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It’s the first time Washington plays the Panthers this season and it just happens to be an afternoon game, which means that Jake can follow David home. The Caps won 3-1, but the single Panthers goal had been Jake’s doing so David thinks that it’s going to be a good night for both of them. Not that Jake’s mood usually depends on the game result, but still. David had been looking forward to seeing Jake again and he’s glad that there had not been a complete Panther’s breakdown that could have potentially ruined the night.
The season is only three weeks old at this point, which means that David saw Jake five weeks ago. Objectively speaking, it’s not that long - they’d gone without seeing each other for much longer, but now that they’re together again, really together, it’s harder somehow. David doesn’t remember it being this difficult, the first time around. But they have the entire evening stretched out in front of them, until Jake has to return to the team hotel before curfew at midnight. “Like Cinderella,” Jake had said with a laugh when they had talked about it.
David would be embarrassed by how eager he is to get Jake alone - had been, in fact, when Kiro teased him about it - but with Jake right in front of him, hands cradled around David’s face while they kiss, it’s difficult to remember feeling embarrassed about anything.
It’s quite a while later, when Jake and David are lying in bed, legs tangled and David happily engulfed by Jake’s bulkier body, that Jake shatters the peace.
“So,” Jake says. “I thought about something.”
David tenses up, and apparently Jake can feel it because his next words are placating.
“No, hush. It’s nothing bad, I swear.” He presses a small kiss to David’s temple.
David is still unnerved. He may not know much about relationships but he knows this: an opening like that never bodes well.
“What?” he asks, a little testily.
“It's just ... this curfew thing kinda blows, you know? And I figured ... I could ask management to grant me my curfew exemption for when we’re in Washington. Tell them I already have a place to stay and don’t need the hotel room.”
David is still tense, can feel his heart beating fast.
The CBA states that players can ask management for exemptions of the team-mandated curfew. It’s intended for when the players are in their hometown or wherever their family lives. Usually, a player is granted one curfew exemption without much of a fuss, or so David had heard. He’s never had a reason to ask for it and is frankly quite glad that his parents aren’t aware of its existence because it means that he can use Sorry, I have curfew as an unquestioned excuse to bow out early from their inevitable dinner dates whenever he’s in Ottawa or Calgary.
Apparently, he’s silent for too long, because Jake quietly says, “Hey,” and strokes his hand gently through David’s hair. “I haven’t said anything to them yet. I won’t if you don’t want me to. That's why I’m bringing it up now - to see what you think.”
“I don’t know …” David says, because he doesn’t.
He thinks about how much nicer it would be, having the entire evening to spend together, waking up together in the morning. Jake, the first thing he sees, the first voice he hears. He can’t deny wanting that. It’s stupid because it’s a risk that he doesn’t need to take, that Dave would probably strongly advise against and yet. He still wants it, can’t deny the allure of the idea.
“You don’t have to answer now,” Jake says. “Just ... think about it.”
“What exactly would you tell them?” David asks because he can’t help being suspicious and with Jake's track record of telling people about … things, he feels at least partially justified in being wary. But he also knows that after what happened the last time, Jake had changed. He had understood David’s point of view and said he’d respect it. He would never risk things between them again like that. At least, that’s what David likes to think. But reality has a tendency to not conform with what David thinks. Especially when it comes to Jake.
“Nothing about you!” Jake says, sounding sincere. “Just that I have someone in the city. I swear, David, nothing about you.”
“But ... what if they find out?”
“They won’t,” Jake says.
David wishes he could have even a fraction of Jake’s belief in people. “How can you know that?” he asks.
“David, if I tell them that I have a boyfriend in Washington, that will be enough for them,” Jake says. “They're fine with me being bi. They won’t need more information than that.”
