"Thanks again for picking up Eli and Ming."

Rhys thanks Kique. Kique smiles bobbing up and down her heel. It's been two weeks since he met her and she has already made herself comfortable in his life. That made Jordan eternally grateful to him for giving him a reason to be around her. 

"No problem. Lee and Eli are so fucking adorable!" She gushes. "Now shoo. Hurry to your 'fake' man."

Rhys rolled his eyes and nods. No need to argue with her. As he walks towards the field he could feel a swell of worry grow inside of him. Is not like he cares what those other players think about him. They could all go to hell if they dare comment on his and Malik's 'relationship'. 

Relationship.

That's another thing weighing on him. Rhys kept to his word that there will be more sessions like that. He thinks they made out in almost ever room in the house. They were both insatiable. Both wanting more and more of the other each time they meet. However, they never gotten any further than touches underneath clothes. Rhys is not  sure he could handle anything  further despite how much his body said otherwise. When Malik's heavy but cautious hands caress his back and slowly move down lower until he's gripping him, he feels high. Higher than any drug could have made him.

Rhys shakes his head. No need to walk around with a boner pressing against his jeans. When he arrived at the field the first person he could point out was Malik. They seem to be just finishing up warm ups and Malik had a glisten of sweat on his forehead. His skin shinning an alluring glow against the mid evening sun. 

Shrugging his bag straps further up his shoulders he approached Malik with more strength. Looks of confusion were ignored as Rhys wrapped his arms around the broad man's shoulder and kissed him harshly.

Murmers and whistles came from the other teammates. Malik blinked slowly. His hand unconsciously rested on the small of Rhys' back. The old Rhys is committing suicide as they stare at each other. 

"Malik! What the hell are you doing?"

That's when Rhys noticed the second person. Coach Lamar was a scruffy looking fellow. He was tall and lanky with sort of bend in his stance. His shiny bald dome shined bright enough to blind someone. 

"Sorry coach. Boyfriend came to watch."

Malik said. Coach Lamar studied Rhys like he would study his playbook. An upward quirk of lips seemed him pleased. 

"Watch your ass you mean. Get back to work Malik, your boy can watch from the bleachers."

Coach said motioning to the metal benches. Rhys nods quickly before moving away from Malik. If someone told him a year ago that he was even on the bleachers watching, not even bringing up the fact he's watching his fake boyfriend, a game he would punched that person in the arm. 

Sadness pangs his heart. He couldn't help it. He loved sports. Sports has been part of his life since he was old enough to bounce a ball. But, no. He has other responsibilities. He can't focus on sports and his children at the same time. It pains him to admit it but it's the truth. 

Rhys dogs through his pocket looking for his phone. He needs some distraction. If not he might end up deep in his self loathing bullshit.

"Hey Key. You and the kids alright?"

"Oh we are chill. Eli brought home a hand puppet and he's committed in making one for everyone."

"Wish I was there to see him. "

"How you? Took a break from staring at Mal's ass?"

"Shut up. You stare too."

"Whose the one in the relationship?"

"Whatever."

"Been meaning to ask Resses Pieces. Do you mind sending me the notes you took a picture of. Wasn't English."

"Don't call me that and sure. Why weren't you English?"

"Principal got the fundraising committee setting up for a guest speaker for tomorrow."

"Fuck. Those things last for ages."

"Yeah. Speaker suppose to be this professor from Scotland. Suppose to be like a real TEdTalk sorta deal. Camera's and everything."

"Ew."

"Yeah. Gtg. Ming ready for her bottle.'

"Thanks again."

Rhys placed down the phone. He stretched his long limbs with and auditable pop in his joints. Curses of being tall, your back is always killing you. 

'A professor from Scotland.', the though rang through his mind. A picture of his uncle flash for a brief moment. If he wasn't missing his mother he was missing his uncle. Uncle Hades has always been there for him despite living so far away. He was more of a father to him than his own ever was. He doesn't want to imagine how he took the news of his supposed death.

Rhys sat on that uncomfortable metal bench for almost two hours. Half the time watching the players move around and the other half just watching Malik. He wonders if either of them would be able to handle a relationship. That is if they could come clean.

"Rhys. Going to shower. Meet you in a few." 

Malik said moving into the locker room. Rhys sighs not liking all this waiting. He rises from torture device people call a bench and begins roaming the empty field. He tried not stray to far from the bleachers but the rhythmic sound of a ball hitting a court drew him away. 

Despite the court being not as nearly as nice as the one at his old school, he still felt a sort of piece seeing one. A court is a court no matter how fancy it is. All he needs is the ball and the hoop to put it in. 

"Oh look, who's come to watch.", a familiar sneer said.

Ty's squinted gaze and cocky smile burned in Rhys' chest. He grips onto the wired fence and taunts,

"Mr. I can't believe there's no color looking ass."

"I'm not looking for trouble."

"But you are. You are the definition of trouble."

"What the fuck did I do to you?"

The wire shakes violently. 

"You really don't know?"

"Not a single clue."

"Well then. Don't I have a tale to tell?"