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Troy smiled down at the huge fluffy dog draped across his lap and let out a soft sigh of contentment. There had been a lot weighing on him lately, and Troy couldn’t think of a better way to take his mind off things than sitting on the floor and cuddling with Chiron in Harris’ office — and lucky for him, that was something he was able to do most days, even when he’d had practice. One of the perks of having his boyfriend work for the team.
Troy leaned back, his head resting against Harris’ hip as his boyfriend typed away on his laptop, hard at work as usual. After a moment or two, the sound of Harris’ typing stopped, and Troy felt long fingers brushing gently through his hair. He leaned back into the touch, ignoring the way his neck pressed awkwardly into the side of Harris’ office chair and instead savoring the closeness and tender touch.
“It’s only Chiron who's not allowed on the furniture you know,” Harris said. Even without looking up at him, Troy could hear the smile in his voice. “It can’t be comfortable down there.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve got the best cushion ever, right here.” Troy rubbed a hand along Chiron’s belly as he spoke.
In truth, he really would rather be sitting on a couch or a chair right now, and if they were at home, where Harris had a plush sofa sitting in the corner of his office, Troy would have done just that. But now that Chiron was full-grown, management had put a bunch of ridiculous rules in place about Chiron staying off the furniture or only being allowed in certain spaces when he was at the practice rink.
It was total bullshit, if you asked Troy, but Harris liked to remind him how lucky they were that they were still allowed to bring their dog to work with them at all. Which was a fair point, he supposed. But it was still bullshit.
It almost sounded like Harris was trying to say something else, but before Troy could make out any of his boyfriend’s words, Harris was cut off by an ear-splitting bang as his office door burst open.
Chiron immediately jumped up from Troy’s lap at the same moment Troy tried whipping his head around toward the office door, forgetting all about the bulky rolling chair he was leaning up against. Troy’s cheek and nose suddenly burned with a sharp pain as his face collided with the hard plastic of the arm rest.
“Fuck!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Harris had leapt to his feet at the shock of the sudden intrusion, and didn’t even seem to notice poor Troy getting beaten up by his office chair.
“Shane?!” Troy heard Harris sputter. “What the—?”
“Where’s Barrett?!” Shane’s voice demanded, sounding angrier than Troy had ever heard him. “We need to talk.”
Still rubbing his nose and cheek where the chair had struck him, Troy rose slowly to his feet, resigned to his fate. It was only a matter of time.
Head hung in shame, he crossed the room towards where Shane stood. “Here I am,” he said softly.
Shane narrowed his eyes at him instantly. “Troy, what the fuck?!”
Troy stared down at the floor as he spoke. “I know. You can let me have it. I deserve it.”
Over his shoulder, he heard Harris’ voice calling out to him, full of uncertainty and concern. “Troy, what is this about?”
Before Troy had a chance to reply, Shane was speaking again. “You know all about social media, right Harris? Have you ever heard of that one… Shit, what’s it called? Tinder, or something?” Shane asked, not taking his eyes off Troy.
Harris’ eyes widened in horror. “Tinder?!”
Oh shit. Troy was pretty sure he’d heard of that one. “Tumblr!” he corrected quickly. “It’s called Tumblr!”
“Oh right. Tumblr,” Shane corrected himself with a small shrug. “The geeky one.”
Harris let out a long sigh of relief before continuing. “Yes, I’ve definitely heard of it. I mean, I have an account, but I don’t really —“ Harris’ brows suddenly furrowed slightly. “Wait, what does this have to do with Troy? Babe, since when are you on social media? Especially Tumblr?!”
Troy took a breath and lifted a hand, rubbing it gingerly against his sore cheek where the chair had struck him. Where should he start? How could he even begin to explain himself? Before he could figure it out, they were interrupted by a pair of figures suddenly appearing at Harris’ open office door.
“There he is,” Luca said, sounding slightly out of breath as he looked over his shoulder at Ilya. “Like I said, he told me he was looking for Barrett, and then he — Oh my God! Troy!” His eyes widened in horror as they fell upon Troy’s red nose and cheek. “Did he punch you?!”