David hates how patient Jake sounds, as if David is unreasonable for being suspicious about this. Management is no one’s friend; he would know. David remembers the stone-faced contract negotiations with the Islanders management, sat in a room with them long enough to be fully aware that hockey is just business to them. And if they fear that their business is threatened - David sees Jake being followed. Followed to David’s apartment; pictures being taken of Jake entering; of Jake and David; of them, together - David can hardly bear thinking about it and he feels himself grow even more tense. Even being in the shelter of Jake’s arms, something that usually does wonders for helping him calm down, can’t stop the horrible visions from flashing in front of David’s eyes.
“What if -” David starts, but can’t bring himself to voice his thoughts. He feels afraid and stupid for it in the face of Jake’s calm patience.
They’re silent for another long moment, before Jake carefully asks, “What if what?”
“How do you know that they won’t want to find out?” he finally says.
“And like, what? Follow me?”
David flinches, but when Jake says it out loud it does sound a bit ridiculous. Apparently, Jake reads David’s silence on the subject as yes, that is exactly what I fear because he says, “No, they don’t do that,” as if he knows.
“They won’t care,” he continues. “If I tell them that my boyfriend doesn’t want media attention, and we're not ready to be out - ”
David can’t help making a small noise and Jake corrects himself quickly. “ - That we don’t want to be out, then ... management is fine with that. They honestly don’t care, David.” He sounds so earnest about it, like he genuinely believes it. “It's such a minor thing to them as long as it doesn’t affect my play - ”
“But what if it does?” David interrupts. “Will they care then? What if they - ?”
“No. That came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “I just meant that they don’t care about my life off the ice as long as it doesn’t affect the locker room. And you know that it doesn’t.”
“Not anymore,” David can’t help but add.
He thinks back to the first uncomfortable months of Kiro being in the Panthers' locker room, before things had started to get better, thinks that Jake's probably thinking about that as well.
“Yeah, but we got through that, didn’t we?” Jake says, softly.
Then he pokes David in the side. David squawks indignantly, but it breaks the tension, which was - David suspects - what Jake intended all along. David struggles to push Jake off of him and succeeds only partially until they end up lying on their sides. David’s surprised to find that he’s actually smiling, despite everything. He looks at Jake. The strand of hair that always seems to fall into his eyes is doing exactly that again, and with a pang of a feeling that David can’t name, he realizes that he can put it back behind Jake’s ears. So he does, and Jake’s smile goes infinitesimally softer.
“We made it out fine,” Jake says, quietly.
“I guess.”
“Oh, you guess,” Jake snorts, laughter in his eyes.
They stay quiet for a while, just looking at each other. Jake’s so close that David can see the tiny freckles in his irises, the ones that make it impossible to say if his eyes are blue or green. Even this close and after all this time, David’s undecided. Eventually, Jake breaks the silence.
“We made it back to here, didn't we? Back to this?”
David knows what he means and he automatically tightens the hand that’s resting on Jake’s shoulder. “Yeah, we did.”
David doesn’t say anything for a moment, and neither does Jake until Jake visibly pulls himself together and brings the conversation back to the topic at hand.
“So, anyway. I just wanted to tell you,” Jake says. “That it's a possibility. With the Curfew Exemption. You don't have to say yes or no right now.” He hesitates. “Just know that it's possible.”
For me to stay the night, to be together longer, to fall asleep together David finishes that sentence in his head.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”
*~~~~*
And David does think about it. He’s on the team plane en route to California to play the dreaded annual California Road Trip, a trip that’s not quite so dreaded anymore, now that he’s playing on a team that actually has a chance of taking points home with them. He’s sitting next to Oleg, as usual, who has already fallen asleep and wonders if Oleg uses his Curfew Exemption. He probably doesn’t, David thinks, because his family is always with him. Or in Russia.
It makes him wonder if the Panthers management will find it weird that Jake’s exemption is Washington and not Detroit. If they wonder how he can have a … partner who’s not with him in Florida and then feels ridiculous for even thinking about that. His main worry should be how likely it is that the Panthers’ management doesn’t ask further questions about this exemption, not whether they’d judge Jake’s partner for not packing up his life and moving to Sunrise to be with him.
