“Keys,” Eliot added, holding his hand out. Danny hesitated.
“Are you gonna drive with a busted knee?” Eliot raised an eyebrow.
Sighing, Danny accepted that it wasn’t an option, and handed Eliot the keys. Eliot smiled at him like he’d won something.
“Can you get around the car by yourself?” he asked.
As embarrassed as he was, Danny wasn’t used to anyone caring like this. It was so simple, but it was enough to make him feel a whole lot better.
“I can,” he said, figuring it was only a few steps.
“Good,” Eliot said. “Get in, and I’ll take you home.”
Danny frowned. “What about your car?”
“I took the bus here.” Eliot shrugged. “Now get in, before some enterprising young reporter catches up to us.”
“Other than you, you mean?” Danny asked.
“I’m on our side,” Eliot said, stepping away from Danny and getting into the car.
Danny couldn’t argue with that. If he’d been in doubt at all about whether he could expect loyalty from Eliot, he knew now that he could. This hadn’t been a part of their agreement. He hadn’t even told Eliot about his injury.
Neither of them spoke again until they drove out of the stadium and directly into a traffic jam.
Eliot turned to look at Danny. “Why do you even have a car in LA?”
“I dunno, why do you have a car?” Danny raised an eyebrow. He still remembered that Eliot did, though he’d never seen him drive it.
“Because it reminds me of what happens if I fail here. I get in it and drive home.” Eliot looked out at the bumper-to-bumper traffic ahead of him. “I have to keep it until I know I’m not going back.”
Danny suspected there was a reason Eliot didn’t want to go back, but he didn’t need to know the specifics. Especially not while the guy was driving.
Instead of interrogating him further, he opened the glove box and got out the bottle of painkillers he kept in there precisely for moments like this.
Normally, he just had to move his seat back as far as it could go and stretch out his leg until he could drive. Embarrassment aside, he was glad Eliot had been around.
“You haven’t got water or something by any chance, have you?”
“In the bottom of my bag.” Eliot reached behind the seat to grab it and dumped it on Danny’s lap.
Danny pulled out two notebooks, a pot of hand cream, a pack of tissues, and a tube of what turned out to be peppermint-flavored lip balm in his quest for the water bottle that really was at the bottom of Eliot’s laptop bag.
“So this is why you taste like a goddamn candy cane,” he said, presenting the tube.
Eliot chuckled. “You’re welcome to some of that, too. Your lips are really dry, it kinda sucks all the fun out of kissing you.”
Danny wrinkled his nose, then considered. Eliot’s lips had been soft. So had his skin. It had never entered his mind that these might be good or desirable qualities in a partner, but Eliot had just changed his mind.
“When in Rome,” he murmured, taking some of the balm off the top of the tube with his finger and smearing it over his lips. It tingled for a few seconds, and the smell of peppermint hit him again.
His cock twitched at the reminder.
Danny capped the lip balm as fast as humanly possible and threw it back into the bottom of the bag.
It wasn’t that he was attracted to Eliot, specifically. It was that no one had kissed him like that in a long time, and he’d missed it. His cock didn’t care that Eliot wasn’t actually someone he could have sex with. He’d been a warm body showing an interest.
That was all.
“So it’s your knee, huh?” Eliot asked. “I had a few theories, but I know you’ve had two reconstructions…”
“And I need a third,” Danny admitted, grateful for the distraction as he swallowed the painkillers and washed them down with pretty much the entire contents of Eliot’s water bottle. “Like, yesterday. But I have to hold out for the rest of the season.”
“And then retire, right? You nearly let that slip the first time we talked.”
“Yeah. I mean, my body can only take so much.”
“Your laundry list of injuries was pretty impressive. You must be covered in surgical scars,” Eliot said.
Danny shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, kinda.”
He tucked Eliot’s water bottle back into his bag, putting it behind the driver’s seat this time and moving his own seat back as far as it could go, lowering the backrest until he was reclining as comfortably as possible.
