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Shane bobs his head just a little bit behind the beat. He can feel the music thrumming through his whole body, a pounding, pulsing sound that seems to be synchronized with the club's neon lights. His beer is already warm in his hand, but he's not going to fight through the crowd to get back to the bar. He barely enjoys drinking anyway.
Shane isn't dancing. More to the point, Shane can't dance. But he's bobbing a little, watching Hayden Pike as his fellow rookie tries to shoot his shot with a gorgeous, dark-haired girl who's dancing with a friend. Her friend is... hot, probably? It's not easy to make out details in the dimly lit club, but her dress is nice. It looks really soft. She looks past Hayden and winks at him, at Shane, and he forces himself to give her a smile.
He's really bad at this. Why did he let Hayden talk him into coming out?
Well. He knows why.
Hayden's a little sweaty, maybe more from the crowd than the dancing itself, though he is definitely dancing. Or something. Heavy on the "or." He's moving to the music as a bright pop vocalist sings about brushing her teeth with alcohol. How would that even work? Would it actually get you drunk faster, Shane wonders, if you consumed the alcohol through--
"Hollzy," Hayden interrupts his thoughts, waving him closer. Hard to get any closer, but Shane pushes past a couple of people so they're close enough to hear one another easily over the music. Close enough to touch. "C'mon, they want to meet you."
"Um, hi girls," Shane says awkwardly, and Hayden can't stifle his laugh. Shane checks him gently with a shoulder, and Hayden does it back, automatic, like their bodies know to do the movement without either of them deciding it.
"Girls, this is Shane. Shane, these nice young ladies are Jackie, and Ophelia."
"Nice to meet you! Are you hockey fans?"
The one that had been looking at him--Ophelia--laughs and has to quickly cover it with one hand. Jackie shoots her a dark look, but there's an edge to that smile that Shane doesn't understand.
"We could be," Jackie says, giving a little giggle. She's wearing something skin-tight in strips of fabric like sports tape or an ace bandage. Shane keeps noticing Hayden's eyes drifting down her body, like he is seconds away from peeling the dress off and tossing it aside.
For a split second, Shane wonders if he ever looks like that. If he ever looks that hungry when he sees someone else. If people notice. He swallows, pushes the idea away, and meets the other girl's eyes.
"How about you, Olivia?"
"Ophelia," she corrects, and raises an eyebrow at him. Shane takes a drink to cover his embarrassment, but the warm beer makes him sputter. Going to a club is a humiliation ritual every time, even if you're a star athlete. Maybe especially if you are. He knows it doesn't bother other guys. There are tons of players with reputations for being fun at parties, even other guys who are also rookies, but that's never been Shane's thing. He should be in bed. But they'd won the game, and Hayden had looked at him with those big, pleading eyes, and he hadn't been able to say no.
"Sorry," Shane says, a beat too late, and Hayden claps him on the shoulder, trying to help save the situation. His hand is warm through Shane's shirt.
"Shane's a little shy," he explains, as if that's not obvious. It's also not really the problem, but Hayden doesn't know that. "Do you girls want to dance with us?"
"I'm hot," Ophelia complains, fanning herself. Her skin, light brown, dusted with some kind of gold shimmer, seems to glow in the lights. She is very pretty, despite her hot pink hair looking... kind of weird. Maybe it's a wig, actually. It looks like a wig. Oh, like the wig Natalie Portman wore in Closer. He looks again, and it does seem like the same kind, and that's kind of cool actually. He's thinking about the movie, which he saw on a flight a few months back, when Hayden snaps his fingers in front of Shane's eyes.
"The girls want to go back to the table. Lead the way, superstar."
Their table is upstairs in the balcony, a private-feeling booth with three high sides that go all the way to the ceiling. They can look over the whole club from here, but it's not that much cooler, since they're above the crowd. Heat rises. Shane feels closer to overheating himself, and when they get seated--him next to Hayden, Jackie next to Ophelia--he lifts a fresh glass of ice water to his flushed cheek to cool off.
"So how do you know each other?" Ophelia asks, which may have been a line, he's not sure. Shane gives Hayden a kind of questioning look, like, do you want to say anything, or...?
