Work Text:
September 29th (vs. Florida Panthers)
The tiki bar around the corner from the arena is about as crowded as you'd expect for a Monday night. Aside from some dudes in Cowboys jerseys playing shuffleboard in the back and a few couples on two-tops near the doors, the Stars have the place to themselves.
They have a game tomorrow, so Jamie figures they're not gonna make much of a night of it right up until Tyler discovers that they serve a drink called a Zombie.
"Fucking right," Tyler shouts, up in Jamie's face for no reason. The music's not that loud.
"What's in it?"
The drink menu doesn't list ingredients, just says it's the strongest drink on the menu. It also says limit 2 per customer, so of course when Jamie looks up at him, Tyler's got one in each hand.
"Is one of those for me?" Jamie asks.
Tyler grins. "Fuck no!"
"You should take it easy," Jamie says. He looks down at the menu again. "It says you can only have two of those all night."
"It's a Zombie, Chubbs!" Tyler says. He holds up the one in his right hand, red liquid sloshing over over the rim. "Look, there's even an umbrella!"
Jamie shakes his head, but he can't help smiling later when Tyler takes the little orange umbrella out of one of his drinks and tucks it behind Jamie's ear. "Looks good on you," Tyler says, and he punches Jamie in the shoulder before bouncing away to go dance up on Val and some of the rookies.
Half an hour after that, Jamie's still nursing a whiskey soda and trying to explain the PK strategy to a couple of the prospects when Tyler comes back around.
"Hey, I need you," Tyler says, grabbing Jamie's arm and pulling him up to the bar. "This is Sean." The bartender looks up from where he's rinsing out like half a dozen tiki-themed mugs, and nods. "He says they do a thing where they soak pineapple slices in rum for like a year to make, uh, what was it?"
Sean the Bartender says something that Jamie can't hear over the music, but Tyler nods and shouts, "Yeah! That!"
"So?" Jamie shouts back.
"So? So?" Tyler says and he's got a kind of crazy, excited look in his eyes that Jamie associates with making bad choices. "He said we can have the pineapple slices for free!"
Jamie shakes his head, but Tyler looks back at Sean the Bartender and gives him a double-thumbs-up.
"I can pay for things," Jamie says, and Tyler laughs.
"Not the point, man!"
"Here you go," Sean the Bartender shouts, and he raises his eyebrows at Tyler, like, You guys must be crazy. He hands over a little plastic water cup with a brownish-yellow pineapple ring in it and Tyler grabs it too fast, ends waving it under Jamie's nose.
"That smells awful," Jamie says.
"It'll be awesome," Tyler says. "It's like a jello shot but it's like, healthy for you and shit." He grabs the ring out of the cup and pulls it in two, pushing half of it towards Jamie's face until Jamie's forced to take it from him or end up with it like, shoved up his nose. "On three," Tyler says, but he forgets to do the countdown out loud and pops his half in his mouth after like, a second.
Jamie rolls his eyes, but thinks to himself, What can it hurt?
He's expecting it to taste, well, like pineapple, but instead it just tastes like burning.
Jamie watches as Tyler high fives the bartender, everything that Jamie's not directly looking at kind of blurring and spinning at the edges. The whole bar is lit with fake tiki torches and blue-green christmas tree lights and the effect makes everything seem a little unreal.
"Whoa," Tyler says. "That was awesome!"
Jamie doesn't really remember a lot of what happens next.
September 30th (vs. Tampa Bay Lightning)
Jamie wakes up in his own bed -- good so far -- with Tyler, naked and plastered all along his back. Uh?
He thinks for a minute that maybe Tyler just fell into the wrong bed last night. He's seen the guys prank Tyler enough to know that Tyler sleeps naked, but that doesn't explain why Jamie is naked, too. Jamie doesn't sleep naked -- mostly because of years of getting pranked by hockey players early in the morning. Not everybody wants to be in ESPN's Body Issue, is all he's saying.
Also, he doesn't really think Tyler is here on accident. The room reeks and there's something like, crusted to Jamie's stomach that he probably doesn't want to examine too hard right now. So, uh, probably he had sex with Tyler last night.
He thinks back as far as he can, gets a flash of putting his hand on Tyler's leg, Tyler looking over at him, and then -- Uh. Well.
He bumps that probably up to a definitely.
He should get up. He should absolutely get up, and take an aspirin and drink like a gallon of Gatorade. They have a game tonight. Pre-season, yeah, but still. He shouldn't have let things get out of hand yesterday.
Well, he thinks, too late now.
When Jamie stretches his toes out a little he can feel a bunched up wad of fabric that's probably his underwear jammed down near the foot of the bed. He tries to hook his big toe in it to kind of shimmy it up the bed without waking Tyler up, but instead his foot does that thing it does sometimes where it kicks out of its own accord.
