Eddie was most definitely not expecting ever to see this particular one night stand again, but here he was, at Brendan’s soccer thing.
Earlier that day he had recalled the blue streaks he’d had in his fist the night before, and felt inspired for a change. He couldn’t bring himself to actually cut his hair, still believing that his mop of woolly darkness was by far his most attractive feature, but he wanted to try something. So he persuaded Lance to bleach then dye a lock of his hair a dark pink. He assessed the damage afterwards, Lance chewing his lip in the background.
“I like it.” Eddie said eventually. Lance was still not convinced.
“I can’t believe you made me do this, darling. Your hair is going to feel like straw.”
“Then I’ll have to come on back here so you can treat it with loving and tender care, like you always do.”
Lance rolled his eyes, but he waved Eddie away before he could break his heart any further.
So he had arrived at Brendan’s soccer thing with his new hair, telling himself it had nothing to do with the fact that the first time he’d seen Christian, his hair had also been pink. A pale pastel colour that was beyond lovely. Of course, Eddie had also been higher than a kite at that point, so the memory might be tainted. But he had still mourned it silently when Christian refused to ever dye again.
The group had looked but hadn’t commented, but Eddie always watched for that little shy smile of Christian’s, the pearlescent shine of his light blue eyes. Fuck, he was so ruined.
And then, surprise of surprises, here he saw the blue-streaked bastard who had left a little half necklace of hickeys on his collar bone the night before. He looked as angry today as he had been ferocious and Eddie’s eyebrows perked.
“Evans.” He was saying to Brendan in a voice that sounded hoarse and rasping, as if he had been shouting for hours before. When he caught sight of Eddie, meeting his eyes briefly, he gave no other sign that he knew him, but his scowl deepened, shadowing his eyes. Eddie’s feet came down from the seats in front of him with a bang.
“Hello.” Eddie said, but little Blue Streak turned on his heel and went off.
“Well, isn’t he friendly?” Eddie remarked, watching.
“That’s Em. Not very social but has a real talent for the game.”
“Hmmm.”
“You know him?” Bren asked.
“Not at all.” Eddie said. “Anyway darlings, let’s be off. See you later, Snow-child.” He said to Christian as he walked by, using his personal Eddie-given nickname.
∞
But this was…a slight wrinkle in Eddie’s fabric of mystery. The whole reason he had driven thirty five minutes out of town was to keep his little liaisons separate. But here was Blue Streaks, and goodness didn’t he just looked so pissed when he spotted Eddie, which showed he was just as surprised to see him as Eddie was. And none too happy about it either.
Eddie felt a rather unsatisfying sense of rightness at having guessed it correctly; Blue Streaks was still in the closet and was afraid Eddie would out him. Well, perhaps he should rectify the assumption. Or perhaps he would let him stew. It wasn’t really his problem after all. And it wasn’t like Eddie would actually go spilling the news of their brief fling all over the place. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tumbled with someone who preferred to keep their sexuality between the darkness of the sheets.
∞
A few days later, they were once again at Christian’s and Laurel’s apartment. Semester was coming to a close and that meant they would be leaving soon. It meant that Eddie would actually have to go home, as he was obligated to go at least once a year. And his sister had whined to him that he had to come because Sasha and Antonio were asking for him.
Christian had insisted on cooking and dragged Laurel into it, who had promptly nominated Jordan to take her place, while she showered. Eddie suspected that sometimes Laurel deliberately didn’t do things that were considered typically in the female realm, just to prove a point. Or maybe she just liked being cooked for, with which he could sympathise. The sum total of his cooking experience had been his one breakfast of gratitude the morning after he first met Christian and the rest of them. Personally, he preferred not to get involved in the kitchen. Brendan on the other hand loved it, this being the reason why Christian felt guilty enough to take over. Brendan technically didn’t live there, even though they had since replaced their ratty couch with a fold out one so that Brendan could have comfortable sleepovers. Since he had spent almost every night for the last two weeks in bed with Christian, this meant that the couch was now officially for Eddie’s use. It was touching, and sweet, and surprisingly, Laurel’s idea.
There was no love lost between Eddie and Laurel. Even though, over the past year, they had developed a grudging tolerance of one another, Eddie doubted they would ever be close. The main reason being that Laurel could not stop trying to dig into Eddie’s real identity. Eddie found it amusing to tease her but it caused tension. So there was a kind of relationship there, but Eddie knew Laurel would never be able to fully let go, because in her mind you could only trust someone if you knew their serial number. He often wondered how she even managed to maintain a relationship, with that level of trust issues, but the fact that Jordan was as three dimensional as cardboard probably helped. Lovely boy, but he had no layers. What you saw was what you got. And of course, he adored Laurel. Heteros. Who could explain them?