"Guess you could say we're work friends," Hayden says, laughing. Shane can't help but laugh too. Hayden's eyes crinkle a bit at the corners when he smiles, and that's... really cute. Shane likes his laugh.
Stop thinking about things you like about Hayden when he is clearly trying to pick up this girl, Shane chides himself fiercely. It's maybe forty percent effective.
"You're hockey players," Jackie says, clearly having at least heard of them. Or him. He's not sure. "You play here, right? For the Metros."
"We do," Shane says, glancing at Hayden out of the corner of his eye. "It's our first season."
"Aw, that's cute!" Jackie says warmly, leaning over the table. She exchanges some kind of look with Ophelia, who leans forward too, like she's going to tell a secret.
"Do you guys go out together a lot?"
"Not a lot," Shane is saying, while Hayden says, "All the time!" They look at each other and laugh.
"I don't go out a lot," Shane corrects. Hayden shrugs.
"Any time I can get him out of the house is a win in my book, though."
"So you're good friends?" Ophelia prompts, and smiles really big. Her teeth are all perfect, straight and white and shiny. Her lips look smooth and soft, but Shane can't help glancing at Hayden's, which are still a little swollen from getting hit in the mouth at a game three days ago. At least none of his teeth got broken.
"Best friends," they say at the same time, and Hayden meets his eyes for a second, smiling in that way that makes a shiver run down Shane's spine. Shane has to look away, taking a long drink from his water. It's cold going down his throat, which just reminds him how hot he is.
"Us too," Jackie says, soft. Then, on the table, she tangles a hand with Ophelia's, squeezing their fingers together. It's so... blatant. Sexy, in a weird way, the way Jackie skims her fingernails up the inside of Ophelia's arm, traces over her palm, slides her fingers in the gaps between Ophelia's. Her nails are short, rounded, painted black with little pink half-moons at the nail bed, in contrast to Ophelia's manicure, which was a dark blue on her pinkie and faded through purple to a light pink on her thumb, each finger a different color.
Hayden looks down at both of their hands, too, and then smiles at them, clearly picking up the same thing Shane is.
"That's great," he says, but Shane can hear the tension in his voice, all bravado. He presses his knee to Hayden's thigh, like a question, before he remembers himself and pulls away. But then, silent, Hayden's leg shifts to press against his again.
"You girls live here?" Hayden asks, but before the girls can answer, a waitress is dropping off glasses and a freshly opened bottle of champagne. She pours them very generously, and Shane takes a sip even though champagne over a win against Ottawa seems kind of crazy. It's way too much. If they hadn't stomped Ottawa he'd have wanted to lie down in traffic. The bubbles tickle his nose in a way that makes him snort, and cough, and then Hayden's rubbing his back gently and he can't help the way he blushes. How face is just going to be red all night apparently.
"We're local, yeah," Jackie says, grinning at the two of them. "Roommates, actually. It's so loud in here! You should both come back to our apartment. We can all chat and get to know each other better, there, right Phi?"
Ophelia nods, looking at them both expectantly. Hayden slides his hand to the back of Shane's neck and squeezes, a gentle signal that may as well be a plea. Shane forces himself to smile, and tries very hard to tell his dick that Hayden doesn't really mean that squeeze.
"Uh, sure. That sounds... great." It doesn't even sound like he's trying, but he guesses that doesn't really matter.
"Good," is all Ophelia says. Then she pulls Jackie's hand up to her mouth to press a kiss to the back of it. A lip print stains Jackie's skin. "We'll see you there then."
Hayden leads the way up the stairs, following the directions Jackie sent him via text. They’re actually not far from the club itself; they could have walked, if they’d wanted to, and weren’t worried about getting Hayden’s car until morning. The building is dark, mostly quiet, and not very tall. It’s not a part of town that Shane would particularly want to live in, but that’s mostly because of the distance to the practice rink and not really a comment on how nice it is. It’s probably nice. It’s probably great, if you’re 19 and within walking distance to a hot, popular club where athletes and movie stars sometimes show up. It’s probably—
“I can hear your brain spinning circles buddy,” Hayden says, a gentle chirp. Shane snorts.
“They’re, uh, really hot,” he says, lamely.
