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Connor texts him the hotel room number, so he can head straight up – he just has to collect the second key that Connor had left at the desk for him. It’s weird, letting himself into the room, but he’s so excited, he can’t help but call out “Honey, I’m home…”
Silence is the only response. It’s not a huge hotel room, and it doesn’t take him long to realise he’s alone. He fires off a quick message to Connor, only to find out that he’s at dinner with the team.
It’s another half an hour before the door opens, and Connor walks in, a grin on his face – the second they’re together again it’s like they’d never been apart, bodies slotting together, Connor tilting his face up so Dylan can capture his mouth in a kiss.
“Happy birthday babe,” Connor says softly, pushing Dylan back onto the bed.
For a few moments, it’s perfect, lying there on the bed, making out with Connor, it’s like time hasn’t passed, they could be back in Erie together, building their dreams around each other.
Then Connor’s phone buzzes in his pocket – they both feel it, and Connor fishes it out to have a look. “Fuck,” he swears, “The boys are all having drinks in the bar downstairs.”
“Say you’re busy,” Dylan smirks, pulling Connor down for another kiss, “So busy.”
“Babes.” Connor presses a quick kiss to his nose, “I can’t. You know what it’s like being a rookie.”
“Say you have a headache.” Dylan suggests.
“Dyls.” Connor pulls away, getting up off the bed, “I’ll be a couple of hours at most.”
“The fuck?” Dylan sits up, “I’m here for one fucking night Con, you can skip out on your teammates.”
“It’s just a couple of hours.” Connor counters, “I’ll be back later.”
Dylan can feel himself getting angrier. “It’s my fucking birthday Con.”
“Keep your voice down Dyl,” Connor hisses, “I’ll get fined if anyone thinks you’re here.”
“Fuck you.” Dylan glares at him "If you leave… I won't be here when you get back."
“Don’t be ridiculous Dyls, of course you will.”
“I mean it Connor,” There’s a tension to Dylan’s jaw that isn’t usually there, “I won’t be yours anymore if you walk away right now.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Connor snaps, “I can’t deal with you when you’re like this Dylan.”
“Then don’t.” Dylan offers up half a shrug, “Go back downstairs, go back to your NHL buddies.”
“That’s not….” Connor snaps, a huff of frustration escaping past his lips, “That’s always what this is about, isn’t it Dyls?”
Dylan shrugs, throwing himself back onto his bed, “It is what it is, you’d rather be hanging out with them, that you see every fucking day, than be here with me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Connor whirls around, and there’s cruelty in his eyes, “You can’t accept the fact that I’m there, and you’re here, where you’ve always been.” He jabs a finger into Dylan’s chest, “You know Arizona doesn’t want you, so you think I don’t want you either.”
“Fuck you.” Dylan’s back on his feet, pushing Connor. It’s nothing new, their fights have always been physical, but Dylan’s far stronger than Connor these days, and he pushes him towards the door, making Connor stumble. “This has nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the fact that you think you’re too good for me now.”
“Maybe I will go.” Connor spits up at him, “Maybe you’re right.”
“Then go.” Dylan opens the door, shoving Connor out into the corridor, slamming the door behind him, not caring that Connor’s not wearing shoes and doesn’t have his roomkey or his wallet.
Connor clearly doesn’t care either, because Dylan hears the footsteps down the corridor heading to the lift.
He grabs his phone, and hits dial.
“’Nother fight?” Alex asks, answering on the first ring as always.
Dylan sniffs at him, “How d’you know.”
“You wouldn’t call me during your precious Connor time if everything was peachy.” Alex admits sagely, “Hence you calling me, means you guys have had another fight.”
“Sorry,” Dylan mumbles, even though he’s not really, because if there’s one person he can rely on, it’s Alex. “It’s just….” He sighs, “If I’d chosen to spend my birthday with you, would you want to spend it with me, or would you go and hang out with the rest of the guys.”
Alex groans, “Don’t make me answer that Dyl, I know you’re hurting, but that’s hardly fair.”
“Sorry,” Dylan says again, and he does mean it this time. Alex’s crush is visible from space, but Dylan’s been with Connor since before Alex came along, and he’s always been really good about it, but anyone who’s ever been an otter knows how Alex feels about Dylan – Dylan included. “I mean it Kitten – I’m just… I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ve got two choices,” Alex is pragmatic as always, “You leave his hotel room and get on a flight home, or you stay until your scheduled flight tomorrow afternoon.”
“But how do I decide?” Dylan whines, throwing himself back onto the plush bed – it’s mad how different it is from the skeezy motels they stay in for the OHL.
