Archive of Our Own

“Do you think we’re cursed?”

Jamie frowns as he looks over at Tyler. “What?”

“With hockey,” Tyler says, waving his beer bottle in the air, legs stretched out on the lounger he’s on. “Cursed.”

“...no?” Jamie answers, unsure what Tyler wants him to say. “I think we’ve had bad luck.”

“Yeah,” Tyler says with a slight sigh.

“Segs, are you—”

“How did you know?”

Jamie blinks, unable to keep up with the tangents Tyler’s taking today, and he wonders exactly how much more beer he’s gotta drink so he can keep up with him. “Know what?” Jamie asks, not entirely sure he wants to know.

“That, uh, that it was really over with Katie?”

Jamie pauses, takes a long swig of his beer, almost finishing it, and looks out at his pool. “I guess... I mean, we were spending more time fighting than anything, and it just stopped feeling right. Stopped feeling good. Being with her. I—” Jamie licks his lips before he shakes his head. “I didn’t really—for a moment there, I mean—”

“You cheated?”

Jamie doesn’t answer, which he knows is an answer in itself. Blinking against the sun, he quirks his mouth in a sad smile and shrugs.

“Huh,” Tyler says. There’s no judgement in his voice, and a little of the tension in Jamie’s shoulders at admitting it fades. “Kinda thought you’d come out of this whole thing engaged,” Tyler says eventually.

“Thought about it,” Jamie says honestly. “But didn’t... I mean, you can’t apologise with a ring, you know? Not exactly a solid foundation for marriage. It’d been five years, still didn’t feel right.” There’s a thoughtful noise from Tyler, and Jamie looks at him, eyes narrowing. “Are you—you’re not shopping for rings?”

“Fuck no,” Tyler says instantly, and the sudden clench that had appeared around Jamie’s heart at the thought eases a little. “It’s actually. Huh.” Tyler pauses, fingernails scraping at the label on the beer bottle in his hands. “I think it’s kind of the other thing.”

“What other—oh. You want to break up with her?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, squinting against the sun low in the sky. “I’ve never really—you know what my relationships have been.”

“Calling them relationships is being generous.”

“See? So how do I—because I don’t think she—I think I’ll end up hurting her.”

“You think I’m the best person to ask?” Jamie sighs, leaning back against the lounger and stretching his legs out. “C’mon, you’d be better off asking someone else.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“Pretty sure there’s a reason for that,” Jamie says, looking over at him. “What about Ali? Because if you tell me she broke up with you, I’m gonna laugh. A lot.”

“No,” Tyler says, laughing. “Asshole. No, we just, y’know, stopped fucking. That wasn’t—this is different.”

Jamie makes a face. “The only real relationship I’ve been in imploded with a whimper because neither of us had the guts to walk away before it destroyed our friendship. Don’t think I’ve got advice for you here.”

“What use are you, then?” Tyler chirps gently.

“You’re drinking my beer, dickwad,” Jamie says, smiling when Tyler rolls his eyes. A comfortable silence settles between them, and Jamie closes his eyes, enjoying the sun on his skin. The disappointment at missing out on the playoffs still stings, and the memory of sitting in a hotel room with the Preds-Canes game on and watching their chances get cut off won’t ever go away, but everyone keeps telling him that they fought their hardest with the hand they got dealt, and he’s trying to believe that.

“Hey,” Tyler says, kicking him. “Stop thinking about it.”

“M’not,” Jamie mumbles, the heat making him lazy. “Shut up.”

“You are,” Tyler says. “You have a playoff wrinkle.”

“Excuse me?” Jamie opens his eyes and looks over at Tyler. “The fuck are you talking about?”

There’s a big grin on Tyler’s face as he reaches over, his fingers pressing against Jamie’s brow. “Right here,” Tyler says softly. “Means you’re thinking about playoffs.”

Tyler’s finger is cool against Jamie’s skin from the bottle he’s been holding, and it brushes slightly over Jamie’s eyebrows as he moves away. Jamie’s quiet as he follows the movement of Tyler’s hand with his eyes as Tyler backs off. “You’re an idiot,” Jamie says after a too long moment, his skin flushed as he stands up. “I’m grabbing more beers, you want?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, head tilted as he looks at Jamie. “Sure.”

Jamie picks up the cooler and escapes into the kitchen, loading it back up with beers from the fridge before ducking into the pantry and grabbing a couple bags of chips as well. Pausing by the kitchen island, he looks out and takes in the sight of Tyler all spread out on the lounger he always commandeers as he when he’s over, skin practically glowing in the sun, long fingers tapping at his phone, and just for a moment Jamie lets himself want. Any longer and he’ll forget all the reasons he doesn’t let himself do that. Can’t let himself do that.

Dragging his gaze away from Tyler, Jamie looks down at the cooler and shakes his head. “Snap out of it, Chubbs,” he mumbles to himself before heading outside.

“I could get used to this,” Tyler says as Jamie puts the cooler down and throws a bag of chips at him. “Bring me more things.”

Jamie rolls his eyes as he sits on his lounger before flipping the top on the cooler and popping open another beer. “Shut your mouth and enjoy my hospitality,” he says before taking a drink. There’s a quick, easy smile from Tyler before he grabs his own beer and rips open the bag of chips Jamie threw at him. Jamie waits, flexes his feet against the heat of the ground. “What are you going to do?” Jamie asks.

To his credit, Tyler doesn’t pretend like he doesn’t know what Jamie’s talking about. He shrugs, crunching on a mouthful of chips before he swallows, following it up with a drag on the bottle. “I gotta be nice,” he says, fingers running along the neck of the bottle. “I don’t want to be cruel.”

“You’re a good dude,” Jamie says, settling back on the lounger and tilting his head towards the sun, closing his eyes. “You’ll work it out, eh.”

“You’re so unhelpful,” Tyler says, laughing. “Holy shit, like actually the worst. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here. How do I make sure she doesn’t, like, burn down my house?”

Jamie squints over at him. “Your house is pretty big,” he says. “That would take a lot of effort.”

“Reassuring, thanks,” Tyler says, deadpan. “Fuck, I should’ve got married when I was eighteen, life would be easier.”

Jamie snorts. “Anyone you married at eighteen would not have made your life easier.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Tyler says with a sigh before perking up. “Hey, if she does burn down my house, can I come live with you?”

“Sure, Tyler,” Jamie says, closing his eyes again. “You can come live with me if she commits arson.”

“Sweet.”

*

“Please tell me she didn’t actually burn down your house,” Jamie says when he comes home from getting groceries to find Tyler in his front yard with the dogs running around. Kneeling down, he lets Cash greet him enthusiastically, smiling despite himself as Gerry tries to climb on him. Scratching Marshall behind the ears where he’s sprawled on the ground, Jamie stands up, firmly pushing Gerry down.

“She didn’t,” Tyler says, holding his hands up. “I swear.”

“Tyler.”

“So,” Tyler says, sitting on the ground and half smiling as Gerry immediately starts licking his face. “Turns out I’m really bad at breaking up with people.”

Jamie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes momentarily. “Did you actually break up with her?”

“Well,” Tyler says, his cheeks pinking up. “I mean, I—look, I tried to tell her that I don’t—it’s not like I’m going to marry her, but—”

“You had sex instead,” Jamie says, flatly, because of course that’s what happened. It’s not like Jamie hasn’t been there himself, he and Katie had more rounds of break up sex than he can count, so he can’t judge Tyler entirely, but—. He’s still judging.

Tyler shrugs, kissing Marshall’s face when he comes and rests his chin on Tyler’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says, looking up at Jamie. “Oops.”

“Help me get the groceries in,” Jamie sighs as Cash nudges his head against Jamie’s legs.

Somehow, in their time apart, Jamie forgot that Tyler knows where everything goes in Jamie’s kitchen and pantry, how he even knows the way Jamie will store some of the Oreos in a higher cupboard behind protein powder to keep them out of sight, and it’s—. Tyler’s so fucking comfortable here, always acting like he belongs here, and it makes Jamie think about all the things he can’t let himself have. Shoving the last of the meat in the freezer, Jamie sticks his hands in his shorts pockets and looks at where Tyler’s filling the water bowls for the dogs that Jamie still keeps in the kitchen. “Mario Kart?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t bring beer,” Jamie says as they walk over to the couches. “You owe me.”

“Next time,” Tyler says, taking the controller Jamie hands him. “Promise.”

Jamie kicks Tyler’s ass, which may have something to do with the fact that Tyler keeps getting distracted as they play by either his phone buzzing, which he ignores, or the dogs, which he doesn’t. The last round ends when Gerry decides to sit in front of Tyler, obscuring Tyler’s view of the screen, and Tyler groans, dropping his controller in favour of cuddling Gerry.

“Worst puppy ever,” he mutters in between kissing Gerry’s face. “How is daddy meant to beat Uncle Jamie if you do this, huh? Huh?”

Jamie quietly switches the game off, trying not to listen to Tyler’s obnoxiously soft dog voice. Grabbing the controller Tyler was using, Jamie tidies up a little, ignoring the fact he can feel Tyler’s gaze on him as he moves around the space. Settling back down on the couch, Jamie laughs as Cash clambers up to join him, head resting on Jamie’s thigh.

“Hey,” Jamie says to Cash softly as he takes out his phone to check his messages, laughing when Cash licks his hand enthusiastically. “Good to see you too,” he says, rubbing Cash down. Jessi’s sent him some photos of Billie and he saves them, still amazed at how much of a little person she’s turning into. There’s a few emails from Bayne that look important, and he saves them for later, not particularly wanting to think about anything serious right now, before he slips his phone back in his pocket.

“Feed me,” Tyler whines from his position on the floor, Gerry in his arms and Marshall dozing at his feet. It’s a familiar sight, one that Jamie had got used to seeing over the years, but between the compressed season and everything going on with Tyler’s injuries, he hasn’t seen it for a while. It looks a lot like home and that—. That’s a little terrifying.

“Feed yourself,” Jamie retorts. Not his best work, but Tyler’s pouting at him, still ignoring the buzz of his phone and—. “You should really answer that,” Jamie says, fingers stroking over Cash’s fur.

“Nope,” Tyler says. “I shouldn’t.”

“Ty—”

“It’s fine.”

Jamie eyes him, wondering if he should say something, if he should push Tyler to make a decision, but in the end he leaves it alone. If Tyler wants to make his relationship a mess, that’s his business. Not like Jamie can offer any advice. “I got steaks in the fridge,” he says after a beat. “Or chicken.”

“Tired of chicken,” Tyler says, wrinkling his nose. “Steaks sound good.”

“Okay then,” Jamie says. “Go and replace the beer you drank last time, and you can have steak.”

“Shit,” Tyler says, laughing. “Okay,” he says, jumping up from the floor. “I’m leaving the kids here, and you’d better do those potatoes I like.”

“Just go,” Jamie says, shaking his head as Tyler raises a hand in goodbye.

Jamie doesn’t realise Tyler’s left his phone behind until it starts buzzing violently on the table. Shifting Cash off his lap with some effort, Jamie glances at it, not exactly surprised when all the notifications are from the same person. He stares at the screen until the call ends, and then it lights up again with text after text, and Jamie—. Well. He’s not going to tell Tyler he saw those coming in. Not that he thinks Tyler would care, but it feels wrong, somehow, for Jamie to see Tyler being berated over text without Tyler knowing.

But then, given the fact Tyler’s been ignoring his phone all afternoon after apparently failing to break up with his girlfriend and fucking her instead, he probably deserves it.

In his bitchier moments, Jamie sometimes wonders if this entire thing came about because it was too hard to get a dog sitter and Tyler couldn’t bring himself to give up regular sex during a pandemic, and whenever he does think that, he gets Tyson’s voice in his head telling him that’s the kind of thought that belongs on Bravo. Jamie really, really wishes he didn’t understand that reference, but one too many Housewives marathons with Katie has made sure he does.

Glancing down at where Gerry’s resting his paws on Jamie’s knees, Jamie rolls his eyes. “Your dad’s an idiot,” he says, brushing a hand over Gerry’s head, smiling when Gerry licks his hand. “Guess you’re staying for dinner too.”

