“You want some coffee for the way back?” Elliot asks when Blake is getting ready to leave.
Blake shakes his head.
Elliot should be ready to go already, but Adam will forgive him if he’s five minutes late. Adam is five minutes late all the time, so he might not even notice. He leaves the dishes in the sink and grabs his jacket. Might as well head downstairs with Blake.
“Hey, uh… thanks again for dinner and… for the shirt,” Blake says before they part ways. “And I guess we won’t see each other before Christmas so… Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks, you too,” Elliot says. He gives Blake’s arm a nudge before he walks away, towards the Subway. When he looks the other way, he finds Adam’s car, pulled over a few spots away.
Elliot sincerely hopes that Adam was too busy looking at pictures of puppies on his phone to look at the entrance of Elliot’s building, but Elliot’s hopes are squashed when he gets into the car and Adam says, “Is there something wrong with my eyes or was that Blake Samuels?”
“It was,” Elliot says, which is all the information he’s willing to offer.
“How did you never mention that he lives in the same building as you do? That’s fucking weird. It’s a bit of a commute to Newark.”
“He doesn’t live here.” Elliot can’t start a rumor that Blake Samuels lives on the Upper West Side. Shit like that travels fast, especially when it’s to make fun of an opposing player.
Adam looks at him, shaking his head. “Moo. What’s with the extra short sentences? Explain?”
“We’re friends,” Elliot says with a shrug.
“You and Blake Samuels.”
“Yeah.”
“And you had a sleepover?” Adam asks.
Elliot very sincerely hopes that Adam won’t come to a conclusion that’s not even the right one, because Elliot has mentioned to him that he used to see a guy in juniors and Adam is pretty smart and has an extremely active imagination. They haven’t talked about it ever since, but Elliot hasn’t forgotten that Adam knows.
“You sleep at my place all the fucking time,” Elliot says. Anyway, It’s not like he’s the only hockey player in the world who has friends on other teams. Which is also what he tells Adam.
“Okay, but…” Adam narrows his eyes at him. “Wait, is he the friend you made the lasagna for?”
Elliot’s cheeks are hot. He hates everything about this. “So what?”
“Where’s my lasagna?”
Elliot snorts. Thank fuck. It’s just about food. “Are you jealous?”
“Yes? Because Blake Samuels apparently gets all the good food. Make me food, Moo.”
“You’re such an idiot. Start driving.”
Adam huffs at him, but does start driving, muttering about ribs and burgers and steak. Elliot does not mention that he did, indeed, make steak last night. Adam would never forgive him.
“Honestly…” Adam says ten minutes later, when he’s done giving Elliot ideas for their next dinner together, “I can’t see you being friends with a guy like Blake Samuels.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you’re all sunshine and he’s all… gloom and murder eyes.”
“He’s a really nice guy,” Elliot says.
“He’s hiding it well.”
“Dude, you’ve never even talked to him.”
“Yeah, because he’s scary.” Adam cackles. “Is he… secretly like a puppy?”
Blake really couldn’t be any less like a puppy, he’s more like an old dog who’s done with everyone’s shit, but still cuddly if you ask nicely. There’s something about Blake that makes Elliot want to be close to him. He knows it’s because he’s sort of lonely and because Blake is familiar and Elliot won’t turn it into a huge thing. It can’t be.
He just managed to figure things out with Blake and he’s so glad to have him in his life again and he won’t ruin that because he needs a hug.
“Sorry,” Adam says before Elliot has a chance to reply, “I don’t wanna be mean or anything, I swear. I’m sure he’s a great guy.”
Elliot only nods and makes a mental note to cook dinner for Adam at some point soon so he doesn’t have to be jealous of Elliot’s other friends.
“Hey,” Adam goes on, “if I get a puppy, will you help me convince Lou that Skywalker is a great name for dog?”
One of these days, Lou is going to murder Adam and Elliot won’t even be surprised.
#
Blake is waiting for his train at Penn Station when Charlie calls him. He’s asking if Blake wants to hang out later and sounds slightly disappointed when Blake tells him that he can’t.
So, once he’s on the train, Blake calls Mattie, because Mattie probably won’t mind if Blake brings Charlie over for dinner, especially if Blake mentions that he’s not sure if Charlie can actually feed himself. At the age of twenty-six. Because, really, the only things that Blake knows Charlie can make are chocolate chip cookies with so many chocolate chips that you have to send a search party to find the cookie part, grilled cheese that is better than anyone else’s grilled cheese, and pretty much anything you can safely stick into a microwave. Mattie will likely take pity.
Mattie answers his phone after a few rings with a way too cheerful, “Hey, kid. How was your hot date?”
“Mattie,” Blake says at the same time that Mattie’s wife, in the background, says, “Jake.”
“Katie thinks I’m a nosy old man,” Mattie says, still cheerful. “But I think if I have to babysit your suit, the least you can tell me is whether or not your date went well. I’m just concerned for your wellbeing.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Blake says.
“Okay. Good talk, kid.”
“Wait, I actually called for a reason.”
“Oh, did you? Thought you wanted to check up on your suit.”