He remembers that Emily is still in Pittsburgh and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Kiro talk about Emily following him to Sunrise and wonders why that is. He’s pretty sure, though, that Kiro asked for his Curfew Exemption for Pittsburgh to spend some extra time with her.
He gets roped into a discussion with Robbie and Georgie, who’re sitting in the row in front of him loudly watching baseball, when they need his take on Vásquez to settle a dispute. His opinion - that Vásquez shows potential and works great with Jimenez - is apparently a wrong opinion to have because it offends both Robbie and Georgie. Suddenly, the two of them are ganging up on David, which occupies him for the rest of the flight.
*~~~~*
When he finally has some time to himself again later that night, he checks the Panthers’ schedule, shoots Jake a text telling him about the Vásquez discussion, and settles down on the bed to call Kiro.
Ever since realizing that Emily is most likely Kiro’s Curfew Exemption, he’s been eager to talk to Kiro about it. It might be a bit unorthodox to start a phone call directly with questions about the current CBA and what management’s scope of discretion is, but David thinks that Kiro is used to a certain kind of weirdness from him by now and doesn’t mind. He gamely answers David’s inquiries about how his discussion with management went when he asked for his exemption and how exactly the exemption works. When David asks if management requires some kind of proof of who the exemption is for, Kiro laughs.
“What? Like a contract of blood? To show you only meet relatives?”
“No,” David says, blushing at how ridiculous it sounds when said out loud. “Besides, that wouldn’t even work because you’re definitely not blood-related to Emily.”
“That is very true and I am very lucky that we are not related. She would not date me otherwise!”
“But you would still date her?” David knows he’s getting side-tracked here but he can’t help following Kiro’s frankly ridiculous line of discussion.
“Well, what if she was only my cousin? That is not illegal. But still blood related and I could sign blood contract with management.”
David groans. “I know that there’s no blood contract with management, whatever that would even be. But …” He hesitates, then asks the question that’s really been bugging him. “Do they have some kind of follow-up question about the exemption? Like, did you have to give them Emily’s name and address?”
Kiro is quiet for a moment before he says, “No, I didn’t.”
David lets out the breath that he hadn’t been aware he was holding.
“I told them when I signed the contract that I wanted my curfew exemption in Pittsburgh to see my girlfriend”, Kiro continues. “That was it. No more information for them, and they didn’t ask any more questions.”
“So they don’t even know Emily’s name?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Okay. Thank you”, David says, feeling weirdly relieved even though the situation is different from his and Jake’s. A girlfriend was normal, would need much less explanation than … anything else.
Kiro is silent on the other end of the phone but David can practically see his raised eyebrows.
“What?”
“Any reason you're suddenly so interested, Davidson?” Kiro asks.
“It’s nothing.”
“You want me to stay over when we’re in Washington? Have long Davidson-and-Kiro-nights? BFF nights?”
David groans. “Stop saying BFF.”
“But is that not what we are, Davidson? Has Robbie replaced me? You wound me!” Kiro says dramatically.
“What? No, he doesn’t replace you. I can have two friends.”
“But Russian friends best!” Kiro says and then changes the topic before David has a chance to either deny or confirm that claim. “So, has Captain Jealous asked you to stay over when you play us in Sunrise?”
“No!” David says loudly, adds, “And don’t call him that!” a little belatedly.
Kiro is undeterred. “But he wants to stay over when we play you in Washington, right?”
David is silent, can’t say anything, feels transparent and anxious even though he knows he does not need to be, not with Kiro. Kiro knows. And he likes Jake well enough, would probably not be against the exemption. Would maybe even argue in favour of it.
But Kiro doesn’t say anything either, waits for David to say something.
“Maybe,” David concedes.
“Ha! I knew it!” Kiro sounds gleeful.
“Knew it how?” David asks, feeling his chest go tight. He’d thought that Jake hadn’t talked about this with anyone, but if Kiro knows -
“Oh, he didn't say anything to me”, Kiro says quickly. “ About you, I mean. I just noticed him paying lots of attention when Fallon was talking about his curfew exemption for Vancouver with management. And then you ask all these questions … I am very smart, so was not big leap.”