*

Tyler brings back a lot of beer, more than Jamie was expecting, and he resigns himself to it being that kind of night. He generally likes drinking with Tyler, but this feels less like a night of fun, and more like Tyler trying to ignore his life. Which Jamie can’t exactly judge, but he hadn’t been prepared for it when he woke up this morning. He should’ve adjusted his expectations when he saw Tyler on his doorstep, probably.

He gets the steaks on the grill before they really start drinking, and the way Tyler’s face lights up when he realises that Jamie did make the potatoes the way he likes makes Jamie’s chest feel warm. Before long though, the plates have been discarded, the dogs are alternating between dozing on the loungers by the pool and chasing each other around Jamie’s back yard, and Tyler and Jamie are sitting on the comfortable patio chairs Jamie’s sure he paid way too much for with a collection of empty beer bottles between them and a bottle of whiskey on the table.

There’s no way this doesn’t end in Tyler too drunk to drive home, and Jamie should say something, should make Tyler go home and face his shit or whatever, but the selfish part of him that’s missed his best friend all season long wins out and he says nothing. He tries to excuse it in his mind, thinks about how Tyler struggled with his injuries and rehab and not knowing if he’d ever be back. It’s the captainly thing for Jamie to do, to check in on Tyler and make sure he’s okay, but if Jamie’s honest with himself, he just likes the idea of Tyler being in Jamie’s house like it’s where he belongs.

The house has been too empty since Katie left, and Jamie’s lost track of the amount of days where he’d walk through the house wondering why the fuck he had so much space. It had been aspirational when he bought it, or some fucking buzzword like that. A hazy vision of what his future was meant to be. Get engaged, get married, fill the house with kids. Now, though, it’s just a bunch of rooms he doesn’t go into and a couch he falls asleep on by himself more nights than is wise.

“You’re quiet,” Tyler says, grabbing Jamie’s attention. Gerry’s resting against Tyler’s chest, curled up like a baby in Tyler’s arms, and the sight makes Jamie smile. “More’n usual.”

“S’nothing,” Jamie says. “Enjoying being home.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, scrunching up his brow. “Why?”

Tyler shrugs, taking a sip of the whiskey in his solo cup because Jamie wasn’t risking actual glassware on this. “Figured between not having playoffs and the whole break up thing, I don’t know.” Tyler pauses, his eyes lowering as he mouths at the rim of his cup. “Kinda didn’t know if you wanted to be here.”

“Dallas is home,” Jamie says before taking a swig of his beer. He’s lost track of how many he’s had, which is probably a bad sign, but it’s not like he can change it. “Yeah, I’d like to be in the playoffs, of course I would, you know that, how could—” Jamie breaks off and shrugs. “You’re the one always tellin’ me to stop thinking about shit.”

“This the new and improved Jamie Benn?”

Jamie snorts. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Says the man hiding from his girlfriend,” Jamie chirps, before seeing Tyler’s eyes cloud over. “Sorry,” he says, reaching over and nudging Tyler’s knee with his hand. “Didn’t mean to—”

“You’re not wrong,” Tyler says, his cheeks rosy as he leans forward, carefully cradling Gerry against him as he grabs the whiskey bottle, leaving his cup on the table. “It’s shitty of me, but—” Tyler kisses Gerry’s head. “Got my boys, don’t I?”

“Jesus Christ,” Jamie mutters, a small smile on his face.

“All these years and you don’t want to be one of my boys?” Tyler looks at him, a pout on his lips, and Jamie shakes his head.

“You’re a pain.”

“I’m a fucking delight, Jameson,” Tyler says, tipping the bottle in Jamie’s direction. “Your life got better when I came here.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jamie says, laughing when Tyler’s pout gets more exaggerated. “Idiot,” he says fondly, returning the smile Tyler gives him.

“You love me, Chubbs,” Tyler says easily.

The last shreds of Jamie’s sobriety recognises that anything he could say would be a little too honest, and instead of responding, he reaches down to scratch behind Marshall’s ears where he’s slumped against Jamie’s feet. “Good boy,” he mumbles, the few whiskey shots he’d taken before Tyler commandeered the bottle warming him from the inside out.

“Hey,” Tyler says suddenly. “Can I stay here?”

Jamie frowns as he straightens up and looks at Tyler. “You don’t have to ask,” he says. “Like I’d let you go home like this.”

“M’fine,” Tyler says, his face buried against Gerry’s scruff. “I could go home. I have apps.”

“Do you want to go home?”

There’s a long pause before Tyler shakes his head slowly. “No,” he says, almost too quiet for Jamie to hear.

“Then stay,” Jamie says. “Not like I don’t have the space.”

Jamie’s seen Tyler more intoxicated than he is right now but, as they bring everything inside, he can see Tyler listing against the wall. It’s not the alcohol making Tyler look so hollowed out, and Jamie would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He quickly gets the plates in the dishwasher to deal with tomorrow and recaps the whiskey bottle. The remaining beers are still in the cooler and Jamie checks there’s enough water in the dog bowls before he crosses through the kitchen to where Tyler’s struggling to keep himself awake.

“Hey,” Jamie says quietly. “Let's get you upstairs.”

There’s a soft murmur from Tyler and he leans his not inconsiderable weight on Jamie as Jamie walks them both over to the stairs, the dogs following close behind them.

“Sorry,” Tyler says when they make it to the guest room. “Didn’t mean to—I’m not that drunk.”

“I know,” Jamie says easily as Tyler walks over to the bed and sits on the edge, running his hands through his hair. “Segs, if you—”

“What? If I want to talk?” Tyler lets out a hollow laugh. “Fuck if I even know what to say.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, nonsensically as the dogs push past him, Gerry jumping up onto the bed. “You got anything on tomorrow?”

Tyler shrugs as Gerry pushes underneath his arm. “No. Maybe. Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Sounds like you’re kind of a mess,” Jamie says, a small smile on his face.

“Fuck off,” Tyler laughs. “Let me sleep.”

“Sure,” Jamie says, looking Tyler over once more. “You know you—” he breaks off with a sigh. “Everything’s where you left it,” he says after a moment. “See you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Tyler says. “Hey, Jamie?”

Jamie pauses at the doorway and looks back. “Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Tyler says. “Like—” Tyler lets out a heavy breath. “These last few months sucked, so. Thanks. Almost felt normal tonight.”

“Anytime, dude,” Jamie says, his voice soft. “You know that. G’night.”

“Night.”

Jamie pulls the door closed, and he takes the short walk to his own bedroom. He hasn’t drunk enough to have a hangover tomorrow, but he still opens the mini fridge in his room and pulls out a bottle of water, downing it in several long gulps. Jamie wonders if Tyler will still be here in the morning, or if he’ll get woken up by the soft rattling of the dogs’ tags and Tyler stumbling over the ottomon in the hall that he always forgets is there as he sneaks out as if tonight has been a regrettable one night stand.

Brushing his teeth after stripping his clothes off, Jamie glares at himself in the mirror. All he’s doing is being there for a friend. That’s it. Tyler’s still, technically, in a relationship. Not that even if he weren’t there would be anything—.

“Fuck,” Jamie breathes out after he’s splashed some water on his face, droplets falling from his beard and running down his chest. He might not have drunk as much as Tyler, but he’s had enough to get melancholy and reckless, and that’s a sign he needs to pass out as soon as possible.

Slipping under the comforter, Jamie stares up at the ceiling for several long moments before he turns on his side and tries to get to sleep.

*

The morning brings a dishevelled Tyler in a pair of sweatpants he’d left at Jamie’s last year, no shirt, and Jamie trying not to do something really fucking stupid as he makes coffee for them both.

“We should go out,” Tyler says, watching the dogs chow down on their breakfast because Jamie still keeps food for them in the house like a sucker. “You cooked last night, so we should go out.”

“You learnt to cook,” Jamie says, sipping his coffee. “Make me breakfast.”

“Why would I do that when I can pay someone to make both of us breakfast?”

Jamie thinks that sentence says a lot about Tyler as a person, but he’s not going to say that out loud. Instead he raises an eyebrow before he looks away. “I’m not going to be your excuse not to go home,” he says. “That’s not—I don’t want that.”

“You’re not,” Tyler says instantly. “Jamie, you’re not, c’mon.”

“Sure about that?” Jamie asks, meeting Tyler’s eyes. “You’re doing pretty well avoiding going home.”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, scrubbing a hand over his curls. “Okay, I am. But you’re not an excuse, I wouldn’t—that’s not—I wouldn’t use you like that.”

Burying the urge to ask Tyler how he would use him, because that doesn’t feel like an easy chirp anymore, Jamie drinks his coffee and scratches Cash’s head when he wanders over seeking out attention. Tyler’s looking at him as if he needs some kind of reassurance that Jamie believes him, and Jamie doesn’t know if he can give him that right now.

“Jamie,” Tyler says softly. “I missed you. Is it so hard for you to believe I want to hang out with you?”

“Don’t turn this on me,” Jamie says sharply, looking at Tyler. “It’s not about me, and you know it.”

“Sorry,” Tyler sighs. “I didn’t—look, can we please go for breakfast? I’ll go home after that if you really want me to.”

“Not about what I want.”

“Oh my god, Chubbs, will you just let me buy you breakfast burritos? Please.”

Jamie shrugs and takes a drink of his coffee. “All you had to do was ask, Segs.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Tyler says, laughing. “Can I steal a shirt?”

“Shocking that you didn’t leave a shirt here,” Jamie says, dodging the paper towel that Tyler throws at him. “Really, I’m amazed.”

“Jamie,” Tyler whines, aiming a pout at him. “Lemme borrow a shirt, come on.”

“You know where they are.”

By the time they make it out of Jamie’s house after dealing with the dogs, it’s nearer to lunch and Tyler’s got an old Fender t-shirt of Jamie’s on. It’s faded with wear and age, fitting Tyler’s shoulders but hanging loose almost everywhere else, and Jamie fixes his eyes on the road to stop himself from staring at him.

“I should go home,” Tyler says, staring at his phone in the passenger seat as Jamie drives on the tollway. “I—shit.”

Jamie bites his bottom lip for a moment before he glances over at Tyler. “Let's go eat,” he says. “Dogs are still at mine, your car is still at mine, it’s not—. We’ll eat.”

“I guess,” Tyler says, running a hand over his face. “Shit, not like I can make this worse.”

Jamie’s pretty sure Tyler could make this situation a lot worse, actually, but he refrains from saying it. He lets Tyler change the playlist to something loud and concentrates on driving.

“You good?” Jamie asks when they get to the restaurant. It’s a dive, really, discovered back when they were still living in the same building and in need of good hangover food. They don’t go back to it that often anymore, but there’s only one place Tyler means when he suggests breakfast burritos.

“As much as I’m gonna be,” Tyler says with a shrug before he climbs out of the car, tucking his phone in his pocket.

Jamie follows him and soon they’re settled at a table outside, legs naturally sliding together underneath the small table like they’ve done a thousand times before. Tyler’s tapping his fingers against the table in a disjointed rhythm and Jamie wants to grab his hand and make him stop, but that’s not—. It’s not his place, and he knows it. He wants it to be, or at least, he used to want it to be, before Katie, before he and Tyler put all these years of friendship behind them to the point where even if Tyler were single, Jamie would still be too damn tied up in himself to do anything about it.

Back then, Jamie knew he couldn’t do anything because it would screw up the team, because neither of them were mature enough to handle doing something without it imploding and because—because you just can’t do that in the NHL when you’re the faces of a franchise. Jamie’s not bitter about it, he knows now that anything they started back then probably would’ve been a fucking mess, but sometimes he wonders what would’ve happened if they’d risked it all and made that choice.

He’d loved Katie, he really had, and his—whatever he’d been feeling for Tyler back then got put in a box because he didn’t need to deal with it while he had Katie. But then, when he and Katie had been off and Tyler hadn’t had anyone on call, there’d been moments where they’d press a little too close on nights out, where they’d hold a gaze a little too long, where Tyler would touch him a little more than usual and Jamie would never push him away, but they never pushed it any further. Because doing something about it would’ve made it real, and that—that was terrifying to Jamie. Still kind of is, if he’s honest with himself.

“Are you—” Jamie breaks off and shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “Doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Jamie says. “None of my business. What are you ordering?”

“The same thing I order every time we come here,” Tyler says, nudging Jamie under the table with his knee. “Don’t do that. Talk to me.”

