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It had been a shitty week.
Well, not really.
But in Pat’s mind it had been.
He should be happy, shouldn’t he?
Two time Stanley Cup Champion. Calder and Conn Smythe winner. Should have won the mother fucking Lady Byng, but what the fuck ever. Like he wasn’t as gentlemanly as St. Louis.
He’d been feeling great. Gettin’ goals, back checking, and racking up take aways. Back on Jonny’s line where he always should be. But everything started to close in on Pat this last week. Too much thinking was not a good thing as far as he was concerned, especially when he just missed most of his nap because of it.
“Pat…” Jonny’s warm breath ruffled the hairs on the back of Pat’s neck followed by a string of soft kisses along his shoulder blades. “We need to get up if we’re going to make it to the game.”
“I don’t see you moving out of bed.” Pat’s voice was rough with sleep, even though there hadn’t been that much beyond zoning out for him. Jonny’s arm tightened around Pat’s waist, pulling himself more fully onto him, even though he was the one saying they should get going. “Not really in the mood to go anyway. Why don’t we just stay in.”
Jonny’s fingers dug into his skin before pushing himself up. Pat already missed his weight. “What the hell? It’s all you’ve talked about since Derrick got you the seats. That is… when you’ve talked. Seriously, Pat. What’s going on?”
“Just not feeling it. And fuck you! You’re always telling me to shut up, so I’d think you’d be happy with me being all introspective and shit.” Pat threw the comforter back and slipped out of bed, trying to make a quick escape to the bathroom. In his heart of hearts he knew he was being stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself from wallowing in his unhappiness.
“Patrick.” And there was Jonny’s captain voice that even though he didn’t want to, made him stop. “Look at me.” Pat turned his head just enough to watch as Jonny threw his legs over the side of the bed. Jesus, his chest was distracting. “Introspective is a big word, so let me give you a couple more. Insolent and sullen. I want to know what’s been going on with you.”
Pat pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Jonny, can we not.” And now his voice sounded whiney even to him. Christ.
“Fine.” Jonny signed. “But I don’t want to hear later that I’m the one who’s emotionally constipated.”
Pat watched as Jonny grabbed a shirt from the pile on the floor, not even taking the time to sniff it before he walked out of the bedroom in disgust. Pat banged his head against the doorframe. Life was going from bad to worse if he couldn’t even hold Jonny’s emotional distance over his head.
##
Before they ate dinner, Pat made sure he texted DRose to say they wouldn’t be at the Bulls game, just in case there was another of his boys he wanted to give the seats to. He didn’t get a reply, not that he was expecting one. A truce had seemed to be in place as they sat in companiable silence while eating their tomato basil linguine that they had fixed together. And Jonny nodded, taking his plate into the kitchen before walking down the hall when Pat volunteered to clean up.
When the table had been cleared, the kitchen wiped down, and the dishwasher started, Pat plopped onto the couch to watch something mind numbing on tv. The elimination challenge on Top Chef was just starting when Jonny came into the room. Instead of taking his normal seat, he settled on top of Pat, straddling him, his knees pushing under the back cushion.
“Get off me you fattie, you’re going to flatten me.” Pat wailed.
“Fuck you, I’m not fat, and neither is my ass.” Jonny poked his finger into the center of Pat’s chest. “I don’t remember you complaining Sunday after I fucked you.”
“I was in the afterglow of our passion. My mind didn’t comprehend your bodymass in that moment.” Pat lifted his hand to his forehead in a fake swooning motion.
“You need to stop reading YA novels. Afterglow of passion?” Jonny cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Whatever, dude. You’re not a window and I was watching a show.” Pat didn’t really give a shit, it was the point of the matter.
“Patrick.”
Fuck.
“Just tell me what’s going on.” Jonny quieted.
“Nothing.” Shit. Pat squirmed knowing his time was up if Jonny was being this persistent.
“Don’t tell me nothing. You know, you hurt Sharpy right?”
“What? No I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you really did. You barely congratulated him on Sadie’s birth. Have you even talked to Abby?”
“So, because I didn’t jump him the second he got to the locker room, I didn’t congratulate him?” Pat inwardly winced. When Maddy was born, that’s exactly what he’d done and then all but followed Sharpy to the hospital to see Abby and the baby. And no, technically he hadn’t talked to Abby, but he’d texted her. Not that Jonny needed to know that.