“Oh.” So Jake didn’t - David can breathe again, relief hitting him like a wave. He’s very glad he’s already sitting down and can’t say anything for a moment.
Kiro waits, but eventually breaks the silence. “So, are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. He just said he could ask management about getting the exemption. If I wanted him to. He said it was my decision and I should think about it, but that he’d leave it up to me.”
Suddenly, there’s a muffled rustling sound coming through the phone and then Kiro starts mumbling something in Russian which David recognizes as swears. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
There’s some more rustling and then David’s phone lights up with a video-chat alert.
“Kiro?” he asks, while pressing the button to accept. The screen transforms and then he can see Kiro, sitting on the sofa, Orange held up against his chest with one hand, while he holds the phone up with the other, expertly getting an angle that allows David to see both Kiro and Orange.
“She knows I’m talking to you and started begging for phone.” Kiro sounds exasperated but David can see his grin. “So say hi to Davidson, Orange.”
Orange does nothing of the sort, at least not that David can discern. But he’s admittedly not very good at cat expressions. “Uhm, hello to you, too?” he says nonetheless.
Kiro’s grin widens. He takes one of Orange’s black paws and waves them up and down, an attempt at a greeting. David rolls his eyes.
“That doesn’t seem like very normal cat behaviour to me,” he says.
Kiro lets go of Orange’s paw and makes a dismissive hand gesture. “She really was trying for your attention. She love Davidson Chapman best. Just look at my Instagram. Proof there.”
David snorts. “Proof that you put on there.”
Kiro seems unimpressed by that argument, keeps grinning like he knows Orange best. Which, David supposes, he does. Then Kiro lets Orange settle back on his lap and starts stroking her fur, while angling the phone so that his face is the main focus of the frame.
“About the exemption-” Kiro hesitates. “I think it's good that you guys are talking about this. Together.”
That is not at all what David expected Kiro to say. He hasn’t thought about it beyond the practical matters, but maybe he should. Because maybe it does mean something, maybe it’s a good sign that they’re talking about it, having an adult conversation about it. David supposes it’s different from the last time they were together. David is sure that they would not have talked about getting the exemption. Maybe Jake would have just gotten it on his own, without consulting David- David is suddenly viciously relieved that Jake asked.
“I guess.”
Kiro snorts. “Oh, you guess.”
David is reminded of the way Jake said it back to him as well, feels warm at the reminder to how ... hopeful Jake had said but we made it back to the this.
“Yeah, I guess”, he repeats and when Kiro snorts again, he repeats it a third time, more firmly. “I guess it's different. From ... you know. Before.”
“Well, it better be,” Kiro says, sounding kind of dark.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
David tries to get Kiro to explain what he meant, but gets distracted by his tablet on the nightstand lighting up with a message from Jake. It’s a link to a stats website that proves quite decisively how much better Vásquez played with Jiminez and a comment saying G n Robie cn suk it.
“Davidson?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” David says, feeling chagrined because being on the phone and not paying attention to the other person was rude. “Jake just messaged me.”
“About the exemption?” Kiro sounded off. “I thought you said he would give you time?”
“No, nothing about that. He hasn’t mentioned the exemption since we talked about it.”
“Right,” Kiro pauses. “So, what do you think, Davidson?”
“I already told you, I don’t know.”
“Well, you must know something. Everybody knows something.”
“I … Well, I think it would be nice. If Jake could stay over,” David says, haltingly.
“It is very nice,” Kiro says, grinning. “Pretty dope to be able to stay the night.”
David snorts. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s comparable.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because it’s much more stressful. For me.”
“I’m not following.”
“Because I’ll be worrying about what management thinks about Jake being with his -” David swallows and forces it out through clenched teeth, “ - boyfriend, when he’s with me.”
