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They had come a long way since their first awkward conversation on stream. Hours spent in voice calls together had gone from feeling stiff and uncomfortable to smooth and familiar. His minecraft skills had improved at the same pace. What had originally felt overwhelming, runs chopped and jagged, was now seamless, a practiced rhythm he could do while half asleep.
And he had. Many of their practice sessions had gone late into the night, streams long ended in favor of private rooms and discord calls, both of them just tired enough to lose their filters, quiet conversations continuing even after his hands had paused on the keys and the run was forgotten.
Which only meant that Evbo was thrilled to finally meet his coach in person. They had gone from strangers to what he would call friends through their practice, and he was eager to be able to spend time together without the barrier of a screen between them. And if secretly he was hoping that maybe they could go beyond friends over the weekend, well, no one else really needed to know that.
He had hoped that they could meet immediately, but he understood that wasn't possible. Infume had friends here who he rarely got to see, and while he desperately wanted his coach's attention, he wasn't going to be selfish and admit it out loud. Then Infume would just feel guilty. The last thing he wanted was Infume spending time with him out of pity.
So he kept himself busy until they were due on stage. And finally, Infume was there in front of him. It was awkward at first, comfort built over stream not quite carrying over to interacting in person.
The discomfort only lasted for a couple minutes, though, the laughter caused by their mutual inability to figure out how to set things up breaking the ice, and soon they fell back into the easy back and forth of their usual conversation.
It was a long day. Infume was great, as always, coaching him through his matches and practice alike. He always seemed to know when to talk, when to point out something Evbo had missed or remind him to do something. He also knew when to be quiet, letting him focus on his movement instead of having to listen.
Between matches, Evbo pulled up practice rooms, parkour maps, anything to keep him warmed up, splitting his attention between the game, the chat, and honestly, his coach. The stupid shorts Infume was wearing meant that his legs were mostly visible, brushing against his under the table in a frankly distracting way.
He kept a tight rein on his feelings, never letting himself go past the teasing flirtation that had developed on their streams over the past few weeks. When Infume looked at him, a question clear on his face, Evbo shrugged it off. "Just playing it up for chat." He whispered, and Infume nodded. But several times, he caught the blush Infume tried to hide from the cameras, and knew he had to back off. The last thing he wanted was to make him uncomfortable.
The rush of adrenaline from winning was incredible. He jumped out of his seat, reaching for Infume immediately. Only his coach's panicked reminder to get in the fountain saved his run, and he hurried to finish before celebrating further.
The hug Infume gave him when they were finally finished felt incredible, his coach just the right height for a perfect hug. The trophies were given, interviews done, and finally, they could leave.
He turned to put his trophy in his backpack, unplugging his equipment from the computer to return to his hotel. "Hey, you ready for dinner?" He asked, turning to where Infume had been only to find the space empty. He looked frantically around the stage, and then, finding nothing, expanded his search to the convention floor.
But Infume was nowhere to be found. He looked for over an hour, sent multiple texts, even tried asking some of his friends if they had seen him, but no luck. He tried one last message. 'Where are you? I'm actually getting worried now.'
Sticking his phone in his pocket, he began to leave the building, heading off towards his hotel. What had he done to scare Infume off like that? He hadn't seemed upset on stage, but, while Infume had a reputation for being pretty obvious, he could hide his feelings well when he really wanted to. Evbo must have gone too far and made him uncomfortable. Guilt hit him heavily, stirring nausea in his stomach.
He had never wanted to make Infume upset. Everything he had done for the past several weeks had been aimed towards making the other man happy, the feeling in his chest when Infume praised him a high he had been chasing constantly. And now he had scared Infume away. There was no more midoffs practice. Infume had no reason to talk to him any more. Maybe that's what he had been waiting for. Counting down the hours until he could get rid of his annoying student.
He could see his hotel in front of him, less than a block away, but Evbo had to take a minute to lean against the wall next to him. Had he really driven Infume away? He had thought they could have something, and instead he had ruined everything. His hands, which had been steady all throughout the competition, were now shaking uncontrollably.
A couple people walked past, looking at him strangely, and he forced himself to straighten. He could have a breakdown once he was safely inside his room.
Just as he was walking through the doors, his phone buzzed. He yanked it free of his pocket, heart pounding at the sight of the contact name. The message was nothing more than a room number, but Evbo's heart was soaring. Infume was talking to him. He hadn't completely ruined everything. At least he had a chance.
