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Brennan had heard the murmurs in the Welsh dressing room before, back when Gareth was still around, but thought it was just baseless gossip – the kind that every footballer, particularly of Gareth’s level, gets involved in, or perhaps it was just one of the teammates having a laugh. Because a 19-year-old Brennan simply refused to believe that the Gareth Bale could have been even remotely involved in an entanglement with a teammate, let alone two of them.
It was Harry who had first implied it sometime during the first international camp of the COVID season, back when Brennan was still finding his place in the squad. “Gareth’s been playing a few favourites nowadays, even if he doesn’t act like it,” and Brennan simply nodded at the time, thinking it was merely Gareth playing around with the squad. “Don’t tell him anything, though,” Harry says with a laugh, but a reason never comes.
Gareth’s all the same, yet rejuvenated, and Brennan can only assume it has something to do with leaving Madrid and returning to London. But Brennan’s still shy and quiet, his place in the squad present yet not quite there on the bigger stages, so he doesn’t ask for the whys. It’s instantly noticeable how he gravitates towards Ben – who Brennan had always expected, two of the longer serving players, leadership group and all that – but also Joe, which had surprised him. But he bites his tongue like the rest of the teammates and doesn’t say a word; Brennan tells himself it’s just Gareth becoming closer with his new teammates at club level, but there’s something undeniably sensual about the air between them – the looks, touches, smiles – it’s like they know every nook and cranny of each other, and Brennan isn’t sure what to make of that.
Suddenly, it feels like there’s no space for the rest of them, and Gareth’s world only has two names: Ben and Joe.
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Gareth has always been a bit of a teaser and jokester, but around Joe, he took it to a whole new level. He lets it happen, watches the younger frown and his cheeks turn red at the embarrassment, and lets him moan about his problems (most of them involving Gareth himself, but he can’t help but find it rather amusing). It’s all rather endearing how little Joe seems to be able to pick up the massive signals Gareth is trying to convey, but he lets the boy be oblivious – as time goes on, Gareth finds the utter ignorance blissful at times. The ability to push people’s buttons and have everyone, including Joe, think it’s all friendly banter. Gareth knows he already has that power, with seniority, being captain, and all that, but to push Joe’s buttons specifically, he knew he was falling harder.
Almost everyone thinks it’s friendly banter, but Gareth notices how Ben always keeps a watchful eye on Joe. Knows that if he asks, Ben will shrug and mention something about a new young lad, keeping an eye on him, defenders and their chemistry and all that; the stuff that makes Gareth roll his eyes and call Ben an overthinker. Ben would just frown, shrug, take no offence and move on like the gentleman is he – never one to daddle with subjects he doesn’t find any worth in talking about – Gareth supposes he admires that, though he’d never bother doing that himself. Bit too carefree, a bit reckless, but that’s just who he is.
Gareth admits that he doesn’t entirely know if there’s more between Ben and Joe – doesn’t entirely care, if he’s honest – because they could very much be sharing the same bed at night, every night, two Swansea boys together, but Gareth pretends he doesn’t notice. It’s one of those days where Joe attaches himself closer to Ben than the rest, even though they’re most certainly not in the same age group and really, Ben’s a full-back, so Gareth’s not sure why Joe has any need to be so close to Ben. By that logic, Gareth knows he has no business meddling between them, even less than Ben if anything, but he still approaches the pair with the same teasing look on his face.
Joe makes some comments about having to split into their positions for training, but Gareth merely shrugs, resulting in an eye roll from Joe, though Ben laughs it off and jokes about Gareth trying to compete with him in left-back. Neither push him away, and Gareth takes that as a good sign. Really, he should be asking what you two are, but the words come and go out of his head, and he decides that the banter was more fun than any foolish confrontation in front of the squad. Ben doesn’t say much, knows he doesn’t quite fit in with the banter when it’s on a roll, but makes the occasional wayward comment that leaves Joe and Gareth supporting themselves on their knees.
It’s simply easier for Gareth to see into the youngster than it is to try and take a look at Ben or the other seniors, Gareth thinks. He knows he’s fairly easy to read, lets people in and couldn’t really bother playing a show or tell with them – gives the people what they want; they’re his teammates anyway. Joe’s fun – there’s information down there; Gareth can sense it, perhaps something that he can dig up and toy around with and get the blushes on the tip of his nose showing. It’s those times when Ben finds himself wandering off, sticking to the Welsh-speaking members of the squad. Though few, it’s clear that they share some sort of connection, one different from that outside of the little circle they’ve created, muttering themselves in Welsh that, even if the others understand, wouldn’t be natural enough to pick it up at their pace of fluency.
Gareth’s heard Joe moan about it – how Ben has his own little friend group outside of him – and Gareth has to remind him that Ben’s old enough to have several friend groups that most likely don’t involve him, resulting in an eye roll and a few insults murmured under Joe’s breath, but for both Joe and Ben’s sake, Gareth pretends not to hear.
