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Thursday afternoons are long for Ferid, but he doesn’t mind it. Not one bit. Not if it means spending quality time with his cute little nephew.
He parks his car in the front row of the school and waits, as usual, tapping his fingernails along the steering wheel in time with the pop music spilling out of the stereo. The school is mostly empty now, apart from the sports teams and his nephew sitting dutifully in the stands, watching his boyfriend sweat as he runs up and down the soccer field.
Ferid chuckles to himself. As much as Mika detests Ferid prying into his personal life, he had no qualms about asking for his advice when it came to securing a relationship with his long-time childhood best friend. The fact that Ferid has to come to school later to pick Mika up on the days Yuu as soccer practice is a testament to his success and proficiency as a love guru. Now, if only Mika would allow Ferid to give him sex advice without turning into a stammering mess; then their relationship would be perfect.
Ferid glances at the clock. 5:14.
Odd. Mika usually comes out by now, bringing that thick-headed boyfriend of his in tow. Ferid hums, contemplating for just a few seconds more, before turning the ignition off.
He’s always wanted an excuse to poke around Mika’s school. And really, now he doesn’t have a choice but to go exploring for his nephew’s whereabouts.
The heels of Ferid’s boots click along the concrete as he walks, echoing amongst the tall, empty school buildings. The soccer field comes into view soon enough, green and artificial, bleachers lining the perimeter.
Only one spectator resides in the stands today. Ferid smirks to himself when he spots him.
As quietly as he can manage, Ferid creeps his way up the bleachers, careful to keep his heels from rattling against the metal. It’s not as if Mika is paying attention to him anyway; he is transfixed, eyes dopey and lovestruck, as he watches Yuu practice down below. He doesn’t even notice Ferid leaning in just behind his shoulder.
“You are quite the dedicated fan, Mika-kun,” Ferid whispers into his ear.
Mika startles with a gasp, and he whips around just as Ferid leans back. He rubs his hand against his ear and scowls.
“Damn it, Ferid,” he sighs. “You scared the hell out of me! What are you even doing here?”
“Oh my,” Ferid says. He puts a hand against his chest, face schooled into innocence. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright. It’s just that you were 15 minutes late and I was concerned that Yuu-chan might be accosting you in some janitor’s closet somewhere.”
Mika’s face flames. “W-what?!? Ew, stop saying shit like that!” Mika checks his phone, and the embarrassment falls from his face. “Ah, I didn’t even realize the time. I’m sorry.”
Ferid waves his hand with a laugh. “Oh, don’t even worry about it. I am inspired by your level of dedication.”
Ferid attempts to ruffle Mika’s hair. Mika dodges him, mouth twisting with disgust. Ferid laughs again.
“Really, Mika-kun,” Ferid coos. “If only you would show the same level of dedication in the bedroom—”
The shrill screech of a whistle halts Ferid’s lewd comment right in its tracks, much to Mika’s relief. Both of their attentions are drawn to the field. Yuu comes running from centerfield, thoroughly out of breath and red-faced, and runs right up to— oh.
Mika has certainly never told him about this. A devious smile rises to Ferid’s lips.
He had no idea about the true star of this spectacle.
“Coach!” Yuu cries. He skids to a halt and braces his hands on his knees, smiling despite panting for oxygen. “How was my time?”
Coach. Ferid mouths the word to himself.
Yuu’s coach is tall and broad-shouldered, a regular mountain of a man. His grey t-shirt clings to the swell of muscles on his shoulder and back like a second skin, a light sheen of sweat just beginning to seep through. His hair falls in a long braid between his shoulder blades. A little further down, Ferid spots the real prize: a pair of tiny red gym shorts and a fantastically sculpted ass.
Ferid licks his lips.
Well, now. His Thursdays have become much more exciting.
“Mika-kun,” Ferid says. “Why have you never introduced me to...your dear Yuu-chan’s coach?”
Mika looks at him and furrows his brow. “Coach Crowley? Why would you want to meet him?”
Ferid watches as Crowley lifts a hand and pats Yuu on the head encouragingly. His biceps ripple with just the simple movement, glistening in the afternoon sun.
“Oh, no reason.”
“I guess you could meet him now,” Mika murmurs as he swings his backpack onto his shoulder. He points a finger into Ferid’s face. “But don’t say anything weird to Yuu-chan!”
“Who, me? ” Ferid asks, scandalized.
Mika blinks. He sighs. “Just. Follow me.”
The two meander their way toward the field, and Yuu looks up as they approach. He only has eyes for Mika, and Ferid chuckles when he runs right past him to grab Mika’s hands.
