Game of Hearts

by Jerry Cole

  “Isn’t that pretty standard for dads?”

  “That’s what I hear,” Mickey said, smiling at him. “I pretty much won the dad lottery. Moms, though—”

  Bjorn laughed, scoffing after he did. “My mom is really sweet. I love her, don’t get me wrong. But she doesn’t get the gaming thing at all. I moved out because I wanted to prove it to her, you know, that it was serious.”

  Mickey smiled. “I bet that’s not going well.”

  Bjorn laughed again, this time with no humor in his voice. “How did you know? She said I could make something of myself and that I’m choosing not. The thing is, I am making something of myself. It’s just not something that she understands. I’ve tried explaining it to her, but every way I try, she doesn’t really get it. Say I talk about what it is, she thinks it sounds like a joke. If I talk about the money, she says I’m making it up. She says nobody has ever made that much money off a video game.”

  Mickey giggled. “I hate to contradict your mother, but I’m filthy rich because of a video game.”

  Bjorn nodded. “I know. That’s what I told her. I told her about you; I told her about your teammates. You know what she said? She was like, oh, yeah, sure. That’s definitely not a publicity stunt. Not made up at all. In case you haven’t noticed, my mom is a snarky jerk.”

  Mickey laughed, his stomach moving when he did. His arm was still around Bjorn, and Bjorn didn’t think he had ever felt so happy in his life.

  Mickey was smiling at him when he spoke. “She just sounds like she worries about you.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Bjorn replied. “I know that she loves me. I know that, in her own way, she’s trying to protect me. It just doesn’t feel very good, you know? Because she doesn’t get this, but I actually know what I’m doing.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Yeah,” Bjorn replied. “That’s part of the reason I’m here. That’s the biggest reason I’m here, really. I’m trying to prove her wrong. I need to prove her wrong, because I don’t think she’ll stop worrying about me until I do. That, and I have my pride, you know?”

  “Aye, I completely get that,” Mickey said, still smiling. “Well, if I meet her, I can show her I’m not a figment of your imagination.”

  Bjorn frowned. He had only thought as far as the safe, warm bed that he was in. He hadn’t thought about what would happen once he left this room to face the outside world. There was his team to consider, the rest of the people at the tournament and, much worse than that, his parents. If he went home with hundreds of thousands of dollars and a boyfriend, he was pretty sure that all they would want to focus on was the boyfriend. Neither one of his parents had anything against gay people as a concept, but when it was their son, would they mind? They already disapproved of his career choice. They would definitely disapprove of a boyfriend. Even a joke one.

  If that was what Mickey was.

  Bjorn looked up at Mickey, moving away from him, and swallowed.

  “It’s okay, Bjorn,” Mickey said, a little sadly, as though he could read his mind. “You don’t have to introduce me to your parents. I can keep a secret, too. I just—can we just cool it on the joke thing, though? I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Bjorn replied.

  “I know, but you didn’t have to,” Mickey said, brushing Bjorn’s hair away from his face. “Look, I get it. This is weird and difficult for you, and I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything that you don’t want to do. But I can’t do this and you get that, right? Because every time that I see you, I’m going to want to kiss you. Not as a joke, but like, as something that I actually want to do. I want a repeat of tonight, and I know that may never happen. But please don’t punish me by making me think it will. I know I was a dick to you, too, and I know I should have talked to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

  “You weren’t a dick to me,” Bjorn quickly replied. “Anything you did, I deserved it.”

  “Maybe, but still,” Mickey said. Bjorn couldn’t be sure, but he thought Mickey sounded like he was pleading. “I can’t do it. I hope you understand.”

  “I get it,” Bjorn said. He swallowed down the knot forming in his throat. “So what happens after this?”

  Mickey licked his lips. He sat up and smiled thinly at him. “Whatever you want. If you want to, when you walk out the door, we don’t ever have to talk about this again. It doesn’t even have to be a bleep on your radar. You experimented, whatever. I can keep my mouth shut.”

