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The new university year has started, and it’s the first day of inductions for the new freshmen swimmers. When Win asked Team if he wanted to help out, Team readily agreed. As a second year, he’s closer in age to the newbies, and he figured it might help make them feel more comfortable.
Team is the first to arrive at the locker room. He has his locker door open, searching for his swimming shorts, when two other students walk in. They’re wearing the white shirt and black tie combination that identifies them as first year students. They don’t seem to notice Team, who is partially hidden behind the locker door.
One of them is slightly taller than Team, with a sour looking expression. The other one is relatively small for a swimmer, a smile on his face as he takes in his surroundings. The smaller boy makes a noise of awe as he passes the display cabinet, showcasing the multiple trophies and medals won by the club.
“The President and Vice President here are so talented,” he gushes, “It’s an honour to be on the same team as them.”
The other boy snorts rudely, already opening one of the empty lockers.
“If you say so,” he says.
The smaller boy looks a little unsettled by his reaction.
“I’m Bas,” he says, sending him a polite wai. “What’s your name?”
The other boy doesn’t even look at him. “Pod,” he responds, short and clipped.
Bas pauses, “Do you… know P’Dean and P’Win?”
Pod scoffs, “Of course I know Dean and Win. They’re all over the university’s Cute Boy page. And so is their choice in partners.”
Team bristles instantly. This boy is a freshman, barely eighteen, and he isn’t using honorifics for Dean and Win who are three years his senior.
Pod doesn’t notice Team’s reaction. “I enrolled in this university because I heard how prestigious the swimming team was. It wasn’t until I got here that I realised the two people running the club encouraged… that kind of behaviour. All I see is Dean fawning over his little boyfriend all over social media.” Pod slams the locker closed. “It’s not natural.”
Enraged, Team opens his mouth to retort, until he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. Pod can’t see from this angle, but Bas’ hand moves, sliding down toward where his backpack rests on one shoulder. Team catches a glimpse of what he presses his hand over before he hides it from view.
It’s a small rainbow flag badge, pinned to the front pocket of his backpack. It’s unmistakably a Pride pin. Team’s stomach sinks into his feet, even as his anger mounts further.
Bas’ eyes are blown wide and slightly terrified, though he’s trying his best to hide it. He turns to a locker and hurriedly shoves the bag in, out of sight. Pod, Team notes with disgust, apparently isn’t finished with his tirade.
“As if Dean wasn’t bad enough, we also have to put up with Win. I heard he goes for both boys and girls. The thought of having to get into the water with him disgusts me.” Pod’s lip curls in a sneer, “What if I catch something?”
The loud slam of Team’s locker door makes both students jump out of their skin. Team takes in several deep, measured breaths before turning toward the both of them.
The rude one, Pod, stares, “I know you,” he says suspiciously. “You’re not a first year student.”
The smaller boy, Bas, still looks scared, but now he’s looking between Team and Pod with trepidation. Recognition dawns over his face as his eyes flick down to where Team’s hand is clenched into a tight fist, then back up.
“P’Team,” Bas acknowledges, voice small.
Team inclines his head but otherwise doesn’t take his eyes off Pod.
“P’Team?” Pod wonders, then his face shifts into something dark. “Oh, I know who he is.”
“P’Team is the best swimmer in the entire club,” Bas interjects hastily.
Pod continues like he never spoke, “I’ve seen you on that Cute Boy page. You’re the one dating Win,” he practically spits the name out like it’s something dirty. Team’s blood boils in absolute fury, nails digging into his palm until it stings.
The voice inside of his head that sounds eerily like Win is telling him to calm down and try to de-escalate the situation. Bas has shrank back against the lockers, and right now Team is concerned with getting him away from the other boy.
“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt because you’re a first year,” Team tells him, every word calm but fraught with tension. “P’Dean and P’Win are your seniors and should be addressed as such. They are the President and Vice President of this club. You won’t get very far if you continue to disrespect them.”
“Looks like you took that one step further,” Pod sneers, “I guess sleeping with the Vice President is the easiest way to get ahead.”
