, first, checking that Jean was hard and soaked before he moved over to the cleft of his ass. Jean couldn’t help the instinctive clench, but Jeremy was beneath him and whispering nothings. He relaxed, leaning down to kiss him. His fingers were slimmer than Jean’s broken ones. A complete difference, evidenced by the way he ground back and moaned into Jeremy’s shoulder.

“More,” he gasped, realizing that it was only one finger.

“Are you sure, baby?” Jeremy was wrecked and they’d barely done anything. Jean looked down, saw how dark and wet his eyelashes were. He took pity and gently pulled the ring off, sending it off to the floor. They’d get a real one if they really wanted to go that route.

“Yes- I need you to do it, now,” he assured him with another set of kisses, their cocks grinding together.

“I won’t make it much further if you do that,” Jeremy apologized, gently running his free hand over Jean’s hips. Jean groaned but shifted upwards, straddling the narrower waist of a striker build. No friction unless he pushed down, and he could manage. For this, he could do anything.

A mistake to move so far up- this time, when Jeremy put two fingers in, he was at the perfect angle to press on his prostate. Jean’s vision went hazy, his face shoved in the crook of his neck as he tried to remember how to breathe. He continued to mouth hickies onto Jeremy as two turned to three.

“I think you’re ready,” Jeremy gasped, twitching beneath him, “or as ready as possible. I might- oh, Jean, I might come so early,” he apologized on a bitten off whine. Jean couldn’t imagine why he was so worked up.

“I love when you come, mon chou,” he breathed, licking along Jeremy’s collar bone. Coming while Jeremy was inside him was unrealistic, he felt. At the very least, he was incapable of the inhuman feat of coming untouched. “Condom?”

“That’ll help, actually,” Jeremy laughed and got himself situated. Sprawled out like this, Jean had to force himself to focus on the actual task at hand. It would be so easy to go off script and simply devour his husband, cover the skin in kisses before swallowing him whole.

Jean straddled his waist, feeling awkward above him. Normally he’d be between Jeremy’s legs, not spread out over his lower stomach. The more he thought about it, the more he’d freak himself out. Jean closed his eyes and focused on the feel of Jeremy’s fingers on his thighs.

“You can help.” It was the only warning he could give before he was reaching for Jeremy’s cock. Slick with lube, it was easy to position it at his entrance. Jeremy’s moans encouraged him, same as the way he could feel his body trembling below. Jeremy slid one hand down, helping him guide his cock into place. Jean gasped at the first press, wondering if it would ever be less of a surprise. Half of him always thought Jeremy was being dramatic for his sake, but merde- gasping was the only thing to do while he was sliding down.

“Slowly, babe, there’s no rush,” Jeremy soothed from below, “you feel so good, I won’t ever forget this, baby,” his voice went up when Jean slid down too much, clenching to stop his progress, “you’re so amazing, I love you so much.”

Babbling.

Jeremy was babbling, and Jean couldn’t help but look down at him in awe. He lost his mind whenever he was lucky enough to sink into Jeremy, but he hadn’t thought it would be the same the other way. It was him, after all. Their lips crashed together. Jean felt himself go until he was fully seated, flush against Jeremy’s stomach and unable to stop the whine he let loose.

He felt his eyelashes flutter but there was no way he could see anything right now. There was only the Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy. His hands on his hip and back, soothing him and dragging goosebumps from his nails. His hair, so soft and perfect while Jean let one of his hands play with it. The strands fell perfectly between his fingers. Jeremy’s lips, moving and surging, tongues sliding over each other. And his cock.

His cock, in Jean’s ass and he could feel it and he was clenching, he was clenching because it felt good and right, he could feel it and he couldn’t stop himself from grinding down onto it. He couldn’t help the way he shifted just a little, body seeking friction and pleasure without any help from his brain. Trapped between them, his cock ached. Any movements sent new shivers through his body, the sensations dancing up and down his spine.

“Fuck-“ he whispered into Jeremy’s mouth, lips missing each other’s from the frantic pace, “I love you.”

Chapter Text

“What is that.” Technically, it was a question. Jeremy smirked at him, still happy to show Jean new things after two months of officially dating. He knew enough not to take offense at jean’s tone.

