Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the season was paused in mid March, Anthony wasn’t sure where he should go to spend his isolation time. He didn’t mind the idea of heading back to Quebec to spend some time with his family but he didn’t wholeheartedly want to leave Michigan - at least not yet. But he didn’t want to be alone for that long if he did stay.

Spring was right around the corner and summer wasn’t far behind. Glenny kept getting on his case that he hadn’t experienced a *true* Michigan summer yet and if he left, he’d hear about it weekly from him.

“You going back home?” Dylan broke his train of thought. A few of the guys were lingering inside LCA - the earlybirds before practice - before it was eventually canceled with the news of the season being paused. Now it was time to pack up some essentials to keep training during the hault.

“I don’t know yet.”

“It’s hard to decide when no one knows how long the season’s gonna be stopped,” Dylan threw the rest of his sticks into his duffel back before working on his gloves and pads.

“Do we even want to finish the rest of the season?” Bert grunted from a few stalls down, filling his own bag with his belongings, but much more carelessly.

“Hey,” Fabs threw a roll of tape at him. “Some of us needed the full season to have a bounce back year.”

Mo chuckled at their usual antics as Dylan rolled his eyes. The idea of staying nearby and eventually having that so-called great Michigan summer did sound exciting when he remembered he’d be closer to some of the guys once the isolation restrictions lighten.

“Where are you going?” Anthony proposed to Tyler.

Robby answered for him with a bright smile and his eyebrows arched. “Bert’s staying with me.”

“I don’t know why I agreed now that you bring it back up.”

“Cause you looooooove me,” Fabs turned around to Bert’s direction and pointed at himself with both hands before making circular motions in the air to point as his face.

Tyler cringed. “Debatable.”

Mo thought it was sweet Bert would be staying with Fabs up in Mississauga for the next few weeks. Ever since he was traded and they eventually started going steady, they didn’t have the chance to spend time back in their hometowns yet. It was finally time to meet the family for them.

Getting back to work on packing up his stall, Mo’s mind absentmindedly started to drift as the bickering between Fabs and Bert became white noise to him this late into the season. Part of him wanted this break to be over quickly so he could finish the season and prove himself for the games he missed but he also would appreciate the few weeks off. Besides, their last few games on the schedule were brutal anyways.

Mantha became distracted by Larkin next to him. Something about the way one of his curls dropped down to cover a portion of his face with the veins in his arm visible as he zipped up his last bag made his eyes hard to deflect. There was something soft yet intincing about him.

“Are you staying here?” He realized he didn’t even ask Dylan yet. He was so concentrated on packing his stall that Dylan’s eyebrows were furrowed together.

Dylan looked up and met the question with a half smile as he blew air from his mouth to get his hair out of his face. “Yeah, just gonna chill at my place in Royal Oak.”

“All by yourself?”

“Sounds lonely now that you mention it,” Dylan shrugged.

“I would have said peaceful.”

Dylan’s half smile grew and Mo could have sworn he saw his cheeks tint red.

Bert and Fabs had packed up and drove off, leaving just Anthony, Dylan and Glenny left to start piling their own bags into their respective cars. Anthony had just finished tossing his last duffel back into the backseat when he heard Luke approaching behind him.

“You take my advice yet and think about living through a Michigan summer?”

“I’m thinking about it!”

“Sure you are,” Luke grinned.

“I am! Just don’t know where to go.”

“I’m heading back to GR, if you swing by let me know man.”

Anthony gave him a quick hug goodbye, knowing it would probably be a little bit before he saw him again. Or anyone on the team. Larks was heading out of the door with his last handful before he would have to say goodbye to him too.

“Are you bringing the whole arena with you?” Mo didn’t mind chirping his friend but he also enjoyed the view of him struggling to carry everything, thinking it was adorably stupid how he refused to make two trips.

“Would you shut up and open my car door for me?” Dylan shoved his last bag inside the trunk before Mo closed the door, both grateful nothing was dropped or broken. “Is that everything for you?”

