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Harris: Hey Katy, I know we were supposed to talk at lunch today, but I’m gonna have to postpone.
Harris: Kind of got an “All Hands on Deck” situation at work going on and my day’s barely started. 😓
Katy: What’s up, Big Shoots? You guys almost die in a plane crash again?
Harris: Not funny!
Harris: …okay, maybe a little funny.
Katy: Near Tragedy + Time = Comedy
Katy: Still, how bad is it?
Harris: Not bad for me, but pretty bad for Ilya. And Shane Hollander too, I guess.
Harris: hockeygoss.com/shane-hollander-ilya-rozanov-kissing
Katy: Oh shit.
Harris: Yeah…… 😵💫😵💫😵💫
Katy: …Man, they are really going for it.
—
“Man, they are really going for it,” Jonesy said, looking at his phone with confusion.
Reilly looked confused as he sat next to Jonesy on the weight bench. “But… doesn’t Rozy have like a ton of big city slams? I’ve seen so many of those snipes on NHL Tracker…”
“So many snipes,” Jonesy mused.
“Maybe Ilya Rozanov has been growing a few beards along the way.”
The two turned to see Ronsy and Daxy looking over their shoulders to the video on their phones, a hungry look in their eyes. Reilly felt even more confused now. “I mean, he’s had a playoff beard a few times.”
Ronsy let out a laugh. “No, not that kind of beard.”
“Though what a great beard that was,” Daxy interjected. “Wouldn’t mind that beard warming up my South Pole.”
“Wouldn’t mind that beard against my Grand Canyon,” Ronsy retorted.
Daxy smirked in return. “Wouldn’t mind that beard against my Andes Mountain Range.”
Ronsy smirked back before looking back at Reilly and Jonesy. “But no, a Beard is when a gay man has a woman he pretends to date in order to look less gay.”
“Looks like Shane Hollander might have been doing that with Rose Landry,” Daxy said. “Wouldn’t mind seeing that Beard’s Appalachian mountain range.”
“Wouldn’t mind seeing that Beard’s Volvo A60H.”
Reilly looked up at the ceiling, trying to put two and two together. “So… Rozy’s slams weren’t slams?”
“Eh, they could still be slams,” Ronsy said. “Maybe Ilya Rozanov is gettin’ bi.”
Daxy grinned and crossed his arms. “Maybe he’s NSYNC hit ‘Bi Bi Bi.’”
“Maybe he’s Michelle Branch’s ‘Good-bi to You.’”
“Maybe he’s Red Hot Chili Peppers’ ‘Bi The Way.’”
Jonesy looked even more confused. “...What?”
Ronsy and Daxy sighed and rolled their eyes in unison. “Maybe he’s bisexual.”
Reilly and Jonesy let out an “Ohhhhh…” as the slow realization of what that meant came over them.
“Now what’s this about bisexuals,” piped in Glen’s voice, seemingly popping up from nowhere half dressed for church and half dressed for the gym. “Are we talkin’ fitspo again?”
“Uh… no,” Reilly said, holding out his phone to show Glen the video and hoping to avoid whatever gay porno mags Glen kept around for “fitspo.” “We were talking about this.”
Glen took the phone with interest as Jonesy started to explain. “Y’see, these two are big NHL stars and we thought they had some serious slams, but…”
Before Jonesy could finish, Glen gasped and covered his mouth. “My goodness… They’re really going for it.”
“Yeah,” Reilly said slowly, still uncertain how to process any of this.
“I’m gonna tell you though,” Glen said, adjusting his glasses. “The direction in this video is abysmal.” He then lowered his voice somewhat conspiratorially with a grin. “But they certainly got chemistry.”
Reilly and Jonesy looked at each other and silently decided it wasn’t worth the response.
—
“Wow… they are really goin’ for it,” Dary said, passing the phone back to Katy and leaning back into his lawn chair.
“Yep,” she said, taking the phone back and sliding it into her pocket. “That’s what I said.”
“So that’s why Cousin Harris couldn’t call for lunch today,” Wayne asked after taking a pull from his cigarette.
“Yep,” Katy sighed as she leaned back on the lounge she usually occupied. “Apparently it was ‘all hands on deck’ because the commissioner threw a shitfit.”
“Now why would the commissioners throw a shitfits,” Squirrelly Dan asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. “Don’t think that kiss was holding any trade secretses or game strategies.”