Kiro is quiet for a moment, then says, “Management really does not care about that. If Jake tells them that he wants his curfew exemption for Washington because he has a boyfriend who lives there, that’s fine. Lourdes is out to management, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, he is,” David says. “He told them a while ago.”
“See? Then they won’t be surprised that he has a boyfriend.” Kiro’s silent for another moment, still looking serious. “They did not ask me questions about Emily when I told them.”
“Right.” David feels oddly relieved and yet can’t help but to ask yet another question. “Do you think -” He draws in another deep breath. “Do you think it’ll be the same, even if it’s … not a girlfriend?”
“Yes,” Kiro says, face uncharacteristically serious. “Even if it is a boyfriend.”
“Right. Okay.” Suddenly, David wants to stop talking about this, wants this topic to be over. He tries to remember what Kiro talked about the last time they were on the phone. “So, what’s up with Gallagher lately? Have you finally broken his Mario Kart winning streak?”
Kiro accepts the abrupt change of topic without a comment and launches into the latest story of how Cody Gallagher is a dirty cheat at Mario Kart. That leads to a story about a prank that someone had dared to pull on Parent and when David checks the time, it’s an hour later and his arm feels kind of stiff from holding his phone up for so long for the video chat.
“I better go to bed,” David says when Kiro’s story winds down.
“Well, good night, Davidson!” Kiro says. “From me and Orange.”
“Thank you.” David pauses, adds, “Both of you,” because he knows it’ll make Kiro laugh. It does. “It was good talking to you and … thank you. For answering my questions.”
“Any time. That what best friend is for.”
*~~~~*
It’s few days later when their schedules finally align for an extended period of time and David is able to call Jake.
“So,” David starts, unsure how to bring the topic up and yet, desperate to talk about it. “I, uhm. I want to talk to you about what you said the other day.”
“How the Pistons are going to slaughter the Raptors next week?” Jake says absentmindedly, the rustling of his bedsheets audible over the phone as he gets comfortable, presumably on his bed.
“No!” David doesn’t mean to sound so emphatic but Jake’s claim is both outrageously wrong and so completely not the topic that David wants to talk about that he can’t help himself.
“Right,” Jake says, sounding much more alert. “What do you want to talk about then?”
“What you said about management the other day …” David lets the rest of the sentence hang there, doesn’t know how to continue now that he started.
“Oh,” Jake says, surprised.
“Yeah.”
There’s a pause where neither of them speaks, Jake waiting and David unsure of his words.
“So …” Jake eventually breaks the silence. “What do you think about it?”
“I thought about it. And I talked to Kiro about it.”
“Okay, cool,” Jake says and David is glad to hear that Jake sounds sincere, that he doesn’t seem to hold a grudge against Kiro anymore and has accepted that he’s important to David.
“And ... I want that,” David continues. “I want you to stay the night.”
“Really?!” Jake sounds delighted.
“Yeah.” David knows that he's smiling dumbly and he's willing to bet that Jake is too. He knows what Jake’s face looks like when he sounds like that: happy and smiley.
David is happy that he made him sound like that.
“And if you say that you won't mention me - ” David starts, but is interrupted by Jake.
“I won’t, I promise. David, I swear, I won’t mention you. You have to know I won’t!”
Not anymore, David adds silently in his head. But he knows how things have changed, is startled to realize that he does know that Jake wouldn’t do it again.
“Yeah. I know.” David takes a deep breath and continues, “If you say that management won’t care who your - ” Despite his best efforts, he still almost stumbles on the next word. “Boyfriend is then …” He takes another deep breath, feels as if there’s a sudden weight hanging on his next words that he can’t really explain, wasn’t aware that they would carry. “I trust you.”
“Oh, David,” Jake says, his voice doing something funny. For all that David knew the exact tone of voice that means Jake is happy, he is unable to identify what this one means.
But David doesn’t think it’s something bad.
No one says anything for another long moment.
“So, yeah, you can ask them. About the exemption.” David says, feeling shy.
“I will. God, I can’t wait to see you again.”
This time, David knows what Jake’s tone means and he blushes.
FIN