“That’s everything, yeah.”

“You decide on where you’re staying yet?” Dylan ran a hand through his now sweaty, messy hair. He was looking at his friend, who seemed hesitant about his response, wondering what the restinance was about.

“I wanna stay here, you know?” Mo was a little quieter now. The realization that he probably wouldn’t see Dylan or any of his friends for a while was sinking in. “I just don’t like the idea of being alone but I have no where to stay with someone.”

Dylan didn’t even think twice about his proposal. “Just come hang with me for a while at my place, man.” Of course he’d invite one of his best friends to quarantine with him, it seemed like a no brainer. The idea of company actually sounded really nice.

“Really?” Anthony perked at the idea. “You won’t get sick of me?”

“If anything you’ll get sick of me,” Dylan said. “It’s not like you can’t go back to your own place for a few weeks if you change your mind.”

“I’ll just drop my stuff off and grab everything I need and I’ll come around tonight then.”

“Alright man, I’ll see you later,” Dylan smiled before heading into the driver's seat and taking off.

Something about the idea of staying with Larks for this long, uninterrupted, thrilled Mo. Ever since Bert and Fabs got together after weeks of never ending flirting, he sensed a new longing towards the younger American but he didn’t know what it all meant. Maybe he just felt safer entertaining those thoughts after Tyler and Robby went semi-public, not hiding from the team.

And he knew Dylan enjoyed his company, they were best friends after all. They’d grab meals together and train at the same time and always come around to the other’s place to hang out some nights. Their bus seats were never far apart and neither were their hotel rooms on the road. That wasn’t even including their chemistry on the first line together, both being instrumental players every night.

Anthony was sitting in his own car now, staring at the red light, trying to get home as fast as he could just so he could leave for Dylan’s. He was fantasizing about running his own hand through Dylan’s curly hair with his soft smile looking up at him.

It was at that traffic light when he realized. He didn’t know how, or still what it all meant, but Anthony couldn’t deny the suspican that he was falling just a little for his friend he just agreed to temporarily live with.

//

Two weeks into quarantine. As stressful and terrifying as the state of the world and society was, it didn’t transfer into the Larkin household.

Mantha made for some phenomenal company - or maybe Dylan was just glad he didn’t have to cook every night for himself anymore. Mo wasn’t the most skilled cook but even his amateur chicken or pasta dishes offered some good variety. Dylan ate most things he didn’t have to make anyways.

Making a grocery list was a little bit of a challenge. Dylan cooking for himself was no problem, he bought what he wanted, but now he had to deal with Anthony’s indecisiveness on what to order.

“Do you know what you want yet?

“You cannot rush the culinary arts and the thought process behind them.”

“Just tell me how many boxes of mac and cheese you want, chef.”

The only alone time that occurred for each of them throughout the day was when they found the motivation to train. The first couple days days were the easiest, Dylan did a lot of roller skating in the neighborhood while Mo got the living room to himself to do weights. Then he’d go outside to some springs so Larks could have the area for his cardio routine.

By day 5, the motivation was simmering. It was hard to pull yourself out of the comfort of your sweats and tee and interrupt the marathon of The Witcher they started. At least that was Dylan’s excuse for why his only exercise of the day was just the roller skating which he soon convinced Mo to join him on.

Mo, surprisingly to Dylan, was not a great skater off the ice. “You look like a fucking bird, you know that?” he laughed at him when Mo was extending his arms to try and keep balance.

“It’s different! I don't do this as much as you!”

“Watch out for the big cracks on the sidewalk, I wouldn't want you to fall and mess up my shiny new knee pads.”

“Fuck off Larks,” Mo’s skates bumped along the concrete.

Anthony realized he was in trouble those days when they started shit and Dylan would skate faster than him, playfully trying to lose him. They both knew only one of them remembered how to get back home.

Their marathon of The Witcher ended after their first week. Dylan was soon aggravated learning that Anthony spent more time scrolling through the options on Netflix than watching the actual program.

