Built For Almost

It was late when Zay stirred again, still sitting near Neil in the quiet room, the hum of the heater barely noticeable beneath the pulse in his ears. Neil hadn't moved far-just shifted to lean against the edge of the bed frame, eyes lowered, thoughtful. Still warm from everything they'd just shared, but something hung unspoken in the air.

Neil broke the silence first.
"That day... on the bleachers?" he asked quietly. "What did you mean?"

Zay blinked, caught off guard, lips parting like he hadn't expected to be called out on it. He looked away, the corner of his jaw tightening.
"You really wanna know?"

Neil's gaze didn't budge. "Yeah."

Zay exhaled-slow, heavy. His voice dropped lower, softer.

"It was the day they announced the starting lineup for the regional qualifiers. You were sitting alone after practice. Everyone else went to celebrate. I stayed behind to grab my water bottle, I think. That's what I told myself."

His mouth twisted slightly. "You looked like the whole world had just shifted under you."

Neil frowned. "I don't remember-"

"You had your head in your hands," Zay interrupted gently. "You kept squeezing your knee like it was already giving out. Like you knew something was wrong, but didn't want to believe it."

Neil swallowed.

"I stood behind the bleachers for a minute. I don't know why I didn't say anything. Maybe I was waiting for you to leave. Maybe I was trying to convince myself that you weren't falling apart."
He laughed bitterly. "But then you looked up."

Zay's voice changed. Softer now. Like memory made it tender.

"You looked around, like you were searching for someone-anyone-and then for half a second, your eyes landed on me."
He paused. "And I swear to god, Neil... no one's ever looked at me like that. Like you needed someone to see you. Not as the fast guy or the tough one, just-"
He looked over, meeting Neil's gaze head-on. "Like you needed to be understood."

Neil's throat was tight. He didn't remember the specifics of that moment-but he remembered how it felt. The sting of doubt. The ache in his knee. The quiet desperation of not knowing who he was if he couldn't run.

"I didn't think anyone saw me that day," Neil whispered.

"I did," Zay said. No hesitation. "I did, and I never forgot it."

Neil turned toward him slowly, expression unreadable.

Zay's hand rested loosely between them on the mattress, close but not quite touching. "I kept watching you after that. Quietly. When you smiled when you didn't mean it. When you limped but pretended it was nothing. You didn't let anyone in."

Neil's voice was barely there. "You were watching?"

"I always was."

Silence. Then-delicate and slow-Neil reached over and placed his hand over Zay's, fingers curling lightly.

The contact was nothing loud. Nothing certain. But it was something.

Zay didn't pull away.

Neil met his eyes, and for once, there was no armor between them. Just that same quiet ache Zay had seen on the bleachers all those months ago-only this time, it was mirrored.

"I don't know how to let someone in," Neil admitted.

"You just did," Zay replied, smiling softly.