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The meetings fucking suck. That doesn’t surprise Jared, not after Deslauriers’ reaction, but going in expecting bullshit doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.
There’s no more yelling, at least, though the head of PR and one of the lawyers both talk to him like he’s about five years old, all ‘we don’t think you know what you’re getting into’ and ‘have you thought about the implications of this?’. It’s like his parents trying to talk him out of his engagement all over again, but worse, because like, Jared knows his parents were doing it from a place of love and worry about him, even if it was misguided. These people don’t give a shit about him, just about a scandal.
He lets Greg do a lot of the talking for him. He normally wouldn’t — he’s more than capable of speaking for himself — but honestly he doesn’t trust himself not to lash out, act like the kid they’re treating him as. He speaks when spoken to. Sometimes not even then. Sits with his jaw set and listens to PR talk about how to handle it if it gets out, keep it from getting out, minimize it, or maybe even —
“Is it possible to hold off on the wedding?” he gets asked, and he wonders what the angle is. Hold off until they get a real plan? Hold off until they can trade him and he’s not their problem? Hold off and hope him and Bryce change their minds, or break up?
“No,” Jared says. “It’s not.”
Whatever Jared’s dealing with, he knows Bryce has it worse. Summers flies to Calgary to do damage control at Flames HQ because Bryce can’t exactly drop the whole playoffs thing, and unlike Jared, he isn’t some bottom six guy who’s just very inconveniently announced he’s marrying the enemy, he’s the star player who’s already got a pretty checkered past. Not that Jared’s like, checkered or whatever the hell, just that he’s sure the Flames see it as Bryce making more trouble for them.
Every time they talk Bryce keeps this gloss of no-stress, no-big-deal going, pushing hard enough on it that Jared almost buys it, but when Jared uses his spy in the Flames locker room, apparently he’s only sustaining it for as long as those calls last, and he’s visibly stressed, withdrawn in the room.
Jared directs his spy to provide moral support.
no shit of course I will, texts said spy. whatever he needs.
Chaz is a good guy, and the fact he’s there for Bryce is one of the only things that gives Jared any relief right now. Well, that and Greg at his side, because fuck knows he couldn’t handle this alone. Which Bryce is doing right now. Jared’s tempted to fly to L.A. the second he’s released from the shitty purgatory that is meetings with his front office. It’s probably a bad idea, though. If the Flames front office found out, well — who knows. Jared’s already fucking tired of this, and it’s barely begun.
Jared spends days in stupid meeting after stupid meeting, texting Chaz and Raf and Julius before, between, and after. They’re all surprised at how bad management’s taking it, which makes Jared feel a little less stupid for underestimating it himself. Texts Bryce too, of course, and fights the urge to vent to him or gloss over things at the end of the day. He goes for middle ground. He doesn’t lie to Bryce, pretend it’s any better than it is, but he saves his venting for Greg, who patiently listens to him like it’s his job — and Jared knows it isn’t, he’s going well and above — and his parents.
His mom also listens patiently, his dad, well — his dad’s fucking furious on his behalf, and Jared’s a little surprised by that. Like, he’s the one who was always warning Jared being out to anyone but family and close friends would bite him in the ass, career-wise, and he was right. You’d think there’d be a whole ‘I told you so’, not ‘I’m going to fucking destroy that motherfucker, how dare he talk to my son like that’.
dont let the haters get you down, Erin texts him not long after his dad blows a gasket, then, I think dads about to drive up to edm and murder ur gm
Cool by me, Jared texts back.
The meetings stagnate into what is basically ‘let’s sit across the table and repeat the same shit at Jared over and over while he scowls at his lap’ before he’s finally free to go, with an absolutely idiotic ‘don’t publicize this,’ from the head of PR. He’s been with Bryce since before he was even a prospect on the Oilers’ radar and they managed to keep it quiet just fine, he doesn’t know why they don’t think he’s capable of discretion. He’s very capable of discretion. So capable they didn’t have a damn clue Jared was with Bryce until he specifically told them.
When he goes home, he goes straight to his parents’. He doesn’t want to stay in their empty apartment, and he kind of needs to be babied a little right now. Not that either of his parents are the babying kind, but like, his mom gives him a super tight hug, and his dad makes dinner and pointedly comments about how good he thinks Bryce has been playing lately, how big an impact he thinks he’ll have in the playoffs, which is more than good enough.
The Flames series kick off that night and Erin watches for once, wearing one of Jared’s old Flames jerseys — she didn’t ask if she could borrow it, but he’s long since outgrown it, so whatever — and bugging him and dad by asking questions they know she knows the answer to. She has watched literally hundreds of Jared’s games over the years, she knows what a damn offside call is.
The Flames don’t win it, but it’s a tight, well fought visitor’s game, and they had a great home record that season, so Jared isn’t too demoralized by it. Games don’t matter, series do. Bryce seems similarly philosophical about it when he calls after — he’s frustrated they lost, of course, but he knows he knows the Flames had a good game. He did too, two points, albeit both assists, so the bullshit isn’t affecting his play, at least. Jared was worried about that. It’s a lot to deal with, and people can say all they want about compartmentalisation, mind being a blank slate once you’re on the ice, he knows Bryce is stressed, and tired, and he wouldn’t blame him if it hit his play.
