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Leon Draisaitl doesn't get drunk that often, could probably count on one hand the amount of times he crossed the line past being comfortably buzzed. He often blames it on being German whenever a teammate asks him why he still has full control over his faculties after a few hours out drinking.
The truth is that his ability to act sober has less to do with his heritage and more to do with the fact that he sits nursing the same beer all night, relies on his teammates’ lack of awareness to get away with it. He's pretty sure Connor has caught on, but he isn't the type of guy who would give Leon any trouble, so he isn't all too concerned he will bring it up. Really, he doubts anyone would give him too much shit for it if they knew, but he really doesn't want to make it into a thing . It's not as if he's completely sober; he still enjoys the occasional beer, but he knows that making his drinking habits known to all would invite attention he doesn't really want.
He just doesn't like the feeling of being out of control, it freaks him out, and is not anything he's ever strived to achieve. Most nights after a game, he's already riding high enough from the adrenaline of the game that he doesn't need any alcohol to help him celebrate a win or commiserate a loss.
Tonight isn't one of those nights.
Right now, Leon is drunk. As in, completely unaware of his surroundings, tripping on every other step, can't remember what happened earlier that night drunk.
He has a vague memory of saying goodbye to Nuge before leaving the bar, so he must've had some sense left in his mind, or else he would've found Connor and had to suffer through him being disappointed and pitying as he probably personally drove him home. All Nuge did was shoot him a quizzical look before sending him on his way. He did hesitate a second at whatever he must've seen on Leon's face, but he'd been putting away enough drinks himself that it wasn't as if he would've been able to provide much help even if he decided Leon needed it.
His brain still hasn't quite found the capability to realize where he is when he sees a familiar pair of shoes on the pavement in front of him, but he knows even before he follows the line of the body connected to them that he will find Connor staring down at him.
His first thought upon seeing the disappointment and confusion on Connor's face is that it serves him right, that it's only fair for Connor to feel even a fraction as bad as he does whenever he looks at Connor for too long, but then he feels a wave of guilt when he remembers that it isn't Connor's fault that he feels the way he does. In fact, if Connor knew what went through his head every time he saw him then he would probably feel awful and be apologetic, would likely see it as another problem he has to solve. It would be easier to imagine he would feel disgusted by his feelings, but Leon knows Connor well enough that he is sure that he would be nothing but earnestly kind when rejecting him. He hopes the situation never arises where he has to endure that heartbreak.
“Hey,” Leon says, trying and failing to control the inexplicable laughter that is threatening to bubble up out of him, “what are you doing here?”
“Well, Nuge mentioned you were heading out, and I figured you needed a ride. You know, since we drove here together.”
Oh, right. He can vaguely remember arriving with Connor before he ditched him in favor of doing shots with some of the younger players. He thinks he recalls Connor flirting with a pretty blonde bartender, which would explain his decision to leave his usual spot glued to Connor's hip.
“I ordered an Uber, you don't need to drive me,” Leon responds, but he has no memory of actually opening the app to call a ride. Come to think of it, he's pretty sure he only made it as far as the curb outside the bar before he gave up on the idea of going home altogether and flopped down on the pavement.
The look Connor sends him makes his thoughts on his plan clear enough that Leon can only grab onto his hand and lurch up from where he's sitting against the building when Connor reaches out for him and says, “Let's go, Leo.”
Leon is so focused on the feel of Connor's hand in his that he doesn't realize he's been pushed into the passenger seat of the car until Connor pulls out of his grasp to click the seat belt shut. Leon almost gives in to the impulse to reconnect their fingers when Connor starts to drive, but luckily he still has a modicum of sense and refrains himself from reaching out, despite every nerve in his body seeming poised to do so.
He can feel his carefree mood slipping away as Connor drives closer to his house, and by the time the car comes to a stop in his driveway all he wants is to curl into a ball under his comforter and probably shed a few tears before drifting off. He's usually not a big crier, but this night has already strayed from his normal routine enough that he feels untethered in a way that builds a pressure behind his eyes which is getting harder to ignore by the second.
“Okay, bye,” Leon says as he opens the door to let himself out. Usually he would be more polite and thank Connor for the ride, but right now every word feels like a mountain he has to climb over before he can force it to push past his lips.
He's halfway up his steps before he realizes his footsteps aren't the only ones sounding in the quiet of the night. He stops abruptly, causing Connor to stumble into him and grab his waist to stay upright in a touch that sends a thrill through every cell in Leon's body that doesn't fade until after Connor steadies them both and steps back.
“Come on, Leo,” Connor says, gesturing to the door.
