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Chapter Text

Auston grabs his hand when they're out with the team, because he's hamming up them being co-dependant, and Mitch wants to snatch his hand away like it burns.

It isn't funny anymore. At first, he could bear it, got a cheap thrill from how it was almost what he wanted, nearly something, walking the line of funny and genuine affection, who wouldn't want that. Now -

Now it's just fucking ridiculous. Auston will snuggle up to him sometimes or rest his head on his shoulder on flights. Patty joked one time about when Auston was gonna introduce Mitch to his parents, ha ha. Like, what is that. It hurts and it's not real, but the awful thing is that if he let himself be delusional for a second, it'd feel it.

He thinks coldly of all the times they've slept in the same bed and nearly laughs. Since when had that been normal. Since when does he think it's okay to shuffle just a little closer when Auston's asleep and imagine, just fool himself, that this is what he'll wake up to. Auston will haul him closer, and they'll drift that way, tangled up and still.

It's creepy, he realises very suddenly, and feels like he's been boarded. That was creepy of him.

He pretends he's got a text so he can free his hand, and when he reaches into his pocket the friendship bracelet catches on one of his coat buttons. Great. Fucking wonderful.

-

Auston catches up with him when he's going home early, waiting for his uber and shivering.

"Hey," he says, soft. "Why'd you leave without goodbye?"

"Oh. Just wasn't feeling it. Feel all banged up from earlier, and drinking was making me feel a bit nauseous."

Nothing much had happened, even. He'd just been tripped, but his shin is bruised along with his elbow and he's tired and maybe wants his mom.

"Hold the cab if it gets here? I'll come."

Mitch freezes a second. He doesn't want him to. He wants to go home alone and stew in his misery. If Auston's there he'll doubtlessly be all affectionate because hey, that's just how he is, especially the wrong side of 5 beers.

Mitch dithers, not knowing if it'll be harder to wait or just flee now.

Apparently he waits too long, because Auston returns with his jacket, smiling. A small part of him turns traitorous and lets him know that it wouldn't take much to imagine this as them going home together as a couple. Auston would take his hand maybe. Kiss the top of his head when he leant it on his shoulder. Share a bed together and spoon on purpose.

Fucking hell, he's pathetic. Wanting to cry because they're sharing a taxi home. Or, at least, one of their homes. They don't have a home together. That's - really something his subconscious thought, huh. Whenever he'd said it aloud, it was always let's get a cab home. Not back to mine/yours.

He thinks suddenly of a postcard he'd seen last week, a zoomed in picture of street art that said "if you were here I'd be home by now". Fuck.

He's been like this for an entire year, and it isn't appropriate for him to keep up this dumb, clingy aspect of their friendship.

It's just really difficult. Auston dozes on his shoulder some of the journey, and the temptation to slip his hand into Auston's like earlier arises, and he's glad he doesn't stir when Mitch has to swipe at his eyes.

-

He wakes up the next day back at square one, because Auston has accidently thrown an arm over his waist in the night. He can feel Auston's heartbeat slow and steady against his back. He's stolen the covers so much that he's practically made himself a sleeping bag, and it's such a soft few seconds where he lets himself lean into it and pretend.

Maybe, if they were together, Auston would snuggle closer as he woke, early enough that they have time to luxuriate. Maybe he'd kiss Mitch's shoulders and grind his morning wood against his ass and tenderly take him apart.

Mitch sniffles. He can believe it until he looks down. They - he - doesn't even look right, like this. Auston holding him close feels fake. He looks alien being given this affection when he knows that any notion of them as an item is a joke, quite literally. That Auston being this way with him is because Mitch wants it and it's no skin from Auston's nose. It looks comical, not sweet, for Mitch to be all over him. It's Auston being nice, not loving.

He pictures himself when he'd snuggled up to Auston in the past, when it was just the two of them, and cringes. Now that he thinks about it, Auston never initiated those. He didn't open his arms unprompted. Never did it on purpose.

Suddenly Mitch wants to wake him up. He wants to double check what happens when he sees that they're wrapped up together. He wants Auston to -

Just like that, the temptation dies, because what he was imagining was so fucking bizarre it knocked any doubt he had out of him.

He wants Auston to pull him closer and link their fingers. Tell him he loves him, shh, it's okay. Go back to sleep.

He cringes. He's too needy as it is, so hell knows how much worse he'd be if his love was requited. Suffocating, probably.

Too full on. Too clingy. Very quickly regretted.

Auston once asked if he was, because he was "clinging more than usual" and Mitch had frozen where he'd been about to put his head in Auston's lap. It felt like a slap, jerking him back to reality.

He'd really been about to do that, like personal space was some vague concept to him. As though laying on someone and entertaining vague ideas of them running their fingers through your hair is standard.

"More than usual", like it wasn't just this particular behaviour that was smothering. It was other stuff too.

"Fuck, sorry." He'd said, faking a laugh, avoiding Auston's eyes. "Sorry, I'm just tired."

Auston looked nonplussed.

"Hey, no, you can stay if you like."

He'd flinched away before he could stop himself.

"Don't worry about it, I'm heading home anyway."

"Mitch? Are you okay? You know you can sleep here right?"

Sleep here. There's an offer that wouldn't be on the table if he knew, but still he was tempted.

"It's okay, I won't impose."

"You're not imposing! I just wondered. You've been - I don't know, looking distracted and -"

"I'm fine." Mitch'd preemptively replied. "Seriously, I'd tell you if I wasn't. I'm sorry, though. I shouldn't have done that. I don't know why I keep thinking it's right for me to just - be like this. You don't need that."

