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The first thing Joel sees when he wakes up is Morgan’s face smooshed up against a pillow. The sheets are bunched up around Morgan’s waist, and Joel takes the opportunity to let his eyes trail over Morgan’s skin.
Morgan starts to move, flipping onto his back. He settles a second later. Joel gets a better look at his face. His hair is a mess, it’s sticking up in different directions like it does in postgames when he runs his hand through it too many times. Joel can’t stop himself when he reaches out to comb a hand through Morgan’s hair.
At the feeling of Joel’s hand in his hair, Morgan starts to wake up. He yawns and slowly opens his eyes, slightly jumping back when he sees Joel beside him.
“Morning, Frosty,” Joel says, placing a kiss on Morgan’s shoulder.
“Fuck, I wasn’t planning on staying over,” Morgan frowns, sitting up.
Joel sits up as well, trying to move closer to Morgan as he continues talking. “It’s ok, baby, you’re always welcome to stay.”
“I gotta go,” Morgan says, more to himself than Joel. “I’ve got plans with Tippy.”
Joel watches as Morgan climbs out of bed and grabs his day old clothes off the floor. Once he starts to redress, Joel gets out of bed and walks over to him.
Joel wraps his arms around Morgan before he can put his shirt on, pulling him in close, “Since you gotta go now, we should do something later.”
Morgan nods, carefully unwrapping Joel’s arms from his waist. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get a late lunch, yeah?”
Joel hums in agreement. A frown makes its way onto Joel’s face as Morgan pulls his shirt on, ruining Joel’s view of Morgan’s chest. And the marks he left that Morgan’s definitely going to get chirped for in the locker room.
“You should stay a little longer,” Joel says. He wraps his arms back around Morgan. “We can eat breakfast together.”
“Oh yeah? Are you gonna cook it?”
“Well… no. I can make a fire bowl of cereal for you.”
Morgan laughs at that and Joel smiles widely. Joel pulls Morgan closer.
“I have to go, though,” Morgan says. “I can’t cancel on Owen, and I don’t like being late.”
Joel pouts, but lets go of Morgan, “Some morning I’ll get you to stay. I’ll learn to cook just for you, baby.”
Because his mom raised him right (and he wants as much time with Morgan as possible), Joel throws on a pair of sweatpants so he can Morgan to the front door. He pulls Morgan into a hug, making one final attempt to get Morgan to stay. The attempt is unsuccessful, but when Morgan laughs and places a soft kiss on Joel’s cheek, Joel still feels like he won.
Joel lets his eyes linger on Morgan walking to his car before closing the door. When he turns around to go back to his room, Tyson’s there smirking at him.
“Another late night visit?” Tyson asks in a teasing tone. “Because I know Morgan wasn’t here when I went to sleep.”
“It’s my house, I can have over whoever I want.”
Tyson raises his hands in defense, “I’m not saying you can’t. Just, I don’t know, be careful. Or whatever.”
“I’m older than you,” Joel scoffs.
“By only, like, two years.”
Joel rolls his eyes and walks to his room, shouting out a “mind your own business” on the way. All he gets in response is a laugh from Tyson.
-
Even before he walks into the rink, Joel is pumped for the game. Tyson matches his energy in the car and as they walk into the Wells Fargo Center. By the time he’s in his stall and getting ready, Joel is buzzing with excitement.
After he’s out of his suit and into his base layer, Joel slides into Morgan’s stall with him. Joel presses his side up against Morgan’s, his hand resting on Morgan’s knee.
“Frosty, baby, my place after the game?” He asks quietly.
Morgan gives a weak “yeah sure,” not even looking at Joel. His eyes are stuck on something else, mesmerized.
Joel’s eyes follow Morgan’s gaze, landing on Owen. Owen’s sitting in his stall, adjusting his socks and talking to Sean. His muscles are on display in his compression shirt. And everything clicks.
