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now
It was the middle of the night, and it was pouring, but Kevin didn’t hesitate to open the door when Jean knocked. “You’re drenched.”
Jean looked down at his dripping clothes, wet hair plastered against his face, then back up at Kevin. “I walked.”
Kevin frowned at him, but he stepped aside and let him in. “Come on. I’ll grab some sweats for you to change into.”
Jean nodded numbly and followed after him, leaving a trail of water on the floor. It puddled at his feet while he waited for Kevin to pull dry clothing out of the drawer for him. Kevin turned to hand the sweatshirt and sweatpants to him, but he hesitated. “Bathroom. Dry off a little before you touch them, or they’ll get just as wet as you are.”
“Okay,” said Jean. It sounded like the word was being squeezed out of his throat, and he didn’t move. Kevin sighed and brushed past him, leading the way into the bathroom. He put the clothes on the sink. He put a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Get changed. And then you’re going to tell me what the hell happened.” Jean nodded, and Kevin left him alone.
When Jean met him back in the living room a few minutes later, Kevin was curled in one corner of the sofa with a cup of tea. He nodded towards another cup on the coffee table. “It’s that herbal stuff you like.”
“Merci,” said Jean. He picked up the mug and slowly sat down on the other end of the sofa, looking at his tea but not drinking it.
“Does Jeremy know where you are?” Kevin asked.
Jean’s mouth twisted. “Yes.”
Kevin paused, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, Kevin tried again. “Is there a reason you’re here with me instead of him?”
“Yes,” said Jean again.
Kevin only allowed the silence for another minute. “I’m not playing twenty questions. Talk.”
“It’s over,” said Jean, still staring at his tea. Kevin drew in a sharp breath. “I ended it.”
“You—why?” asked Kevin. “I thought you were feeling better about things.”
Jean shook his head violently. “I was wrong. It’s not safe, being with me. He will be better off without me.”
“Jean, he loves you.”
“And I love him,” said Jean. “That is why I broke up with him.”
Kevin leaned forward, brow furrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I had a visitor this morning,” said Jean, and Kevin stilled.
“Him?”
Jean shook his head. “Just a minion. But the message was clear enough.” He looked up at Kevin, eyes haunted. “He came to my house. Our house.”
Kevin let out a strangled noise. “Was Jeremy—”
“Non, thank god,” said Jean with a shudder. “He still doesn’t know. If he knew, I don’t think I could—I don’t think they’d let me. Not without—he’d be a liability, then.” Jean took a breath. “That’s why I had to end it now. Before it was too late.”
Kevin was quiet for a minute. “So he doesn’t know why.”
Jean grimaced. “It is for the best. Maybe it will make it easier—make him hate me.”
“He’s never going to hate you,” said Kevin. “He loves you too much.”
“Yes, well,” said Jean with a shrug, “maybe I can make him stop.”
before
“I know I’ve said it a dozen times, but it’s so great that the two of you got drafted to the same city, even if it couldn’t be the same team,” said Jeremy. “And living in New York? The best.”
“New York is the only city big enough to support two exy teams,” said Kevin. It was also the only city that factored the higher cost of living into its salaries—though the league’s salary caps still kept any one team from being able to afford both Kevin and Jean. And it was the city where the Moriyamas were headquartered.
But Jeremy didn’t know any of that.
“It is also a very long way from California,” said Jean carefully.
“I keep telling you, babe,” said Jeremy, “you lead, I follow. I can be a physical therapist anywhere. You’re the big exy star.”
“I believe you are thinking of Kevin,” said Jean.
“Him, too,” said Jeremy with an easy smile, “but he’s not the one I moved across the country for. No offense, Kev.”
Kevin brushed him off. “I’m just glad you’re both here,” he said. “It’s nice, having y’all nearby.”
“It is,” agreed Jean, smiling softly.
“You know, living in the same neighborhood is great, but I still think it would’ve been fun to be roommates,” said Jeremy.
“So I could be a permanent third wheel?” asked Kevin dryly.
Jeremy stepped forward and put his hands on Kevin’s shoulders. “You know you’re not, right?” he asked. “You couldn’t be.”
Kevin laughed a little and looked at Jean, but Jean was just smiling softly; Kevin shook his head. “This is textbook third wheel behavior.”
“We want you here,” said Jean simply, as if that settled things.
Kevin hesitated, then smiled, slow and tentative and genuine. “If you say so.”
“I do,” said Jean.
Jeremy went over to the sofa and sprawled across it with a contented sigh. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”
“Just let me know when you start getting sick of me,” said Kevin, aiming for lightness and missing.
“Not going to happen, Kev,” said Jeremy. “You’re always welcome here.”
now
Kevin opened the door slowly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Jeremy shift uncomfortably. “I know. And it’s rude of me to just show up like this. I should’ve at least texted you first or something. I was just scared you would’ve told me not to come.”
“I would have.”
“Right. Well. So you see why I was scared.” Jeremy finally looked Kevin in the eye. “Can I come in?”
“I’m watching his game,” Kevin warned. “And I promised to give him notes afterwards, so I’m definitely going to keep watching it.”
“I figured,” said Jeremy. “That’s actually kind of why I’m here. I knew I’d end up watching no matter what, and I thought it might be better for me if I wasn’t alone.” He hesitated, then went on. “Plus, I knew he wouldn’t be here. If he’s on TV instead.”
“So you . . . want to watch the game?” asked Kevin.
Jeremy shrugged helplessly. “It’s the only way I can see him.”
Kevin stared at him for a long moment, then he stepped aside. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” said Jeremy, and he followed Kevin over to the sofa, his eyes on the screen as soon as it was visible. For a while, they watched in silence, both focused on the game, but Kevin’s glances towards Jeremy became increasingly frequent. “Has he told you anything?” Jeremy asked. “About—about why?”
“What did he tell you?” asked Kevin carefully.
“Nothing, really,” said Jeremy. “He just kept saying I deserved better. Which—shouldn’t that be up to me? I don’t want better. I don’t know if better even exists.”
“Yeah, well,” said Kevin, “maybe you should find out.”
Jeremy let out a noise of frustration. “I don’t want to find out. Shouldn’t that matter?” Kevin shrugged helplessly, and Jeremy sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to—I know he’s your best friend, and I’m . . . I mean, I was . . .” He shook his head. “I’m not trying to put you in an awkward situation or anything, I just—I’m just trying to understand why.”
