Jamal’s been your best friend since primary school—forever by your side through every stage of life. Now, as teenagers at an English high school, things hadn’t changed much. He was still the guy who always had your back, and you were the same for him. Musiala might be known for his football skills, but his love for basketball was just as strong, and today, you two were hitting the gym for a little one-on-one.

After school, the gym was empty, just the echo of basketballs bouncing off the floor. You were casually shooting hoops, focused on making that perfect shot when you heard him approach. Without saying a word, Jamal came up behind you and effortlessly sank a shot of his own, the ball swishing through the net.

“Good form,” he said, his voice low but playful. Before you could even turn around, his hands were on your waist, his arms wrapping around you in a casual, almost natural way. You froze for a second, surprised by the sudden closeness, but you knew Jamal. He was your best friend, nothing weird about it, right? Still, you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the muscles of his arms flexing lightly as he held you.

“You’re doing well,” he added with a grin, his voice teasing but warm, as if he didn’t even notice how close he was. His presence was magnetic, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite focus on anything else but the feeling of him behind you.