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“So this is really it huh?” Mark said softly in the darkness, fingers brushing through Wayne’s hair.
Wayne said nothing, instead choosing to cuddle closer to Mark’s chest. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about anything. Wayne was content to lay there forever, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Mark’s chest while the world kept turning around them. Wayne shivered slightly when he felt Mark slide his hand up the back of his shirt to rub small calming circles against his lower back.
Nowhere on Earth was as peaceful as in Mes’s arms.
He was going to miss it.
“Wayne? Are you awake?” Mark whispered.
Wayne made a soft sound of confirmation, looking up at Mark through a mess of blonde hair. The darkness made reading his expression impossible.
“Are we going to talk about this?”
Wayne tried to ignore the question. There was plenty of time to worry about that tomorrow. If tonight was going to be it, he didn’t want to worry about trades and moving and futures, and he didn’t want Mark to worry about it either.
Wayne tried to feign sleep, resting his head down and letting out slow breaths to match Mark’s own. Mark, clearly unamused, pulled his hand off Gretz’s back.
“Hey-” Wayne protested before Mark gripped his shoulders, sitting him up. “I was comfortable.”
Mark flicked on the light, rolling his eyes as Wayne let himself fall back on the bed.
“Mess it’s late. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
“You’ve said that every day for two months. Everybody knows there won’t be a tomorrow to talk. This is now or never.” Mark flopped down next to Wayne, turning his head to look over expectantly at him.
“There will be time tomorrow.”
Mark was silent for a while, looking back up at the bedroom’s ceiling. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice exasperated when he spoke again. “That’s such bullshit.”
“I’ll make the time.”
“Just talk to me now.”
“Mark-”
“ Wayne .”
He looked over at Mess and tries to ignore how glossy his eyes were. How his steady breaths have become shaky. How visibly upset he is.
“What is there to talk about?”
“You tell me, you’re the one leaving.”
Wayne looks back at Mark, catching his eyes as he looks down. “That’s what I’m saying. There is nothing to talk about. I’m leaving tomorrow, and a conversation isn’t going to change that.”
Mark sat up abruptly. “A conversation now won’t change that. Maybe one a few weeks ago could’ve, but you never thought to ask me about any of this.”
“Why are you bitter?” Wayne leaned back on his elbows, meeting Mark’s harsh gaze. “You knew this was coming.”
An exasperated sigh left Mark’s lips.
“What?”
“You aren’t listening!”
Wayne was unafraid to match Mark’s tone. “How am I not listening?”
“I just wanted to have a conversation with you about this. Before the trade was official. Before you changed your mind about leaving.”
Wayne didn’t mean for his next words to be so harsh. “I didn’t realize I had to run everything by you. My fucking bad.”
“That isn’t what I said-”
“It’s what you meant though isn’t it?”
“Not really no? I just figured that you wouldn’t so easily give this up.”
“And what is this ?” Wayne was glaring at Mark now, volume increasing with every word. “Maybe if I had known, this wouldn’t have happened. But friends with benefits don’t get a say on my career.”
The moment the words left Wayne’s mouth he regretted it. He knew they were more than that, even if neither of them had come out and said it outright. The years of secret side kisses and long nights holding each other tight through thick and thin were enough to tell Wayne that. Mark clearly felt the same way, or Wayne’s words wouldn’t have hurt him so badly.
“I’m going to go,” Mark said coldly, standing immediately. “Good luck in Los Angeles.”
He didn’t waste a moment leaving, slamming the bedroom door before Wayne had the chance to say a word.
That didn’t stop Wayne from sprinting down the stairs after him. “I didn’t mean-”
Mark’s hand was on the doorknob, and he was standing half-in half-out of the house. “You seemed pretty sure. Whatever. You don’t want to talk and that’s fine. I’m going, and you can go to LA with no strings attached. Sorry, you thought these last years were worth nothing.”
Wayne was all but pleading with Mess. “Mark, stay. Just talk to me.”
“Now you want to talk?”
It took all of Wayne’s willpower to not get frustrated. “Yes. I do. I’m sorry.”
Mark shut the door, the click allowing Wayne to let out a relieved breath. At the bare minimum, he wasn’t leaving right away. He’d hear Wayne out.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Mark said the moment they’d sat down. “Before any of this.”
“I didn’t know how.” Wayne replied truthfully, staring at the grain of the wood on the table. “I know that’s shit. But this is a business, and we both know how that works. I’ve been talking with McNall, and Peter obviously, and I think this will be good for my career. It’s a big change, but it could be a good thing. But I knew how you’d react, because I’d react the same way.”
“What, you mean pissed? How else could anyone react?”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“I knew it was going to happen. Rumors like this don’t swirl around without some truth to them.”
Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know.”
Both men were silent for a moment after that, neither one sure what to say. It was awkward, sitting in Wayne’s dining room in the middle of the night, especially knowing what was coming tomorrow.
Mark wiped his eyes as discreetly as he could before letting out a half-laugh, half-cry. “I’m not mad about you leaving, Gretz. I get it.”
“It’s not fair to you.”
“It wouldn’t be fair for me to be the reason you stayed.” Mark replied.
“I still feel bad.”
This time Mark truly laughed. “I don’t care. I can’t blame you. But if you told me six months ago that you of all people would be traded, I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“Yeah.”
