Fics like secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought

God, look at him, Mitch’s mind whispered, a frantic, starry-eyed prayer. He’s a machine. A beautiful, relentless machine. His eyes followed Josh’s walk back to his mark, the way his whites clung to the sweat-dampened muscles of his back, the focused set of his shoulders. Every fibre of Mitch’s being was attuned to the man in the centre. Pat Cummins saw the way Mitch looked at Josh – not with petty envy of a rival, but with raw, unguarded hunger. It was a look that stripped away all pretence, and it made Pat’s breath catch. But his gaze then shifted to Josh, the architect of this madness, and the punch softened into a wave of deep, warm admiration. He harboured a strong, lasting affection for Josh. He admired his composed calm, his dry wit that could cut through any tension, the quiet, unwavering strength that seemed to be his very essence. Hoff, he thought, a tenderness easing the sting of his envy. Of course, it would be you. You magnificent bastard. You’re the rock. The one we all orbit.

Fics like secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought

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