“We never had sundaes? Dang, bad on our part.”

“There’s a Sunday every week-“ Jeremy had known it was coming and burst out laughing preemptively.

“Ice cream,” he clarified with a smile. The plastic seal on the can was hard to get a hold of. He made only a brief attempt before he brought it to his mouth. Much quicker, way more efficient. Heat rose on his cheeks when he accidentally made eye contact with Jean. Finger over the lid, he shook the can briefly.

Determined to make it through this alive, he did not think about what the motion mimicked. Not thinking about it only made it more apparent and he could feel his face hearing and burning. Jeremy had to turn away to pop the cap off. Tilting his head back, he let a pressurized burst of cream fill his mouth. He continued to think, not think, and not think about not thinking until he choked on the substance. Coughing, he covered his mouth.

Jean, who notoriously hated anything that was sweeter than a single serving of fruit, looked absolutely starved as he stared back at him.

-

Eyes closed, Jeremy could not see his own nipples. He did not need to in order to know that they were probably as red as the cherries he had fished out to eat earlier. Jean's lips had not left his body since he pushed him up on the table, pushed his shirt off over his head, and removed his shorts without any sort of warm up. Jeremy moaned, forced to keep his sticky fingers out of Jean's hair.

"Jean, baby,” Jeremy panted, rock hard in his tiny briefs that normally fit so perfectly around his hips, “you hate dessert.”

Jean hummed in response, flat of his tongue dragging a wet path through the chocolate syrup drizzled over Jeremy's chest. Who knew that in order to get him to enjoy something sugary, all he had to do was cheekily smear some on his neck? It started so innocent, Jeremy licking a smear of whipped cream off Jean’s cheek. The messy kiss turned into more, Jean starving the more time they spent in the kitchen.

–

Jeremy never understood how he ended up with his ankles so close to his ears, Jean’s hands having given them over to his own. He was lucky he had anything to hold onto at all. Jean’s tongue on his chest, licking up the sweet mess, was one thing. Jean’s tongue lapping over his asshole, fingers pulling him apart so he could go further, was quite another.

“I’m ready,” Jeremy whined, tilting his head back and inadvertently pulling his legs further open. Jean made a noise of satisfaction, fingers curling inside him. “The longer you make me wait,” and now was time for the best threat he could make, “the more time I have to come up with a dessert pun about this.”

Jean pulled back, leaning bent arms on the backs of Jeremy’s thighs.

“You wouldn’t,” he said in a simple voice, one that allowed no true argument. Those grey eyes were eclipsed by big dark pupils and soft lashes.

“Maybe not,” Jeremy admitted as his cheeks flushed, “but I'd think about it.”

Chapter Text

“And that one up there is-“ Neil stopped when the ash from Andrew’s cigarette fell onto the side of his lips. He blew it off with a puff of air, turning to look up at his face. Andrew was crossed legged on the hood of the car, staring down at Neil with a previously unreadable expression.

“Am I boring you?”

“Something like that,” Andrew pulled in another drag, letting it out as Neil watched the end flicker in the dark. He stuck his tongue out for the next bit of ash that fell. He saw the twitch of Andrew’s lips. Probably not a smile, he wasn’t known for those even now. Neil did not mind. There were better ways for them to communicate than something as fake as a smile.

Months into this, finally admitting there was indeed a this, and he did not care if Andrew never smiled again. Neil reached up for the cigarette. Andrew handed it off, eyes tracking as he slipped it between his lips.

“The ancient greeks fucked about the stars, too,” Andrew pointed out once the cigarette was in place. Neil coughed, inhaling and exhaling at the same time. Andrew took the cigarette back and let him hack about it.

It took several minutes until he was upright with his back against the windshield and a bottle of water washing the taste out of his mouth.

“Is that a-” Andrew was in front of him before finished, cigarette tossed onto the gravel off to the side. Neil’s eyes lit up before he let them close.

The taste of cigarettes was always better if it came off of Andrew’s tongue.

Chapter Text

Welcome back everybody this is exy-cited and today we are joined by two very special guests they are not known for doing a lot of podcasts so thank you so much for being here this is so exciting

™: Thank you for having us Elijah

If you couldn't tell by the sound of that voice, which you really should be able to by now, I am joined by Thea Muldani and her husband Kevin Day. What has life been like in these past few months after the summer Olympics?

