It rankled him, the secret he was keeping from Neil. Five years theyād been together, their nothing having changed into something real and solid and unbreakable, but still Andrew kept silent. He justified it to himself by repeating that Neil would never understand. Not this.
Heād rarely been able to indulge his desires while still in college, only being able to slip away unnoticed to seedy sports bars with bright televisions and cheap beer infrequently. Warring feelings of shame and excitement had always plagued him when he indulged himself. When Neil had asked where heād been, his lies tasted sour on his tongue. Sometimes he got the urge to come clean, but he knew that Neil would never forgive this indiscretion and he couldnāt risk losing Neil.
It was easier after heād graduated. Alone in the big city, he could do as he wished in the privacy of his own apartment. Whenever Neil visited Andrew was aware of the secret between them, but Neilās happy smiles and easy pliancy (for him, only ever for him) chased away any thought of telling him. He imagined how hurt and outraged he would be if he ever found that Neil was keeping something of this magnitude from him, but he still couldnāt make himself say anything.
When they eventually ended up on the same team, and living together, Andrew knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. Heād gotten too used to his freedom to indulge whenever he wished; sooner or later, Neil would find out.
Still, he attempted to keep his secret. He tried not to bring it into their home, the place where Neil felt safe and secure. But secrets had a way of getting discovered, and all it took was Andrew taking a stupid risk and Neil coming home unexpectedly early.
Andrew froze on the couch when Neil came in, caught in the act. Neil looked puzzled, still not understanding what he was seeing. He looked back and forth between Andrew and the television several times.
āWhatā Is thatā Andrew, are youā¦ watching baseball?ā he stuttered.
Andrew sighed, knowing there was no reason to deny the truth any longer. He met Neilās eyes unflinchingly. āI like baseball,ā he admitted. āI am a baseball fan.ā
Neil clutched his stomach as if heād been sucker punched and stepped backward, flailing as he ran into the wall. His face was pale, all the colour having drained out of it. āFor how long?ā he asked in a low voice.
Andrew closed his eyes. āForever,ā he said. āSince I was a child.ā
āWere you ever going to tell me?ā
āI didnāt think youād understand.ā
āUnderstand? Andrew, Iā No, I donāt understand! You keep saying you hate sports.ā
Neil moaned, as if in pain. āYouā¦ you like baseball more than exy?ā he said, his voice turning shrill. āAnd you never thought to mention this to me?ā He shook his head. āI canātā¦ I canāt be here right now.ā He turned to leave.
āNeilāā tried Andrew.
Neil waved a hand to silence him. āI need to be alone right now,ā he said, and walked from the room.
Andrew hung his head. Heād known his preference for baseball would come back to bite him. If only Neil would listen. He could come to like baseball, too. Baseball was full of stats and Neil loved stats.
Neil returned suddenly, his face grey and drawn, illuminated only by the glow from the television. āJust tell me the truth so I know how bad it really is,ā he said, grimacing and clearly bracing himself for even more bad news. āAre you a Yankees fan?ā
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