Character Descriptions
Ethan Torres – 22, star college football player. Tall (6’2”)
-
Physical Appearance: The quintessential high school jock. He has a muscular, athletic build from years of football, with broad shoulders and strong arms. His hair is a mess of dark brown curls that he often pushes back with a hand, and his eyes are a warm, honest shade of hazel. He has a confident, easy smile that can light up a room, but a more reserved, pensive expression when he's with Ryan
-
Personality: On the field and in the halls, Ethan is a natural leader—charismatic, outgoing, and the life of the party. He’s the star quarterback, a hero in his town. However, his public persona masks an introspective and deeply caring nature. He’s always been more comfortable expressing himself through action (football) than words, but his bond with Ryan challenges this. He’s been secretly questioning his sexuality for years, a fact he's hidden from everyone, even himself, often avoiding relationships and becoming acutely aware of his body language whenever he's around Ryan.
-
Intimacy: For Ethan, intimacy is about safety and vulnerability, found in tangible moments. It’s a hand resting on the back of his neck after a tough game, a shared glance across a crowded room, or the easy way Ryan talks about his art, which makes Ethan feel seen and understood in a way no one else has. His journey is about learning to bridge the gap between his physical, public identity and his emotional, private self.
Ryan Miller – 21, Ethan’s best friend since middle school.
- Physical Appearance: Tall and lean, with a graceful, almost fluid posture. He has messy blonde hair that often falls over his eyes, which are a striking, clear blue. Unlike Etan athletic build, Ryan body is lithe, a canvas for the clothing he wears, which is often artistic and thoughtfully put together. He has a scattering of freckles on his nose and a gentle, inviting smile.
-
Personality: Ryan is the counterpoint to Ethan’s public bravado. He's quiet, observant, and creative, spending his time sketching in a notebook or listening to music. He has a dry, witty sense of humor that only Ethan seems to fully appreciate. Ryan is unconcerned with social hierarchies and is one of the few people who sees Ethan more than just "the quarterback." He's deeply loyal and intuitive, often sensing Ethan moods without a word needing to be said. He has an open mind and heart, which makes him the perfect person for Ryan to confide in.
-
Intimacy: Ryan intimacy is emotional and intellectual. It's sharing a pair of headphones to listen to a new song, or talking for hours about the future. His art reflects his internal world, and he often finds himself secretly sketching Ethan in his notebook, capturing moments he can’t articulate in words. His journey is about recognizing that the profound, platonic love he has for his best friend might be something more, and having the courage to meet Ryan halfway
Chapter One – Friday Night Lights
The roar of the crowd rolled like thunder across the stadium, but Ethan Torres barely heard it. His cleats dug into the turf, breath burning in his chest as he scanned the field. One more play. One more chance to put the game away.
He called the snap, the ball pressed into his palms, and everything narrowed into sharp focus. Muscles straining, body moving on instinct, he cut past defenders and crossed the end zone. The crowd exploded.
But when Ethan lifted his helmet off, searching through the sea of faces, it wasn’t the cheerleaders or the cameras he was looking for. His eyes went straight to one person.
Ryan Miller.
Perched on the front row of the bleachers, blond hair catching under the stadium lights, Ryan was clapping and shouting his name like he was the only person in the stands. His grin stretched wide, proud and unshaken. Ethan felt his chest tighten—not from the run, not from the game, but from the way Ryan looked at him.
Later, in the quiet after the game, when the locker room cleared out and the echo of laughter faded, Ethan found Ryan waiting outside the doors.
“Nice win, superstar,” Ryan teased, holding out a fist for Ethan to bump.
Ethan chuckled, shaking his damp hair out of his eyes. “You never miss a game, do you?”
“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” Ryan shot back, but there was warmth in his voice that said more than the words themselves.
They walked side by side back to their apartment, the night air cool and sharp. Ethan listened to Ryan’s voice, to the easy rhythm of his laughter, and wondered—not for the first time—why being around Ryan felt better than winning any game ever could.
Chapter One – Friday Night Lights (continued)
The streets were almost empty, the buzz of the stadium fading into a low hum behind them. Ethan’s bag swung from his shoulder, his jersey clinging to his skin with the lingering damp of sweat. Ryan shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, walking close enough that their arms brushed now and then.
“Seriously though,” Ryan said, kicking a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “That touchdown was insane. You were like—” He raised his arms, mimicking a stiff-arm. “Get outta my way, dude, I’ve got destiny to fulfill.”
Ethan laughed, shaking his head. “You make it sound cooler than it felt. I was just trying not to trip over my own feet.”
