This is not a game

The Age of Glory: Visit

In the morning, the events of the prior night feel like a dream. Eli chuckles darkly into the mirror. This is now a recurring theme in his life. To his defense, Silvester the Team Captain Blade makes no mention of their late-night call. Eli watches him outline the strategy for today's training session at the board. Eli thinks of Silver's silver voice on the phone: his praise, the way he gently but surely lead him out of the maze of despair Eli so often finds himself in. Silvester catches his gaze, raises an eyebrow briefly, then continues outlining the plan.

A week later, Eli calls again.

This time, Silver has him doing push-ups until Eli, nearly crying from the ache in his abused muscles, collapses face-first onto the carpet for the fifth time. 

This time, the pain lingers for three days, grounding him with every move, which is pretty perfect, except... the contrast between care during their calls and indifference outside of them leaves Eli in a constant state of suspension. And then there are also their ongoing games with SilverAge — who is far more relaxed and warm than either the team captain or the commanding voice on the phone. Between these three versions of reality, Eli feels no solid ground beneath his feet. He rarely feels grounded anyway, but this is reaching new levels of absurdity. He no longer knows who he's in love with — Silver, the team captain, or the voice guiding him step by step down the road of blissful pain.

The third time, he chooses to act, not call. It's not so much a matter of resolve as it is an act of desperation: he yearns to find relief from this tripartite confusion. He arrives at the address handed to him weeks ago on the turquoise square of paper. Silvester opens the door barefoot, in soft pants and an equally soft-looking unbuttoned shirt over a plain white T-shirt. A stark contrast to the polished, stylish figure of himself he flashed around just a few hours ago, in the team's headquarters.

"Eli?" The confusion lasts only a couple of seconds before the captain steps back and gestures for him to come in.

Eli tears his gaze away from the collar of Silvester's shirt clinging to his body, so he can take off his shoes and take in his surroundings. Unlike Eli's small studio, Silver's apartment is impressive in both its design and size. Clean lines, calm colors, uncluttered surfaces... Eli, in his worn-out hoodie and faded jeans, feels completely out of place. The owner of all this magnificence leaves him on the gray leather couch and heads off to rustle around in the kitchen behind him. Eli sits, staring at the gentle whorls of the wood grain on the coffee table in front of him. He thinks about leaving this perfect place, lest he mar it with his unworthy presence. He is immediately angry at himself at the thought: why does he hesitate so much on every move?! He was invited here. Silver has helped him before. Even now, he let him into his home without a question. So why is Eli once again frozen in fear and awkwardness? Ridiculous!

The captain returns with two cups: coffee for himself and hot chocolate for Eli. On the saucer — like something out of a cafe — there are a couple of marshmallows and a tiny teaspoon. This refined, almost aristocratic scene, straight out of a "how to entertain guests if you're an English nobleman" brochure, feels so mismatched with the reason for his visit that Eli once again wants to laugh hysterically, make his excuses, and bolt before he screws everything up.

"Relax," Silver's voice carries a smile, and when Eli looks up, he sees that same smile on Silver's face — teasing but not mocking. "I don't bite."

Eli raises an eyebrow but then blushes, dropping his gaze back to his cup when Silver thoughtfully adds, "At least, not without a request."

Silver chuckles quietly. Eli takes a sip of his hot chocolate and immediately burns his tongue. He sets the treacherous cup back on the table and looks up again. Silver is sipping his coffee, not rushing him, even though Eli hasn't said a word since he arrived. There aren't many reasons for him being here. Silver knows. He has to know. That doesn't make it any easier to voice his request aloud.