Game of Hearts

by Jerry Cole

  Mickey was still devastated, but he knew that he would eventually get over it. He just needed to get some time when he wasn’t thinking about Bjorn. He didn’t know if that was possible, but he needed to carve some time where he was only thinking about his aspirations. Meeting Bjorn seemed to have put the brakes on anything that Mickey wanted to do himself. There was no one that had ever done that to him.

  He already considered himself successful, but he still worried about money. He invested it well, according to his financial adviser, and he knew that he had a career in e-sports even once he retired. That said, if for some reason things didn’t pan out, he would probably have to get a real job. Except for video games and pouting in front of a camera, he really had very little skills. The only thing that he was moderately good at was working out, and that went back to the camera thing. It was a depressing line of thought. He normally didn’t think about anything like this, and he supposed it had more to do with him wanting to go home than with him thinking he wouldn’t do well.

  But did he really want to leave the tournament? Bjorn was always going to be part of e-sports now, and even though it had just been a mutual blowjob—because that was all it had been, right?—he had etched himself into Mickey’s heart. There was no way he could escape him now. He hadn’t ever met anyone else that had done something like that. The way Bjorn looked at Mickey was enough to make him quiver, and not just around his crotch. It basically made him the stupidest, most useless, most romantic piece of shit that ever existed.

  It didn’t make any sense. He barely knew Bjorn, and Bjorn had already made things crystal clear for Mickey. He wasn’t interested in anything more; it was too much. Mickey could hold on to the little crumbs that Bjorn threw at him, but he was better than that. More dignified. Well, he had been more dignified, before.

  Everything had changed for him the moment that he had first seen Bjorn. Mickey didn’t believe in love at first sight. He understood the pull of an attractive person, though; lust had definitely played a major part in his love life up to this point. The only boyfriend he had ever had, well, there had been nothing wrong with him. But Mickey was more into his dick than he was into his personality, and he was pretty sure that his ex-boyfriend had felt the same way. The relationship had lasted just a few months short of a couple of years, but they barely even did anything other than meet up once a week to have sex. Mickey wasn’t sure who had decided not to continue it, since they didn’t seem to like each other very much outside of that, and he was sure that breaking up came as a relief to both of them. They were still friendly, and if they ever bumped into each other, they would wave and ask how the other one was doing.

  William had been studying finance, and was currently working in a bank somewhere in the city. They had hooked up a couple of times since the breakup, but the magic was gone. William was now seeing someone quite seriously, from what Mickey understood. Mickey had been happy for him.

  It was so weird. The idea of someone that he had spent years with finding someone else didn’t bother him at all; he really was happy for William. But the idea of Bjorn finding someone else, anyone else, whether they were a boy or a girl, tore him apart. He didn’t want to think about it at all. He’d rather imaging kissing him again and again, laying claim to those lips, that beautiful mouth, those incredible eyes. That amazing cock.

  He really needed to get out of his room. There were only so many times he could masturbate. Normally, he felt better after jacking off, but it hadn’t worked very well lately. All that he had managed to do was tire his wrist and make himself feel like an absolute jerk. He tried not to touch himself while thinking about people he knew in real life, because that felt wrong.

  But everything was different when it came to Bjorn. If he had been gay, everything would have been fine. Mickey might have even ended up getting that fairytale ending that he was pretty sure everyone craved, even the people that pretended that they didn’t. Even though he pretended that he didn’t.

  But Bjorn wasn’t gay; he was straight. He may have been curious about what was happening between them, curious about Mickey, but Mickey wasn’t looking forward to being the thing that made Bjorn decide to explore his sexuality. He wanted Bjorn to want him as much as he wanted him, and he didn’t think that would happen with the way things stood. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

  He should go down to the gym. At least if he could get his endorphins going, he might not think about Bjorn anymore, even though he seemed to be settling into every single crevice in his brain.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bjorn started to slow down on the treadmill. The gym at the hotel was more than adequate, with several treadmills, a weight bench, and a big mirror on the wall.

