Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was late.

Not that he could tell from here, staring up into the bright strobing ceiling, colors exploding across his vision in an ugly myriad that would likely have been disorienting to anyone who wasn’t entirely familiar with the experience of being shitfaced drunk in a nightclub. He hadn’t checked his phone for the time in what felt like hours.

No, Jamie thought, as he angled his head back down to muse at the almost empty bottle of spirits dangling between his fingers. He knew it was late, because he couldn’t see clearly anymore, and Jamie Siu never got this fucked up before three, just on principle. Not even when something was bothering him as bad as this.

He’d given himself hours before he’d started on the hard stuff, hoping that either the familiar distraction of the atmosphere or the ever-present allure of the dancefloor would wipe the slate of his busy mind clean, and yet…

Toying with the rim of the bottle, he pursed his lips in annoyance.

Luke Sullivan’s infuriating, empty-headed, golden retriever-esque smile was still burned into the backs of his eyelids, and he was getting drunk enough that he’d begrudgingly decided it was probably time he acknowledged a few things about himself.

One, that he was genuinely attracted to that idiot — but he was most definitely not acting like a lovesick teenager about it, no matter what Kim said — and two, that it was more than likely he did not have a chance in hell with him.

The latter stung more to admit.

Jamie knew how to flaunt his confidence, when it came down to it. He knew he was attractive — put in endless effort to keep himself looking as good as he did, and he’d never been shy about turning up the charm when he was trying to pick people up. That was usually enough for places like this, people he tended to go for in short-term flings, but as always, Luke just had to make himself as infuriating to deal with as possible, because at this point he’d thrown the whole bag of tricks at him and nothing had worked.

Subtly, of course, because he’d rather die than give him anything to lord over him in any situation, but overt enough that it would be toeing the line of ridiculous for Luke still not to have noticed what he was doing. He’d sifted through his whole wardrobe at this point. Mixed and matched his threads, put clothes on, taken them off, styled his hair differently, let it down, made every single minute adjustment to his appearance possible that he knew had him looking irresistible, and yet…

And yet. Luke had never shown any interest in him whatsoever.

No matter what he looked like, no matter how much effort he’d put into showing off, aside from his skill in combat and apparently in pissing the other man off, Jamie was almost certain by now that Luke had never spared him a second glance for as long as they’d known each other.

To his credit, he supposed they weren’t that close to begin with. He didn’t even have the guy’s number saved. He had it, just because Kim had gotten sick of being the middleman every time she wanted to hang out and just added them all to a chat group. Aside from the aforementioned Kim Sanctioned Hangouts they’d seen each other at, they’d gone for post-fight drinks before, eaten together after some late sparring sessions at the gym a couple times, so it wasn't like they didn't talk at all.

It just didn't happen often enough for Jamie to really have gotten to know him. He’d learned some things about Luke along the way, though.

He liked gaming. He missed his late father. Had been trying to live the rest of his life in a way that honored his memory.

Jamie could respect that as much as he respected the undeniable strength the guy embodied both in body and mind; he’d come to admire the mental fortitude it took to bounce back from something like that and keep going. On the physical side of things, well, his body spoke enough about his personal pursuit of strength and ideals, and Jamie was only human. Sue him, the big guy was hot. Funny, even, if he closed one eye to the near-constant stream of internet memes he liked to reference in daily conversation.

So he found Luke Sullivan attractive. Water was wet, sky was blue. That wasn't the issue, at least not anymore.

The real problem was that he’d just straight up never looked Jamie’s way without a proxy reason; Kim, a dumb argument, a rematch, whatever.

A droplet of water slid down the side of the bottle, ran cold over his fingers. He followed the trail of it with his eyes, down, down, until it touched the table, then focused instead on the wet glass, staring at the tiny beads of condensation gathered on its surface.

In their reflection, he noticed himself frowning, deep enough that it startled him.

…Yeah, okay.

It really did cut deep that Luke didn’t even seem to be superficially interested in him, though he supposed it wasn’t that surprising. Maybe Jamie just wasn’t his type.

Luke was a nice guy, polite despite the roughness around his edges, when he wasn’t bristling with aggression trying to pick fights with him. But the rest of him was so much the splitting image of all-American hypermasculinity that Jamie would’ve been genuinely surprised if his type turned out to be anything but pretty blonde girls with huge racks. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but…

Jamie stared down at his unfinished drink, his chest feeling uncomfortably stifled.

Get over it, the rational part of his brain said. You could probably bag anyone else you wanted to go for. Why are you so stuck on this fool? He doesn’t even like you.

And therein lay the problem; Jamie mused, as he slammed the remainder of the bottle back like a shot. He did want Luke to like him. The admission of it was almost pathetic.

With an irritated groan, he buried his face in his arms, slumping over the bar counter. Their last couple fights had all been blowouts on his end, no thanks to this little distraction of his. It didn’t help that Luke’s style was particularly close-contact; every time the fucker wrestled him to the floor his brain would start drawing blanks, and his ground game was already criminally shit.

