Chapter Text
He could almost feel the heat and smell the sweat. He definitely heard the moans and the sighs and he saw the blue of other's eyes. Had they ever been this close? No, not like this, never like this.
They were moving together, completely in sync and as if what they were doing they had done a thousand times before. He knew rather than felt that they were kissing and touching. Oh, god the touching. It was all too much.
He heard words but could not decipher them. All there was, was the heat and the want. He was so close. They were so close.
Almost there, he just had to stay in this a little bit longer---
Charlie Conway shot up in his bunk.
It happened again. The Dream. If it had been once or twice it would be weird but then dismissed, but now it occurred to Charlie that it had definitely become a Thing.
Not good.
Charlie reached down into the sheets and sighed with relief. As erotic as The Dream had been it had not culminated in a mess in his sheets. He did have a slight erection but he quickly quelled that by simply recalling the last embarrassing thing Goldberg did. That always worked.
Charlie looked to the alarm clock on the nightstand and cursed under his breath.
It was four in the morning.
Crap, he had a morning run with the team in two and a half hours and he had stayed up way too late the night before to finish watching some movie on basic cable. He was not likely to fall asleep again and so Charlie could already see that the upcoming morning was going to be one from hell. He covered his hands to his face before sliding them to behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. He turned to the side facing the other bunk and tried to will himself back to sleep.
That was a bad idea, because Charlie instantly recalled the reason he had woken up in the first place.
At sixteen years old, Charlie was quite accustomed to the occasional erotic dream or two. But this one, this one was different. First of all it was recurring and second, it was detailed and it wasn’t just about sexual release. There were feelings there, deep and impenetrable. A sense of intimacy that Charlie knew was not part of the typical wet dream experience.
And they were about his best friend and teammate, Adam Banks, who happened to be sleeping in the bunk right next to Charlie.
A rustle came from the other bed as Adam turned in his sleep. Charlie gulped. A recurring, emotionally resonant sex dream was bad enough. But the fact that it was Adam rang some alarm bells in Charlie’s head.
Charlie had never given much thought to being attracted to men, but to be fair, Charlie didn’t give much thought to anything that wasn’t related to hockey, The Ducks, or his mom. Charlie decided he wasn't going to dwell on that part too much, he was a normal sixteen year old, flush with hormones and urges. An occasional thought about being with another guy didn’t seem all that unusual. He would have laughed it off if he had dreamed of some celebrity or even one of the better looking hockey players.
But the fact that it was Adam was what shook Charlie. Charlie knew Adam, he knew him better than anybody, and if he was having dreams about that with his best friend, what would that mean for their relationship? How would Charlie be able to face him the next morning.
Maybe it was that, after two years, Charlie and Adam would finally be on the same team. Charlie had foregone joining varsity sophomore year in order to make sure that some of his weaker teammates would keep playing the sport. It had been hard, because Charlie was no longer the worst player on the team; his days of being “Spazway” were long over.
So it was just the reunion, coupled with his intensified teenage hormones coming forward in weird and confusing ways. That explained the closeness, the intimacy. That was all, he just had to keep his cool and not give anything away. No reason to have Adam worry about what was probably nothing.
But Charlie couldn’t shake the image of his friend beneath him and…
Nope, he was not going to dwell on it. ‘Get a grip’ he whispered to himself ‘It’s just a dream. It means nothing.’
Absolutely nothing.
Adam Banks had been in love with Charlie Conway forever.
Rather, it felt like forever. Adam had only become conscious of his feelings for Charlie about a year ago, though he suspected that the actual attraction predated any awareness on his part.
It was a futile attraction, Adam knew. Adam had always thought that Charlie was a much bigger figure in his life than vice versa. Charlie loved most everybody and when it came to his teammates, Charlie didn’t single anyone out. Adam wasn’t special. Charlie had foregone a spot on varsity his sophomore year in order to stay with guys like Goldberg and Averman and ensure that they made varsity the following year. This year.
Adam didn’t think he could ever do that, to give up on something he cared about to help someone else. If he had, he would have stayed back freshman year and saved both himself and Charlie the friction that they endured. He wasn’t that selfless. Not even for Charlie.
Well, maybe for Charlie.
But Adam wasn’t Charlie. Charlie, who without second thought, had given up his chance to play in the championship game at the Junior Goodwill so that Adam and Russ (a boy Charlie had hardly known) could play. Charlie, who outside that disastrous start their freshman year, always sought to put others first. To ensure that everyone was happy and taken care of.