“Fuck yeah they are. Glad there’s one for each of u—wait, you like Ophelia, right? Like, that’s the one you…?”
Shane swallows. The one I want? No, I wouldn’t go that far.
“Sure, yeah, Ophelia’s hot. Really hot.”
“Yeah, she is,” Hayden says quickly. “That’s great, because her friend, you know—wow. Wow! So hot.”
“Yeah. Really great.”
It’s maybe the most painful conversation they’ve ever had. Normally it's so easy with Hayden. Half the time he doesn't even have to talk, because Hayden talks for both of them and has since pretty much day one. The other guys on the team thought they must have come from the same junior team at some point, but it wasn't like that at all. It was like, he met Hayden Pike at practice on the first day, and by the end of it, they were friends. Shane's never made a friend so fast in his life. Shane's barely ever made friends at all, not real friends, not like this. So it's very strange when he feels like Hayden is expecting him to say something else, but there's nothing to say.
Thankfully Shane is excused from having to come up with something because they’re at the top of the stairs and the girls’ door is right in front of them. There’s a little mat on the doorstep that says, “I mustache you to knock” and has a funny black mustache on it. It’s not cool, really, he'd never want something like that at his own place, but it does make him smile.
Jackie opens the door right as Hayden is about to knock, and gestures them in with a wine cooler already in her hand. Post-gaming, maybe. Is that what it’s called? That’s what Shane would call it. They enter, immediately noticing that both girls have ditched their clubwear in favor of tiny cotton shorts. Ophelia wears a sports bra, and her own dark hair up in a knot on top of her head, the pink wig nowhere to be found. Jackie has on a too-large t-shirt, so long it covers her shorts entirely, but her hair is still styled in curls like it was at the club, and both of them still have on all their make-up.
“Welcome, welcome, have a seat,” Jackie says, and Ophelia pats the couch next to her. Shane sits, awkward, but Ophelia doesn’t immediately make a move or anything. Actually, it’s kind of weird, because Jackie sits too.
In Ophelia’s lap.
“So you guys really only go out together?” Ophelia asks, eyeing Shane and Hayden like this is just normal behavior.
Shane’s not stupid. He’s heard that Katy Perry song. He knows sometimes women do this—even women who aren’t really into other women—to impress guys. But something about the way Ophelia wraps her arms around Jackie’s waist and puts her chin on Jackie’s shoulder makes him think this isn’t really for his benefit.
Which makes him glance again at Hayden, sitting on a floor cushion next to him, since there’s not much room on the little couch. Hayden isn't looking at him.
“I’m pretty focused on my game,” Shane says seriously, “but… yeah, when I go out, it’s always with Hayd. Uh, Hayden.”
“‘Hayd’? Oh my God, that’s so cute,” Jackie says, exchanging a look over her shoulder with Ophelia. It makes Shane’s face heat again, and he can feel the back of his neck, the tips of his ears. He knows they’re red as hell.
“Hockey’s got a lot of nicknames, you know,” Hayden says, slapping Shane on the thigh. His hand seems to linger there for a moment longer than it usually would, and Shane has to force himself to look at Ophelia instead, look at the way her small, pert breasts fill out the low-cut sports bra, the soft, flat line of her belly. There. That did it. No more sexy thoughts.
God, he’s fucked.
“So everyone calls you that?” Jackie asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” Shane answers, before Hayden can lie about it. “Most of them call him Pikey.”
“But you call him Hayd.” It’s not a question. Ophelia’s just staring at him. Her eyes are dark brown, like his, and it sort of feels like she can see into his mind, at least on the surface. Like he's transparent for a few layers. It's terrifying. She just watches him for a moment before putting a hand on Jackie’s chin and turning her, slowly, to face Ophelia instead of Shane. It’s not a shock when they kiss, though it feels a little like it should be. It just seems way more intimate than Shane was expecting. Less performative. More practiced.
He looks away, at Hayden, anywhere but where Ophelia is sliding her tongue into Jackie’s mouth, but Hayden is watching the two of them wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Shane takes a sip of his wine cooler. It’s bad. He’s got to stop drinking. Why did he let Hayden talk him into this? He clears his throat and Jackie laughs, lips still pressed to Ophelia’s.
