c’est la vie

being sexually frustrated in a secret thing with your longtime best friend when you’re also losing nearly every match you play in isn’t a good pair and should never be mixed.

art slowly got off the bed, furrowing his eyebrows at his use of words. “what do you mean how did i ‘get like this,’ huh?” he could feel the wrinkle forming between his eyebrows get harsher every second. art stood before the man, attempting to connect their eyes to get a simple answer. “look at me.”

“you act like i piss you off by even breathing.”

“you don’t.”

“yeah, well, that’s not how you sound like after we literally fuck each other, so…”

patrick rolled his eyes with a bitter side smirk while art stood in disbelief. he let out a scoff, “do you think i’m disowning you or something? like i don’t get it, man,” the blond spoke. he stood in his stanford tennis shirt and a pair of boxers that were supposed to be off by now. “you’re my best friend.”

“best friend, right,” said patrick as he slipped his clothes back on and grabbed his keys. “i’m not just gonna let you throw me away and act like this,” patrick paused his words to gesture his hand between the two of them, “isn’t something.” he finished with a glare. “fucking your best friend is something, art! surprisingly!”

“you can’t get butt hurt over this, patrick,” art attempted to let out a laugh to brighten up the situation that held no fixing. “i love you and all, but i thought we were doing this for fun.”

patrick felt his jaw practically drop at what he had just heard. his mind stinging with rage as he put a hand over his mouth to prevent the word vomit that would’ve came out. “do you even hear yourself right now? i’m—i can’t even believe you. seriously.”

he nearly left the man’s dorm as he felt his hand get tugged. the calloused hands of art holding on to patrick’s in an attempt to heal the wound that was only getting bigger as this argument unveiled. it was like they were constantly going in a circle. “i’m sorry if i offended you, but—”

“i want you to be with me!” patrick breathed out as he couldn’t hold back his tongue. the words spilling out before his brain even calculated it. his hands flew into the air in defeat as he was tired of hearing it all. “i—you’re supposed to be with me.”

he didn’t want to lie to himself anymore. he didn’t want to lay in complete silence over how he felt and let himself get pushed off like he didn’t matter. he didn’t know if this was his punishment from the universe for not going to college and instantly going pro. if it is… it was an evil one, that’s for sure.

the two sat in a heavy silence, neither daring to speak up. art had his jaw clenched, eyes fixated to the ground as patrick pulled his hand away. “you don’t understand, patrick.”

“like hell i don’t understand, man!”

patrick pushed him away, art stumbled a bit as he kept his control. they hadn’t gotten into an argument before. not like this, at least. patrick was the only person, other than you, who knew art more than he did himself. “do you know how sick it is to me and how infuriating it is to see you kiss your girlfriend with the same lips that sucked me off the night before? seriously, that’s some messed up shit.”

he was sick of the denial. the constant lying to his face when he asked about this. why couldn't it be true? what was so impossible about them?

“i don’t know what’s not getting through to you."

"and i'm trying to tell you right now, in your face, that i am in love with you and that i find myself in the future still being with you," patrick muttered, eyes fluttering back the tears as he looked away to compose himself. he ran a hand over his face, breathing in and out to handle the emotions that just kept rising no matter how much he tried to hold them back. he was practically falling apart in front of art, and he just stood there with an averted gaze.

"it hurts me to know that we will never be together for however long i stay in this body. it keeps me awake, everything about you, and it bothers me so fucking much that you won't ever feel the same. some days i feel like this is just a waste of time, and others feel like i'm gonna get married to you one day. the consequences don't even exist to me because all i need is love."

art turned around, walking back to the bed in silence, and taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. patrick sniffed, as if pushing his heart's needs back, and glanced at him from across the room.

"if you can't say that you love me to my face right now, i'm leaving and i'm never coming back."

he prayed he didn't keep the silence.

he prayed that he would say something. that he wouldn't be let go of so easily and replaced by someone who was the exact opposite of him. patrick didn't want it to end, but he kept true to himself and wouldn't want to sit around, waiting pathetically, for something that would never happen.

after a long beat, patrick trailed up to art's side, kneeling down to reach his gaze. art's hands rubbed against his thighs, shaking his head as patrick intertwined their fingers. the brunette's freckled cheeks were now stained with tears that escaped from his eyes. he peered to him in a silent plead. "can you say it to me? i don't wanna force you, just please..."

his ears were met with the dreadful sound of nothing.

patrick's breathing shuddered in disappointment. he observed the room, wanting to look anywhere other than him in this moment. the connection of their palms lingering before he pulled away in defeat.

he could never be the one, even if he tried to believe in it with all his might.

he stood up, swiping his knees and rubbing his nose with a sniff. patrick licked his lips, nodding in the heartfelt moment of stillness.

the noise of his shuffling to the door as his body felt weak. his hand reaching for the doorknob for his exit. he waited there for a second, hoping that art would somehow change his mind and ask him to wait. yell out something that would allow the pain to heal just a little bit easier. to hold his hand and tug it back so that he wouldn't go away.

when art didn't, he realized that this was their ever after.