Work Text:
God, this was so fucking weird.
That’s all Paul Baker could think about while back in his hometown of Ottawa, at his high school friend Shane Hollander’s wedding, of all things. Shane Hollander, who has since become a huge fucking hockey star and is now officially married to apparently the other biggest hockey star in the league, Ilya Rozanov.
Paul Baker never cared much for hockey, if that wasn’t apparent. Some Canadian he was.
But that didn’t mean he was completely blind to how batshit insane this all was. He knew hockey was a notoriously homophobic sport, and the fact that two male hockey players were getting married, yeah, that was definitely a big deal. And honestly, Paul Baker was honored to be a part of this history.
He and Shane hadn’t talked in ages, but miraculously, he had been invited. He brought Anton as his plus one, now that they were dating for real and technically married (but with feelings now).
The wedding was in Ilya’s backyard, a much different venue than Paul Baker was expecting, considering these guys were professional athletes with tons of money, but it was nice regardless. He supposes it may have felt a little more personal this way.
Paul Baker spotted Rose Landry across the yard, which was a little insane considering she was a huge fucking actress. This was definitely the most interesting wedding Paul Baker had been to, excluding his own.
Anton suggested they go talk to the grooms for a little while, which was probably a good idea. Paul Baker was invited to their wedding, after all.
“Hey!” Paul Baker shouts, catching Shane and Ilya’s attention.
“Oh, hey, dude!” Shane responded. “This is Paul Baker, my old friend from high school,” he said to his husband. “Ilya, Paul. Paul, Ilya.”
Paul Baker gave Ilya a quick nod and smile. “Nice to meet you. Uh, this is my boyfriend/husband, Anton.”
“Heyyyy.” Anton smiled.
Both Shane and Ilya gave a confused look in response to Paul Baker’s previous comment.
“It’s a long story,” Anton said to fill the silence.
“No, go on,” Ilya said expectantly.
“His visa was expiring, he was gonna get married to his girlfriend, but she chickened out, so he chose me instead because I brought glowsticks to the wedding,” Anton rattled off.
“Our friends made us kiss as a joke after, but it was way too real. It took a while, but we’re dating for real now. And still legally married.” Paul Baker added.
Shane and Ilya slowly nodded, as if to say that didn’t clear up much, but okay.
“You guys both look really nice, by the way,” Anton remarked.
Friend slut. Old habits die hard.
“I like this guy,” Ilya laughed, nudging Shane.
“I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” Anton said, mostly to Paul Baker, and then headed to the house.
“So, how have you been lately?” Paul Baker asks Shane.
“I’ve been,” He pauses. “Okay. You?”
“Pretty good, I guess. Weird, but good,” Paul Baker answered.
They made small talk for a couple of minutes until Paul Baker decided he should probably let them be.
“Well, it was nice catching up with you,” Paul Baker says to Shane, “and nice meeting you,” he says to Ilya, “but I think I’ll leave you guys alone now and go get another drink,” He laughed.
Shane and Ilya wave, and Paul Baker goes to grab said drink.
———————
So.
It had been at least ten minutes since Anton had gone to use the bathroom, and Paul Baker was starting to get worried. He should definitely be back by now, right?
Just then, he saw Shane exit the door and head his direction, his eyes concerned.
Fuck.
“Hey, um, your boyfriend is unconscious on the bathroom floor, I think he fell or something. Thought I’d let you know. I- I’m gonna call 9-1-1, now, okay?”
“Okay, yeah,” Paul Baker nodded, sorta out of it, but panicking internally.
Double fuck.
Paul Baker darts straight for the door and makes his way to the bathroom. Sure enough, Anton was sprawled out on the tile floor. Under his head was a small black rug, but clearly that wasn’t enough to cushion his fall.
Fuck fuck fuck.
“Anton?” Paul Baker asked, hoping for a response. All he got in return was silence.
Paul Baker got down on his knees and attempted to shake Anton awake.
Paul Baker pulled out his phone and opened Google. He frantically started searching ‘What to do when your boyfriend slips on the bathroom floor and is unconscious?’. He clicked on the first search result, but just to his luck, it was behind a paywall.
