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Troy couldn't stop grinning. Like, it would cause him physical pain to try and stop at this point. He was staring down into the innocent cardboard box that had been waiting for him in Harris' arms when he got to the arena. He'd known it was coming, but that didn't dampen any of the exhilaration he felt upon opening it and seeing the contents.
He gently, lovingly, touched the metal placard with one fingertip, stroking along the newly minted lettering. Below it, he could already see the name printed on the jersey fabric.
"Congratulations, Troy." Harris whispered, watching at him as he looked at the contents of the box. Troy looked up, realizing Harris was crying. His eyes started to burn.
"I'm so fucking happy, Harris." Troy let the box fall onto their feet and wrapped his arms around Harris' shoulders. Pulling him close. And maybe subtly using Harris' Centaurs sweatshirt to mop up his tears before his face got all red and blotchy.
"Hey, hey. I draw the line at using your new husband as a human Kleenex. Don't think I don't know what you're doing back there." Harris scolded.
"Fuck. Husband." That set him off again, and he was full on sobbing into Harris' shoulder.
"Oh my god. I'll have to change before I go anywhere, you're getting snot on my work uniform." Harris fake-scolded.
"Ugh. Sorry. I'm... I'm just happy." Troy said, pulling his nose away from Harris' shoulder and thumbing the damp spot his snot had definitely left there.
"Stop. Stop. Shane's germaphobe spidey senses are going to detect your germs as soon as you step foot in the locker room, and then you'll have to shower before and after the game."
"You're right. Sorry." Troy apologized again.
"Do you have the chain for your ring?" Harris asked, running a thumb under Troy's left eye to wipe away the tear still tracking down his face. Troy nodded.
"You ready to tell them?" Harris asked quietly. Troy nodded again, bigger this time. Harris picked up the box that had dropped on their sneakers and put it back in Troy's arms.
"Okay, go get 'em." Harris said, turning Troy in the direction of the locker room and swatting him on the ass for good measure. Troy smiled back at him over his shoulder.
In the locker room, chaos abounded. Dykstra was playing some horrible music from the American South, Bood and Chouinard were whipping each other with their workout towels, and there was a poker game going on in the corner. Troy felt happiness well up inside of him, blotting out any anxiety he might have had ahead of their season-opening game tonight.
"Troy? You good?" Shane asked quietly. Of course Hollander would notice his puffy eyes and idiotic grin the moment he walked in the door.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I'm great, actually." Troy said, stepping around some discarded towels so he could come over to his stall.
"What is in box? Better be cookies." Ilya said, pursing his lips in interest.
"Heh, not cookies. Not my week to bake for everyone." Troy replied.
"Oh, fuck. That's what I forgot." Wyatt swore. "Sorry, guys. Next week." Everyone groaned. Wyatt was going on week three of forgetting his commitment to locker room snacks.
Troy set down the box on his cubby ledge and looked inside again, his heart swelling as he caught sight of the contents again.
"Uh, I actually have an announcement." He said, reaching into the box.
"Hey, guys. Listen up!" Shane whistled, and the locker room immediately quieted.
"I love when you do that." Ilya kissed his husband's cheek.
"Uh..." Now that Troy had the attention of the room, he felt that usual panic he got when he was perceived by too many people at once and his mouth immediately went dry.
Troy? Is everything okay?" Bood asked. Everyone was looking at him with such obvious concern, Troy almost started crying again.
"Everything's okay, it's- uh, everything's actually great. I just have some news. Good news."
He had no idea how to make his mouth form the words I got married yesterday and I'm so ridiculously happy to leave my asshole past behind that I changed my name publicly, hope that doesn't mess up our communication at the game tonight, screen my dad's calls and visits if he dares make them, oh- and come to our reception later this Fall if you feel like it. So Troy just reached into the box and pulled out his new jersey, holding it up to show the back.
There was a moment of complete silence as everyone read the new letters displayed over Troy's number 8.