KD: It's been a lot of training, as you know we're both on professional teams and working means that we have to catch up to everybody else. While we were off at the Olympic Village there were other people on our teams trying new drills and learning new strategies.

Can you share any of those fun new strategies with us?

™: Elijah you know we can't do that. I don't even tell Kevin what we're working on and we share a house.

Really? When you guys come home from practice what do you talk about?

KD: Normally our children, who we have been away from for several hours.

Is it hard to balance having children with such high demand professional careers? you've both been in the sport for quite some time, did you expect to retire before you had children or was this just a happy accident?

™: We love having our children, and we wouldn't trade it for the world. It was a surprise that I was able to have two kids while still maintaining my career, but it's not something that was an accident. There was a lot of intentional work done by our teams and our team of doctors to ensure that everything turned out well.

As former ravens, it is a surprise that you are still in the game at this age.

™: We'd rather not talk about our time in college. There's footage of any of the games that were worth seeing, and there's even footage of the games that were boring and better off left to the archives.

KD: We've spent more time on professional courts than we ever did back at Edgar allan. We have a daughter that we've spent more time with than Thea spent at college, and our son is older than how long I was in college in West Virginia.

You don't ever miss it or question how things happened? There definitely hasn't been a similar set of seasons since the two of you were in college.

™: There are excellent exy players every single year.

But there isn't quite the same training, is there? I think we saw that with the Olympics this year. One of the reasons we keep asking you about the ravens, of course, is that everything is so quiet about what went down there. I can't say the same thing for the Olympic village.

KD: We are not here to do a tell all or expose on things that happened over 10 years ago. What happened this summer was a gross breach of trust from journalists who are supposed to be reporting on sports, not forcibly outing players.

Of course, of course. it just is one of the top stories right now. There have always been rumors about gay people in sports, but it does seem that the visibility ebbs and flows.

™: There's more athletes in the lgbtqia community than most people will ever know. it's simply doesn't matter. Exy is a coed sport that is designed to combine some of the best skills from a variety of prior games. it's not about who we're dating.

You were lucky to find love in your sport. What was that like?

KD: It was hard to be long distance, even harder with two sets of schedules. It got easier after we were both on professional teams and at least had the same off time.

Was it romantic when you were on the same team? I know that several of your teammates have come out as dating.

KD: There is nothing less romantic than standing on a court and listening to the breakdown of each other's flaws and triumphs during a scrimmage. I do not play because I'm looking for love.

™: Kevin is not the first person I've dated from my or another team. Anyone who brings their relationship onto the court during actual practice or games is setting themselves up for failure.

Are you referring to the series of victory kisses seen at recent games?

KD: I'm referring to people who think that our romantic or sexual lives have any place in the middle of a sport. It is so narrow-minded to think that either are the driving force of the athletic ability we display. There are plenty of people myself and Thea included who are married and managed to play exy There are plenty of people, myself and thea included, who are parents and manage to play. and there are far more people than anyone will ever know, myself and Thea included, who are not the straight Paragons everyone thinks that we are.

----

It never got any easier to go to interviews. Thea hated having to accompany Kevin on this one, but they had it scheduled to release in May and they wanted to do it together. After the scandal of three athletes getting outed at the Olympic Village last summer, none of them in Exy but still too close, they thought it was time to add some more support.

She hadn't come out to anyone but Kevin and a few friends, if she was honest. It had been too much to be a black girl in a coed sport to begin with. Racism and sexism were enough, the stereotypes were enough, the harassment and the abuse of the Ravens was enough. She didn't need to add coming out to the mix. Considering she and Kevin were on again off again, it made no sense. If they were hooking up and exploring life with other people on the off periods it did not matter.

They were both lucky that no one looked further into any of their friendships and situationships. But it was time to come clean and make it clear where they stood. They weren't the new players anymore, but they did matter. Their voices mattered.