“I didn’t really ask,” Katy said, looking forward. “But he sounds like a homophobic old fossil anyway, so that probably had something to do with it.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Wayne muttered, looking towards the ground.
“So like… I can see they’re kissin’ in that clip,” Dary asked. “But you really think they’re doin’… other stuff?”
Wayne looked over at Dary incredulously. “How ya mean?”
Dary shrugged, not certain of his point now. “I mean, I know the hockey players talk about pranks sometimes. Maybe it's something like that?”
A silence fell over the group for a few long moments before Wayne took a sip of his Puppers and answered, “Y’know Dary, I don’t know much about kissin’ men, but I don’t think you kiss someone else like that if you’re not throwin’ some hip too.”
Katy let out a wistful sigh. “Can confirm.”
Squirrelly Dan nodded sagely. “That definitelys was a hip throwin’ kiss. No doubts about it.”
Dary just looked at the ground, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Hm… how ‘bout that?”
—
“Oh my god, those guys are really going for it,” Roald said, his words seeming to come out in one breath.
“I didn't think Shane Hollander had it in him, honestly,” Stewart said airily.
Roald turned to Stewart confused. “Stewart?”
Stewart just stared back, refusing to elaborate. “You heard me.”
Somehow, Reilly and Jonesy found themselves surrounded at MoDean’s by the Skids along with the -Annes from the Shamrockettes as they watched the video of Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander for what felt like the millionth time today. They hadn’t meant to attract the Skids when they asked Betty-, Lucy-, and Mary-Anne for their thoughts on it, but here they were, as usual.
Still, maybe the girls had thoughts. Women’s hockey was… different.
“So why do you want our thoughts on this,” Mary-Anne asked, looking at the two of them skeptically.
Reilly and Jonesy looked at each other, uncertain of how to proceed. Finally, Jonesy took a breath. “Well, is it…”
A pause hung for a second before Reilly decided to fill in the blanks with “…Weird?”
Roald gasped dramatically. “What?! Why are two men kissing weird?!”
Quickly, Reilly and Jonesy waved their hands, peppering them with repeated and increasingly loud instances of “no.”
“It’s not that,” Jonesy said. “Is it weird that they’re rivals doing… that.”
“Not at all,” Mary-Anne said matter of factly.
“That’s right, Mary-Anne,” Betty-Anne added with the same matter of fact tone. “In fact, it’s foundational to women’s hockey.”
“Very true, Betty-Anne,” Lucy-Anne said with a solemn nod. “Women’s hockey players have been trailblazers in this arena for years.”
“What, really,” Jonesy asked, genuine curiosity filtering through his voice.
“It’s true,” Mary-Anne said, taking a sip of her beer then looking forward. “Meghan Duggan from Team USA and Gillian Apps from Team Canada are married. They have played against each other for years, both with the #10 on their jersey and a collective four Olympic golds and two silver between them.”
Reilly smirked at that. “Are the silvers Team USA’s?”
“They’re certainly not Canada’s,” Mary-Anne responded.
“Right you are, Mary-Anne,” Betty-Anne picked up as she took a sip from her own beer. “But that’s nothing compared to Team Canada icon and Hall of Famer Jayna Hefford and Team USA’s Katherine Kauth. They have 3 beautiful children, and four Olympic golds, a silver, and a bronze between them.”
Jonesy also felt himself smirking as the story poured out of her. “Is the bronze Team USA’s?”
Betty-Anne scoffed. “It’s certainly not Canada’s.”
“Both of you are correct,” Lucy-Anne quipped before taking a long sip of her beer. “But nothing compares to the love story and the rivalry of Team USA’s Julie Chu and Team Canada’s Caroline Oullette. Captains in three consecutive Olympic Games with the #13 on their back, they kept their relationship hidden for years until the birth of their first child, Liv. Four Olympic golds and four silvers between them.”
Reilly and Jonesy turned towards each other conspiratorially before turning back to Lucy-Anne with shit-eating grins. In unison, they asked, “Are any of those silvers Team USA’s?”
Lucy-Anne grinned over at Betty- and Mary-Anne, who joined in with their own reply of “They’re certainly not Canada’s.”
Reilly and Jonesy let out a whoop and high fived each other, beaming with Canadian hockey pride. However, this was quickly chased with Reilly having another straight thought. “Wait, so can like… if all these girls can play against their biggest rival and still get married, does that mean they can play on the same team too if they want?”