Leon holds back his questioning of Connor's presence until he's managed to open the door and let them both into the foyer. When he finally manages to open his mouth, all that comes out is, “What?” and he isn't sure if he means what are you doing here or what do you want from me or what do I need to do to deserve you , so it's probably good that his mouth stopped working after that first word.
Connor just raises his eyebrows, and apparently he somewhat understands what Leon was trying to ask, because he says, “You really thought I was just gonna ditch you? Leo, you could hardly find your way to your front door.”
Leon wants to protest, say that he could find his way if he wanted to, but doesn't see why he should. A big part of him wishes he was still slumped against the wall outside the bar, so far removed from his normal self that his problems might as well exist in another universe. Now that he's home, he has to face reality and be alone in his big house, with only his worries to keep him company.
Connor is here now, so he isn't alone, and everything is alright for once, but he'll leave soon enough, and then everything will go back to being the same as it always is. It's almost not even worth getting to experience Connor's presence when he can only worry about how it will be like falling off a cliff once he doesn't have it anymore. Almost.
In the end, he keeps his mouth shut, not sure he could articulate how he feels right now even if he weren't struggling so much to say anything at all. Connor eventually sighs at his silence and goes to the kitchen to fill a bottle with water.
“Come on,” Connor says, beckoning Leon to the hallway that leads to his bedroom, and Leon flinches as he realizes he's been basically paralyzed by the front door of his house for a full minute now, as if he's waiting for someone to invite him into his own home. It seems Connor took it upon himself to do so, so Leon follows him into his bedroom, barely making it to his bed before he runs out of energy and flops down on the mattress.
“Leo,” Connor says, voice laced with dismay, “You need to get up, your clothes are covered in beer.”
All Leon can do is groan and grab onto his pillow, wishing Connor would leave him alone before the tears that have been pushing against his eyelids finally make their way onto his cheek. Of course, Connor is undeterred, and this only makes him grab Leon's legs to unravel the ball he's curled himself into and begin to pry at his clothing.
Leon is stoically silent as Connor removes his shoes and unbuttons his jacket to slip it off his shoulders, but he can't help the whimper that escapes him when Connor begins to unbuckle his jeans, hands moving deftly but gentle enough to make Leon feel lightheaded as he pushes them past his hips, running his fingers softly down Leon's legs until the pants are off.
“Hey,” Connor prompts, voice suddenly devoid of any of the annoyance from earlier, “What's wrong?” Leon realizes at once that he is shaking, shoulders convulsing as he sobs quietly. The tears have finally escaped, and are running quickly down his cheeks to fall onto the pillow below his head. He can only gasp when Connor reaches out and, ever so gently, touches his hands to the sides of Leon's face, moving his thumbs along his cheeks to stop the tracks of tears. His face fills Leon's view as he studies him, and Leon has to close his eyes to avoid seeing the sympathy written over Connor's face.
“Hey,” Connor says after a minute, once the tears have slowed down to a mere trickle, “You're alright, come here.” He leans down to embrace Leon, but the angle is awkward and all he really succeeds in doing is bracketing his arms around Leon's shoulders. It's an uncomfortable position by all objective measures, and yet Leon feels safe as he lays there below Connor, something finally settling in him that had been buzzing frantically around in his brain for years.
It's like whatever had been holding his mouth shut has finally released its grip, and Leon starts talking, not even sure what he is going to say until the words have already passed his lips. “I can't take it, Connor. It's too much, and it's every day .”
“I know,” Connor says, and Leon snorts because no, he really doesn't . Connor can sympathize all he wants, but at the end of the day he'll end up marrying a beautiful girl and living some white-picket-fence life, and Leon will probably continue to be in love with him, even after life puts distance between them and Leon becomes a distant memory in Connor's mind. It's his worst nightmare, and it seems more likely to become reality every day that passes without him making progress on getting over Connor.
“You should've gone home with the pretty bartender,” Leon says, because at this point he's used to saying the opposite of what he wants.
Connor looks at him as if he's lost his mind, which maybe he has. “Huh?”
“The girl at the bar, who you were flirting with. You should have taken her home, to settle down with so you don't have to be lonely too. But you're stuck here with your pathetic teammate, who can't control his emotions enough to have fun on a night out without feeling like shit afterwards. I'll never be able to be happy like that, but I don't want to ruin your life too.”
“Leo,” Connor says, voice alarmed. “What are you talking about? I don't even know who you're talking about. What do you mean you'll never be able to be happy ? Are you not?”
“Of course I'm not!” Leon bursts out, then rolls away from Connor's searching gaze in his embarrassment at his outburst. Still, it seems he can't just shut up, “I don't have anybody. I can't, because I don't want a wife.”
Connor, Leon quickly realizes, does not look even the slightest bit surprised by what Leon had thought would be a huge revelation. He feels sick to his stomach as he whispers, “You knew?”