It was why Adam loved him, but it was also how he knew Charlie would never love him back, at least not in the way that Adam knew he wanted.
He should get over it, particularly if he wanted to survive having Charlie as a roommate. He would tell himself to forget it and try to focus on other things (hockey and school). But then he would see Charlie lounging round the dorm room in just a pair of sweats or they would run a play together or Charlie would glance Adam’s way, after Averman had done something stupid, and give a smile as if to share a joke and Adam would just fall all over again.
But Charlie was straight, and Adam was not.
Maybe it was good thing, Adam would tell himself, that Charlie couldn’t reciprocate. He could focus on refining his skills and doing well at school, to prepare for the future that his father so wanted for him. It was better not to have the distraction of a relationship. There would be time for that later, somewhere far away from his parents.
But Adam couldn’t help but be a bit jealous of his friends. Not just for their ability to date and experience the typical milestones of adolescence, but…
They all had something outside of hockey, unlike Adam. While they all were trying to obtain scholarships based on their time with the Ducks, Adam knew that very few of them if any had any professional ambitions when it came to the sport. Hockey was a means to other ends. Most likely only Julie and possibly Portman entertained the idea of continuing in the sport post-college.
And though he suspected Charlie had not really thought past having a successful next season, he didn’t think Charlie planned on going beyond college either. Adam suspected that Charlie thought he wasn’t good enough to go pro, but it didn’t matter; Charlie had his mother, his teammates and his natural charm.
Adam just had his friendship with Charlie, and a crush that would never be requited.
All Adam could do was make sure that he never slipped up, never let Charlie know how he really felt. Adam was good at being careful, never letting to much out. Growing up in Phillips Banks’ household made one good at that.
Except for that morning three days into rooming with Charlie. He hadn’t thought much when he’d woken up to find Charlie had already left. He had heard a rustle in the early morning but had thought nothing of it. He didn’t think anything of it until he was picking up the room before heading out to morning conditioning (a long run through school grounds) that he realized he’d made his first mistake. The corners of magazines that Adam had been foolish enough to keep under the bed were sticking out in full view. Adam had thought it would be safer to bring them to school or risk his mom uncovering them during a routine house-cleaning.
But now, that didn’t look like the best idea. If Charlie had found them then that meant…
Charlie knew.
And just like that, Adam felt his entire world come crashing down.
Charlie hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, so he just laid in bed and tried to reassure himself that The Dream was just some aberration that occurred three times and was weirdly arousing and about his best friend, and then as soon as he could, he grabbed his workout clothes and left the room.
Foolish, Charlie knew, but after having a sex dream three times about the guy, Charlie didn’t trust himself to act normal the next time he saw Adam. He had to brush it off first.
So when he arrived at the starting point for the team run, he immediately went and got himself acquainted with his non-Duck teammates. Portman ribbed him on trying to secure that Captain spot early, but that wasn’t the issue at all; he just knew if he could keep himself occupied he would better able to mask the fact that he was avoiding Adam. It was an asshole thing to do, but he didn’t plan to avoid him that long, just in the morning.
Of course, he couldn’t help when Adam came up behind him. Charlie said “Good Morning,” and tried not to make eye contact. He couldn’t entirely avoid it though, and when he saw the look on Adam’s face, he instantly felt bad. Adam looked on edge. Like he was worried. Charlie fought the urge to made some lightweight quip to lighten the mood to get Adam calmed down. Adam was prone to overthinking things, and Charlie was one of the few people who seemed to be able to ease it.
Fortunately, Dean Portman stepped in for him.
“Hey Banksy, you ok man?” Portman asked, putting an arm around Adam. Adam tensed initially but then sighed. Charlie wanted to say something, but this wasn’t the first time Portman did that and it would be odd if Charlie were to speak out against it now.
Charlie tried to not look so obvious as he waited for Adam’s response. Adam just nodded and gave a simple ‘Yeah’. The response seemed to placate Portman but Charlie knew that Adam was not all right. Charlie felt guilty at that; he shouldn’t be avoiding Adam, particularly if there was something seriously wrong.
But he didn’t know if he could face him. Would he really be that able to help Adam if he was still self conscious about the fact that he had had an incredibly intimate and—the more he thought about it—incredibly hot dream for the guy. That wouldn’t be fair.
Charlie was grateful when Coach Orion blew the whistle, signaling that they were about ready to start, even though his body felt like crap from the lack of sleep. This run was going to be a nightmare, but at least he most likely would not have to think about his current situation.
