|| Chapter Twenty-Five || Marcos – “Why are you awake?” #2
Marcos stayed where he was, glancing at Sebastian.
Sebastian was staring after Harry, shoulders dropped a little, back shifting as he drew in a breath deeper than usual. Marcos watched as Sebastian pulled himself back into the shape he used at the club. The lightness from the promotional shoot dissipated before it even settled.
Sebastian turned to look at Marcos, his mouth pulled tight, before he lifted his eyebrows, his face saying what words couldn’t.
Marcos felt the look under his ribs. He didn’t know what to say. There was probably nothing to say out here anyway, with crew members still moving and working behind them and players scattered across the oval, with Harry jogging away like he had only made a normal joke.
They continued off the field.
Neither of them spoke. The wind moved behind them, carrying fragments of voices from the film crew and the thud of a football being kicked at the far end of the ground.
Marcos could still hear Harry’s laugh in his head, too easy and casual, the phrase thrown out like it didn’t have weight because the person saying it had never had to carry it.
Inside, the locker room was quieter than usual. A few players were there, getting changed or passing through before heading back out. Someone nodded at them as they passed. Sebastian nodded back, quick and automatic, while Marcos lifted a hand.
They settled beside each other on a bench.
Both of them started taking off the promotional training gear they had been wearing for the shoot and getting ready to head back out to the drills.
The branded shirt came off Marcos’ shoulders, and he folded it badly before setting it aside.
Sebastian was more careful with his, of course, smoothing the material once before putting it down.
He sat forward, elbows briefly on his knees, head lowered as he reached for his usual training top.
Marcos kept glancing over at him.
His mind replayed Harry’s words, then slipped to the weeks before. Loren at Sebastian’s apartment and Sebastian’s face when she called him Bao. What it had meant to him for his sister to show up.
There was still a whole side of Sebastian Marcos didn’t know.
A whole life he only saw in pieces. Years of things Marcos had only brushed against when Sebastian let something slip.
Even the fear itself had layers Marcos was still trying to understand.
It wasn’t only the sport. It wasn’t only the internet.
It wasn’t only the crowd. It was all of it stacked together, old and new, until a comment like Harry’s could land in the middle of a Tuesday morning and change the air around Sebastian without anyone else noticing.
Marcos noticed now. He wished noticing felt more useful.
He no longer tried to lie to himself that he didn’t want to be with Sebastian as more than just sexually.
He had tried for a while. Calling it a fling.
Maybe a friend with benefits, even though the benefits came few and far between and the friend part still was too small for whatever sat between them.
Sebastian had somehow got hold of Marcos before he’d even realised it.
From the first time they kissed, Marcos’ head had been in a whirl about everything.
Sebastian. His own sexuality, which he still refused to look at too directly for too long. He knew enough now to stop pretending he only liked women.
He knew he liked Sebastian. He knew he wanted him, and not just in the simple way that made sense when Sebastian’s mouth was on him or his hands were sliding over his body.
He wanted to know him.
He wanted to know how Loren fitted into his life when they weren’t fighting in his kitchen.
He wanted to know what his life was like when he was younger and why family was such a sore subject.
He wanted to know how Geelong had felt, not just as a club, but as a life before Melbourne.
He wanted to know what Sebastian did with all the sharp little pieces of himself when no one was there to watch him hold them together.
He wanted to be let in.
He just didn’t know if Sebastian wanted that too.
Marcos’ eyes dropped to his hands, flexing them once.
Why was he the one feeling this way when it had been Sebastian who had started all of this?
Why was it him sitting here wanting more when Sebastian had been the one who had liked him since they were teenagers?
Sebastian had carried that for years, apparently.
Buried it under hate and competition and whatever else kept it manageable.
Then he had kissed Marcos, touched him, pulled him in, and still somehow managed to be the one keeping doors shut.
He just wished he could see inside Sebastian’s head and know exactly what was happening in there.
Sebastian pulled his training shirt over his head, and the action dragged Marcos’ attention back to him.
He looked normal again by the time the shirt settled.
Hair flat against his forehead, his face controlled, and his hands went through the usual routine of changing gear, checking socks, setting the promo kit aside.
Then an idea forced its way into Marcos’ mind, and his mouth twitched.
“I know you want to keep things separate,” Marcos whispered, leaning toward Sebastian, “but when things chill out a little, would you be keen on me coming around for a game?”
Sebastian turned, his eyes sweeping the locker room before landing on Marcos. “Racing?”
“Nah, nah. It’s like a card game.”
Sebastian’s brow lifted, and Marcos smiled.
It was stupid, but that had never stopped Marcos before.
It was something Paula had bought to play with her best friend. A box of cards with questions each player had to answer truthfully to get to know each other. Favourite memories, worst habits, things you were scared to admit.
One could hardly call it a game.
“It’ll be fun,” Marcos continued. “We can relax. Have a few drinks.”
Sebastian watched him. Long enough for Marcos to see him weigh it in his mind.
The separation he wanted and the fear that still sat around them.
The fact that Marcos was asking for something that was not sex or anything to do with training or football.
Something that wasn’t an accidental overlap of the lives Sebastian had kept separate.
It was something else. Something chosen.
Sebastian’s lips turned up at the side, and he rolled his head. “Okay. Yeah. I’d like that.”
Marcos’ chest loosened, and his stomach stopped feeling like it was shrinking. “When the season ends.” He nudged Sebastian and got to his feet. “Maybe?”
Sebastian pushed himself up and nodded. “When the season ends.”
“Alright.” Marcos clapped Sebastian on the shoulder. “Let’s fucking do this shit.”