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Patrick looked at the giant arena in front of him and smiled uncontrollably.
“David, are we going to see a hockey game?”
“Mm-hmm,” David responded affirmatively, biting his lips to hide his own smile. They were in Toronto for a holiday fair that lasted two weeks. They had a stand with products from the store while they were actively looking for new vendors. Overall, it had been going pretty well, David had been able to connect with two sisters who produced vegetal milks from their crops and, strangely enough, monks who were looking to sell their artisanal beer to pay for the rehabilitation of their abbey. Patrick had happily taken care of setting up contracts. And after work hours, they had been able to enjoy the nightlife of a big city.
Patrick loved seeing this version of David, at ease in pretentious galleries and high-end restaurants, but only because he never left Patrick’s side for too long. And he always seemed relieved to find Patrick again the few times he ventured a little further than the very small distance they were accustomed to in Schitt’s Creek. Patrick had been intimidated at the beginning of their marriage, worried he might loose David at some point to a bigger life.
But David had truly blossomed in the routine of their life in Schitt’s Creek, in the store and the community they had built there. And they could appreciate the occasional reason to go outside of their comfort zone and do different things.
That still didn’t explain why he was finding himself in front of the Scotiabank Arena when it was David’s night to choose their date activity.
“Why?” Patrick asked, knowing his husband wanted to be set up. Already, David’s hands were in the air pointing at everything.
“Well, there was no baseball game happening. But, you like hockey too, right?” David threw a slightly worried look in his direction, and Patrick was quick to nod. He did like hockey quite a lot, he was Canadian after all. Pleased, David continued. “And Stevie said that you would particularly enjoy this game.” Of course, Stevie had been involved. David would have wanted confirmation about anything sport-related. “Something about you enjoying the Centurions?” David said with a wince of uncertainty.
“The Centaurs,” Patrick corrected good-naturedly.
“Yes,” David nodded, “that.” He narrowed his eyes inquisitively. “So, was she right?”
Patrick knew exactly why Stevie thought he might enjoy watching the Ottawa Centaurs play, beyond getting to appreciate two of the best hockey players from the last decade.
“Yes, she was right.”
David smiled, obviously pleased with himself at getting it right and Patrick felt a familiar wave of fondness for his husband. Especially since he knew with absolute certainty that Stevie hadn’t told David the reason why Patrick might have an interest in the Centaurs when he generally was a Toronto fan. That meant Patrick got to have fun tonight watching David figure it out.
“Why a sport’s game, though?” Patrick asked, not complaining, just curious. “It’s not even my birthday.”
David pretended to be exasperated. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. Am I not allowed to surprise my husband?”
Patrick hummed his approval, knowing there was more to come.
David sighed. “I know that you don’t always enjoy the city like I do. I dragged you to multiple shows, some of them questionable. As a side note, we are never following Gwen’s recommendations again.”
“Some of them were not that bad.”
David raised one elegant eyebrow, before moving on with a wide hand gesture. “Anyway, I thought it’d be nice to do something you’d like for once.”
“I did like going to those shows with you,” he made sure to point out, because he had, and he never wanted to leave David with the impression that spending time with him was a chore. “But I appreciate the gesture, and I am very excited to see this game. How did you get tickets, anyway? I know these games are often sold out in advance.”
“Alexis knew a guy.”
“Of course, she did,” Patrick said with unbelievable affection for his family. “Well, we better go find our seats. I am guessing we are getting snacks on the way?”
David looked so affronted that Patrick even had to ask. Patrick laughed before grabbing David’s hand and heading towards the line of people already queuing the entry.
“Wow,” David said, his eyes fixed on the ice. The seats Alexis had gotten them were pretty awesome. Which meant they had a very good view of the players doing their pre-game prep.
“Yeah,” Patrick responded, also staring at the players on their elbows and knee, almost hypnotized by the gyrating movement of their hips.
“That’s quite the warm up,” David continued. “I didn’t know hockey was so,” he paused dramatically, “evocative.”
It was not the first time Patrick had seen this type of stretching or thought that it was hot. But he usually watched hockey alone, and those thoughts went unverbalized. It was different being here with David, who was blatantly staring like this was an erotic show. Patrick liked being able to share this with his husband.
Still, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t try to troll David a little. “Pretty good exercise to improve your flexibility.”
David gave him a sly look. “You have the thighs for it though. I might ask for a private demonstration later on.”
Heat rose to Patrick’s cheek at the thought, a pleasant flash of excitement. He was surprised David could still make him feel that way after all those years, but he loved it. “Sure, I can do that.”
