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He was in his fifth year at Palmetto, his final semester of college, and he should have been focused on his professional future. Every piece of the puzzle was falling into place: the Foxes were having an incredible season, their chances of winning the championship were the highest they’d been in years, and his hand was responding better than ever.
Even his relationship with Andrew had evolved into something that could almost be called a friendship, though neither of them would ever use that word to describe it.
And Neil… Neil Josten, who had arrived as nothing, had become someone fundamental to the team. To Kevin. His perfect project and living proof that Kevin Day could guide others toward greatness.
Except he couldn’t stop looking at Neil Josten.
At first, he dismissed it as professional admiration. Neil had become an exceptional striker, his understanding of the game rivaled Kevin’s own. It was natural to watch him, to analyze his movements, to anticipate his plays. They were line partners, spending hours together on the court.
But practice ended, and Kevin kept noticing things that had nothing to do with Exy.
The way Neil ran a hand through his hair when he was frustrated, leaving strands sticking out in every direction. The scar on his cheek creasing slightly when he smiled—those rare smiles he reserved for Andrew or moments of victory. The sound of his laugh when Nicky said something stupid. The curve of his neck.
Kevin caught himself staring during team meetings, during meals, on bus rides. And every time he did, he snapped his gaze away, his heart beating far too fast.
February arrived with biting cold and a winning streak that placed the Foxes second in the rankings. He should have been euphoric. Instead, it felt like something was lodged in his chest, something that grew and pressed against his ribs every time Neil was nearby.
Focus, he ordered himself during practice—but then Neil ran alongside him, all fluid, precise movement, and Kevin lost his train of thought.
One night, after an intense practice, they ended up alone in the locker room. Everyone else had already left—Andrew was waiting outside for Neil, in the Maserati, as always. Neil stood at his locker, changing—Kevin was grateful that Neil trusted him enough to undress in front of him—and he froze at the sight of the scarred skin on Neil’s back. He had seen those scars hundreds of times, knew the story behind each one.
But now it was different.
This time, he wanted to touch them. Wanted to trace the lines with his fingers. Wanted—
“Kevin?”
He startled. Neil was looking at him over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. His shirt was halfway on.
“What?” Kevin hoped his voice sounded normal, but it came out tight and too high.
“I asked if you’d seen my water bottle.”
“I didn’t.”
Neil studied him for a moment. His eyes were beautiful—Kevin felt like he could drown in them and wouldn’t mind dying. Neil shrugged and finished getting dressed.
“Whatever. Andrew’s waiting for us.”
“Yeah…” Kevin swallowed. “Sure.”
When Neil left, Kevin remained standing in the empty locker room, his hands trembling.
No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
He tried to ignore it.
He threw himself into training with renewed ferocity, pushing the team harder, demanding more of himself. If he stayed busy enough, exhausted enough, maybe he could stop feeling.
It didn’t work.
Worse, he started dreaming.
Dreams that woke him drenched in sweat, his heart racing, a terrible certainty twisting in his gut. Dreams where Neil looked at him differently. Dreams where Neil’s hands were on his skin. Dreams filled with a desire so intense it hurt physically.
He woke up hating himself.
Because Neil wasn’t just anyone. He was Neil Josten—his perfect partner on the court, Andrew Minyard’s boyfriend, demisexual, untouchable, impossible.
Everything intensified over the following weeks. Kevin began noticing things he’d never paid attention to before: the way Neil bit his lower lip when he concentrated, the timbre of his voice when he snapped at reporters, the way his hands moved when he talked about Exy with passion.
He caught himself making excuses to stay after practice, to review plays one more time with Neil. He found himself irritated when Andrew monopolized Neil’s time—which was ridiculous, because they were a couple, of course they did.
And Kevin… Kevin had never thought about men like this. He’d had relationships with women—brief, mostly unsatisfying, but normal. He’d had Thea. He’d never questioned his orientation. Never had a reason to.
Until now.
The word settled into his mind like poison: homosexual.
Was he gay? Bisexual? What did that even mean? How had he reached twenty-three without knowing? But… maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was just Neil. Something specific about Neil that attracted him—an anomaly, a mistake made by an exhausted, overstressed brain.