“You could trip and still make it look like a highlight reel,” Ryan shot back.
The way he said it made Ethan glance sideways. Ryan wasn’t even looking at him—he was staring ahead, like the compliment had slipped out without him meaning to. Ethan felt a tug in his chest, the kind that left him suddenly aware of the space between them.
By the time they reached their apartment building, the easy banter had quieted. Ryan jogged ahead, unlocking the door with a dramatic flourish like he was letting royalty into a castle.
“Your palace awaits, Your Highness.”
Ethan rolled his eyes but followed him inside. Their apartment smelled faintly of pizza and laundry detergent, a blend of Ryan’s neatness and Ethan’s chaos. On Ethan’s side of the living room, football gear was piled in a corner; Ryan’s side was stacked with sketchbooks and pencils.
Ryan collapsed onto the couch, patting the cushion beside him. “C’mon, sit. Celebrate. You earned it.”
Ethan dropped his bag and sank down. For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only years of friendship could build. Ryan pulled out his phone and scrolled through photos from the game. Ethan leaned over his shoulder, close enough to catch the faint scent of Ryan’s shampoo.
“There,” Ryan said, showing him a shot someone had posted—Ethan mid-run, eyes locked forward, determination carved into his features. “Looks like you belong on one of those sports posters.”
Ethan smirked but didn’t answer. His eyes weren’t on the picture. They were on Ryan—on the way his lips curved when he smiled, on the crinkle at the corners of his eyes.
Something in his stomach twisted, sharp and confusing. He tore his gaze away, leaning back against the couch.
“You’re staring again,” Ryan said lightly, not looking up from his phone.
Ethan’s throat tightened. “What?”
Ryan finally turned, grinning. “At yourself. Don’t worry, I’d stare too if I looked like that.”
Ethan barked a laugh, relief flooding through him, but the feeling in his chest didn’t fade. If anything, it burned stronger.
Chapter One – Friday Night Lights (closing)
Ryan tossed his phone onto the coffee table and stretched out across the couch, feet propped against Ethan’s thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world. Ethan glanced down, startled by the casual contact, but didn’t move.
“Man,” Ryan sighed, eyes half-closed, “I don’t know how you do it. All those people screaming, the pressure, the cameras… If it were me, I’d trip on the fifty-yard line and never show my face again.”
Ethan chuckled. “You’d be fine. You’ve got nerves of steel.”
Ryan cracked one eye open. “Nerves of sarcasm, maybe.”
They both laughed, and the room settled into a gentle quiet. The hum of the refrigerator filled the silence. Outside, a car passed by, headlights flickering through the blinds. Ethan shifted slightly, trying not to think about the warmth of Ryan’s feet against him—or how natural it felt, how much he didn’t want it to end.
Ryan’s voice broke the stillness, softer now. “You know, I’ve been to every single one of your games since freshman year.”
Ethan turned his head. “I know.”
“No, I mean… every single one. Even the ones where it poured rain, or when I had finals the next morning. I don’t think I’ve ever told you why.”
Ethan’s chest tightened. “Why?”
Ryan smiled faintly, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Because watching you out there makes me believe in something. Like… if you can carry all that weight and still come out on top, then maybe I can handle my own stuff too. You make it look possible.”
The words hit harder than any tackle Ethan had ever taken. He swallowed, his throat dry. For a second, he thought about saying something—something real, something that had been clawing at his chest for years.
Instead, he managed a quiet, “Thanks, Ry.”
Ryan looked at him then, really looked. Their eyes locked, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Ethan’s pulse thundered in his ears. For a moment, it felt like the world tilted closer—like Ryan might shift forward, close the distance, make the thought in Ethan’s chest a reality.
But then Ryan blinked, and the spell broke. He yawned, rolling onto his side. “Alright, champ. Enough sap. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’m sleeping in till noon.”
Ethan forced a laugh, masking the rush of feelings clawing inside him. “Yeah. Same.”
They sat there a little longer, neither moving, the glow of the TV casting soft light over them. Eventually, Ryan’s breathing evened out, sleep tugging at him. Ethan stayed still, staring at his best friend’s profile, the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He thought about how easy it would be to lean down, to press his lips to Ryan’s temple, to admit everything he’d buried for years.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he whispered to the quiet room, words Ryan would never hear:
“You’re the reason I play.”
And with that, Ethan leaned back against the couch, letting the night carry them both into silence.
