Chapter Twenty-Four

BEING WITH ELI is easy.

They eat in companionable silence, and then Alex closes the bedroom shades and strips to his boxers and crawls under the duvet cover, and Eli follows him without being asked. Alex is bigger than Eli. Usually he likes that, but right now, he just wants to be held—not that he would admit it, doesn’t think he could even begin to ask for it. But Eli seems to know anyway. He arranges them so Alex’s head is on his chest and Eli’s arms are around his shoulders, and then Bells curls up in the small of his back and Hawk stretches out on top of their feet, and Alex closes his eyes because yes.

This is what he needed.

The static hum of anxiety dissipates a little under Eli’s careful hands, under the soft drag of his fingers across Alex’s skin, the little patterns he draws between the freckles on Alex’s shoulders. And surrounded by warm cotton and steady breathing and the hush of gentle afternoon kindness, Alex falls asleep.

When he wakes up, Eli’s arms are still loosely around him, but his head has shifted off Eli’s chest and onto the bed beside it, so Alex’s face is mashed into the side of Eli’s ribcage. He’s drooling a little. It’s great.

He presses his mouth against Eli’s skin because it’s right there, and he can. And then he bites, gently, because…well, he wants to.

Eli’s formerly slack fingers curl into his hair but don’t pull him away. He makes a soft noise that Alex feels a little proud to be responsible for.

“Hey,” Alex says, “is it okay if I leave a mark?”

The fingers in his hair tighten. “Knock yourself out.”

He takes his time leaving a hickey, then rolls onto his back and shuffles up the bed, grinning.

“Feeling better?” Eli asks, turning on his side to face Alex. He props his head up on one hand, looking a little flustered, opposite palm pressed to the mark Alex just left.

It’s a good look.

“Much better,” Alex agrees.

“You want to talk about practice?”

And the really, really cool thing is Alex is pretty sure he could say “no,” and Eli would drop it.

“Matts was being ignorant and said some stupid shit, and then Rushy came out.”

“Rushy is gay?” Eli says, scrambling into a seated position like the situation is urgent. “I thought he was crazy in love with his girlfriend.”

“Bi.”

“Oh. Right. There I go with binary thinking. Jeff would be appalled.” Eli glances toward the door like he’s expecting Jeff to barge in right that moment to chastise him. “Wait, you said he came out. On the ice or in the locker room?”

“Locker room. Matts looked pretty embarrassed afterward, so maybe it’ll be okay. Most of the guys were cool. I mean, everyone loves Rushy. He’s like sunshine in human form.”

“He’s not coming out publicly, though, right?”

“Not now. He, uh, offered though.”

Eli just looks at him.

Alex licks his lips. “I told him about me. After practice. He said if I decide to go public, he’ll come out first. As, like, a stepping stone?”

“Bisexual goalie with a steady girlfriend is a lot easier to digest than gay prodigy captain.”

“With a boyfriend,” Alex agrees. “Yeah. That’s what Rushy said. I still can’t believe he would do that for me. It would make things easier, probably.”

Eli doesn’t respond, and Alex glances up at him, then does a little crunch to sit up as well, slinging his elbows around his knees.

“What?” Alex asks.

“Is—are we boyfriends?”

“Oh. Uh. Yes? Do you not—?”

“No, I do. We just hadn’t had that conversation yet, so.”

“What conversation?”

“The one where we used that word?”

“I said I’d maybe come out for you. We had that whole, like, super mature discussion.”

“Well, I didn’t know! I’ve never done this before, and we only kissed for the first time, like…forty-eight hours ago. I’m trying not to be, you know, clingy or whatever.”

“Pretty sure I’m the clingy one, and I think it’s closer to seventy-two hours now.” He reaches for Eli, bottom lip jutted out. “Come here.”

“Oh my god, Alex.”

Eli leans forward, though, and Alex gently tackles Eli back into a position that might be called “lying.” He takes a moment to arrange their untidy pile of limbs, throwing a leg over Eli’s hip, cinching their bodies together.

“See?” he says smugly. “I’m the clingy one.”

“Literally,” Eli says into his neck.

“I refuse to apologize.”

“So. Boyfriends.”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m serious about this. I want you to be mine. Not in a creepy possessive way.”

Eli coughs.

“Okay, maybe a little bit possessive, but I would be yours too. We’d be, uh, each other’s?”

Alex really is a walking disaster, but Eli’s grinning up at him, so clearly, he didn’t fuck that up too badly.

“Yeah. I understand. I’d like that too.”

“Good,” Alex says, relieved. “So Jeff has some private rink time tonight that he can’t use because he’s still in the boot. But he wants to try out an ice sled if we’re willing to go too. Want to join him and be grossly romantic?”

“I’d love to. I have to finish my government paper first though.” Eli makes a face. “Finals are only two weeks away, and I need to start studying this weekend.”