“But why keep going? Why not get the surgery instead of living in pain like this?”
“My team needs me.” Danny hesitated, not sure how much he should say.
Eliot had proved he was on his side tonight, though. He deserved a little trust, and if he knew, he’d have an easier time helping.
“We’re kinda in trouble. Money’s running out, sponsorship dollars are down, we really need a cup win this year or we could end up… we could just stop existing. And other teams might take most of the guys, but not all of them, and they’d all have to move and stuff. I can’t let them down when they need me most.”
“Even if it costs you your health?” Eliot asked.
“My dad died a few years back. Car crash, wasn’t expecting it. I’m stuck out here, a million miles away from my mom, so the team is all I have. We could probably be closer-knit than we are, and I never really fit in like I could have and I fit in even less now, but they got me through that, and I owe them. Besides, it’d put Walter out of a job, too. Without him, I wouldn’t have a career.”
Eliot sighed. “Okay. So we need to work specifically on keeping your secret. Which is why you really can’t date, right?”
“No,” Danny said automatically. It was part of it, and it made actually dating a terrible idea—it was hard to hide a busted knee if it gave out while you were having sex—but he’d told Eliot the truth in the first place. “No, I was being honest with you. I can’t trust myself in a real relationship right now. But I think I can trust you.”
“You can,” Eliot promised. “Now that I know what’s going on, you can trust me.”
Humming, Danny closed his eyes. He believed that, right down to his bones. Eliot was one of the good guys, and he was very lucky he’d found him.
Chapter Nine
“Take your pants off,” Eliot instructed, businesslike as possible, brandishing the ice pack Danny had told him would be in the freezer. Danny still hesitated, looking at him warily. Eliot sighed.
“You don’t have any parts I haven’t seen before,” Eliot said. “And I assume you’re wearing underwear, anyway. Unless you’re keeping it a secret that you’ve got two dicks or something, pants off.”
“Trust me, if I had two dicks, I wouldn’t be keeping it a secret,” Danny said, sounding more tired and agitated than playful. Eliot’s heart went out to him. It couldn’t be easy for Danny to be injured and in pain, and it had to be even harder to admit it to someone he didn’t know all that well.
Danny tugged the sweatpants he’d worn away from the game down, lifting his hips off the couch so he could shove them down past his knees. Eliot made every attempt not to glance at his groin, but curiosity showed him that Danny filled out his boxer-briefs nicely.
Eliot winced when he looked down at Danny’s knee. It was obviously swollen, the previous surgery scars white against a background of angry, red skin. He sat down on the coffee table opposite the couch Danny was sitting on, and held the ice pack against his knee.
Danny hissed at first, then took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. His face was drawn, pain written all over it.
“I can start telling people you have two dicks, if you want,” Eliot offered, trying to lighten the mood.
He understood the intense sadness he’d sensed from Danny in the first place a little better now. It wasn’t just loneliness. It was also grief over the loss of his career. Maybe even t
he loss of his physical fitness.
“Pass,” Danny said. “There are people who could prove you wrong.”
Before Eliot could think of a response, Danny’s stomach rumbled. He laughed without really meaning to, grateful for something else to worry about. Something he could fix, rather than something he couldn’t.
“I signed up for a fake boyfriend and I got a toddler instead,” Eliot joked. “First I’m tending to a boo-boo you got while you were playing, and now you can’t feed yourself.” That at least got a tiny smile out of Danny.
“I wasn’t actually going to complain that I was hungry in a high-pitched whine, but I can if it’d make the experience more authentic for you.”
Eliot laughed at that, his mood picking up. He was still sad for Danny, but he didn’t want to be miserable and bring him down any more than he already was. “You sound like a man who has experience with that kind of thing.”
“I have a nephew back home. He’s awesome, but oh man does he understand the art of complaining.” Danny smiled. It was obvious that he thought fondly of the kid in question.