Awkward silence had followed. Auston hadn't corrected him, hadn't said anything at all.

Confirmation. He really was making Auston uncomfortable the entire time.

He'd not tried again after that.

-

Auston's family visited a couple of weeks after that.

"You should come over for dinner one night." Auston said, sleepy as he got into the car for morning practice. "My mom keeps asking after you."

Mitch swallowed roughly, tacking on some approximation of a smile.

"And sample your cooking again? Come on. Hard pass."

Auston rolled his eyes, drawing lines on the fogged up window.

"She's cooking. Well, she's gonna bully us all into helping, but it's gonna be great. Naturally, she wants you there. You can do all the heavy lifting bringing the groceries in."

Christ, this was rough.

"Isn't that what you're for?"

Auston snorted.

"Nah, apparently I need to watch what she's doing because, in her words, I'm a failure as a cook. Seriously, she suggested I take notes. She thinks getting meals delivered ready prepped is cheating. She'll probably critique the dessert I'm supposed to be making. I don't know how to make any desserts. Last year I tried making cupcakes for Breyana's birthday and I forgot eggs. I'm considering faking my own death."

Stop, Mitch thinks. Just shut up with this shit. This isn't for me. This is some meet the in-laws romcom stuff. He's been working on stopping daydreaming, stopping the sleepovers, the cuddling up. He no longer even entertains the fantasies of Auston loving him like that, of wanting him in his space.

Times like this, though. They make it harder.

Auston frowns at him when he doesn't laugh.

"Mitch?"

Mitch swallows with no small amount of difficulty.

"Yeah, you're gonna have to go this one alone, buddy." He says.

Auston peers at him closer, scrutinising, but his eyes are half mast.

"Since when have you turned down free food?"

"Since you were involved in it?"

Auston sighs.

"What's going on with you?" He says softly, and Mitch knows he's gonna fall asleep again, because he's not and never will be a morning person.

Sure enough, he does, slumped back and looking far too cosy and inviting to curl up with for 7.45am -

He remembers to cut himself off before that thought goes anywhere, letting out a deep breath and feeling as though he'd dodged a bullet.

-

If Auston is stung by how Mitch very purposefully keeps himself to himself now, he doesn't say. It isn't something mourned or missed.

He's probably relieved, Mitch thinks, and deletes the text asking Auston over he'd been about to send.

They've spent a solid chunk of time together at practice. It'd be overkill to push for more, but his apartment feels too big and too quiet sometimes. It was always nice to have just the two of them, sat closer that they should be, watching garbage reality shows. It used to make his chest flutter, but now he feels the ache of missing it like a phantom limb. He wants Auston here all the time.

That's not actually Auston's concern, though. If he wanted to hang out he'd come over. He doesn't need to hassle him over how he feels lonely, and he doesn't want to ruin the progress he's been making in letting go. 

Mitch locks his phone and tosses it to the other end of the couch so he won't be tempted. 

Chapter Text

When he's packing for their next away game, he notices just how much of Auston's stuff has ended up in his wardrobe. He hadn't even thought of that, of how he took for granted that it was fine for him to just borrow his clothes. Not even pjs from when he's stayed over and forgot to bring some, but actual proper going out stuff. Eight garments, including a sweater that's (naturally) too big for him, but had unwittingly become his go-to comfort item. What the fuck. Keen is not the word. He sees himself briefly, wrapped up when he's by himself, pressing the fabric closer absently.

He imagines Auston catching him like that.

Just the thought makes his blood chill.

He'd look like a fucking creep. Obsessive and needy and everything he's working at not being.

Every time he thinks he's over it, that progress is being made, he trips up. He's always finding little things he did that he has to stop or apologise for or correct. He's tired, bone deep.

Mitch bags up all the stolen items of clothing to give back. I'm going to fix this, he thinks.

-

Everything caves in, very suddenly, when he makes to give the stuff back.

"The fuck is this?" Auston had says bluntly, no inflection.

Mitch stumbled a little, because he'd not expected any resistance. It's hardly controversial to give back borrowed things.

"I - I'm just giving you your stuff? I was trying to pack and I kept picking up your shirt because it's white like the rest, and I figured th-"

Auston stares at him, disbelieving.

"Bullshit. You've been withdrawing for ages, you barely tell me how you're feeling anymore, it's always just "oh I'm fine" when it's obviously not. I'm - tired of it."

Mitch bristles.

"Sorry if I'm actually maturing as a person."

"Ha, good one. If that's your answer, why are you still yourself with everyone but me? What the fuck have I done?"

Vertigo slams into him, because he may want this to just be over with, but never at the cost of Auston blaming himself.

"Nothing! Nothing, you've done nothing, I promise. I just - I think I, fuck. Sorry. I don't know how to word it. I just - I should need you less, y'know? We shouldn't be so joined at the hip. It's - bad. Weird."

"What?" Auston says, voice cracking. He looks even more miserable now, and Mitch doesn't know how to turn this around. It's like he has all the fragments of explanations that don't out him as a lovesick fool, but no idea how to assemble them. "Why would you say that?"

"It's not your fault! It's nothing bad, right? I realised when I was trying to find embarrassing photos of you for that birthday banner we all made, it was so obvious that I'm too clingy, then when you said so yourself a while after, it all clicked into place. I'm - I was the only one all over you to that extent, and you weren't exactly doing it in return, y'know? I overstepped over and over again, and the more I thought about it the more I saw and - I'm just. I'm sorry. I'm doing better now, and this just seemed like the next step."

"And the step after that? Talking less? Silent car rides? Not seeing each other outside of our jobs? Not talking at all?"