It’d probably be months before the asshole would stop rubbing it in.

Worst of all was that his stupid crush showed no signs of abating either, no matter how hard he tried. He’d come here tonight specifically to distract himself — get a couple drinks in, have fun dancing, maybe go home with someone that wasn’t living in his head, but that hadn’t really gone well for him thus far. Sure, he’d caught some people giving him a once-over, but his brain had been so stuck on the dummy he hadn’t wanted to start anything all night.

As it turned out, having his thoughts occupied by one stupid man made it a little harder to think about picking up anyone else.

Ugh.

Waving the bartender over to pick up his tab, Jamie couldn’t help but sigh. He supposed he’d just consign himself to another night of falling asleep alone in his shitty apartment. At least with how drunk he was his thoughts wouldn’t get to wander for too long.

The bartender was a short, young woman who usually worked the night shift on weekdays. He’d spoken to her a few times, once to check if he could throw some violent drunks outside, and several other times on slower nights, when he just wanted to drink and chat. She usually didn’t pay attention to how much he drank — he’d proved his tolerance was higher than most on more than one occasion, and she knew he lived within walking distance, it wasn’t like he was going to drive or anything.

Even still, she was giving him a sharp side-eye as she swiped his card in the reader.

Oh, good, Jamie thought, so he did look absolutely blasted.

Still, she was a polite kid, and as he’d expected all she said was, “Siu, if you need any help getting home, let me know,” before she returned him his card.

Folding it back into his wallet, he waved dismissively, and hopped off the bar stool, pointedly using every single bit of his balance training to not sway on his feet. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for checkin’ in, though. I’ll see ya around.”

Her brow was raised, but she shrugged regardless, and turned back to the counter.

Jamie shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way out of the club, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the sickeningly familiar sense of emptiness sitting heavy in his chest. It wasn’t that deep. A shower and a nap would fix things, he’d be fine by morning.

He was Jamie Siu, the one and only. Self-made, peacekeeper extraordinaire.

He didn’t need that damn meathead; he didn’t need anyone.

Breaths coming sharp and fast, eyes focused, Luke fired off two quick jabs at the sandbag in front of him, then ducked sharply, dodging around the fists of an imaginary opponent. Sweat spattered the mat, his damp hair matted against his forehead as his fists flew in a flurry of rapid blows.

It was late, and the rest of the trainees had long since cleared out of the gym. Technically, the place stayed open 24/7, but most of the Buckler recruits tended to keep a regular life schedule about them. The place was almost always empty by ten. It was currently about one in the morning. He hadn’t meant to stay this late, but he’d lost track of time mid-workout.

If you asked Luke, late nights were his favorite part of the working day.

Sure, he enjoyed the social energy of the gym in the daytime, and it wasn’t like sparring with the trainees was the absolute worst thing on the planet, but he’d always been a fan of solo workout sessions, and those had come few and far in between with all his coaching responsibilities. He was lucky if he even got a moment alone during the day.

He breathed out slow, then lunged for a nasty uppercut that set the chain rattling up above.

Yeah, Luke thought, this is where it’s at.

He appreciated the freedom being alone gave him. When he was around others, it was rare that he could go as hard on himself as he wanted to — hard enough to empty his mind and really run himself ragged — without anyone asking him if he was alright, if he needed to take a breather.

One, two. Sway left, right, one, two.

It wasn’t like he was going at it angry, or even frustrated. He just always seemed to have some sort of pent up energy that came pouring out unrestrained whenever his blood really got pumping. Whether all that energy was positive or negative wasn’t something he’d personally bothered or even wanted to think too much about. All he knew was that it had to go somewhere, and burning it out of himself through exertion had been the tried-and-true method he’d turned to for years.

Only now that he’d been put on what the rest of the guys referred to as “babysitting duty”, that had made that impossible as long as he was working. At least when he’d been active, he could rope his coworkers into sparring with him, even if they didn’t push him as hard as he wanted.

Now his job demanded he sit there and watch for the majority of the day, taking notes on form and balance and footwork so he could actually give the recruits proper pointers. He'd said he'd do his best at the whole coach thing, but he was starting to think he really wasn't cut out for it. It made it worse, that on the rare occasion they’d ask for sessions with him, those demanded control rather than the ability to let loose.

The only person left that could indulge him in a real beatdown, no-holds-barred, had been sandbagging him for fucking weeks, for whatever reason he could only imagine. He’d been dodging Siu at every street corner he could usually be found on, avoiding the bars he knew the guy frequented, because he didn’t want to run into him, feel his blood pressure spike and then beat the shit out of him in a landslide victory that felt infinitely more frustrating than losing, or not getting in a fight with him at all.

Which left him to spend his evenings either at home watching his online ArcadeFight rank in three different games deteriorate for hours because he was tilting like crazy, or in here, exhausting himself at ungodly hours of the morning, until he finally felt empty enough to head straight home and pass out.

