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✦✦✦ Eric
Eric stared out the window of the plane and willed it to move faster. This year’s NHL Awards had been a new level of excruciating —stand, sit, shake hands, watch Hollander win MVP for the third year in a row, blah blah blah. The In Memoriam portion had been particularly hard—there were at least two guys up there that Eric remembered watching as a kid. Someday his name would be up there. Would there be anyone left to remember him by then? God this was depressing.
As if summoned by the smell of Eric’s dark thoughts, Scott dropped heavily into the seat next to him. Eric quickly closed his phone and shoved it into the seat pocket in front of him.
“Not-texting Kyle again?” Scott asked.
Eric glared. “He doesn’t want to hear from me.”
“Yea, that’s what you said before. Remind me, what exactly did he say?”
“That he was tired of being jerked around, and he didn’t want to see me ever again. I don’t remember the exact words.”
“Mm hmm.” Scott said skeptically.
Truth was, Eric did remember the exact words Kyle had said to him when he’d turned up at the Kingfisher after his final game. They were seared into his mind, he couldn’t forget them if he tried.
Thank you for the apology, Eric. But you’ve burned me too many times. You can’t seem to decide if you’re in or out, so I’m deciding. You’re out, and I’m not letting you back in.
He’d come crawling back to Kyle, and been rejected. He’d seen the light, realized what he truly wanted, and it was too late. The best romantic relationship he’d ever been in, and he’d thrown it away because he was scared. Of what? ‘Stealing’ Kyle’s youth? If Kyle chose to spend his youth with Eric, the only thing he should feel is honored, and Kyle had made his feelings on Eric’s attitude perfectly clear.
Fuck my youth! And fuck you for thinking I can’t make my own decisions.
Ignoring Scott, Eric turned back to the window. The Admirals were unique in the NHL for having their own private plane. Most teams chartered a flight with one of the airlines, but Samuel Gardiner (the team’s owner) was too fancy for that. His team flew in a custom Boeing 767, with red leather seats and the team logo painted in enormous letters on the outside. Three Stanley Cups were painted on the tail, one for each of their wins. Eric had been there for the last one, on the day Scott had ‘introduced’ Kip to the team.
“What are you planning to do this summer?”
Mope. “Travel, probably. I might try to get back into photography. Try and visit every national park or something.”
“Alone?”
Eric sighed. Scott really wasn’t gonna let this go, was he? “Yes, Scott, alone. Unless you want to ditch your honeymoon and come with?”
Scott opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the plane hit a large bump. Several people yelped, a few overhead compartments popped open, and Eric’s drink was jolted off the tray in front of him to splash down in his lap.
“Shit!” he cried, while Scott laughed. Carter Vaughn, seated across the aisle from them, took pity on Eric and reached over Scott to hand him a napkin before standing up to get to his suitcase.
“Sorry Benny,” Carter chuckled, fishing around in his bag, “Here, I’ve got a towel you can—”
BANG
The plane tipped sharply to the right, then fell.
Carter was lifted off his feet, slamming his head into the open door of the overhead compartment. He crashed back down and crumpled in the aisle. Eric heard Scott yell his name before he was drowned out by screaming.
✦✦✦ Kyle
“Go fish,” said Kip.
Kyle swore and drew another card. The Kingfisher was slow in the afternoons, and he and Kip were alone in the bar, playing Go Fish with a ratty deck of cards that was probably older than either of them. Over Kyle’s shoulder, the TV was playing some sort of straight dating game show that seemed messy and very dramatic.
“Got any sevens?”
Kip handed it over. “Did we get last night’s delivery processed alright? Tens?”
Kyle slid him the ten and nodded. “Yep. Beer and Vodka and Wine, oh my! Barring a dramatic uptick in business, we should be good for a long while. Twos?”
“Go fish.”
“Shit.”
✦✦✦ Eric
The free-fall seemed to last forever. Eric screamed, bracing his hands on the seat in front of him. Crashing. They were fucking crashing. He was going to die.
I’ll never see Kyle again. Will he care? Will he mourn? Who will tell him what happened?
Kip, probably. Oh God, Scott was going to die too. At least Kip and Kyle would have each other.
I never told my family about him. I never told anyone about him. No one will know to invite him to my funeral. No one will know what he meant to me.
Finally there was an awful swooping motion that pressed Eric down hard into his seat, and the plane leveled off. Scott was out of his seat immediately, reaching for where Carter lay sprawled in the aisle. He was conscious, Eric could see, and gripping the base of a nearby seat as an anchor. Scott looped an arm under his linemate’s chest and hauled him up. His eyes were open, but he looked dazed. Scott shoved him down into his seat and began searching for Carter’s seatbelt just as the Pilot started speaking.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve lost our right engine, but have regained control over the aircraft. We have been cleared for an emergency landing at Newark and will be entering a controlled descent momentarily. Please fasten your seatbelts and obey all instructions from your flight attendant.”
