Julian and Air weren’t best friends—not even close. They were just teammates, tied together by the same soccer team, endless drills, and the silent trust that came from playing side by side. Off the field, their paths hardly crossed.

Still, for Julian, it felt different. He’d liked Air for a while now, though he’d never said it out loud. Air had this way of treating everyone the same—fair, easygoing, never quick to judge. He didn’t mock or sneer like some of the others. Around him, Julian didn’t feel like he had to put on an act. That quiet kindness was enough to pull him in. To Julian, Air wasn’t just another guy on the team—he was the one person who never treated him rudely.

The locker room was quiet, save for the hum of the lights and the faint drip of water somewhere in the background. Most of the team had already cleared out, but Air stayed behind, toweling off after a brutal set of drills. The soles of his cleats tapped against the tile as he grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink.

Julian was still there too.

He stood a few lockers down—shirtless, chest rising and falling with the remnants of practice. His skin glistened with sweat under the harsh fluorescents. He wasn’t moving, not really. Just… watching.

“You were really good today,” Julian said suddenly, his voice slightly hoarse. “Like… really good.”

Air took a glance at him and smiled. "Thanks man."

Julian nodded, but there was a flicker in his eyes—uncertainty, hesitation. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but closed it again and looked away. Something about his whole posture felt tight. Nervous.

Air caught the way Julian’s gaze drifted to him, then to the floor. He arched a brow. “Something on my face?”

Julian jumped slightly. “What? No–noo, there’s nothing.” He quickly turned back to his gym bag, but the faint blush on his cheeks said otherwise.

Air shrugged it off, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He was halfway to the door when Julian’s voice rang out, a bit sharper than before.

“Wait!”

Air stopped, turning back. “What’s up?”

Julian hesitated, hands twitching at his sides. “Can I… ask you something?”

“Sure.”

The pause was heavy. Julian took a breath, then another. “You’re not gonna… think I’m weird, right?”

Air tilted his head. “That depends on the question.”

Julian laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Never mind. Forget it. It’s stupid.”

Air frowned. “Okay then.” He turned to leave again.

“Seriously—wait!”

Julian’s footsteps echoed as he closed the distance. Before Air could react, Julian gently grabbed his arm.

Air froze. No one had ever done that before—stopped him like that.

Julian’s hand was warm, a little shaky. His eyes searched Air’s face, pleading. “Please. Just listen.”

Air’s eyes dropped to Julian’s grip, then back to his face. “What is it?”

Julian swallowed hard, like the words physically hurt. “You know how we’re teammates. Friends. We’ve been through stuff together on the field, right?”

Air gave a cautious nod.

“Well… for me, it’s more than that.” Julian’s voice cracked slightly. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now. And I know it’s probably dumb but… I like you, Air. Like, actually like you.”

Air blinked. His heart stuttered in his chest, but his expression didn’t give much away. He defaulted to safety.

“Yeah… totally. We’re brothers.”

Julian flinched like the word stung. His smile wavered, but he pushed it forward anyway. “Right. Brothers. That’s what I meant too. Totally.”

He tried to laugh, but it didn’t sound real. Not even close.

Air nodded awkwardly, not sure how to exit the conversation fast enough. “I… should go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Don’t let me keep you.” Julian stepped back, hands buried deep in his pockets, shoulders slumped just slightly.

Air gave a short wave and walked out fast, his thoughts racing.

Behind him, Julian murmured under his breath, “Yeah. Bye.”

---

The Next Day – After Hours on the Field

The sun had long dipped behind the trees, leaving the soccer field bathed in gold-tinted shadows. Most of the team had gone home, but Air stayed behind, running drills alone—ball after ball into the net like he could chase silence out of his head.

He didn’t hear Julian approach until a quiet voice said, “Hey.”

Air turned, startled to see him.

Julian stood at the edge of the field, hoodie up, hands stuffed deep in his pockets like they were anchoring him to earth.

“Didn’t expect anyone else to be here,” Air said, wiping his brow.

“I could say the same,” Julian replied. His voice was softer now. “Mind if I join?”

