maritime boys
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Sid was winning. He had won. The adrenaline of holding the Stanley Cup over his head and the rush of kissing Andy tasted the exact same. All those looks, those touches, those years of Andy counting his heartbeat and showing him how to cook a chicken breast and naming all the bones in Sid’s body, all those quiet moments where they sat pressed up against each other and didn’t say anything at all were building to this victorious moment where they could finally have each other.
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- Part 1 of maritime boys
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Andy shrugged. “It’s not that. And you should stay. But we should talk. Sid and I—”
It was him saying Sid and I that did it. Andy said Sid and I, and it didn’t just dawn on Nate that Andy and Sid were fucking: moreso the realization slammed into him like a truck doing one-twenty down the highway.
“You’re fucking,” he said, like an idiot.
“Yeah, I mean, we’re married, so,” Andy replied. “I guess, yeah. We’re fucking.”
Series
- Part 2 of maritime boys
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Author commentary for Say When.
Andy shrugged. “It’s not that. And you should stay. But we should talk. Sid and I—”It was him saying Sid and I that did it. Andy said Sid and I, and it didn’t just dawn on Nate that Andy and Sid were fucking: moreso the realization slammed into him like a truck doing one-twenty down the highway.
“You’re fucking,” he said, like an idiot.
“Yeah, I mean, we’re married, so,” Andy replied. “I guess, yeah. We’re fucking.”
Series
- Part 3 of maritime boys