Jonny’s face flickered with disappointment before softening. He trailed his hands up Pat’s chest to grip his shoulders. “Whatever has got you in this funk, you don’t have to go through it alone. Let me help you fix it. That’s what partners are for.”
And those were the magic words to unleash the hurt and longing that Pat had been internalizing. He and Jonny were partners. They’d been off and on for years; breaking up, making up until last year when they’d both figured out that they needed each other to feel whole. With that finally behind them, Jonny had figured out there was more to life than hockey, and Pat had become more settled. Pat closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath before beginning.
“It started with Hammer getting married. Then Sharpy and Abby having Sadie. They get to add on to their family whenever they feel like it. Sam and Rachel getting engaged. God, he gets to show the world a picture of them and that damned ring. And your boy, Oshie. Oshie and Lauren are gonna have a baby girl. Oshie, Jonny! Who the hell would give him a kid? And I know I’m being stupid and self centered but it’s like everyone we know is getting married and having babies, and Hammer is going to be a dad. Hammer! And I just feel like life is moving past me while I’m sitting on the bench like a fourth liner.” Pat ran out of steam, feeling deflated instead of any better for having spilled his guts. He was aware of Jonny’s callus roughened fingers slowly running up and down his arms. There was silence except for some inane conversation about what creole cooking really meant coming from the tv. His life really was stupid and if he opened his eyes right now, he was sure he would be judged. But then…
“I don’t understand. Do you want to slow down? Break up?” Jonny choked out, the tension in his body leaked into Pat.
Wait? What? Pat’s eyes flew open to see a stricken look on Jonny’s face, his cheeks stained red. “No! God, no! That’s not what I’m sayin’. Jon, it’s the opposite. ” Pat cupped Jonny’s face in his hands. “I like us. I… I love us. You have to know that.”
“Then why are you upset with our friends being happy if we are?”
There in lay the crux of the problem. Because deep inside of him, there was still something missing for Pat. Jonny covered Pat’s hands with his own before kissing each one and waited for Pat to answer.
“Because even though tomorrow is Spirit Day, and even with You Can Play, there’s no way the league is ready for us to tell everyone we’re together. I’m not lying, Jon. I am happy. But I want everyone to know why I’m happy.”
“Just like our friends,” interrupted Jonny.
“Just like our friends,” nodded Pat.
Jonny leaned forward to rest his forehead on Pat’s. Jonny’s eyes were almost black this close up. Pat loved him so much, and even though they rarely said it, hopefully Jonny knew with every beat of his heart. He never needed to move from here, from this time as long as Jonny was with him.
“Pat, yeah, it’s not as good as we want it to be, but it’s better than it could be. I mean, our families have been great, and Sharpie, Seabs, and Duncs have been supportive. It’s getting better every day. One day we’ll wake up and it will be.” Jonny spoke with an intensity that he usually left at the rink. When he got like this, Pat could almost believe anything.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Like the Trevor Project’s motto, it gets better. One day we’re going to be able to post a video for them.”
Pat looked at Jonny thoughtfully. “So, I guess we have to wait till it doesn’t matter for us to be open. For us to have kids.”
“Either that, or we’re going to wake up one day and just not give a shit anymore. We’re just going to go for a run and then I’m going to hold your hand as we walk during our cool down. People will tweet pictures of us as you grab my ass, and then I push you against a tree, rubbing my thigh between your legs as I kiss you.”
Pat moaned as he kissed Jonny. How could he not. Licking into his mouth, for an all too brief time before Jonny pulled back, his face still way too serious before it changed into his lop sided smirk.
“So then, do you want me to try to get you pregnant? I think in the name of science we should try.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why does it have to be me getting pregnant?”
“I don’t have the hips for it.”
“And I do? Your ass is so big it would balance out the baby belly.” Pat shot back.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Jonny pulled his shirt over his head, depositing it on Pat’s head, leaving him sputtering as he stood up and walked towards the bedroom. “I went to college. I know how important science is.”
“I can hardly wait to instagram a picture of our sonogram like Lauren and TJ did. And your belly is going to be all messed up with that gel stuff on it.” Pat called out as he hopped up off the couch and started to follow Jonny. First though, he needed to text Abby to ask if he could have lunch at the Sharp mansion on Friday. He would even bring the food.