After a rap on the door, Cuba laces up his shoes in the hallway while KJ opens the door, decked out in a pink and white Spoonbill’s hat and jersey. She pumps her fists in the air when she sees Raphael donning a Spoonbill t-shirt of his own, matched with 1960s style basketball short shorts. Who would Raphael Kapoor be if he wasn’t in a pair of shorts?

“Courtside fucking seats, baby!” KJ yelps, pulling in Raphael for a hug and planting kisses onto his cheek. She gestures for him to come inside. “Can I just say, I truly love everything you’ve done for society, Raphael. You’re a real humanitarian.”

“Don’t mention it,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes with a smile stretching his face as KJ shuts the door behind him. He walks down the hall to Cuba, with a matching smile plastered on his face.

“Hey kid,” he says, stepping close to Cuba.

“Hey,” Cuba replies, dropping his arms around Raphael’s neck. He strokes his hair and looks into his eyes. He kisses him just once and smirks at the domesticity. “My man.”

Raphael cranes his neck back. “I’m your man?”

Cuba nods. “At this point, what else could you be?

“All right, then I’m your man. And you’re mine.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cuba answers, and kisses Raphael once again. He drops his hands and Raphael links a pinky with his.

KJ stands in the doorway, tapping her foot. “The game waits for no one, people, not even when half the team is yours.”

Raphael snickers and walks ahead, letting KJ out ahead of him. She whistles when she catches sight of the Tesla that Cuba had long grown used to. She spins on her heel to face Cuba and Raphael. “Can I drive?” she asks with a grin, rubbing her hands together.

Raphael shrugs. “Sure.” He digs into the pocket of his jacket and fishes out the keys, then tosses them to KJ.

Cuba looks at Raphael askance through the corner of his eye. “Are you willing to risk your life today?”

Raphael laughs and KJ’s brow furrows. “Hey!” she shouts, pointing a finger at Cuba. “I’m a great driver.”

“Didn’t Mollie and Ro say that you let their car roll down a hill and into a lake?” Cuba asks.

KJ rolls her eyes and clicks open the doors. They swing open and Cuba pushes the front seat up so he can get into the back, with Raphael right behind him, never letting go of his hand.

“I’m not worried,” Raph says, pushing the front seat back into its proper place. “The Tesla will drive if KJ can’t.”

KJ groans and steps into the driver’s seat, carefully doing all the right things, like she’s taking her driving test. When she puts her foot down on the gas, the car jumps forward. She laughs it off, but in the backseat, Cuba and Raphael don’t notice a damn thing.

Raphael has his arm stretched across the back seat and Cuba holds his face in his hands. Their eyes are closed, and their lips are pressed together, parting only to let a little bit of tongue in. Raphael’s mouth tastes like gum. He can’t taste the nicotine.

Cuba pulls away and Raphael opens his eyes. “When’s the last time you smoked?”

“I quit,” Raphael says, and leans in to get back to kissing.

Cuba’s return kiss is distracted. “Why?”

“Because,” Raphael says, grazing a thumb across Cuba’s hairline. “Someone I care about very much once told me that it’ll kill me.”

Cuba smiles and returns his tongue to Raphael’s mouth.

“You guys are disgusting,” KJ says from the front seat. They hardly remembered she was there.

Raphael chuckles and kisses Cuba even more, all the way to the arena.

* * *

KJ manages to get them to the parking lot without any casualties. Raphael tells her to wait for them by the door while they stay by the car.

“I got you something,” Raphael says, digging into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a biker’s cap with that pink and white spoonbill on it. He fits it onto Cuba’s head and takes a step back to admire his masterpiece.

“Do I look good?”

“Always,” Raphael says. He pulls Cuba in close and puts his hands on his shoulders.

“I really want to wear you on my arm tonight. Let everyone see you.”

Cuba looks Raphael up and down. “So let them.”

Raphael smiles, but it vanishes quickly. “And I would. But there’s nothing cameramen love more than zooming into the people sitting in the floor seats.”

Cuba smiles, not understanding what Raphael is getting at.

“These are nationally syndicated games, Cuba. And people know I’m gay. If I show up with my hands all over you, people will know what that means. Your dad, even.”

Cuba leans back on the car behind him. His heart thumps but he knows what he wants. “Someone I care about very much once told me ‘Fuck him.’ If he has a problem with it, then fuck him.”

Raphael is nothing but smiles. He kisses Cuba quickly and throws and arm around his shoulder. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure about you.”

Cuba tucks his hand around Raphael’s waist and meets KJ at the arena, who’s wearing a frown.

“I told you, the game waits for no one,” she says, and falls in step behind the boys.

All Raphael has to do is nod, the way he always does, and the doors open wide for him. Inside the arena, KJ cranes her neck, looking all around, at the jumbotron, the gigantic scoreboard, the flurry of seats, and the mass of people. She inhales deeply, taking in the squeaking sound of sneakers hitting the court, coming from the players running their drills. Raphael smiles and pulls KJ close to him. He squeezes a hug around both Cuba and KJ’s necks.

“Get used to this,” Raph says to KJ over the buzzing crowd. “You’ve got seats whenever you want them.”

KJ utters a rushed thank you, twists out from under Raphael’s grasp, and bolts down to the floor seats.

“Why do I feel like she’s our hyperactive daughter?” Cuba says. He leans into Raphael and makes him lose his balance a bit.

“Maybe it’s because you’re such a daddy,” Raphael says into Cuba’s ear, then bites his earlobe.

Cuba cringes and giggles all at once. “Ew.”

“What, you don’t like that?” Raph bites all over Cuba’s ear. “Daddy, daddy, daddy.”

“That is so gross,” Cuba says. He turns his head when he sees a camera flash go off. He blinks away the green behind his eyelids only to be met with another flash. He turns to Raphael.

“This is it. No going back.”

Cuba takes a deep breath, cameras still flashing in front of him. He turns Raphael’s face towards his with one finger and he kisses him softly, long enough for the cameras to get their pictures. He pulls away with a smirk on his face. “No going back,” he repeats.

Raphael punches his chest lightly and leads them to their seats beside KJ, who’s standing with bent knees, her head bobbing in the direction of the basketball. Cuba sits in his seat beside Raphael and sighs in relief. For once in his life, he feels like he’s free. He leans his head on Raphael’s shoulder and more cameras flash, but he doesn’t even see them. Doesn’t see the players on the court either, all he can see is the long road of his life ahead, where he and Raphael are hand in hand.

He tilts his head up to Raphael. He watches the way his eyes move, following the game that just started. Every so often his lips will stretch into the smile that shows his molars and his sharp island tooth. He’ll grab hold of his hair in frustration. It’s like Cuba can see who Raphael is when he’s all by himself.

Raphael looks down at Cuba, who doesn’t break eye contact. “What?” he says, smiling.

“I love you.”

The happiness in Raphael’s face turns into earnest passion. “I love you, too,” he says, chest heaving.

He picks Cuba’s head up off his shoulder and kisses him. It’s electric in a way it’s never been before.