Chapter Text
Dom was standing in the goal, bored out of his mind while the midfielders were being lectured when it all started. As the midfielders broke, Dom readied himself for the play to come down the practice field. The side door opened and Dom paid it no attention, keeping his eyes trained on the ball. Whoever entered walked behind the goal and over to the assistant coach, talking quietly.
“Hey, Dominic,” Coach Vale caught his attention. Stupidly, Dom looked away from the field. In all fairness, he had every intention of looking back as quickly as possible. This, unfortunately, did not happen because upon looking over his eyes fell on one Kele Greenwood. As a junior and the better of the two Varsity goalies, he had heard the name come up in conversations. There had been some talk about pulling a sophomore up to varsity on account of his frankly impeccable record and athleticism, and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a wrestling singlet and basketball shorts, said singlet hanging down instead of on like a shirt. His tanned skin and high, strong cheekbones indicated Native American descent, and his toned chest and abs indicated his athletic abilities. Kele turned to look at Dom, following coach Vale’s gaze. Dom stared openly at Kele, entranced by what he saw. His sleek black hair was long enough to be pulled into a messy bun on the top of his head. Kele’s dark eyes met his and he noted hooded eyelids and thick, serious eyebrows. His nose was straight and sharp, leading to an exaggerated cupid’s bow and gorgeously full lips. His chin was cleft and chiseled, with a jawline Dom would die for. He would have looked further and continued undressing Kele with his eyes, but the play had reached the goal and a douchebag senior who recognized that Dom wasn’t paying attention kicked the ball anyway, aiming low. The ball hit its intended target, causing Dom to tear his eyes away from Kele in favor of dropping to his knees in pain.
“Shit!” he yelled, throwing his gloves away to cup his balls. Great. Now he looked stupid in front of a cute boy.
“Goddamn it, kid, pay attention,” Coach Nightly lectured from the sidelines. Dom immediately looked back over in coach Vale’s direction, seeing as it was his fault this happened in the first place. Kele looked concerned, wincing in secondhand pain.
“What’s the matter, Dom?” the senior who kicked the ball taunted, “did my shot kill your little gay boner for the newbie?” There was no way for Kele not to have heard that. Dom stared resolutely at the opposite goal.
“Fuck you, man.” He gritted out. “At least I can get it up.” As one of the only openly gay kids in school, news traveled fast to him. People assumed he wanted in on the latest gossip and boy talk. They were right. In reaction to his comment, Brady immediately started coming at him which, in retrospect, Dom should have seen coming. To his surprise, it was Kele who stepped in front of him.
“Uh, hey.” He stood tall, acting as a barrier between them. “Take a second to remember that this is your best goalie. From what I’ve seen of your fieldwork, you don’t want to lose him.” Dom covered a laugh with a cough at Kele’s subtle insult. Kele’s words seemed to make their way through Brady’s thick skull because all he did was breathe angrily out of his nose and shove Kele before stalking back to midfield.
“Thanks,” Dom said quietly, still kneeling on the ground. Kele shrugged and offered a hand, pulling Dom to his feet.
“I’m Kele.”
“I know.”
“Oh. You’re Dominic, right?” Kele knew who this boy was, but he didn’t want to seem like a stalker, so he asked anyway.
“Yeah, Dominic Malachi. You can just call me Dom.” He flashed a wide, genuine smile. “I’m the goalie and your resident homo.” He threw in some jazz hands as he told Kele exactly what he knew would come out (haha) eventually. Kele smiled back and Dom relaxed. He was used to dudebros backing away in disgust when they found out he was gay.
“Yeah, I’ve heard the story,” Kele’s eyes crinkled when he laughed.
“What--oh,” Dom’s confusion was dashed when he remembered the story everyone knew. It had gone around the school every time a new freshman asked who he was.
“Wouldn’t you have been there?” He asked suddenly, “You would have been a freshman when it happened.” Kele shrugged noncommittally.
“I think I’d remember witnessing that,” he grinned crookedly, “We must have had different lunch hours.” His smile made Dominic want to melt right into the ground.
“Yeah, that was… not a good day,” Dom chuckled.
“Yeah, for her at least,” Kele agreed, “It probably felt great to finally get that off of your chest.” Speaking of chests, Kele crossed his arms over his. Dom noted that despite knowing he was gay, Kele wasn’t put off enough to pull his singlet back up or put on the shift that was hanging from his arm. In fact, it seemed as though he was completely indifferent about Dom’s sexuality.
“I- do you know what happened?” Dom tilted his head, confused at Kele’s comment. He shuddered at the memory, a year old and still fresh. Kele frowned at this.
“What do you mean? Everyone knows what happened, you came out and broke up with your girlfriend.” Kele recounted what he’d heard. Is that what had gone around? How
could the truth have gotten twisted?
“No, that’s- is that what everyone thinks happened?” Dom was concerned that every incoming freshman was hearing the wrong story. Kele nodded slowly, eyebrows drawn together.
“Kele, I didn’t come out.” Dom put a tentative hand on Kele’s upper arm.
“What do you mean?”
