Work Text:
"I don't get it," Sharpy says.
Kaner huffs. "Just deliver it to Jonny, okay? You can leave it on his pillow or whatever. Just... he just needs to get it."
"I still don't get it. Last time, you guys rode in the same cab to the gold medal game, and this time," Sharpy pauses to wiggle the envelope in front of Kaner's face, "you can't even meet up with him long enough to give him a letter?"
For some reason, that makes Kaner's eyes drop to the ground and his entire frame droop. "It's different."
"How?"
"Things have changed. We're... it's different." Kaner sighs, then adds, "Look, just give it back. I can get Duncs to do it."
"Hey hey hey, no can do." Sharpy snaps the envelope back and up, not high enough that Kaner couldn't reach it if he tried, but enough to get his point across. "If you say you can't do this, then I got it."
Kaner shakes his head, smiling, and says, "I'd say, 'I knew I could count on you,' but..."
"Yeah, well." Sharpy shrugs. He angles the envelope up towards the sun, squinting at the compact outline inside. "What's in here, anyway? Is it hockey shit? Are you selling out the homeland?"
"You wish," Kaner laughs, but it's weak, and when Sharpy looks up, Kaner's pale. It surprises him enough that it must show, because Kaner's wincing all of a sudden. "Confidential," Kaner says. "Jonny's eyes only."
"I can't have a look?"
"No!" Kaner snaps, too loud, too quick.
"Okay, okay!" Sharpy says. "You can trust me, little man. Jeez."
He's not lying - Kaner can trust him. Sharpy always has Kaner's best interests in mind. Whatever's in the envelope seems to be causing Kaner a lot of distress, though, and… and Sharpy always has Kaner's best interests in mind.
He won't act on it, whatever he sees, Sharpy swears to himself as he sits alone in his and Jonny's hotel room and shimmies one fingertip into a loose corner of the envelope. He just needs to know what's going on, that's all, and if Kaner won't tell him...
Sharpy smiles down at the blocky scrawl that reads "SAFETY SEAL" over the glued flap and tears right through.
He's not sure what he's expecting to find, but another envelope isn't it. Especially not a pink one. That smells like Kaner's cologne.
"What the fuck?" Sharpy mutters, pulling out the smaller envelope and turning it slowly. It's not just pink, it's pastel pink, and there's a faint pattern of swirling flowers and vines watermarked into the paper. The back says "Jonny" in fanciful but uneven letters, like someone with no calligraphy experience picked up a brush pen and went at it. There's a thumbprint drooping out of the flourish on the letter y, slightly smeared but still distinct, and when Sharpy flips the envelope over, he's greeted by a prismatic heart sticker.
"It's a prank," Sharpy says with awe. "That fucker's pranking Toes and he didn't even let me in on it!"
It's shameful is what it is - a wasted opportunity. For one, the whole ordeal's just too cliche. It's like Kaner's working off of romance novel cliches and not any actual knowledge of what real people find romantic. No lady would put a red sticker on pink stationery, for starters. And the horrible calligraphy is not a case of A for effort. Mistake number two is the delivery. Kaner should've left it at the front desk and paid the concierge to be discreet, or at least told Sharpy to put it on Tazer's pillow and then scram. If he'd handed this right to Toes...
Maybe it's a prank on him.
Sharpy turns that idea over, then decides it's way past Kaner's prank level. He has to be sure, though. For all he knows, the letter might claim to be from Sharpy, or worse, implicate Sharpy in something else entirely. He can't take that chance.
And he's still looking out for Kaner. Keeping Peekaboo's best interests in mind. Let's not forget that.
Sharpy's more careful opening this envelope, peels the sticker back carefully and breathes a sigh of relief when the flap pops free. The paper inside is bright fuchsia, yet more evidence that Kaner really should've come to him for help on this one. Sharpy slips the paper free, grimacing when more of Kaner's heinous cologne scent pours forth (perfume is not the same thing as cologne; he has much to teach the kid), and unfolds it with light fingertips.
I love you.
"Fuck," Sharpy coughs. He has a lot to teach Kaner.
I should’ve told you before Sochi, the letter continues, and Sharpy's too busy shaking his head to think about anything too deeply, so he starts skimming, eyes flicking over haphazard writing and translucent spots of cologne-soaked paper, trying to find where the good stuff starts.
I'll love you even if you beat us.
That's where Sharpy drops the letter.
The paper lands face down on the floor, halfway folded back in on itself, and Sharpy catches a glimpse of something on the back. A drawing. A drawing of stick figures. Stick figures fucking.
This is way outside of Sharpy's realm of experience.
Sharpy sits down on the edge of his bed without looking. He almost calls Abby to ask for help, remembers the time difference with his thumb hovering over the call button, and slams one fist down against the comforter. He's not... this isn't a prank. If this isn't a prank, he's got so much more to worry about. If this isn't a prank, he has less teaching and more protecting in his future.
If this isn't a prank...
He stands up quickly, refolds and repacks the letter with the very tips of his fingers, and leans the envelope against Jonny's pillow, name side out.
Now he just has to wait.