Team stares at him in incomprehension. “You’re not very smart, are you?” If Team wasn’t so angry, he would almost find this funny. “If you think my relationship can make me a better swimmer, then I’m seriously concerned for your intelligence.”
Pod bristles in absolute fury, but Team ignores him and focuses his attention on the other first year.
“Are you alright?” Team asks.
Bas nods timidly and begins to slowly move towards Team, shooting wary looks at Pod, who by now is seething at being ignored.
“If you come with me, I’ll talk you through our induction process,” Team suggests, smiling encouragingly at him.
Out of nowhere, Pod surges forward and shoves Team in the chest. Team stumbles back from the force of it, shoulder colliding with the edge of the lockers. The momentum snaps his neck back, causing Team to hit his head off one of the metal doors.
There is a shrill ringing in his ears as he reorientates himself, fury roaring through his veins like fire.
“I don’t care how good you are in the water,” Pod snaps. “You should consider getting tested. I can only imagine what kinds of things your boyfriend passed on to you.”
There is a throbbing pain blooming across his skull and shoulder, but Team barely registers it. Anger descending like mist over his eyes, Team throws his entire weight forward and punches him. There’s a sickening crunch as Team’s fist collides with Pod’s face. Despite being an inch taller than Team, he collapses to the ground like a sack of bricks, holding his profusely bleeding nose.
Team takes a step closer, but Bas yells “No!” and plants himself between Team and the other boy.
“P’Team, you’ll only get into trouble,” he says frantically.
Team vaguely registers two hands on his chest where Bas is trying to stop him from advancing on Pod, but Team doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if he gets into trouble. He doesn’t care that Pod is now lying on the floor, blood dripping onto his shirt, staring up at Team in shock. He wants to tear that boy apart; hurt him like his words hurt the people he loves. The knuckles on his hand are throbbing, but he can’t feel it over the rage clouding his mind.
“Get out of the way,” Team tells Bas, not looking away from Pod, anger tight in every syllable.
“Team?”
The worry in Win’s voice yanks him back from the precipice, anchoring him back to reality. Bas quickly backs away and suddenly Win is at his side, grasping his elbow to get his attention. Win barely spares the person on the floor a glance before turning toward Team. Pruk has moved past them, crouching down to press a towel against Pod’s nose.
Team can hear his own breathing in his ears; fast and harsh and uncontrolled. His entire frame is trembling with both anger and sadness alike. There is a burn behind his eyes that he thinks with horror might be tears.
“What happened?” Win asks softly, trying to catch his eyes.
Team can’t bear to look at him.
Win, who is nothing but kind to every person he meets. Win, who loves so deeply that his capacity for it cannot be limited to just one gender. Win, who doesn’t deserve any of the terrible things being said about him by a complete stranger.
There is a crushing pain in the cavity of Team’s chest that aches for Win, for Dean, for Pharm, and for everybody else like them.
The hand that cups his cheek is gentle, but Team flinches anyway. Win is looking at him with such tender concern that Team feels like he might break.
Team shakes off his hand and bolts.
Win finds Team in his fourth year apartment, curled up into a tight ball on top of Win’s duvet. Relief washes over him; Team still sought him out for comfort, even if he’s hiding the reason he’s upset.
Win can feel Team’s eyes tracking him as he fishes a gel ice pack out of the freezer, but when he gets to the bed, Team refuses to meet his eye.
Win settles next to him, holding out his palm, “Let me see your hand.”
Team sits up and obeys, his hand trembling in Win’s grasp, still not looking at him.
“It was a good punch,” Win tells him. Team hisses as Win lays the ice pack over his swollen knuckles. “I wish I knew what he did to deserve it.”
Team stays silent, staring down at where their hands overlap. It’s like a hairline fracture has appeared in Win’s heart in the shape of Team’s broken expression. Win is helpless if Team won’t tell him what really happened.
Win threads his other hand through the back of Team’s hair, feeling for a lump. “Nong Bas said you hit your head because the other student pushed you.”
Team’s head whips up so fast that Win startles and pulls his hand away. Team winces at the rapid movement, but his voice is sharp, “What else did he tell you?”
