Chapter Seven

Once upon a time, Noah had promised himself that if he didn’t get closure with Ellery, he’d be a mess on the basketball court, completely distracted and unable to think about anything but the one who "got away." He was so sure of it that he swore he’d never let things get to that point. And yet, here he is now, scrambling to keep his focus on the ball, his mind constantly drifting to Ellery. His worst fear has come true. He invited Ellery to the game, and somewhere in the sea of the Wolf Pack crowd, Ellery is supposed to be watching. But Noah can't spot him anywhere.

What if he isn’t even here? What if Ellery ditched Noah's invite for Megan’s party instead?

“Schneider!!” Coach Brett’s shout cuts through the noise, snapping Noah back to reality. It's the kind of shout that Noah rarely hears directed at him—usually reserved for the players who don’t take the game seriously. But today, it’s aimed at him, and with a frustrated curse under his breath, Noah forces his eyes to follow the ball, jogging back toward their goal as the Bulldogs claim possession yet again.

Ellery’s here. He has to be. He took one of the tickets Noah reserved for his family, and now he’s probably watching Noah mess up, stumbling through the game, his focus shattered. It’s a cruel paradox. Noah wants Ellery to see him play—to see him at his best, dominating the court—but instead, he's stuck in this loop, his mind fixated on finding Ellery in the stands. Every fumble, every missed opportunity feels like it’s unfolding in front of Ellery’s eyes.

“Shit!” Noah nearly misses a pass, only to hear a teammate’s voice cut through the chaos: “Noah!”

Just in time, he catches the ball, and with no defender on him, he spins and launches a three-pointer from the perimeter. The ball arcs perfectly, swishing through the net as the Wolf Pack erupts in wild cheers. At least he hasn’t completely tanked the game.

Ward, his teammate and one of his closest friends on the team, claps him on the back, offering an “Attaboy,” before wiping the sweat from his flushed face with the hem of his jersey. The guy looks like he’s been put through a wringer, hair matted, breathing heavy.

Noah’s screwing up, and everyone knows it. His teammates are picking up his slack. Ward—a stretch four, of all people—had to cover for him. That’s the breaking point for Noah. With a surge of frustration, he throws himself back into the game with renewed intensity. His focus sharpens, but it’s driven by anger now, not strategy. He blocks layups with aggression, intercepts passes like he’s swatting away insults, and rips the ball from the Bulldogs with ferocity. The crowd feeds on it, their howls echoing in the gym, every successful play fueling Noah’s rage and redemption.

By the time the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, Noah has put up eleven three-pointers and single-handedly helped turn the tide. His teammates swarm him, a flurry of congratulatory slaps and praise, but Noah can barely register their voices. His mind is a blur of exhaustion and adrenaline as he shakes hands with the opposing team and follows the pack toward the locker room, numb to the roaring crowd.

Except for one voice.

“Noah! Noah!”

Noah turns, scanning the sea of hands and faces reaching out from the stands, and there, standing at the front of the crowd, is Ellery. His face is lit up with a beaming smile, his lips moving, but it’s too loud for Noah to hear him. Their eyes meet, and Noah mimics texting on a phone, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. Ellery nods in understanding.

Half an hour later, after the post-game wrap-up, Noah’s jogging toward the spot he texted Ellery to meet him—an alcove outside the gym, tucked away between two towering pillars where the cool night air cuts through the fading heat of the game. Noah didn’t bother putting on a hoodie over his jersey, despite knowing it’s risky to be out in the open, but he figured this spot was out of the way enough.

And there, under the blue flicker of the streetlights, is Ellery, bouncing lightly on his heels, dressed in a soft green hoodie that looks as comfortable as it is stylish. His sneakers are more for show than practicality, and yet they seem to complete him—just like everything else about him.

He’s perfect.

And he’s here for Noah. Not as his boyfriend, exactly, but as something.

Noah lets his pace slow as he approaches, the rush of adrenaline from the game giving way to a different kind of anticipation. He stops just short of Ellery, the space between them small, yet vast in a way that makes Noah’s chest tight.