  There was sweat running down his face, and his hair was sticking to his skin. He should have brought a headband to keep his hair from getting in his eyes, but he didn’t want to stay in his room and talk to Pink for too long. He liked Pink well enough, but lately, he felt like he couldn’t stand to be around anyone. He should have been on cloud nine, excited about his incredible and unexpected wins, about the fact that he was being propelled into stardom. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t thinking about any of that, which probably made him poor company to his teammates. They all seemed more united than ever, and, much more than before, he felt like the outsider. He didn’t think that was how they intended him to feel, but it didn’t matter. They were the ones that had made him hurt Mickey in the first place—although, could he really blame them? He had been looking for an easy way out, and his teammates had only been trying to cover their asses. If anything, it was Bjorn’s fault for not defending Mickey and coming up with another plan. And then he’d gone and run away when Mickey offered forgiveness. Now all he could think about was sharing all his wins with Mickey, being around Mickey, smiling at Mickey.

  But Syn was right; Bjorn was being selfish. He hadn’t even considered how Mickey would feel. Hell, he hadn’t even thought of Mickey as a person; he hadn’t thought of how rightfully upset Mickey would be if Bjorn just walked in and put his arms around him to celebrate.

  Which had been what he had planned on doing.

  He needed to talk to Mickey, give him a sincere apology, and then leave him the hell alone. He needed to make sure that Mickey knew that Bjorn considered him another human being, not just a source of inspiration. Bjorn had been so blinded by everything that had happened to him that he hadn’t even taken the time to see Mickey as a flesh-and-blood person. All that he had been worried about was his own identity, his own feelings, the way that Mickey had been making him feel. It had never been about Mickey; it had always been about Bjorn.

  He stopped the treadmill and wiped the sweat off his brow as he stepped off. He was wondering when he was going to get a chance to talk to Mickey, since Syn had been so protective, when he glanced to his side. Mickey was there, at the door of the gym, wearing a sleeveless black top and blue shorts that showed off the muscles on his legs. He looked incredible. For a second, Bjorn completely forgot that he was supposed to be looking at him as a person and not just as someone who was the object of his lust.

  Mickey was a human being. A human being who deserved an apology.

  “Hey,” Bjorn said, trying to keep his voice steady.

  Mickey looked up at him and smiled thinly. “Hey,” he replied. “I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

  “Because I don’t work out?”

  “That’s not what I said,” Mickey replied, looking him up and down. “I know you work out. I just, I don’t know, I thought you’d be celebrating with the rest of AlphaChew.”

  “I was going to,” Bjorn replied. “They are probably all in our rooms now. But honestly, I don’t feel like hanging out with them. I don’t feel like hanging out with anyone.”

  Mickey nodded, exhaling heavily through his nose. “I get that. Do you want me to go?”

  “Go? No, this—this is a public space,” Bjorn said. “You don’t have to leave on my account. I can just, I don�
�t know. I was almost done anyway.”

  “I don’t want you to go because of me,” Mickey replied, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to go just because I arrive into a place, you know.”

  “That’s not—that’s not how I feel,” Bjorn said. He wanted to grab Mickey’s hands and tell him that it was okay, that he just wanted to be in the same room as Mickey all the time. But he also didn’t want to freak him out. “Not at all.” He looked up at Mickey. Their gazes locked and Bjorn smiled. “In fact, that’s the opposite of how I feel,” he continued, feeling a little more confident as he saw Mickey’s eyes start to shine. “When I was about to go into the glass enclosure, when I was about to start fighting for our place in the semifinals, I was so excited that you were there. I really wanted to impress you, Mickey. That’s why I think I’ve been so good. Not because you’re my muse or whatever, just because I want you to think that I’m good. Because I want you to have a good reason to like me.”

  Mickey laughed quietly. “You don’t think I already like you?”