"Fuck," Tyler says, shifting and groaning a little. "Time is it?"
Jamie gives up on the underwear, and on not waking Tyler, obviously. He picks up his phone from his bedside table. He doesn't remember plugging it in last night, but some things are the kind of habits you do no matter what, he guesses. "Uh, 9:30," he says.
"Fuuuuuck," Tyler says again, heartfelt. He buries his face between Jamie's shoulder blades for a second, nose cold and a little damp, like a dog's. "Wait, did you say 9:30? Shit, shit."
Tyler falls out of bed, rummages through their combined pile of crumpled gameday suits and pulls on his pants without finding his underwear.
"Sorry," he says. "I'm so, so, sorry, it's just that I have to let the dogs out and I promised Val I'd go to his thing and I'm already late."
"Uh," Jamie says. "It's OK?"
Tyler stands near the side of the bed, shirtless, looking sad. Jamie sits up and says it's fine again, rubs a little at his eyes to get the crusties off.
Tyler says, "I'd stay. I would totally stay. But I really gotta go."
He leans forward, put his hand on the side of Jamie's face, and kisses Jamie on the mouth. In Jamie's non-expert opinion, it's a smooth move.
"I gotta go," Tyler says, repeating himself. Somehow it's more endearing than it is annoying, just like most things Tyler does. "Next time we'll do breakfast."
He kisses Jamie, again, and then he's gone.
That was weird, Jamie thinks. Nice. But weird.
October 1st (@tseguinofficial: Can't wait to see @jamiebenn14 go on his first roller coaster at six flags tonight)
"Hey Chubbs," Tyler says. "What the fuck does this man mean you've never been on a roller coaster?"
Jamie blinks at Tyler, confused.
"He probably means I've never been on a roller coaster? Because I haven't."
Tyler stares at Jamie for a minute like he's from a different planet. Jamie doesn't feel like it's all that weird -- it wasn't something they really did back home, the closest theme park to where they grew up was all the way across the border.
"Shit," Tyler says, "We gotta fix that, like, yesterday."
"Uhh," Jamie says. "Sure?"
"Tonight," Tyler says, and points at Jamie. Jamie looks over at Jordie, who looks guilty. Well, at least Jamie knows who ratted him out.
They do a whole PR we-have-the-best-fans-in-the-world! thing in front of the carousel, Jamie's palms sweating before and after they hand him a microphone, and then Tyler grabs him by the wrist and drags him into line for a roller coaster called New Texas Giant. The sign says something about it being the tallest something-or-other in the world and Jamie gets a little dizzy just looking up at it.
"Hey," Tyler says. "You're too quiet." He knocks his shoulder into Jamie's at maybe half his normal strength, grins when Jamie looks at him.
"What?" Jamie asks, because it's so loud. It cannot possibly be too quiet. There are like, a million people around -- Stars and fans and PR staff everywhere. There's got to be a hundred people in line for this ride alone.
"Make some noise," Tyler says. "I like to know where you are."
"OK," Jamie says, but he doesn't really have anything else to add.
Jamie listens to Tyler and Fiddler chirp each other over their haircuts, says "uh-huh" and "yep" in the right places, shuffles ahead when the line moves. Before he knows it, they're at the front of the line and then they're getting into the ride and -- uh. It's not that Jamie is scared, he just doesn't really like heights.
The ride attendants come by, check that everybody's strapped in, say something about -- arms and legs inside the ride, Jamie can't really understand them over the crappy speakers. Then there's this odd thunk sound and a jolt forward and Jamie's really, really not scared because it's totally fine.
Tyler reaches over and grabs Jamie's hand when the ride starts moving for real, and it's nice, even if he lets go like a second later so Jamie can grab onto the front rail for dear life.
The ride is -- fine. Jamie successfully doesn't puke, but he doesn't think it's a thing he's gonna want to do a lot of. Tyler, though, wants to go on every single ride. All he really has to do is smile, sign some jerseys, and everybody keeps letting him cut in front of them in line, so that's what they do.
Jamie draws the line at the Superman ride, so Tyler makes Jamie hold his keys and his sunglasses and his flip-flops, but after that Tyler lets Jamie drag him away from the roller coasters towards the midway. Jamie does OK on some of the games, shoots enough of the targets at one that he wins a shiny rayon My Little Pony doll that he gives to Tyler, who cracks up laughing so hard Jamie starts to worry that he can't breathe.
On the way out, Tyler gives it to a little girl who looks at him with big, awed eyes.
"I'm working on my image with the ladies," Tyler says, and winks.
Jamie says, "I don't think that move works on everyone."
"Is it working on you?" Tyler asks.
"No," Jamie says, and Tyler tries to trip him. He just misses running into a cart selling Dippin' Dots.
