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“I’m telling you lot,” Jamie announced across the changing room, pulling his training top over his head, “they are fucking.”
“Ah, not this again,” Theo groaned, tying his trainers. “I told you, we should stop putting him at pivot in training. One too many shots to the head and now look at him.”
“Laugh all you want, I know what I’ve seen.”
He wasn’t going to back down. He’d been onto those two for a while now, and he was getting sick of keeping his suspicions to himself. The entire school seemed convinced that their coach and history teacher were some kind of sworn enemies with some ancient, unresolved beef, but Jamie wasn’t buying it. There was something else going on between those two. He just couldn't shake the feeling.
“You haven’t seen anything,” Reece chimed in. “Besides, is Olise even gay? Do we actually know anything about that bloke?” he asked.
“Yeah, he doesn’t really look like it,” Theo said thoughtfully.
Milo stared at him. “Hang on, what’s a bloke who’s into men supposed to look like?”
Theo shrugged. “Dunno. Just saying...”
“Don’t have to be gay to be fucking a man either, do you?” Jamie added.
“I didn’t mean it like that, just—what do we know about the guy? He doesn’t exactly share anything about himself,” Reece shrugged. “He might not even like men.” He paused. “Or people.”
“That’s true,” Callum agreed. “I asked him once if he had a pet.”
Everyone looked at him. “And?” Milo broke the silence.
“He stared at me for, like, ten seconds and went, ‘Simba.’ Then just walked away.”
“Might not like men,” Jamie repeated, completely ignoring whatever point Callum had been trying to make. “I’m here with a full-on, in-depth investigation and you’re just gonna dismiss me on a might? He might not be gay? Bloke might be an international spy too. Fuck off with your might.”
“Okay, fine,” Reece conceded. “Say he is gay, or into men, or whatever. Doesn’t mean they’re fucking.”
Jamie was shucking off his trousers. “Oh, so you do want proof, yeah?”
“One might say that’s crucial to an in-depth investigation,” Callum joked.
“Okay, how’s this?” Jamie shimmied into his basketball shorts. “I’ll bet you ten quid Olise is at the game tonight.”
“So?” Theo pulled his jersey over his head. “He comes to every game.”
“Exactly.”
The whole team stopped what they were doing and stared at Jamie, waiting for him to elaborate on why the fuck he thought that counted as solid evidence.
“You lot said it yourselves, we know jack shit about Olise, except for one undeniable fact. The man hates basketball. He loves making comments about how the school chose this over having a proper football team. And yet—” Jamie gestured vaguely in the direction of the court. “Every game, without fail, he’s sitting in those stands, watching.”
Jamie waited, but he was met with nothing but blank stares.
“And?” Milo prompted. Again.
“Why would he be sitting there at every game if he hates the sport?” Jamie said.
“To watch your sorry arse brick every shot?” Dev jabbed, joining the conversation for the first time. Just to add that, apparently.
The team laughed but Jamie ignored them. “To support his secret lover. AKA Coach.”
And they went silent again.
“I think that is one hell of a reach, J.” Finally Callum spoke for the group.
“To be honest, I think your fixation on the sex lives of our teachers is a little concerning,” Milo added.
“That’s true,” Kenny turned to him, “is this all just a cover-up 'cause you secretly wanna fuck one of them?”
“Eh, fuck off. That’s not it.”
“Which one is it? This is a safe space, you can tell us,” continued Theo.
“My money’s on Olise, he’s too much like Coach to not be projecting,” Reece teased.
There was an uproar of voices throughout the room as the team all chimed in with their opinion on Jamie’s fixation.
“Settle down boys, alright, settle down. This isn’t about me. I just thought I’d be kind and let you all know before it all comes out and youse are left looking stupid for not seeing it earlier.”
“We’ll leave the looking stupid to you, eh J,” Reece teased.
“Whatever, you lot don’t see it but I do. I wouldn’t expect a bunch of virgins like yourselves to get it, but as the only man of the group I know it when I see it- sexual tension.”
“For the last time Brown, sex doesn’t count when it’s by yourself.”
“What the hell kind of sexual tension are you seeing in the school hallways?”
“It’s a fantasy. A weird little fairyland you’ve made up to compensate for your lack of action, that is.”
“Is no one going to bring up the one big, glaring reason why Brown is clearly full of shit?” Dev leaned against his locker, showing an actual interest in the speculation for the first time. “Coach is married.”
Jamie threw his hands out like that was obvious. “That’s why it’s called an affair. It’s a scandal. That’s why they’re keeping it a secret.”
“Vaguely reasonable excuse, if it wasn’t for the fact that Musiala is annoyingly obsessed with his husband.”
