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Cale’s hand slides over the slick meat of the chicken, and he decides for the tenth time that they’re just going to cook it first next time. Cooked chicken is a hell of a lot easier to cut up than raw chicken. He glances over to where Nate is slicing potatoes, his knife never sliding on the rough peel, and frowns.
“I feel like I drew the short stick,” he complains playfully, holding up his slimy fingers and wiggling them at Nate when he looks over.
Grinning, Nate shrugs. “You volunteered. I didn’t make you.”
“We’re definitely cooking the chicken first next time.”
Nate laughs. “We might not even like this recipe, so don’t get too caught up planning for next time.”
“Yeah, but—” The loud buzzing of a phone interrupts him, and he can see his vibrating on the counter, screen lit up with an incoming call. He looks down at his hands, then over at Nate.
Huffing, Nate sets his knife aside, snags the phone, and squints at the screen. “It’s your mom.”
“Can you answer?”
Shrugging agreeably, he thumbs across the screen and activates the speakerphone. “Hey, Laura!” he greets warmly, and something turns over in Cale’s stomach, heavy and significant.
There’s silence on the other end for a moment, long enough that Nate taps at the screen to check if the call had actually connected. When the normal call screen lights up, he gives Cale a confused look.
“This is Cale’s phone, right?” Laura finally asks, hesitant, and Nate’s eyebrows pull together.
“Yeah, sorry. He couldn’t answer, so I did.”
Another silence, shorter than the last, fills the air. “Okay. And who is this?”
“Nate,” he replies, though he sounds unsure. Frowning, he glances at Cale and mouths ‘Is she serious?' Cale shrugs.
“Nate,” Laura repeats. “Oh, Nate! Oh hello, how are you?”
“Good, we’re good. What about you?”
“Not too bad, already getting too much snow, but that’s alright.”
Nate laughs, and that thing in Cale’s stomach turns over again. “You guys should come down here,” he says. “Compared to Calgary, Denver’s practically tropical.”
Laura laughs, too. “Yes, we’ll do that. Probably not for the winter though, but we’ll be out there for the playoffs.”
“Good.”
A beat passes.
“Is Cale around?” she asks. “If not, I can call back later.”
“I’m here, Mom,” Cale tells her. “We’re making dinner right now though, so my hands are kind of gross from cutting up chicken.”
Laura hums. “What are you making?”
“Sweet potato quinoa salad. Nate found the recipe and wanted to try it.”
“Sounds delicious. You doing a dinner with the boys?”
Nate and Cale exchange perplexed looks. “No, it’s just me and Nate.”
There’s something niggling at the back of Cale’s mind, a half-formed thought that’s just out of reach. He wonders if he forgot something, something he needed to tell his mom or Nate, something he needed to do after practice but hadn’t. It’s frustrating, like a word that’s on the tip of his tongue but won’t come out.
“Well, that’s good. Do you have anything planned besides dinner?”
As soon as they’re finished with dinner, Cale plans to get Nate naked in bed as fast as possible. He already told the Calverts that he wouldn’t be back for the night, ostensibly crashing at Nate’s because they’d be drinking. (They had picked up a bottle of white wine on their way home from practice, so it’s not technically untrue.) He probably shouldn’t say any of that to his mom though.
“Movie,” Nate supplies. “We’re going to watch…uh…”
“Avengers,” Cale blurts, “we’re going to watch the new Avengers movie.”
“Didn’t you go see that over the summer?”
Cale winces. “Yes…but…um…”
“I haven’t seen it,” Nate says, even though Cale knows for a fact that he has. God, they’re bad at this. “I haven’t seen it yet, and Cale was nice enough to volunteer to watch it with me, so that’s what we’re going to do tonight. Watch a movie after dinner. Just watch a movie and chill. Uh,” he stutters, “watch a movie and hang out, I mean. Not chill, hang out.”
Holy fuck, they are terrible at this. Terrible.
“Well, that should be fun,” Laura observes after a long moment, and Cale would facepalm if his hands weren’t covered in raw chicken.
“Yeah,” Nate stammers, “definitely. What, uh, what are you and Gary doing?”
Cale likes that Nate already knows their names, likes that he can have a conversation with them, likes that he wants to have a conversation with them. It’s good; it’s great. It’ll make things even easier when they all meet in the spring, and—
Fuck.
Oh fuck.
Oh motherfucking fuck.
Cale’s breath whooshes out of him, and the knife falters in his hand, nearly nicking his finger before he regains control.
How is this possible? How did they overlook this? What is wrong with them?
“Shit,” Cale breathes, head snapping up from the cutting board to gape at Nate.
Laura is in the middle of a sentence about the neighbors’ cat, and Nate is listening intently, nodding along and making sympathetic noises at all the right spots, and holy motherfucking shit, how have they not told their parents yet? How could they forget to do that? Shit.
