by Beth Bolden
Nick nodded, but Duncan continued. “I didn’t know what to think when Helen called me last week and told me she was pretty sure that you and O’Connor were having...I think she termed it…a hot affair. I wanted to tell her that you didn’t do that. I didn’t, though, because I wanted to talk to you first.”
“I know it’s...not smart.” Nick winced at his own choice of words. “I’ve always been so careful to avoid even a hint of subjective journalism. But, well, Colin is a fairly determined person. Which you know, already.”
“As are you,” Duncan retorted with dark amusement.
“Right,” Nick said uncertainly. He hadn’t expected that Duncan might find this development funny, even in an ironic light.
“I’m not mad. Helen isn’t mad. We’re more in the...cautious column, I suppose. I told her that if you were in fact having an ‘affair’ with O’Connor that you’d be smart about it, and that you probably wouldn’t want to turn it into a media circus.”
“I don’t. I don’t want to take away from what Colin is doing.”
“I didn’t think you would. So I’ve marked a few spots I’d like to...we’ll say tone down, before we send this to Helen.”
“Right, of course. Not a problem.” Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d just accepted an editorial change from Duncan without arguing, but in this particular scenario, Duncan was probably right. If he didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, there were definitely some spots that could use some fine adjustment.
Duncan stood. “Also, I lied earlier. You don’t look good. You look like you haven’t slept in a week. Get your head on straight.” And with that final jab, he was gone.
Jemma picked at her sandwich, casting a speculative glance over at Nick, who hadn’t even made a half-hearted attempt to eat his own lunch. “Have you talked to Colin recently?” she asked casually.
Nick glared. “I really don’t want to talk about this.”
Unfortunately, his glares must have either softened in Florida, or Jemma was no longer as intimidated by them as she’d been before Rio. “Too bad,” she said with a frankness that scared him. “So, did you?”
“Yesterday,” Nick mumbled into a bite of potato salad.
“Oh,” she said, her voice growing more casual, and yet more suspicious by the moment, “so you know then.”
His head snapped back up. “Know what,” Nick demanded. He knew it was unreasonable to make demands, considering that he’d just made his own to not talk about this, but if something had happened to Colin, good, bad, or otherwise, he needed to know.
Jemma shot him the frankest stare yet. “He told his teammates yesterday.”
Suddenly, Colin’s phone call out of the blue made so much more sense. He’d wanted to tell him, Nick realized belatedly, he just...hadn’t. Probably because Nick had been a grade A asshole who was too busy pretending he was okay to notice if Colin was.
“And?” Nick barked, mind whirling. There were so many ways that announcement could have gone. He’d sort of hoped he’d be there to help support Colin when he took this step. Instead, he’d been on the other side of the country and about as absent emotionally as he could.
“He said it went well,” Jemma said, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “I mean, obviously not everyone was happy about it. Expecting everyone to be is unrealistic. But he said his coach was supportive and one of the defensive players said something to the rest of the team about not creating an issue over it.”
“I should have been there.” The words popped out before he could stop them. Jemma looked over at him, galling sympathy in her eyes.
“Yeah, you should have,” she said.
“You’re not going to take it easy on this, are you?” Nick asked.
Jemma sat her sandwich down on the plate, making no pretense of even attempting to eat it. “Of course I’m not. Colin is my best friend. He’s pretty much the greatest guy I’ve ever met, barring my boyfriend. He’s loyal and kind and funny and hot, even if he doesn’t do anything for me personally, and you just left him in the middle of one of the most important times of his life, because –” she hesitated. “To be honest, I’m still not sure why you left.”
“I had to write the article,” Nick said, and the excuse sounded pathetically flimsy, even to his ears.
Her gaze back was stern. “You didn’t have to leave the way you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You’re going to fix this,” Jemma ordered.
“I’m going to try,” Nick said, which was the first time he’d let himself admit that he needed to. It wasn’t a want at this point, it was verging on a dire, nearly insatiable need.