Okay. Okay, so hope wasn’t entirely lost. Planes could land without an engine. Eric had been in Manhattan for the Miracle on the Hudson, and that plane had had no engines.
Across the aisle, Carter shoved Scott’s hands away. “I’ve got it, Hunter, go sit down!” Scott glanced at him, eyes wild, and nodded before lurching across to his own seat and drawing the belt across his lap. Eric had kept his seatbelt on the entire flight. He tugged on it now to be sure. Outside, the Jersey coastline was visible beneath the clouds. Tiny houses and businesses looking perfectly peaceful, unaware of the crisis taking place hundreds of feet above them.
✦✦✦ Scott
Carter was bleeding. Scott could see it staining the collar of his hoodie. To his right, Eric had his arms braced straight out in front of him, fingers digging into the dark red leather of the seat. “The engine’s on fire!” Clay Wagner shouted a few rows ahead. “It’s here, I can see it—the plane is on fire!!” He and a few others from the wing section scrambled to get away, even as the flight attendants called for them to remain seated. Scott screwed his eyes shut, pulse roaring in his ears.
Kip. Kip. Kip. Kip. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t enough. I love you. I’ll always love you.
Thank God they’d arranged things already rather than waiting till after the wedding. The apartment and cars were in both their names, as were the bank accounts. Kip would be taken care of. They were each other’s health care proxies too, in case Scott got hurt on the ice. The one thing they hadn’t talked about was . . . this. Death. Scott knew from experience how hard it was to make funerary decisions in the wake of a loss.
What was the last thing he’d said to him? They’d been texting that morning, and had video called the night before. Scott had fallen asleep before they hung up. Had he told Kip he loved him before passing out? He didn’t know.
Could he call him now? The Admiral’s plane was fancy, they had onboard wifi. Scott reached for his pocket and yanked out his phone. He dialed Kip, held it to his ear and waited.
ring ring
The plane jolted again, Eric said “Fuck!” under his breath, still clutching the back of the seat.
ring ring
On his other side, Carter had his head down, hands folded over the back of his neck. It sounded like maybe he was praying.
ring ring
Pick up, pick up, PLEASE pick up.
“Hey, this is Kip, leave a message so I know you’re a real person!”
✦✦✦ Kyle
“I just don’t know how much Conan Gray is too much Conan Gray, you know? Like, I love his stuff, but most of it is way too angsty for a reception.”
Kyle closed his eyes and tried to remind himself how much he loved his friend. Even if they were rapidly approaching “I am going to strangle you” levels of “can we shut up about your goddamn wedding for two seconds please.”
Kyle really, really didn’t want to think about Scott and Kip’s wedding next month. No one who was recently single (was three months still recent?) wanted to discuss wedding plans in this much detail, even when that someone didn’t have to share groomsmen duties with the ex who broke their heart.
Harder to think about was the nasty voice whispering that Kyle had broken his own heart, that he could have had Eric back if he hadn’t been so fucking stubborn. Now in just over a month, Kyle would stand beside Kip and have to look across the aisle at Eric’s gross, stupid, sexy face while the two sappiest saps on the planet confessed their love for each other.
“And Scott’s favorite band is The freaking Beatles, like that isn’t the most basic choice of all time—“
Kyle nodded and tuned him out as he took another bottle off the shelf behind the bar and handed it to Kip for dusting. There were a few customers in now, but not enough that they weren’t still bored to tears standing behind the counter, reduced to cleaning the old, decorative bottles Gus kept there.
CRASH
Kyle whipped around to see the smashed remains of a bottle at Kip’s feet. “Shit—don’t move, I’ll get the broom.” But Kip seemed frozen in place. He had gone pale, staring behind Kyle with wide, terrified eyes. Over his shoulder, Kyle became aware that the game show had been interrupted by some sort of news bulletin.
“—ivate plane belonging to Samuel Gardiner, owner of the New York Admirals, was coming from the NHL Awards in Tampa, and is believed to have been carrying the entire roster and staff for the beloved team. Sources report several ambulances have departed the scene, but no word on the status or identity of their occupants.”
On the screen, a plane was burning. Fire had engulfed the right wing and was licking out the shattered windows of the fuselage. Rubber evacuation slides smoldered, sending thick black smoke over the entire scene.
The body of the plane was red, with three Stanley Cups painted on its tail. Unmistakable.
The Admiral’s plane.
✦✦✦ Eric
Scott was leaving a message for Kip. Eric thought about trying to call Kyle before remembering Kyle had blocked his number. The ground outside was very close now. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to clear his mind. The body of the plane shook with a mechanical sounding rumble. Was that the landing gear? Please. He didn’t dare look out the window again.
