Chapter Three #2
The need to wipe it off Sebastian’s face grew enough that he took a step closer before he thought better of it.
Sebastian didn’t move back.
That was the irritating thing about Sebastian. He never backed down.
A second whistle called them into another round, and Marcos turned away first, dragging air into his lungs as he headed back to the start.
They ran again. Marcos won that one.
He knew it the moment he crossed the finish line, but didn’t grin until the assistant called it out, then he let it come across his face wide and full.
Sebastian worked his jaw.
On the third sprint, both of them went too hard. Marcos’ mind was no longer on running and only on beating Sebastian.
The whistle blew, and they took off.
Sebastian got the cleaner start this time, body snapping forward, boots tearing into the grass.
Marcos recovered by the fourth step and drove after him, shoulder level with Sebastian’s as they hit the middle of the strip.
The finish line sat ahead, too close. Marcos pushed and felt his legs answer, but still felt Sebastian beside him.
They crossed the line hard enough that neither of them slowed down properly. Marcos stumbled when he tried to, and Sebastian’s shoulder clipped his. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for Marcos to react before his brain caught up.
He shoved him.
Sebastian shoved back.
“Enough.” Jacob’s voice cut in before either of them could make another move, the word cracking across the grass.
Marcos stepped back instantly. Sebastian did the same, breathing hard, eyes still locked on Marcos.
Jacob walked toward them with the kind of pace that made several nearby players pretend they were not watching. His gaze landed on Marcos first, then Sebastian.
“Do I need to separate you two like you’re in fucking school?”
Marcos kept his mouth shut. Sebastian mirrored him, though it looked more painful for him.
Jacob stopped in front of them. “Because I can. I’ll put one of you at each end of the oval and make you run until you remember you’re both wearing maroon and gold.”
Marcos gave a short nod, and Sebastian’s came half a second later.
Jacob looked between them for another moment, then stepped back. “Good. Now, walk it off. Both of you.”
Marcos turned first, heading toward the boundary line while the cones behind him started getting packed up. Parker caught up to him not long after, his arm wrapping around Marcos’ shoulders.
He sighed. “You know, I’m starting to think the finger trap wouldn’t survive.”
Marcos kept walking. “You think?”
“Disappointing. It was such a good idea.”
Marcos didn’t say anything. He only shook his head.
“Guess you won’t get to see him pee.”
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Marcos questioned. “Like, a kink you want to get off your chest?”
“Me? No.” Parker scoffed, then sighed. “I did get peed on this one time, though. Ah, Veronica.”
“I don’t think we’re close enough for this.”
Parker leaned in, tightening his grip. “You know what? It wasn’t that bad. If you ever get with a freaky chick, give it a go.”
“Alright.” Marcos grabbed Parker’s arm and peeled it off him. “Thank you. I will…keep that in mind.”
“You’re welcome.” Parker nodded and closed his eyes as though he had given Marcos great wisdom, then they snapped open again. “I didn’t… It didn’t go in my mouth.”
“We don’t have to keep talking about it.”
Parker tilted his head from side to side, then grinned. “It did a little.”
The whistle blew behind them, and Marcos heard the assistant calling them back over.
“Which did make me hornier, so would also slightly recommend,” Parker continued, following Marcos as they strode back to the team.
“You’re so fucking weird.” Marcos laughed, his gaze settling on Sebastian, who had already reached the other players.
He stood near Phetmany, hands on his hips, sweat darkening the hair at his temples and pulling a few black strands across his forehead. His face had mostly gone blank again, except for the tightness around his mouth, which couldn’t seem to let go of the irritation.
Sebastian glanced over as Marcos and Parker rejoined the group. It was only quick, barely more than a flick of his eyes. He turned away almost immediately, turning his attention to the assistant trainer explaining the next drill.
Marcos’ mouth twitched.
There was something too easy about getting under Sebastian’s skin. Everything about him seemed controlled and in place until Marcos pushed the right place, and then something cracked through.
It was stupid to enjoy that.
Marcos knew it was stupid. But he couldn’t deny it was fun.
By the time training wound down, Marcos’ legs were heavy, and his shirt had started sticking unpleasantly to his back. The group headed toward the rooms in uneven clusters, everyone dragging their feet as they went.
Parker walked beside him, his shoulder too close to Marcos’, talking about Veronica again. “I should call her.”
“To be peed on?”
Parker laughed and elbowed Marcos. “Maybe.”
“If it will get you to shut up, I’ll fucking do it.”
That earned Marcos an even sharper elbow. “Thanks, but you can save that for someone else.”
Marcos groaned, dropping his shoulders. His gaze found Sebastian, who was a few metres ahead, speaking to Phetmany with his head slightly turned.
Marcos couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Phetmany laughed once, quick and surprised, and Sebastian’s mouth pulled at the corner before he glanced back.
Their eyes met across the small gap between players, and Sebastian’s expression tightened. Marcos lifted two fingers in a lazy wave.
Sebastian rolled his eyes and faced forward, and Marcos smiled despite himself. He should probably stop poking at him.
Probably.
But then what would he do?