“Exactly. Can’t ask him about his weekend without him going on about his wonderful husband,” Milo interjected.
“Just had a quiet one with my husband,” Callum mimicked.
“Poor Mikey got sick, so I made him some soup,” Theo added.
“Went to the beach with my husband and our dog.”
“Mikey this, Mikey that,” Reece said.
Mikey. Mikey. Mikey. Mikey.
The whole team rattled off the name over and over, sounding like a deranged flock of chickens.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Jamie threw his hands up. “I concede. You lot don't see it, and that’s fine. But I know my truth.” Dramatically, he placed a hand over his heart. “And I’ll say it again, and stand by it.”
He paused, and the room fell silent in some faux sense of anticipation.
“They’re fuckin’.”
Jamie waited for the chorus of objections, for the team to call him a dumbass and tell him he was full of shit, but it never came. Instead, everyone’s eyes shifted towards Coach Musiala as he strolled into the changing room, hands casually shoved into the pockets of his jacket.
“Who’s fuckin’?” he asked Jamie.
Jamie wasn’t convinced he’d been caught... he swallowed thickly and thought quickly.
“Ah, me and Milo’s mum, sir.” The room erupted in laughter and with that Jamie gained some confidence, he grinned and flashed the coach three fingers, “had ‘er three times last night.” Something that felt suspiciously like a pair of socks hit him in the back of the head.
Musiala’s brows pulled together like he didn't quite believe that was what they’d been talking about but eventually, his scepticism broke and he shook his head in mild amusement.
“Lucky woman,” he remarked, walking past Jamie and ruffling his curls.
“Alright,” Coach addressed the team, “we ready to kick some arse?”
The room erupted with cheers.
“Then let's go!”
The team clambered over one another, filtering out of the changing room in excitement.
Out on the court, sitting on the bench five minutes before tip-off, Jamie couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder towards the stands. Sure enough, he spotted Mr Olise amongst the crowd, bundled up in a thick wool jumper and blue scarf, ready to watch yet another game he supposedly hated.
Jamie elbowed Reece, who was sitting beside him.
“Ow. What?” the other boy asked, annoyed.
Jamie jerked his head in Olise’s direction. Reece’s eyes drifted over with mild interest, then back again.
“So?”
“Told ya he’d be here.” Jamie felt vindicated.
“He’s here for every game.” Reece was still unconvinced, already turning his attention back to the court.
Jamie redirected his attention to the stands.
“Hey! Mr Olise!” he shouted.
Olise barely shifted his attention towards his student.
“Good to see ya!” Jamie called, waving wildly at him.
“Good luck out there, Brown,” Olise said simply.
Jamie responded with a wide grin and a thumbs-up.
On his other side, Theo leaned across Jamie to whisper to Reece, “Yeah, it’s definitely Olise he wants to crack.”
Reece cackled and Jamie elbowed Theo.
“Fuck off.”
Jamie’s eyes drifted over to Coach, standing at the edge of the court. But it wasn’t his team he was looking at, instead, his hands rested in his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder, eyes finding Mr Olise almost immediately amongst the crowd. Jamie watched the two of them hold each other’s gaze for just a second too long.
Yeah, he knew he was right.
…
Jamie was caught off guard walking into Mr Olise’s second-period history class. Usually, the class was as predictable and routine as every other school day but not today.
Today, as usual, Mr Olise sat at his desk at the front of the classroom sorting through papers and skimming a textbook for the day's lesson, The unusual part?
Leaning back against the desk beside him was none other than Coach Musiala.
Musiala’s arms were crossed and he leaned down to talk to Olise, who despite not looking at him and mostly seeming like he was ignoring him, responded in a low, uninterested voice that Jamie couldn’t quite make out.
Jamie stopped dead in the doorway at the sight in front of him, having absolutely no idea why the scene was unfolding. The rest of the class, not a second behind him, quickly started piling up at his back.
“Keep it moving, J,” Callum shoved past him to get inside the classroom.
Musiala looked up, tearing his locked gaze from the other man sitting at his desk. “Morning, boys,” he greeted everyone as they started filtering into the classroom.
A chorus of responses followed, mainly from the basketball boys, who while confused about why he was there, were more than excited to have their favourite teacher in the room.
Jamie still hadn’t moved, too busy processing, and Olise didn't look up.
That is until Musiala kicked out a foot from where he had it casually crossed over his other ankle and poked it into Olise’s, at which he looked up at the students filing into his classroom.
“Good morning, everyone,” he addressed the class, as Musiala clearly prompted him to do, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
The man looked back down at his book and Jamie finally remembered how to move and slowly made his way towards his seat.
That was weird, he thought. Did no one else notice that? That was weird, right?