“Are you going to make up with him?” Alex asks with a sigh, “Because honestly, you and Davo fight all the time, so it’s probably not worth coming home, because past experience tells me you’ll make up with him before you land in Erie.”
“Except it’s never been this obvious before.” Dylan sighs, “We’re so different Alex.”
“Are you?” Alex always hates himself a little bit when he does this, when he talks Dylan into making things up with Connor, and yet it seems like he always does.
“He’s the fucking saviour of hockey, fucking McJesus,” Dylan swears, “And not even the fucking yotes want me.”
“It’s your first year,” Alex and Dylan have had this conversation so many times since Dylan came back to Erie, “It’s perfectly normal to need some development time.”
“You won’t.” Dylan pouts, “I bet you’ll be just like him, straight off to the show.”
“Loads of guys go back to the O,” Alex says softly, “And maybe you’re just lashing out at Connor because your hurting.”
“Maybe,” Dylan admits, “But he doesn’t care, not at all.”
Alex gives a little shrug, “Does he know how to show that he cares?”
“You do.” Dylan pouts, and yeah, he knows it’s not exactly fair to compare Alex and Connor, especially not to Alex.
“Come home then.” Alex snaps, and then, with a sigh, “Sorry Dyl, it’s late, and I’m not sure what to suggest.”
“I’ll get my usual flight home.” Dylan admits, “Because buying another flight is a waste of money. But I don’t want to do this anymore, I’m done with fighting.”
“Ok,” Alex sighs, “I’ll pick you up from the airport, just like we planned.”
It’s late when Connor gets back, slipping into the bed beside Dylan. “Sorry babe.” He whispers against Dylan’s shoulder, pressing a kiss into his skin as he slips his arms around his waist.
“Not your babe.” Dylan snarks, he’s not asleep, he’s still livid, “I meant it. You walked away, I’m not yours anymore.”
“Dylan,” Connor sighs, stroking his hair softly, “Get some sleep babes, we’ll talk about this in the morning.”
The morning comes, and Dylan is up before Connor, which frankly, never happens – he’d only managed to get a couple of hours sleep before rolling out of bed. He showers, and packs his bag, before sitting in the chair, scrolling through his phone waiting for Connor to wake up.
“Dylan?” Connor asks groggily, as soon as his alarm goes off, “Come back to bed babes.”
“No.” Dylan’s tired, but he’s not giving in, “I’m going to go explore the city on my own before my flight back.”
“Dylan.” Connor sits up, “You’re being ridiculous again, come back to bed and let me make it up to you.”
“It was my birthday,” Dylan glares at him, “And I flew in to see you, and you decided to go and hang with your teammates anyway.”
“I couldn’t very well tell them why I wanted to skip out,” Connor points out pragmatically.
“No?” Dylan gives a little shrug, “I mean, actually you could have done, and trusted them, what with them being your team.”
“I’d have been fined!” Connor protests.
“And?” Dylan shrugs, “The point is, you didn’t think it was that important to spend my birthday with me, so you didn’t.” He stands up, grabbing his suitcase, “I only stayed until you woke up because leaving while you were still sleeping seemed like a dick move.”
He half hopes Connor is going to chase him down the hotel corridor, pulling his sweats on as he runs, but he doesn’t. He lingers perhaps a moment too long in the hotel lobby, waiting for Connor to have thrown some clothes on and come racing down the stairs to catch him up, but of course he doesn’t.
Alex is waiting at arrivals, solid, dependable Alex.
“Did you guys make up?” He asks, as Dylan slides into the seat beside him.
Dylan shakes his head, “I don’t know Kit,” he sighs, “It really feels like the end this time.”
“You’ve said that before.” Alex points out.
“Yeah, but,” Dylan sighs, “That was always when we were in the same place – I’m beginning to wonder if I was just convenient for him.”
Alex reaches across the dashboard and squeezes his thigh, “If that’s the case,” he grins at Dylan, “Then fuck him, Captain or no.”
He grins back at Alex, “At least I’m back in a country where I can drink.”
So they get drunk, because they can, and Alex puts him to bed in his own bed and sleeps on the couch at his billet house, because Alex isn’t stupid enough to torture himself by sharing a bed with Dylan, but he also recognises that the couch is infinitely more uncomfortable for Dylan than it is for him.
Connor calls three days later, but Dylan doesn’t answer, and Alex thinks that’s the first time that’s ever happened. Of course, he calls again, three days after that, and Dylan does, but in his mind, that three day stretch marks the beginning of the end in Alex’s mind.
Dylan and Connor get back together, they always do, and this time it’s for a another few months, until the Otters make the playoffs, and the Oilers don’t, and Connor won’t come to Erie to support them. He says it’s because he’d detract attention from them, because he has training that he needs to do, media obligations to fufil, but Dylan doesn’t care.
