Shattered Bonds

EPISODE 26

It's been a week since school resumed, and Tristan had only managed to speak with Drake that one time when they met in the corridor near the men's restroom. After that day, their paths never crossed again—until now.

Practice was intense, as always, especially with their coach around. The team was training hard for the upcoming tournament, pushing themselves to their limits. After practice, the team hit the showers. Tristan, however, couldn't resist sneaking into Drake's shower, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

Drake tensed at first but relaxed when he realized who it was. "Tristan… what are you doing?" he asked, his voice soft yet uncertain.

Tristan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he placed light, lingering kisses on Drake’s wet, delicate skin, trailing from his shoulder up to his neck. "Your body is beautiful," he murmured against his skin.

Drake turned around to face him, lips parted as if to say something, but Tristan crashed his lips against his in a fierce, hungry kiss. Drake couldn’t deny it—he had missed Tristan. He had missed this. And so, he kissed him back, pouring weeks of longing into it. Their bodies pressed together, heat radiating between them, but just as Tristan deepened the kiss, he forced himself to pull away. If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t be able to.

Tristan hugged him tightly, as if afraid to let go, but Drake, suddenly realizing what was happening, gently pulled away. His eyes searched Tristan’s, a mixture of frustration and pain evident in them.

"What am I to you, Tristan?" Drake asked, his voice low but firm. "A plaything? Someone you can just kiss when you feel like it and then ghost afterward?"

Tristan’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Drake let out a shaky breath. "If you aren't sure of your feelings, if you don't know what you want, then please... don't do this again. I can pretend none of this ever happened. We can go back to being friends. But please, don’t make me feel cheap and worthless. I deserve better than that."

He didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked away, leaving Tristan standing there, the sound of the shower drowning out his own conflicted thoughts.

---

Walking out of the school building, Drake spotted Jersey sitting in his car, waiting for him. He quickened his pace and slid into the passenger seat.

"I thought you left," Drake said, throwing his bag in the backseat.

Jersey grinned. "And leave you stranded? No way. I knew you didn’t bring your car today. Besides, what kind of best friend would I be if I ditched you?"

Drake sighed and leaned back against the seat, rubbing his face. Jersey raised an eyebrow. "Rough practice?"

"More like a rough encounter," Drake muttered.

Jersey smirked. "Oh? Do tell."

Drake hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "It was Tristan… in the shower. He hugged me from behind, kissed me, and—" He exhaled sharply. "I kissed him back."

Jersey whistled. "Damn, that’s hot."

Drake shot him a glare. "Jersey, I’m serious. It wasn’t just some casual thing. Right now, I feel like... like I’m just a hookup to him, a plaything."

Jersey’s playful smirk faded. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him if he doesn’t know what he wants, then we should just stay friends. That I refuse to be used or feel worthless."

Jersey nodded approvingly. "Good. You did the right thing. If Tristan can’t figure out his own damn feelings, then you shouldn’t be the one suffering for it. But be honest with me, Drake—can you really just be his friend?"

Drake swallowed hard. "Do I have a choice, Jay?" He let out a bitter laugh. "Rather than being used, I’d rather stay his friend and keep my feelings to myself."

Jersey looked at him for a moment before sighing. "You’re stronger than you think, but I know this isn’t easy. Just… don’t lose yourself in trying to hold onto something that isn’t fully yours yet."

---

Meanwhile, Tristan couldn't get Drake’s words out of his head. Every sentence echoed in his mind, burning into his thoughts.

Why was it so difficult to just confess? To just tell Drake that he was in love with him? It wasn’t that hard—so why couldn’t he say it?

Frustrated, he got into his car and drove home, only to find Nathan waiting for him at the house.

"Where are my parents?" Tristan asked as he walked inside.

"They went out. Should be back soon," Nathan replied.

Tristan nodded and motioned for Nathan to follow him upstairs. Once they were in his room, Nathan started pacing back and forth, clearly anxious.

Tristan frowned. "Nathan, just say it. You’re making me nervous."

Nathan let out a sharp breath. "I don’t know how or when it happened, but... I’m in love with you."

Tristan froze, staring at Nathan as if he had grown two heads. "Wait… what?" His heart pounded. "Nate, what do you mean you’re in love with me? Dude, we’re best friends. How—how can you be in love with me?"

Nathan looked away, jaw clenched. "I don’t know, Tristan. I just... I am. It hit me like a goddamn truck, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it won’t go away."

Tristan sat down on his bed, rubbing his temples. "I don’t understand... When did this happen?"

Nathan let out a humorless laugh. "I don’t even know. Maybe I always felt this way, but it only became clear when I saw you with Drake. At first, I thought I was just jealous because I felt like he was replacing me in your life. But even after we went back to how we used to be, I still felt jealous whenever you talked about him."

Tristan opened his mouth, but Nathan shook his head. "Before you say anything—I know this sounds crazy. But keeping it in was driving me insane. So I had to tell you."

Nathan turned toward the door. "I’ll get going."

Before Tristan could stop him, Nathan walked out, leaving him rooted to the spot, completely overwhelmed and not knowing what to do next.