Happiness Is Overrated

This hadn't been how Eric had wanted it.

He didn't want the burning in his chest every time Arthur caught him packing his belongings. He hadn't asked for the agony and defeat that permeated his entire being. He would much rather be celebrating with his former teammates on however many more years the Procrastinators had offered him in his newest contract. He really didn't want to be giving back his 'C', pack his entire life into neat little boxes, and ship them half a country away.

There had been a time when Eric was ecstatic to be in the position he was. He was living his dream; captain of a playoff contending hockey team, living life in a great city. He had even had his happiness off of the ice, even if it was stressful at times. He had friends, and he had people around him that he considered family. His team and his team mates had filled a hole that he had in his heart when he was first drafted. He honestly felt incredibly lucky, and maybe even a little blessed. He hadn't wanted for anything or anyone in years.

But life has a way of moving you past your wants and needs. When Eric hit free agency, the offers came flying in. Of course, the Procrastinators were the first to offer anything; in fact, they had tried to negotiate an extension months before the his contract was up. But Eric knew, even then, that remaining with them was no longer an option. He snatched up an offer fairly quickly, not wanting to spend all sumer mulling over a decision he didn't really want to make.

But Eric didn't want to dwell on that anymore. That's why he had accepted a one year contract with the Reddit Narwhals. While they weren't exactly the greatest team, they were one of the best in their division. But that didn't matter much to Eric. What mattered was that it was far enough away from the city he was currently in, and in a division that wouldn't be playing against the Procrastinators very often. Realistically, he knew that it wasn't the best move for his career. He very well could have played out the rest of his career with the Procrastinators. He could have had a fantastic run, and retired fairly early with a fat check book and a great legacy. Had he remained he would have had it made in the city; he could have settled down on his own, maybe started a family.

But he wanted no part in that future anymore.

Eric had tried to scrape together his life the last few months of the season. He had tried to patch everything up with those that he had wronged; tried to make friends out of enemies. He thought he had been fairly successful, but as the season wound down and they were eliminated from the playoffs in the second round, he knew he was drowning.

Several of his team mates had gone out of their way to keep an eye on him, knowing that he would be taking their losses the hardest. They kept him busy; taking him out for lunch, going golfing and just generally doing things. Ash, one of their alternate captains and arguably one of the best forwards in the league, was constantly keeping tabs on Eric; he didn't want to see him go through another break down like he had a couple seasons prior.

It had been a breakdown that had almost ended his career, and his life. He didn't want to go on any more drinking and coke binges. He didn't want to wake up in strange places or with strange people in his bed. Eric didn't ever want to relive that night in the E.R, or the subsequent two week stint in a 'rehabilitation retreat', which had been nothing more than a glorified suicide watch. It made him feel like complete shit, knowing that his was making his friends and team mates worry about him when they had their own lives to worry about.

“Hey, man.” Ash's voice brought Eric back to his senses. He had been standing in his living room, surrounded by boxes he had just wrapped with tape and labelled. “Are these the last ones?”

“Yeah...” Eric managed to say, looking down at his watch and wondering exactly how long he had been stuck in his thoughts.

He knew that Ash could sense his apprehension, which is why Ash simply worked around him and began lugging the boxes down to the moving truck that was parked out in the street. Even as Eric began to pick up boxes and help, Ash merely shook his head and motioned for Eric to set them down. Ash knew what was going on in Eric's head better than he did. Eric put the box back on the floor and sighed, resting his head in his hands as he sat on the coffee table.

He looked up, taking in just how empty the room felt devoid of his personal belongings. He could make out where pictures had hung on the wall, and where furniture had once sat on the floor. It felt so unnatural seeing everything so empty. The whole apartment felt lifeless and cold, even with all of Arthur's things still strewn about. Maybe that was what was making Eric's stomach churn as he listened to Ash talk with Arthur on their front stoop; without Eric, their apartment was no longer a home.

As Eric heard Ash and Arthur coming up the stairs, his heart jumped. He quickly jumped from his seat and nearly sprinted through the apartment to seek solitude on the back porch. With all of these feelings swimming through him, Eric knew he was in no shape to face Arthur. Eric didn't know if he would ever be able to face him again; the man whom he loved with all of his being, and whom he hated with more passion than he had ever had.

Over the last 8 years, Eric had really tried to work things out with Arthur. They had lived together since rookie year, spending nearly every waking moment together; even during the off season. At first it had never really occurred to Eric that he might have been in love with Arthur; they were just simply room mates and team mates back then. They partied together occasionally, bringing girls back to their shared apartment. He didn't realize until their third year together that Eric even began to notice that the motions that he was going through every day felt wrong.

Even sitting on the back porch five years later, the thought of the first time he felt Arthur's touch gave him chills. He felt his stomach drop out as he envisioned the passionate stare that Arthur had given him from across the dressing room. It had been a strange combination of a livid stare and bed room eyes. Eric never had a chance in hell to fend him off that night; Arthur had simply taken what he wanted, pinning him against his cubby and giving him what might have been the most wanton and erotic kiss he had ever experienced. Eric had just simply gawked at him as Arthur ran his calloused hand up under his jersey, exposing his chest to the cold air. He could still hear Arthur croon 'I'm done playing games, Captain.'. Eric didn't want to admit it, but just thinking about it made him need to adjust his pants.

