Chapter 19
H e’d made it to the car, somehow, and Levy had got out and caught him around the middle when he stumbled on thin air. Kallen allowed himself to be led to the passenger side, half surprised to realise it was Levy’s car and not his own. But then again, he didn’t remember the drive to the stadium at all.
His friend must have taken them home because they were there, and he definitely made Kallen get in the shower when it was way too cold still, startling him into a yelp and catching him so he wouldn’t fall.
“Sorry,” Levy whispered in his ear as Kallen shivered in his arms. He’d got in the shower with Kallen, and his boxers were scratchy against his goosepimpled arse, but his chest was warm and then he said, “Let’s get it warmer.”
So he’d stayed right where he was as Levy held him close and washed his chest in slow circles, soft and soapy and completely innocent. He knew he needed the cold, but he found himself leaning back until his nape rested on the alpha’s shoulder, desperate for any warmth available.
By the time his friend determined they’d been there long enough, his stomach was rumbling.
Levy chuckled. “Good! I’ll make us some food in a minute.” He was wrapping Kallen in one of his fluffy white towels and rubbing at his shoulders. Then he put the ends on Kallen’s own hands. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” He grabbed a towel for himself as they left the bathroom together. Following him, and Kallen absently noticed Levy’s hair was still dry.
He walked them into the bedroom. Levy’s bedroom because Kallen hadn’t slept there since—
“Hey,” Levy’s hand was on his own, squeezing, and he was frowning. “Where did you go?”
Kallen shook his head, and Levy huffed and told him to wait while he got some clothes.
CLOTHES HELPED AND food helped even more. Levy chatted a bit, but he let Kallen get away with simple answers and grunts. Once the food was consumed, he found his eyes closing of their own accord, as if once his waking function was fulfilled, his body’s tolerance for putting off sleep was well and truly over.
Levy noticed, of course. “Come on, bed time.”
There was no need for it, but when he stood and offered a hand, Kallen took it anyway. He let Levy wrap an arm around his middle and walk him down the corridor. Only to stumble a little when he stopped, and Levy didn’t.
“Oh.” They were by the main bedroom, and suddenly Kallen wanted to curl up and hide.
“Sorry,” he managed, eyes on the ground.
“No!” Levy said at once. “Come on, I’ve missed cuddling.”
He said it so easily, like it didn’t even occur to him that he could say no. Like... “I’m fine,” Kallen told him, digging in his heels.
“Okay,” his friend agreed. “So come sleep, I’m tired.”
And it was too hard to fight him, to fight them both, really. He wanted the warmth, even if he needed the cold. And McKinley was right; he wasn’t strong enough.
So he laid down next to Levy, and he buried his face into the soft skin of his throat, clinging to his pyjama top and he pretended it was allowed.
That it wouldn’t cost him anything, just this closeness, this care, this warmth.
HE COULDN’T MOVE, SOMETHING was restraining him and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t get loose. His throat hurt, but he couldn’t hear his own screams, the rush of blood in his ears deafening everything around him as his body redirected every resource to fighting this thing. To surviving.
And then the pressure was gone, just like that. He opened his eyes to the semi-darkness of the bedroom, rolling off the bed on instinct, and then he saw Levy, sitting up, hand on his left cheek. The echo of the last few seconds came back to him. “Wh... Did I...?” He took another step back. Had he hit an alpha?
“It’s okay,” Levy told Kallen. “You were having a nightmare, we were... I was holding you and I thought— I had the bad idea of trying to hug it out.”
“I’m—” He had to swallow down a sob, body curling up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Hey!” Levy was scrambling towards him, and Kallen took a stumbling step back, but his friend followed, getting to his feet too quickly for him to evade and grabbing Kallen’s wrist, squeezing. “Don’t do that, it was an accident, man.”
Kallen shook his head, stilling. He shouldn’t have asked to sleep here. Not after the day he’d had, not when he was...
“Kallen, I get hit way harder than that every other day,” his friend reminded him. There was a tentative hand on his other shoulder. “I normally get a little more warning, it’s all.”
The joke fell flat, but Levy was carefully tugging at him. Turning them around until his own back was to the wall. Only then did he let go of Kallen’s wrist and placed a gentle hand on his neck instead. “Let me hold you?” he asked. “Just for a bit?”
