I've Got It Bad (And You'll Never Know) (BXB)

ii.

 "Come on, Jules, I gotta see him again! And you're the only one who'll go with me!"

Julian massaged his forehead, trying to no avail not to get frustrated. "Max, I don't have the money right now. And I just took my leg off for the evening," He gestured to the abandoned prosthetic to further emphasize his point, "it'd be a real hassle to get it back on and leave the house."

Max groaned, his warm brown eyes leaking desperation. "My treat, I swear to God! And that leg shit won't work on me, I've known you for too long. You can put that thing on in less than 30 seconds. Less than 10, if you smell pasta."

"Go ask Lenny. He's feelin' way better than last week. I don't even like hockey, Max, that was the first game I've gone to since I was a kid-- I just wanted to remember what it was like. And now I recall. And I'm done."

"I know what this is really about." Max bit his lip. "You're pissed that I'm interested in Joey Thatchlin."

Julian tried to keep his voice flat. Face indifferent. "And why should I give a shit about that?"

"'Cause you told me he's bad news!" the tension fell from Julian's body-- "--And I get that Jules, I do, but I get to decide for myself who's bad news! I want to give this a shot, and as a close personal friend of mine, it's your job to support me, even when I want to do somethin' real stupid."

"Or someone real stupid?"

"Yeah, asshole. Now will you put your leg on and catch the train to the stadium with me?"

Max had a little too much power over Julian. Between the floppy caramel hair, deep brown eyes that always looked a little sad, the neck scar that moved with his adam's apple, the single dimple-- Julian hated how far he'd go to make that dimple appear. "Sure. Fuck it. If you're payin'."

Dimple: Check. "Shit! Yes! Fuckin' thank you! You're the best, man, I mean it!"

~~~

Hockey became a weekly ritual for the two college boys. Reluctantly, on Julian's part-- but at least he got to spend time with Max. Well, about ten minutes with Max, until Joey skated onto the field, and he lost Max entirely.

"You gotta stop eye-fucking Joey with such intensity, Max, he's gonna get the evil eye."

"That ain't how the evil eye works." Max mumbled in reply, still panting after Joey's silhouette. "Shit, I still haven't quite figured out how this game works, but I think Joey's ass is the real winner."

Jules restrained himself from pretending to gag. The joke would be completely lost on Max, who hadn't looked at Jules for the past hour.

Players frantically skated around the ice, trying to land a last goal before the second period ended. It looked like their team was about to get somewhere, when-- Beep. Second period done. The players stopped in place, then returned to their sides so the ice could be flooded. Joey pulled off his helmet, his dark hair somehow stuck in a perfect quiff despite the mountain of sweat dripping from his face.

Max sighed. "Wicked dreamy." Joey brought his water bottle to his lips, greedily slurping. "Jesus. Look at that guy."

All Jules could think about was how smelly Joey must be-- a scent cocktail involving a pound of hair gel and ten pounds of sweat. Yuck.

"You're gonna be broke pretty soon if you keep spending all your money on hockey tickets so you can watch Thatchlin drink water twice a game."

"Try some gratitude! I might just be here for the hunks, but you're supposed to actually like hockey, remember?"

Not nearly as much as you think. "Yeah, sure, it's alright."

Max didn't catch the change in tone. Joey was putting his helmet on to get back to the game when he happened to glance up at the stands-- catching Max's eye, he gave a curt wave. Half a smile. Max froze, awestruck. "Shit."

"What?"

"He-- the bitch just fuckin' waved at me."

"Oh, fuckin' hell, a hockey player, waving at a fan? We better get fuckin' CNN on this shit."

"He also smiled, jackass."

"He smiled? Good Lord. We'll have to go straight to the president."

Max shoved Julian lightly. "Jules, he acknowledged that I exist! That's the first time! And we've been to like, five games! I'm shittin' bricks!"

"You get too excited over jack shit. You'd have more luck interacting with the guy if you went to one of the stupid frat parties he's always bouncin' around at."

Max's eyes sparkled like Julian had just offered him a million bucks. "Shit. Did you give up the leg for extra brain cells?"