A scoff emanated from Stewart and the entire table turned to him in surprise. Roald tilted his head like a confused dog. “Stewart?”
Stewart rolled his eyes, not believing any of this. “What about Captain Clutch herself, Marie-Philip Poulin? She’s literally a Team Canada linemate with her partner Laura Stacey, who she literally locked eyes with after seeing the same shooting star at 2 a.m. while skinny dipping, literally sealing their fate into the stars?”
The entire table stared at Stewart in stunned silence. Stewart shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “What?”
“Stewaaaart,” Roald said, leaning on his hand with a cheesy grin. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”
A blush appeared to creep up into Stewart’s face as he turned away from the table. “Shut up, Roald.”
—
Katy stepped out onto the porch as the sun was starting to go down, wrapping herself in a hoodie as she sat on the steps and answered her cell phone. “Hey Harris.”
“Hey Katy,” Harris droned, the deep exhaustion evident in his voice.
“That bad, huh?”
“Still not as bad as almost dying in a plane crash, but pretty bad.”
“See, it can be funny.”
Harris let out a short laugh. “I guess.”
“What’s really on your mind though,” she asked, pushing the toe of her shoe against the dirt.
“I don’t know, Katy,” Harris said, “Like getting slammed with all these media inquiries and Tweets and comments is bad enough while trying to craft the perfect statement for the moment that is absolutely not going to make anyone happy right now and I would love nothing more than to go to sleep in my boyfriend’s arms, but he’s on the road right now.”
“So why are you talking to me instead of Troy? Not that I don’t appreciate your calls…”
“Don’t worry, I’m calling him later,” Harris sighed. “You know what’s the worst part about all of this though? I just feel awful for Ilya.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” she said. “I don’t typically feel bad for hockey players, but he doesn’t deserve that.”
“Fuckin’ Brad,” Harris muttered.
“Fuckin’ Brad,” Katy echoed, loud enough that she heard a slight reverb off the screen door.
“Like no one deserves to be outed like that at all, but Ilya is such a good guy despite what everyone says about him. I just hope he’s okay.”
“Have you heard from him at all?”
“I texted him. I felt like it was the least I could do since his entire life blew up over this stupid Fanmail video and now he’s being benched by a dinosaur who has never felt love in his life ever, but he hasn’t responded. Which I probably should have expected.”
“Give him time,” Katy said gently. “Maybe he just ran off into the arms of his man for the time being. He’ll resurface when he’s ready and needs friends. Just… be there when he’s ready for you.”
Harris let out a bit of a laugh. “You think he ran off to Shane’s place?”
Katy couldn’t help but smile. “I saw the video. Where else would he run to?”
—
“Why are you two watching that video?”
Reilly and Jonesy looked up at Katy from their spot in the backseat. They hadn’t planned on her driving them to beer league tonight, but they had already gotten a bit too sloshed at MoDean’s and knew it would be smarter for her to DD them. She agreed, but already made them promise to help Wayne pick stones next Sunday. Not ideal, but hey, more beer.
Now though, under her steely gaze, they just felt embarrassed.
Reilly cleared his throat first. “I don’t know, it’s just… interesting.”
Katy briefly raised an eyebrow, but then turned back around as she turned the engine on in the truck and started her drive over to the rink. “You know they didn’t consent to that video being out there. It’s just as bad as spreading a girl’s nudes around to your friends.”
“We know,” Jonesy said, guilt in his voice as he shoved his phone into his pocket away from Katy’s sight. “It’s just a lot to think about.”
“You wanna elaborate on that,” she asked, her eyes cast to the rearview.
“Well, like, sure, we can see Rozy and Hollander going for it in the video, but we know Rozy has had all these incredible big city slams over the years… And sure, he’s got that charity with Hollander, but they still got all that beef…”
“Though you can still have a rivalry with your loved ones,” Reilly mused. “Women’s hockey in Canada is apparently built on it.”
“But that being said,” Jonesy replied with a hiss. “Are we sure it isn’t a prank?”
Katy at that moment decided to hit the brakes a little harder than usual at the red light, causing the two of them to yelp as their chests pushed against the pull of their seatbelts. “I already had this discussion with Dary today, but at what point would you have ever thought to passionately make out with another hockey player to prank a teammate?”