That night had been the start of many tumultuous years of trying to find the balance between being lovers and team mates.In hindsight, Eric realized that he had asked far too much of Arthur. Eric had wanted nothing more than to settle down with Arthur and spend the rest of his days with him. But Arthur was too free-spirited; he wanted the parties, and the sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll that inevitably followed winning in professional sports. Eric thought he had been understanding in his toleration of Arthur's wiles, and welcomed any sort of affection he threw Eric's way. He had found a small piece of happiness, even if it came at a hefty price. For years, Eric turned a blind eye to Arthur's indiscretions, and tried not to let it get to him.

After years of living his life that way, Eric finally began to understand that he really wasn't happy. Not in the slightest.

It had taken Arthur getting injured and Eric getting suspended for 10 games for him to even confront Arthur about anything. He remembered how rough those conversations had been, especially immediately after the incident. Eric remembered very vividly that very night, when he had found Arthur drinking on the back porch with a concussion after the game. Eric hated that it made him mad, even after all this time. But it did. It made him livid. It made him so full of rage that he felt his hands ball up into fists. It was the that very night that Eric attributed the beginning of the end for him.

“If you didn't want me to fall in love with you, then you should have kept your god damn hands to yourself, you selfish prick!”

He could remember those words clearer than any he had ever said. Eric had meant those words, and still retained their sentiment. He had been a fool to fall in love with someone who wasn't ready or willing to love him back wholly and completely. He hadn't anticipated having to jump through hoops for attention or pretend that he was alright with Arthur's actions. He didn't know how much watching Arthur bring strange men and women home would destroy him. And her certainly hadn't thought about how confront Arthur about the situation would drive them even further apart.

Eric was almost completely lost in nostalgia, but the creaking of the deck shook him back to reality. He sighed heavily, not need to turn to look in the door way to know who was standing there. Eric could smell Arthur's scent; a strange blend of cigar smoke and his own musk. He could hear Arthur flick away the ashes of his cigarillo, and could envision his mouth puckering around it as he took a deep drag.

“You all packed up, then?” Arthur asked, his voice making the hair stand up on Eric's forearms.

Eric nodded, fighting with himself as he leaned against the railing. He had to do everything within his power to not just take Arthur in his arms and kiss him with the intensity of the sun. Even as Arthur walked up beside him, shaking his long hair out of his eyes as he rested his back against the railing, Eric had to scoot just a few more inches away from him, out of fear that he might either try to ravage him right then and there, or maybe toss him over the edge and try to make it look like an unfortunate accident.

“The apartment looks so empty without all your shit in it.” Arthur remarked, his voice reflecting almost no emotion. Eric couldn't believe how nonchalant Arthur could be, after everything that had transpired. “It's gonna be weird without all of your knick knacks and tchotchkes all over the fuckin' place.”

“Yeah...” Eric managed to vocalize. His voice was rasp and it was painfully obvious that he was trying to hold back a torrent of emotions. He wanted to say more, but his mind wouldn't settle down enough for coherent words to come out of his mouth.

There was an awkward silence between them. Even though the hum of city traffic and the chirping of birds filled the air, Eric didn't hear it. It was if they had managed to transcend to a different part of time and space, completely apart from anything else in the world.

“You already have a place set up?” Arthur asked, turning to look out at the city street below.

“Just something small.” Eric sighed. “A little loft on the north side of town.”

“Mon Capitane going out all on his own?” Arthur chuckled. “That'll be a sight to see.”

“I had a couple offers from some of the guys to share a place,” Eric began, swallowing hard in realization. “But I really need the space. I need some time to just...”

He paused, feeling Arthur's eyes on him. Eric would be damned if he let Arthur see how much pain he was in.

“I need to sort everything out.”

“And it's only a year.” Arthur shrugged.

“Yeah. I don't want to get too attached to anything, just in case.”

“Well, if you need any help finishing shit up before you go; let me know.” Arthur flicked the remainder of his cigarillo over the edge of the balcony and turned on his heel to return to the apartment.

“Arthur.” Eric was already cursing himself as his name left his lips. Why did he have to do shit like this? “Wait.”

“Yeah, man?” Arthur turned, his eyebrows raised.

“My flight doesn't leave until tomorrow morning.” Eric could barely look at him. His eyes kept switching between looking at Arthur's face and the floor. “Do you think, maybe... You'd want to go out or something tonight? Who knows when I'll be back in town...”

Arthur sighed, leaning against the door frame. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to carefully chose his words.

“I'd like to; I really would.” Arthur began. His voice was soft, but the spurn behind the words was obvious. “But I can't. Jack is gonna be coming over this evening and checking out the place. I just... I can't.”

Eric shrank. It was painfully obvious how desperate he was being, and it made him look like a completely jack ass when contrasted against Arthur's reaction. He hadn't anticipated that Arthur was already over him by leaps and bounds. He hadn't thought that he would be filling that Eric-shapped hole in his life so quickly.

“It's all gravy.” Eric tried to say with a forced smile. It was painful, but at the same time he was relieved. He would have made an ass out of himself for sure. “I wouldn't want to make you out to be a dick or anything.”

“We'll have to figure something out if we have some down time during the season.” Arthur said, putting on face. “You won't be that far away. And hell, I'm sure we can spend a little bit of time together after games and shit.”

Eric nodded. He couldn't believe it; he didn't want to believe it. This had to be some sort of sick nightmare that Eric was about to wake up from. But he knew it wasn't. He knew that this is what he had done. This is what is selfishness had caused.

And as Arthur walked out of view, Eric felt as if he had walked out of his life.