“Thanks, dude.” Arya hung up on him before he could even say bye.
Farzan made himself scrambled eggs while he waited for his tea to steep, and texted people he knew: other queer folks on the sub circuit, friendly acquaintances, even Spencer from Shiraz Bistro. Everyone was either busy or uninterested or a KU grad.
“Fuck,” he muttered, scooping his eggs onto his plate. He’d burned them a bit while texting, but whatever. There was still one person he could try, but he hesitated. It was kind of a big ask on a Saturday morning, especially for someone who kept the same hours as Farzan.
Then again, they were friends, right? And it was a casual, friendly thing to do, filling a hole in the roster. (Farzan chuckled to himself:filling a hole.) But after all, David said he wanted them to be friends. The fucking was just a bonus part. And friends helped each other out.
He finally texted.
Farzan
Good morning!
I have a weird favor to ask
twenty-four
David
David hadn’t been to Loose Park in years.
When he was a teenager, with a fresh driver’s license, he’d bring his grandma and stroll the path with her, taking in the trees and the sun and the “young folks canoodling,” as she liked to say. Right before elbowing him and asking when he was going to get a girlfriend.
The area hadn’t changed much: a few new houses had sprung up, and they’d redone the parking lot, but it was almost a relief to see it looked more or less the same as it had when he was a child.
He spotted Farzan waiting for him at the gate.
“Hey!” Farzan gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
“No problem. It sounds like fun.”
“You’re just saying that because I wore those shorts you were so interested in.” Farzan gestured to his pair of black athletic shorts which, sure enough, were nice and short, barely hitting midthigh. He wore them beneath a white raglan with green sleeves, with KC Lions over the heart.
Farzan handed over a matching raglan; David was already wearing his own shorts, but they were longer and looser, more for lounging around the house in the summer than for playing an actual game.
“Thanks.” David pulled off his white T-shirt and pulled the raglan on; when he stuck his head through, he caught Farzan staring at his chest and gave him a wicked grin.
Farzan just shrugged. “I’m allowed to enjoy the show, too.”
“You’re a menace.”
“Come on,” Farzan said with a laugh. He turned to lead David toward the field, and damn, David’s imagination hadn’t done the sight of Farzan’s ass in athletic shorts justice.
He wanted to tackle him right there, but this was kickball, not rugby, and also, there were still kids on the playground. It was one of those perfect October days: the sun gently warming him, a light breeze cooling him, the sky a rich blue and stacked with fluffy white clouds so tall they looked like they reached all the way to outer space.
He’d originally planned to spend the morning on his back patio, enjoying the weather and going through his Italian wine regions again. In fact, he’d been sorting out his note cards when he got Farzan’s text. Even though he knew he needed to study, and even though he hadn’t played kickball since fifth grade, the thought of getting out into the sun and seeing Farzan again had won out.
“Hey, everyone. This is David.”
David gave a little wave. Farzan ran through the rest of the team—David forgot nearly everyone as soon as they were introduced—but he did clock Farzan’s friend Arya, stringy and brown-skinned and bald.
“Nice to meet you,” Arya said, shaking David’s hand. “Thanks for filling in.”
“Glad to do it.”
As David stepped away, Arya said to Farzan, loud enough for everyone to hear: “You’re right, he is hot.”
David’s dark skin didn’t show a blush easily, but Farzan’s did. Davidgrinned when Farzan met his eye, his cheeks turning rosy. But then Farzan’s eyes went past David and he waved.
