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Chris
It had been a very productive practice out on the ice. Their first alternate had done a great job of picking up where Darren had left off, and with one hundred percent less attitude accompanying it. It was nice to have some fresh blood on the team. Either that, or maybe he was just in a really good mood. Last night had been such a revelation. Every time he and Matt spent the night together, it only made him more certain that they were really supposed to be together.
It put a shit-eating grin on his face on the way to the showers. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, ready to text Matt and ask where he was – and was surprised to find himself intercepted by one of his teammates.
“Parking lot outside,” said James, looking flustered. “Darren’s here. He’s with your Matt.”
It put such a shudder of fear through him that Chris didn’t even have time to feel good about hearing him say ‘your’ Matt. He could tell from the tone of James’s voice that things weren’t going smoothly, and he could imagine exactly how bad things could get between Darren and Matt. Matt wouldn’t stand a chance of defending himself physically against that kind of muscle – and who knew what Darren’s intentions were?
Even if he just yelled at him, that would still be too much.
Without pausing, he dashed off outside, thanking James over his shoulder. In the parking lot, James had said? That wasn’t far. He’d be there within a couple of moments. Nothing terrible could happen in a matter of moments.
Could it?
By the time he got outside, navigating quickly through a small crowd of his teammates, he could see that Darren was rounding on Matt. That would be bad enough by itself – but as Chris neared the front of the crowd, he saw that Matt’s nose was already bloody.
He’d never felt so angry in his life before.
“Schloss,” he called out, the challenge already violent and obvious in his voice. All thoughts of reducing his aggression were gone; the discussion he had the other day with Matt had completely disappeared. Sure, he had accepted it at the time. He couldn’t go around punching people because they were assholes, even if they were homophobic assholes. Now that Matt was in danger, though, he couldn’t even think to summon that logic up. Even if he had, there would be no moderating himself.
His instinct was to protect. End of.
Darren’s face was like thunder. It almost looked like he’d been drinking, if Chris was reading him right – the redness in his eyes, and the slight wilting in his expression. He’d sunk down farther than Chris thought if that was the case, but they could deal with that later. Right now, he just wanted his attention away from Matt.
“What?” said Darren, his voice slurring already. Yep – he was definitely drunk. “Your little girlfriend ain’t man enough to talk to me himself?”
“Doesn’t look like you’re equipped to do much talking right now,” Chris insisted, trying to circle Darren around away from Matt. “Did you hit him?”
“Nah,” said Darren, smirking and looking down a little. “He tripped and fell.”
If that was supposed to be a joke – and Chris suspected it was – then it certainly wasn’t very funny.
He felt Matt shift closer to him, and moved towards him again. If Matt wanted to get behind him right now, then good; he’d provide that shield without a second thought. He had a feeling that his own nose might be bleeding by the end of this too – but it was better that he take a first hit than Matt take a second.
“What’s your problem, man?” he shot at Darren, finally standing in front of Matt enough to feel more confident. The jerk couldn’t get to Matt without going through him first now – and that was exactly how he wanted it. Ideally, a couple of his teammates would step in and take Matt out of the way entirely, but he had no control over that. Not while Darren was still looking for a fight. “Why would you ever give a fuck if I’m gay? If he’s gay? If anybody is?”
“It’s disgusting,” said Darren. “How’s that for a reason?”
“Shitty reason,” said Chris. “Try again.”
“I said it’s disgusting,” Darren repeated, his words slurring into one another again. “You’re disgusting and you lied to me. I don’t care what you say. You’re a pervert; I know you’ve been looking at me.”
“I’ve never looked at you like that,” Chris insisted, frustrated at the thought of it. What kind of appeal could Darren ever have held? He was angry and intolerant, and his spirit was ugly. It felt strange that they had ever been friends – but in any case, it wasn’t a lie. He really never had looked at Darren like that. Before Matt, he’d never looked at any other man that way. “You’ve got a complex. And you’re fucking drunk right now. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to calm down.”
“They suspended me,” said Darren. “It was his idea.”
“They were going to suspend you anyway, dumb-ass,” Chris bit back. He advanced a few steps forward out of anger; he couldn’t help himself.
From somewhere behind him, he heard Matt say his name. A warning.
Unfortunately, that was all the distraction Darren needed. As soon as Chris’s attention was diverted enough to glance over his shoulder, Darren was launching forward to land a hard hit squarely on Chris’s jaw. He still hadn’t fully recovered from the last time Darren hit him, and now here he was taking more
Better me than him, he told himself repeatedly. The mantra that would get him through this fight. Better me than him. Better me than him.
Still, even in his anger, his intention was more to subdue Darren than to hurt him. Maybe Matt’s appeal to him to tone down the violence really had hit home somehow, and buried itself in his subconscious; either that, or he just wanted this whole situation over with. If he fought like Darren wanted to fight, they’d be tearing into each other until somebody pulled them apart.
He didn’t have the energy or the motivation for that. He wanted this done with so that he could tend to Matt.
Darren’s body weight smashed into him from the side, knocking him down hard onto the hot, rough tarmac. He could feel his bare skin scratching against the surface, wrestling Darren over to try and gain some traction. Chris still didn’t want to hurt him so much as pin him down and keep both of them out of trouble.
As he tried to pin him down, however, he felt a surprising hardness between Darren’s legs.
Chris looked up at his wild-eyed drunken face, too stunned to hide his reaction.
So that’s why you’re so bothered about all this.
You’re scared of the way you feel, too.
Whether Darren sensed his secret was out or he was too drunk to notice, Chris wasn’t sure. He kept struggling all the same – but since he was so intoxicated, the tussle wasn’t on his side. Now that Chris had him pinned, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Now that he knew the truth, however, Chris felt everything get more complicated. His anger was now tempered by something else – something that lay between protectiveness and pity, even as Darren continued to try and pull out of his grip. Clearly, he had a lot to wrestle with.
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.