The wheels touching down sent a jolt through the whole plane. For a moment they were racing along the ground and then—WHAM. Eric’s face hit the seat in front of him even as the plane tipped dramatically to the right. Only his seatbelt kept him from flying into the ceiling like Carter. For a moment, everything was chaos. Then—
Someone was yelling. Pain was slowly building in his face, but when he touched it his hand came away clean.
Now someone was tugging on his arm, trying to get him to stand up. Eric tried to obey but found he couldn’t. Was he hurt? Why couldn’t he—a hand reached across him and unclicked his seatbelt, then hauled him upright. Oh. Well that made sense. It smelled very bad in here. Eric stumbled over the empty seat next to him, then was shoved down the aisle towards the back of the plane, where he could hear more people yelling. It was hard to walk, the plane was tipped at such an extreme angle. They almost had to climb to reach the exit. The air was thick and dark. It was getting hard to breathe.
Then they were outside. It was raining heavily, which felt incredible on his skin. It had been so hot in that plane.
The man holding his arm—Carter—shook him, then pointed down at the inflatable slide stretched out at their feet. Before Eric could do anything, Carter yanked him down out of the plane, and they slid with a whoosh down to the runway. Several men in neon vests quickly pulled them to their feet and pointed to a collection of ambulances parked a few hundred yards away. They shouted something Eric couldn’t hear, but he got the gist. All around them, men and women were heading in that direction.
When Eric and Carter reached the paramedics, they were both given quick once-over exams and a slap bracelet. Eric’s was green, Carter’s was yellow. They were directed further down the runway and asked to wait. As they walked away from the ambulances, Eric got his first real view of the crash site.
Their plane was an inferno. The right wing was buried in the ground, dragging the whole plane to a stop. The wheels had hit the ground unevenly, causing the plane to tip too far and catch the already burning wing on the ground. Fire trucks were pouring water on the blaze from all directions. That must have been the rain he’d felt, because none was falling now.
Carter was looking around frantically. “Scott?!” he cried. “Scott, where are you?”
Eric felt a chill. Scott had been seated between him and the aisle. He'd climbed over the empty seat to get off the plane. Where could Scott have gone? He’d been right there!
“SCOTT HUNTER!” Carter yelled again, sounding panicked.
“Where—he was right—?” Eric’s thoughts were a mess. Scott.
“He went toward the front of the plane.” Carter gasped, still scanning the crowd. “He was getting the rookies.”
Eric felt sick. They had been seated behind the stricken engine. If Scott had gone forward, that meant he had gone towards the source of the fire.
“Vaughn!”
Scott was staggering toward them, Gillis’ arm around his shoulder. He was practically carrying the younger player, who was bleeding heavily from a cut on his leg. Scott himself looked winded but unharmed.
The paramedics reached the pair before Eric and Carter could. Two men grabbed Gillis and ran with him back toward the ambulance while a third man shone a flashlight in Scott’s eyes. Carter pushed past him and caught Scott in an embrace. They gripped each other tightly for a moment, then Scott pulled back enough to reach one arm out to grasp Eric’s shoulder. For a second the men just grinned at each other, delighted by their own survival. Then Carter burst out—
“Gloria’s pregnant!”
Eric blinked, his brain struggling to switch gears. “No way!” he finally cried. “That’s awesome man, congratulations!” Scott was still breathing too hard to speak, but he was beaming.
“She’s only like two months along. We weren’t going to tell anyone yet but I was so excited to tell you guys and then I almost didn’t get to, so fuck it!” Carter was talking quickly now, caught up in his good news. “We’re having a kid! I’m gonna be a Dad!”
Scott was still smiling, but his breathing seemed to be speeding up rather than slowing down. Eric reached out to steady him.
“We’ve actually been trying for a while, but Gloria—“
“ . . . Scott?” Eric asked. The man’s eyes had gone vacant, and he swayed slightly where he stood.
“—want to make a big deal of it until we knew for sure—“
“Scott!” Eric tried to catch him but Scott was too tall. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the runway.
✦✦✦ Kyle
Eric, Eric, Eric.
The Kingfisher closed in record time that night. It wasn’t even dark outside, but Kip and Kyle didn’t care. They locked the till without counting it, flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED, and ejected their few patrons as quickly and politely as possible before racing outside to hail a taxi.
The first cabbie they found refused to take them all the way to Jersey. They argued back and forth before deciding to go back to Kip’s building and get the car.
Eric, Eric, Eric.
“It’s low on gas, so we’ll have to fill up before we can go.” Kip said, bouncing his knee anxiously as they turned onto his street.
“I can do that,” Kyle volunteered. “You should go upstairs and get like—Scott’s toothbrush or something. Maybe a change of clothes. Just in case—“ he cut himself off. Just in case we’re in for a hospital stay. He thought.
