Chapter Text
David is on his feet before he realizes what he’s doing, breath caught in his chest as he watches the back-and-forth between Patrick and one of the players from the other team. Suddenly, Patrick has the puck and is snapping with his stick thing to slap the puck towards the goal. It flies right past one of the goalie’s skates despite a mad dash to block the shot.
The little light blinks above the netting, and David’s own cheering is absorbed into the roar of the arena around him. He watches Patrick get mobbed by his teammates on the ice so they can congratulate him. Pride wells up inside David, and he wonders if this is the sort of feeling that most sports fans experience, though he hadn’t been nearly invested in the events on the ice yesterday when he’d watched that game. His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he attempts to temper the strength of his smile.
While the players head back to their markers so they can go after the puck all over again, Patrick skates a lazy, wide arc towards his spot. David has to press his lips together when Patrick glides by, grinning right at him. It feels like a private moment despite the cameras trained on the ice and the fans surrounding David.
By the end of the game, David’s feels jittery with excitement, absorbed from the crowd and sourced from within at the sight of Patrick’s competence. He might not know hockey rules, but he can appreciate the way Patrick uses every ounce of his compact build to get the job done. Canada wins the game, and the team celebrates in a puppy pile that gives David conflicting thoughts about sweaty bodies sliding together.
He waits until the arena is less crowded and the hockey teams have left the ice before he files up the steps and into the lobby. His phone feels heavy in his pocket as he wavers over what to do next.
The only time Sebastien had asked him to watch him play was the final game of the season final. He’d been given clear instructions on where to wait and what to say to get access to the locker room. David hadn’t actually watched the game; he’d been stuck in the general standing room only section because Sebastien hadn’t gotten him a ticket. Which was fine, because the sex afterwards had been hot enough to make David forgive the awkwardness.
Obviously, sex isn’t on the table for David now. Patrick made that line pretty clear when he asked to wait before they even kissed. It’s better this way, David thinks. Still, not having an agenda to follow makes him feel unmoored. He wants to see Patrick again, now. He wants to touch him and see what that flush of victory looks like up close. David wants...so much.
But he also has the weight of unspoken conversations anchoring him at least enough not to do anything too reckless. As easy and tempting as it would be for him to flirt and push his way past Patrick’s boundaries, David knows those same lines are keeping him level-headed.
He texts Patrick as he gets swept up in the last of the crowd leaving the arena.
David: I think you earned a gold star for that.
David: Come by my suite after you’re done?
He sends the hotel information in another text and tries not to guess how long it might take for Patrick to respond. David needs to know what Patrick wants—the sooner, the better.
He doesn’t think his heart is willing to listen to reason for much longer.
“You have no idea,” Patrick’s voice is low and promising, “how much I’d like that.”
He called to tell David he didn’t think coming over tonight was a good idea. It takes a lot more strength than David would like to admit for him to keep from begging Patrick. He keeps his pleas to himself, locked behind the need to do things right for once. For himself.
David leans back with his free hand braces against his bed as he sighs heavily, wistfully. “You could always elaborate.” He’s merely human, after all.
That earns a chuckle. “Suffice to say, it’s a lot.” He makes a sound that David can’t quite parse. “I’m a little bit drunk.” The warmth in Patrick’s voice has David’s stomach swooping with anticipation and want.
David can’t help but grin at the slow way Patrick confesses that. “If you’re using words like ‘suffice,’ then I don’t think you’re all that drunk.” He takes a breath and stuffs away his lust for now. “ But I can see how being alone with me and a hotel room might be at least slightly tempting. And I wouldn’t want to jinx anything for you.”
“Not a jinx. And I’d say very tempting.” Patrick corrects.
“I wasn’t planning on tempting you very much, only a little.” David pauses, wondering if he should even hint that he had wanted to talk a little more seriously. He settles with, “I just wanted to see you.”
“Mm, I’d like that a lot. Hey, if you can pry yourself out of bed early, we could get breakfast. I’ve got practice mid morning and a whole afternoon slated for media stuff.”
Just then, Alexis barges into David’s suite. Her hair is pulled up in a messy (not artfully so) bun and her face is bare of any makeup. David sits up and waves his phone at her.
He mouths, “ I’m on the phone! ” But she just huffs at him and heads straight for his washroom.