Chapter Text

“Laila- when we first met it was my job to defend your goal. I can’t say I stopped everyone from scoring, but I can say I’ve gotten to score the most. You make every day better for me, whether it’s a shopping trip to the mall or buying replacement groceries because we left a delivery outside. I left,” she smiled at Laila when she could tell she was going to reject that blame, “outside, once. I’m so happy to celebrate today with everyone we love. I’m so happy we get to spend the rest of our lives together. It’s been a long nine years, full of too many memories to remind you of. I love you, and I’m so honored to be your wife.”

Impressively, she managed not to cry while she said the words. There was so much more Cat wanted to say but she’d left the paper with all her ideas back in the hotel suite. Judging by the look in Laila’s eyes, it went perfectly fine without them.

“Catalina,” Laila started, dark eyes locked on hers and nowhere else, “you are the silliest and sweetest person I know. You can find what I’ve lost before I even realize I’ve lost it, and you never hesitate to bring me home. I cherish every kiss before you get on your motorcycle, and I promise I will give you more chances in the future to share that passion with me. I love you,” Laila was the one choking up, tears welling on her perfectly lined eyes, “and I’m so happy I get to be your wife.”

Chapter Text

Aaron let his fingers wander over the small collection of pride pins. It was the end of May, and the stores of Chicago were going harder than they normally did. It was generally a progressive city, even more so out in the suburbs where he and Katelyn were lucky enough to work and live. There were more rainbow flags on a daily walk than if he had attended a pride parade in a different city.

“No ally ones,” Katelyn teased, coming up behind him to rest her chin on his head, arms around his shoulders. It was one of the easiest ways she could flaunt her height, not that he minded. He loved her long and thick thighs, the arms that could reach everything he couldn’t, and the way she always looked like a model when she wore heels. Working in medicine meant he didn’t have much of a hard on for it, but he couldn’t deny he was always interested in her when she was going on about a passionate case at work. Neurosurgeon and nurse, they were a solid pair.

“There’s both of yours,” he pointed to the pink-purple-blue and the pink-blue-yellow. Katelyn had gone back and forth on which one was better fit for her. He wasn’t sure he understood all of it, but he was happy to support. And the more she talked about it, honestly, the more he wondered.

They left the store with a bisexual pride pin for him, and both for her.

“So,” Katelyn crossed one thick thigh over the other on the train, “are we gonna talk about it?” Aaron flushed. He had half hoped she would let it slide, ignore that he had bought one for himself.

“I just- listening to you talk. I think- maybe I’m not just an ally.” Plus he’d been a pretty shit one to anyone other than her. Ally might not even be the best term for him.

“Oh?” She reached out, nudging him with one foot, “go on.” One of the reasons he loved her was that she wasn’t afraid to push when he wanted to pull away. She was so good at finding that balance.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me if it matters to you,” she smiled softly at him, rubbing her foot up his leg in encouragement. The sticky humidity meant there was no chance of moving without the terrible noise of the seats creaking in their wake.

“I just- so what if I like guys, too? Not like I’m gonna find out about the sex. It’s not like I’m gonna cheat on you to find out if I like something up my-“ he couldn’t even finish it, blush stopping him from speaking. Katelyn laughed, standing up to hold his face in two hands and give him a kiss.

“Oh, baby- I can strap you just fine. We don’t need a real dick to find out just how much you’ll like it.”

The first time they went home and tried it, it did not go very well. Aaron could not shut off the judgmental and homophobic parts of his brain no matter how hard he tried. Katie was fine with it, reassuring him that he didn't need to bottom even if he were to find out he was entirely gay and only attracted to cis men. She was almost too understanding.

It took a few months and a few drinks for him to bring that up to her.

“You know, I- I don’t need you to coddle me,” Aaron muttered into the crook of her neck. They were in the back of a car, the cab driver taking them to the apartment instead of risking the train and then a walk in the dark rain.

“So? I like taking care of you,” she teased. Her arms were around him, holding him steady because she knew how carsick he got nowadays. The lingering contact high of the drag show was not helping matters.

“I’m bi even if I'm afraid of it,” he defended himself. “You didn’t have to pretend the stuff was yours.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you were gonna tip her. Sorry, babe,” she kissed the top of his head, “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Maybe I need to be. Maybe- maybe we stopped too early last time.”

Katelyn was kind enough she did not make him elaborate too much. Instead, they went through the motions the same way they would try any other new position. It was a convenient excuse for her to try out multiple different ways to ride on top of him. Aaron was absolutely never going to refuse her that chance.