  “I—I don’t know if that’s what I want,” Bjorn replied, his voice unsteady. Mickey’s entire face softened as his smile turned into a grin. He looked extremely relieved and Bjorn felt guilty for everything that he had put him through. He also felt guilty for the next few words that came out of his mouth. “But I don’t know if it’s not what I want, either.”

  Mickey’s eyes widened. He looked very hurt for a brief second, then he licked his lips and slowly nodded. “Then let’s go with that, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Bjorn said. “Okay.”

  Mickey swallowed. Bjorn could see his throat working, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. “You should probably head out. You have interviews to give and stuff, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Please, Bjorn,” Mickey replied, this time obviously irritated. “I would really like some time to myself now.”

  Bjorn swallowed and got off the bed. He grabbed his underwear and his jeans from the floor, putting them on slowly, trying to extend the time that he was there. Mickey watched him. He didn’t seem upset, not exactly, but Bjorn didn’t know him well enough to peg the expression that was on his face. He didn’t like it at all, though. He finally put on the rest of his clothes and walked out the room, not sure what to think or where to go. He looked behind himself at Mickey’s room, but Mickey had already sat up and he was looking away from Bjorn.

  Bjorn closed the door softly behind him, asking himself what the fuck he was doing, and shaking his head.

  He couldn’t worry about this right now. He had a team to get back to.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mickey looked at the beer in his hand and wondered what he was doing. The last time he had drank this much had been right before he had come out. He shouldn’t have been so worried about it, it turned out that his parents didn’t care at all. It had been a lot harder to convince them that e-sports were a real thing that he wanted to pursue, but he had been building up coming out in his head so much that he had needed a drink to cope almost every day before it happened. He had been drunk during dinner, which was normal, but all the family had been there and he had meant to take his parents apart privately or at least wait until the rest of his family had gone back home. He had gone outside to the garden to have a drink with his brother and his cousins, and they had started talking about their significant others until Liam had asked him if he was gay. He had chugged an entire bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale then slowly nodded.

  Liam had rolled his eyes and handed Mickey’s brother a twenty-pound note.

  “They don’t know,” Mickey said, looking conspiratorially into the kitchen, where everyone was still gathered.

  “No, we’re pretty sure they know, mate,” Liam had said.

  “But you didn’t know,” Mickey protested.

  “Aye, I was erring on the side of safe,” Liam replied. “But am an idiot, innit?”

  Mickey’s brother, Jack, had laughed. “He’s right, kid. Everyone knows.”

  “But—I’m so confused,” Mickey had replied. He wanted to go inside and get another beer, but he hadn’t wanted to face his parents. He had especially not wanted to face his parents after he thought that they might have some clue that something was going on. Especially if he thought—and he did—that they were going to call him out on it. It was different when it came to his cousins and his brother, because they were his peers. But his parents, and his uncles and aunties, what would they say? All of his uncles were
hardened men from the northeast. His father was already considered to be soft by them, because he worked behind a desk and preferred going to the less rough pubs in town. His father wasn’t soft, though, and Mickey was pretty sure that he could still kick his ass even as an adult with graying hair. He should have really come out earlier than he did, but it had just never come up. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, but that was the narrative that he had told himself. They probably did know, though; he usually only hung out with one male “friend”, and his male “friends” tended to be more flamboyant than him. He went through them quickly, though, because he always found it hard to commit. Probably because he was so far in the closet that he couldn’t see any light. He hadn’t ever thought that his family was stupid, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that they had figured it out. He was obviously the least smart one of them, because he was the one that had assumed that they didn’t know anything. That was why he had been drinking so much.

  Uncertainty, that was what always set him off, he realized as he looked down at his nearly empty beer. Drinking wasn’t a great coping mechanism and he only allowed himself to do it when he absolutely had to. The calories in beer added up to a lot, and Mickey had to take care of his body. Not when he was in an e-sports tournament, though.

