I just
Holy shit he just did that for real??
Fuck he’s so hot I love him
SHIT I was supposed to tell him that before I told you
Marco, oh-so helpfully, texts back a string of laughing emojis. Nick needs a new best friend.
Marco
Happy for you bud
The interview goes on for a little longer, but Nick is probably going to have to listen to it again some other time, because he is absolutely not paying attention. When it ends, he starts refreshing the radio’s YouTube page furiously, waitingfor the video to be uploaded. “Come on, come on,” he mutters, refreshing again. At last, the video appears.
Sticks+Stones – Toxic – Britney Spears – Acoustic Cover (Live for StarlingFM)
It’s unfair that Matt looks absolutely gorgeous, too. He’s in a plain gray V-neck with his black leather jacket over the top and black jeans that lace up along the outside, tucked into his usual combat boots. Much like the acoustic performance itself, it’s a softer version of his usual on-stage persona. Before he starts singing, he looks directly at the camera and smiles like he’s about to share a secret.
It’s one hell of a secret, Nick thinks.
He watches it several times in a row, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he pauses on multiple occasions to admire Matt with his eyes half-closed and his hands wrapped around the microphone. The camera zooms in on him, capturing clearly the emotion on his face, and it’s all Nick can do to stare helplessly, watching this confession.
It feels like an age has passed by the time Nick’s phone rings, Matt’s grinning Caller ID picture filling his screen. Nick almost throws it across the room in reflex as he lunges for the device, pulse racing a thousand beats a minute. “Hi,” he says breathlessly.
“Hi,” Matt replies. “Did… Were you listening?”
“I am so fucking in love with you,” Nick blurts out before he can help himself. He hears Matt’s sharp intake of breath and holds his own in trepidation.
“I—You can’t just say that,” Matt retorts. Nick swears his heart stops, dread turning his blood cold. But Matt continues. “You can’t fucking say that when I’m a thousand miles away andI can’t kiss the shit out of you for it,Nicky. God, sweetheart.” He lets out a choked, quiet chuckle. “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”
“I mean… I do now.” Nick’s voice cracks. He leans back against the wall, trying to steady his breathing without Matt hearing him.Play it cool, Tiernan,he thinks, and then snorts. He’s never been cool in hislife, especially not when it comes to boys.
“Oh, baby…” Matt sighs, and Nick closes his eyes. It’s not fair that he can’t hug him, not after hearingthat. “I got your voicemail.”
Nick freezes. “Matt, I’msosorry. I?—”
“It’s okay,” Matt cuts in, and all the breath leaves Nick at once. “I mean, it’snot. I’m still pissed, and we are definitely talking about this properly when we’re both home, but… shit, Nick. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was busy, and then this was coming up and I thought… music has always said things better than I ever could, y’know? But if you think I could walk away from you now you’re even more oblivious than I thought.”
“Yeah?” Nick’s too relieved to be embarrassed by how much his voice quivers.
“I’m in this for the long haul, stud,” Matt confirms, soft but determined. Nick exhales shakily, a weight lifting off his chest.
“Remind me when you get home?”
“Getting a red-eye tomorrow night. Landing at fuck-o’clock in the morning.” Matt sounds as frustrated as Nick feels. “But I swear, babe, first thing after I’ve had a nap, I’m coming to yours. I’ve missed you so much.” He chuckles. “Let’s never fight again, yeah? It fucking sucks.”
Nick laughs wetly. “Agreed.”
The next two days are going to beagony.
Chapter Twenty-Five
[Video Description: Inside the locker room of the Nevada Dragons. It’s post-game, and the players are in their stalls in various levels of attire. They all look wet, and not just from sweat. Several empty bottles of Gatorade are littered across the floor. Everyone is beaming, looking up at their GM, who stands at the head of the room.]
“You all worked damn hard to get here, boys,” Tony Murphy declares. “You deserve this. But you know what else you deserve? Another goddamn Stanley Cup!”
[The whole room erupts into noise, feet stamping and sticks tapping and cheers so loud the audio crackles, and the video ends.]