“Is that asking too much?” Patrick asks when David accidentally pauses too long. There’s an indulgent laugh in his voice that makes David’s stomach swoop despite the interruption from Alexis.
Standing up and narrowing his eyes at his sister, David assures Patrick, “Not necessarily. How early are you talking?”
Patrick hesitates before suggesting, “Seven?”
David grimaces and shakes his head no. He can’t bring himself to say “Yes,” so he just hums in a hopefully positive way.
“I can promise amazing waffles.” Patrick sounds so hopeful. It’s endearing. “And decent company.”
“Waffles sound promising.” He hears bottles clink together, and he whips around to glare at Alexis’s back. “I guess I could put in an appearance.”
“Don’t put in too much effort,” Patrick says dryly. “I know how much you value your sleep.”
“Text me the place. I’ll set my alarm,” David says decisively. “I need to get off here. My sister is ransacking my room for some unspecified reason.”
“Uh oh,” Patrick chuckles.
After he hangs up, David rounds on Alexis. “Why are you here ?” He complains. “This is not your room.”
Alexis is pawing through the toiletries on his ensuite washroom counter, after having dirtied one of his face cloths. She unscrews the lid off his imported Italian hydration serum. “I need this. My skin is practically parched from all the cold, dry air.”
“That’s what you get for insisting on going to all those races outside.”
“I’m being a supportive girlfriend, David. Sacrifices have to be made.” Alexis carefully applies the serum.
“I shouldn’t be the one making the sacrifices for your relationship.”
When he crosses his arms at her, Alexis says, “You owe me. If I hadn’t invited you here, you wouldn’t have met that cute little hockey player.”
David narrows his eyes. “You’re supposed to use that before bed.” He says it snottily, unwilling to agree to anything she just said.
Alexis lets out a disgruntled huff. “I know that! But my skin is literally dry as the desert right now, and we’re going to dinner with Ernesto’s family in, like, two hours.”
She does look tense, and David steps into the washroom so he can hand over a tube of lotion. “Use this next,” he says softly, still annoyed but able to recognize an emergency when he sees one.
Alexis’s “Thank you,” comes out strained, but the set of her shoulders looks looser.
David rolls his eyes. “I expect you to buy me replacements when we get back home.”
His phone dings happily.
Patrick: See you tomorrow. I’ll buy you all the waffles you can eat.
David smiles down at his phone as he replies.
David: Be prepared. I can eat an alarming number of waffles.
“Are you sexting? Ew, David!” Alexis cringes with her whole body, hands against her chest. “I’m literally in the room with you.”
“Then get out,” he suggests with raised brows for emphasis. “You already pillaged my personal care items. Go away.”
Patrick: I think I can handle it.
“David!” Alexis is giving him a grossed out expression, still standing in front of him. “Stop doing that with your face!”
With a growl, David stands up and brushes past her to open his suite door. “ Leave .”
Alexis stomps her feet before heading over as she insists, “Okay, but you need to be ready to go in two hours .”
“Bye!” David says breezily before slamming the door closed in her face.
David isn’t late on purpose. But agreeing to meet at seven was wishful thinking.
Patrick’s knee is bouncing under the table when David rushes into the cafe, unwinding his scarf and hoping like hell he didn’t ruin things already. He sees the moment Patrick registers that David is there, Patrick’s face smoothing and morphing into what looks like a relieved smile before that turns into a smirk as he stands to welcome David over.
“It’s an ungodly hour,” David attempts to defend himself as he takes his coat off and hands it over when Patrick gestures for it.
Patrick doesn’t lean in to kiss him when he takes the coat, but his other hand is warm and wide where he presses it to David’s back. The black wool of his coat folds thickly over the red and white puff of Patrick’s where it is draped across the vacant chair to his left.
“I appreciate the sacrifice,” Patrick’s face looks almost flushed when he sits down. It’s cute, and it makes David feel better about the smile trying to crack free.
“I heard there would be really good waffles.”
Patrick grins at him, this open and sincere smile that is totally undeserved and that David desperately wants to see over and over again.
Patrick nods and says, “I already ordered them. The, uh,” he shifts in his chair and licks his bottom lip before continuing, “the server seemed pretty busy so I just ordered all the waffles. I didn’t know what you’d like, and I was worried he would kick me out if I didn’t order.”
“Oh,” David says softly, amused and embarrassed at the same time. He taps the empty tabletop between them idly. “What do you mean by ‘all the waffles?’”
