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“Yep,” Joq drained his beer, nodded when the bartender picked up a glass for another.
The door clanged open and a couple of guys in high vis came in.
“Guess who we just saw walking down the street?” one of them asked as he took a seat.
“George Creed?” the bartender replied, his smile indulgent.
“And Finnegan Flynn,” the other one said. “Man, I ain’t gay, but I would for him, fuck.”
Joq laughed, what else could he do?
Epilogue
It was a year later when Joq finally booked those plane tickets to Thailand. He had a new boyfriend, very new, only just at the stage where they’d shifted from fucking to dating to Chris asking seriously and nervously if they could be exclusive.
“Not open?”
“Definitely not,” Chris had replied, affronted as they had the conversation in a coffee shop, Chris anxiously stirring his coffee until that moment. “I don’t want to share you.”
And, well, sue him, that line made Joq preen, made him think maybe he’d get his forever love too.
He’d suggested Koh Samui for a summer break, and Chris had booked a month off from his brokerage firm the next day, booked them first class seats and sent Joq a link to a resort. Joq knew the place, of course; it was the best, with exclusive bungalows and private beaches. He couldn’t see any reason to say no.
He’d made his peace with George and Finn. Well, he felt like he had.
He hadn’t released the footage.
For one thing, if that got out, there’d be a lot of questions about how someone got access. Worse, if he didn’t own it, they’d grill his team. Ask for a scapegoat. He’d never do that to them.
And for another thing, he felt the never-ending news coverage, social media trending, and gossip rag coverage of the wedding was sufficient, thanks.
The image of George’s arms holding Finn tight against him, Finn’s hands bunched in the back of George’s white shirt, their bodies fused together while they shared a kiss way too passionate for a bloody wedding ceremony was enough.
It was about a month after the wedding when he felt like he couldn’t escape the photos and clips—George and Finn barefoot on the beach in matching loose white pants and shirts, tanned and smiling at one another; champagne glasses clinking with eyes only for the other in a marquee filled with fairy lights and flowers; their first dance and George’s lips in Finn’s hair, whispering something as Finn smiled a private smile—when Joq got really drunk, cried a little, and did something with the footage.
He woke up the next day, saw the notification on his phone informing him his parcel was on its way to the PO Box registered on Finn’s social media accounts, and he felt, not better, but relieved.
He received a thank you note weeks later, embossed in wedding calligraphy; it was an actual thank you note from their wedding, signed, Finn & George.
Joq tossed it in the bin. He tried not to think about how he was going to face George at work that season.
George took care of that though. Got himself a trade to Sydney, assistant coach for the other Sydney side, and Joq had to put up with another news cycle obsessed with the married rivals. But the season passed with nothing in it, and Joq had to concede Finn didn’t deal with as much homophobia as people expected—having George watch all of his games that didn’t conflict with his own schedule from a corporate box looking like he’d serial kill everyone who looked at Finn the wrong way probably helped.
It was finals when he met Chris. It was offseason when they went exclusive. And as Joq got out of their transfer limousine and stepped into the humid Thai sunshine, he felt good.
“I’ll check us in,” Chris said as he came up beside Joq, squeezed his hip. “Go have a drink.”
Joq smiled up at him. “See you at the pool bar.”
He made his way through the plant-filled lobby, gazed at the palms and the beach beyond, felt the warm breeze like a welcome hit of calm. He was making his way outside to the patio, heading for the bar when he saw him.
His eyes landed on the gold wedding band like it was a magnet. Finn was walking his way, dressed casually in shorts and a nice button up, his hair long, skin tanned, body bigger. He saw Joq a moment after Joq saw him, and he started, eyes widening in surprise. Joq thought he’d look away, walk on. He didn’t; he smiled, walked right up to him.
“Joq, hey,” he said as he stopped a careful distance away.
“Finn,” Joq nodded.
“How’s it going?” Finn asked, calm and happy.