He sounds panicked and upset. Mitch feels nauseated.

You did this, he thinks.

"Of course not." He murmurs. He can't even look Auston in the eye. "It'd never come to that, I promise."

"What fucking good is a promise when you won't even tell the truth?"

"I have! I just want things to be normal again. I don't want to keep making you uncomfortabl-"

Auston blinks.

"Wait, when the fuck have I said that?"

"You haven't, but - it's okay. I mean, you don't have to. It was hard to accept at first but, it's whatever."

Mitch tries to smile reassuringly but it's probably overshadowed by the humiliation that's clawing at him. It's not like he can say why he's actually holding himself back. It's not "whatever". It's not just "difficult to accept", it's Auston not loving him back. It's breaking his heart.

"Wait - where have you even gotten this from?"

"I dunno man, the everything about me?" He snorts. "Nah, it was - you know when it was movie night, and I went to put my head in your lap, and you just called it as it was - clingy? It brought it all home, and I started noticing stuff."

Auston is looking at him funny, incredulous maybe.

"What stuff?"

"Come on..." Mitch bristles again. It's that or get all weepy, he guesses.

Auston frowns.

"No, if you're gonna upheave an entire friendship over this, I wanna know why. What stuff?"

"I - look, it's practically a running joke that we're codependent now, right? Old married couple style. I remember you saying I was clingy and it made me re-evaluate things, and suddenly it was so obvious. I monopolise you and don't give you personal space and leant in to the whole coupley bullshit, and it wasn't fair of me. I did it enough that Patty did this whole I've got your back no matter what routine. It was rough."

"Wait, seriously? You didn't tell me?"

"Auston, why are you fighting this! There's a difference between not minding and wanting it. Also, need I remind you of you asking if I was okay because I was quote unquote more clingy than usual?"

"And I never got an answer!"

It's not a take back, Mitch realises coldly.

He can feels his eyes prickling. Come on, he thinks to himself. You're hardly dispelling that idea. Pull yourself together.

"I'm sorry, okay! I was like that because that's just - me. There's not anything wrong. It's just how I am and I didn't -" He squeezes his eyes shut, nausea creeping in. His lashes feel wet. "-I didn't even realise that it was so, fuck. Awkward."

His voice breaks on the last word. Jesus. He's trying to say he's fine with not being so overbearing whilst nearly crying about the idea of not being so overbearing.

Auston reaches for him and he flinches away.

"No! See, you don't have to! I don't want you to, I don't want any of this. I don't need you being so close all the fucking time to placate me!"

Auston makes a choked sound.

"Mitch, what the fuck, why-"

"Because I know you only do it for my sake? Because I don't want to be known as this - clinging, suffocating friend? I know how it looks, okay? I didn't even notice all this time, but it really hit me when you mentioned it. I demand so -" He swipes at his eyes, furious at himself. "I demand so much of you. What the fuck do you get in return?"

Silence. Absolute hear-a-pin-drop silence.

"Auston?" His voice wobbles. Say something. Anything. Please, he thinks.

Each second drags by. Mitch lets the count get to ten before he finally puts to bed any hope he had left, but it shouldn't have taken this much. He nods to himself.

Right.

"So that's why I knew I just. I had to change it up, when Patty gave his whole supportive dad speech. Even he'd noticed what I was like. It really brought it home, you know? So I got back after that and I just thought about it, about my behaviour and how I always overstep, and I'm gonna be better, okay? I'm trying and this is just a slip up. I promise. I'm - I'm going to make it stop."

Mitch swallows roughly. It's all out in the open now. He's not even pretending not to cry.

Auston gulps audibly.

"What did Patty even say?" He says, and Mitch doesn't know if that's him sounding distant or if his ears are ringing slightly.

"How the is that important?"

"Just - answer me."

"He said - look, just. Put aside the fact he thought we were dating. Obviously that's - not happening. I know that that's a whole different can of worms."

"Yeah. Guess so. Go on." Auston mutters, looking at his feet. He doesn't sound disgusted. He sounds like he feels nothing at all.

"He - He said that he knows how close we are. How we just clicked. And he was so proud that we were able to work out that we -"

Mitch pauses, wishing he was sat down and not awkwardly stood in the hallway. The cherry on the cake is how the stress is making all his aches from getting boarded a few nights ago worse. 

"-That we were able to work out that we wanted each other like that, because he'd seen how I looked at you, and he worried that you'd break my heart. But he's glad you didn't, that it's mutual. He's proud and he loves us, yadda yadda yadda."

Hearing it out loud he realises how ridiculous it was. The pictures he had in his head of Auston reciprocating, kissing him, looking at him all soft in the context of wanting him - they were silly, sickly things. That's not for him, not for his greedy little hands to try and take for himself. There's not going to be some moment where Auston kisses him softly and presses him into his sheets, gently, tenderly. He's gonna have to break it to Patty in case Auston hooks up with someone when they go out.

No, we're not together. Yes, I want us to be together. No, he can't know. Please stop giving me supportive dad advice or I will cry. Then he'll cry and Patty will willingly hug him. Then he'll go home and pick Auston up in the mornings and pretend this never happened.

"So, yeah. That's how it went down. I was too shocked to even say anything because it surprised me. I didn't think any notion of us being a thing was for real, and I was speechless and he took that as me being shocked he was accepting instead of - fuck, I don't even know. I just know I should have said something but I was spiralling, then the kids got home, and the longer it was, the more awkward it was to rectify."

Auston twitches, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, trying to get his words right. It's weird in a whole new way, because Mitch can usually anticipate what he'll say. Not this time.