“I know,” said Kevin. For a second, it looked like he was going to say something else, but instead, he just turned back to the game.
before
Their cheeks were flushed as they piled into Kevin’s brownstone and shut out the cold.
“I’m not saying it was bad; I’m saying it was fine,” Kevin protested.
“I am saying it was bad,” said Jean. “Why was the theatre so tiny? The actors could see us.”
“That’s the beauty of some of these off-Broadway theatres,” said Jeremy with enthusiasm, gesturing broadly as he went into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. “It’s such an intimate experience! We got to make eye contact with professional actors while they performed!”
“That was part of the problem,” said Kevin, hanging their coats in the closet. “The lead actress recognized us mid-monologue and forgot her lines.”
Jean nodded and sat on the sofa. “That is one of the reasons the play was bad,” he said. “Another reason is that there was no plot.”
“There was totally a plot!” said Jeremy, joining them in the living room with waters for everyone. “Yeah, it was a little avant-garde, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t a plot.”
“Okay,” said Kevin, sitting beside Jean. “Summarize the plot of the play we just saw.”
Jeremy faltered. “It was about—well—there were themes of parenthood, definitely. Or—maybe coming of age? Or aging?”
“You are not arguing your case very well, mon amour,” said Jean. “You cannot clearly articulate a theme, much less an actual plot. Because there wasn’t one.”
“Okay, fine, this one was a little weird,” Jeremy admitted with a laugh. “Next time, we’ll go to something a little less abstract.”
“A lot less abstract,” Jean countered.
Jeremy looked to Kevin for support; Kevin gave an apologetic grimace. “Maybe it would be good to go with something a lot less abstract next time so we can really appreciate the range and contrast,” he suggested.
“Fine,” said Jeremy, sighing dramatically and sitting down next to Kevin. “We’ll go to something more basic next time.”
“Thank you,” said Jean emphatically.
“You still had fun though, right?” asked Jeremy, glancing between the two of them.
“Of course,” said Kevin.
“Making fun of it is part of the joy,” Jean agreed.
Jeremy laughed. “Not exactly what I was going for, but I’ll take it!”
“I think I would like to see Wicked next,” said Jean, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and putting his legs across Kevin’s lap. “I have heard that it is a classic.”
“Yeah, that’s a great one!” said Jeremy, nodding eagerly. “Kevin, what do you think?”
Kevin made a face. “It’s—isn’t it kind of clichéd?”
“It’s got a really solid storyline,” said Jeremy, “and lots of great songs. I really think you’d like it!”
“I don’t know,” said Kevin. “Maybe y’all should see that one without me.”
“Absolutely not,” said Jean, lightly kicking him. “We see it together or not at all.”
“You don’t have to include me in everything you do,” said Kevin seriously. “The two of you are the couple. I’m fine on my own when you want to do things without me.”
“We’ve been over this, Kev,” said Jeremy, leaning into him. “We like having you around.”
Kevin gave a guarded smile. “If you say so. Just remember, you can tell me to fuck off at any time, and I will.”
“Not happening, but sure,” said Jeremy.
“You are quite stuck with us,” said Jean, sounding satisfied.
“So,” said Jeremy seriously, “do you want to see Wicked with us, or do you want to prevent Jean from fulfilling his lifelong dream of seeing Wicked?”
“Lifelong? Really?” asked Kevin, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” said Jean. “It is all that I want in this world.”
Kevin sighed, but he was smiling—a real smile. “Well, then, who am I to tell you no?”
They saw the show a few days later, and Defying Gravity was stuck in Kevin’s head the rest of the week.
now
“He misses you, too, you know,” said Kevin.
Jean looked over at him, eyes empty. “You say that as if it makes a difference.”
“Maybe it should.”
Jean straightened. “You know why it can’t.” He frowned. “Why are you talking to him so much, anyway?”
Kevin looked away. “We’re friends. He’s come over a few times, and he’s—we’ve watched your games, mostly.”
“I see,” said Jean, nodding with exaggerated understanding. “You had no problem distancing yourself from him when we were still together, when you got it in your head that you were somehow coming between us or making things more dangerous or complicated. But now that I actually want you to give him space, you are with him all the time.”
“We’re friends,” Kevin said again, “and he misses you.”
“Do you not think, perhaps, that being close friends with you could put him in the exact sort of danger I have broken both our hearts to avoid?” asked Jean icily.
“We’re allowed to have friends, aren’t we?” asked Kevin, his voice raising in octave and volume.
“Are we?” Jean shot back. “How does Seth Gordon feel about that?”
“That was different,” Kevin protested. “We weren’t even friends.”
“Just teammates,” said Jean, nodding. “Even that is too close to people like us.”
Kevin frowned. “That’s a very lonely way to live.”
“Oui,” said Jean with a shrug, “but you get it. You did the same thing. It is better than constantly worrying that I will be the reason he gets hurt.”
“He is hurting.”
“No,” said Jean, shaking his head. “He is sad. That is not the same thing.”
“But it still matters.”
“What matters is he is safe. I gave him up to protect him. As long as he is unharmed, it is worth it.”
Kevin furrowed his brow. “You can’t just give your whole life away.”
“I haven’t,” said Jean. “I have you. And I have exy.”
“You don’t even like exy.”
“It is not that I do not like it, exactly,” said Jean. “It is—something I have always had to do. In a different world, I might enjoy it, but in this one . . .” He shrugged. “It is work. I do it. They pay me. I pay them.”
Kevin tilted his head. “Was there ever a time when it was more than that to you?”
Jean frowned, considering. “Perhaps,” he said. “When I was a boy. Before I realized why my father was so insistent that I learn. Why it was so important for me to be the best.”
“I’m sorry,” Kevin whispered.
“It is not your fault,” said Jean, “unless we are blaming you for the sins of your mother, inventing the sport with the brother of a mob boss in the first place.”
“Do you think she knew?” asked Kevin. “I wonder, sometimes—how could she not? But she left me with them. So, how could she?” He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s late. And it’s not like we can ask her.”
“It is okay to wonder,” said Jean. “But sometimes, it is better not to know. She did invent the sport, and she did leave you to the Master, and now we are stuck playing it until we drop dead. Does it really matter whether she knew about the yakuza?”
Kevin let out a long, slow breath. “I guess not. It’s just . . . uncomfortable, not knowing.”
Jean nodded. “We are not comfortable people.” He paused. “But Jeremy is. He deserves to be.”