“Listen up. Everyone, we have about a month and a half before the season starts, so let’s see how much you all slacked off over the summer. Varsity leads, then JV. We aren’t going for time, rather endurance, we have a long season and two titles to defend.”
When Orion blew the whistle and zoomed ahead in the golf cart, Charlie hung back and let Adam and Julie lead off the group. He kept to the middle of the pack, toward the end of the varsity team and right before the beginning of the JV team.
“Hey Spazway.”
Charlie looked to his right to see Goldberg come up by him. And with Goldberg there that meant…
“No need to babysit us anymore, Spazway,” Averman quipped from his left, and Charlie groaned. He did not have the energy to keep up with these two right now.
“Yeah, but watch out if you want to get that Captain title,” Goldberg said, “if you want to be a leader, shouldn’t you actually lead us?”
“Who says I’m back here to babysit you,” Charlie shot back. It wasn’t a lie.
“No one, we just figured you’d be up front with Banksy,” Goldberg said.
“Did the cake finally get a little too rich for you?” Avermann jeered.
Charlie cringed at the comment and felt the heat that had nothing to do with exercise rise to his cheeks at the innuendo. God, he hoped they didn’t notice, he really should have re-thought this running in the back thing.
“Shut the fuck up, Averman” he managed to blurt out. He thought about speeding up, but he couldn’t do it. He really should have trained more this summer. And got to bed on time, he berated himself in his head.
“It’s all in fun,” Averman said, “but honestly we need you to ask Banks a favor.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Charlie asked, “he’s your friend too.”
“Yeah, but if you ask him, he might actually say yes,” Averman replied, “I mean, you’re his best friend.”
Charlie had lost the ability to protest. Better just to let them get on with it.
“Fine, what is it?”
“Well, you heard about how Madison Whalen is having a huge party at her house off campus, right?”
Charlie nodded. He had probably vaguely heard about it, but didn’t pay much attention. Honestly, if it didn’t involve his classes or the hockey team, Charlie didn’t have time for anyone else at school. He certainly didn’t care about whatever the rest of the preppies at Eden Hall were planning.
“Well, we want to go, but Madison told us we would only be able to come if we can convince Banks to go,” Goldberg said, “I think she’s hot for Banksy.”
Charlie grimaced, not solely from the exhaustion, though he was going to start pressing up against his limits soon. He felt a pang of something that he didn’t particularly want to analyze at the moment while simultaneously trying to keep running, and manage his two obnoxious (but beloved) teammates. The idea that someone was into Adam was not something that he found particularly appealing.
“Plus, he has a car,” Averman added, “we wouldn’t have to stuff ourselves into the back of Portman’s truck.”
‘More like Portman isn’t going to allow them back in his truck after what happened the last time , ’ Charlie thought.
“It’s a small sedan,” Charlie said, “It can barely fit four people, maybe five.”
“Doesn’t matter. Now, will you ask him?”
Charlie groaned.
“Fine, but if he says no, I’m not going to press it.”
That seemed to pacify them and Charlie spent the rest of the run just trying not to collapse.
When they made it to the end of the run, he bent over and tried to hold back the vomit he felt creep up on his throat. He didn’t know how he made it back to their dorm room. He just rushed in and grabbed his stuff and went to take a shower before breakfast and class.
When he made it back to the room, feeling somewhat refreshed by the shower, to get his books for class he found Adam standing there looking white as a ghost.
“You ok?” he asked. Whatever had been bugging Adam earlier was clearly still bothering him.
Adam managed to state that he was fine, but Charlie remained unconvinced.
“You’re not fine,” Charlie said.
“Are you?” Adam shot back.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Charlie said, getting a bit frustrated.
“You didn’t look okay this morning,” Adam said, trying to sound angry, but he couldn’t meet Charlie’s eye, “you were avoiding me.”
Charlie tried to think of what he could say that wouldn’t give too much away. Fortunately, he was so exhausted he forgot his self-consciousness about The Dream. He couldn’t do this again, otherwise he would begin promising Averman and Goldberg things that he would never consider otherwise.
“I didn’t sleep well, weird dreams,” Charlie said. It wasn’t a lie.
“Is that it?” Adam asked, and Charlie sensed he was trying to ask something else but didn’t want to come out with it.
“Yeah, is there something else going on?” Charlie asked, turning it back on Adam, “you looked elsewhere too this morning.”