None of the elevators were there, and after waiting impatiently for a moment, he abandoned them in favor of running up the stairs. By the time he reached the fourth floor, he was breathing heavily, but he refused to pause to catch his breath. Hurrying down the hall, counting numbers as he went, he tried to rehearse his speech in his head. He should start with an apology, and then give Infume a chance to tell him whatever he was thinking. Even if he sent Evbo away forever, then at least he would know Infume was safe.
He knocked hesitantly on the door number Infume had given him, waiting anxiously for a reply. It was silent for a long moment. Just as he was about to knock again, Infume answered. He had clearly been crying, tear tracks running down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry." Evbo blurted. "I never meant for you to feel uncomfortable, I promise."
Infume frowned, confusion written across his face. "Why are you apologizing?"
Evbo winced. "I've been flirting with you all day, and I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't mean for you to find out my feelings like this. I never meant to hurt you."
Infume stepped back, clearing the way into the room. "Come in." Once they were both seated on the bed, Evbo's hands nervously twisting in his lap, Infume cleared his throat. "So you've been freaking out this whole time because you thought you made me uncomfortable and I ran off? Because you thought I found out about your feelings and it scared me away?"
Evbo nodded miserably. "I turned around and you weren't there. And I know I've been pushing it all day, but I didn't mean to make you upset. And then I couldn't find you, and no one knew where you were, and all I could think about was how midoffs was over. You don't have to coach me any more, and now that you're free, you couldn't wait to get rid of me."
"I didn't leave because of you." Infume said firmly, and Evbo felt like he could breathe again. "Well, I did, but not the way you're thinking."
"That cleared up absolutely nothing!"
Infume turned away, refusing to meet Evbo's eyes. "I left because I realized what I wanted, and I didn't want to put any pressure on you. I'm not your coach anymore, and I don't want you to feel like you have to do what I tell you to as some sort of payback or obligation."
Suddenly, Evbo had a good idea where this was going. He reached out and gently turned Infume's face towards him. "And what is it you want to tell me to do?"
It was a long minute before Infume answered, blush traveling up his cheeks. "Kiss me." He finally whispered. "I know we were joking about it earlier, but I haven't been able to get it out of my head." His voice got stronger the longer he spoke. "You have no idea what I want with you. Watching the way you've improved so much over the last few weeks, the amount of talent you have, your focus and determination. It was all I could do not to kiss you on stage in front of the entire world. So I ran away."
Evbo's head spun, Infume's actions throughout the day rearranging themselves into a completely different picture. "What if I wanted that?"
Infume had pulled away, hiding his face behind his hat, but that quiet question drew him back out, peeking around the brim. "What?"
"What if I wanted you to kiss me? What if I came here hoping to finally admit to you just how much I cared about you? What if every hour I've spent in this city that wasn't by your side was torture, knowing I could have been spending time with you? What if I've been terrified that now that midoffs was over we would never talk again, and I would lose the best thing in my life?" He reached out, knocking Infume's hat off and running his fingers through his hair. "Could I kiss you then?"
Infume nodded, leaning into the touch, his eyes sliding closed. Evbo leaned forward, heart pounding, as he finally got what he wanted.
When he finally pulled back, Infume was leaning heavily against him, eyes still closed, a smile on his lips. "What do you want?" Evbo whispered against his lips, refusing to go far.
"Whatever you're willing to give me." Infume admitted, eyes opening slowly. "I don't want this to be just tonight. I don't want to lose you."
The raw vulnerability in his tone nearly broke Evbo's composure. "That's what I want too." He pressed another kiss to Infume's lips before pulling back. "Dinner?" He grinned at the whine Infume let out.
"I'm not hungry." He said petulantly.
"Well, I am. And besides, we need to actually talk. We're not going to ruin this because we couldn't wait an hour. We can come back here after food."
Infume's eyes darkened. "Do we have to wait?"
"We're waiting." Evbo slid off the bed, grabbing his backpack from where he had discarded it on the floor. "Meet you in the lobby in ten minutes. And wear something nice. Those shorts are incredibly distracting."
Infume grinned, stretching lazily. "Maybe I should keep them on." He teased.
"Do that, and you're not getting anything tonight!" Infume frowned slightly. "What's wrong?"
"I don't have a lot of practice with that." He admitted quietly. "No one was exactly lining up for me back home."
"That's fine." Evbo said, tossing a cheeky smile over his shoulder. "You got me this far, coach. It's my turn to do a little teaching!" He shut the door behind him, catching a glimpse of Infume's astonished face before the door swung into place. He laughed. This was going to be fun.