“I wasn’t kidding earlier, when I said he misses you.”
“He will get over me,” said Jean. “And you, too, if you give him the chance.”
“Just like you’re getting over him?” Kevin challenged.
Jean set his jaw. “I have you, and I have exy.” Saying the words a second time made them sound like a mantra. “That is enough.”
This time, Kevin didn’t argue.
before
“I do not want to be an exy player anymore,” said Jean.
Kevin looked at him in alarm. “You can’t quit. The deal. They’ll—they might—”
“I know,” said Jean, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m not going to—I’m not quitting. I just wish I could.” He took a long swig of his drink. “I am telling you what I want, not what I think will actually happen.”
Kevin nodded slowly. “So what are you going to do?”
Jean shrugged. “Keep playing exy. Like I always have.” He paused. “Jeremy knows I do not wish to play anymore.”
Kevin drew in a sharp breath. “You told him?”
“No, of course not,” said Jean with a bitter laugh. “If I tell him, he asks why, and if I tell him that, he’s trapped. Like us. He just—he knows me. He can tell.”
“What does he want you to do?” asked Kevin.
“Retire, obviously. He does not know that I can’t. So he does not understand why I won’t.”
“Ah,” said Kevin, grimacing. “I assume you’re not planning to help him understand?”
Jean shot him a look that was half anger, half misery. “Obviously not. How can I?”
Kevin hesitated. “They might be okay with it.”
“Might,” echoed Jean mockingly. “Are you willing to stake his life on a maybe? What about mine?”
Kevin shook his head wordlessly.
“I didn’t think so,” said Jean, turning away.
“So, if you’re not going to tell him the truth,” asked Kevin, “what are you going to tell him?”
“The same thing I have been telling him,” said Jean bitterly. “I will continue to lie.”
“But he knows you’re hiding something.”
Jean shrugged. “Then I will lie better.”
Kevin nodded. “Let me know what you say to him. I’ll back your story up, if you let me.”
“I will. Thank you.” Jean studied Kevin for a long moment. “You know, sometimes I think it would be easier if you and I just . . .”
“Just what?”
Jean stared for another second, then shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?” asked Kevin softly.
“It can’t. Not now, anyway.”
“Okay,” said Kevin, and they changed the subject.
now
“He’s really good,” said Jeremy, staring up at the screen. “But I don’t get why he keeps playing if he hates it so much.”
“He doesn’t hate it,” said Kevin quickly. Jeremy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Not really, at least,” he amended.
“Would you believe anyone actually hated exy?” Jeremy asked.
“Maybe not,” Kevin admitted. “I really don’t think Jean hates it, though.”
“He said he did. Multiple times. In several languages.”
“He doesn’t hate it,” said Kevin gain, this time with more confidence. “He—he resents it, I think, a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
Kevin spoke carefully. “He was never given the option to do anything else. If he’d been given the choice, he might have chosen exy. But he never got to choose. He’s never been able to do anything else.”
“He could, now,” said Jeremy. “From the moment he got to USC, he could’ve done anything he wanted.”
“It was already too late by then,” said Kevin. “Exy—it’s all we know how to do.”
“He majored in art history, you know,” said Jeremy. “He could’ve done something with that. Still could.”
Kevin was silent a moment, studying Jeremy. “Why do you still care?”
He shrugged. “I just want him to be happy. Even if it’s not with me.”
“You don’t have to,” said Kevin.
“I do, though.”
Kevin tilted his head. “He broke your heart. You should hate him.”
Jeremy smiled sadly. “If I could hate him, he wouldn’t have been able to break my heart.” He sighed. “Anyway, can you just—wish him well from me? Or not from me, if that’s better. I just want him to know he’s got people in his corner.”
“I’ll make sure he knows.”
“Thank you.”
They continued watching the game in silence.
before
“Are you sure I’m not intruding?”
“What? No,” said Jeremy. “Kevin, my family loves you. They’re absolutely thrilled you’ll be spending the holiday with us.”
“They barely know me,” Kevin protested. “We’ve only met, like, once.”
“Twice,” Jeremy corrected. “Graduation, and again when they were in New York last year. We all sat together at Jean’s game, and we went out to dinner.”
“Not to mention the hours Jeremy has spent talking about you,” said Jean teasingly.
Kevin’s eyes were wide. “You talk about me?”
“Yeah, obviously,” said Jeremy, squeezing Kevin’s shoulder. “Kev, you’re important to us. We hang out all the time. Of course you’re going to come up in my chats with my family.”
“I do?” asked Kevin, cheeks flushed.
“Frequently,” said Jean.
“You talk about us, too, with Wymack, right?” said Jeremy.
“Yeah,” said Kevin, “but that’s different.”
Jean snorted. “No it’s not.”
“He knows you.”
“As exy players, maybe,” said Jeremy. “I haven’t seen him since back in college, at my last game against the Foxes.”
“Oh.” Kevin blinked. “Jean, though, you’ve spent more time around him, and Abby.”
Jean raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the few weeks between my departure from the Nest and my arrival at USC,” he said. “Classic opportunity to get to know your father.”
“The point is,” said Jeremy, moving his hand from Kevin’s shoulder to his elbow, “my family definitely knows who you are—they know who most of my friends are—and they like you, and they’re excited to see you.”
“Okay,” said Kevin slowly, starting to smile, “if you’re sure.”
“Absolutely!” said Jeremy with a grin. He bounced a little on his feet. “You’re going to have so much fun. It’s always a little chaotic, but in the best way. And my mom makes this peppermint candy that’s to die for—you’re going to love it.”
“It is very good,” Jean confirmed.
“I don’t like peppermint,” said Kevin, “or candy.”
“You will like this,” Jean assured him.
“I really don’t think I will.”
“You will try it, at least?”
Kevin sighed. “Yeah, I’ll try it.”
“Awesome!” said Jeremy. “I really do think you’re going to love it. I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. No pressure or anything. But I think you will.”
“Jeremy does tend to be correct about these things,” said Jean.
Jeremy grinned. “I really do!”
“All right, I’m sold!” said Kevin. “So, what exactly does your family know about me?”
“The usual things,” said Jeremy. “I haven’t kept a log of what I’ve told them or anything. Just normal stuff—no state secrets, or anything embarrassing. Typical things I’d tell them about anyone I spend a lot of time with, who’s important to me.”
“Important?”