Chapter Two – Locker Room Talk
The locker room always smelled the same after a game—sweat, turf, and the sharp bite of disinfectant. Ethan pulled his jersey over his head, tossing it into his duffel as laughter bounced off the tiled walls. His teammates were still buzzing from the win, their voices carrying above the hiss of showers and the clatter of lockers.
“Torres!” someone shouted from across the room. “Man, you were a beast out there. Bet half the girls in the stands are writing your name in their notebooks right now.”
A chorus of hoots and whistles followed. Ethan smirked, playing along. “Only half?”
The guys roared with laughter, one of them slapping his back hard enough to sting. The ritual was always the same: talk about the game, talk about the girls, keep it light, keep it easy. Nobody asked questions that mattered.
Across the row, his teammate Cole leaned back on the bench, towel slung low around his waist. “So who’s it gonna be tonight, Torres? You hittin’ up Jenna? Or maybe that blonde from Econ, what’s her name—Ashley?”
Ethan shrugged, tugging on a clean T-shirt. “Haven’t decided.”
“Man’s spoiled for choice.” Cole grinned. “Must be nice.”
The guys laughed again, but Ethan’s stomach tightened. He forced a smile, but his mind wasn’t on Jenna or Ashley. It was on the way Ryan had looked at him last night, the softness in his voice when he’d said you make it look possible.
Ethan shoved the thought down before it could show on his face.
The conversation kept rolling, louder and cruder. Stories about hookups, jokes about who could “pull” the most. Ethan laughed at the right moments, but it all felt like static in his ears.
When he finally stepped out into the cool night, Ryan was leaning against the brick wall outside the locker room, hood up, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Hey,” Ryan said, straightening when he saw him. “Took you long enough. Thought you got lost in there.”
Ethan exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders. “You know how it is. Cole never shuts up.”
Ryan grinned. “Bet he was giving you crap about girls again, huh?”
Ethan glanced at him, caught off guard. “How’d you know?”
Ryan shrugged. “Because he always does. And because you always come out looking like you’d rather eat nails than keep that conversation going.”
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too damn observant, you know that?”
They fell into step together, the campus quiet around them. The floodlights from the stadium glowed faint in the distance, a reminder of the world Ethan was supposed to belong to—the loud, confident jock with his pick of girls.
But walking beside Ryan, hearing his easy laugh, Ethan felt more himself than he ever did in the locker room.
And that scared him more than anything.
Chapter Three – The Apartment
Their apartment sat just off campus, a narrow two-bedroom with thin walls and a couch that had seen better years. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs—a place where Friday nights ended with greasy pizza boxes and laughter echoing into the early hours.
Ethan dropped his duffel by the door with a heavy thud. Ryan bent down to untie his sneakers, leaving them neatly by the mat before flopping onto the couch.
“You hungry?” Ethan asked, tugging open the fridge.
“When am I not?” Ryan called back.
Ethan grinned and pulled out the leftover pizza from last night. He tossed a slice onto a plate and slid it into the microwave while grabbing one for himself. By the time he joined Ryan on the couch, Ryan had already commandeered the remote and was scrolling through their usual rotation—sports highlights for Ethan, indie movies for Ryan, and the occasional sitcom rerun they both secretly loved.
“Don’t even think about putting on football replays,” Ryan warned without looking up. “I just survived two hours of watching you crash into people. I need a break.”
Ethan smirked. “Fine. Your call.”
Ryan settled on some random action movie. They ate in silence at first, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty but comfortable, filled with the crackle of the TV and the clink of crust against plates.
Halfway through, Ryan shifted, stretching his legs across the couch until his calves rested against Ethan’s thigh. He did it casually, as if it meant nothing. But to Ethan, it was impossible to ignore—the warmth of Ryan’s body pressing lightly against him, the way his jeans brushed his skin.
“Hey,” Ryan said around a mouthful of pizza, “you ever think about how weird it is that we ended up living together? Like, out of everyone at this school, it just… made sense?”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been friends since middle school. Who else would I live with?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan said with a shrug. “Just feels lucky, I guess.”
Ethan’s chest tightened at the word. Lucky. That was one way to describe it. Another way was terrifying—because every day, Ethan fought the urge to cross that invisible line, to admit what Ryan really meant to him.
He leaned back, pretending to focus on the movie, though his eyes kept drifting to Ryan. His friend’s head rested against the back of the couch, his blond hair falling into his eyes, his lips curved in that faint half-smile he wore when he was relaxed.
Without thinking, Ethan shifted slightly closer. Not much. Just enough that their shoulders almost touched.