They sign about a million more jerseys in the parking lot, and then since Tyler drove them there straight from practice, Jamie just gets back into his truck without asking. Tyler cranks up the radio on the drive back, so they don't really talk. When he pulls up the driveway of Jamie's house, he puts the car into park and kills the engine, cutting Taylor Swift off suddenly and then it's real quiet.
"Thanks," Jamie says, and he reaches for the door handle, but doesn't get out right away.
"Hey, c'mere," Tyler says, putting his hand on Jamie's leg, and leaning in.
Tyler said next time, but Jamie didn't really think he meant, like -- that there would be a next time. He definitely didn't think they would end up, like, making out in Tyler's truck, but here they are.
"Fuck, you're hot," Tyler says, biting at Jamie's neck, reaching for the hem of Jamie's polo.
"Do, uh," Jamie asks, "Do you want to come in?"
Tyler rests his forehead on Jamie's shoulder, panting a little, says, "Yeah." He doesn't really move to get out, though. "I mean, I think what I really want is to do you right here. But we should probably go inside. Because we have neighbors."
Jamie says, "Yeah. The hedges are mostly decorative."
Tyler laughs and then Jamie laughs and together they stumble inside, laughing.
October 14th (@ Columbus Blue Jackets)
"Anyone need a beer?" Tyler drums his hands against the table hard enough that the empties all rattle against each other really loud. "This round's on me."
Everyone pretty much says yes all at once, except Jamie. Tyler doesn't even give him shit for it, just nods and says, "Your loss, bro."
Jamie was kind of waiting around to see if Tyler wanted to head back together. They've been messing around more this last couple week than not, but that doesn't mean Jamie's like, expecting anything. Tyler's had steady-ish hook-ups before -- Jamie's even met some of them -- and even though they seemed pretty cool, Tyler was still picking up like crazy when they were on the road. So Jamie's not surprised when Tyler only makes it halfway to the bar before he starts talking a cute redhead in a crop-top and cutoffs.
The redhead smiles, puts her hand on Tyler's arm, and Jamie thinks, Well alright, that's it.
Jamie gets up from the table to make his excuses and go back to the hotel. If he's lucky he'll have enough energy to go over some game tape, but he knows he's probably just going to pass out the minute he gets back to his room.
"Hey," Jamie says, pulling at Jordie's jacket sleeve to get his attention. "I'm taking off."
Jamie starts to leave, but stops when he feels a hand rest at the small of his back. "Hey babe," Tyler says, suddenly close, voice loud and right in Jamie's ear. "Give me a hand?"
Jamie looks back over his shoulder, confused. The redhead is nowhere to be seen.
"The fuck is this?" Jordie says to Tyler. "She was totally into your dick, man. Segs, Segs, Segie, my man, you were my hero. You were the chosen one. You turn the fuck around and go after that right now."
Jordie shoves at Tyler, but Tyler clings on to Jamie and doesn't budge.
"Nah, man," Tyler says. He doesn't look at Jamie in this really, like, deliberate way, but none of the other guys are saying anything, so maybe it only seems weird to Jamie. "She was alright, but -- I'm just not feeling it tonight."
Tyler leans really far into Jamie's space, says in his ear, "Help me carry, eh?"
Jamie nods and follows Tyler to the bar and back, helps him hand out beers to the table. They run out of bottles before Tyler gets one, and when Jamie looks over, he yawns big, stretching his arms tall enough that his shirt rides up a little in front.
"I'm gonna head back to the hotel and crash," Tyler says. He slaps Eaks on the back hard and winks, exaggerated. "You have fun, alright? Don't do nothing I wouldn't do."
"Shit," Eaks says. "What's left that you haven't already?"
Tyler snaps off a sloppy military salute with just his middle finger before turning away from the guys and catching Jamie's eye. "Split a cab?" he asks, casual. "You're heading back, right?"
Jamie's mouth goes dry, enough that he has to swallow before his voice starts working again.
"Uh, sure."
Tyler smiles at him, all teeth, big and goofy. He slips an arm around Jamie's waist when they're waiting at the cab stand and spends the drive back whispering some really, really filthy things in Jamie's ear about what he wants to do when they get to his room.
Jamie never does get around to watching game tape.
October 21st (vs. Vancouver Canucks)
"Mornin', babe," Tyler says, stumbling into the kitchen. He's wearing nothing but a pair of Jamie's sweats. Jamie knows they're his, even though Tyler keeps a spare set here, because they're at least three sizes too big for Tyler -- Jamie's had them since Kelowna and they're way too loose even on him anymore.
Tyler keeps tugging at his hair, which is standing straight up in places, and licking his lips, which look red and chapped. He looks exactly like someone spent last night messing him up.
Jamie realizes he's staring, and has to force himself to look away. He can feel the back of his neck getting hot. He has a carton of eggs in his hand that he's gripping too tight, and he sets it down the counter before he breaks them all or something.