Adam seemed to relax at the surety in Charlie’s voice and shook his head.
“No, you just were being weird, and I thought maybe something had happened, maybe I did something.”
Charlie shook his head and patted Adam on the back, trying his best to reassure him that this had absolutely nothing to do with him. It wasn’t true of course, but Adam didn’t know that.
“No, what could you do wrong? You’re the only one I don’t have to worry about.”
They headed out to class together, stopping only briefly by the cafeteria to pick up breakfast. Charlie forgot the promise he had made to Averman and Goldberg until they spotted Adam and Charlie in the hallway
“Hey, Spazway, don’t forget!” Goldberg called out at them.
“What was that about?” Adam asked.
Charlie sighed.
“Averman and Goldberg want you to go to this party at Madison Whelan’s this weekend,” Charlie said, “apparently you have to go if they want to go. I guess Madison Whelan has the hots for you.”
Charlie was still too tired to really think about the distaste that statement left in his mouth. He had no reason to mind at all if some girl liked Adam. True, they had never talked much about dating or really girls at all, but he couldn’t deny his best friend a girlfriend. Had Adam ever liked someone? Charlie had dated Linda for awhile, but to be honest he never really talked about that relationship with Adam. Now that he thought about it, it seemed as if Adam had always avoided it and Charlie had just gone along.
“Oh.” Adam said and scratched his head sheepishly. Truth be told, he was kind of cute, Charlie thought, but that wasn’t a welcome line of thought either.
“Also, I guess you would have to drive,” Charlie said, steering the conversation back to something more comfortable and not at all offputting.
“Are you going?” Adam asked.
Charlie shrugged.
“I guess, if everyone else is going,” Charlie said “Look, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Averman and Goldberg will just crash it if you don’t. I’ll bring them or something. Madison Whatsherface won’t even notice.”
“No,” Adam said, his voice a bit strange, “I’ll go, it should be fun.”
Charlie was a bit perplexed; he hadn’t expected Adam to agree. Maybe Adam liked Madison? Did he even know her? Charlie struggled to think if they shared classes together, though to be fair he and Adam didn’t either so he wouldn’t really know.
“Yeah, but I would suggest not allowing Goldberg in your car,” Charlie said.
“Well, wouldn’t the alternative be just Connie and Guy making out in the back seat?” Adam asked.
“True,” Charlie said, Connie and Guy could be quite annoying like that.
“Hey if it isn’t the ice pansies.”
Charlie looked up to see Doug Hauser standing down the hall just in front of Charlie’s chemistry class. Doug Hauser was the “star” quarterback of Eden Hall’s football team, although that didn’t mean much. Eden Hall was as bad at football as good as it was in football. And Doug and the rest of the football team had had it for the Ducks since they forced the mascot change their freshman year. Doug Hauser was a particular asshole about it.
“Shut up, Hauser,” Charlie shot back, “last I checked none of the metal in the trophy case can be attributed to your ass.”
Hauser scowled, and then turned and looked at Adam.
“What do you say, pretty boy? You going to just hide behind your Captain?”
Adam said nothing but just walked past Hauser and looked to make a beeline to his first period. Charlie was tempted to throw Hauser the bird as he followed. The guy had a particular penchant for going for Adam, though Charlie didn’t know quite why. Surely Wu or Averman would be easier targets.
Charlie stopped Adam before he was able to escape into his own first class of the morning.
“Hey, don’t worry about that asshole,” Charlie said, “he’s just pissed you beat his sorry ass out for athlete of the year last year.”
“I’m not worried,” Adam said.
Charlie wasn’t quite convinced, but let it go.
By the time the bell rang, Charlie finally felt like a functioning human, and having resolved the awkwardness with Adam and the dream, the day was not a total wreck after all. Of course he was not completely focused on his class because he missed the message on the board outlining how lab partners were selected for the upcoming year and therefore had not carefully chosen his seating partner. There wasn’t anyone else from the hockey team in the class and Charlie had only made the effort to sit as far away from Doug Hauser as possible. This of course meant he was towards the front.
“Oh great, can I be excused if my partner is my ex?” a sharp, female voice said from behind Charlie.
Charlie turned and looked up to see Linda, standing just to the right of the desk, her books in hand. Charlie scanned the room and sure enough all the other spots were taken.
This was great, he thought, as if his day couldn’t get any more awkward.
“Sorry,” he said, “probably not.”