Frantic, Cale waves a hand at him. Unfortunately, it’s the one holding the chicken-covered knife, so the entire gesture comes off slightly menacing and highly concerning, if Nate’s wide eyes are anything to go by.
“Hey, Mom,” Cale calls, feeling like a bit of a dick when he cuts her off. “Could we call you back in like twenty minutes? We just got to a part of the recipe that’s kind of complicated, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
“Oh,” she says, “sure. No problem, kiddo. You can call back whenever you’re free.”
“Kay,” he squeaks.
“Love you. It was good talking to you, Nate.”
“You too, Laura.”
Brows pinched in concern, Nate disconnects the call. “This recipe isn’t complicated,” he says. “Like, it’s the opposite of complicated.”
“Nate,” Cale murmurs, setting the knife aside. “We haven’t told our parents. We haven’t told our parents! What are we doing? Oh my god.” He braces his hands on the counter and stares at the pile of cubed chicken. “Of course my mom sounded so weird when you answered the phone. You knew her name! You were just going to talk to her while I was cutting this up, and that seems totally normal, but it’s not. Holy shit, it’s not.” He sucks in a deep breath. “I mean, it is. It is for us, but it’s not for them. My parents don’t even know I’m into guys, and now I’m dating one of my teammates.”
Nate looks sheepish. “To be fair, it felt pretty normal talking to your mom, and she definitely warmed up to me after the weirdness at the beginning.”
“I’m not worried about her not liking you.” And he’s not. He’s really not. His parents will love Nate. He knows it; he literally knows it. But somehow he needs to tell them that he’s not only gay but dating one of his teammates, and he’s not only dating one of his teammates but they’re serious, like long-term, get married, have babies together serious. How is he supposed to explain that without them thinking he’s lost it?
“Then what are you worried about?” Nate asks, a thread of hesitance buried in his voice.
“How are we going to tell them?”
Nate shrugs. “I’m thinking something like, ‘Hey, Mom and Dad, just to let you know, I met your future son-in-law. He’s great, and you’ll probably love him more than me, so there’s that.’”
Cale huffs out a laugh and sags against the counter. Nate crosses the short distance between them, presses up against his back, and wraps his arms around Cale’s waist.
“We’ll tell them the truth just…modified,” he says, lips brushing Cale’s neck. “Like we did with Tyson. We’ll say things started over the summer for both of us, but since we were so far apart and still not really sure about what we wanted, neither of us tried to start anything. Then we got back to Denver and found out we were both into each other, so now we’re dating.”
Sighing, Cale tips his head against Nate’s shoulder. “You make it all sound so easy.”
Nate noses at the skin beneath his ear, warm breath sending shivers down Cale’s spine. “I mean, once we figured shit out, it was pretty damn easy.”
“Yeah,” Cale snorts, “once we figured shit out.”
“We’ll just leave that part out, eh?”
Cale’s lips quirk. “Probably a good idea.”
With a pleased hum, Nate trails kisses from his ear to the collar of his shirt, teeth sneaking out to nip at the skin. “Do you want to call my parents first?” he offers, and Cale really does love him.
“Yeah, dinner can wait.” He pushes away from the counter and slips out of Nate’s arms to go wash his hands of raw chicken and the sweat that had broken out when he’d realized their mistake.
He scrubs them thoroughly, rubs the suds between his fingers and under his nails, and slowly lets himself relax. This is okay. It hasn’t even been a week, so it’s not that crazy that they haven’t told their parents. Granted, a week ago Cale was a total wreck who believed that Nate would never want anything to do with him, and now they’re in a committed, ‘scary serious’ (according to Tyson) relationship. This is fine. His parents will love Nate, and Nate’s parents will love him. At least, Nate says they will; Cale only met them once, and it was kind of chaotic after the win, so he can’t be certain that they won’t hate him.
He snags a dish towel and dries his hands. “Okay,” he says, snatching his phone off the counter, “we should go sit on the couch. It’ll be more comfortable.”
Grinning, Nate tangles their fingers and tugs him into the living room where he arranges them to his liking, Cale on his back and Nate spread out over him, his phone lying on Cale’s chest. “You ready?” he asks, one finger hovering over the call icon.
Cale looks between the phone and Nate. If he said he wasn’t ready, he knows Nate would listen, would lock his phone and wait until Cale was. He’s not going to say anything; he’s ready. But it’s nice to know that Nate wouldn’t push it if Cale didn’t want to.
He wraps his leg over Nate’s and rests a hand in the dip of his back. “Definitely.”
A shrill ring fills the air, echoing through the quiet house, and Cale holds his breath.
If they don’t pick up, that’s fine. They can always call again later or tomorrow, but Cale is set on this now. He wants their parents to know, wants Nate to be a part of his family as much as he wants to be a part of his.
“Nate,” Kathy’s voice crackles over the line. Cale can practically hear her smile. “How’s everything going?”
“Good.” He glances up at Cale. “Great, really great.”
