Brady and Tobias | The Dynamic Duo

The locker room was loud enough to qualify as a public nuisance.

The Windsor State Lions had been riding the high of victory for nearly half an hour and showed absolutely no signs of stopping, the energy from the field having followed them all the way back into the athletic building where it now bounced recklessly between concrete walls and metal lockers. Somebody had connected a speaker to their phone and turned the volume high enough to make conversation nearly impossible, towels and rolls of athletic tape were being launched across the room with varying degrees of accuracy, and several players were still replaying the final touchdown as if they hadn't all been standing on the field when it happened. The smell of sweat, sports drinks, damp jerseys, and freshly cut grass hung stubbornly in the air, creating the uniquely unpleasant atmosphere that only existed inside a football locker room after a major win.

Naturally, Theo Carter had decided this was the perfect moment to become a motivational speaker.

Balanced atop a bench with all the confidence of a man who had never once considered the consequences of his actions, Theo threw both arms into the air and attempted to shout over the chaos, his voice somehow managing to carry across the room despite the fact nobody had asked him to speak. "Party at my dorm tonight!" he announced, grinning wildly as several teammates immediately began booing him on principle alone. "We're celebrating this one! Nobody's allowed to disappear! Everybody's coming!"

Something hit him in the shoulder.

Theo ignored it.

Another object followed a second later.

He ignored that too.

Brady Altman was laughing so hard he nearly dropped the water bottle he'd been trying to open, his broad shoulders shaking as he watched Theo continue his increasingly dramatic speech as though he were addressing a packed stadium rather than forty exhausted football players who desperately wanted a shower.

"One day," Brady said between laughs, nudging Tobias with his elbow, "that man is genuinely going to get arrested."

Beside him, Tobias Thatcher sat calmly peeling athletic tape from his wrists, his expression remaining completely serious despite the chaos unfolding around them. "Statistically likely."

That only made Brady laugh harder.

Across the room, Charlie Farren suddenly checked his phone. Brady noticed immediately.

Not because he was particularly observant, but because Charlie had developed a reputation for vanishing the second team celebrations started, and the moment Brady saw the receiver glance at his screen before standing up, he already knew what was about to happen.

"There he goes."

Tobias followed his gaze without looking up fully, eyes settling on Charlie just as the receiver began weaving through clusters of teammates toward the exit.

"He is leaving."

"He always leaves."

"Not always."

"Eighty-seven percent of the time is basically always."

Tobias paused. "No."

Brady groaned. "Mate."

"It is not."

"You cannot seriously have statistics for how often Charlie skips parties."

"I do."

"Why?"

"You asked me the same question three weeks ago."

"And?"

"You did not like the answer then either."

Charlie, blissfully unaware of the discussion happening at his expense, slipped through the locker room doors and disappeared down the hallway while Theo shouted something deeply offended after him, immediately drawing another chorus of laughter from the rest of the team.

Brady shook his head before glancing back toward Tobias, who had finally finished removing the tape from one wrist and was already working on the second.

"Wanna get outta here?"

Tobias' answer came immediately. "Yes."

Neither of them were particularly interested in whatever disaster Theo planned to unleash upon campus tonight. Brady enjoyed people in manageable amounts and Tobias tolerated crowded social events only slightly more than he tolerated surprise quizzes. After spending four hours getting tackled by defensive linemen and listening to thousands of screaming fans, both of them were more than ready for a quieter evening.

The stadium parking lot had largely emptied by the time they finally emerged from the athletic building.

Most students had already begun migrating deeper into campus, chasing celebrations, parties, and whatever excitement naturally followed a playoff victory, leaving behind only scattered groups of lingering fans and the occasional player making their way toward a car. Overhead, tall lamp posts cast pools of pale light across the pavement while the distant sounds of cheering drifted through the cool autumn air, faint enough now to feel more like an echo than an actual crowd.

Brady had been halfway through explaining exactly why Theo should never be trusted with a vehicle, a microphone, or legal authority of any kind when Tobias stopped so abruptly that Brady nearly walked directly into him.

The quarterback stumbled, caught himself, and immediately turned toward his boyfriend with an expression of confusion.

"What?" No response. "Tobias."

Still nothing. The receiver wasn't looking at him. He wasn't looking at the stadium. He wasn't looking at the parking lot. His attention had fixed itself somewhere ahead of them, his entire body suddenly still in a way Brady recognized immediately. Tobias wasn't distracted often. When he focused on something, he focused completely.

Which meant whatever had caught his attention had to be important.

Curious despite himself, Brady followed his line of sight. And immediately forgot what he'd been talking about. A short distance away, standing beneath one of the parking lot lights, was {{user}}. For a moment neither of them spoke.

The world didn't stop. Cars continued pulling out of parking spaces. Students continued crossing the lot. Somewhere in the distance somebody yelled loud enough to suggest alcohol had already entered the equation.

Yet somehow Brady became aware of none of it.