Ryan glanced at him, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Comfortable?”
Ethan swallowed. “Yeah. Just… tired.”
Ryan didn’t call him out, didn’t move away. Instead, he let his head tip sideways until it brushed lightly against Ethan’s shoulder.
The movie kept playing. Neither of them spoke. Ethan stared at the screen, but he couldn’t have said what was happening if his life depended on it. All he knew was the weight of Ryan’s head against him, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the dangerous thought looping in his mind:
Don’t move. Don’t ruin this.
For the first time in a long time, Ethan didn’t feel like the star athlete or the guy everyone expected him to be. He just felt… right.
Chapter Three – The Apartment (continued)
The credits rolled before either of them noticed. Ryan shifted slightly, his cheek brushing Ethan’s shoulder as he murmured, “Guess I missed half the movie.”
Ethan chuckled softly. “Yeah, me too.”
He could feel Ryan’s warmth seeping through his T-shirt, the faint rise and fall of his breath. His body screamed at him to stay perfectly still, afraid that even the smallest movement might break the spell.
Ryan yawned, lifting his head just enough to rub at his eyes. “Man… you’re like a pillow. A really solid, ridiculously muscular pillow.”
Ethan laughed, though his pulse jumped. “That’s one way to compliment someone.”
“Take it or leave it,” Ryan teased, but there was a softness in his tone that made Ethan’s chest ache.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the distant buzz of traffic outside. Ethan turned his head slightly, just enough that he could see Ryan out of the corner of his eye. His friend’s lashes were low, his lips curved faintly, like he was drifting on the edge of sleep.
The thought hit Ethan like a tackle: God, I want to kiss him.
It was sudden and sharp, though not new. The truth was, he’d wanted this for years—wanted it and buried it under layers of bravado and silence. But now, with Ryan leaning against him, so close he could count the freckles on his cheek, it felt impossible to ignore.
Ryan stirred, blinking up at him. Their eyes met, and Ethan’s breath caught. For a long, suspended second, it felt like the world narrowed to just the two of them.
Ryan didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in a fraction closer.
“Ethan…” he whispered, voice low and uncertain.
Ethan’s heart thundered. His hand twitched on the cushion between them, aching to close the distance. Just an inch. Just enough.
But fear rushed in, heavy and sharp. Fear of what this would mean, fear of losing Ryan, fear of the truth spilling into the open.
So he laughed it off instead, the sound tight in his throat. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me again, aren’t you?”
Ryan blinked, the moment shattering. He gave a small smile, pulling back just enough to stretch his arms. “Maybe. You’re too comfortable, man. It’s your fault.”
Ethan forced a grin, though inside, he felt hollow.
Ryan grabbed a pillow and tossed it against Ethan’s chest. “Wake me if I start drooling.” He curled up on the far end of the couch, his back to Ethan now, shoulders rising and falling in slow rhythm.
Ethan sat frozen, staring at the pillow in his lap. His hand gripped it tightly, jaw clenched, his chest a battlefield of relief and regret.
He wanted to reach out. He wanted to take back the moment he let slip through his fingers.
Instead, he whispered into the quiet, “Goodnight, Ry.”
Ryan didn’t answer—already drifting into sleep.
And Ethan was left with the weight of everything unsaid.
Chapter Four – Confession at Midnight
Ethan couldn’t sleep.
The apartment was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of Ryan’s breathing from the other end of the couch. Ethan lay staring at the ceiling, the glow from the streetlight outside carving faint lines across the room. His chest was heavy, too full of thoughts he couldn’t name.
Finally, he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He needed air.
Grabbing his keys, he slipped on a hoodie. But just as he reached for the door, Ryan stirred.
“Where you going?” Ryan’s voice was low, husky with sleep.
Ethan froze. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Just… needed a drive.”
Ryan pushed himself upright, rubbing his eyes. “At one in the morning?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Ethan admitted.
There was a pause, then Ryan stood, grabbing his own hoodie. “Wait up. I’m coming.”
The roads were empty, campus streets washed in the amber glow of lampposts. Ethan drove aimlessly, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming against his thigh. Ryan sat slouched in the passenger seat, hood up, eyes half-focused on the blur of buildings outside.
They didn’t talk for a while. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was thick—like both of them were waiting for the other to break it.
Finally, Ryan spoke, his voice barely above the hum of the engine. “You ever feel like you don’t fit the part you’re supposed to play?”
