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“Don’t say I never did nothing for you,” Zero says, low and teasing, when he pulls back to get a look at Jude’s dumbfounded expression. He can feel eyes on them, all thirty-thousand pairs of them, and their scrutiny is the type that makes his skin crawl with the feeling that someone might catch a glimpse of something he doesn’t want seen.
But he keeps his gaze on Jude’s and takes a long, steadying breath, watches the smile spread slowly across Jude’s face and feels calmer to see it there.
“You - ” Jude starts but Zero cuts him off with a shake of his head.
“I’m gonna go change. Meet me back at your place?” He shouldn’t have to ask. It should be a given. He’s done it, now. It’s what Jude wanted, it’s everything he can give, and his heart is suddenly hammering furiously in his chest and he can’t tell whether that’s because it’s sinking in, really sinking in now that everyone knows about his and there’s no going back, or because he’s terrified in this split second as he waits for Jude’s response that it’s not going to be enough, that Jude’s going to walk away from him again.
But Jude just lets out a small laugh, his eyes never leaving Zero’s, never straying to take in the storm of photographers and journalists swelling around them, and gives him a quick nod. Zero’s chest loosens and he pats Jude lightly on the cheek before turning to push through the scrum to try and get to the locker room, ignoring the questions shouted at him from all angles.
He can still hear the chaos even after he gets off the court, lets out a breath of relief when he hears Pete’s voice tell the crowd, “Uh, I think we’re gonna have a closed locker room today, folks. Sorry.”
And suddenly Zero feels trapped, stuck in place, unable to keep moving towards the locker room where the rest of the guys are going to come trickling in any moment, unable to go back out to the court, unsure what to do now, really, until Pete nearly knocks into him as he heads down the hallway.
They stare at each other for a long moment, both wide-eyed and Pete looking about as nervous as Zero feels. He doesn’t have a clue what to say, which is feeling scarily common lately.
“So…” Pete starts slowly, like he’s speaking to a frightened animal. “That was… what was that?”
He doesn’t really have an answer, hasn’t even had time to figure out what the hell he’s done for himself yet, let alone how to explain it all to anyone else, so instead he straightens himself up and schools his expression, throws Pete a cocky grin and says, shrugging, “Aw, y’know how it is, Coach. Guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do,” and slaps Pete on the arm before heading off down the hall to the locker room.
He’s sure that Pete is staring after him, confused and maybe still shocked, but Zero doesn’t look back.
-
My place is mobbed.
That’s not really surprising, especially considering Zero ended up having to leave his car in the parking lot, call a car service, and sneak out of the arena through a service entrance and get picked up in order to get past the media still swarming around the place. His condo building is probably just as bad, but he has the driver take a swing past it just to confirm before he texts Jude back.
Same. Hotel?
I’ll find someplace. Because Jude is always on top of things
He smiles to himself and thinks, self-indulgently, hopefully he’ll be on top of me pretty soon, and kind of wishes he had someone here to say it out loud to. He’ll probably try to repeat it later to Jude, and he can’t stop himself from grinning wider, feeling lighter and easier than he has in months as he thinks I can have this, despite the lingering anxiety about what else this is going to entail and what shit is going to be waiting for him out there tomorrow.
For the moment, he lets his head fall back against the seatback and closes his eyes, thinking about Jude’s hands and the way Jude tends to press his fingers against Zero’s jaw as they kiss.
His phone buzzes in his lap a few minutes later with the name of a hotel and a promise to let him know what room number once Jude is checked in. Zero smiles again and resists the urge to text back with a line, something scripted and cheap that he might say to anyone else, and instead just jotts off a quick see you soon.
His phone buzzes again, but it’s not Jude this time. It’s Lucas, trying to call him, and Zero hits the button to decline it immediately. Another call comes a moment later from one of the other agents at his firm, and after he declines that one too comes another from an unknown number, then one from one of the partners at the agency, then Lucas again, and Zero can feel the anxiety starting to creep in, knowing that this is just the beginning.
Lucas texts him in a series of four or five, looking increasingly alarmed.
dude, wtf??
call me back
zero, seriously, we need to talk NOW
I’m getting a shitload of calls, we need to talk about your statement
CALL ME BACK
Zero ignores them all.
607. Jude’s text breaks through the flurry of other messages and alerts like a beacon a few minutes later, and Zero sighs in relief to see it, then smiles when Jude follows it up with another text, 24hr room service. you want something to eat?
