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Fucking freaks.
He wanted to yell it. Say it out loud. Throw open the locker room door and declare to every journalist with a notepad and mic, “Will Smith fucks Macklin Celebrini on game days, even when they lose!” Loud enough for every assistant coach and sportsnet segment to hear.
But he didn’t. Because Gabe was a sweet boy, remember?
And sweet boys didn’t say that shit.
Sweet boys didn’t lose their minds over an old fling.
Sweet boys didn’t burn inside when the person who used to kiss them like a secret now kissed someone else like a promise.
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Or Gabe needs a rebound.
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perrempe
Fucking freaks.
He wanted to yell it. Say it out loud. Throw open the locker room door and declare to every journalist with a notepad and mic, “Will Smith fucks Macklin Celebrini on game days, even when they lose!” Loud enough for every assistant coach and sportsnet segment to hear.
But he didn’t. Because Gabe was a sweet boy, remember?
And sweet boys didn’t say that shit.
Sweet boys didn’t lose their minds over an old fling.
Sweet boys didn’t burn inside when the person who used to kiss them like a secret now kissed someone else like a promise.
-------
Or Gabe needs a rebound.
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Bookmark Notes:
“I’ve had people take things back before,” Gabe said. “Things I thought were real.”
Matt’s face softened. “I’m not one of them.”
Gabe looked up again, studied the sleep-creased corner of Matt’s mouth, the softness around his eyes. It would’ve been easier to brush it off with a joke, but he didn’t want to. Not this time.
“I’m trying to believe that.”
Matt smiled—gentle, crooked. “Then believe it. One day at a time, if that’s what it takes.”
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