Then it was silent again. It was awkward, and Wayne knew it was partly his fault. He’d always had trouble communicating. Mark had to egg him on; it was always Mark that convinced him to talk. Mark always initiated it, and that had been the problem. He hadn’t initiated this, hadn’t even asked Wayne about the rumors, and so Wayne didn’t feel obligated to tell.
“Mark this doesn’t need to stop. Everything will be different sure, but we’ll figure it out. We always have.”
Mark was quiet, gently tapping his fingers on the table in a consistent rhythm. “I don’t know.”
Wayne hadn’t expected this reply. “What?”
“I don’t know if we can do this.” Mark said, looking up from the table. He must’ve seen the shock in Wayne’s face from the other side of the room, because he quickly clarified. “I’ll still try, don’t get me wrong. But it’s simpler to not have that tie back to Edmonton, when you go. It’ll be easier without this weighing you down in LA. I’m sure you want that transition to be smoother.”
“I want to keep us going. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t.”
Mark took a deep breath, looking down. “I know Gretz. Believe me, I know.”
Wayne shook his head, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk. Because maybe you asking me about this would change the fact your opinions and choices are always the ones that stick.”
Wayne was just about to speak before Mark continued. “I don’t mean it negatively. It’s just true.”
“Are you going tomorrow?” Wayne asked suddenly, catching Mark off guard. “For the press conference?”
“I don’t know.” Mark replied. “Do you want me there?”
Wayne did, but he didn’t want to force Mark into anything he didn’t want to do. “Your choice.”
“We’ll see.” Mark smiled at him.
The same soft beautiful smile Wayne loved, but one that failed to hide the hurt in Mess’s eyes.
“I don’t want you crying. Because if you do, then I’ll start, and both of us will never hear the end of it.”
“No crying. Got it. I can do that.” Wayne stood. “Are you still walking out on me?”
Mark shook his head. “No. But only because you’re leaving.”
If Mess hadn’t been grinning when he said it, it would’ve bothered Wayne. It still did, even when he was back comfortably in Mark’s caring arms.
“We aren’t over. I’m going to make this work.” Wayne whispered into Mark’s chest. “I’ll come back to play with you, eventually.”
Mark was careful to shush him as gently as he could. “Get some rest. There’s a lot to do tomorrow. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”
A sleepy murmur was all Wayne could manage before drifting off.
——————————————————————————-
Per usual, Mark was right. There was a lot to do. Endless talking to members of the media, the Oilers, and eventually the Kings. It was all very tedious, and a lot of the goodbyes were forced.
Most of the people Wayne would actually miss weren’t there, and Wayne couldn’t blame them for that. This wasn’t something he overly wanted to attend either.
The press conference started grimly. A myriad of microphones from every news station that Wayne could imagine stood on a table, with cameras ready to capture the press conference from every possible angle.
Not that being in the public eye was a new feeling for Wayne, but this scene felt uncomfortably crowded. He asked for the trade sure, but not for the spectacle the process was becoming.
It didn’t help that the moment Peter began talking, the reality of everything set in. No longer were these just rumors and discussions. No, Wayne was leaving, truly leaving for good, and he wasn’t coming back. He realized that the moment he asked for a trade, but it hadn’t truly hit him until now.
Mess was right again. This truly was it.
He glanced around the small crowd that encircled the table. If Mark was there, he didn’t see him. Wayne didn’t stop glancing around the room until he was called to speak to the media.
There was a brief moment where Wayne thought about reading the small speech he’d prepared. The paper weighed heavy in his pocket. It was written about a week ago, when someone had pointed out, amid flying trade rumors and heated discussions with various members of management, that if a trade did go through, the public would want to hear something from Wayne. Media would ask after all, and better to be prepared than make something up on the spot.
However, it’d been written before he’d talked to Mark. Before the gravity of this life-altering event had struck him. Before he’d seen how serious this going to be. Before talking to Mark about everything.
A lot had happened and talking off a sheet of paper no longer felt genuine enough. Not for the fans, not for Mark, and not for Wayne himself.
So instead, he opted to speak straight from the heart.
It started off smoothly, thanking the team and the fans, and professing how he wished it didn’t have to end this way. How this had been a wonderful experience for him over the years.
Then Wayne hesitated for a moment, and the brief pause allowed for the memory of Mark from last night to creep back into the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about their promise to make it work, even though neither one of them knew what they were doing.
He tried to continue, but it was too late. Tears were coming to his eyes, and he couldn’t speak without his voice breaking. He could barely even breathe, his throat feeling as though it was closing.
The following minutes were filled with Wayne dabbing his eyes with tissues while taking long sips out of a glass he’d reached for once the tears really welled in his eyes. Every time he tried to address the media again, his voice caught in his throat.
It got to the point where Wayne couldn’t help but laugh. It was akin to the one Mark had let out the night before, mixed with a sob in a way that was honestly bittersweet.
“Y’know I promised Mess I wouldn’t do this.” He said, a sad smile creeping onto his face.
He barely got through another sentence before his speaking portion of the press conference was cut abruptly short. Wayne couldn’t get through anymore, too overcome with emotion to say anything else.
He stepped away from the mics and was silent for the rest of the press conference.