Chapter Not Today, At Least #8
Matt scrolls through his new followers. He doesn’t even care that they’re all clout chasers—at least this time he’s benefitting from it. When he sees ‘following’ instead of ‘follow back’, he gasps.
Lucas Bauer followed me back
What kinda god are you praying to?
Rub some of your luck off on me
Thought I wasn’t your type
I’m laughing. Really.
A knock at Matt’s hotel door momentarily disorients him. Did he order something? Did his team send him more food? He checks the peephole before opening the door.
“How did you know which one was mine?”
Robert’s dressed down again, in a threadbare shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t even bother to put shoes on—his socked feet sink into the swirly patterned hallway carpet.
“We debriefed after practice on Thursday, remember?”
“Jesus, that was a lifetime ago.” Matt opens the door a little wider, grateful he’s already wearing a shirt and shorts this time. “Did you want to come in?”
“Oh yeah, thanks.”
Matt’s not sure what to expect—he and Robert don’t exactly wander into each other’s rooms to hang out anymore. While Robert looks around, Matt shoots off a quick message to Laurent.
Robert’s here?
Don’t rub all your luck off on him
He snorts and looks up to find Robert staring into his mini fridge. Matt hasn’t used the fridge all weekend, so he’s not even sure anything’s in it. Maybe the hotel stocked it?
“What are you doing here?” Matt asks. “Run out of tiny tequila bottles?”
He won eight points, after all.
“I dunno.” Robert closes the fridge door and wanders further into the room.
“You don’t know?”
“Well, I do know.” He stops at the foot of the bed, his eyes fixated on the view outside the window. It’s just a parking lot, Matt’s already checked. “I’m just nervous to ask. So, how are you?”
“I’m good.” He’s confused, more than anything. “What did you want to ask?”
Robert doesn’t look at him, he just ducks his head and scratches the back of his skull. “I’ve been thinking more about, um, us? Lately? About how we used to be.”
How they used to be? That could be anything. They’ve been friends and brothers—sworn enemies, even.
And lovers. They were lovers, once.
Matt doesn’t want to assume anything, so he offers a weak, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And—” Robert finally turns, finally makes eye contact, before huffing and glancing away again. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
“What is?” Matt’s heart beats faster, thudding in his chest. Friends aren’t embarrassing, neither are brothers or enemies.
Actually, enemies are a little embarrassing.
His hands feel clammy for some reason, and Matt hastily wipes them on his shorts while Robert composes himself.
“I’m—I don’t even know how to describe it. Remember when we slept outside? And it was just us against the world? I wanted to, like, recreate that somehow.”
“You want to sleep outside?”
“No, I just want—” Robert makes a frustrated growl and Matt’s stomach swoops with anticipation. “Look, I don’t know how to ask if I could sleep next to you again without making it weird. I just miss something about it—I dunno.”
Matt deflates, but nods. “The intimacy?”
“Yeah.” Robert smiles, and it seems a little sad, somehow. “Not in the sex way, in the—I guess ‘intimate’ works.”
Not in the sex way.
Okay.
That's fine.
“So, yeah. Feel free to say no, but would you be interested in a hotel sleepover?” Robert’s been taller than him for years, but he seems so little right now, asking for this small comfort.
Even if he’s a little disappointed, how can Matt refuse? “Did you ask your dad?”
Robert lights up. He stands straighter and smiles when he replies, “Dad said it’s fine. Can your mom make those Mexican chicken fingers again?”
“We just ate dinner!”
“Spoil sport.”
It might not be what Matt had hoped for, but this is still good. Intimacy is good. He also missed having someone to share his nights with—to talk through the day with. The nights where it was both of them against the world.
“Yeah, you can sleep over.”
Robert whoops and throws himself onto the right side of the bed. He didn’t need to ask—he already knows Matt prefers the left.
It’s the kind of intimacy Matt used to take for granted. “Lemme go brush my teeth first.”
Matt disappears into the bathroom and tries to breathe a regular amount. They used to sleep together all the time—long before they did any of the sexual stuff. He can fall asleep next to his childhood friend without his dick getting hard about it.
Without his dick getting hard.
Fuck, it’s gonna be a long night.
Matt splashes his face with water and wills himself to be completely normal. They’re friends. Just friends.
Matt should be grateful he even has that, after the past nine years. His greed could destroy the good thing they’ve built and he can’t let that happen.
Matt exits the bathroom and blinks a few times in the dark. “Robert? Did you turn all the lights off?”
“Call me Bobby, you boob,” Robert answers from around the corner. “I’ve got a lamp on, don’t be dramatic.”