Connor at least does him the courtesy of looking apologetic when he says, “Yeah, Leo, I knew.”
Leon's fear hardens into anger, and he fights past the dizziness to push himself up to try to stand. “Get out.”
“Leon—” Connor starts, reaching to grab Leon as he stumbles out of bed. He makes sure Leon is stable before continuing, “Lie down, Leo. We can talk about this tomorrow morning, right now you have to sleep.”
Connor leaves the room, but not before reminding Leon to drink the water he left on his nightstand.
+
When Leon wakes up the next morning, he isn't given the luxury of forgetting the events of the night before, doesn't even get a brief minute of reprieve before he has to face the consequences of his irresponsibility.
Suddenly, and with intense clarity, he can fill all the gaps that were previously filled by the alcohol running through his system. He rolls his eyes at himself, pissed that he couldn't control his emotions enough to withstand the disappointment that caused all this.
He'd love to blame his lack of control on excitement over the win against the Flames last night; he had two goals and an assist, it wouldn't be unreasonable for him to celebrate. Still, he knows the real reason he was so out of control is much less valid. He isn't in the habit of lying to himself, so he must face the reality that his urge to drink stemmed from the blank, empty feeling that he felt when he realized even performing well in the game couldn't make up for the way he feels every day.
This is why he doesn't drink, he remembers. It's never worth it when he has to come back to reality and everything hurts more after being temporarily numbed. Today, though, he screwed things up so bad that the consequences of his drinking go beyond a bad hangover and some negative emotions. No, he had to go out and blab to Connor about a secret he's worked hard for years to keep to himself. Although, evidently it makes no difference since apparently Connor knew all along.
He powers through the sharp pain pressing into his temples and stands up. There's a shuffling sound coming from the direction of his kitchen and he knows it's Connor, would recognize the noise of Connor fiddling with the coffee maker even if he wasn't already expecting his presence.
Maybe he can pretend nothing is wrong and Connor will be kind enough to let this go, he thinks as he walks into the kitchen and says, “Morning.”
Connor turns away from the counter to smile and mumble, “morning,” and it's not any different than any other day when they crash at each other's houses, but Leon can't relax like he usually does in Connor's presence; he's too aware of the space between them, worrying about whatever his face must look like. If Connor always knew his secret, then what else might he know? How can Leon stand before him when he feels like Connor can read him like a book?
Connor sighs and turns back to the eggs he's cooking, and Leon feels the tension in his shoulders relax slowly when the eye contact breaks. He doesn't have long to feel calm, though, because as soon as Connor slides a plate of eggs under Leon's nose, he says, “So, about last night.”
Leon groans, seriously considering whether Connor might just let him crawl back into his bed and stay there forever. “I really don't want to talk about it,” he mumbles as he chews into a bite of eggs, not caring whether it's rude to talk with his mouth full.
“We need to talk about it,” Connor says, captain voice out in full-force. “You got drunker than I've ever seen you, and then cried as soon as I tried to ask you what's wrong. I'm just concerned.”
“Well, you shouldn't be. It's not your problem,” Leon says, defensive in his embarrassment.
“You're my best friend, Leo. If it's bothering you so much then of course it's my problem.” Connor looks hurt as he says it, as if he can't believe Leon would think he might not care.
It's not as if Leon had expected Connor to not care, especially with how Connor has showed time and time again how much thought he gives to making everyone on the team feel at home in Edmonton, ensuring the rookies are settling in, and that anyone going through anything knows he will lend a listening ear for all of their problems. It's not as if Leon hadn't known that courtesy extended to him, but he wishes he wasn't acting as another burden on Connor's generosity when he already has so much on his plate. He likes to think of him and Connor as equals, even though Connor is obviously better at hockey than him—that is a given for anyone trying to measure up against Connor's skills on the ice. Their friendship has never been impacted by Connor's role as captain, and in all the years they've been on the team together they've grown familiar enough that Connor no longer holds him at an arm's length as he does with most of the team. Leon doesn't want his meltdown last night to jeopardize that.
Really, all Leon wants is to move on, but he can't help but ask, “How did you know?”
When Connor just looks at him blankly he clarifies, “That I'm, uh, not into women, I mean.” The words feel foreign on Leon's tongue as he tries to talk around the word that he's never spoken aloud despite knowing he was gay since his teenage years.
“Oh, Leo,” Connor says, tilting his head and at least trying to look sympathetic before continuing, “it's pretty clear when you know what you're looking for.”
Leon feels the strength disappear from every muscle in his body, shock and disappointment making him weak as he reevaluates the past decade of his life. He'd been trying so hard to keep people from suspecting anything, had made himself miserable making sure he never slipped up and gave himself away in a moment of weakness. All for nothing, apparently.