They win the second game — even Erin joins the cheering when Casterley scores early in OT — and Jared heads home after, since the Flames are jumping right on a plane, all eager to sleep in their own beds for a couple nights before the next match-up. Jared doubts any of them are more eager than Bryce, though he’s got shit waiting for him here. Summers is still in town, and they’ve got a date with the Flames’ PR people tomorrow afternoon, while his teammates get to relax. Or, maybe not relax, probably stress about the upcoming games, but that’s a little different than the gauntlet of PR people. Jared knows they’re just doing their jobs, but fuck they’re obnoxious about it. And that’s with him; it’ll probably ten times worse with Bryce.
He falls asleep on the couch waiting up for Bryce, wakes up to Bryce gently shaking his shoulder and herding him to bed, Jared drowsily compliant as Bryce undresses him, then himself. He wants to ask how he is now that they’re both face to face, that he’ll be able to look him in the eye, because Bryce can’t deflect in the same way when Jared can see his face, but once he’s horizontal, Bryce tucked around him, sleep wins out.
Bryce is dead to the world when Jared wakes up, doesn’t stir at the alarm, or when Jared tentatively rubs his thumb over a cut on his cheek, right where his visor would hit. Probably a high stick, one that must have been behind the play, since Jared kind of notices when people clip Bryce’s face.
Bryce is still asleep when Jared’s finished making breakfast, and he looked tired, even sleeping, so Jared doesn’t wake him up, just puts his plate in the oven and goes over all the write-ups of the games last night. Media seems split on who they think will take the series, which is better than the majority consensus that the Kings had it when the series opened. It’s weird; time and time again a higher seeded team will go down without a fight, but whenever the postseason comes around, journalists seem to forget that playoffs are a crapshoot and just pick the team with the better regular season. Jared could do better than them at predicting shit.
It’s past noon when Jared caves and wakes Bryce up — he doesn’t want to, but he’s pretty sure Bryce would appreciate a shower and breakfast before the Flames PR is set on him. He brings coffee along with him to ease the process a little, and Bryce only groans and bats him away twice before he’s sitting up, hands curled protectively around his mug.
“Eeyore,” he says, frowning. “You never let me have the Eeyore mug.”
“It seems like it’s going to be an Eeyore kind of day for you,” Jared says.
“Yeah,” Bryce says. “Probably.”
“Do you want me to come?” Jared asks.
“I mean,” Bryce says. “I totally do, but it probably wouldn’t help things? And you’ve dealt with enough shitty meetings already.”
Jared’s not going to lie; he’s relieved. Like, he was offering in earnest, if Bryce said yes he’d totally go along, but he knows what he’d be in for there. It’d probably be even worse, since he’s not actually a Flame, just a headache they’re dealing with.
“Left you a plate in the oven,” Jared says. “All stuff in your nutrition plan, I checked.”
“Fuck I missed you,” Bryce says, easy, like it’s just a matter-of-fact statement. Which, maybe it is by now. That was just the reality of the season, Jared low-key missing Bryce at all times, even when he was talking to him, sometimes high-key missing Bryce. Something he doesn’t think he’s used to, not sure how to be. It makes coming home pretty fucking great, though.
Jared kind of trails Bryce around the apartment — shaves while Bryce showers, even though he could go another day or two without needing to, stupid patchy facial hair — sits across from Bryce at the table, sipping a Gatorade he doesn’t even want just so he’s not like, staring at Bryce eat for no reason. He steals a bite of toast he doesn’t want either, just to watch Bryce not protest because he’s too nice, kicking at Bryce under the table until Bryce kicks back.
“What’s up with you?” Bryce finally asks.
“What, I can’t kick my fiancé in the comfort of my own home?” Jared asks.
Bryce snorts.
“I dunno,” Jared says. “Everything outside is like, weird right now. And condescending. And rude. And you’re like — normal. And comfortable. So I’m kicking you.”
“That makes sense,” Bryce says, even though it absolutely does not, there is no sense to make of it, Jared is being weird and he knows it.
He lightly kicks Bryce again, and Bryce traps his foot between his ankles.
“I don’t want you to get yelled at for being with me,” Jared says.
“Yeah, me either,” Bryce says. “But price I pay, you know?”
“You shouldn’t have to pay a price,” Jared says. “It’s so fucking stupid. I hate — god, I hate this whole fucking thing, like what fucking right do they have to—”
“J,” Bryce says. “Stop, because I can’t be mad about this right now.”
“Why the hell not?” Jared says.
“Because if I’m mad about this I’m going to yell at everyone when I get in there, and it’s going to make shit worse,” Bryce says. “And they already hate me, so I kinda shouldn’t do that.”
“So you’re just, what, forcing yourself not to be mad?” Jared asks. “How’s that working out?”
“Like shit,” Bryce says. “But I just need to like, last a couple hours and then I can go punch the shit out of a punching bag or something.”
Bryce probably shouldn’t be tiring himself out when he’s got a game in two days, but Jared’s sure as fuck not going to be the one to say that. Plus Jared wants to punch the shit out of something, now that Bryce has mentioned it. They can do it together: couples bonding through punching the shit out of things instead of yelling at their respective teams.
“Can I join you?” Jared asks. “Because that sounds good right now.”
“It’s a date,” Bryce says. “If I let your foot go are you going to kick me again?”
“Almost definitely,” Jared says, but Bryce frees him anyway, and just huffs out a laugh when Jared is as good as his word.