Off the ice, p.12
Off the Ice, page 12
Maybe that could have been Chris, too, if Matt hadn’t been around to guide him through the realization.
“Let me up, you fucking faggot – I’ll fucking kill you...”
Though the word was still harsh, it didn’t hurt or offend Chris nearly as much as it had a few days prior. On some level, Chris knew, it wasn’t him that Darren was calling a faggot. That level of self-loathing and uncertainty was nothing he’d wish on another human being – even one that had just punched his boyfriend. Make no mistake. There were still flickers of anger in his stomach as he thought about that, and he could feel his grip getting a little tighter as he pictured Matt’s bloodied nose.
After all, even the greatest internal struggles couldn’t excuse that kind of violence against an innocent party.
Though he was afraid of what he’d see, Chris looked over his shoulder to try and find Matt in the crowd. It seemed that some of his teammates had stepped in to pull him out of the reach of the fray – but he hadn’t gone far. He was close enough that Chris could meet his eyes easily from the edge of the ring.
I hope you’re okay, he thought.
Even if Matt couldn’t hear him, he wanted that out into the universe – as though it might somehow encourage it to be the truth.
When security finally arrived to take over, Chris stepped back in a daze. It didn’t feel good to see his old friend dragged off to the security office. It didn’t even feel good to watch the moment he slumped and stopped struggling as their thick arms lifted him from the floor and dusted off his clothes.
He didn’t move from the spot he was standing in until Darren was firmly out of sight. Even then, he didn’t move far – just took a few steps towards the edge of the ring that had formed around the fight, cupping Matt’s face softly with one hand.
“Okay?” he asked.
“I’m alright.”
Chris didn’t believe Matt in the slightest, especially seeing his bloody nose up close. Still, he resolved not to say anything, instead brushing his thumb over the soft skin of Matt’s cheek. “Better get that checked up.”
“I will,” Matt assured him. “I think somebody’s coming now. First aid, or... something.”
“Hey, listen, uh... I’m really sorry I ended up fighting again. I swear this doesn’t happen all that often.”
He was expecting to see the disappointment in Matt’s eyes when he looked up – but when Chris actually did meet his boyfriend’s eyes, what he saw there was pride and affection instead.
“You’re good,” Matt told him. It felt like he meant it in more ways than one. “I’m really glad you were close.”
“Why were you even here in the first place?” Chris asked, eyes scanning over Matt quickly to check for more damage. The nose had taken up so much of his attention that he had barely stopped to think about whether there might be anything else. “Weren’t you meant to be at the Sports Illustrated office today? Were you coming to see me?”
“Actually-” Matt started, bu the was cut off by the arrival of the first aid team. “Oh – okay. I’d better-”
“Yeah,” said Chris, letting go of Matt to let the experts take him. “I’ll be here. Somewhere. When you’re done.”
Matt smiled at him as they led him away, even keeping his eyes fixed on Chris as he answered the first aid officer’s questions. It was such an intense look that Chris found himself incapable of looking away, even as the crowd started to shift around him – even as Greg arrived and asked to speak with him privately.
Only once Matt was physically out of his line of sight did he turn and focus on the ground in front of him. One step after the other. One more. One more. And they’d keep going until that moment sometime in the future when they led him right back to Matt again.
Hopefully, that moment would not be too far away. Not after this.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Matt
Once Chris disappeared out of his sight, Matt suddenly felt a little less safe. Even with the first aid officer fussing around him and the four walls of the medical room keeping him secure, his entire body still felt tensed and ready to deal with potential threats. His heart was still pounding in his chest, for one thing – and he could already feel the cold sweat drying on the back of his neck.
What Darren Schloss had even been doing here, Matt had no idea. He guessed he should have known that this might happen. It would neither be the first time nor the last that a disgruntled employee turned up to protest the way they’d been handled after an incident. That wasn’t a nice thing – but sadly, it was true.
The sound of Greg’s voice startled him out of his reverie, a stark and focused contrast against the soft rattle of the first aid officer’s background chatter.
“Matt, I can’t apologize enough.”
The poor man did look like he’d lost five years of his life over the space of the past fifteen minutes. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting Darren to come back either.
Based on the flustered expression on his face, Matt felt that somebody should be sitting Greg down on a stretcher and making him drink high-glucose water – not Matt.
“Honestly, I just... I never thought anything like this would happen on our property. Or at all. Clearly our security team has seriously failed you, so-”
“Greg,” Matt interrupted, with a soft smile. “It’s fine.”
Greg shook his head firmly. “Oh, absolutely not. It is not fine. You came here to speak about protecting our team and our fans from homophobia, and here you are recovering from a homophobic attack – on our grounds, and by one of our players. It’s inexcusable. It’s...”
“Please,” Matt insisted, jumping into the silence as Greg tried to decide what else it was, other than inexcusable. “I’m not angry. This isn’t anybody’s fault but Darren’s, and... even he doesn’t exactly seem in control of his faculties right now.”