“This is the last fucking time Connor.” He’s yelling down the phone, but it’s not like he has other options.
“You’re overreacting,” Connor sighs, “I’ll come and join you when you’ve won.”
Connor’s faith in him makes Dylan pause for half a second, but it’s only half a second. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can come and see the boys, because the Otters will always be your team, but you’ll not come as my boyfriend.”
“Ok babes,” Connor sighs, sounded resigned, sounding like he’s expecting this, and he’s expecting Dylan to take him back the way Dylan always does.
“I’m not taking him back,” Dylan tells Alex sternly, they’re side by side, lacing their skates.
“You don’t need him.” Alex tells him, “We don’t need him. We’re going to go out and win the cup without him.”
“Ottos for life,” Dylan can’t stop himself reaching out and giving Alex’s hand a squeeze.
“Ottos for life.” Alex agrees.
Of course, Connor comes back after they win, and Dylan, exuberant and high on victory welcomes him back with open arms, and Alex watches as they fall back into their old patterns for the summer. Of course, old patterns for Dylan and Connor are fighting, crying, fucking, making up, fighting some more and generally driving Alex crazy. He tries to spend as much of the summer away from them, because this might be his last summer with the boys, but he’s learnt enough that watching Connor break Dylan’s heart time and time again just breaks his own.
When Dylan gets sent down to Tuscan, Alex finds out via a text before the google alert on his phone for Dylan confirms the news. He calls him straight away, he’s there to emotionally hold his hand, even if he can’t physically touch him.
“It happens Dyl,” he says softly, “Loads of guys go to the A for development – Ry did it didn’t he?”
“You haven’t.” Dylan mutters sulkily, “You’re still in Chicago.” And then, a little quieter, “Connor didn’t.”
“You can’t keep comparing yourself to him,” Alex says sadly, even though they all do a little bit, it’s hard not to, and harder still for Dylan – always in Connor’s shadow. “What has he said?”
“That presumes he’s called me.” Dylan mutters snarkily, “Which would be a hell of a lot to ask from McJesus.”
“Dyl,” Alex says reproachfully, they all know how much Davo hates that name, “I’m sure he will.” It’s a platitude, but not a lie, because he knows Connor will call – eventually, it’ll just be on his timetable, not Dylan’s.
“Do you think I’m high maintenance?” Dylan asks.
Alex snorts down the phone, “I mean, a bit.” He confesses, “But you know I also think you’re worth it.”
“Thanks Kit,” Dylan says sincerely, “I mean it, I know I lean on you a lot for this, and it isn’t fair on you.”
“You’re my friend Dyl,” Alex tells him, “Put everything else aside, and you’re my friend. I’m gonna be here for you whether you like it or not.”
He calls Dylan every night, until a week later Dylan confesses, “He still hasn’t called me.” In a quiet, hurt voice. “Do you think I should break it off?”
“Can you?” Alex asks honestly, “Can you break it off, because I’ve seen you do it a thousand times,” he might be exaggerating slightly, “And in a few weeks, he’ll apologise, he’ll come back into your life and you’ll take him back, the way you always do.”
“I love him.” Dylan mutters stubbornly.
“I know you do,” Alex sighs, “But is that enough? At the end of the day, that’s what you’ve got to ask yourself, is you loving him enough?”
“What else is there Alex?” Dylan throws himself dramatically back down on the bed, “If I can’t make things work with my one true love, who can I make them work with?”
Alex bites back the ‘me’ that’s always on the tip of his tongue when Dylan asks him questions like that, “Relationships aren’t just about love.”
“When did you get so wise?” Dylan scowls at him.
Dylan caves eventually, and calls Connor, which he’d told himself he wouldn’t do, and connor does that irritating thing he always does of answering the phone when he’s not actually ready to take a phonecall.
“Ow, Drai,” he laughs, sounding like he’s had the breath punched out of him, “Get off, I have to take this.” There’s a quiet murmur at the other end, “It’s Dylan,” and then, “Dylan… my friend from juniors.”
Dylan’s torn between wanting to hang up and wanting to stay on the phone to yell at Connor, but then Connor speaks directly into the mouthpiece, “Hey,” his smile is audible, “How’s my favourite ‘yote?”
Dylan hangs up.
He also deletes Connors number, which is frankly useless, because it’s there in his messages every time Connor sends him a text or tries to call him. He doesn’t tell anyone they’ve broken up, he doesn’t even tell Connor, although he guesses he probably gets the message, but when he’s home for Christmas and his mum asks him how Connor is, he bursts into tears on her.