It shouldn’t be that awkward, Charlie thought to himself. It wasn’t like him and Linda had ended things badly. It was just that a lot of stuff got in the way and they obviously didn’t like each other enough to make any changes to their lives to make it work.
“What are you doing in this class anyways?” Charlie asked, “aren’t you all upper level classes, leaving the average work to us neanderthals?”
Linda shot him a side eye.
“Unfortunately, I’m more a history and literature kind of girl,” she said, “science and math have always been my achilles heel.”
“So I take it I can’t crib your notes then,” Charlie said.
“Sure you can,” she replied, “but I won’t guarantee your results.”
Whatever awkwardness that there had been from their personal history was broken at that. They hadn’t been good at dating each other, but maybe being lab partners would be more feasible an endeavor. Charlie had great respect for Linda, and maybe in another life where hockey and high maintenance teammates weren’t a factor they could have been something.
They listened as Mr. Robbins went over the lab rules and guidelines, as if they were really going to handle anything all that dangerous. Hell, Charlie was sure that pretty much half of the bunsen burners didn’t even work well enough to set the school on fire.
They were taking inventory of their station, when Charlie decided to broach something that had been bugging him all morning,
“Hey, do you know Madison Whelan?” Charlie asked. Linda had gone to school with these people forever. She was bound to know who Madison was.
Linda looked up from counting the test tubes and stared at him for moment as if trying to suss out Charlie's true intentions.
“Sure, we have a few classes together,” she said. “Why? because I think it is highly inappropriate for you to ask your ex-girlfriend about some other girl.”
“No,” Charlie said, “ it’s just I heard that she likes Adam.”
Linda tilted her head at Charlie. She obviously had not been expecting that response.
“I guess,”, she said, “though I think a lot of girls are into him.”
“Really?” Charlie asked, surprised. He hadn’t noticed anything.
“Sure, I mean it isn’t surprising,” Linda said, “you don’t think girls would be interested in the star player of the State Champion hockey team? Not to mention, that he treats all the girls with respect, unlike a lot of the cretins who go to this school. You excepted of course.”
"Glad to know I'm not a cretin," Charlie said.
"I'm just saying Adam is the kind of guy you'd feel okay bringing home to your parents," Linda said, "I know my mom would be thrilled if I brought a guy like him home."
“Is that an appropriate thing to say to your ex?” Charlie said.
Linda shrugged, and Charlie went back to going through the drawers. Linda did have a point. Adam was going to go to the NHL someday. Didn’t girls want to date a star athlete? And Adam was good looking: he didn’t look like the typical hockey player. He had all his teeth, for one.
“Yeah, I mean she’s having this party this weekend,” Charlie said, “and she told some of the guys they couldn’t go unless Adam went.”
“Maybe she said that so those guys wouldn’t go,” Linda replied, and Charlie knew that she knew exactly who he was talking about.
“Yeah, maybe,” Charlie said, but he wasn't convinced.
“Why are you asking anyways?” Linda asked, “you seem awfully curious. I would think if Adam was into anyone you would know.”
“No reason,” Charlie said, “we just never talk about girls.”
Linda said nothing at that, but Charlie sighed. He had just made it awkward again.
God, if this was how this year started, with him making a mess with everyone he knew, he wasn’t sure he was excited to see where the rest of the year would take him.
And he also wasn’t entirely comfortable at how bothered he was at a girl being into Adam. Or Adam being into girls for that matter.
It was going to be a long year.
The next day and a half were completely normal. Charlie seemed to brush off whatever was bugging him and Adam had settled down when he realized that whatever Charlie’s issue had been, it was not that Charlie had figured him out. He’d just been paranoid. Even with the exposed magazines, it wasn’t like if Charlie had seen them, he wouldn’t have said anything. You couldn’t even tell they were porn, let alone gay porn. Charlie would have no reason to question them.
The only thing that put him off was when Madison Whelan came up to his locker after fourth period.
“Hello Adam,” she said, twirling her strawberry blonde hair between her fingers.
She tried to peer over his shoulder into his locker to catch Adam’s eye, but he didn’t pay her any mind: he was too busy trying to find his notes from Calculus in time for the next class.
“Do you have the notes from History?” Madison asked, giving up on trying to attract Adam’s attention in subtler ways, “I think I missed a few things from the middle of the lecture.”
“Sure,” Adam said, “I can stop by the library and make copies during lunch, just see me then.”
“Great,” Madison said, her eyes cast down at the complete lack of engagement on Adam’s part.
