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Matt
Well, that had been interesting. Chris may not have noticed the hostile environment around them in the locker room, but Matt was well-trained at spotting those suspicious eyes – at spotting straight men who refused to turn their fully-clothed backs on him. Presumably, they thought of him as some kind of predator – and no, not like a human one, but like an actual alien Predator, sniffing out their testosterone-flooded bodies and sensing their heat.
It was ridiculous, of course. The first second a man exhibited even a faint wind of homophobia, Matt was no longer even slightly interested. He could look like Chris Hemsworth himself – or, indeed, like Chris Knoll.
At least it seemed that the latter Chris wasn’t homophobic himself. Matt tended to leave those accusations out of his profiles, even when they were true; the last thing he wanted to do was cause more animosity towards gay people working in sports. Still, he never liked lying about it, and he certainly would have enjoyed the next three weeks less if he thought that Chris would spend every second of them feeling nervous.
In any case, having anti-gay members of the New York Rangers practically hissing at him from a distance made for an interesting tour of the facilities. He had long since grown out of being afraid of men like that. He felt like a spider. They could crush him, sure – but for some reason, all he had to do was take a few steps in their direction and they’d scatter like screaming children.
Sort of. Close enough.
He took a seat at the water bar outside of the gym facilities, enjoying the satisfaction of how quickly it cleared out the tables around him. Some people tried to be subtle, and some did not – but either way, he ended up with a nice circumference of free space in which to work. Free peace and quiet, in other words. And he hadn’t even had to chase anybody off.
As promised, Chris didn’t take long to reappear, his hair damp and a near-empty bottle of water in his hand. It seemed bizarre that they should push their athletes so hard – out of one kind of practice, and directly into another. Still, it wasn’t Matt’s place to question the routine. He was just here to learn about it.
Not appearing to notice he was approaching a pariah, Chris gave him the same warm smile as before. “Hey. You took the tour?”
“I did,” Matt confirmed, standing from the table. “It’s a nice place you guys have here. Lots of high-grade equipment. Lots of, ah... motivational posters.”
Chris didn’t seem to catch his sense of humor, running a hand through his damp hair and shrugging. “Well. There’s not much use buying all that expensive gym stuff if none of us are geared up to use it, I guess.”
“...Right.” Matt gave a bemused smile, already quite charmed by Chris’s innocence and sincerity. He had to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was tired after practice and heading directly into more cardio. While it was a stereotype to say that athletes were a little lacking in the brain department, Matt didn’t find it surprising that he wasn’t operating at peak witty repartee right now. “Straight on to your cardio, then?”
“That’s right,” said Chris, nodding towards the door of the gym and leading their path towards it. “You know how they say it’s easier to keep moving once you’re already in motion? I guess we apply that principle to motivation here.”
“But presumably you’ll ease off before the season starts – conserve your energy?”
“Yeah, somewhat,” Chris confirmed, holding the door open for Matt as he headed through it. “It’s still hard work, but... yeah. You’re right. Mid-season we save most of our hardest work for the rink.”
“Which do you prefer?”
Chris looked back at Matt. Now it was his turn to look bemused. “Mid-season, of course. Getting out there and playing often. That’s what it’s all about, right?”
“Sure,” said Matt, making a mental note. Some players lost their passion at a professional level, and proceeded with the routine just to pick up their paychecks. The off-season was much easier, and they tended to prefer it. Of course, they’d lie if you asked – but it was pretty easy to tell when people had lost their fire. Chris definitely hadn’t. “But even if you’re losing?”
“You say that like I ever lose.”
They shared a grin. Of course, it was a deliberately inaccurate brag; Chris and the Rangers had lost games in the past. However, it’d be true to say they had a good record. Last season had been particularly good, and anybody worth their salt in the world of hockey would say that Chris had formed a huge part of that record.
“I take it you’re planning on replicating last season’s success, then. You definitely think it’s sustainable.”
Chris wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. I’d rather aim to beat it than repeat it; you know what I’m saying? Seems a little apathetic to shoot for what you already know you can do. I want more than that.”
See? Athletes weren’t brain-dead – even if they said stupid things and missed out on jokes sometimes.
“Well, that’s respectable,” said Matt, stopping beside the bench that Chris was dropping his stuff at. “But to some degree, it’s going to be a harder battle than last year in the first place. Now that people know what you’re capable of in the pro leagues, they’re likely to be coming for you much stronger.”
“Tall poppy syndrome, right?”
Matt nodded, making a mental note of the phrase. It surprised him that Chris knew it; he hadn’t seemed particularly eloquent before, but this wasn’t bad for an athlete. It surprised Matt that they didn’t have Chris fronting press conferences more if he was capable of making more than a few grunted, pre-rehearsed words.