“Does everyone know?” Leon asks weakly.
The sympathy on Connor's face switches to shock in a flash. “No, of course not. I wouldn't tell anybody.”
“But you said it's obvious,” Leon says, voice going embarrassingly high in his panic.
“As I said earlier,” Connor says, drawing in a breath before continuing, “I know what I'm looking for.”
The words don't mean much, and Leon is ready to write it off as Connor's observant nature, but then he sees the way Connor is holding himself still, not meeting Leon's eyes as if—
“Oh,” Leon says dumbly, and he knows he should say more yet he's struggling to find the words.
Connor finally meets his eyes and brings his chin down in a slight nod, confirming everything Leon had never thought possible.
Not only is there apparently another player who is going through the same thing as him, but it's a player on the same team as him, the best player in the league at that. All of that pales in comparison to the fact that it's Connor . Connor who Leon has considered his best friend for years, Connor who is the most reliable person Leon knows.
Connor, who Leon fell in love with years ago, whose presence forces Leon to constantly remind himself it was hopeless to fall for a straight teammate. Apparently not so straight after all, and yet just as hopeless nevertheless.
Leon thinks of all the times he'd been jealous of the girls who had flirted with Connor, realizes with a jolt that he's never seen Connor follow through on taking a girl home. He'd always assumed Connor just enjoyed his privacy, preferred to keep it quiet when he chose to sleep with one of the many girls who chased after him, but now realizes that there must have been nothing to keep quiet about after all.
“Yeah,” Connor says after the silence drags on for a minute. “So, you're not alone, okay?”
“Wait,” Leon says, “are there more guys in the league who, um—” Leon cuts himself off, still not wanting to say the word aloud and bring it into reality.
Luckily, Connor seems to understand his internal struggle and takes pity on Leon. “Yeah, just a handful, but yes. One of my friends from juniors, a few guys throughout the league. It's not a big group, but I can ask if I can give them your number if you want.”
“Um,” Leon starts, not knowing how to politely decline before settling on simply saying, “no.”
It's not as if he doesn't want the support, but making his sexuality known to more people, especially people he only knows tangentially through the league, feels risky. He trusts Connor more than anyone, and yet having him know about it is almost too much for him to stand, he can't imagine facing off against a rival team and knowing a random player he meets on the ice could have this knowledge about him, even if they were in the same boat with just as much to lose.
“That's okay,” Connor says, and he sounds like he really means it. “Well, you know you can talk to me about it if you need to get anything off your chest, right?”
“I know, you too,” Leon says, hoping this will be the end of the conversation, at least for now.
Connor finally takes mercy on him and changes the subject to discuss the game last night, and Leon is grateful to finally relax into the familiar conversation. It's a relief to find how normal it feels to be around Connor now; it shouldn't be, since apparently Connor knew all along, but Leon was still worried he would fail to act natural while this hangs over his head.
+
As the days pass, Leon grows more confident in his trust that Connor hasn't realized that Leon's interest in men has a certain focus on him . He can't think of a way to bring it up without revealing anything, though, and so he ends up being slightly panicky whenever Connor approaches him with any sort of expression on his face that is even remotely serious. Him acting jittery around the captain of his team whenever they are trying to coordinate on the ice is not exactly conducive to him playing his best hockey, though, so it's probably a good thing when Connor basically confirms his obliviousness a week later.
What is not a good thing is the way that he confirms it, which is by knocking on Leon's door on a night off and declaring, “We are going to get you laid.”
Leon just looks at him like he has two heads and pushes the door to shut it in Connor's face.
Connor, however, knows him well enough that he is prepared for it, and he shoves his foot in the way before the door can latch shut, cursing when it hits his toe. Leon could probably beat him in a battle of strength, but he's learned that Connor is an unstoppable force and doesn't want to test the strength of his door hinges, so he allows Connor to invade his house, though not without grumbling enough to make his feelings clear.
“Take your shoes off,” Leon says, knowing that Connor is aware he only upholds that house rule when he isn't fond of his visitors. Connor complies without saying anything, but he does give a pointed look at the shoes on Leon's feet as he tosses his sneakers in the general direction of the shoe mat.
“As I said, we are going to get you laid.” Connor flops down on the couch as he says it, kicking his feet up and grabbing Leon's laptop off the armrest.
“Oh, please Connor,” Leon says, glaring daggers into the back of Connor's head, “Come on in, make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?”
“Ooh, do you have any juice?” Connor asks, snickering to himself as if ignoring Leon's sarcasm is hilarious.
Leon feels bad to waste his eggs, but it's worth it when he returns to the living room and presents the glass to Connor, taking a sip of his identical glass of actual orange juice to hide his grin.
