The annual University Interdepartmental Sports Meet was no joke.
Every college brought their A-game—matching jerseys, booming chants, choreographed cheers that could rival halftime shows, and department flags that fluttered like battle standards over the campus fields. It was more than tradition. It was a warzone wrapped in sweaty team spirit and over-the-top rivalry.
And this year? Something absolutely unthinkable had happened.
Engineering and Architecture were... allied.
Cleo tugged at the hem of his fitted navy-blue varsity jersey, eyeing the bold "ENG + ARCH" print on the back like it was some cursed inscription.
"This feels like breaking some sacred code," he muttered.
Beside him, Riz was already limbering up in slow, dramatic stretches. His white and navy jersey clung just a little too well to his back and biceps, his toned frame moving with practiced ease. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and shot Cleo a grin that was way too smug for this early in the morning.
"Desperate times, Reyes," he said cheerfully. "Our departments called a truce to form a super team. Apparently no one wants to get obliterated by the Law kids again this year. Did you see their captain? The guy does triathlons for fun."
Cleo crossed his arms. "So we're just handing over our dignity for a better shot at the trophy?"
Riz leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "You mean we're working together for once? Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."
Cleo gave him a look. "I don't need your pity, Castillo."
Riz chuckled and shifted even closer, so close that Cleo could feel the heat radiating off him. "I'm not offering pity. I'm offering... team spirit. We're teammates now, remember?" He bumped Cleo's shoulder with his own. "So try not to fall too hard for me out there."
Cleo blinked, caught off guard by the flirtatious lilt in Riz's voice—and even more by how much he liked it.
"You're insufferable," he said, rolling his eyes a little too late to hide his flustered reaction.
"And you're blushing," Riz shot back, already jogging toward the warm-up circle with a bounce in his step. He glanced over his shoulder and called out, "Don't worry, Cleo. I'll save you a spot on the podium!"
Cleo groaned under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "I'm going to murder him. Or kiss him. One of those."
He wasn't sure which option scared him more.
----------------------
The tournament kicked off with volleyball, and the energy on the court was electric. Students packed the sidelines, waving banners and yelling chants that rattled the bleachers. The Engineering-Architecture alliance was drawing curious stares—and unexpected support.
Riz, with his sweat-damp curls and magnetic grin, moved like the court was his stage. He called plays with confidence, lifting the team's energy like a true captain, shouting encouragements between serves and laughing even after near-misses.
"Eyes up, Bea! You're not daydreaming about Law's captain again, are you?"
Laughter rippled across the court.
Meanwhile, Cleo was all cool focus and sharp reflexes. He played clean and smart, moving like a machine—until Riz stepped into his field of view, all sun and smug smiles, and messed everything up in the best way.
"Set me up!" Riz called, already airborne like gravity didn't apply to him.
Cleo didn't hesitate. His fingers moved on instinct, the perfect arc, the perfect height—he barely had time to blink before Riz slammed the ball over the net with a thundering spike.
The crowd exploded. Cheers, whistles, someone from the Engineering side actually jumped onto the bleachers yelling, "That's my captain!!" despite Riz being from Architecture.
Cleo rubbed the back of his neck as Riz jogged back to his side, cheeks flushed, breathing heavy from the run. His grin was wide, wild, and slightly wicked.
"I'm starting to think we're a good team," Cleo muttered, just loud enough for Riz to hear.
Riz stopped right in front of him, leaning in a little too close, hands on his hips, his breath still quick. "Only starting?" he teased, tilting his head. "Wow, Cleo. For someone who builds bridges, you're awfully slow at making connections."
Cleo blinked. "Did you seriously just—"
"Use a construction pun?" Riz grinned wider. "Yes. And I've got more where that came from."
Cleo scoffed, trying to hide how hard he was fighting a smile. "Don't make me drop a beam on your foot."
"Now that's the passion I'm looking for." Riz winked, then turned with a dramatic spin. "Back in formation, Reyes. We've got a game to win."
Cleo stared at his back for a moment, then exhaled through a laugh and jogged after him. "I swear to God..."
But the truth was, he liked playing with Riz. More than liked it. On the court, it felt like their bodies spoke a secret language—every movement anticipated, every assist answered. They were fluid. Fast. Unstoppable.
And maybe—just maybe—it wasn't so different off the court either.
-------------------------
By the time the mixed relay came around, both Cleo and Riz were drenched in sweat, shirts clinging to their backs, and streaks of dirt smudged across their arms and legs. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the track, and the entire university seemed to pulse with excitement. Every event had been fierce—but this was where champions were made.
Cleo stood at the handoff point, knees bent, heart hammering in his chest. Across the field, Riz was a blur of motion, sprinting down the lane like his shoes had wings.
Their eyes locked—Riz's gaze steady, burning with adrenaline and something else, something warm and just a little dangerous.
Their hands touched. A spark. Just a brush of fingers—but Cleo felt it shoot up his arm, down his spine. His body moved before his brain caught up. He ran.
Like lightning.
The roar of the crowd disappeared under the sound of his own heartbeat, his feet pounding the track, lungs burning. When he crossed the finish line, Riz was already there, arms out, catching him as he stumbled into his chest.
"We killed it," Riz breathed, grinning wide, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.