“Jenny- I mean, my ex, Jennifer- outed me,” Dom said quietly, “I came out to her privately because I didn’t want to be a dick about it. Like, profound apology and all. I trusted her with that, and she turned right around and announced it to the entire school.”
“Oh my god, who does that?” Kele looked appalled. Dom had wondered the same thing in the moment, amid the constant stream of ‘oh, shit’ that was going through his head.
“Really angry teenage girls who just found out their boyfriend is gay, I guess,” he shrugged, “it was… a shitshow.” He couldn’t think of any better way to describe the following chunk of his life.
“Did people say shit?” he asked, brow furrowed. His dark eyes flashed with concern, and Dom found himself smiling gently.
“Sure, for a few weeks,” he shrugged, “I tried not to let it bother me and eventually people just… stopped.” Kele shook his head in amazement.
“Damn. I had no idea,” Kele admitted. Something akin to shame flew across his face. This confused Dom. What could Kele possibly be ashamed of in that sense? He’d done nothing against Dom. Although, he didn’t do anything to stop it, not that he needed to.
“It’s o- well,” Dom corrected himself, “it isn’t okay, but it didn’t do me any harm.”
“Words leave the least visible yet longest-lasting scars,” Kele said solemnly, as though reading from a page. Dom raised his eyebrows at the heartfelt prose. Seeing Dom’s expression, Kele’s already-dark complexion deepened.
“Just, um, something my mom used to say,” he explained awkwardly, “that’s Kaniya ‘Silvertongue’ Greenwood for you.” Dom grinned, thinking offhandedly that Kele had inherited his mother’s gift.
“It’s true,” Dom agreed, though it pained him to see his new teammate wince, “I mean, it’s not like I think about it all the time, but some things stick around.” For some reason, honesty poured out of him. For someone so intimidating, Kele was surprisingly easy to talk to.
“Yeah, I get it,” Kele said quietly, and suddenly Dom realized that he was talking to one of the few non-white people in this school, one of the even-fewer Native American students. Of course, Kele got it; he’d faced similar difficulties.
“Right,” he smacked himself internally, “of course you do. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Can’t be helped.” Kele grinned, albeit a little sadly. Dom frowned, in opposition to the statement.
“Sure it can,” he argued, “we just need to begin the dismantling of institutionalized, systemic racism and the returning of land to the native tribes who owned it first.” Kele fixed him with an indiscernible look that faded as soon as he noticed it.
“What?” he asked defensively.
“Nothing,” Kele shook his head, “Hey, do you want to hang out after practice?” Dominic had never agreed to something so quickly in his life. Despite everyone around him, joking and laughing and talking to him and with him, he felt so disconnected from his friends. So much that it sometimes felt like they weren’t really his friends at all. But here was Kele, this tall, dark, and handsome Native sophomore who had generally defied all odds and become undeniably the most wanted person in their high school, striking up a conversation with him despite knowing that Dominic was gay and probably attracted to him. And asking him to hang out? Outside of a school or sports event? Dom couldn’t even remember the last time someone wanted to genuinely get to know him outside of what everyone already knew.
“Uh, yeah, that sounds… that sounds really nice,” he felt his shoulders drop and wondered why he’d been so tense in the first place, “I work at a coffee shop, do you wanna go there?”
“You gonna make me free coffee if we do?” Kele asked, clearly joking. There he went with that adorable crooked smile again. God, Dom hoped he wasn’t blushing.
“Yeah,” he answered honestly.
“Oh. I was just kidding,” Kele backtracked.
“Nah, it’s okay. I was going to anyway, even if you hadn’t asked,” he admitted. It was something he did often, though he shouldn’t. But now, he had a reason to sneak a few extra drinks -- impressing a cute boy with coffee-making skills.
“Where is it? Can you send the address?” Kele asked, pulling his phone from the pocket of his shorts, “Do you have my number?” A little thrill shot up Dom’s spine, sparks flying from his hair.
“I don’t think so…” he took the offered phone and put his contact in, “okay, I’ll send you the address.” He grinned up at Kele, still boggled by the fact that anyone younger than him could be so much taller than him.
“Cool. See you at 5:30?” Kele suggested, his phone still cradled in both hands.
“Y-yeah sounds good.” Dom found himself stumbling over his words for the first time in a while, his brain finally catching up with the situation he’d gotten himself into.
“I should be getting back…” Kele moved slowly toward the door, looking disappointed to be leaving. Dom lifted a hand and waved him off.
“Is he a fag too?” Brady sneered from behind him. Dom was used to this kind of treatment from Brady, but to see it turned on someone who had done nothing to deserve it pissed him off.
“You wish he was,” he snapped, “maybe then it’d be easier for you to get a girlfriend.” He heard a laugh from the door and turned to see Kele walking back in.
“Sorry, forgot my paperwork,” he said, “nice one.” Dom blinked in confusion as Kele left again with a wink in his direction and a middle finger in Brady’s.
“I like him,” Danny said offhandedly. In Dom’s experience, Danny was pretty chill with, well, everything. Dom nodded absently, looking at the door Kele had walked out of. He tried not to think about the wink.