“You came,” Noah says, breathless for more than one reason.

Ellery’s laugh is soft and warm. “Well, yeah,” he says, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You were… you were really amazing out there, Noah.”

Blush spreads across Noah’s back, his skin prickling with warmth as he awkwardly rubs his neck, trying to will it away. He notices Ellery’s eyes flicking to his bicep, and for a moment, pride flares in his chest. But just as quickly, it withers when he remembers how he had shut Ellery down earlier that day.

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a ride here,” Noah says, the apology heavy on his lips.

“Are you kidding?” Ellery waves it off, laughing softly. “Don’t worry about that. I feel like a jerk for even asking. No duh players have to get here super early. Dunno why I didn’t think of that.” He glances down at the toes of his shoes, then looks up at Noah through his bangs, his eyes playful. “But you’re not tryin’ to brush off my compliment, are you?”

Noah chuckles, and the sound is like a release. “Tryin’ to,” he admits, but Ellery’s grin in response is so dazzling, it feels like a reward.

“Seriously, though, you made all the difference tonight,” Ellery insists, his voice filled with admiration. “It’s almost like the rest of the team follows your gumption. And you’re way too modest about how good you are—either that, or I don’t know how to talk basketball as well as I think I can.”

“Nah.” Noah’s face is burning by now, and he knows if it gets any hotter, someone will probably see steam coming off him. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” Ellery replies, his voice softening as he adds, “I had a great time, even if I came alone.”

Noah’s heart stutters at the subtle implication, and he inches a little closer, drawing out a wide smile from Ellery. They’re alone. The soft shuffle of footsteps from the crowd has long since faded, leaving them in a pocket of quiet. No one else is around. It’s safe—safe to let his guard down, safe to speak low and close.

“Well… you’re not alone anymore, are you?” Noah’s voice is rougher than intended, laced with a confidence leftover from the court. He’s not even sure what he’s trying to suggest, what he expects Ellery to take from it, but it feels right. Ellery’s reaction—cheeks lifting in a coy, pleased smile—solidifies that feeling, and Noah straightens up a little more, his pulse quickening.

But Ellery’s always a step ahead of him, isn’t he? And when Ellery leans in just a touch and murmurs, “Do you always hit on guys after showing off those muscles…?” Noah’s insides tingle with that familiar thrill, the kind that only Ellery can spark.

“Only the cute ones,” Noah fires back, but it’s a lie, and they both know it. He’s never been this bold with anyone, not really. But Ellery’s patience is boundless—he reads the playful fib for what it is, accepting it with a roll of his eyes, the contented smile never leaving his lips.

Before Noah can say anything else, Ellery pulls back slightly and reaches into the half-open zipper of his hoodie, fishing for something. “Before you get too carried away, hot-shot, I wanted to give you this.” From within the folds of his hoodie, Ellery pulls out… a basketball jersey, NC State’s red and white, one of the kinds you can buy at any game. But Ellery seems to pay it no mind as he tosses it casually over his shoulder, continuing to rummage.

“That’s—” Noah starts, eyeing the jersey. “33.”

“Your number, yeah,” Ellery says with a soft nod, his eyes flicking up to meet Noah’s. There’s a brief hesitation, a flash of uncertainty before he adds, “I hope that’s not weird… or too much? Us aside, you really are a phenomenal player. No matter what happens… I wanna support you.”

The sentiment hits Noah like a truck. Ellery, walking around campus with his number on his back, representing him whether they work out or not. It’s a heady thought, one that stirs something deep inside him, warming his core. He can already picture it—Ellery showing up to classes, strolling around in Noah’s number, a public display that feels intensely personal. Noah feels a hitch in his breath as the weight of it settles over him, and he tries to play it cool.

“Uh huh. That’s… fine,” Noah manages to choke out, his voice a little too tight.

