Post Match

post match

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the edge of your thumb brushes against the bottom of your racket. again and again, a much more docile back and forth than the game of tennis you just finished.

"now that was a...game." the breathy quality bleeding into patrick's voice implies a tiredness that serves as a point of pride. you're a fan of keeping friendly games friendly, but after playing with a talented duo that understands each other as well as patrick and art do, it's nice to know that you held your own.

your knees bend slightly, arm reaching downwards to grab the gym bag that you abandoned on the sidelines. "yeah," you hum earnestly, "you guys were great."

art tilts his head upwards, the corner of his mouth tugging itself upwards as he reaches for his own bag. "please," he mumbles as he unzips his bag, "even when you were on the singles side you had us fighting for our lives."

the warmth of art's words makes it hard to focus on rearranging the contents of your duffle bag. "you're exaggerating." you push the sandals you were wearing earlier, a spare pair of socks, and a set of tennis balls to one end of your bag. "but i appreciate it."

you're a little more careful when it comes to moving your t-shirt and denim shorts, taking the time to keep the clothes folded as you move them further into your bag. as you retract your hand, the side of your palm brushes against something cool. your water bottle.

how did you forget about that? you pull out the metal container, tucking it between your chest and forearm as you adjust your hold on your gym bag. finally, you shove the head of your racket into the newly available space.

your eyes shift upwards as you tug on you bag's zipper. patrick and art are standing close together in a way that highlights their familiarity. you've always felt the way that they understand each other on the court, but you're just starting to get the way that their closeness translates itself into life outside of the game.

"you guys are really good together." the suddenness of your own words surprises you. "anticipating moves, knowing when to let who go for it..." your explanation borders on awkward for some reason you don't exactly get.

there's a beat of silence, and the two of them exchange a look. you don't fully understand that either, but the corner of patrick's mouth shifts into a smile. he leans towards art, extending an arm to pull it around art's shoulder. "we're the team."

art works at remaining stiff, shaking his head slightly as patrick makes a show of squeezing his arm. "yeah, because he needs me to-"

"need?" patrick tugs on art's arm. "really? i need you?"

art lets out a partial laugh, shaking his head once as he halfheartedly tries to pull away. "no, no--you cut me off."

patrick looks over at you, eyes narrowing skeptically. "i don't believe him."

you twist the cap off your water bottle. "i'm neutral."

"neutral?" patrick repeats, letting his arm fall off of art's shoulder. he takes a small step in your direction. "really?"

you nod once before lifting your water bottle to your lips. before you can actually take a sip, the bottle is pulled out of your hand. you recognize patrick's smug smile before you've fully processed the fact that he's now holding your water bottle.

you cross your arms in front of your chest, lifting your chin slightly in an attempt to seem firm. "patrick."

"what?" his grin broadens as he bends his arm, holding the water close to his chest and out of easy reach.

you let your arms fall to your side in an attempt to seem nonconfrontational. patrick watches you, eyebrows raised and smile still glued into place. you take one step forward, and then another, again and again until patrick's within reach.

he watches you with an openness that's almost hard to take in all at once. you hold his gaze for what might be a second or a minute--you can't quite tell--and then you lift your arm as quickly as you can manage.

patrick's not thrown by the suddenness of your movement, taking a step back with an ease that's honestly a little irritating. he lets out a slight laugh as his arm bumps into art's.

art places a hand on patrick's shoulder in an attempt to keep him steady. you reach forward without thinking, your hand finding the skin beneath his wrist.

his grin broadens. patrick moves at a snail's pace. your fingers bend around his forearm. to your surprise, he doesn't move away again. he extends his arm carefully until the water bottle is just shy of your lips.

sometimes patrick's full attention feels so intentional, you feel like you should be able to pinpoint why he's looking at you so distinctively. if you dwell on it for long enough, you start feeling like you're missing something.

this time, though, there seems to be a silent question behind his gaze. you let your chin dip downwards in a cautious nod.

patrick tilts the container, the edge of it pressing against your bottom lip as water spills forward. you take two sips before patrick's straightening his wrist. he pulls the water bottle back enough to offer it to you. you take the bottle back out of instinct.

the confidence his smile radiates implies a smugness that digs at your skin. if he was anyone else, you're not sure you'd be able to stand him. "come on." patrick slings his tennis bag around his shoulder. "we need to hurry if we're going to make that movie you want to see."

patrick turns on his heels, walking forward without another word. it's instinct to want to follow along. patrick's a touchy person, and if no one else is going to consider what just happened weird, you won't either.

art's still, tennis bag sitting on his shoulder. you can't get yourself to take more than a step forward without seeing him move. "art?"

his gaze shifts from something just past your shoulder and onto you. the weight of art's full attention settles on you differently than patrick's. when art watches you, it's consuming in a way that's patient. there's a steadiness to any underlying intensity, like a minute could pass or an hour or an eternity and it wouldn't make a difference. he'll see whatever he needs to all the same.

art turns to face you fully before taking a step forward. he continues to walk towards you until he's so close you can see the faint array of freckles scattered across his skin. there's a particularly dark one near his chin.

he lifts an arm slowly. you don't move, not even when you can feel the tips of his fingers near the side of your cheek. art studies you for a second longer before letting his thumb brush against the edge of your bottom lip. the side of his thumb briefly presses into your skin, just enough to get your lips to part.

art pulls his hand back carefully, letting his palm linger against your skin as he moves back. "there was water on your..." his eyes briefly dip downwards before finding your own again. "patrick's messy."

"oh," you say, because you need to say something, "yeah."

the corner of his mouth pulls itself into a partial smile. he turns before you have to say anything else. "come on." art throws an arm around your shoulder. "we're gonna miss the movie."

you smile, a part of you glad that neither of them are looking at you right. "yeah, let's go." it takes a conscious effort to keep in pace with his long strides, but you don't mind it. "i don't want to miss the previews."

art's eyebrows draw together as he turns his head. "no one likes the previews."

you force a glare, tilting your chin downwards in an attempt to seem more intimidating. "i like the previews."

he squeezes your shoulder warmly. "you're so weird."

you let out a mock gasp. "really? i'm the weird one?"