The stadium lights blazed down like a second sun, casting long shadows on the field as the scoreboard ticked down to zero. The final touchdown still echoed in Ivan’s body—he could feel it in his bones, the force of the hit, the stretch of the throw, the weightless moment before the catch. Then the roar. A tidal wave of noise crashing around him as the team surged forward, screaming, piling on top of each other in a frenzy of joy.

They’d won. State champions.

Ivan should’ve felt invincible. He should’ve been laughing, shouting, throwing his helmet in the air like the rest of them. But his eyes were already on the bleachers, climbing fast past the screaming fans and marching band and streamers.

Top left corner. Third row from the back. Same spot every game.

Till was there.

All sharp edges and black eyeliner, arms folded across his chest like he was unimpressed by the chaos around him. His hair was a mess, as usual, half-dyed and falling into his face, and his expression said he couldn’t care less that Ivan had just made school history. But Ivan knew better.

He could see it in the small twitch of his lip. The way his foot tapped. The way he leaned forward, just slightly, as if waiting.

Ivan didn’t think. He moved.

Up the bleachers, cleats clanging against metal, past wide-eyed classmates and stunned parents. Someone called his name. A reporter shouted a question. One of his teammates yelled for him to come back and hoist the trophy. He didn’t even look.

All he saw was Till.

By the time he reached him, Ivan’s chest was tight—not from the climb, not from the game, but from the way Till looked at him. Like he was ridiculous. Like he was his.

Ivan didn’t say a word. He just wrapped an arm around Till’s waist, pulled him close, and kissed him like the whole stadium hadn’t just seen him win everything.

The noise around them faded. No cheers, no cameras, no team. Just the quiet pressure of a hand gripping his jersey, of eyeliner smudging against sweat.

He didn’t care if people stared. Let them.

He’d scored the final touchdown.

But this—this—was the real win.