Ellery gives a small, knowing smile. “Too bad it doesn’t have your name on it, though,” he muses, half-shrugging. “I guess they don’t usually do that.” But before Noah can let his imagination run wild—Ellery walking around with his name across his back—Ellery pulls something else from his hoodie.

It’s a small, brown teddy bear.

Ellery holds it out to Noah with both hands, presenting it with a flourish, like it’s the grandest gift in the world. “Tah-dah!”

Noah blinks. He stares at the little bear, at its soft polyester fur glistening under the faint glow of the lights, at its tiny, sincere button eyes and the dark blue rings around them. There’s a tiny gingham bow tied neatly around its neck, and the whole thing radiates an almost painful level of sweetness.

“Y-You… you bought this for me?” Noah’s voice comes out in a whisper, like he can’t fully believe the gesture. The look on his face must be pretty amusing because Ellery snorts and lets out a soft laugh.

“Yeah! As a congrats for winning the game.”

Noah studies the bear in his hands, gingerly pressing its soft belly, still in awe. “They don’t sell these here, do they?”

Ellery grins. “Nope. I brought it with me.”

Noah squints, suspicion mingled with surprise. “You didn’t know we were gonna win.”

“I didn’t,” Ellery admits, his tone lighter than air.

Noah wiggles the plushie in the air. “So what would you have done with it if we’d lost?”

Ellery shrugs, the corners of his mouth pulling into a gentle, knowing smile. “Given it to you anyway.”

The sincerity in Ellery’s words makes Noah’s heart stumble in his chest. The thought that Ellery had planned on giving him the bear no matter what—win or lose—hits him harder than any buzzer-beater. It’s sweet, in the purest way Noah has ever experienced in his twenty-one years. And then Ellery looks up at him, that shy, inviting smile tugging at his lips, practically pleading for affection, and Noah’s realization slams him with an even more intense feeling.

Ellery doesn’t just need to be thanked. He needs to be appreciated. Cherished. His entire presence commands it, and Noah feels powerless to resist. His breath hitches in his throat, and his fingers grip the bear tighter as he takes one last look at it—almost like he’s using it to convince himself that this moment is real—before he inches closer, bridging the small gap between them.

Ellery tilts his head back, his eyes staying locked on Noah’s, fragile and unwavering. Noah can feel the heat between them rising, something thick and undeniable hanging in the air. They can’t break eye contact now, not after everything that’s led to this. It would be like breaking glass—impossible to fix.

“You’re really beggin’ for it, aren’t you, Brooks?” Noah’s voice comes out low and rough, his words laden with a boldness that even surprises him.

Ellery’s lips curl into a playful smile, his eyes flicking downward for a split second, drinking in the lines of Noah’s neck and chest beneath his jersey. “Depends. Is it working?”

Noah’s pulse surges in response, a wave of heat rushing through his veins as desire simmers just beneath the surface. He’s never wanted to touch someone more, never felt such a burning need to close the distance. With one hand still clutching the teddy bear, his other hand drifts upward, fingers brushing against Ellery’s jawline, feeling the soft skin beneath his thumb. His heart is thundering in his chest, the world narrowing down to just this moment, to Ellery.

This is it , Noah thinks, feeling the weight of what’s about to happen sink in. I’m gonna mean it.

But just as the air between them seems ready to combust, a loud voice shatters the moment like a sledgehammer against glass.

“Yo, Noah!”

Noah jerks back from Ellery like he’s been caught doing something wrong, his eyes flying wide as they snap toward the sound. Panic surges in his chest. Ward. His teammate is strolling over, oblivious to what he’s just interrupted, waving casually with his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

Noah’s entire body stiffens, heart racing for a completely different reason now. He feels a cold wave of dread wash over him—Ward saw them. There’s no way he didn’t. The tension, the closeness… everything. Noah’s palms tingle with nervous energy as he scrambles to think, to fix it somehow.

Without thinking, Noah thrusts the teddy bear back into Ellery’s hands, his voice suddenly too loud, too forced. “There’s the—yeah, good present for your little sister. I think she’ll like it.” His words hang awkwardly in the air, as if trying to force normalcy into a moment that had been anything but.