Matt waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he attempts to move. Everything is outlined with only the faintest hint of light until he turns and sees the bed.
To Robert’s credit, he did turn a lamp on, but one of the extra blankets from the closet is draped over it to dull the brightness.
The man in question lays on top of the covers, his arms pulled up under his head despite the perfectly reasonable pillow sitting above him. His gaze is drawn upwards, his stare fixated on the ceiling.
“What are you looking at?”
Robert scoffs. “The stars, obviously.”
Matt takes the bait and hops up onto the bed, excited to see what Robert’s cooked up. When he settles himself in roughly the same position, he blinks.
It’s just… ceiling. “There aren’t a lot of stars out tonight.”
“It’s what we get in exchange for a comfortable mattress.”
Matt can’t fault his logic. “Back then I would’ve traded a hundred starry nights for a padded mattress in a climate-controlled room.”
“With no spiders.”
“Jesus. Remember that night in Arizona? The scorpion?”
“I will never in my life, ever forget it.” Robert lets out an aggravated huff. “Did you know they’re blacklight reactive? Would’ve made that trip a lot easier if we knew.”
“I don’t think shining a black light at our sleeping bags would’ve been a great idea, honestly.”
Robert laughs and pride blooms in Matt’s chest. Robert has a good laugh. He has a good everything, but after so many years of jealousy and resentment, Matt hasn’t had the opportunity to really appreciate the man in front of him.
The way his cheekbones catch the light, the way his nose scrunches when he’s happy, the way his eyes almost sparkle, even in the darkness.
“Be so fuckin’ for real with me—” Robert’s still smiling when he asks, “Do you actually like snakes now? What the fuck was that answer?”
“They’re fine.” In theory. In zoo exhibits. Not in Matt’s sleeping bag. It’s strange that Robert still remembers something he said months ago, though. “Mostly, I just wanted to win.”
“I knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m so predictable.”
“Not always.” Robert doesn’t elaborate and Matt doesn’t ask. “I missed this. We could always talk about anything like this.”
That’s the beauty of sky conversations—even if they can’t actually see the sky. “Yeah, I missed it too.”
“I loved you.” Robert sounds almost resigned to admit it. “I didn’t say it, but I should have. I think about it all the time now. Would everything be different if I had just—?”
“Don’t.” Matt swallows around a lump in his throat. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“But maybe, if you knew—”
“It wouldn’t have mattered, because I loved you too.” It’s a well-deserved punishment to have to admit so out loud. “And I’m really selfish, so if I didn’t stay for my own emotions, I wouldn’t have stayed for yours.”
Robert makes a noise like a guffaw. It can’t be disbelief—God knows he’s accused Matt of being selfish more than enough these nine years. “You’ve got a weird way of making me feel better.”
“Is it working?”
“Actually, yeah. A little bit.”
They lay in silence and watch the orange-tinted ceiling. It’s slightly textured, and there’s just enough light to highlight the hills and shadow the valleys.
In his very serious study of the bumpy surface, Matt almost misses the faint, “I think I still do.”
“Still what?” he whispers back into the night.
“Love you.”
Matt releases a shaky breath. His lips tremble when he finally replies, “I think I do too.”
He never stopped.
The room feels warmer with the admission. Matt retrieves his hands from under his head and lays them against his cheeks. He’s burning up, almost feverish.
Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. Maybe they should stick to daylight conversations about trivial topics. Chocolate ice cream and Azulve tequila answers.
They aren’t teenagers anymore. What they’re talking about—it’s too big to handle alongside their adult lives.
“Look over there,” Robert’s arm crosses in front of Matt’s face and points to his right. “Look at that star.”
It’s the light of a smoke detector. Still, Matt can appreciate a good distraction. “I think it’s a satellite. It’s blinking.”
“It’s just twinkling—stars do that.” There’s a hint of a wonder in Robert’s voice. “I’m gonna make a wish on it.”
“But it’s not moving.”
“You’re always so cynical. You can make a wish at any moment—doesn’t have to be on a shooting star.” He’s quiet for a moment, before he announces, “Okay!”
Matt’s pretty sure he’s being pranked, but he still asks, “What did you wish for?”
“If I tell you it won’t come true.”
“You wished on a smoke detector.”
“A twinkling star,” Robert repeats, sternly. “Your turn—make a wish.”
Matt stares at the blinking red light. He hasn’t relied on wishes for a long time now. He has his dream job, money, support for his mother. What else could he want?
Well, there’s one thing. Something he hasn’t had for almost a decade. Something he misses every time he wakes up next to an empty pillow.
Matt closes his eyes tight and wishes.