“You hoping for some of your own one day?” Eliot asked. Every time he thought he had a handle on what Danny was really like, the other man surprised him again.
“Yeah,” Danny said, taking the ice pack over from Eliot. “You?”
Eliot chewed on his lip. He could be honest with Danny. It was actually surprising how honest he felt he could be. “I’d like to be the father my father wasn’t,” he said softly. “So yeah. A kid would be cool.”
“Huh. Didn’t take you for the type,” Danny said. “That’s cool, though. I hope it happens for you.”
“You, too.” Eliot stood. “Am I ever going to hear the end of it if I make you a sandwich?”
“Dude, order a pizza. You don’t have to wait on me.”
Eliot shook his head. “We’re in the middle of a night of passion, we’re not pausing to order a pizza. Trust me, your delivery guy knows who you are.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. “You don’t stop to eat?”
“Not ten minutes after starting.” Eliot laughed. “Look, I’m starving too, and I’m raiding your refrigerator whether you like it or not. You can either share in the spoils or go hungry.”
Danny, who had already opened his mouth to protest, shut it with a click. He cleared his throat, and then opened it again. “A sandwich would be amazing.”
Satisfied, Eliot headed to the kitchen to throw something together for them to eat. Thankfully, Danny clearly believed in keeping a fully-stocked fridge.
When Eliot got back to the living room, Danny was dozing on the couch, the ice pack discarded. There was a bruise spreading along the side of his thigh, the skin turning purple. He’d feel that in the morning. Eliot didn’t necessarily remember him taking a hit, but there’d been so much to pay attention to that he hadn’t really been able to follow everything.
He had tried to figure out how hockey worked, but he didn’t really understand. He got that the basic principle was to score more points than the other team, but that was the limit of his knowledge.
“What position do you play?” he asked, figuring he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for waking Danny up if it was to talk about hockey.
Danny started, groaning as he sat back up. His eyes widened when he saw the pile of sandwiches in front of him. “Best fake boyfriend ever,” he enthused, reaching out to take one. “Uh, I play center. It’s kind of like being the quarterback.”
“I only vaguely know what a quarterback is,” Eliot admitted.
Danny hummed through a mouthful of his sandwich, waving his hand to indicate that he’d answer once he swallowed. Eliot took the opportunity to grab a sandwich of his own before Danny ate them all.
“It’s an aggressive position. Really aggressive. Hence all the injuries.”
Eliot nodded, recalling the list he’d seen. Dislocated shoulders, a fractured collarbone, possible concussions, falls bad enough that they’d taken him away on a spinal injury board, plus the knee reconstructions. That wasn’t even all of it.
“You’re very brave,” Eliot said. “I would not square up against guys that big the way you do.”
“Some people would say stupid,” Danny pointed out between mouthfuls. “But thanks for not saying it.”
Eliot shook his head. “I assume you have your reasons. Stupid is when you do something dangerous with nothing to gain.”
Danny shrugged. “Had to pay for college somehow. Kinda stuck with the game after.”
“What did you major in?” Eliot asked, surprised that Danny had gone at all. He shouldn’t have been, he supposed—Danny clearly wasn’t stupid, and a lot of colleges took sport very seriously. His own definitely had.
“You’re gonna laugh at me,” Danny said, grabbing another sandwich. Eliot was glad to see that he wasn’t in too much pain to be hungry.
“I promise I won’t.”
“Art history,” Danny responded, blushing.
Eliot did have to stop himself from laughing, after all. That was a surprise. “Really?”
Danny nodded. “Really. I didn’t start there, but it’s where I ended up. I started in criminal psychology.”
“Wow. You get more complex every time I talk to you,” Eliot said.
“Isn’t that how getting to know someone is supposed to go?” Danny asked.
He was probably right about that. Eliot had made a whole set of assumptions about him, and many of them hadn’t been fair at all. Now that they were being shattered, he was starting to see the real Danny.