"You makin' breakfast?" Tyler asks.
Jamie figures that with the eggs and all, it's pretty obvious. He mumbles, "Yeah," anyway.
"Cool," Tyler says, and when Jamie looks at him again, he smiles big, asks, "Who do I have to blow around here to get a cup of coffee?"
"Uh," Jamie says, tongue heavy and useless in his mouth.
Tyler cracks up laughing and Jamie can't help smiling back at him.
"You're cute in the morning," Tyler says. "Anyone ever tell you that?"
"Um." Jamie can feel himself blushing, his face going all warm. "No."
Tyler pinches Jamie's hip and Jamie pushes him away, towards the coffee machine hissing and rumbling away on the counter.
Jamie clears his throat, says, "Uh, mugs are in the cupboard," more to have something to say than anything else. It's not like Tyler doesn't know where everything is.
Tyler's sipping his coffee, watching Jamie crack eggs, when Jamie hears the front door click open.
"That Jordie?" Tyler asks.
Jamie nods, says, "Yeah, he said he'd come by before morning skate."
Jordie walks in, nods at Tyler without really seeing him, and dumps a couple plastic Safeway bags on the kitchen counter.
"'Sup, man," Tyler says.
It takes a few seconds for him to notice, and then Jamie sees Jordie actually look at Tyler for real. Jordie then turns to Jamie like there's gonna be some reasonable explanation and Jamie freezes in place like a deer on the side of the highway.
There's really no way to spin it like Tyler didn't spend the night. Tyler obviously just rolled out of bed, obviously just pulled on Jamie's clothes, but Jamie's brain is kinda stuck like he's gonna say, what, really? This isn't what it looks like? Don't tell Mom? Like that would work.
"Hey man," Tyler says, completely oblivious to the silent Benn-brother communication going on. "Your girl was blowing up instagram last night, looking good. You get some, bro?"
Jordie turns back to Tyler, who seems totally unphased, like this kind of thing happens to him all the time.
"Uh," Jordie says. He looks as confused as Jamie feels. "Yeah?"
"Score."
Tyler sets down his coffee and raises his hand up for Jordie to high-five. After a second Jordie puts his own hand up, higher than Tyler can comfortably reach, and Tyler starts jumping for it, slapping at Jordie's hand with the tips of his fingers. Every time he jumps, Jamie's sweats slip further and further down Tyler's narrow hips, until Jamie can tell for sure that he isn't wearing any underwear.
Jordie shoves Tyler away, eventually, and Tyler stumbles back a couple steps, still smiling and loose. "See if I ever high five you again, man," he says, "Too much work. She's not that hot."
Jordie shoots back with, "Hotter than what you were hitting last night."
Tyler smirks, but it takes Jordie a couple seconds to realize what he's just said and start looking grossed out.
"I doubt that," Tyler says. He plasters himself over Jamie's back, slipping his fingers into the front pockets of Jamie's shorts. Jamie can feel himself going red to the tips of his ears now, too. He's probably going to have a headache going in a minute here.
"Um," Jamie says. He's still holding an egg in his hand that he'd been about to crack open before Jordie walked in. He lifts it up. "Breakfast?"
"Shit, yeah," Tyler says, too close, words hot and damp against the back of Jamie's neck. "I could eat a horse."
"Too bad," Jamie says. "All we have is eggs."
It's a bad joke. Jordie groans, but Tyler actually laughs.
November 3rd (@tseguinofficial: Thanks @Xbox for the package. Down some wisdom teeth + monday = this)
Jamie stops briefly at an In-n-Out, but otherwise he drives straight from practice to Tyler's without bothering to go home first. He finds Tyler sacked out on the sectional playing video games, his toes resting on Marshall's belly, Cash in his lap.
"You got a good look going right now."
Tyler doesn't really look away from his game -- down 3-1 to Barcelona. "I didn't look good before?"
"Uh-"
When Jamie dropped him off at his appointment he was looking pretty rough, but between then and now, at least he showered and put on clean pants.
"No, I get it," Tyler says. "I look less homeless."
"You feel any better?"
"Yeah. Sure. Shit, does that mean I can't pull that off?" Tyler asks. He's grinning like crazy -- maybe he's still on the good pain pills. "Some people like it! They like when you look all shitty, like, you look like you need to be taken care of."
Jamie shrugs. That's not really something he's into, he guesses.
"I brought you a milkshake."
"You're my hero."
Jamie drops off the milkshake on the kitchen counter, grabs a Gatorade out of the fridge. He heads back into the living room, and he's not expecting it when Tyler loses his game, gets pissed and throws the controller. He misses hitting Jamie in the face, but not by much, and instead nails the uncapped Gatorade Jamie's holding, which pretty much explodes in a shower of blue liquid.