She holds him, and comforts him, and echos what Alex had told him, that love is wonderful, but at the end of the day, it’s not love that keeps relationships going – it’s hard work.
“But what if I want to put the work in,” Dylan sobs, “And he doesn’t.” He looks up at his mom as she holds him on her lap like he’s a child again, “What if I love him more than he loves me.”
“You’ll love again,” She murmurs, “I promise you – right now it feels like he’s your world, but one day you’ll love again and you’ll love someone who loves you just as much, if not more.”
“I don’t want someone else.” He pouts, “I want Connor.”
“I know love,” She tells him, “But right now you need to choose, and you’re not choosing Connor over someone else you might meet in the future, but you need to choose between yourself and Connor, because honestly, the way he’s been treating you – he doesn’t deserve you.”
“How.” Dylan sobs, “He’s better than me in every way possible.”
“No.” Trish bends down to press a kiss to her middle son’s forehead, “He’s not. He might be a better hockey player than you, that I won’t argue you on. Is he a better person than you? Never, is he a better friend than you, more loving than you, kinder than you.” Her own voice is cracking with emotion now, “Pickle I am so proud of the man you are becoming, and you are so much better than him, you’re better than anyone I know.”
Dylan can’t resist himself, “Even Matty and Ry?” He asks with a cheeky grin.
“Well…” She pulls a face, “If you’re willing to clean up after dinner you’ll be one up on Matty.” She sighs a little, and her expression turns serious once again, “I think you’ve spent so long loving Connor that you’ve forgotten a little bit how to love yourself.”
Dylan nods, “I’m not even sure there is anything to love about me,” he admits quietly.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She says, with the utter conviction of a mother, “There is so much to love about you Pickle – you just need to listen to the people who love you, and we’ll tell you what it is.”
She makes them do it while they’re on their weekly family skype call, actually, four of them are at home, and it’s only Ryan who are on skype, but she makes them go around and tell Dylan what it is they love about him, and part of Dylan wants to curl up and die right there on the spot, but he remembers what they said, and he replays it in the quiet of his mind.
“You’ve never pretended you’re better than me,” Matty had said, “Even when it’s things where you are.”
“You work harder than anyone I know,” Ryan had told him, “But you don’t make it seem like a grind.”
“You’re kind, and you’re loving.” His mom had reiterated her words from earlier, “So kind Dylan.”
“You’re brave.” His dad had added, “I can’t imagine how brave you had to be to not only tell your family about having a boyfriend, but telling your teammates as well.”
That’s the hardest one to accept – he’d never seen it as being brave, he’d just known that it was impossible to hide how he felt, but perhaps, in retrospect, recklessness is a bravery of sorts. He lets what they’d said roll around his brain, before he hits the speed dial on his phone.
“Hey,” comes the tired voice on the other end of the line.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dylan chews on his lip as he asks, he’s nervous. “It’s not a very nice question, and I’m a bit of a dick for asking it.”
There’s a sigh, and then, “You’ll owe me one, ok Stromer?”
“Anything.” Dylan answers honestly, and then, “What do you see in me?”
Alex lets out a guttural moan, “Do I have to answer that?”
“My mom says I don’t love myself enough because I love connor too much.” Dylan explains, “So I’m trying to find stuff to love about myself.”
“There’s loads to love about you Dyl.” Alex gives a sigh, “Where do you want me to start?”
Dylan shrugs, “I mean, my mom says I’m kind, and Ry says I work hard. So I know that.”
“Is it superficial if I bring up the hella cute thing?” Alex asks with a grin.
“I’m not though.” Dylan counters, “I’m all gawky and freaky looking, and I have raccoon eyes. You know that.”
“I like your raccoon eyes.” Alex admits softly, “And you’re tall, and fucking built, which, from a purely superficial point of view is really hot.”
“I’m not built.” Dylan frowns.
“Dyl!” Alex lets out a laugh, “Take your shirt off and go look in the mirror. You might not have been built when I first met you, but Christ you’ve piled on the muscle since then.”
Dylan uses the hand not holding his phone to tug his shirt over his head, before looking at himself in the phone screen, flexing a little.
“Do you mind?” Alex squeaks, but there’s laughter in his voice.
“Nope.” Dylan sticks his tongue out, “I guess I have bulked up a bit. It’s hard to notice, because it’s been kind of gradual.”
Alex doesn’t point out how he’d noticed. “You’re funny.” He tries not to stare too much, his phone filled with the image of Dylan’s naked torso. “That’s another thing you could love about yourself.”