Air hesitated a moment, then kicked a spare ball in Julian’s direction. “Sure.”

They passed the ball back and forth for a few minutes in silence. Julian kept his distance, but his eyes never really left Air.

“You’re always this focused,” Julian said. “Even when no one’s around.”

Air didn’t respond. He just kept practicing.

Julian finally stopped, standing still in the grass. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” he said. “Keep thinking about yesterday.”

Air froze mid-step, the ball rolling past him.

Julian took a deep breath. “Can we not pretend anymore?”

Air straightened slowly. His chest tightened.

“You knew what I meant,” Julian continued, voice rough. “I wasn’t talking about ‘brotherhood,’ and you know it. I like you, Air. I’ve liked you for a while. And I thought maybe—maybe you and I….”

Air gazed at him slowly, lips parted but no words coming. The field suddenly felt too big. Too quiet.

“Julian…” he started. “I respect you. I do. You’re a good teammate. But I don’t… feel that way.”

Julian flinched. He looked down, jaw tight, but didn’t move.

Air turned, starting to walk away again.

But Julian moved as quickly as he could to reach him — almost making it — his fingers only just brushing against Air’s arm. “Don’t make this just about soccer. Please. I’m not trying to mess things up. I just… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

Air stopped but didn’t look back. “--Julian, no.”

Julian’s breath hitched. His eyes shimmered, but he didn’t cry. Not in front of Air. He took a step back, folding his arms to stop them from shaking. “Air, please don’t hate me…”

“I don’t hate you, okay?” Air said quietly, turning to face him. “But emotion can’t be forced. You get that?”

Julian stepped in closer and grabbed Air’s arm—gently, but firmly. His hand was warm, his grip tight like he couldn’t let go. “You’re right. Emotions can’t be forced. But… What if they’re already there? What if I already feel…”

He trailed off, lips parting slightly as if the rest of the words were trapped in his throat. His fingers loosened on Air’s arm, unsure now—caught between fighting for the moment or stepping away from it.

Air’s brows furrowed slightly. “Okay… but what do you want me to do? I don’t think of you that way.”

Julian’s face fell.

He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back what was already threatening to spill out. “It’s… it’s fine…” He stepped back and let go of Air’s arm, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“I’m sorry, dude. I really am,” Air said and began walking toward the exit.

“Wait—no, hey. Hold on.”

Julian’s voice came again—sharper this time, more desperate. He closed the distance quickly and grabbed Air’s shoulder, spinning him back around.

“Just… don’t go. Not yet.”

His usual confident air had completely vanished. The way his fingers curled into Air’s shoulder wasn’t aggressive—it was pleading. He looked like he’d fall apart if Air took one more step away.

Air stared at him. He’d never really taken a moment to notice how much Julian had changed—how his frame had filled out, how steady and strong he’d become. In his mind, Julian was still that small, quiet boy who’d first joined the team. But now, Air couldn’t even pull away if he tried. “Hey… let go,” he murmured.

Julian’s grip tightened unintentionally, as if even his body refused to back down. His eyes locked on Air’s, searching—hoping.

“Don’t go, Air. Please.” His voice cracked. “Just… give me another minute. That’s all.”

He was breathing hard again, chest rising and falling as fast as it had during the last round of sprints. Everything about him looked unguarded—like a defender with no one behind him.

Air’s hands came up instinctively, calm and careful. “Okay. Calm down… calm down.”

Julian flinched at the touch but didn’t back away. Slowly, he let his arms drop. His whole body seemed to deflate, the tension draining from his shoulders.

He sniffled and wiped his face quickly with the sleeve of his team hoodie. “S-sorry, man. I… I just…”

The words slipped away. He stood there, caught between regret and heartbreak, his jaw clenched, his eyes staring at the floor.

Air hesitated, then lightly bumped a fist against Julian’s chest—just like they did before every match. “Don’t be sorry. Look, I don’t hate you, alright?” He tried to offer a half-smile. “We’re bros.”

But Julian didn’t want that. Not now. Not anymore.