Tyler loses his shit laughing, folding forward and almost falling off the couch.
"Oh, shit," Tyler says, and then he winces and puts his hand up to his face. "Oh, man, don't do that."
Jamie looks down at his shirt, which used to be white and is now mostly blue. It's probably gonna stain. Maybe he can buy a new one?
"Do what?"
"Make me laugh," Tyler says. "Owwww."
Jamie puts the cap back on what's left of his Gatorade and puts it down on the coffee table. He says, "I didn't do it on purpose."
He pulls his shirt up over his head and wads it into a ball, looks around for paper towels or something to clean up with. He looks over at Tyler, because he expected Tyler to chirp him back already, but instead Tyler is looking at him a little dazed.
Tyler follows Jamie into the kitchen, dogs at his heels. Jamie dumps his t-shirt in the sink, wipes his face off with a hand towel.
"Shit," Tyler says. "Did you just take your shirt off so that I would lose my mind with lust?"
Jamie blinks at him for a minute. He's pretty sure the pamphlet he was reading earlier said Tyler wasn't supposed to participate in any strenuous activity.
"Is that an option?"
Tyler laughs and winces again, and then yawns. "Not really."
Tyler finds Jamie a new shirt, turns off the XBox and queues up the Blues-Rangers game.
Jamie falls asleep midway through the second period, wakes up around 1AM because he's too hot -- covered in Tyler and dogs and drool. He shifts around to get more comfortable and Tyler wakes up, a little, mumbles, "You staying over?" He doesn't usually have to ask -- Jamie mostly ends up staying over because he's passed out in Tyler's bed. This isn't so different, really.
Jamie doesn't answer, just pulls Tyler closer.
Tyler shoves Cash and Marshall over about a foot, and they both fall back asleep.
November 6th (vs. Nashville Predators)
Tyler posts the link on his twitter and Jamie watches the ESPN.com thing on his phone with Jordie hovering behind at his shoulder and making fun.
It's not that bad -- before Tyler came they used to make Jamie do everything by himself and it was pretty awful. He never smiled enough or he didn't look at the camera enough or he looked at the camera too much. With Tyler, though, he thinks he mostly does OK. Or maybe it's just that when he watches his own interviews now he's too busy watching Tyler that he doesn't notice how awkward he looks. Who knows.
When Jordie stops laughing, he says, "Jessica would have kicked my ass if I'd said that."
"Huh?"
Jordie steals Jamie's phone and rewinds the video, replays the whole Derek Jeter thing again like Jamie could possibly get more embarrassed about his dumb answers.
"I mean -- Tyler was, like, right there."
"Huh?"
Jordie frowns, asks, "Since when are you single?"
"Since forever," Jamie says. "You know that." It's not like it's a secret how much game Jamie doesn't have off-ice.
"What about, uh, Tyler?" Jordie says, or asks? It's not really obvious if it's a question.
"Tyler?"
"Shit," Jordie says, and sounds like he's sorry. "Did you break up or something?"
Jamie doesn't know what to say to that. No and yes are both kind of wrong, so he just shakes his head.
Jordie seems really uncomfortable. He says, "You know you don't have to, you know, hide from me or anything."
"I'm not hiding anything," Jamie says. "Because there's nothing, uh, to hide? We're not, uh."
Jordie says, "I know what I saw, little bro."
Jamie shakes his head. It's really not like that. It's just way easier to hook up with Tyler than try to meet somebody. He doesn't even have to put much work into it. You have to put work into real relationships. That's what everyone says, isn't it?
"He stays over sometimes, it's not, like. Tyler doesn't really do that."
"You sure? You don't sound sure."
"I'm sure," Jamie says. He's had boyfriends before. Boyfriends expect things from you. It's not like Tyler's expecting anything from Jamie.
"It's no big deal," Jamie says. "It's not like I'm looking for a relationship right now, anyway."
December 19th (@ Calgary Flames)
Every part of Jamie's body hurts. Every part of Jamie wants to just take some advil and go back to sleep for like, 24 hours, but he's supposed to be the captain around here so he's showing his face at team breakfast instead of hiding in his room like he really, really wants to.
Tyler sits in the chair to Jamie's right, sets his plate of eggs down at Jamie's elbow, and starts covering everything in hot sauce. "Hey, Bennie, what should we get my mom for Christmas?"
Every time Jamie closes his eyes he sees Karri Ramo making the same right side glove-save.
"Chubbs," Tyler whines.
Maybe if he'd gone left-
"Jamie."
If he'd been a little faster on the breakaway-
"Hey. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie."
Tyler starts prodding him in the side, doesn't get the hint when Jamie slaps his hand away.
"Jesus, Tyler," Jamie says. "Stop." It comes out a little harsh, not like how he normally talks to Tyler at all, but he doesn't have the energy to deal right now.
