Work Text:
Sky Blue falls 0-2 to the Seattle Reign at Yurcak Field. It’s cold, windy, and wet, and everyone, even the victors, look miserable. The post-game encounter is the first time in almost a month that Hope and Kelley really speak to each other and it’s fleeting and unfulfilling. A quick run up in the rain for a flimsy one-armed hug in which Hope mutters, “Good game. See you in Winnipeg?” Kelley’s already shivering from the cold, but the way Hope’s breath brushes against her cheek has her shivering for another reason. She nods and they agree to meet each other in the parking lot later if there’s time.
***
Kelley spots her. Hope’s gait unmistakable and the way her ponytail swooshes. The bright headlights of the Reign bus silhouetting her profile and always present Gucci bag. She’s surrounded by teammates and Kelley knows it’s not the right time, but too many unanswered questions linger between them.
“Solo!” Kelley’s standing against the fence and waiting; wind and rain battering against the hood of her black raincoat. Hope turns and starts towards her. The laughter she shares with her teammates dissipates and her expression grows a little more hardened – nothing to be worried about, but Kelley knows this look. She’s only ever seen it on the pitch.
“You actually waited?”
As if Kelley would have actually left. It stings a little that Hope had intended on it.
“I’m good, thanks. How about you?” It comes out more dryly than Kelley had anticipated, but the essence of it reaches Hope. Her gaze softens amidst the elements blowing in her face and she almost looks guilty even though Kelley hasn’t accused her of anything. Yet.
Hope lets out a breath. “Sorry. How are you?”
Kelley knows that Hope doesn’t actually want to know the real answer because the real answer would entail her recalling the events of one particular night last month in San Diego, after a 3-0 win to China. A semi-drunken night that led Kelley into Hope’s hotel bed and then waking up alone, tangled in the sheets of said bed with her clothes still scattered along the floor. It’s a night she wants to remember and simultaneously forget.
Hope looks cold anyways with only her thin, hoodless Reign training jacket on.
“I’d be better if it’d stop raining.”
A smile finally hints at Hope’s lips and Kelley relaxes a little, but her guard is still up.
“You played good,” Hope says, her voice sincere.
“You were watching me?” Kelley seems surprised and doesn’t know whether to read into it or take it at face value. But this is Hope we’re talking about so she takes it at face value.
“I have to keep my eyes on everyone.”
“Right.” Kelley balls her hands into fists in her pocket. There’s been so little communication between the two of them that it’s like she forgets how to talk to Hope. It used to be so easy and natural; flirtatious and clever. After all, that is how she wound up in Hope’s bed in the first place. “Where are you staying? If it’s close by maybe we can, like, have dinner or something. My apartment is just – “
“Kelley…” Hope looks down at her feet and then back up. She wipes away the raindrops that blur her vision, smudging her mascara. Always in vain, that Hope. But she has to be when she’s constantly followed by the media and fans. Kelley knows she’s pushing it, but she misses Hope more than she cares to admit and maybe she’s a little hurt too, but having her so close and not being able to be with her is almost cruel. “I don’t – do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Kelley fights the urge to frown. “Why not?”
“I have a six AM flight tomorrow,” Hope tries a different angle, her eyes unable to meet Kelley’s. “I’ll see you in a week though, right?”
“But it’s only – never mind. Okay.”
Awkward silence had never been a thing between them until now. Kelley leans back on her heels and Hope looks behind her, gauging how much time she has left. Somehow Kelley expected Hope to be a little warmer and friendlier tonight, but suffice it to say, that’s what happens when you sleep with one of your best friends and then ignore each other for a few weeks. Things get weird.
“I should probably go.” Hope’s expression is flat. There’s no smile, no frown, and there’s no trademark furrow between her brows.
“’Kay.” It’s purposely short and curt and it’s meant as a jab because Kelley doesn’t have much else to say, but even with one syllable, it’s enough to make Hope step forward.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Kell.” She pulls Kelley’s hand out of her pocket and loosely holds it. It’s her attempt at smoothing things over because she’s missed having Kelley to talk to. Even in the rain, her touch is just as soft and warm as Kelley remembers and the memories leave her wistful. “We can go back to the way we were.”
Kelley plasters on a forced smile. She doesn’t want things to go back to how they were. She feels stupid for wanting more especially because she knew what Hope’s intentions were before any of this happened, yet she can’t help but think that if Hope would just try, maybe they could move in that direction.
Kelley gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “Get home safe, okay?”
Hope nods. Maybe it’s against her better judgment, but she leans forward and gives Kelley a quick kiss on the cheek, and maybe it lingers for just a few seconds longer than it should, but as quickly as it happens, Hope’s pulled away and is already on the bus before Kelley can get out another word and register the kiss.
***
The week goes by without a single word or text exchanged. It’s torture. The only way Kelley has any inkling to what Hope may be up to is from her tweets – even then they’re nothing of interest, aside from her bag breaking and endless flight delays. She thinks about texting her, to see if she had made it back to Seattle okay, but for whatever reason decides against it. She’ll let it play out and will deal with it when they see each other again in Winnipeg.