“I just—are you happy?” Jamie asks, not looking up from the plastic covered menu, even though he knows what he’s getting. “That’s all.”

“Oh that’s all? Shit, Jamie, you couldn’t ask me something easier? Like if I actually did have an emergency abortion fund? Or if I was verging on alcoholism when Boston traded me?”

“Hey,” Jamie says firmly but quietly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t know,” Tyler interrupts, his voice carrying a little. “That’s the answer.” He slumps back in his seat and fiddles with the plastic fork on the table before glancing at Jamie. “That’s probably bad, right?”

“It’s not good,” Jamie says, putting the menu down and looking at Tyler. “Look, we don’t have to—” Jamie breaks off and shrugs. “It’s not like we talk about shit like this.”

“Maybe we should,” Tyler says. “Probably healthier if we do.”

“We do it when we’re drunk,” Jamie says, nudging Tyler with his knee. “Think that counts?”

Tyler laughs, corners of his eyes crinkling. “I don’t know,” he says. “But I could change. I started meditating, you know.”

“I do know,” Jamie says with a small smile. “Seems like it’s working for you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re chirping me or not.”

“I’m not,” Jamie says. “I’m glad you found something to help.”

“Doesn’t answer your question, does it?”

“Didn’t ask the question, so it doesn’t matter.”

Tyler makes a frustrated noise, and for a moment Jamie thinks he’s going to get kicked under the table, but then the waiter comes over and they put their orders in.

There’s quiet between them after the waiter leaves, only the sound of other customers chatting and background music playing as Jamie looks at Tyler, wondering what to say. “I don’t—I’m not asking to make you feel bad.”

“I know,” Tyler says, his face softening as he looks at Jamie. “I know, Jamie, I—shit, this is why we don’t talk about this.”

“That and, according to Jessi, all professional athletes are emotionally stunted,” Jamie says, finger tracing the condensation on his water glass.

Tyler laughs, taking his hat off to smooth his hair down before replacing it. “I don’t think I can argue with her.”

“I don’t think you should,” Jamie says with wide eyes. “She still scares me a little.”

“Yeah,” Tyler says. “Jordie did good there.”

“That he did,” Jamie says. “Totally out of his league, and he knows it. Look I’m not—it’s not about whatever you’ve got going on at home—”

“Isn’t it?” Tyler interrupts. “Kinda feels like whatever I have going on there affects the rest of it, right?”

“Happy wife, happy life?” Jamie says, because he’s an asshole.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tyler responds, but he’s laughing, hands rubbing against his chest, fingers pressing against the faded logo on the shirt, and Jamie tries not to stare at the soft flex of Tyler’s muscles. “It’s like. I mean, I went through this huge thing, and I—it fucked me up, you know it did.”

Jamie nods, because he does know. He’d felt useless being in Dallas while Tyler rehabbed back in Canada, and even when he’d come back home Jamie had been on the road more often than not and they’d barely seen each other until Tyler started travelling with the team. There'd been texts, though, and FaceTime, and the small knot in Jamie’s chest growing tighter each time Tyler expressed his doubt at being able to get back to who he was before the injuries and multiple surgeries.

“It’s like, I’m contemplating everything,” Tyler says. “Reevaluating what I want my life to be like, and it’s—” Tyler pauses and makes a face. “It’s really fucking hard.”

Jamie laughs at the look on Tyler’s face, all scrunched up in frustration. “What part of reevaluating your life sounded easy?”

“I didn’t realise I was doing it until I was actually thinking about it,” Tyler says. “Like. Hockey’s easy, that’s still the biggest and most important part of my life,” he says emphatically. “I still want to play, I’m gonna fight my hardest for us to get a cup together, I still want that. I—that didn’t need reevaluating.”

“Good to hear it,” Jamie says, a warmth in his chest when Tyler shoots him a pleased smile.

“But then there’s my—oh sweet,” Tyler looks at the waiter and flashes him a grin. “Thanks dude, I was about to eat my hat.”

Jamie shakes his head, quietly thanking the waiter before he digs in. Tyler doesn’t pick up where he left off in favour of making noises over his breakfast burrito with extra sausage, and Jamie doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or not.

*

When they get back to the house, Jamie can tell Tyler’s still stalling, and he doesn’t do anything to stop him even though he knows he should. It’s hard to send him away knowing that the house will go back to being too fucking quiet once he and the dogs are gone, and it’s even harder to send him away when Jamie’s spent most of the last six months missing him.

Jamie’s a fucking terrible friend, objectively.

“Has it got hotter?” Tyler asks, having already stripped off his shirt when they got back despite the AC going. “I think it’s got hotter.”

Jamie shrugs, eyes skirting over Tyler’s chest. “Pool’s cool,” he says. “Think there’s trunks in your room.”

“Thought you wanted me to go home,” Tyler says, eyeing him from the couch, one hand scratching Marshall’s belly.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Jamie.”

“I’m getting in the pool,” Jamie says, turning away from Tyler and heading for the stairs so he can change. “And I’m having a beer. You can do what you want.”

Jamie doesn’t expect Tyler to follow him up the stairs, but he does, and when Jamie comes out of his bedroom he finds Tyler waiting for him in the Givenchy swim shorts he left at Jamie’s after the training set up during the season pause last year.

“This okay?” Tyler asks, as if he’s expecting Jamie to change his mind and kick him out.

“Course it is,” Jamie says. “I’ll get the beers.”

The initial competitive lap swimming dies off after Gerry jumps in the pool with them, and before too long they’re just leaning against the side of the pool and working their way through the beer. Jamie’s got one of his country playlists on, the dogs are lazing in the shade, and if it weren’t for the reason Tyler’s dragging out hanging at the house, Jamie would think this is somewhere pretty close to perfect.

“He’s gonna stink,” Tyler says, looking at Gerry rolling around on the grass now he’s out of the pool.

“Like father, like son,” Jamie says, laughing when Tyler splashes him. “Watch my beer!”

“I smell fucking amazing,” Tyler says, swimming over and grabbing at Jamie’s leg. “Come here, smell me.”

“Fuck no,” Jamie dodges out of the way, holding his beer up out of the water. “I’ve smelt you, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m literally in a body of water,” Tyler says, closing the gap and face washing Jamie, laughing when Jamie splutters. “It’s like showering.”

“I don’t know who told you that, but swimming in a pool is not like showering,” Jamie says. “I’m actually concerned that you believe that.”

“Shut up,” Tyler says, pouting slightly as he reaches out and pokes Jamie. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yep,” Jamie says, before taking a swig of his beer and putting it on the side of the pool. He looks down to where Tyler’s fingers are lingering on his bicep before looking back up and meeting Tyler’s eyes. There’s a heat there that Jamie hasn’t seen since the last time they were both single, when they pushed the boundaries of what could be considered friendship without ever actually doing anything, and Jamie—.

Jamie shouldn’t have to keep reminding himself that Tyler isn’t actually single.

Tyler’s hand is still on him, fingers trailing up and down Jamie’s arm like he’s tracing the lines of Jamie’s tattoos, and it’s like the entire fucking world around them has shrunk down to this and only this. The sun’s beating down on Jamie’s skin, but it’s nothing compared to heat licking under his skin with Tyler’s touch.

“I, uh—I’m gonna get out,” Jamie says, not breaking away from Tyler’s gaze. “I should—”

“Jamie,” Tyler says softly, his hand grasping Jamie’s wrist under the water.

Jamie looks down, the view blurry through the water, and he can feel the brush of Tyler’s legs against his as Tyler inches closer. When Jamie looks up again, Tyler’s face is so close, too fucking close, his eyes dark, and Jamie’s mouth unconsciously slips open. It seems like that’s all Tyler was waiting for because the next thing Jamie knows, Tyler’s mouth is on his and Jamie’s entire fucking body is on fire. Tyler’s hand is still on Jamie’s wrist, holding hard enough to bruise, and Jamie can’t stop his free hand from curving around Tyler’s hip, the tips of his fingers slipping into the waistband of Tyler’s swim shorts, but not daring to slide any lower.

Tyler’s pressing closer as they kiss, and Jamie can hear the soft splash of the water as he’s pushed against the pool wall, and—. “Shit,” he mumbles against Tyler’s mouth before he jerks his head away. “Tyler, we can’t—”

“Please,” Tyler says, not letting go of Jamie’s wrist, his lips brushing over Jamie’s mouth. “Jamie, I—”

“No,” Jamie whispers, gently but firmly pulling away from Tyler’s grip, a hitch in his breath when Tyler rests his face against Jamie’s shoulder, both of them breathing heavily. “I can’t,” Jamie says thickly. “Not when you’re—Kate.”

After a moment Tyler lifts his head, his jaw set in a way that makes Jamie worry he should be bracing for a punch. “Funny time for you to suddenly be concerned about cheating,” Tyler says. “Considering everything with Katie. You don’t get to—”

“Fuck you,” Jamie says, pushing Tyler away with a little more force than he should, the comment stinging hard. “You—Tyler,” Jamie says helplessly, locking eyes with Tyler before he lets out a sigh at the challenging look on Tyler’s face. Jamie turns away from him, and all he can think about is getting away from Tyler as quickly as possible. Placing his hands on the side of the pool, Jamie climbs out, ignoring the way Cash comes running up to him when he’s out of the water. Leaving everything behind, Jamie stalks back into the house, heading straight to his bedroom like a goddamn teenager.

Reaching his room, Jamie closes the door behind him and heads to the ensuite, wanting to wash everything that’s just happened off his skin. Shedding his swim shorts, Jamie switches the shower on and steps under the water, letting the pressure hit his muscles as he closes his eyes and ducks his head under the spray. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fuck.”

That wasn’t meant to happen. At all.

But now it has and Jamie knows, in his bones, that they can’t go back. He doesn’t even know if he wants to go back. All Jamie can think about is the feel of Tyler’s mouth on his, how his skin felt pressed up against him, and—shit. Shit.

When he gets out of the shower, Jamie dries off and pulls on some shorts before he sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Jamie doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there before there’s a tentative knock at the door, and he—it can’t be anyone but Tyler, but Jamie can’t—.

“Jamie? Can I—shit. I’m sorry,” Tyler says. “I shouldn’t have said that. Could you—fuck, I’d really like to see your face, but I get if you—down Gerry, down. I guess I—look, I’m not gonna come in unless you ask me to, so I guess I’m going to go home and fix my life, or something, I’ll text you. You don’t have to—.” There’s a thud against the door that sounds like Tyler’s forehead hitting the wood. “I missed you,” Tyler says quietly. “Like a lot. I want you to know that. I hope you’re actually in there and I’m not like, talking to no one. Fuck. Okay. I—I’m gonna go.”

And Jamie lets him leave.

*

Jamie doesn’t remember falling asleep after Tyler leaves, but he wakes up with a headache and a churning in his gut from not eating anything since the lunchtime burritos with Tyler. The sun is low outside, and Jamie fumbles for his phone before remembering he must’ve left it by the pool when he walked away from Tyler. Staring up at the ceiling, he sighs heavily before he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and gets up.

The house is quiet as Jamie makes his way down the stairs, and when he walks into the kitchen, he realises Tyler closed everything up before he left, that he even brought the empty beer bottles in and put them in the recycling bin. Jamie stares at that for a moment, an ache in his chest that he wishes he didn’t have, before his stomach rumbles and he ducks his head into the fridge to try and find something to eat.

Nothing appeals, but he has some meals in the freezer from the nutritional meal service he sometimes uses; he pulls one out and nukes it, eating it standing up at the kitchen island because anything else seems like too much effort. It tastes like nothing, but it stops his stomach protesting, and Jamie quickly finishes it before he grabs a beer from the fridge. Walking through the house, Jamie spots his phone on the table by the couch and he pauses for a moment before he picks it up and sits on the couch, sinking back into the cushions and taking a swig of his beer before putting it on the side table.

There’s nothing from Tyler, and Jamie tries not to put too much on that considering what Tyler said he was going home to do. It hasn’t been that long, it’s not even dark yet, but Jamie—he can’t stop himself from wondering if Tyler’s actually breaking up with her, or if he’s failing in the same way he did before. Swallowing, Jamie tries not to think about it, instead replying to texts from other friends before opening Instagram to kill some time.