Tyler looks a little startled, no, surprised? Something. But Jamie isn't really -- he's exhausted, he's angry, it's 9AM and he's pretty much already done with this day.
"What crawled up your ass this morning?" Tyler asks.
"Nothing," Jamie says, and that should be it, but instead he keeps going, saying shit before he stops to think about it. "What are you even asking about? Are we doing like, a joint gift? I'm not your boyfriend, Tyler, buy it yourself."
Tyler looks blank for a second, and then he laughs, but it's not like Tyler's normal laugh -- this sounds too loud, too sudden, too forced.
"Uh," Jamie says. "I mean-"
"No shit," Tyler says. "Fuck no. I meant, like, me and my sister. I just asked you because I want to know what not to get. You have shitty taste, bro."
Tyler has this fake, too-wide grin on his face, one that Jamie associates with phrases like, I want to thank the fans of Boston for all your support.
"Is true," Val says, and Jamie's head snaps up with the realization that there's other people around. Val, Ales, Spezza -- shit. He'd forgotten they were at the table.
"I have idea," Val says, "Roses. Always good. Or vodka."
Tyler laughs for real this time, says, "Dude, it's not for some girl, it's my mom."
A couple guys chime in with your mom jokes and Tyler gives back as good as he gets -- but there's something off about him.
Jamie finishes his breakfast, gets up to go, but Tyler catches his arm.
"Sorry," Tyler says, voice low, not making eye contact. The other guys are chirping Val about something, Jamie stopped really paying attention. "Sorry about -- I didn't mean to make things weird."
"No, uh, I'm sorry?" Jamie says. Tyler nods.
"I thought-" Tyler starts to say, stops himself mid-word. "Nevermind. We cool?"
"Sure," Jamie says. He doesn't really know why they wouldn't be. "Were you, uh, after practice-"
"Nah," Tyler says, still looking everywhere but at Jamie. "Busy, you know?"
Val calls out Tyler's name from across the table and Tyler flashes Jamie a quick, strange smile, before hitting him on the arm. "Catch you later, cap."
Tyler turns back to the table and Jamie feels like he's missing something important.
January 4th (@ Chicago Blackhawks)
The restaurant is nice in a way that makes Jamie mildly uncomfortable -- sure sign that Jonny picked it out -- and Jamie's surprised that Kane is there too, sitting on the same side of the table as Jonny. Jonny's text hadn't said anything about inviting anyone else.
"Oh," Jamie says. "Uh, hi?"
Jonny stands up from the table to greet Jamie, but Kane stays in his seat.
"Sorry," Jonny says. "I couldn't leave him alone."
Kane rolls his eyes, waves at Jamie over the table. The waitress comes through, Jonny and Jamie get iced tea and Kane orders a glass of some French wine, pronouncing the name badly while Jonny grits his teeth.
They barely make it through appetizers on team Canada smalltalk and the weather. After they finish their salads, Jonny has to go to the bathroom. He looks at Kane pointedly when he gets up, says to him, "Don't get kicked out."
Kane looks mock offended for a second, flips Jonny off to his back.
When Jonny's out of sight, Kane and Jamie stare at each other for a minute before Kane rolls his head back and forth, cracks his neck. They don't really have anything in common besides hockey, and even then, they play very different games. Kane's got a lot more in common with Tyler, really.
"So," Kane says, eventually. "You and Segs."
Oh. Right. They have that in common, too.
Jamie used to think Tyler had a thing for Kane, which was confusing, because Kane, but Jamie was trying really hard not to judge Tyler back then. Then he'd actually seen Tyler talk to Kane and it was like 180 degrees away from how he talked to people he was trying to hook up with, so Jamie figured Tyler just wanted to like, be Kane, which made more sense
"What, uh," Jamie says, "What about him."
If Kane wants to know how Tyler's been, he's asking the wrong person. They haven't really seen much of each other in the last few weeks. Tyler keeps saying he's busy, but Jamie's not stupid, he knows he screwed something up.
Kane narrows his eyes. "He didn't say anything, but he's been, I dunno. Weird. You two break up or something?"
They haven't hooked up in a while, either, so -- "Yeah? I guess so?"
"That sucks," Kane says. "You're were all cute together."
Jamie doesn't really know what to say. He didn't think anybody but Jordie knew about that. Kane and Tyler are still pretty close, he guesses, even though Kane's number is in Tyler's phone as Don't Text Her Bro.
"Still," Kane says. "I love Segs, but like, I get it. Can't make a ho into a housewife."
Jamie is pretty sure he means it as a joke, but Jamie has to shove down hard on the urge to punch his face in.
"It wasn't, uh, it wasn't like that."
Tyler'd vacuumed his living room every time Jamie came over. He'd cooked dinner a few times. He'd reminded Jamie and Jordie to call their cousin on her birthday. It wasn't like that at all.