He didn’t know how long he had been trying to wake Anton, but eventually the paramedics showed up. Paul Baker quickly moved out of the way, and the paramedics began examining Anton.
“We think he probably slipped and knocked himself out,” One of the paramedics says to Paul Baker. “We’ll take him to the hospital, but he’ll most likely be fine.”
“Can I just take him back to the hotel? If he’s going to be fine anyway?” Paul Baker asked. He really did not want to go to the hospital. He was already exhausted; he didn’t need to make it worse for no reason.
The paramedic looked to the other, who nodded. “Yeah, sure. That seems fine.”
Thank God.
They lifted Anton up, but one of the paramedics face’s dropped.
“What? What’s wrong?” Paul Baker said softly. Wow. The situation just couldn’t stop getting worse.
“There’s blood. His hair and the rug soaked most of it up, but we can’t let him go.
And with that, they were off to the hospital.
———————
Paul Baker was freaking out a little.
Okay, maybe he was freaking out a lot.
The paramedic was trying to do their job, but also talk to Paul Baker so he didn’t completely lose it.
Paul Baker wasn’t really picking up on anything the paramedic was saying, though. His mind was simultaneously wandering a million places and stuck in only one. Seeing Anton lying unconscious on the floor… It was… scary.
Paul Baker was quickly whisked back to reality by Anton, dramatically waving his arm around.
“Anton?” Paul Baker whispered.
“CHECK MY CHARTS!” Anton yelled, and then promptly passed out again.
———————
Anton got six stitches.
He was going to be fine.
The doctors said it was likely he was concussed.
But he was going to be fine regardless.
Paul Baker opened his phone and was greeted by a few notifications from the past couple hours.
Issa: how’s the wedding?
Issa: ???
Issa: why aren’t either of you answering
Issa: paul bakerrrrr
An hour later, she texted:
Issa: i’m like pretty sure billie and samir kissed tonight fr fr but i can’t prove it
He snapped a quick picture of Anton sleeping, sent it, and messaged her back.
Paul Baker: Hospital
Issa: WHAT
Issa: the fuck???
Paul Baker closed the Messages app and switched to Instagram to check his DMs.
ShaneHollander24_: Hey, man. Just wanted to check in and see if everything’s okay.
shepaulonmybaker: anton got stitches, and they think he’s probably concussed, but they say he’ll be fine. he’s sleeping rn
ShaneHollander24_: That’s good to hear.
He shut off his phone and set it on the table next to him, and dozed off in the chair he was sitting in.
———————
Paul Baker was awoken not long after he had fallen asleep by an increase in noise in the hospital room. The curtain wasn’t fully closed, so he could kinda see the other patient in the room. There were machines hooked up to the guy, frankly, he looked rough. Whatever had happened to this random dude, it was clearly way worse than what happened to Anton. It made everything seem sort of small in comparison.
Paul Baker knew that they weren’t going to be attended to for a while. He understood, but part of him felt a little… jealous? Maybe not that.
He realized he shouldn’t dwell on it and gave his attention back to Anton.
Paul Baker wasn’t the only one woken up by the noise. Anton started to blink himself awake.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Paul Baker said.
“Hello,” Anton said in a sing-songy tone with a stupid smile on his face. He was definitely a bit high from whatever the hospital gave him. “Hey, come here,” He said, patting the edge of the bed.
Paul Baker scooted the uncomfortable hospital chair closer to the bed and caressed Anton’s cheek with his thumb.
“Better,” Anton smiled. “Um, what time is it?”
“It’s like, eleven, I think? Um, how are you feeling?”
“I mean, my head hurts like hell, but I’m fine, I guess.”
“Good to hear, good to hear,” Paul Baker said. They sat in silence for a few moments until Paul Baker spoke up. “Um, so, how much do you remember? ‘Cause the doctors said you’re probably concussed, or something, I don’t know.”
“I guess I remember saying I was going to go to the bathroom, or something, but my mind just goes kinda blank after that.”
“That would make sense,” Paul Baker said, nodding his head.
“I also sort of remember being in an ambulance, but that’s kinda foggy.”
“Yeah, you slipped on the bathroom floor and cracked your head open,” Paul Baker responded. He paused for a brief moment. “You know, I tried to look up what to do when your boyfriend slips on the bathroom floor and is unconscious, but-”
“Let me guess. Paywall?”
