Page 94 of Contested

Which might have been the problem.

On-field, everything between Marcos and Sebastian had started making more sense. Off-field, it kept shifting under Marcos’ feet.

Sebastian had been coming to training with more focus. More than usual, even for him. Marcos hadn’t asked if something was going on, but he had felt the slight pull from him. Fewer looks his way. Fewer gentle touches in the gym. Less of the small, private amusement that had started to build between them after their night together. Sebastian still spoke to him when they needed to work through a drill or review a passage of play, but anything outside of that had become thinner.

Not gone, which was the part that kept catching Marcos.

Sebastian could avoid him all morning, then stand too close during a stoppage reset. He could go cold through an entire weights session, then let his fingers brush Marcos’ hand when passing him a bottle.

They had barely spoken properly through the two weeks before Sebastian had invited him over. It had been after a long day of centre drills, the kind Jacob liked because everyone hated them. By the end, the rest of the centre group had already hit the showers, but Marcos and Sebastian had stayed on the oval, running the same tap pattern until it finally landed exactly where it was supposed to.

When they left the field, it had been the first time they’d been alone together since the night at Sebastian’s apartment.

Marcos had suggested they exchange phone numbers. Sebastian had agreed, then he had invited Marcos over.

Marcos had been happy to see him outside the club again. Happier than he had admitted to himself on the drive over. He wanted the more relaxed version of Sebastian, the one who didn’t seem to be holding himself in a different shape, the one who could lean against his own counter and smirk like he wasn’t holding something back.

But something was still off. Marcos couldn’t pin it down, and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

“Here you go,” Sebastian said, pushing a plate in front of Marcos.

Marcos stared at it. The plate had small, dark cubes of beef sitting on wilted greens, the edges crisped and glossy in a dark sauce.

“What is this?” he asked, pushing it around with his fork.

“Bò lúc lắc,” Sebastian answered, coming to sit next to Marcos. “It’s beef. And other stuff.”

Marcos took a bite while Sebastian watched him. “It’s good.”

Sebastian didn’t comment and focused on his own plate.

Marcos kept his eyes on him, flexing his jaw once, before continuing to eat.

They sat in silence, the apartment holding it too easily.

The quiet here always hit differently from the quiet at Marcos’ house. At home, silence was something passing between noise. A pause before Becca yelled from another room or Diana called out in Spanish or Paula stomped on the floor to get his attention. Here, silence stayed where it was put. It sat over the kitchen and the living room, over the black television screen and the dark windows beyond it, and it made every scrape of cutlery sound larger than it was.

Sebastian ate like he wasn’t bothered by it.

Once they finished eating, he got up without a word and grabbed both plates, walking to the dishwasher.

Marcos sighed. “Okay, I feel like there’s something wrong.”

Sebastian’s eyes snapped up, and he rolled his shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay,” Marcos said slowly, getting to his feet. “It’s just I’ve kinda been trying to wrap my head around…this.” Marcos gestured between himself and Sebastian. “You know, I spent my whole life thinking I only liked women. Then we had sex, and you’ve been…on and off.”

“Right.” Sebastian clicked his tongue. “Like how you bolted from here after I sucked your dick after you came here and kissed me?”

“Okay, what the fuck?” Marcos took a step back, his shoulders rising.

It was too fast. Too sharp. The words hit with a force he hadn’t braced for because he had thought they were finally speaking about the same thing. He could feel his own body answer before his head did, shoulders tightening, hands lifting slightly away from his sides.

Sebastian didn’t look proud of saying it.

That somehow made it worse.

“If I’m on and off. Why don’t you just go and sleep with a chick?” Sebastian shifted to the side of the counter. “That’s easier, right? Less of a joke.”