Both Reilly and Jonesy opened their mouths for a reply, but quickly closed them as they looked at each other, searching for a response. Finally, Jonesy looked towards Katy’s eyes in the rearview. “I guess never?”
“Then there’s your answer.”
Another awkward silence fell over the truck as the light turned green and Katy pulled forward. ‘Ahead by a Century’ by The Tragically Hip lightly played on the radio as Katy focused on her drive. After a minute or so of Gord Downie’s voice washing over them, Jonesy looked back towards Katy. “Sorry Katy.”
“What for, Jonesy,” she asked, her eyes back towards him in the rear view.
“I don’t know, I felt like I just needed to say it.”
“Yeah,” Reilly added slowly, “Me too. Sorry Katy.”
She sighed as she flipped on her turn signal and made a left. “It’s alright, boys. It’s just been a long day.”
Another pause as the song finished and the DJ prattled on about the weather. Finally, Katy decided to extend an olive branch to the boys. “You know my cousin is dating Troy Barrett, right?”
That seemed to perk them right up. “What, really,” Reilly asked happily.
“Yep,” she said as she turned into the rink’s parking lot. “He does socials for the Centaurs and everything.”
“Why didn’t you mention it before, Katy,” Jonesy asked, leaning forward.
Katy pulled next to the curb and put the truck in park. “Because I was worried you two would be weird about it.”
Reilly and Jonesy looked at each other with confusion, then back at her. “Are we weird,” they asked in unison.
“Yes,” Katy said, looking back at them. “You are. Though, I can tell you more about Harris later after your game if you want.”
A smile crossed her face and the boys couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Will you tell us about Troy too,” Jonesy asked.
“Don’t push your luck,” Katy replied as she unlocked the door. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
—
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Dary snapped out of his reverie as he looked up at Bonnie behind the bar, leaning over in curiosity.
Oh Bonnie McMurray, the prettiest girl in Letterkenny. She had definitely occupied his thoughts many times before and she probably would many times again if he was being honest with himself.
But not today.
“Say Bonnie,” Dary mused, leaning his chin against one hand while the other picked at the label on his bottle of Puppers. “Have you ever thought about… going for it with someone you really shouldn’t?”
“God, I’ve heard that phrase so much today,” she said with a laugh. “Were you watching that video of Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander too?”
Dary felt slightly taken aback. “Well, yeah, but Katy brought it up first since her cousint works for the Centaurs and all that.”
“Oh yeah, I know Harris too,” she mused. She reached under the bar and grabbed her own Puppers, twisting off the cap without looking away from Dary. “Used to come over and play with him and Katy in the summers sometimes. We’ll be stocking his family’s cider at the bar soon.”
“Isn’t that right?”
Bonnie made a noise of confirmation as she took a swig from her beer. Dary’s face cracked into a pleasant smile. “Well, it would be nice to support Katy’s family and get a little more culture around here then.”
“Okay, enough about the Drovers,” Bonnie said as she put her beer back down on the bar. “Who are you thinking about kissing that you shouldn’t? Do we need to scare you off Anik again?”
Dary sighed. He definitely didn’t need to be thinking about her right now either. “No, nothing that severe.”
“Then who,” Bonnie asked.
Dary looked down at the bar, rubbing at his knuckles. He then looked over at the dance floor while a dreamy pop song played on the speakers. Bonnie’s eyes followed. There were some people on the dance floor, but the main attraction was definitely Rosie and Wayne sharing their own slow dance in the center of it all.
Bonnie then leaned in closer to Dary, dropping her voice to make sure no one else could hear them over the music. Especially not Glen. Bad gas travels fast in a small town and all that. “Who, Rosie? Cause that’s definitely not gonna happen while her and Wayne are a thing.”
Dary shook his head. “No, not her. Though she is very pretty and I definitely wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers…”
Bonnie’s eyes scanned the dancefloor again, trying to piece who Dary was even talking about. There were a few girls from further out of the town center she didn’t know. Tanis and Shania were laughing in the corner about something, but she didn’t think Dary was into either of them like that. “Then who, cause if you’re talking about me ag-”
Then, it clicked into place as her eyes fell back on Wayne and Rosie.
Bonnie’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she looked back at Dary. “No.”
Dary just nodded solemnly and let out a sigh. “Yeah.”
A stunned silence fell between the two of them as they watched Wayne and Rosie on the dance floor. Mostly Wayne as he whispered something into Rosie’s ear that made her laugh. That caused the two of them to sigh in unison.