“I'm not drinking this,” Connor says, looking into the glass with a frown.
“Well, it looks like that's the first smart idea you've had all day,” Leon replies, a little disappointed he won't get to see Connor's face when he gets a mouth full of raw egg.
He squawks as Connor reaches over and grabs the other glass out of his hand, taking a sip of the orange juice before pressing the glass back into Leon's hand with a shit-eating grin. Instead of saying thanks , like a normal person would, he says, “You changed your computer password.”
Leon pretends he can't hear Connor and focuses back on the show he was watching before his afternoon was rudely interrupted. Sometimes, he wonders why he has fallen for such an asshole, and why moments like this don't help him get over his hopeless crush (bizarrely, they seem to only deepen it). Then Connor presses his toes under Leon's leg, sending him a much more genuine smile and saying, “I ordered food from that place you like, it'll be here in twenty,” and suddenly falling for this asshole makes a lot more sense.
It takes a good five minutes before Leon realizes Connor is still tapping away at his computer. “Dude, stop trying to get in, you're gonna run out of attempts and then I won't have a computer until the timer resets.”
“What?” Connor murmurs, distracted, “oh. No, I got in on the second try. Your password is the same as your last one, but you added another exclamation mark to the end. Not hard to guess.” Connor pauses, before saying, “also, you have this sticky note on the keyboard where you wrote it down. The PR department would have your head if they saw this shit.”
Apparently cybersecurity is, like, a big deal , according to Nancy from PR. She held a teamwide mandatory meeting on secure passwords, proper storage of said passwords, and a whole bunch of other mumbo jumbo pertaining to proper ways to avoid security threats on social media. Most of it went right over Leon's head, but he does remember now that there was a slide somewhere in the presentation that said keeping passwords on sticky notes was a big NO when it comes to not getting hacked. Still, “It wouldn't be a problem if you didn't come here to bother me.”
“Gotta be prepared for anything these days, Leon. A cybersecurity threat can come from anywhere,” Connor intones, and Leon would be willing to bet he's directly quoting Nancy right now.
He rolls his eyes at Connor's antics, “What are you doing anyway? And what if I was doing something on there I didn't want you to see?” Leon asks, although truthfully he doesn't care. It's not like there's anything for him to hide at this point. And if sometimes he likes to watch Connor's highlights in a less-than-professional way, then it wouldn't matter since he would never do that without immediately clearing his search history before he even has the chance to feel guilty about what he'd just done.
“Oh, God forbid I catch a glimpse of whatever vanilla porn you watch,” Connor says, not even drawing his eyes away from whatever he's doing on the screen.
“Hey,” Leon protests, “It wouldn't be vanilla.”
“Oh,” Connor says, raising his eyebrows and—are his cheeks flushing? No, Leon thinks, that's just a trick of the light. “Well I'll be sure to put that detail on here, then.”
“What,” Leon says, flat, deciding it's time for him to figure out exactly what Connor is doing. He looks at the screen, then double checks the website name in the search bar to confirm that it's what he thinks it is. “What the hell, Connor. Why are you on a dating website on my computer.”
“Because,” Connor says, unfazed. “It's your dating profile.”
“Gimme that,” Leon says, leaning over to grab the computer out from where Connor has curled his body defensively around it.
“Leo, stop,” Connor says, as if Leon is the one in the wrong here. “Also, why don't you have any photos of yourself on your computer? It's all just screenshots of emails and our game schedule.”
“Who the hell keeps nudes of themselves on their laptop?”
“Not nudes, just nice photos that you can use when you want to leave a good impression,” Connor says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
“If I need a decent photo of myself I can find one off the internet,” Leon says.
“Well, I don't think any photos of you on the internet will be giving the kind of impression you're going for here. Although…” Connor trails off, fingers tapping on the laptop as he pulls up the Google search bar. He gets as far as typing Leo Drisatel shirtles before Leon finally manages to rip the laptop out of his hands.
“How do you not know how to spell my name, you dick,” Leon says, working on closing all of the ten billion windows that Connor has managed to open.
“I was in a rush, someone was trying to steal my keyboard as I was typing.” He then proceeds to spell out Draisaitl , and Leon thanks every higher power that the food arrives right as Connor shouts out, “L,” as if he's a competing state champion in a spelling bee.
Leon is sure to take the laptop with him as he answers the door. He forgets to remove the scowl from his face until the teenager who is doing the delivery sends him a frightened look. It doesn't occur to him until he's sat back down next to Connor that the kid was wearing an Oilers hat.
“Think I just lost us a fan on account of acting like a creep,” Leon says, digging into the pad thai that Connor knew to order for him.
