“Yeah.” He finished with the last of the dishes and put them away. “Even if I do take the offer, I know she’s not going to move back, she told me when I decided to come here that this was a permanent move for her. I know she’s glad to have my parents around to help out with the kids, and she wouldn’t want to uproot them again.”
Micah just nodded, unsure what to say.
Daniel took his hand and tugged him along into the living room. “Micah, I—I guess I need to ask. Is this it? If I take the deal, are we—are we over?”
Micah opened his mouth, intending to say of course not—he felt like he did when he was thirteen, when Danny sat in his living room and told him my parents are moving us to Chicago so I can play hockey, but it’s okay. We’ll still be best friends, Micah.
But they hadn’t stayed best friends. Time and distance did what time and distance do, and made them strangers. Of course, they weren’t thirteen anymore, and staying in touch wasn’t that hard. Atlanta wasn’t that far. Things could be worse, but they could definitely be better. He’d worried about this, and it was happening, but there was nothing to be done now but face it and move on.
“I’m not gonna just give up on us,” Micah said, slowly. He gave Daniel a searching look. “I love my job, Daniel. It’s something that I’ve worked hard for, and I know you get that—hell, you probably get that more than anyone else I’ve ever met, let alone dated.”
Daniel nodded. “Sure.”
“I beat out thousands of applicants just for an interview. This is one of those jobs you dream about having and never think you’re gonna get. Just like, hey, playing hockey and winning the Stanley Cup.”
Daniel smiled, but briefly. “Right. The Dolphin Cup.”
“But there aren’t a lot of jobs for me outside of here,” Micah said. “Or, maybe there are, but this one is the one I’ve wanted since we were kids.”
“Micah, hey,” Daniel said gently, squeezing his hand. “I’m not asking you to move. I wouldn’t do that. I know how important your job is to you.”
Micah nodded. “I know you do. And I don’t love the idea of a long-distance relationship, but I love you. I’m not good with uncertainty and you know that, but I’m definitely not good with losing you, so. I guess I’ll rack up some frequent flyer miles, if I have to.”
Daniel snorted. “Frequent flyer miles.”
“Shut up.” Micah laughed a bit. “I’m just trying to be honest, okay?”
“Yeah.” Daniel nodded. “I know. And I appreciate it. It helps to know that you’re not going to just end things if I decide to take the offer. But there’s another option, too.”
“You should lead with that one, next time,” Micah said, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Honestly.”
“Sorry,” Daniel said, a little sheepish. “I could retire.”
Blinking, Micah stared at him. “Like, be done playing?”
“Yeah, that’s what retire means, aren’t you the one with all the degrees?”
Micah scowled, but he waved a hand. “You’re in your thirties.”
“That’s when most players retire,” Daniel pointed out. “I wasn’t going to play that much longer here, so it’s a few years ahead of schedule, but...it means I don’t have to move.”
Micah took Daniel’s hand in his. “It also means you don’t get to do what you love. And I meant it, before, when I told you that you shouldn’t give up your dream job for anyone else—even me. I promise I will find a way to make it work, okay? I won’t leave you, and I won’t let you give up hockey for me, this isn’t a movie.”
“I know, but listen, maybe I don’t have to give it up. I could work with the team, you know. They offered me a position on the coaching staff. Besides, I was going to have to find something to do here when I retired, anyway.” Daniel would, of course, never be happy just surfing and playing with his dogs all the time.
Micah studied him. “Would you want to do that, though? Honestly, I’m not really a huge Thunder fan anymore. I kind of hate them. Forever. First they get you as a player and don’t win, and then they have the gall to not sign you?”
Daniel’s eyes sparkled. “I kind of love that you just said that, even if I should really point out that it’s not personal.”
“Being a sports fan means having irrational opinions and hating teams just because I want to,” he informed Daniel. “So, they’d let you take over coaching the Thunder? I bet you’d be better at it than the current guy.”
“Very loyal hockey-boyfriend of you to say so,” Daniel said. “I wouldn’t be head coach, no. Not right off the bat, anyway. I’d be assisting.” He paused, then sighed softly. “To be honest, I haven’t actually read all the particulars yet. Rationally, I know what a huge opportunity it would be to coach in the NHL, but this season has been such a downer, working with the Thunder in any capacity might be tainted for me now.”
“Okay. What about coaching somewhere else, like the team we went to see? The Strikers or one of the other teams in that age group? That Jake guy has an epic man-crush on you.” Micah held up a hand. “No shame, I can deal with the hetero-bros, but you’re so great with the Rumbles and hey, maybe if the Thunder had better development they’d have better seasons? Is that how it works?”
Daniel tugged him forward and kissed him soundly. “No, but I love you for suggesting it. That’s also an idea. It really comes down to whether I want to keep playing, or head off into the great unknown of what’s next.”
“Well.” Micah reached up to play with his hair. “That’s a decision only you can make. But either way, you’re not going to lose me. We’ll make it work. I’m starting to realize that maybe uncertainty isn’t a deal breaker, it’s just...how it is, whether you play hockey or not. All you can do is try? Shoot for the net? Some kind of hockey metaphor? Help me out here.”
“I don’t need to,” Daniel said, and his voice was suspiciously choked. “You’re doing great. Thank you, Micah. It means a lot to me that you’re not giving up on me.”
“Never. I lost you once, and I’m not doing it again. So. Maybe my preference isn’t long distance, but preference is definitely you being happy, and I can work with that.” Micah smiled. He felt...good. It would be hard not to have Daniel nearby, but he wasn’t thirteen anymore. He had money, and vacation time, and a reliable car. There was no reason he had to give up just because it wasn’t easy—when had either of them done that, ever? “We’re both pretty tenacious and determined, so. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. Just...do what’s best for you, okay?”