Jamie’s not expecting to see a photo of Tyler in a zip Stars hoodie at the top of his feed. He’s expecting even less for it to be his hoodie, a 14 over the right side of Tyler’s chest, and the immediate possessiveness that spikes in his body takes Jamie by surprise. Glancing at the caption, ‘borrowing clothes from the liney’, Jamie double taps the photo instinctively before looking at it closer. Tyler’s in his car, posted an hour ago, and Jamie’s at a complete loss as to what the fuck is going on. Tyler tries to be careful now with what he posts, nothing he shares is by accident, so him posting this after earlier is—it’s something, even if Jamie doesn’t know what the fuck it is.

There’s a really easy way for Jamie to find out, and he swipes out of the app, opening his message thread with Tyler. He types and erases over and over again, not sure what he wants to say. This isn’t something that Jamie really wants to do over text, he wants to hear Tyler’s voice, but Jamie also doesn’t want to call and interrupt something he doesn’t want to interrupt.

Shifting on the couch, Jamie closes his eyes for a moment, trying to get his thoughts together. Part of him thinks he shouldn’t have reacted the way he did, it’s not like Tyler didn’t have a point, but the kiss had left Jamie so fucking raw that he’s pretty sure anything Tyler said would’ve hit the wrong way. Looking back down at his darkened phone, Jamie taps it and pauses before he starts typing again.

‘I heard you. I missed you as well. Call me when you’ve figured shit out. I don’t hate you.’

Jamie stares at it before he shakes his head. “Best I can do,” he mumbles to himself before pressing send.

It takes all of thirty seconds after the message is delivered for Jamie’s phone to ring, Tyler’s name flashing on his screen.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler says when Jamie answers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Kissed me?”

“No. I mean, I guess technically, but—” Tyler breaks off and sighs. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, y’know, afterwards.”

“Not like it wasn’t true,” Jamie says, picking at a thread on his shorts.

Tyler lets out an exasperated noise. “Yeah, but you don’t say things like that to your best friend,” he says. “That was shitty of me.” There’s a pause before Tyler continues. “I wanted to kiss you,” he says. “But then I—you were right to stop us, but I thought I’d—I was scared that—”

“Tyler.”

“I did it,” Tyler says quietly. “Broke up with her, I mean. It sucked.”

“Sorry,” Jamie says, not entirely sure if he is sorry or not, but it seems like the thing he should say. “Where are—I mean, are you at home?”

“Yeah. She’s gone to a hotel,” Tyler sighs. “I think I made it worse, coming home in your clothes, she was pretty pissed. Said some stuff I couldn’t deny.”

“I saw your insta,” Jamie says, wondering what it was Kate said to Tyler that he couldn’t deny. “You—I don’t—what were you doing?”

“Being an asshole, mostly,” Tyler says. “I don’t know, your hoodie was on the chair when I was leaving and I just wanted—fuck, Jamie, I really did miss you, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, swallowing. “I know. This season, I—shit, Segs, it wasn’t the same without you.”

“I don’t even remember driving home, but I sat in the driveway pissed as all hell at myself because I thought—” Tyler breaks off and Jamie can hear his breathing, like he’s trying to get himself under control. “It would suck if that’s how I lost you.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Jamie—”

“It’s not,” Jamie interrupts. “I don’t—fuck, I’m not good at this, you know I’m not, but you gotta know that I—you gotta know.” He hates that he sounds like he’s pleading, and he wishes he could find the words that Tyler needs to hear, but that’s always been part of their problem.

“I don’t know what we are,” Tyler says in frustration. “You’re my best friend, but that’s—that’s not all, right?”

“Right.”

“You say that, but I don’t even know what you want.”

Jamie doesn’t know how to answer that. He’s spent so many years working on locking away any non platonic feelings for Tyler that being asked to express it is—it’s fucking confusing. And hard. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he says carefully. “You just broke up with Kate, and if we—I don’t want—”

“Don’t use that as an excuse,” Tyler interrupts. “That’s not—you know what we are has nothing to do with anyone else, Jamie, you know that. Don’t try and say you don’t. I just—I want to know if we even have a shot here, dude.”

“Of course we do,” Jamie says without hesitation. “It’s been—I haven’t let myself think about it in a long time.”

There’s a short laugh down the line from Tyler. “Well. Same.”

Jamie can’t help the smile that crosses his mouth. “So what do we do now?”

“I’d kinda like to kiss you without insulting you or you pushing me away,” Tyler says, and Jamie would swear he can hear the grin in his voice. “We could start there.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jamie says, unable to keep the fond out of his voice. “But yeah, I’d like that too. More than that.”

“You tryin’ to get some phone sex happening here, Chubbs?”

Jamie’s cheeks heat up, and he rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Did you hear me objecting? FaceTime me, lemme see your dick.”

“You’re all class,” Jamie says, a lightness in him he hasn’t felt in—he doesn’t even remember how long. Way before this season started, probably longer than that.

“Is that a yes?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“And yet you still wanna date me.”

Tyler’s quiet on the end of the line for a moment. “Yeah,” Tyler says eventually, his voice softer than Jamie’s ever heard it outside of talking to the dogs. “I really do. I’m gonna have to sort shit out but after that? I’m gonna date the shit outta you, Jamie Benn.”

*

Between Tyler having to deal with his ex, and Jamie having plans, they don’t see each other for almost a week after they talk, and if it weren’t for the increasingly explicit texts Tyler’s been sending him, Jamie would be wondering if he imagined the entire situation. Instead he keeps waking up to photos on his phone that have him jerking off before he’s even really awake, leaving him cursing Tyler out even as he comes hard to a picture of Tyler’s hard dick peeking out of his boxers.

No one ever said Tyler Seguin did subtle.

Jamie’s not been sitting around his house waiting for Tyler, he’s had other things to do, but it’s been a constant feel like he’s missing something while he’s been occupying himself. He’s hung out with his niece, he’s seen friends, he’s been enjoying the off season before training camp starts looming in the background, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t missing Tyler. That he’s been missing Tyler for a long time. Knowing that they’re going to try this, try and be a them, is making him impatient, and part of him wants to go over to Tyler’s and drag him back to the house.

But then he gets home from Courts’ birthday party and finds Tyler in his kitchen and it’s—. Well, Jamie’s a little concerned, but it also just feels right.

“Hi,” Jamie says, watching as Tyler spins on his heel, a wide smile on his face when he sees Jamie.

“Hey,” Tyler says. He’s got a bright green apron on that Jamie thinks Jessi and Jordie bought him as a gag gift when he moved in, but somehow Tyler makes it work. There’s a pot bubbling away on the stove, the oven is going, and Jamie’s partly wondering if he’s time travelled several years in his future.

“What are you—did we have plans?”

“No,” Tyler says, shrugging before he turns and stirs the pot on the stove. “I got Jessi to text me when you were coming home. Surprise?”

“That’s why she kept stealing food from me,” Jamie says absently, taking a few more steps into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Tyler shrugs. “I wanted to,” he says quietly. “It’s kind of my fault we haven’t—” Tyler breaks off and Jamie can see a slight flush on the back of his neck, and Jamie just—.

Walking over, Jamie places a hand at the small of Tyler’s back above where the apron is fastened, and he presses a kiss against Tyler’s neck, breathing him in. Smiling when he hears the small intake of breath from Tyler, Jamie slides a hand over Tyler’s hip. “Thank you,” he says. “Smells good, whatever you’re making.”

“Chicken, pasta, and veggie sauce,” Tyler says, leaning against Jamie. “Like one of six things I can make without help.”

Jamie laughs, squeezing Tyler’s hip lightly. “Anything I can do?”

“Nothing that’ll help get dinner ready,” Tyler says, turning his head to meet Jamie’s eyes, a slight smile on his face. “Ask me again later.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks, eyes dropping to Tyler’s lips. “Sure I can’t—”

Jamie’s not entirely caught off guard when Tyler leans in, but it’s still—all they had before this was that one broken kiss in the pool, and now he’s suddenly got an armful of Tyler enthusiastically kissing him, and it’s a completely overwhelming attack on all his senses.

Sliding a hand down Tyler’s body, Jamie grips both of Tyler’s hips firmly as they kiss, holding him in place and dragging out noises from him that Jamie never even dreamt he’d get to hear Tyler make. Dragging Tyler away from the stove, Jamie pushes him up against the counter, swallowing the groan Tyler lets out at the impact as Jamie keeps kissing him.

“Shit, Jamie, I—the food,” Tyler mumbles against Jamie’s mouth between kisses, his hands tugging Jamie’s toque off before he runs his fingers through Jamie’s hair, pulling lightly at the ends.

Jamie nips at Tyler’s bottom lip before brushing their noses together, and he barely suppresses a noise of protest when Tyler breaks away.

“Food,” Tyler says, resting his hands on Jamie’s shoulders. “It’s gonna burn, and I—” Tyler’s cheeks are flushed and Jamie can’t tell if it’s from what they’ve been doing or embarrassment.

“What?” Jamie asks, fingers stroking against Tyler’s skin where he’s pushed Tyler’s shirt up. “Hey, what is it?”

“I just—I want this to be good,” Tyler says. “Like, we’re adults, right?”

“Legally? Yeah. Probably debatable though,” Jamie says, laughing when Tyler rolls his eyes. “Sure, we’re adults. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Tyler shrugs, his fingers smoothing the line of Jamie’s shirt over his shoulders. “This isn’t—we’re on the same page here, right? Like if we’re doing this then we’re really doing this?”

“I—yes?”

“Convincing,” Tyler says, taking a step back from Jamie when the oven goes off.

“Tyler, I don’t know what you’re asking,” Jamie says as Tyler checks the chicken. “But I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t real. Shit, do you have any idea—” Jamie shakes his head as Tyler closes the oven door and turns around.

“What?”

“Do you really think I’d risk any of—that I’d risk you on a quick fuck?”

“I don’t—” Tyler breaks off, reaching behind himself and untying the apron strings before tugging it over his head and dropping it on the counter. Leaning against the kitchen island, Tyler shrugs. “In my defence, it’s not like we talked about this.”

“That’s... fair,” Jamie says with a slight nod.

“You’re in this, like really for real in this?”

“It’s us, Tyler,” Jamie says, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think there’s any other way for this to be.”

“Oh.”

“Did you really think I’d say something else?”

There’s a wide smile on Tyler’s face as he shakes his head. “No. I don’t know. I just—it’s been stressful in my head since we—you know?”

“Is that why my phone has so many photos of your dick?”

“Maybe. And I wanted you to know that I’m super fucking into you, dude,” Tyler says. “Like really into you.”

Jamie laughs, and he closes the small gap between them, watching the way Tyler’s eyes widen. “Good,” he says. “Because I’m kinda really into you as well.”

“Oh, that’s romantic.”

“Shut up,” Jamie says, smiling as he rests his hands against the kitchen island, caging Tyler in. “If you weren’t so determined to make this dinner, I’d—” Jamie breaks off and looks away for a moment, biting his bottom lip.

“What?” Tyler asks, his hands sliding underneath Jamie’s shirt. “You’d what? Jerk me off? Get me down on my knees? Bend me over the counter?”

Jamie laughs, pressing a little closer. “That what you’ve been thinking about while waiting for me?”

“Dude, it’s what I’ve been thinking about for years,” Tyler says, his face open and honest, and that—it’s a lot for Jamie to take, and all he can think to do is kiss him.

Tyler’s mouth opens with the slightest bit of pressure, and Jamie can’t stop thinking about everything he’s kept locked away for so many years. He wants this, so much. He wants to kiss Tyler whenever he gets the urge, wants to be the one grumpily making coffee in the morning with Tyler draped over him. He wants to take him back home as his, show him Victoria, watch Tyler play with his nieces, and—. “I want everything with you,” he mumbles against Tyler’s mouth, unable to keep it in, needing Tyler to know just how deep he’s in this.

“Yeah,” Tyler says, resting their foreheads together, his hands pressing against Jamie’s lower back. “Yeah, Jamie, me too. Everything.”

There’s a look in Tyler’s eyes that Jamie’s never seen before, and he’s about to haul Tyler in for another kiss when the timer goes off, making them both jump. Shaking his head, Jamie kisses Tyler one more time before backing off, letting him go to sort out dinner. “Do you—I could help?”