It was not only the silent communication. The simple tap of a foot seemed so normal, and Olise had known what it meant instantly, no further communication was needed.
But it was also the fact that, knowing what Musiala wanted him to do, he’d just done it, no question, no eye roll, no complaint.
Jamie sat at his desk and couldn’t take his eyes off the pair. Musiala leaned down towards Olise, a small tug at the corner of his mouth. He got far too close for two men who supposedly weren't close, in Jamie's opinion, and murmured something that Jamie couldn’t make out.
At whatever was said, Olise looked up, not at Musiala, towards the class but not anyone, almost like his eyes were glossed over, his lips pressed tightly together and Jamie could tell he was doing his best to show no reaction to whatever was spoken to him but that in itself was a reaction, and one that Musiala seemed particularly pleased and happy about as he pulled away with a wide grin on his face. The coach pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, before pushing himself off the desk and rounding it to face the class.
Jamie’s head whipped around to his classmates, desperately hoping at least one of them had seen that.
Each was as oblivious as the next. No wonder no one believed him, no one was paying any fucking attention.
Olise seemed to snap out of whatever trance Musiala’s words had put him in. He cleared his throat, pushed himself out of his chair and pulled the classroom door shut before making his way to the front.
“As you all may have noticed, we have a guest with us today,” he began, addressing the class, “Mr Musiala is-”
“Coach.” The voice came from behind, cutting him off.
Musiala was perched on the desk, sitting there like he belonged, arms on either side propping him up, legs swinging casually back and forth.
Olise’s face screwed up and he turned towards the interruption. “What?”
Coach Musiala tilted his head to the side with a small shrug, “Coach Musiala. Not Mister,” he corrected, again.
There was a pause, and the whole class sat in tense silence as the teachers stared each other down.
“You see,” Musiala continued when all he was met with was silence, “I coach the basketball team, so they refer to me as Coach. Coach Musiala.”
Mr Olise still didn’t say anything, just pushed his lips together like he was trying very hard to stop himself from saying something.
From where he was sitting, Jamie could see the twinkle in Musiala’s eye, like he was enjoying this. He leaned forward slightly, the side of his mouth turned up in a smirk, and as if the problem was simply that Olise hadn’t heard him the first two times, he repeated himself once more for good measure.
“Coach.”
Olise’s eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted and Jamie watched him release a slow steadying breath. After a second of composing himself, he looked back to the class.
“Coach Musiala,” he said pointedly, and behind him Musiala dropped his head to hide a smile, “is joining us today for some in-classroom teaching training. Don’t let him bother you.”
The class broke into quiet sniggers at the dig, tension defusing after the moment before.
The thing was, Jamie knew how the room read that moment, how the whole school read similar ones. A fight, two men who were too different and just rubbed each other the wrong way, getting on each other’s nerves. To them, it just solidified what everyone believed to be true, what they were all told. Coach Musiala and Mr Olise hated each other. But Jamie saw the truth, he knew he was right, that was not fighting, they were flirting.
Jumping down from the desk Musiala moved to stand beside Olise.
“Yeah, they wanted me to see how to bore a group of teenagers to death with history facts, so I know what not to do.”
The class erupted in laughter. It wasn’t that any of them actually thought there was any truth to it, they all loved Mr Olise. As much as most of them loved Coach to be fair, even when he was closed-off and reserved, he was fun and actually made things interesting. Everyone looked up to him and everyone knew he looked out for all the kids. But, Coach made a joke, and everyone laughed, that was just the power Musiala had over people.
Unimpressed, Olise turned to his side to glare at Musiala, he got a wide toothy grin in return.
The class basically unfolded like that. Olise taught, Musiala chimed in with something completely unhelpful, looks were exchanged, remarks were made and they went around and around and around.
And Jamie felt like he was going fucking insane, because it was like no one else saw what he saw.
When Musiala made some remark, clearly designed to get a reaction out of Olise, it wasn’t because he wanted to piss off the history teacher. No, it was more like a schoolboy tugging on the pigtails of the girl he fancied just to get her attention. And every time Olise glared, or shot back, it wasn’t out of genuine annoyance. No, because with each stern look, there was a small tug of his lips where he was trying to fight back a smile, charmed by the stupid boy throwing a ball at him in the playground.
They. Were. Fucking.
He fucking knew it.
“You guys saw that shit, right?” Jamie chased after the boys as they filtered out of the classroom.
“Our history lesson?” Theo asked. “Yeah, I was awake for a decent portion of it.”
“No, not that. Them,” Jamie stressed. “Surely you saw that shit.”
“Yeah, my favourite part was when they mounted each other over the desk,” Dev clapped him on the shoulder as they walked, “you’re delusional, J, just let it go.”