Ellery blinks in surprise, his fingers instinctively wrapping around the plushie as he looks up at Noah, confusion flickering across his face. But he doesn’t say anything.

Ward reaches them, his face scrunching in mild confusion as he looks between the two of them, clearly trying to piece together what he’s just walked in on. He points a finger between Noah and Ellery, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s this, Noah?”

Noah blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, his voice quick and flat. “Friend. We met at a party recently. He’s cool.” He gives an awkward nod, avoiding both of their eyes as his pulse hammers in his ears.

Ward cocks an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips like he’s not buying the explanation, but he’s not about to press it. “Okay… and does this ‘friend’ have a name, or…?”

Ellery steps in with a polite, albeit dimmed, smile. He tucks the teddy bear into his hoodie, zipping it up partially before extending a hand toward Ward. “I’m Ellery,” he introduces himself, but the sparkle that had danced in his eyes just minutes ago is gone now, replaced by something more guarded.

Ward grins, shaking his hand. “Ward Stevens. Nice to meet ya.”

Ellery nods, polite but distant now, a stark contrast from the warm, open Ellery Noah had been sharing moments with. “Amazing game, Ward,” he offers.

Ward beams at the compliment. “Aww, thanks, bud! Once this guy”—he jerks a thumb in Noah’s direction—“got into the swing of things, anyway.”

Noah feels their gazes land on him, but he can’t meet either of their eyes. His stomach twists in knots, guilt and shame bubbling up inside him, churning relentlessly. Fortuitously for him, Ward and Ellery waste no time making small talk about the evening.

“Is the coach upset about his new piercing?”

“No, not at all. He can’t wear it on the court because of the rules, but no one made a big deal about it. No drama, nothing like that.”

Everything had been going so well. Then Ward had appeared out of nowhere, and Noah had… just… completely lost it. All the confidence, all the momentum he’d built up had evaporated in an instant. And in that moment, he had abandoned Ellery—left him standing there, exposed, just to save face in front of someone who mattered to him even less. Ward didn’t notice, of course, but Noah could see it as clearly as if it were written across Ellery’s face: Ellery had pulled back. He wasn’t saying anything, but the way he shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting like he wanted to cross his arms and shrink away, said it all. But no, Ellery wasn’t going to make it obvious. He was going to be polite. Play the role Noah had forced him into when he panicked and set the precedent—acting like someone he wasn’t, just to keep up appearances in front of a third party.

Noah’s breathing was still uneven, chest tight with lingering panic. Coward. That’s what he was—a coward.

You were about to kiss him, you goddamn coward.

Ellery had come to the game. He’d brought a thoughtful gift, something that showed how much he cared, something with no strings attached. He was cute—adorable, even—and he clearly wanted this. He wanted Noah. And Noah wanted him, too. Anyone with eyes would want Ellery. Why did he care so much about what Ward, or anyone else for that matter, thought?

You want him. He’s yours if you just reach out. He’s literally wearing your number, for God’s sake.

Noah bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the pain sharp but not enough to satisfy the frustration and disgust roiling inside him. He straightened up, taking a deep breath before forcing himself to interrupt whatever conversation Ellery and Ward were having. Both of them turned to look at him, expectant. “We should get going,” Noah said, directing his words to Ellery, gesturing toward the parking lot.

Ward’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Got plans tonight?”

Ellery hesitated, his mouth opening as if to respond, but Noah spoke before he could. “We were studying together earlier. I’m his ride home, and it’s getting late. I’ve still got homework.”

“Ah, I gotcha. Well, y’all have a good night then! Nice meeting you, Ellery,” Ward said with a casual salute. As he left, he gave Noah a friendly pat on the shoulder. “See you at practice, man.”

“Yeah. Later.”