Ethan glanced over, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Ryan shrugged, staring out the window. “Like… everyone thinks they know who you are. They’ve got this picture in their head, this version of you they expect. And you play along, because it’s easier than explaining you’re not really that person. But then—” He trailed off, his hands twisting in his lap. “Then you look in the mirror and don’t even know which one’s real anymore.”
Ethan’s grip tightened on the wheel. The words landed too close, like Ryan had peeled open a piece of him he’d never shared.
“Yeah,” Ethan said quietly. “I get that.”
Ryan turned to him, eyes shadowed by the passing streetlights. “Do you? Because sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy. Like… I’ll be looking at someone, and I don’t know if I want to be them or…” He hesitated, jaw working. “…or if I just want them.”
The car felt smaller suddenly, the air thick. Ethan’s pulse spiked. He wanted to ask who. He wanted to say me? But the words caught in his throat.
Instead, he forced his voice steady. “That doesn’t make you crazy.”
Ryan gave a shaky laugh, but his eyes softened. “Maybe not. But it makes me feel… different. Like I don’t belong in the same lane as everyone else.”
Ethan swallowed hard, keeping his eyes on the road. “Maybe you’re just in your own lane.”
Ryan studied him for a long moment. “You always make it sound simple.”
Ethan risked a glance at him. Ryan’s face was open, vulnerable in a way Ethan had rarely seen. And for the first time, Ethan let himself think: Maybe he’s telling me. Maybe this is his way of saying he feels what I feel.
The thought was terrifying. And exhilarating.
Ryan leaned back in the seat, exhaling. “Thanks for the drive. I needed this.”
Ethan nodded, his chest a storm. “Yeah. Me too.”
They drove on in silence, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. This one buzzed with unspoken words, thick with the possibility of something neither of them was ready to say aloud.
Chapter Five – First Touch
Saturday morning bled into afternoon before either of them stirred. Ryan was sprawled half off the couch, one arm hanging limp, hair sticking out in every direction. Ethan sat at the kitchen table, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, though his mind wasn’t on the screen.
He kept hearing Ryan’s words from last night: I don’t know if I want to be them… or if I just want them.
It had lodged itself in Ethan’s chest like a spark waiting for oxygen.
Ryan groaned, pushing himself upright. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon,” Ethan said.
“Guess you let me win the sleeping contest.” Ryan shuffled to the fridge, grabbing the last slice of pizza. “Breakfast of champions.”
Ethan smirked. “You’re disgusting.”
Ryan winked, taking a big bite. “And yet, you still live with me.”
They fell into their usual rhythm—banter, easy laughter—but underneath, Ethan felt the shift. The air between them was charged in a way it hadn’t been before last night.
Later, they ended up back on the couch, video game controllers in hand. Ethan had crushed Ryan three matches in a row, and Ryan was getting theatrical about it.
“This is rigged,” Ryan declared, tossing his controller onto the cushion. “You’re cheating.”
“You’re just bad,” Ethan shot back, grinning.
Ryan lunged for him, tackling him sideways onto the couch. They wrestled like they had a hundred times before, laughter spilling out between mock grunts and half-hearted shoves.
But then—something changed.
Ryan’s hand caught Ethan’s wrist, pinning it to the cushion. Ethan twisted, and suddenly Ryan was half straddling him, their chests brushing with every breath. The laughter died, fading into silence.
Ethan’s heart pounded, heat rushing through him. He could feel the weight of Ryan’s body, the press of his thigh against his own.
Ryan froze too, his grip loosening but not pulling away. His blue-green eyes flicked up, locking with Ethan’s. For a moment, neither of them moved.
Ethan’s free hand twitched, brushing against Ryan’s. Not hard, not obvious—just enough for their fingers to graze. The contact was small, but it sent a jolt through him like an electric shock.
Ryan didn’t let go. Instead, his fingers lingered, curling ever so slightly around Ethan’s.
The world seemed to narrow, their breathing the only sound. Ethan could feel the heat rising in his neck, the words screaming inside him: This is it. This is real.
But then Ryan blinked, breaking the spell with a nervous laugh. He rolled off, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at Ethan. “Okay, okay, fine. You win. Again.”
Ethan sat up slowly, clutching the pillow to his chest. His skin still tingled where Ryan’s fingers had brushed his.
Ryan turned the TV back on, pretending nothing had happened. But his ears were pink, and he avoided Ethan’s gaze.
And Ethan knew—without a doubt—that something had shifted forever.
Chapter Six – The Kiss
The rest of the weekend passed in a haze of almosts. Almost brushing hands when they passed each other in the kitchen. Almost leaning too close on the couch. Almost saying the words that kept clawing at Ethan’s chest.
