The Jade Dragon, chapter 8

Some of the Right Things
Summary: “It might not be love but it’s something.”
Warnings: Confrontation and drama. And looong chapter.1

--2

“Nightroad!” Coach Pierson snapped, “Where the hell is your brain?!”3

“Sorry sir.” Vane dejectedly hung his head. He knew that shot should have at least been a close one. 4

He’d been sailing along the ice fast into a two-person offensive and the goalie had been preoccupied with Marty, holding the puck. When Marty flipped the puck to Vane coming in from the opposite side of the rink, it should have been easy to pass it straight into the net… and he’d missed.5

Missed far.6

“Get off the ice,” Pierson said disdainfully, waving him away. “When you get your head put on straight, then you come back on, you hear me?”7

“Yes, sir.” 8

“Drake! I need a Forward!”9

Head still heavy, an ache began to throb behind Vane’s right eye. This was stupid, he told himself as he skated off to the box. He and Elliot Drake exchanged nods, the other Forward’s expression sympathetic. He slumped into the bench, dropping his stick and gloves and pulling off his helmet. Cradling his head in his hands, he moaned, “Where is my brain?”10

“You’ve been out of sorts a little longer than today, Nightroad,” Nicholas said, panting as he took the seat next to Vane, having just come off the ice as well. “What’s up with you?”11

“Just got a lot on my mind,” Vane admitted. He peeped through his fingers at Nick, “You saying I’ve been a little off for a while?”12

“Since three weeks ago, I’d say,” Nick confirmed with a shrug as he pulled off his gear. “Around the time you were talking about Imrad hooking up.” He gave Vane a funny look and quietly asked, “You’re not… you know… hung up on Imrad or anything are—” Vane burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe not.”13

“Oh Gods!” Vane choked, “That’s a good one. I’ve got to tell Imz about this sometime.” He gasped on a breath, still grinning. “Geez, Nick, I love Imz to pieces but he’s like a brother, you know? I’m happy for him.”14

“Well I’m just saying,” Nick wrinkled his nose at him, “That was about the time you started spacing out.”15

With a sigh Vane propped his feet up on the rail in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees, and considered what Nick had just said. Kate had mentioned something similar over their lunch yesterday. And really, that time the two had mentioned would be about the point Cain had come to screw up his little waiting game with Leonora. If two people who didn’t really know each other had noticed the same thing then there ought to be some truth to the words.16

“Yea,” Vane admitted. “I think I know what it is.”17

“Are you going to be able to sort it?”18

Vane studied the slices in the rubber floor padding and sighed again, “I honestly don’t know.”19

“It’s love trouble, isn’t it?” Nick prodded quietly, sympathetically. Head popping up, Vane looked over at his team-mate, startled. “I know the look. Lots of people know the look, actually.” His cheeks coloured a little, grey eyes shying away from Vane’s to look out across the ice, “I’m told it’s the same expression I get when I look at Stephen.”20

Reaching over, Vane slung a companionable arm over Nick’s shoulders, “You and me both got the same problem, mate.”21

Nick made a sound of agreement then stiffened and sat up a little straighter, “Hey Vane? Speaking of the look, that guy’s got it too.”22

Cringing, Vane looked up. Sure enough, on the other side of the rink stood Miguel, hands in his pockets and glaring across the distance. “Miguel.”23

“Same look,” Nick muttered then nudged him, “Only he seems to be looking at you.”24

“Shut up.” Vane growled. Resigned he swung his feet to the floor, lifted his arm off Nick’s shoulders and shoved his team mate, pushing off him to get up. He made a face over his shoulder, Nick making a face in return, and began the trek to cross around the rink to where Miguel was. 25

It wasn’t until about half way there that he realised he had no idea what to say, footsteps slowing down, and apprehension weighed his heart.26

“Hey,” he said to Miguel’s jacket front. Crap, even with the added boost of ice skates he still lacked a few inches to match the guy’s height.27