Smoothing a hand over the back of his neck, Patrick says, “I think there are five different types. And eggs. I ordered a lot of eggs.”
It’s really, unfairly cute, and David doesn’t know how he’s supposed to not reach over and pull Patrick into a kiss for all of that. The waffles make an appearance, along with two extra servers and a total of seven plates. By the time everything is set down, Patrick and David are doing their best not to laugh too loudly at the sight of their overflowing, very small cafe table.
“Did you forget anything?” David asks once he has breath enough to do so. “We must be missing something .”
Patrick’s face is well and truly red now, but laughter is still rolling off him. He shakes his head before offering David a fork. “I hope you brought your appetite.”
David has never been one to say no to food, especially when said for is warm, soft, and delicate. He cuts into the closest waffle—one with walnuts and decorated with freshly cut cherries—and says, “I think I’ll manage.”
Patrick waits until David’s boggling over his first bite before cutting into the one with dark chocolate and caramel sauce. Instead of taking the bite, he holds his fork out as David finishes his first bite.
“This is what I had my first time here. It’s amazing.”
It’s really fucking forward, David thinks a little histerically, for Patrick to be feeding him so casually in public. But that doesn’t stop him from leaning forward and carefully taking the offering into his mouth and sliding it off the rings neatly. He tells himself as he leans back in his chair, eyes falling shut, that this is just some silly thing. It feels good to have Patrick’s eyes on him, to have that small, teasing smile directed at him.
While David chews, Patrick cuts off a bite for himself. He says, “I’m really glad you came.” That smile deepens at the corners until a dimple pops out, and he adds, “Even if I only have about twenty minutes left until I need to be back.”
David slows his eating, fork paused midway to his mouth, and frowns. This is why he doesn’t do early. He’s terrible at mornings unless someone is physically pulling him out of bed or already up from the day before. Even the promise of waffles and a cute boy weren’t enough to get him out of bed on time. He says, “I’m bad at mornings.” He’s grimacing, and he looks away from Patrick to focus on the glass of water at his left. There’s a sweat ring of condensation on the table.
Patrick doesn’t roll his eyes or give him a judge-y look. David didn’t even realize he was tensed for it until Patrick just laughs.
“You warned me.” He says it like he isn’t going to hold a grudge about it, maybe even finds David’s tardiness endearing.
Relief washes through him before Patrick’s words knife through the warmth his expression inspires in David.
“Warned,” David gets breathy, a little higher pitched as he shores up his resolve. “Um...” He clears his throat and glances around them before saying, “I’ve been wondering about something. I know, with your career, sometimes it can be prudent to keep certain details about yourself private.”
Patrick nods slowly. He says, “I mean, I’m not giving out my apartment number out to the press or anything.”
David fakes a grin because he just wants to get through this, get an answer so he can stop letting fantasy war with reality. “Good call, but I was talking more along the lines of significant others. This week, it’s all just been very chill.” He cuts past his own bullshit, and says, “Aren’t you worried that people will interpret things...between us?”
The words feel brittle, and he feels both made of glass and like nothing could rock him off his footing. Patrick isn’t Sebastien—not so obviously—from what David can tell, so it probably won’t be a cruel or flippant let-down.
Patrick ducks his head once before he looks at David from beneath those golden lashes. “It’s something I’ve thought about,” he admits. “I’ve spent...a really long time thinking about all of this, especially when Adams decided to come out publicly just after I was drafted. Seeing all the support he got helped me feel like maybe I could be myself too. I don’t know if I’m ready to make a press statement or anything, but I don’t want to hide anymore.” He sighs, “I know that’s not the answer you’re looking for.”
It’s better than he’d prepared to hear. David shakes his head. “No, that makes sense. You’re a person,” David tries to assure Patrick that he isn’t judging him, trying to fight back the elation and all the possibility he feels building up in him now. He says, “I know how hard it is to be in the public eye and be expected to fit into a box or sit on a pedestal for the public. You deserve to decide when and how to share information about yourself.”
It would be easy to leave it at that. Decide they’d talked enough about it for now, but David finds himself needing to speak up. He’s worked hard to learn to be better to himself, and part of that includes tackling the hard parts now instead of leaving himself open for heartbreak later.