Kip nodded. “Okay. Yea. I’ll go throw some stuff in a bag, you fill the tank and pick me up out front in 20?”
Eric, Eric, Eric.
It had been a while since Kyle had driven a car, but Scott’s Honda CRV handled well, and he made it to the gas station without incident. He swiped his card and started the pump, then went inside to buy monsters and protein bars. Just in case.
Kyle’s hands were shaking when he made it back to the car. The pulsing mantra of Eric, Eric, Eric that had been thundering in his ears for the last hour was reaching a fever pitch. He unhooked the gas pump and got back behind the wheel. He put the key in the ignition and found he couldn’t grip the key hard enough to turn it. Fuck!
He needed to calm down. Having a panic attack in a gas station parking lot would not help anyone. Kyle pressed his hands to the steering wheel and closed his eyes, thinking. What could he do right now? He yanked out his phone and searched ‘Eric Bennet Plane Crash’ but there was nothing. Only the same terrible photos of the burning plane, and small figures clustered together down the runway. He zoomed in on the tiny people, as if he expected to be able to tell which pixels were Eric based on .. what, vibes? Ugh.
Kyle switched over to contacts and unblocked Eric’s number. He waited exactly ten seconds to see if anything came through, and when nothing did, he hit call. The phone rang three times, then went to voicemail. Hey, you’ve reached Eric Bennet, leave a message.
Hearing his voice again after so long was like a punch to the gut. He immediately wanted to call back and hear it again, but that would be pathetic. Only . . . he probably should actually leave a message. He called again. This time the voice was less of a shock, but when the phone beeped, Kyle realized he had no idea what he wanted to say. ‘Hey, sorry I told you to fuck off, please don’t be dead’? He hung up after a few seconds of silence and started the car.
When he pulled up in front of the building, he was surprised to see Kip sitting on the sidewalk out front, slumped against the brick wall with a tote bag beside him. He was clutching his phone in both hands but not looking at it. Kyle beeped the horn to get his attention.
Kip’s eyes snapped open and he hurried to the car. He looked haunted and Kyle felt a chill. “Did you—“
“I heard from Scott.”
“Oh?” That should have been a good thing, but the way Kip said it did not sound like good news. “What did he say?”
“He um,” Kip took a shaky breath and looked back down at his phone. “He left me a voicemail. About an hour ago. It’s—well, just listen.” He hit play.
“Hey Kip,” came Scott Hunter’s shaky voice out of the phone. Kyle could hear yelling and clattering in the background. His heart clenched. “I just wanted to say that I love you. So much. And—“ there was a pause, then Scott plunged ahead.
“Before I met you, I was living in the dark. I could see well enough to get around, to get by, but not much else. My eyes had adjusted, I was used to it. I thought that was just the way it was, that love simply wasn’t in the cards for me. Then you came along and threw open the curtains, and—everything changed. I can never go back to the way I was before. You have changed every aspect of my life for the better. My highest highs, my lowest lows, and all the boring days in between are worth doing if I get to do them with you.
I’m sorry—I’m sorry we didn’t get more time. I could live a thousand years with you and it wouldn’t be enough time. Try—“ Scott’s voice broke, “Try not to be sad for too long, okay? You deserve to be happy, I want you to be happy. I love you, Kip. Every second of my life.” The message ended in a harsh click and Kyle was very glad he had not pulled away from the curb yet. His hands were shaking worse than ever.
Eric, Eric, Eric.
Kip sobbed once and Kyle’s mom-friend instinct kicked in. He sucked in a breath, gathering himself. “Has the news said anything yet?” He asked, putting on the turn signal to merge into traffic.
“No—nothing definitive.” Kip said, sitting up straight and wiping his eyes. “And I’m his emergency contact, so they would call me first if . . . “
“Let’s not worry about ifs now,” Kyle said firmly, trying very hard to follow his own advice. “We’ll worry about the facts when we get there in—” he glanced at his phone “—forty one minutes.”
✦✦✦ Kip
They were almost to the airport when Kip’s phone rang. An unknown number. Oh god. He answered it immediately, heart in his throat.
“Hello?”
“Is this Christopher Grady?”
“This is him.” Kyle swatted his arm, and Kip glared at him. “What?” He mouthed.
“Speakerphone!” Oh. Shit, yea. He hit the button.
“Hi Mr. Grady, my name is Sierra and I’m a nurse at Trinitas Regional Medical Center. I’m calling to notify you that your partner Scott Travis Hunter was brought into our emergency department this afternoon suffering from a concussion, hypoxia due to smoke inhalation, and shock. We’ve intubated him and given medication to help absorb oxygen into his bloodstream. Do you understand everything I’ve told you so far?”
