Page 76 of Contested

“So…” Marcos brought his hands together and picked at the skin around his fingernails. “So, you’re…gay?”

Sebastian’s heart jumped at the word.

He was. He had known that for a long time. Long enough that the word itself was not new or strange. It fit him. It had fit before he was ready for it, and it still fit now, even when hearing Marcos say it across the kitchen counter made his whole body tense.

He had gone to gay bars. Hooked up with guys. Let strangers put their mouths on him, their hands on him, their attention over him in rooms that belonged to a different part of his life. It had always felt separate. A clean divide between the Sebastian who could want openly for a few hours and the Sebastian who walked back into football the next morning with every door shut properly behind him.

Marcos was not from that life.

Marcos was centre bounces, review rooms, shower tiles at the club, and a rivalry that had followed Sebastian from junior grounds to professional contracts. Marcos belonged to the life Sebastian had spent years keeping separate from this part of himself, and now he was sitting at Sebastian’s counter with the word ‘gay’ in his mouth and his hands worrying at his own skin.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, taking his weight off the counter. “Uh, yeah.”

Marcos nodded, his fingers still working at his skin. “I don’t think I am.”

Sebastian waited, watching Marcos closely. His lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air, but he forced his breathing to stay even.

“I like women,” Marcos continued, his voice going quieter. “But I…like you, too.”

The words hit Sebastian harder than he expected. He adjusted his weight, shifting it from one foot to another, before shifting it back because nothing felt quite comfortable.

“You think you’re bi?” Sebastian asked.

Marcos stared at his hands. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Sebastian walked around the counter slowly and stood next to him. He placed a hand on Marcos’ back, high between his shoulder blades, and felt the tension there before Marcos eased into the touch by the smallest amount. “You don’t have to.”

Marcos stared at the counter. “Sorry I freaked out last time I was here.”

“It’s cool. If you didn’t go home and get blackout drunk after, then you did better than I did the first time.”

Marcos glanced up. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian exhaled sharply through his nose. “Though, my first time wasn’t with someone as hot as me, so…”

Marcos laughed, spinning in his chair to face Sebastian, bringing his forehead into Sebastian’s chest. “You think pretty highly of yourself.”

“Yeah, well, someone has to.”

The joke came out easily enough, but it caught somewhere after. He felt Marcos shift, and his forehead lifted from Sebastian’s chest and his eyes came up.

“I think moderately of you.”

Sebastian felt his stomach trying to pull his heart down as he stared at Marcos, hearing the lightness in his voice despite the heaviness in the air.

“I can work with that,” Sebastian muttered, bringing his lips to Marcos’.

The kiss started softly because neither of them seemed ready for anything else. Marcos’ mouth met his without hesitation, but the pressure stayed light, almost careful. Sebastian let his hand move from Marcos’ back to the side of his neck, thumb settling near his jaw.

They moved with each other gently, letting the moment sit soft at the edges. Marcos’ legs widened a little, and Sebastian slid between them.

Marcos was the first to pull away, his hand tracing between the buttons on Sebastian’s shirt.

“I want to try it again,” he murmured, and Sebastian’s breath caught. “More of it.”

For a second, Sebastian couldn’t move, and he felt his skin tighten beneath his clothes before he forced himself back into the moment.

“Wild guess, you’re not talking about the grilled cheese,” Sebastian joked, and he felt Marcos’ shoulders jolt in what he assumed was a laugh. “Are you sure?”