"How long ago was that?" He says finally, and Mitch cringes.

"Couple of weeks ago, maybe. Same day we got those jackets."

The fucking matching Gucci jackets. They're so tacky and busy, but that's not the reason they hurt to think of this time. Jesus.

"Huh. You were acting weird that day."

Mitch feels weirdly affronted.

"I wasn't."

"You were. You didn't sing along to anything all day."

He looks thoughtful, weirdly calm. Conversational as opposed to considering ending a friendship. Mitch doesn't know if that's better or worse.

"That doesn't mean shit." He says weakly.

"I mean. It definitely does. You sing badly to everything. Last week you sang along to an ad jingle for car insurance. Not even one you do sponsored content for."

"Oh, fuck you." He says, laughing in spite of himself. Auston looks too fond for this entire conversation, but at least it seems like it's nearly over. "I do the best sponsored content."

"Pretty low bar, if we're honest with ourselves. Also, you don't."

Mitch rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Whatever. That's not important. The important thing is that we're good...we're good, right?"

Auston sighs, a great heaving thing. It makes his shirt pull across his shoulders interestingly, but he's almost too sad to to be shallow. Yikes.

"We're good." He says eventually, leaning to bumping their shoulders before deciding against it and pulling him into a hug. Mitch's stomach clenches, one arm trapped between them, the other wrapped around Auston's shoulders. Under his hand he can feel Auston's heart pounding. It's weird, because from the outside he looks calm.

"Uh." He murmurs, pulling away before he actually wants to, because he'd leant to push his cheek against Auston's shoulder before he could stop himself. "Sorry, I've uh - gotta work on that, I guess."

He laughs, but even to him it sounds like this fake, drab thing. He doesn't want to stop, but also he doesn't want to be selfish. One option leaves him pining, the other breaks his heart just a little bit, but is best long term. It's no contest in the end.

"Mitch, you don't have to - fucking second guess everything. I don't really care what people think, you know that right?"

Something must show on his face, because Auston looks weirdly stung.

"Genuinely, I don't. I didn't mean for you to take me asking why you were clingier as something bad. It's not, I just - realised a while ago that you were looking distracted sometimes, and it correlated with you wanting more affection, and I thought I'd ask."

This is somehow worse than laying himself bare before.

"Whoa, watch out, Auston Matthews, future counsellor."

"Hey -"

"No, it's not bad! You're just more perceptive than I gave you credit for."

Auston squirms.

"Yeah, I rang my mama for advice, so what."

Mitch groans.

"You rang your mom?!"

"I was concerned! She said someone trying to distance themselves from people is because something is bothering them, but they want to protect others from worrying over them about it!"

"You've just got that whole schpiel memorised, huh."

Auston thumps him in the arm.

"Shut up and spill."

Mitch is absolutely not going to do that.

"Do you want me to do one or the other? Because those are complete opposites, buddy."

Auston rolls his eyes, and it's an expression he's seen on Ema before, usually when Auston was whiny at her over something or other and she'd act begrudging as she doled out affection. Mitch swallows painfully. Shit like that is the problem, all the soft little intricacies of Auston's personal life that aren't his to know or cherish.

"Stop deflecting."

"I'm not! I'm not, I promise. Honestly? I'm just working on some stuff. On not being such an attention seeker. Gotta mature or something, because I - I know you said things are fine as is, but they're - they're not. Patty literally thought we were an item because of how needy I am. That's - bad. I know that now, I know it isn't fair of me." He takes a shuddery breath. "So I'm working on it, and I'll be better, and I promise it's nothing to do with you."

I love you, he thinks. I fucking love you, you dumbass.

"I -" Auston starts, then has a weird cycle of expressions. There's a flash of naked hurt, and Mitch wants to ask, wants to grab on to what it might mean and run with it, but then he looks neutral again and he's squeezing Mitch's shoulder. His fingers reach to the base of his neck, and it's too tender by far, given the situation. "Whatever makes you happy, Mitch." He says, then quieter; "I just want you to always be happy."

Mitch tries not to be floored, even if he doesn't mean it like that.

"Okay. Thank you, man."

There's a stretch of silence, and Mitch frantically scrambles for something to break it. His eyes settle on the clothes.

"Hey, so, do you want those tiger print shorts back or can I burn them?"

Auston snorts, and Mitch knows they're both fronting to change the subject, but it's working. His eyes catch on the dimples in Auston's cheeks as he glances down, the small red line on his cheek where his visor smacked into it last week. He wants to kiss it.

"They're not that bad..." Auston counters.

"They're covered in repeat pattern of angry tigers on a neon background. They hurt my eyes."

"Man, fuck you." He laughs, then the conversation moves on to something more safe: gossiping about other teams. It's not what he wants, and he still feels scraped out on the inside, numb from it, but he'll take it.

Worryingly, it doesn't feel like he dodged the bullet at all.

Chapter Text

The first kiss they share is in the afternoon, in some anonymous hotel, but maybe Auston is getting a little ahead of himself in thinking it over, because as happy and floaty he feels now, curled around Mitch as he sleeps, it wasn't that simple.

It goes as such:

Auston sneaks out before Mitch is awake, gets coffee, and slinks back. He's vaguely disappointed that Mitch is awake, but he can't help how his eyes follow the line of the sheets and how they pool when he sits up. It's a soft moment, feeling sealed off from the outside world even though he can hear the cleaners outside, and a couple who may be arguing or may be fucking in the room above them. It's 50/50 on that one.

Mitch catches his arm when he walks around the bed to give him his drink, wrapping his arms around his waist, blinking sleepily.