“Yeah, Kev,” said Jeremy. “Like Jean. You two are important to me, so I talk about you to my family, and they ask about you, because they care about the people I care about.” He glanced over at Jean, then back at Kevin. “I know you aren’t used to that kind of thing. But I promise, it’s normal.”
“I’m sure it is,” said Kevin with a self-depreciating laugh that was just a little too bright. Jean looked at him sharply, but Jeremy didn’t seem to notice. “I overreacted. Of course you’ve talked about me with your family. It makes sense.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Now that that’s settled, I’m going to give my parents a quick call, let them know we’re all coming. You guys want in on the call, or do you just want to hang here while I chat for a minute?”
“We will stay here,” said Jean.
“Okay!” said Jeremy.
Jean watched until he had disappeared around the corner and waited until he heard the door click closed, and then he turned on Kevin. “Talk.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Kevin blandly.
“Yes, you do,” said Jean. “Do not waste time.”
“It’s nothing,” said Kevin. “I just—I feel like I should be giving the two of you space, to figure things out.”
Jean’s mouth twitched. “We neither need nor want space from you.”
“Okay,” said Kevin, holding up his hands. “If you say so.”
“I do,” said Jean. “Things have been difficult, lately, but they have not been difficult because of you. Things have been difficult because of them.”
Kevin looked at him bleakly. “I’ve got the same baggage you do.”
Jean shook his head. “You carry it better. It matches your complexion.”
“Seriously, though, has anything happened?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” said Jean with a shrug. “But they’re watching. As usual.”
“Are they seeing anything they don’t like?”
Jean’s mouth tightened. “That is the question, is it not?”
Kevin pressed his lips together. “If both of us are around him, that increases the odds of them watching him, too.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s something we should think about. Something I should think about.”
“Not right now,” said Jean. “Let’s just enjoy the holiday. We can talk about it afterwards.”
now
The season was half over, and Kevin and Jeremy had fallen into something of a routine. When Jean was playing and Kevin was home, Jeremy would show up a few minutes before the game began. After the first couple of times, he started to bring snacks, and after a few more, he started bringing takeout. He knew all of Kevin’s favorites.
He knew all of Jean’s favorites, too, and if he sometimes brought extra, well, it was hardly worth mentioning. Kevin just put the extra containers in the refrigerator at the end of the night.
They never went to waste.
Halftime had just ended, the leftovers were in the fridge, and Jeremy was watching Kevin as he returned to the sofa.
Kevin glanced over at him. “What?”
Jeremy shook his head. “Nothing. I just . . . thank you, for this. For letting me come over, and . . . and just letting me have this.” He tried to laugh, but it didn’t really work. “This has been one of the only good things about the last couple of months.”
“It’s nothing. I’d be watching the games, anyway.” He paused. “But, yeah, I’ve liked it, too.”
Jeremy took a breath. “Before . . . not just before Jean ended things, but before you . . .” He took another breath. “It seemed like we were maybe on the brink of . . . something.”
Kevin swallowed heavily. “We might have been.”
“Good,” said Jeremy, letting out the breath. “I was kind of starting to feel like I imagined it.”
“It was real,” said Kevin quietly.
Jeremy looked at him hopefully. “Do you think there’s any chance we could still . . .?”
“I don’t think Jean’s going to change his mind.”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Jeremy quickly. “He ended things, and I respect that, even if I still don’t really understand why. Even if I still wish he hadn’t.” His gaze was steady, and carefully neutral. “I was actually wondering if you thought there was any chance you and I could . . . I mean, I know he’s your best friend, and I probably shouldn’t even ask, but there’s something here, and I had to at least ask.”
Kevin hesitated. “I can’t. Not without Jean.”
Jeremy smiled sadly. “So I’ve lost my chance with both of you, huh?”
“It’s for the best,” said Kevin, looking away. “We’re—you can do a lot better than us.”
Jeremy looked up at the television, where Jean was going toe-to-toe with the opposing team’s striker. He swiped the ball on a bounce, and, for just a second, the camera was on his triumphant face before he threw the ball up to one of his own team’s dealers. “I don’t think I can,” said Jeremy.
Kevin didn’t have anything to say to that.
before
“Hey, so that play I was talking about—the baseball one, with that actor you like—it’s closing in a few weeks, so I figured we should go ahead and buy tickets,” said Jeremy. “How does the Saturday matinee sound to y’all?”
“No, we cannot go to that one. Kevin has an away game the next afternoon; he’ll be out of town.”
“Oh, shit, I forgot about travel time,” said Jeremy, nodding. “All right, then, let’s do the Thursday show instead.”
“I think you should stick with the Saturday one,” said Kevin.
Jeremy looked over at him and frowned. “But you can’t make the Saturday one.”
“I know,” said Kevin. “That’s—that’s kind of the point.”
“You will enjoy this one, if that’s what you are worried about” said Jean. “I know it’s baseball, but from what I’ve read about it, I think the themes will still resonate well.”
“It’s not that,” said Kevin quickly. “It’s just—the two of you should be doing more things without me.”
Jeremy shook his head. “We want you there.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“What? Why?” asked Jeremy.
“If we’re always doing stuff together—all three of us—people could get the wrong idea,” said Kevin.
Jeremy shook his head in confusion. “Who cares about the ideas people get?”
“I do,” said Kevin. “And you should, too.” He looked meaningfully at Jean, who looked away.
“Why?” asked Jeremy. “Strangers’ opinions don’t matter.”
“Not just strangers,” said Kevin. “People who matter. Coaches, managers.” He paused. “Your family.”
Jeremy frowned. “Is that what this is about? I know my family can be a little overwhelming, but they mean well. And they loved you!”
“They shouldn’t even know me!” Kevin ran a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s—I just complicate things. You and Jean are solid. You’re good. That’s okay, it’s normal. But I shouldn’t be getting up in the middle of things.”
“In the middle of—Kevin, we don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but this is—I mean, I thought we were all on the same page. Hell, I’m pretty sure my family’s on the same page, and I haven’t even said anything to them.”
Kevin’s eyes widened. “What would you say to them?”
“I don’t know!” said Jeremy. “That you’re a part of this! That they should expect to keep seeing you around! But I don’t have to say any of that, because they know. They can tell!”
“If they can tell, so can other people.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Kevin was silent.
Jeremy looked to Jean for support. “Well? Is it?”
Jean’s eyes were on Kevin. “I do not know,” he said slowly. He turned to Jeremy. “Can Kevin and I have a moment?” Jeremy didn’t move. “Alone?”