“Nothing,” Win reassures. “Just that Pod said things that were inappropriate and pushed you into the lockers, so you punched him. Bas was adamant that it wasn’t your fault.”
“Do you believe him?” Team asks. He says it offhandedly, but Win senses the importance of it anyway.
Win frowns at him, “Of course I do. You wouldn’t hit anybody unless you felt like it was the only way.”
Team stares down at his knees, haunted. “The things he said—” his voice snaps off.
“About you?”
Team doesn’t respond. His jaw tightens, the entire line of him fraught with tension. There are hot, angry tears along his lash line, but he isn’t allowing them to fall.
Unable to stand it, Win gets comfortable on his side and gently tugs on Team’s arm. Team goes readily, curling into Win’s chest, scrunched up as small as he will go.
“Baby,” Win says gently, one palm against his trembling back, “What did he say to you?”
Team’s eyes squeeze shut, agonised. “Stop it,” he rasps, “I won’t say it. Stop asking me.”
“Okay,” Win says, and then again, softer, “Okay, Team. I won’t ask again.”
Silence falls between them, the only sound is the soft rasp of Win’s fingers through Team’s hair. Team is so still and quiet that Win thinks he fell asleep, until he presses closer to Win’s chest.
“It hurts,” Team whispers.
“Your head?” Win murmurs.
“All of it,” Team replies quietly. He lets out a deep, shuddering exhale, and then goes silent.
The fracture in Win’s heart cracks open into a gaping chasm.
Team doesn’t go to class the next day.
He explains to Win, voice small, that his head still hurts from the impact with the lockers. While that may be true, Win suspects the real reason is something Team can’t bring himself to tell him.
He’s never seen Team look as angry as he had yesterday, standing over that other student, fists trembling. But there was a fragility to it, too. Like whatever hurt inflicted by the other boy had built up, with nowhere else to go, until it burst out of him.
Team could be a little hot headed and rash by his very nature, but yesterday was something else entirely. Win suspects Team is worried about what he’d do to Pod if he ever ran into him again.
Win leaves pain relief on the bedside table, tucks the duvet firmly around him, presses a feather-light kiss to his forehead, and leaves.
Win also doesn’t go to class that day. He makes a beeline straight to the university pool’s security office.
When he gets there, he finds Dean waiting outside the door, arms crossed over his chest. Win hesitates, waiting to see if his best friend is going to try and stop him. Instead, Dean takes the keys from Win and unlocks the door.
“After you,” Dean says, holding the door open.
The office is blessedly empty. They settle at the desk and rewind the footage on the computer screen to the previous day. What they watch makes Win’s blood run cold. The audio through the speakers is tinny, but the dialogue is unmistakable. Beside him, even Dean takes in a quiet inhale at Pod’s words.
When he sees Team get ruthlessly shoved into the lockers, Win’s hand tightens so hard around the mouse that the plastic casing creaks dangerously.
“You should consider getting tested. I can only imagine what kinds of things your boyfriend passed on to you.”
Team’s answering punch is the only thing that stops Win from leaving and finding Pod himself. Win has long since passed the point of caring about what people have to say about his bisexuality, but he’s had years to learn how to endure it. All of this is relatively new to Team. The reason for Team’s anguished expression all at once becomes clear.
Both Win and Dean stare at the screen in a tense silence.
Win highlights a section of the footage, starting from Team throwing the punch to Pruk helping an injured Pod out of the locker room, and erases it.
Win sits back in his chair, voice even, “It seems like there was a temporary fault with the cameras. Some of the footage was corrupted.”
“That’s a shame.” Dean’s face is carved from stone, unreadable. “They should get that looked at.”
Win rubs his hand over his aching eyes. “Dean, I know we would usually ignore something like this,” he pauses, remembering the haunted look in Team’s eyes. “But this time…”
“It’s too much,” Dean agrees. “What are you going to do?”
Win doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “What would you do if it was Pharm?”
The silence beside him speaks volumes.
The Head of their university is a stern but reasonable man. He watches the footage in silence, jaw clenching when he hears the words spat towards Team. He turns away from the laptop screen, expression grim, to face Win on the other side of the desk.