“I’ve been here before. I’ve dated closeted people who had a fan base.” David says carefully, not quite looking Patrick in the eye. “It’s never been a great experience.”
Patrick gives him an unreadable but heavy look before he says, “I like you. I think I could like you a lot more.” The words are quiet, and his eyes are sincere. He sits up a little straighter. “Before I flew out, one of my closest friends talked me into dipping my toe into taking to guys. I wanted to have fun, and I have. With you.”
David nods. It’s terrifying how he can’t quite breathe as Patrick reaches across the table to touch the back of his hand.
“I’m not officially out, but I’m not hiding anymore.” It’s simple, and still potentially and probably so complicated. “I like you,” he repeats. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to hide you.”
David doesn’t say “No,” and he doesn’t decide to sit out this rollercoaster ride. Because there’s something about Patrick that makes David want to trust. This isn’t exactly what David wants to hear, but it’s not the worst case scenario he’d been building up in his mind. Patrick’s words feel real .
He flexes his fingers on the edge of the table. “Okay,” he agrees with a tentative smile that slowly widens as Patrick lets out a reliever sigh. “For the record,” David says, “I like you too.”
“Good.”
He watches the curve of Patrick’s mouth go from flat to curved until he’s grinning fully. It’s blinding, and David doesn’t know how that smile looks so different now than that first time he saw a picture of it. It’s the same one, but David feels like a deal has been struck and he might just have come out in the black.
David tucks his lips into a smile of his own. “Okay.”
The buzzer blares one final time. Alexis’s manicured nails are biting into his forearms where she grips him tightly in excitement. Their yells are immediately swallowed into the cacophony of the crowd so much so that he can’t even hear himself.
“Yay, Canada!” He catches the movement of Alexis’s mouth, her chin tipped back and the toque on her head this close to falling off.
Sweat has beaded up on David’s forehead and his hands are still clammy from the nerves of watching the game. But he looks past his sister, to the rink where Team Canada has spilled across the scarred white ice. The national anthem plays, and he can feel something deep in him start to respond and tears gather at the corners of his eyes. It’s ridiculous. It’s just a game, and he isn’t even sure of the rules.
Still, it’s almost impossible not to be moved by the sheer amount of emotion in the arena. David tracks Patrick’s movement on the ice and feels pride and happiness and relief bursting from within. He’s really fucking happy for Patrick.
Alexis presses close enough to shout so he can hear her when she asks, “Are you going to help him celebrate?” Her eyebrows go up and she squirms next to him teasingly.
Patrick had asked him to come to the final game, to be his good luck charm . And there’s nothing David wants more than to finally, finally, claim a kiss from that wicked, adorable mouth of his. He’s all too aware of the lanyard hanging around his neck, tucked beneath his sweater so it’s safe.
He tugs it free now and wags the laminated card, grinning. Alexis squeezes his arm again.
Patrick’s tee is plastered to his chest when David is finally allowed past security. He smells like beer and sweat, but his whole face transforms when he catches sight of David.
“Hi.” David doesn’t touch him, doesn’t know what’s okay here surrounded by all of Patrick’s teammates and their friends and family.
Patrick goes to pull him in for a hug, but stops with an apologetic smile. “I don’t want to mess up your clothes.” His eyes run over David’s body slowly, seemingly distracted by what he sees. A thrill shoots through David in response.
“I can get them cleaned,” David offers as he takes a half step closer, waiting and hoping for that hug.
Patrick pulls him in tight. His hands settle on David’s lower back, and David can feel the warmth seeping through the material there. It’s easy to drop his own arms over Patrick’s shoulders and lean in. This close, it’s nothing to brush his lips against Patrick’s ear and say, “Congratulations.”
“David Rose?” A very unwanted voice cuts through, too close for comfort.
Patrick’s fingers tighten at his back before releasing David. He watches David swallow.
“Hello, Sebastien.” David gives the man his iciest smile. He should know better.
Sebastien looks David over contemplatively before turning his gaze on Patrick with a knowing glint in his eye. “Well, isn’t this interesting.”
“Congratulations on the victory,” David says quickly, not enjoying the mental math Patrick seems to be doing.
The sharp smile that spreads across Sebastien’s mouth has David’s stomach sinking before he even says anything. “You’re very good at congratulating winners.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck . David gives a dismissive hum before saying, “It was nice to see you again, but you should really get back to your girlfriend over there.”
