Hits Different: An MM Friends to Lovers Sports Romance

by Joel Rustin

“Falling in love is easy.” “So what’s the problem?” He doesn’t meet my eyes, as the air suddenly becomes thicker. “It doesn’t happen the same way for everyone.”

“I always thought there was something pretty cool about going through life with your best friend. Even,” His voice is unrecognisable, “If you can’t have him the way you want to.”

That’s why I lied when I told him I didn’t remember what happened that night on the beach. What he said to me. Or what I said back.

“There’s a vicious rumour that the new player is demanding a twink be delivered to him.” He isn’t even bothering to hide his amusement. “Now, we’re an open-minded community but this is a professional setting, Carter. You can cruise for dudes on your own time.” He hands me an ice cold soda. There’s condensation on the can, and our fingers lightly touch as I take it from him. Jesus Christ. “Twinkie. Noun. A tasty snack. Much like myself.” I take a swig. It’s cool and delicious. And also diet. For God’s sake. “Twink. Also a noun. A tasty, fresh-faced slender young homosexual. A little like myself.”

“I remember feeling like I’d die if even a second between us was wasted. I used to bike all the way across town just to walk her five minutes home from her piano recitals and it’d be totally worth it to me. I wanted to see her, be with her, all the time.”

And you’d go miles out of your way just to spend time alone with him. You’d skip practice just to go to the mall and help him pick out a present for his girlfriend, because doing something with him that hurt was less painful than doing nothing with him at all.

“My whole life only two people have ever really seen me.” “Millie, and, what was your college girlfriend’s name?” “Jenna. But I was talking about you.” Parker ruffles his short hair. “You always saw the best in me. You’re still doing it now. That’s why I spent the day fixing a rusty old sign on an entrance that nobody ever uses. Shit-list job number one all ticked off.”

“It was a long time ago,” I manage. “I’m over it. Obviously.” “Wow,” he says softly. “Me?” Of course you. It's always you.

“I can’t fight with you, Brandon. Anyone else. Everyone else. But not you.”

People die twice. Nobody ever tells you. The first when they stop living. The second when people stop talking about them.

I met Parker literally the next day. And I’ve been running towards him ever since.

He bursts out laughing. It’s so genuine, and warms me from the inside out. It lights up his whole face, and before I know it, I’ve reached across the table and squeezed his hand. His mouth opens in surprise, and I realise my mistake immediately.

A wave of guilt runs through me. “I need,” he says, with effort, “For you to not die on me. Ever. Because I wouldn’t recover. If you left me. If something happened to you. I’d never get over it.”

“Thought that if you really did hate who you thought I was, that seeing me making out with a girl might make you feel better about talking to me.”

“I just realised how much I like him. And that’s making me say stupid things. Because I’m excited, but a little scared.”

“There’s no fucking limit on what I’d do for you.” He pulls me closer. “Because you deserve the world, Parker. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you don’t.”

He pulls away from me so that I can’t see his face. I’ve never seen him choked up before. Ever. “Did I do something?” When he turns back, his eyes are glistening. What he says swells and breaks my heart at the same time. “You showed up.”