  Maybe the Bjorn thing would resolve itself as easily as the coming out thing had. Once he had gone back inside, his mother had asked him if he was gay. He had said yes. She had nodded and asked him to pass her the last of the quiche.

  He doubted it would be that simple. Things were rarely that simple.

  Mickey sighed. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with Bjorn in the first place; he should have just stayed away from him. His cruising should have stayed limited to the type that he normally did, the online only type. It was just that the moment he had seen Bjorn there, looking so gorgeous, he had to approach. He had to. He thought that the intimate encounter would be enough; he thought that it would have been okay if it was just once, but he was wrong. He was so wrong. He knew that it wasn’t just about that; otherwise he wouldn’t have pushed the meeting his mother angle. He also shouldn’t have done it, but he couldn’t help himself. When his arm had been around Bjorn, everything had felt right. It had started as a lust thing, yes, but the moment that Bjorn had put his head on Mickey’s chest, Mickey felt like his heart was about to explode with happiness.

  He was glad he didn’t have to go outside because he was sure that he was going to end up making a fool out of himself again.

  When someone knocked on his door, he didn’t want to get up, but when the knocking got more insistent, he finally got out of bed. Syn was standing in front of him, and he had chips and DVDs in his hands.

  “DVDs? What is this, the early two-thousands?”

  “I saw Bjorn,” Syn replied. “Downstairs. He looked a little like shit, and I saw him chasing after you when he left the arena, so…”

  “Oh, God,” Mickey said. “Was it that obvious?”

  “Only because I know you,” Syn replied. “I would have tried to talk to him, but honestly, he looked like he was getting told off by someone in his team. I didn’t really want to add to his misery.”

  Mickey smiled thinly. “At least he seemed miserable.”

  “Do I have to kick his arse or…”

  “No, Syn,” Mickey replied, getting out of the way and letting him in. “It was a mutually agreed upon decision to break my fucking heart.”

  “Break your heart? I should have brought you some chocolate, shouldn’t I?”

  “Should have,” Mickey replied, smiling at him. “Thanks, mate. What movies did you bring? Is there even a DVD player in this room?”

  “The man down at the front desk is in the process of procuring one,” Syn replied. “They seem very interested in making you happy. Probably because the developers are paying them so much freaking money for this room.”

  “For real,” Mickey said. “Well, at least someone is interested in making me happy.”

  Syn sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “That bad, huh?”

  “I am such an idiot,” Mickey replied. He sat down next to Syn and opened the bag of chips. “I don’t even know why this is getting to me so much. Like, I just met him a few days ago, right? But it’s like he’s moved into my fucking chest. It’s awful, Syn.”

  Syn raised his eyebrows. “You don’t normally talk like this about people.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Mickey said.

  “Even with the Venezuelan, you didn’t talk about him like this.”

  Mickey pouted, laying down on the bed. “Well, to be honest, with the Venezuelan, I think I wanted to like him more than I did. Also, he was fantastic with his mouth. But I didn’t even know his name, and I think I just wanted the idea of a love story, if that makes sense.”

  “You were really upset at how things ended between the two of you, though,” Syn said.

  “Yeah, because it was really fucking stupid,” he replied. “I don’t like being ghosted by men who give amazing blowjobs. Does anyone?”

  “Hey, don’t ask me,” Syn replied. “I’m not a blowjob connoisseur.”

  “You should be,” Mickey said, laughing. Then he put his arm over his eyes as he sighed. “Thank you for being here. Seriously. This is weird, and it’s weird that it’s so hard for me, too. It shouldn’t be, should it?”

  “I don’t know,” Syn said. “You did say that you really liked him and—I don’t know. Really.”

  “I just want him around,” Mickey said, rubbing his temple. “And that’s probably weird. I don’t think I should want him around, I barely even know him. But when we were just, y’know, cuddling, and it was so right. Then I kind of ruined it by asking him what would happen when I met his mother.”

  Syn chuckled, then he quieted down he saw Mickey’s face. Mickey could barely see him, but he could tell that Syn was staring right at him. “You told him you wanted to meet his mam?”

  “No,” Mickey said. “Because that would have been a bit full on. I just told him that he could prove something to her when she met me, and I think I freaked him out. Which makes sense, if I had been him, I would have totally been freaked out, too. I don’t even know why I said it.”

  Syn nodded again. “Don’t forget the chips.”

  “I haven’t, don’t worry,” Mickey replied, sticking his hand in the packet of chips and rummaging around. He took one out and put it in his mouth, letting the salt coat his tongue. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I don’t know what you can do,” Syn said. “I don’t know if there’s anything to do.”

  “That’s the fucking worst,” Mickey replied. “Should I talk to him?”

  “Talk to him about what?”

  “I’m not going to talk to him,” Mickey said. “I’m probably just going to leave him alone. That’s the wisest course of action, right?”

  “Yeah,” Syn said. “Probably.”

  Before Mickey could answer, someone knocked on the door of the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  The bar at the hotel was always full, but that night, it was particularly packed. Maybe it just felt that way because everyone kept trying to talk to Bjorn, even though he was trying to get to the bar and be left alone. He really didn’t want to keep trying to placate his team. At first, they had been congratulatory with their remarks, clapping him on the back and telling him that they were proud of him. But as they started questioning where he had gone after their victorious day, and he had made it clear that he had gone after Mickey, the rest of the team had become less and less friendly toward him until they had been outright hostile. He hadn't even told them what had happened, but he didn't have to; they could easily figure it out themselves.

  "If you keep doing stuff like this, the plan will never work," Carpenter had said, sticking his nose up in the air. Bjorn had never wanted to punch him before, but as he was saying that, he wondered what a fist to the face would look like. After the rest of his teammates had told him what they all thou
ght, none of it particularly supportive, he stormed off to the bar. They wouldn’t even let him explain why he’d gone after Mickey, that Mickey had agreed to do something that hurt, and he wanted to apologize. Why didn’t the team understand that? Why did they care? He had won, he had done everything that they had wanted him to, and they were still being unreasonable.

  Really, he thought as he sat at the bar, he wanted to go back to Mickey and apologize again. He didn’t want to always apologize, though he knew that was probably what he was going to have to do. He shouldn’t have bolted, and he shouldn’t have agreed with Mickey when he had told him that he couldn’t deal with it. Bjorn wanted to respect his wishes. Really, he wanted more, but he was still scared of everything that it could mean for him. It could mean a lot for him, couldn’t it? He was having a hard time with the idea that his mother would find out what was happening with him, with his sexuality, when he wasn’t even sure what it meant for himself. She hadn’t even accepted his career, and he knew that like the back of his hand. He was still trying to process this for himself, and he didn’t like that it meant pain for Mickey.

  But God, it had been so good. He hadn’t expected that; he hadn’t expected himself to get as turned on as he did, but he didn’t think he had ever been that hard in his entire life. When Mickey had sucked him off, he had come more than he ever had before, and he had felt dizzy after he was done. He wanted more; he wanted loads more, but Mickey didn’t want it to be a joke, and he wanted more than Bjorn could give him. Well—Bjorn did want, but he didn’t want it to change who he was, and he thought that it might.

  He had always thought of himself as straight, because there was nothing else to think of himself as. He liked girls well enough. Maybe not as much as his friends liked girls, but he had been busy. The fact that he had always been relatively good-looking and then, as he became taller and started to work out, incredibly good looking, made it easy to find girls to be with. And he had been with plenty of girls, but nothing had even come close to feeling the way that things had felt with Mickey. The moment that he had seen Mickey, the moment that he had looked at him in the flesh, something had changed for Bjorn. He had known it from the very first time they locked eyes, but it had been too much, and he hadn’t been able to deal with it. Then he had brought his friends into it and thought he had screwed everything up forever, until they had hooked up. That was what had happened, and nothing else. They had talked about things, but the moment that the conversation had gotten onto their families, things had seemed far too real.