Brendan was seated beside him at the little round kitchen table, watching Christian. Eddie was very deliberately not watching Christian, and distracted himself with his phone. But eventually Brendan turned to him.
“So, do you know Em?”
“Who?” Eddie replied, not looking up.
“Em. The guy you saw at the match.”
“Bren-bear, as much as I would love to claim that I know every choice piece of ass on campus, I cannot. Although I’m sure I would have remembered someone’s whose name is just a letter.”
Another aspect of the problem: Brendan. Eddie didn’t have friends, so that meant he didn’t have best friends. But if he did, Brendan would be it. He was lovely and solicitous and could cook, so he had definite merit. And, perversely, not only had Eddie helped Brendan find his courage to come out as bisexual, but they had bonded over Brendan’s budding Christian crush. Lord, his life was so tragic it was quintessentially Shakespearean!
Brendan carried on speaking to him but his eyes drifted back to the love of his life, who was pushing something around in a pan, looking uncertain.
“I don’t know. No one knows anything about him, he just showed up last month, and coach told us he had made the team. That’s it. I thought since you always seem to have your fingers in every pie…”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid I cannot help you with the mysterious Em. You’re nosy enough, just go and pester him until he gives in.”
“Not likely. He never says anything, even if you’re talking directly to him. And if he does, he has this crazy deep voice, but rough, like he’s got laryngitis. I think the most he talks is at game time, like it’s the only time he really loosens up enough.”
Interesting. Eddie thought.
“Are you asking me to find things out about him? Are you worried for something?” Eddie asked then, looking up at him. Bren’s eyes flicked his way.
“No, nothing like that. He’s just a mystery you know?”
“Yes, and I do know how much you and your lovely sister cannot stand to leave a present unwrapped.” Eddie replied sardonically.
“Uh, Bren?” Christian called.
Bren was instantly alert. “Yup?”
“I don’t know. It’s burning?”
Bren was up in less time than it took Chrissy to finish the sentence. Eddie got up and went to look out the window instead. If he didn’t know that he wasn’t going to see any of them for the next six weeks, he would really just go and get some Thai, rather than be here in self-imposed torture. Jordan, who had been shoved out of the cooking now, came to stand next to him, offering a beer.
Eddie sneered, but took it anyway. Any port in a storm.
“So, you going home for summer break?” Jordan asked.
“Aren’t we all?” Eddie replied enigmatically, arching his eyebrows.
“And where is home exactly?”
Eddie almost giggled. “You sly dog, are you trying to fish for information on behalf of your sweetheart? You shouldn’t, you know. You’re about as stealthy as a brick.”
Jordan shrugged, not ashamed at being caught out. “It’s just so I can say I tried. I don’t care.”
“It doesn’t bother you in the slightest that I may be an axe murderer in my spare time?”
“I highly doubt you’re an axe murderer.”
“Thank you for the faith, though it may be misplaced.”
The jock shrugged. “It’s like Christian said once, we know all the important stuff.”
Yes, Christian had said that. Eddie quickly skated away from the remark. “Well, you still don’t know my name. It’s not Rumpelstiltskin by the way. Close though.”
Jordan laughed and took a swig of his beer. “Anyway, enjoy summer break. Whatever you end up doing.”
Eddie inclined his head slightly in a sort of bow. “I thankee good sir. And you as well. Although, if you can get Madam Laurel to loosen up a little, it would be highly appreciated.”
“Nope. She’s perfect.”
Eddie snorted.
“Yeah, I know you two have it in for each other. But I know her in another way.”
“Please don’t say carnal.”
Jordan shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean.” But he didn’t elaborate, for which Eddie was glad. He wasn’t even remotely eager to have the inside intel on Laurel’s love life.
“You know,” Jordan went on.” I don’t mind, that you want to keep your secrets and stuff. But just so you know and I can say I’ve said it, if you ever do feel like sharing just a little, you could. We’re all here, you know?”
Eddie looked at him appraisingly. Jordy, showing he had dimension? Jordan missed the look, doing that thing that some men do, holding their beer between their legs and looking at nothing for hours.
“Cos that’s what friends do. Open up.”
Eddie felt slightly off balance from the topic but recovered quickly. “Jordan, if I opened up, you’d all be covered in glitter.”
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