***
The game ends in a 1-1 draw, which when playing Canada feels like a loss. It’s mostly a quiet bus ride back for everyone, aside from the never-old jokes about Sydney scoring on her homeland in her homeland. Kelley laughs quietly with her head pressed against the rattling bus window while looking out pensively at the passing cars. It’s dark and the lights glare. She didn’t even get to suit up tonight and acts like she isn’t as bummed as she's letting on. The only person keen enough to be in tune to that is Hope, who sits beside her despite the dozen other empty seats. She offers her hoodie for Kelley to use as a pillow, which she takes and nuzzles her face into. It smells like her. Had things not unfolded the way they did, Hope would be resting her head on Kelley’s shoulder by now, probably playing with her hand or something, like they always did on long bus or train rides. Instead, she sits stiffly, afraid to make any contact and every so often glances at Kelley, who seems to be in her own little world.
Despite that, things have gotten a little bit better – they’re friendly again because they have to be, but they don’t talk about what happened. Whether it’s because Kelley is too chicken or Hope just won’t let her, they dance around it like it never happened. And Kelley can’t flirt with Hope in the same way that she used to now that their friendship has crossed over into this vague territory. There’s a lot of tiptoeing on eggshells and Kelley finds herself aching for Hope in the most inappropriate of times. Like during practices and group meals. Even right now.
***
Though it may be undeserved, when they get back to the hotel, most of the team finds themselves at the local bar down the street. No doubt it was Syd’s and Ashlyn’s idea.
Kelley decides to stay in and call it a strike of luck or a curse, but after an awkward encounter in the hallway where Hope literally walks into her coming around a corner, Kelley somehow winds up in her hotel room. Again.
She plays it off coolly like she hadn’t possibly been waiting for this to happen.
It’s quiet for a while with no one else to help fill their silences and everything that they refuse to talk about hangs thickly in the air around them. The fuzzy yellow glow of the wall lamps radiate throughout the room and Kelley sits on the edge of Becky’s bed, staring out the window at the bland scenery of low-rise buildings, neon signs, and headlights.
She can’t figure out how this happened. Catching feelings for Hope, that is. They’ve always had this crazy and weird chemistry, but up until the last time they were really together, Hope had never shown any signs of actually wanting Kelley in that way so she simply chalked it up to “just a crush.”
So had she ever really expected to end up naked in bed with her? No. Though she’d thought about it. And had she anticipated on wanting more? Definitely not. (Maybe a little).
Okay, so maybe Kelley’s crush is more than a crush and she’s beginning to realize that now because all she wants to do is cuddle up with Hope and watch a movie. Maybe let their hands wander. Maybe make-out a little. And then maybe fall asleep with her head on Hope’s chest while she holds her tightly.
Fine. She’s head over heels.
It isn’t like she hasn’t tried endless times to tell herself to get over it, to just be friends again because after all, that’s what they were great at. They flirted a lot, yeah, but that was just them. It’s how everybody saw them and nobody batted an eye and now that there are feelings involved, for Kelley anyways, she’s letting everything get so screwed up.
Somewhere behind her, seemingly oblivious to any of this, Hope rummages through her duffle bag and pulls out a bottle of champagne.
“Where on earth did you get that?” Kelley asks, turning around.
Hope shrugs. “I think the guy at reception has a crush on me.” Kelley wants to say who doesn’t, but keeps her mouth shut. “I had to hide it from Becky but I don’t think she’s coming back tonight because Zola’s in town too.”
Kelley heartbeat quickens and drops into her stomach. The thought that they might be alone again overwhelms her with an odd rush of emotion. This is exactly the way that their last tryst together started, except it was red wine and they actually had something to celebrate. Kelley wouldn’t call it a sparkle, but there’s this look in Hope’s eyes that she’s only seen once before and it kind of makes her go weak in the knees.
“Should we open it?” Hope gestures towards the bottle. Normally she wouldn’t ask, but the circumstance feels different so she does.
Kelley responds in the way of grabbing the two glasses by the coffee maker and placing them on the table next to Hope.
Pop goes the cork.
***
Hope looks stunning. She always does no matter the situation. The lighting is terrible, her hair is thrown into a messy bun, she isn’t wearing any make-up, and her sweatpants don’t match her t-shirt, but it doesn’t stop Kelley from gawking whenever she has a chance. She sits cross-legged in Becky’s bed while Hope sits in her own. The distance is good. It’s gives them the opportunity to just talk and sort themselves out. Hopefully go back to normal, even if it isn't exactly what Kelley wants.
“We could have won today,” Hope sighs, swirling the champagne in her glass as if it’s wine. It’s warm and bubbly as its trickles down her throat. “That fucking header. I saw it, I just couldn’t get to it on time.”
