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Chris
Needless to say, it had been kind of a difficult morning.
He had woken up to a barrage of texts and phone calls. He hadn’t answered any of them yet, though Darren still kept calling and calling – and frankly, he didn’t intend to answer them anytime soon. The Rangers PR department would probably want to talk to him first anyway, but... whoever helped him handle the situation, it was already a fucking mess.
Had he been foolish, he wondered, to trust a journalist?
The very first time they’d spoken to one another, Chris had felt it necessary to bring up this point. He had been afraid of being manipulated into a corner he couldn’t back out from, and... here he was in a corner. But had Matt done any pushing, or had they both stumbled into this together?
It did seem pretty convenient that somebody should be waiting with a camera pointed at him and Matt at the exact moment they’d said goodbye. It would be an easy thing for a reporter to arrange – especially one with the kind of resources that Sports Illustrated had under its belt. But that would be a low blow for any journalist, and clearly Matt wasn’t a low-blow kind of guy.
Speaking of which... giving Chris head was a pretty extreme end to take the lie to, if it really was just a ruse. He had seemed pretty into it last night. Admittedly, Chris was slightly distracted by being very into it himself, but it was hardly the kind of thing you could fake. Not to that degree – not without being a professional.
He certainly wouldn’t accuse Matt of that.
No; it had really seemed like their attraction was serious and mutual and real. It was just a hard obstacle to surmount that it had slipped so easily into the press, and just when Matt was due to disappear for nearly 24 hours. He hadn’t said a word to Chris so far. He may not have answered the texts and calls, after all, but he had read them, and he knew none of them came from Matt himself.
Everything in the past week had been a blur. His developing sexuality – the moment they had consummated it. The reveal. Would it really be so surprising if it had this final sting in the tail?
At least then the media might have some sympathy for him – if he’d been manipulated to that degree, that is.
In any case, he hadn’t left his apartment once today. He didn’t know how he was going to leave tomorrow – or the day after that, or the day after that. Instead, he was making his way to the refrigerator to start day drinking. He would have followed through with it too, had it not been for the sound of the buzzer.
In fact, more than that. He might have ignored the buzzer, if the voice on the other end didn’t belong to Matt.
“Hey,” he said, frantic. “Chris. It’s me. Let me up.”
A few beats of silence.
Then - “Chris? I know you’re up there. I know you’re not at the stadium. Would you let me up, please? You know this is important.”
He sighed, hanging his head slightly as he stood there in the kitchen, hand outstretched for a beer.
“Chris Knoll,” came the voice from the buzzer. “So help me God.”
“Agh,” he said, shutting the fridge and heading over the equipment. “Fine, fine.” He didn’t press the button to speak, instead just releasing the lock to allow Matt to come up in the elevator. They could talk when he got here. Admittedly, Chris didn’t really know what to say.
Could he ask outright if Matt had done this? And if he did, would the answer he received be a completely honest one?
Maybe he should call the PR unit after all.
He felt no wiser by the time Matt was stepping through his door, hair badly windswept and eyes dark with bad news. Okay – first impressions? This wasn’t something Matt had wanted. Either that meant he hadn’t arranged the leak in the first place, or it had gotten entirely out of hand.
In any case, Chris still felt like shit, so he said nothing as Matt blinked at him.
“Are you okay?” Matt asked, eventually. “Because forgive me for saying so, but you really don’t look okay.”
Chris gave him a look, retreating back to the safety of his kitchen counter. Come to think of it, maybe he would still have that beer. “Basically the worst thing that could have happened to my career has happened, before I even got a chance to think about it. So... that happened.”
At least Matt seemed to feel sorry for him. Part of Chris had anticipated some kind of pro-gay reaction – an insistence that this was somehow a good thing, because now Chris could pave the way forward for other gay athletes. After all, Chris didn’t want to lead a brigade. He had barely begun to attach himself to the label yet. He couldn’t be anybody’s hero. In fact, he may never want to be.
Quite the opposite, though. Matt followed him over to the kitchen, reaching out to stop his forearm from reaching for the beer. “I know. I felt terrible when I saw it, but... now that it’s out there, I’m still here for you. You know that, don’t you?”
Chris still couldn’t look at him, and maybe it showed. Matt sighed, his hand still on Chris’s forearm – his fingers trailing over it a little.
“I want you to know that it’s not as bad as it feels.”
“Oh, it’s not?”
The words had come out of Chris’s mouth before he could regulate them – but realistically, what Matt had said was infuriating. After a beat of guilt, Chris was right back to speaking – and this time, he didn’t think about filtering it at all. “How would you know how bad it feels, anyway? This never happened to you.”
“I’ve been outed before, and-”
“On a public scale?” Chris shot back, deadpan. “At the top of your game?”
Matt sighed, letting go of Chris’s arm to run a hand through his hair. “No, of course not, but... I know the violation of it. I know the desire to scoop it all up and put it back where nobody can see it; I know it feels like a betrayal by people you don’t even know.”
“Or people I do know.”
It was harsh, and perhaps uncalled for – but in the moment he looked up at Matt’s face, Chris knew he’d have an honest answer as to whether it was his fault or not. And there it was – half a beat later, the look of utter hurt and disappointment in Matt’s eyes.
Oh.
“You honestly think that, do you? That I somehow set this up?”