Then she says, “We’re just friends. Don’t you ever kiss your friends?”
Shane’s heart beats like thunder in his ears. Kiss his friends? Well, sure! In his dreams. The wet ones. Hayden, specifically, even! He looks at Hayden, who’s giving him a kind of pleading look that Shane knows is code for, Please go with this bro, this girl is so hot!
“Uh, no?” He says, though it doesn’t sound entirely sure. He is entirely sure. He does not kiss his friends. That’s a one-way ticket to getting called a slur in the locker room for the rest of his career, and he literally just got here. It’s his rookie fucking season. All his friends are… in this room, actually, and that's a bit depressing. But… “I’m not like, opposed.”
“We think it’s hot,” Ophelia says, and kisses the corner of Jackie’s mouth. “To see guys kiss, I mean. Or girls. We’re not all that picky.”
“We both like both.”
No kidding. Of course they do. Despite trading kisses with her roommate, Shane can practically feel Jackie undressing Hayden with her eyes. She’s clearly into him. But would Hayden really be willing to—
“Both is good,” Hayden says, interrupting his thoughts. Shane looks at him in shock, but Hayden still isn’t looking at Shane, though his hand is on Shane's thigh, heavy and warm. “Both is hot. Like. What’s not to like, right?”
It sounds like a joke, but then Hayden does look at him, meet his eyes, and Shane’s mouth goes dry instantly. It doesn’t really feel like a joke.
“I think you should kiss,” Jackie says, looking between the two of them. “Right Phi?”
“Yeah, I bet you’d look really hot,” Ophelia encourages. One of her hands slides up Jackie’s shirt, and the confused welter of feelings welling up in Shane is actually getting worse, not better. He likes both, right? Of course he likes women, he has to like women, but he can acknowledge that he likes men too, sort of, when he’s alone, in the privacy of his own fucking bedroom.
But Hayden? Does Hayden actually like both?
Hayden stands up too fast, like he’s anxious, banging his shin against the glass-topped coffee table. He hisses in pain, and Shane finds himself making that same sound. He reaches out to rub Hayden’s leg, automatic, but then Hayden’s taking his hand and drawing him up, off the couch, until they’re just standing there together, looking at one another. Looking at one another’s mouths.
Hayden Pike has beautiful, clear blue eyes, and soft pink lips that are still just a bit puffy from having been punched recently, and broader shoulders than you might expect given his pretty slender waist. Shane’s hand finds his hip, and Hayden cups his face, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone.
“It’s okay, right, Shane?” Hayden asks, giving him a little smile. “Just a kiss.”
Shane’s not sure he’s breathing, but he nods, and then Hayden’s pressing his lips to Shane’s. They’re dry, a little chapped, and Shane’s trembling all over, unable to help it. He puts a hand on Hayden’s chest, holding himself steady, and he’s not sure if it’s that or if it’s their audience or if it’s just that Hayden is Hayden, his best friend, his favorite person, and maybe he knows, but then Hayden slides his tongue along the seam of Shane’s lips, and Shane opens for him, automatic again, like he’s just been waiting for the fucking opportunity.
Hayden’s tongue slides past his teeth, stroking his own, and then both his hands are on Shane’s face, holding him in place so he can plunder Shane’s mouth with a dizzying kiss. Shane’s heart pounds in his chest, he feels lightheaded, and he realizes really belatedly that his eyes are still open, that the fuzziness is just because Hayden is so close, their noses pressed together. He can feel the stubble around Hayden’s mouth, and he bites at Hayden’s lip, challenging, before remembering too late that Hayden’s mouth is still bruised. Hayden fists one hand in the longer hair at the back of Shane’s head and tugs, making him moan.
Humiliating. Their first kiss, with an audience, in some unknown girl’s apartment, and Shane is moaning because of Hayden’s hand in his hair. He’s never going to live this down. He’s never going to not be thinking about the way Hayden still tastes kind of like champagne, and his favorite icy mint gum. He’s never going to jerk off again without this scene playing a starring role in his fantasies. How’s he going to sleep in a hotel room with his best friend knowing he kisses like this?
Shane gasps and pulls away, wide-eyed and staring, the edges of his vision going a little grey. Hayden just looks at him, too, like he’s… realizing something. Like he knows something now.