“At least you got minutes.” Kelley sips her champagne and lets it sit in her mouth for a while before swallowing it. It’s the nature of the game and she knows that, but it’s Canada, and she loves to play Canada.
“Maybe you were the magic on the pitch we needed.”
Kelley scoffs quietly. “I’m not magic.”
“You are though.” Hope straightens out her legs and adjusts her t-shirt so that it covers her midriff, which Kelley had been coyly staring at. “Sometimes I get distracted in net when you’re in front of me.”
“Bullshit.”
Hope’s face reddens like that was the lamest thing she’s ever said and then just shrugs. “Take that however you want.”
Kelley doesn’t respond. She looks at Hope over the top of her glass as she takes another sip. Their gazes meet for just a second and Kelley feels her body go warm.
It’s a farfetched, but she briefly entertains the idea that maybe Hope is doing this on purpose; the drinking and weird pseudo-flirting; because maybe she does want Kelley again and this is the only way she knows how. She’s quick to realize how naïve she’s being, though. The way that Hope might want her is vastly different from the way she wants Hope.
For Kelley, it’s about the flowers and handholding; the goodnight FaceTimes and good morning texts; all the little things. She knows Hope better than anyone (or at least she did) and Hope just wants the now and the instant gratification. It’s how she is about most things in life. Except for her career, which she firmly believes in earning.
Besides, emotionally, Hope is a bit of a basket case. She could never give her the things she really wants. They may be cut from the same cloth, but somewhere in there, the fibres just don’t completely match up.
***
Slowly, the bottle of champagne becomes less and less full and Kelley’s reasoning may not be so irrational after all because one second they’re on separate beds talking about the weather and other various trivial topics, and the next Hope is beside Kelley and touching the side of her face like she wants to kiss her.
Butterflies in Kelley’s stomach flutter like they’re trying to escape. Everything is confusing and deep down, Kelley knows this is as far as they go. Just the physical stuff. And though it might have only happened once, she’s missed this so badly. The closeness, the touching, the looks. It’s mostly the way that Hope looks at her that makes her swoon.
The whole thing is a bad idea. Kelley will just end up getting hurt again. She sees the door; she could just get up and leave and save herself the pain, but when Hope runs her thumb across her bottom lip and Kelley sees the way she licks her own in preparation, Kelley says fuck it. There’s something about Hope that makes getting hurt almost…worth it?
It’s crazy. She knows that.
Hope’s mouth is as soft and warm as she remembers. It’s gentle and teasing, but it’s also strong and dominating. She kisses Kelley in a way that she’s never been kissed before and it literally takes her breath away. It’s one of those kisses that she’ll never be able to talk about because to talk about it would be to share that quiet unspoken bond that is only hers and Hope’s.
And she doesn’t want to share that.
Kelley’s resolve is slowly slipping away and it’s only when Hope’s hand falls low on her stomach and tugs at her shirt that she leans back and pulls Hope on top of her, taking all of her weight. They breathe in unison and Kelley is beside herself. Somewhere in the commotion, what little that remains of the champagne gets knocked off the bed and spills. It lies on the floor where it won’t be tended to until the morning. If at all.
There’s still time to back out. For Kelley to save her dignity. Her mother had taught her to always stand up for her feelings and right now she’s being a coward; keeping quiet and letting Hope walk all over them. But Hope is inevitable in that way; the way she kisses Kelley so deliberately, like maybe she’s been habouring feelings of her own for her from the start. It gives Kelley the tiniest, most dangerous, potentially earth shattering glimmer of hope – the what if – which is why it’s impossible for her to say no and walk away.
Gradually, articles of clothing start to come off. First it’s Hope t-shirt, then it’s Kelley’s pants. Next, Hope’s bra gets flung across the room and Kelley sucks in a breath when she feels the hand that slips between her thighs and yanks off her underwear like she’s been damn well waiting to do it.
It’s flesh-to-flesh contact that she’s been waiting for and when it comes, oh dear God, everything lights on fire and she’d go back on everything she believes in to have it again and again.
***
Hope will be gone in the morning and Kelley knows that. The bed will once again be cold and empty when she wakes and she’ll be left with this feeling of vacancy and heartache. Maybe if she stays up all night she can preserve the time they have together, but sooner or later she will succumb to sleep and this will all be but another notch in Hope’s travelling bedpost. Kelley tries not to think about it and Hope makes it so easy when her tongue finds the spot that makes her back arch off the mattress. But all Kelley wants is for Hope to stay, perhaps have breakfast with her in the morning. She can’t have all of Hope though, and it’s defeating.
So until they see each other in June when Sky Blue takes on the Seattle Reign again, Kelley will relish every touch and every kiss because she doesn’t know if she’ll get to experience them again, however fleeting it may be. She’ll savour the way Hope practically cries her name into her mouth when she curls her fingers forward, committing the sound to memory, and most importantly, she’ll put on this brave face that this, for her, is also “just sex.”
See, the thing is, Kelley’s just never been good at a one-night stand.