D-R-O-V-E-R.
The locker room exploded.
"Where the fuck is Harris, he is missing this?" Ilya screamed. "Find Harris! Everyone, get that man in here right now!"
"I'm here, I'm here! I wouldn't miss this." Harris peeked around the entrance corner and waved, his phone sticking out to record everything.
"Get in here! Where's the champagne?" Harris was pulled into the fray, everyone clapping them both on the back and shoving them towards each other until they were standing arm and arm. Someone started cheers, which went on several more times than the mandated three.
"Hey, home come you didn't invite us to the wedding? I was looking forward to walking you down the aisle as your new father figure." Ilya joked, pulling Troy in for a hug as Shane did the same for Harris.
"Oh my god, you're one to talk." Harris rolled his eyes.
"Hey. I said we could re-do it for a vow renewal in the future. I already bought the chairs." Shane huffed.
"We're going to do a big reception out on the farm once the leaves turn, it's going to be bee-yoo-tee-ful!" Harris gushed.
"Just wanted to get ahead of the season with the name change, is all." Troy said. "Guess I should get on with updating this." He looked up at his stall label.
"Be my guest." Harris told him happily. Troy got the new placard out of the box and peeled the protective tape off. Then he slid his old placard out of the holder, and replaced it reverently with his new one.
TROY DROVER
Troy held up the old metal placard. "What the hell do I do with this?"
"Jump over it like a broom!" Bood called.
"What?"
"Do it! Do it! Do it!" The guys began chanting.
"Okay, fine. Weirdos." Harris groused. He plucked it out of Troy's hand and tossed it on the ground in front of them, then clasped Troy's hand in his and kissed it.
"You ready?" He asked.
"You're asking me now? After we already signed the paperwork?" Troy couldn't help the genuine grin from breaking across his face.
"Ready? Set? Go!" They jumped over the tiny metal placard to uproarious applause.
"Now what?" Harris asked, nudging it with his toe.
"Now I think I get to do this." Troy picked up the placard and swiftly snapped it over his knee. Then he pulled Harris in for the longest, best kiss of his life. The Centaurs practically broke the sound barrier with their cheering.
Later that night as the starting lineup was announced, Troy found himself holding his breath. He'd been moved last in the line, ostensibly so the announcer could say something about his name change. Despite knowing it would probably be okay, and that the fans had welcomed him with (mostly) open arms after he came out, he still felt like his stomach was doing flips.
"And now, the Centaurs extend a special congratulations to our number 8, Troy Drover, who recently opened a new chapter with his husband Harris. Join us in giving the newlywed Drovers an extra-special welcome tonight."
The spotlight turned on Harris, who was in his usual spot by the tunnel with his phone out to record. He waved at the Jumbotron camera shyly. Troy broke ranks by skating over to him, tapping the glass gently with his stick.
"Love you." He said.
"Love you!" Harris blew him a kiss. "Good luck out there, Drover!"
Troy skated back to the line to the outrageous noise of the entire Censplex celebrating washing over him.
"You wear your new name well. Maybe I can convince Shane to take my name when we do our vow renewal." Ilya mused as Troy skated past him.
"As if." Shane scoffed from his spot directly behind Ilya. "One Rozanov is bad enough."
Troy watched as Harris was handed an enormous posterboard by a fan, which looked like it had been hastily amended in the last thirty seconds to say I HEART TROY (Drover!). Harris raised it for the Jumbotron camera, and the crowd went wild all over again.
"It's nice to wear a name I can be proud of again." Troy said, meaning to speak quietly enough that the others wouldn't hear. But when Ilya's head turned slightly to look at him, he knew he'd heard.
"I know how you feel. Love does that." Ilya said.
"Yes it does." Shane echoed quietly.
Suddenly, Troy's eyes began to burn, and for the second time in his life, he was staring up at the rafters of the Censplex with happy tears in his eyes.