Jeremy’s mouth twisted. “What do you have to say that you can’t say in front of me?”
“S'il vous plait.”
Jeremy stared at him for a long moment, then deflated. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be . . .” He gestured vaguely and left the room.
As soon as he was gone, Jean rounded on Kevin. “Do you really think they’ll target him? For being with me?”
“For being with you? No,” said Kevin. “But—if he keeps being seen with both of us? If people are starting to make assumptions? That draws attention, and not the good kind.”
“What is to stop them from making the bad kind of assumptions if it is just Jeremy and me?”
Kevin narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about? Don’t people know you’re together already?”
Jean shook his head. “A few people did, at USC, before I graduated, and I assume most of your Fox friends know,” he said. “But my new team does not know anything about my personal life. And I think it would be best to keep it that way.”
“Nothing?” asked Kevin.
Jean shot him a look. “And what do your teammates know about your personal life?”
“That’s different,” said Kevin. “I don’t have a personal life.”
“Except when you are seen with me and Jeremy.” Kevin grimaced, and Jean’s eyebrows shot up. “That is the problem, isn’t it? You saw some tabloid article or something and you panicked.”
“There’s been more than one article,” said Kevin.
“I had hoped spending the holiday with his family would help.”
“That’s part of it, too,” said Kevin. “When we all went to visit Jeremy’s family for the holidays, it was . . .”
“Good?” Jean suggested. “Welcoming? Pleasant?”
“Comfortable,” said Kevin. “They were all so comfortable, and I felt like I was on fire. Come on, don ‘t tell me you didn’t feel it, too.”
“We could be comfortable, too.”
Kevin shook his head. “You could, maybe. But not with me there. It draws attention and increases the risk. He’s better off without me.”
Jean frowned. “He would strongly disagree with that statement.”
“And that’s why I’m just removing myself, whether he wants me to or not. You have to do that, sometimes, for people you care about.”
Jean’s lips were thin and his brow was drawn, but he nodded. “I will try to explain it to him. Without actually explaining it, of course.”
“Thank you.”
“And what about the two of us?” Jean asked. “Are you distancing yourself from me, as well?”
Kevin hesitated. “I should.”
Jean relaxed. “But you won’t.”
“I will, some,” said Kevin, “if just by nature of the fact that I’ll be keeping my distance from him, and from the two of you as a couple.”
“We will see.”
“Jean, I’m serious. I’m backing off.”
“That is not the part I was talking about.”
Kevin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
Jean paused, then shook his head. “Do not worry about it. One thing at a time.”
now
“I haven’t told my family yet,” said Jeremy. “They keep asking about him. And you. And I just pretend everything’s still okay.”
“Why?” asked Kevin.
“I don’t know,” said Jeremy. “It’s—easier? I don’t have to explain anything. I can pretend this is just some temporary blip that’s not worth mentioning.”
“They can’t help you through it if they don’t know something’s wrong,” said Kevin softly.
“Maybe I don’t want to get through it,” said Jeremy. “Maybe I want to go back to how things were.” He looked at Kevin. “You know, I don’t think we ever really bounced back from you leaving us. We didn’t last a month without you.”
Kevin shook his head. “I was—too much. You two were the ones in the relationship, not me.”
“You were, though,” said Jeremy. “We wanted you to be.”
“That was the problem.”
“I don’t think so,” said Jeremy. “We needed you.” He paused. “We still need you.”
“You don’t need either of us,” said Kevin.
“Yes, I do,” said Jeremy. “After you—I was so scared he’d leave, too, I was thinking about proposing.” He paused, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come. “He knew?”
Kevin nodded. “He knew.”
Jeremy sighed. “It wasn’t because it was the right time or because I wanted to, really. I was just scared and sad and desperate for some kind of assurance that he wouldn’t leave me, too.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
Jeremy shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And there’s not really anyone else I can talk to about it, is there? Jean blocked my number. My family doesn’t know anything yet. I don’t have to explain anything to you. And you’re still talking to me.”
“I probably shouldn’t be,” said Kevin.
Jeremy froze. “Please, no. Don’t—I’ll shut up about him. Whatever you need. I just—it’s been bad enough, losing one of you at a time. If neither of you—I don’t think I can handle that.”
“You could,” said Kevin. “That’s what I keep telling you.” Jeremy just stared, wide-eyed and still, and Kevin sighed. “You don’t have to, though. At least, not yet.”
Jeremy let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
Kevin looked back at the television. “They’re coming back from halftime.”
Jeremy nodded. The camera zoomed in on Jean, jogging back out onto the court, and neither of them said a word.
before
“He wants to get married, I think,” said Jean, staring into his drink.
Kevin blinked at him. “Congratulations?”
Jean shook his head. “How can I? What would they say?”
“They didn’t seem to have a problem with Neil and Andrew,” said Kevin slowly.
“That is different,” said Jean. “Minyard knows.”
“Jeremy could know, too,” said Kevin. There was a little too much compassion in his voice for it to come off as nonchalant.
“We have been over this,” said Jean. “Non. I am not going to do that to him.”
“Have you ever considered the possibility that he might want to know?” Kevin asked.
Jean looked at him incredulously. “Do you hear yourself?” he asked. “No sane person would want to get dragged into this.”
“For you, he might,” said Kevin.
“He shouldn’t,” said Jean, shaking his head. “I am not worth it.”
“I bet you’d do it for him, if your situations were reversed,” said Kevin.
“That is not the same.”
“Why?” asked Kevin. Jean didn’t answer. Kevin reached across the table and put his hand on Jean’s. “I would. For you. If I could choose—if I could have the yakuza out of my life forever, but it would mean losing you—I’d choose you.”
“I said no sane person would choose this,” said Jean wryly. “I do not think you qualify.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “I stand by it. I’d want to know. And I think Jeremy would, too.”
“He shouldn’t.”
“Maybe not,” Kevin shrugged.
“Who asked you, anyway?”
“Well, you’re the one who came to my house and brought it up, so you, technically.”
“I did not ask for this,” said Jean. “Can you just let me be upset about the fact that the man I love might want to propose to me?”
Kevin sighed. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“This is your fault, you know,” said Jean.
“How?” Kevin asked, blinking at him.
“You left us.”
“I didn’t leave you.”
“Not this time.” Kevin flinched, and Jean sighed. “I know you didn’t—I should not have said that.”