“Really great?” Kathy asks, intrigue tinging the words. “I know you had some good games this week—that goal on Wednesday was beautiful—but is that enough to get a really great? Or is there something more?”
“There’s something more.”
She makes an inquisitive noise.
“Is Dad there?” Nate asks, shifting to prop his head up. “I want to talk to both of you.”
“Yeah, he’s right here,” she replies. “Honey, could you turn that down? Or maybe even turn it off? Nate wants to talk to us.”
“Both of us?” Graham grunts. “He got some important news he needs to share or something?”
“I don’t know, but as soon as you turn that down, we can find out.”
Listening to them, Cale can’t help but grin, already looking forward to the day he meets them—actually meets them.
“So what is it, kid?” Graham asks when the background noise of a game disappears. “Good news, right?”
Nate looks at Cale, and his smile goes soft and private. “Definitely good news.”
“Well, don’t keep us waiting,” Kathy scolds. “You’ve got me on the edge of my seat.”
“I’m dating Cale,” Nate tells them, and that…was not at all how Cale expected this to go. No lead up, no explanation, no warning. Just straight to the chase. He thinks he should be surprised or shocked. He’s not.
“Cale?” Kathy repeats, stunned.
“Makar?” Graham asks.
Nate nods, even though they can’t see him. “Yeah, yes, yup. Cale Makar. We’re dating.”
“But you’ve always dated girls,” Graham says, sounding confused but not angry.
Cale will take it.
“I have,” Nate concedes, “but now I’m dating Cale.”
“Okay,” Kathy says. “Okay. This is…not the news I was expecting, but that’s alright. That’s perfectly fine.”
There’s the scratch of something coming into contact with the mic, muffling the sound. Cale thinks he can hear them talking, but he can’t make out anything distinct, just noises and the rise and fall of conversation.
Nate doesn’t looks worried, but he does look a bit…disappointed or underwhelmed maybe. Cale slips a hand beneath his shirt and massages at the skin, pressing in until Nate lets out a slow breath.
“They’re just surprised,” Cale reassures. “It’s a lot to throw at them at once.”
Nate nods morosely. “I know. I just—I guess, I hoped they’d be happy about it right off the bat. Like me, like us.”
Cale lets the pads of his fingers drag over Nate’s skin. “They’re not not happy. They just need a second to adjust. They didn’t have a whole summer and part of the season to get used to the idea of us dating.”
Nate lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug and ducks his head against Cale’s neck. “I know. I just forget how weird it is for everyone else. Like, in my head, my parents already know you and love you because we’ve been together for years, but then I remember that that’s not actually true, so for everyone else, what we’re doing seems crazy and insane.”
Cale grins. “It is kind of crazy, but good crazy.”
“Yeah, I—”
“Nate?” Kathy’s voice comes back through the speaker, and they both jump in shock.
Nate scrambles to catch the phone before it slides to the floor, and he holds it between them. “Yeah?”
“Is someone with you? Is Cale with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Are we on speaker?”
“Yeah.”
She makes an odd noise that Cale can’t parse. “Oh, uh, hi Cale.”
“Hi Cale,” Graham chimes in.
This is going to be okay. This is going to be great. “Hi Kathy,” Cale responds. “Hi Graham.”
“That was a hell of a block you had last night,” Graham says. “Hope your gear took most of the blow.”
Relief washes through Cale. “Yeah, it did. I’ve got a decent bruise, but it could be way worse.”
“It looks awful though,” Nate adds excitedly. “It’s red and blue and purple. There’s even some green and yellow around the edges.”
Graham harrumphs. “You should send a picture.”
“Graham,” Kathy chides, “we don’t need a picture. We don’t need to see that.”
But Nate is already sliding down Cale’s body and wrapping a hand around his ankle. Carefully, he rolls up Cale’s jeans until the mottled bruise is revealed in all its glory, and he grabs his phone and snaps a couple pictures, one hand wrapped around Cale’s calf to angle it better for maximum effect.
“Just sent it,” he grins, settling back over Cale. “I definitely should’ve taken a picture last night when it was kind of swollen though. Then you could see the difference.”
Graham whistles lowly on the other end. “That’s a nasty one. I’m actually impressed it’s just a bruise. I feel like that could’ve been way worse, especially after the damn broadcasters made us watch the replay ten times before getting back to play.”
Cale chuckles. “Yeah, I definitely got lucky with the way it hit me.”
“Well, we’re glad you’re okay,” Kathy says. “We would’ve been glad no matter what, but we’re especially glad considering you and Nate are apparently dating.” There’s a mildly chastising tone to her voice, not like she’s upset that they’re dating but upset that they haven’t told them. “How long have you two been together?”
Cale flits his eyes over to Nate’s and lifts his eyebrows.
“Officially, about a week,” Nate replies.
“Officially?”