“Should we try Tiger King?”

“You mention it every other day, you can just say you want to watch it.”

“I don’t want to watch it that badly…”

Dylan griped about Mo making him watch the season but he was secretly glued to the screen during the chaos of the episodes, finally understanding the weird hype behind it. He also had to explain to his new roommate that no, adopting a cat right now would not be wise.

Their outfits had become less maintenance as time went on and the urgency to do laundry sometimes faded in both of their chore schedules. Not that Mo was helping around much in the first place, which Dylan audibly pointed out, but the guest usually washed his own things when he was running low on his wardrobe he stuffed into a suitcase weeks ago.

Grabbing a white shirt out of Dylan’s closet was supposed to go unnoticed. But when Anthony walked out that morning into the kitchen and Dylan turned around, coffee mug in hand, to see his closet had been invaded - the gripping began.

“That’s my favorite shirt!”

“It’s a solid white tee, you probably haven’t touched it in weeks.”

Dylan dramatically slammed his mug down. “I’ll have you know out of all the white shirts in the world, that one is the best.”

It wasn’t hard to pick up on Dylan’s playful tone as Anthony walked up to the counter between them in the kitchen. “This one is the best? This one I’m wearing right now?”

“Yes, so go take it off and do your own laundry.” Dylan’s face was pointed, like he wasn’t sure if he was going to just shove him in the right direction or rush into Mo’s room and steal his own clothes for vengeance.

“So I guess I shouldn’t do this,” Anthony said before he reached for the water bottle sitting on the counter. Very slowly, quite obviously dramatic himself, he unscrewed the cap and poured water all over the shirt. He didn’t waste a single drop. “It would be a shame if someone made a mess in your favorite shirt, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you gonna clean your shit now?” Larkin sighed, taking a moment to rub his hand over his eyes in disbelief of his idiotic teammate.

Mantha felt the shirt uncomfortably stick to his chest. “I think I should do that now.”

“No shit.” Larkin tried to contain his giggles but failed, which only continued as he watched Mo take the walk of shame upstairs to start his load of laundry with his clothes now awkwardly sticking to his body.

Larkin admired the view of Anthony’s back when he turned around. The water made the fabric stick to his skin, offering a visible screen for him to see the arches in his back and his large shoulders. Even some of the water had tripled down to his bottom, making it hard to ignore how much more noticeable the size of his ass was.

Dylan realized his coffee had gone cold from all the distracting thoughts of Anthony’s back and shoulders and what it would look like with scratches from his fingernails or even a couple marks from his lips.

Chapter Text

It was late May when the league announced their 24 team playoff format, effectively ending Detroit’s season in the tracks.

“I guess I saw it coming,” Mo flipped his phone on the couch after reading the news. He was comfortably stretched out on the couch in sweats, flipping the channels on the tv for something new to watch.

Dylan nodded. “Guess it sucks we can’t train or play for months now.”

“I miss the ice. Miss the boys.”

“You’re a sap,” Dylan absentmindedly replied as he glanced to see if Anthony picked anything good to watch.

“You miss them too, don’t fucking lie to me,” Mo rolled his eyes. He turned the tv off to give Dylan his full attention, appreciating him in the tight gray shirt and gym shorts he had on.

“I guess I miss someone else giving me a hard time for a change.”

“How dare you,” Anthony threw his hand over his heart in fake shock. “I have been an honorable guest these past months.”

Dylan didn’t say anything, he just lightly laughed as his eyes fell down to his lap. It stayed quiet for a moment before he replied. “I’m happy you’ve been with me during all of this. I think it would have been a lot harder without you around.”

“I thought I was the sap?”

Dylan laughed again and his heart swelled when he saw the glint of playfulness in Anthony’s eyes. He seemed so natural there, just lounging on the couch inside his place. Nothing about his stay had felt unnatural or forced, he just belonged here. Dylan wished he could live with him forever, even when all of this was over and they were back on the ice.