“What?! No!” Shane cried indignantly, looking over his shoulder at Luca.
Ilya peeked in behind where Luca stood in the doorway, looking equal parts puzzled and amused as he listened in.
Luca ignored Shane’s reply. “I’ve seen all the stuff going around on Tumblr, but I thought it was just some idiots making things up. I didn’t think any of it was actually —”
“I can handle it from here,” Ilya said, cutting Luca off and clapping him gently on the shoulder with one of his large hands. “Thanks for helping me find Shane.”
Luca seemed to take the hint and turned to leave, looking almost like a dog with his tail between his legs as he quickly scurried off down the hallway.
“I didn’t hit him!” Shane cried desperately toward Luca‘s retreating form before Ilya finally closed the office door behind them.
“Okay,” Ilya said with a heavy breath, still clearly torn between amusement and confusion. “Does anyone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“Yeah, me too,” Harris agreed, his eyes darting back-and-forth between Troy and Shane in confusion. “What did Troy do this time?”
Troy heaved a sigh. There was no use in trying to sugarcoat anything. It was time he came clean.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” he began. “Back in Toronto, I was kind of…”
“A total dick?” Harris chuckled softly. “We all knew that one, buddy,” he assured his boyfriend.
Troy shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. I was horrible to so many people. Especially Shane… I guess.”
“Wait. Why ‘especially’ Shane?”
Troy ignored Ilya’s question. “And I never really, like, ‘answered’ for any of it before, you know?” he explained guiltily before turning his attention back to Shane. “I’m just surprised you didn’t confront me about it sooner, honestly.”
Shane stared at him in silence for a long moment. “Do you even hear yourself?!” he cried at last. “The only thing I’m here to make you ‘answer for” is spreading a bunch of stupid fucking rumors all over the Internet, and somehow getting me involved in it!”
With a low chuckle, Ilya lowered himself onto the floor of Harris’ office and patted one of his thighs gently. Chiron eagerly accepted the invitation and flopped down instantly into Ilya’s lap for belly rubs, just as he had with Troy a few minutes before.
“I still have no idea what is going on,” Ilya muttered in amusement as he looked up at Shane and Troy. “But whatever this is, I know it’s going to be good.”
Shane shot his husband a look, but said nothing. Instead, he quickly turned his gaze back toward Troy. “Well,” he said angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna explain yourself, or what?”
Behind him, Harris must have closed the distance between them, because Troy suddenly felt a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder. “Troy, what is this about?”
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow, deep breath. “It all started a couple weeks ago,” Troy began slowly. “I’m guessing you all saw the news. About Dallas Kent? And the sentencing?”
Ilya raised an eyebrow as he looked up from where he sat on the floor with Chiron. “Troy, we took you out for drinks to celebrate. Of course we saw!”
“Yeah, well it was that night actually…” Troy continued. “I was kind of drunk,” he admitted. “But I still couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about how unfair it is that Dallas has to pay for his crimes but I never had to pay for mine.”
“What ‘crimes’?!” Harris asked incredulously.
Ilya was still looking up at Troy from the floor. “Harris is right. The last time I checked, being a dick is not illegal.”
“Yeah, if it was, I’m pretty sure over half the league would be behind bars,” Shane agreed.
Troy ignored their comments and continued on. “Everyone’s been so nice to me ever since I joined this team.”
“Yes. Because we never had a reason not to.” Ilya explained.
“Even the fans ended up welcoming me.”
Harris let out a soft chuckle. “That’s what happens when you start playing well and helping the team win.”
“And when I came out last year, so many people were happy for me. Everyone was treating me like I was some kind of… hero or role model or something.”
Shane continued eyeing him with skepticism. “Well, no shit. You did something brave. Of course people are gonna look up to that.”
“I’m still trying to figure out what any of this has to do with Tumblr…” Harris muttered, cutting in before Troy had a chance to continue.