“Yeah, things kind of started over the summer for both us, but since we were a couple thousand kilometers apart, neither of us wanted to risk making a move or trying to start anything. Then, we had training camp and preseason and the season started, and we just didn’t really have any time to do anything. But now we have, and we’re dating.”
“And is it serious?”
“Graham,” Kathy gasps, “it’s been a week.”
“And?”
“They don’t need that kind of pressure. It’s a new relationship; give them some time to settle into it.”
“Mom, it’s fine. There’s no pressure. Anyways,” Nate pauses, and Cale can feel his entire chest move as he swallows, “it is serious. Really serious.”
“But it’s only been a week,” Kathy protests, and Nate blows out a slow breath.
“It’s only been a week officially,” he reminds them. “But this has kind of been going on since May, so it hasn’t really been quick.”
Graham hums. “Is this why you stayed over so much this summer? When you would get all sad and mopey but not want to talk about it.”
“Dad!” Nate cries, a flush creeping up his neck.
Cale arches a brow. “Sad and mopey?” he repeats quietly.
Nate shrugs, not quite looking at Cale. “I told you I didn’t like waking up at the house alone,” he mumbles. “It was easier at my parents’.”
Frowning, Cale tightens his arm around Nate’s waist and pulls him closer. Though they’re already so close it’s a difference of millimeters, he still feels better for doing it. “It’s not like that here, is it? You said you were okay with me staying at Matt’s for the year.” His frown deepens. “You didn’t just say that because you thought I wanted to hear it, did you?”
“No,” Nate barks. “No,” he repeats, softer. “Staying at Matt’s is good. He’s got a lot of experience in the league; there’s a lot he can teach you. Also, I’m pretty sure his kids would riot if you tried to move out.”
Cale studies him, eyes flitting from his tight shoulders to his downturned mouth to his anxious gaze. He pulls the phone out of Nate’s hand and sets it on the floor, nudging it under the couch enough that he doesn’t think Kathy and Graham’ll hear too much. Then, he curls his hand around Nate’s jaw. “Are you okay with this? I know you said you were when we talked about it, but are you still okay with it?”
Nate sighs. “Yeah, I am,” he says quietly, “and I’m not just saying that. Matt’s a good mentor for you. He’s seen a lot; he’s done a lot. And, you know, he’s a mature adult with a wife and kids, so there’s a lot you can learn from him there, too. And I know how much you like hanging out with the kids.” He turns to press a kiss to Cale’s palm. “That’s where you need to be right now, and in the grand scheme of things, one year really isn’t that much.”
With a fond smile, Cale pulls him in for a real kiss, lips soft as they press together in a slow, comfortable slide.
“Boys!” a tinny voice shouts, and Nate ducks down to pull the phone back up.
“Sorry, Mom. Sorry. That was—we just needed a minute. Sorry!”
“So you’re real serious,” Graham observes. “Move-in together serious.”
“We’re not going to,” Nate assures them. “Not until next season at least.”
“It’s been a week,” Kathy says, voice small. She doesn’t sound upset, just shocked, surprised, maybe amazed.
“Officially,” Nate reminds her.
“Right, officially.”
“And what are you planning on doing about the media?” Graham asks.
“Nothing for now,” Nate replies. “We kind of want to keep this private. I mean, besides you guys, the only people who know are Tyson and Gabe, and we’re calling Cale’s parents after this to let them know. But other than that, there’s no one we feel really needs to know yet.”
Kathy and Graham both make considering noises.
“And if it somehow gets out?” Kathy asks, concerned.
Nate shrugs. “Then, we’ll do a press conference, answer the dumb questions we’ll probably be asked, and keep winning to shut up anyone who might have a problem with it.” He speaks flippantly, like it wouldn’t be a big deal if people found out, like he wouldn’t care if they did. It makes a warmth bloom in Cale’s chest.
“Well, alright then. Guess that settles that.”
A comfortable silence falls, and Cale doesn’t really understand how it was that easy, but it was. Nate’s parents know; they’re okay with it.
“We should probably let you go,” Graham says. “Let you call the Makars.”
“Yes, say hi to Laura and Gary for us!”
Cale frowns quizzically. “You know my parents?”
“We sat next to each other at a couple of playoff games,” Kathy explains. “They’re very sweet. And it was so much fun to be right there when you scored, especially—oh!” she gasps. “Oh, that’s precious. I hadn’t even thought of that.”
“Thought of what?” Nate asks.
“You assisted on his goal,” Kathy cries. “You assisted on his first NHL goal. That’s adorable!”
Nate groans, head thunking against Cale’s chest. “Oh my god, Mom. Please, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what? I’m not doing anything. I just think it’s cute that you assisted on his first goal, and now you’re dating, and I’m sure there will be many, many more assists and goals to come. It’s adorable.”
Nate grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and Cale jostles him with his elbow.
“Thanks, Kathy,” he says. “I’m not sure I’ve heard professional hockey described as adorable, but we’ll take it.”
