Chapter 2
Yelchin finally looks up as Hana makes her way to the door, putting an arm around Gavin, who probably wouldn't move if it was up to him.
Yelchin's eyes meet Arthur's, and he looks... terrified.
Arthur is reminded that he's a kid.
In his twenties, same as Ezra, and if this is what it looks like, if he and Ezra are what they look like right now, pressed together and holding on like they'll float apart if they let go, maybe Yelchin does have reason to be scared.
Arthur nods at him, doing his best to convey I won't tell, don't worry, kid. He's not sure if Yelchin's replying nod means he got it.
Doesn't really matter.
He won't tell.
He drags Gavin out with him.
"Fuck, Thornton."
Ezra rubs his nose against the side of Sasha's neck, groaning quietly.
"'M sorry," he mumbles.
"They know, don't they?"
"I think...
I think your parents do," Sasha says quietly.
His mouth is so close to
Ezra's ears.
"I think Gavin's tiny brain cannot, uhm.
Comprehend?"
Ezra huffs out a laugh, warm on Sasha's skin.
Sasha closes his eyes.
"Such an asshole."
Ezra lifts his head after a moment, squinting at Sasha's face like he's trying to memorise it.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
"I didn't mean to— to out you, I just..."
His lip wobbles.
His eyes shine.
"I really need you right now," he says.
His voice breaks, high in his throat and thin.
"I just..."
"I am here," Sasha says seriously, moving to cradle Ezra's face, watching the way he melts into Sasha's palms, eyes fluttering shut.
"I am here, sweetheart."
Ezra exhales roughly.
A tear escapes his eye, falling to Sasha's fingers.
Sasha clicks his tongue, eyebrows furrowing.
"Baby..."
Ezra's eyes open, gleaming and dark.
His pupils are blown.
"Call me that again," he whispers softly.
Sasha's stomach aches.
He leans in and presses their foreheads as gently as he can.
"Baby," he breathes.
"My baby."
Ezra makes a weak noise, a whimper in the back of his throat, and he shifts, nudging his nose against Sasha's.
"Kiss me."
"Ezra," Sasha tries.
There's a window behind him, but really, he should have already cared about that— their noses are rubbing, their faces pressed, hands cradling each other, and it's obvious.
Even Gavin could figure it out.
"I'm not— I'm not trying to start anything," Ezra says.
"I know my— my parents are outside and I have a fucking concussion, I just...
Please, Sasha."
Sasha exhales sharply, and he can't refuse him when he's like this, all pitiful and teary-eyed.
Not that he can refuse him normally anyway.
All he has to do is look at Sasha with those pretty brown eyes and Sasha is a dog on a leash.
He kisses him.
Softly, carefully, slowly.
Ezra leans closer, hand sliding to Sasha's neck, and Sasha squeezes his eyes shut, because they're starting to burn.
He gasps when they part.
"You are okay," he says quietly.
Ezra nods, rubbing his nose along Sasha's.
"I'm okay."
"Are you hurting?"
"Not right now," Ezra says softly.
"I'm just...
I'm kinda scared."
Sasha nods, pulling away to look at him, to cradle his face and gaze into his eyes.
"I have a concussion," Ezra chokes, crying again.
"What if I get another one?
What if I can't play anymore?
What if I—"
"Stop, stop," Sasha murmurs, shaking his head, wiping a tear from Ezra's cheek.
"Stop."
Ezra exhales slowly, looking at Sasha's eyes intently, steadily, and Sasha nods.
"You are okay," he says firmly.
"And you will be okay, yes?
You will not take stupid risks, and you will take care of yourself so you can recover."
"Okay," Ezra says softly.
"You will keep playing until you are like dirt, yes?"
"Like dirt?" Ezra says, tilting his head like a curious dog.
Sasha's heart clenches.
"Yes, elderly?"
"Old as dirt?" Ezra says, cracking a beautiful smile.
Sasha might combust.
Everything in his body aches like it's trying to contain it all.