“Hi,” came the soft reply.28

Vane fidgeted a moment, fingers picking at the edge of his jersey. There came a slam against the nearby plexi-glass wall of the rink and with a quick glance at it, he suggested, “We should move into the hall, it’s kind of noisy here.”29

Miguel nodded and they fell into step together. Time seemed to move in slow motion, negotiating the rubber-padded steps out into the hallway in his skates, Miguel tall and quiet beside him.30

“So.” Vane wanted to smack himself; he sounded so lame.31

“I’m not going to apologise for what I did and said,” Miguel murmured quietly, standing that little half-pace too close than a friend really should. “I don’t regret any of that. I meant every word. But I am sorry if I pissed you off or offended you.”32

It took a few breaths, blinking in confusion, for Vane to realise that he wasn’t expected to talk. Miguel had come here to speak, and relief washed the guilt and nervousness away. He leaned back against the wall behind him and nodded, throat tight around words he felt he should say but he didn’t even know what they were.33

“I don’t expect you to forgive me or say anything about that,” Miguel un-pocketed a hand and scrubbed it through his hair, exhaling with frustration. “I mean, I know apologies are designed for the one at fault to feel better so you don’t have to—”34

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, pushing off the wall. He scrubbed a hand through his own hair, messing it up, grinning a small lop-sided embarrassed smile, “It’s okay.” 35

Honestly there was no reason to say it, it wasn’t like in the grander scheme of things it would ever be okay but Miguel had probably been… well… desperate. Vane paused, searching in Miguel’s dark brown eyes and he could see in them a dark and miserable sadness. Then he noticed the weary taint to Miguel’s normally calm and approachable countenance, an air that now seemed heavy with impotent frustration.36

But it would be okay. And Vane, to a certain extent, had led him on despite his insistence that it was Leonora he wanted… he held a large responsibility of the blame, he knew that. So it made sense to forgive; it was a trade he could give. This made the misunderstanding okay.37

Right?38

“It’s okay,” Vane repeated.39

“Thank you.” Seeming to deflate, Miguel shoved his hand back into his pocket, shoulders slumping as he looked down at the floor.40

“You okay?” Vane found himself asking gently, real concern tightening in his chest.41

Miguel shrugged, “Just… it’s hard to look at you and not want to touch.”42

That explained the hands in his pockets but for some reason, Vane didn’t feel the least bit inclined to move away. He stepped back anyway, purely out of knowledge it was what he should do then froze when he caught the flash of hurt in Miguel’s eyes. 43

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d quickly taken that step forward again and reached out to Miguel’s arm, regret in his touch and voice, “Geez, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me.” Confusion and guilt collided in his chest, mixed in with self-annoyance at hurting Miguel.44

“Maybe it’s not you,” Miguel said sadly, shoulders slumping. “Maybe this is what’s wrong.” He gestured between them in general. With a shake of his head, he stepped back and Vane’s hand slipped from his arm. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m just… going to go. I… I’ll see you around.”45

“Miguel, that’s--” not what I want. Vane so badly wanted to say the words but knew he was being selfish; wanting the friend but not the man. He dropped his hand, not knowing what ever could be said. 46

The person he joked around with, laughed with and found to be so much fun, the guy who called him ‘dragon’ and watched him with burning eyes, who made his world turn upside down stealing kisses and gentle touches. That person wasn’t who Vane had standing before him; a far cry from yesterday’s determined trooper making Vane’s choice of Leonora difficult because he wasn’t giving up.47

“Have you given up?” The words slipped out of Vane’s mouth before he even knew he’d drawn the breath to say them.48

“I don’t…” Miguel hesitated, studying his face, looking deep into his eyes. He sighed, “You look so sad when you ask me that but I don’t know what you want. I mean, I hear what you say you want but when you look at me… when I hold you… it’s not the same as what you say.”49

“I’m sorry.” Mortified, Vane looked away, looked down at the wet patches the ice melting off his skates had left on the floor.50