Bonnie then looked back over to Dary with a sympathetic gaze. “Honestly? Been there.”
Dary gave a sad smirk as he looked back over at her. “Figured you might understand.”
Bonnie put her hand over Dary’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Well, if he and Rosie break up again, maybe one of us stands a chance.”
That made Dary smile. “Yeah, maybe.”
“And if not,” she mused, rubbing her thumb gently over his knuckles. “Maybe we can just cry about it together at their wedding.”
Dary couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he swiped at his eye with his free hand. “Yeah, maybe that too.”
The two of them pulled their hands away from each other. Bonnie then held up her bottle towards Dary, who picked up his own. They clinked the necks together in a toast before knocking back. On a more usual night, Dary would try to take a chance with Bonnie in their usual endless circle of on again-off again flirtation.
But it was not a usual night and this moment of commiseration didn’t need further words at the moment.
Dary looked back at the dance floor and watched as Wayne crossed to the door to go have a dart outside. Someone more bold and sure would follow, but he wasn’t that. Not usually. Especially not tonight.
Instead, he just sighed and took another swig.
—
“What the fuck are you two swollen nutsacks watching? Did Hayden Pike finally respond to your Fanmail request to let you know you could be a real hockey player when you grow up if you wish hard enough?”
Reilly and Jonesy groaned as that voice hit their ears. “Oh fuck you, Shoresy,” Jonesy spat as he looked up from his phone while the two of them sat outside the rink, waiting for Katy to come pick them up from beer league. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Sudbury anyway?”
“Yeah, heard you guys are last place in the NOSHO,” Reilly retorted with a smirk. “Bulldogs had to put you down already?”
“You crossin’ that Rainbow Bridge back into Letterkenny, Shoresy,” Jonesy chirped, looking at Reilly conspiratorially.
Shoresy just dropped his bag and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed as a mischievous smile crossed his face. “Oh Jonesy, I asked your mum the same thing last night when she was cumming so hard, I thought her heart was about to give out. I know all dogs go to heaven, but I wasn’t ready to let her go yet.”
Well, here it went. Reilly tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but it was no use. “Fuck you, Shoresy!”
Shoresy pretended to inspect his nails, clearly unmoved. “Fuck you, Reilly. I had to come back to pick up my shit from your mum’s place, but I had to army crawl out of there before she made me re-enact Edge and Lita’s live sex celebration on VidVok.”
Jonesy felt a vein throb in his forehead. God, he did not miss this fucker. “Fuck you, Shoresy!”
“Fuck you, Jonesy. I couldn’t even get my shit from your mum’s place cause she keeps wanting to re-enact that time Vince McMahon made Trish Stratus bark like a dog. She’s a Canadian icon, have some respect!”
Jonesy tried to advance towards Shoresy, but Reilly held him back before yelling, “Fuck you, Shoresy!”
“Fuck you, Reilly. I don’t even want to know what the fuck your mum had in mind when she said she wanted to re-enact Katie Vick!”
This time it was Jonesy turn to hold back Reilly as the two of them got extremely flustered before shouting “FUCK” in unison and slumping back against the wall, stifling back angry tears.
Shoresy just laughed to himself as he checked his phone. A silence fell between the three of them for a long moment before Shoresy looked back over at them. “Seriously though, what the fuck have you two losers been watching all night? Dealing with you tonight has been like watching two overgrown iPad babies lose their brain cells to Cocomelon or some shit. So dumb…”
Reilly looked over at Shoresy, confused. “Did you not see the video of Hollander and Rozy?”
Shoresy snorted. “What, did those two finally act on their decade plus of sexual tension?”
Jonesy and Reilly looked at each other, then back at Shoresy. “Uh, kind of,” Jonesy answered with a shrug.
Shoresy stared at them for a second before his eyes widened. “Wait, are you kidding?!”
Reilly opened his mouth to respond. “N-“
“Huh?!”
Reilly and Jonesy sighed in frustration, but Reilly decided to move forward. “No, we’re not.”
Shoresy quickly fished his phone back out of his hoodie pocket and furiously typed something on there. Within seconds, Reilly and Jonesy saw Shoresy’s jaw drop as the video played. “Ho-ly fuck.”
“I know,” Reilly said, tentatively testing this truce between the three of them. “Crazy right?”