One was just the slightest bit more satisfying than the other, even if both left him feeling equally hollow.

Luke exhaled and spun on his heel, striking the bag with a sharp spin kick. Shuffled in place, felt the rush of blood in his veins, the strain in his muscles. Good. Needed more of that, needed to empty his mind.

What was with Jamie lately? Even thinking about the guy got him more heated than usual. He’d just been so unnecessarily showy.

Every time he saw the guy, he was either in some new, ostentatious fit with jewelry to match, or all his clothes were hanging half off of his body like actually wearing them was going out of style. And Luke was no expert in this stuff, but he was pretty sure his makeup had looked different, too; sharper, bolder than normal. Maybe he’d gotten into a new relationship, or was trying to, or something. Luke didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it.

It was like Siu was trying to prove that he could look good in literally anything he wanted to wear. Some real poser shit, if you asked him.

It wasn’t like he needed to prove something everybody already knew, Luke thought, bitterly, and threw the last of his energy into a knee that rattled the chain, this time as loud as a thunderclap echoing in the silence of the gym.

The reverberation of it sank into him the same time exhaustion did, finally, and he let out a huff of air that sounded more like a sigh. His heart was still pounding, his breathing quickened to match, but that stir-crazy, frustrated haze he’d sunk into was starting to clear. Why the hell was he all mad over Jamie dressing up, again?

He could practically hear the other man’s teasing lilt in his head, “What’s wrong, boy scout? Jealousy is a bad look on you.” And he’d be right, because however Siu wanted to flaunt his casual confidence and desirability shouldn’t have been any of his damn business, and yet it felt like a personal attack on him and the accursed perma-bachelor lifestyle that made up the majority of his never-changing daily routine.

He supposed it was the implication that Jamie was out there doing whatever he wanted, dressing however he wanted, getting whoever he wanted, while Luke was just stuck here, that was getting to him. Making him realize how lonely he was, just in a really stupid, competitive way.

Jesus. What the fuck was wrong with his thoughts lately?

Luke grimaced. He needed to get out more often. Spending every other hour of his free time online or otherwise away from other human beings clearly wasn’t doing him any favors.

Bouncing on his toes, he shook his hands out, trying to fizzle out any remaining aggression in his body before he started his cooldowns.

Fuck it. Ever since he’d been put on the new job it’d swallowed his life whole, and before that his work schedules had been far too spotty to commit to anything, serious or otherwise. It’d been some time since he’d even tried putting himself out there, but he figured it was worth a shot.

At the very least, that app all the younger guys were using nowadays didn’t seem like too much of a time commitment. He’d make one before bed, he figured. Surely it wouldn’t take too long.

Not even two hours later, Luke was sprawled out on his bed in his boxers, hair freshly damp from a shower, staring blankly at his phone. His empty Grindr profile page stared back at him, and he wondered where he should even start with it.

What did people put on these things?

He’d settled on just Luke as his display name. It wasn’t like it was a particularly uncommon name, and his tattoos were distinctive enough that anyone who’d seen them before would probably recognise him regardless of whatever name he used. In terms of safety, he’d figured he could handle himself. Everything factual wasn’t too hard to fill in, it wasn’t like he publicly had a lot to hide.

It was the description that was the hard part. He wasn’t sure if he should put down his job; he didn’t want to disclose it, technically couldn’t, either, but he didn’t want to look like an unemployed bum.

Luke stared long and hard at the screen, and settled for gym instructor.

It was a struggle trying not to make his dating app profile sound like his corporate blurb on the company website, but he eventually scraped together something that he figured sounded personable enough. Gym instructor & gamer. Looking for something casual, fun or friends. Hmu to chat!

Whatever, he could edit it later. His brain probably wasn’t fantastic at selling the idea of himself on a dating site too hard at three in the morning.

Alright. Pictures, and then he was done.

Opening his phone gallery, Luke paused, and scrolled past at least a full screen of spreadsheets from work. Names of new recruits, finances, whatever management had piled onto him to scan and file every other week. There were the occasional receipts from the last couple times he’d hung out with Kim and Jamie, pictures from friends his messenger apps had automatically downloaded, and then another series of spreadsheets.

There were close to no recent images of him in there. He shook his head in disbelief. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Well. Okay. He could sift through the ones he did have.

There was a picture of him in a dumb hat, a souvenir one of the trainees had gotten him over the Christmas break. That was good enough, something casual and funny. Awful for a first image, though, he thought, and scrolled further.

A group picture he’d taken with Kimberly and Jamie was the next thing he found, a selfie of the three of them at a board game café Kim had wanted to bring them to. Somewhere she’d frequented in college, right in the middle of the city district, so he’d actually dressed to go out that day. Didn't look too bad, and it wasn't like board games were the nerdiest thing he enjoyed. Yeah, okay, this would work.

Briefly, Luke wondered if they’d be pissed if he put their faces out on an app he was more than likely going to use to get laid. Probably.