By Sunday night, Ethan couldn’t take it anymore.
He found Ryan out on the small balcony of their apartment, legs propped on the railing, hoodie zipped up against the cool night air. The glow of the streetlamps painted him in soft gold. He looked peaceful, but there was something restless in his posture, like his thoughts were running circles too.
Ethan slid the glass door shut behind him and leaned against the railing. “You’re quiet tonight.”
Ryan smirked faintly. “Guess I’m out of jokes.”
Ethan studied him, the curve of his jaw, the way his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. “That’s a first.”
Ryan’s smile wavered, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t easy this time—it was heavy, taut, strung between them like a wire ready to snap.
Finally, Ryan exhaled. “Ethan… can I ask you something?”
“Yeah. Anything.”
Ryan hesitated, eyes flicking away before meeting his again. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if… things were different? If we were different?”
Ethan’s pulse thundered. He swallowed hard. “Different how?”
Ryan’s voice dropped, almost a whisper. “Like… not just friends.”
The words hung in the air, trembling and raw. Ethan’s chest tightened so hard it hurt. He didn’t trust his voice, so he didn’t speak—he just stepped closer, close enough to see the flecks of green in Ryan’s blue eyes.
Ryan didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in, his breath catching. “Ethan…”
That was all it took.
Ethan’s hand lifted almost on its own, fingers brushing along Ryan’s jaw, tentative, searching. Ryan’s eyes fluttered shut, and in that heartbeat, the last wall crumbled.
Their lips met—soft, hesitant, like they were both afraid to breathe.
For a second, the world went quiet. No traffic, no campus noise, no expectations. Just the warmth of Ryan’s mouth, the dizzy rush of finally crossing the line they’d both danced around for years.
Ryan’s hand rose, gripping the front of Ethan’s hoodie, holding him there. The kiss deepened just slightly, still unsure, still trembling, but real. So real.
When they finally broke apart, Ryan rested his forehead against Ethan’s, his breath unsteady. “So… that just happened.”
Ethan gave a shaky laugh, his heart still racing. “Yeah. Guess it did.”
They stayed like that for a moment—close enough that the air between them was charged, but not enough to erase the sweetness of what had just passed.
Ryan’s voice was soft when he spoke again. “I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I’ll admit.”
Ethan closed his eyes, relief crashing over him like a wave. “Me too.”
And for the first time, the truth didn’t feel like something to fear.
Chapter Seven – Fallout
Ethan woke up the next morning with sunlight spilling across his bed. For a moment, the memory of last night washed over him like a dream—Ryan on the balcony, the way his lips had felt, the quiet confession between them.
And then the fear hit.
What if Ryan regretted it? What if it was just the heat of the moment? What if it ruined everything they’d built?
The sound of pans clattering in the kitchen pulled him from his spiral. He found Ryan at the stove, hair messy, wearing one of Ethan’s old T-shirts that hung loose on his frame. He was flipping pancakes like nothing had changed.
“Morning,” Ryan said, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “You actually slept in later than me. Historic.”
Ethan managed a small smile. “Yeah, guess I needed it.”
They ate at the table, syrup dripping onto mismatched plates. The conversation was normal—classes, practice schedules, a dumb video Ryan had seen online. But underneath it, Ethan felt the tension pulling at him, stretching tighter with every word unspoken.
Finally, Ryan set his fork down, eyes searching Ethan’s. “So… about last night.”
Ethan froze. His chest clenched, words tangling in his throat. He wanted to say it was real, I meant it, I want more. But the fear won out.
He shrugged, forcing a laugh. “Yeah… we were tired. Caught up in the moment, I guess.”
The light in Ryan’s expression dimmed, just slightly, like a candle flickering in the wind. He looked down at his plate. “Right. Just the moment.”
The silence that followed was louder than anything.
Practice that afternoon was brutal. Ethan couldn’t focus—missed passes, sloppy footwork, his coach barking at him from the sideline. Every mistake gnawed at him, but all he could see was the look on Ryan’s face when he’d brushed the kiss aside.
By the time he got back to the apartment, Ryan wasn’t there. His room was empty, bed neatly made. A note sat on the counter:
At the library. Don’t wait up.
Ethan stared at the paper, guilt clawing at him. He’d hurt Ryan, and worse—he’d hurt himself. Because the truth was, that kiss hadn’t been a mistake. It had been the most right thing he’d felt in years.
And now he was too afraid to claim it.
Chapter Eight – Breaking Point
The next two days felt like walking on a fault line.
