Chapter Text
It wasn't just any day for the Bruins' starting goalie Tuukka Rask, it was possibly the most important day of his life. The 2019 NHL Awards had arrived, among him many of the finest players in the league. To him, being nominated for the Vezina was special, but he had the overwhelming feeling like he didn't belong on the red carpet, only inches away from superstars like Connor McDavid.
As soon as he makes his way to the venue, the cameras are fluttering and flashing in his grinch-like face, an unbearable experience for the usually modest man. When he looks one way, the paparazzi are yelling for him to look the other direction. "Pose, baby!" One shouts from afar, and he can already feel the pressure building up inside him like a sexy volcano. How he wants so badly to swat at them all with his goalie gloves on; to knock them all to the ground like bowling pins with his blockers.
A sigh of relief escaped him when he finally spotted someone he knew - his former backup Dobby, almost unrecognizable in his victory green suit and top hat. Of all the teams he had to be traded to, the Stars weren't the absolute best, but it was a nice surprise to see that green looked good on him. Better than the Habs, Tuukka thought, as he pushed his way past the crowds.
Anton, busy signing miscellaneous collectables, peered up from his scribbling to give him a wink. "You and me, old friend." He smiles, grabbing Tuukka by the shoulder and leading the pair indoors, away from the scorching heat. He too had been nominated for the Vezina, a sense of awkward competition between the two, though they tried to keep things amicable. It was sports, after all. "Say, how about whoever wins buys dinner. It would be nice to catch up some more. Tell me about this Halak guy, eh?"
Tuukk gulps at the idea of taking him out to dinner, pouring him wine by the candlelight while Italian music plays in the background. He would take him by the hand and tell him how he feels, how he's felt for all these years. Playing with him were some of the best years of his life, truthfully. But he can't; his dedication to Anton is long gone, replaced by his love for pop sensation Justin Bieber.
Though no one except a few teammates knew, Tuukka had been seeing Justin for a few months. They had met by chance, though some would call it destiny, in the TD Garden restroom and hit it off immediately. A complete match, he loved listening to JB's beautiful serenades in the morning, the way his greasy blond hair stuck to his forehead effortlessly. And Justin felt just as strongly, dedicating lyrics in his songs to Tuukk. The way he threw milk crates kept him completely captivated, and he knew he was the one for him, for the goalie was his muse.
He has fond memories of when Justin first asked him out. The pop singer had showed up outside his bedroom window one night a few weeks after they had met, a bouquet of skate blades in one hand and a bucket of chicken wings in the other. The words flew out of his mouth so melodically; he remembers exactly what was sang: "If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I can take you places you ain’t never been before." And that was all the convincing Tuukka needed, as he leapt out of the window that night and into JB's arms.
There were issues like any couple would have, the main problem of Justin being a Leafs fan. It took convincing, but he was able to to get JB to denounce this title, and to proudly wear his jersey to games instead. He had to admit, black and gold looked so much hotter on him, and it made his teammates happier too.
"Of course, of course." Tuukka beams back artificially to Anton, his attention being captured across the room. Justin was there, in a poorly made disguise, placing hors d'oeuvres in his pockets. A fake moustache was sliding down his face, him reaching up to slap it back into place while stuffing cheese and crackers in his face. "Um, I'm sorry but I must excuse myself," he says frantically, before slipping away to go and collect his boyfriend.
"What do you think you're doing here, huh?" he seethes, dragging Justin away from the crowds of people. He smells like cologne and sweat, like after one of his 5 hour concerts. The door of a random utility closet slams behind them, and now they're alone.
"I'm here to support you, baby," Justin sighs, placing his hand softly on his boyfriend's face. Tuukk rests his hand on his, letting the warmth permeate his skin. "Is it too late now to say sorry?"
"But you know you can't be here. No one can know we're together, do you know how much trouble I'd be in? Do you know how it would impact our careers?" He looks up and down JB's face, who appears to be visibly disappointed. It would be a bad idea to come out to the world as a couple, at least not until Tuukka was retired. He wasn't allowed to come out in the NHL; Gary Bettman was making all his money off of Crosby, and rumor started that he was having a program being installed into Sid's software so he could be the first openly gay player. Everything was about him one way or another, and god only knows how much Bettman would capitalize off rainbow Pens jerseys; the Check Please fans would buy them all up.
Justin trailed his hand down to his shoulder, reaching up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. His breath smelt of colby jack as he spoke, looking Tuukk directly in the eyes. "As long as you love me, we could be starving, we could be homeless, we could be broke." Oh, how he had a way with words.
"I'll think about it," he smiles back, taking JB's hands in his. "But right now, I have to take my seat for the ceremony."