He took a screenshot of the image instead, and scribbled over their faces with the image editor. Then, almost as an afterthought, circled himself and drew a little arrow pointing right at his face.

Luke couldn’t help but snort looking at the picture. There was no way this was going to get him any, but he supposed anyone who messaged him after seeing a picture like this in his gallery would really have to be into him. Or a bot. One or the other.

As he scrolled up to the last of his pictures he could consider recent, only one more caught his eye. A photo he’d taken on holiday, right after they’d taken him off duty post-Nayshall incident. He’d gone to Brazil, had managed to snap a photo with the local mascot while in a matching t-shirt. Like most of the pictures of himself he was still keeping, it wasn’t awful, was just about the only picture he had that showed his whole body. Just for variety, he added it to the gallery.

Flipping through the three pictures of himself he'd pulled, Luke made a face. They were all fine, but awful picks for a first image no matter how he looked at it.

His gaze drifted over to his phone camera.

The tiny lens stared back at him, glinting in the overhead light, and he sighed. He supposed it was time for ol’ faithful.

Luke switched his camera to selfie mode, raised it above his head and angled himself so the room light caught his good side. Swiped his free hand through his hair, took a second to fix the sweep of it before he snapped a picture.

High angle, top-down, looking into the camera, shirtless with his hair still wet. He’d never looked more like a fuckboy in recent years, and the sight of it made him laugh. It was good to know he still had it.

He set it as his main profile picture, put the rest behind it, then hit save and closed the app. Alright. Enough of that for today. He’d pick it back up tomorrow, after he was done with work.

Pillowing his damp hair on folded arms, Luke stared at the ceiling, and felt his insides stir with an excitement, a prickling anticipation for something different that he’d been sorely missing for months straight, by now. Maybe it was good that he’d finally gotten off his ass and taken matters into his own hands.

He’d supposed he’d see how successful this was tomorrow. If he could survive whatever damage he’d just done to his sleep schedule messing around like this on a weekday.

Halfway across Metro City, draped lazily over his couch, waiting for his wet hair to dry, Jamie Siu stopped in the middle of idly scrolling on his phone. Started so abruptly he nearly dropped it on the floor, his eyes wide.

“You have to be shitting me.”

Chapter Text

Metro City’s pier was one of the best outdoor hangout spots in the business. Food truck vendors had their stalls up and running throughout the day, there were enough benches lining the pier to sit and relax unless it was summer, and the adjacent sea breeze meant it was never too stuffy, even when it was hot out. In the late morning, the view of the bay was gorgeous, too, all bright sun and glittering waves.

But Jamie was too busy squinting into the wood grain of the park table they were seated at, trying to will away what was possibly the worst hangover migraine he’d given himself in months to care about the skyline at the moment.

“He’s on Grindr, Kim. Grindr! What the hell.”

Index fingers pressed to his temples, Jamie glared miserably at nothing in particular. His food was starting to get cold, the fermented cabbage piled on top of the hotdog still sitting untouched in its paper packaging creating a sad, wet puddle right under the now-soggy bun.

On any other day, he’d be all over hangover cure food like this, but his stomach hadn’t been sitting right with him since the night before.

“So? At least now you know he likes guys,” Kimberly pointed out, giving him a look as she took a bite out of her own, significantly less wet hotdog bun. “I told you that weeks ago though, and you didn’t believe me.”

It was too fucking bright out. Jamie pressed his forehead against the cool glass, groaning half in frustration and half because of the dull ache still pulsing in his head.

“Grindr. And his profile is so fucking basic. Where did I go wrong?”

Unimpressed, Kim set her hotdog down in its paper wrapping, and levelled him with a raised eyebrow. She figured she was probably going to need to talk for a minute. “Do you actually want me to tell you, or did you wanna just keep throwing yourself that pity party down there?”

Without looking up from the table, he raised a hand and gestured vaguely in her direction. “Party’s over. Do your worst.”

“You’re not talking to him, J. You guys don’t even hang out except for when I ask, and—“

At that, his head immediately snapped up in her direction, and she raised a hand to interrupt him before he could say anything.

“Fighting in a random parking lot doesn’t count! I can’t believe I have to say that. Even if you get food after, or whatever, he probably just thinks it’s a bro thing. And he isn’t gonna assume you’re into him no matter how shirtless you get around him; you do that when you fight and he works in a gym. He sees half naked dudes every day.” Kimberly crossed her arms back over her chest and leaned down, getting in his face to really make her point. “You’re not allowed to get mad he’s on a dating site when you haven’t actually made a move this whole time, weirdo.”

Instinctively, Jamie opened his mouth again, then closed it when his mind finally caught up with his body, and he realized he didn’t really have anything to say to that. He shook his head, resigned.

“Damn. You’re a genius.”

The corners of her lips quirked up in amusement as she picked her food back up. “Y’know, people usually say that to me over complex algorithms, not basic communication. I guess you’re more used to people chasing you instead of the other way ‘round, huh?”

“Don’t say that, man.” He slumped over into his own folded arms and laughed mirthlessly into the table.

She wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear it.

If he’d been around anyone else, he’d probably have gone on and on about it, recited his whole spiel on how nah, Jamie Siu just doesn’t need to hit on people, complete with all the swagger that usually came with it, but his head hurt like hell and it was Kim he was talking to.

There was no real point to even trying to play it up in front of her.

“You’re not supposed to psychoanalyze me, Kim.” His voice came out muffled by the poor acoustics of the glass table and his arms. “You’re supposed to feel bad for me and then give me sympathetic and shitty advice.”

Kimberly sighed, popped the rest of her hotdog into her mouth and wiped her hands on a napkin. “You want me to say you should message him there.”

From where he was still lying face-down on the table, Jamie offered her a finger snap and a thumbs up, then straightened up and finally reached for his own food.

She watched him consign his left hand to the pickle juice soaking through the wrapper before she spoke again.

“Why? Wouldn’t he be able to tell it was you anyway?”

Hotdog halfway to his mouth, Jamie made a non-committal, I don’t know sort of noise and reached for his phone with his clean hand. Tapped on the screen a couple of times, then passed it to her. “You tell me.”

Kimberly peered at the screen and immediately snorted. She wasn’t sure what else she’d been expecting.

TopPlyr86, 28
all in the name x. i delete faceless msgs dont waste my time

The first image in his gallery was as eye-catching as a profile picture could get. Just his bare chest in frame, cut off at the shoulders and his hips. The dark, nondescript background she could only barely recognise as his room provided a sharp contrast to the bright shade of his olive skin, illuminated by whatever warm light had been set up off screen.

It was a good photo. Shameless, but good.

Her brows rose at the next image she swiped to. This one was a back-facing mirror selfie, cropped again to omit anything that would identify him. And to avoid getting it flagged, probably, because he wasn’t wearing anything this time and the sink could only hide that much.

His hair had been swept over his neck to drape over his front instead, its actual length ambiguous with the way the shape of it was blending in to the shadows. It was the same for anything else aside from his body, reduced to vague, dark silhouettes that melted away into the background easily enough in the same high contrast lighting — “Do you color grade these? How did you get that lighting in your bathroom?” — in a way that kept everything he wanted eyes on popping in sharp definition. Warm light caressed both the sharp angles and curves of his compact frame, highlighted the defined musculature of his back, shrouded just enough of him in shadow that the mystery would tease anyone who was interested.

The next picture was even darker, but she figured that was intentional by now. It was working, too, because even she couldn’t take her eyes off what was catching the light in there. Piercings she’d rather never have known the locations of winked at her through his cracked phone screen, and she didn’t even realize she was making a face like she’d licked a lemon until she heard Jamie laugh.

“Too much?”

Wrinkling her nose, Kimberly deposited his phone back into his outstretched hand. “When did you last update that?”

He tucked it back into his pocket with a shrug, turned his attention back to his food, giving it a moment before he responded.

“I forget. Last year?”

A lone piece of shredded cabbage was sticking out of the rest of the heap atop the bun. Avoiding her gaze, he idly pinched the straggler between his fingers and put it in his mouth.

The correct answer was probably closer to a few months ago.

Sure, he’d scrolled through users and checked whatever messages he’d gotten on there when he was bored, but it’d been a while since he’d actively tried to match with anyone on the app; he hadn’t bothered to touch his profile in ages. He just didn’t want to admit that he’d stopped around the same time he’d started his fruitless pursuit of that idiot, for the same reasons he hadn’t gone home with anyone last night.

It just didn’t feel right.

(As stupid as that felt to say when the dude making him feel that way barely wanted anything to do with him besides fistfight him on the street.)

“Right…”

She dragged out the i, pursed her lips and propped her elbow up on the table again to lean against it. Jamie could practically hear her thinking, trying to piece together a fuller picture from whatever he had, or hadn’t told her. “So why are you so stuck on this again? I can’t imagine you’re starved for choice across even half of Metro City. It’s not just about sleeping with him, is it.”

“It kinda is and it isn’t, I dunno.” Jamie took another bite of his food, and properly turned the question over in his head. He hadn’t had the chance to give it genuine thought yet. “I just gotta know for real, you feel me?”

The guy had done nothing but throw him off at every turn thus far, rebuffed him in all but words where nobody else would have. Barring his own frustrations at getting rejected like that, it’d left him nothing to measure his expectations with. Jamie liked to think he was relatively good at reading body language; had to be, after the years he’d spent around his painfully, traditionally stoic parents.

So the fact that he couldn’t get a handle on anything that went on in Luke’s head was just pissing him off that much more. Even now that he knew the big guy could be into dudes, he was no closer to figuring out whether he could be into him, specifically.

…Scratch that, it was almost insulting, knowing that Luke liked men, and still hadn’t looked his way this entire time. Did the guy really just have the most esoteric taste in Metro, or did Jamie really piss him off so bad he couldn’t even appreciate him as eye candy?

Either way, it was infuriating.