“It was true.”
“That does not mean it needed to be said.”
Kevin nodded in acknowledgement. “So, can we get back to the part where you explain how your relationship problems are my fault?”
“We were balanced, the three of us,” said Jean. “It was like a triangle. Strong. And then you pulled a leg out from under us. Now it is Jeremy and me, and it is you and me, and it is not balanced anymore.”
“I don’t think the Little Lord cares about balance.”
“We do not know if would have been a problem,” said Jean. “We do not know it would have been more of a problem that it is to just be with me.”
“It’s pretty basic logic,” said Kevin. “More of us around him means more attention on him. And anything abnormal means they’re less likely to be okay with it.”
“I suppose.” Jean sighed. “Without you, though, all I can think about is the ways I am putting him in danger.”
“It’s manageable, with just the two of you,” said Kevin. “Two’s company, three’s a crowd.”
“It did not feel crowded,” said Jean. “It felt better. More complete.”
“That just proves I was right,” said Kevin. “I was coming between you and Jeremy.”
“You are not listening,” said Jean. “You were not coming between us; you were holding us up.”
Kevin was quiet for a minute. “Maybe you should spend less time with me, too.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You should figure things out with Jeremy. Work out what kind of future you think they’ll let you have.”
Jean looked at him incredulously. “You just told me you would risk death rather than lose me. And now you are telling me to go away?”
“This isn’t about what I want,” said Kevin.
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t about what I want.”
“It should be,” said Kevin insistently.
“It never is.”
Kevin didn’t have anything to say to that.
now
Jean opened the fridge, frowned at the takeout containers, and closed it again. “You’re still spending time with him.”
“Not a lot,” said Kevin. “Only during your games.”
“Oh, well, if it’s only that.”
“I’ve tried to stop,” said Kevin. “I’ve told him we should stop, but . . . he needs this.”
“What he needs is to be safe,” said Jean. “I thought we agreed that this is not possible if he continues to be around us.”
“What am I supposed to do?” asked Kevin. “He’s already hurting. He’s vulnerable. He doesn’t have anyone else to talk to about any of this.”
“He has other friends,” said Jean. “He has a family that loves him. If we give him enough space, maybe he will remember that.”
“Or maybe he’ll spiral. Maybe he’ll get worse. Maybe he’ll do something desperate or stupid.”
“Maybe he’ll heal!” said Jean. “Maybe he’ll finally have the time and the space to get over us!”
Kevin was quiet. “You’re probably right,” he said eventually. “I just hate this.”
“Really? I am having a wonderful time,” said Jean flatly.
“I know this sucks for you, too,” said Kevin.
“Oui.” Jean looked down. “I cannot decide whether I should be jealous of you.”
“Of me?”
“You get to see him. To spend time with him.” He tilted his head to the side. “But, on the other hand, you have to see him in pain. I can pretend he is okay.”
“Was it better for you? When I left, and you were the one who got to spend time with him?”
Jean hummed.
“I didn’t think so.” Kevin sighed. “The season’s ending soon. I’ll end it by then.”
Jean’s eyes were dull, but there was relief in his voice. “Thank you.”
before
Kevin wasn’t expecting to run into Jeremy on the subway platform, so by the time he recognized him, it was too late to avoid him.
“Kevin!” said Jeremy. His tone was bright, but he was approaching Kevin like he was a wild animal who might bolt at any second. Kevin was very much looking the part of the startled animal. “It’s good to see you! How have you been?”
“Oh. Um, good, I’m good. Just—busy.” Kevin held up his phone as if he were doing something with it.
Jeremy’s smile faltered. “I won’t keep you long,” he said. “Since I have you, though, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask,” said Kevin cautiously. “That doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough,” said Jeremy. He took a deep breath. “It’s Jean. He’s been . . . off. At first, I thought he was just missing you, but you’ve been spending more time together again lately, right?”
“We have,” said Kevin, his expression guarded.
Jeremy nodded. “That’s what I thought. So, it’s not that, which means it’s got to be something else. I just wanted to know—has he said anything to you? Do you have any idea what’s up?”
Kevin looked away. “You should talk to him.”
“So you do know,” said Jeremy, “and there’s something for us to talk about.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Jeremy sighed. “Any other hints you can give me?”
“A Manhattan bound local 7 train is now arriving. Please stand clear of the platform edge.”
Kevin gestured towards the train that was pulling into the station. “I should be going.”
Jeremy’s face fell. “Oh, you’re—I would’ve thought you’d be heading the other direction.”
“Nope,” said Kevin. “Anyway, it was—um—see you around. Or—not.”
He got on the train and deliberately didn’t look out the window to see whether Jeremy was watching him from the platform. And he waited until he had gone two stops in the wrong direction to get off and transfer back towards Queens, just to make sure Jeremy would be gone by the time he passed back through the station where he’d left him.
now
The game was ending, and Jeremy was slowly getting up to leave again—to be gone well before Jean made it back. It was a familiar dance, and Jeremy tensed as soon as Kevin stepped away from the choreography.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Kevin slowly, as if each word were being dragged from his lips, “we should probably stop doing this.”
“Being friends?” asked Jeremy sadly.
Kevin looked away. “Yeah. Probably.”
“The season’s almost over.”
“So you knew this would have to end soon, anyway,” said Kevin. “It’s not like you can come over when Jean’s here.”
“We could hang out somewhere else.” Jeremy took a half-step back towards Kevin. “You could come over to our—to my place. You used to, you know.”
“That was before,” said Kevin.
“He knows we still see each other, doesn’t he?” asked Jeremy.
“Yes,” said Kevin reluctantly.
“Oh. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He doesn’t want us to.”
“It’s not that,” said Kevin.
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “So he’s cool with us still being friends?”
Kevin was a little bit too slow with his answer. “Yes.”
“Don’t lie to me, Kev,” said Jeremy. His shoulders were low, and his face was strained. “Just—please don’t lie.”
Kevin closed his eyes and sighed. “He’d rather we weren’t.”
“Why?” asked Jeremy. His voice broke a little. “I get that you were his friend first, and I would never try to get you to pick me over him or anything, but—can’t I have a piece of you, too?”
“He thinks it would be . . .” Kevin paused. “Cleaner, if you spend less time with both of us.”
“Cleaner?”
“Better,” said Kevin. “For you. He’s only thinking of you.”