“Maybe he was into it,” Connor says, grinning with his mouth full of noodles and bumping his shoulder against Leon's, staying slumped against his side as they finish their food.
Connor wastes no time after they're done eating, though, grabbing the laptop out from where Leon had thought was a secure hiding spot beneath his couch cushion.
“It's a lucky thing it saves automatically, or else I'd have to start over,” Connor says, as if he expects Leon to agree with him.
“Connor, I really don't want to sign up for the app, okay?” Leon says, feeling like he's begging.
“Okay,” Connor says, undeterred by the clear dismissal. “Then we can go out in person if that's more what you're looking for?”
“Oh yeah, Connor Mcdavid, let's walk into a bar in Edmonton and see what happens as soon as either one of us even tries to look at a guy,” Leon says, and he almost feels bad when it wipes the smile off of Connor's face, but it had to be said.
“I just want you to be happy,” Connor says, and he sounds so disappointed, as if Leon's lack of a love life is something Connor is personally responsible for.
Leon isn't willing to put himself out there and pick up a guy, for many reasons , but Connor had been so excited that he feels like an asshole for not playing along. He has to find some sort of compromise, so he asks, “Why aren't we setting you up?” despite the fact that imagining playing an active role in helping Connor find a partner makes him feel as if he's betraying himself.
It's like Connor deflates when he hears the suggestion, and all that he has to say in response is, “That's okay.”
Leon stares at him, baffled by his reaction. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Just don't worry about it,” Connor says, and—there's no way he actually just said that, after pestering Leon for the past hour.
“No,” Leon says, not sure why he's pushing it when the selfish part of him is begging to let it be. “You wouldn't just not worry about it in my case. If you want me to leave this alone, then you're going to need to tell me why.”
Connor looks stricken, almost fearful in a way that Leon has never really seen him look before. Usually, he's the kind of person who might be worried or deeply concerned, but fearful? Up until this point, Leon would have used the word fear less to describe Connor, though certainly not to his face. Whatever Connor's reason is for not wanting to find a hookup is clearly pretty serious if it elicits this reaction. Leon is about to let him off the hook when Connor finally says, almost too quiet to make out the words, “I don't want to have some random hookup with a guy I've never even met before.”
Leon squints at him, confused. “That's it? It's no big deal to want something more serious, we can find you a date and you can get to know him first if that's what you—”
“No,” Connor cuts in, like the mere thought of it bothers him enough to make him this frantic. “There's only one person I want right now.”
“Oh, are they—” Leon starts, a million different emotions flowing through him in the space of a second. He isn't sure what to ask, is certain that he does not want to hear the answer to whatever question he could ask.
“I really don't want to talk about them,” Connor interrupts, and Leon is glad for the interjection because he really doesn't think he can sit here and listen to Connor talk about whoever has managed to capture his heart.
Still, Leon is trying to be a supportive friend here, so he says, “Well, do you want to get it off your chest? You don't have to tell me who it is, if that's the problem, but I'm here for you if you need to talk through it.”
“Not really,” Connor says, and his tone says absolutely one thousand percent no. “They're a close friend, and the whole situation is a mess, but I've been hung up on them for years and I'm not trying to move on right now. It's dumb.”
“Yeah, it is stupid to fall for a friend,” Leon says, before realizing how insensitive it sounds without Connor knowing that Leon has firsthand experience. Connor slumps even further into the couch, looking absolutely destitute, and Leon rushes to clarify, “I mean, it isn't stupid, like you're not stupid for what you feel. I mean that the situation is stupid, and it's stupid that you have to go through that.” God, maybe I'm stupid, Leon thinks as he says that stupid word for the fifth time. Then he sees that Connor doesn't look comforted at all by his words and decides that he is definitely stupid.
He wants to say something to fix this, but he can't think of anything that won't just dig him deeper into the hole he's dug for himself.
“Yeah,” Connor says, and oh, God his voice sounds uneven, like he's on the verge of crying . “Listen, I have to go,” he says, standing up and shoving his shoes on, not even bothering with the laces before he's walking out the door.
Leon mumbles a goodbye, feeling like the whole situation just spiraled away from him before he could even realize what was happening.
+
So, Connor has definitely been avoiding Leon, which is probably fair. It may not have been purposeful, but Leon had definitely acted like an asshole. He doesn't know how to explain himself, but he knows he needs to say something when a week has gone by and they haven't hung out. Usually, they're in each other's space whenever the opportunity presents itself, so a week without Connor bullying his way into his house makes his absence glaringly obvious.
Of course, it's not as if the fact that he's spending all of his newfound free time torturing himself by wondering who was lucky enough to be the object of Connor's affection helps the situation at all.