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It’s too natural with Gareth, Joe thinks, almost scaringly so. He knows Gareth finds it as equally fun, their presence with each other, but there’s something strange about standing next to Ben but finding his eyes always look for the man bun of Gareth. Joe knows that Ben knows – he’s one of the smartest players, maybe even people, he knows, intellectually but emotionally as well. Awfully observant, perhaps it’s just in his destiny to be a future manager. He never catches Ben, surprisingly sly, quiet and unassuming for most of the other players, but he knows Ben is always watching him. Feels his eyes burn onto the back of his head; even if the moment he turns around, try and catch him, Ben’s eyes are never there to meet his.
Maybe that’s part of the satisfaction Ben will never give, but he knows Gareth will give in, either because that’s just who he is or if he knows what Joe likes. Joe doesn’t find himself bothering with the whys of Gareth – that was far too complicated and Gareth, even if he was right in front of him, was much too far away from Joe to actually understand him. Joe knows it’s partially his fault – he’s never been the brightest, would do anything to even have an ounce of Ben’s emotional intelligence, has often complained about it to said man to only get a kiss on the cheek – but part of him, even if wrong, blames Gareth too for opening him up so easily yet never quite doing the same back. Or perhaps he is, and Joe just doesn’t have a clue, or perhaps it’s the mental block from Gareth being the captain and a Welsh legend.
What Joe is certain of, though, is the decreasing distance between the two, physically, at least. What went from casual conversations to light shoulder pats to quick hugs and suddenly Gareth has an arm around Joe’s shoulder that just won’t let go. The burn intensities, both on his cheeks but also on the back of his head, but Joe doesn’t dare turn around because if he does catch Ben’s eyes for once, he doesn’t know if his heart can handle it. He knows Ben’s frowning, somehow watching everything in front of him all this time yet choosing to acknowledge very little of it. Joe just knows.
It escalates quickly, but Joe finds that he doesn’t really mind – likes it, even, because there’s nothing in him that wants to ever push away, not Gareth. Sometimes, he sees Ben in his mind, or perhaps in the corner of his eye when he opens them, wide in shock, but his mind is hazy, and his lips are busy, and suddenly, there’s nothing but Gareth in his world. The place largens just as quickly, too; the locations change from the training ground cubicle to the bedroom in the blink of an eye, and Joe thinks he might have touched heaven, mind in bliss and with Gareth all over him, Joe finds that he can’t look away – not sure if he ever could.
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Ben isn’t sure if he can really call Joe his, and he isn’t sure if he ever will be able to; Ben acknowledges that, knows it all too well when it’s all he thinks about at night. Doesn’t think Joe ever could be his, but Ben knows he’ll hold him close for as long as he can – as long as Joe lets him. Or now, for as long as Gareth lets him, he realises. He’s known from the start, the moment Gareth laid his eyes on Joe. Ben minds, wants to tell him there are bigger fish in the pond to catch, even if for Ben, that’ll never be true, and Ben’s never been one to lie so blatantly, even for his own benefit.
Ben finds himself swaying – he likes Gareth, always will, and has a huge amount of respect for him – but suddenly, the Welsh-speaking group and its little bubble are attractive in a way it’s never been before. Ben’s always been part of it, likes using Welsh while wearing the dragon over his chest, and has some real patriotic pride that shines through, but no one in the group was really close. Team bonds were far more important than those of friend groups; it just so happened that English was the language to use.
They gossip, as a group tends to do when they have a language advantage over everyone else, and they talk about Joe and Gareth – Ben feels his own name on the tip of their tongues, but it never comes out, and Ben’s thankful even if he wouldn’t really have minded. They can be a bit loud, a bit careless, perhaps slightly forgetful that even if most of the squad can’t understand them, they certainly have the ears to, at the very least, hear their names being mentioned. Joe, for all his poor understanding of Welsh – at least according to Ben – has begged on numerous occasions to tell him what they’re talking about, what they’re discussing that would require his name be mentioned multiple names. Ben shrugs, tells him he should have studied harder in school, but he knows Joe just wants to hear it come from his mouth, to admit that Joe and Gareth are at the top of everyone’s minds.
He knows how far their relationship has escalated, refuses to comment or bring him up, but part of him wonders if Joe thinks about him when they’re in bed together, wonders about – or perhaps wants – Gareth over him instead of Ben, Gareth leaving the evidence of his existence on Joe instead of Ben, Gareth making his mark on places that used to just be Ben’s. An ugly part of him thinks Joe would far prefer Gareth – louder, stronger, better – but Ben swallows it down – always does – and finds himself less bothered whenever Joe does leave; Ben knows he always comes back. Always.
