Page 57 of Cross the Line

“They’re both white and both things you’d like to stuff your mouth wi?—”

“I hate you and I’m never telling you anything again,” Alec snaps, slapping his hand over Antonio’s mouth. It silences him long enough for the coach to start his post-game speech, where he congratulates them on their win then reminds them it means nothing unless they keep it up.

“That’s not true and you know it.” Antonio smirks.

“Quiet down,” the coach yells, saving Alec from responding.

The euphoria of winning quickly dwindles as the coach reminds them what is at stake. His eyes find Antonio and Alec, reminding them that the players hoping to make it to the MLS need a game like today every game. No pressure, they just need to be perfect for every game, every three days, for the next four months straight. It’s not that Alec needs to study or relax or anything. He can totally afford to spend every waking moment following the meal plan and training.

The worst part is the way Antonio beams. If anyone was made for the big leagues, it's him. He thrives under pressure, he lives and breathes soccer in a different way. He lives for it all, wants nothing more than to make it to the MLS and make his family proud. Where Alec loves the game, everything that comes along with their level chips away at his passion. Sometimes he wonders what will happen when there’s nothing left.

Times like this remind Alec why he’s never told anyone about the anxiety that claws its way into his chest when he stops moving. He’s worked his entire life for this, it’s the game he loves and he’s playing with one of his best friends. He should be happy. So why is it the second he steps off that field he feels like he’s suffocating?

Alec takes the fastest shower of his life, not even bothering with his normal hair care routine. His curls are going to look stupid and tangled, but he can’t be bothered spending twenty extra minutes doing his normal post-shower ritual when Theo is out there waiting for him. At least he hopes he’s out there. When he’d checked his phone after returning to the locker room, he found a text from Jason congratulating him on the win and telling him to meet him outside. Since Jason and Theo are basically a matched set, if Jason is waiting for him, then so is Theo. Probably.

On second thought, maybe he does have time for his hair, which is giving drowned rat at the moment. He towel dries it as much as he can, spending a few minutes adding in his leave-in conditioner and curl shaper before giving it a few scrunches. Ultimately he decides this will have to be good enough. If he spends too long they might get bored and leave, and while Alec wouldn’t blame them he would definitely, privately, get his feelings hurt.

Affording himself one final look in the mirror, he decides he can handle this damp, haphazard thing his hair has going on. He might be a little, or a lot, vain about his hair, but he also is confident enough to rock whatever the fuck he’s got going on right now with confidence. Deciding to go for broke, he chooses his tightest, thinnest pair of sweats and then throws his team hoodie on last.

Despite his intentions to be quick, by the time he’s leaving the locker room Antonio has taken off to FaceTime his fiance and the majority of the team is long gone. Even the stadium is mostly empty, except for a few jersey chasers. He fights back a frown, trying not to think too hard about the way some of them sneak photos of him in the dining hall or during training. He pulls his hood up and slinks along the fence, hoping they won’t see him.

With his head down and his gaze on the ground, he doesn’t see the wall he walks into, one with a stupidly familiar face.

“Why does it feel like you keep growing?” Alec grumbles, unsure why all his brothers are so big while he stopped in ninth grade.

“What can I say? I’m perfect.” Jason grins, throwing his arms around Alec in a bone-crushing hug.

“Fuck you.” Alec returns the hug with equal force. Jason might be a pain in the ass, but Alec loves him and he’s currently far more emotional than he wants to be about having someone finally come see him play again. It’s his own fault for telling everyone he didn’t need them to watch, but he’d always hoped someone might realize he was giving them a way out, that he was lying to make things easier on them.

“You guys were on fire! Cal Poly never stood a chance.” Jason claps him on the back. The praise makes Alec stand taller. Growing up, his older brothers were his heroes and even now, hearing them be proud of him scratches an itch he tries really hard to ignore.

“Of course we were, I was there.” Alec smirks, taking a step back.

Part of him doesn’t want to look around to see if Theo is here, but he can’t stop himself from letting his eyes wander, heart lodging itself in his throat when he finds Theo hovering a step behind Jason with a soft smile on his face.

“You played really well, Alec.”

That praise scratches an entirely different itch. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Oh, no cockiness for him, huh? I see how it is.” Jason laughs.

He doesn’t, he really doesn’t, but that’s probably a good thing.

Alec plays with a loose curl at his temple. “Thanks for coming, Theodore.”

“I am literally standing right here,” Jason says. “Aren’t you glad I came?”

“I have to look at your ugly mug all the time.” Alec shrugs, unsure why the prospect of simply admitting how much he misses any of his brothers is worse than pulling teeth.

“What about this ugly mug?” Jason asks, wrapping an arm around Theo’s shoulders and squeezing his jaw. Theo slaps at him, laughing at Jason’s antics. Sometimes the two of them act more like teenagers than two men about to turn thirty. Idiots, both of them. The one upside to them being fools is that it gives Alec a moment to fully take Theo in, from the fit of his pale, worn jeans to his obscenely thin white t-shirt that hugs every inch of his masculine body, showing off light chest hair and the faintest swell of his tummy and pecs. It’s been years since Alec saw Theo’s body without a sweater covering it up, and the reminder of all of Theo’s strong, thick features makes Alec wish he’d chosen looser sweatpants.

“Theo’s definitely not ugly,” Alec mumbles.

“Fine, fine. I see how it is. Theo is the favorite. Why am I surprised after all these years?”

Alec’s entire body flushes but before he can deflect the conversation Theo is speaking.

“What does that mean?”

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