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“Then why’d you say it’s true?”
“I dunno, lots of people message me about it.”
“Is that what you want? To meet a guy that way?”
“What? No! Of course not.”
“’Cos you’re not gonna meet someone worthy of you if he’s reaching out just ’cos of some picture.”
Finn snorted. “Pretty sure I’m not gonna meet a guy anytime soon. And I dunno about worthy of me,” Joq could practically see the air quotes, could hear the sarcasm dripping in Finn’s tone. “They’re right. I’m just a dumb fuck-up with a nice face and good abs who could’ve been good at football if he spent more time on it and less on his fucking image.”
Joq waited for George to counter with a big speech about self-esteem and not going online. He sipped his cider.
“You gotta know any guy who gets you is gonna be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world,” George said.
Joq almost choked.
“Stop trying to make me feel better.”
“I’m not.”
Joq could hear them breathing as silence descended.
“You’re a great player,” George went on after several beats. “And yeah, you’re easy on the eyes. But that’s not all you are. That’s not what makes you… special.”
“What makes me special?” Finn’s voice was so low, Joq barely caught it.
“This,” George replied softly, his body shifting like he was moving. “And this.”
Joq wanted to peek so badly, but he couldn’t. Not from this angle with the lights on in there.
“No one can touch this,” George finished quietly. “Not unless you let them.”
Joq could hear them breathing, could hear the sound of Finn moving on the couch, but he didn’t say anything.
“And no fuckwit on some social media site is fucking worthy of it, you hear me?”
Finn laughed and Joq felt the tension break. George’s tone shifted back to the Coach vibe as he started talking about Finn’s actual game, and Joq backed up, crept outside.
It was Monday morning after that, after the latest disaster of a game, though the team won anyway, be pretty embarrassing if they didn’t against a bottom side team from the West, and Joq was screwing the lid on his takeaway mug before he headed to work when the intercom at the gate went. George had the day off, which meant he was down below in the gym.
Joq figured it was a delivery and went to answer the intercom but George beat him to it.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me,” Finn’s voice crackled over the speaker.
Joq heard the click of the gate opening.
“In the gym,” George said.
Joq slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbed his coffee and went into the living room. He peered through the curtain and watched as Finn came up the long driveway. He had his hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed on a point ahead as his mouth started to curve into a reluctant smile.
George appeared, his arms coming up as Finn got closer. He wrapped him in a tight hug. Finn’s hands stayed in his pockets, but he brought his head down and rested it on George’s shoulder, sagging into the embrace. George was clearly saying something, Finn moving his head from side to side, rubbing his face on the fabric of George’s singlet before dragging his face up the bare skin of his throat. His lips moved against George’s ear and Joq felt something twist in his gut when George gripped Finn tighter.
He stepped back and let the curtain flutter closed. George had said he wasn’t going to do anything and Joq believed him. Finn was, understandably, upset. He was also young, away from home. George was comforting him. There was no way anything else was going on because Joq got that George got that it was a fucking terrible idea.
Joq stayed rooted to the spot anyway. He didn’t want to interrupt. He was going to be late. He was starting to get pretty fucking mad when he heard the sound of their footsteps heading up the driveway, heading for the open garage that led into the gym.