Ethan and Ryan spoke when they had to—about food, practice, homework—but everything else sat heavy and unspoken between them. The easy rhythm that had once defined their friendship was gone, replaced by short answers and long silences.
By Wednesday night, Ethan couldn’t stand it anymore. He came back from practice, sore and drained, only to find Ryan at the kitchen table, sketchbook open, headphones in.
“Hey,” Ethan said.
Ryan looked up, tugging one earbud free. “Hey.”
That was it. No grin, no joke. Just a flat word, like Ethan was a stranger.
The knot in Ethan’s chest tightened. He dropped his bag harder than he meant to. “We’re really doing this? Pretending nothing’s wrong?”
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “You’re the one who wanted to pretend.”
Ethan flinched. “That’s not—” He stopped, dragging a hand through his hair. “I just… I didn’t know what to say.”
Ryan closed his sketchbook with a snap. “You didn’t want to say anything. You kissed me, Ethan. And then you acted like it meant nothing.”
The words landed like a punch. “It wasn’t nothing.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Ryan shot back. His voice cracked, sharp edges covering something more fragile. “Do you have any idea what that did? I finally let myself—” He stopped, shaking his head, eyes blazing. “Forget it.”
“No,” Ethan said, stepping forward, desperate. “Don’t shut me out. I was scared, okay? I still am. You think it’s easy for me? I’ve spent years being the guy everyone expects. The jock. The straight one. And then you—” His voice broke. “You make me want something I don’t know how to admit.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “You don’t have to admit anything. But don’t kiss me like you mean it and then act like you don’t.”
The silence after was brutal. Ethan’s chest heaved, Ryan’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
Finally, Ryan shook his head and grabbed his hoodie. “I can’t do this right now.”
Ethan’s heart lurched. “Where are you going?”
“The pool,” Ryan said, already halfway out the door. “At least the water doesn’t lie.”
The door slammed shut, and Ethan stood frozen in the empty apartment, every muscle screaming with the weight of what he couldn’t say.
Chapter Nine – The Return
The apartment felt unbearably empty after Ryan left. Ethan tried to distract himself—showering, scrolling through his phone, even cracking open a textbook—but nothing stuck. His mind kept circling the same truth: I screwed this up. Again.
By midnight, he couldn’t sit still anymore. He threw on a hoodie and headed out, feet carrying him to the one place that always cleared his head.
The football field was dark, stadium lights long since shut off. Ethan climbed the bleachers anyway, sitting near the top, staring at the silent turf below. Out here, without the roar of the crowd, it all looked smaller. Less important.
His phone buzzed once, then again. Ryan.
Where are you?
Please don’t ignore me.
Ethan hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Before he could type a reply, footsteps echoed on the metal steps of the bleachers.
“Figures you’d be here,” Ryan said, breathless, his hoodie zipped up tight against the night air. His hair was damp, smelling faintly of chlorine.
Ethan’s chest twisted. “Didn’t think you’d come.”
Ryan sat a few rows below him, leaving space between them. His voice was soft. “I almost didn’t.”
The silence stretched. Ethan stared at his hands, knuckles white where they clenched together. Finally, he said, “I messed up.”
Ryan looked at him, but didn’t speak.
“I was scared,” Ethan continued, his voice rough. “Not of you. Of what it means. Of how everyone else would see me if they knew.” He swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “But none of that matters when it’s you. You’re the only thing that feels real.”
Ryan’s expression softened, but his voice held a tremor. “Then why’d you push me away?”
“Because I thought if I ignored it, maybe it would go away,” Ethan admitted. “But it didn’t. It just made me miserable. And it hurt you. Which is the last thing I ever wanted.”
For a long moment, Ryan didn’t move. Then, slowly, he climbed the steps until he was sitting right beside Ethan.
“You’re an idiot,” Ryan said, but there was no heat in his voice.
Ethan let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. I know.”
Ryan studied him, eyes flicking down to his lips, then back up. “So… what now?”
Ethan turned, heart pounding. “Now… I stop running from it.”
Before he could lose his nerve, Ethan leaned in. This time, the kiss wasn’t hesitant—it was certain. Fierce. Ryan met him halfway, hands gripping the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer.
All the fear, the silence, the doubt—it burned away in the heat of that kiss. This wasn’t a mistake. This wasn’t confusion. This was them.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Ryan pressed his forehead against Ethan’s. “Don’t take it back this time.”
Ethan’s voice was steady. “I won’t.”
For the first time, he knew it was true.