He's got one life left in Candy Crush when the door lock buzzes open. "Hey," Jonny says, and Sharpy jerks his chin up in acknowledgment and fights to keep his eyes on his phone. There's some light shuffling as Jonny toes off his shoes and slumps over towards his bed, then suddenly everything goes silent. Sharpy swallows.
"What's this?"
Finally, Sharpy drags his gaze up to meet Jonny's. "What's what?"
"This letter," Jonny says, his voice tight and his face blaring. "What the fuck is it, Sharpy?"
"How am I supposed to know?"
Jonny sighs. "C'mon. I'm tired. Just... save me some time and tell me if this is full of itching powder."
"There's writing on it, yeah?"
"Yeah? And?"
Sharpy rolls his eyes. "Does that look like my handwriting?"
"No," Jonny grumps, "but that doesn't... you could've..." His mouth clicks shut then, and Sharpy swears he can hear the gears in Jonny's head whirring. Calligraphy fail or not, he's gotta be able to recognize Kaner's handiwork. Jonny sucks in his upper lip and chews on it for a moment before sitting down on the bed. "Whatever," he mutters, but he's already flipping the envelope over, smirking down at the heart sticker even as his cheeks go fiery red to match it.
Jonny snickers as he pops the letter open, and Sharpy holds his breath. He can tell the moment Jonny stops mocking the stationery in his head and takes in what the text says; his eyebrows flick up and stay up while his mouth drops open. He looks like he's watching a jumbotron replay, letting everything focus in slow motion, analyzing every beat.
Sharpy's not sure what he'll do if Jonny laughs. Jonny's his boy, and he's always got his boys' backs, but Kaner's his boy too. And Kaner's Kaner.
He doesn't have to figure it out, because Jonny doesn't laugh. Jonny doesn't ball it up, Jonny doesn't go white, Jonny doesn't twist the paper between his fingers. Jonny just smiles. He smiles with his whole face, his eyes crinkling and his chin sinking down to his neck. After a moment, Jonny lets out a tight noise, like a cartoon character gulping, and he... he literally covers his mouth with one hand. Sharpy wasn't aware anyone besides little old ladies did that. Actually, he wasn't aware anyone did that in real life. Jonny's doing it, though, his captain is doing it, knuckles pulsing like he's overloaded, like his skin's not enough to hold back whatever's surging through him.
Sharpy watches as Jonny closes his eyes softly, squeezes the paper between his fingers, and then flips the note over. Jonny doesn't roll his eyes or groan or do any of the reasonable things that Sharpy would expect. Instead, he smiles. He smiles like a lovesick dope. If Sharpy didn't know better, he'd think there was a picture of a puppy there, based on the fondness level of Jonny's smiling. As it is, Sharpy's forced to deal with the fact that his idiot teammate drew stick figures buttfucking, and his other idiot teammate is somehow charmed by that.
This is Sharpy's life.
On the bright side, this probably means that there won't be any hearts broken. Not right now, anyway. Which means Sharpy's sense of brotherly obligation is officially sated.
"Hey," Sharpy says, and he pretends like he doesn't notice the way Jonny jolts back to reality and fails at schooling his face into something impassive.
"Yeah?" Jonny says roughly. He clears his throat and tries again. "What is it, Sharpy?"
"I'm gonna go for a walk. Maybe go see if-" not Kaner, not Kaner, don't say Kaner "-Hoss or Zeus wanna hang. Knock back a couple beers with the hometown crew or whatever."
"No," Jonny says, a little too fast to be casual, but Sharpy doesn't call him on it; never let it be said that Sharpy isn't merciful. "I'm," Jonny adds, "uh, I'm good. Here. Thanks."
"Probably be out for a while," Sharpy sighs breezily. "Might be a couple hours. Sure you don't want in?"
Jonny's smile is crooked, but so warm and so hopeful underneath the forced quirk that Sharpy has to force down a pang of homesickness. "I'm sure."
"Suit yourself," Sharpy says. He waves as he slips out the door, pretending not to see the way Jonny fumbles with his phone as soon as Sharpy starts to move. He stays outside the door long enough to hear Jonny's voice slide thick like a knit blanket, long enough to catch a bump of syllables that sounds like "Patrick," and then walks away.
He may love his ugly ducklings, but he doesn't need (or want) to be around for this. Time to find somewhere else to be.
For a few hours.
And however many more every day in Sochi after this.
And hopefully they can have their forever after back in Chicago far, far out of Sharpy's hearing range.
Hopefully.
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Front of Letter:
I love you. I should’ve told you before Sochi. It never felt right so I didn't and now I got to do it this way and you probably won't believe me but it's all I've got. I love you now. I loved you a month ago. I'll love you even if you beat us. I love you with all my The Notebook love you. You remember that part in Lord of the Rings where the Strider dude gets Liv Tyler's necklace and it's her life and she gave it to him. I love you like that. I elf necklace love you. I love you and I thought you should know that before everything gets crazy and we have to play I have to kick your ass. I love you and you should know I love you. No matter what, I love you.
P.S. Check the back of this.
Back of Letter:
