by Jerry Cole
“Oh,” Pink replied, his eyes widening. “Oh, okay. I get—I think I get it. Did you like it?”
Bjorn licked his lips. For a split second, he wondered if he should lie, then he decided against it. “Yes and no,” he said. “Liking it isn’t really the word for it. It felt like it was something I should have always been doing. I’m trying not to say it felt spiritual because that’s really cheesy, but I don’t really know if there’s another way to describe it.”
“That sounds—that sounds like you really enjoyed it,” Pink said quietly.
“No, it wasn’t just enjoying it,” Bjorn said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It felt far more important than just enjoying it.”
“Okay,” Pink replied. “So like, you found what you were always supposed to be doing?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Bjorn replied, nodding slowly. “But it’s weird to say that about having sex with someone, isn’t it?”
“Well, maybe it’s not someone. Maybe it’s men,” Pink replied. He slid off his bed and came to sit down next to him. “Are you sure this is about Mickey? Like, are you sure you wouldn’t feel this way if it was anyone else?”
Bjorn closed his eyes. He tried to think about the same experience with anyone else. He couldn’t even picture anyone that he was as attracted to, so this little exercise in exploration did nothing but make him cock his head. “It’s not about men,” Bjorn finally said. “It’s about one man. It’s about him, Pink.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Bjorn replied. “I’m absolutely positive. This is about Mickey.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Mickey felt a lot better after having a spa day, but he didn’t feel quite right yet. He still had a few matches to get through and he was pretty sure that they would be fine. As the day before had proved, they were still on top of their game. He didn’t have pay attention to much except the cues that his team provided to make sure that they stayed there. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to matter much that his mind was occupied with something else. With someone else.
Part of him wished that he hadn’t given Bjorn that ultimatum, because that was what it had been. He hadn’t seen it like that at the time, but on reflection, the nature of the conversation had become obvious. Clearly Mickey didn’t want to hurt himself anymore by being around Bjorn, someone who didn’t want him as much as Mickey did. Well, it was probably better than nothing, right? But then his feelings might intensify, and Mickey wasn’t really sure how he could handle that. He had barely seen Bjorn ever since the night that they had hooked up, and it was the one thing that Mickey couldn’t stop thinking about. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Bjorn in the most scandalous of positions, on his bed, standing in his shower next to him, with his mouth wrapped around his cock.
It was as if Mickey’s mind had no end to those fantasies. He wanted to make some of them memories, but maybe that just wasn’t in the cards. Maybe he would just have to put his head down, try to be the best at World of Heroes again to win a nice bit of money, then go back to his London flat, the one he shared with Syn and the rest of the guys. Except that when he thought about getting back to his life, he wasn’t excited at all. In fact, he was anything but excited to go back.
Going back meant that Mickey wouldn’t see Bjorn again. Or, rather, that it wouldn’t be the way that he had in this tournament. They would probably never be together again.
The worst part was that Mickey had never been one for commitment. The whole idea of commitment scared him, annoyed him. He hadn’t ever found anyone that he would have been comfortable committing to. Of course, that had completely changed the moment that Bjorn walked into his life. There had to be something ironic about it happening with a straight boy. If it had been happening to anyone else, Mickey might have even found it funny, but this was his life. He was surprised at how little it had affected his performance when it came to the game, because it seemed to be the only thing that he could think about.
World of Heroes had always been something that he had been able to pour his soul into. He found it easy to concentrate on that over almost everything else, and that was probably the reason that he was doing so well. The game wasn’t easy; with over one hundred heroes, each with at least five different skills, there was a lot to keep track of. Each hero was designed to counter another one, and the map was designed with advantages and disadvantages on different sides of it.
Really, when it came to World of Heroes, anyone who got into it had to do quite a bit of studying. It wasn’t like other games where people could just dive in. There was also the fact that a new patch seemed to come out at least every year so even pros, like Mickey, sometimes had a hard time keeping track of what was happening. Of course Mickey couldn’t think about Bjorn while he was playing, not with such a complex game. He hadn’t really seen the game as an escape before, but he now understood why it felt like that. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but at least it was playing an important role in his life. He couldn’t spend all of his time thinking about Bjorn, about how wonderful Bjorn was, about how much he wanted to touch Bjorn again. He just couldn’t. His heart broke every time he thought about it even a little too much. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been thinking about Bjorn in the first place, but it wasn’t as though he could help himself.
Actually, it was really fucking annoying. He wanted to think about something else, anything else. He didn’t want to wait around for someone that would probably never come around, certainly not for him.
And if he did come around, what guarantee did Mickey have that it was about him and not just about the sex? He sighed and rubbed his temples, trying to focus on the day ahead, as impossible as it seemed.
He would have to speak to him.
If Bjorn didn’t want to be with him, then Mickey needed to know. Mickey needed to have a chance to move on, too. He didn’t particularly want to have the conversation, but it still seemed important. It still seemed like a conversation that he needed to have.
***
He opened the door when he heard somebody knock. He hoped that it was Bjorn, despite himself. He wasn’t exactly disappointed when he opened the door and saw Syn standing there with two cups of coffee, but he wasn’t excited, either. Syn was obviously able to notice it, because he walked inside and raised his eyebrows.
“Still, huh?”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day, or something,” Mickey replied. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel like I can get over him quite yet. At least, not while I’m here.”
Syn cocked his head and handed him the coffee. It was warm in the palm of his hand. Mickey hadn’t realized how cold he was, and mumbled his thanks. He cleared his throat and stepped out of the way to let Syn come in. The suite was disorganized, but someone would clean it when he was gone. That was the one thing he liked about being in a hotel, the fact that there were maids. They had a cleaning person back in London, but she was expensive and only came three times a week. Mickey never knew just how much he appreciated a tidy space until after. He had enough money to have someone clean after him all the time, but that made him feel spoiled. He was an independent person, and if that meant that he sometimes had to live in his own filth, then he would take it.
Ideally, he would never have to live in anyone’s filth, but the reality and his dreams rarely matched up. Well, no, that wasn’t true. That was only true lately. It was only true when it came to Bjorn.
Goddamn Bjorn, making things so hard for Mickey all the time. It wasn’t exactly his fault, because Mickey was the one who had hit on Bjorn in the first place. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little angry. Bjorn wasn’t like the rest of the men Mickey had been with since he had come out. This didn’t feel like something he could sleep away, even in diverse and queer-inclusive London.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Mickey?”
“Aye,” Mickey replied, brushing his hair back dramatically. He was ready for the day, and he didn’t want Syn to think that he wasn’t going to be
focused. Not that he would—Mickey was sure that if Syn had any complaints related to the game, he wouldn’t hesitate to bring them up. “Oh, fuck, I don’t know, really.”
“Okay,” Syn said. “Come on, mate, let’s talk.”
He grabbed him by the wrist and led him to the bed, where they both sat down, one next to the other. Mickey knew that these sessions, where Syn was being his stand-in therapist, were becoming something that happened too often. He usually tried to keep the things that were going on to himself, but Bjorn seemed to have changed everything for Mickey.
Even his relationship with his best friend.
Mickey wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing, but he didn’t think so. “He’s ruined me.”
“What do you mean?”
He put his head in his hands and sighed. The sigh seemed to shake his body, all of his body, even parts of his body that he was pretty sure he didn’t even use. “I mean that he’s ruined me, Syn. I don’t think I can ever be with anyone and for it to be that good ever again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be with any guy and not compare him to Bjorn. I think he’s ruined me for good.”