As soon as Ward was far enough away, little more than a fading figure in the parking lot, Noah turned to look at Ellery. His stare was hard, searching, but Ellery’s face remained neutral. Inscrutable. He had every right to be guarded. Noah had shattered the moment, broken whatever connection they’d had, and now the tension between them was thick, uncomfortable. If they parted ways now, there’d be no fixing this. Noah knew that. Apologies only got a person so far, and Noah had already used up his quota for the night.

Without saying anything, he fumbled through his bag, pulling out his truck keys. He nodded toward the remaining cars in the lot. “Will you come with me?”

Ellery frowned, clearly taken aback. “What? Where?”

“Just… please?” Noah held out his hand, hoping Ellery would understand, hoping he’d say yes.

Ellery stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, hesitant, before slowly placing his own hand in Noah’s. Noah didn’t waste a second. His fingers closed tightly around Ellery’s, and he led him quickly toward the truck. Ellery had to jog to keep up with Noah’s long strides, but he didn’t say a word of protest.

Once they reached the truck, Noah unlocked it and climbed in, throwing his bag onto the floor at Ellery’s feet. Ellery, ever considerate, placed the teddy bear—his gift—on top of the bag, making sure it wouldn’t tumble over. Noah started the engine, pulling out of the lot a little faster than was safe.

“My car’s here, Noah,” Ellery finally spoke, his voice soft, as he gazed out the window at the arena, his hand hovering near the glass.

“We’ll come back for it later.”

“What if it gets towed?”

“I’ll pay for it. Don’t worry about it. They’re not going to punish people who might’ve had to call an Uber, especially after a game.”

“Oh. Right,” Ellery said quietly, though his expression didn’t change.

The ride is silent, but tension hums through the air as Noah keeps his foot heavy on the gas. Even when there’s no rush, he drives like there is, the engine roaring louder than necessary every time a light turns green. The truck speeds past campus, whizzing by bars and cafes still brimming with life—students spilling onto sidewalks, flushed with the energy of alcohol and victory after the game. But Ellery remains quiet, hands folded neatly in his lap, staring out the window. If he’s unnerved by Noah’s erratic driving, he doesn’t show it. He’s probably thinking about something else, something much worse. About how he’s sitting here with Noah, a guy who can’t even own up to what he wants in front of a person who barely matters.

Noah knows it’s a mess, and that knowledge gnaws at him. His pulse pounds in his ears, but he keeps pushing forward because turning back isn’t an option.

It’s not until they turn onto Megan’s street that Ellery breaks the silence. “Megan’s?” His voice is even, but there’s a question in his tone. He knows. He knows exactly where they are.

Noah doesn’t respond right away, just pulls into a free spot along the street and cuts the engine. The lit windows of Megan’s apartment glimmer in the distance, faint music filtering down from one of them. “Do you think we’re too late?” Noah asks, leaning over to get a better look at the scene from Ellery’s side of the truck.

Ellery checks his phone and shrugs. “I doubt it. Noah, why are we—”

Before he can finish, Noah’s already out of the truck, slamming the door behind him, and rushing over to Ellery’s side. He pulls him out without a second thought, practically dragging him onto the sidewalk. Ellery stumbles but quickly recovers, his irritation melting into a bemused laugh. “What are we doing? I don’t have any money to pitch in for drinks! Do they even know we’re coming?” Ellery’s questions come in a steady stream as Noah pulls him toward the building and up the stairs two steps at a time.

By the time they reach the final landing, Noah isn’t hesitating. The door, which used to fill him with dread, opens without a second thought. He’s already leading the way inside, holding tightly onto Ellery’s wrist as they step into the crowded apartment.

The room is full of familiar faces: Sarah, Blanche, Megan, Gerald, and others scattered around, all mid-conversation, drinks in hand, moving between the living room and kitchen. At the sight of Noah and Ellery, the chatter halts. Every head turns, eyes widening in surprise, some of them clearly tickled by the unexpected appearance of the two. Noah lets his gaze sweep over the group, taking in the amused smiles, but his focus quickly narrows to one thing—Ellery.