When Miguel stepped closer, hand cupping under his chin, Vane froze in indecision. Then a thumb swept up brushing along his bottom lip, ghostly and brief. Stiff and uncertain he did nothing when Miguel leaned close and brushed a kiss over his temple and trailed warm lips over his cheek.51

Suddenly, with a rough sound, the hand was gone and Miguel stepped back, footsteps moving on and leading away.52

When Vane looked up, Miguel was already half way down the hall.53

--54

That had been Tuesday. And by Friday, Vane was miserable.55

Nick had pestered him all the rest of Tuesday practice about Miguel; at which practice, for the unhappy record, he had done abysmally in. 56

Wednesday he’d been out of sorts because it was when he usually caught up with Miguel in the school café. It was the one day in the week their paths crossed at school and all through the break, munching inattentively on sandwiches and crisps, Miguel had not shown up. Though, what would he have said had Migs even arrived? Perhaps it was a good thing. Now if only that clench his chest would unwind and leave him alone.57

That afternoon, practice was cancelled so he shot hoops with Imrad;58

“This thing with Miguel,” Vane started, staring at the ball he dribbled between his hands.59

Imrad scowled, plunking his hands down on his hips and stormed, “Bloody well took you long enough—”60

“It’s not like that!” he hastened to correct, head popping up. “Nothing’s changed between him and me.”61

“What? So you’re still not together?” Imrad glared. “You are so hopeless.”62

“Shut up and listen, jack ass,” Vane growled, stepping back and pulling the ball up between his hands at his chest, pushing it hard at Imrad who managed not just to catch it but make it look easy.63

Pressing his lips together, Imrad tucked it under his arm and planted his feet to wait.64

With a sigh, running a hand through his hair he started again, softly this time, “It’s just bothering me. This thing… I mean, I know he likes--” Vane, I love you. “—me. Really likes me. And this whole deal has got him hurting.” 65

Imrad glared disapprovingly at him. 66

“I know, I know,” Vane muttered. “He came by practice last night, came to apologise for fighting with me about it.” When Imrad raised a brow at him, “Yea, he came over to my room when I got back from dropping Leo off and pretty much ripped into me about it.” 67

Imrad nodded once, sharply, approving.68

Vane ignored it but hesitated before he spoke, “So yeah. Then when he came by at practice to apologize about it, I said it was okay. But he said there was probably something wrong with it all, him after me and me after Leo and…” Exhaling with frustration he gave his best friend a lost look, “I don’t want to not see him again, though.”69

Imrad said nothing.70

And for a long moment they blinked at each other until Vane rolled his eyes and muttered, “We’re too old for this, okay? I un-shut up you, smart ass.”71

Growling, “Jackass or smart ass, which is it?”72

“I take it back, just forget it—” Vane waved dismissively, turning to go, heart sinking down into his stomach.73

Imrad grabbed his arm and demanded, “Just tell me, do you like him?”74

Slowly and hesitantly, “He’s a good friend.”75

“Are you attracted to him?”76

Well, he enjoyed the kisses, did that count? “Sort of.” He sighed, “Sometimes.” Then he amended, “Not always.” At Imrad’s raised brows he added very softly, “He’s kissed me…?”77

Blink. “You enjoyed that?”78

Vane wished his cheeks would not heat up, “Yes.”79

“So you are attracted to him,” Imrad stated matter of factly. “So what’s your problem?”80

“I don’t know.” Vane rubbed his forehead, pulling his arm from Imrad’s grasp. “Just… I like spending time with him. He’s a fun guy, nice you know? But I don’t feel like… I want to date him or anything.” With a frustrated huff he added, “But I don’t want to not see him either.”81

“He’s… safe.” With a frown, Imrad poked him on his shoulder, demanding a response. “You’re attracted to him but you’re not sure you want to date him. He’s the one who treats you great and you’re taking from him.”82

It came grudgingly, embarrassed, “Yes.”83

Shaking his head, Imrad sighed then asked, “Look, just… do you trust him?”84

“I…” There wasn’t any point denying it, really. “Yes.”85

“You might want to consider the fact, Vane,” Imrad said quietly, “That while it might not be love as you know it, it’s something.” He shrugged, “And it’s certainly something worlds over more than what you have with Leonora.”86