The fist bump made him freeze. His expression shifted, and for a second, it looked like the whole world was fighting inside him. His heart was written on his face—raw, wide open, and breaking.

“Yeah… bros…” he whispered.

But it didn’t sound like he meant it.

Before Air could say anything, Julian leaned in—slowly, carefully, like his body was moving without permission. His eyes flicked to Air’s lips. His voice came out breathless.

“Air…”

His face was only inches away, almost touching.

“No—don’t,” Air said quickly, stepping back.

Julian halted immediately. His eyes widened. His face flushed red with shame as he stumbled backward, hands going up in apology.

“Oh God…” he muttered, barely able to speak. “I didn’t mean—I…”

He turned away, face in his hands. Air stood frozen for a heartbeat—then his legs moved, quick strides that turned into a full sprint out of the field. 

Behind him, Julian stood motionless, as if time itself had stalled. Then, slowly, his knees gave out and he sank to the floor, collapsing into a sitting heap with no strength left to hold himself up. His hands trembled as they pressed against his forehead.

“Dammit,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Dammit… dammit…”

He stayed there, alone in the silence, the weight of rejection pressing down on him—trying, and failing, to pull himself back together.

The next day at lunchtime

Julian slouches at his usual table, staring blankly at his half-eaten sandwich. He hasn't slept much, his mind replaying the disastrous conversation over and over. He's lost his appetite, but he's eating mechanically, trying to distract himself.

His eyes kept flicking to the cafeteria doors, hoping Air might walk in like nothing had happened. Then he appeared. Julian spotted him instantly, and he noticed Julian too. He gave a friendly wave. Forcing a smile, Julian lifted his hand in return, though the expression felt tight and wrong. A flicker of panic ignited in his chest—did he plan to tell anyone about yesterday?

A nervous, high-strung smile stayed plastered on his face as his heart thudded in his ears. Oh, crap, oh, crap, oh, crap. His palms grew damp, and his eyes darted around the room, scanning faces, searching for signs that anyone suspected anything.

After practice, Air stayed behind to wash up.

Julian lingered outside the locker room, waiting until the last of the team had left. When the coast was clear, he hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. His gaze found Air alone, rinsing off. His stomach tightened, and his pulse quickened. He swallowed hard, trying to summon courage—he needed to know.

He stepped in quietly, the squeak of his sneakers echoing faintly against the tile. Clearing his throat, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Hey, Air?”

Air didn’t hear him at first. When Julian spoke louder, Air startled, and Julian flinched in response.

“Whoa, easy. It’s just me,” Julian said with a nervous chuckle, trying to mask the reason he was there.

He moved closer, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shifting his weight as if unsure whether to apologize, to ask his question, or to simply walk away. Instead, he stayed silent for a moment, studying Air’s face as if searching for some kind of sign.

Air tried to keep it casual. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Julian swallowed again, his eyes darting anywhere but at Air—lingering on the lockers, the floor—anywhere safer than direct contact.

“Uh… nothing. It’s… it’s....”

His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh, betraying his nerves. Finally, he blurted,

“…Did you… did you talk to anyone about… y’know…?” The end of the sentence dissolved into nothing.

Air exhaled slowly. So that’s what he was worried about.

“Rest assured. I didn’t tell anyone.”

Julian let out a sharp breath, the relief visible in the way his shoulders eased. Still, there was caution in his tone when he replied,

“Oh, okay. Good. Really good. Thanks, Air.” His voice wavered, exposing a trace of lingering doubt.

“…You’re… you’re not mad, right? You’re not gonna hate me or… or anything?”

Air shook his head with a small smile. “I’m glad I know. Thanks for liking me.”

A warm flush spread across Julian’s cheeks, his eyes widening. He was stunned—completely unprepared for Air’s kindness. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again as if the right words might suddenly appear.

“Wait… what? You’re… glad?” he echoed, still reeling. The tight grip he’d had on his emotions loosened, the fear of judgment slowly lifting. Vulnerability replaced it, but oddly, he felt lighter.

End of Chapter 1

author's note: Hello everyone! Please support me to write more!