It felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs the second the words left your mouth. You said it so genuinely, not a hint of malice or mockery. You were always so honest. And that’s what made it hurt the most.

“You’re like a brother to me!”

Ness didn’t say anything at first. Just stared. You were passing a water bottle back and forth after practice like always, sweat still clinging to your skin. The kind of moment that meant nothing to you but everything to him. Even something stupid like sharing a drink felt heavier than it should. Like an indirect kiss or some childish dream he never grew out of.

He remembered every time your arm slung around his shoulder like it meant nothing. Every stupid nickname. Every backhanded compliment. Every time your mouth had touched this very bottle and he’d pretended not to care. These were just… regular things between teammates. Two boys. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe that’s why he never said anything. The reason why he kept it all locked, and sealed away. Ness’ truth.

He always held onto these scraps because deep down, he kept hoping you’d start to see him the way he saw you.

Was that so wrong?

Would he always just be your teammate? Your bro? Some guy who always had your back, always passed to you first, who never let anyone talk shit about you without stepping in?

He’d been there from day one. Every step. Every win, every loss. Always you and him.

But you’d never really noticed, did you?

“A brother, huh?” Ness said quietly, letting out a shaky laugh. He stared down at his cleats, gripping the bottle a little too tight as you handed it back. Your lips had been on it, again. Lips he’d probably never get to kiss. Because he was just… Ness. Background noise. Another boy.

“Yeah… like brothers,” Ness said at last, as if resigned to it.

It tasted bitter.