  “Maybe,” Bjorn said. “I mean, to be honest, all I’ve been thinking about is how this affects me. How this changes my life. But I’ve never asked about you; I’ve never thought about how you feel about all this. All I’ve done is freak out about us being together and what that could mean for me. I mean, that’s a pretty shitty thing to do, right? So there’s no reason for you like me. Except if you know I’m good and passionate about the same things as you are. Does that make sense?”

  Mickey nodded slowly. “Or you could have, I don’t know, talked to me.”

  “I was going to,” Bjorn replied, rubbing his temples. “But Syn made me realize I was being selfish. I wanted to go to your room to celebrate and he said I had hurt you. I never meant to hurt you, Mickey. The truth is, I’m just an idiot. I don’t know how to handle all this; I’m inexperienced as fuck and I’ve never really had a relationship or anything like that. I don’t know, I don’t think that I’m doing this right, but I just—all I want is to make you happy.”

  Mickey looked at him, his eyebrows raised up in surprise. “You want to make me happy?”

  “Yes,” Bjorn said, nodding vigorously. Until he had started talking, he hadn’t realized that was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to make Mickey smile, he wanted to make him proud, he wanted to make him happy. He wanted to run to him and tell him every victory, cry with him about every loss. He wanted him, all of him. Not just Atlanta, the best e-sports player in the world. Not just Mickey, the northeastern English supermodel. He hadn’t realized it until Syn’s wake-up call. “I want you to be happy. No—I don’t just want you to be happy, I want to be happy with you. I don’t care if that makes me an idiot, or if it makes AlphaChew harder to market or sponsor. I don’t care if I’m not putting the team first, because honestly, I think that was just an excuse. It was an excuse because I was afraid to accept how big a deal this is. How much I want this. How much I want you. All of you. Syn helped me realized that, whether he meant to or not.”

  “Syn is protective,” Mickey said, licking his lower lip. “He just doesn’t want me to get hurt. We’re close.”

  Bjorn’s heart dropped to his stomach. “How close?”

  “Not that close,” Mickey replied, smiling at him. “Syn is straight and not my type. I wouldn’t be with him if you paid me.”

  “Why not? He’s cute,” Bjorn said, biting his lower lip.

  “God, you’re adorable,” Mickey replied, completely ignoring what Mickey had just said. He put his thumb under Bjorn’s chin and tilted up his face. Bjorn stared back at him, mesmerized by his dark green eyes, by the smattering of freckles on his nose. He didn’t even close his eyes when Mickey first kissed him, his lips soft and warm against his own, his breathing fast and shallow. He was so gorgeous. Bjorn wanted to talk to him more, but the kiss was enough; it was more than he had expected. He kissed him back, closing his eyes and pressing himself against Mickey. He was sweaty and tired, and his muscles were aching, but he didn’t have to worry about that anymore. He just focused on the way that Mickey tasted, like sugar, coffee, and honey, and on how much he wanted him.

  How much he wanted this.

  Mickey moved away from him and smiled. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

  “Thank you,” Bjorn said, going for his mouth again. Mickey moved away from him and laughed. He tried again, and Mickey evaded him once more. Bjorn furrowed his brow.

  “You’re sweaty,” Mickey said. Bjorn stared at him, waiting for the clarification. “And if I keep kissing you, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing more than that. I would lick the sweat off you, if you let me, but I thought maybe you’d want to have a shower or something before we hooked up again.”

  Bjorn looked at him and swallowed. His heart was beating so hard and so fast that it was almost all he could hear. Had he heard actually Mickey right? Was his brain processing things the way it should be? They had kissed, sure, but that wasn’t like hooking up.

  “Hey, flower,” Mickey replied, smiling. “You still with me?”

  Bjorn tilted his head and looked at him. “Did you just call me flower?”

  “Aye,” Mickey said. “Didn’t you like it? Sorry, it’s kind of a habit. I call everyone I’m into a pet name.”

