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Seth gets lost in Port Columbus Airport. And on his way to the hotel. And on his way to the arena the next morning. It was a long eighteen or so hours. It still hasn’t really hit him, even as he’s pulling the dark blue jersey over his head, that he’s not a Pred any more.
‘Weird, huh?’ a soft voice asks, as they’re trickling onto the ice. Seth glances over his shoulder to see Brandon Saad, grinning at him wonkily. ‘The blue, I mean.’
‘I keep catching myself in the glass and thinking I’m on the wrong team,’ Seth admits.
‘Me too,’ Saad admits, in a half-whisper. ‘It’s hard to shake the red, sometimes.’
‘Or the gold,’ Seth says. ‘You seem to be coping pretty well, though.’
Saad shrugs, still smiling. ‘I’m doing okay. When’d you get into town?’
Seth pretends to check his watch. ‘About twelve hours ago. It’s been a weird day.’
‘They got you up at the Sheraton?’
Seth nods.
‘Friendly advice,’ Saad says, leaning in a little. ‘Find a place as soon as possible. I spent two weeks in a hotel room, and I finally realised I was waiting to go back home, you know?’ He pauses. ‘To Chicago, I mean.’
Seth doesn’t know what to say to that.
‘You’re in Columbus now,’ Saad says, and clicks the popper on his chin strap. ‘Buy an apartment, Jonesy.’
-
Seth fits in pretty well with the team. There are a lot of young guys, like him, and he hits it off with Murrs basically right away. Fligs reminds him just a little too much of Webs, at first, and he shies away, but Fligs is funny and genuine and not afraid to play the fool in practice. Seth likes him a lot, thinks he’s a good captain. He’s as sad as anyone when he goes down against the Canes.
Saader is-- interesting. He flies up and down the ice, and Seth is a victim of his speed more than once in drills, has played against him enough times when they were both in the West to know that Saader’s not just fast, he’s good, with a wicked shot. He’s glad they’re on the same team now, even if the whole team whoops and bangs their sticks on the ice when Seth trips over his own feet trying to transition to catch him before he roofs it.
Saader holds out his hand to help him up. Seth, brave for a second, lets Saader pull him halfway up before using his size and weight to haul him back down so they go tumbling to the ice together. Saader’s eyes go wide in shock just before he hits the deck, and Seth can’t help but laugh, even when Saader facewashes him in return.
‘Knew you couldn’t be that serious all the time, Saader!’ someone hollers from across the ice, and Saader takes his glove off to flip the guy off, before climbing back to his feet, retrieving his stick, and skating off, giving Seth a look over his shoulder as he joins the back of the line and a whistle signals the next drill starting.
Seth thinks about the look for longer than he should.
-
‘I hate house hunting,’ Seth complains, flopping down on Cam’s couch, kicking his feet up into Saader’s lap. They’re having an Americans-only pizza and beer night, instigated by Cam when he realised how many Americans were on the team last season, and Saader and Seth were folded in easily.
Saader pats his ankle, soothingly, and steals his freshly opened beer. Seth kicks him in the thigh.
‘Why don’t you just move in with Saader?’ Jack asks from his seat in the ‘adult’s armchair’, as he dubbed it. Seth isn’t sure why it counts as the adult’s chair, seeing as he and Dubi wrestled on the rug for it for a good twenty minutes before Jack claimed it, but. Adults do weird things, apparently.
‘Yeah, Saader’s got a spare room, the bed is killer,’ Cam chimes in. ‘Plus, living next door to Fligs means free home cooked dinner at least once a week.’
Seth has met Janelle Foligno. He’s pretty sure she’s a literal angel. Having a roommate wouldn’t be the worst thing. He lifts his head up to look down the couch at Saader, who’s looking at his beer, determined.
‘I dunno,’ Seth says. ‘I’m a pretty loud snorer, I wouldn’t want to keep Saader up, he needs way more beauty sleep than the rest of us.’
Saader snorts with laughter, and the weird moment passes as he throws a mozzarella stick at Seth’s face.
-
Seth catches Saader on the way into Nationwide a couple days later, bundled in a thick winter coat. He likes the city well enough, but he’s pretty sure Midwest weather might kill him.
‘Hey, about the other night,’ he starts. Saader looks up at him, frowning slightly. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Seth says. ‘The roommate thing. I’ll find a house, it’s cool if you don’t want to live with someone, you know?’
‘Oh,’ Saader says. ‘That.’
‘Yeah. That. Anyway. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to put a roof over my head, you know? I’m a big boy, I can look after myself.’
‘You can have my spare room if you want,’ Saader says, suddenly. ‘I kind of miss having a roommate, I had one in Chicago, but. He got traded. Then I got traded. So.’ He pauses. ‘Can you cook?’