Jamie sighed, turned to Reece with a defeated tone. “Come on, Reece, you’re a smart guy… surely…”
“Sorry, Jamie. All I saw was two co-workers being forced to work together when they would rather not,” he shrugged, and for a moment it almost looked like Reece wanted to believe him, “and Coach definitely enjoys pissing the poor bloke off, but I think that’s just Coach being Coach.”
Jamie slowed to a stop as the others continued down the corridor, leaving him behind in defeat. He didn’t even know why he cared so much, he knew he shouldn’t. But it was hard when he knew the truth, it was staring them all directly in the face, and somehow no one else could see it for what it was.
…
“What do you reckon they’re talking about?” Jamie asked the group, as they sat around during break.
Everyone not-so-subtly turned to follow Jamie’s line of sight. To no one’s surprise, it was trained on Mr Olise and Coach Musiala.
The pair were sitting on a bench not far from the group, idling and chatting as they supervised the students’ break. They looked so comfortable. That was the only way Jamie could explain it, and it was doing his head in. Musiala was slouched back in his seat, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, one ankle resting over his opposite knee. Olise’s body was angled slightly towards the other man, one arm stretched along the back of the bench, almost reaching behind Musiala.
It looked natural. Intimate, even. They were just sitting there talking.
“Probably deciding who’s bringing the lube tonight,” Milo joked, tossing the basketball in his hand over to Callum.
“Doubtful,” Theo chimed in. “More like planning their escape to Mexico together. Poor Mikey Musiala won’t know what’s hit him, left jilted and alone.”
The group erupted in laughter.
“That’s funny, guys. Really,” Jamie said sarcastically.
“But seriously,” he added after a moment, “look at ‘em, does that look like two men who hate each other?”
“It’s not like they are from feuding houses, Jamie,” Reece told him, “They can sit together during their bloody supervisor duty and talk without killing one another.”
“Just a couple weeks ago, you said they couldn’t stand being in the classroom together, now they are sitting around and cosying up like it’s a goddamn Sunday afternoon, and you lot don’t find that even a little weird.”
There was a pause.
“You might be overthinking it, mate,” Reece said.
“Nah.” Jamie got up from his spot on the grass, “Nah, I’m right about it.” With casual determination, Jamie made his way over to the pair.
They were both chuckling quietly when he reached them, practically staring at each other all moony-eyed. They broke apart when they realised they had been approached, both landing their attention on Jamie.
Coach shifted slightly in his seat, “Alright, Jamie?"
“Sirs.” Jamie gave them a short nod in greeting.
Silence.
“What can we do for you, Brown?” Olise prompted, looking up from his coffee.
Jamie was left stunned, suddenly realising that he had absolutely no plan or course of action, beyond getting closer to whatever fucking lovefest was going on over here.
“I just—I was—” he stumbled over his words, paused, and then it hit him, “Coach, I was just wonderin’... what’s your husband like?”
It was a strange question. The kind of question most people would probably wonder why the hell they were being asked so suddenly, but not Musiala, he lit up, absolutely thrilled by the question, and Jamie almost regretted asking. But it wasn’t Musiala’s reaction he was interested in. It was Olise’s. Jamie wanted to see exactly how the man felt about hearing about the great, lovely husband of Coach Musiala.
Olise seemed to retreat almost instantly, stopping mid-sip. His eyebrows pinched together at Musiala’s obvious excitement, and his arm dropped from its spot along the back of the bench. Suddenly the other side of the yard seemed unbelievably interesting to Olise.
“Oh, Mikey?” Musiala began to gush.
“Yeah, well, you talk about him all the time, but none of us have ever actually met him, you know?”
“Well, I sure do talk about him a lot. You got me there.” Musiala leaned back against the bench, considering it. “He is just lovely like that, you know?”
“I bet,” Olise drawled sarcastically, still refusing to look back at them.
Musiala’s grin only widened, “He damn well is. You know you love hearing about it, Olise.”
Jamie was a little taken aback by the exchange, while Olise’s withdrawn reaction made sense to him, Musiala’s excitement around sharing it, or his insistence that Olise was not only familiar with his ramblings about Mikey, but apparently loved listening to them, it was something else. Not to mention the way Musiala casually used the other man’s surname. Jamie had heard him do it plenty of times before, but now, in this context, it seemed to roll just a little too easily off his tongue.
“He’s smart,” Coach began, “Like, annoyingly smart. And really competitive, which honestly is a hell of a combination.”
Jamie’s eyes wandered to Olise and he had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers, like this was physically painful to listen to. Interesting. “How so?” he asked.