Ellery’s smirking now, his expression amused but curious. The air between them thickens as the music continues to drift in from the kitchen, soft and lilting.

Ellery opens his mouth, probably to ask yet another question, but Noah doesn’t hear it. He can’t wait anymore. The second their eyes lock, something inside him snaps. He grabs Ellery by the waist, pulling him in close, and presses his lips against his, hot and urgent.

The room seems to freeze, the world outside slipping away as Noah loses himself in the kiss. His hand slides to cradle Ellery’s jaw, his thumb tracing the stubble along his cheek as the kiss deepens. Ellery hesitates for only a moment, his breath catching in surprise, before he melts into it, his lips parting as they move against Noah’s, tongues grazing as they taste each other. The heat between them is electric, searing, and Noah feels it down to his bones.

Then, a loud whoop pierces the air, shattering the silence. It’s followed by more cheers, laughter, and shouts of encouragement from the onlookers, their excitement filling the room as they witness the moment. Noah barely registers it. For once, he’s not concerned with who’s watching, with what anyone might say or think. All he cares about is Ellery. He wants to make it right. He wants to show Ellery that he’s ready, that he’s not going to hide anymore, no matter who’s around.

Ellery, for his part, isn’t pulling away. He’s kissing Noah back with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around Noah’s neck as he presses even closer. His breath hitches again, this time turning into a soft, private moan that only Noah can hear, sending a shiver down his spine.

The kiss is a declaration, more than words could ever be. It’s everything Noah hadn’t been able to say—everything he’d been too scared to admit to himself, let alone anyone else. But here, now, in front of all their friends, in front of people who care about them, who support them, Noah realizes that fear doesn’t matter. He wants this. He wants Ellery. And if he can’t do it in front of everyone just yet, at least he’s showing that he’s trying. He’s making an effort, letting go of the fear that’s held him back for so long.

The cheers don’t stop; they spread, crescendo, break into laughter, and damn, it’s infectious. Noah smiles into their kiss just before Ellery giggles into his mouth, lighting him up from within. Ellery tastes like raw, trembling freedom and pure acceptance, smells like everything Noah wants in his bed and in his life. He embodies forgiveness, patience, and everything good Noah had shoved far down in the hopes of suffocating… but now that part of him breathes deep, grateful.

“Fuck, is one of them going off to war or something?!” someone cries with a hooting guffaw, and Noah pulls away—just an inch, breathless—to search Ellery’s expression.

He’s flushed pink, those cyan eyes dazzled with wide pupils that look Noah’s face over in enamored delight. “Noah,” he says softly, immune to the party around them and belonging entirely to the man in question.

“I really like you.” The admission comes out as nothing more than a rumble as Noah rocks Ellery in his arms, stroking his cheek with that same thumb still. If each rub against stubble feeds tinder to his belly, the sheepish smile that Ellery melts into is gasoline.

“I can tell,” Ellery laughs with a shake of his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to be better.”

“Again—I can tell. God, Noah,” laughs Ellery, flushed with any number of things Noah hopes he’s feeling. Noah gives him another peck on the lips before finally turning to acknowledge the crowd.

“Hey, guys. Uhh… sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?!” Gerald wails, and everyone agrees eagerly, tittering amongst themselves over what will undoubtedly be one of the most memorable party moments of the semester. Remember when that ball player burst in with Ellery and they made out without saying a word?

Noah simply exists, feeling Ellery kiss his neck—natural and possessive, and Noah can’t stop smiling if he’d wanted to. But he doesn’t, just closes his eyes as Ellery hugs him and nuzzles into the dry sweat on his neck, inhaling deeply.

“Hey,” Ellery murmurs against his skin, and Noah cocks his head down for Ellery to speak into his ear. “Do you wanna go to my place...?”

Noah has no idea if Ellery has a roommate, or what’s entailed in an invitation like that—but he’s riding a high so real and palpable that he doesn’t care, and he memorizes the way Ellery shivers when he presses his lips to the shell of his ear and whispers, “Please.”