Seth blinks, surprised. Then he shrugs. ‘Hockey player food, sure. I make a mean salmon and potatoes. You really want a roommate?’
Saader shrugs. ‘I like the company. Fligs is great, but he’s also a real adult. He has babies. I just have Marvin.’
Seth opens his mouth to ask who Marvin is, but he somehow ends up agreeing to move in, instead.
Saader grins. ‘Great! Want me to help move your stuff?’
‘I don’t really have much of it,’ Seth admits. ‘Just my suitcase and my skates.’
‘Then I’ll drive you to the hotel after the game tonight and we can grab your stuff, get you moved in ASAP.’
‘Sounds good,’ Seth says, weakly, and Saader claps him on the shoulder before heading into the rink. Seth isn’t quite sure what he’s gotten himself into.
-
Marvin lives in a giant glass tank and eats mice.
Seth grew up in Texas, he’s not afraid of snakes, he has a healthy respect for them.
Saader catches him eyeing the tank, and laughs. ‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘Marvin’s a baby, he’s tiny.’
‘Big tank for a small baby,’ Seth says. ‘What kind of snake is he?’
‘He’s a sunkissed cornsnake,’ Saader says. ‘You wanna say hi?’
‘Maybe later,’ Seth says, and puts his suitcase down in the living room. ‘Do I get a tour?’
Saader gives him the whistle-stop tour, ending in the spare bedroom, decorated in cream and pale gold. ‘Almost Preds gold,’ he says, thumbing at the lightswitch.
‘Almost,’ Seth agrees. ‘You hungry? I’ll cook.’
‘I-- don’t know what I have in,’ Saader admits. ‘But I could definitely eat.’
Saader’s kitchen is incredibly well stocked. If Seth wanted to make cookies, that is. He pokes at Saader’s stand mixer, and glances up at him.
‘I bake when I’m stressed,’ Saader admits.
‘Are you good?’ Seth asks, peering in the fridge.
‘Stick around long enough and you’ll find out,’ Saader says, with a sigh. ‘It’s been that kind of season.’
Seth hums in agreement. The Preds were nowhere near as underwater as the Jackets are, but losing sucks no matter where you are. ‘Your fridge is embarrassing, dude,’ he says. ‘I thought you were supposed to be the manchild or whatever. You know, have your shit together.’
‘I burn salad,’ Saader admits. ‘I eat a lot of pre-made meals from a nutrition company.’ He shrugs. ‘It’s not like I can’t afford it now.’
‘We’re going shopping,’ Seth says, and puts his shoes back on.
-
‘Stay forever,’ Saader says, mouth full of spaghetti.
Seth wrinkles his nose. ‘Only if you chew with your mouth closed,’ he says.
Saader swallows. ‘Seriously, who taught you to cook? This is amazing.’
‘My mom,’ Seth says. ‘She lived with me my rookie year, insisted I learn before she would move out.’
Saader laughs, softly. ‘My mom tried to move out to Chicago with me, but dad wouldn’t let her. Told her I had to learn to live by myself or I’d never grow up.’
‘How’d that go?’
‘I had a series of roommates from when I was in the AHL right up to the trade,’ Saader says, with a shrug. ‘I don’t like living by myself.’
‘No girlfriends?’
Saader laughs again. ‘No. No girlfriends.’
‘What, Mr Two Stanley Cups can’t get a date?’ Seth probably doesn’t know Saader well enough at this point to poke fun at him like that, but he figure they live together, they’ll know each other well enough soon enough.
‘Didn’t say that,’ Saader says, and finishes his beer. Seth frowns, and opens his mouth, but Saader just asks if he wants another beer.
Seth shakes his head, and get blindsided by a yawn. ‘I’m beat,’ he says. ‘I’m gonna head to bed.’
‘See you in the morning, roomie,’ Saader says, and starts clearing the plates, chasing Seth off when he tries to help.
Seth falls asleep basically as soon as his head hits the pillow. He forgot how awful hotel beds were.
-
Saader keeps looking at him. Seth thinks he’s imagining it the first couple of times, but now he’s pretty sure he isn’t.
Saader has a pretty sweet gym set up, so Seth spends most of his off mornings in there, working up a sweat. Saader comes in to join him eventually, when he’s woken up enough, but the first time, Seth catches him standing in the doorway, staring at where Seth’s shirt is starting to ride up.
‘Can I help you?’ Seth asks, eventually, and Saader glances up at him, guilty.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I don’t think I’m awake yet. You want some tea?’
‘Lemme finish this set,’ Seth says. ‘I’ll come find you.’