“See, every weekend we play chess. We can spend hours just sitting there playing. And don’t get me wrong kid, I love it, but sometimes I’ll mess with him just to piss him off. Move the pieces around whenever he looks away, put them back in the wrong places, that sort of thing” he smiled fondly at the memory, “Gets so mad. Face all scrunched up, stomping his feet like some angry little rabbit or something” he laughed. “But you know me, I’m a nice guy after all, so eventually, I laugh at him a little, stop taking the piss and we start the game again properly so I can let him win.”
Olise let out a strangled snort, Jamie’s lips twitched upward and Musiala ignored them both.
“And he’s so bossy, Jamal you forgot to take the bins out. Jamal, did you finish your protein shake? No? Go on then, we’re late. Jamal, where’s the dog food? I told you that fat-arse dog of yours ate everything we had left.”
Jamie listened to the rambling, Musiala was practically glowing, bursting with pride over a list of things that, to Jamie, mostly sounded like complaints. Jamie wondered how the hell this man had ever managed to get married.
“Sounds unbearable,” Olise muttered.
Musiala continued grinning, and lightly tapped Olise on the shoulder with the back of his hand, "Eh. Sometimes."
“And you’re still married to him?” Olise asked, looking down at the last sip of his coffee.
Musiala nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately.”
Jamie watched the exchange closely. Musiala seemed completely relaxed but Olise, however, was being weird. Very weird.
Exactly how Jamie imagined someone would behave while listening to the bloke they were secretly shagging talk about how brilliant his husband was.
“So you really love him, then?” Jamie asked.
Musiala’s expression softened immediately. “Course I do.”
Olise went very still, Jamie nearly gasped.
There. There. Jealousy.
He knew it.
“Best thing that ever happened to me, probably.” Coach continued.
Olise cleared his throat. “That's enough interrogation for one lunch break, I think.”
Jamie whipped towards him.
Musiala flashed a wide grin to Olise, who all but rolled his eyes and looked away again.
Jamie flicked his gaze between the two, part of him felt guilty for upsetting the perfectly good moment they’d been having, the other part was intrigued by the new pieces of evidence he could add to his mental investigation folder.
“Well, thanks for that, Coach. Much to think about.” Jamie turned on his heel and headed back to the group of boys.
“Well?” the others prompted as Jamie dropped back onto the grass.
“Well, Olise was none too happy to hear Musiala talking about his husband, that’s for sure.”
“No shit, J.” Callum rolled his eyes. “you give Musiala a free pass to talk about that man and anyone’s gonna get annoyed.”
“Nah.” Jamie shook his head. “it was more than that, I’m telling ya.”
He turned his head back towards the two, Musiala leaned into Olise, saying something with his signature toothy grin while Olise pushed his face away, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into an almost-smile.
Jamie narrowed his eyes. Much, much to think about.
…
“I saw ’em.”
Jamie looked up from his textbook as Reece stalked across the courtyard towards him and leaned against the table in front of him. His energy was wild, and Jamie was a little concerned.
“I fuckin’ saw ’em, J.”
“Saw who?”
“Jesus, you haven’t shut up about it for months now and when I come to you with actual intel you don’t even understand,” Reece dropped into the seat opposite him, a small fire still burning in his eyes.
Jamie sat up a little straighter. Musiala and Olise. Reece saw them.
“What do you mean you saw them?” he asked, starting to catch a bit of Reece’s chaotic energy himself.
“Well.” Reece leaned in closer. “My mum’s birthday was Saturday, yeah? We went out for dinner, this proper fancy place, right? And I sort of noticed this couple sitting off in the corner, but I didn’t really get a good look at them. Then I hear this laugh—you know Coach’s laugh, you’d recognise it anywhere, right? So I look over, and there they are. Musiala and Olise. Sitting in a dark corner, candlelit table, talkin’, laughin’, drinkin’. It looked a hell of a lot like a date to me.”
Jamie practically jumped out of his seat, “I told ya, I fuckin’ told ya, didn’t I? They are fuckin’-’”
“Hey, hey, shush.” Reece held his hands up in surrender, trying his best to settle him down. “I never said that. All I’m saying is they looked close. They didn’t actually do anything.”
He paused, considered his words, and leaned in close again. “And they left together.”
“Left together? They left together? Like, they left the restaurant together or they went home together?” he pushed Reece for answers, feeling so damn close to vindication he could practically taste it.
“They walked out together, Jamie. I didn’t follow them home.”
“Why not? You taking this investigation seriously or not, mate?”
Reece sighed and reached across the table to clap Jamie on the shoulder, “just telling you what I saw, that’s all. I might not think you are completely crazy after all.”
Jamie’s mind raced with the new information. He was beyond glad to finally have some pretty solid evidence from a reliable source—and maybe even someone in his camp for once.