Zero can’t think of how to respond to that, his chest too tight and his heart beating too fast and his whole body too seized with emotion to do anything but smile and think, I love him.
-
“Hi,” Jude says when he opens the hotel room door, grinning wildly and looking like he’s nearly vibrating.
Zero can’t help smiling back and says, softly, “Hi.”
His phone breaks the moment, the fucking thing, ringing loud and jarring and angry, and Zero grabs it from his pocket to power it off, ignoring the notification on the screen that tells him he has 37 missed calls and 48 messages.
He shoves the phone back in his pocket and takes a breath, and all of a sudden he’s not really sure what else to do or to say and can’t even get himself to move across the threshold and actually enter the room until Jude grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him in, slamming the door and wrapping his hands around the back of Zero’s neck to pull him in and kiss him.
Zero’s never felt quite so desperate for someone. Desperate for sex, desperate for a hot body, sure. But never so much for a specific person, and being able to indulge in it is both freeing and terrifying.
I never wanted this, he thinks as he runs his hands down Jude’s sides and Jude moans a little into his mouth, and he has to pull away for a moment to take a breath, too caught up in it all. He keeps his eyes closed, though, rests his forehead against Jude’s and repeats the words out loud.
Jude pulls back from him, startled, and Zero knows he’s said something stupid - again - but he needs Jude to understand.
“I mean it,” he says, opening his eyes and keeping his hands firmly gripped on Jude’s waist so the other man can’t pull away. “I didn’t want this. I had my whole life set, on track, and then you showed up and - and I can’t think straight anymore.”
“Zero…” Jude starts, still trying to pull away and looking somewhat destroyed because he doesn’t get it, but Zero’s not going to watch him walk away yet again.
“I have never said ‘I love you’ to anyone and meant it. Never wanted to, either.”
It’s easier to be selfish. It’s easier to be the playboy everyone (now) sees him as. Was easier to be the good churchgoing boy (who fucked his way through every city his teams stopped in) that everyone saw him as before. It’s easier to think only of himself, his own desires, his own goals, and he’s still not sure he really knows how to care about someone else.
He needs to touch Jude, be close to him, and that alone is terrifying as he lets his head rest against Jude’s again. “You turned my life upside down.”
“I know,” Jude replies, voice low, as he relaxes a bit under Zero’s hands. “I never expected you to do that,” Jude admits, which cuts at Zero even though Jude had every right to feel it. Zero himself even said he couldn’t give Jude what Jude wanted, and he’d believed it yesterday. Hell, he’d believed it three hours ago. He’d believed it right up until he pressed his mouth against Jude’s on the court and thought Maybe I can have this too…
“You said no,” Jude goes on, and this time when he pulls back, Zero lets him go. “You said you couldn’t, and I was trying to move on from you.”
Zero tries not to wince, tries not to picture Jude and Lucas and Lucas kissing Jude, Jude going down on him, Lucas wrapped up around Jude… and frankly, those two together? Probably hot as hell, and in another life Zero would’ve loved to be there for it. What cuts at him is the trying to move on from you, the fact that, yeah, Zero never wanted any of this, and then he came so close to losing it all.
Still, it’s never been about not loving Jude. “You acted like it was no big deal. You kept giving me ultimatums like being with you, being out in the open would be no big thing, we’d just be any -” He waves his hand around, searching for the word, and it’s still uncomfortable to say it. “Any regular couple or whatever.”
“I never thought that,” Jude replies defensively, hands on hips now and looking every bit like the agent-turned-exec. It’s a serious turn on, and also kind of annoying. “And I wasn’t trying to give you an ultimatum, I never wanted to force you into anything.”
“You told me it had to be out in the open or nothing,” Zero shoots back in a raised voice, unsure when they started fighting. “You walked away from me!”
“Because I was trying to let you go!” Jude’s flushed, beautifully angry, forever creating this crazy mix of emotions in Zero that could take him a lifetime to sort through.
Jude goes on, voice breaking a little, “It took me twenty-five years to finally realize that my dad doesn’t actually want me. My whole life, I’ve just wanted someone to want me, and I can’t wait a quarter of a century for you.”
It’s painful to hear, to know how wounded Jude still is by the acceptance that Oscar would never be what Jude thought he could be, but still, Zero’s pissed off and worried now for a whole new set of reasons.