“At least we aren’t locked up as much,” Dylan continued. “Maybe we should make a drive out west and go annoy Glenny, Abby, and Danny for a few days.”

“Maybe,” Mo stretched his hand to rub his neck. “I should probably head home for a little first. Family misses me.”

Larkin felt like a crack just broke over his heart. Of course family time was important, but selfishly he didn’t want Mantha to leave him. He didn’t know when he’d come back to stay with him, if he’d come back at all. “Right, family, sure they’re bugging you to come back,” Dylan tried to shake off his doubts.

“A little,” Mo’s eyes moved to scan Larks. It was obvious in the way Dylan spoke his demeanor changed and his body had slumped. “You good?”

Mantha over the past few weeks had learned to pick up on almost every sign Dylan could give him with his voice or his body language. Dylan secretly appreciated it but sometimes it annoyed him that Mo could read him like an open book now. No one had ever been able to do that before.

“Maybe I don’t want you to leave.”

Dylan couldn’t even look him in the eye when he said it. It was up to Anthony to look at him, observing how Dylan looked like a lost puppy, slouching on the couch with most of the color drained from his face. “I don’t want to leave myself, but I do miss them too.”

“Maybe you can come back?” Dylan muttered.

“Maybe.”

“You sound like you don’t want to.”

“I want to, man, but I also don’t know when the season is gonna start for us. And I have my own place to take care of.” Anthony wasn’t trying to be vicious with his answer, but there was a certain level of annoyance seeking into him as he tried to ration with Dylan. It’s not like they hadn’t been spending time together already or they would never see each other.

“I know, I know,” Dylan replied softly. “I’ll just miss you, Mo.”

“I’m gonna miss you too Dylan.” Mantha couldn’t stay peeved for long at him, especially seeing how deflated he already was like this. He understood why it would hurt Dylan, even if that was never his intention. Mo just wanted to lighten the mood before things got worse. “Besides, you wanna hang around all those boring contract phone calls and meetings?”

“Sure I would. You’re sticking around anyways.” Dylan finally looked back up at Mo only to see it was Anthony now who seemed to close up. Like suddenly he was afraid of speaking and wished he just kept the tv on.

“Yeah…” he trailed off.

“Aren't you?” Dylan pressed.

“Of course I want to stick around, Dyl, but I don’t know if I want the long term deal I know Yzerman is gonna suggest.”

“Why’s that?”

“You gotta remember I’m a few years older than you-”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” It was Dylan’s turn to start feeling annoyed, his voice seeming sharper and nearly bitter.

“If we’re going to be in the basement still in 3, 4 years then maybe I want to look to sign somewhere else before then.”

“So you want to fucking leave?”

“It’s not like that-” Mo didn’t mean to abandon the team, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t think about playing for a good team. He wanted to make it to the playoffs before it was too late. Before he started to feel like he was getting too old to matter.

“What’s it like then? I got drafted here, trained here, worked here, I’m not gonna give up cause the plan isn’t as fast as I want it to be,” Larkin was starting to raise his voice.

“You’ve been the favorite the minute you put that jersey on, Dylan. Blash has always trusted you. No one ever doubted how good you are-”

“You’re a great fucking player and we all know that!”

“That was before everyone thought my development was fucked. No one second guessed you,” Mantha was yelling now, matching Dylan’s tone and level.

“So I had it easy then? I don’t understand hard work like you do?”

“That’s not what I fucking said.”

“Then say what you mean, Anthony.” Dylan’s tone was flat, desperate.

“I just want to make sure I go somewhere I belong okay? And maybe that’s with a team who has a better shot at winning something.”

“Where you belong? Is that what this is over? Finding somewhere you belong?” The anger that was building up in Larkin’s chest deflated when he heard Mo speak.