Alex winces. “Okay. Do you think we have time to make out for a couple minutes first?”

“I dunno.” Eli pretends to look at the nonexistent watch on his wrist. “I’m pretty strapped. No more than five minutes.”

Alex nods seriously, reaching for his phone.

“I’ll set a timer.”

 

SKATING AT THE rink after official close makes it feel like winter, which is a rare feeling in Houston. Alex isn’t sure what it is, but he likes it, the nighttime cold, the dim echoey hallways, the Christmas music over the PA system—left on from family free skate earlier that evening—that Eli and Jeff insist they don’t change.

Alex gives Eli “checking lessons” that mostly involve him gently running Eli into the boards and hugging him until one or both of them dissolves into giggles. Eli tries to teach him how to do a basic spin that involves even more falling than the “checking lessons” and about the same amount of muffled laughter.

Jeff despairs of them, but gets pretty good at maneuvering his borrowed sled around and coaxes Eli into showing him pieces of the new routine he’s working on for the regional competition in January. Alex’s schedule might permit him to attend it, too, if he can get permission to skip a morning practice. He hasn’t talked to Coach yet, though. He needs an excuse other than “I want to go watch my boyfriend at a figure skating competition.”

They pack up before the Zamboni driver can kick them out at 10:30. Jeff, bemoaning a distinct lack of Jo at his home—she had to take a trip back to Dallas—invites himself over to spend the night with Alex.

It’s not unusual. In fact, more often than not, Jeff spends the night in Alex’s guest room when Jo is out of town because he’s the most extroverted person to ever extrovert and hates being alone. But Jeff still hasn’t caught on that Eli and Alex are officially together, even though they’ve been, Alex thinks, painfully obvious. The last thing he wants is to keep up this are-we-aren’t-we thing for the rest of the night when it’s one of the few nights he’ll have with Eli before they’re on the road again. That, and he just really wants to talk to his best friend about his boyfriend, and he can’t if his best friend doesn’t know about his boyfriend.

“I don’t think he’s getting it,” Alex says when he and Eli are back in the car again. “Which is ridiculous. I’m not sure how much more obvious I can be.”

“Well. I guess we need to up our game?” Eli says.

“I’m not sure how to do that aside from, like, straight up making out in front of him.”

“That works.”

He’d been joking, but… “Yeah. Okay.”

They disobey a few speed limits to make sure they get back to Alex’s place before Jeff and have a very unsexy conversation about where they plan to get “caught.”

They’re still arguing about it when they hear the uneven stride of Jeff’s Aircast in the hallway.

They freeze, Eli still gesturing toward the couch, and Alex just…picks Eli up and puts him on the island.

“Good plan,” Eli mutters, cinching his legs around Alex’s waist, and by the time Jeff has fumbled the door open, Alex has one hand up the back of Eli’s shirt and his tongue shoved into Eli’s mouth.

The door clicks shut.

“Oh my god,” Jeff says faintly.

And then, with unholy glee: “Oh my god!”

And then, moments later, with concern: “Oh my god.”

Alex and Eli dissolve into laughter.

“Do you need a minute?” Alex asks.

He tries to turn and face Jeff, but Eli’s legs are still tight around him, and when he looks back at Eli, hands sliding down to cup the thighs bracketing his waist, he gets distracted.

Eli is still laughing and looking at him like—like Alex is something important. Eli licks his bottom lip, tongue followed by his upper teeth. He sits there, biting his lip and looking at Alex, and Alex feels so much. And it’s stupid. To feel this much this soon. It’s stupid and reckless and amazing, and Alex has to swallow down whatever words want to accompany this unexpected emotional upheaval. He didn’t think it was possible to feel so vulnerable and indestructible simultaneously.

“No,” Jeff says. “I don’t need a minute, but I think you might.”

Eli collapses into Alex’s chest, laughing again, and Alex wraps his arms around him and puts his face in Eli’s hair, and it’s all very histrionic.

Jeff sighs, then moves to sit at the bar. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says magnanimously.

Hawk happily leans against his leg, nudging his hand with her nose for pets.

Bells uncurls from her place on the counter to show Jeff her butt, then settles in exactly the same place, this time facing away from him.

This doesn’t help Alex, who’s trying to stop his slightly hysterical laughter.

“So,” he says, still wrapped around Eli. “I have a boyfriend.”

“No kidding,” Jeff says. “Who?”

Eli lets go of Alex to flip him off.

They separate, a little regretfully, at least on Alex’s part, but Alex keeps one arm around Eli as he slides off the counter.

“How long?” Jeff asks.

“Only a couple of days,” Eli says.

“Since the night Eli got back,” Alex clarifies.

“Not to be that person,” Jeff says. “But have you two talked about this? I mean, I’m happy for you, don’t get me wrong, but…”

“Yes,” Alex says, maybe a little too sharply. “And I’ve talked to Anika about it. Twice.”

