It hadn't been the smooth-sailing Will had prayed for in the morning. Gabriel had woken him early, reminding him about morning class. Will, blissfully dozing, had happily told him he wasn't going and wanted to cuddle instead. Gabriel replied that he had work. Will was disappointed when Gabriel got into the shower instead of back into bed. Awake, he stared at the ceiling as last night slowly came back to him. The failed date at the bar. The awkwardness in the bedroom. Will trying to leave when Gabriel said he didn't want to have sex.

Will covered his face.

Why?

Why had he even wanted to go?

When was he not thrilled to spend any second he could curled up next to Gabriel? Why had he assumed he had to leave, because they weren't having sex? Maybe because the usual routine was to pass out after sex, drunk him thought that since that wasn't happening, he wasn't supposed to stay the night? Will frowned. Even for him, that was a stretch. He was academically challenged, not outright dumb. Though last night challenged that line of thinking...

Will lay in bed, watching Gabriel move around the room getting ready. From the pensive expression on Gabriel's face, clearly last night wasn't water under the bridge. It was on his mind. Probably the same way it was on Will's. He sat up, drawing the sheets around himself. "I'm sorry,"

Gabriel was buttoning up his shirt at this point. He took the time to finish them before sitting next to Will. His dark eyes were steady when they finally settled on Will. "Did you say that just to upset me?"

Will hated the curling in his stomach. "No." He said honestly. "As soon as I thought it through I realised of course that was upsetting, but I didn't say it with that intention." Just the thought that Gabriel was having to consider if Will had purposefully tried to provoke him for saying no to sex hurt. He bit his lip. "Really, no. I wasn't thinking."

Gabriel seemed apprehensive. "Will... I'm not okay with what happened last night. I'm not okay with you going to sleep with Dune, whether it was to hurt me or not. And I know you don't mean sex, but even sleeping in the same bed." He rubbed his eyes. "It isn't that you're both gay, it's all of it. You used to be intimate with him, and he liked you a lot. If I was sleeping in the same bed of an ex I was still friends with, or even a friend I just made out with a few times, you wouldn't be happy with me. And you'd be right not to."

Will's heart beat fast. He wished this wasn't a conversation they had to have at all. He understood why Gabriel wasn't happy. But just the idea of taking a step back from Dune, one of the only people in his life that he was close to and cared about, clogged his throat. It must have shown, because Gabriel started talking again.

"I'm not saying don't be friends with him," Gabriel sighed, "But I don't think I'm being unreasonable asking for you not to sleep with him either."

"It isn't unreasonable," Will agreed. It was like dragging himself through wet cement to admit it. "I won't sleep with him. But," Will couldn't stop himself, he couldn't throw the tether away completely, "there is a couch at his house. That's fine, right?"

Gabriel's expression said, no. But he nodded, jerky. "I'd better get going before I'm late." He stood, "I'll see you Saturday?"

Another apology was stuck in Will's throat. He caught Gabriel's hand, feeling the rough scars covering his knuckles, and the hardened callouses inside his palm. Will felt too young all of sudden. Too young for a relationship. Too young to know how to compromise. Too young to respond to Gabriel from level ground. Gabriel knew what he was doing, he knew what he wanted, while Will had no idea.

Will felt like he was just doing his best to guess what it was that would make him happy, and he didn't actually know. Loose tethers were holding Will together—Dune, Cassie, Gabriel, volleyball... college classes were cut loose already, home had died when his mom left.

Gabriel bent over him, kissing the crown of his head. His fingers brushed through Will's hair, gentle against his head. Warm shivers moved over his skin, and Will was grounded into his body, not his head.

"I'll going to call later." Gabriel told him softly. "Don't worry, okay? It's only something small."

Will pressed his lips together. Did he mean it was a small matter to Gabriel? A small blip in their relationship? Because keeping Dune close wasn't a small matter to Will. It was the opposite.

*

Will helped Vinny all day at the gym. He went in the morning for a place to practice Volleyball, but ended up getting roped into every sport that could be played indoors. That was everything, bar rugby. Vinny had told Will that rugby wasn't allowed anyway, because of the high-injury risk in the tackles.

Once Coach spotted Will hanging around he was sent to do drills—fine-tuning his serves into a weapon. The kids on the other side of the net were technically there to try receive them, but with the exception of Vinny it was more like a game of dodge-ball. Two of the kids ended up splayed out when they tried to dodge in the same direction and collided.

"It really is a weapon." Michael remarked.

Will took a second to catch his breath, and glanced at his polyglot teammate. He had on trakkies and a hoodie. "You have training today?"