Later that night, Nick sat his computer, staring at the screen, at the spots that Duncan had marked to be ’toned down’. They were all sections that Nick would have picked. Still, when he went to make the changes, he could only stare at the screen, putting off the inevitable as long as possible. It turned out that instead of just fucking talking to Colin, he’d written this article, and it said everything that he’d never been able to verbalize. And the idea of toning it down, even though it was smart and logical, ruined the Hail Mary pass that he hadn’t even meant to throw.
Nick realized that when Duncan had asked why he’d been so damn obvious, he’d lied. He did know. He’d written it this way on purpose.
Before he could think it through and convince himself to change his mind, Nick typed out a quick email to Colin and attached the original version of the article. You’re just doing what you promised, he justified, but the truth was, he didn’t want Colin to read the safe version. He wanted Colin to read the version where he’d gone balls to the wall, crazy in love journalist.
Even if what Nick really meant wasn’t let’s be boyfriends and make everyone completely jealous of our epic love but rather, let’s figure out how we can work with this situation because I miss you like crazy, Colin still deserved to know how he felt.
What he needed was Colin to hold on a month or so and be patient, while Nick worked out an awesome plan that didn’t create a massive clusterfuck around Colin’s coming out party. The flaw in this thinking was that Colin wasn’t really a wait and see sort of guy, and Nick, wrapped up in his own flair for the dramatic, forgot about that completely.
It was two days later when he was lounging on the couch, eating his weight in pizza because that’s what men did when they were three quarters of the way to heartbroken, there was a knock on his door.
Wiping his mouth on the hem of his old t-shirt, Nick shuffled to the doorway, fully expecting to see Jemma or Gabe on the other side, probably claiming he’d missed some outing so they could have a good excuse to drag him out of his loft. But when he yanked the door open, it wasn’t Gabe or Jemma standing there. It was Colin, a duffel slung over one shoulder, and apprehension in his tired blue eyes. Like he didn’t really expect Nick to let him in.
And fuck that. Like Nick was ever going to leave this man on the doorstep.
“You’re here,” Nick said stupidly. So much for the groveling he’d fully meant to do the next time they met.
“I’m here.” Colin paused. “I hope it’s okay. Jemma gave me your address.”
“Of course she did,” Nick grumbled. He held the door out. “Come on in. It’s not your fault Jemma doesn’t have any personal boundaries.”
The edges of Colin’s mouth tilted up into a smile. A bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless. Nick could work with that.
“I got your email,” Colin said.
“Oh.” Nick wanted to pretend he’d forgotten that he’d sent it while he’d been in the middle of agonizing over Duncan’s requested edits, but the truth was, he’d been even more of a wreck when Colin hadn’t replied.
Colin dropped the duffel on the hardwood floor and Nick, feeling jumpy, flinched at the sound. He took a step closer to Nick and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to give you my feedback in person,” he said.
“I’m sure you saw the new version,”
Nick said awkwardly, because he knew Helen had sent it around after Duncan had approved it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get to keep it the way it was.”
Colin shook his head. “It’s okay, I understand why they wanted you to cut some things. It’s still perfect.”
“Perfect?” Nick squeaked, his voice going embarrassingly high. He was just realizing he was in a stained t-shirt and old, threadbare sweatpants that he wouldn’t even wear to the gym. His hair was probably a wreck, and there was a definite possibility that he still had tomato sauce on his chin. And there Colin was, looking tall and handsome and...
“Perfect,” Colin said with all that certainty that he had. Nick envied him that tone of voice, and also the strength it took to be so sure. “Perfect enough that I came here to tell you that I finally figured out what I want. Not what anyone else wants. What I want.”
Nick felt breathless, because the way Colin was looking at him left very little room for doubt as to what he meant. “I hope you mean me,” he said, “because I was going to grovel, but I’m no good at it. And if you tell me it’s Teddy or Mark or someone else, I’ll probably have to try, and that’ll just be ugly.”