“So are you coming to my party Friday?” she asked.
Adam paused at that and remembered the conversation the other day with Charlie. He had been so relieved that Charlie had not found out he was gay, he hadn't really focused on anything else in the conversation.
“Oh yeah, I am,” Adam said, “the guys wanted me to go.”
Her smile lightened up, and Adam felt a bit guilty. Charlie had mentioned that Madison might be into him. He silently told himself he should be careful to not lead her on.
Though now that he bothered to take the time to notice her, Adam thought that she did look pretty and she was nice. He was only sixteen years old, it wasn’t set in stone that he was completely gay. He’d never had a boyfriend. Just because he was in love with Charlie and generally didn’t notice girls didn’t mean that he could never be attracted to one. And it was no more futile than harboring hopeless, unrequited feelings for your best friend. And he had to do something; the absolute terror that Charlie had found him out was not something that he could afford to deal with for two years. Better to try to move on so that he wouldn’t have to worry about that.
“Great,” Madison said, “I’ll be looking for you.”
Adam nodded, but didn’t return the sentiment, he allowed her to stroke a hand up his bicep, though, but more because the entire situation was out of his depth as opposed to anything else.
“So Madison Whelan, huh?”
Adam turned around from the direction of where Madison was heading, to see that Portman was hanging on his locker door, a smug smile on his face.
“You don’t play the game often, but figures you would go for the cream of the crop,” Portman said.
Adam didn’t catch the meaning in Portman’s words.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adam said.
“She’s hot, man,” Portman said, “and smart, right? She’s in classes with you. And we all know you’re the brains of the team.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Adam said, “though I suspect some of the people in my classes bought their way there.”
Portman shook his head.
“Whatever, so look, since you’re obviously going to this thing at her house, and you’re driving, I wanted to ask you: who would you rather have in your back seat, Goldberg and Averman or Connie and Guy with third wheel Kenny?”
Adam groaned. Honestly, he would rather have none of them in his car. He wished that he didn’t have the car at all. His father had purchased it for him as a reward for being named All American the previous year, but it honestly made Adam super awkward, particularly among the other Ducks. How was he supposed to stay close to his working-class teammates when they didn’t have cars, or the ones they had were second generation hand me downs, and Adam was driving a sleek, new Acura that just shouted money? It was just another thing in a long list of things that set Adam apart.
The only one who there was never a barrier with was Charlie. Maybe it was because Charlie was close to Bombay, who had also mentored Adam and who came from a similar background, or maybe he was just a naturally accepting person. Whatever it was, Charlie never judged. Not seriously, anyway.
Maybe that was why it was no wonder that if Adam was gay that he would fall absolutely head over heels in love with him.
He really needed to get off that.
“So which is it?” Portman asked.
“Can’t I just have Julie, Kenny and Russ?” Adam said.
“No, man, you gotta take the heat,” Portman said, “besides, you’ll have Conway there to keep them under control.”
Adam didn’t even question the automatic assumption that of course Charlie would be riding with him.
“Look, if you take Goldberg and Averman, I will make it up to you,” Portman said, and Adam shot him a look. Honestly, if he had to choose he would go with Connie and Guy. Their public displays of affection were annoying, but they weren’t intrusive or overbearing. But then again, wasn’t he going so that Goldberg and Averman could go?
“Fine,” Adam said, “but find a way to make it up to me.”
“Oh, I will. Maybe I’ll help you land Madison Whelan at the party.”
Lord, Adam hoped not.
Adam went off to his next class with two problems: how to deal with Madison Whelan’s obvious crush and how to best prevent Goldberg and Averman from ruining his car.
He was no closer to making headway on either by the time classes were over and he was making his way back to the dormitory. He was later because he had kept his promise to give Madison the history notes. She had thanked him, but Adam suspected that she probably didn’t need them, as she didn’t even look them over when he gave them to her.
Yeah, that was going to be a major problem
But Adam forgot about Madison Whelan when he saw a familiar white note stuck in the door to his and Charlie’s room. He quickly snatched it from the crease in the door and looked around before opening it. As he expected, it was short and to the point.
Rink. 6:30 p.m. - CC
He checked his watch. It was 5:30, only an hour. And with that his entire day was turned around. No worrying about Madison or a party or Goldberg. Those things could wait. With just the thought of being back on the ice, hockey stick in hand, he was sure there was nothing that could get him down.