The game started and Patrick knew David’s attention drifted to the nachos in his lap. But that was okay. Patrick liked the Toronto’s team well enough, but he couldn’t deny there was something magical about watching Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander play together. From the very first minute, the chemistry between them on the ice was insane. It was like they were moving in synch, the puck passing between the two at light speed.
It wasn’t five minutes into the game before the Centaurs scored the first goal, a beautiful shot from Haas with an assist from Hollander. The noise made David look up from his chips just in time to see Rozanov skate by Hollander and clap him on the ass. David rolled his eyes at what he perceived to be an example of typical bro-like behavior. Patrick could only smile, patiently waiting.
Toronto decided to wake up and make Ottawa work for it a little. David winced with his whole body when Hoffman, the Maple Leaf enforcer, body checked Hollander into the boards.
“Is that normal?” David asked, as Rozanov looked pissed as hell on the ice.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
At the face-off, Rozanov was clearly saying something his opponent didn’t appreciate, and Rozanov used the distraction to get the puck past him and pass it directly to Hollander, who was waiting for it. What followed was the most beautiful two-player offensive play Patrick could remember seeing, with Toronto defenders being left in the dust, and that culminated in Hollander driving the puck right into the net.
All the Centaurs cheered at once. Rozanov skated over to Hollander and dropped a quick kiss on his lips before taking off smiling.
“What?” David asked, dumbfounded.
“Oh, did I forget to mention those two are married?” Patrick asked innocently.
David turned to him in a flash. “What?” His voice had gone up an octave.
“Yeah, an epic story too. They started out on rival teams and everything,” Patrick continued, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
David’s eyes were loud as he was rebooting. “Okay,” he finally said after ten seconds. “Tell me everything.”
Patrick chuckled. “Okay, David.” And then proceeded to do exactly that. “They are both hockey prodigies. I mean, since they were kids basically. Rozanov was the best young player coming from Russia, and Hollander from Canada. So from the beginning, they were competing against each other. They got drafted the same year.” He saw David’s confused look. “That means that was the year they got picked by professional teams.” David nodded in understanding. “And Rozanov got picked first by Boston. And Hollander was drafted second by Montreal. And those teams have the worst rivalry in the league, hands down.”
David’s eyes widened and darted out to the ice, where the first husbands of hockey were playing harmoniously together. “No,” he let out unconsciously.
“Yeah, it was a huge deal. Made bigger by the league. The press couldn’t get enough of it. The boastful aggressive Russian boy who would always be seen with girls against the smart but polite Canadian boy who lived for hockey. And they were actually that good. They both became the stars of their teams. They won every price and award that exist, almost taking turns. Whenever Montreal would play Boston, it was huge.”
David tilted his head, clearly trying to understand where in all of this was the love story. Patrick delighted in having his full attention, it was a heady feeling. He continued his tale with care.
“Rozanov would always chirp at Hollander, though never meanly.” David raised an eyebrow. “But Hollander mostly refused to take the bait. They would fight it out on the ice. It went on for years.”
“When did it change?”
“Well, at the end of his contract with Boston, instead of renewing it, Rozanov decided to go to Ottawa.”
David waited, clearly not understanding the meaning of the move. “Okay, so it would be like your mother suddenly deciding to leave Sunrise Bay to accept a role in Jocelyn’s production of Cats.”
“Oh,” David exclaimed, a shiver of fear running through his shoulders.
“Yeah, at the time, the Centaurs were not great. So nobody understood. That’s around the time that he started a charity with Hollander. They run hockey camps for kids, and the proceeds go to mental health organizations.”
“That’s nice,” David said. "But wait, when did they become friendly enough to start a charity together?"
“Nobody knows, they just said that they got to talking at one point or another. But a year or so later, a video was leaked where they were seen kissing, with Hollander still playing for Montreal.”
“No,” David whined, distressed at the notion of anyone being outed against their will.
“Yeah, it was brutal. Ottawa was fine with it mostly, but Montreal accused Hollander of losing on purpose against Rozanov.”
“Even though he had won all the awards for them?” David asked, outraged.
“Yeah. Rumors are that the Montreal locker room was not very accepting. Within the year, Hollander got traded to Ottawa.”
“Good for him. Fuck those assholes.”
“Yeah, Montreal sucks. They got married the summer before Hollander got traded if I remember correctly.”
David looked once more at the ice, fighting against a smile that would betray his romantic side. “And they are accepted, in Ottawa?”
Just as he asked, Hollander missed a shot, and two of his teammates skated by him to pat him on the back.
“Yes, Ottawa has their back.”