“You know what would be real adorable?” Graham asks gruffly. “Winning the Cup together. I don’t think hockey can get much more adorable than that.”
They all laugh, and Cale loves how comfortable it feels, how normal.
“We’re working on it,” Nate tells them. “This could be our year.”
“Damn right it could,” Graham declares.
“We’ll talk to you boys later, okay?” Kathy adds. “Don’t forget to tell them hi for us.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Will do.”
“Bye,” Kathy calls. “We love you!”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
The call disconnects, and Nate settles heavily over Cale, blanketing him until he’s just the right side of squished. Everything is warm and cozy and Nate, which mean it’s all pretty damn good in Cale’s opinion.
“I told you they would like you,” Nate mumbles against his throat, and Cale shivers.
“You did, and I told you they just needed a second to adjust.”
Nate sits up enough to look Cale in the eye, gaze serious. “You believe me, right?” he asks. “When I say I’m okay with you staying at Matt’s. You know I wouldn’t say that just because.”
Cale lifts a hand and cards it through Nate’s hair, scratching over his scalp. “I do.” He curls his fingers around the back of Nate’s neck and squeezes. “Sometimes, I wish you weren’t though.”
Nate’s brow dips low. “You wish I wasn’t okay with it?”
“Yeah,” Cale admits, a slow flush creeping up his cheeks. “You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to go back to the Calvert’s. Like, I wish you weren’t okay with it, so then I…I don’t know, so I wouldn’t have to feel as bad about not wanting to be there.”
Nate’s lips twist concernedly. “Cale.”
“That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I don’t want to be over there. It’s good, and they’re a lot of fun, and I know it’s the right thing for me to stay. But sometimes I wish I could be here instead. I mean, I kind of always wish I could be here.”
Nate makes a low, unhappy sound.
“I know I shouldn’t say that. That’s not fair to Matt and Courtney, who’ve been nothing but great, and it’s not fair to you either because I told you I wanted to stay there. And I do…but sometimes I don’t. Like, I was looking forward to tonight all week because I’ll get to stay here and go to sleep with you and wake up with you and that’s so much better than waking up alone in my room over there.”
Frowning, Nate tangles their legs together and slips a hand under Cale’s shirt, spreading it over his side. “You know you’re always welcome here, right? Actually, that’s not—I don’t think—this is your house. It’s not that you’re welcome here; you deserve to be here. If you want, you have every right to be here. You should be here.”
Cale’s chest goes tight at the words and the fierce look on Nate’s face, and he swallows thickly. “I know.”
Nate presses his hand into Cale’s skin, steady and grounding. “If you want to be here, I want you here. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Good,” Nate says. “I know you’re going to stay at Matt’s, and I know that’s the right place for you right now. But if you ever want to come over, you can. I don’t care if we’re fresh off a long road trip and exhausted or if it’s three in the morning or three in the afternoon. It doesn’t matter. You have a key; you can come over whenever. Even if I’m not here, you can come. I’ll always want you here.”
Cale’s lips quirk in a bittersweet smile, and he tugs Nate forward, wrapping around him in a tight embrace. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.”
They stay for several long minutes. Not speaking, just being.
“This is crazy, right?” Cale finally whispers, breathing the words into Nate’s hair. “Like, this is all just a little bit crazy. The dreams and the future and us. It’s crazy, right?”
Nate huffs, back moving up and down in a quick burst. “Yeah,” he replies quietly. “This is really crazy. This is insane. Like at the end of last season, I was just excited to have you as a teammate, excited to run transitions with you and convert on the power play with you. I was pumped about hockey and winning and, you know, maybe getting the Stanley Cup in the next couple seasons.
“Now—” He breaks off, voice thick. “Now I’m excited about spending nights in with you and sleeping with you—and not even just sex. Like, I’m excited to literally sleep next to you and wake up with you in the morning because if there was anything I hated about the dreams it was waking up alone afterwards.” Cale tightens his grip and buries his face in Nate’s hair, taking an unsteady breath. “And I’m still excited about winning, but I’m even more excited about winning with you.
“It’s crazy. I shouldn’t feel that way. Not this quickly, not this much. But anytime I think about dialing things down, I hate it. I feel like I already wasted months by not texting you over the summer or not saying something to you as soon as we both got back to Denver, so I don’t want to waste any more time being stupid. Yeah, it’s crazy, and it’s a lot. Yeah, everyone we tell is probably going to think we’re going way too fast, but I don’t want to slow down. Even though it’s fast, even though it’s crazy, I want this. I want this today and tomorrow and ten years from now. I want the Cups we won, and I want Abby and Noah. It’s crazy, I know it, but I still want it. Want it all with you.”
Tears prickle in Cale’s eyes, and his chest feels tight, but fuck if that wasn’t everything he needed to hear, everything he’s been feeling since he showed up at Nate’s door and realized he could have it all.