He couldn’t help digging a little deeper at training that afternoon.
“Have a good weekend, Coach?”
Musiala shot him a look. Jamie’s increasing interest in his personal life over the past few months had apparently started to raise some suspicion.
“Fine, thanks, Jamie,” he said shortly, giving him a small nod.
Jamie paused, then pushed again. “Do anything special?”
“Dev, you’ve got a whole hoop to aim at, mate!” Coach yelled across the court at the boys practising, only half paying attention to Jamie before answering. “Nope, just spent some time with the husband.”
“Right. Mikey, right,” Jamie tossed the ball from one hand to the other. “Didn't go see anyone else?”
Musiala turned towards him, hands on his hips, looking thoroughly annoyed and entirely uninterested in the conversation, he stared Jamie down for a long moment.
“No,” he finally answered simply.
“No? I thought you might’ve—”
“Go run suicides, J.” Coach cut him off sharply, eager to get rid of him. Given the mood he was in, Jamie didn’t even think about protesting. He dropped the ball and set off on a jog.
Definitely suspicious, Jamie thought to himself, maybe Musiala knows I’m onto them.
…
Any concern Jamie had about being late for the match disappeared in a literal puff of smoke when he noticed Coach Musiala tucked into the little alcove beside the sports hall. That in itself wasn’t any sort of newsworthy event, it was who he was with - of course - that stopped Jamie.
Standing across from him, not even a metre apart, was Mr Olise. The two of them were idly chatting, like they were simply enjoying each other’s company. No reason behind it. No argument, no work-related excuse, nothing.
Jamie crouched down, hiding as best he could as he observed the scene.
“It’s nearly game time,” Olise told the other man, glancing down at his watch, “you’d better get to the team.”
Had Jamie possessed any common sense whatsoever, he would’ve taken that as his cue to get the hell out of there and into his kit but he didn’t. He stayed exactly where he was, desperate to see how this unfolded. How the two of them acted when they thought they were alone.
Musiala hummed in agreement, nodding his head as he stepped into the small space separating them.
“Better get my good-luck kiss first.”
For one whole second, his knees nearly gave out beneath him and he had to grab the wall beside him to keep himself upright. There was no fucking way he’d heard that correctly, maybe this whole thing had finally driven him insane. Maybe he’d spent so long obsessing over his stupid theory that he’d started hallucinating evidence.
Olise crossed his arms and leaned further back against the wall, that expression Jamie had come to know so well settling over his face—the one where he tried to look stern, but the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Oh, come on.” Musiala stepped closer, invading the other man’s personal space like it was nothing, “Still waiting.”
Jamie physically cringed. They were talking about good-luck kisses? How were they being this goddamn blatant out in the open? How had no one caught them sooner if this was how they acted?
Their voices dropped as they stood closer together, and Jamie strained to keep listening.
“You’ll survive, Jamal.”
Musiala crowded over Olise, his head bending slightly down to compensate for the marginal height difference. “So cruel, darling.”
Darling? No fucking way. Jamie must’ve misheard that.
“So you’re not gonna kiss me? That’s it?”
“Well, I’ll have to think about it first,” Olise teased.
Musiala grinned, and Jamie was immediately reminded of the way he’d looked while winding Olise up in the classroom. Like getting a reaction out of him was some sort of game. A sport. Jamie fuckin’ knew it had been just flirting.
“That’s a hell of a gamble, thinking I’d give in to those sorts of threats,” Musiala’s nose bumped with Olise’s, his voice barely above a whisper, “and here I thought you weren’t a betting man.”
“Hardly a risk, I think,” Olise caught hold of the front of Musiala’s jacket. “No way you are holding out for long without your kiss.”
“We’ll see.” Musiala smirked, and moved to step backwards, but Olise held onto his jacket tighter, keeping him in place.
With that, the two men seemed to drop the pretence of empty threats and their lips met in the middle.
Jamie forgot how to breathe. He was right. He was goddamn right, there they were, clear as day - they were… Well, they were kissing. He’d been right about one thing, at least, they definitely didn’t fucking hate each other, that was for sure.
The kiss only lasted a moment, before they broke apart, not moving far. Musiala traced his hands upward and cupped Olise’s jaw in them and then leaned in again peppering his lips with small, slow kisses.
In doing so, Jamie noticed the gold wedding band on Musiala’s finger and felt a shiver go through him. In all the excitement of his speculation, his determination to prove the affair, he’d almost forgotten the affair part. He still felt vindicated but it was slightly tainted as he saw so plainly the proof of the vow Coach had made to a man that anyone would think, from the way he talked, Musiala was hopelessly devoted to, and how the solid gold band contrasted against Olise’s cheek as they kissed. They were the sort of adults he’d thought were actually worth listening to, worth modelling himself after. He wondered if maybe they weren’t as admirable and honourable as he thought them to be.
