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Troy knew Harris was up to something. He keeps catching that quiet kind of smile on his face when he’s not looking. He had no idea what it could possibly be, but at least he could tell it was the good kind of scheming if he was smiling like that. After a few weeks, though, Harris faded back into his usual happy-go-lucky and Troy nearly forgot all about it.
—
Harris was running out of time to secretly set up a hidden camera in the players lounge if he wanted to meet up with Troy before the big surprise. Finally, he stopped fussing with the tripod when Gen leveled a look at him.
“What?” He scrunched his shoulders in a defensive shrug.
Gen just rolled her eyes, though her smile was fond.
“First, you know I’m gonna be here with my camera, and Stephanie is gonna capture everything for social media, too. Second, you know he’s gonna love it. They all will. I promise.”
“Fine. Fine, okay, I’m done.” He threw his hands up in surrender and left to go find his boyfriend.
Leaning against a wall just outside the locker room, Troy looked ridiculously good for someone who was a sweaty hockey mess 30 minutes ago and who got out of a rushed locker room shower 5 minutes ago. He looked even better when he saw Harris and a dopey smile took over his features.
“Hi, handsome,” he beamed and leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Hi.” Troy still blushed at every compliment. “How was work?”
“Only half way over. Some of us have actual, boring day jobs and don’t get to go home at noon.”
More players emerged from the locker room and Harris made sure to remind them to stop by the players lounge on the way out. Troy’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What’s in the lounge?” He asked, unsure.
“Babe, there have been emails about this. For weeks.” He laughed as Troy’s expression softened again, though he clearly still didn’t know what Harris was talking about. He decided to take pity on him. “It’s to pick up the gear for Pride Night.”
Troy dipped his head and stared at the ground. He sighed with a slight shake of his head, but he was fighting off a smile. When he finally looked up and met Harris’ eyes, he knew an insanely fond and proud grin was taking over his own face too. They didn’t need to say it out loud, Harris knew what he was thinking. He still can’t believe it. That this team is so supportive. That he’s out and everyone knows and they love him anyway. Love him because of it.
Harris offered his hand. “Ready?”
“Ready.” Troy took it, squeezing softly and they set off down the hall.
—
When they walked in Troy was met with the familiar organized chaos of individually packaged and labeled bundles strewn about every available surface—including the couch.
“Troy!” Justin, one of the equipment managers called out with a wave.
“Hey Justin, how are you?”
“Good, good,” he replied automatically as he started running over his list and muttering, “Barrett…Barrett, ah ha! Number seventeen, your kit should be right over here.” He crossed to the coffee table, picking up a bundle and handing it to Troy. He took it, glancing to double check the little sticker had his name on it.
“Thanks, Justin, good luck with all this.“ It might look like a mess, but Troy knew he had a system, so he learned not to question it.
Justin nodded in thanks before shifting his attention to address one of his teammates. He was about to turn back to Harris and head out when Hazy called out to him from the corner.
“Hey Barrett, how come yours has your jersey in it, but ours don’t?”
Troy stopped dead in his tracks to shoot a questioning glance at Wyatt. His only response was to look down at the package in Troy’s hand then back up with a raise of his eyebrow. Suddenly, he could feel Harris looking at him from somewhere to his right. He made eye contact, but Harris only parroted Hayes’ glance. Troy frowned down at the clear plastic-wrapped bundle between his hands. He flipped the package over. Sure enough, underneath the rest of the gear was a folded Centaurs jersey with a rainbow logo, but that didn’t explain a) why Wyatt didn’t have one, or b) why Harris was staring at him wide-eyed.
“Open it!” It came out as a whisper-yell.
Still confused, Troy started to carefully open the sealed package, taking the jersey out but trying not to disturb the rest of the contents. Slowly, he unfolded the jersey, holding it up in front of him.
“Um, cool?” He offered. It was still the ridiculous Centaurs logo, but with rainbow embellishments. Not all that different from previous pride jerseys they’d had.
He looked up to see Harris beaming in a way that meant that sure is my lovable idiot. He glanced around the room and noticed Wyatt and the other few other assembled players had similar fond looks.
After a long silence, Wyatt took pity, walking up to him, grabbing the jersey and flipping it in his hands so Troy was looking at the back. Oh. Usually pride jerseys just changed the team logo, but this time his name and number were decorated in rainbow too. And based on the room’s collective anticipation, he realized that this was probably not the default. The equipment team must have specially designed it. And, he realized with a jolt, Harris knew.
“Surprise!” His delightfully scheming boyfriend called out when Troy met his eyes.
He let go of the jersey with one hand to pull Harris into a tight hug. The rest of the room had gone back to what they were doing, but when they finally pulled away Hazy clapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder. Bood and the few others who were still milling about followed suit, gently ribbing him for being oblivious mixed in with congratulating him.
While his teammates were still surrounding him, Ilya Rozanov burst through the door with a loud laugh and Shane Hollander followed, laughing and rolling his eyes. Rozanov stopped just inside the door as his gaze settled on the group around Troy.
“Why are we all swarming Barrett?”
Hollander shot him a look—one that was both slightly horny and unfortunately common—that the team now recognized as Shane’s ‘Where did you learn that word?’ look. Troy was about to raise up the new jersey to show it to them when Harris abruptly grabbed his wrist and smiled wildly.
“New gear.” His tone was only an attempt at casual.
Troy glanced between the jersey, Harris, and the confused couple across the room. A knowing smirk spread across his face. There’s a surprise waiting for hockey’s favorite power couple, too.
Wordlessly, Justin handed each of them their own plastic bundles. They shared a glance with each other before opening them—Hollander with significantly more care than Rozanov—and taking out their respective jerseys.