It’s weird. Ben’s no cuck – he and Joe aren’t really together, there’s no real name for what they are, no real label and no one dares to bring the topic up – but he feels a lot like one, watching the man he thinks he could spend the rest of his life with – even if it’ll never be possible – being touched, played with, loved by in such a manner. He had caught them, or at least their sounds, in the bathroom once but had made no sign of his presence, merely turning around and leaving the very moment he stepped in and had instantly noticed the sounds to be Joe’s.
Joe doesn’t make it obvious, but Gareth does – the physical contact is obvious as starters, the glow on his face brighter, and there’s a cheekiness in his smile whenever he’s in Joe’s presence. It’s once Gareth uses the same behaviour on Ben that makes it all click too fast for Ben – he wonders if Joe realises or has even bothered to look deeper into Gareth’s ultimate motive. Ben doesn’t quite let him in and finds Gareth more of a pillar in his life than anything, a constant in his life that he’ll forever admire and appreciate, but not in the way Gareth sees it. Evidently, either Gareth’s just as narrow-minded as Joe or simply doesn’t care, because he doesn’t stop either. Even Joe joins it, though Ben knows from the look on Joe’s face that he doesn’t understand what he’s getting himself involved in.
Or perhaps he does because Ben catches them in Joe’s bedroom on the night before an away qualifier. Ben suspects it’s all set up: Ben has Joe’s spare key card, always does, and just thought about checking in with him only to see Joe’s lips on Gareth’s, and Ben can’t find himself looking away. There’s no look of shock from either of them when they notice, and Gareth merely smirks and approaches Ben the same way, lips slightly agape, clearly wanting it. Ben lets him have it, doesn’t find himself bothered but not hot either, maintains eye contact with the messy-haired and wide-eyed Joe from across the room instead, who stares back the same.
Gareth takes the hint when he notices Ben isn’t feeling it, and Ben appreciates it when he does pull away, but he finds that he just can’t move away, staring at every movement, every muscle, every tattoo on Joe’s body as Gareth manoeuvres him, and Joe simply lets him. Ben thinks he’s watching too much, but his eyes are stuck on Joe and he just stands there, dumbly across the room, his mind not entirely with him, in some other distant reality that surely isn’t one where Ben’s watching Joe under Gareth. Then Gareth leaves once the business is over, nudges Ben wordlessly on his way out, and Ben finds his legs moving themselves to Joe’s bare body, watches him glassy-eyed, begging for more, and Ben – his mind still elsewhere – can’t find any part of him that wants to resist.
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The atmosphere is strange after Gareth leaves, Brennan observes. It’s after one of their home games, and it’s a draw that they feel like they should’ve taken the three points for, but they walk over to the stands and applaud the fans as always. Joe has a casual arm around Ben, nothing out of the ordinary, at least to the fans. But Brennan finds himself looking almost too intently; they’re touching each other, and Brennan could swear Ben might be leaning into Joe’s chest ever so slightly, but Brennan focuses his attention elsewhere.
He can’t help but imagine where Gareth would be in all these; where are the gaps Joe and Ben have left gaping open, in the shape of their former captain? Brennan stares at Ben’s bicep and the armband that’s tightly wrapped around it but can’t help but see Gareth in all of it. He wonders if perhaps the gap’s already closed, or perhaps it’s never existed and it’s all just the noise from his nosier teammates. But Brennan swears he’s heard Aaron during one of their previous camps mention their names together from afar that he had accidentally picked up (or perhaps his ears were listening for the existence of the trio, but Brennan ignores the possibility), and he can’t stop looking for the possibility of any voids, any blank spaces, anything that proves it was Ben, Joe and Gareth.
Brennan can swear he sees the remnants, or perhaps he’s just delusional because Gareth would just fit so perfectly – instead of Ben, it would be Gareth who would have his arm slung around Joe’s neck, maybe even tightening it, choking the blonde slightly, see how he reacts. Ben would watch and laugh endearingly, even if Brennan is pretty sure his eyes have always been fixated on Joe. Then Gareth would go to Ben once he’d played around with Joe, and Ben would react with a soft smile at the sight of Gareth. Gareth doesn’t treat Ben the same – Brennan can only suppose it has to do with age or just Ben’s personality being so different from Joe’s – but he’d take off the captain’s armband and put it around Ben, probably make a short joke about golf and retirement, but then the air would still, and Gareth would probably compliment how nice the armband looks on Ben, leaving a light pink of his cheeks that would never come out otherwise.
They just have to have happened. And perhaps that gap does exist, left gaping at the loss of Gareth, and Ben and Joe are just acting normal about it like they haven’t lost a third of themselves with Gareth.
And in his own head, Brennan entertains the thought of whether he could ever fit into that gap, have his name in the new blank space between Ben and Joe, be the body they could touch at night instead of Gareth.