Colin laughed, and reached out for him, pulling him close despite the sweatpants and the greasy t-shirt and the tomato sauce. Nick felt his body relax in a way that it hadn’t in the last two weeks, something between a sigh and a moan, Colin’s hand stroking tender and sure along his spine.
“I missed you,” Nick murmured into Colin’s cotton-covered shoulder.
“I missed you, too.” Colin’s voice was even more soothing than his hands. “Though I wasn’t sure you’d admit it.”
Nick opened his mouth to argue, to try to explain, but Colin continued before he could. “I know, I know, it’s not a good idea, it’s bad timing. But this, this right here, this is why I’m doing this. It seemed really stupid to let it go.”
Sniffing, Nick buried his nose further into Colin’s shoulder, his own fingers digging into Colin’s hips. “It would’ve been. We’ve still got to figure some stuff out.”
Colin pulled back, and Nick glanced up to see two very blue eyes, looking fondly at him. “But it makes it a lot easier to do it together, doesn’t it?”
Nick let out an unsteady breath. “And that’s what you want? To be...together?”
Amusement glimmered in those eyes. “I sort of thought we already were, until you announced we couldn’t be.”
“God,” Nick groaned. “I am so stupid.”
Amusement shifted into a blinding smile. Nick had forgotten, even though it had been a little over a week, how powerfully attractive Colin could be. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend you’re insulting there,” Colin said with a playful poke in his hip. “Don’t talk about him that way.”
“I hear congratulations are in order,” was the first thing Helen said after Nick let her and Mark into Colin’s dressing room on the set of The Ellen DeGeneres Show.
Colin watched in the mirror as Nick shot her a half-hearted glare. He’d definitely expected Mark to tell Helen about his newly-official relationship with Nick, but that didn’t mean Colin had to like it – like so many of the day’s events.
They were at Ellen to film his first interview, post-coming out, even though he hadn’t actually announced anything yet.
“They always film these things early,” Helen had informed him when he’d questioned the order of the detailed and color-coded schedule she’d emailed over last week.
“You look...great,” Helen concluded as her eyes scanned his body. The hair and makeup artist had just left, leaving him feeling nothing like himself. Add to that the strangely tight, stylish clothes they’d insisted he wear, and he was currently feeling like puking might be an inevitability.
Colin considered complaining again about the wardrobe his new stylist had selected, but after catching Nick’s gaze lingering on his body more than once, he decided to stay quiet. The clothes might not be his style, but he loved the way his boyfriend’s gaze heated every time he looked his direction.
“You feeling ready, bud?” Mark said, propping himself up against the counter and blocking Colin’s view of himself in the mirror.
“I guess,” Colin said. What was he supposed to say? Sorry, I’ve changed my mind. Too many pieces had already been put in place, dominoes to tip over at the right moment, one after another. And he really didn’t want to change his mind. He still wanted to come out. He still wanted – very much so – to tell everyone that he and Nick were dating.
Talking to Ellen today was an important first step that couldn’t be avoided.
“It’ll be easy, you already know the questions,” Helen inserted.
The truth was, it was easy enough to practice his answers with Nick when they were sitting tangled up on his couch; it was a different proposition to do it with Ellen, in front of a camera, knowing that millions of people would eventually be watching.
“A lot easier than winning a Heisman trophy, or facing down the Raiders’ defensive line,” Mark chortled, annoyingly.
Nick had told him last night that while he’d come with Colin to the taping, he was going to stay uninvolved in the proceedings. Colin had doubted this, but had kept quiet, because he’d learned quickly it was easier to let Nick believe he didn’t have a protective streak a mile wide.
Nick lasted exactly one shitty comment from Mark, which was just about how long Colin imagined he would.
Nick pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and stalked over to Colin’s chair. Wrapping an arm around Colin’s shoulders, Nick glared at Mark. “Can you two give us the room, please?”