Adam genuinely loved hockey. There was no pretense about that. He didn’t just play for his father’s approval; he never felt better than when he was out on the ice with a stick in hand. It didn’t matter if it was a championship game or a measly scrimmage: Adam would take either one if it meant he could play. Maybe that was why all those years ago, he never questioned sitting out in protest of the league’s decision to honor their districts. He just wanted to play hockey.
As Adam got older, the pressure mounted even more but, honestly, it was all in pursuit of continuing to play. Sure, the fame and glory playing in the NHL would be great, but Adam just wanted to be able to be on the ice as long as he could. Deep down, he knew that maybe part of him thought that he wasn’t good for anything else. There had never really been another option. Adam had been given two options at birth: either play hockey professionally or play good enough to get into some Ivy League school and then coast through life on his family’s connections and join his father’s business. Adam knew which path he preferred.
But none of that pressure or self doubt or future was really a part of his anticipation. The rink had been “closed” since the end of last year’s season (he and Charlie had snuck in a few times right after) but had been unusable since they returned to Eden Hall. But the note meant that it was back up and operational and Charlie had somehow gotten access to get them on the ice.
He was almost sprinting down the hallway at six towards the locker room, skates slung over his shoulder, though he slowed when he got closer. What they were doing wasn’t exactly allowed, though Adam thought that there had to be some part of Coach Orion who knew about Charlie and Adam’s clandestine ice time. Neither Charlie nor Adam were all that good at stealth, particularly when it came to hockey.
Charlie was leaning on the wall by the door to the locker room, randomly tossing a puck in the air.
“Couldn’t help yourself, could you, Banksy?” Charlie said, “If someone saw you with your skates out like that, our cover would’ve been blown.”
He was joking, of course. Charlie’s own skates were laying by his feet and they had no real cover. The camaraderie that had always existed between them was so easy and natural, Adam couldn’t help but play into it.
“Yeah, well, if you didn’t want to risk it, why did you leave a super obvious note on our door?” Adam shot back.
Charlie waved him off and reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys.
“How the hell did you get that?” Adam asked, though he honestly didn’t care.
“I had a meeting with Coach earlier,” Charlie said. “I may have snuck the spares out right under his eyes.”
Adam arched a brow at that as Charlie unlocked the door and followed him in.
“How did you do that, exactly?”
Charlie smiled.
“Sorry, that’s a Captain’s privilege,” Charlie said, “it’s on a strict need to know basis.”
“You’re not Captain yet,” Adam said.
“I know, but let’s be real, if it isn’t me it is going to be a token gesture to one of the senior guys,” Charlie said.
Adam knew that was true. Charlie really was and had always been the Ducks’ leader, and while the seniors on the team were great guys, he couldn’t imagine that they would deny that. By all accounts, it would be Charlie who would lead the team in the upcoming season, much to the chagrin of Adam’s father.
“You’re the best player, Adam,” his dad was constantly telling him, “why don’t you take the spot?”
Adam had to remind him that the Captain was not necessarily the best player, just the best leader, but his father never bothered to listen. It didn’t matter. his father wasn’t here right now and nothing was going to spoil Adam’s mood.
They rushed through taping their sticks and putting on just basic pads and their skates. As excited as Adam was, he knew Charlie’s excitement was just as palpable, and Adam’s heart began to race as soon as he smelled the ice. He was off the minute that his blades hit the surface of the rink. He could feel Charlie behind him as they did a few laps around the perimeter, readjusting to the feeling if just gliding across the ice and trying to revive muscle memory from the long summer away.
“So, should we do the usual?” Charlie asked once they settled in the middle of the rink. “First to hit all three posts.”
“Sounds good.”
Adam didn’t particularly care what they did. Hell, he might have just been happy skating laps forever. This rink was his heaven. He was here, hockey stick in hand, the sound of blades gliding across the ice and Charlie keeping pace right beside him. It would never get any better than this.
Practically, going for posts was a good choice of a game. It was challenging enough to play, since obviously there wouldn’t be a goalie, and it would be a little less contact, since they both knew if one of them got hurt it would be lights out on doing anything like this in the future.
“You start,” Charlie said, tossing the puck out to Adam who steered it over to the center as Charlie made his way a bit further down the line.
Adam nodded when he saw Charlie in position and slowly began the movements. Guiding the puck back and forth on the ice, keeping one eye on it and the other on Charlie, who, mimicking, was looking for the first opportunity to try to steal it.
