Chapter Text
“Alright, nothing serious. Nobody was hit, no other car involved, and he didn’t even drink that much. Some random cops was bored and decided to stop him in the mid of the night.” Melo’s voice came through the phone, and LeBron couldn’t help but think back to their rookie season, those days when Melo was playing in Denver.
There was a time difference between the East and West, so their conversations often took place in the early hours of the morning in Cleveland. Now that Melo was in Oklahoma, it felt like they were back in those days, except that, everything was completely different, but the time difference. The time difference remained the same.
"Good to hear." LeBron held the phone in one hand, his other hand tapped the coffee table casually, without a rhythm.
“This has nothing to do with you,” Melo added, clearly sensing the frustration on the other end of the phone. “Swish was very calm when he spoke to me, so to me, it was just a simple speeding, it was an incident.”
LeBron sighed: "He was speeding in Ohio, but he called you."
“What you want me to say? To him, you’re just my friend, come on you have to admit that.” Melo chuckled softly. “Com’n, Bron, let go, okay? You’re concerned for your teammates, I get it, and that was to say it nicely; to put it bluntly, you’re being too controlling.”
“I have to do something, this can’t go on.” LeBron stared at the crystal wine glass that was placed on the small coffee table in front of him. The glass was half-filled with some vintage red wine. It was one of his favorites, yet he suddenly had an urge to throw it on the floor; he had an urge to smash something out of frustration.
Melo immediately realized that LeBron wasn't talking about JR: "Look, Russ, PG, and I lost too. New teammates always need time to integrate, and to figure things out. By the way, F*ck the Timberwolves! That was clearly an illegal screen!" He spat out a bunch of profanities through gritted teeth.
“Wow, didn’t know you still have it..” LeBron was amused by Melo’s varied and creative ways of cursing and commented in the middle of all. Melo finished cursing, immediately calmed down, as if nothing had happened, naturally he continued what they were talking about prior with LeBron: “But I mean, figuring things out can’t be hard for you? You know very well what is the right thing to do.”
“Knowing what’s right and actually doing it are two different things.” LeBron paused, his mind racing, trying to find a good opportunity to start a conversation with THAT person.
"How are things between you and Kevin lately?" Melo had other thoughts, he mentioned another name to LeBron. "You and D, the way you two interact in front of the media, you guys were so unhinged. You are not worried about what he would think of all that? What's with all this talk about jam and peanut butter? You two are insufferable, shameless."
"Hey watch your month, I got this, don’t worry about me."
“Hey, don’t give me that look,” Melo scoffed. “Do you know that Russ eats a sandwich before every game? Every time I see him eat one, I’m reminded of that damn analogy, disgusting.”
“I don’t know,” LeBron admitted, seemingly circled back to him and Wade, “but there’s always a solution to things in basketball.”
"Come on, I wasn't talking about playing ball. Didn't you think this over when you recruited D? I knew I should have tried harder to get him here."
“I didn’t do nothing…I wasn’t thinking about recruiting him, I was called and said, ‘how you doing lately,’ ya know, whenever I brought this up in the past, he always laughs it off and never takes it seriously.”
Melo remained silent for a moment, then said, "I still think you could try switching Swish's and his positions. Of course, this is just my personal opinion." The implication was clear.
LeBron shook his head. "I can't make that decision for him." He looked up, and Love came out of the bathroom. Love saw him on the phone when he walked out, he pointed to the door, and tilted his head, asking with his eyes if he needed to leave. LeBron shook his head again, beckoned to him, and Love shrugged, leaning casually against LeBron's arm, and propping his feet up on the sofa armrest.
“But then, why am I even doing this?” Melo’s voice drifted into Love’s ears. “I haven’t even figured out my own team’s problems yet, and here I am, wasting my time and effort.”
Love deliberately laughed out loud, just loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear.
“Hey, Kev…” Melo immediately switched to that carefree tone.
“Say hello to Russ for me,” Love told Melo. “Tell him I’ll be waiting for him at the finals.”
"You bet."
"I'm hanging up..." LeBron put the phone away.
“You son of a b*tch you chose your boyfriend over me?” Melo continued, “how dare you hang up on me! Hey you listen Bron, next time we play, Imma cook you so bad!”
LeBron put the phone down, turned back to Love and grinned: "Welp, we shall see next time we play Melo. I don’t think he can cook me."
Love held the half-finished glass of wine that LeBron had just drunk. He raised the glass so that it would be level to his eyes, then closed one eye, stared at LeBron through the scarlet liquid: "JR isn't used to being the sixth man."