David let himself be reluctantly charmed. “I hope you realize we are supporting the Centaurs from now on.”
Patrick smiled easily. “I have no problem with that.”
David suddenly narrowed his eyes. “Wait, I still don’t know when it started between them!”
“They never said publicly. But most people now think that Rozanov moved to Canada to be closer to Hollander.”
“You said he was Russian, right?”
“Yeah,” Patrick said sadly. “I think they revoked his citizenship when they were outed.”
David made a distraught noise. Not liking to see his husband this way, Patrick kissed his cheek gently. “He became Canadian, though. And he was allowed to play on the Canadian team for the Olympics.”
“Really?”
“Yes. On the same team as his husband.”
“That’s…” David sounded a bit choked up, so Patrick went for the kill.
“They won the gold medal together.”
David closed his eyes and tilted his head up. “I refuse to get emotional at a hockey game.”
Patrick leaned towards him, taking in his distinctive leathery scent through the layers of protection against the cold. “I think it’s a bit late for that, babe,” he whispered, before kissing his shoulder.
By the end of the first period, Ottawa had kept their two points lead. During the intermission, Patrick had gone to buy them more food and they had watched the end of the Olympics final where Canada had won on Patrick’s phone. Patrick had sworn he wouldn’t tell anyone David had cried, but then again, his eyes had not been exactly dry either. Watching those two professional athletes throw themselves in each other’s arms and kissing passionately after winning was something else.
They had mostly recovered by the time the second period started.
“So, how are you enjoying your first hockey game?” Patrick asked.
“It’s much more entertaining than I originally thought.”
“Oh really?” Patrick exclaimed, pretending to be shocked.
“Mm, yes,” David said with a fond look letting him know he wasn’t fooled. “But this isn’t my first hockey game.”
“It’s not?” Patrick asked, actually surprised this time.
“When I was in New York, I hooked up with this guy for a few weeks. It didn’t amount to much. He was nice, but way too intense. He wasn’t out and he wouldn’t even take me back to his apartment, he was so worried about being recognized. I mean, he was far from the worst guy I have been with, he was actually sweet in his own way. But he physically reminded me of… well, of one of the worst guys I had been with. Anyway, he was a hockey player, and I kept making fun of it, so he dared me to come watch one of his games. He got me tickets and everything. So I went, but I was so high at the time, I don’t remember much of it.”
Patrick had progressively stopped breathing during David’s story. Patrick had heard about Sebastien Raine, and Alexis had shown him pictures of him so that Patrick knew to avoid him during one of their trips to New York. Through the white noise going on his brain, Patrick rewound what David had just told him. Sometimes in the early 2010’s, David had slept with a closeted New York hockey player that looked like Sebastian Raine.
“David,” Patrick started, his voice hoarse. “Did you hook up with Scott Hunter?”
David was taken aback, his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. “How did you know?”
“David,” Patrick repeated plaintively, “Scott Hunter was the first hockey player to come out as gay. It was a pretty big deal.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
Patrick chuckled through his lack of surprise that David had managed to miss one of the biggest events in hockey of the last decade. Patrick hadn’t missed it, though. Not by a long mile.
“He chose to come out?” David asked. “He wasn’t outed?”
Patrick took a shaky breath. “No, he chose to do it.”
David seemed to sense the shift in Patrick and looked at him with anxious eyes. Patrick tried to find some of his composure, a futile endeavor. “Do you-” he paused and bit his lip.
David put down his food and grabbed his hand gently. Patrick smiled at the caring gesture. “Do you remember what I told you about the moment I decided to break up my engagement with Rachel?”
David frowned slightly, obviously trying to recall that conversation. “You said you were watching some baseball game, and at the end two male players kissed. That’s when you knew. Right?”
A small burst of laughter escaped Patrick. “Not baseball.” He could feel tears rising in his eyes. “It was a hockey game.”
“Oh,” David said quietly. “You mean…”
“I was home alone. Rachel was out with some friends. We had just fought again, about choosing a venue I think. We were both licking our wounds. So I watched hockey. It was game 7 of the Stanley Cup.” He paused, turning to David. “That’s like the Met Gala of hockey. Most important game of the year.” David nodded appreciatively. “That year, it was New York against San Francisco. I wasn’t really rooting for anyone. But Hunter, well he had had such an amazing year. Everybody had called him too old, saying he couldn’t lead his team to victory. He was pushing forty. He had had a great career but had always been short of winning the cup. But, in the end, he proved them wrong. That night, he played so well. And they won. Everybody cheered, right? All the wives and the kids came on the ice to join the players. And Hunter, he stood kind of alone. He started to look to the stands, before skating over. Everybody was confused. He pointed to someone in the stands. This guy started coming down. Hunter went to meet him, and got him on the ice. With the whole word was watching, he kissed him.” David gently wiped the tears that had fallen down Patrick’s face. He leaned into the touch. “I watched this live,” his voice broke slightly but he continued, “and the weight on my chest became unbearable. Because I wanted that. And I didn’t have it with Rachel. And I was pretty sure I knew why, even though I didn’t have the words yet. I broke up with Rachel the next day.”