There were just too many factors he hadn’t tested yet. Some of which he couldn’t, even if he wanted to, because to Luke he’d always be Jamie Siu, and all the complications that came with the name, not just some guy with a hot body.

Maybe the veil of anonymity really was what he’d been looking for; a shot at leaving a second first impression.

“I’m just curious about whether he’d actually be into me, it’s not like I’m expecting him to be all over me or anything.” Jamie pinched the wrapper so the last tiny pile of fermented cabbage wouldn’t fall out of it, then added for good measure, “I’m not gonna be mad if it turns out I’m just not his type.”

Despite what he was saying, as much as he’d told himself Luke’s opinion didn’t fucking matter, even just the implication that he could possibly not be enough for the guy twisted his stomach. The thought of it made his chest clench with that ugly sort of self-consciousness he hadn’t felt since he was a little kid, and he found himself scowling at his own kneejerk reaction, a reflex that felt far too familiar for how hard he’d tried to train himself out of it.

He huffed under his breath. There was no way it ran that deep. He was just frustrated at how long he’d been at this, with nothing to show for it. That was all.

“I just wanna see what he thinks of me when it’s not me, y’know?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kimberly’s expression shifted to something two parts chagrin and one part sympathy, and he immediately regretted voicing his thoughts unfiltered. He wondered if it’d sound more pathetic if he tried to take them back.

“What’s your plan if — or when — he recognises you?”

“Worst case scenario, he’ll probably think I did it just to piss him off and then kick my ass.”

“And if he doesn’t? What’s your endgame there, what do you want out of him?”

As much as it made him sound like a petty jackass, Jamie already knew it was a pride thing.

Nobody had ever made him try this hard. Not for as long as he could remember, and at this point his pride was demanding he see it through, consequences be damned. As if fucking Sullivan was some sort of consolation prize to soothe his ruffled feathers, like it’d prove something, the same way punching the bastard’s lights out after he knocked him on his ass mid-fight proved he wasn’t taking an L just yet.

Chewing around the last of his food, Jamie thought of that piercing blue gaze again, the way it scorched through him, all scorn and fury and cockiness, and wondered if he’d ever really get the chance to make the guy look at him in any other way. If he'd ever get to see whether Luke flushed the same shade of red that he did during a workout under, or even on top of him instead.

He wasn’t about to be picky with it at this point. If it was even a possibility, he’d jump at the opportunity in a heartbeat, just to prove Luke wasn’t as infallible to him as he’d seemed.

Privately, he’d admit a part of him wanted those eyes on him outside the bedroom, too. Focused, obsessive, like he was the only interesting thing for miles; there was something oddly addictive about Luke’s attention. He swore he could get lost in that intensity alone, and he wasn't gonna deny he’d beefed with him just to chase that look in his eye more than a couple of times by now.

Not that he was gonna tell Kim about that, though. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to have that conversation with her.

It was far easier to just shoot her a grin, wiggle his eyebrows and quip, “Now I don’t think you’d wanna hear all that.”

She rolled her eyes and made an exaggerated gagging noise. “Ugh. Be serious, J.”

Jamie laughed, licked his fingers clean of pickle juice and reached over the table to pat her on the shoulder with his clean hand. “I’m joking. You don’t need to worry about that part, I know where to draw the line when it comes to this stuff.”

“Sure…”

She was looking at him in a way that told him she was still thinking; she’d probably guessed there was more to it than he was letting on. He braced himself for her to press him further, but she let it go with a shrug, and handed him a napkin instead. “I still think just talking to him is easier than whatever you’ve got going on in your head, but you do you. God knows you won’t let me stop you. Are you gonna do it now?”

“Yessir,” he drawled, shooting her a two-fingered salute.

“Lemme see.”

Jamie crumpled the tissue and hotdog wrapper up into a messy ball and aimed a three-pointer into the nearest bin, before pulling up the message tab on his phone. Kimberly dragged her chair closer, got comfortable and peered over his shoulder as he started to type.

“C’mon. You gotta sound interested, at least.”

“I’m not done! You can’t be out here backseating my hookup messages, what the hell—”

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying maybe you should pick a better opener—“

Apparently, the universe itself had caught wind of the fact he was finally trying to do something about his stagnating life schedule, because as soon as he’d woken up that morning, Luke found himself busier than he’d been in weeks.

When he wasn’t doing live demonstrations or running drills, he was up to his ass in spreadsheets, updating about the month’s worth of documents management had suddenly put in a request to see. His lunch break hadn’t given him much of a reprieve either. One of the recruits had asked for a quick one-to-one instructional, and he hadn’t had the heart to turn them down, despite everything. He’d barely managed to step outside and grab lunch before it was back to the grind for him.

As it turned out, he’d underestimated just how much admin work he’d procrastinated on over the past few weeks. His shift technically ended at seven, but it wasn’t until nine that he actually finished crunching numbers for the registry.

So much for breaking out of the spiral of work, he supposed.

