Chapter Text
J.J. Boiziau had seen Shane Hollander look miserable before. After bad losses, mostly, or when he was overthinking something until his brain tied itself in knots. But this was different. This was a whole week of Shane dragging himself through practice like every drill was torture, barely speaking to anyone, disappearing the second they were dismissed.
Something had happened. J.J. didn't know what, but he knew his captain needed an intervention.
"Hollander, what the fuck are you doing right now?" J.J. demanded into his phone Friday night, already grabbing his keys.
There was a pause. J.J. could practically hear Shane sitting in his apartment, staring at nothing.
"Nothing. Why?"
"Bullshit! Get your ass to the Mile End, baby! My buddy François, the chef, you remember him?"
"Oh, yeah?"
J.J. grinned, already halfway to his car. "He's having an after hours thing at his restaurant. And get this—the cast of the X Squad movie they're filming in town is here."
"All of them?" Shane's voice perked up slightly, and J.J. felt victorious.
"I don't fucking know! Get down here! You remember the restaurant, right? Le Tambour?"
"I don't know..."
"Come on, man! When's the last time you left that apartment? Tonight you need to get out of your head!"
Forty minutes later, J.J. was holding court in the middle of Le Tambour's warmly lit dining room when Shane walked through the door. He looked tired, J.J. thought. Not physically exhausted, but emotionally wrung out. His shoulders were tight, his jaw set in that way that meant he was forcing himself to be here.
"Yes, you bitch! Good to see you!" J.J. pulled Shane into a one-armed hug, slapping his back. "OK, guys, this one never leaves his fucking house. Tonight is a miracle! Shane, come on."
Shane managed a tight smile, nodding at the various people J.J. gestured toward. J.J. kept one hand on Shane's shoulder, steering him through the crowd.
"Go get a drink," J.J. said, giving Shane a gentle push toward the bar. "Relax a little, yeah?"
Shane nodded and made his way to the bar. J.J. watched him go, then turned back to his conversation with one of the production assistants, though his attention kept drifting back to Shane.
About ten minutes later, J.J. wandered back over to check on him. The bartender (a good-looking guy with dark skin and an easy smile) was chatting with Shane as he poured drinks.
"Shane Hollander can have whatever he wants," the bartender was saying, setting a beer down with a flourish.
Shane looked flustered, pushing a ten across the bar. "Thanks. You keep it then."
"It's an honor," the bartender said warmly.
"Cool crowd, huh?" J.J. said, sliding onto the stool next to Shane.
"Yeah," Shane said, but he wasn't looking at the crowd. He was staring at his beer.
"You kidding? A bunch of famous actors are here tonight. Rose Landry's here, man."
Shane's head snapped up. "She is?"
"Yeah." J.J. grinned. "She's over by the fritters, I think. You should go say hi."
"I might be needing another one of these," Shane said to the bartender, gesturing at his barely touched beer.
The bartender laughed, and J.J. watched the exchange with interest. There was something in the way the bartender looked at Shane. Something hopeful.
J.J. let Shane sit there for a few more minutes, then watched as Shane's eyes found Rose Landry across the room. He saw Shane take a breath, steel himself, and head over.
J.J. turned back to the bar, and the bartender was still watching Shane.
"So," the bartender said casually. "Your boy Shane. He single?"
J.J.'s eyebrows rose. "I couldn't say."
"Come on, man." The bartender leaned against the bar. "I'm trying to figure out if I should be hoping here."
J.J. glanced at Shane, now sitting across from Rose. "Is he into guys?"
J.J. opened his mouth to say no automatically. Of course not. Shane dated women. Shane was straight. But the word stuck in his throat.
Because when had Shane ever actually dated anyone seriously? J.J. had heard about a girl or two before Shane's rookie season, but in all the years they'd known each other, J.J. had never seen Shane date anyone. There were occasionally women at team events, but never the same one twice. Never anyone who stuck around.
"I..." J.J. paused. "I don't know, actually."
The bartender's smile was knowing. "Might want to find out."
J.J. spent the next hour circulating, doing what he did best: talking, laughing, making everyone feel welcome. But part of his attention stayed on Shane.
Shane and Rose talked for what must have been two hours straight. J.J. watched them lean in close, watched Rose's expression go soft and understanding, watched Shane's shoulders gradually relax. They looked comfortable together, natural even.
But not romantic. There was something about it that felt more like... friendship? Camaraderie?
Around eleven, the party started winding down. J.J. made his way over as Rose was gathering her things.
"This was really nice, Shane," Rose was saying. "Let's do it again sometime?"
"Yeah," Shane said, and he actually smiled. A real smile. "I'd like that."
They exchanged numbers, and Rose kissed Shane's cheek before heading out. Shane watched her go with a soft expression, and when he turned back to J.J., he looked lighter than he had all week.
"Good time?" J.J. asked as they headed for the door.
"Yeah, actually." Shane's smile was genuine. "Really good. Thanks for dragging me out."
"That's what I'm here for, man."
They stepped out into the cold Montreal night, breath fogging in the air. J.J.'s car was parked a block away, Shane's SUV right out front.
"You need a ride?" Shane asked.
"Nah, I'm good. You okay to drive?"
"I had one beer three hours ago. I'm fine."
They stood there for a moment in comfortable silence. J.J. wanted to ask what had Shane so miserable this week, but he knew pushing would just make Shane shut down.
"Hey," J.J. said instead. "That bartender was asking about you."
Shane blinked. "What about me?"
"If you were single. If you were into guys."
Something flickered across Shane's face. Surprise, maybe. Panic. "Oh."
"So?" J.J. kept his tone light, curious. "Are you? Into guys?"
"I..." Shane's jaw worked. "I should go. Thanks again for tonight, J.J."
He was in his SUV and pulling away before J.J. could say anything else.
J.J. stood there on the sidewalk, watching Shane's taillights disappear. That was not a straight guy's reaction to being asked if he was into men. That was panic. That was someone who'd been asked a question they didn't know how to answer.
Or didn't want to answer.
J.J. walked back to his car, his mind spinning. He thought about the bartender's question. Thought about Shane's week of misery. Thought about how Shane had looked at Rose tonight—fond and grateful but not attracted.
Thought about seven years of friendship and how little he actually knew about Shane's romantic life.
"Huh," J.J. said to himself as he climbed into his car.
He sat there for a moment before pulling out his phone. Scrolled through his texts with Shane, looking for... he didn't know what. Evidence? Clues?
But there was nothing. Just hockey talk and plans to grab food and the occasional meme.
J.J. started his car and headed home, but his mind wouldn't let it go. The bartender's hopeful expression. Shane's panic. The way Shane had relaxed with Rose but not in a way that suggested attraction.
And underneath all of that, something else. Something J.J. didn't want to examine too closely.
The way he'd been watching Shane tonight. Really watching him. The line of his shoulders. The way his hair fell across his forehead. The small smile when Rose made him laugh.
J.J. had always known Shane was good-looking. You'd have to be blind not to notice. But tonight he'd been noticing in a different way. Paying attention in a way that felt less like aesthetic appreciation and more like...
No. J.J. shook his head, turning up the radio to drown out his thoughts.
He was just worried about his friend. That was all. Just being a good teammate, a good captain.
That was all it was.
It had to be.