Shane smiled softly at the front, flipped it over to the back and his jaw dropped open. He recovered from his shock quickly enough and scanned the room until he found Harris in the crowd.
“We wanted to do something special for you guys.”
Shane was grinning broadly, reverently running his fingers over the fabric.
“Thank you, it’s wow—thank you.”
Troy glanced over and saw that Hollander’s name and number were similarly decked out in rainbow. Shane caught him looking and held it up for the room to see: emblazoned on the back of his jersey in rainbow letters was “Hollander-Rozanov #24”.
Troy really fucking loved this team. He snaked an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and pulled him to his side just to prove to himself that this was real.
—
Shane held up his customized Pride Night jersey and his teammates cheered. So many things about playing for the Centaurs have felt unbelievable—he got to play with an amazing team, he had a great coach, and he got to play with his husband. He couldn’t have even imagined something like this.
He looked over at Ilya, who was still staring down at his own jersey. His also said “Hollander-Rozanov,” only instead of rainbow it was all pink, purple, and blue: the colors of the bisexual flag.
Ilya finally broke out his stupor when Shane gently bumped his shoulder. His eyes were a little bit shiny, but not forming real tears. And he was smiling so sincerely it almost burned to look at, like looking directly at the sun. He sent his husband a look to say, are you okay? and Ilya nodded back. He still seemed a little choked up, but he met Harris' eyes —and Justin’s since something like this was definitely more his domain than the Comms Director—and managed a small thank you.
If Harris was taken aback by their usually loud, obnoxious captain being uncharacteristically soft, he didn’t show it. “There’s also one more surprise.”
Shane and Ilya shared an amused look before focusing back on Harris in anticipation.
“Check the inside of the collar.”
Shane did. He was somehow smiling impossibly brighter when he found a small purple, pink, and blue 81. He held it up next to Ilya’s and spotted the matching rainbow 24 on his collar. Harris kept talking, but Shane could barely focus on anything but the warmth in his chest and his beautiful husband’s smile. He laced their hands together and leaned into Ilya’s side.
“My original idea was to try to put them over your hearts, but something about the way the fabric is made,” he rambled, “and the fact that literally no one would ever see them meant we had to try something else…”
Shane mostly tuned the words out, but the message got across anyway. Harris probably could’ve kept going, but Bood cut him off.
“Yeah, yeah, Harris is a big sentimental, softie. Guess we know who the favorite players are now.” Everyone laughed, taking some of the stillness of the room, but leaving the warmth.
Most of the players had gotten here before them and were already gone, but Bood, Hayes, Dykstra, Haas, and Chouinard stuck around. And Barrett, of course. He got the feeling they must have waited on purpose—except for Troy who was also surprised with his own jersey. Even more than the jersey itself, he was overwhelmed by the fact that his teammates were there to support them. Not just that they were cool with their teammates being queer, but wanting to stay late after a grueling practice just to be part of this moment with them.
Several smaller conversations had broken out, but Shane was content to listen, to revel in the feeling of just how fucking awesome this team was. Eventually, people filed out one by one, squeezing shoulders and voicing support on their way out until he was alone with Ilya. He squeezed Shane’s hand where they were still clasped together.
“What are you thinking, moya lyubov?”
“I really fucking love this team.”
Ilya barked out a laugh and started leading them out the door.
“Wait!” Shane suddenly panicked. “Don’t we have to give these back to the equipment staff?” He was referring to their jerseys. Ilya just laughed at him, the asshole he is. Shane smacked his arm.
“Check your phone.”
When he looked down, he had a text waiting on his lock screen.
From: Harris Drover
“Btw, those are yours to keep. The equipment team has an identical set for the game with the rest of the team’s pride jerseys.”
Another text came through as he was reading.
From: Harris Drover
“And, yes, Ilya made me text you so you wouldn’t freak out.”
He looked back up at his frustratingly endearing husband and tried to ignore his smug face. Though he knew his own face was fondly exasperated in response, like always.
“Can we go home now?”
Shane nodded.
“Good, I have big plans for what I want to do to you when you are wearing my name on your jersey.”
“Ilya!” He blushed automatically—they technically hadn’t even left work yet—but still shoved his husband and speedwalked to their car, making Ilya chase after him.
—
Harris finally got home from work several long hours later. At least the second half of his day was drastically improved when Gen shared the photos she took and Stephanie—their new social media manager—sent over what she got on video. He couldn’t wait to show Troy, and he’d definitely have to send some to Ilya and Shane, too.
“Honey, I’m home!” He shook off his coat and dropped his keys in the little dish before making his way into the house.
He found Troy sitting at their kitchen island with the new jersey spread out on the counter. He looked up from whatever he was doing on his phone as Harris wrapped his arms around him from behind, planting a gentle kiss on his hair.
“I knew you were up to something.” Troy started without preamble. Harris only grinned.
“I don’t have any idea what you mean.”
Troy’s glare was unimpressed, though it only lasted a second before melting back into his signature shy smile.
“A couple weeks ago you were all smiley when you thought I wasn’t looking. But then nothing happened so I almost completely forgot about it.”
“Oh yeah? Well, if you’re so clever, have you found the other secret yet?”
Troy’s mouth opened in shock and then he was sputtering.
“Wait other secret? What do you mean other—“
He cut himself off and picked up his jersey from the counter in a frenzy. Harris watched as he found the back of the inside collar and saw the exact moment Troy realized what it meant. He jumped up from his seat and pulled him into a bruising kiss.
There, hidden on the inside collar, was a tiny rainbow apple.