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Away game in Miami.
Time to check out their golf courses.
That's what Austin does. All the time. He's been to every golf course in LA. And he makes sure he's gonna hit at least one per away game.
"If time permits," Austin says, sliding his irons into the bag.
Today, they decided to be on the range.
"You're really obsessed huh," Luka teases.
"The whole team clowned me for it," Austin shrugs. "Now they're all on it."
Luka laughs. "Okay. Prove it. Show me what makes this sport interesting."
Austin grins, handing him a driver. His fingers brush Luka's. He pretends it doesn't make his heart race every time it happens. "You first. Show me what those athletic genes can do."
Luka takes the iron from his hands and steps up, the ball sitting perfectly on the tee. He sets his stance and breathes out slowly then swings while Austin watches closely.
And Austin does… watch him. And stares. He swallows hard, trying to focus.
"Your swing looks natural for someone who just started," Austin says.
"Really?" Luka tilts his head.
"Here," Austin says, and steps closer than necessary for a simple lesson. "Let me adjust your grip, so you can feel the proper placement."
He shows him, his hands on Luka's, demonstrating the finger placement.
The warmth of his skin...
Luka tries, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue pokes out slightly as he focuses.
He's so… endearing.
Austin's hand drifts from the demonstration to rest on Luka's waist to guide his hip rotation. He feels the warmth of him beneath his palm. His heart stutters when Luka doesn't pull away. The touch lingers a moment too long and…
"Austin?" Luka asks, noticing Austin had zoned out.
"I-I'm sorry," Austin says, heat rushing to his cheeks. He pulls his hand back. "Just wanted to make sure you had the right feel."
Luka adjusts his hands, following Austin's instruction. His fingers settle into the grip with confidence.
"Is this good?" Luka asks. Austin holds his breath, so aware of how close they are. He curses himself silently.
"Yes. That's… that's good," Austin says, trying to sound normal.
Luka nods, then turns back to the range. He swings and connects, sending the ball soaring into the golden sky. Luka brings a hand up to shield his eyes, following the ball's trajectory as it carries nearly three hundred yards before dropping.
"That was incredible. Seriously impressive distance," Austin says, genuine admiration bleeding into his voice.
"So, do I get a passing grade?" Luka asks with a self-satisfied smirk.
It does dangerous things to Austin's self-control.
Every time Luka breathes deeply, shifts and moves, his eyes narrowing on the ball, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, these small things make Austin's knees weak.
"Hit the next one with a steeper angle. Then we'll call it perfect."
Luka addresses the ball. He settles into his stance, his form more natural than anyone would believe. He swings smoothly, sending another ball rocketing down the range.
"I nearly lost my balance," Luka admits. "But I think I'm getting it."
"Yes, you did lose your balance. But your form was flawless," Austin says.
Luka continues, while Austin watches. As the sun dips lower, Luka had hit 400 balls, his consistency improving with every swing, his confidence growing.
"This is genuinely one of the most satisfying things I've done in a while," Luka says, his chest heaving. "Careful. I might do better than you."
Austin laughs, bright and unguarded. "You wish."
Luka just grins, the challenge clear in his eyes. He turns back to the range, hitting more balls. Austin's focus is all on Luka now, too much to track the ball anymore.
They've been there for hours. Then they take a break, watching the sunset.
"The first thing I'll do when we get back to LA is get a Riviera membership," Luka says.
"Yes. That would be a fantastic addition to your schedule if you're serious.”
"Isn't that your club?"
"No. I'm in Hillcrest," Austin says.
"Can I join you there instead?" Luka asks, his shoulder brushing Austin's as he shifts closer. Austin feels his composure crack. He nods before he can second-guess himself.
"Consider it done. I'll have the membership coordinator reach out to you. I'll make sure you get the full tour when you visit. I'll send you the invite," Austin promises, his voice too eager, but he can't bring himself to care.
"That would be perfect," Luka smiles.
They finish their time at the range, then leave slowly, neither ready for the night to end.
"I now understand," Luka says. "Why you love golf."
"Finally, you get it."
"It's like, you cannot live without it."
That makes Austin smile, because deep inside him, is something he wants to say but couldn't:
And, I cannot live without you.