“Me too. Nate, me too.”
Nate lets out a heavy breath and sinks further into Cale’s embrace, melting against him. “Good,” he sighs.
They don’t move for a long time, lying tangled up on the couch as they take slow breaths. Cale thinks he could fall asleep like this, pinned under Nate’s warm weight and surrounded by the smell and feel of him.
“We should probably call your parents,” Nate murmurs after some indistinct amount of time. “If we don’t now, I’m definitely going to fall asleep.”
Cale hums lazily. “Probably.”
Chuckling, Nate sits up, grabs Cale’s hand, and pulls him into a sitting position. “Come on,” he drawls. “I need to meet my future in-laws.”
Cale laughs, sleepy and content, and pushes at Nate’s shoulders until he leans against the arm of the couch. Then, he crawls forward and settles between Nate’s legs, dragging his arm around his waist and reclining against his chest. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, pulls up his mom’s contact info, and hits the call button.
It rings once, twice.
“Hey, honey,” Laura greets warmly.
“Hey, Mom. Sorry about hanging up earlier.”
“That’s alright. Did you guys finish dinner?”
“No, not yet. We wanted to call you back first.”
There’s silence on the other end for a moment, and Cale can imagine the confused look on her face as she runs the words back and wonders why he just said we.
“Is Dad there?” he asks.
“Yes. Yeah, he’s here. Gary,” she calls, “Cale’s on the phone.”
There’s a muffled response.
“I don’t know,” she replies. “He just asked for you.”
“Well, don’t I feel special?” Gary jokes, and Cale lets out a weak laugh.
Nate threads their fingers together and tucks his chin over Cale’s shoulder, tilting his head to nose at the skin beneath Cale’s jaw.
“What’s up, bud?” Gary asks.
“Mom’s still there, right?”
“Yeah, she’s right here. We’ve got you on speaker.”
Cale nods and squeezes Nate’s hand. “Cool because I’ve got something I need to tell you guys.”
“We’re listening, C,” Laura says.
And well, it went perfectly fine when Nate just blurted the truth, threw it out into the open nonchalantly, so there’s no reason to go against a tried and true method.
“Nate and I are dating,” he says.
An endless beat passes.
“You and Nate are dating,” Laura repeats slowly.
“Nate? Like your teammate Nate? MacKinnon?” Gary asks, shocked.
“Yeah, Nate my teammate.”
“Since when?”
Cale shrugs. “Technically, it’s been a week.”
“But untechnically?” Laura asks.
“Untechnically, it kind of started over the summer for me—and I guess for him, too, it turns out. But with him all the way in Nova Scotia and me in Calgary, it didn’t seem like a good idea to start anything, especially since I didn’t even know if he liked guys. Then we got back here and things got busy, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him or anything. But I finally found some time last week, and when I came over to talk to him, he said he felt the same, so now we’re dating.”
“Okay,” Laura says. “So you’re dating Nate. That…well. I don’t think either of us saw this coming, but that’s alright.”
“Aren’t you at his house right now?” Gary asks. “Your mom said you two were making dinner.”
“Oh no,” Laura gasps. “I interrupted a date, didn’t I? You’re making dinner together and going to watch a movie. I’m so sorry.”
Cale winces at the mention of a movie and prays that she doesn’t think about that too much, about the obvious lack of preparation and the hurried explanation Nate had thrown together, sounding uncertain and awkward as hell.
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. We needed to talk to you anyways.”
“Is Nate there? You said we just now and earlier. Is he with you?”
Nate bends forward. “Hi Laura, hey Gary, how’s it going?”
There’s a small shout of surprise, and Nate grins.
“Hi Nate.”
“Hello again, Nate. We’re good. A little taken aback by the news, but it’s good.”
Nate’s grin widens. “I know the feeling. I was surprised when Cale wanted to date me, too.”
Cale scoffs and elbows him lightly in the ribs while Laura and Gary laugh.
“You seem like a nice young man,” Laura tells him. “I don’t see any reason why Cale wouldn’t want to date you.”
Nate ducks his head, and Cale can feel him smile against his neck, big and brilliant.
“Me neither,” Cale agrees, wrapping his fingers behind Nate’s neck. “He’s great.”
“Soft,” Nate mutters, and Cale turns to press a kiss to his temple.
“Have you talked to Taylor about this yet?” Gary asks.
Cale winces. That’s two more people they forgot to inform.
“No,” he mumbles. “But we’ll talk to him soon. We’re actually trying to keep it private for now, since everything’s still pretty new and we know the media would have a field day with this.” They both make sympathetic noises. “So the only ones who know are you two, Nate’s parents, and Tyson and Gabe. We’ll talk with Taylor and Nate’s sister, but that’s probably it for now.”
“That’s probably smart. You’ve already got a lot going on without a bunch of bum reporters hounding you about this.”