Troy bit his lip for a moment, which was a poor decision because now it hurt along with his cheek and nose where the chair had struck him. “Well, like I said, that night we found out about Dallas getting sentenced, I was feeling really weird, and guilty…”
“And drunk,” Ilya reminded him, not glancing up this time as he enthusiastically rubbed Chiron’s belly.
“That too,” Troy admitted, albeit a bit reluctantly. “And I felt like I just kinda needed to… Shit, I dunno how to explain it. ‘Put it all out there’, or something? Like a confession, I guess. But I didn’t wanna do it on my Instagram. I didn’t want people to think I was looking for attention or anything. And I remembered Luca talking about Tumblr, and how people like to write these huge essays where they share their opinions and stuff? And it sounded like the right place to do it.”
Harris was staring at him like he was looking at a ghost. “So you posted – what, some kind of weird anonymous confession on Tumblr?”
“Not exactly…”
Shane stepped closer to Harris. “Worse – he made this bullshit account called ‘TroyBarrettSucks’ and posted like he was some bitter hockey fan who wanted to list all the reasons Troy’s the scum of the Earth and doesn’t deserve to be happy.”
“Hey, it wasn’t that bad!” Troy cried.
Shane scoffed at him. “No?” He lifted his phone and peered down at the screen as he began reading aloud. “‘I’m sick of everyone acting like Troy Barrett actually deserves any of the good things that have happened to him since he started playing for Ottawa. Don’t forget what he was like back in Toronto. Don’t forget who he was friends with.’ And then it goes on a very dramatic rant about how you’re just as bad as Dallas was, by association.”
Why did Shane have to make it sound so stupid? He was just being honest! Troy shook his head slowly for a moment, trying to figure out how Shane had even been made aware of any of this in the first place.
“How did you even find that?” he asked. “And how did you know I was the one who wrote it?”
Ilya, who had excitedly scrambled to his feet to begin reading over Shane’s shoulder, laughed softly to himself as he continued staring intently at his husband’s phone. “Well, your profile picture is that terrible one I took of you at Bood's barbecue last month. I only sent it to you and Harris. I never posted it anywhere. Why would anyone else have it?”
Troy suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He’d just assumed a Troy Barrett hate page would have an unflattering picture of him as their logo. He never thought about where the photograph actually came from.
“Oh shit, I didn’t even notice that,” Shane admitted, shaking his head in amazement. “Actually, it was all the weirdly specific examples you mentioned.” He was looking down at Troy’s post on his phone again. “Who else is gonna know about the time you ate at the team potluck but didn’t bring anything to share?”
Ilya turned toward his husband with a furrowed brow. “Wait, you are not supposed to do that?”
“Anyway,” Troy continued, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. “The point is, I felt guilty, so I decided to make that post. And now…”
“Now it’s spread all over that stupid site and people have started making a bunch of shit up and dragging me into it!” Shane cried. “I’ve been flooded with DMs from people saying I should never talk to you again. Or that I should beat the shit out of you. Or hit you with my car?!”
“Look, they’re bringing up good points though!” Troy took a step closer to Shane as he tried to explain. “You’ve always been so nice to me, ever since we first met – officially, I mean. Like, off the ice.”
Shane just stared at him. “You’re one of my husband’s best friends, obviously I’m gonna be nice to you! And you’ve always been nice to me too!”
“Even when I was in Toronto? Even after everything I did?”
“What did you do?!” Shane demanded. “Look, I know you were friends with a giant piece of shit. And I know you used to say a lot of the same homophobic bullshit Kent did. And yeah, that kinda made you a dick,” he admitted.
“See?!”
Shane kept going. “But you’ve obviously changed now! You’ve already proved that to everybody! And I still don’t get what any of it has to do with me? What makes you think I have any more reason to hate you than anyone else?”
Troy shook his head slowly. How could he not understand? “Don’t you remember? All those sick, racist jokes I told in front of you? All those awful slurs I called you on the ice? Every time I personally victimized you, specifically? I keep seeing new posts pop up every day about how awful I was to you, and they keep getting worse and worse.”