Hypoxia. Intubated. Kip could hardly feel his body. “I do. Is he—?”
He watched Kyle clench his hands tightly on the wheel, then lean over to switch their GPS destination to Trinitas.
“Mr. Hunter is responding well to treatment and should be able to come off the ventilator sometime tonight. If his stats are holding steady by morning he will be able to go home. Are you able to come in and collect him when he’s ready to be discharged?”
Responding. Steady. “Yes, I–I’m almost there now.”
“Good,” Sierra said, “his care team can give you more information when you arrive.”
“Okay. Thank you, I—”
“Is anyone else—” Kyle interrupted, “I mean, anyone else from the team, are they—” he swallowed and seemed to force himself to spit it out. “Is Eric Bennet there too? Do you know if he’s okay?”
Now that was interesting.
Kip hadn’t realized that Eric would have been on the plane too. He’d been so caught up in his own worry for Scott that he hadn’t even noticed Kyle spiraling. Kip stared at him, but Kyle would not meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry sir, I’m not at liberty to confirm or deny the presence of any other patients. Hippa, you know.” The nurse sounded sympathetic. Kyle sucked in a breath before replying.
“That’s okay, I figured, I just—I needed—nevermind.”
The nurse gave them directions on where to park and how to find Scott’s room once they were inside. “Alright Mr. Grady, I’ll tell our front desk to expect you, is there anything else I can do for you today?”
“No ma’am, you’ve been great, thank you for all your help.” Kip hung up and touched a hand to Kyle’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t even realize—but I’m sure Eric is okay.”
Kyle nodded, still focused on the road. “He was getting a lifetime achievement award. I saw it in a magazine.” Kip rubbed his shoulder gently and didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure exactly the words for what Eric and Kyle had been to each other. Whatever their feelings, the emotions had run deep, and apparently still did, break up or no break up.
“Sounds like Scott’s going to be okay, though” Kyle said in an obvious effort to shift the conversation away from himself.
“Yeah. He’s okay.” Kip sagged, feeling boneless with relief as they pulled into the hospital parking garage. Kyle looked for a spot as Kip began to feel a massive pressure in his chest, crowding up his throat, strangling him. His breathing hitched. Kip leaned forward and put his head on the dashboard.
“He’s going to be okay.” Kyle said, and Kip felt him slowly smoothing his hand over his hunched shoulders. “He’s alright, Kip.” Kip was crying in earnest now, breath coming in huge gasps before huffing out in little sobs. Now that he knew Scott was alive, that he was going to be okay, there was nothing to keep him focused, and the terror of the last few hours came pouring out of him in shuddering gasps.
Slowly he became aware of a voice, speaking low and calm. “In for one, two, three, four,” Kyle counted, “out for five, six, seven, eight. In for one . . . ”
After two more rounds, Kip opened his eyes and nodded firmly. “I’m good,” he said. “Let’s go.” They would find Scott, and then Kip would help Kyle track down his . . . Eric.
✦✦✦ Kyle
Scott’s room was easy to find. A man at the front desk checked Kip’s ID, then pointed them upstairs and to the left, room 214. Kyle followed Kip through the doorway, past a small bathroom and into the room.
Scott Hunter lay in the large bed, face pale and eyes closed. There was a monitor on his finger and several wires going down under his collar. A blue mask lay over the lower half of his face, holding a clear plastic tube that disappeared down his throat. Kip made a small noise and rushed to the bed, taking Scott’s free hand in his and leaning forward to kiss his hair. “Oh baby,” he said, barely audible. “I’m here.”
Kyle stood back by the end of the bed, wondering if he should give them some privacy. He decided to make himself useful and dragged a chair over to where Kip was standing.
“I’ll um. Go see if I can find his doctor, or someone who knows something.” Kyle said awkwardly. Kip turned to look at him, eyes wet.
“Thank you, Kyle. For everything you’ve done today.”
“No problem.”
“I mean it.” Kip said, now holding Scott’s hand with both of his. “I know today hasn’t been easy for you, and you still got me gas and drove me here and kept me calm when I—“ he broke off with a gasp, looking down at Scott’s hand, then up to his face.
Scott’s eyes were open, and he was looking at Kip with an unreadable expression. Sleepy, confused, adoring—it was hard to tell with half his face covered. But his hand was squeezing Kip’s hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
“I’m on it,” Kyle said, heading back to the hallway. A monitor must have already alerted the doctors, because there were two people heading his way. “He’s waking up,” Kyle called, feeling urgent but not wanting to tell the doctors how to do their job.
Back in the room, Kip was leaning over Scott, stroking his hair and talking in a soothing voice. Scott’s eyes were wide and a little panicked. His breathing had sped up and there was sweat beading on his forehead.
