Work Text:
Nail’s jealous. Obviously.
“I just don’t understand what’s so fantastic about him,” he’s saying as Alex tries to balance the phone between his ear and shoulder. He’s trying to button his jeans after his post-practice shower. “So he smiles. I smile.”
“Difference is, you don’t want to blow me,” Alex reminds him, and god, he’s thankful that they’re having this conversation in Russian, and that no one who’s still lingering in the locker room speaks it.
“Hmm.” Nail makes a considering noise, and Alex can almost hear him shrug. “No, you don’t really do it for me. No offense. Anna’s more my type.”
“For the last time, stop hitting on my fucking sister.” It’s a mark of how long-suffering Alex is that he can’t even muster up a threatening tone to go with his words anymore.
“She usually starts it, for the record.”
Alex holds the phone away from his face so that he can glare at it, then sighs. “Hang on.” He puts it on the bench long enough to pull his shirt and hoodie over his head, then picks it back up. Unsurprisingly, Nail is still talking.
“...been concussed recently, how do you even know he’s in his right mind about this?”
“Why are you so opposed to me getting laid?” Alex asks conversationally, dropping onto the bench to wait for Pricey and PK. The promise of sushi is the only thing getting him to go out in this weather instead of going home and napping.
“I’m not opposed to you getting laid,” Nail argues. “I’m opposed to you getting a new best friend. I can understand your confusion, since both are the same person.”
“Your life is so hard.”
Brendan drops onto the bench next to him, kicking at his ankle, all smiles and snow in his hair. “I started the car so we don’t freeze to death. Are they still not ready?”
Alex shrugs, giving his brain a second to adjust to English again. “I think Pricey’s ready, but he disappeared, and PK is like, playing Words With Friends instead of getting dressed.”
“It’s Ruzzle, thank you,” PK calls from across the room.
“Put a shirt on,” Alex retorts.
“I’m still here,” Nail reminds him in his ear. Alex sighs heavily.
“I have to go,” he says, switching back to Russian just in case.
“This conversation is not over.” Alex stifles a laugh and lets Nail think he’s threatening.
“Chucky, you coming?” Pricey’s reappeared in the doorway and apparently PK has finally deigned to dress himself.
“Ugh, I hate that nickname,” Nail groans.
“Goodbye, Nail.”
“You’ll always be my Gally!” is the last thing he hears before he hangs up.
Brendan’s looking at him funny, but Alex just shrugs.
“Nail,” he says, because that’s really all the explanation that’s needed. “Lunch?”
Brendan beams. “Yeah, let’s go.”
:::
The thing is, Nail’s not entirely wrong. Alex isn’t replacing him (god, that would be both impossible and really messy), but there’s something about the way that he clicks with Brendan that’s different from any other friendship he’s had. Better, maybe. And that’s great, because if he had to choose between hooking up with his best friend and hooking up with a total stranger, he’d go with best friend every time.
Like, as long as that best friend is Brendan and not Nail.
“Hey, have you seen the new Die Hard movie yet?” Brendan asks from where he’s sprawled on his stomach next to Alex. “I wanna see it, but going to the movies by yourself is lame.”
“Sounds perfect for you, then. What’s the problem?”
Brendan laughs quietly and shifts around so that his head is laying on Alex’s thigh. Alex immediately slides his fingers into the edges of Brendan’s hair, scratching gently.
“How’s your head?”
“Fine. I just apparently have a tendency to freak out about headaches now, even when I can tell it’s a sinus headache.” He turns his head so he can press his lips lightly against Alex’s wrist. “Thanks.”
“Mmm.” Alex was just tooling around on his phone, it’s not like he had to stop doing anything important. “Want me to turn the tv off?” It’s not loud, but their hotel room is pretty much silent otherwise, and maybe that would be better for Brendan’s head.
“Nah, ‘m good.”
“Don’t fall asleep on me. Your bed is over there,” Alex reminds him. They don’t sleep over. They’re not boyfriends.
“Yeah, yeah,” Brendan mutters.
Unfortunately, the fact that Alex keeps scratching Brendan’s head means that when he eventually gets tired of TSN, Brendan is sound asleep. It would probably be a dick move to wake him up, Alex reasons. Probably he should just let him stay where he is.