It was so soft. Not just his tone but his hands. On Kallen but not restraining him in any way. He’d just have to step back and they’d no longer be touching. He could do that, he could walk away, to the guest room, or even back to the Johnsons’.
“I’m okay if you never wanna kiss me again,” Levy added. “But I don’t— I’m here for you, Kallen. I... You can trust me. You can... I can hold you. Just that.”
And it hurt to hear, but it helped too. Because it made sense, Levy was a good person. A good friend, so of course he wanted to comfort Kallen when he was so obviously messed up. He didn’t expect more than that, for Kallen to be a functional human being, for him to be able to say nice things and be close and love him like he deserved to be loved.
It was okay to take this gift, so generous in the desert of his life that he felt like praying as he crumbled into Levy’s strong arms. It made him weak, but he’d already known that about himself, and it would make closing up again later much harder, but he did it anyway, with the desperation of need even though he should have controlled himself.
Levy shushed him as he cried, and spoke more soft words, promises and comfort that Kallen couldn’t process right then.
And then he took Kallen back to bed and spooned behind him and let him pretend he was safe and loved for a little while.
HE WOKE UP ALONE, AND the stab of pain that went through him as he opened his eyes to the empty bed was more than enough reminder that he’d taken what wasn’t his.
“Hey,” Levy was leaning against the doorway, still in his pyjamas. “I just called Coach, told him we weren’t coming in today.”
“What?” Kallen stared at him.
“To practice,” Levy explained. “He was fine with it. We all get personal days, remember?”
“But...” He started, and his voice was so rough coming out he had to stop and reach for the glass of water on his bedside table.
It was only once he’d drank half of it that he realised how stale it tasted. Levy must have been watching him, because when Kallen turned back to him, his mouth was twisted in a little moue. “Forgot to refresh it,” he said, and it sounded like an apology of all things.
“You don’t have to...” He ran out of words. “You don’t have to do any of this.”
“I know,” Levy told him, shrugging a little with one shoulder. “I want to, though. Wanna help me make some breakfast?”
Kallen really didn’t. He wanted to get back under the covers and hope he could fall asleep again, but he was already taking enough from Levy, so he dragged himself to his feet and followed his friend to the kitchen.
He cut the veg he was passed and opened his mouth to try the yoghurt with fresh fruit when it was offered to him on a spoon. And he sat down and put the delicious food in his mouth and tried his damnest not to feel how it still hurt to swallow.
It was the least he could do.
But it wasn’t enough.
Levy waited long enough for him to finish his food to pounce, but pounce he did. “Look, can you please tell me what happened?”
He froze with his cup of tea halfway to his mouth, then very carefully placed it down, eyes stuck to its murky depths. It was cold, it always went cold because he took too long to drink it.
“I don’t care what it was, only...” Levy obviously wasn’t done. “I thought maybe you were mad at me, or I made things weird, or something. But... I’ve never seen you play like that.”
He winced, he couldn’t help it. And then he made himself meet Levy’s eyes and admit, tight but honest, “I know I’m playing like shit.”
“What? That’s not... You have been off, for the last few days. Since...”
“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was, even if he was suddenly inexplicably furious. Mostly with himself, because he knew he could do better and he hadn’t and Levy had every right to call him out on it, but it was just so fucking humiliating.
“Sorry?” Levy echoed. “Kallen, I’m worried about you , not about your play. I’ve never seen you so out of it in the ice. Normally you go out there and... Well, you are magic, no matter what’s going on out here.”
Kallen cut his gaze to the side. It was true, it was one of the reasons he loved playing. On the ice, he could be himself, forget it all.
Only it was pretty hard to forget his captain’s threat. Or how... how it’d all fallen apart. He’d been feeling stupidly confident knowing he could use lure to influence the situation. He hadn’t been planning on it because McKinley wasn’t exactly an approachable guy, but...
But he’d convinced himself he was safe, somehow. Like he’d thought he’d become an alpha all of a sudden.
A delusion that had cost him dearly, and from which he was struggling to recover. “Heat... it was bad.”
Levy didn’t say a word, or even made a sound, but Kallen felt him react anyway, and when he stole a glance he saw he’d been right. His friend’s hands were fisted on the kitchen island, knuckles white.
He wanted to apologise for that too.
“Bad how?”
He was on his feet before he knew it, swinging off the banquette and going straight for the door.