Sprawling in his office chair, absently watching the files upload on the Buckler facility’s ancient desktop, Luke shovelled cold rice into his mouth from the burrito bowl he’d ordered in an hour ago, and finally pulled up the app inbox on his phone.

Huh. He’d gotten a surprising amount of messages.

A decent amount of them were just dick pics, sure, whatever, but as he scrolled through the rest one by one, he found a handful of people who’d sent him actual messages. There were still more than he’d thought there would be, a couple of guys, a girl, even, and as trivial as that seemed some part of it was comforting to him.

It wasn’t that he thought he was unattractive, or anything like that.

But it was hard not to feel embarrassed looking at himself in the mirror nowadays, when he knew just how much he’d let himself go as of late. He hadn't dropped all the discipline, but his workouts hadn’t been as intense as they’d used to be for a while now, and he’d stopped really watching his diet when he didn’t have to, now that he wasn’t constantly putting on or dropping pounds to hit weight classes. Over the past couple of months, he’d gotten a little softer around his sides and belly, and while it wasn’t offensively so he couldn’t say he was all that happy seeing curves where he’d used to be all built muscle.

His hobbies were dorky, he was thirty-two without any employable skills outside of being military — something he hated even thinking about, stuck in a dead-end job that took up almost all his waking hours. It was stupid, but he’d been rethinking his bio throughout the day, wondering if there was a subtle way he could add more to it, just so he didn’t feel like he was lying by omission.

Disgruntled, Luke shook his head, typed in a quick, polite reply to someone, and tabbed back into the inbox. He’d already stated he was looking for something casual for a reason; he didn’t owe anyone information like this, let alone people he hardly knew.

Still, it took some effort to remind himself there was no point to overthinking things like this.

Glancing over at the file transfer — eighty percent of the way through, god, the internet in the facility was unbearable, Luke clicked into another profile, and paused.

Well. That was one way to get attention on this app, he supposed.

TopPlyr86 was a looker and the guy knew it, that was for sure. There was more exposed skin in his profile picture than in some of the actual nudes in Luke’s inbox, but he hadn’t meant that as a diss. Damn. If he looked even half as good as that guy he’d probably be out there taking pictures like that all day too.

A beat.

Luke scrolled through his pictures again. Re-read his bio.

Squinted, and swiped back to his own messages just to double-check; yep, there it was, the same guy in his inbox.

…This guy had messaged him first?

Luke actually couldn’t even remember what he’d said; he’d been skimming the majority of the messages, distracted by his cold burrito bowl and that sudden depressive spiral about his current path in life. He sort of felt bad about how out of it he’d been the whole time, now. Maybe he’d go back and reread some other texts after he finished up here.

What did a guy like him even have to say as an opener? Luke would've been genuinely surprised if he'd ever had to text anyone first. He swiped over into the chat log, not even sure what he was expecting.

[11:40]: hey whats up
[11:43]: you into board games? which ones

It took him a moment to even remember he’d put that dumb picture of them at the board game café in his gallery, and he laughed as soon as he did. Out of all the things to open with. He couldn’t say he’d anticipated anything like that, not from a dude whose whole gallery was two degrees of separation away from a community guideline violation.

It was surprisingly cute; a fairly engaging way to get him to start talking aside from just saying hello. Luke put down the plastic spoon, wiped his hand on his pants and typed in a genuine response.

[21:24]: Hi! Sorry I was busy
[21:24]: Actually I’m more of a pc gamer but my friend wanted to show me some that day
[21:25]: Sorry to disappoint I’m pretty bad at them ;-P

As soon as he’d hit send, the indicator by the guy’s profile flashed green. Had he just been sitting there on his phone? Then again it was nine, most people were probably at home lounging around and killing time by now. Dude probably got dozens of messages to boot, he was probably used to pulling up the app just to clear his notifications.

Luke's eyes shifted over to the desktop again. Eighty-five percent. Back to his phone.

[21:26]: oh good i dont have to pretend im smart about these games either lol
[21:27]: u a big rgb kinda guy then? u seem like the type

[21:28]: K listen, it doesn’t take away from the functionality of the setup and it looks sick
[21:28]: I have a console too! Im not like a pc master race guy I promise

[21:29]: idk wht that means
[21:29]: the last console i touched was an nes and my pc is like 4 years old. i use it for emails

Humming, Luke spooned the last of his rice into his mouth. So the guy wasn’t interested in the gaming part of his profile.

[21:31]: Oh icic... No offense, but why did you text me then?
[21:33]: Not that I want you to stop, but I’m just curious what got you here if it’s not the gaming thing. We don’t seem to have a lot in common! Haha

[21:33]: wrong
[21:34]: u said u were looking for fun yea
[21:34]: i know how to have fun. if ur down
[21:34]: wanted to get to know u first yk

Oh. Okay. That made sense.

…Did it?

Surely there were other, more attractive people this guy could have on speed dial, looking the way he did. Luke’s fingers moved faster than his brain, typing out a message before he could start overthinking it.