  “No, I liked it,” Bjorn replied, feeling his cheeks redden. Being around Mickey made him feel so young and vulnerable. He wasn’t sure that he had liked it at first, but now he was pretty sure that he did. He was sure that he didn’t just like it; he loved it. He loved all of this, every one of Mickey’s kisses, every time he gave him any attention, any one of his words. “I loved it, really.”

  “Good,” Mickey said. “I have a lot of pet names to call you. I’ve still got some of my good ones.”

  “I want to hear the good ones,” Bjorn said as they stared at each other, Bjorn thought that he never wanted to move. “I want to hear the bad ones, too.”

  “The bad ones are dirty,” Mickey said, his smile widening. “So very, very dirty.”

  Bjorn took a deep, quivering breath and moved closer. “Do you—do you want to start with them, or—”

  Mickey looked at him, his mouth half-open. God, Mickey was so gorgeous. “Actually,” Mickey replied. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go up to my suite? The shower there is huge, and I can’t wait to get you out of these clothes.”

  “You want to take a shower with me?”

  “I mean,” Mickey replied, biting his lip and hesitating. “If you want to. Do you want to?”

  “Yes,” Bjorn replied. “I really, really want to.”

  Mickey smiled, grabbed him by the hand, and led him toward the elevator.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mickey never thought that he would get such an apology from Bjorn, one that was obviously sincere. He couldn’t hold Bjorn being confused against him. Mickey had barely been able to handle it and he had always known, even when he was a wee child in primary school. His first crush had been that dancer in that video, and then his best friend at school. His best friend knew, of course, he had always known, even before Mickey had. He wasn’t interested in men at all, but he allowed Mickey to talk about boys as much as he wanted, and he swore to protect his secret before he was ready to come out. Not that it mattered. Neither boys nor girls flocked to him. That was a good thing, because young Mickey, before he had found e-sports, had been fumbling and awkward. While the rest of the people in his year found instruments or sports, Mickey spent most of his time in front of the computer, until the gym opened near his house

  It was funny that he and Bjorn had met in the gym. The gym was the first place where he had ever kissed another man. It wasn’t a very good first kiss, but it wasn’t as though he had much of a point of reference. All that he knew was that this guy had kissed him hungrily, and then things had developed from there.

  He didn’t realize that the effect Bjorn had had on him had been so big before. Now, as he was touching Bjorn, he coul
d feel electricity coursing all over his body. It was driving him crazy. He wanted to push Bjorn against the wall then and there, but he wasn’t sure that he would be able to contain himself if he did. He already had an erection, and it was almost impossible to hide in the shorts he was wearing.

  He pressed the button to call the elevator so many times that Bjorn had started snickering behind him.

  “You’re in a rush, huh?”

  “Yes,” Mickey replied, not even trying to hide it. He didn’t care that Bjorn knew how excited he was. In fact, he was pretty happy that Bjorn knew how excited he was, because he wanted to show him that same level of enthusiasm in the bedroom. “Very much so, I think you’ll find.”

  Bjorn smiled at him, his cheeks getting that rosy pink tone that they seemed to get whenever he was flirting and excited. “You know that I love the way you talk, don’t you?”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” Bjorn replied, nodding and looking down at the floor. Mickey wasn’t sure, but he thought that even Bjorn’s ears might be going red tone, and Mickey thought that was the most adorable fucking thing in the world. “I love the way you talk. Your voice, it’s so amazing. Your accent, God, like—okay, don’t tell anyone this, but I’ve listened to interviews where you’re talking to someone and I’ve like, gone to bed thinking about the way you sounded. I know that’s probably really weird, but now I get to hear you in real life, and it’s even more than I thought. God, it’s so fucking much, like when you talk to me and we’re already like, doing something, I can barely contain myself.”

  Mickey swallowed. His cock was twitching at Bjorn’s words, the fact that he found him so sexy, that he had obviously always found him so sexy even before he could admit it to himself. “Let’s see if you can contain yourself when we go upstairs, huh?”

  “I don’t,” Bjorn replied, his mouth-half open and the color on his face getting darker. “I don’t know if I want to.”