--87

Then Wednesday night, Vane had dinner with Leonora, Katie and Jordan, while Imrad and Marcus went off to go do their single-date-thing.88

It felt less like a double date and more like hanging out with his friends as normal. He was actually rather thankful Leonora hadn’t asked him to stay and talk when he brought her home. And it wasn’t until he got back to his apartment building that he realised he hadn’t even checked to see if she was wearing the necklace yet.89

And there was no sight of Miguel.90

Thursday was a busy school day and his work was dismal, he knew it and his teachers knew it. He couldn’t concentrate, had to repeatedly be called back to focus during lectures, and he had been exhausted because he wasn’t getting much sleep. 91

At practice that evening, Coach Pierson had yelled at him again. And because Nick looked like he was looking for an excuse to pester him some more, he avoided his team mate and studiously did not look around the bleachers for a familiar dark head.92

Then Friday night with Imrad and Marcus was nothing short of disgustingly humiliating;93

“You know,” Marcus said softly, much too amused, “sometimes loving someone means loving them just the way they are.” He shrugged, “They’re not yours, and its one of the reasons you love them.” Imrad flashed him a look, making him reach out and rub Imrad’s arm.94

Vane sighed, resisting the urge to bang his head on the table, “Okay, I’ll bite. That sounds like the ‘wanting what you cannot have’ reverse psychology theory.”95

“Sort of. I’m saying that it’s liking what you see but it’s not the same anymore when you actually have it.” Marcus grinned, “Like meeting your favourite movie star and finding out they have bad breath. Should’ve just let the perfect image remain on TV, you know?”96

“That makes a little kind of sense,” Vane conceded but he shifted as far away from Marcus as the booth would allow. “I believe in that theory.”97

Then he pounced, “All I’m saying is, I think the reverse works too.”98

“That what, something you think you don’t want hold more value when it’s actually obtained?” Vane shook his head, “Let’s put this in context. You’re saying that you think I might love someone if they’re mine?”99

Imrad snorted at that, not looking up from the menu.100

“Something like that.” Marcus reached over and toyed with a lock of Imrad’s hair which had fallen out of his ribbon, “Thing is, you and Miguel already have the best parts going for you. You trust him. You know him.”101

“I don’t think I can agree that far,” Vane sighed. He shook his head, “Man… you guys are really pushing, aren’t you?”102

“He may have a point,” Imrad considered, lifting his head to raise his brows at his best friend.103

Vane moaned, “Not you too.”104

“Shut up. All I’m saying is that it’s something to consider.” Imrad rolled his eyes and went back to deciding what to eat.105

Marcus smiled, leaned over and murmured in Imrad’s ear, “Thank you, love.”106

“You’re welcome.” Imrad’s eyes trained on the menu but he leaned over to nuzzle a bit.107

Vane ignored the pang in his chest as he watched them, this perfect couple who hid nothing from each other, who were just so happy together. “God, you’re all conspiring against me,” he accused pulling his gaze away from their little moment, scowling. “Leave me alone.”108

“I’m supposed to be the anti-social temperamental grouch,” Imrad said, still not even looking up from the menu as he pointed at himself, then he pointed at Vane, “Not you.”109

“I don’t need a reason to be selfish, Imz,” Vane said, immensely annoyed. “I’m just pissed off you all are pushing me to date him.”110

Marcus grinned, watching the exchange back and forth.111

“He’s good for you,” Imrad said stubbornly, slamming the menu down and glaring. “And I can’t believe you didn’t consider that if Leonora was worth a last ditch effort then Miguel wouldn’t deserve one either. That they don’t merit equal attempts out of you.”112

Vane paused. He glanced over at Marcus, who nodded almost imperceptibly to him.113

“Ahh… I see you’re hearing me now.” Imrad smiled slyly. “Think about it, mate.”114

TBC.