“Of me?” Jeremy laughed. “If he were thinking of me, he wouldn’t have . . .” He hesitated. “Is it—does this have something to do with why he broke up with me?”
Kevin frowned. “What are you asking?”
“Did he break up with me for the same reason he doesn’t want the two of us to spend time together?”
Kevin swallowed and looked away. “What kind of reason would that possibly be?”
“It is,” said Jeremy, gaining confidence. “It’s—is he jealous of us? Or—are the two of you—?”
“No,” said Kevin quickly. “Nothing like that.”
“All right, then,” said Jeremy. For a second, some of the tension left his shoulders, but then he steeled himself. “Is it the Moriyamas? There’s a deal you have, right? You, Jean, and Josten. Is there something about the deal that’s making the two of you push me away?”
Kevin paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Pain crossed Jeremy’s face, then resignation. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said. “Just—come on. Please don’t lie. I think I deserve that much.”
“What makes you think there’s a deal?” asked Kevin carefully.
“Clever,” said Jeremy. “Can’t lie if you’re asking questions.” Kevin just stared back at him, and he sighed. “It’s a lot of little things. The way the three of you look at each other sometimes, and have those intense conversations in French and then pretend nothing’s wrong. The way Jean would sometimes answer a call in Japanese and not want to talk to me about it afterwards. The way he was so determined to go pro—to stay pro—when I’m not even sure he likes exy.”
“So, obviously, you decided we’ve got some kind of deal with Riko’s family?” Kevin deflected.
“I looked up Riko’s brother,” said Jeremy, and Kevin flinched. “Nothing too over-the-top—just some basic internet searches. There wasn’t a whole lot to find. He’s a businessman, like their father, but no one ever really says what kind of business they do.”
Kevin ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were wide, and he was looking anywhere but at Jeremy. “You’re making some pretty big leaps.”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” said Jeremy. “Look me in the eye and tell me I’m totally off base.”
Kevin closed his eyes. “If you were right,” he said, “what makes you think it would be safe for you to know about it? For you to talk about it?”
“I’m not talking about it to anyone else,” said Jeremy, holding up his hands. “I didn’t share my suspicions with anyone. Hell, I didn’t even talk to Jean. I kept waiting for him to talk to me, but . . .” He shrugged.
“He’s keeping you safe,” said Kevin. “Or trying to, at least.”
“What if I don’t want safety?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Because he won’t tell me,” said Jeremy, frustrated.
“This isn’t—there’s no testing the waters with this,” said Kevin, equally frustrated. “Either you don’t know, or you know, and once you know, it’s too late.”
“So that’s it, then. That is the reason he ended things.” His frustration was starting to blend with sadness. “And it’s why you’ve been acting weird and distancing yourself, too, isn’t it. At first, I thought you had some unfounded concern about coming between me and Jean, and then I thought you were just trying to be careful about taking sides in the breakup, but it’s more than that. You’re trying to get rid of me—what, for my own safety?”
“At first—before the breakup—it was partially the first one, too” Kevin admitted.
“That makes sense,” said Jeremy, face drawn, nodding. “So, you started having concerns first, and then Jean fed off of them because you weren’t in a position to talk him down, and now you’re both pushing me away out of some kind of misguided interest in my wellbeing.”
“How is it misguided to worry about putting you on the radar of a group of very dangerous people?” asked Kevin, his voice rising. “We are not safe people to be close to. I’m sorry you’re emotionally hurting, but that’s better than dead.”
Jeremy laughed bitterly. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t I get to make that decision for myself?”
“Jean and I didn’t get a choice in the matter for ourselves,” said Kevin. “Jean wouldn’t have picked this, if he’d had the option. Is it so unreasonable that he’d try to keep you out of it when he had the chance?”
Jeremy tilted his head. “If it had just been up to you, would you have told me?”
“It’s not up to me,” said Kevin. “Or—it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be.”
“Oh, come on, Kev,” said Jeremy. “You’re just as much a part of this as Jean and me.”
“I’m not,” Kevin insisted.
“You were supposed to be. That’s what we both wanted—what we thought you wanted, too. What we thought things were building towards.” Jeremy hesitated. “You did want it, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” Kevin snapped. “Who wouldn’t?”
Jeremy snorted. “A lot of people.” Kevin looked skeptical, and Jeremy sighed. “I’m overeager, and I’m too scared of rocking the boat to handle necessary confrontation. Jean can be abrasive, and he bottles things up and won’t let people in.” He raised an eyebrow at Kevin. “You’re not perfect, either, but you helped keep us in balance. You’ll say the things that need to be said—usually, at least—and sometimes you’ll push too much, but it turns out, that’s way better than not pushing at all.”
Kevin stared at him for a minute, then he pressed his lips together. “He’s not wrong, you know. They’re dangerous—for us, and for you, if you’re with us. One of them came to your house, looking for Jean. That’s—that was the final straw.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh.” He paused, processing, and then he gave a nod. “I guess it makes sense that they’d know where he lives. And I’m assuming whatever they wanted to talk about wasn’t exactly something they could chat about in public. Do you know why they came?”
“Just a check-in, I think. A reminder that they can.”
“So nothing was wrong? It wasn’t a threat or anything?”
“No more than any other visit.”
“Okay.” Jeremy let out a breath. “I just wish he’d talked to me about it.”
Kevin looked at him levelly. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course.”
“Do you really mean that?” Kevin asked again. “Right now, you could still walk away. You could forget everything we’ve said tonight, everything you thought you figured out, and you could go live a safe, happy life far away from all of this.”
“And far away from you and Jean.”
Kevin didn’t say anything. The yes was loud in the silence.
“That’s what I thought,” said Jeremy. He set his shoulders. “I know what I know. And I don’t see myself forgetting it any time soon.”
“Okay,” said Kevin, and he smiled a little. “Then you should probably stick around until Jean gets home.”
before
“He misses you, you know.”
Kevin sat up straighter on the sofa. “Why would you tell me that?”
“Because it is true,” Jean said with a shrug. “You should see the way he looks at me when I’m about to come over here, or when I get home. He desperately wants to ask me to tell you hello for him, or to tell him how you are doing. But he will not, because he is a better person than we are.”
“Maybe he’s too good,” said Kevin with a snort.
Jean frowned. “That is what I have been telling you. He is too good for me. For either of us.”
Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said. He deserves better than either of us.”
“No,” said Kevin, shaking his head. “That’s not why I did this. I’m staying away so it’s safer for you to be with him.”
