Chapter Text
Football was an old game. The history of which was definitely lost on Colin, but that much he knew. It was old. Older than him, than his coaches, than his grandparents. And his grandparents had already shunned it, so how could an ancient game like football ever understand something like this? Colin didn’t even understand it half of the time. Rhys said it should be simple. Maybe if Rhys could be seen with him… maybe then Colin would believe that.
But Colin relied on other simplicities. Like owning a wicked car and having a wicked job. Like cocking about with Isaac- the entire team actually, now that the cowboy had taken charge. Like getting drunk at clubs and bars and being able to afford an Uber home. Like nobody yelling slurs to his face anymore after fucking up during training. Yeah, life had taken a turn for the better. But he did wish…
Colin reckoned he should let his presence be known to the handsome man in his kitchen. But leaning up against the entrance and watching Rhys cook was undeniably one of the joys in Colin’s life. Rhys’ curly black hair flopped with his head, which bobbed along with some 70’s rock song Colin didn’t know. Rhys was a bit more tanned than Colin and had deep brown eyes that had a playful gaze to them. But one that was trustworthy and sometimes a bit worn too. Colin would've watched the misguided dancing forever if Bear didn’t come roaring down the corner. The Border Collie’s paws came up to meet Colin’s hips as Bear huffed and twisted with joy.
“Hey, little athlete,” Colin beamed as he bent down to pet the black and white dog. Her paws tapped on the tile floor as Bear did her welcome-home shuffle.
“You’re back early,” Rhys delighted, probably assuming Colin only just walked in.
Colin got up and patted Bear on her side. “No, I’m not…”
“Aye, you are. It’s only five.”
“It’s six, Rhys,” Colin stated as he walked over and pulled out his phone. Colin flicked it on and over the picture of Bear it read 17:56.
“Oh bloody hell, are ye serious?” Rhys yelped in a thick Irish accent as he ran from the kitchen. Colin couldn’t help the grin on his face and shook his head at Rhys’ retreating back. He turned around to see what was on the stove. Pasta sat boiling in a pan and Rhys had been stirring some white sauce with a wooden spoon. Colin picked it up and continued the work.
Rhys came storming back through the living room into the kitchen, shrugging on a polite black blouse. “I can’t be late. She’ll kill me, she will,” he panicked to himself.
“Take an Uber, yeah?” Colin insisted. “Just in case you won’t be able to walk back.”
Rhys hastily buttoned the shirt, eyes jumping around the kitchen counters. “Would do, love,” he answered, head too busy to process the joke, “if I could find me fecking phone.”
“Have you checked by the speaker?” Colin suggested, returning his gaze to the sauce and stirring it slowly. Rhys ran back through the flat. Colin heard the rock song click off and Rhys called out “Got it!” before his footsteps hastened back into the kitchen.
“How come you cooked if you were meeting your mam tonight?” Colin wondered.
“For you,” Rhys replied absentmindedly. Colin looked over to see Rhys bent over the kitchen counter looking at his phone, hands still busy with his buttons. “Uber will be here in 4,” he announced as he finally stood up straight and still and looked at Colin. Rhys did the last button as he sighed. “Sorry,” he scolded himself, walking up to Colin and cupping his face. “How was your day?”
“It was good, Rhys. Don’t worry about it,” Colin chuckled.
“Good,” Rhys exhaled, placing a gentle kiss on Colin’s lips. Colin tugged at Rhys’ arm and told him to “Get a move on now or your mam’s shoe will be up your arse permanently.”
“Oh and that would be a right tragedy like,” Rhys cringed, as he backed away from Colin to grab his phone. “How would you ride me then?”
“Oh, I see. Maybe I’d just have to become the lazy one… On second thought," Colin reached out to tug on Rhys’ collar, "how about you stick around a little while longer?”
“Ha! You wish,” Rhys laughed as he moved past him into the hall, followed closely by his tail-wagging dog.
Colin heard him putting on his shoes and grabbing his jacket. “Don’t you want me to be happy?” Colin challenged. Keys jangled and Rhys, wearing his coat and dress shoes, came back around the corner and grinned. “Only when it suits me.”