Chris folded his arms, glancing across the room, and then slowly back again. “Wouldn’t it cross your mind?” he asked, his voice a little softer now. “If the boot was on the other foot?”
“After last night?” Matt insisted. “No. It would not.”
Chris swallowed. Here came the guilt again – but accompanied with a heavy dose of fear, now. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but now it did. What if he’d just alienated the one person who definitely had his back?
There was a long silence, stretching out painfully until Chris could finally tempt himself to speak into it. “Look,” he said, softly. “Last night meant a lot to me too. I really – agh. I really like you, Matt. And that confuses the shit out of me, since I’ve never even looked at another man before, but... there’s something about you. No doubt about it. I just... it felt so coincidental, and...”
He shook his head. When he looked up, Matt had at least turned to face him again now. His big, brown eyes were deep with thought.
“I’d appreciate it if you can be patient with me,” Chris managed again, his voice gravelly now. “Feel like my life’s going to be pretty fucked up in the near future. Don’t know how the team is going to take it. I haven’t spoken to any of them yet, but... if you’re around, I think...” He sighed. “I think maybe I can handle it a little better.”
“Yeah?” said Matt.
“Yeah.” He paused, then added, “And I mean, um. I do want you, too. It’s not just – you know. Necessity. I’m... you’re something. You are. You’re special.”
He hated talking in such blatant sentimental terms, especially after such a short period of time. It felt like he was opening his chest for surgery, not knowing whether the doctor was even a competent surgeon – but as Matt’s smile broadened and he reached out to take Chris’s hand again, it felt like much less of a risk than the moment he’d spoken the words.
“I’m okay, I guess,” said Matt. “If you don’t mind a little sarcasm.”
“I suppose I don’t have much choice.”
They shared a smile, and Matt tapped with his knuckles on the counter. “Alright. So... instead of getting drunk on beer in your apartment, how about we make a few phone calls and start to actually clean this shit-show of a media day up?”
Chris winced. “Do we have to?”
“It’s only going to get worse.” Of course, Matt would know, since it was his industry – and Chris supposed it was a good attitude to take in any case. To be proactive rather than reactive, as far as possible. To address the truth head-on, and not to be ashamed of it. Chris nodded, and Matt tilted his head to continue. “We’re going to pretend you’ve been asleep all morning. You slept through your training alarm. You were about to leave when I got here and told you to look at your phone, and now... we’re dealing with it. No period of mourning or sweating. Yes?”
Chris nodded again, content to be ordered around. It was comforting, actually. He personally had no idea how to handle this, so being around somebody who did was helpful.
“But hey. Just to confirm...?”
“Yeah?”
There as a strange look on Matt’s face as he cleared his throat, gesturing with one hand. “So... you know. One hundred percent, definitely, you’re not denying the rumors. You really want to do this...?”
It felt like a momentous decision to make in such a split second. He guessed that his management would want to be consulted first – but that would take hours, and honestly? He could feel the truth of what he wanted to do right in the center of his gut. That answer wouldn’t change, no matter how long he spent consulting or taking advice. As such... well. Why bother to wait? It was his life. It wasn’t like anybody would believe a lie after they’d seen that picture anyway.
“Yeah,” he said. As soon as the word was out of his mouth, he already began to feel more sure of himself – even felt a smile spread across his face. “Yes. Let’s just do it.”
“Well, great. I’m glad to hear it. You can go ahead and get a shower or something, if you want,” said Matt, mirroring that broad smile right back at him, and slipping his bag off his shoulder. “If you leave me your phone, I can call some people back. Anybody I should skip or prioritize?”
It was like having a strange blend of a manager, a PR agent and a boyfriend. Of course, Chris liked the latter aspect best, and celebrated it by kissing the guy’s head on his way to the shower – but when he returned, clean as a whistle and feeling much better for it, he couldn’t pretend that the other aspects weren’t just as useful.
“Alright,” Matt said, prepared to summarize so far. “I’ve spoken to the team, and to your agent. I’ve spoken to your media team. Organized for the stadium’s call center to be briefed on how to handle questions about you for today. I spoke to someone at a TV station about calling in later, but I figured I’d check with you first – might be wise, though, for people to hear you talking about it naturally, happily. Not ashamed. You know?”
“You... seriously move quickly.”
Matt grinned, shifting back from the desk. “I guess so. What can I say? I like having a project.”
“I’m a project, huh?”
Chris approached Matt, eyes alight with humor and... well. Was that happiness? It seemed so bizarre that he could be so at peace after all this drama. It hadn’t all entirely gone away, after all. He was still not looking forward to calling Darren, and there were plenty of other rough situations heading his way. He was absolutely sure of that. His PR team would have a few harsh words because he hadn’t warned them about this – and he was sure they wouldn't take 'either was I’ as a reasonable answer.
There’d be obstacles, but he didn’t mind rising to meet them. That was the key difference from this morning – and the other key difference was sitting right in front of him. He leaned down to kiss his forehead, full of more fondness than he knew it was possible to feel for a fairly new person.
“I’m lucky to have you,” he murmured against his skin. That much was true, so he kissed him again, heading back off to dress properly after his shower. When he looked back over his shoulder, Matt’s eyes were still on him as he dialed another number.
Chris waited for him to start speaking until he playfully dropped the towel.