Kane looks at Jamie a little weird, but he doesn't say anything else.
Jonny comes back, finally, water spilled all down the front of his shirt.
Kane starts laughing, says, "What the fuck, Tazer? Did you fall in?"
"No." Jonny looks embarrassed, grits his teeth and says, "Shut the fuck up."
Kane rolls his eyes, takes his phone out of his pocket and starts screwing around with it.
Jonny sits down, really close to Kane, takes a drink from Kane's wineglass without asking. He says, "Sorry to leave you alone with this fucker. I apologize for anything he said."
Jamie has been around the two of them before, but he still doesn't really get Jonny and Kane. Jamie spends a lot less time calling his friends fuckers and apologizing for them -- even Tyler.
"Uh," Jamie says. "It's fine. He was fine?"
Kane looks over to Jonny and smiles, big and obnoxious. Jonny finishes Kane's glass of wine.
They don't stop bitching at each other throughout dinner, but they don't move any further apart, either. It's weird. They play really amazing hockey together, though. It's obviously working for them.
February 14th (@ Colorado Avalanche)
Valentines day in Denver, Jordie calls bro-date.
"Tyler coming?"
Jordie gives Jamie a weird look and shakes his head. He says, "Bro-date, dude. Bros only. If I can't see Jessica tonight, you can't bring Tyler."
They end up at a bar that only serves beer -- 20 different kinds and all with names Jamie doesn't recognize. It doesn't have a TV, the only food they have is popcorn, and every single person in the place looks like Jordie. Jamie's never seen so many dudes with huge beards outside of Canada, it's unreal.
Jamie runs out of things to say before they even finish the first round, just gives up and says, "You can talk about her, it's OK," and then that's like, the rest of the night right there.
Jamie doesn't mind -- he really likes Jessica. If she and Jordie get married, it'll probably get their parents off Jamie's back, and that'll be nice. He doesn't think he can deal with another well honey, it's legal now conversation with Mom this summer. They mean well, but they don't get that Jamie isn't, like, ambitious or imaginative or anything. He figures when his body gives out and he finally lets himself put on the 15 pounds his face wants back, he'll meet a nice Canadian boy and they'll move in together. Maybe get a dog. That's it.
Jordie's phone starts ringing.
"Is that her? That's her, isn't it."
Jordie looks shifty.
"You can't answer that. That's like -- a bro-date foul."
Jamie steals Jordie's phone to keep him from answering, and while he's holding it, it lights up with text message after text message: Thinking of u! :D :D :D and Miss u!! <3 <3 <3 and Love you!!!
"Gross," Jamie says, and he throws it back. Jordie hits Jamie upside the head, knocking Jamie's hat off into the little basket of popcorn on the table.
"Sorry not sorry," Jordie says, and grins. "You're just jealous."
"Ugh, shut up," Jamie says.
Jamie's not jealous, most of the time he's not thinking about anything but hockey, honestly. But he does think -- it'd be nice. To have someone like that.
Jamie looks at his own phone while Jordie's messing around with his and smiling like an idiot. The most recent texts in Jamie's inbox are all from Mom and Dad and Jenny, a few from the boys, but if he goes back to before December, he's got at least five a day from Tyler: dinner? ;) and drive safe babe see u in the morning and u look hot 2nite and cant wait to see yr face.
At the time Jamie'd thought it was just Tyler being Tyler, but now reading them over... he feels really stupid. Because it's obvious they were -- that they were -- and then Jamie -- oh fuck. Jordie was right.
Tyler is no-one's definition of a nice Canadian boy, but he is from Ontario. That had to count for something.
Shit, Jamie thinks. Oh, shit.
"Chubbs?" Jordie asks. "You doin' OK there? You don't look so good."
"Yeah," Jamie says, and Jordie looks about as convinced as the time Jamie claimed he made it with Kelly Harkins in grade nine. "I mean, uh, no? Not really. But it's fine. I'll be fine."
Jamie's thumb hovers over the keyboard for a minute before he types out a text to Tyler: Can we talk?
His hand only shakes a little when he hits send.
The answer comes back right away: cant rite now. later?
Jamie stares down at his phone, takes a deep breath, sends: I miss you
Tyler takes longer to reply this time, eventually comes back with: r u drunk? and then: nvrmind dont answer that. i AM drnk. talk 2morrow?
OK, Jamie sends back. He's about to put his phone away when it buzzes again, with: miss u 2
February 17th (@ St. Louis Blues)
Between the travel day and Tyler being pretty hungover and everything, it doesn't actually work out that they get any time to themselves, so Jamie spends two days feeling slightly sick to his stomach every time Tyler looks at him. He feels like it must be obvious what he's thinking, everything has to be showing on his face, but the guys don't even chirp him for it.