Except the more he tried to convince himself of that, the less he believed it.
The breaking point came in March.
After an incredible away game—a victory against a mid-ranking team—everyone was in good spirits on the bus ride back. Even Andrew looked slightly less homicidal than usual. Neil sat across the aisle from Kevin, headphones on, staring out the window with a distant expression.
Kevin watched him.
The light from the window illuminated Neil’s profile, softening the harsh lines of his face. He looked… beautiful. The word appeared in Kevin’s mind before he could stop it, followed by a flood of others: want, need, desire.
Neil turned at that moment, catching Kevin’s stare.
For a second, neither of them moved. Something passed between them—Kevin didn’t know what, but he felt it like electricity in the air. Neil’s eyes narrowed, confused, and Kevin looked away so fast he probably looked guilty.
His heart pounded. His hands shook. He had to—he needed to—
He didn’t know what he needed.
Back in Palmetto, after the bus emptied out, Kevin lingered outside Fox Tower, unable to go in. The cool air bit at his skin, but it felt good.
“Are you planning on standing out here freezing all night?”
Kevin turned. Neil stood a few meters away, hands in his pockets. Andrew wasn’t with him, which was unusual.
“Where’s Andrew?” Kevin asked, because he didn’t know what else to say.
“Upstairs. I told him I needed some air.” Neil stepped closer. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird lately.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Kevin almost laughed. Neil calling him a liar was ironic.
“Seriously, Kevin.” Neil was closer now, close enough that Kevin could see the lighter flecks in his blue eyes. “What’s going on?”
And maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was simply because Kevin had never been good at keeping secrets that mattered. Whatever the reason, something inside him broke.
“You,” he said, his voice contained to a whisper. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”
Neil blinked.
“What?”
And then Kevin kissed him.
It was impulsive, desperate, thoughtless. He closed the distance between them, cupped Neil’s face in his hands, and pressed his lips to Neil’s. For one glorious second—maybe less—Neil stayed still. His lips were warm and soft, everything Kevin hadn’t known he wanted until he did. He tasted the coffee Neil always drank and thought, yes, this, this is what I need.
Then Neil shoved him away, creating space between them. Kevin stumbled back as reality crashed over him like ice water.
“What the fuck, Kevin?” Neil’s voice was sharp, incredulous. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at Kevin like he’d lost his mind.
Maybe he had.
“I—” Kevin couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry… God, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“What was that?”
“I don’t know.” And it was true. He didn’t know what he was doing, what he’d expected to happen. He only knew he’d crossed a line he couldn’t uncross, ruined something he couldn’t fix.
He had kissed Neil Josten.
He had kissed Neil Josten, who had a boyfriend.
He had kissed Neil Josten, whose boyfriend was Andrew Minyard.
“I…” Kevin still couldn’t breathe. The space felt too small, the walls closing in. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“Kevin—”
“I don’t know why I did that,” he repeated, backing up until his spine hit the wall. His left hand began to tremble uncontrollably. “I didn’t—”
“Kevin, breathe.”
But Kevin couldn’t breathe, because if this was real, if he’d really just done this, then it meant that he was—that he felt—that he wanted—
Except he had just kissed Neil.
Except he’d been thinking about Neil for weeks.
Except he’d realized he was jealous of Andrew, because Andrew was Neil’s boyfriend.
“God…” Kevin whispered. “God, I—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… You and Andrew… I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Then… why?”
“I don’t know!” Kevin’s voice rose, desperate. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling hard. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t understand what’s wrong with me, I don’t understand why I can’t stop—” He cut himself off, swallowing the rest.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking about you.” The words came out like a torn confession. “Looking at you… wanting you…” His voice broke.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Neil looked lost, which was rare for him. He always seemed so sure, so controlled, always knowing exactly what to say to cut straight to the bone. But now he just stood there, staring at Kevin like a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
“Kevin…” he said finally, gently. “I don’t… I don’t feel that way about you.”