“Funny looking,” Dylan mutters, and then, belatedly, “Thanks though.” He pouts a little, “I’m not sure being funny is the best thing in the world.”
“You underestimate how much it means to the rest of us.” Alex points out, “How much you hold us all together. You’re a fucking good Captain too.” He adds, “And like, the team Canada guys agree with me on that one.”
“I should text Marns, see what he loves about me,” Dylan thinks distractedly.
“He’ll just say how much you cuddle him.” Alex points out, “And you do give good cuddles.”
Dylan laughs at him, “You’re easy to cuddle Kit, you’re so small.”
“Hey!” Alex sticks his tongue out at him, “I’m on a line with Kaner now, it’s like a regular height people line.”
“Midget line.” Dylan corrects, and then, “Thank you Kit – you shouldn’t have to put up with me.” He pauses for a moment as a horrible thought crosses his mind, “Do I treat you the way Con treats me?”
“No.” Alex’s answer is instantaneous, “Because you’ve never strung me along Dyl, you’ve never let me think this is anything other than friendship.”
“I don’t even know if Davo wants to be my friend.”
“You don’t need him to.” Alex grins, “You’ve got loads of friends.”
“Doesn’t feel that way in Tuscon,” Dylan admits softly, “It’s kind of lonely, and they weren’t lying when they said that the A is way more brutal and cut throat.”
“I’m only ever a phone call away,” Alex promises, “And aren’t you going to see Marns in a couple of days?”
Dylan nods, he’s heading into the city to watch Mitch playing with the Leafs, and then they’re going out to dinner – it’s the thing he’s been looking forward to most about coming home.
“So call me whenever you need.” Alex reminds him, “Because I’m a sap, and I will always answer.”
Dylan grins at him, too grateful to be able to chirp him about it. “Thank you Kit,” he says again, “I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you.”
When it hits 6 weeks after he’d deleted Connor’s number, he tells Alex on the phone. “This is the longest I’ve ever broken up with him for.”
“Good.” Alex grins, “You keep breaking that record.”
“I actually think I will,” Dylan tells him, and then goes on to tell him about the goal he’d scored, and the good practise he’d had, and yeah, he might not be playing in the show, but he’s playing his ass off, and the coaches are noticing him.
Connor calls him towards the end of the season, as soon as they know the oilers aren’t making the playoffs, and Dylan knows why he’s calling, so he doesn’t pick up. But after the fifth time, he caves and answers.
“I’m not a fucking booty call Davo,” he snarks as soon as he answers.
“Hey,” Connor’s voice is placating as always, “I didn’t mean that babes, you’re my best friend – I wanted to come and see you, play some road hockey, work out together.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Dylan admits.
“Because you don’t think we can be friends?”
Dylan snorts before he regains his composure, “No dumbass, because my mum hates your ass and if you come anywhere near our house she might legit kill you.”
“Why does your mum hate me?”
Honestly, Dylan has no idea how Connor can be this stupid, “Because you broke my heart?” He offers up, and it hurts to say it, even now, even months after the fact.
“Did I?”
Dylan hangs up, it’s a common theme on his phone calls with Connor. He contemplates changing his phone number when Connor calls back three times in a row, but he decides to call Mitch instead.
“I’m not seeing Davo this summer,”
“Didn’t think you would,” Mitch answers honestly, “Like, after the way he treated you? Fuck him.”
“Well,” Dylan says softly, “Like, I don’t mind if you hang out with him, I get that you guys are friends, but I thought I’d tell you in case you thought about inviting us both to stuff, because, like, don’t or whatever.”
“Dude,” Mitch is all smiles on the other end of the call, “Like, I’m not interested in seeing Davo after the way he treated you, and I’d rather hang out with you and Mikey anyway.”
“Cool.” It’s a relief, he’s not going to lie, because he always knew that Alex would pick him over Connor, and he doesn’t want to ask Mitch to choose, but knowing that if he had to, he’d choose Dylan – that makes his heart hurt a little bit less than it had been.
“Plus, who the hell else would cuddle me all summer long eh?” Mitchy teases him, and they continue planning their summer, with work-outs and road hockey and back yard barbeques.
He finds the strength to answer another of Connor’s phone calls nearly a week later.
“What did you mean?” Connor asks him, and there’s a note of sincerity in his voice, “That I broke your heart?”
“You didn’t care when I got sent down,” It’s not the only thing, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“I cared,” Connor tells him, “I was just busy.”
“No.” Dylan remembers all the things that Alex has told him, “You’re going to apologise, and I’m going to forgive you and then I’ll take you back, and we’ll go through it all again.” He’s proud of himself in that moment, proud that he’s able to stand up for himself. “The truth of the matter is Connor, you’ve never loved me as much as I love you.”