They pulled apart after a short time.
“I’d better get to the team,” Musiala said.
Olise gave him a couple of playful pats on the cheek, “Go get ’em, tiger.”
Jamie took that as his cue, he had approximately thirty seconds to get changed and he needed to get the hell out of there before Musiala spotted him in his hiding spot.
“Jesus, Jamie, where the hell have you been?” Callum scolded as he came barrelling into the changing room.
“Just running late. Keep your knickers on,” Jamie shot back, already yanking off his jumper.
He sidled up to Reece, who was already dressed and ready for the match.
“Reece, mate, you’re not gonna believe what I just saw.”
“Don’t care, Jamie. Get changed.”
“Nah, you do,” Jamie spoke quickly as he rushed to get his kit on. “It’s a big one.”
“It doesn’t matter, Coach will be here any second.”
As if on cue, Musiala walked through the changing-room door. Maybe Jamie was imagining things, but the man looked awfully chuffed with himself, his cheeks a little rosy.
“Alright, boys. Let’s get moving.”
Jamie felt antsy the whole match. His mind wouldn’t shut up with this new information. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He needed to do something, say something. But he just had no fucking idea what, or to whom.
…
It was three days after Jamie witnessed the kisses before the match that he finally broke. It wasn’t planned. He had been sitting and stewing on the information, trying to decide what to do. But on Friday afternoon he was headed out of the empty school and he came across Coach Musiala outside Mr Olise’s classroom.
Jamie paused, and after a moment, Olise emerged, wrapping a blue scarf around his neck. Musiala stood and watched, looking at the man like he’d hung the goddamn moon and stars, and Jamie just couldn’t do it anymore.
“Hey, Coach!” he called down the hall, breaking into a small half-jog towards him. “I gotta talk to you about somethin’.”
Both men looked at him, both looking a little like they’d been caught.
“Can it wait until Monday, Brown? I’m headed home.”
“No, sir, it cannot,” Jamie told him resolutely, stopping in front of him.
Musiala crossed his arms, and Olise stood off to the side somewhat awkwardly.
“Alright.” Musiala eyed him up and down cautiously, “go on.”
“Coach, you know I respect the hell out of ya, right? I’d goddamn follow ya into war if you asked me to. That’s how much I trust ya. So don’t be thinking there’s any judgement, or shame, none of that. I just gotta know.”
The older man watched him, clearly confused.
“And I’m just hoping that, knowing how I think of you, you might be able to trust me too and just be straight with me. And I know it’s none of my business, but I promise I won’t ask anything more, and I ain’t gonna tell anyone. You can trust that. I’m just hoping we can trust each other here, and if I ask, you can tell me and we can be done with it.” Jamie’s mouth was running faster than his brain, but he wanted Coach to know where he was coming from. He just needed some goddamn peace of mind.
“What’s going on, J?” Musiala prompted, seemingly growing impatient with the rambling.
“Okay, I just gotta ask you one thing, y’know? ’Cause I’m going mental not knowing. Like, I’m just hoping you could put me out of my misery, right here, right now, sir—”
“Is everything okay, Jamie?” Olise cut him off, looking at him with genuine concern. He truly was a decent man. That was, if you ignored the adultery, of course.
Jamie was about to respond, but Musiala got there first. “Maybe just give us a minute, Mikey, yeah?”
Olise nodded and moved to leave, but Jamie stopped him, pointing a finger that he hadn’t intended to look quite so accusatory.
“Hey, no, don’t you go nowhere. This involves you too.” He turned back towards Musiala, pointing at him now. “Now, I just gotta—” Jamie stopped. His brain finally caught up. He slowly turned back towards Olise. “...Did he just call you Mikey?”
Olise blinked slowly at the question, “...Yeah.”
“Why—why’d he call you Mikey?” Jamie’s eyes darted between them a million times over.
Musiala looked down at the floor, scratching behind his ear like he knew he’d just fucked up. Olise, somehow, still looked confused.
“It’s a nickname, Jamie. I know you boys are familiar with the concept.”
“Yeah, but—” Jamie pointed at Musiala. “He called you Mikey, and that’s what Coach calls his husband,” his brain was working overtime again, “his Mikey Musiala…” He stared at Olise, you love hearing about it, echoed in his head, “Holy shit.”
“Jamie…” Musiala started to cut him off but Jamie was already gone.
“No, ’cause that would mean… Coach calls his husband Mikey. He’s been talking about Mikey forever. And now he’s calling you Mikey. So either there are two fucking Mikeys running around here or—” Jamie stopped, staring at Olise. “Wait. Why the fuck is he calling you Mikey?”