“Uh, plates?” Tyler asks, mixing the sauce and pasta together. “That’d probably help.”

Jamie smiles to himself and walks over to the cupboard. “Where are the boys?” Jamie asks when he realises they haven’t been interrupted by them.

“Out back,” Tyler says. “Didn’t want them running around while I was cooking.” He turns around, a frown on his face as he looks at Jamie. “Those are bowls.”

“Pasta bowls,” Jamie says, a little amused. “I own them.”

“Pasta bowls,” Tyler repeats, almost to himself. “Huh, who knew? I’ll get the chicken.”

Tyler dishes up the food pretty quickly and takes the bowls to Jamie’s dining table, where a bottle of red wine is waiting for them. Jamie hasn’t used the dining table in a really long time, it’s been too damn depressing to try and sit alone at the table with his dinner, but having Tyler sit down in the seat across from him feels good.

“This is nice,” Jamie says, pressing his foot against Tyler’s ankle under the table. “Thank you.”

“Figured we could be grown ups a little,” Tyler says. “But this is like it. I don’t have any other secret homemaking skills, unless you count getting dog hair off clothes.”

“I haven’t been under the impression that you’re a domestic genius,” Jamie says wryly. “Don’t worry.”

“Rude,” Tyler says, spearing a piece of chicken and pointing at Jamie with it. “I’m gonna let Gerry roll over all your clothes when you’re packing for a roadie, dude, just wait.”

Jamie shakes his head in amusement before he takes a sip of his wine. “I do appreciate this,” he says. “But you didn’t really—is there a reason for it?”

“What are you doing for the rest of the off season?”

“Uh, the usual,” Jamie says, swallowing his mouthful of food. “Might see if I can travel back to BC before training camp, but you know as well as I do that might not happen.”

“Okay,” Tyler says. “I want to go somewhere with you, somewhere warm. I was planning on the Bahamas before, like, us, but if you don’t want to go there, then we can—”

“You know you don’t have to do that,” Jamie interrupts softly.

“Do what?” Tyler asks, his brow furrowing.

“Be Tyler Seguin with me,” Jamie says. “The vacations and the whole thing you do when you’re dating someone.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Tyler asks, putting his fork down and nudging Jamie under the table with his foot. “Jamie.”

“It’s what you do with everyone,” Jamie says in a rush, avoiding Tyler’s eyes. “Don’t see why I’d be different.”

Tyler doesn’t say anything, and when Jamie finally looks at him, the frustration and hurt is etched on Tyler’s face, and Jamie—this isn’t what he meant to happen.

“I’m sorry,” Jamie says. “I didn’t mean to—I know you’re not—” Jamie breaks off and sighs. “Can we start this over?”

“You’re not everyone else,” Tyler says quietly. “If you don’t realise that, then I don’t know—”

“I do,” Jamie says, reaching over and taking Tyler’s hand, threading their fingers together. “I do realise that, I’m sorry, I just—I like you,” he continues. “I like the you that showed up in Dallas so fucking determined to prove everyone wrong, the you that would fall asleep on my couch with Marshall and make me walk him in the morning, I like the you that will do your hair for a fucking hour and shove a snapback over it—”

“Hey!”

“I like the you that posts shirtless selfies at the drop of a hat, but blushes if someone gives you a genuine compliment. I don’t need anything from you except to be that guy. I like that guy.”

There’s a flush over Tyler’s cheeks as he makes a face. “Have you always been such a sap, Chubbs?”

“Guess you’ll find out,” Jamie says, squeezing Tyler’s hand before letting go. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Maybe,” Tyler says, the corner of his mouth turning up as he looks at Jamie. “It’s not—I get what you’re saying, but it’s not about me being my image. If we get away from Dallas we could figure this shit out without worrying if we’re gonna end up on some teenager’s TikTok because they catch us holding hands in public.”

“You wanna hold my hand in public, Segs?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tyler says. “I wanna hold your hand, and kiss you in public, and let everyone know you’re mine. I know we can’t do that here, not unless—that’s a bigger conversation—but if we went away, somewhere we can have some privacy, then we—” Tyler breaks off and shrugs, meeting Jamie’s eyes. “What do you think?”

Jamie nods, the corner of his mouth turning up as he looks at Tyler. “Yeah,” he says. “Sure, let's go somewhere warm.”

*

Jamie wakes up the next morning with Tyler doing his best impression of an octopus around him, and he snorts, brushing a hand down Tyler’s back and pressing a kiss to his curls. Tyler mumbles something against Jamie’s skin that Jamie doesn’t hear, and he squeezes Tyler’s arm.

“Didn’t catch that,” he says quietly, not wanting to break the delicate peaceful energy in his bedroom.

Tyler laughs softly, scraping his teeth against Jamie’s collarbone, and Jamie groans at the feeling, his hand coming up to cup the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler doesn’t stop, continues working at Jamie’s skin as if a hickey can permanently brand him, and the thought of it goes straight to Jamie’s dick.

“Tyler,” Jamie breathes out, staring up at the ceiling. Last night they made out until Tyler yawned in Jamie’s face and both of them started laughing, but there’s nothing funny about the current situation. Tyler’s dick is hard against Jamie’s thigh, and Jamie runs a hand down Tyler’s back until he reaches his ass, spreading his fingers over the fabric of Tyler’s boxer briefs.

Tyler lifts his head and grins at Jamie, shifting until he’s right on top of him, Jamie’s legs opening wider to let him get comfortable. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, hand tangled in Tyler’s curls as he brings him closer, mouths brushing together as Tyler laughs. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tyler says, tongue darting out and licking over Jamie’s bottom lip. “Just—this is good.”

“Yeah it is,” Jamie says as Tyler slides against him, it feels stupid good even with layers of fabric between them, but Jamie can’t help but want more. “Can we—“ Jamie plucks at Tyler’s boxer briefs, and it’s like a fire flashes behind Tyler’s eyes as he nods, getting enough space between them so they can both strip off what they slept in. Jamie’s suddenly faced with a whole lot of naked Tyler in his arms and he can’t help the groan that slips from his mouth at the feel of Tyler’s skin against his. “Hi,” he says, fingers running down Tyler’s back.

“Hi yourself,” Tyler says, tracing a finger over Jamie’s brows before leaning down for a kiss.

It’s fucking filthy, like no other kiss they’ve exchanged in the short time they’ve been doing this, and Jamie would swear every nerve in his body is alight with the way Tyler’s kissing him. Sliding both his hands down to Tyler’s ass, Jamie hauls him up a little, holding him firm as they slowly grind against each other.

Jamie’s faintly aware of the rustle of the sheets around them, the whirr of the AC, but he’s entirely preoccupied with the weight of Tyler on top of him. Tyler’s hands are roaming over whatever part of Jamie's body he can reach, his face flushed, dick hard and right up against Jamie’s as they both breathe against each other’s mouths.

It’s way more intense than it should be for something this fucking simple, and Jamie swears he’s losing his fucking mind. Tyler’s teeth keep dragging over Jamie’s bottom lip, and Jamie can’t stop digging his fingers into the firmness of Tyler’s ass, and it’s—.

Jamie gasps out loud as he comes, his thighs shaking with the effort, fingers clenching against Tyler’s ass. “Fuck,” he breathes out as Tyler kisses him. “Fucking—fuck.”

“Yeah,” Tyler mumbles against Jamie’s mouth. “M’so fucking close, babe.”

“C’mon,” Jamie says, hands stroking Tyler’s heated skin as Tyler ruts against him, desperately seeking his own climax. “Make a mess, baby, you’re allowed.”

“Jamie, fuck—“ Tyler’s entire body shudders as he comes and Jamie holds him close, having barely recovered from his own orgasm, kissing Tyler softly through it.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, Tyler’s soft lips pressing insistently against his own. “That was—“

“Fucking amazing,” Tyler says, a smile on his face when he tilts his head to meet Jamie’s eyes. “Fuck, Jamie. Jamie. We’re gonna be so good at this. So fucking good.”

Jamie’s laugh turns into giggles almost instantly, and he reaches up to push Tyler’s hair back, something in his chest catching when Tyler turns his head to kiss Jamie’s palm. “Ty—“

“I kinda like you, Jamie Benn.”

“Now who’s the sap,” Jamie says, laughing when Tyler huffs and starts to climb off him. “I like you too,” he says, sitting up and catching Tyler’s hand. “Be kind of awkward if I didn’t.”

Tyler leans in and kisses him softly. “Maybe more than like,” he says quietly. “Maybe a lot more.”

“Guess we’re on the same page, then,” Jamie says, before looking down at himself. “We also both really need to shower.”

“You’re a moment ruiner,” Tyler says, flicking Jamie’s forehead when he looks back up. “Like, professionally.”

“Shut up,” Jamie says, returning the smile Tyler gives him.

“Hey,” Tyler says, leaning down and kissing Jamie, his hand lingering on Jamie’s cheek. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Now, come on,” Tyler says, lightly patting Jamie on the face. “Dogs to feed, vacations to plan, busy day.”

Jamie laughs, getting up and following Tyler into the bathroom. “You know,” he says. “My off season was going to be a lot more relaxing before you.”

“Sure,” Tyler says, turning the shower on. “But a lot less fun, right?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, curling a hand around Tyler’s hip, pressing up behind him and kissing his neck, smiling as Tyler leans back against him. “Definitely a lot less fun.”

*

“What made you—” Jamie pauses, looking over at Tyler who is staring at his iPad, clicking through potential destinations for them. “Segs?”

“What about this one?” Tyler asks, tilting the screen of his iPad towards Jamie. “Wait, what?”

“Looks nice,” Jamie says, scratching Cash’s head where he’s been butting up against Jamie’s hand demanding attention. “You know I don’t mind where we go.”

“Yeah, you’re known for not having an opinion,” Tyler chirps, sneaking a glance at him. “That’s definitely what I think of when I think of you.”

Jamie elbows him. “Shut up.”

“What were you saying before?”

“I—” Jamie cuts himself off and looks down at Cash, not entirely sure if he wants to say it. “What made you want to do this? Us. This whole thing.”

“Huh,” Tyler says, rubbing a hand over his beard. “That’s, uh, kind of a big question.”

“You don’t have to—” Jamie pauses, searching for the words. “This has just been kind of easy, and I—”

“You don’t think it should be?” Tyler asks. “Because—”

“I don’t know what to think,” Jamie interrupts. “It’s all been... really quick.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“No, it’s—” Jamie sighs. “It’s me, I guess.”

Tyler finally puts the iPad down and turns to Jamie, hitching his leg up underneath him. “Do you—Jamie, do you not want to do this?”

“No,” Jamie says, eyes wide. “No, I want this. I want you.”

“Okay, then what is it? Because I’m getting all kinds of mixed signals here.”

Stroking Cash’s back, Jamie bites his bottom lip and tries to gather his thoughts. “I—you know what it’s like, to have this life and be attracted to men,” he says slowly, watching as Tyler nods. “It’s never been—I never thought I could have this while still playing, maybe not even after that. And that was—I’d made peace with that, but then I met you and—”

“Do you not think this is worth it?” Tyler asks, worrying at his thumb.

“Of course you’re worth it,” Jamie says immediately as he leans forward. Cash huffs at the disruption and jumps off him, walking away and slumping on the floor. “You were always gonna be worth it if we ever—” Jamie breaks off and shakes his head. “I guess I got used to not thinking about it, ‘cause we couldn’t do it, y’know? And between the girls and our careers, I didn’t think we ever would do it, figured we’d just be stuck with never knowing what we could’ve been.”

“Wow,” Tyler says, rubbing his fingers over his mouth before scratching at his facial hair. “That is the most depressing shit I’ve heard from you in a while.”

“Thanks,” Jamie says dryly.

“No, I just—Jamie, you’re like, my person. Since I got here, you’ve been my person, I don’t know how else to—shit, at this point I don’t even know what my life would be like without you in it,” Tyler says, corners of his eyes crinkling as he looks at Jamie. “You want to know why? My whole world got turned upside down the last year, I didn’t know if I’d be able to play again, and then I got home and you’re—fuck, you’re still here, still my person, even with all my fucking drama.”

“Wouldn’t be you without a little bit of drama,” Jamie says, hand curling around Tyler’s forearm, fingers pressing into the tattooed skin firmly, because he can. Because he likes the way Tyler’s mouth drops open a little when he does. “You don’t have to explain. I shouldn’t ask.”