Saader nods, and vanishes, but Seth can’t shake the weird look in his eye. It’s kind of how Webs looks at Josi when he thinks Josi isn’t paying attention. Seth hadn’t wanted to touch that with a ten foot pole. He doesn’t really want to touch this, either, but. He suspects he might have to.
Saader’s making tea in the kitchen in thin grey sweats and a ratty old Saginaw shirt with a hole in the armpit. Seth gives him a once-over, because, well, he’s only human.
He wasn’t out in Nashville. He could have been, came real close to telling Webs a couple times, but. He didn’t. He feels weirdly like it would be easier in Columbus. He’s heard all kinds of stories about Hartsy’s not-so-secret boyfriend, who splits time between San Francisco and Scott’s apartment in downtown Columbus, and he knows what Joey and Cam got up to before the trade. As far as locker rooms go, Seth’s been in less accepting ones. Doesn’t mean he’s coming out any time soon, but he doesn’t think he’ll get traded if he does. He doesn’t want to be the next Drouin, shipped off for getting caught fooling around with teammates.
Saader glances up and around at him, and it’s Seth’s turn to get caught staring, apparently. He feels his cheeks heat a little.
‘Morning,’ he says, awkward.
Saader just gives him a smile and hands over a mug. There’s a plate of cut fruit on the table, and pancakes in a stack.
Seth sinks into a seat and steals a strawberry before Saader can stop him. The tea is green, and smells like pear. He takes a sip, and steals a handful of berries while Saader’s back is turned. It’s-- alarmingly domestic, actually. Seth decides to not think about it, and digs into the plate of pancakes Saader puts down in front of him.
-
They fall into a routine quickly. Saader makes breakfast, Seth makes lunch and dinner, there’s always a box of nutritionist approved cookies on top of the fridge. It works. Right up until they’re sitting on the couch one night, watching TV, and Saader falls asleep on him.
Seth stays still. He knows logically that an elephant charging through the room wouldn’t wake him up now, but he turns the volume down on the TV anyway, and looks down at Saader’s head resting on his thigh. His eyelashes are really long, fluttering faintly. Seth can’t seem to look away.
He texts Troubs, when he can finally tear himself away from the tiny movements in Saader’s sleeping face.
howd u know about mark
???
humour me, j
Troubs calls him. ‘What’s her name?’
Seth pauses. ‘Brandon,’ he says.
‘--Huh,’ Troubs says.
‘Shut up,’ Seth says. ‘What do I do?’
‘Tell him,’ Troubs says. ‘Don’t be a dumbass about it like I was.’
‘I don’t know how,’ Seth admits. ‘I think he’s accidentally become one of my best friends.’
‘Tell him,’ Troubs says. ‘Saader’s cool, he totally walked in on me and Mark in Sweden at World Juniors. He won’t tell, if he doesn’t feel the same way.’ Troubs pauses. ‘Uh. Which he totally will, I mean.’
‘You’re a terrible friend,’ Seth says.
‘Love you too, buddy,’ Troubs says, and hangs up.
Seth sighs at his phone, and tosses it onto the coffee table. It clatters quietly, and Saader doesn’t even stir.
‘My life is the worst,’ he mutters, and picks up the TV remote again, turning the volume up a couple notches just in time to hear who gets chopped and who wins ten grand.
-
What Seth needs is a game plan, he realises.
He thinks long and hard about what he needs to do, about the best way to tell him, about what he’ll do if Brandon kicks him out of the house. His plan is airtight. It’s perfect.
Brandon scores a hat trick against the Jets, and Seth’s plan goes to hell shortly after. Seth avoids looking at the Jets bench for the rest of the game, and piles into the locker room with the rest of the guys. His phone buzzes with a text.
tell himmmmmm followed by several heart emojis and then an eggplant and what Seth thinks is the raindrop emoji, but is clearly meant to be something else. He turns his phone off. Across the room, Cam has jumped onto Brandon’s back and appears to be trying to give him a noogie while Brandon flails.
Seth isn’t sure when Saader became Brandon, but that wasn’t part of his plan either.
Seth waits for Brandon in the parking lot. The media had been all over him for his first career hat trick, and Seth kind of wanted to get some fresh air that didn’t smell like the inside of his glove while he waited.
Brandon’s still beaming when he comes out, flushed with happiness. He hip checks Seth away from the car door, and Seth-- kisses him. There’s an awful, awful moment where Brandon makes a surprised sound and freezes, before he starts kissing back, and Seth sinks into it.
His plan goes entirely out the window. Brandon’s arm loops around his neck, and Seth closes his eyes and just-- goes with it.
New plan. Kiss Brandon senseless in the unlit parking lot of Nationwide arena. It’s going perfectly.