Chapter Ten – New Game, New Rules
Monday morning came too fast. Ethan lay awake staring at the ceiling, Ryan’s even breathing steady beside him. The kiss from last night still lingered on his lips, warm and real. For once, instead of dread, he felt… calm.
He turned his head slightly. Ryan had shifted in his sleep, his arm thrown carelessly across Ethan’s chest. It was messy, awkward, nothing like the perfect romances Ethan had seen in movies. And yet it felt perfect.
Ryan stirred, blinking blearily. “You’re staring.”
“Guilty,” Ethan murmured.
Ryan smirked, his voice rough with sleep. “Get used to it. I’m prettier in the morning.”
Ethan laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks. “Debatable.”
They lay there for a while, neither rushing to get up. For the first time since everything started, the silence between them wasn’t heavy—it was easy. Safe.
Later, after class and practice, they found themselves back at the football field. This time the stadium wasn’t empty—teammates were scattered across the turf, tossing balls, stretching, joking around. Ethan felt Ryan’s shoulder brush his as they walked in together, and the jolt of awareness was immediate.
Nobody knew. Nobody could know. Not yet.
Ryan seemed to sense it too. He gave Ethan a small, crooked smile, almost reassuring. The kind that said: I’ve got you, even here.
Coach barked orders, and soon Ethan was running drills, sweat stinging his eyes. But something had changed—his movements felt lighter, sharper. Like he wasn’t carrying as much weight anymore.
After practice, as the sun dipped low and the field cleared out, Ryan lingered by the locker room door. “So… where does this leave us?”
Ethan wiped the towel across his face, heart thudding. “Us?”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb.”
Ethan dropped the towel, stepping closer. “It leaves us right here. Together. Even if nobody else knows yet.”
Ryan studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “New game, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “New game. New rules.”
Ryan’s grin broke wide, bright and unguarded. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you bench me this time.”
They laughed, the sound echoing against the empty bleachers. And when Ryan’s hand brushed Ethan’s on the way out, neither of them pulled away.
Epilogue
It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easy. There were questions still unanswered, conversations still ahead of them. But for now—for tonight—Ethan knew one thing with absolute certainty:
Whatever came next, they’d face it side by side.
And that was enough.
Chapter Ten – New Game, New Rules
Monday morning came too fast. Ethan lay awake staring at the ceiling, Ryan’s even breathing steady beside him. The kiss from last night still lingered on his lips, warm and real. For once, instead of dread, he felt… calm.
He turned his head slightly. Ryan had shifted in his sleep, his arm thrown carelessly across Ethan’s chest. It was messy, awkward, nothing like the perfect romances Ethan had seen in movies. And yet it felt perfect.
Ryan stirred, blinking blearily. “You’re staring.”
“Guilty,” Ethan murmured.
Ryan smirked, his voice rough with sleep. “Get used to it. I’m prettier in the morning.”
Ethan laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks. “Debatable.”
They lay there for a while, neither rushing to get up. For the first time since everything started, the silence between them wasn’t heavy—it was easy. Safe.
Later, after class and practice, they found themselves back at the football field. This time the stadium wasn’t empty—teammates were scattered across the turf, tossing balls, stretching, joking around. Ethan felt Ryan’s shoulder brush his as they walked in together, and the jolt of awareness was immediate.
Nobody knew. Nobody could know. Not yet.
Ryan seemed to sense it too. He gave Ethan a small, crooked smile, almost reassuring. The kind that said: I’ve got you, even here.
Coach barked orders, and soon Ethan was running drills, sweat stinging his eyes. But something had changed—his movements felt lighter, sharper. Like he wasn’t carrying as much weight anymore.
After practice, as the sun dipped low and the field cleared out, Ryan lingered by the locker room door. “So… where does this leave us?”
Ethan wiped the towel across his face, heart thudding. “Us?”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb.”
Ethan dropped the towel, stepping closer. “It leaves us right here. Together. Even if nobody else knows yet.”
Ryan studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “New game, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “New game. New rules.”
Ryan’s grin broke wide, bright and unguarded. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you bench me this time.”
They laughed, the sound echoing against the empty bleachers. And when Ryan’s hand brushed Ethan’s on the way out, neither of them pulled away.
Epilogue
It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easy. There were questions still unanswered, conversations still ahead of them. But for now—for tonight—Ethan knew one thing with absolute certainty:
Whatever came next, they’d face it side by side.
And that was enough.
That’s the end of Book One: their journey from best friends to something more, from confusion and fear to truth and hope.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Substack.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