“You should, though,” Tyler says, wetting his lips as he glances down at where Jamie’s hand is gripping him. “This isn’t, like, neither of us are good at this, but I think maybe we should try? Like I don’t want to weep on your shoulder or anything, that’s what my mom is for, but important shit, like our important shit, we should talk about.”

Jamie strokes Tyler’s skin as he quietly contemplates him, taking the time to catalogue the differences between the Tyler that showed up almost a decade ago, and the Tyler in front of him now. There’s the surface differences, more tattoos, a few scars, the fact that Tyler can actually grow facial hair now, but he’s also settled. If Jamie had to pick a word, that would be it. Tyler laughs easier than he did back then, does it without needing to drink, and he’s not as raw, Jamie doesn’t feel like he’s going to set Tyler off with the wrong word. Even with all the uncertainty of the last year, it’s like Tyler’s found a level of comfort within himself that he didn’t have before.

“What?” Tyler asks, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m not—” Jamie shakes his head. “You’re different,” he says. “Not in a bad way.”

“Okay,” Tyler says, brows knitting together in confusion.

“It’s been a lot of years since I put these feelings away,” Jamie says, trying to explain. “You were—we both were—kind of messy the last time I thought about this, thought about us.”

“That’s not—I don’t know what to—”

“It’s new,” Jamie interrupts. “Being able to think about having this with you, but you as you are now, and me now. We’re not the kids we were back then,” he says, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “Might even be considered responsible adults by some.”

“People who don’t know us,” Tyler says, dimples showing as he realises what Jamie’s saying. “I get it. We’ve changed since you last thought about it, hell, since I last thought about it.” Tyler covers Jamie’s hand where it’s still holding on to his forearm. “But we’re still us,” he says, tugging at Jamie’s fingers and carefully, deliberately, slotting their fingers together. “I figure we can work it out.”

Jamie looks down at where their hands are entwined, wondering if he’s ever going to get used to these easy touches that have taken on a whole new meaning for him. Part of Jamie hopes he never gets used to it, that he never ends up taking what they have for granted, because he’s pretty sure that’s how he could end up losing it and that—Jamie doesn’t even want to think about that. Looking back up at Tyler, he laughs when Tyler sticks his tongue out at him. “Mature, responsible adults,” Jamie says through his giggles. “That’s us.”

“Yeah we are,” Tyler says, leaning in and kissing Jamie firmly, and Jamie lets the kiss soothe away what worries he has left.

“So,” Jamie says, pulling back a little. “Where are we going on vacation?”

Tyler’s eyes light up and he reaches for his iPad, letting go of Jamie’s hand and wriggling around until his back is up against Jamie’s side. Jamie instinctively curls an arm around Tyler, pulling him close and looking over Tyler’s shoulder at the screen.

“You’re comfortable,” Tyler says, relaxing back against Jamie as he pulls up the screen. “What do you think of this place? It’s got a private beach, and a pool. No one around, fully set up, and we could leave, like, really soon.”

“Looks good,” Jamie says, trailing his fingers along Tyler’s arm. “We should book it.”

“Yeah?” Tyler asks, craning his neck to meet Jamie’s eyes. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Tyler says, settling back against Jamie, feet pressing against the couch cushions. “Thought you’d need more persuading.”

Jamie pauses, enjoying the warmth of Tyler’s body against his. “Are you saying I can’t be impulsive?”

“No,” Tyler says. “Thought you’d want to see more options or different places or something, but if you want this one, we’ll go with this one.”

“I trust you,” Jamie says. “And I—it doesn’t matter to me where we go, as long as we have privacy so that we can—”

“Be naked a lot?”

“I didn’t think you needed privacy for that,” Jamie chirps, laughing when Tyler smacks his leg. “I missed you,” he says. “The whole season. It wasn’t the same without you, and even if we hadn’t—if we weren’t doing this, I’d want to spend time with you. Shit, Segs, I was fucking miserable, ask anyone. Even when we won games it felt wrong without you there, and I know we’ve played without each other before, but this—” Jamie breaks off as Tyler turns around to look at him, half climbing into Jamie’s lap. “With everything else going on, and having no days off, it just—it was fucking lonely.”

“Jamie—”

“It’s not your fault,” Jamie says, his hands coming to rest on Tyler’s body. “It’s not anyone’s fault, it was just a lot of shit piling up, but it sucked. S’all there is to it.”

“Still,” Tyler says, pressing a kiss against Jamie’s cheek before he runs a hand over Jamie’s hair. “I’m sorry. Being away sucked for me as well, like a little different, but it was still shit. I hated missing this season,” he says. “I’d hate missing any season, but this one—it was fucking hard. Not knowing if I could get back, watching you all push through, I don’t know if I even started feeling like me again until I got back on the road with you. I needed that. Opened my eyes to a lot of shit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, shoulder lifting in a small shrug. “Didn’t like the way my life was going,” he says. “Not the injuries, that’s hockey, but the rest of it. Who I was, who I wanted to be, who I wanted in my life. I didn’t even notice I’d changed so much until I got back with the team, and it was just—” Tyler breaks off and shakes his head.

“What?” Jamie shifts, tugging Tyler’s leg over his lap, fingers digging into Tyler’s thigh muscle. “Tell me.”

“Keep doing that and I’ll tell you anything,” Tyler groans, his gaze darkening as he looks at Jamie. “Christ, Jamie, your hands. This is your plan, isn’t it? Massage me into submission until I tell you all my darkest secrets.”

“Yeah, Segs,” Jamie says, deadpan. “You caught me, that’s definitely my plan for you.”

“Knew it.”

“Do you have any secrets I don’t know?” Jamie asks, honestly curious. In all the years he’s known Tyler, he doesn’t think Tyler’s ever kept anything from him, even if it’s only come out after several drinks.

“I used to jerk off after you’d get into a fight during a game,” Tyler says, a flush across his cheeks. “Never told you that.”

Jamie laughs, not expecting that. “No, you never told me that,” he says. “Explains a lot, though.”

“Shut up,” Tyler says, poking Jamie’s stomach with his foot. “It felt like I was playing a role,” he says quietly after a moment, looking up at Jamie. “This last year, I don’t know, maybe longer. Felt like I was pretending to be someone else because I thought it’s what I should be as a hockey player. Didn’t feel good. Not being able to be on the ice made me think about that, a lot. Like, having that stripped away from me? Almost permanently? I—that was fucking terrifying, Chubbs. It made me think about who I would be without that, think about who would stick around if I wasn’t what I’ve been all these years.”

“Tyler—”

“It’s not—” Tyler breaks off and shakes his head. “You wanted an explanation, right? That’s kind of it. Found some clarity. Lead me here.”

Jamie presses his lips together, Tyler looks nervous, as if he thinks this is going to be too much for Jamie to deal with, and maybe a few years ago it would’ve been. Back then Jamie wouldn’t have known how to deal with a Tyler this honest and open, a Tyler so fearlessly showing his soul to Jamie and not really asking for anything in return. It’s not like Jamie really knows what to do with it now, but he does know that he’s being handed something he has to be careful with. It’s not that Tyler’s delicate, he’s as much of an asshole as Jamie is, but this—Jamie’s learnt a lot of lessons the hard way about being careful with other people’s feelings, and he knows he can’t fuck this up.

Tyler’s still looking at him like he’s waiting for an unknown reaction, and Jamie pulls him closer until he’s in his lap properly, legs splayed out over Jamie’s thighs. “I’m glad,” Jamie says, one hand on the back of Tyler’s neck, pulling him in until their noses are brushing together. “Not that you went through that, but that it got you here, with me. I hope—fuck, Segs, I just—I don’t want to let you down.”

“Never,” Tyler says. “Well, I don’t know dude, do you still keep ketchup in the fridge instead of on the counter? Because that’s not where it belongs, and—”

Tyler’s laughing when Jamie kisses him, smiling into the kiss as Jamie slides his hands underneath Tyler’s t-shirt, his palms flat against Tyler’s heated skin. The iPad falls to the floor with a clatter and Jamie falls back even deeper into the couch, bringing Tyler with him in a tangle of limbs.

*

Looking out at the horizon, Jamie wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand before swigging from his bottle of water. They’ve been there for almost a week and Jamie’s still not over how beautiful it is. It’s quiet, the kind of privacy you can only get if you can afford it, and for once Jamie’s not feeling anxious about spending his money in such a conspicuous way because this? He needed this. Even aside from spending time with Tyler, being able to get some distance from the shitshow of a season and let his body heal some from the relentless physical push of the schedule has felt really fucking good.

Tyler was still asleep when Jamie left for a run on the beach to burn off some energy, and as Jamie walks through the house to the bedroom, he can hear Tyler on the phone with someone. Curious, he pushes the bedroom door open to find Tyler stretched out on the bed, laughing at his phone.

“Hey,” Tyler says, eyes lighting up as he looks at Jamie. “Mom, he’s back, hold on.”

Jamie sits on the edge of the bed, surprised when Tyler shoves the phone in front of his face. “Hi Jackie,” Jamie says. “Things good?”

“Be better when I can travel down to Dallas again and see you boys,” she says, smiling at him. “And my grandpups.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “My mom says the same thing.”

Tyler laughs, taking the phone back. “I’ll call you later, okay? Or tomorrow. We’ll sort something out. Love you.”

Jamie waits, slowly realising he should probably call his own mom. And shower, he should definitely shower. “What are you trying to sort out?” Jamie asks after Tyler’s hung up.

“Nice man bun,” Tyler says, tugging at where Jamie’s put his hair up. “You know, you could’ve got a haircut before we left.”

“Segs.”

Tyler shrugs. “It’s her sixtieth coming up,” he says, resting his chin against Jamie’s shoulder. “We were meant to, I don’t know, do something big, and now it’s like, the logistics of everything makes it hard.”

“Sorry,” Jamie says, squeezing Tyler’s thigh. “That sucks.”

“Could be worse, but it still feels shitty, y’know?” Tyler says. “I wanted her to have a whole thing, she deserves it, but now...” Tyler makes a disappointed noise, not unlike Cash when Tyler says he can’t have more treats.

Jamie turns, dislodging Tyler from his shoulder. “Hi,” he says, curling a hand around Tyler’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss until he starts to feel the tension in Tyler’s body fade away.

“Tease,” Tyler says, his mouth brushing over Jamie’s lips. “Can’t believe you went for a run this morning.”

Jamie hums as they kiss, Tyler pulling him closer, running his hands over Jamie’s bare chest, and a noise slips out of Jamie’s mouth as Tyler’s fingers slide in the waistband of his shorts. “You could’ve come with me,” Jamie says against Tyler’s mouth. “Instead of sleeping the morning away.”

“Vacation, Jamie,” Tyler says, leaning back to meet Jamie’s eyes. “Remember?”

“Wanna remind me?” Jamie asks, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile, fingers lightly pressing against the back of Tyler’s neck. “Since it’s vacation and all.”

Tyler grins, his hand slipping further into Jamie’s shorts, groping him shamelessly. “If you wanted to get off all you had to do was ask,” he says.

“Thought that—shit, Tyler,” Jamie bites out when Tyler’s hand wraps around his dick. “Thought that’s what I just did.”

“Uh huh,” Tyler says, catching Jamie’s mouth with his for a quick kiss. “You know what you should do?”

Jamie blinks as he looks at Tyler, already almost too turned on to think straight. “What?”

“Fuck me,” Tyler says, ducking his head and biting at Jamie’s neck lightly. “Jamie, you should—”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, both hands gripping Tyler’s hips and holding him firm. “Yeah, I should—we should—yeah.”

“Yeah?” Tyler asks, his hand stilling on Jamie’s cock as he raises his head and looks at Jamie.

There’s an air of vulnerability in Tyler’s eyes that Jamie hasn’t seen since he first got to Dallas, and Jamie nods. “Yeah,” he says, kissing Tyler softly. “Definitely.”

Jamie strokes a hand down Tyler’s cheek, kissing him one more time before Tyler pulls away, and the next thing Jamie’s really aware of is Tyler shoving the lube against his chest and winking. Looking at Tyler spread out on the sheets, lightly tanned skin, taut muscles on display, his pretty dick hard and curving up towards his stomach, Jamie presses his lips together and shakes his head.