“No,” Greg agreed, a note of sadness – or disappointment? – in his tone. “Agh. Frankly, I feel like I let him down too. We should really be looking out for our players. Getting suspended is a big shock to the system; I should have known he might struggle to cope with that.”
“You can’t take all of this on your shoulders,” Matt assured him. “I mean. I appreciate your concern, but the apologies really aren’t necessary. We’re all okay.”
“We are,” said Greg. “Thank God.”
Matt could see the ghosts of what might have happened flash across Greg’s face – the worst-case scenarios that so many people had come to be afraid of in this day and age. For as horrible as this incident had been, it could have been so much worse. They had to be thankful for that. Unfortunately, it seemed like it might take a while for Greg to get to that line of thinking.
For now, he just needed to be proactive – and Matt could understand that. He felt much the same way when things went wrong.
Mostly, he just wanted to be with Chris right now.
“Listen,” said Greg, finally looking up to meet Matt’s eyes again. Aha – would this be the moment they released him, so he could finally have his wish? It felt like it had been hours since he’d first stepped into this room to have his nose checked out, even if it had only been minutes in reality. “I hate to ask about this now, but... I really hope this doesn’t prevent you from wanting to come on board, like we discussed. Now more than ever, I think we could really benefit from your expertise to prevent something like this from happening again. Not just here, but in other clubs. I mean... I really want to turn it around. Make an example of this, if we have to.”
“That’s a noble ambition,” said Matt. “And – yes, I am still interested. I’m a reporter, you know; you can’t scare me off an opportunity this easily.”
Greg gave him a weak smile, adjusting his thick wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose. “Well. I’m very glad to hear that. I think it’s safe to say I can formally offer you the position at this point... as though we ever had any other interviewees.” He paused. “Of course, if you could refrain from mentioning to the board that I told you that...”
Matt mimed a cross over his heart. “Scout’s honor.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And I-”
At that, however, a quiet knock interrupted them. As the door opened, warmth and relief flooded through Matt’s system, just as effective as if he’d been given an intravenous painkiller. Chris’s handsome face, thick with concern, peered in through the doorway – though the concern soon faded out to a soft smile of relief as he saw Matt’s mirrored back at him.
Greg glanced between them, picking up a small smile of his own. “...And I guess we’ll finish this conversation later,” he said to Matt, reaching out with his hand. “Happy to have you on the team.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Matt assured him. Granted, most of his attention was on a very confused-looking Chris – but it wouldn’t take long to fill him in. Right now, every cell in Matt’s body was shivering in Chris’s direction, just waiting for the moment that he’d reach Matt’s side. Then, after what felt like an age, there he was – his hand warm and strong on Matt’s shoulder, pulling him close.
“If it isn’t my wounded soldier,” said Chris. “The newbie college hockey player look, huh? Suits you.” He reached out to gently tap the free patch of skin just beside the Band-Aid on Matt’s nose. “I think it’ll catch on.”
“Jerk,” said Matt, with none of the assertiveness required to give that word its power. “How about you? How are you holding up?”
“Couple of cuts and bruises,” said Chris, holding up his palms to show where the surface of the skin had been worn away. It looked nasty – but it had, at least, been cleaned and treated. “Nothing too major.”
“My hero.”
They grinned at one another, Matt sparing a moment to nod at Greg as he made his exit. Chris followed his progress out of the room just like Matt did, nodding after him to launch his question. “So – what’s all that about?”
“I guess I’m now the official LGBT liaison to the Rangers,” said Matt. “Dealing with all relevant PR and training.”
“Really?”
Matt shrugged one shoulder, a smile pricking up the corners of his lips as he saw how happy Chris was with the news. “Really. I guess it means I’ll be sticking around the area for a little while, though, so... if you know anybody with space in their apartment, you can let them know I’m looking.”
“I will surely let them know.”
Silence fell back over the room as the first aid officer bustled back in, smiling politely at both Chris and Matt as she continued to tidy up the space.
“D’you know?” she said. “There are people saying they’re going to kick Schloss permanently off the team.”
“That’s what I heard,” Chris agreed. “I guess there’s not much else they could do, after that.”
“Mm,” said the first aid officer. “Quite right. I can’t imagine what he was thinking.”
“No,” Matt agreed – but he was surprised to see Chris glance quickly away, as though he did. Strange. Matt figured he’d heard every bit of the conversation they’d shared. He wasn’t standing that far away. Had he really missed something that big? But as he glanced up with curious eyes at Chris, he saw his boyfriend give him the faintest shake of the head.
Not now, he figured that meant. I’ll tell you later.
The fact that there even was a later was enough to sate Matt’s curiosity for the time being. He simply sat up straighter to let the first aid officer do her final checks, and felt the loss of Chris’s arm around him as soon as it left.
With luck, the officer would release him from her care after this, and then they could go home to decompress.
He’d never felt so tired after so little of the day had passed before.
