Archive of Our Own

Brandon knows he shouldn’t be worried about this.

As things go when hockey players - and specifically Patrick Kane - are concerned, this doesn’t even ping on the radar of things Brandon should be worried about. That doesn’t mean he can stop thinking about it, though. He considers bringing it up with Jonny, but Jonny has an extensive history of not finding Kaner weird when he probably should, so that’s not a good idea.

All in all, Brandon has no idea what to do with the fact that Kaner really likes holding his hand.

---

“No seriously,” Brandon says, scowling. “Stop laughing.”

Inevitably, Shawzy doesn’t stop laughing. Nick, meanwhile, actually has the decency to look thoughtful. “How often does it happen?”

Brandon pauses. He’s not actually been counting, but now that he considers it, it’s not actually a often. There was the time in the bar. The night he and Kaner had opted to forgo the usual game night and head upstairs and Brandon had jumped when Kaner’s hand curled against his in the elevator. Hanging out with the guys and Kaner had held his hand when they were in the kitchen. He lists them off and watches the laugh fall off of Shawzy’s face.

“Are you actually being serious, dude?” Shawzy’s expression is a cross between someone who wants to burst into laughter and cry all at the same time. “This is the best thing I have ever heard.”

Brandon is more than used to Shawzy’s lack of any social decency at all, so ignores him. “What do you think?”

Nick frowns. “I think we’re the wrong people to ask.” It’s decidedly unhelpful, but when Brandon tells him so, Nick snorts. “No, I mean we’re literally the wrong people to ask.”

Shawzy realises what he’s saying about the same time Brandon does. “Oh shit, Jonny is going to kick your ass.”

---

There was a reason Brandon didn’t want to ask Jonny, so he ignores Nick’s suggestion and buries himself in hockey instead. Maybe if he ignores what’s going on, it will go away.

Unfortunately for Brandon, Kaner doesn’t seem to get the message.

They’re at practice running drills, and Kaner’s hanging around in Brandon’s periphery. He’s supposed to be doing something productive with his time - Q insists upon it - but as usual, Kaner is trying to get away with as much as he can before he’s called on it.

Jonny’s running through drills with Brandon, mostly because he’s the best person for the job, and Brandon gets a lot of shit for being Jonny’s pet project, but he’s learning shit that he wouldn’t elsewhere, so he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Kaner,” Jonny says, looking up from the paper he’s scribbling plays on. “Aren’t you supposed to be, you know, doing something?”

Kaner affects a look of innocence. Brandon smothers a grin, but Jonny looks less than impressed. “Like what, Jonny? Scoring goals all the time is boring.”

He doesn’t sound serious, but Jonny rises to the bait anyway. “Yes, Kaner, I can see how that would get tedious.”

Brandon might be weirded out by the hand-holding thing, but he still likes Kaner and thinks he’s a cool guy. Like most of the team, he also enjoys the relationship between Kaner and Jonny and how utterly ridiculous, weird and involved the two of them are.

“What the fuck is this?” Kaner asks, peering down at the pad in Jonny’s hands. “Are you drawing him plays, Jonny?”

Jonny doesn’t rise to the bait. “Whatever, you scribble shit on napkins all the time.”

“That was one time,” Kaner puts in. “I’m much better at doing it in my head.”

“That’s because your head is empty enough for the size of a clean rink, Kaner,” Jonny says, looking ridiculously proud of his comeback. Brandon’s embarrassed for him, but Kaner looks torn between horror and amusement. It’s almost disgusting how weird they are about each other, but that’s hockey and Brandon’s had his own fair share of weird relationships, so he’s not going to say anything.

He stops listening to the argument, but can’t help but notice that Kaner’s surged forward a little bit, shoulder to shoulder with him while he shoots his mouth off at Jonny.

Jonny doesn’t look irritated, he’s equal parts amused and exasperated, but Brandon’s not really paying attention to him. Kaner throws his hands up - Brandon kind of likes the way he talks with his hands a lot - and it’s only then that Brandon notices he’s not wearing gloves. For the most part, Kaner keeps to the uniform, but there have been times where he drops the gloves and stickhandles with bare hands. He claims it’s because he likes the feel of the stick against his skin, and he only ever does it when he’s got the space, but Brandon reacts in the same way every time; there’s something about Kaner’s hands, which isn’t a weird thing.

Well. When Brandon had admitted it to Jonny after a lot of drinks, he’d been met with understanding.

Kaner drops his hands to his sides. “Whatever, man, I’d say talk it out like normal people, but you don’t really do that.”

It’s an old dig, and not one that really counts anymore. Jonny grins, slapping his stick against Kaner’s stomach. “Fuck you.”

Moving his hands back out of harms way, Kaner’s fingers brush against Brandon’s gloved fist. He doesn’t startle or move away, but looks at Kaner in surprise.

There are dimples on Patrick’s face as he grins up at Jonny and fuck, Brandon really doesn’t want to consider that the reason he’s so caught up in the fact that Kaner’s holding his hand all the time is because he doesn’t actually mind.

---

They’re in a hotel in Detroit and Brandon’s joined the others in the game room. He’s got his feet kicked up on a stool across from the couch, and he’s focused on the screen.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Kaner’s got his head turned towards Jonny, looking incredulous, and his comment draws the attention of some of the others.

“Keep it the fuck down,” Sharpy says. “Some of us are trying to play here.”

