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“That’s much more American,” Alex told him. “In the UK, we get the job of public shaming done by means of the stocks and the pillory.”
“You’re a great comfort,” Jeff told him.
“You know,” Marco put in, directed at Alex, “you’d think that someone who enjoys publicity as much as your dad would be all over the idea of a son who plays for Queen and country.”
Alex sighed. “I think the problem is as much with it being football as it’s about the fact that I chose it for myself.”
“Oh, yes.” Jeff nodded sagely, lips pursed. “How very dare you live your own life?”
“Blasphemy,” Marco agreed while Lee stayed quiet, not sure whether his friendship with Alex was already at the stage where he could openly criticise Alex’s parents. Then again, he’d done it before, so…
“Yeah, mate,” he told Alex. “It’s like you have free will or something.”
Jeff gasped. “Surely not.”
Alex shot them a flat look. “You’re all hilarious.”
“We try,” Jeff said modestly.
From there, the conversation moved on to the four group-stage matches scheduled for the day, most notably Belgium against Portugal. Lee was glad to see that by the time his coffee arrived, all traces of sadness had faded from Alex’s expression. It didn’t mean anything—or if it did, then only that he was coming to consider Alex a friend and preferred to see him happy rather than sad.
Nothing to it. Certainly no cause for concern.
Once more, but with conviction.
Posted by@AlexanderBeaufort (June 17, 4:27 p.m.):
Brilliant start, couldn’t be happier! (Please hold your EARL-y day jokes, thank you.) Next up: Japan!
Things changed between them.
It was in the details, like how they sometimes brushed their teeth side by side now, talking through the toothpaste foam, or how Alex no longer stepped out of the room when his father called to criticise Alex’s eloquence in interviews. After calls like that, Lee would draw Alex into a conversation about something easy, even silly—like the top three things they would eat if nutrition guidelines didn’t matter. But it was also in the big things, like how they talked freely now, how well they combined during practice games and had taken to sharing a table for four with Jeff and Oliver more often than not.
And it was in how Alex was fully aware of Lee’s attention on him and didn’t do a whole lot to discourage it.
He should have. But every time he glanced over his shoulder and caught Lee looking, especially in the mornings when Alex was choosing his outfit for breakfast and Lee’s defences seemed more translucent, a little thrill travelled up Alex's spine. So he pretended not to notice and kept doing what he was doing.
Until the fourth time it happened.
Alex was buttoning up his jeans when he noticed Lee’s gaze tracking the movement. The other times, Alex had simply acted like he hadn’t noticed but something possessed him to still his hands and smirk. “My eyes are up here.”
Lee flinched, blushing. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Still sprawled in bed, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Not trying to make this weird, I swear. Just … been a while, you know.”
The blush was sweet. The way Lee seemed downright uncomfortable wasn’t, so Alex waited until Lee shot him a glance from underneath his lashes, then he unpacked his brightest smile. “Why would it be weird? You’re gay, this is a safe space, and I am the product of a family that selects spouses for desirable physical attributes, among other things. Plus” —he leaned forward and aimed for a conspiratorial whisper— “I’m a professional athlete. The body comes with the territory.”
A momentary frown slid over Lee’s face before he shook his head, smiling back. “Way to objectify yourself.”
“It’s a gift.”
“Sure seems like it.” Lee rubbed a self-conscious hand over the morning stubble dusting his cheeks, face still a little red. “You know that’s not true though, right?”
Alex paused in his consideration of two T-shirts that were admittedly quite similar. “That I’m working hard for this body?”
“That you’re, like … no more than a product of your family.” Lee looked distinctly wary, as though he already regretted saying anything in the first place, yet he pushed on regardless. “You’re more than just some combination of DNA that your parents ordered from Stork Ltd. Like,youchose to play football and made it all the way to here, and I doubt your dad’s got much of a sense of humour to speak of, and it wasn’t some genetic mishap that meant you’re fine with my sexuality—that’s all you.”
Tell him.
Alex selected one of the T-shirts, just for something to do with his hands, and pulled it on. “You make me sound a lot cooler than I am.”