“Fuck it,” Aaron announced as he was going through the closet, “let’s stay in.”

“Really?” Katelyn was shocked, but she had also not started getting ready yet. Her hair took far less time to wrestle under control then his did. long locks were always more forgiving than the short ones he insisted on keeping. he also had what appeared to be the beginnings of a bald spot, but she was refusing to let him know. he would only get sensitive about it, and she wasn't entirely sure it wasn't just due to the way it dried after the last shower.

“Yeah,” he turned around with a box in his hands, “let’s do something new.”

“Do you know what’s in there?” Katelyn asked with a raised brow. Aaron nodded, rolling his eyes. it was what held the last few sex toys they owned. with their competing schedules there was very little time to explore anything. there wasn't a need for half of them. no amount of batteries could make some of the motors better, as she had cheerfully commented after trying no less than eight vibrators a few months ago. Aaron had almost died of a painfully hard dick, not that it was actually possible. He would have been the first and no one would be able to blame him if it had happened. People weren’t meant to watch their hot wives do that sort of thing for that long.

“Do we have- we still have lube, right? And condoms?” she nodded, looking at him like he was something to eat. Heat rushed up his neck and cheeks, no doubt highly visible on his bare chest as well. “Right. Well.”

Katelyn pulled him and the box to the bed. For the longest time they were lost in each other’s lips. Aaron knew he was rock hard, knew she was also probably soaking wet, but they were making out like the lord was watching. No hips touching, no wandering hands below the belt lines. Just the press of her hands on his shoulders and his head into the soft bed.

“You sure about this?” She asked between kisses, slowly letting her weight settle on him. “We don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” Aaron mumbled against the soft curve of her jaw, “I want you to use it. Fuck me, and all that.”

It would be so easy for her to force him to say it out loud, to be explicit and desperate. But she wasn’t like that. His Katie didn’t need the desperation or whining someone else might. He’d seen the porn, she’d even sent him links to some. This wasn’t about taking away his manhood. Even the thought of that had him wrapping his arms around her tighter. This was just another position to try.

She started out like normal, blowing him with a finger caressing his hole. It always took so long for the first one. Once she was in, Aaron didn’t need her lips on his dick. Needed them elsewhere, to be honest, because she was an expert at curling her finger and finding his prostate. One became two became three and he thought he was dying.

“Katie,” he groaned, fingers stretching down helplessly for her. She was too far away, her head pillowed on his thigh as she watched her fingers go in and out. They were moving in an odd way, stretching him wider and making him gasp.

“Almost ready, Aaron,” she smiled up at him. The slow torture continued for a few minutes. “Put the condom on it?” She asked him, kissing his shaft with a devious twinkle in her eyes. He nodded, hands fumbling until he had the latex down over the dark blue plastic.

Aaron tried not to think about how his fingers wrapped around it as he handed it down to her. He expected her to pull out completely to get ready. Instead, she used her fingers to guide the first part of the shaft in.

“Fuck, fuck- aren’t you- aren’t you wearing it?” He gasped and tried to sit up. Clenching his stomach muscles only made him clench around the dildo and that just sent more confusing tingles through his nervous system.

“Soon,” she giggled, hands coming away from him, “just relax. It won’t move unless you push it out.”

Push it out? Absolutely not. That would require Aaron to focus and he was so far past that. The pressure from inside was too great for him to form any coherent thoughts. Katelyn wiggled it while she put the harness on. He wanted to watch, really, he did- but that would require sitting up and he was not capable of such a feat.

More shuffling and movement had him get fucked in shallow and uneven thrusts. It didn't matter. It was the first time something like this was in him and it was so much.

Luckily, Katelyn did not tease him for how quickly he came once she started to fuck him in earnest. With the vibrating part turned on, he really hadn’t had a chance even before she closed her hand around his dick.

Chapter Text

“Let me,” Allison murmured, coming into the bathroom behind her. Renee’s short hair was tucked into two wayward braids, held in place by some gel she claimed was better for the environment than hair spray. Another argument, from another day. Allison had transitioned to heatless curls because she refused to use it. 