He needs to be the one to make the first move if he ever wants them to get back to normal, so he goes out and waits by Connor's car after morning practice. They have a game against the Capitals tonight, but they don't need to be back at the arena for a good six hours, so it should be plenty of time for Leon to grovel for forgiveness. If things don't go over well, then at least he'll have the game to distract him and give him a brief reprieve from the mess that is his social life.
As Connor approaches, he doesn't look angry to see Leon, which is an improvement from the nightmare situations that have been floating through Leon's head, but he doesn't exactly look excited either as he asks, “What's up?”
“Um,” Leon says, fighting an internal struggle to keep his tone and body language casual instead of grabbing Connor in a hug like part of him wishes to do. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch?”
Connor actually looks surprised for a second, as if he and Leon haven't gotten lunch together nearly every day after morning practice for most of the time they've known each other, with the past week being an exception. “Uh, I'd like that,” Connor says, and Leon feels like his stomach is performing gymnastics when he hears the words. “But no, sorry. I'm actually meeting up with Dylan for lunch.”
Whatever was doing cartwheels in Leon's torso abruptly dies. “Oh, okay. Uh, have fun.”
Then, there's really nothing left to say, so Leon gives a pathetic little wave and walks off to his own car, trying not to feel too much like a dog with its tail between its legs.
He makes it all the way back to his house before he actually registers what Connor had said past the no.
Dylan Strome, Connor's best friend from juniors, that's who Connor is having lunch with. The same Dylan Strome that Connor had spent years worrying over after they had fallen out of touch. Connor had told Leon once, during his sophomore year, that he hated the way that the media made him out to be this prodigal player, how it made it hard for him to keep in touch with his old friends when Connor was constantly held on a pedestal a step above everyone else. Leon had kept his mouth shut, instead of saying what he wanted to say and arguing that the media was right to think Connor's skills were superior, that he deserves the praise and anyone who doesn't agree shouldn't get to be in Connor's life anyways. When Leon overheard parts of a tense phone conversation between Connor and Dylan after Dylan got sent down again, it became clear who the source of Connor's frustration was.
Even then, back before Leon's little crush had solidified into something far more serious, he had felt this sharp pang of jealousy over how much Connor cared for Dylan.
Now, as Leon remembers Connor mentioning he had gay friends from juniors, it's like the last puzzle piece has finally fallen into place and Leon has figured out exactly who Connor was talking about last week when he talked about his unrequited love. He gives himself a moment to bask in the sudden, intense jealousy that has settled over every inch of his body. He feels blind with it, like he could harness this feeling to achieve something.
But there's nothing to achieve here. Connor is in love with Dylan, apparently has been since he was a teenager. As Leon thinks back over what exactly Connor said, he realizes that the love probably isn't unrequited as he assumed it was, which makes more sense than anything. Leon can't imagine anyone having a chance with Connor and not taking it.
He also can't imagine anyone taking it for granted, like Dylan had. His jealousy settles in his gut and hardens into rage as he remembers the look on Connor's face as he talked about Dylan last week, where it was clear that whoever he had fallen for had caused him a great deal of turmoil.
By the time he arrives at the arena for the game, he's had hours to let the anger subside, but he finds that he's still pissed at Dylan.
It doesn't help that he runs into Connor as they're both walking in from the parking lot and, stupidly, asks, “Did you have a good time at lunch?”
Connor looks shocked by the question, but manages to nod and say, “Yeah, it's always good to spend time with Dylan. He was my best friend back in juniors and it's nice that we're finally back to being close with each other.”
Leon must say something in response, but he can't remember what. The anger he had been feeling for the past few hours is about to boil over, and he's glad when he can step out onto the ice and channel it into playing the game.
Leon is on fire that night, there's no other way to describe it. He's well on his way to a hat trick, having two goals by the end of the first period, and all he wants is to rub it in Dylan's face. He finds himself glaring at Dylan whenever he has a chance, and he doesn't realize his staring has been noticed until Dylan meets his gaze during a stop in play.
“What the hell's your problem?” Dylan demands, skating up to Leon and getting up in his face as if he's about to start something. “Couldn't stop at just being a dick to Connor so you decided to be an asshole to his friends too?”
“You're the fucking asshole,” Leon spits out, glaring at Dylan. “If Connor didn't like you so much I'd drop gloves right now. You don't deserve him, and I wish he'd realize that you're just a waste of his time,” Leon shouts, not really caring that the referees are approaching them.
Dylan's face cycles through a confusing mix of emotions, from rage to confusion to—is he laughing? —and Leon feels his own anger struggle to fight against the confusion. “You fucking idiot,” Dylan says, laughing.
And then he skates off, turning to glide backwards as he shouts, “You're both fucking idiots.” No further explanation for this behavior is offered, and there isn't any time for Leon to chase him down and demand one before the game continues.