“Nong Win, thank you for bringing this to my attention. The university has a zero tolerance policy for things like this.”
Win closes the laptop and sets it back on his lap. “With all due respect, we’ve been tolerating these kinds of remarks for years,” his voice is calm.
The Head pauses, considering, then inclines his head in acknowledgment. “I admit it can be difficult to take any action without solid proof.” Win doesn’t deem that worth a response. Now isn’t the time to start debating the university turning a blind eye to prejudice. “The evidence you have provided is more than sufficient for disciplinary action, once the students involved have been questioned.”
“There will be no need to question Nong Team. Nong Bas has offered to act as the witness in his place.” The Head’s brows furrow, looking like he’s about to argue. Before he can, Win slides a sealed envelope across the desk. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you who provided the swimming scholarship money for this year’s freshmen.”
The Head glances down at the envelope, nodding tightly. “The generosity of your mother’s company has always been invaluable to us.”
Win smiles, neutral and polite. “I’m glad to hear that, sir. My mother, on the other hand, was not happy to hear that her scholarship went to a student with such ignorant views. This is a signed letter from her recommending the scholarship be revoked effective immediately.”
The Head doesn’t respond.
“I want to make it clear, sir,” Win continues. “I am not here with the intent to ruin that boy’s life. However, there must be some consequences for what he did. People need to understand that all words hold weight. We ignore a lot of things that are said about us, but this time it went too far.”
He can’t get the image of Team’s trembling form, tense with anger and misery, out of his mind.
“The safety of my juniors is my top priority,” Win says. “I hope you choose the best course of action.”
The door of Win’s apartment opens into near-darkness. Team hasn’t opened the blinds since Win left that morning; the warm glow of the single bedside lamp is the only light in the room. Team is curled up on top of Win’s duvet, wearing one of Win’s oversized hoodies. There is a pang in Win’s core at the sight of him.
The mattress dips as he sits on the edge of the bed.
Team tilts his head up, takes one look at the heartache on Win’s face, and realises instantly that Win knows. His eyes fill with tears, as if he’s finally reached his limit for hiding it. He turns his face into the pillow, away from the expression on Win’s face.
Unable to stand it, Win pulls Team until he’s cradled sideways across his lap. Team’s head lists onto his shoulder in defeat. His body is trembling, but there are no sobs forthcoming. The silent tears are what worry Win the most.
“I’m sorry,” Win whispers, the words pressed into Team’s hair.
“What for?” Team curls his hands into Win’s shirt, small and fragile. “You didn’t say those things.”
“I know,” Win gathers him tighter, wishing he could protect him from the whole world. “I’m sorry that you had to hear them.”
“You’re the one who shouldn’t have to hear them,” Team whispers, voice shaking.
The cavern in Win’s chest aches. Team’s heart is like a glass, filled to the brim with affection for those he cares about. When someone hurts those he loves, that glass can shatter, his sadness and anger leaking out between the spaces of his ribs.
Team is hurting this badly, not just for himself, but for Win.
Win presses a kiss to Team’s temple. “I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Team is getting worked up again, Win can hear it in his voice.
“I know,” he says soothingly, “I know it doesn’t, Team. But remember what I told you. In this world, there are always going to be those who don’t understand people like us. People who hate us for something we have no control over.”
“It isn’t fair,” Team whispers, face downturned. Win’s heart finally breaks into pieces, scattered across the floor.
“I know, baby.” He takes a cleansing breath, inhaling the calming scent of Team’s hair. “The people who say those things don’t matter. For every person like that, there are two more supporting us. We have our families, the entire swim team, Dean, Pharm,” Win pauses briefly, “imagine if Manaow had overheard.”
“He’d be dead,” Team responds, vindictive.
Win smothers a tiny smile into Team’s temple. “Exactly.”
Team squirms in his hold until he can look at him. “I understand all of that. But this time, I couldn’t just let it go.”
“Me neither,” Win replies.
Team stares. “What did you do?”
“Let’s just say Mae wasn’t too happy to hear that one of the beneficiaries of her swimming scholarship was a raging homophobe. His scholarship was revoked, and the Head had him removed from the team. Without that scholarship, his grades aren’t high enough to meet the requirements here. He’s having to drop out and find another university.”