“Um, no. I don’t remember any of that.” Shane raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest once more. “What about you, Troy? Do you remember saying any of those things?”
“Well, no. Not really,” Troy admitted with a shrug. “But I probably like, blocked it out, or something. It was probably too much to let myself remember how horrible I really was to you.”
“Or maybe you never actually said any of that,” Shane insisted. “Maybe this is just a bunch of my fans who are pissed I play for Ottawa now and wanna give me a reason to be mad about it,” he suggested. “You just happened to give them the perfect excuse, so now they’re making a bunch of shit up and running with it.”
“Sounds like it,” Harris agreed. “And apparently they’re forgetting the difference between what really happened and what they think happened.”
“Who would do something like that?!”
His boyfriend chuckled softly. “Oh, babe, you’ve never been part of a fandom, have you?”
“Barrett, you fucking idiot.” Ilya laughed heartily as he spoke. “You are the only person in the whole universe who would start a hate campaign against himself.”
There was a long beat of silence as Troy considered this. “Okay, wait. So… I’m not some horrible, irredeemable monster?”
“Nope,” Harris assured him gently.
“And… I’m not a selfish piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to be happy?”
Ilya shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“And… you don’t hate me, Shane?”
“Well, I didn’t before,” Shane grumbled. “But now that I’ve got a bunch of fans thinking I should turn into some vengeful, violent asshole…”
Troy’s shoulders slumped forward and he held his face in his hands for a moment, the impact deepening the sting in his cheeks. He’d really fucked this one up, hadn’t he? Now the internet hated his guts and poor Shane had gotten dragged into it too.
“Fuck. What am I supposed to do now?! How do I get it to stop?”
The other three men exchanged uncertain glances before Harris finally spoke. “Honestly? At this point, I’m not too sure you can… Sorry, babe.”
“What?!” Troy and Shane cried out in unison.
Harris lifted both hands almost defensively. “Hey! There’s good news though!” he assured them. “The internet moves on really quickly. So yeah, they hate your guts and think Shane should beat the shit out of you now… But give them a few more weeks, and they’ll have something new to be mad about.”
Troy eyed Harris curiously. “Like what?”
“Oh, all kinds of things — shipping players together and getting pissed that they aren’t a couple in real life, being irrationally offended at the way some of the fantasy hockey players set up their teams, sending death threats to coaches because they don’t like how they did things…”
Troy blinked a few times. He’d had no idea what kind of ridiculous shit people liked getting angry about online.
“Wow. The internet can be pretty fucking stupid, huh?”
“Yes.” Ilya nodded. “And you were smart to stay far away from it. It is a shame you decided to be a complete fucking idiot this time.”
Troy hung his head. He couldn’t really argue with that, could he?
Shane took a step closer to Harris. “So we just… wait it out? We shouldn’t try and say something, or…?”
Harris shook his head. “Not worth it. Once people on the internet make up their minds, there’s no changing them. Nobody cares about what actually happened,” he explained. “Unless, of course, you give them something they can use to justify what they’re saying.”
Ilya nodded. “So you might want to stop Haas before he starts telling everyone he saw Shane punch Troy…”
“I didn’t punch him!” Shane cried desperately. “Troy’s my friend!”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you been paying attention? The internet doesn’t care!”
Troy turned his panicked gaze toward Shane. “Fuck,” he muttered.
Shane heaved a sigh. “Let’s go!” He beckoned for Troy to follow, then turned toward the office door.
Troy didn’t need telling twice. “Sorry, babe! I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder to Harris as he followed.
“I’m deleting Tumblr off your phone while you’re gone!” his boyfriend called back to him.
“Maybe you should throw the whole phone away, just to be safe,” he heard Ilya add with a snicker.
Troy’s cheeks burned hotter than ever before. Maybe he really would have deserved that punch after all…
But not for the reason everyone seemed to think.