Joel tears his eyes away. He pats Morgan’s shoulder, letting his hand linger longer than it needs to, then walks back to his own stall without saying anything else.
He doesn’t say much else as he finishes getting ready. Tyson gives him a concerned look, Scott asks if he’s ok, Konecny pokes at him. He brushes them all off, mumbles nonsense about being locked in. He doesn’t think any of them buy it. He wouldn’t either.
-
It’s late at night after the game when Joel finally chooses to address it. He and Morgan stumble into his house after a few drinks with the team, knowing Tyson would choose to go to Cam’s. Joel watches Morgan shrug his suit jacket off as he grabs them each a water bottle.
The low lighting makes Morgan look irresistible, but Joel can’t stop thinking about how Morgan looked at Owen. Morgan had the same look in his eyes that Scott had back when Raffl was still on the team and they caught eyes across the locker room. Konecny had it too, when he would follow Nolan around yapping. It’s the same look he sees in Danny’s eyes when he sees old pictures of Danny and Claude, before Joel knew either of them. A time they both avoid talking about.
The look Wade has told Joel that he has when Morgan walks into a room.
The emotions hit Joel like a truck, and he can’t stop himself from bringing it up.
“Morgan…” Joel looks at Morgan with tear filled eyes. His breathing is unsteady, his hands shaking. “What are we doing?”
Morgan looks at him confused, “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Joel raises his voice, a look of regret immediately washing over his face after, and he continues at a normal volume, “I’m spending all this time, and energy, on trying to woo you—”
“‘Woo me’? You just pull me into your bed when you are feeling needy.”
“Bullshit. Anytime I ask you to stay, you find an excuse not to. When we hang out, all you can do is talk about Owen.”
The name comes out like it’s hard for Joel to say, like it’s something deadly. To some extent, it is. Morgan’s response has the power to crush Joel’s heart.
“Joel, Owen and I… we’re not…”
“But you want to be, don’t you?” Joel asks before Morgan can continue. “I see you staring at him. I know there’s something there, Morgan.”
“Years ago, at, uh, Worlds,” Morgan can’t look Joel in the eyes, instead looking down at the floor. “Nothing actually happened with us. And it was years ago.”
“You’re still in love with him.” Joel says plainly. “You’re still in love with him and that’s why I can’t even get an actual date with you.”
“Love is a strong word, Joel.”
They both go silent. Joel doesn’t need to hear more, anyway. Even if Morgan won’t directly admit he still has feelings for Owen, Joel knows that he does. He won’t use the word “love” to describe the feelings, but he has them. And Joel won’t be lead on anymore.
At some point, Morgan started crying. Joel doesn’t know when. He couldn’t tell anyone why, either. He breaks his own heart when he realizes that he doesn’t care to know why.
Joel runs a hand through his hair and finally breaks the silence, “Morgan, I think you should go.”
“What?” Morgan’s head snaps up to look at Joel, “Wait, wait, just give me another chance, please.”
Joel takes a step back, wiping his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears that started to roll down his face. “Morgan, don’t.”
“Don’t fight for this? You don’t want to fight for us?” Morgan steps closer to Joel, trying to reach out to him. Joel steps further away.
“I’m not going to fight for something that you don’t even really want.”
“I do want it though. I want to have feelings for you!” Morgan practically shouts. His eyes are red from crying, and he keeps trying to get closer to Joel.
“But you don’t, that’s the problem. You have feelings for Owen.” Joel starts walking towards the front door, “You need to leave Morgan.”
“Come on, Joel, you can’t be serious. You’re drunk.”
Joel holds his ground, opening the door, “Bye Morgan.”
“Ok, I see how it is.” Morgan walks towards the door, but stops to talk right when he gets to Joel, “See you when you’re begging for someone to spend the night with.”
Joel’s jaw clenches and he watches Morgan walk out the door. He doesn’t hesitate to close the door behind Morgan. When the door clicks shut, he falls back against it and lets the tears finally roll down his face.