“Mika, did you see me?” Yuu asks, eyes sparkling. “Coach said it was my fastest time yet!”
“You were very impressive today, Yuu-chan,” Mika praises. Yuu blushes and smiles wider.
Ferid watches them, amused. It is alright. After all, he only has eyes for one other person at the moment, anyway.
“Coach Crowley, was it?” Ferid asks. “A pleasure to meet you.”
At the sound of his name, Crowley turns, raising an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. That’s me.”
Ferid has to make a conscious effort to remain blank-faced as he approaches. Crowley towers over him, and he looks down at Ferid with a curious expression. Ferid is eye level with the swell of his pecs. He shivers pleasantly, aching to reach out and touch.
“I don’t think I got your name,” Crowley says. “Mr...?”
“Oh, just call me Ferid. There is no need for pleasantries.”
Crowley tilts his head, smile rising to his lips. “Right. Ferid.”
He holds out his hand, and Ferid accepts the offer. His hands are huge .
“So,” Crowley says once he lets go. “Are you Mika’s dad?”
“Uncle,” Ferid corrects. He turns, and Mika is busy making heart-eyes at Yuu. “He’s been living with me for quite some time.”
“I see,” Crowley says. “Well, it’s sweet how he’s always here for Yuu’s practices. I can really tell that Yuu tries harder when he knows that Mika is watching.”
Ferid hums. “I agree. Sometimes an audience is all that you need to really keep your stamina from waning.”
“...I guess?”
“So tell me,” Ferid purrs. He talks another step forward. Crowley holds his ground, but his posture tenses. “Do you only coach, or does my sweet little nephew also have the pleasure of seeing you in action?”
Crowley blinks, once. “Ah. Well, I also teach gym class. Mika is actually one of the fastest in his age group.”
Ferid nods, but he has stopped listening. He never thought he would feel envious of his own nephew, but it truly isn’t fair that Mika gets to see this specimen up close and personal on a daily basis.
Ferid can’t help himself anymore. He reaches out and loops his finger around the whistle hanging against Crowley’s chest. Crowley flinches, but he doesn’t say anything as Ferid draws it away from his body.
“This is quite an impressive whistle you’ve got,” Ferid appraises. He looks up at Crowley from beneath his lashes, mouth splitting into a grin. “Would you let me blow it some time, Coach?”
Crowley is silent but steadily going red for a few moments. Ferid toys with the whistle between his fingertips in the lull, expression coy and teasing. Crowley draws a careful breath.
“....are you flirting with me?”
Ferid laughs and claps his hands together. “Oh, I was so hoping that you would catch on! Thank you for realizing. My self-esteem was really about to take a hit.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Crowley mutters with a smile. He catches himself and schools his expression back into neutrality. The flush on his nose refuses to abate. “Look, it’s....against school policy for teachers to get involved with the parents of students.”
“But haven’t we already discussed that?” Ferid asks. He yanks on the whistle until Crowley has no choice but to bend down, face just centimeters away from Ferid’s. “I’m not Mika’s parent, now am I?”
Ferid delights in the way Crowley’s eyes flicker to his lips, just for a moment, and Ferid would close the distance right here and now if he didn’t think he would get an earful from Mika the whole car ride home.
Crowley clears his throat and, gently, removes Ferid’s hands from his whistle. He stands back to his full height, eyes never leaving Ferid’s. The gears turning in his brain are almost loud enough to be heard.
At last, he decides to speak. “I think it would be best for you to take Mika and Yuu home. It’s getting late.” He swallows, and Ferid watches the bob of his throat. “I’ll see you around, Ferid.”
The way Crowley says his name lances a stab of desire right into Ferid’s core, and the effort it takes not to pounce on him then and there is herculean. Somehow, he only levels Crowley with a smirk and turns on his heel, waving from over his shoulder.
“I’ll see you around, Coach.”
Mika watches his approach with suspicion, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “What was all that about?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Ferid coos. “I was just thinking...”
Ferid turns back, just in time to see Crowley bending over to collect a mesh net of soccer balls. His heart hammers.
“....perhaps I should start coming to watch these practices, too.”
Yuu draws a long sip from his water bottle and cocks his head. “Eh? You want to watch me practice, too? Why?”
Mika groans and grabs Yuu by the arm, leading him toward the parking lot. “Don’t bother yourself with him, Yuu-chan. He’s just a pervert.”
Ferid laughs to himself and follows after them, allowing himself one last look at the heavenly sight behind his shoulder.
A pervert indeed.
At this rate, Thursdays may become his favorite day of all.