[21:35]: Really? You’re into me?

The lightspeed response he got in return was enough to silence the voice in the back of his head that’d been telling him he was in over his head texting this guy.

[21:35]: fym really??? no shit bro, why else would i msg you. gnna ask me if i eat food and breathe 2?

He exhaled a quiet breath of relief, one he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

[21:36]: Haha okay point taken. I just wanted to make sure
[21:37]: You look like a model
[21:38]: So idk why you were in my inbox I thought you might have the wrong guy

[21:38]: nah
[21:39]: i know what i like

Simple as that statement was, it hit with the full force of artillery fire coming from someone who looked like he belonged on the front cover of the sort of magazines Luke used to hide under his bed. He felt three times lighter, the vice grip of self-doubt that had threatened to strangle him silent loosening with the dizzying rush of gratification at being wanted.

Damn. Slow down, dude, he thought. Cautionary instinct was doing its best to kick in, and yet he couldn’t stop the tips of his ears from turning pink, couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when he checked his phone and saw the other guy was still talking.

[21:42]: but wbu
[21:43]: didnt say ur type in ur bio or wtv

Maybe it was the boldness that came with knowing he’d genuinely captured someone’s attention, or because of how bantering with this guy he’d never met had suddenly started to feel strangely familiar, but Luke replied with a natural ease he hadn’t thought he’d be able to, conversing with someone like this.

[21:43]: Has anyone who’s seen you ever said you weren’t their type?

[21:44]: havent seen me yet have u

[21:45]: Think I’ve seen enough to know you are though
[21:45]: I wasn’t lying when I said you look like a model. Your body is amazing
[21:46]: but I’d love to see more if you’d let me

At that, the green icon by his name flickered off, and Luke rested his chin in his hand, leaned into his arm with a half smile.

…Okay, maybe that had been a bit much. He’d figured a guy like him would be used to texts way more provocative than his, but that probably didn’t mean he wanted to be hit on like that. Luke was in the middle of mentally drafting an oops, sorry, my bad message, when the offline indicator flashed green again, and he grinned with an almost giddy excitement.

So he hadn’t gotten fed up with him after all.

[21:50]: getting ahead of yourself but im not gonna say no
[21:50]: talk to u tmr tho. need to sleep im fcking tired

[21:51]: Haha, okay. Whatever pace you’re comfortable with.
[21:51]: You go to bed this early?

[21:52]: not rly i just have sleep debt
[21:53]: up way too long last night doing stupid sht
[21:53]: gn ill msg u tmr

[21:54]: I hope you feel better. Good night!

It didn’t even matter that the file transfer had finished about twenty minutes ago and he’d been sitting in his office chair, doing nothing but staring at his phone. There was a stupid smile on his face he just couldn’t get rid of, his chest pleasantly warm like he was a teenager with a crush, and not a grown-ass man thinking about a guy he hardly knew. In his defense, nobody had flat out told him they were interested in him like this for some time now; the dopamine rush he was feeling now would've been palpable even without the fact that the guy was also one of the most attractive men he’d ever seen in his life.

Even if it was just a hookup, the thought he’d even have a chance with anyone on that app felt surreal to him, let alone someone like this.

Maybe this would turn out to be worth it after all, because there was a chance he’d get to finally work off some of that frustration that’d been brewing in him for months now. If this went as well as it seemed it would, maybe Luke would finally be able to get the thought of Jamie fucking Siu and his loud ass fits and perfect body out of his head, and god if that wouldn’t come a moment too soon, because he wasn’t sure how much more of his effortless grandstanding he could take.

Luke tucked his phone away into his pocket and moved to power off the office desktop, tied off the plastic garbage bag with his takeout container in it and headed out of the office, whistling a tune as he went. The day had been terrible otherwise, all things considered, but chatting with the guy had more than made up for it. So much so that he didn’t even care that he was leaving work almost three hours late without paid overtime.

Yeah. It had been a good day.

He wasn’t going to let anything ruin it for him. Not his terrible work schedule, or the ever-present, phantom presence of Jamie Siu in his head.

Lowering his phone, Jamie slowly brought both hands up to his face, one and then the other. He didn’t even need to look in a mirror to know how red his cheeks were, not when he could feel the heat practically radiating off of his skin. His heartbeat was deafening, quickened, hammering in his chest like he’d just run a marathon.

Shit. Maybe he really should’ve let Kim talk him out of it this morning. There was no way this was shaping up to be anything besides a mistake.

How the hell was he going to go through with this?

He didn’t want to look at the chat again, not right now, because rereading it would mean he’d have to face the fact that Luke was interested in him. And then he’d have to really consider how just the idea of that was making his chest feel so tight he could hardly breathe.

Because for someone who by conventional standards had almost zero game at all, Luke Sullivan had made him blush harder than anyone who’d ever actually tried to flirt with him, online or otherwise. Jamie was sure he hadn't even been trying.

And it was about that moment, that he realized he was absolutely fucked.