“I know,” Kevin replied miserably. “I know… I just—needed—” What? What had he needed? Confirmation that this was as one-sided as he thought? Humiliation? Some kind of closure?
“I love Andrew,” Neil said, and there was something kind in his voice that made it hurt more. “Only him.”
“I know,” Kevin repeated. It felt like the only thing he could say anymore.
“And you? Are you…?” Neil gestured vaguely.
“Gay?” Kevin let out a bitter laugh. “Apparently. Or bisexual. Or whatever. Four months ago I would’ve said no, but now…” He shrugged.
Neil frowned.
“Four months?”
“More or less since I realized I was looking at you differently.”
“And you decided to… kiss me?”
Said like that, it sounded stupid.
“No. That wasn’t a decision. It was a stupid impulse.”
“Very stupid,” Neil agreed, without cruelty. “I never wanted to know what it was like to kiss a brother.”
Kevin sank down onto the front steps, burying his face in his hands.
“Andrew’s going to kill me.”
“Probably,” Neil said, sitting beside him, leaving a cautious distance between them. “But to be fair, he probably already knew.”
“You think?”
They sat in silence for a moment. The cold was becoming uncomfortable, but Kevin didn’t have the energy to move. He felt exhausted, and it had nothing to do with the game.
“Look…” Neil said. “I’m not going to pretend I understand exactly what you’re going through. I—my situation with Andrew was complicated in different ways, but I know what it’s like to realize something about yourself you weren’t expecting.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Not exactly.” Neil shrugged. “I’m just saying I get it… a little.” He paused. “I’m actually terrible at comforting people. Once I told Andrew the percentage of planes that crash and why, and I don’t think it helped his fear of heights.”
Kevin watched him scratch at his forehead.
He glanced at Neil.
“Are you going to tell Andrew?”
“He already knows, remember?”
“About the kiss.”
Neil considered it.
“Should I?”
“Probably,” Kevin sighed. “I don’t want you keeping secrets because of me.”
“Okay…” Neil stood. “Then I’ll tell him. And then you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”
“Will he kill me?”
“Honestly?” Neil looked at him. “I don’t think Andrew will hurt you, out of respect for your ‘friendship’ or whatever the two of you call it.” He paused, uncertain. “But he knows you, Kevin. He knows you won’t do anything else… and he knows I won’t…” He left the sentence unfinished, but the message was clear.
Kevin nodded. He didn’t trust his voice.
“You’ll have to get over it,” Neil added. “This. Whatever you feel. Because I’m not going to return it, and I don’t know how much Andrew would tolerate.”
“I know.”
“And also… if you don’t get over it, things might get weird between us, and I meant it, Kevin.” He hesitated, as if weighing whether his next words would be cruel. “You’re like the older brother I never had. I care about you. You’re important to me. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know,” Kevin said again, feeling like a broken record.
Neil lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but in the end he just shook his head.
“Good night, Kevin.”
“Good night.”
Kevin watched him go, disappear into the building, leaving him alone with the cold and the weight of what had just happened.
He returned to the suite around one in the morning. He was nearly frozen and had already resigned himself to sleeping on the uncomfortable couch, though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep after everything that had happened.
When he opened the door, he realized someone was waiting for him on the couch. It wasn’t a surprise that it was Andrew Minyard.
“Look who finally decided to come back to the nest.” Andrew’s voice was cheerful, his expression neutral. “Neil told me,” he said. “But even if he hadn’t, I saw everything from the roof. Extra points for asking him to tell me.”
Kevin sat down slowly.
“I’ll move out tomorrow. I can talk to my dad about changing the room arrangements, or ask Nicky to switch with me.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because—” Kevin stopped. Because I kissed your boyfriend. Because I’m attracted to your boyfriend. Because I’m a threat to your relationship. All reasons Andrew should want him gone. “I thought you’d want me to.”
“I don’t care where you sleep,” Andrew said. “But if you’re doing it out of guilt, or because you think what you’re feeling is a problem you can solve with distance, you’re being even more stupid than usual, Day.”
Kevin blinked.
“I… what?”
Andrew patted the couch, inviting him to sit beside him.