“Kallen!” Levy was following him. “What on earth—?”
Kallen could have got away if he’d run, but he wasn’t that far gone, so he allowed Levy to catch him by the back of the shirt. He stopped, facing away from him and not saying a word, but he stopped.
He gave Levy a chance, as much as he could manage with the blood roaring in his ears and the absolute terror pounding away in his chest.
“It’s okay,” his friend whispered at his back, hand coming to rest lightly on Kallen’s upper back—not holding on at all, just a warmth presence. “I... I just want to help.”
His silence felt like a precipice; one Levy could shove them both past the edge of if he wasn’t careful. And yet, he waited. He fucking hoped like he had any right to hope for anything when life kept slapping him awake any time he dared.
It wasn’t sane, he couldn’t have explained it to any rational person without blushing for shame.
But he did it.
“I can help you get back in the swing of things. On the ice, I mean.” The words were uncertain, an offer that truly could not know its welcome.
But Levy had said it.
AGREEING TO GO TO THE rink in the afternoon, well past when everyone else would have left after morning skate, felt strangely underhanded.
It was absurd, Coach had been warned they wouldn’t go to practice, and they were contractually entitled to it on occasion. Kallen couldn’t even say he minded that Levy had made the decision for him—when you came home in a daze and needed someone else to supervise your shower, it was fair enough if they made a couple choices for you as a follow up.
It wasn’t until they walked into the empty changing room, and he stopped on his tracks that the pieces clicked together. Levy walked into his back, curling his arm around Kallen’s middle to keep them both from stumbling.
“You okay?” He sounded confused.
And he was going to remain so, because Kallen was going to look away from the spot where he’d sat down the previous day. He was going to walk across the room and yank off his shirt and get on with changing.
Levy spoke to him a couple more times, but seemed to give up when he got no response.
Kallen would have liked to be able to joke around or even grunt, but his teeth were clenched too hard for either.
Once he was in uniform, he grabbed his skates and walked out into the corridor to put them on.
He knew it was suspicious as hell. Of course he bloody knew, but he was giving it his fucking all , and Levy...
Levy followed him out and filled the silence between them as they made their way to the ice.
The ice helped a little, because it was his home, where he belonged, and sliding forward was somewhat easier than walking but at the same time immediately demanded more of his attention. And if he raised his eyes to scan the empty bleachers and sidelines, it wasn’t a big deal. He could have easily skated with his eyes closed anyway, with only Levy with him, slightly behind and to the left, keeping up but not crowding him.
He didn’t even notice Levy had gone out until he came back with sticks and pucks and challenged him to a game of keep-away. A bit basic, and even somewhat childish, but a good exercise, nonetheless.
They jostled over the puck, twisting and faking and by the time he broke away with it, Kallen was crowing at his success like this was a real game. And it was real, the air was fresh and cold, his blood was pumping and he’d got the puck away from Levy, even if the net he was flying towards was empty. Levy caught up with him, bumping him hard and Kallen went with it, swerving right without losing possession and shooting even though he was a bit too far still.
It went in, hitting a corner but most definitely in. He turned around and Levy was already on him, hugging him close, as excited about it as if he’d given him the assist instead of tried to stop him.
It was all ridiculous, but Kallen was still smiling hard when he suggested they switch over to practising passing and Levy refused, claiming he wanted a rematch.
THE AFTERNOON WENT by way too fast. He was exhausted and sweating and the idea of going into the changing room was making him want to throw up. It felt like all the hard work they’d done to get him somewhere better would be undone with a single step.
“Let’s just go home.” He looked up, and Levy had stopped him with a hand on his forearm. His face had gone serious and worried now that they were off ice, like he’d caught Kallen’s mood, and that only made him feel worse. “Please,” he added. “I’ll get our things. We’ll shower at home.”
Kallen looked down, throat tight. Of course Levy knew something was wrong, and he wasn’t asking, but he was doing his very best to protect Kallen anyway. Only tomorrow he was meant to come back here and do his job. What was he supposed to do? Get changed at home like a lunatic for the rest of the season?
The fingers on his arm tightened. “It’s okay to take it easy for one day,” his friend whispered. “It doesn’t mean... If you need a bit of time, that’s okay.”
Kallen had taken the easy way out and let him grab their things. They’d both changed off their skates in the corridor like lunatics together.
So the next morning, he had no one but himself to blame.