Chapter Twelve
Danny hadn’t expected Eliot to remember his birthday, so when he’d gotten a text from him, he’d been surprised. Not many people had remembered, and no one who Danny really wanted to see—except his mom, but she was thousands of miles away.
Which was why he’d invited Eliot over. It had seemed like an awesome idea at the time—and sensible, since a real boyfriend wouldn’t leave him to spend his birthday alone. Eliot had already missed this week’s game because his boss had kept him late, so they needed to make up for that before people started asking if they’d broken up.
This way, Eliot could post that he’d been here, they could take a selfie together, and everything would be right with the world.
Danny jumped the moment the doorbell rang. The pizza delivery guy had just left, so Eliot’s timing was perfect.
“Hey,” Danny said, stepping back from the door once he’d opened it to let Eliot inside. “Uh, make yourself at home, obviously. There’s food, I’m gonna grab some wine.” He waved in the general direction of the kitchen.
“Happy birthday,” Eliot said with a soft smile, holding out an envelope with Danny’s name written on it in the same elaborate scrawl he’d seen in Eliot’s notebook. “It’s just a card,” he added.
Danny held the envelope delicately in his hands, as though it was something rare and precious. In a lot of ways, it was. “I didn’t get many of those. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Eliot said, grinning broadly, his eyes lighting up. “I’m gonna go steal all your pizza,” he added, disappearing into the living room.
He wasn’t sure exactly when he and Eliot had become friends, but they definitelywerefriends now. Danny liked that. He didn’t have so many that he could afford not to have Eliot.
Aside from having been in the closet for years, he’d always been kind of a loner anyway. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy a little human contact from time to time. Ideally, one human at a time.
Danny didn’t like to think of himself as an introvert, but he was. He always had been, and playing sport had never changed that. That was just his job, what he was good at. He’d never wanted the fame, and while he was happy to be a team player, he’d never really wanted to be super close with his teammates.
Eliot didn’t make him feel crowded, though. Eliot didn’t take up much of the energy Danny had reserved for dealing with other people.
Bottle of wine in hand, Danny headed into the living room to see Eliot halfway through a slice of pizza. Laughter bubbled up in his chest as he took in the sight of Eliot carefully dangling strands of melted cheese into his mouth.
This was nice. This was exactly what he’d wanted out of his birthday when he’d thought about it. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want the pressure of not being alone, either. Eliot was the perfect person for that.
He moved to sit down on the couch next to him, setting down the bottle and two glasses he’d grabbed in the kitchen.
“I have a whole collection of wines that I assume are very nice. I… can’t really tell the difference,” Danny admitted.
“I can’t either.” Eliot shrugged. “But I will help you drink it.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Danny said, holding the bottle between his knees to work a corkscrew into it.
A tiny part of him hoped that Eliot might stay the night again. He didn’t want to think too hard about why he wanted that or what it meant, but it had been so nice to wake up next to someone for once.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he could ask for, but he could encourage it if things looked like they were going that way.
Once he had two glasses of wine poured, Eliot made him hold his up to take a selfie of the both of them. Eliot was way better at taking photos of Danny than Danny was at taking photos of himself. He’d tried it a few times, hated the result, and then stopped bothering.
He doubted anyone would miss seeing his face in their Twitter feeds on a semi-regular basis. Although, judging by the attention Eliot’s photos of the two of them were getting, maybe he was wrong about that.
Eliot was a more charismatic person than Danny by a long way, though. He’d probably gotten a lot of attention before all this. Besides, attention was the last thing Danny wanted.
“Here’s to thirty,” Eliot raised his glass. “You don’t look a day over twenty-nine.”
Danny snorted, touched his glass to Eliot’s, and then sipped his wine. “Yeah, yeah. Make fun of the old guy.”
“You’re really not that old,” Eliot said, taking a sip from his own glass.
Danny looked down at his lap. “I feel it sometimes. The whole groaning like I’m ninety when I stand up thing kinda doesn’t help.”
“You’ll heal,” Eliot said. “Once you’re done with the season.”
Humming, Danny grabbed a slice of pizza and started eating. He’d never be the same as he was when he was younger, but then again, neither would anyone else. That was life.