“It was never about not wanting you, and you know it,” Zero bites back, pointing a finger at Jude.
Jude glares back at him defiantly. “Fine. Not wanting the same things as me, then. I wasn’t trying to force you into anything, but if you want - if you wanted different things than me, I needed to let you go.”
“I did want you,” Zero sighs, tense and deflated all at once, his voice tight. “I always wanted you, and I’ve never - in my whole life, baseketball’s been the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.”
It’s not really true. Basketball, and power - money, fame, women, men, top dog status - that’s what he’s wanted. But it’s all kind of the same to him now, for all intents and purposes, even if it might’ve been more simple for him once.
“The court, the ball, that was all I had growing up,” he goes on, taking a step towards Jude without really thinking about it. Jude doesn’t back down. “This is what I’ve spent my entire life working for, and then suddenly there’s you, but I couldn’t just let it all go. This is going to change everything.”
Jude shakes his head, looks away from Zero and around at the blandly perfect, pristine room around them, and says, his expression pained, “so then what happened tonight? You could’ve just let me move on.”
Zero grabs him, wraps his hands around Jude’s jaw, unable not to touch him anymore, and forces Jude to look at him. “I couldn’t. I saw you moving on and I couldn’t do it. You’re too important.”
There’s a long beat of silence as they stare at each other, and then Jude breaks into a smile that’s almost blinding. Zero can barely stand to look at him.
This could all go to shit tomorrow. He could lose his job, could lose all of his endorsements - probably will at least lose those - could be forced out of the locker room and get shit thrown at him in every city they visit this season. He might hook up with some hot girl or hot guy who crosses his path and he might break Jude’s heart or do something else to piss Jude off, and it’s all just completely terrifying and hard to look at how beautiful and happy Jude is, knowing that he’s responsible for it and how easily he could fuck it all up.
“I never wanted this,” Zero repeats, close enough again to Jude to feel Jude’s breath against his face. “To really love someone, to need someone like this, but it’s, it feels…”
What he’d felt when Jude returned his words, I love you too, he can’t articulate it, that kind of happiness and clarity and relief like he’s never felt before. And maybe he doesn’t need to, because Jude leans into him again and presses his mouth against Zero’s gently, and that unfamiliar happiness floods through him again.
-
Much later, when they’re naked and in bed and pressed against one another, sweaty and breathing heavily and unable to stop touching each other, Zero drags his hands down Jude’s back and noses up under Jude’s jaw and tries not to let the doubts creep back into his mind.
Jude sighs into Zero’s hair, rubs one hand up and down Zero’s forearm and shifts against him slowly, lazily. Zero turns in his arms, puts his back to Jude and releases a long exhale as one of Jude’s arms winds around him almost on instinct, fingers coming to rest against Zero’s own, winding between and stroking mildly.
“Can I tell you something?” Zero asks softly, hoping Jude won’t hear him.
Jude does, though, murmuring a soft “hmm” in reply.
Zero closes his eyes, his heart beating heavily, and says, “I’m kinda scared.”
Jude’s arm tightens around him. “I know,” he says gently, breath warming Zero’s neck. “I am too. About everything - my phone’s been blowing up all night and I couldn’t even face Lionel after the game. I ended up hiding in one of the concession stands until the media thinned out and then snuck out with a couple of the beer venders.”
It makes Zero smile, picturing Jude crouched in his perfectly pressed suit behind a counter among the frozen hotdogs and bags of popcorn. He lets Jude thread their fingers together and presses himself more firmly back against Jude’s chest.
“And,” Jude goes on slowly, more quiet now, more hesitant. “I’m - I keep thinking about whether I’ll be worth it all for you. I do know how hard this is going to be, how much this is going to change things for you, and for me, and - ”
“I love you,” Zero stops him mid-ramble. It’s getting easier now to say it. “I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t worth it. I was scared before and I still am but you’re worth all of it.”
He still has his eyes closed, can’t look at Jude as he speaks, and when Jude leans into him and presses his mouth to the back of his ear, whispers, “You’re worth everything too,” Zero sighs and squeezes Jude’s fingers. There are doubts, definitely - about what will come next, about how they’ll handle it all, about whether they’ll hurt each other - but Jude is steady and warm and strong at Zero’s back and he can’t understand how anyone could give this up, could throw Jude away so easily.
-
Never in his adult life has he left a note behind when leaving bed before the other person (or people) has woken up. His life suddenly feels like a storm of cliches.