“Mickey,” Syn said, getting close to him and putting a reassuring arm around him. Syn didn’t really touch him that much, but it felt like lately, that was all he was doing. Mickey knew that it had something to do with the fact that he had never behaved this way before, and it probably also had something to do with the fact that Syn felt sorry for him. He put his face in his hands and tried to listen as Syn continued talking. “Mickey, he didn’t ruin you. This is just new for you. This isn’t something you’ve ever had to face before, you know, being in love with someone. So I think it’s thrown you for a loop. That’s okay; you can feel like that, unrequited love sucks. Especially when it’s complicated. But you can’t let yourself think that it ruined you.”
“Wait,” Mickey said, his face emerging from behind his hands. “You think that I’m in love with him? But I like—I barely know him.”
“Aye,” Syn replied. “That’s probably the reason that you’re in love with him. That’s how love works.”
Mickey groaned. “Is this some sort of love-at-first-sight hippie bullshit? Because I’m not really in the mood for it, Syn. This is serious.”
“I know,” Syn said. He didn’t even smile. If this was a joke, it was in poor taste, and Mickey didn’t much appreciate it. But Syn rarely joked like this. “Look, I get it, okay? I know that for some people, love is this thing that happens after they have been seeing someone for a while and after they really know them or whatever. But for me, personally, it’s something that I know the moment that it happens. I know that love at first sight is really cliché, but think about it. You want this, right? You want it enough to sacrifice having sex with him, and from the way you were talking about it, you absolutely loved having sex with him. Like, you absolutely loved it.”
“I did,” Mickey replied. “I really, really did.”
“Right,” Syn said. “But you’re willing to sacrifice that because you want to spend time with him. You know, time. Like you want to take him out on dates and stuff. You even talked about meeting his parents. I mean, that’s not the kind of talk that I hear from people who don’t have feelings for the other person.”
“Oh my God,” Mickey said, biting his lower lip. “Oh my God, Syn, do you really think that I’m in love with him?”
Syn looked at him, his eyes wide. “I think only one person can answer that question,” he said. “And it’s definitely not me. Come on, we better get down to the arena. We have a few big games today, and we need your head in the game.”
“My head is not in the game,” Mickey replied through gritted teeth. “My head is definitely not in the game. You kind of just blew my mind.”
“Well, think about it for the day, okay? You still have all day to think about it,” Syn said. “And then talk to him.”
Mickey looked at him, his eyes widening. “Talk to him? Have you gone absolutely mad, Syn? What am I going to say? ‘Oh, by the way, petal, I’m probably in love with you. That’s why we can’t have sex anymore’. That isn’t normal, Syn.”
“Jesus, no,” Syn replied, shaking his head. “Don’t confess. Just get closure and move on. That’s the least that you deserve, right?”
“Yeah,” Mickey said, taking a long sip of his coffee. It burned his tongue, but he barely noticed. “I guess you’re right. Closure—ugh. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Well, don’t,” Syn said. “Finish your coffee and let’s get going. You have to make sure to look pretty for the cameras, okay? That’s why we need you.”
“Stop, I feel too loved,” Mickey replied, laughing and taking another sip of his drink. “How will I cope with all this appreciation?”
“I don’t know,” Syn said. “Come on, though. Seriously.”
Syn got off the bed and Mickey followed him. His head was spinning, though, as he thought about what Syn had said. He wasn’t sure he could focus on the game when all that he could think about was the fact that he might have feelings for Bjorn. No, he already knew that; this was further than that.
If he was in love with Bjorn, like Syn had said, then he couldn’t just sit around and wait for things to happen. He did need closure. Love wasn’t the kind of thing that could just wait, and it certainly wasn’t the kind of thing that could take place in a tournament and then end. They would end, that was how their love story was set to finish.
There was nothing else to them.
