The Three of Us, Together.

　The scent of lush May grass tickles Noah’s nose pleasantly. A day like this is perfect for watching his beloved partner and his beloved son play in a soccer game. It’s a sham　e his partner isn’t here, but other than that, it’s almost perfect. Noah’s heart races as he watches their son shine on the field.

The coach addresses both teams as they face each other in the center circle.

“Give it your all! Let the game begin!”

“Whoa!!! Go, go, Tom!! Go, go!!”

Suddenly, a loud shout echoes right next to the field. The coach, the kids, and all the parents who came to watch the game turn their attention to Noah, who’s already jumping up and down with excitement even before the game has started.

“Oh, s-sorry. Kick… off. Haha.”

He hurriedly covers up his embarrassment. Only Tom smiles and gives a small wave to the person who shouted. Ah, what a truly wonderful kid. Noah feels happy and sticks out both thumbs, winking at him. Next time, I should try not to shout, though.

As for the game itself… it’s typical of lower elementary school play: every time the ball is kicked, everyone around it charges forward, causing the crowd to shift with each kick—a frustratingly slow-moving affair. Hidden behind the legs of so many children, it is hard to see where the ball is going. As Noah watches with a wry smile, the ball suddenly pops out from among the sea of legs and a cloud of sand. Tom, who happens to be right there, stares down at the ball rolling toward his feet in a daze. Noah shouts at the top of his lungs.

“Now’s your chance! Tom! Let’s go!!!”

Tom snaps out of it and, with clumsy steps, begins dribbling toward the goal. Once again, the other kids charge toward the ball. Hang in there, Tom—don’t let anyone take it from you. Overcome with excitement, Noah clenches his fists.

Just as he manages to get close to the goal, the kids from the opposing team charge toward him, trying to stop him. From Noah’s perspective, the scene looks just like a pack of wolves charging after a single prey. Admittedly, they are cute wolves.

Tom kicks the ball just before the pack closes in. At that moment, everything slows down to a crawl. Just like in a movie. The ball hurtles straight toward the goal. …Or so he thinks—but it flies off in a completely different direction. Oh no. Noah clutches his head with both hands. But the ball lands right in front of a teammate who has been waiting on the opposite side of Tom. Since the pack of wolves is completely fixated on Tom, the teammate is completely unmarked. Seizing the opportunity, he fires a shot.

The ball rolls along and finds the back of the net, beautifully going the opposite way from where the goalkeeper is positioned.

“Yes! Yes! Woohoo!! Nice shot! Nice pass, Tom!!”

This time, he didn’t hold back, shouting with unbridled joy.Suddenly, a voice came from behind him.

“That’s my boy.”

A deep, resonant, comforting voice. When he turned around, the person he loved most was looking at Tom. Then he shifted his gaze to Noah.

“He’s our son, right?”

Noah teased, and Jay responded with a wink.

“You were late.”

She slipped her arm through Jay’s and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

“Yeah, but I’m glad I made it in time for the decisive moment.”

With that, the picture was complete. A Sunday where everything was perfect.

The game, as usual, consisted mostly of the players moving around in a tight cluster, but both teams still managed to score a few goals, and Tom’s team pulled off a splendid 3–2 victory.

In the end, Noah—who had cheered the loudest from start to finish—celebrated wildly to cap off the perfect day. Beside him, Jay smiled gently.

After the game, Tom ran over to them. Noah spread his arms wide and gave Tom a big hug.

“Did you see that? I did it! I didn’t get to take a shot, but I played pretty well, right?”

“You were amazing!” Noah replied with a flurry of kisses. Then he whispered to Tom.

“You were the coolest.”

“The coolest?”

“Yeah!”

Tom’s face lit up.

“Really? Did Dad think so too?” He looked up at Jay.

Jay picked Tom up until they were face to face.

“Yeah. That was a brilliant assist. Just like our boy.”

“Exactly!” Noah put his hands on both their shoulders and kissed them on the cheek, one after the other.

“Treat tonight?”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“Steak!”

“Alright.”

As the three of them headed toward the parking lot, someone called out to them.

“You must be Tom’s parents, right? I’m Michael, William’s father.”

William was the teammate who had scored the goal today from the pass that had, as it turned out, become Noah’s assist. His father was standing there with a refreshing smile, holding out his hand. He was a tall, handsome man.

“I’m Noah, Tom’s dad.”

I shook his hand. Michael was wearing chinos with a white polo shirt tucked in, and brown loafers on bare feet. He was the epitome of a clean-cut dad, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Both he and his son, William, had silky blond hair blowing in the breeze.

Noah, dressed casually in a T-shirt, checkered shirt, jeans, and sneakers, felt a slight pang of inferiority. His chestnut-brown hair was now long enough to almost touch his shoulders, so he secretly thought it was a good thing he’d tied it back and worn a cap. Otherwise, he would have had to face him with his hair all tousled from the excitement of the day.

“Tom, thank you. Thanks to you, William scored a spectacular goal.” Michael ruffled Tom’s hair.

“That was a nice shot, William.” Noah bent down to meet his eyes and congratulate him.

William smiled shyly and shook hands with Tom.

“Your cheering was wonderful, too.”

Noah felt a little embarrassed by Michael’s cheerful remark.

“I got completely carried away. I’m always like this when it comes to Tom. And this is Tom’s other dad—my husband, Jay.”

Noah introduced his partner with a shy smile.

Michael extended his hand to Jay as well, but Jay said nothing; he simply looked Michael in the eye and returned the handshake—firmly.

“Well then.”

Michael gave Noah a warm smile and walked away with Tom.

Jay kept his eyes fixed on Michael’s retreating figure and muttered under his breath, low enough that Tom couldn’t hear.

“Watch out for him.”

“Huh?”

“I just don’t like him.”

“Why? He seems like a really nice guy.”

“That’s just how he comes across to you. He’s shady.”

“No way!”

Jay glared at Noah.

“Oh, come on, Jay. Is that… jealousy?”

Grinning, she wrapped her arm around her beloved husband’s.

Jay remained expressionless.

“Anyway, just be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah, Coach.”

As they made their way toward the car, they exchanged greetings with the other parents. And Noah could feel the wives’ eyes on his partner.

Tall, with not even a hint of a belly (apparently, that’s important—at least according to his female friends), Jay had thick black hair that was slightly wavy at the back. He was always the cool, sexy dad. Not exactly a MILF, but more of a DILF. And when you’re dealing with such a rare sight—someone who’s always busy with work and hardly ever seen—it was probably almost instinctive for them to seize the opportunity and burn his image firmly into their retinas.

Noah felt a little sympathy for them, but at the same time, he couldn’t help basking in a small sense of superiority. After all, they had no idea that what was hidden beneath that flat stomach was even more impressive once Jay took his clothes off. Noah couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across his face.

But the man himself was completely oblivious to the women’s piercing stares. Jay was usually so sensitive to what Noah was thinking, yet when it came to himself, he was utterly clueless. Well, that was part of what made him so damn cool, too.

“What? Did you say something?”

“Nope.”

The three of them got into the car and headed out to pick up everything they needed for tonight’s feast.