They get a couple hours to themselves in St. Louis and Jamie follows Tyler back to his hotel room after practice.
"So," Tyler says, once the door's shut. "You wanted to talk."
Jamie had a whole thing worked out that he wanted to say, but instead he just blurts out, "When I said I wasn't your boyfriend. I, uh, was your boyfriend, wasn't I."
"Oh," Tyler says. "We're talking about this? I thought we didn't talk about this."
"No, we do," Jamie shakes his head. He says, "I mean, we should."
Tyler crosses his arms, says, "So. Yeah. You were. I mean, I thought so. You obviously didn't."
Jamie still can't quite -- Tyler's said it now out loud and it still doesn't really seem like it happened.
To be honest, Jamie's gotten drunk and woken up in relationships before. He's not proud, but, you know. It is what it is. He just didn't think it would ever happen with somebody like Tyler.
"Why, uh, did you think that?"
Tyler gives Jamie this look. Like -- like when your parents say I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.
"You don't really do casual, you know, so I thought it meant something. So like, here I wake up with, you know, this great guy. And I think, OK. Good job, Segs. Keep it the fuck up."
Jamie thinks he should probably say something, but he's stuck on how Tyler thinks he's this great guy.
"I just thought I got, you know, lucky. I mean, I'm not -- uh, let's be real here -- I'm not known for making good decisions. Like, fuck, the best decision I made recently was to like, grow a beard. I think that's working pretty well for me." He smiles, just a little, and Jamie's heart stops for a second before it starts beating again, harder against his chest. "Next time I'll just stick to what I'm fucking good at."
Tyler doesn't sound angry so much as -- he sounds like he's already made up his mind about what exactly that means, and it's nothing good.
"You're a nice Canadian boy," Jamie says, because it's the first thing that comes to mind and Jamie is a dumbass. Tyler looks really confused. "Wait, no, I mean -- uh, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
"You don't have to--"
"I wanted to be your boyfriend. I'm sorry that I was so shitty at it."
"But you weren't," Tyler says, "You were really good at it."
Jamie shakes his head. That's not right. He says, "No. That was all you. I mean, you vacuumed. I didn't even realize we were, you know."
Tyler looks away, but Jamie thinks he's smiling. His nose is all scrunched up like it gets when Jamie does something Tyler thinks is funny but Jamie doesn't know what it is and wasn't doing it on purpose.
"Fuck, Bennie, how did you not even-" Tyler starts, but then he stops. He sounds like -- like he does when Jamie's doing something lame and he's asking himself, Why I am I even standing next to this guy? But he is smiling, and he's not moving away. "How did you really not know?"
"I don't know," Jamie says. "It didn't make sense, you know, because I'm, uh, and you're, uh, you're so out of my league."
Tyler's eyes go wide and he laughs -- hard enough that he snorts. He says, "Your league is the NHL."
"What?" Jamie says. "That doesn't even make sense."
Tyler's laughing so much that all he gets out is little gasps and something that sounds like your face.
Jamie waits until Tyler stops laughing to say, "Let me, uh, let me take you out on purpose."
As soon as he says it, he has this a moment of terror because -- maybe it's too late. Maybe he screwed it up too bad. Maybe Tyler had such a shitty time the first time around that it's not something he wants to do again.
"I can do better," Jamie says. "Let me do better."
Jamie has to try, because Tyler's the only person he's ever met who says to Jamie, "Why are you so weird?" and then moves closer.
Tyler catches his breath for a minute and then he nods. Jamie feels relief all the way down into his bones, but he also feels nervous and excited, kinda like how he felt when Tyler first texted him, lets prove them wrong.
"OK," Tyler says. "Yeah. But, you know, don't expect anything. I'm not easy."
Jamie can feel himself smiling, he probably looks really stupid. "That's a filthy lie."
Tyler cracks up laughing, again.
"Yeah, it is."
February 19th (vs. San Jose Sharks)
Jamie doesn't look, drops the puck back for Tyler and tries to sell Dillon on a fake-out to the corner of the net. Dills bites down hard, mirroring Jamie to the right, and a second later Jamie can tell that Tyler's scored from the way the crowd goes crazy.
"Fucking right!" Tyler yells.
Jamie turns, lets his back crash into the boards as Tyler slams into him. Ales follows a moment later and then Jordie and Trevor after him.
"Fucking right," Tyler says again.
Jordie and Trevor and Ales break off first, skating towards the bench, but Tyler doesn't let go right away, leaning in until the visors on their helmets are touching. Everything's right there, in his eyes, in the way he's smiling. Jamie doesn't know how he didn't see it before. It's not like Tyler's good at hiding his feelings or anything.
"Good job, Segs," Jamie says. Tyler keeps smiling, big enough that it looks like it's gonna break his face in half. "Keep it the fuck up."