#bryce matthews

[parrishsrubberplant]

“I didn’t know Bryce Marcus was gay,” Rafe says quietly.

“What?” Jared looks around and nearly drops a barbel on his foot. Bryce has gone off into a corner to sulk again which is--great. Fine. Totally fine. Jared doesn’t notice him at all, ever, except to notice that he’s gone.

“Do you have another explanation for all of this?” Rafe asks, still quiet.

“You think he’s flirting,” Jared says.

“You don’t?” Rafe sets his weights down and picks up a heavier set.

Jared’s mind is splintering. Because, no, honestly, he hadn’t. Forget the fact that summer training is the last place--literally the last--he would look for a date. Now that he considers it, though...

“Just a theory,” Rafe says, like he can see the way Jared’s hands have started to shake.

Okay, they have started to shake. He sets the weights down hastily before anyone else can notice. And, Bryce is back for another attempt. “Here,” he says, and reaches across Jared. “Hold it like this.”

Jared copies him and lifts. He’s not going to lie: the stretch feels better immediately. When he lowers the weight Jared says, “Are you hitting on me?”

Bryce’s face goes flat. So that’s what real anger looks like on him, and not the pretend pissy stuff. He’s scary. “Do the other side the same way,” Bryce says.

He’s calming himself down. Jared watches him consciously relax the fingers of his hands and take short little breaths in and out through his nose and mouth.

Jared has to say something. He lifts the barbel to shoulder height and holds it. “I’m gay,” he says, staring straight ahead at the far wall.

Bryce doesn’t react.

Rafe doesn’t either. But Jared was already out to Rafe.

“Okay,” Bryce says.

Jared racks his weights. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Bryce smiles over his shoulder at him and goes off to tell someone else they’re doing it wrong. And, okay. All right. Jared has just about decided that he doesn’t need an answer.

Later, Rafe looks at him, looks away, and laughs. “You get your answer, then?”

Jared scrubs his hand through his hair. “He’s still really annoying,” he mutters sulkily. And adds, in the privacy of his own head, but he’s really hot, too.

[parrishsrubberplant]

Bryce appears as Jared is tying his shoes. Jared ignores him. He can’t ignore the way his heart starts beating in his throat. He’s not even attractive, he tells himself sternly. He’s an asshole. Jared tightens the knot of his laces. There’s a muscular calf directly in his line of vision.

Don’t lie, he tells himself.

Jared straightens. 

“Do you need a ride home?” Bryce asks.

Jared looks around to see if anyone has heard. They’re dressing, laughing, talking. Rafe is watching, of course, but Rafe turns away with a weird quirk of his mouth. Jared is going to have words with him later.

“Are you even allowed to drive?”

Bryce glares.

“Not an answer,” Jared says, hefting his bag onto his shoulder and making for the door.

Bryce follows him. His bag knocks into Jared, pushing him out through the door.

“How do you know I didn’t drive myself?” Jared asks in the hallway.

“You got a ride with Sanchez,” Bryce says. “You always do.” He looks away like he has already said too much.

“And you think I’m just going to ditch him?” Jared asks.

Bryce lifts his eyebrows and smirks. “Aren’t you?”

Yes, Jared admits to himself. Yes, I am. “I’m considering it,” he says. He pulls out his phone. “Getting another ride see you tomorrow,” he sends to Rafe. He’s not going to say it’s Bryce. Firstly, Rafe definitely already knows. Secondly--well.

Bryce presses the button his key fob and the car chirps. He unlocks it and wedges his bag into the trunk. He tugs at the strap on Jared’s shoulder. “Come on.” Jared lets Bryce pull the bag off him, lets him dump it in the tiny space.

“You haven’t even got a trunk,” Jared says. “How do you fit groceries in this thing?” Then he remembers he’s talking to the Flames’ franchise player, and goes red. Bryce probably has a personal chef or some shit. He’s not driving to Costco to buy a three-pack of ketchup.

“Peapod,” Bryce says cheerfully, and gets in the driver’s seat. Jared gets in the other side. Whoever Bryce last had in this car was tiny--the passenger seat is pulled almost all the way up. Jared fumbles on the side of the seat for some kind of lever, finds it, and pushes the seat back so his knees aren’t pushed up under his chin anymore.

Bryce starts the car. It purrs to life in an expensive way. They pull out of the parking lot in silence. 

Jared looks at the shiny center console. “Which one’s the radio?”

Bryce presses his thumb down on the steering wheel. “...you’re on CarTalk,” a voice says in a fruity Boston accent.

Jared laughs. He probably laugh harder than this warrants, but he’s nervous, and the release of tension feels amazing. “What the fuck,” he gasps out. “You live in Calgary.”

Bryce turns the radio off and glares. “Good taste is universal,” he says.

“The fuck,” Jared mutters softly. He tries a dial, and warm air blasts in his face. He tries another dial. “--transmission. Does it make this noise: cha-chukka-chukka, cha-chukka-chukka--” Jared twists the dial. French radio. BBC World Service. Ah. Pop music.

He glances at Bryce, then away. Bryce is--actually following traffic laws, which Jared did not expect. He’s not a bad driver, on the aggressive side of fast, but he has the car for it, and people get out of his way.

“You like it?” Bryce asks.

“Your car? I think it’s an expensive piece of--” Jared breaks off. He was about to call the car trash. “Junk,” he finishes.

“And yet, you came for a ride,” Bryce says, pulls into the left lane, and speeds up.

“True,” Jared says. He’s already wondering why, when there’s still this weird tension. Very weird tension. He can smell Bryce, this close in the car, and he smells like bodywash and cologne. The car purrs.

Jared wants to set his teeth right where Bryce’s neck meets his shoulder. It’s definitely a problem. He sets his teeth. Asshole, he reminds himself. This guy is an asshole. Then, because he tries to be honest with himself: You like it.

[calmbeforethestormhq-blog]

BRYCE NASH MATTHEWS;

✧ THE FACADE ✧

FACECLAIM: Nick Robinson

DOB: June 1st, 1997 (23)

OCCUPATION: Junior @ NYU 

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married to Brie (Torres) Matthews.

IMPORTANT CHARACTER NOTES:

- He and Brie eloped during spring break his freshman year of college. 

- Brie found out she was pregnant not long after they were married and they had a daughter they named Chloe.

- He developed a rather serious alcohol problem which only got worse as time passed, but eventually got the help he needed. Though, it was a long process and he slowed down two semesters. 

- He’s now closer to his family due to this period in his life.

THIS CHARACTER IS PLAYED BY: KAREN