“Yeah, somehow Pike looks even more like a dumb cunt than I remember,” Shoresy laughed as he watched the screen.
Okay, that wasn’t the response either of them were expecting.
Then, quickly, they watched as Shoresy’s eyes widened again before his face softened a bit. “Wow, they’re really going for it.”
That was even less expected. “Uh, yeah,” Jonesy responded. “We said the same thing.”
“Huh… good for them,” he said quietly as he put his phone to sleep and slipped it back into his hoodie pocket. “I guess it’s nice that Scott Hunter and Troy Barrett aren’t alone.”
Reilly and Jonesy looked at each other with some concern and confusion. Was Shoresy being… nice?
Before they could address it, Shoresy stood up straighter and looked back over at them. “Wait, you two were watching a clip of two NHL players making out all night?”
Nope, there he was. There was the Shoresy they had the dubious honor of knowing. “Well, not all night,” Reilly said as he contemplated the statement. “We still had to play hockey.”
“We were watching it earlier though,” Jonesy added, “At the gym. And MoDean’s. And Katy’s car while she drove us here, but she said she didn’t want to talk about it.”
Shoresy blinked at them for a few seconds in disbelief. “You two have been watching a clip of two NHL players making out all day?!”
Reilly and Jonesy looked at each other, suddenly feeling embarrassed and not really understanding why. “I guess we did,” Jonesy mused, looking towards the ground.
Another silence before Shoresy rubbed at his eyebrow and closed his eyes like he was counting to ten. “You realize how incredibly gay that sounds, right?”
“Don’t know if you can say that, bud,” Jonesy said, his voice low and unsure.
Shoresy rolled his eyes. “I have a lesbian sister, it’s fine.”
“Don’t think that’s how that works,” Reilly mused. “But like… we were just confused ‘cause Rozy’s had so many snipes in the past.”
“Well, I’ve heard that bisexuality is a thing.”
“That’s what Ronsy and Daxy said,” Jonesy responded as he weighed the next option with his hands. “Then we wondered if it was weird to like… kiss your rival.”
“I don’t know, I managed to play on a line and win a ‘ship with you two idiots and I hate you both, so I can imagine you can reverse that.”
Reilly let out a frustrated huff, but Jonesy pressed forward. “Well, that’s kind of what Betty-, Mary-, and Lucy-Anne said.”
“Well yeah, ‘cause women’s hockey is a sport full of lesbians and I think Catherine Oulette would rather lick the side of the Biodome in the middle of winter than let Julie Chu win at hockey.”
“Still don’t think you can say that, bud,” Reilly muttered.
“And once again, lesbian sister.”
Reilly and Jonesy were still unsure, but they didn’t know enough about lesbians to respond. Jonesy spoke up with, “And then we briefly wondered if it was a prank…”
Shoresy continued to stare incredulously. “I can’t say the thought of pranking a teammate by sticking my tongue down another teammate’s throat like I’m digging for gold has ever occurred to me.”
“That’s what Katy said,” Reilly said with a nod. “Plus apparently her cousin works for the Centaurs and is dating Troy Barrett.”
“Yeahso, he’d probably know then…”
Reilly and Jonesy made skeptical noises in response, but Shoresy just groaned. “Look, I’m just saying if you’re watching a clip that much of two NHL players just absolutely going for it like two teenagers at a bush party…”
He stared at Reilly and Jonesy, who stared back at him dumbfounded. A long silence followed before Reilly finally said, “That we’re really interested in… player dynamics?”
Shoresy sighed and held his arms up, not certain of what to even say at this point. Finally, he just rubbed his eyes and muttered, “Jesus Christ, so dumb…”
Finally, a lightbulb seemed to flicker on in Jonesy’s head. “Wait, are you saying that… we want to go for it?”
The two of them looked at each other, then seemed to look away shyly as a strange feeling grew in their chests. They didn’t really want to go for it…
…did they?
“YES,” Shoresy shouted, breaking the tension, “Ho-ly fuck. For YEARS, I feel like the two have been wanting to go for it harder than Jonesy’s mum made my dick when she tongued my balls last night.”
“Hey, fuck you, Shoresy,” shouted Reilly, forgetting any embarrassment he felt a second before.
“Fuck you, Reilly. I made your mum call me Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart because I’m the best there is, the best there was, and the best she’ll ever have in bed.”