It’s just easier to turn out the lights and slide down in the bed. He’s tired.
:::
“You’re a dick.”
“Huh?” Alex takes a second to blink himself awake. Another hotel room in another city. Brendan’s feet tangled with his means they’re starting to make a habit of this, and the Russian on the other end of the phone call means it’s Nail who woke him up. Calling him a dick. Why?
Oh. Right.
He grins, even though Nail can’t see him. “How’d you like my celly, bitch?”
Yeah. He’s seen the Yak City posts. He uses the internet.
“I can’t believe you mocked my celly, you ass.”
Alex gasps. “Mocking? I was paying homage to the best celly of the seas--” He can’t even make it all the way through before dissolving into laughter.
“You suck.”
In all honesty, he hadn’t been mocking Nail, nor had his celly been nearly as over the top, but (correct) comparisons could definitely be drawn. He’d just scored on a play that reminded him vividly of one he and Nail had perfected in Sarnia, so it had felt appropriate. He makes sure to tell Nail this. “I even said it in my postgame, you can look at it on the website.”
“Pffft. Like I’m going to voluntarily spend time on the Habs website.” Alex is pretty sure he knows the exact facial expression Nail is wearing right now. “You’re still a dick. You don’t call, you don’t write...”
“I texted you for like four hours the day before yesterday, you needy fuck.”
Nail doesn’t dignify that with a response for a moment. Alex rolls his eyes, and adjusts his arm when Brendan rolls over to his side, burrowing his head into Alex’s neck. He’s not awake, and probably won’t be for another half hour or so. Alex probably shouldn’t know this.
“I gotta go,” he says quietly. “Don’t wanna wake up Bren. I’ll Skype you when I get home, okay?”
“Promises, promises.” Nail gives an airy sigh. “Tell your boyfriend I say hello.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alex protests, but Nail’s already hung up.
“Who’s not your boyfriend?”
And apparently he said that last part in English. “What? Nothing. Nail is just...being Nail.”
“Do you have a boyfriend? I feel like this is kind of inappropriate if you do.” Brendan yawns, stretching his arms above his head as he tries to wake up. “Oh. Wait. He meant me?”
“Uh, yeah, I mean - I told him it wasn’t like that, but it’s Nail.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Brendan drops his chin onto Alex’s shoulder.
“I - huh?”
“Well, we’re having sex, and even when we’re not, we spend all our time together,” Brendan says. His face is disconcertingly close.
“We can stop spending so much time together,” Alex offers, even though he’d really rather not.
“But like, that’s the thing, I want to spend all my time with you. Unless you don’t,” Brendan is quick to add.
“No, I do!”
Brendan narrows his eyes, giving Alex a searching look, then leans over and kisses him.
They don’t usually kiss if it’s not leading up to something, but this is nice - the slow, lazy pace; the dim light filtering in through the curtains from the sun that’s probably just rising; the ease with which they fit against each other. Alex sighs into it, his hand sliding around to the back of Brendan’s head, keeping him there as long as possible.
Brendan is the first to pull back, though, and Alex lets his eyes close again as Brendan butts their foreheads together.
“So...boyfriends.”
“Mmm. Yeah, okay.”
:::
Nail is insufferable. And still jealous.
“You love him better!” he practically wails. “I’m going to make Schultzy be my new best friend, and find a hot girlfriend in Edmonton, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“I should be so lucky,” Alex says easily, looking around for his street shoes.
“Or maybe I’ll marry Anna and you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Aha. He slides his feet into his shoes, and flips off PK when he sees him pointing at his watch. “Nail, I have to go,” he says in English for PK’s benefit, “the old men on the team need to eat.”
“I’ll show you old!” Colby calls from his stall.
“Save it for the game, Army,” Brendan says, dropping onto the bench in front of where Alex is standing. “Hurry it up, Chucky, it’s not just the old guys who are hungry.”
“Goodbye,” Nail says. “I am going to mourn our friendship. And maybe call your sister,” he adds quickly, hanging up before Alex can respond.
He stares at the phone in disgust for a second before shoving it into his pocket and grabbing his boyfriend’s hand, pulling him up off the bench.
“Let’s go eat.”