"Thank you." He mumbles, face pressed into Auston's stomach, and Auston just. Freezes. Looks at him. He looks content, but also like it's only temporary.

He thinks of the argument not an argument they had last month. Of Patty thinking they were head over heels for each other. Of how he craves Mitch looking happy to the extent that he'll leave the hotel in the morning. The morning.

Right as he thinks that, Mitch pulls away like his touch burns. He's not looking at him, but out the corner of his eye he catches Mitch looking - fucking heartbroken - just for a second, pulling his hands back and tucking them under his armpits, hunching into himself.

He covers it up with a rueful smile real quick. Oh, Auston thinks. He's so blindsided he doesn't catch the first half of what Mitch says.

"-I'm trying, it'll just take a while to get right. I'm sorry. It's harder than I thought." Mitch finishes. Auston thinks no. Don't you dare keep this up.

And on a drab, cold, unremarkable spring day in a bland, unremarkable hotel room one January morning, everything clicks into place.

"Oh" is all he can think, and he's disappointed in himself for how that is his reaction to realising he wants that casual affection always. He wants Mitch happy always.

He wants to hold him close, kiss him, be kissed by him, watch shitty TV and spoon with him, take him to bed, jesus-

He wants all of it, always. He said as much, but this just compounds it into something so big he can almost touch it physically. He wants Mitch to be happy always. Some ride or die soulmate shit, if he had to label it. "Ride or die soulmate shit" would make a terrible valentines day card, he thinks, borderline hysterical.

He takes a deep breath, but it doesn't work, chest constricting painfully.

"I just need - I forgot my card -" He says, and Mitch buys his panic at that, probably only because he's not looking at him, trying to work the TV.

Auston dashes out into the corridor and leans against the wall. He feels - weird. Heavy and detached from everything but also very invested in Mitch being happy and -

Ah. It's not panic. It's guilt, mixed with realising he's made a huge mistake. He feels the anxiety build in him like nausea and he's only jerked out of it when the cleaner frowns at him as she vacuums around him. He tries to move, and only ends up stepping on the wiring. The momentary shame works wonders for the anxiety, or at least stuffs it down until he can formulate a plan. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times and gives it 5 minutes, psyching himself up to go back in, taking his card out so he at least looks believable.

(Also he's pretty certain the cleaning lady is bitching to her colleague about him in another language, and he'd rather not overhear that.)

Here goes nothing.

-

Mitch is eating candy for breakfast when he gets back.

"You know there's actual breakfast downstairs, right? Healthy enough it'strainer approved. Some of it, anyway."

"I didn't wanna go without you." Mitch says, and it's objectively disgusting to see the three gummy bears he's chewing all at once, but here he is, endeared.

He thinks of the argument and how every time Mitch had spoken ill of himself, all he could think was "no" and "if anyone but you spoke about you like that I'd literally fight them", but he'd been struck dumb.

He can see how that was read as agreement.

He thinks of Mitch's voice wobbling when Auston voiced no objection to him saying that all his affection was unwanted, and wants to grab Mitch and shake him. I want you. I want you as you are, as you were, whatever the fuck. Don't go away.

Fuck.

Fuck, he's. In love, or some other such bullshit. He's a dumbass.

He climbs back into bed and sprawls out, purposely putting himself in Mitch's space, purposely making it so that he has to cuddle up, watch the TV, doze, all the stuff they normally do. They have to wait for the breakfast rush to pass anyhow.

But that's not what happens.

Mitch draws into himself.

When Auston shuffles closer still, Mitch unplugs his phone and gets up, climbing back into his own bed.

"Sorry," he mumbles, looking down. There's that pinched look again, the ashamed one. "I - you can just say, if you need space y'know? It's okay, I know now."

When he looks up, he's smiling, giving a half shrug. It's fine bro, don't worry about me.

"Mitch, what?"

"I just said it's okay, right? I know I'm being slow about this. I guess I just hoped -"

Auston looks at him, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Mitch deflates.

"Nothing. Don't worry about me, yeah?"

"I-" say something, Auston thinks to himself. He wants to grab himself by the shoulders and shake until he snaps out of it.

He can't word anything right, can a barely think, so he goes with changing the subject.

"Breakfast? They have a waffle machine."

Mitch stares down, eyes fixed on the hotel carpet, and Auston shouldn't be looking so intently, because it's making his guilt and panic worse. He sees with his very own eyes, Mitch very purposely put on a neutral, happy-ish looking expression, and he feels winded.

"Didn't you say it'd be busy, and also what happened to trainer approved?" Mitch asks, flopping back amongst the pile of pillows he's made.

Auston thanks god that his stomach growls audibly at that moment, because his head is still scrambling to string a sentence together.

He gestures at himself.

"Yeah, but...waffle machine."

(In all fairness, the mention of junk food is enough of a motivator that he doesn't even notice Auston's nervous tic of tugging at his own hair, so it's a win for now.)

-

They eat. Mitch has 2 waffles, a yoghurt, shitty kids cereal, and numerous coffees.

"You sleep okay?" Auston asks. It feels weirdly intimate, watching Mitch add cream and sugar to his liking, how he wraps both his hands around the mug and doesn't sit up straight, slumping and snuggling into his hoodie. They're sat by the window, shades casting lines of shadows over his forearms, and Auston is hit by want to trace the lines of his tattoos with his lips.

Shit. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's fucked up so bad.

He wonders how long this has been going on and he hasn't noticed. Not out of stuffing it down out of fear or whatever, but just taking casual affection for granted, and assuming any beyond platonic wants were just him getting his wires crossed.

What he eventually works out is that it's longer than he can remember.