Jonesy gritted his teeth. “Fuck you, Shoresy!”
“Fuck you, Jonesy. Your mum calls me Chris Jericho cause I was breaking her pelvic wall down.”
Jonesy tried to advance on him again, but Reilly held him back more aggressively this time. “Fuck you, Shoresy,” he shouted, his voice cracking.
“Fuck you, Reilly. Your mum keeps trying to call me ‘Hot Rod,’ but I’m worried that her memory is going and she might be thinking about that time she fucked Rowdy Roddy Piper in the 70s instead. You should really take her to the doctor. They might also be able to do something about her mitt smelling like the men’s room at Scotiabank Arena.”
The two of them finally gave up, tears in their eyes as they let out a resigned “FUCK” in unison.
Before they could say anything else, a black Jeep pulled up into the lot and honked its horn. Shoresy chuckled as he picked up his bag. “Well, that’s my ride. Time to go back to playing senior whaleshit hockey while you two still can’t win at beer league.”
Jonesy sniffed and wiped at his nose. “You’re still regularly getting pumped five to six-goose, bud.”
Shoresy pursed his lips for a second, but then seemed to relax his shoulders as he took a breath in. “Yeah, well, better five to six-goose in the NOSHO than five to six-goose in Letterkenny Beer League.”
The horn honked again and Shoresy’s attempt at calm seemed to disappear immediately. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up Sanguinet! I’m coming! Christ…”
He turned back to Reilly and Jonesy, hitching up his bag. If they didn’t know any better, they would say that his face looked… soft. “Well… bye, you fuckin’ losers. Hope you go for it.”
The two of them blinked as they looked at each other, once again feeling that ache in their chests. Almost immediately, Reilly shook out his head and looked back towards Shoresy. “Uh… thanks?”
Shoresy smirked as he turned away from them. “Yeah, well, anything to get your mums off my back about how you two can’t get your shit together. It really kills the mood thinking about your sad lives while getting a post-pho squeezer.”
Before they could say anything else, the horn honked again and Shoresy threw up his hands as he started walking towards the car. “I said I was coming, Sanguinet! Give your balls a tug!”
As Shoresy jogged off, Katy’s truck pulled up against the curb. Reilly and Jonesy wiped their eyes the best they could before picking up their gear and throwing it into the back of the truck. When they opened the door, Katy looked over with concern. “Shoresy chirp you about your moms again?”
Reilly tried to wipe his eyes again, but Jonesy just sighed as he slid in the truck. “I don’t know how he keeps doing it.”
“Yeah, well,” Katy said as she adjusted the rear view mirror and watched as the Jeep driving Shoresy drove off into the night. “Maybe Sudbury will calm him down a bit eventually.”
“Maybe,” Reilly mused as he closed the door, already thinking about how different that conversation with Shoresy was than it had been in the past. He then looked at Jonesy before looking back at Katy, that same feeling in his chest. “Hey, uh… Katy-Kat…”
She turned her head over her shoulder to get a better look at them. “Yeah?”
“Do… uh… do you think me and Jonesy need to… go for it?”
Katy paused before she unbuckled her seat belt to turn all the way around to look at them. “What, like Hollander and Rozanov?”
Jonesy turned his head away towards the window. “I mean, I guess…”
Katy looked at him incredulously. “So… what were those times when we were all dating then?”
Jonesy flushed and tried to sink down further into the car seat. “Th-that doesn’t count!”
Katy crossed her arms, exacting her stare at him. “How? I definitely remember you two…”
“Well,” Reilly interrupted, not wanting to revisit those memories right at this second. He definitely looked equally as flustered though. “We were dating you, not dating each other.”
Katy considered this for a second, then shrugged. “Don’t think there’s much of a difference, Big Shoots.”
Reilly and Jonesy looked back at each other. Jonesy straightened back out some, but still looked flustered by the whole thing. Reilly just felt even more confused than before. Without breaking eye contact with Jonesy, he asked Katy, “So… are you saying we already have?”
Katy let out a small laugh as she turned back around in her seat. “No, I’m saying that maybe you two should talk about certain things?”
She buckled her seatbelt and Reilly fell back in his seat. “Huh…”
A silence fell over the truck as Katy put it into Drive. As she pulled away from the curb, she asked, “Are you two sober enough to get your Jeep from MoDean’s or do you want me to drive you home?”