“Michael,” Olise interrupted. “My first name is Michael, Brown.”
“What?!” he shouted. “Your name is Michael?”
“Yes.”
“But—but if you, Mr Olise— Mr Michael Olise, is being called Mikey by Coach Musiala that makes Mikey Musiala and Mr Michael Mikey Olise the same person. And Mikey Musiala is Coach Musiala’s husband, and if they are the same person then that makes… Mr Olise, that would make you Coach’s husband.”
There was a long pause, Jamie felt out of breath and a little lightheaded.
Musiala chuckled slightly, “Not sure I followed all that, but I think he got there in the end.”
Jamie watched them both. Coach seemed to find the whole thing hilarious, while Olise was staring up at the ceiling like he was asking it for strength.
“But...” Jamie scratched the side of his head. “Mr Olise, you aren’t married. You don’t have a ring or anything.”
He knew Olise was closed-off. Private. But Jamie had known the bloke for nearly four years and had never known he was married, let alone married to his basketball coach. It didn’t seem possible.
He didn’t even know the man’s first name, for fuck’s sake.
Apparently, he said that last part out loud.
“Well, it didn’t seem particularly important for you lot to know if you were absolutely never going to address me by it anyway,” Olise replied.
Honestly, that was totally fair.
“Also, I don’t wear my ring at work,” Olise continued, “because I don’t need a bunch of nosy students asking questions about my private life. I like to keep it private.”
“Yeah, but Coach talks about your private life all the time.”
“Yeah, still working on a way to get him to shut up.”
And Olise smiled. Like, actually properly smiled. Like the same smile Jamie was certain he tried to repress every day at school whenever Musiala started with his antics.
“And to be fair, you boys have never had a clue who I’m talking about,” Musiala added.
Jamie looked between the two a few more times. Married. They were married. This whole time, they’d just been a married couple who had somehow convinced practically every student in the school that they were sworn enemies, all while going home together at the end of the day to curl up on the sofa with their dog.
“And we’d like to keep it that way, Jamie,” Musiala said, his voice turning slightly more serious.
“Oh, hey.” Jamie held up a hand in surrender, “Secret’s safe with me. you don’t gotta worry.”
“Appreciate it.” Musiala bumped his shoulder lightly with his fist.
“Shame I can’t rub it in the boys’ faces that I was right, but lips sealed.”
“Right about what?”
“Oh, I’ve been telling them for months that you two were havin’ an affair.”
Both men stared at him.
“You weren’t right, though.”
“We aren’t having an affair.”
Jamie considered that.
“...Right.” A beat. “But, I did say you were fuckin’. And I know I gotta be right about that, huh?” Jamie was met with a stony silence and he cringed instantly regretting his words. “I’m now thinking that was something I should not have said. In fact, that would be incredibly inappropriate for me to say.”
“Yeah,” Musiala deadpanned.
Jamie chuckled nervously, “Probably part of the reason you don’t want people knowing about your personal lives.”
“Exactly,” Olise agreed.
Jamie swallowed. “Right, well...” he clapped his hands together, “you guys have a great weekend. Together. In your home. Which you share. Because. As we just established, you are married.”
“Have yourself a good weekend, Jamie,” Olise told him.
“We’ll see you Monday.”
With that, the two men exchanged a look, another one of those moments of silent communication Jamie had spent months obsessing over, before turning and heading down the corridor towards the exit.
“For the record, Mr Olise,” Jamie called after them before he could stop himself, “I reckon you’d look real good with a ring on your finger!”
Neither man gave any indication that they’d heard him. But Musiala turned towards his husband with a wide grin and caught Olise by the wrist, lifting his hand between them for inspection. Coach nodded towards it as he said something Jamie couldn’t hear.
Olise grinned, pulled his hand free and used it to shove Musiala away.
Undeterred, Musiala fell back into step beside him, swung his arm over Olise’s shoulder and pulled him in close. He pushed his face into the man’s cheek and whispered something before smacking a kiss to his cheek.
Jamie watched it all unfold, scratching his head.
Married, he thought, didn’t see that one coming.
…
“So?” Reece asked expectantly as they walked out of history.
“So what?” Jamie replied, feigning confusion.
“Oh, come on, Jamie. I know you saw it.” Reece leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Olise has got a wedding ring on.”
“What about it?”
“Seriously? You haven’t shut up about Musiala and Olise all season, but the bloke rocks up with a wedding ring and you’ve got no comments?”
“I guess he got married.”
“That’s it? No speculation? No investigation? No theories about illicit affairs?”
Jamie shrugged.
“Don’t know what to tell ya, Reece. Guess I was just wrong.”