They didn’t play that hard. Again, avoiding injuries was key. It was due to this that Adam was able to easily trick the puck past Charlie and get a clear hit on the right post.
“1-0”
Charlie took the puck back to the center and they did it again with Adam on defense. It was in these moments that Adam would be reminded of just how good Charlie had gotten as a player. It was hard for him to believe that there had ever been a time when the majority of the team called him ’Spazway’, but a good coach and growing confidence had done wonders. To be honest, there was no one else on Earth who Adam would rather play with, and even if Charlie might not want to play professionally, he was definitely good enough if he wanted.
Charlie, like Adam, was able to counter Adam’s defenses and hit the crossbar without even missing a beat.
“1-1, don’t think you can just run away with it yet, Banksy.”
And so they went on alternating offense and defense, getting into a rhythm of handling the puck and reading the other’s moves. It had been over a year since they played together, and though the purpose of the exercise was competitive, Adam could see the start of cooperative plays and moves in the future from this. Adam smiled to himself.
They were going to be amazing.
On the fifth run through, Adam lead 2-1 (he was able to squeak out a hit, as the puck had just barely grazed the left bar) and they both mutually decided to up the ante. Charlie defended more aggressively and Adam was right there with him. They obviously got carried away because amidst the small scuffle where both of them were trying to go for the puck, Adam’s skate hit the ice wrong and he went down harder than he meant to, the wall of the rink stopping him from sliding.
Charlie was able to maintain his balance and as soon as he was in control he was skating towards Adam.
“Shit, Adam, are you okay?” Charlie asked.
Adam was able to pull himself up off the ice. Thankfully nothing really hurt, so he hadn’t done any major damage. He looked around and sighed with relief when he saw that there were no signs of blood. He was able to make it back on his feet easily enough with no particular pain.
Charlie was not calmed by this and his eyes darted all around as if trying to sniff out some minute scratch that Adam must have sustained from the fall.
“I’m fine,” Adam said, trying to reassure his friend, "I didn’t fall that hard.”
“What about your wrist?” Charlie asked, still not calmed by Adam's reassurance, and he grabbed Adam’s right wrist and turned it over to make sure that it hadn’t even been tweaked.
Adam said nothing, but his heart stopped at the touch of Charlie’s hand, rough but cool, running over his wrist and arm. A lump formed in his throat and a familiar heat began to rise to his cheeks that had nothing to do with having just played hockey or the fall he had taken. He couldn’t help but be transfixed by every inch of Charlie’s face as Charlie carefully examined Adam’s wrist in his hand.
It was so tempting, Adam thought, to just reach out and brush the curls out of Charlie’s eyes. But he wouldn’t dare.
“I’m fine,” Adam said, pulling his wrist away. “You don’t need to worry about defending the state championship again.”
“I’m more worried about ruining your future all-star career,” Charlie said, and Adam knew by his tone that he wasn’t joking.
He didn’t know how he felt about the fact that his heart skipped a beat again Charlie knew and cared about something that was so particular to Adam. That even though it would never be in the way that Adam wanted, he was at least a bit different to Charlie than the rest of the team.
“I’m fine, no harm no foul,” Adam said and skated over to retrieve his hockey stick which he picked up and easily turned over with just the movement of his wrist, trying to allay Charlie’s worry.
Charlie breathed a sigh of relief at that and went and got his own hockey stick.
“You want to call it quits?” Charlie asked.
“I still need to hit the crossbar,” Adam said, a part of him knowing they should probably stop, but
not quite wanting to leave just yet.
“Fine,” Charlie said. “See if you can make it, I will try and psych you out.”
Charlie skated to the side and Adam positioned the puck for the shot. He toyed with the idea of intentionally missing it so they could play longer and recapture the rhythm from before but dismissed it. It was in his nature to always go for it and so with determination he aimed and took the shot, hitting the cross post of the goal right square in the middle. Charlie had not done anything to distract him, just beamed at him with what looked like pride.
“Just what one would expect from a two-time All American,” Charlie said.
“Yeah well,” Adam said. “It doesn’t count, you rarely get clear shots like that in a game.”
“Well, we’re not in a game now, are we?” Charlie asked, slinging an arm around Adam as they went to the exit.
Adam couldn’t say much of anything to that. And the only thing he could think of on the way back was the warmth of Charlie’s breath and the feel of his arm on the back of Adam’s neck.
Adam groaned as he got into bed.
How was he supposed to get over Charlie Conway, when he was falling in love with him each and everyday?