“Just get us to the Jeep,” Jonesy muttered, turning away from Reilly. Reilly’s shoulders sunk as he nodded in assent.
Katy’s eyes looked up to the rear view for a moment, but she just nodded as well as she pulled out of the lot. “Over and out.”
—
Katy waved goodbye to Reilly and Jonesy as they drove off from the MoDean’s parking lot. As she did, Wayne walked over and leaned next to her against the truck, cigarette hanging from his mouth. “Need a dart?”
“Please,” she said without looking back at him.
Without another word, Wayne passed her a cigarette. She took it and leaned over as he lit it for her. She took a long drag and exhaled the smoke in a sigh before she finally said, “You know they’ve been watching that video all day?”
Wayne looked over at her with a skeptical gaze. “What, the one of Hollander and Rozanov?”
“That’s the one,” she said, taking another inhale.
“Fuck’s sake,” Wayne muttered as he flicked the ash off his own dart.
“Yeah,” Katy sighed.
“Think those two dinguses will ever put it together?”
“We can’t push them, Wayne.”
“Yeah, but,” Wayne said, looking over at Katy as he flicked his ash away. “You probably could.”
Katy snorted at that. She knew he was probably right. She definitely got close a couple of times when she had been dating the both of them, but she knew it wasn’t right. “Could doesn’t mean I should, big brother. They gotta make the decision to go for it on their own.”
“Fair enough,” Wayne muttered as he put his dart back to his lips. “They are… extremely dumb though.”
“Can confirm,” Katy sighed before taking a long drag.
—
The drive from MoDean’s felt long and awkward as Reilly and Jonesy sat in silence, uncertain of what to say or do next.
As Reilly parked the Jeep and turned the engine off, he looked over at Jonesy and drummed his fingers on his thigh. “So…”
Jonesy looked over at Reilly. “So?”
“I know we talked about you staying over to play ‘Chel tonight,” Reilly said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “But… like… do you still want to?”
Jonesy let out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, of course. Let’s ‘Chel, bud!”
Reilly tried to smile, but he knew he was forcing it. Before he could say anything else, Jonesy stepped out of the Jeep and went to grab his gear bag. Reilly sighed as he followed suit, the silence falling again.
He hated this. He hated that Katy was making him think about things that happened years ago. He hated that Shoresy may be right. Shoresy.
As he grabbed his bag and fished out his keys as he walked to the front door, he felt a sudden urge come over him. Well, maybe not sudden. Maybe the urge that had felt under the surface all day from the moment he saw that video of Rozy kissing Hollander like the sniper that he was. Maybe even since he saw Scott Hunter do similar after winning the Stanley Cup years prior.
Reilly turned to Jonesy again, stopping him in his path. “Jonesy, do you just wanna… go for it?”
Jonesy looked at him in shock and let out another awkward laugh. “What?”
“You know what I mean,” Reilly said, keeping his gaze firm. “I just… I think I’m tired of… I don’t know what I’m tired of, but I’m tired of it. But I know that you’re my best friend and I love you and I want to g-“
Before he could even finish his sentence, Jonesy dropped his gear bag and closed the gap between him and Reilly. He crashed into Reilly’s mouth, kissing him with a wave of pent up emotion that had gone unspoken for years. Reilly initially pulled back into surprise, but then leaned in, his lips hungrily trying to fill in that space of unspoken words.
Jonesy broke away first, resting his forehead against Reilly’s. His breath was heavy as he smiled. “Sorry, was that okay?”
Reilly laughed genuinely this time as he pressed himself closer to Jonesy. The wall was broken down and all he wanted to do was get as close as he could. “More than okay, bud. You’re a sniper.”
Jonesy gave his own breathy laugh as his fingers twisted in Reilly’s hair. “You still want to rip some ‘Chel?”
“I think ‘Chel can wait a little bit,” Reilly muttered as he looped a finger around one of Jonesy’s belt loops. “Right now, I want to do more of this.”
Jonesy laughed again as he kissed Reilly again, softer this time. Probably softer than he had ever kissed anyone. “Wanna go for it like Rozy, baby?”
“Like Hollander, buddy,” Reilly said with a smile against Jonesy lips.
“Ferda,” Jonesy grinned as he pulled away long enough to pick up his gear bag again.
“Ferdaaa,” Reilly sung as he turned back towards the door and opened it as quickly as he could. Without another word, he dragged Jonesy inside and slammed the door behind them.