“But when you do decide to be open about it,” Laura chimes in, “you know you’ll have our full support, whatever people may say.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Yeah, thank you.”
“So does this mean we should expect to have two tour guides when we make it out to Denver for the playoffs?” Gary asks, sounding excited. It eases something in Cale’s chest.
Nate straightens. “Definitely, you guys should stay with u—should stay at the house,” he corrects, and Cale’s eyes go wide at the slipup. “You guys should stay here. I’ve got plenty of space, and my parents’ll be here, too, so you can hang out with them when we have practice.”
“They say hi by the way,” Cale tacks on, hoping to further distract them from Nate’s mistake.
“Kathy and Graham?” Laura asks, delighted. “Tell them hi for us, too!”
Cale shoots Nate a concerned look and is glad to see a similar expression on his face. At least he’s not the only one a little worried about how chummy their parents apparently are.
“That’d be so fun to stay with Nate,” Laura says to Gary. “We could run around Denver with Kathy and Graham when the boys have practice or need to get to a game early.”
Cale’s concern intensifies, and he doesn’t understand how he missed the best-friendship their parents share.
“Yeah,” Nate says hesitantly. “We could leave one of the cars for you, so you wouldn’t have to rent or be stuck at home.”
Laura…squeals, and Cale feels the first tendrils of fear creep up his spine. “That would be great!” she gushes. “I know it’s four months away, but I’m already excited. I should text Kathy. This is great!”
“They have each other’s numbers?” Nate mutters, incredulous, and Cale offers his hand a commiserating squeeze.
“Hey Mom,” Cale says, cutting off whatever energetic spiel she’d begun at the thought of texting Kathy. “We still haven’t finished dinner, so we’re going to go do that, okay?”
“Of course, right. You go finish dinner. I’ll text Kathy.”
Cale sighs. “Kay, you do that.”
“We’ll talk to you later,” Gary tells them. “Can’t wait to see you both in April!”
“Yes, and we’re happy for you,” Laura adds. “We probably should’ve mentioned that earlier. We’re so happy for you both!”
“Thanks, Mom. Talk to you later.”
“We love you!”
“Love you, too,” Cale replies, and a happy shiver runs through him when Nate echoes him.
The phone beeps, signaling that Laura has already hung up (probably to text Kathy), and Cale slumps back against Nate, tired but satisfied.
“They like me,” Nate says, wonder in his voice. “They totally like me.”
Cale tilts his head up enough to give him a disbelieving look. “I told you they would. You already knew they would.”
“Yeah,” Nate shrugs, “but it’s still nice to have the confirmation.” He tightens his arms and presses a kiss to Cale’s hair. “Though I’m kind of scared of our moms together now. I mean, my mom had mentioned meeting your parents last season, but she didn’t say anything about them having each other’s numbers or anything.”
Cale sighs. “Yeah, I’m a little freaked out.”
----
Four-ish Months Later
“I like the neighborhood,” Laura comments when they’re almost back to the house. She watches a group of kids ripping around on scooters, an older couple weeding their garden, and a young mother pushing a baby stroller as she jogs. “Very family friendly.”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” Cale agrees. “Far enough out that we don’t get all the traffic of downtown but close enough that the drive to the rink isn’t terrible.”
Laura hums in approval, and Cale takes the last turn before pulling up the driveway and into the garage.
“This is it,” he says, popping the trunk and opening his door.
They haul the suitcases out of the trunk, and Cale likes the optimism they had while packing, but it makes their bags heavy as hell.
“Got enough stuff?” he huffs.
“You’re going to make a deep run,” Gary asserts. “We wanted to be ready.”
With a roll of his eyes, Cale leads them to the door. “We have a washing machine. You’re welcome to use it.”
“Oh, do you?” Laura asks with a knowing look, and Cale flushes hotly.
His parents had expressed plenty of concern in the beginning, not about Nate but about how quickly they were moving, how serious they already were. After a couple of months, the concerns had become few and far between, and Cale finds himself almost missing them because the way they tease them now might just be worse.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “You can use it anytime.”
Laura bumps him with her hip. “Thanks, kiddo.”
“Is that finally them?” a voice calls out, and Kathy comes into view, grinning widely. “It is!”
She hurries forward to pull Laura into a hug, asking about their flight and the weather in Calgary and whether she’d brought that book she’d told her about last week. Gary and Graham exchange handshakes and warm greetings.
“Let me show you where your room is,” Kathy says. She grabs the handle of Laura’s bag, waving away her protests because she’s already carrying a bag and her purse, and heads off in the direction of the guest bedrooms. Graham and Gary trail behind, chatting about the season’s end and how many games it’ll take them to advance to the next round.
When they’re out of sight, Nate wraps his fingers around Cale’s wrist and drags him toward the kitchen, pulling him close and dropping his head onto his shoulder once they’re there. He lets out a low groan, and Cale loops an arm around his waist.
“What’s up?”