The relief in Team’s eyes is palpable. For the first time since Win saw him in that locker room, Team relaxes completely in his arms.
Win smiles, “You don’t have to see him ever again.”
“Good,” Team sighs. “Although, I would have preferred more bodily harm.”
“I’m sure you would,” Win replies, amused. “But it’s better this way. We abided by the university rules, and I was able to pull some strings to make sure he never comes back.”
Team is quiet for a moment. He nuzzles further into Win, tucking his nose into the crook of his neck.
“Thank you, hia,” Team murmurs eventually.
“You don’t have to thank me for something like this,” Win replies quietly. “I know I should be saying violence isn’t the answer, but Pod did deserve it.”
“Speaking of violence, though,” Team glances down at his bruised knuckles, “Why aren’t I getting disciplined for punching another student?”
“The footage of Pod saying those things and pushing you somehow ended up with the Head of the university. The footage of you punching him appears to have gone missing,” Win throws him an innocent look. “Must be a fault with the camera.”
“That’s a shame,” Team responds solemnly. “They should get that looked at,”
“They really should,” Win agrees. “When Pod turned up to the Head’s office with a broken nose, he tried to use Bas as a witness. Bas told the Head that he heard everything Pod said, but never saw you punch him.” Win’s lips tilt upwards at the memory, “He said Pod must have fallen over and hit his nose because, and I quote, the pool can get quite slippery.”
Team smiles. Win can feel the bunch of his cheek against his neck. “He’s going to make a great addition to the team.”
Win can’t help but agree. Bas hadn’t even hesitated to lie in order to protect Team, like a tiny loyal spitfire. Win hadn’t pressured him into saying anything he didn’t want—in fact, Bas had offered up the altered testimony freely, citing he had similar reasons for wanting Pod gone.
“Bas told me he was gay,” Win offers quietly. Team doesn’t react at all, staying still and silent at the revelation. He’s fiddling with one of the buttons on Win’s shirt. “You don’t seem surprised. How did you know?”
“There was a Pride pin on his backpack,” Team explains. “He tried to hide it when Pod started his homophobic rant, but I saw it before he could. Combined with how scared he looked, it pretty much gave it away.”
Win wouldn’t be surprised if part of the reason for Team’s reaction in the locker room was because of that Pride pin. Team has always been fiercely protective of those that don’t have the chance to stand up for themselves.
Win says, “Bas told me one of the reasons he was so excited to join the swim club was because some of the members were just like him. He knew he would have somewhere he could be himself without having to worry about what other people would say.” Win pulls back to catch Team’s eye. “You know, Dean and I aren’t going to be here forever. Once we graduate, Nong Bas might need somebody there to support him. To know he’s not alone.”
Team presses a kiss to Win’s cheek in acknowledgement.
A few days later, Team runs into Bas in the locker room before training.
Bas’ grin is blinding at the sight of him. “P’Team.”
“Sorry I missed your induction.” Team smiles back at him, “Thanks for not turning me in.”
“He deserved worse,” Bas says firmly.
Team huffs a light laugh at the fire in his eyes. “Yeah, he did.” He glances at Bas’ backpack, but the rainbow badge is nowhere to be found. “I liked your badge.”
“Oh,” Bas looks at his now-blank backpack, “Thank you.”
“Where is it from?”
“Actually, my—my boyfriend makes them.” Bas glances at him, uncertain, but Team only waits patiently for him to finish. “He’s an artist studying at a different university.”
Bas fumbles for his pocket and takes out the rainbow flag pin. It’s beautifully made, with what looks like hand painted enamel.
Team takes it from him for a closer look. “Your boyfriend is really talented.”
Bas practically vibrates at Team’s words. “I could ask him to make one for you and P’Win—I mean,” he backtracks hastily, “if you’re okay with that.”
Team smiles kindly, “Do they also come in blue, pink, and purple?”
Bas’ eyes light up. “They do!” he says excitedly, “He makes all of the flags, I can show you some pictures, let me get my phone—”
Around the corner, unseen by both boys in the locker room, Win smiles.