There was never a question or reason to doubt that Dylan was meant to be part of the organization. Hearing Anthony’s voice crack subtly, something only Dylan could probably pick up on, made him realize that Mo had a point. He couldn’t understand what it was like to second guess your place with a team, Detroit was his home the minute he slid the jersey over himself during the draft all those years ago.

Mo spoke after a moment of silence. “Yeah, Dylan, I just want to fit in for good.”

“You fucking belong here. You belong with this team and this city and you fucking belong with me.” Dylan was sweet with his sincerity as his eyes pooled and stared into Mantha’s.

“With you?” Mantha was staring right back.

“With me.”

“Dylan, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Dylan lied, swallowing his feelings. He wanted nothing more than to tell Mo that for weeks all he could think about was how his lips would feel on his. He couldn’t confess today anyways, he didn’t want to guilt him into staying if he wanted to head home and he didn’t want to push him away if he didn’t happen to feel the same.

The mood continued to lighten as Dylan’s heart grew when Mo softly smiled. “I know you better than almost anyone else man.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then I won’t leave, Larks.”

Mo was happy with staying. Dylan’s place felt safe. Dylan felt safe. His family would understand him staying for a while longer, and they both had plenty of time anyways before they were due back for next season. What was a few more weeks?

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you about the contract stuff,” Dylan sighed. “You’re right when you said I don’t get it, and I might never understand, but uh..” his eyes trailed to the floor.

“It’s just me, Dylan.”

“I’m here for you, okay?”

“Thanks Larks-”

Dylan’s nervous blabbing cut him off. “Even if you go to another team or something happens and you get traded I’ll always been a phone call or text away and you’ll always have a place to stay here and-”

As much as Mo loved to watch Dylan ramble himself into a hole, he knew he should stop this one. “Dylan, I know. I’m here for you too, yeah?”

Dylan stopped in his tracks and reconnected his sight line with Mo’s dilated pupils. Relief filled his system as he felt more at ease with Mo’s validation. “Yeah,” he smiled in his reply.

It was later that same night when Dylan realized if he didn’t tell Mo how he was really feeling he might never find the courage. He wasn’t planning on Anthony getting drunk, though, and it definitely took a lot for that man to start feeling a tingle.

Larks helped the bigger Canadian stumble up to the guest bedroom. Dylan wasn’t even thinking about telling him now, it didn’t feel right given Mo’s intoxication. But he couldn’t turn away when Mo was pouting and begging Dylan to stay with him that night.

Dylan crawled into the other side of the bed after he got Mantha laid down and situated. It was Mo’s orders, actually, that Dylan stayed with him at least until he passed out. Dylan was content just sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for Mo to sleep until he started drunkenly talk.

“You have pretty hair.”

“Thanks Mo.”

“You’re a reeeeally good hockey player.”

“You too, Mo.”

“You deserve to be the next captain.”

“You’re sweet, Mo.”

Dylan thought it was like talking to a toddler, but it was sweet and adorable so he didn’t mind. He liked Anthony’s complements and how he was excited about the small things. The small praises went on for a few more minutes and Dylan could have sworn Mantha’s eyelids were falling shut when he heard him mumble.

“I love you, Dylan.”

He didn’t think twice about his response. “I love you too, Anthony.”

“You didn’t call me Mo?”

“I changed it up,” Dylan spoke through his heart freezing in his chest. He hoped the beer in his roommate's system cloaked the nerves in his voice.
“You only call me Anthony when you’re being serious….” Mo trailed off, sounding half asleep. “So you must be serious about loving me baaaaack.”

“I… I am,” Dylan was hoping he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning despite his heart knowing this was what he's wanted for weeks now.

Slumber finally took over Mantha as he didn’t speak up again. Dylan watched him doze off just for a few minutes to make sure he was actually asleep, trying to address his emotions and make sense of the last 30 seconds.

When he went to stand up from the edge of the bed he realized Mo had outstretched his hand on top of his. Dylan realized, even if this wasn’t the most ideal scenario, he was happy the hard part was done for him as his thumb trailed Mo’s skin.