Kiss me, Son of God

It was a shit game. That’s all there really is to say about it. The Outlaws were in a losing streak right now, and had been for about 5 games.

5 games ago, 5 games ago, fuck, it’s all my fault. is all Austin can think as he stares ahead at his teammates, his friends, all walking down the tunnel silently. They all looked downtrodden, tired, and just altogether sad. But he didn’t blame them. Not a single one. It’s me, it’s me, it’s all my fault, I shouldn’t- It shouldn’t have been so easy to get me into bed. Please Lord, forgive me for my sins-

His thoughts were cut short by a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, tin-man.” Is this Kerian? Must be, I recognize the voice. “You played well tonight. You’re doing good,” Kerian said gently, pressing his lips into something that seemed like an attempted smile, but seemed more like a grimace.

“Yeah.. thanks, Lang. You played good too. We’ll get ‘em next time, yeah?” Austin tried to sound at least a bit encouraging. “Yeah, we’ll get ‘em,” Kerian said as he pulled his hand away from Austin’s shoulder and hurried forward to another teammate, maybe Juho or Mikko. He couldn’t really tell, since they were both pretty similar in height and blonde. Maybe he couldn’t really tell because at some point, his vision had begun to blur and his chest felt tight and his nose burned with that familiar sting that came before he cried.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

—

It’d been about an hour before everyone but Austin had left the locker room. Well, he thought everyone else had left. Steve had spaced out in the showers, thinking about how he’d failed his team in every way possible. He’s the goalie, it’s literally his job to stop pucks. And he’d failed.

Steve took a deep breath, realizing he’d forgotten to actually breathe for at least a minute. Suddenly more aware of his surroundings, he noticed that the water had gone cold. Not comfortable. I should probably go home. How long have I been here? He thought silently, looking around and listening, hearing and seeing nobody else.

Quickly toweling off, Steve pulled on his briefs and whatever pants he’d brought with him. He didn’t want to be wet and cold anymore. Those are both the worst things ever. Despite living in Canada for most of his life, Steve did not like the cold. Hated it, actually. He didn’t even make an attempt at drying his hair, except for maybe scrunching it with his towel.

Damn you, curly hair.

He sighed, walking out into the actual locker room part. And finding Austin. Kneeling in front of his stall silently, his hands clasped together tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

Steve stayed silent, not wanting to disturb whatever ritual was happening here.

Well.. he was silent for about two seconds. And then he stepped on someone’s water bottle that was left on the floor (who the fuck leaves a water bottle on the floor??) and falling flat on his face. Like a fucking idiot. Austin looked towards where the sound of someone hitting the ground came from, scrambling back a bit in shock. “Shit- hey! I-I thought uh… everyone went home,” he said quickly, very obviously avoiding actually looking at Steve. “Uhm, yes, yeah, me too,” Steve nodded, sitting up from where he’d fallen down like an idiot.

They both stared at each other for what could’ve been a whole five minutes—mainly out of shock and confusion—but neither broke the silence.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing away from Austin for a moment before looking back at him again. “So uh… what- what were you doing there?” He asked quietly, half hoping that Austin wouldn’t even hear it. “Praying..” Austin replied with the same amount of hope that the other wouldn’t hear. “About..?” Steve asked cautiously, making sure Austin knew he didn’t have to answer. Austin gave him a look, one that just screamed ”You know what.” A silence fell again—heavier.

Steve broke it again—he’s not a fan of silence—trying to lighten the mood just a bit. “Well shit, I don’t think I was bad enough to talk to god about it-“ Austin cut him off, “No! No no no, shit, uh, no. It’s not.. that.”

“Well, actually, yeah, about that, but not like… complaining. Apologizing, mostly. Asking for forgiveness.” A pause. “You should too. It’s.. it’s good for the soul.”

Steve blinked a few times, trying to figure out if he really just heard what he thought he heard. He never got the whole “praying” thing. He didn’t even believe in a god in the first place, nonetheless one that didn’t accept him as he was. That seemed… wrong. Is Austin talking about the same god that he’d heard about? Like, the all merciful and loving god? Having to pray for forgiveness doesn’t seem like something you would do for a “loving” and “merciful” god.

While Steve was thinking this, he must’ve been making some sort of face, because Austin started blushing—embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it in that way, Steve. I think you’re just right. But everyone needs some soul-savin’ every once in a while, even if you don’t believe in it.”

Steve hummed quietly in response, scooting a bit closer. “Well.. I might not believe in a god or prayer—but I certainly do believe in souls. And I know mine is pretty clean, so I will not be uh.. joining in your soul saving today.” Steve thought for a moment, trying to find a way to segue this into “why the actual hell are you praying, you’re literally the most bestest dude I’ve known ever.”

“I don’t uh.. I do not think you need to be praying either. You’re a good man, Austin.”

“No, no I’m not.”

“Do you have a reason to think that?”

“I like.. boys.”

“Ah.”

Austin looked over at Steve, sighing. “The hell does that mean? You can’t say shit, you’re the one who did it!” Steve tried and failed to hold back a stupid laugh that definitely shouldn’t have happened. “I did it? Being of your own orientation, since you won’t label yourself as anything but straight-“ “I am straight!” “Yes, yes, that is what you say. But that is since birth! I did not choose for you to like.. boys. That was all you.”

Austin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Hush, you. I only stumbled upon these profound feelings because you’re pretty.” He looked away, not wanting to see the expression Steve was definitely going to make. The one that he only uses when someone says something so unbelievably stupid. “You’ve never said that I’m… pretty before. I have never gotten that. I’ve gotten gorgeous, handsome, got told I look like Benson Boone—but pretty? Never.”

Steve paused, thinking.

“Which means you have been thinking about me. And new adjectives to describe yours truly.” Steve looked over at Austin, who was looking gradually more uncomfortable. He didn’t want to make his friend—above all else—uncomfortable. “Hey.. I did not eh… I did not mean it like that. Well- I did. But not purposely to make you feel bad. We don’t.. have to talk about this. Now, or ever.”

“No, no, no, I want to. It’s just.. hard,” Austin replied quietly, shifting to lean back against the stalls behind him, letting his head fall into his hands. “It’s just… it’s a lot. You’re important to me, as a friend and as… other things, but I have my own shit to work through, and I’m not sure…I’m not sure I can. I’m terrified of being anything but straight, and I just can’t.”

It was quiet for a while, both men sitting with their thoughts, trying to figure out how to continue this conversation. Abandoning it seemed much worse than anything they could possibly talk about.

Eventually, Steve sighed, standing and walking over to Austin before sitting down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close against his side. Austin pulled his knees up to his chest, leaning into Steve comfortably. He needed this. “I’m here, you know. As a friend, before everything. Love you, bud,” Steve said gently. Austin just nodded, leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder and trying to quiet his brain.