Mark spluttered something about just getting here. Helen sniffed and claimed they’d just stopped by to wish Colin luck. The good news was they did leave, with the jut of Nick’s chin practically slamming the door shut behind them.
“Thank god, I thought they’d never leave,” Nick said. His other arm wrapped Colin’s neck and he slumped against the back of his chair, his chin resting on Colin’s shoulder.
“They just got here,” Colin pointed out, amusement overruling the nerves for a precious few moments.
“Yeah, even five minutes was five minutes too long,” Nick said. “Anyway, they’re going to be here for you any moment.”
Nick’s gaze met Colin’s in the mirror. “I won’t ask you if you’re ready,” he continued. “I’ve done this before, way too many times, and I’m not stupid enough to believe you’re ever really ready.”
“It seems so silly,” Colin admitted quietly. “I did those things Mark said. Impossible things, or at least they seemed at the time. And this is just sitting on a couch and saying a few words, I should be embarrassed at how nervous I am.”
Nick’s fingers flexed against him and Colin relaxed into his touch. “You’ve spent your whole life avoiding talking about yourself,” he said. “I can imagine it might be pretty tough to change that. But you told your teammates, and it went okay. This’ll be easy.” He quirked a tilted smile, which was so charmingly hot Colin felt his insides liquefy. He wished that instead of going onstage in a few minutes that they’d be going back to Nick’s loft instead. “Bet you wished that you’d picked a smaller secret to start with.”
“Before you,” Colin admitted, “I didn’t have another secret.”
For a split second, Nick’s expression was pained. They hadn’t talked much about Nick’s insistence they not reveal their relationship yet, only keeping the focus on Colin for now--just that Nick believed it was necessary and that Mark and Helen were on the same page. “I’m sorry. I promise that this is the right way to do this.”
The right time to discuss this wasn’t less than five minutes away from his first coming out interview, but Colin wanted Nick to know that the conversation wasn’t over. So he reached out and cupped his cheek, his stubble delightfully scratchy against his skin. “We’ll talk about it later,” he promised, which definitely wasn’t what Nick wanted to hear, because he grimaced. “Seriously,” Colin insisted in
a light tone, even though he was serious as shit.
“Stop talking so I can give you a good luck kiss,” Nick said bossily, moving around and rearranging his body over the chair. Colin had expected a rather chaste kiss for luck, but Nick leaned in and slid his tongue right into Colin’s mouth. His muscles tensed and his nerves buzzed, and by the time Nick pulled away, lips red and wet, it was all Colin could do not to grab hold and pull him right back in.
Of course, that’s when the knock on the door sounded, and the voice of the PA responsible for bringing him to the set echoed through the dressing room, letting him know it was time.
Colin’s nerves dissolved, the way they usually did in his first huddle of a game. Focus took over. Nick slid off his lap, and Colin glanced down at his own half-hard dick. “That was the plan,” Nick announced smugly.
“So mean,” Colin said, but he couldn’t stop smiling.
It really annoyed Colin, but over the next twenty minutes, he discovered that Helen had been right. It was easy. Sitting on Ellen’s couch, knowing the questions she’d ask and his own answers as well as he knew the plays in the Piranhas’ playbook, it all felt rather anticlimactic. It had been so much tougher to negotiate the Rainbow Clause, arguing with Mark every time the Piranhas had come back with a compromise on a point that he refused to negotiate on. Mark making nervous noises about a contract standoff. The media’s viciousness over his supposed greed.
Colin hadn’t realized that was the fight. He’d been so focused on making sure he wouldn’t be forced to compromise down the line. At that time, he hadn’t even been considering coming out. Hadn’t even contemplated when he might want to, when he might be ready to take that step. He’d still held out hope that he and Jemma might date, though those days were numbered, and deep down he’d known it.
Even with a career of unknown importance and length ahead of him, and even the dying possibility of being with Jemma, he’d still fought against Mark’s apprehension, the Piranhas’ ignorance and his own fear, all because he’d believed that his identity was too important to concede.
