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The decision to invite Carter in his hotel room had been made last minute, and Scott wondered if it wasn't too soon. He had never really came out to anyone, really; no one in his circle knew this part of him except for Kip. And wasn't that the exact problem? He buried himself so deep inside the closet, terrified, that he couldn't even dream of getting out of it.
His fear of being outed directed every corner of his life to the point it ruled even his relationship with whom he knew was it for him. He guessed that, in the end, it made sense that was Kip—whose arrival upturned over Scott's perception of his own sexuality—who helped him realize he was even denying himself the right to live, to love.
Loosing Kip's presence in his life, even for tree weeks, was enough. He had made his decision to move forward, but he couldn't do so without telling Carter first. Scott was tired of being careful[1], tired of hiding who he was to the people he loved. He wanted his best friend to meet Kip, to tell him he was happy for him; He wanted to see his most important people seated side by side, to have both part of his life in the same room without the lingering fear of being seen.
Scott sat on his hotel bed, leg bouncing as he stared at Carter's response to his earlier text. He knew it wouldn't be long before a knock came on the door, and Scott would let Carter in, and the two would talk. Scott would speak, Carter would listen, and then…
Then what? God, now he wondered; What if Carter reacted badly? He never did anything to make Scott believe he was homophobic, but sometimes people were less tolerant of the people around them than they were of strangers. Would he—
Before he could muse further, the door opened, making Scott feel like his heart was jumping out of his chest. He stood hastily as Carter let himself in, gaze assessing Scott's tense form.
"The door was open?" Carter offered, when he saw how panicked Scott was.
"Right," Scott cleared his throat, wiping his clammy hands on his sweats. He forgot that was the first thing he did after sending the text. Fuck.
Silence stretched for a moment, before Scott motioned to the bed. "Can we, like, sit?"
"Sure, dude," Carter's tone was seemingly deliberately relaxed, as he moved slowly to sit on the bed.
How terrible did Scott look?
Scott sat a couple feet next to him, and stared at his hands for a moment. Was he trembling? It felt like his hands were. Jesus, he felt less and less confident the more time stretched.
"So, are you, like, sick?" Carter asked, hands fidgeting in his hoodie's pockets. "Is that, uh, what you want to talk about?
Scott looked up at him, and saw how worried Carter was. He guessed it was fair that Carter's first assumptions that Scott asked him to talk was to announce something severe happening to him, but somehow he still felt bitter that it would be the first assumption, as if he hadn't done his best for over a decade to kill every risks of being seen as gay; He had molded himself into a good, straight NHL player, and now here he was.
Scott took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to recollect him, before opening slowly, looking at Carter. "I'm dating someone."
Carter nodded slowly. "Yes, we've established that. Your mystery girl,"[2] He added in a sort-of teasing tone, but the tension in his voice could still be heard. He carefully nudged Scott with his elbow.
Scott huffed, but it felt half-hearted. "That's the thing, I… Fuck," He passed a hand on his face, letting it rest on the lower part of his face for a moment as he contemplated his next words. He let his hand fall back on his lap, exhaling. "It's not a girl." He settled on saying. "He's not a girl."
Carter stayed silent, eyes widening as realization set it. Still, Scott couldn't do himself the disservice of not saying those fateful three words.
"I'm gay," He straightened up, feigning confidence.
"Holy shit, dude," Carter breathed out. "Fuck, I really sounded like an asshole earlier to you, didn't I?"[3] He mumbled. He stayed silent for a moment more, before shaking his head, like he was breaking himself out of a sort of haze. His face broke into a grin, before tugging Scott into a hug. "Fuck, I'm so proud of you."
Scott let it happen, wrapping his own arms around Carter, feeling he tension that had built up in his body finally let go. The hug didn't last long as Scott broke it apart first.
"So, to be clear, there is someone?" Carter asked at last. "A boy-someone, sure, but like..?"
Scott chuckled, "Yeah, there is. His name is Kip."
"Kip!" Carter exclaimed. "Holy shit, that's adorable! That really his name?" He grinned.
Scott felt something warm at how easy Carter accepted this part of him. "It's a nickname, but—"
"You gotta show me a picture," Carter didn't let him finished.
"I mean, technically, you already saw how he looked. Kinda," Scott smiled, but still fetched his phone, opening his locked folder and looking for a showing-a-friend appropriate picture of Kip.
"I did? When?"
"You remember when I was photographed at the Met?" Scott said, angling his phone to show Carter a photo of Kip he took a couple months ago. Kip was mid-sentence, cutting fruits on the counter, looking so content. He looked absolutely gorgeous, as he usually did. Scott remembered Kip had been ranting about something at work.
"That was with him? Jesus, no wonder you seemed so tense when I was giving you shit for it," Carter winced, before his eyes fell on the picture shown to him. His face broke into a soft smile, and he pulled Scott in a side hug. "I'm happy for you, man, you know that, right?"
Scott looked at him, knocking his head gently against his. "Thank you."
"Of course," Carter mumbled. "Is it okay if I, like, asked more questions?" He asked as they both pulled back.
"Sure. I reserve the right to ignore those I don't want to answer, though," he said dryly.
Carter waved his legitimate concern off —Hello? Scott shares a locker room with this guy— and instead adopted a very serious look, and an equally serious tone. He immediately proved Scott right. "Am I hot for gay men? I know women find me hot, but do men—?"
"No." Scott replied with the most sincere, serious tone he could muster.
A laugh broke out of him as Carter's face crumbled into horror.