Eliot liked the real Danny. As much as he would have preferred not to, as simple as it would have been for their relationship to really be just business, they were way past that point now. His initial, horrifying attraction to him had matured into respect, admiration, and a crush based on his personality instead of his looks.
Not that he was hard to look at, or anything. From his warm brown eyes to his scruffy blond hair, Danny was objectively a very attractive man.
“I guess,” Eliot responded, getting his phone out of his pocket to check the time.
It was nearly one a.m. Crap.
“Dammit,” he murmured, tucking the phone back into his pocket.
“Problem?” Danny asked.
Eliot sighed. “I’m gonna have to make the hike to the twenty-four hour bus stop instead of the one I normally use to get here,” he said.
“Oh.” Danny blinked at him. “Well, I can give you cash for a cab? I definitely owe you that much, at least.”
“I’m terrified of cabs,” Eliot admitted. It was an irrational fear, but he’d heard too many horror stories to feel safe in them, especially this late at night.
Thankfully, Danny didn’t laugh or interrogate him on it. If anything, he didn’t seem terribly surprised.
“I hate taking them, too,” he agreed.
That was oddly comforting.
It didn’t solve the problem, though. The day had been warm enough and the night wasn’t exactly freezing, but Eliot wasn’t looking forward to the forty-five minute walk to the nearest all-night bus stop, either. Why did Danny have to live in the middle of nowhere?
Well, the middle of the suburbs, anyway, where people tended to own cars.
“Stay the night,” Danny said suddenly. Eliot looked up at him automatically, not sure if he was serious.
“I can’t inconvenience you like that…” he trailed off.
“What inconvenience? The bed’s huge, and I don’t take up that much space. Besides, night of passion, remember? That’ll play better if you’re still here in the morning.”
Eliot wet his lips, considering. Danny was right, and he was exhausted. He really didn’t want to have to walk to the bus stop in an unfamiliar neighborhood at this time of night. It might have been a nice neighborhood, but that didn’t necessarily make it safe.
He wasn’t so sure he felt the need to sleep in the same bed as Danny, but now that the offer had been made, it felt rude to refuse.
Besides, they were grown adults who could share a bed without it being weird.
There was probably a guest room, but it also probably wasn’t made up, and given the choice between having to make a bed, sleeping on the couch, and sharing an already-made bed, Eliot was always going to go for the last option.
A part of Eliot also didn’t want to leave him like this. Whatever else they were, he thought of Danny as his friend. Maybe the only friend he had. Leaving him alone and in pain seemed cruel.
“Okay,” Eliot agreed. “But if you get handsy, I’m gonna break your fingers.”
“I believe that,” Danny said. “So I promise I won’t.”
“Good. Eat your sandwiches.” Eliot pushed the plate over to Danny, sitting down beside him on the couch.
It wouldn’t hurt to stay the night. It would even make their relationship look more realistic. This had worked out better than they’d planned, aggravated injury aside.
Chapter Ten
When Danny woke up curled around a warm body, it took him a solid few seconds to remember who he’d gone to bed with, and why. He froze as soon as he realized he was bear-hugging Eliot as though he was a beloved stuffed animal, not sure what to do.
Danny had his nose pressed into Eliot’s hair, the same cedar and lemon smell he remembered from yesterday filling his nostrils. It took him right back to the kiss they’d shared, but also back to Eliot helping him to the car and covering for him.
He knew it wasn’t out of love, exactly, but it had been the first time he’d felt loved in a long time. Or more accurately, the first time he’d felt cared about. Eliot didn’t love him, but he had proven his loyalty. That meant a lot.
It was nice to wake up next to someone, too. Danny couldn’t deny that, even if he wanted to.
His cock apparently thought so as well.
Having realized that, Danny knew he couldn’t let Eliot wake up like this. He unwrapped his arms from Eliot’s chest gently, trying not to make any sudden movements that might wake him.
Once he’d managed to wriggle away without disturbing Eliot, Danny breathed a sigh of relief. He’d gotten away with it, and Eliot would never need to know.
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