She gently undid the elastics holding them together, obviously to be reused, and set them on the spool that held the others. Her fingers were soft as she started to card through Renee’s sweaty hair. Still soft, she placed a kiss on her ear before the hair covered it up. The other came undone just as gentle. Allison finger combed through it before she grabbed the brush. Renee preferred strokes from the top of her head, regardless of how many times Allison told her it was better to start at the ends. With hair this short, maybe it didn’t matter. 

“Feeling better?” She asked, daring to hope the answer was yes. 

“Feeling worn down,” Renee answered in her particular brand of curt. To someone who didn’t know her, it was polite and almost sweet. Using one of her public voices made Allison’s anger rise to the surface again. They were partners. They were supposed to be true to each other, not this bullshit. 

“Will a shower together fix it?” 

“Probably not, but you’re welcome to join anyways.” 

That was a yes, actually. Allison smiled, kissing the top of her head. The few inches she had on the goalie made all the difference when she stood behind her in the mirror. Two shades of blonde, so different and yet they were perfect together. The shower would fix things. 

“Eco friendly,” she smirked. 

-

“You have until I start shivering,” Renee whispered, kissing at Allison’s soft wet neck. The warm skin was so easy, it was almost no fun to suck marks into her skin like they were teenagers. But Allison needed them. Renee needed them. Proof that even if they were fighting they were still together and that had to mean something. 

She reached behind and turned off the water. Allison knelt down, wet hair streaming down her face. Renee pushed it off to the side and lifted one leg over her shoulder. Allison used the extra space, hand curling around the thigh to hold her, to shove her face between Renee’s legs. There was no need for much warm up when they had the anger of their fight and the shower together. The conditioner was in their hair, working its magic, and Allison’s tongue was working its own. 

—

“I’ll forgive you,” Renee’s voice was back to its sickly sweet tone, not the public one but the one that she used when she wanted to put Allison in her place. Allison could feel heat coiling in her core, lips parted in anticipation of every word, “but I get your ass first.” 

“Yes,” Allison could shriek with joy, “yes, absolutely, I accept those terms.” She surged upwards, using the side of the shower to support her speed. Their lips met in a crash, Renee’s back almost knocking the shampoo bottles to the ground in Allison’s rush. Few things in life were better than getting Renee’s forgiveness - a weighty thing - a win in their argument, and the chance for angry sex. A sore ass was such a small price to pay when it was going to be so fucking <i>good</i>. 

“Then dry off,” Renee’s hand smacked her ass, “so we can get to work.” 

Once she was on the bed, sprawled out and naked, Allison got the joy of watching Renee sort through their toys in nothing but a short and fluffy robe. It was delightful. With no instructions otherwise, she bent one leg up and reached down to play with herself. Long limbs and the pillows behind her let her dip two fingers between her folds with ease. She moaned, closing her eyes as her palm pushed against her clit. The taste of Renee was still fresh in her memory. Both sets of lips gave her nothing but love, the two favorite things to put her own lips on. Renee was good at ignoring her, hellbent on picking out the perfect items. Allison loved this part. There was so much care and dedication into which toys were brought into the bed. 

“You’re so needy,” Renee laughed when she turned around, chosen toys tucked into her robe so Allison couldn’t see them, “flip over, doll?” 

“Always,” Allison grinned. To the former, the latter- either worked. Long limbs spread out as she took the most dramatic path to flip over and pop her ass into the air. It was a perfect one, she knew. Professional Exy for two years and dedicated workouts ever since meant she was absolutely the perfect specimen of feminine strength. The soft layers of fat covered hard muscles that could press more than the average man, showing up at a public gym twice a week and judging all the women for only benching the bar. Allison loved the way her stomach folded when she sat down, something she honestly never thought she’d appreciate until she realized just how easy it was to build muscle if she was eating and sleeping right. 

Renee’s hands were soft over her thighs and back. Allison shivered with anticipation, canting her hips backwards. She heard Renee’s soft huff of laughter behind her and thought she might die if she didn’t get something soon. 

The lube was cool when it dripped onto her skin. Renee was meticulous when it came to coating her hole with it, her fingers- there was no chance of any pain that wasn’t directly prescribed by her. The first finger was always the hardest, always a shock. But Renee’s other hand was on her hip and holding her still, so she could handle anything. One became two, the stretch easier the more she relaxed. Two did not become three when Renee next pulled out. 