“Hello Mr. Hunter, glad to have you back with us,” said the doctor, a middle aged woman with short dark hair. “We’re gonna take that tube out now, okay?” Kip reluctantly stepped back so the other doctor, a much younger woman, could get in and unhook the ventilator. She pulled the mask off Scott’s face.
“One big breath for me, then blow out on three. One, two, three!” She pulled on the tube as Scott coughed, gagged and retched until the thing was out. Kip was back as soon as she stepped away, cradling Scott’s face and leaning in to kiss him.
“Whoa, hey, I know you love him, but maybe let him breathe, Kip!” Kyle said, grabbing his friend’s shoulder and gently pulling him back from Scott’s face.
“Sorry,” Kip said, voice thick with emotion. There were tears streaming down his face as he beamed at his partner.
“I’m not,” said Scott, his voice weak and gravelly, a far cry from his usual commanding baritone. “Get back here.”
Kip laughed and went gladly, kissing him gently one more time.
“Your vitals all look good Mr. Hunter, we’ll give you guys some privacy. Just push the call button if you start to feel short of breath, or if you need anything, okay?”
Scott made a noise that might have been a “mkay” and the doctors left. Kyle cleared his throat to remind both men that he was there before they could start making out again. “Um, Scott, do you know, uh, I wanted to—that is, I’m worried about .. about Eric. I asked the nurse if he was okay but she couldn’t tell me anything because I’m not family.”
Scott’s brow furrowed. “He’s . . . okay, I think. I told Vaughn to help him while I went to make sure the rookies were okay. I think I remember seeing him outside the plane, after, but I wasn’t feeling too good then . . .” he trailed off, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. I take it he’s not answering his phone?” Kyle shook his head. “Damn. I would offer to lend you mine, but I have no idea where it is. Unless . . .?” he looked at Kip, who shook his head. “Damn. I’m sure there’s a team group chat or something if you can find a player who still has their phone. Has the news said anything?”
Kyle shook his head. “No, they’re being super tight-lipped. New York City and plane crashes, yknow?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay. Okay. I’ll just uh, use your bathroom, then I’ll go to the lobby and see what I can find out.”
✦✦✦ Scott
Ten minutes after Kyle had left on his fact-finding mission, Scott and Kip lay close together in Scott’s hospital bed. It was definitely not big enough for two grown men, but Scott didn’t mind at all. He was safe on solid ground, taking full, deep breaths, and was pressed tight against his gorgeous fiancé.
“Your voicemail was beautiful.” Kip murmured, rubbing their foreheads together.
“You got it then? I wasn’t sure if it went through.”
“I got it. It was . . . hard. to hear you like that, but I’m glad I did.”
Scott hummed, tipping his chin up to kiss him. “There is one problem though.”
“What’s that?” Kip asked.
“I need to write new vows. We’re a month out from our wedding and I have to start all over.”
Kip pulled back to look at him. “Those were–?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“I worked hard on that speech. And in the moment . . . I didn’t think I’d get another chance to tell you. I wasn’t going to let my hard work go to waste.”
Kip smiled, his eyes wet. “Too bad,” he said softly, “those would have been really good. Would have gotten you laid for sure.”
“Damn. I’ll never manage to top them.”
“I believe in you.”
Scott stared up at him, feeling like his heart was going to explode. At least they were already in a hospital if it did. “On the plane,” his voice cracked and he had to start over. “On the plane, a lot of people were praying. To a lot of different gods. And I’ve never been religious, but in that moment, we all needed something to believe in, and for me, that was you. That is you. You’re the only thing I believe in, Kip Grady, and I can’t wait to be with you forever.”
Kip was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Then he began to laugh, pressing his face into Scott’s hair.
“You better shut up, Hunter,” he said, still laughing, “Don’t use all your vow material in one afternoon.”
“Fuck!”
✦✦✦ Eric
This day was never going to fucking end. Eric’s second wind had come and gone, and he had reached some sort of liminal point beyond exhaustion. The afternoon had been both incredibly boring and incredibly tense. After the ambulance had gone screaming away with Scott and Gillis, Eric and Carter had ended up sitting under a plastic tent, waiting to be driven to the hospital by airport security. At least that’s who he assumed the people in the dark orange jumpsuits were.
When they finally reached the hospital, they’d been split up and sent to different rooms based on the color of their slap on triage tags. Eric had eventually been cleared, but Carter’s concussion was severe enough that they wanted to keep him overnight, so Eric had been sent out in search of food, information, and Scott Hunter.
The first one was easy. He’d found the cafeteria on the first try, and had come back with dinner for both of them, even if the options available had been shockingly unhealthy for a building full of doctors.