Then again, he’d never been punched directly in the nose before, so... he supposed there was a first time for everything.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chris
After last night, Chris had been hard-pressed to imagine spending time alone with Matt without wanting to fuck him senseless. It felt like they wouldn’t be able to relax together without screwing for at least a couple of months. Right now, however, all of that was out of the window. Collapsed together in a pile on the couch and hemmed in by the softest blanket they could find in Chris’s self-confessed austere, modern pit of a home, neither of them was particularly keen to move again.
No – not even for sex.
Matt’s body was warm and comfortable against his, and with Toddlers and Tiaras on the TV in front of them, Chris figured it would take a mountain to move them. In fact, he could fully imagine them falling asleep here tonight, too bothered by the concept of moving to bed to actually attempt it.
“I think I might just die here,” he admitted into Matt’s hair, eyes unfocused on the screen. “I’m so wiped out.”
“You’re not allowed,” Matt told him. “We haven’t had enough time together yet.”
“How long?”
Matt wrinkled his nose, summoning up a playful answer. “At least two years.”
“Fine, then,” Chris said, clearing his throat to correct himself. “I think I might just die here in two years’ time. That’s how wiped out I am, with deference to your future plans.”
“Appreciated,” said Matt, suppressing a yawn. “That’s a lot of dedication, though. Are you sure you’re ready to commit for the next two years?”
“I’m ready to commit to this couch,” he said. “If you’re on the couch too, then I guess my decision has bee made for me.”
“We might have to move sometimes,” Matt pointed out playfully. “You know. To eat. To piss. That kind of thing.”
“Debatable.”
“Not really.”
Matt turned in to nestle against his arm, so close that Chris could feel the shape of Matt’s smile forming against his arm. They had stripped off just enough of their clothes to be comfortable, and his shirt had fallen victim to that cull; in other words, Matt’s lips were pressed directly against his skin in some kind of permanent, passive kiss.
“You know I really like you,” Chris said, after a couple of beats. “I mean... all joking aside. You do know that, right?”
“For the next two years?”
“Sure,” said Chris, feeling emboldened by the fact that he didn’t have to directly meet Matt’s eyes right now. “Longer, even.”
The silence went on for just long enough to start making Chris nervous. Had he said too much? Had he pushed it too far?
“I’m glad about that,” said Matt. “I mean... nobody can predict the future. I usually don’t like it when people make these kinds of promises so soon, but... it feels that way. It really, really does.”
Chris smiled, closing his eyes for a moment and drowning out the sound of the TV. Instead, he focused on the sound of Matt’s breathing beside him – on the slow rise and fall of his chest that Chris could feel by proximity.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so protective of another human being as I did today,” Chris admitted. “When I saw he’d hurt you. When I thought he might do it again.”
“Hero complex, huh?”
“Maybe,” Chris said, nuzzling into Matt’s hair and smiling even though he recognized the tease. “I guess so. But... I don’t know. Not that I haven’t cared about the other people I’ve dated. Obviously I did. I just... I felt so... carried away.” He shook his head, rejecting the phrasing; it wasn’t strong enough. A beat later, he tried again. “I felt like I didn’t have control of myself. I thought if he hit you again I might lose my mind.”
“I’d say the same to you,” said Matt, “but you’re so big I barely have to worry about you.” He accompanied it with a light squeeze of Chris’s bicep, craning his neck up to give Chris a light smile when he briefly opened his eyes. “It surprises me every time you manage to be gentle like this.”
“Yeah?” said Chris. “Do I seem like a monster to you?”
“Not a monster,” Matt said. “Just... so strong.” Matt’s fingertips traced over the shape of Chris’s muscles, pausing as he flexed and relaxed. “Not that strong people can’t normally be gentle, of course. I don’t know. I just... like it. I like how tender you are right now.”
There was a beat of silence, then Matt continued.
“I mean. I like it when you’re not tender, too.”
Chris grinned, leaning his head back against the couch. “Is that right?”
“Sure is.”
Those fingertips traced sensual circles for a couple of seconds, prodding at a side of Chris that was too tired to flare up entirely – but then they went back to drawing their ordinary shapes again, neatly shifting between sex and sensitivity.
“I think I like pretty much every part of you, actually.”
Chris’s body felt like it was lighting up at that compliment, every cell in his body practically glowing at the thought that Matt Tucker valued it. He believed it, too. Matt was too honest and too careful with his words to use any that he didn’t mean. If he said every part, then he meant it.
That was a powerful feeling.
A heartbeat later, he realized that there was a significant silence hanging in the air – and jolted back into action.
“Oh – shit. Sorry. Yeah, I mean... me too. You. Every part of you.”
Matt snorted, reaching up to card his fingers through Chris’s hair. Chris closed his eyes again, submitting to the warmth of that kind of touch. Sometimes, a touch like that could be more intimate than sex.
“You’re cute, Knoll,” he said, still ruffling his hair softly. “You’re not the brightest, but you’re definitely cute.”
“Shut up; I’m tired,” Chris protested playfully, shifting down in the couch a little so that Matt could reach his hair more easily. “And for the record, I have talents other than academic prowess.”
“Feel free to list them.”
“Pretty good at making breakfast,” said Chris. “I’m alright at Candy Crush. Good with my hands.”