“I know we talked about you staying at Matt’s at least a couple times during playoffs, but I’m officially vetoing that idea,” Nate informs him, voice muffled against the fabric of Cale’s shirt.
Cale smiles, bemused. “Why? You’re not going to make that into a superstition, are you? Because I’m not down for that.”
Nate huffs. “No way, I’d sleep with you win or lose, but I actually mean that you can’t leave me here with all of them. I might go crazy or die.”
“That’s pretty dramatic.”
“No, it’s not,” Nate sputters. He pulls back and curls his hands around Cale’s hips, looking mildly frantic. “My mom spent the last half hour telling me how cute it would be if you won the Calder, too. That’d really make us the hockey power couple according to her. Also,” he shudders, “I’m like ninety percent sure they’re planning a vacation together this summer.”
“That could be fun.”
“Babe,” Nate groans, “I don’t even know if we’re invited. I think it’s a ‘couples retreat’ or something.”
“We’re a couple,” Cale points out.
“Fine, older couples.”
Cale snorts, lifts a hand to cradle Nate’s cheek, and pulls him in for a kiss, lips moving slow but purposefully. “It’ll be fine,” he murmurs lowly, nipping at Nate’s bottom lip.
“You’re still staying here.”
Shrugging, Cale slides his arms around Nate’s neck. “I think I can live with that. You’ll have to make it worth my while though.”
Nate grins, all teeth. “I think I can manage that.”
“Oh, you’ll have to send me that one!” Kathy suddenly exclaims, and Nate and Cale jump apart, putting a good four feet between them.
They swing their heads around to see their parents gathered near the kitchen’s entry, Laura holding her phone, and Cale can feel his cheeks light up a vivid, burning red.
“Mom!” Nate cries, looking pained.
Kathy shrugs. “It’s a good picture. You both look so cute.”
“We’re not cute.”
“You absolutely are.”
Nate pouts, full on curled lips and drooping shoulders. “Why are you even taking pictures?” he whines. “It’s not like you can do anything with them.”
“We can keep them for posterity,” Laura replies, and the fear Cale felt months ago is back but doubled, slithering through him and sounding alarm bells all over.
“Posterity?” Cale gapes. “You’re not showing that to our posterity.”
She gives him a dubious look. “Yes, we are. That way when you have grumpy teenagers and young adults who think you’re boring, old people, we can make sure they know there was a time when you were young and in love.”
Nate splutters. “They don’t need to see that. Anyways, it’s not like we won’t still be in love when we’re old, so they won’t need pictures for proof.”
Mouth falling open, Kathy places a hand over her heart and practically coos. “That is probably the sweetest thing I have ever heard you say, Nate.”
“Should’ve been recording,” Laura sighs forlornly.
Cale feels like he’s on fire, cheeks burning and gut churning in embarrassment. He’s not embarrassed about what Nate said—he plans to be in love with him until his last breath and beyond—but their parents don’t need to hear that. That’s just for them, for when they’re sweaty and sated in bed or cuddling on the couch after a shitty loss or talking about next year when Cale will move in and it can finally be their house.
“Don’t record that!” Nate blusters. “Nobody needs to see that.”
“But it’s adorable.”
“That doesn’t—”
“Who’s hungry?” Cale asks, interrupting whatever Nate was about to say, and Gary and Graham both nod emphatically, raising their hands to emphasize the point. “Great, we can set the table and start with the salad while the pork chops finish cooking.”
They make it through dinner mostly unscathed, and when they excuse themselves to go to bed, they only get a couple knowing looks and waggled brows. Cale chooses to ignore them, nudging Nate towards their room when he looks ready to protest. They brush their teeth, throw their clothes in the bin, and crawl into bed where Nate immediately tugs him closer and starts dropping kisses on his cheeks and neck.
“I swear, they’re going to have our wedding planned before this is all over,” he grumbles, teeth grazing over Cale’s collarbone.
“If they do it, we don’t have to,” Cale points out.
Nate pauses in thought, then nods. “Fair point.” He bites at Cale’s earlobe and sucks at the skin beneath. “How quiet do you think you can be?”
“What?” Cale pants, hips already hitching against Nate’s.
“How quiet can you be? I want to rim you, but I know you always get kind of loud when I do.”
Cale feels dizzy, body flushing in anticipation and excitement, and he groans softly. “I can be quiet, so quiet. I promise.”
Nate hums and leans up for a quick kiss before shimmying beneath the covers and settling between Cale’s legs. “Are you going to need your hands to keep quiet or can you hold your legs up for me?”
Thoughts already scattered and meaningless, Cale tries to piece together a coherent response. “I can hold them. Just go slow, eh? Nothing fast and nothing crazy. I don’t think I could stay quiet then.”
Grinning predatorily, Nate hooks his fingers in the waistband of Cale’s briefs and drags them down. “Tap out if you need to,” he drawls, and Cale bites down on a whimper.