Kaner snorts. “You mean lose.”

Sharpy flips him off while still managing to keep Mario on the road, which is impressive, but Kaner merely grins. He turns back to Jonny, grin still in place, and punches him in the thigh.

“You’re not serving that shit to my sisters, man,” he says, picking their conversation back up like the interruption never happened. Brandon’s beginning to realise that he maybe spends way more time watching Kaner than he should. He can feel the blush heating up his face, and turns back to see the game on his screen ending.

Shawzy’s watching him, eyebrows raised. “Something you wanna ‘fess up to, Saader?”

“Fuck off,” Brandon says, grabbing the controller out of his hands. “Let’s play again.”

Nick is watching him, way too intuitively for Brandon’s liking, so he keeps his attention on the screen. Nothing is happening, though, so he sighs and drops the controller back into his lap.

“What?”

Shawzy and Nick exchange a look. “We’re just looking out for you, Saader.”

Brandon sighs. He knows that, but he’d really rather not have to explain that he maybe sorta definitely has a crush on Kaner. “It’s fine. Seriously.”

“Stop being a martyr,” Nick says, uncharacteristically sharp. “It’s not difficult to talk about shit, so talk.”

Brandon stares down at his hands. He scowls, but knows it would probably help if he actually said something, so he shrugs. “Remember what I told you about the hand shit?”

Shawzy looks like he wants to laugh, but thankfully refrains. “Yeah, man. He’s not still doing it, is he?”

Brandon nods. “The thing is -”

“- you don’t mind?” Nick says. He grins, but Brandon can see that he’s serious when he says, “It doesn’t matter, you know.”

“Shit,” Shawzy says, suddenly, and Brandon’s blood runs cold, until he punches Brandon in the shoulder. “You didn’t think we’d care, did you?”

He’s not actually thought about it, but now that he is, Brandon thinks he probably was, at least on some level. “I don’t know what I thought.”

Shawzy and Nick share another glance, but this time they both nod. “We’re behind you, Brandon.”

The fact that Shawzy’s using his first name is proof enough of that.

“Thanks,” Brandon says, knowing there’s really only one other person he can talk to to figure out the shit going on in his head.

---

“I need to talk to you,” Brandon says, cornering Jonny in the locker room after practice. Most of the guys have gone already, and the few stragglers that remain are preoccupied with their own shit. Thankfully, Kaner is nowhere to be found, so Brandon doesn’t worry about what he’s got to say.

Jonny’s got a towel around his shoulders. He nods, scrubbing at his hair as he gestures at his cubicle. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s Kaner.” There’s an odd look on Jonny’s face, but Brandon doesn’t let him say anything. “He’s started doing something, and I wondered if he’d told you about it.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate,” Jonny says. Brandon can’t read the expression on his face.

“He likes holding my hand,” Brandon says, emphasising the hand so that Jonny gets it.

Jonny is staring at him, confused. “Okay?”

Brandon frowns. He doesn’t exactly know why jonny doesn’t understand. “So he doesn’t hold yours?”

“No,” Jonny says slowly, and Brandon has a feeling that he’s the one being slow here. “But then he’s not actively trying to bang me.”

“What,” Brandon says, before he can stop himself. He’s a little shellshocked, blinking and staring at Jonny. Jonny’s calmly towelling the rest of his hair dry, but there’s a smirk on his face, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Fuck you.”

Jonny grins. “I was just letting you know.”

“You and Kaner are fucking weird,” Brandon informs him, exasperated more than annoyed.

“And you just wish you and Kaner were fucking.” Jonny shrugs. “You should talk to him, you know.”

Brandon really wants to go and have a drink, but he’s been worrying about this shit for long enough, and if Jonny’s right and Kaner does want to bang him, then things might work out after all.

---

“Saader!” Kaner pulls open the door, grin in place. He gestures at the hall of his apartment, and Brandon follows him in, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t leave the hall, though, just hovers in the doorway. If this goes wrong, he wants to be able to escape as soon as possible.

“So,” Brandon says, when Kaner finally turns to look at him, frowning. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sure,” Kaner says affably. He looks confused as to why Brandon’s still standing in the hallway, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Brandon sighs, letting himself relax. In for a cent, in for a fucking dollar. “You’ve been holding my hand a lot lately.”

There’s a sudden flush on Kaner’s face, but he doesn’t confirm or deny.

“I wanted - did you mean to keep doing it?”

Kaner’s shorter than Brandon and Brandon would be an idiot to not notice, but when he’s standing up for himself, when he’s trying to defend himself, Kaner looks so much taller. “What if I did?”

Brandon thinks there might just be something to this after all. “Jonny says, and I quote, you want to ‘bang me’.”

Kaner flushes again, but he also grins. “Jonny needs to learn when to keep his fucking mouth shut.”

“Does he?” Brandon’s feeling braver all of a sudden, like he can actually have this, and the look on Kaner’s face is only making that all the more apparent.

“No,” Kaner says slowly, phrasing it almost like a question.

Brandon grins, then, and reaches forward, curling his fingers around Kaner’s hand. “You could have just said something.”

Kaner leans forward a little, his body curling closer to Brandon’s. “Yeah, I probably could have. But where’s the fun in that?”

When they lean in for the kiss - and it’s a fucking awesome kiss if Brandon does say so himself - he can feel both of them grinning.

the end