Allison made a noise - needy or confused, she couldn’t tell - and tried to look behind her. A light slap to her ass stopped her from moving more. The other hand moved from her hip to her cunt, no preamble thanks to Allison work earlier. Renee shoved two fingers in, crooking and twisting them. Allison gasped and hung her head. The sensation continued until she was almost at her peak and then it stopped. 

“Renee,” she whined, “that was mean.” 

“You’re earning forgiveness, remember?” She sounded so hot when she was prim. One of the foremost reasons she fell in love in the first place. “Takes time.” 

“What happened to confession,” she grumbled, the remnants of her lip service to Catholicism. 

“Evangelist,” Renee corrected, “we’ve gone away from that. Did you want forgiveness sex or a lecture on the schisms?” 

“Sex, please,” Allison was quick to request, shoving herself so she was almost on Renee’s lap, “now, please.” 

“If you insist,” Renee had to be grinning, “anything for you.” 

Two bulbous pieces of silicone pressed into her at the same time. One spread her ass, the curved and bulging shape holding itself in. The other sank into her dripping cunt, an extra press getting it to stay. Judging by the shape, this was the connected one. Judging by that, she was about to - 

Allison’s back arched when the vibrations started. Alternating on some, synced up on others - each pulse had her gasping for breath. She didn’t need the attachment that would go over her clit. This was enough, the sense of utter <i>full</i> eclipsing most thoughts she could have. Renee moved her until Allison was hovering over her, legs spread over her hips. Allison couldn’t help herself. She ground down, gasping at the increase in sensation. This one didn’t have a remote. She had whatever Renee set it at and that was it. 

Renee pulled her down, tugging on the wet hair. She went willingly to let their lips meet. There was nothing soft or sweet about the biting kisses. Renee seemed determined to fuck her there, too, until all Allison knew was the feel of her. 

There was a limit to how much friction she could get like this. “Let me- fuck, Renee, can I- your thigh,” Allison babbled between her ragged breaths. 

“No,” Renee dug her blunt nails into Allison’s ass and hauled her further up, “you do what I want, not what you want.” And what Renee wanted, apparently, was for Allison to lose her goddamn mind. Whatever. She was going to come from this regardless of where the stimulation was or wasn’t. Allison let herself fall into the kisses, hands roaming wherever she could. 

She shook through two orgasms before Renee was gently repositioning her on her back. Hazy eyed, she watched as she pulled on a harness. Renee reached down to rest a different vibrator on her clit. Effective, Allison was unable to watch the rest of the process. The double vibrator came out of her with a wet noise, the pop of it leaving her another bit of sensation she craved. 

Long, thick, and curved, the dildo entered her ass with a new hum. Allison threw her legs around Renee’s waist, her best attempt pulling her closer. The problem was that her legs were as weak as the rest of her, blown out from the force of vibrators and orgasms and fighting. Renee laughed and pulled back. In and out, in and out - Allison lost her vision again. Renee threw more pressure on the other vibrator, picking it up and playing it over and over her. The lips, the clit, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Nothing was off limits when Allison was laid out in front of her like this. 

“So many,” her words were interrupted by gasps, “boys tried to get this from me. But you’re the only one. Only you, Renee, only you.” 

“I know, sweet thing,” Renee leaned forward to kiss her collarbones. One soft kiss on each, then she worked her way up to Allison’s mouth. Their mouths did not match the frantic force of their hips. 

So many dates wanted to do so many things with her. Allison was used to getting the entire play book of tricks. But it was with Renee that she felt truly safe to experiment and try new things. And she loved the angry push of Renee’s hips, the way the vibrations went through both of them, the way Renee never ever ever took her ass without a vibrator and several orgasms. It was so fun, so freeing. And it was forgiveness. Truthfully, Allison didn’t think she wanted this force applied to her pussy. Her ass was better suited for the way Renee rocketed her hips against her. 

Deliberate use of the vibrator had Allison seeing stars and coming again. Buzzing, Renee tossed it to the side. The next one was from her hand, her lips all over Allison. She couldn’t call it kissing when both were too worked up for it to be very intentional. 