Syn was right. If he couldn’t have anything else, then the least that he could have closure. The idea seemed very dramatic, considering that he had only really slept with Bjorn once and they hadn’t actually been in a relationship, but he also understood the value of it. Bjorn had crawled into his veins and he had set camp there. He had become one of the most important things in Mickey’s life without Mickey realizing or consenting to it. He wanted him gone. Well, no, that wasn’t exactly true—he wanted him gone only if he didn’t want to be anything more to him. He was afraid that Bjorn had already proved that that was the case, that all he wanted was sex, but did it matter? They had both had a good night. So what if it didn’t go further than that?
Mickey really needed to put on his big boy trousers and confront Bjorn. Limbo was definitely no place to live, especially when it came to being in love with someone.
Even if he hadn’t realized he was in love with him in the first place.
***
Just as Mickey had expected, the team did really well through the day. By the time they were done, it was obvious that they were going to be going to the semifinals, at the very least. He expected to make it to the final, but he didn’t want to tell anyone that yet. Mostly because he didn’t want to jinx the team, and because they had lost before.
He wasn’t normally a superstitious man but when it came to the competition, he couldn’t help himself. If things went wrong, he knew that he was the person that was going to be blamed for it. He didn’t want to make himself the target of his disgruntled teammates’ annoyance. Instead, he high-fived everyone on the team, went on stage, and did a couple of rounds with the host and a few other reporters before he set off to the hotel. There was going to be a party that night, but Mickey wasn’t in the mood for it.
Syn had been right; he needed closure. At the very least.
He decided to set off to the hotel and find Bjorn. He needed to talk to him that night; he couldn’t wait any longer. There were times when he was playing when he was sure that he was going to lose because the thought of Bjorn was popping into his head, and that was not something that he could afford to do if he wanted to be the best. His livelihood was still riding on that, at least to an extent. His teammates’ livelihoods were, at least, and he definitely couldn’t be the person who let them all down.
He had to exorcise Bjorn from himself. That was exactly what he needed to do. He wasn’t sure exactly how he could go about doing that, but he had to follow Syn’s advice, e
ven if it ended up hurting him. He had to get things in order in his head before the finals. That was far too important.
There was no way that he could let Bjorn get in the way of that.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bjorn was still deciding when he would try to catch Mickey after he was done playing for the day. Matches were emotionally exhausting and took a lot of concentration. It was true that they didn’t require nearly as much physical endurance as other sports—hence the e in “e-sports”—but they did require a lot of focus. The developers had always recommended that everyone at least stretch before and after each game and why there was a little gym set up for teams at the arena. Of course, no one used that gym when the gym at the hotel was more than adequate.
When Bjorn thought about the gym, his heart fluttered in his chest. He wondered if he could go back down there and try to run into Mickey. Of course, Bjorn wasn’t sure exactly what would happen, but maybe things would continue developing the way they already had and they would end up in Mickey’s bed again. Bjorn wasn’t trying to be selfish, but he couldn’t help himself. Being with Mickey felt like it had changed everything for him and if he could be with him again, at least once, he would have felt a lot better.
He still needed to tell Mickey his plan. He wasn’t sure if he would go along with it, but he hoped that he would. Mickey seemed to really want things to get more serious between them, so Bjorn struggled to think of a reason that could justify why he wouldn’t want to get on board with the plan. He expected Mickey to put up a good fight in the game—since, after all, that was incredibly important to both of them and he had to keep his status as one of the best players in the world—but he didn’t expect him to balk at the idea.
He just wished he had already found a way to present the idea to him, because the longer that he went without talking to Mickey, the less certain he felt about how he would react. He was still pretty sure that it was a good idea, but he didn’t want to fumble when it came to presenting it. It was about framing it right, about making Mickey understand that they could be together without anything getting in their way. He swallowed and closed his eyes. He was sitting on Pink’s bed, barefoot and in his pajamas. Pink was out doing something, probably going to the after party. Bjorn hadn’t asked, mostly because he didn’t want to be invited. He would have had to say no, and then he would have had to field Pink’s questions about why he didn’t want to go, and they both knew that it would have just led to another conversation about Mickey.