Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 202: Third wheeling

Chapter 202: Third wheeling

The stranger...

He is tall, well-dressed—lean, with brown hair slicked back, very stylish in a relaxed way, even though he was wearing a simple tee and pants. He was holding a fruit basket, wrapped with a ribbon, as though he had stepped straight out of an elite magazine spread for "Thoughtful & Nice Visitors Weekly."

The stranger blinked, visibly startled when he saw Sky. "Oh. Uh..."

Sky blinked in return, wondering if he was in the right room. The man glanced down at the room plaque, back at Sky, then frowned slightly. "Isn’t this... Chris Owen’s room?"

Sky hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I mean... I think so."

The stranger tilted his head. It was obvious he was lost as to why a stranger was in this room then.

Sky crossed his arms. "You’re looking for Chris?"

"Yes. I’m Liam. Liam Adley," the stranger said, holding up the fruit basket as if it were a peace offering. "Old frenemy. Brought him this. Uh... are you a patient here?"

Sky blinked. Chris never mentioned this guy. Who was he?

"Right. Sorry. Yeah. I’m... Sky."

Liam seemed momentarily unsure of what to say, so he nodded and awkwardly responded with, "Cool."

Sky pointed vaguely toward the door. "Chris is probably with his parents right now. He said he’d be back."

"Right," Liam said. He still looked surprised, maybe even a little too curious.

A long pause followed, thick with the discomfort that had suddenly materialized between them.

"I’ll just... wait here then?" Liam asked, setting the fruit basket down on the table. He glanced at the snacks and juice boxes that had already accumulated there. "Wow. I knew bringing a fruit basket was unnecessary." He said as he sat down on the couch. Then he took a sandwich and was about to bite into it when he paused and looked at Sky again.

"Uh... do you mind?" He was referring to the sandwich. Joining in the feast he was not invited to.

Sky stared at him, at a loss for words. He didn’t know where to stand. He didn’t know where to look. And he really didn’t like how unsettled this stranger made him feel.

This was definitely not going according to the plan. Not that he had one.

"Feel free," he said to Liam, who gave him a dimpled smile. Once again, something about this dude seemed to make him very uncomfortable. But he tried to ignore it and went to pick up some sandwiches too but took them to the couch far away from him. Choosing to sit there instead.

It was awkward. If he had his phone, he would have gone through it. But thankfully, there was a book there. A new book which looked like nothing Chris would ever read. He wasn’t sure how it got there, but he picked it up and flipped through, trying so hard not to look at the guy across from him who was scrolling through his phone when eating elegantly.

This was the scene Chris walked into when he opened the door quietly.

And the moment his gaze landed on Liam, Sky could see it—a flicker in Chris’s eyes that didn’t belong. It was subtle, but it was there. Something that had been left unsaid, lingering. And Sky wasn’t about to let that slide.

Finally, it hit him.

The reason that boy bothered him so much.

His (Sky’s) features and Liam’s were kind of similar.

He hated to admit it, but a part of him couldn’t shake the thought: Does Chris have a type?

The idea gnawed at him, and something twisted in his gut.

’Not now,’ he begged whatever demon inside of him that was trying to come out to stay the fuck down.

"Never pegged you to be the type to visit your enemy with a fruit basket," Chris said, breaking the silence with a sharp, almost defensive edge to his tone, his gaze set on Liam.

Liam just shrugged. "I poisoned it. Thought it was a good way to kill you."

Chris let out a laugh but he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to Sky. Just a brief second—long enough for Sky to notice—but then it was back to the interaction. "Yeah, well, uh, thanks. I’ll try to disappoint you by not dying. I live to make you fail."

"Who knows? You may collapse again and never wake up."

"I didn’t collapse! I only needed rest." Chris retorted.

Sky’s eyes narrowed. He was watching too closely—watching them banter, Chris’s lips curling into a smile just a little too familiar. That smile. The way Chris’s eyes softened when he looked at Liam, even if only for a split second. It’s just a smile, Sky told himself, trying to tamp down the feeling of discomfort building in his chest. But it wouldn’t sit still.

Sky’s voice was sharp when he spoke, not able to keep the irritation at bay anymore. "So, you two were close friends?"

Liam looked mortified, like the question itself had slapped him across the face. "Close friends?" He let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "The guy is my rival—my most hated rival." His face twisted with disgust as he added, "The only friendly thing we ever did was dance at prom, and that shit crawled under my skin for months afterward."

Chris laughed again, a genuine chuckle. "Glad to see we both felt and feel the same way."

Sky was brimming. The way Chris and Liam had history, how they seemed so at ease with one another—it was too much. Chris’s laughter, his casualness, his obvious comfort around Liam—it dug under Sky’s skin in ways he couldn’t fully explain.

They’re too familiar.

Sky put the book down, eyes cold. He wasn’t in the mood for any more of this. "So, you two really were just rivals?" His voice was dangerous, low and tense.

Liam caught his gaze for a second before shrugging. "We barely spoke outside of the competition. This dude hates me so much that he had to change high schools just so he could compete with me in games."