“Dyls!” Connor sounds genuinely hurt, “Of course I love you bud.”
“Bud.” Dylan snorts, and hangs up – there’s only so much he can give and he ignores Connor’s texts asking what he’d said wrong that time, and then he ignores Connor’s texts telling him that he’s a high maintenance drama queen, and then he ignores Connor’s texts saying that no-one will ever love him because he’s crazy.
It’s actually the most chilled out summer he’s had in a while, hanging out with his family, and of course the McLeod’s, occasionally hanging out with Mitch. They spend most of their time trying to lock little Matty and little Ryan in a closet together so they actually have to talk about their feelings, and honestly, laughing at his baby brother’s failed attempts at relationships makes him feel so much better about his own.
Camp comes around too fast, and he realises with a sinking feeling that he doesn’t want to go back to Arizona, he doesn’t want to go back and try his hardest for a team that makes him feel like they don’t want him.
“It’s part of the job,” Ryan tells him one night as they sit there drinking their beers on the porch. “You won’t always like the team, but you’ll get there.”
“Do you like the Oilers?” he asks him softly.
“Nope,” Ryan admits, “It’s work, and I’d rather be back in New York, but like I said – it’s just part of the job.”
So he goes back to the desert, and works his ass off for the ‘yotes, even though they don’t love him, because at the end of the day, he’s starting to love himself, and that’s way more important than his team loving him, than management loving him, and it’s definitely more important than Connor loving him.
He still calls Alex every night, because through it all Alex has been the one who’s been there for him, and somehow, he’s come out of this relationship not only with more respect for himself, but with more respect for Alex.
“You’re awesome,” he tells him one night over the phone.
“Er, thanks, I guess?” Alex is staring at him like he’s grown a second head.
“I mean it,” Dylan grins at him, “You’re all like smart and stuff about relationships, which is crazy, because I swear you’re only fifteen.”
“Fuck you,” Alex grins at the gentle chirp.
“And you’re an awesome friend – you know that right Kit?” Dylan ignores Alex’s self-depreciating shrug, and carries on, “I never ask about your love life though, anyone in the picture, because honestly, you deserve the best.”
Alex shakes his head, “Nope.” He grins at Dylan, “Kind of have this stupid crush that gets in the way remember?”
“Still?” Dylan laughs softly, “Like Kit, you have terrible taste, has anyone ever told you that?”
Alex rolls his eyes, “Thought you were all self-loving now,” he points out, “You should accept that I have great taste.”
Dylan only played 21 games with the ‘yotes last year, and when he gets called into to talk to management after 19 games he’s got a horrible sinking feeling, and the first half of the conversation about how he’s playing hard but he’s not a good fit is exactly the same conversation so when the word traded comes up he’s completely blindsided by it. He wats to ask where, but his mouth is too dry to speak, and when he hears the word Chicago he can’t even think.
He’s straight on his phone as he walks out of the meeting, “Binks,” he says solemnly, “I’m going to need you to tell me everything you can about your AHL team.”
“Why?”
“I’m coming to Chicago.”
The squeals on the other end of the phone are deafening, and then give way to delighted laughter, “You’ll be here.” Alex says it like it’s a promise he can make. “You’ll be here with me.”
Dylan joins them on the road, and his first time meeting his team they’re already on the ice in the middle of practise at an unfamiliar rink. He suits up in his unfamiliar practise jersey, and steps out nervously onto the ice. Moments later, he’s got arms full of DeBrincat, Alex’s arms sliding around his waist like they’d never been apart.
“Hey Kit,” He says grinning down at him, patting him on the head, “Gonna introduce me?”
The rest of the team have slid to a halt amidst their drills, and upon seeing who it is, there are wolf whistles and cheers coming from all of them. Alex just coolly throws up his middle finger, and skates over towards the coach, “Come on, meet coach and find out what he wants from you today – ignore the rest of these assholes.”
“Hey Kit,” Shawzy calls out from the other end of the rink, “Do you need some smelling salts in case you swoon.”
Alex blushes a little and makes a rude gesture at Shawzy. “Sorry,” he says to Dylan, “I might have talked about you a bit.”
Kaner slides in from the other side, “By which he means since we’ve known him The Cat hasn’t talked about anything else – every other word out of his mouth is your name.”
Dylan grins, reaching out a gloved hand to ruffle Alex’s hair, “I’m used to it.” He admits, before he turns to their coach, waiting to find out his drills.
It’s not until they’re on the bus, heading back to the hotel, Alex leaning against his shoulder, their hands intertwined, that Shawzy addresses the matter again.