Chapter Text

“Sit still,” Allison reprimanded Kevin with a poke of the eyeliner cap to his chest, “or you’re gonna fuck it up. You think you hate this- wait til I have to take it off and redo it.”

“Poking me isn’t helping,” Kevin retorted.

“Andrew’s dick is gonna be poking you all night,” she continued with no regard for Kevin’s sputtering, “once you let me finish this.”

Ever the prude, he continued to sputter and try to swat her hands away. Another threat from Allison had him sitting still, finally, so she could finish her magic.

“There,” she managed to pop the word out, “perfect.”

Kevin scowled at her but turned to look in the mirror anyways. He barely recognized himself, green eyes popping out from the black liner all around it. His cheeks weren’t the blotchy tan and flush he normally had. There was a slight shimmer to them, under an even spread of rosy glow.

Chapter Text

Aaron had friends from his hospital (residency was kicking his ass but somehow it meant they were all getting along there, David did not pretend to understand) who insisted he come to Pride and bring his boyfriend. Kevin danced around admitting they were dating to David for far too long, but at least was open about it.

Abby and Bee (both of them his girlfriends but also each others' but also girlfriend made it sound like they were six years old) heard about the event and promptly decided they wanted to go, too. It was a family friendly affair, they said, that't why five grown adults were piled into one SUV to go downtown in the middle of June.

It was fucking hot. David got hit on more than once, which he thought wouldn't be a problem since he was clearly here with someone else. Betsy looked so happy when she came over with a new shirt for him. Begrudgingly he put it on. I heart my bi wife was written across the front.

"We should cross it out and change it to wives," Betsy offered Abby with a smile.

"Oh hell no. He's your problem, not mine," the trainer held her hands up. David crossed his arms. Kevin, damn him, looked almost happy at the interaction.

Chapter Text

“He burnt the toast again,” Abby mumbled into Bee’s shoulder. They were tangled together in the big bed, not moving from when she collapsed on her last night. Their partner’s ability to get almost no sleep after games and still wake up before seven was a nightmare. “I can smell it.”

“I’ll fix it,” Bee assured her, not bothering to open her eyes. David would be making his version of breakfast in the kitchen. He didn’t need a witness. It would be worse, in fact, because if he burnt enough toast for three people she might feel obligated to take a bite out of it.

The Dutch had it right- chocolate spread and sprinkles were the perfect thing for a good piece of toast. Both Abby and David found that to be an abomination. Bee didn’t mind that their ideas of breakfast were different. It meant she got to sleep in while they always woke early for practices.

Chapter Text

“This is an abomination,” Jean muttered as they headed out to the basketball court that was currently serving as an Exy court facsimile. According to the cheerful group leader, it could also work for pickleball but they wouldn’t let the kids play soccer on it unless the field was super soggy. He’d almost prefer teaching Exy on the grass over this.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Jeremy smiled at him. The dimple was cheating, a devious trick by the genetics of the Knox family tree specifically to torment Jean. “Besides, half the point of this is the photo op.”

Jean nodded, turning away from the bright smile. The sun was pale in comparison, dull and lifeless overhead. His skin was tanner now. There were tan lines from a variety of things. Garden gloves and long socks or bathing shorts and his cross necklace - Jean found the different patches of skin welcome now that it was sun and not shades of bruise.

USC had an outreach program with some of the local community centers. This one focused on youth only, with priority to kids that were seeking support for gender or sexuality or religion. Los Angeles was a blend of so many things, and Jean was coming to learn that the family dynamics were just as varied as the food court at the mall. More, perhaps, because there was never a clear menu for him to reference when trying to manage his professional career and time as an USC Alumni athlete.

They were big roles to fill. Lucky for him, Jeremy was by his side. Their hands brushed as they walked to the center of the makeshift court.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The buzzer sounded across the way. Kevin looked up at the scoreboard, sweat dripping down the side of his face. He took off his helmet to see better but couldn’t make it out. On the side of the court, the US coach and staff were pounding on the partition.

Moth to a flame, Kevin took one step that way, then another. The door opened as Aaron stepped out to meet him on the court. The olympic medical staff badge flipped and bent against Kevin’s jersey and armor.

Their lips crashed together, shouts of we won echoing behind them.