Chris shrugged, in any case, and arrived at the weights bench to sum up his options. “It happens, but I’m ready for it. I’ve grown since last year too. Don’t see any reason why I can’t hit them harder in return.”
“There’s still room to get better, then? Still unexplored potential?”
“Always,” said Chris. Matt could see this was a defining principle for him. That was significant, too. “I’ve been working on my power in the off-season. I want to be a true all-rounder, not just a strategist. That’s how you guys categorize me, right? A thinker?”
“I’d say that’s the consensus, yeah,” said Matt, leaning against a concrete pillar nearby. Chris selected one set of free-weights to start, and moved back to the bench. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, it’s probably an advantage. You can train your power; your speed. But the quality of your thinking...”
“It can be learned,” Chris said, in slight disagreement. “I think people can definitely work on it. But sure, that’s something I’ve never had to, uh – really fight for.”
“You watched a lot of hockey as a kid?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Chris stopped talking for a moment as he began his set, and so Matt took a pause too. In the perfect form of Chris’s body, there was a lot to be admired – the thick muscle of his legs, and the defined bulk of his arms. He had no intention of looking to an extent that would make Chris uncomfortable. That wouldn’t be good for rapport, but... well. It couldn’t hurt to glance.
It certainly wasn’t hurting Matt.
“Yeah, hockey’s a long-term thing for me,” said Chris eventually, his voice not strained by the weights. Clearly, he was just getting started. “Mom got dad into it when they first got together; by the time I came along, they were both obsessed. Went to my first game when I was four years old.”
“And you enjoyed it?”
“Cried the whole time, I think,” said Chris, grinning. He couldn’t turn his head to look at Matt, but Matt smiled back in any case. Chris’s confidence was obvious, and that was good for an athlete – but Matt liked it when they could be self-deprecating, too. “Games are pretty noisy for a kid, I guess.”
“Well, I’m glad you got over that.”
Chris laughed, finishing the set with ease, and sat up on the bench. “Hey, don’t talk too soon. You haven’t seen me pre-game yet.”
“I’ll bring you some earplugs,” Matt said, lips quirking into a playful smirk. “If it’s the sound that bothers you.”
“Hey,” said Chris. “Why’d I never think of that?”
Matt smiled, looking down into his bag to get his notebook out. He never recorded these early, informal interactions; it put a strain on the early relationship between subject and interviewer that he found unhelpful. Still, he needed to get some of this down so it could potentially be used if their rapport remained good. Technically, his commissioning editor preferred him not to use any quotes he didn’t have audio backup for; doing so set a dangerous ‘his word against mine’ precedent if any of said quotes were questioned by the athlete or the press once published.
Still, it was a risk he’d be content to take if it didn’t seem like Chris would sue. At the moment, he seemed too affable for anything like that.
Really attractive up close, too.
Chris returned with his next set of weights, casting a quick look at Matt as he did so. “So, listen. You’re not one of these manipulative reporters, are you? Playing nice until you get some incendiary quote out of me...?”
It was posed as a lighthearted question, but Matt could hear that there was some truth in it. It was an understandable fear, honestly; so many of Matt’s ‘colleagues’ made careers out of hunting for controversy. As such, though it did sting a bit, Matt wasn’t irritated about it.
“Listen,” he said, putting his notepad down for a second. “That kind of short-sighted bullshit is... not helpful to either of us. The most controversy I like to generate is by being myself in a wildly heterosexual environment. Beyond that, I leave it to TMZ.”
Chris gave a light smile, clearly accepting Matt’s answer – though part of it seemed to confuse him. “People really give you shit for that, huh?”
Matt snorted. “Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s water off a duck’s back; I don’t care about it. But trust me, they try.”
“I guess they just don’t see many gay people trying to play.”
Matt shook his head. “There are gay players; trust me. Statistically, they have to exist. They just don’t dare to come out. Others do come out in advance, and mysteriously aren’t taken onto the professional teams, despite their talent. Others just ‘don’t gel’ with the team. I, on the other hand, am considered either a guy who doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or a threat.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s an issue, but... hopefully one that will heal with time.”
“Well,” said Chris. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
Matt shrugged. “Like I said. It doesn’t really bother me. I’m made of tougher stuff.” He nodded at Chris as he started his set. “Like yourself.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
They fell into silence again as Chris began the more difficult set, and once again Matt let his eyes trail over the frame of the handsome, strong player. There really was a lot to be admired in his physique, on a professional level as well as an aesthetic one.
Unfortunately, he didn’t catch sight of Darren Schloss watching the pair of them through the gym’s glass front.