“Wait,” he stares down at their hands, “Are you two actually a thing?”
“Oh,” Alex blushes, trying to pull his hand away, but Dylan has a pretty good grip on him.
“Nah,” Dylan grins, “It’s an otter thing isn’t it.”
“Holding hands?”
He shrugs, “Stops you from floating away.”
“That’s actually a thing,” Tazer pipes up, “Actual otters hold hands when they’re sleeping, to stop them from floating away from their mates.”
“Of course it isn’t real,” Dylan adds, with a little smirk, “Because if I floated away, Binks would just chase me down.” He shoots a grin at Alex.
“Fuck off Stromer.” Alex mutters from where he has his face buried in Dylan’s shirt, burning with embarrassment.
“You guys are adorable.” Shawzy proclaims, before twisting back in his seat to sit down.
It’s a sweet few days with the hawks, and eventually once they’re back in Chicago, he gets to enjoy his first night out with the team. Before they head into the bar however, Tazer pulls him off to one side for a private chat.
“It’s about The Cat,” The Captain explains, and Dylan can’t help but grin a little at the nickname.
“What about him?”
“You know he’s into you, yeah?” Jonny asks softly, “Because you’re kind of leading him on a bit.”
“That’s just us.” Dylan waves his hand easily, “Like, Kit’s been into me since forever, he knows I’m unavailab….” He trails off, “Ah.” He stops short. “Maybe I should….”
“Just think on it.” Jonny claps him on the shoulder, “Because we like having you here, and you’re a good fit for this team, but if you hurt him, you won’t be staying.”
Dylan nods, hurting Alex is the last thing he wants to do, regardless of what effect it might have on team cohesion.
He settles into his place at the table, beside Alex, suddenly unaware of whether he should put his arm around him or not, he settles for just knocking their knees together as he takes a sip of the beer Alex places in front of him.
“So,” Seabs asks Alex, “We’ve heard you waxing lyrical about Stromer here Cat, but what was playing with him in juniors really like?”
Alex shrugs, “I mean, Otters life was….” He falters, and then gets that quiet little smile, the one that Dylan knows means a chirp is coming, “There was our Captain, who worked us too hard, and his numbers obsessed alternate who just quoted stats at us all the time, and they were in an on again off again relationship that meant they frequently brought their rows into the locker room,” he smirks fully this time, eyes flickering over to where Kane and Toews are sat next to each other, before turning back to Seabs, “So pretty much like being a Blackhawk.”
The entire team collapses with laughter.
“Did you catch that fucking shade,” Seabs laughs at Toews, “Cat’s got you two nailed.”
“Hang on,” Kaner suddenly pipes up, pointing at Dylan, “You’re dating McJesus?”
“No.” Dylan shakes his head. “I mean, I was, for like, a stupidly long time. But I’m completely done with him now.”
“Are you?” Alex shoots him a sly little look, “Because I’ve heard that before.”
“I’ve not spoken to him since before the summer,” Dylan admits, “And honestly, yeah. It’s taken some time, but I’m so over him.”
“Huh,” Kane looks at him curiously, “I always thought you were dating Marner.”
That’s the point that Alex collapses with the giggles, “Dylan and Mitch,” he laughs when he can catch his breath enough to speak again.
“Yeah,” Dylan thinks about it briefly, “That wouldn’t work.”
“What the fuck would you do?” Alex can’t stop laughing, “Scissor?”
That sets Dylan off, and they’re both howling with laughter, and honestly, being with Alex at his side, Dylan feels lighter than he has in years.
He forgets about the chat he’d had with Jonny, until Kaner catches him a few days later. They’re hanging out in the players lounge – Alex is off seeing the trainers, but the rest of the team are in the penalty kill meeting.
“So,” Kaner swings his legs up onto the couch so they’re resting in Dylan’s lap. “You and The Cat.”
“It’s not a me and him thing,” Dylan tells him quickly.
“Would you like it to be?” Kaner asks, blunt and to the point.
Dylan shrugs, “I mean, he’s awesome.” He admits, “He’s literally the greatest guy I know – but he’s been there for me when I’ve been a complete mess.”
“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in that sentence.”
Another shrug, “I don’t know,” He pulls a face, “It’s scary. I loved Con so fucking much, and he broke me.”
Patrick lets out a low laugh, almost bitter, “Take it from someone who waited a really long time to realise that the person who’s always there for you, even when you’re a complete fuck up, is the person you should be loving. Let yourself love him Stromer – God knows he wants you to.”
“I’ve no idea why.” Dylan whispered softly, “He’s seen me at my worst, and I’ve been a total ass to him over the years.”