“Fuck, um,” Shane starts. His breath is coming too fast, and he feels a little sick, but Hayden shakes his head and wraps him up in a hug, pulling him close to his chest.
“S’alright, Shaney,” he murmurs, and in the soft dark of Hayden’s neck, with his warm flannel against Shane’s face, the familiar smell of his cologne in Shane’s nose and his quiet voice in Shane’s ear… he believes it. It’s alright. They’re friends. No kiss is going to change that.
“Change of plans, lovelies,” Hayden says, keeping Shane’s face pressed there to his collar. “We’ve got practice early. I need to get this guy home, to rest.”
“That’s okay,” Jackie says quickly. Shane doesn’t think she’s moved from Ophelia’s lap anyway. “Text me sometime. We’re not going anywhere.”
“And we’d love to see you again,” Ophelia adds. Maybe unnecessarily, “Both of you.”
Shane nods, even though he’s still trapped under Hayden’s arm, and doesn’t particularly want to leave.
“We’ll be in touch,” Hayden promises. Shane’s not sure if he means it. He guesses it doesn’t really matter. “C’mon Hollzy. Time to head back out.”
They’re both quiet in the stairwell, but Hayden holds his hand the whole way down, like he’s afraid Shane will slip off into the parking lot alone without a hand on him. Maybe he would have. Maybe he’d have gotten a cab, or just walked, 3am across the whole city of Montreal just to try and forget the way his heart pounded faster during that kiss than it ever even did on the ice.
“It really is okay, Shane,” Hayden says, looking at him under the street lights.
“So… you knew, then.”
“Had my suspicions.”
“Can I ask why?”
“You’re my best friend. And even if you weren’t, you’re pretty obvious about what you like and what you don’t.” With his free hand, Hayden holds up a finger for each point. “Like, ginger ale. Dislike, alcohol. Like, getting crushed into the boards. Dislike, kissing beautiful women. Like, when I call you after a game, and dislike when I ask if you want to go out.”
“So you just put two and two together, huh?” Shane asks, his stomach churning. He feels like maybe he’s going to pass out, but Hayden won’t let go of his hand, and Shane can’t force himself to pull away.
“But you didn’t notice?” Hayden asks. They’re at his car now, and Hayden puts Shane between him and the passenger door. He steps close, one hand still wrapped around Shane’s, and the other caging him in. He has this soft, kind of rueful look on his face that Shane doesn’t understand, before he says, “‘Both is hot. What’s not to like?’”
“Are you serious?”
“I know I joke about everything, but I wouldn’t joke about that. Not with you, anyway.”
“Because I’m…” He can’t say it. He can’t even really think it. Hayden nods, though, so apparently he doesn’t need to.
“Nobody has to know,” Hayden says. “Unless you want ‘em to. About you, I mean.”
“I don’t. I don’t want them to.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Hayden laughs, though it sounds a little like a wheeze. “But that’s okay. We know. I know, now, right? So you don’t have to hide it, not from me.”
“And… what does that mean?” Shane asks, but he’s not looking Hayden in the eyes. He’s looking at his lips, soft and wet and so close to his face again. So close he could touch. His free hand finds Hayden’s side, not holding, just there. Hayden grins, one-sided and sweet.
“Well, it’s kind of up to you,” he says, “but it could mean away games are about to get a lot more fun.”
Shane can’t help the laugh that bubbles up out of him as he pulls Hayden down, down, into another kiss.
“Fuck you,” he murmurs, lips pressed to Hayden’s. Hayden’s grin widens, his breath hot over Shane’s face as he laughs, and kisses him, and laughs again.
“And here I was trying to be a gentleman, but if you want to be like that about it, then—yeah, Shane, fuck me. Or I’ll fuck you. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever you want, too,” Shane says, and it feels more like a promise than it sounds. Hayden kisses him, and kisses him, and when they finally make it back to Shane’s apartment, he has stubble burn on both his lips.
When they’re both at home, in their separate buildings, and the sun is going to be up way too soon, Shane’s phone vibrates in his hand, jolting him from a doze. He smiles as he opens the text, until he reads what Hayden sent.