Work Text:
Craig's POV
There was a knock at the hotel room door. Not insistent or nervous enough to be an angry veteran or a green-horned rookie. Concierge was a possibility but still not likely considering it was nine-thirty at night.
I tore my eyes away from the tedious amounts of game footage I had been scanning through on the laptop and walked over to open it, knowing already who it was on the other side in the hall.
"I hope you realize that I'm getting a little old for goodnight blowjobs." I spoke, my voice low so no passers-by could hear. It was a joke, of course, but barely.
"Well, hello to you too, Craig."
I rolled my eyes and went back to my seat at the little table where I had all of my game review paraphernalia spread out, letting him find his way around the room as he had done hundreds of times before. I sighed quietly as he hopped up on the bed and scooted up until he was seated against the headboard, quickly snatching up the remote to scroll through the available channels. Probably looking for another of his thinking shows like CSI or Law and Order.
It was hard to focus on the bland vids of possible roster combinations when I knew he needed attention. He wouldn't outrightly ask for any while I was working, but after knowing him for this long. I know things, and I know him.
Still, as much as I'd like to sit around and coddle Kevin after what was certainly a rough day (every day lately has been a nightmare, the dark circles under his eyes can attest) I was still a coach. I still had things to do before I crash for the night.
He understood that. Strangely, or not so strangely, depending on your point of view.
We had an incredible amount of understanding for each others lives, our careers and commitments. Of course, our day jobs kept our evenings interesting. That was a given. But we didn't mind. We just dealt with it. Very early on in our friendship, and later in our relationship, we learned that life was too short to be caught up on things that you have no control over. Simply stated: Deal and move on.
Just like tonight. He knows I have to do this. Outside this room, we're back to being Coach and GM. Back to black and white. Back to secrets, innuendos and double-entendres.
Though to be fair, lately neither of us has had the energy to be anywhere near interesting in the romance department.
Rather a lot of, 'Hey do you wanna?....or just sleep?'
Sleep always seemed to be the popular choice.
Tonight was no different. As much as I'd like to chug a red-bull and ride him like I did after every win back in the Dynasty days, I just...can't. Not that the drive isn't there... or the urge, it's just.... Things are different now.
Nights of shirt-ripping, sweaty, cum-until-you-black-out sex were gone. For the most part. There is the odd day where we find each other in the hall and I'm tugging at his tie and he's pulling at my warmups and we fuck like rabbits in a closet until we hear Huddy wandering around yelling for us. But that's not the norm anymore.
Neither of us complain when we end up falling asleep beside each other on the hotel bed, his cuddly bear-like body wrapped tightly around me, always a little spot of drool on the inside of my neck where he likes to rest his chin. I don't mind. I get him back by tickling him with my bristly hair when I treat him with a blow-job. I'm the only one who can still get on my knees and get back up again without help. I never really remind him of that little fact unless we're fighting because I'm a nice guy. Sort of.
I can hear him sigh from the bed. A long, heavy sigh and I know that's his non-verbal plea for me to close the laptop, strip down to my boxers and curl up next to him. Catch the last bit of his stupid show that has him enthralled but mostly bores me to tears. Which is fine, gives me some time to stroke the soft flesh of his expanding belly, the one he's very self-conscious of but that I still find attractive in a comfortable, endearing way. If I wanted hard, enthusiastic flesh to warm my side I'd look no further than the young studs on our roster that inevitably threw themselves at me year after year. I swear, I never had this much attention when I was a mouse-brown brunette with a chip on his shoulder. Let your hair go silver and put on a suit and you can't keep them off. But that's getting away from the point.
He's what I want. What I've always wanted. A teammate, a friend, a lover.....a brother. And he's all that and more.
That's why I think I'm going to leave the last bit of paperwork for the assistants in the morning. Work is important but it's not everything.
He's everything.
And the paperwork can wait.