Fucking asshole.
There's not much Leon can do about it. He and Dylan aren't on the ice at the same time again for the rest of the game, and Leon isn't angry enough to start a fight at this point anyways. He nets his third goal late in the third, and he can hardly hear the roar of the applause erupting throughout the arena over the sound of buzzing in his ears.
He doesn't know what that was, when Dylan laughed in his face and called him an idiot. Him and someone else, presumably Connor. Leon really doesn't know what to do with that.
They end up winning 5-2, and a bunch of guys are going out, but the emotions of the past twelve hours have caught up with Leon and he can't imagine doing much more than going straight to bed at this point. He wants to talk to Connor, ask what his boyfriend's problem is, but he doesn't think he is currently in the right frame of mind to have that discussion without being a major dick, so he just heads home and is asleep within five minutes of closing the front door behind him.
+
At some point not long after he falls asleep, Leon comes to consciousness and realizes that the noise he is hearing is not the pounding in his head, but the sound of someone knocking on his door. He doesn't realize it is his bedroom door and not his front door until he takes a step out into the blinding light of his hallway and almost walks right into Connor.
“Leo,” Connor says, voice loud in the silence of the night, “you and I need to talk.”
It takes a moment for Leon to wake up enough to figure out how to respond to that, but when he does open his mouth the words all come rushing out at once, “I'm sorry, Connor. I acted like a dick last week, but that wasn't my intention then. And I'm sorry for how I acted around Dylan, I know how you feel about him, and I'll be okay with it. I just need some time to get over it and—”
“So it's true, then?” Connor interrupts, and he doesn't look angry, like Leon was expecting him to. Leon can't really place the expression on Connor's face, but it's definitely not anger.
“Huh?” Leon asks, not sure what Connor wants him to say.
“Dylan told me that you thought that he and I were together, that you were jealous of him.” Connor takes a steadying breath, then asks, “Is it true?”
Connor's face has gone carefully blank, and Leon is scared out of his mind when he slowly nods his head.
Connor's face blooms , eyes lighting up and a smile stretching across his cheeks as he lets out this big, happy laugh that probably qualifies as a giggle. Leon lets out a noise of confusion, but is cut off by Connor stepping forward, reaching up to grab his chin, and—
Kissing him? Leon is so shocked that he just stands frozen as Connor's lips press into his, until Connor pulls back a few seconds later.
The tentative look on his face, as if Connor isn't sure that he was allowed to do that, kicks Leon into motion as he grabs Connor's shoulders before he can retreat and pulls him back into the kiss.
This time, it's all Leon could have ever dreamed of. Even if it were an awful kiss, it would have been perfect simply on account of the fact that it's Connor, but even without the obvious bias it is the best kiss he's ever had by a long shot.
It's like they just fit together, from head to toe, as they stand there pressing sweet kisses into each other's lips.
It goes on for what feels like hours, and Leon would take an eternity of this. Then Connor pulls away, just far enough to meet Leon's eyes with a laugh, “I can't believe you thought I was in love with Dylan.”
It takes Leon a dazed moment before he can even remember what it is Connor is talking about. Then, his reality shifts and he blurts out, “You were in love with me? ”
Connor doesn't even give him a moment to panic that he might be wrong before he leans forward and whispers against Leon's lips, “I am in love with you.”
The words energize Leon in a way that he's never felt before, like his entire body is vibrating with this excitement. All he can do is pull Connor back to him, pressing more heated kisses to his lips as he walks them back towards the bed.
The sight of Connor lying beneath him, eyes trusting and so, so happy, is far and away the best thing Leon has ever seen. He hopes it's something he gets to see for the rest of his life.
+
Afterwards, when Connor lays back down in Leon's arms after cleaning up, he's laughing to himself. His giggling is at odds with the words that come out of his mouth, “I was devastated, you know?”
Leon knows Connor can feel the way his body whole goes stiff around him at the words, and he lets out a questioning noise that probably sounds more offended than anything.
“When you rejected me,” Connor says
“What?” Leon asks, alarmed. “I did not.”
“Yes you did,” Connor insists, but he's giggling so Leon knows he's not actually mad. “You said it was stupid to fall in love with a friend, then you proceeded to call me stupid about seventeen times.”
“I meant—”
“I know that now ,” Connor interjects, laughing as he settles back into Leon's arms.
“Good,” Leon says, pulling Connor tighter against him, “and don't you forget it.”
Leon can feel Connor's smile pressing against his chest, as they settle into silence. Leon is on the brink of falling asleep when he hears Connor murmur, “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Leon whispers back, and the way that he can feel Connor's smile grow wider lets him know that things are going to be okay, now that he has this.