Rhys petted Bear before coming forward and giving Colin a quick kiss and saying a practised “Bye, love.” Colin answered “Bye,” back and watched as Bear trailed her owner to the door. “Oh and please feed Bear, I’ve not had the time,” Rhys asked. “Course,” Colin promised and with another “Bye,” the front door opened and slammed shut.
A defeated Bear shuffled back around the corner.
Colin gave the dog a pitying smile as he bent down to pet her. “Knowing his mam he won’t be gone long.” Bear snorted.
Colin managed to burn the sauce and undercook the pasta. Both of which he still ate. He fed Bear and settled down onto the couch to watch whatever was on. When reruns of Top Gear started, Colin heard the front door open, sending Bear off. “How was it?” Colin called from his spot on the couch.
“Fine.” The door slammed shut.
Decidedly not fine then.
Colin sat up more. He craned his neck to look through the kitchen into the hall. Rhys was shrugging his coat off slowly, shoulders slumped. Bear was eagerly dancing at his feet but Rhys didn’t seem to notice. Only when he bent down to take off his shoes did he catch sight of his fluffy friend. He didn’t smile though as he softly stroked Bear’s fur, gaze going back off into the distance.
“Rhys?” Colin nudged.
Rhys’ eyes flickered to him. There it was, that worn look. Colin was proper concerned now. “What happened?” he worried. Rhys’ lips tugged a little and he shook his head slightly. He looked back down and worked off his shoes. Colin’s chest ached. Fair enough, Rhys didn’t have to talk about it. Especially not to him. Colin understood. He wasn’t any good at this sort of thing after all.
Rhys walked over, Bear trailing him like usual. Colin sat up more and Rhys sunk down beside him. Colin didn’t want to nudge Rhys again, but he hated his sunken pose and couldn’t look away. Rhys looked back. In the background, Jeremy Clarkson detailed some shiny car's horsepower and engine type.
“My sister’s getting married,” Rhys sighed dejectedly. Colin felt a surge of energy in him that told him this was good news. News to jump up and congratulate Rhys for. But Rhys looked…
“That’s… What’s- uh…” Colin faltered.
Rhys smiled a little at Colin’s vocal stumble, but then his eyes saddened again. “Kept asking me about my plus one. Then mam asking why I don’t have anyone yet. When I’ll get married. When I’ll get her grandkids and the like…”
Colin knew this bothered Rhys. Not that Rhys didn’t understand the situation or that he pressured Colin to be public about them, but it hurt him. Rhys was the type to flaunt his partner; to rant about them to his friends and family; to marry them in a grand celebration; to carry them to the altar with the world watching. Colin was already watched though. And Colin was afraid. He knew his world: one where faggot and gay were normal swears, casually thrown about to mean nothing. One where the two or three openly gay players were never signed again. One where the Chelsea rent boy chant was still shouted from the stands. Even if it had officially become a hate crime. But in honesty, the crazy ones, the ones that would leave Colin bleeding in a ditch - they were not deterred by laws or police. They would feel encouraged. After all, it was all taunts and when they started banning them… It was like the teacher telling the students off for bullying.
So Colin was scared.
He and Rhys hardly went out in public together. And when they did, they never touched. They didn’t even take photos that could be construed as anything more than friends. They were careful. Extremely careful. And that hurt Rhys every time. So all Colin could think to do was nod tensely and look away. He could feel the shame burning in his face and the heavy - painful fall and rise of his chest.
Rhys reached over and grabbed one of Colin’s arms and swung it around himself before leaning into Colin’s side. Rhys’ head nestled into the brunette’s neck and shoulder and Colin let his own rest atop his partners. Rhys played with Colin’s hand whilst the shiny cars got shiny montages on tv. Bear hopped onto the couch curling up by Rhys’ outstretched legs.
Rhys turned his head in the embrace, gently pressing his forehead against Colin’s cheek. Rhys inhaled. Then in hushed tones, he assured, “It’s okay, Col. I love you more than I want to marry you. You’re worth the hiding.” Rhys squeezed his hand a little and smiled softly. Then he turned his face back to the tv.
“I love you too,” was what Colin breathed back as he pressed a kiss to Rhys’ unruly curls, guilt eating at his insides.