Information was a little trickier. He’d found Coach Murdock in the front lobby as the sun was going down, looking exhausted in his soot stained dress shirt. From him, Eric finally got the specific answers he wanted. 56 people had been on the Admiral’s plane today, with 37 of them transported to various hospitals. Of those, 14 were being kept overnight, and only two (Rogers and Gillis) had what the doctors classified as ‘serious injuries’. McConnell and Walter had broken arms, and at least seven people had concussions. But overall, the New York Admirals had come through this remarkably intact. There would be an official press release in the morning. One of the assistant coaches had a copy of everyone’s emergency paperwork, and had let Eric borrow his phone to call his parents and sister to let them know he was alright. He wanted to call Kyle, but of course his number was nowhere in the official file. And what would he even say if he did? Good news, remember how you told me to stay away from you forever? I’m still alive to continue doing that!
Now he was headed up to room 214, where he had been told he could find Scott. The door was closed when he got there, so he knocked before easing it open and stepping inside.
Kip was reclined on the top of the bed, head lolling to the side, arms around the man in front of him. Scott looked pale and tired, deep shadows under both his eyes, and a cannula in his nose. His head was resting on Kip’s chest, their fingers hooked together. Eric smiled, wishing he could take a picture.
There was a soft click as the door opened behind him. Eric turned to look, but before he could see who it was, the figure was flying at him, slamming into him with enough force to knock even Eric’s solid goalie physique back a step. His arms came up automatically around the man’s waist as the newcomer clung to him.
“Kyle?” he asked, shocked.
Kyle didn’t move, keeping his arms tight around Eric’s neck. “You’re okay,” he gasped, “Oh my god you’re okay. Thank fuck, I was so worried. Eric.”
Shit, Kyle was shaking. Eric smoothed his hands over the younger man’s back and tried to keep his heart from soaring. ‘Wow I’m glad you didn’t die’ did not mean—
“Oh good, you found him,” said a voice from his right. Eric glanced over and found Kip awake and smiling at them. The sound of his friend’s voice seemed to bring Kyle back to himself. He quickly let go of Eric and stepped back, blushing.
“Is that Benny?” said Scott blearily. Eric grinned and stepped over to take his hand, and Scott surprised him by yanking him down into a tight hug.
“Someone’s feeling better,” Eric chuckled when Scott finally released him.
“You are okay, right? And Carter? Gillis? What about—”
“Everyone is or will be okay,” Eric said seriously. “Rogers from PT got the worst of it, broken ribs and a collapsed lung. But he’s expected to make a full recovery. He’s awake and they’re taking the chest tube out tomorrow.”
Scott visibly relaxed. “Good. And Gillis? He was bleeding so much . . . “
“Managed to nick his femoral artery. From what I understand they had to give him an insane amount of blood transfusions, but he pulled through.”
“We should sponsor a blood drive,” Scott murmured, eyes drifting shut. “Free tickets if you donate or something . . . “
“That’s a great idea babe,” Kip said, stroking Scott’s hair, “—for tomorrow. Right now you need to rest.” He kissed the top of his head and Scott sighed happily. Oh god, these two were going to get even sappier now, weren’t they?
“Alright, well I should get going,” said Eric awkwardly. “I promised to send Carter proof of life when I found you. Do you have your phone so we can send him a picture?”
Scott winced. “No, I think it died a fiery death on the plane. I must have dropped it when we hit the ground.”
“Damn,” Eric said, “I left mine in the seat pocket, so it's for sure gone.”
“I can send one,” Kip said. “I’ll put it in the WAG chat, Gloria will make sure he sees it.”
Eric laughed. “You’re in the WAG chat?”
Kip scoffed. “Of course! Kyle, do you mind?”
Kyle had been standing awkwardly by the end of Scott’s bed throughout this interaction. He took Kip’s phone from him, then raised it to snap a couple pictures of the three of them.
For the first time in over a month, Eric looked Kyle full in the face. He looked the same as he had that last night in the Kingfisher, when he had sent Eric away. The same slim figure, gold hair, and winter-blue eyes. So beautiful. Eric forced that thought down and made himself smile for the picture.
“There, those should be good,” said Kyle, handing the phone back to Kip.
“Thanks man. I’ll post it to your instagram too Scott, if that’s okay? Let the people know their hero is alright.”
Silence. Scott appeared to have fallen asleep. Eric smiled fondly at his captain for a minute, then straightened. “It’s late, I should go. I can come back tomorrow, if you want.”
“Maybe, if Scott isn’t discharged. I’ll email you.” Kip flicked a glance between Eric and Kyle, then said, “You should go too, Kyle. You’ve been a huge help today, go get some rest.”
✦✦✦ Kyle
“How are you getting home?” Kyle asked. “We came in Scott’s car, so I could drive you. Home, I mean.” They were standing on the curb outside the hospital’s front entrance after saying goodbye to Kip and the sleeping Scott.
Eric looked at him, thoughtful and calculating. “Yea okay,” he finally said. “I don’t have my phone to call a car anyway.”
