CHAPTER TWELVE #2
To his surprise, Crawford gathered his bowl and chopsticks, leaning over Sebastian to set them in the sink.
He smelled good and the heat of his body felt nice. Sebastian had to clench his fingers tightly on his own chopsticks to keep from reaching out and drawing him closer.
He shoved the last few noodles into his mouth, set his dishes in the sink too, then hopped down.
Crawford had already shrugged on his leather jacket and was heading for the door by the time Sebastian caught up.
Crawford gave him a skeptical look, then twisted his shoulders sideways to fit as he walked down the narrow stairwell. “You following me? I’m not gonna fucking steal any of your plants or anything on the way out.”
“No, but I’ve gotta lock up behind you. What the fuck do you think has happened every night in the past?”
“I’d’ve locked up if you’d asked,” Crawford said as he ducked through the door at the bottom and walked toward the front of the shop.
Sebastian returned the skeptical look.
“I would’ve!” Crawford protested. “I’m an asshole but I’m not gonna let you get robbed.”
“You can’t lock up,” Sebastian admitted. Maybe he’d been a little unnecessarily harsh before. “It’s a dead bolt. I’m not giving you a key to my shop and it can only be locked from the inside without one.”
“Got it.”
Crawford had come in the front entrance earlier—a moving truck for one of his neighbors had been blocking the back—so when they reached the door, Sebastian reached around him and flipped the lock open.
The space was dark except for the light from the street filtering in through the front windows and the hallway light spilling in from the back of the shop.
“So,” Crawford said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, the leather creaking.
“So.” Sebastian looked at him. His eyes were beginning to adjust, and he could see Crawford’s brows drawn together.
“We’ll, uh, do this again?”
“That’s the plan,” Sebastian glanced away, unsure of why his heart was hammering like he’d sprinted up the stairs instead of walked down them.
“Hey.” Crawford caught him by the chin, his grip firm on Sebastian’s jaw. “C’mere.”
And then they were kissing.
Sebastian’s mind blanked out for a moment, shock and sudden need hitting him square in the chest at once and leaving him winded. He parted his lips in surprise and Crawford’s tongue was in his mouth, tasting of spicy-sweet Dan Dan noodles, and hunger.
Sebastian hadn’t thought about what kissing Crawford would be like until the other day. Since then, his brain had shied away from imagining it, as if even thinking about it too closely would make it feel uncomfortably real.
Now that it was happening, Sebastian could feel the soft tickling brush of Crawford’s facial hair and taste the urgency on his tongue, despite the orgasms they’d just had. The solid bulk of his body, the heat of his skin.
It was too much.
“What the fuck was that for?” Sebastian drew back, breathless, his lips tingling.
“I dunno. Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Crawford didn’t meet his gaze. “Don’t read anything into it, man.”
“I won’t,” Sebastian said.
Crawford was gone without another word and Sebastian closed the door behind him. He pressed his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes, thinking about their earlier conversation.
Had talking about Sebastian growing up playing hockey changed something between them? Had it made Crawford look at him differently? Did he want it to?
A sudden wave of grief washed through Sebastian.
It had been a long time since he’d thought about his hockey playing days and how it had felt to finally admit to himself—and to his best friend—that he wanted to quit.
But here, in his quiet shop, it all came rushing back.
“Hey, Nicky.” Sebastian’s voice came out rougher than he’d intended. He cleared his throat and rolled onto his side.
They’d been lying on Nicky’s bed doing their geometry homework and he lifted his head, frowning at Sebastian. “What’s up?”
“I … I need to tell you something.”
“Okay?”
“You’re gonna be mad at me.”
“What? No.” Nicky shoved his books away and crawled on his elbows until their legs were pressed together, his body warm through the fabric of his sweats. “I won’t.”
“That’s what you say now.” Sebastian looked away.
“Hey, look at me.” Nicky draped himself over Sebastian and rested his chin on Sebastian’s chest. It dug in, a little uncomfortable and oddly grounding.
Automatically, Sebastian’s hands went to Nicky’s hair, combing through it as he looked into Nicky’s eyes.
“What’s going on?” Nicky asked, his tone coaxing.
“I …” Sebastian pulled in a ragged breath. “IthinkIwannaquittheteam.”
Nicky blinked. “Did you just fucking say you wanted to quit the team? Please tell me I heard you wrong.”
Sebastian shook his head.
Frowning, Nicky said, “Like, go somewhere else? Because you know we’re one of the top-ranked teams in the state, right? We’re—”
“Not go somewhere else,” Sebastian admitted softly. “Quit hockey. Totally.”
“But why?”
“You know why.”
Nicky winced. “Yeah.”
Practice had been bad yesterday. In the locker room, the guys had been talking about a new kid in their prep school.
He was gay. Like … openly. Flamboyantly.
And well, it had been hard enough for Sebastian to swallow the stuff the team had said casually, with no real target.
But hearing them rip into this guy, hearing what they’d said about him …
It had made Sebastian feel so sick he’d puked into a trash can, bringing up a mix of the half-digested protein bar he’d eaten earlier and the blue sports drink he’d chugged during practice.
Guys had started chirping him for that and it had all swirled together in his head as he pictured the way the guys he called friends would turn on him if they ever found out about him.
About him and Nicky.
But Nicky handled it better. He always had.
“I just can’t do it anymore,” Sebastian said now, his voice thick. “I fucking can’t. And you know I love hockey, but I can’t keep—every time I think about the future, think about the draft, I wonder how the fuck I’m gonna do it. I don’t fit in, Nicky, you know I don’t.”
“But we were gonna do it together, Seb.” Nicky’s voice was rough. “Play in the show together.”
“You know what a long shot it is for me,” Sebastian pointed out.
“I’m never gonna be you. I’m not gonna go in the first or even second round.
I might not even get drafted. At best, I’ll be a low pick and I’ll be lucky to get a regular roster spot in the AHL.
I’ll be miserable the whole fucking time. I won’t be … I won’t be me.”
Nicky frowned. “You’re really serious. You’ve thought this through.”
Sebastian nodded.
“Fuck.” Nicky sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Sebastian could see the wetness in his eyes and feel his own cheeks grow damp. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.
“I’m sorry.” Sebastian’s voice was small. “I told you that you’d be mad at me.”
Nicky launched himself at Sebastian hard enough to make his teeth clack. He wound their bodies together, burying his face in the crook of Sebastian’s neck. His voice was muffled as he said, “I’m not mad at you, you asshole. I’m sad for me. I could never be mad at you.”
The sound of a siren in the distance pulled Sebastian from the memory and he stood there in his shop, his cheeks damp, his heart aching, and his lips still remembering the touch of Crawford’s mouth against his.
“I’m sorry, Nicky,” he whispered, his stomach aching with confusion and regret because while yes, back then Nicky had said he could never be mad at Sebastian, would he still feel that way now? Would he understand why Sebastian was making the choices he was making?
Sebastian should tell Crawford he couldn’t do this anymore but long after he’d locked the door, shut out the lights, and gone to bed, he was still thinking about the kiss.
Sebastian punched his pillow and rolled onto his side.
Fucking Crawford. He made everything complicated.