“What?” Tyler asks, a grin on his face as he palms himself. “C’mon,” he says, nudging Jamie’s thigh with his knee. “I want you naked.”

Rolling his eyes, Jamie strips out of his shorts quickly, dropping them on the floor before he climbs back on the bed. Picking up the lube, Jamie looks Tyler over. “You need—”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, a flush spreading across his skin. “Been a while, y’know, and you’re—” Tyler breaks off and glances at Jamie’s dick before shrugging. “You know what you are.”

Jamie tries not to look smug, but judging by the look on Tyler’s face, he fails.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got a big dick,” Tyler says, kicking Jamie’s thigh. “Get your fingers in me.”

“No one told me you were such a romantic,” Jamie says as he slicks up his fingers.

“I’ll give you romanti—fuck,” Tyler gasps out as Jamie slowly pushes two fingers inside him. “Okay, yeah, I—Jamie—”

Jamie’s never known anyone as expressive as Tyler, and he drinks in everything crossing Tyler’s face as he opens him up. Tyler’s teeth are digging into his bottom lip, gaze not drifting away from Jamie’s face, and it’s—Jamie just wants to cover him, to mark him up and let everyone know that Tyler belongs to him. It’s nothing Jamie’s ever felt with anyone he’s dated previously, and he idly wonders if that should scare him, but all he can think of is Tyler; the way he’s moving against the sheets, the noises slipping from his bitten lips, and his long legs spread out for Jamie’s easy access.

“M’good,” Tyler says, breaking into Jamie’s thoughts. “Jamie, you can—”

“Sure?”

“You’re big, you’re not that big,” Tyler says with a grin that quickly turns into a groan as Jamie pushes three fingers back inside him. “Oh, you fucker,” Tyler says. “Come on, Jamie, I want you inside me.”

Jamie swallows, slipping his fingers out of Tyler and wiping them on the sheets. “Do you—” Jamie pauses, grabbing the lube and looking between them. “I mean—”

“Is there a reason we need to?” Tyler asks, somehow knowing what Jamie’s trying to say.

“Not on my end.”

“Same,” Tyler says, leg knocking against Jamie’s body. “So get on with it.”

“So fucking impatient,” Jamie says, shaking his head as he gets himself ready, gently pushing Tyler’s legs apart, hitching him up a little.

“Yeah,” Tyler says, stretching his arms over his head. “You should find a way to fix that one day. Tie me up, fuck me until I’m begging.”

Jamie can see it in the back of his mind, Tyler tied to his bed at home, whining with desperation as Jamie works him over, and he narrows his eyes at the smug look on Tyler’s face. Lining himself up, Jamie pushes inside Tyler without hesitation, smiling at the way Tyler gasps as if all his breath has been punched out of him. “There you go,” Jamie says, watching Tyler’s chest rise and fall, his fingers scrabbling at the sheets, sweat beading on his skin.

“Jamie, fuck,” Tyler breathes out. “You—fuck, fuck me, come on.” He lets go of the sheets and reaches for Jamie. “Come here, please, I want—”

A groan slips from Jamie’s mouth as they shift a little, the change in angle letting Jamie sink even deeper inside Tyler, and he catches Tyler’s mouth in a messy kiss, the both of them breathing too raggedly to really turn it into something. Jamie starts to move, fucking Tyler like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do, and it’s—if it were the last thing he were ever to do, he’d be more than okay with that.

Tyler’s so fucking responsive that it’s making Jamie lose his mind, everything either of them do sparking a reaction in the other and it feels like electricity running through his veins. Jamie buries his face against Tyler’s neck, grazing his teeth against the skin there, and the noise Tyler lets out in response only makes Jamie want to fuck him harder, want to bury himself inside Tyler over and over again until they’re both out of their mind with pleasure.

“Ty—shit, you’re just—” Jamie drags his mouth over Tyler’s beard until he can kiss him, mouths coming together in a sloppy, wet kiss that Jamie never wants to break.

“Yeah,” Tyler says against Jamie’s mouth. “Jamie, keep—fuck, you’re so—”

Jamie doesn’t know how long they’ve been going at it, all he knows is that he could stay like this forever, sweaty skin and obscene noises echoing in the room, Tyler crying out into Jamie’s mouth like he’s on the verge of falling apart, and Jamie—he’s close, he’s so fucking close. Tyler’s fucking perfect around him, tight warm heat that Jamie can’t get enough of, and all it takes is a couple more thrusts before Jamie’s coming, his teeth grazing against Tyler’s mouth as his hips stutter, cock pulsing inside Tyler.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, feeling Tyler’s hands digging into his back muscles, the slow drag of Tyler’s dick against his stomach. Pushing up, Jamie looks at Tyler, how close he is to coming is written across his face, and Jamie doesn’t say a word, just slides his hand between them, clumsily grasping Tyler’s dick.

“Jamie—oh fuck, babe, yeah, I—” Tyler’s barely making any sense, and Jamie kisses him, stroking him over and over again until Tyler’s coming, his entire body jerking underneath Jamie.

Breathing heavy, Jamie carefully slides out of Tyler, hushing his complaints with a soft kiss. Jamie drags Tyler with him as he rolls onto his back, he’s aware of the mess between them, but he doesn’t care, he just knows he doesn’t ever want to stop touching Tyler. Eventually, the need to take a breath means Jamie has to break away from Tyler’s mouth, and he stares up at the ceiling, hands running down Tyler’s back in a lazy pattern.

“I think we can say we got that part of a relationship down,” Tyler says, his face resting on Jamie’s chest.

“Yep,” Jamie says, scratching a line down Tyler’s spine, smiling when Tyler shivers against him. “We do.”

Tyler laughs, pushing up and pressing a quick kiss against Jamie’s neck before he curls up on top of Jamie, reaching to grab Jamie’s hand and threading their fingers together. “You know you still have your hair tied up, right?” Tyler says idly.

“I—what?” Jamie reaches up with his free hand, feeling the hair tie. Laughing, he tugs at it until it comes loose, throwing it across the room. Tyler’s pressing his face against Jamie’s chest, and Jamie squeezes his hand, smiling to himself when Tyler squeezes back. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, his mouth moving against Jamie’s chest. “More than. Fuck, Jamie, that was—” Tyler breaks off and sighs. “Yeah.”

Jamie continues stroking a hand up and down Tyler’s back, listening to the waves outside, Tyler’s steady breathing, and he’s almost dozing off when his stomach rumbles, making Tyler laugh. “Sorry,” Jamie mumbles sleepily. “Worked up an appetite.”

“Yeah you did,” Tyler says, pushing up a little and looking down at Jamie. “We should eat.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie says, cupping the back of Tyler’s head and bringing him down for a kiss, enjoying the soft press of Tyler’s mouth against his. “Okay,” he says, breaking the kiss. “Now we can go eat.”

*

“How do you want to—when we get back, what do you want to do?” Jamie asks, sipping at his cocktail, toes in the sand, the last of the sun warming his skin as he relaxes back into his chair.

“About?”

“Us,” Jamie says, looking over at Tyler. “And, like, the world.”

“I don’t think the entire world cares about us,” Tyler says, raising an eyebrow as he plays with the umbrella in his drink.

“Segs—”

“I don’t know,” Tyler says, his voice slightly strained. “I don’t—fuck, Jamie, getting to touch you however I want, whenever I want, while we’ve been here has been—I don’t know how I’m meant to stop doing that.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, closing his eyes and thinking of the easy way Tyler had taken his hand when they’d walked along the stretch of beach earlier, how he’d slid his hand around Tyler’s waist when they’d come back from dinner at one of the resort restaurants a few days ago, Tyler mouthing at Jamie’s neck and whispering filthy things in his ear. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“So how do we—”

“I think,” Jamie says slowly. “I think we don’t do anything.” Hearing Tyler make a panicked noise, Jamie looks over at him and sees the confusion on his face. “Not—we’re not not doing this,” he says, hurriedly. “We’re doing this, I’m not losing you now that I—we’re doing this.”

“Okay,” Tyler says, a pleased smile on his face. “Then what do you mean?”

“Maybe that we just don’t hide it,” Jamie says. “I’m not saying we come out, I don’t want to—that sounds like a lot of press and a lot of hell if we did that, and I’m not saying you post us kissing to your Instagram, but we’re friends anyway, right?”

“Duh.”

Jamie shrugs. “Then why don’t we just live. We’ll be careful, and I guess we have to tell our agents to prepare something if we do get caught, but otherwise—” Jamie sighs. “Fuck it. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

“Wow,” Tyler says, leaning back on his chair, feet digging into the sand. “I didn’t—you really don’t care if people find out?”

“I mean, I don’t want us to be the poster boys for gay players in the NHL—”

“I don’t want that either,” Tyler interrupts, worrying his bottom lip. “But, I mean—you trust me not to fuck up?”

“What? Yes,” Jamie insists, putting his drink on the sand. “Of course I trust you.”

“What if I post something that makes people think, I don’t know, we’re together. Like together together.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “I think that ship has sailed,” Jamie says, laughing when Tyler rolls his eyes. “Look I don’t care about people speculating, they do that about everything to do with us in some way anyway. I care about you. I care about us not falling apart because we’re too busy trying to hide what we are instead of living our lives.”

“So if I took a photo now and tagged you in it, you’d be cool with that?”

Pausing for a moment, Jamie contemplates the idea before he shrugs. “Sure,” he says. “Go ahead.”

Tyler drains his drink before putting it on the sand, and Jamie watches as he pulls his phone out, aiming it at the sun going down, the colours casting a glow over the waves that Jamie doesn’t think he could ever get tired of looking at. “Still cool with it?” Tyler asks after he’s taken the photo.

“Yep,” Jamie says. “Still cool with it.”

“Putting someone on the grid is a big commitment,” Tyler says, glancing over at Jamie while tapping at his phone. “I hope you know that.”

“Pretty sure we’re committed,” Jamie says. “Or you planning on running away from Dallas when your contract is up?”

“Like you wouldn’t follow me,” Tyler says flippantly. “And we’re done. You’re tagged.”

Jamie looks at the screen as Tyler waves the phone in his face, the tag visible along with the beach sunset emoji as a caption because, as much as Jamie loves him, Tyler is never gonna be anything other than basic. “I would, you know,” he says once Tyler stops waving the phone in his face. “Follow you. Not that—I’m pretty sure we’re going to be able to hang around in Dallas until our bodies give out on us, but if we don’t, then yeah, I’d follow you.”

Tyler’s face softens as he looks at Jamie, tucking his phone back in his pocket. “Jamie,” he says quietly. “You can’t just—” Tyler breaks off and shakes his head. “I would, too. Follow you, if it came down to it. Fuck, if this last year is any indication, we’d have to follow each other to stay functional.”

“Jordie always did say we were codependent,” Jamie says, the shy smile Tyler gives him in return warming him from the inside out.

“Have you told him?”

Groaning, Jamie rubs a hand over his face. “I kinda don’t want to tell him.”

“Oh,” Tyler says quietly. “Is that—”

“No, not because—” Jamie shakes his head. “Not for a bad reason, just—he’s gonna be so fucking smug,” he says, grinning when Tyler starts laughing. “You don’t understand, he’s—it doesn’t matter.”

“No, come on, tell me why he’ll be smug,” Tyler says, getting out of his chair and kneeling in the sand next to Jamie’s chair, hands on Jamie’s thighs. “Jamie,” he pleads. “Tell me.”

Jamie presses his lips together and looks away for a moment. “He always knew, okay? Back when you first got here and we would—”

“Flirt?”

“Yeah. He just—he always knew and would chirp me about it,” Jamie says with a shrug. “That’s all. He gave up when I got serious with Katie, but we tell him we’re together and he’s gonna have a field day with it.” Tyler looks as if he’s trying to be sympathetic, but failing, and Jamie rolls his eyes. “I know,” Jamie says. “It’s ridiculous, but you’re not a younger sibling, you wouldn’t understand.”

“This is the kind of thing I’d tease the girls about,” Tyler says with an accepting nod, fluidly getting to his feet and looking Jamie over before climbing onto his lap.

“I don’t know if these chairs are sturdy enough for this,” Jamie says, despite his hands automatically coming up to grab onto Tyler. “Also you’re heavy.”