"Da, see?" He combs a hand through Ezra's hair, smoothing it to the side.
"Your brain still works.
Still too smart for me."
Ezra scoffs, shaking his head, and Sasha kisses him briefly.
"You will be fine," he says lightly.
"You know how many players have had concussions?
If one was all it take, we would all be dropped like flies."
"You're really liking the metaphors today, huh?"
"That is word for it?"
"Meta-phor.
That is good word.
You teach me things even with puddle brain."
Ezra's face melts into a smile.
He slumps a little, falling toward Sasha, who kisses him again.
"Can you stay here?" Ezra asks.
Sasha looks at him.
His eyes are drifting shut, and he's turning his face into Sasha's hand like he wants to hide in it.
"I told the guys I wouldn't be here for long time," Sasha says, watching his cheek squish against Sasha's palm.
Ezra whines.
"Was it true about Gagnon?" he asks, eyes cracking open.
"Yes," Sasha says, nodding.
"He feels really bad.
He says he does not want to fuck up your career."
"'S nice."
"He is surprisingly nice," Sasha says with a shrug.
Ezra looks at him for a few moments.
His eyes get hazy, unfocused, and for a moment Sasha's stomach falls and he tilts his head down to look at him intently, searching for his pupils to compare their sizes.
But Ezra takes a breath, blinking.
"Idea," Ezra announces.
Sasha grins, nodding a quiet go-ahead.
"Uh.
Lie to them—"
Sasha interrupts with a snort, and Ezra's face lights up like it was his goal to make Sasha laugh.
"Tell them there was traffic," Ezra says, almost whining.
"Or that my parents wouldn't let you in to see me.
Or you got in a fight with Gavin."
"That would not help our teams get along," Sasha points out.
"One of my guys put you in hospital, and I am showing sportsmanship."
Ezra makes a face, sticking out his tongue.
Sasha refrains from kissing him about it.
"Tell them I was high and wouldn't stop talking to you."
Sasha tilts his head.
"That is not lie."
Ezra pokes Sasha's ribs, and Sasha laughs, catching his hand.
It's a little cold.
"Are you cold?" Sasha asks, drawing his hand closer to himself, cradling it.
Ezra lets their fingers twist together.
"A little," Ezra says with a shrug.
"'S fine."
"Uh, no," Sasha disagrees, lifting Ezra's hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
"Is not fine."
Ezra is grinning at him, unabashed, almost glowing with it.
Sasha swoons a little.
"I know how you could warm me up," Ezra says, moving his hand to touch Sasha's chin lightly.
Sasha smacks his hand away gently, scoffing.
"You are a menace."
"That's not what I meant," Ezra says, giggling like that was absolutely what he meant, already reaching for him again.
Sasha lets him.
"I meant, you could hold me."
Sasha looks at him.
Lets him touch his face like he's tracing the lines of his veins under his skin.
He looks so sweet when he's like this, relaxed and tired, inhibitions lowered.
"Will you hold me?" Ezra asks softly.
Sasha's chest tightens.
He has to swallow a lump in his throat before he can speak.
"Da," he says quietly.
Come here."
He moves closer, drawing a leg up onto the bed with his foot hanging off as Ezra smiles brightly, leaning toward him.
It takes a moment for them to get situated, for Ezra to relax against Sasha's chest in a way that doesn't strain anything or put pressure on anything.
Sasha's arms find their places around him, cradling him as his face tucks into Sasha's neck.
"Okay?" Sasha asks softly, brushing his fingers through Ezra's hair, tilting his head to let him nuzzle.
"Mm." Ezra sighs, melting some more.
"I like it when you hold me like this.
'S so nice." He presses his face into Sasha's neck.
Sasha feels his nose smush.
"You're so nice.
You're such a nice person."
"No one will believe you," Sasha says, letting his head fall to rest on Ezra's, pressing his nose into his hair.
"They don't have to," Ezra says lightly.
"I don't care what they think.
I know that you're— you're nice, and you're sweet, and you take care of me..."
Sasha is quiet.