“And you’re not used to playing center,” LeBron said, trying to take the glass back from his hand. “Maybe we just need more time to gel; it’s only the beginning of the season.”
“Indeed, we still have time.” Love tilted his head back, downed the glass of red wine in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow, a single drop of wine leaving a faint mark on his chin. LeBron reached out, his fingers tracing the back of Love's neck, his thumb brushing against his fine stubble, barely erasing the trace of the wine. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, he was pulled back by a force. Love's left hand rested on his right wrist; he wasn't using much force, but LeBron silently allowed.
“Listen to me, if you want what's best for him, if you want to get another ring from him, then sometimes it's better to end it now than to drag it out.” Love’s voice wasn't loud, and his hand was warm, making LeBron reluctant to pull away.
“I’ve been thinking, that I have spoiled you too much recently…” LeBron said half-jokingly, “Get me a towel, the water from your hair is dripping onto the sofa.”
Love understood this was LeBron's indirect way of rejecting him, meaning, "I don't want to talk about this right now. I've given you an out, you'd better talk about something else." He stuck out his tongue, released LeBron's wrist, and leaned over to toss a towel over from a nearby shelf. The first time he stayed overnight here, LeBron dried his hair with a towel, and this had become a routine between them since. Love claimed that his hair was not used to the use of the hairdryer, and LeBron didn't call him out on it, even though LeBron’s home had the most advanced appliances one could imagine, which of course included a hairdryer.
LeBron's fingers ran through Love's hair; unlike the soft towel, his fingers were rough. "Give me some time, Kev," LeBron whispered, whether to himself or truly to Love, it was unclear. "I'll do everything I can."
That's literally the last thing I want to hear from you... Love rolled his eyes inwardly, which LeBron noticed. He turned to Love and said, "Looks like someone’s not happy with the way he’s been treated right now?"It was ambiguous, could mean how the hair was being handled, or how the basketball situation was handled.
“It’s alright, I guess,” Love replied. LeBron smiled at him, and just like that, the topic was dropped.
The next day, LeBron stood outside Coach Lue's office, as if time had reversed, transporting him back to his chaotic childhood. He stood outside the principal's office, racking his brains for a convincing reason for his absence, though in retrospect, any excuse seemed clumsy: the principal already knew the real reason of him missing the school. Before he could fully pull himself out from the memory, Wade appeared in front of him.
“Yo Bron,” Wade waved at him, “It’s early in the morning, too early to daydream, hey, come back to me.”
LeBron snapped out of his daze: "What the hell are you doing here?"
Wade gave him a look that seemed to ask, "Do we have to do this?" LeBron instantly understood. Seeing that LeBron didn't speak, Wade put his arm around his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Don't look so surprised. What's so surprising about this?"
“When you signed with us, there was a term in your contract…” LeBron thought for a long time before finally managing to utter a sentence.
"Are you stupid?" Wade let go of him and said disdainfully, "The contract is already signed, who cares about the term NOW? You don’t trust my basketball IQ? Just so you know, I'm counting on you for the last ring of my career... Now I regret, should’ve joined Melo and the others, Russ seems like the kind of person who's very level-headed and knows what to do."
"Bullsh*t, ain’t no way you need me for another ring." LeBron scoffed. "Are you sure that’s something you want to share with me?"
“Time is precious in the morning, I don’t have no time to chat with you, I have to train hard you know.” Wade gestured for LeBron to shut up and pushed him aside. “No, no, you don’t say what you are gonna say, zip it, I don’t want to hear it right now.”
“You have no idea what I’m trying to say.” LeBron took a step back and then stopped, stood and stared at Wade.
“Not important, don’t care.” Wade turned around and walked a few steps, then looked back to see LeBron remained at the same spot, head down, observing the floor. He had no choice but to walk back to LeBron, with a hint of helplessness he said: “Bron, are you arguing with me? I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.”
LeBron looked up: "Actually, I watched some of our previous game footage last night... I wanted to see if I could do something different this time."
“Things ARE different this time, aren’t they?” Wade smiled. “Anyway, don’t forget that between us, there’s nothing we can’t do.” He raised his chin. “Our past, yeah there were regrets, and gaps, who said we can’t make them right this time? What you say? Never mind, I don’t need your answer right now, but you know mine, you know what I want.”
LeBron watched Wade's figure disappear from sight. Back then, there was a time when Wade's casual remark, "Is there anything we can't do together?" had completely shaken his heart, changed his path forever. Now that Wade had finally come to this city, HIS city, and once again being the considerate one that made sacrifices; now everything seemed to be revert to their past, yet LeBron felt no sense of reality about it.