Kyle was scared. Part of him wished he could just wait for Eric to make this move, but he knew he never would. Eric had told him he wanted to be together, and Kyle had said no. Kyle had drawn the line, and it would need to be him that tore it down if anything was going to change. Eric was far too respectful to ask again after being told no. Kyle also knew that they’d bounced this thing back and forth between them too many times already. This would be the last go, one way or another.
But he knew what he had felt when he saw that plane on fire and thought Eric might be gone. Something in Kyle knew they weren’t done yet. At least he hoped not.
They walked in silence to the SUV. They were inside and buckled in before Kyle found the courage to speak again.
“I’m really glad you’re okay, Eric.”
“Me too,” he answered softly. “I thought . . . I thought I knew what being afraid felt like. I’ve been in car wrecks, fallen off high places, I’ve even been mugged. I’ve been hurt on the ice and seen people I care about get hurt. But I didn’t—” he shook his head, hair falling down to cover his face. “I don’t think I’ve really been afraid until today. Now I know.”
Kyle cautiously reached out to tuck Eric’s hair behind his ear. He turned to look at him with such wide, hopeful eyes that Kyle wanted to cry on the spot. He brushed his thumb over Eric’s cheek.
“I wanted to call you,” Eric blurted out. “When we were .. falling. Scott was calling Kip and all I wanted was to talk to you. But I—”
“I blocked your number.” Kyle said, voice heavy with regret. He couldn’t remember why he’d ever felt the need to do such a thing.
“ . . . what would you have said?” Eric had been thinking of him in what he’d thought were his last moments. Was it possible Kyle hadn’t wrecked this thing completely?
Eric took a deep breath and took Kyle’s hand, lowering it to his thigh, where he held it gently in his. “Probably a lot of the same shit you blocked me to get away from.” He bit his lip with a sad little smile. “I love you, I’m sorry, nothing will ever matter again if I can’t have you, the works.”
Kyle inhaled. “Is that . . . do you still feel that way?” Eric didn’t answer, so Kyle tried again. “I saw that plane on fire and I was so scared for you. It made me realize that a part of me still assumed we would end up together. And once that was threatened, all my stubbornness and reasons for breaking up felt so stupid. I was mad, yes, but I loved you, so what did our fights matter?”
“Kyle—”
“Let me get this out, please. I was terrified you were hurt, or dead, and nobody would tell me anything because I wasn’t your family. And that felt wrong. I want to be something, Eric. To you. When you came to the Kingfisher last month . . . I wish I could go back and change my answer. Kiss you in that dusty storeroom. But if you’ve moved on, I get that. I understand I’ve hurt things, maybe beyond repair. And if you say go, I’ll go.”
Silence fell again. Eric was staring at Kyle with a truly unreadable expression. It suddenly occurred to him that this would be a very awkward drive if Eric said no. He probably should have waited until they were at Eric’s house to bring this up. Too late now though.
“ . . . Eric?”
Eric took a deep breath and looked down to where he was gripping Kyle’s hand. He squeezed it once, then said, “Don’t go.”
Kyle’s heart leapt. “Really?”
“If you’ll have me, yes. My affections and wishes have not changed.”
Kyle blinked, tears filling his eyes. Then something clicked.
“ . . . was that Pride and Prejudice?"
“Shit, busted.”
Kyle leaned over and kissed him. Awkward and tired and coffee breath, and the sweetest, softest touch of Eric’s lips on his, Eric’s hands in his hair. Kyle stroked his hand over Eric’s beard and sighed happily. They pulled back and pressed their foreheads together for a long moment. Then—
“Come home with me?” Eric asked.
Kyle hummed, not opening his eyes. “I don’t know, I’m pretty tired.”
Eric pushed at his shoulder. “Not for sex! I just . . . I want to be with you tonight. Plus, I do need observation. The doctors don’t think I’m concussed but I definitely hit my head, so I’ll need someone to make sure I’m okay, give me mouth to mouth if I pass out”
Kyle laughed. “I don’t think that’s the usual standard of care.”
“Shows what you know about medicine then.”
They both laughed at that, still holding hands and leaning against each other.
“Well, if it’s for your health, I guess I can do that.” Kyle said. “But you’ll have to let me give you a thorough physical in the morning.”
“Oh it will be physical, I’m sure.”
Kyle smacked him. “That was low hanging fruit.”
“Ah, but you’re dating an old man, you like that sort of thing.”
“Eric!” Kyle gasped, laughing harder than the joke really deserved. He was exhausted.
When he finally got his breath back, Kyle put the car in reverse and began backing out of the parking stall. When they reached the street, he reached out his hand and Eric took it. Kyle pressed it to his lips. “I do, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Love you.”
“I love you too.”
The light turned green.