“Paywall.”
There was a knock at the door. Before anyone could speak, it opened. A nurse was there, with a clipboard in hand.
“Hello,” The nurse walked toward Anton and Paul Baker. “It’s nice to see you awake, Mr. Evans.”
“Hello,” Anton dragged out the last vowel with a nod.
“I’m just going to ask you some questions, okay?”
“O-kay,” Anton said, very pronounced.
Paul Baker started tuning out the nurse and Anton’s conversation, staring at the lights, his peripheral vision getting blurrier and blurrier, the buzz of the lights getting louder in his head.
When he snapped out of it, Anton was still answering questions. Paul Baker also realized he had a raging headache. He needed water.
“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Paul Baker interrupted without thinking, tapping his fingers on Anton’s forearm. Anton nodded, and Paul Baker pulled his body up from the chair.
Paul Baker walked down the long hallway, his eyes firmly focused on his feet, purposefully avoiding stepping on the cracks of the tile.
He found a dimly lit bathroom towards the end of the hallway. He turned on the sink’s faucet, leaned over, and started lapping up water like a dog. He stayed like that for a moment and then stood up straight. Paul Baker looked at himself in the mirror, listening to the water running. There were bags forming under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. Frankly, he looked disheveled. He was so tired. Who could blame him, though? What an eventful night this had been.
Paul Baker covered his face with his hands and dragged them down his face, pulling on his lower eyelids, and groaned.
He then got his hands wet and ran them through his hair, trying to smooth out his hair.
Paul Baker turned off the water and straightened his posture.
He gave himself one last look in the mirror and then made his way back to the hospital room.
———————
An hour later, they managed to get cleared to leave.
Before they had left the building, Paul Baker quickly called an Uber.
Outside of the building, Anton and Paul Baker could see a crowd across the street, police officers dealing with them.
Just then, Paul Baker felt his phone buzz. The Uber driver he had called messaged him.
Driver: oh fuck no dawg 😭
Driver: i am NOT picking you up
Paul Baker: ?
Driver: theres some gang shit over there or smth
Driver: im not driving over there
Paul Baker: bruh
Driver: idk what to tell you
Driver: find someone else to pick you up lil bro
“Fuck!” Paul Baker exclaimed.
Anton raised his eyebrow.
“The fucking Uber driver canceled on us because of whatever’s going on over there,” Paul Baker waved his pointer finger at the crowd.
“Shit,” Anton said under his breath.
“Um, I think there’s a hotel or something nearby, we can call another one there, let’s just get out of here first.”
A police officer guided them across the street.
Anton and Paul Baker walked down the sidewalk, fingers entangled.
“I’m tired,” Anton complained. “I just wanna go home.”
“I know,” Paul Baker sighed. “Me too.”
Their flight back to New York was in two days. Two days felt like an eternity from now.
They soon found the hotel and entered its lobby.
Anton went to find the bathroom, and Paul Baker pulled his phone out of his pocket to try and call another Uber.
This attempt to get back to their hotel turned out to be successful, as this driver accepted the request to pick Anton and Paul Baker up at their current location.
Paul Baker stared at the plants in the lobby as he waited for Anton.
He saw Anton approaching him from the corner of his eye.
Anton was almost back when one of his feet slipped underneath the other and his arms went flailing.
Paul Baker’s head darted towards Anton and his eyes widened.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Paul Baker said. “Are you fucking okay?”
“I have brain damage, okay?” Anton laughed. “You can’t blame me.”
“You have a concussion. Not fucking brain damage.” Paul Baker deadpanned.
“Same thing!” Anton exclaimed. “Dumbass,” He mumbled under his breath, and then rested his head on Paul Baker’s shoulder.
“Oh! I called another Uber. This one’s actually coming to get us.”
“Hooray,” Anton said flatly.
Paul Baker turned his head and pressed a kiss onto Anton’s forehead.
Anton smiled and buried his head further into his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“It’s been a very eventful night for us, hasn’t it?” Paul Baker said matter-of-factly.
“I can’t wait to go home with you.”
“Yeah. Me too.”