“Fuck you, you’re a hockey player, you can cope,” Tyler says, giggling when Jamie pinches him.

“Seriously Segs, I feel like the chair is gonna break.”

“Don’t you wanna hold me while we watch the sunset?” Tyler asks, his fingers playing with Jamie’s hair as he looks at him.

“Not if it ends with splinters in my ass,” Jamie grumbles, trying to ignore the flush he can feel on his cheeks.

“That would be a tragedy,” Tyler says solemnly. “Maybe I should get up.”

Jamie tightens his grip on Tyler’s body, fingers pressed against his sun warmed skin. “No,” he says. “No, it’s—your feet are kind of on the ground, we’re good.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Jamie says, meeting Tyler’s eyes. “I’m—this is good.”

“You’re not gonna see the sunset while you’re looking at me, you know,” Tyler teases.

“Don’t care,” Jamie says, sliding a hand up Tyler’s back before cupping the back of his neck and dragging him down into a kiss, swallowing the tiny gasp Tyler lets out. It’s almost chaste, nothing more than a reassuring slide of their mouths, Tyler’s hand gently tugging on strands of Jamie’s hair, and when Jamie breaks the kiss neither of them back away. Resting their foreheads together, Jamie swallows as Tyler scrapes his nails over the back of Jamie’s neck.

“Wanna go inside?” Tyler asks quietly.

“Later,” Jamie says as he traces lines along Tyler’s thigh with his fingers. “Kinda liking this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a smile on Tyler’s face that Jamie knows for a fact he’s one of the only people who ever gets to see it, and he sighs before he leans in and presses his mouth against that smile for a quick moment. Settling back against the chair, he waits, amused, as Tyler rearranges himself until he can rest his head against Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie’s got no idea how Tyler manages to wedge himself into the positions he does, but right now, with the sun slowly going down, and all of Tyler’s wriggly warm weight against him, he can’t think of anything better. Brushing his mouth against Tyler’s curls, Jamie ignores the buzz of his phone in his pocket and lets himself appreciate the moment, something he knows he’s guilty of not doing far too often.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing Tyler’s hand and tangling their fingers together. “This was a good idea. Going away, I mean.”

“My ideas are always the best.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jamie says as Tyler laughs. “But this one, this was good.”

There’s quiet from Tyler for a moment before he squeezes Jamie’s hand. “You’re welcome, Jameson.”

*

“That look on your face is disgusting,” Jordie says, nudging Jamie with his elbow.

“What? Shut up,” Jamie says, not looking away from Tyler making faces at Billie. He’s happy Jordie and the family are able to spend the summer in Dallas, he really is, but he hasn’t missed his brother’s chirping at his love life. “It’s my birthday, you’re not allowed to be mean.”

“But it’s gross.”

“Stop teasing your brother,” Jessi says as she approaches, handing Jordie another beer. “They’re cute.”

“Betrayed,” Jordie says, clasping the beer to his chest dramatically. “By the mother of my child. Betrayed.”

Jamie laughs, kissing Jessi on the cheek before he looks back over at Tyler for a moment. “He’s good with her,” he says. “Thanks for letting him—I think he likes this, being part of the family.”

“Eh,” Jessi says, a grin crossing her face. “Can’t be a worse influence than her dad.”

Jordie makes a noise of protest that’s quickly hushed by Jessi kissing him, and Jamie wrinkles his nose before he starts walking over to where Tyler’s entertaining Billie. He gets stopped a few times, friends wishing him a happy birthday, some of the team asking where more alcohol is, but it doesn’t take long before he reaches Tyler’s side.

Billie spots him first, squealing and reaching out for him with her little legs thudding against Tyler’s chest, and there’s a blinding smile on Tyler’s face when he finally looks over at Jamie. “Hey,” he says, handing Billie over as she squirms. “Having a good birthday?”

“It’s not bad,” Jamie says as he takes her, hitching her up on his hip and blowing a raspberry against her neck that makes her squeal loudly in his ear, her hands grabbing onto his bearded cheeks.

“Shit, that’s cute,” Tyler says, his face soft when Jamie looks at him. “What? It is. You’re cute with her.”

“You are as well,” Jamie says, letting Billie grab at his face, pretending to bite at her hands whenever her fingers get near his mouth. “You’re good with kids.”

“I like kids,” Tyler says with a shrug. “They’re always honest. Can’t hide anything from them.”

Jamie hums thoughtfully, wanting to ask but not entirely sure if it’s too soon. He knows, deep in his heart, that he wants this with Tyler, however they’re able to make it happen. If he lets himself think about it, Jamie can see it all too easily, being woken up by a baby in the small hours of the morning, taking them on the ice for the first time, building a family with Tyler in this city they’ve made their home. It’s a lot for Jamie to think about, but when he told Tyler he wanted everything with him, he meant it.

“You know,” Tyler says, breaking into Jamie’s thoughts. “One day you’re gonna be a real DILF,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at Jamie.

“I—” Jamie makes a face. “You can’t say that in front of the baby.”

Tyler shrugs, moving a little closer. “It’s true. Gonna be the hottest dad at the playground.”

“You, uh, you want that?” Jamie asks, unable to take his eyes off Tyler, tracking every subtle movement on his face. “Kids?”

“With you? Hell yeah,” Tyler says, letting Billie grab onto his finger. “Seems like you Benns make pretty cute kids, I want in on that.”

Jamie’s pretty sure his brain has shorted out as he watches Tyler play with Billie, and he struggles to find the words he wants to say. “You’d want, I mean, me?”

“To start with,” Tyler says. “We’d have more than one.”

“More than one,” Jamie repeats. “Okay. Okay, sure. More than one.”

“You sure? You’re looking a little flushed there, bud,” Tyler says, narrowing his eyes at Jamie. “You do—I’m not reading this wrong, right?”

“What? No, I mean, I want that. With you, eventually,” Jamie says, shifting Billie to his other hip, dodging out of the way of her little fists. “It just seemed kind of early to talk about it.”

“Jamie,” Tyler says, running a hand down Jamie’s arm before holding onto his hand. “This is it for me. You’re it for me. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, squeezing Tyler’s hand lightly.

“So we can talk about it. Kids, I mean. It’s not gonna be next year, or even the year after that, but I know we’re gonna have this one day. Shit, it’s gonna be so cute to put our kid in a Stars jersey and get them on the ice in some tiny skates,” Tyler says, dimples deepening as he smiles at Jamie. “So cute,” he reiterates, and Jamie can’t help but grin back at him.

He doesn’t know how long they stare at each other like idiots, ridiculous smiles on their faces, but Billie makes it known she’s not happy at being ignored and grabs at the strands of Jamie’s hair that have fallen out of his hair tie. “Hey,” he says, gently trying to detangle her fingers from his hair. “That’s kind of mean.” Billie laughs at him, hitting him in the nose with her other hand, and Jamie laughs. “Yeah, thanks,” he says. “You really are one of us.”

“Violence and those eyes? Definitely a Benn,” Tyler says, leaning in and brushing a kiss over Jamie’s mouth before he takes Billie. “Let's get you back to mommy before your parents embarrass themselves in public, huh? Yeah, c’mon, you and Uncle Segs are gonna go make sure you’re not getting a sibling yet.”

Jamie watches Tyler walk off with Billie, approaching Jordie and Jessi who absolutely are on their way to embarrassing themselves, and he shakes his head before feeling a cool bottle being pressed against his shoulder.

“You don’t want to make my life easy, do you?” Bayne says, eyebrows raised when Jamie turns around.

“Gotta make sure you’re working for your percentage,” Jamie says, taking the beer Bayne offers. “It kind of—I don’t know. It happened.”

“About time,” Bayne says, laughing when Jamie rolls his eyes. “I’m not wrong and you know it,” he says. “But I’m assuming you don’t want to make a splash with it.”

“I just want to concentrate on hockey,” Jamie says with a heavy sigh. “Both of us want to. We’re not gonna hide, but—”

“But you’re not going to come out.”

Jamie glances at Bayne over his beer. “You disappointed?”

“No, Jamie,” Bayne says. “No. If you don’t want to be the first, don’t be the first. Do I want someone to be the first? Yeah, I’m not going to lie, an active player coming out as anything other than aggressively heterosexual would be fucking great, but I want that player to want it. And as your agent, I’m on your side, whatever your choice is.”

Jamie nods, looking over at Tyler laughing with Jordie. “I think—fuck, I didn’t know I could have this.”

“You can,” Bayne says quietly. “Jamie, you can have this. You can have him. You don’t have to choose between that and hockey.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, taking a long drag of his beer before elbowing Bayne. “When did you get so smart, eh?”

“You’re the one trusting me with your career,” Bayne says. “You should hope I’m smart.”

Laughing, Jamie looks around the backyard, eyes settling on Tyler introducing Gerry to Billie and judging by the noise Bayne makes, his face must look really fucking stupid. “I’m just gonna—” Jamie breaks off and gestures at Tyler with his bottle of beer. “Uh.”

“Go see your boy,” Bayne says. “Though you better get that look under control if you want to keep this low key.”

Jamie lightly punches Bayne on the shoulder, even though Jamie knows he’s right, before he makes his way over to where Tyler’s sitting with Billie on his lap as Gerry noses at her feet. “Hey,” he says, sitting on the lounger next to Tyler, curling an arm around his waist and resting his palm on Tyler’s hip.

“Hi,” Tyler says. “What were you and Bayne talking about?”

“Us,” Jamie says. “Not wanting to come out.”

“Is he—” Tyler breaks off and makes a face. “Okay with that? Not that he’s the like, queer rep of the NHL, though I guess he kind of is in a way—”

“He’s fine with it,” Jamie says, cutting off Tyler’s ramblings. “He knows me, he gets it.”

“I don’t think any of us are shocked you don’t want to be the first out player, Chubbs,” Jordie interjects, looming over them. “Can I have my kid back now before she starts liking your dogs more than mine?”

Tyler makes a noise as he hands Billie over. “Losing battle, dude,” he says, reaching down and rubbing a hand over Gerry’s head. “My boys are way cuter than yours.”

“Don’t even try it, Seggy,” Jordie says, bouncing Billie in his arms. “She knows exactly who has the cuter dogs.”

“Don’t listen to him, Gerry,” Tyler says as Gerry nestles against his feet. “He’s wrong.”

Jamie watches as Gerry lets out a yawn, resting his head on Tyler’s left foot, entirely unbothered by what’s going on around him. “I think Gerry is very secure in knowing how cute he is,” Jamie says before putting his bottle on a nearby table.

“Like father, like son, right?” Tyler says, raising his eyebrows as he looks at Jamie.

“Sure,” Jamie says, leaning in and kissing him softly, unable to resist deepening it when Tyler lets out a noise. Jamie grips his hip, wanting nothing more than to pull Tyler into his lap and kiss him until they’re both hard and needy. A loud cough reminds him they have company, though, and he pulls back, rubbing his thumb over Tyler’s bottom lip. “Later,” he says quietly, the look in Tyler’s eyes going right to his cock.

“And that, Billie,” Jordie says. “Is what you’re never ever gonna do in public, okay? You’re not gonna turn out like your Uncles, no, they’re a bad example.”

“Whatever, dude,” Tyler says, a flush over his cheeks. “Like I didn’t catch you and Jessi getting hot and heavy a minute ago.”

“Is this an 80s movie?” Jordie asks, not denying it. “Who says that?”

Jamie tunes out Tyler and Jordie bickering and glances around the backyard. He’s not consciously looking for reactions to him and Tyler kissing, but he can’t stop the little voice in the back of his head that says he shouldn’t have done that. The voice that’s still telling him all it would take is one photo to cause chaos in both his and Tyler’s careers. He trusts everyone here, he does, but he’s spent so long having to be aware of his actions, so long not being able to kiss who he wanted to kiss, so long not being able to have this, that it’s a hard habit to break. He kinda hopes he will break it, one day.

“You good, babe?” Tyler asks, squeezing Jamie’s thigh.

Jamie gives one last look around the backyard. Dickie and Bish are talking by the grill, the rookies are splashing around in the pool with Cash, and Jamie swallows around the lump in his throat at the feeling of his house looking alive for the first time in way too long. “Yeah,” he says, turning to look at Tyler. “I think I am.”