Turn your phone back on. I’ll call you later, he scribbles out quickly on a sheet of the hotel notepad, thinks about writing something sappy like I love you but decides against it and instead just leaves it at that and lays the note on the bed beside Jude, still heavily asleep with his face pressed into the pillow and arm stretched out beside him.
I can have this every day, Zero thinks with a small smile, tentatively hopeful.
Once he’s out of the room and into the hallway he pulls his phone out and switches it back on, watching with a strange sense of calm as it buzzes rapidly and almost unendingly with dozens and dozens of missed calls and messages. He ignores them all and scrolls through his contacts to find one of the senior agents from his firm as he heads to the end of the hall to take a quick look out the window to the street below, groaning when his suspicions are confirmed. There’s a growing flock of reporters and photographers gathered around the hotel’s entrance, because of course the driver last night or the hotel’s front desk guy or someone else in the lobby noticed him and tipped the media off.
“Jim,” he says into the phone when the man picks up and keeps on speaking before he can be interrupted with a litany of panicked questions. “Get your guys together, I’m on my way to the office. As soon as I figure out how to get out of here…”
-
When he saunters into the conference room, everyone stands, like he’s the fucking President or something, which is just how he likes it. He wants to laugh, though, at the sea of anxious expressions around the room. And he gets it, why they’re all so nervous, but it eases the whole situation to realize that there’s a room full of middle-aged dudes in suits and ties sitting here freaking out because Zero kissed a guy.
So the smile he pastes on as he takes a glance around the room and says, “Gentlemen!” isn’t even all that fake.
He falters, though, when his eyes catch on Lucas sitting at one corner of the conference table, staring awkwardly at something over Zero’s shoulder. Zero’s eyes narrow for a brief moment, but he fights off the rush of anger and keeps his smile firmly in place as he takes the empty seat provided for him.
“Thanks for getting here so quickly,” he says, mostly out of habitual politeness. He doesn’t actually give much of a shit about any of them beyond how much money they can help him pull in.
Someone in the room gives an aborted chuckle; Zero doesn’t see who, but whoever it was, he likes that guy.
“Yes, yeah, of course, Zero,” Jim says, clearing his throat and folding his hands together on top of the table. In Zero’s experience, sports agents usually tend to act more laid back around the clients, try to act like they’re all buddies, just bros hanging out talking sports and finances or some shit (Jude was always more straightforward, more sarcastic, more biting with him than any of the others). Now, though, everyone is all business, serious and stone-faced.
Jim goes on, “This is - this is really big news. There’s going to be a lot to talk about, to figure out.”
Zero nods along vaguely and doesn’t tell them yet that there’s really not all that much to figure out; he’s not going on TV, he’s not giving any big coming out interviews, he’s not marching in any parades, and he’s not taking it all back or going to claim it was just some sort of mistake or misunderstanding or something. He just wants to be. He wants to hold onto whatever endorsements he can (Chik-fil-a is definitely out, but Trojan will probably double down on his contract), make sure his posters stay up around the arena and around the city (better to come out in a town like L.A. than in some of the other places he’s lived in his life), and keep playing.
“Right, right,” he replies, waving his hand dismissively through the air before turning to focus his attention on Lucas. “First thing’s first. Lucas, you should really leave the room.”
All eyes turn to stare at the man in question as Lucas finally looks directly at Zero, eyes wide, and blurts out, “Uh, what? Why?”
“Because you’re no longer my agent,” Zero tells him, keeping his voice calm and casual even as his eyes harden. “So it doesn’t really make much sense for you to stick around for this meeting, now does it?”
“But - ” Lucas starts before he’s interrupted by one of the others, a guy Zero’s met with a few times but can’t remember the name of.
“Zero,” the guy says, slow and patient like he’s a teacher speaking to a kid. “Is there some sort of problem between you and Lucas?”
And there’s the thing, that thing Zero loves about his life. The guy’s speaking slowly, cautiously, would sound almost threatening. Except that Zero’s the talent, the focus of the room and the most important one in it; the one actually under threat here is Lucas.
Zero turns to the guy who asked the question and lets his smile spread. “I no longer trust Lucas to be my agent. He’s shown some pretty crappy assessment ability and decision-making.” He turns his gaze back on Lucas, who looks pissed. “I don’t trust his judgement.”