Mitch's mouth twists.

"Not really. It's fine though. Happens sometimes."

"You literally sleep like the dead normally. Patty considered carrying you out of the car one time." He says, instead of "would you sleep better if I held you?" or "every bit of affection I've given you I've wanted to be more but I didn't realise and I'm scared. Not becaude I'm ashamed of wanting you, not because I'm disgusted. I'm so scared I can't undo this."

"It's fine." Mitch says, smiling. Fake smiling.

"Okay." Auston replies, and then they go on to bitch about their roadie. Normal. He's gonna pull this off, but not until they're back somewhere private.

-

Mitch gets changed in the bathroom now, and when they eat he doesn't press their ankles together under the table.

-

Auston figures he's gonna wait until they're home. At least that way, if it blows up in his face, it won't mean there's a bunch of awkward room sharing.

The thing is though, it means that he has to witness all the little ways in which Mitch is withdrawing. It makes his chest cramp. He doesn't want to notice how Mitch constantly looks like he's second guessing himself. The bags under his eyes. How he gets back to the room one night when Mitch begs off going out and finds him talking to his mom, voice suspiciously rough.

They're on a streak, their playing is by all account phenomenal. Mitch shouldn't look exhausted and sad. It's like being in some strange mirror universe. It feels wrong.

Chapter Text

Mitch being quote unquote weird goes on for 8 days until Auston snaps, or sort of snaps.

He obviously can't stand it anymore, can't count the ways in which Mitch is being strange, shoulders pulled in when they sit by each other, smile brittle, invites to chill at his thin on the ground

He's trying so hard, even with his appetite down, with his exhaustion. He's trying. He's really, really trying but Auston is tensing up more and more around him.

He invites Mitch to dinner one night, and Mitch freezes.

"Auston, it's okay." He says, and his movements are so purposely relaxed, so contrived, even to himself. "You don't have to keep doing this. You've nothing to feel guilty for. You don't actually have to spend time with me, you know?"

"I - what the fuck. No." Auston replies eloquently.

Mitch averts his eyes, because he can feel the mask slipping.

"It's okay." Mitch says again.

He's scared.

It's not going to be a nice shared meal. It's going to be Auston making it official, calling it quits. Mitch had been expecting it, but. It's too soon. He always thought there'd be more time.

Auston tries to put his hand on Mitch's arm, but he shoulders his bag too quick for him and goes back to his stall to wait for him, because they still have their arrangement to taking each other to and from practice, weirdly. He should have got rid of it straight away, looking back, but no.

He's still clinging even now. It's no wonder this is happening.

("I ask so much of you, what the fuck do you get in return?")

-

Mitch manages to keep up the pretence of being cool with everything. It works until he arrives and sees Auston has put the friendship bracelet back on.

It feels like mockery, like some form of vengeance. Giving him a taste of what he wants and then taking it away. Really showing him in the most concrete of terms how wrong it'd feel for them to be together like this.

He wants to cry.

"Why the fuck are you still wearing that?" He says, blunt. If he just gets this over with, fronts, it'll be easier.

"We're still friends aren't we?" Auston says, smiling, apparently not picking up on Mitch feeling so torn to pieces. He doesn't know if this is a trap or just making up.

He soon finds out.

He's laid the table for two. There's a couple of candles burning on it. A fucking flower in the vase Auston's mama gave him as a house warming gift. Mitch hates that he knows that detail. That Auston had told him when they were jetlagged and unable to sleep; he didn't know what to do with a heart shaped vase of all things, because he never even had fresh flowers.

This is a big joke about to be played on him, and it hurts like nothing has ever hurt him.

But he can't even stop it. There's some bit of him saying that, at the end of the day, he brought this on himself. Maybe if he can get through this without sobbing, it'll make it easier on him. Confirming that if they were together, it'd feel so weird and wrong.

Even if Auston actually loved him, it'd feel like playacting. Even if they were together, Mitch thinks, it'd only be filling the time. It'd just be until Auston found someone to really settle down with. You don't set up a home with someone you find so stifling or uncomfortable to be around.

He sits down at the table, and there's no way to describe it really. It's heartbreaking all over again. He can't even look Auston in the eye when he puts a plate in front of him, steak, roast vegetables, some herby potato slices, crisped up from the oven.

Not when they eat, or when they talk, or when he clears the plates afterwards, or when Auston says he's boxed him up some leftovers. He's lucky the topics are all light, easy to keep the conversation going on autopilot. Then again, it's always been easy for them in that regard. They've always just gotten each other. He's not a clue as to what this is. It feels genuine and like being put in his place.

After dinner, they watch a movie. Mitch makes sure he's respectful, sits at the opposite end of the couch to Auston. It's good practice for how things have to be now. It's good, he tells himself as he takes in how soft Auston looks in an old hoodie and sweats too short on his ankle. It's good to not touch he thinks, when he spots the dreaded bracelet poke out from his sleeve. It's good to get the fuck used to not cuddling up, like that was ever more than him tugging on Auston's sleeve like a needy child until he relented. Hold me, please?

He can't understand it, and he's so fucking terrified. If Auston notices, he doesn't say anything. When the movie ends, he couldn't begin to anyone what it was about, some thriller about a gang, maybe. He begs off Auston's offer of a round of call of duty after.

"Real tired, sorry." He says, and at least that's true. He's been sleeping terribly.

Auston makes to get up.

"I'll see myself out, don't worry."

He stands there for an awkward couple of seconds before he twigs. In the back of his mind, he'd been waiting for Auston to hug him goodbye like he used to.