That startles another laugh from Patrick, “It’s taken me years to accept the fact that Jonny loves me, even though I did some really fucking reprehensible stuff, some of which was to him, some of it wasn’t.” He pauses for a moment, chewing his lip as he thinks, “I’m a better person because I let Taze love me.” He grins at Dylan, “And because I love him back.”
“I want to treat him right.” Dylan admits, “Like, I want to be the kind of person he deserves.”
“So do that,” Patrick says, as if it’s that easy, “Be that guy.”
It starts the next morning, Dylan gets up a few minutes earlier than usual, so he can nip out and get them both coffee from the nearest coffee shop before it’s time to leave for practise.
“What’s this for?” Alex asks sleepily, as he accepts the proffered mug.
“You deserve it,” Dylan answers honestly.
They’re off on a roadie that day, and Dylan slips a note into Alex’s suitcase when he’s not looking saying “Miss being your roomie xxx”. Alex rolls his eyes at him when they get down to dinner, but he’s smiling, so Dylan thinks it’s a win.
They’re back at home before too long, and Dylan makes sure to get Alex’s favourite snacks when he does the grocery shopping, putting them on the counter with another note – this time with just a heart on it. He’s on the couch playing on the x-box when Alex walks in waving the note.
“Are you trying to seduce me Dyl?” He asks, a frown on his face.
“Maybe?” Dylan asks hesitantly, “Unless it’s a huge problem, in which case I’ll stop, but I got the impression it probably isn’t a huge problem.”
Alex snorts, and sits down beside him, “You realise I’m a sure thing, yeah Stromer?”
Dylan reaches out, he can’t stop himself, and runs his thumb along Alex’s cheekbone, “Just because you’re a sure thing, doesn’t mean you don’t deserved to be wooed.”
“I can’t believe you just said wooed.” Alex points out, ignore the bright red flush that’s now staining his cheeks.
“You deserve it.” Dylan glares at him, “You deserve wooing.”
“Can you stop with that word.” Alex laughs, “And you don’t have to.”
Dylan shrugs a little, letting his hand drop, his gaze falling to his knees, “I want you Kit,” he says quietly, “But I don’t want to be Connor.”
“You aren’t?”
“No,” He glances over nervously, “I mean, I don’t want to treat you the way Con treated me, I don’t want to take you for granted, I don’t want to treat you like you don’t deserve the world, because you do Alex, you really do.” When he finally digs up the courage to look Alex in the eye again, he notices tears sparkling on Alex’s lashes.
“Firstly,” Alex reaches up a hand to brush furiously at his tears, “Fuck you for making me get emotional.”
Dylan grins at him, “I’ve cried on you like a million times, this is just payback.”
“And secondly, does this mean you want us to be a thing?”
“Very much so.” Dylan assures him, “Like, the biggest thing. Like, Benn and Seguin levels of being a thing.”
Alex snorts, “I don’t even know if they’re actually a couple though.”
“They’re totally a couple.” Dylan agues, “Go on a date with me Kit?”
“Fuck,” Alex gives up on sitting on the opposite end of the couch, and throws himself at Dylan wrapping his arms around his neck, “How is that even a question, you know it’s a yes right?”
“Tomorrow?”
Alex looks up at him with a cheeky grin, “Tonight?”
Dylan shrugs, “Get off me then, and I’ll make some reservations.” He presses a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “Because I am going to wine and dine you like you’ve never been wined and dined before.”
He makes a few calls, first to his new teammates for location advice, and then to try and find a table – luckily it’s midweek, so it’s not too hard, then, an idea strikes him, and he wonders into Alex’s room.
“I need a favour,” he says with a grin, “Because I have ideas about how I want this date to work.”
“Which is?” Alex stares at him dubiously.
“Well…” Dylan starts, “I want to come and pick you up, like it’s a proper date, but that doesn’t really work, because we live together.”
“Ok, so what’s your plan.”
“I need you to take Ralphie for a walk or something,” Dylan explains “If you leave, then I won’t be here when you get back.” That’ll give him time to get ready out of Alex’s gaze, and then give Alex the same thing.
“You’re fucking weird Stromer.” Alex stands up, but as he walks past Dylan, he stretches up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, “But ok.”
He feels a bit weird, once he’s dressed, walking round the streets of Chicago on his own while he waits for Alex to get ready, but he kills time by buying Alex a bouquet of flowers, and a box of chocolates, which he holds out as Alex opens the door to his apartment.
“Really going all out here on the dating thing Dyl,” Alex laughs softly, putting them down inside and reaching out to take Dylan’s hand.
“You’re worth it Kit,” Dylan squeezes his hand softly, “You’re worth the fucking world."