Steve helps Lucas practice, sometimes. Patrick often watches them from where he's practicing across the court, listening to Buckley from band heckle them from where she sits with a book nearby. He doesn't know how she's connected to Lucas or Steve, but she's always there, too.
He’d heard once, from Lucas, that the two take him out for celebratory ice cream after each game, whether they win or not.
Patrick watches Steve and Lucas practice, the easy way Lucas is relaxed around him, even when he’s calling him out. When Buckley shouts at Lucas “TACKLE HIM!” Steve shouts back “THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!”, his tone doesn’t make her sound stupid. He’s laughing, and it looks like sunlight is breaking through on an overcast day. Dazzling, almost.
He’s not sure why Steve’s still around. He graduated a year ago, but he seems happy to be here, practising with Lucas and being heckled by Buckley whenever she looks up from her book. Either way, it’s… not quite a surprise, but nice to see.
The fourth time, he’s caught watching.
Lucas waves at him, beckoning him over, and introduces him to Steve.
Steve, glistening with sweat, turns to him and his face lights up. “I know Pat,” he says, grinning. “Hey, man, how’re you doing?”
He’d remembered his name.
“I’m good,” Patrick manages to say. “It’s, uh, good to see you.”
Steve laughs at that, golden in the sunlight.
“You don’t have to lie for my expense,” he says lightly, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know we didn’t get much of a chance to talk in school.”
His hand is warm against his sleeve.
“No, man, I mean it,” Patrick blurts out, because it is nice to see him. Then, in an effort to recover his dignity, he makes a lame comment about Lucas being a good player, and to watch out, he’ll be running them off the court soon.
“I don’t doubt it,” Steve says, puffing up with pride. Lucas, beside them, looks bashful, shying away from the praise.
Steve looks at his watch, then at Buckley sitting nearby, and finally lets his gaze settle back on Patrick.
“Well, we’ll stop hogging the court,” he says, and Patrick thinks of Achilles, golden and godlike among men. “It’s about time for us to go, anyway. I’d wish you good luck, but I’ve seen you in the game—You’re fantastic.”
Patrick's face heats up. “Thanks,” he manages, and then, feeling brave, “see you at the games?”
Steve grins at him, throwing his arm around Lucas' shoulders.
“You bet,” he says. “We’ll cheer extra loud for you both.”
Then they leave, walking over towards Buckley. Patrick watches as Steve pulls her up, the two of them laughing, and something wistful twists in his chest. He'd like Steve to laugh that easily around him.
No matter. It's unlikely they'll get a chance to talk again.
Still, today has been... nice.
He picks up a basketball, turning back to the hoop. He tries to push the feeling of Steve's hand on his arm from his mind.
(read on ao3)