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at him? The excuses you find to touch his shoulder when you review plays. The way you tense up when he’s near. The way you get annoyed when someone—or something—pulls his attention away.”
Humiliation spread over Kevin’s skin like fire.
“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because what you feel isn’t my business. It only becomes my business when you act on it in ways that affect Neil.” Andrew tilted his head. “Like ignoring him. Or kissing him without his consent.”
“I won’t do it again.”
“I know. Because if you do, I’ll have to break your other hand, and that would be a waste.”
It wasn’t a threat. It was a warning, and Kevin knew it.
“I don’t understand,” Kevin admitted. “You should want to kill me.”
“For feeling something? Don’t be ridiculous.” Andrew lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Kissing him was a stupid action, though.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” Andrew asked. “Because you seem to be having a full existential crisis over being attracted to men, which is pathetic, considering no one with half a brain actually cares about that.”
Kevin let out a short, humorless laugh. Andrew closed his eyes and stood, ending the conversation.
“Go to sleep, Day.”
Kevin sat on the couch as Andrew walked away. They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds.
“Thank you,” Kevin murmured.
“Don’t thank me,” Andrew said, after a pause. “Figure it out.”
The days that followed were uncomfortable.
Not in any obvious way—the Foxes were too professional for that—and Kevin was too essential to the team to be avoided. But there was a new tension, especially when Kevin, Neil, and Andrew were in the same room.
Neil acted normal, which Kevin appreciated. There was no pity in his eyes, no awkwardness between them. They tried to keep things as they had been. Kevin focused on Exy, but at night, when he was alone, he allowed himself to think.
To think about what he’d felt when he kissed Neil—that moment of clarity before everything went to hell. To think about what it meant, that after twenty-three years of assuming he knew who he was, something fundamental had shifted.
It wasn’t just Neil.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized Neil had been the catalyst, not the cause. There had been signs before—small, easy to ignore. Lingering looks. Thoughts he pushed away before they fully formed.
Maybe he’d always been bisexual and simply never stopped long enough to notice.
It was terrifying. But it was also liberating.
If he could survive this—realizing this truth about himself, facing rejection, and moving forward—then he could survive anything.
One afternoon in April, after a brutal practice, Neil approached him while they were taking off their gear.
“Hey,” Neil said casually, though his eyes were serious. “You okay?”
Kevin looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time in weeks without attraction clouding his vision. He saw his teammate. Something like a friend.
“I’m getting there,” he answered honestly.
Neil nodded.
“Good.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re pathetic or anything… for what happened.”
“No?”
“No. I think you were brave. Very stupid, too.”
Kevin couldn’t help but smile a little.
It wasn’t easy.
The feelings didn’t disappear overnight. There were days when Kevin still caught himself looking at Neil too long, still felt that pull of desire he knew he couldn’t follow.
But it got easier with time. The sharp pain of rejection dulled into something more manageable. And in the process, Kevin began to understand himself better.
He started noticing things he’d overlooked before. The way his gaze sometimes lingered on other men. He was bisexual—probably always had been. And that… was okay.
It didn’t solve all his problems. It didn’t make his feelings for Neil any less complicated. But it felt like a beginning.
The Foxes were playing better than ever—a cohesive team with a real shot at winning everything.
Kevin was in the suite, reviewing opposing teams for what felt like the hundredth time that week, when the door opened and Andrew walked in. Neil was still on the court, training the rookies.
“Neil worries about you,” Andrew said. “In that irritating way he worries about everyone. And I care about what Neil cares about. Transitively, I suppose that means I care—very vaguely—about your well-being.”
It was probably the closest thing to friendship Andrew Minyard would ever express.
“Thank you,” Kevin said quietly.
“Don’t thank me. It’s disgusting.”
The Foxes won the championship that year.
Kevin Day played the Exy of his life, with Neil at his side—the best student he could have asked for.
When the final buzzer sounded, when his teammates surrounded him in celebration, he allowed himself to feel proud.
As Neil and Andrew shared a private moment at the edge of the celebration, Kevin watched them—no longer with longing—and felt at peace.
He would be okay.
Eventually, he would find something of his own.