Eli drags his palm from the small of Alex’s back to the tight space between his shoulder blades, then back again.

“Sorry,” Alex says before Jeff has a chance to respond. “Just. Yes.”

“Okay.” Jeff spins his phone on the table. “Who knows?”

“You. And Rushy. I told him after practice today, sort of on accident. I want to tell Kuzy too.”

“Okay. You planning to come out to the team?”

“Not yet. Eventually though. If things—if I have a reason. I’m talking to my agent tomorrow.”

Eli’s hand, still moving restlessly up and down his spine, stills.

“Management?” Jeff asks.

“Probably next week once we’re back from the roadie.”

“That’s fast,” Eli says quietly.

“They need to be prepared. Just in case.”

“Well,” Jeff says. “I’m here for you. Both of you. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, man.”

“When are you planning to tell Kuzy?”

Alex glances down at Eli. “Uh. You want to invite him over now?”

Kuzy arrives twenty minutes later with pastries from his Russian cafe.

When he sees Eli and Alex on the couch holding hands, however, his face goes dark. “Alex,” he says as he puts the bag on the counter. “I need to talk with you. Alone.”

Alex and Jeff exchange concerned looks, but Eli…starts laughing.

Kuzy’s expression goes from something like anger to complete bafflement.

He’s not the only one.

“Uh. Eli?” Alex says.

“Sorry,” he says. “Oh god, I’m sorry. It’s—he thinks you’re breaking my heart leading me on or something. Dmitri, we’re together. Alex and I. We’re together.”

“Together,” he repeats, arms crossed.

“Like. Dating?” Eli says.

“Boyfriends,” Alex adds. Because he likes the word.

“They got their heads out of their asses,” Jeff supplies, ever helpful.

“You talk?” Kuzy asks Alex, still looking suspicious. “Eli tell you—” He pauses, face squinching up in annoyance. “English worst. You know feelings now? Both?”

“Yeah,” Eli says. “We’ve had a couple talks. We know how each other feels.”

“Okay.” Kuzy’s still frowning at Alex a little, but at least he uncrosses his arms. “Eli’s sad, when I’m take him to airport. Because you touch him, sweet for him, always, but not together. I’m see you hold hands, and I’m think I have to—” He gestures between Alex and himself, frowning. “—sit. Talk, uh—sense?”

“To talk some sense into him?” Eli supplies.

“Yes. I think I’m have to talk some sense into him.”

“Well,” Eli says. “I appreciate the thought, but it’s not necessary.”

“Good.” Kuzy retrieves the pastry bag from the counter and moves to join the three of them, except there’s not enough room for four adult men on Alex’s couch, especially not when three of them are NHL players, and two of them are over six foot tall.

It quickly devolves into a wrestling match because, yes, Alex is fully capable of admitting they are all overgrown children. After several minutes of Kuzy chirping them gleefully in Russian and Jeff’s occasional yell of “Hey! Watch the leg!” Alex finds himself winded on the floor, looking up at Eli who wisely removed himself from the fray and is now sitting on the loveseat. He’s holding the pastry bag on his lap, licking his fingers. He pulls a tiny glazed scone thing out and takes a bite that is definitely judgmental, one eyebrow raised.

Jeff and Kuzy have more or less given up, each sprawled with their heads against opposite couch arms, occasionally kicking weakly at each other. Jeff has the upper hand because Kuzy is trying to be gentle with Jeff’s injured leg, while Jeff is using his Aircast like an expensive weapon.

Alex crawls onto the love seat with Eli and eats the scone thing out of his hand, purposely messy, while clambering over his lap and into the space next to him.

“Oh my god,” Eli says, wiping his spitty hand on Alex’s shirt. “Are you twelve?”

“Twelve inches,” Alex says.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

“It’s not,” Kuzy and Jeff say simultaneously.

Alex glowers. “I’m telling Coach to trade y’all.”

“Y’ALL?” Jeff repeats gleefully.

Alex hides his face in Eli’s neck.

Eli pats his cheek consolingly.

He presses a discreet little kiss to the soft skin at the base of Eli’s throat and keeps his mouth there, smiling, because this––this is exactly what he thought he’d never have.

“Hey,” Jeff says. “Alex, stop slobbering on Eli and share the goods. Can we turn on the Rangers game?”

Eli tosses the bag to Kuzy, who then instigates another minor war with Jeff, pretending he’s not going to share. Eli laughs softly, leaning into Alex, and Alex wraps an arm around his chest, anchoring them more fully together, dropping another kiss to the short, wispy hair—desperately trying to curl but not quite long enough—behind Eli’s ear.

“Hey,” Alex whispers, and Eli shifts to look back at him, still smiling from Kuzy and Jeff’s antics.

“Hey,” he agrees.

And it’s—

Good.

Perfect.