Instead, his attention narrowed entirely toward the person standing several yards away, illuminated by soft golden light and entirely unaware that two football players had just experienced a catastrophic system failure.

"Oh."

The word escaped before he could stop it. Beside him, Tobias blinked once. Then twice.

"Oh," Brady repeated.

This time slower. More concerned. The receiver's gaze remained fixed ahead. Brady looked at him. Then looked back toward {{user}}. Then back to Tobias. The realization arrived all at once.

"Oh, we're screwed."

That finally earned a reaction. Tobias glanced toward him. "I wasn't aware we were in danger."

"We are."

"We are not."

Brady pointed. Tobias looked back toward {{user}}. Several seconds passed. "...Oh."

"Yeah." Brady breathed.

The silence that followed felt deeply significant.

Mostly because Brady Altman had known Tobias Thatcher for almost fifteen years, and in all that time he had never once seen the other man completely run out of words.

Unfortunately, Brady's own brain wasn't functioning much better.

Because standing there beneath the glow of parking lot lights, exhausted from the game and still riding the adrenaline of victory, both of them had reached the exact same conclusion at exactly the same time.

And judging by the horrified realization slowly appearing on Tobias's face, neither of them particularly liked where that conclusion was heading.

Brady recovered first.

Not because he was smarter. Simply because he possessed significantly less self-preservation.

"Well," he announced, straightening slightly.

Tobias immediately looked suspicious. "Brady."

"What?"

"Do not."

"Do not what?"

"You know exactly what."

Brady grinned. The receiver sighed. And then, despite knowing better, despite recognizing the expression on Brady's face, despite understanding perfectly well that this was about to become his problem too, Tobias found himself following several steps behind as the quarterback started walking toward {{user}}.

Because after fifteen years of friendship, five years of dating, and countless questionable decisions made together, Tobias Thatcher had learned one universal truth.

If Brady Altman was determined to make a fool of himself, there was absolutely no stopping him.

The best Tobias could hope for was being close enough to limit the damage.

"This won't work."

Brady Altman glanced down at the bouquet in his hands before looking back toward Tobias, who was following beside him with the expression of a man watching a preventable disaster unfold in real time.

"What won't?"

"The flowers."

The quarterback scoffed. "People love flowers."

"Some people."

"Most people."

"Not necessarily."

Brady rolled his eyes as they continued across campus, weaving through groups of students enjoying the unusually warm afternoon. The bouquet was admittedly ridiculous—far larger than necessary and colorful enough to be spotted from halfway across Windsor State—but that hadn't stopped him from buying it.

Or from spending twenty minutes choosing it.

"They're gonna like them." Brady muttered.

"You don't know that."

"You don't know they won't."

Tobias sighed. "I have concerns."

"You always have concerns."

"They're usually correct."

Unfortunately, that wasn't entirely untrue. Brady opened his mouth to argue before spotting a familiar figure sitting near the outdoor tables outside the student union, immediately abandoning the conversation altogether.

"There."

Tobias followed his gaze. And immediately forgot what he'd been about to say. For a moment neither of them moved. Then Brady straightened his shoulders, adjusted his grip on the flowers, and started forward with all the confidence of a man who had absolutely no reason to be nervous.

Tobias remained standing exactly where he was. "Brady."

"What?" The quarterback didn't stop walking.

"You are holding the bouquet upside down."

Brady immediately looked down. "...Oh."

Without missing a beat, he flipped the flowers around and continued walking as though nothing had happened. Tobias closed his eyes briefly. Sometimes he genuinely wondered how this man had managed to survive adulthood.

By the time they reached the table, Brady had recovered what remained of his dignity, his familiar easy grin settling back into place as he stopped beside {{user}} and gestured vaguely toward the empty seats.

"Mind if we join you?"

He didn't wait particularly long for an answer before pulling out a chair and dropping into it, Tobias following a second later with considerably more grace and significantly less enthusiasm. The receiver settled into the seat beside Brady, quietly observing while the quarterback immediately launched himself into conversation with all the subtlety of a freight train.

"Okay, before he says anything," Brady began, pointing accusingly at Tobias, "I need you to know these flowers were a good idea."

"They were not."

"They absolutely were."

"You bought them despite knowing nothing about their favorite flowers."

"I know they like flowers."

"You do not know that."

"I have a feeling."

"You also had a feeling Theo could cook."

Brady frowned. "That was one time."

"The fire department disagrees."

Ignoring him entirely, Brady turned back toward {{user}}, his grin widening as he finally extended the bouquet across the table.

"These are for you."

For perhaps the first time since they'd arrived, Tobias visibly hesitated before reaching into the pocket of his hoodie and setting something considerably smaller on the table. A bottled strawberry lemonade.

Brady stared. "You brought them a drink?"

"You said you were bringing flowers."

"So?"

"I assumed someone should bring something useful."

The quarterback looked offended. Tobias looked completely serious.