Bitter Treats (BxB Romance, In Progress)

17: Sweet Kisses

Looking across the dusty soccer field, memories assaulted Tyler from all sides. He could even see the roof of the house where he grew up--before everything went awry and he moved to his aunt and uncle's place--beyond the rickety fence. He hadn't been back there since. Perhaps another young boy lived there now, escaping to the field next door when life became too much.

Life certainly seemed to be overwhelming Robin right now, which was why Tyler had brought him to this spot. Because coming here had always helped him in such moments and he wanted to share that with his... tutor? friend? crush? Truthfully, Tyler wasn't quite sure how to describe what Robin was to him currently, but he knew what he wanted him to be.

It was too early to even think it but Tyler couldn't help but get ahead of himself. His thoughts always seemed to stumble eagerly, rushing to future scenarios.

Boyfriend. The mere word took his breath away.

Escaping hasty conclusions, Tyler trekked quickly across the gravel-covered turf, illuminated by the sheen of street lights. Everything looked the same as always, as if time had stood still. But he wasn't the same. Like a time traveler from the future, he stepped into memories from a decade ago. He could almost see himself as a kid running back and forth, furiously kicking a ball against the fence over and over.

Tyler was still that kid, but he also was someone different. And it wasn't the crutches that made the difference, it was how he felt inside. It was how he felt for Robin. Excited. Proud. Infatuated.

He was finally ready to stop hiding and truly be himself.

A worn soccer ball lay in the middle of the field as if it had waited for him ever since he left all those years ago, in another life. Tyler poked it with his crutch, which bounced off the ball, signaling that it at least wasn't completely deflated.

Turning toward Robin, he realized that the other boy was lagging behind. A sign that Tyler had gotten pretty damn speedy on his crutches. Maybe crutch racing was a sport he could take up in lieu of soccer? Because the thought of never feeling the rush of competition again was depressing. Surely, he could still do something. He knew the Paralympics were a thing, which meant there must be activities for people with similar injuries. Once he got his prosthetic, he promised himself to look into all that. Or make someone do it for him.

Uncertainty was written on Robin's face once he reached Tyler, probably wondering what Tyler had planned for him. Not knowing what was to come seemed to make Robin anxious. Luckily, the activity Tyler had in mind was meant to alleviate such emotions rather than exaggerate them.

Pointing at the ball with the end of his crutch, he told Robin to "Kick it!"

Robin just stared at the ball, as if he wasn't quite sure how to even execute Tyler's command. "I.. can't," he mumbled.

Once again using the crutch, which was a great tool for such maneuvers, Tyler rolled the ball toward Robin. "Just try to kick it into the fence," he said encouragingly. "That's what I always did when I was frustrated. Over and over. It helps. I promise."

Robin's gaze turned toward the fence. Perhaps he wondered if he could even make the soccer ball travel that far. It seemed some advice on ball management was in order. Luckily, Tyler knew all about that. And not in a dirty sense, although he wouldn't mind exploring balls in such a manner as well.

"Just make sure to hit with your ankle or side of the foot. Not the toes." Tyler instructed and pointed toward the corresponding areas on Robin's foot with his crutch.

Encouraged by Tyler's instructions, Robin took aim, backing away a few feet before he ran toward the ball. The focus on his face, expressed by the tip of his tongue peaking out between tense lips, was, as most things Robin did, adorable to Tyler.