Chris & Mishka - Part II

One night that Chris would never forget, was the night they played at an off-campus Octoberfest, junior year. They took the stage at night, pretty drunk, in front of hundreds of Boston area college kids. Tripp took the mic in his hands and looked directly at Chris, who was several rows back from the stage. He was sandwiched between Mary Beth, and Tripp’s girlfriend at the time; but, there was no mistaking who those sky blue eyes were adoring...He was smiling, staggering a bit (like they all were) from drinking beer all day.

“I wanna dedicate this next song to...the my best friend...You’re practically my brother…The inspiration for everything I do,…(laughs)...and the best FUCK I ever had!...I LOVE you, Chris!...,” he said, looking extremely anguished. “Its too bad the world sucks so much!…”

Laying on the bed now, Chris remembered how perfectly and beautifully Tripp sang the words to ‘Drops of Jupiter’ by Trane. “…Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?…Did you finally get a chance to dance along the light of day?…Head back through the Milky Way?...Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star?…One without a permanent scar?…And did you miss while you were looking for yourself out there?…” 

“The world DOES suck so much!…,” Chris muttered to himself, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. He wanted to marry Tyler one day…If ‘the world’ would just accept that, all of the conflict that haunted him, would come to an end right now…

The bathroom door opened, and Tripp came out. He was freshly showered again, but looked green from all of the puking he did in there. Green, and like a zombie, from lack of sleep. “I swear to God, I puked up a piece of my fucking liver in there!,” he announced, casually.

Chris stared at him, watching him pull on a clean pair of boxers and shorts. “Tyler, I wish you’d stop drinking so much…Why don’t you come here and lay down? You haven’t slept since you landed!…”

Tyler cackled. “Yeah? So?…Fuck sleep! When I die, I’ll be sleeping FOREVER!,” he spat. Chris hated hearing that. “Will you come here, please?…PLEASE?…,” he begged, feeling his eyes start to mist over again. Tripp picked up his room key to leave, then paused to contemplate what Chris asked. “I have to find my wallet.,” he mumbled.

“Tyler…,” he pleaded. Tripp sighed, and put his foot up on the dresser to pull on a sandal. Chris was able to see the tattoo of the tiny blue heart he had on the inside of his ankle. A blue heart for his beloved ‘Blue,’ which was Chris’ nickname.

“I love you! You KNOW I do, Tyler!...It scares me!...,” Chris said, propping himself up on his elbows. Tripp looked sideways at him. “...Because I KNOW it, and we’re so YOUNG!...And you have a career lined up with the Islanders...And I’m gonna be a Ranger!...We can’t fuck this up, Tyler!...” Tripp just continued to stare at him. He couldn’t read the look on his face. “If we’re gonna be lovers,...I can’t hide it!...And I don’t think the AHL - or the NHL for that matter - is going to embrace two bisexual hockey players!...Can we at least give it some time?...I already know I want to be with you forever, baby...”

Tyler finally exploded, coming over to him and grabbing his forearms. “SPARE me, Chris!...Why don’t you roll the fuck OVER and let me loosen up your pucker for the Russian man whore?...Cock has always scratched that little itch deep inside you, that Mary Beth will never reach!...You spoiled, selfish little BITCH!...Come on, you know you WANT it!...Roll over, pretty boy!...”

He was being so rough, that his nails broke the tender skin on the insides of Chris’ arms. His eyes were welling up with tears. He’d never seen Tyler this mad, and it was really scaring him. “Get the fuck OFF me!,” he screamed, kicking and punching at him, in self-defense. Tyler came to his senses suddenly, and looked like he was seeing a ghost.

Wordlessly, he backed away from Chris, and buried his face in his hands. He began to sob. Chris went over and embraced his depressed, fucked-up best friend. “I’m so sorry, baby!,”, Tripp muttered, trembling in his arms. “I just love you so much, it KILLS me!...If I can’t have YOU, I’d rather fucking DIE!...Fuck the NHL!...Fuck the homophobic world!”

Chris cuddled with him on the bed and spoke soothing words to him, until he fell into a peaceful sleep. He told him that they should probably take a break from having sex, and just try to get their shit together. They were moving into the AHL at the beginning of September, and they needed to put that first right now. All they’d be doing, is hurting each other more by trying to be lovers, when Chris still had issues to sort through...He promised Tripp that he would one day, because he could never love anyone the way he loved him...

He slept with Tripp in his arms until 11:30, then woke and carefully unraveled himself from their loving entanglement. Assured that Tripp would be unconscious until at least 3:00, he stepped outside to call Drew, who had Tripp’s wallet. He was so drunk, that he didn’t even realize he dropped it on the beach last night. Drew sounded strange, almost as if he was trying to get a feel for whether or not Chris knew what happened between the two of them...Chris played dumb, knowing that Drew was the type of guy who would be ashamed of himself for their drunken boy sex...He came from a devout Presbyterian family...Even if he loved it, he’d never dare admit to that!

Chris took a shower, then left to meet the guys, and the girls they hooked up with last night at ‘The Clevelander’. As he walked by the pool side, to the beach, his heart began to thump hard in his chest. Mishka...They were nowhere in sight though this afternoon...Filming for their movie was probably on location somewhere else in sunny Miami...He flashed back to Mishka’s soulful, chocolate eyes, and that mischievous smile...How nice it would be to spend the day with him, frolicking in the ocean,...teaching him the word ‘starfish’...

God, he hoped that he’d call!...There was something about that gorgeous Russian that made him tingle all over...And it wasn’t just the sex...Mishka fascinated him in every way...Of course he loved Tripp (and Mary Beth for that matter); but, Mishka excited him! He made him giddy! Maybe it was how playful and funny he was, despite his limited English...They open way that he touched him in public - not sexually - but the way American men wouldn’t dare...Maybe even the intrigue of a whole different culture...

For the next few hours, he tried to force Mishka out of his mind and have fun with his friends. Of course one of the girls took an immediate liking to him...She was pretty cute, but she wasn’t him...

As he laid on his back sun tanning, his mind began to question him, ‘Are you fucking GAY, Chris?...Think about it...Tripp?...Now, Mishka?...I mean look at all this hot pussy around you?...No, you’re NOT looking, ARE you?...’

His straight boy instinct, forced his hand to reach out, and lightly caress the leg of the pretty blond next to him. He opened his eyes and peaked at her through his blue sunglasses. She was smiling. Good boy, Chris! Good boy! 

When he saw that it was almost five o’clock on his cell phone, he was discouraged that his sexy Russian would ever call! He must have checked if he had a signal, and for messages, ten times! He had a full four bars of reception and no voicemail symbols each time he looked. He tried not to care, but he did.

People were starting to pack it in and head to the pool bar for happy hour. As far as Chris was concerned, Mishka would not call. He’d probably taken many short breaks during the afternoon, and could have called to say ‘hi’ during any one of them. Needing to spend a few minutes alone to sulk about it, Chris left the beach ahead of all his friends, to hit the cabana bar for a piña colada. The girl he’d been flirting with all afternoon, Stephanie, offered to come with him; but, he told her not to. He made up some excuse about needing to make a personal call.