The room is silent for a long, tense moment as Zero stares Lucas down and Lucas glares right back at him, until Jim clears his throat and calls for Lucas’s attention.
“Lucas, could you, um,” he says, nodding towards the door.
Lucas remains sitting for another moment, looking stunned, as the others in the room shift uncomfortably in their seats, before he finally gathers his phone and iPad and heads slowly out of the room. Zero doesn’t bother looking at him again.
“Awesome, okay,” Zero declares once the door shuts behind Lucas, clapping his hands together and forcing himself to keep projecting the upbeat attitude. “So, boys, how’re we gonna spin my image this time? Oh, and I’ll need a new agent. Get on that.”
-
A couple of hours later Zero heads out of the conference room, relatively satisfied with the media plan they’ve settled on and confident that calls reaffirming his deals with Nike, Hanes, and Trojan are already coming in. There’s a lot the agency wants of him - a statement, even if brief; a press conference; an interview with at least one outlet; a photo spread with him and Jude; a million other things that he’s not ready to deliver on. Everyone’s tentative, concerned about how this will affect his career on the court, but off the court there’s a shitload of publicity and money to be had in being one of the first gay or bi players to come out, at least in the short term.
For the moment, though, he just wants to go home - or to Jude’s home - and kick back for a while. He usually gets a high out of these kinds of meetings, being the center of attention and planning a big press hit, but this one was just draining and the day’s still not over; he’s still going to have to head to the arena later and meet with Lionel, Pete, whoever else, deal with more people panicking over image and statements to the press.
Looking down at his phone to scroll through his messages for anything important, he almost runs headlong into Lucas, pacing back and forth across the hallway outside of the conference room. The expression on Lucas’s face, still scowling and pissed off, makes Zero smirk.
“Problem?” Zero asks casually, eyebrows raised, not bothering to hide his smile.
“This’ll be your fourth agent in two years,” Lucas seethes quietly, pointing a finger bluntly at Zero’s chest. “It’s not a good look. You really wanna do that to yourself over some personal issue?”
Zero grins wider at that and shrugs his shoulders innocently.
“Personal issue? I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” He slaps Lucas lightly on the shoulder. “It’s all just business.”
Lucas’s eyes narrow. “That’s bullshit, you know it’s bullshit. You’re it, you’re his guy who did a number on him.”
Zero’s caught by surprise by that, which Lucas must notice, because he huffs out a small laugh and shakes his head lightly.
“He went on and on about some guy he was in love with,” Lucas continues, one hand on his hip now as the other rubs his forehead. “Deeply in love, couldn’t get over him, yada yada yada, wouldn’t shut up about it. Never in a million years would’ve guessed it was you.”
Suddenly Zero’s heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t quite catch up with the conversation enough to respond, too stuck still on deeply in love, couldn’t get over… He’d known it was true even before Jude said I love you too, but he hadn’t quite expected this. It’s stupid, it’s all so stupid, feeling like this. He hates himself a little for how pleased he is to hear that Jude couldn’t stop talking about him.
“So don’t give me that ‘it’s not personal’ horseshit,” Lucas grits out at him accusingly.
“You know something?” Zero says casually, turning his smile back on and stepping up close so he can speak right into Lucas’s face. “All that shit you said about him, needy and whatever? You’re wrong. You just never actually saw him.” He shrugs, gives Lucas a considering look. “At least not past the body he’s hiding underneath that suit which, I’ll give you - pretty fucking great. But if you thought that’s all there is to him…”
He shrugs again, gives an exaggerated frown that quickly shifts back to a grin. “Like I said. Poor judgement.”
Lucas can’t seem to find an answer for that, just stares at Zero thunderously, which makes Zero want to grin all the wider.
“It’s all good, though,” Zero goes on, slapping Lucas on the shoulder again. “Your loss, my gain.”
With that he heads off down the hall towards the elevators and goes back to his phone, finds a text from Jude buried among at least a dozen from Pete and guys on the team and reporters and other people he doesn’t care about talking to right now.
Where are you? You okay?
His smile then is for himself alone, for no one else’s benefit. He hits the button to call Jude back and steps onto an elevator with the phone to his ear, waiting to hear Jude’s voice and unable to stop this storm of emotions that he still can’t quite sort out. Leaving the office to step out into whatever comes next is terrifying and strange and alarming and freeing, and when Jude answers the phone and asks him, soothingly, if everything’s okay, Zero can honestly say, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”