“Safer is not the same as safe,” said Jean.
“Nothing is safe for us.”
“Exactly,” said Jean, nodding. “But most things could be safe, for him.”
Kevin stared at him intently. “Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
Jean’s face twisted. “No. Not yet, at least. I do not want to lose him. It is just getting harder and harder to convince myself that I am not being unforgivably selfish by staying.”
“However much he might miss me, he would miss you more.”
“Maybe so,” said Jean. “He does miss you, though.”
“And what, exactly, do you want me to do about that?” asked Kevin, his voice raw.
Jean was silent.
“You’ve got a real shot, now,” said Kevin. “Without . . . complications.”
“There are always complications.”
“With fewer complications, then.”
Jean shrugged. “You might be right. But it feels much more complicated now than it did with you.”
This time, Kevin was the one who stayed silent.
now
Jean froze as soon as he walked in the door. “What is he doing here?” he asked Kevin in rapid French.
“He knows,” said Kevin in weary English.
“He what?” Jean’s eyes were wide and panicked. “You told him?”
“I figured it out,” said Jeremy.
Jean dropped his bag with a clunk. “When? How?”
“A while ago, I guess” said Jeremy. “I kept waiting for you to tell me, but . . .” he shrugged. “You didn’t. And then it was too late.”
“Non,” said Jean. “You do not know what you are saying.” He looked at Kevin. “Tell me he is not saying what I think he is.”
“He knows about the Moriyamas,” said Kevin. “Not the details—I haven’t told him any more than he was able to guess—but he knows. He wants to know.”
Jean’s expression was a tumultuous mix of anger, fear, and devastation as he turned back to Jeremy. “No. Whatever you think you know, you are wrong. Just—let it go. Let me go. You can still walk away unscathed.”
Jeremy took a step forward. “If this is what ‘unscathed’ looks like, I don’t want it,” he said.
“You do not know what you are saying.”
“Yeah, I do,” said Jeremy. “I’ve got a choice, here, and I’m choosing you.” He looked back over his shoulder at Kevin. “Both of you.”
“That is a terrible decision,” said Jean. “I will not—I cannot—let you get yourself killed.”
“Do you remember,” asked Kevin tentatively, “the conversation we had, about how it would be nice if there were some way he could know enough to make an informed decision, without knowing so much it takes away the choice?” He waited for Jean to nod tightly. “This is as close to that as we could possibly hope to get.”
Jean rounded on Jeremy. “Do you have a death wish?”
“No,” said Jeremy earnestly, taking another step forward. “I miss you. I’ve been miserable without you. This thing with the Moriyamas—it’s a risk, not a death sentence. And I’m willing to take that risk.”
“You shouldn’t be,” said Jean. “I don’t want you to be. I am explicitly asking you not to be.”
“Well, I am,” said Jeremy with a shrug.
Jean shook his head. “Think about what you are saying. Once you know—once you actually know—this is not something you can back away from.”
“I know,” said Jeremy. “Kevin hit all the same talking points an hour ago. I’m not saying any of this lightly.”
“He’s really thought about it,” said Kevin, taking a step closer. “He has a choice, here, and he’s making it. He’s choosing us.”
“Why?” asked Jean, his voice breaking.
“These past few months—first without Kevin, then without you—it’s been hell,” said Jeremy.
“It’s been hell for all of us,” said Kevin.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” asked Jean. “Do you think I broke things off because I thought it would be fun? Do you think I blocked his number because I wanted to? Do you think I unraveled the best relationship I’ve ever had—I could ever hope to have—because I thought it would be easy for me?”
“Of course not,” said Kevin. “You did what you thought you needed to do.”
“You made the same choice I did,” said Jean. “You gave him up first.”
“And I’m asking you both not to,” said Jeremy. “Giving me up—that wasn’t the choice either of you wanted to make, right? It was one you felt like you had to make.”
“Yes,” said Kevin.
Jean took a moment longer to respond, but he nodded. “Yes.”
Jeremy took another step forward. “Well, now, you get to make a real choice, based on what you want. Not what you’re afraid of. Not the things that haunt you. You can choose for you.”
“You can still walk away,” said Jean. “You can walk out this door. It may take time, but eventually, you will not even think of me anymore. Or Kevin. Only when you see us play, on the television.”
“Jean,” said Jeremy, shaking his head, “I think about you all the time.” He took a breath. “I know the risks, and you’re worth it. Both of you. I’ve made my choice, and I think Kevin has, too. So, what’s yours?”
Jean stood frozen for a moment, eyes darting between Jeremy and Kevin. The air was thick with the pain of indecision. Then, in a rush, Jean closed the last of the distance between himself and Jeremy and pulled him into a tight hug. “You,” he said, drawing in a shaky breath. He reached out to pull Kevin into the hug, too. “I choose you.”
later
“You know,” said Jeremy, looking over at Jean on the lounge chair next to him, “retirement looks good on you.”
“Freedom looks good on us,” said Kevin from his other side.
Jean smiled. “It really does.”
“We’ve never looked better,” Jeremy agreed. “And I don’t think it’s just this gorgeous view,” he said, gesturing in front of them. Rolling hills stretched as far as they could see, bathed in the gentle glow of evening sunlight.
“This is a very nice vacation,” said Jean. “I would say we should travel more often, but, thanks to Kevin, we are still limited by the professional exy schedule,” he added teasingly.
“The two of you could travel without me, you know,” said Kevin.
“Oh, no,” said Jeremy. “We are not going through that again.”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” said Kevin.
“I know,” said Jeremy. “I’m just not taking any chances.”
“Are you looking forward to it?” asked Jean. “This next exy season—it will be your first without any ties to them.”
“Yeah,” said Kevin, grinning slowly. “Yeah, I am. I mean, on one hand, it’s really not any different. I’m with the same team, playing the same game. And I’ve always loved exy.”
“But?” Jean prompted.
“But,” said Kevin with a nod, “I’m really excited to see what it’s like to play just because I want to. Not because I need to.”
“You’re going to love it,” said Jeremy, beaming.
“And I am going to love cheering you on from the stands,” said Jean.
Kevin looked at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to play one more season? To see what it’s like, without them breathing down your neck?”
“I am sure,” said Jean. “More certain that I have been of anything.” He looked at Jeremy and Kevin, and he smiled. “Well, almost anything,” he amended.
“I think we’ve all got just what we wanted,” said Jeremy.
And they got to keep it.