He needs to get out of here fast. He can suddenly feel the cracks in the facade he's putting up get worse. He's not even sure why that particular bit of info if threatening to tip him over the edge, but it really fucking is.

"Uh, goodnight." He says, smiling, just like normal. Auston looks weirdly hesitant, but he sits back down eventually, stretching out into the space Mitch vacated, getting comfy.

If that isn't a metaphor for his life, he doesn't know what is.

He shuts the door quietly behind him and makes it to the car until his eyes swim. What the fuck just happened? Why does it still fucking hurt? He wants to shake himself. Stop doing this, stop imagining, stop being so -

He presses his face into his hands and pushes his fingers into his eye sockets until colours bloom on the back of his eyelids. Deep breaths. Drive home. Carry on as normal.

Mitch almost manages it until a tap on the window makes him leap out of his skin. No, no, no, no, why Auston here, why is -

The fucking leftovers. He's holding the box of them, but now he looks horrified, eyes scoping out Mitch's hands clenched tightly in his hoodie and his mottled cheeks.

He winds the window down and takes the box.

"Thanks man.' He says, but even as he's giving Auston an out, it doesn't work.

'I - Mitch, you're-" Auston begins, so gently it doubles back on itself to stinging. "Can you come back inside, just for a little, please?"

"I can't, Auston,;we've done all this, please. Let me go. I need to sleep and pack for tomorrow and - we've got another roadie, you know how terrible I am at packing, and I'll do whatever this is tomorrow okay? We can talk then."

Auston looks conflicted and hurt. Not the flash of hurt like last time, but genuine. Undisguised. Lingering.

"We will. I'm holding you to it. As soon as we check in. I don't care about anything else, we have to, okay?"

Mitch wishes he could object, but Auston is right even when he reaches in to drop the tupperware on his lap and squeezes his arm as he does.

"Okay." Mitch says. "Okay, promise."

-

Mitch and Auston's first kiss happens in an anonymous, basic hotel room. They flipped a coin for who got the bigger one on the bus, and after a round of rock, paper, scissors, Freddie won. Not that it matters.

Auston doesn't start proceedings gently. Doesn't have a lead up. Doesn't really have much of a plan at all, if he were to guess.

Mitch puts his suitcase on the his side of the room and stretches, relishing the way his shoulders crack. Auston looks at him, eyes lingering on his wrist.

"You asked me what the fuck I get in return. For everything. For you being you."

Mitch freezes.

"I - jesus, you can't just say that."

"You're the one that said it the first time. So ask me."

Mitch feels pole axed, breath leaving him.

"Auston, please don't be cruel to me." He can hear how his voice sounds, rough and wobbling.

Auston steps closer. The worst thing is that he sounds so genuine, like it's a question he wants to answer, if only someone enabled him with eight words.

He wraps his hand around Mitch's forearm, and he's...shaking? If he didn't know what was going on yesterday, this is worse. He takes a wet, trembling breath. Then another.

Auston brings his other hand to rest against the back of Mitch's neck, a gesture he's done a thousand times before, pulling Mitch in during cellies. With the few centimetres of glove padding removes it may as well have been a slap, for all that it shocks him.

Mitch sniffles, not quite crying, but it's a possibility. He nods to himself and finally looks Auston in the eye. It feels like an age since he did that.

"What the fuck do you get in return?"

Auston answers without hesitation, like he can't hold it in.

"You. I- I didn't know, all this time, and I just stayed up all night thinking after you left, but it was so hard. And - I couldn't say anything. I wasn't doing it to be a coward -"

"If this is a fucking joke, I'll never speak to you off the ice again, I swear -"

Mitch feels the tears, predictably, and Auston smudges them away with his thumb. It knocks the breath from him. Auston keeps doing that.

"I -get you. I couldn't make the pieces fit because I was just - it didn't make sense. You, loving me. I don't even mean that in an insecure way, I just thought you were like that for everyone, I didn't think it was special-"

Auston pauses, because his voice breaks on the last word, and he pulls Mitch to him, clumsy but simple.

"I was scared." He says, barely loud enough to hear.

Auston squeezes him to his chest, and it's a mirror image of last time, his arm squashed between them, over Auston's heart, but it beats steadily today. Mitch melts into it, because Auston is a terrible actor, and everything seems real, and it's like the colour is seeping back into the world.

He's there, and Mitch will be there too. He'll eventually gravitate towards him, or vice versa. They found each other through multiple tricks of fate, and they'll keep finding each other for the rest of their lives.

Suddenly, Mitch can see why Auston was scared.

"I get you." He repeats, more sure of himself, rambling. "I love holding you and being close to you. I like when you tell me about your day, your family, even if we had the same day, or I've heard about the family thing before. I can tell you anything, remember all those dumb jetlag insomnia chats? I don't have that with other people. But I want it with you, over and over. I want you. I - I love you."

Mitch screws up the fabric of Auston's shirt, balling his hands in it, and buries his face in Auston's chest. He wants so badly to hope, thinks he is hoping, feels it pushing against his ribs and refusing to stop.

"Fucking hell." He says, with feeling. "Why are you asking me like I'm going to object or push you away, why are you - why -"

He wants this like he's wanted nothing else.

Auston cups his face in his big, stupid attractive hands, and Mitch doesn't even have chance to appreciate them, because there's barely a thought in his head, just hope and love and want, all mixed together, ineffable.

It's 2.15pm. They should be napping by now, and the weather is terrible. Auston's shirt is damp from the flakes of snow that melted into it. The hotel room looks the same as any other they've been in, but suddenly it feels like the most intimate place in the world. The light presses against Auston's cheekbone, the shape of his nose, how his eyes are half lidded.