"Yeah," Cleo panted, breathless, dazed. "We really did."
They won the relay.
And then the tug-of-war, Riz's team captain voice turning feral as he barked orders and Cleo dug in beside him, muscles straining with every pull. They dragged the Law kids across the line and nearly fell on top of each other laughing.
Somehow, they even won basketball—thanks to Riz's wild three-point shot at the buzzer and Cleo playing defense like a wall.
By sunset, the scores were tied.
Engineering and Architecture vs. Law.
One last event.
The announcer stepped up with dramatic flair. "And for our grand finale—the co-ed obstacle race! But this year... there's a twist." He held up a pair of bright orange velcro wrist cuffs. "The final round must be completed with a partner. Tied together. Hand in hand—or rather, wrist to wrist."
The field exploded with noise.
Riz turned to Cleo with a grin that was almost criminal. "Guess who's getting handcuffed to you."
Cleo backed up half a step. "Oh no."
"Oh yes," Riz said smugly.
And then—Bea.
"WAIT!" she cried, fanning herself dramatically as she ran up in full glamor, even in her dusty team jersey. "Let me live! The tension between you two is making me sweat harder than the actual sun." She flopped dramatically between them, looping her arms around both of their shoulders. "Why don't you just kiss already and win this thing with the power of gay love?!"
Riz cackled. Cleo looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
Bea wasn't done. "I mean, come on! The longing stares? The subtle touches? The tragic rivalry that turned into teamwork? If this was a drama series, I'd be screaming at the screen by now!"
"Bea, please," Cleo hissed, face redder than Riz's team bandana.
"I'm just saying," Bea said, holding her hands up like a saint, "if you two fall into the mud pit and come out tangled in each other, I am not going to pretend to be surprised."
Riz leaned into Cleo's side and whispered, "She's not entirely wrong."
Cleo gave him a warning look. "Don't even think about—"
But Riz was already grabbing the wrist cuffs from the event marshal.
"You ready to be tied to me, Reyes?" he asked, holding one end out with a wink.
Cleo rolled his eyes, but his smirk betrayed him. "Only if I get to drag you through the mud."
"Promise?" Riz purred.
Bea shrieked and dramatically pretended to faint on the grass.
--------------
The co-ed obstacle race was madness.
Mud pits, balance beams, inflatable barriers, and soggy water balloon gauntlets turned the course into a battlefield. Pairs tripped, slipped, and screamed with laughter—or frustration—as they tried to stay upright while tethered to someone else.
But Riz and Cleo?
They moved like they'd done this a thousand times before.
It was like watching a perfectly synchronized dance. Cleo would duck; Riz would twist. Riz would leap; Cleo would pull. They didn't even speak half the time—they didn't need to. Every glance and tug on the wrist strap was a wordless cue. Trust. Rhythm. Timing.
People on the sidelines were yelling for their own teams—but more than a few eyes were locked on the unlikely duo sprinting through the obstacles like a scene from a movie.
Even Bea, holding a glittery pom-pom from who-knows-where, screamed from the sidelines. "OH MY GOD THIS IS CHEMISTRY! THIS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERS IN REAL TIME!!"
But then—the hurdle.
It wasn't even that high, just a narrow wooden beam they had to hop over in tandem. Easy—except Riz misjudged the timing, and Cleo's foot slipped in the loose sand.
They crashed.
Down they went in a flailing tangle of limbs, sand flying in all directions as they landed face-first and shoulder-first and everything-in-between into the soft earth.
For a moment, there was just breathless silence—and then the two of them burst out laughing.
Cleo rolled onto his back, breathing hard, sand stuck in his hair and on his cheek. "We're not gonna win now."
Riz groaned, rolling half on top of him, both of their arms still awkwardly bound together at the wrist. Their faces were inches apart. "We already did."
The way he said it—soft, warm, like there was a second meaning buried under the obvious—made Cleo's breath catch.
Their eyes locked, and for a suspended second, the world shrank to just them. The heat of Riz's body against his. The feel of his wrist pressed to Cleo's. Their hands, fingers slightly intertwined. The sun glinting off Riz's lashes.
Cleo didn't move.
Neither did Riz.
Then—
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Bea's shriek pierced the air like an air raid siren. "SOMEONE GET A CAMERA! THIS IS A YAOI SCENE IN LIVE ACTION!! THEY'RE MAKING HEART EYES IN THE SAND!! I CAN'T—I CAN'T BREATHE!!"
People turned. Phones were already out. A wave of cheering and laughter broke across the field.
Cleo groaned and flopped his head back into the sand. "I am going to kill her."
Riz was wheezing with laughter. "You're going to have to untie yourself first."
The whistle blew. The actual winners crossed the finish line. But no one cared.
When Riz and Cleo finally stood, still bound together, muddy and flushed and smiling like idiots, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. The Engineering and Architecture departments didn't even wait for the official score—they hoisted the boys up, both of them, onto their shoulders.
"You're our champions!" someone shouted.
"JUST KISS ALREADY!" Bea bellowed, somehow louder than a megaphone.
Cleo didn't say anything. He just smiled as Riz grinned beside him, hands still linked through the velcro strap.
They didn't win the race.
But somehow, they'd won something way bigger.
____________-
End of Chapter Nine