Sebastien doesn’t even look over to where David can see a very tall, very tan woman wearing a Raine sweater. “You’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, Brewer.” He turns his look to Patrick, teeth too white under the lighting. “Let me know if you need your captain to assist. I remember how much of a handful this one could be.” He seems to consider something for a moment before saying, “I think I still have the photos too, if you want to see.”
“We definitely don’t want your assistance.” Patrick says, eyes hardened as he glares at Sebastien.
Sebastien chuckles before leaning in to give David an unwanted pat on the shoulder. He uses the proximity to drop a taunting kiss too close to David’s ear, in that spot that drives David crazy when he’s turned on.
David steps back and bares his teeth in a pantomime of a smile. “Fuck off,” he says quietly, vehemently.
That just pulls another laugh from Sebastien, but he must be satisfied, because he says, “Okay, you two. This has been fun.” Like they’re old friends parting ways.
When he’s melted back into the crowd, David takes a breath and isn’t sure what to say.
“That wasn’t what I was expecting,” Patrick comments before meeting David’s eyes.
David shakes his head. “I knew him years ago. It wasn’t a good part of my history.” He grimaces, thinking about how very little of his dating past was a good part.
Patrick winces in sympathy. “Okay, I’m not going to let that jerk ruin tonight though.” His hands come back up to settle at David’s lower back, and he smiles genuinely. “This is the best night of my life.”
David smiles, amused and endeared at Patrick’s excitement. “I am pretty great, aren't I?” He teases.
“I think so.”
Patrick pushes up just enough to close the gap between them. His lips are chapped but soft around the edges when he kisses David, finally. It’s lingering, promising, and chaste for all that it ignites David’s buried desires instantaneously. Patrick’s hands slide up David’s back, and David is helpless to reel him in by neck once again. He leans into the kiss and is met with an equal force.
Five Months Later
“I almost forgot,” Patrick says later, sitting up and pulling his jeans back up his legs.
David doesn’t move from where he’s stretched out on the floor behind the desk in his office. Every muscle in his body is relaxed, and he could fall asleep right here in the late afternoon sun spilling in through the windows. He makes an interested noise as he watches Patrick from lowered lashes.
Patrick sits back down after grabbing the styrofoam box he’d set down a half an hour ago. Crossing his legs, he settles next to David and flips the lid open. “Happy anniversary.”
David is well aware of the day, and Patrick knows about David’s hang-up over anniversaries. But Patrick thinks it cute to mess with David like this, and David is frustratingly charmed by the way Patrick still seems to want him.
Sitting up and straightening out his shirt, David looks at the double decker waffle covered in powdered sugar and cut strawberries. There’s a cheap candle in the shape of the number five stuck into the middle.
“I brought a lighter,” Patrick grins as he fishes said item from a pocket to flick the wick into life.
“Dirty play,” David whines as he watches Patrick light the candle and carefully hold the box between them. He’s smiling. “How am I supposed to say no to this?”
Patrick leans over to drop a kiss on David’s shoulder. “You’re not supposed to say no. You’re supposed to blow out the candle and enjoy the rest of the night.”
David nods, feeling loose and happier than he can ever remember being. It’s easy to forget to be nervous or anxious when Patrick is looking at him like there’s no question that another anniversary is just around the corner. No question that they’ll be together.
David blows the candle out with Patrick before plucking a strawberry up and holding it out for his boyfriend. Patrick’s tongue slicks between his fingers before he takes the fruit into his mouth.
They eat the waffle together with their fingers, trading kisses between bites until only a few crumbs and the candle are left. David flops back down and rests his head against Patrick’s chest while he basks.
Five minutes later, David blinks awake from the light doze he’d fallen into when his phone dings with a notification.
Patrick’s fingers card through David’s hair as he checks his phone.
It’s an Instagram notification.
It’s a photo of the empty box lying haphazardly between his and Patrick’s legs, their ankles tangled together, and the skyline highlighted behind the setting sun before them.
The caption reads: Happy five months, babe.
Patrick tagged David’s profile.
Dropping his phone, David reaches up and curves his hand behind Patrick’s neck to pull him in for another kiss, doesn’t want to stop kissing him. But he has to pull back just enough to confess, “I love you.”
Patrick’s eyes are warm as honey when I says, “I love you,” without hesitation.
End.