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The bright green leaves on the nearby maple tree fluttered in the light breeze. The lake was calm, and peaceful, the wind causing barely a ripple in the cool blue water.
Burky’s hand was tracing gentle patterns along Philipp’s back as the two of them laid, sprawled haphazardly across a large beach towel that they had placed on the dock, neither of them wanting to move back towards the cottage.
It was a yearly tradition; in between the craziness of post-playoff loss (except those two amazing years where they had both been on winning teams), the catching up with family and friends and often way too many weddings, and then the training and preparation to head into a new season, this was their chance to rest and relax.
They had found this cottage after winning their first Stanley Cup. Desperately needing a place to get away from the crowds and all the newfound attention, Burky had stumbled across a listing for a ‘beautiful, rustic cottage’ in the ‘heart of Sunshine Coast’ and they jumped on it.
Some of the guys liked to go South, get away and drink in the clubs in Mexico or Ibiza, and while that was fun, and occasionally the younger guys on the Kraken managed to convince them to come along, for the most part they enjoyed this piece of paradise that was only theirs.
This year though, this year everything was different.
It wasn’t the first time they had been in this situation, where one of them got traded and not the other. It had been a bit of a joke at first. Recognition of a certain timing, that’s all there was really to it. No huge time gaps, at most a year. But a clear pattern nevertheless.
Wherever Philipp went, Burky followed.
It obviously wasn’t a guarantee at all; hockey teams, agents, and players could all be very fickle creatures, plans could change and shift on their heads at the very last moment. But to this day, that’s how things went. They were never separated for very long, and then before they knew it, there’d be an announcement of the trade and Burky was back with Philipp.
But the pattern had shifted. It wasn’t Philipp moving, and then Burky, like it always was. This time it was Burky who had gotten traded first. And honestly, Philipp hadn’t planned to move from the Kraken first either.
Starting on a team in their inaugural year was a rare opportunity, and being one of the starting goalies as they continued to build the Kraken team year after year, well Phillip never saw himself with another team after them. He wanted to retire as a Kraken player, with Burky by his side. Then he was plagued with injury after injury, and returned to the team only to be sent down to the AHL after a scary time period of being on waivers. It had been embarrassing to say the least, and it still made him feel at a higher risk of a trade at the worst.
But Burky? His trade came out of left field, or at least that’s what it had felt like, and all of a sudden, Phillip was even more rattled than with the whispers of the possibility of his own trade. Burky didn’t seem too bothered with the idea of going to Chicago, seeming his usual bubbly self in interviews, dropping lines like ‘great city’ and ‘Blackhawks was his childhood team’, but now, as the end of their time at the cottage was nearing, he had yet to say anything about the upcoming trade.
Letting out a loud sigh, Philipp rolled to his side, suppressing a wince at the slight pull he felt in his groin at the shift, before dropping his head on his hand, squinting as he looked down at his partner. “We need to talk,” he blurted out, before he could chicken out, wanting nothing more than to flop back into the previous position, and let Burky’s hands continue to distract him from his thoughts.
Burky blinked as he stared back at Philipp, whether from the sun, or sleepiness, or shock at his sudden question, Philipp wasn’t sure. “We need to talk about Chicago,” Philipp emphasized, needing Burky to understand what he was trying to say, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to ask either.
“Oh,” Burky said simply, before shifting into a seated position, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his legs, Philipp suppressing a mental wince this time, in awe of his partner’s natural flexibility. “Well, what do you want to talk about?”
Philipp hoped his mouth wasn’t wide open as he stared at Burly in confusion. What did Burky mean, ‘what did he want to talk about’? “Everything?” he asked, bewildered at Burky’s question. “You haven’t talked about Chicago at all since you’ve arrived. Hell, you’ve barely talked at all, and we both know that’s not like you. Is it sitting in your head again?”
“I thought you weren’t interested in talking about the trade,” Burky mumbled, his head down slightly as he shifted his gaze back towards the water. “You haven’t brought it up since I texted you about it, or answered any questions directed by reporters, so…yeah, I thought you wanted to avoid it all together…” he trailed off, looking back at Philipp, a hurt expression on his face.
Philipp thought back to the last handful of months, about the questions he had dodged, about how he had avoided talking to anyone, including Burky about the trade. Maybe Burky was partially right, but not for the reasons he was alluding to.
“No…well yeah…but fuck, let me get my thoughts straight,” Philipp stammered, reaching out to take Burky’s hand, unable to explain the amount of relief he felt when Burky let him take it. “I don’t see myself leaving Seattle,” he started, hoping that might help to set the groundwork, “and I was hoping you wouldn’t either,” he stammered, squeezing Burky’s hand slightly, hoping he wasn’t going to pull away. “And it’s not because you don’t deserve to go to whatever team that you want to, and will make you happy, I just-”
“-wish it had been with you?” Burky interrupted, his eyes locking on Philipp’s.
It felt almost as if Burky could see into his mind, into his soul, and suddenly, Philipp realized with a deep ache in his chest the real, real reason why he didn’t want to talk about Chicago. It wasn’t because he was worried about Burky not playing on the same team, it was because he was worried that Burky might not want to stay on their team of two. But before he could stop the conversation from going any further, not wanting to know any more, Burky dove right back in.
“You make me happy, you know that, right?” Burky interrupted Philipp’s catastrophic mental spiral as he grabbed Philipp’s other hand, practically pulling the goalie into his lap. “And that’s why I’m excited about Chicago, because it’s new places we get to check out, corny tourist traps to take photos in front of, and one of the best zoos in a downtown setting, that even has a polar bear!”
Philipp couldn’t help but grin as Burky started up his usual rambling, but this time telling Philipp all about the animal sanctuaries in the area, the pizza places they needed to try, and so on. But he needed to confirm one more thing.
“And you’re okay if I don’t follow you there? That I will retire in Seattle?”
Burky paused, cutting himself off in the middle of describing why the Chicago Cubs diamond was a historic must see, even for those who don’t enjoy baseball. Clasping Philipp’s face, a hand on each cheek, Burky leaned, letting his forehead rest on Philipp’s, just like the many forehead touches they have shared on the ice.
“You’ll always be my goalie, love. Whatever jersey you decide to wear, you’ll always be mine.”
Yeah, that sounded good to him, Philipp thought to himself as he pulled Burky in for a kiss which was only appropriate after that romantic declaration. And made himself a mental note to purchase one of Burky’s new Chicago jerseys to wear around the cottage next summer before Burky’s hands started travelling again, completely distracting him from any further coherent thoughts.
Their cottage really was the best place for a summer vacation after all.