"Vinny put a video of you bullying the kids with your serves into the group chat." Michael reported happily. "I'm here to defend them."

Will played along, "You can try."

Michael was the best at receiving Will's serves, but that didn't mean he was particularly good at it. Not yet, at least.

Michael joined Vinny on the other side of the net, and then Coach joined them as well. Will raised an eyebrow at the arrangement. By far, these three were the best receivers on the team—Coach was better than all of them as a general rule—and now they were all against him? The kids were all at the sidelines to watch.

"Let's see those left hand-serves." Coach called.

"Yes sir." Since he'd punched the door with his his right hand last night, left hand suited him fine. Will tallied the amount of classes he'd miss if he took the rest of the week off college. Given that it was Monday, the answer was all of them. He just... didn't feel like it.

"Heads up.!"

Will did the dumb thing, and turned toward the voice. The ball him him head on, and flew away like a missile. "Ow." He muttered, cupping his face.

"The kiddies get their revenge." Michael called as he trotted over with Vinny.

A basketball to the face hurt a lot more than a volleyball.

"You need an ice-pack?" Vinny asked.

Will's nose ached. "Maybe," he said. It had caught him badly, just over one of his eyes. Michael sat with him while Vinny continued instructing the younger volleyball team, and Coach disappeared to talk with a few men in suits. The basketball kid even came over to apologise.

It was Will's own fault for spacing out.

"Want to get lunch with me?" Michael asked him.

"Sure." Will was outside, already getting into his car, when he remember that he couldn't. "Ah, I have a meeting with someone actually. I can drop you into town though?"

Michael shook his head. "I'm good, see you at training tomorrow."

Will dropped the ice-pack onto the seat next to him, checking how red his face was in the mirror. It wasn't so bad.

*

Kyle was late, and Will ended up going in on his own to meet piano girl. She greeted him with a warm smile.

"Hi, PG," Will hesitated to call her what Kyle and Stephen had. It didn't feel quite right. "Not sure if you remember me but I was visiting with Kyle and Stephen the other day."

"I remember." PG said in that tiny voice of hers. "You play for the National team."

"Yeah, that's right."

"I play for the Nation too."

"Kyle was telling me your really good," Will said, "you compose as well."

"It's fun."

Will's gaze was drawn to the drips next to the bed. He wondered how long she'd be in the clinic? She'd tried to kill herself so many times, but she just seemed... normal. Will cringed at his own assessment. Why was he even looking for things that showed she wasn't normal? That she wanted to die? Just hearing how many times she'd tried made him feel a little sick.

"What are you going to do when you grow up?" PG asked him.

Will winced. Bad topic. "I don't know."

"But you play for the National team?"

Will shrugged. "I'll play for as long as I can. Aside from that, I have no idea."

"Me too." PG said.

Will looked at the half-open door just so that he didn't have to keep looking at the drips.

"You're very pale." PG observed.

Will swallowed.

"It's okay if I'm bothering you, you can wait for Kyle out in the lobby."

"You aren't bothering me."

"The idea of it then? The thought?" PG asked him.

Will had to look at her then. It was curiosity on her face, not hurt or pain or anything with malice. Was it just an act? Could she talk about what she'd tried to do so easily? As if it didn't matter at all? He reminded himself that PG wasn't as young as she looked, and that they were the same age.

"Sorry. It's the thought of it." Will admitted. PG seemed aware of his discomfort already.

"Stephen used to get very uncomfortable as well." PG said, "Not really the first time, but the second time. I couldn't hurt my wrists—I need them for playing piano—so I hurt my legs."

Will felt the blood drain from his face.

"You couldn't do it though," She said.

"No," Will agreed, weakly.

"You need your wrists and your legs for volleyball."

Will closed his eyes, tilted his head down. He really was feeling faint. All he could repeat to himself was don't imagine it don't imagine it don't imagine it. All he ended up thinking, was if you really intended to die, would it matter if you couldn't go back to your old life? Wasn't that the point?

"What's wrong with you?" Kyle asked.

Will was relieved to hear that sharp voice. Kyle brought PG her keyboard and then sat on the end of the bed. He stared at Will. "You're pale."

"I'm okay." Will answered.

Instead of talking, PG played music. Maybe that's why the first thing Kyle did was give her the keyboard? So she wouldn't talk. Will was only half-present for the meeting, and Kyle looked really annoyed with him when Will finally left. Will was feeling too queasy to care all that much.

As soon as he got into the fresh city air filled with exhaust fumes, he reached for his phone. Gabriel said he would call later, but Will wanted to talk to him now. He wanted to hear his voice. Just for a second. Just so he could breathe.

Will couldn't find his phone.