It's 2.16pm, and Auston kisses him for the first time, and the weight of everything Mitch has carried for so long, the hope, the fear - turns to surety. It turns to love.

Chapter Text

Mitch is icing his knee in Patty's kitchen when it happens, and his first thought is literally "run away", at like wile. e coyote speeds from looney tunes. He even flinches like he's going to do it, and his bruised, swollen knee spasms in pain.

He hisses, and Patty goes full "concerned dad" as he nudges the ice bag aside to look.

"You sure you're okay? Don't wanna see the doctor again?"

Mitch shakes his head, sliding to sit on the floor, because keeping it bent was starting to hurt. He's fine, won't miss anything other than tomorrow's practice, but it still sucks. Deep bruises are the annoying kind of pain that's like how your arm feels after a vaccination. Achy and painful, but not enough that you don't feel guilty for missing work or an event or whatever.

"I'm fine." He says. Heartache aside, the emo teen bit of him goes, but he's not saying that  aloud and sounding like a shitty John Green character.

"Okay." Patty replies, then takes a deep breath, grabbing their drinks and lowering himself to sit on the floor with him.

Mitch has a dirty chai latte that Patty can actually make. Minus the coffee, Christina had craved them when she was pregnant, apparently.

This is cosy, but oddly serious. He's still trying to work out how when -

"I've been meaning to talk to you. About Auston. You and Auston. Together."

Mitch squeaks. It sounds like a hiccup and his mouth works uselessly for a second.

Ah.

"Um -"

"Don't worry!" Patty says quickly. "I'm really proud of you two, for getting it together."

"I - " Mitch mumbles, because he's speechless. When he tries to talk it's like his throat physically closes up.

Patty touches Mitch's (good) knee, comforting through and through.

"I have to admit, for a while I was waiting for Auston to accidentally break your heart, because I love him like a son - obviously - but he can be a touch -"

"Oblivious?" Mitch says, and wow. He gets his voice back and just - plays along. This isn't good. None of this is good.

"Yeah, exactly!" Patty laughs, then gets serious again. "But I'm glad he didn't. I didn't want to say anything, because sometimes interfering makes things worse, but now things are settled, I'm glad that I can."

Mitch clears his throat, suddenly choked up.

"Yeah?" He says.

"Yeah. I'm just - so unspeakably proud, of the courage this must have taken for you. I don't know when you started falling for him, because you're cuddly with everyone, but it was beautiful to watch. How you got closer and closer. How you look at each other. You both light up when you're together, even if it's just hanging out, and it's -" He pauses, choked up himself. "- really amazing to see, buddy."

Mitch scrubs at his eyes.

"Thanks, man." He mumbles. "How did you first twig?"

It'll be useful in knowing what behaviour to eliminate he thinks. What he has to cut out for good, for Auston's sake. Maybe, if he stops doing that and pulls away and makes an effort to actively pursue other men or women on nights out, Patty will assume they broke up, and Auston will never get wind of this whole mess where their dad is cheerleading their not relationship.

"Honestly? You looked how I felt when I was dating Christina. She was studying, real clever stuff I didn't even understand, and that was just the basics. She's so smart and warm and loving. And I was blown away by her. She wasn't into anything flashy, as long as it was us, she was happy. One of her favourite memories is when we sneaked onto some guy's private beach at night because and ran up and down it, in and out of the sea together. I remember looking at her, clothes wet from the ocean, both of us bedraggled, uncaring, and thinking that she really was the, uh. Half I didn't know I was missing."

He's sniffling, and Mitch is sniffling too.

"Wow." He says, thinking that he'd be like that with Auston if he was allowed. If Auston loved him too. Fuck, he needs to change the subject. "Wait, private beach?"

"Oh, yeah. There was the normal beach, and a fenced off bit complete with pier, and she dared me to hop over it."

"And you did?" Mitch laughs, despite everything.

Patty shakes his head.

"I was too scared, so she called me a coward and did it herself."

The irony of someone being too scared and the other person saying or doing the difficult thing first isn't lost on him. He wishes he was that brave.

He wishes things were different.

"Did you get caught?"

"Oh, for sure. The lights came on and a dude yelled at us, so we ran away."

"Whoa. Seasoned criminal, Christina Marleau."

Patty clips the back of his head.

"Don't say that about your other mother." He says, and then leans over and pulls Mitch in until his head is squashed to his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, okay?" He says, and that's the moment Brody walks in, half way through asking for a snack.

"Daddy, are you crying?" He asks, and Patty gets up and ruffles his hair.

"Maybe, buddy. But that's okay. Sometimes people cry."

Brody nods, clambering onto a stool, eyeing the jar of cookies and little meringues on the counter. He peers down at Mitch curiously.

"Is Mitch crying?"

"No." Mitch says, voice thick.

Brody looks unconvinced, and grabs a tissue from the counter, running around to the kitchen floor and very carefully dabbing Mitch's face with it.

"Are you sad?" He says, peering around him with all the little kid curiosity in the world.

"No, just uh - my knee." He lies.

Brody pats it very gently. At least someone is convinced.

'Will you play Mariokart with me?"

Mitch grins at him. It's as good a distraction as any, he figures.

"Only if I get to be yoshi." He says, and Brody looks offended.

"You're always yoshi." He grumbles.

When he reaches for another tissue, presumably to make doubly sure Mitch is okay, he knocks over a glass of water, and anything they were talking about is lost to mopping up the mess.

Mitch is thankful, but if he's honest, all this has done is bring another level of heartache entirely. He sighs, gets up, and grabs a towel to help.