“Oh, Patrick,” David said, tears coloring his voice. He gathered Patrick in his arms, who dropped his head on his very comfortable husband’s shoulder. They watched the game silently for a few moments, appreciating where the road had taken them.
“I can’t believe you slept with Scott Hunter,” Patrick said when he had recovered enough.
“I couldn’t know he would be so instrumental in my future husband’s queer journey, could I?” David defended himself, getting worked up.
That was exactly where Patrick wanted him. “Very inconsiderate of you.”
They spent the second intermission watching The kiss on Patrick’s phone. Neither of them pretended not to be crying. The last period was thankfully free of any emotional revelations, and they were able to enjoy the Centaurs well earned victory in relative peace.
@patrickbrewer
Happy to have caught a live @centaurs game. Congratulations on the win and thank you David for taking me <3
@alexisrose
Glad you enjoyed yourself and that David didn’t ruin the vibe for you!
@thedavidrose_ra
Walk into traffic, please.
But thank you for the tickets.
@patrickbrewer
He was perfect.
@alexisrose
<3
@thedavidrose_ra
When I took my husband to see a hockey game tonight, I had prepared myself to eat snacks and entertain myself on my phone while he enjoyed the hockey.
- What I hadn’t prepared myself for was the epic love story of Shakespearian’s magnitude that between Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander.
- Nor for learning that @scotthunter’s beautiful coming out had such an immense impact on my husband. So, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
@steviethebudd
David, did you cry at a hockey game?
@thedavidrose_ra
You can’t prove that.
@steviethebudd
I can ask your husband.
@scotthunter
Always happy to hear about the impact we had. I’m guessing this husband of yours is the reason you’re finally interested in hockey. We should catch up some day ;). Maybe have a double date if you’re ever back in NY.
@steviethebudd
I have so many questions.
@alexisrose
OMG David
“David,” Patrick said in what he considered to be a pretty calm voice given the circumstances, “what has just happened?”
David, who was lying on the bed next to him, rubbed his eyes in distress. “I didn’t think he was going to respond.”
Patrick watched as the post accumulated likes and responses from random people. “Did Scott Hunter just invite us for a double date? While letting the internet know you used to know each other.”
“I should have never downloaded the app back.” David’s phone started to ring, startling them both. David aggressively rejected the call when he saw that it was from Alexis and he threw his phone at the end of the bed.
“This is going to die down, right?” Patrick asked, as he was getting more DMs in five minutes than he had gotten in a year.
“Eventually, yes,” David responded, voice full of despair. Patrick couldn’t help but run a hand in his husband’s hair soothingly. Once the Earth had returned back to its axis in Patrick’s mind, he started to wonder.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting Scott Hunter,” he said tentatively, watching David open his eyes in response. They were dark and intense, and Patrick was used to getting lost in them.
“Oh yeah?” David asked, the beginning of a smile on his lips.
“Yeah. It’d be nice to say thank you in person, you know.”
The smile was full blown, now. “Well, we were planning on visiting Alexis this summer anyway,” he said casually.
Patrick started to get excited. There was a chance he might actually get to meet Scott Hunter. “He is such a legend. This is insane.”
“You are going to have a bad case of hero-worship, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. And yes, so you better do most of the talking for the first five minutes.”
“Mm, okay.” David smirked. He sat up, reached for his phone and started typing.
Patrick knew nothing good could come from this and he unlocked his phone to check the damage.
@thedavidrose_ra
My husband is interested in this double date. You are “a legend” apparently.
“For fuck’s sake, David,” he said as his cheeks heated up. His eyes were glued to his phone. He watched as the post blew up further, with people waiting to catch would happen next. Patrick didn’t know whether he wanted to see what Scott would respond or not. He felt like a teenager with a crush. Which was a weirdly novel feeling. He never figured it out in the end, because Scott wasn’t the one who answered.
@ilyarozanov
Hunter is not legend, is dinosaur. If you want real legend, you come meet shane and me. we’ll tell you epic love story ;)