Work Text:
Fraser sat in the cold locker room. The bench was wooden and old. It's a miracle it didn't break under his weight. It was that kind of day. Everyone's acting weird, there's no one to talk to and on top of all of that baggage he had a shitty game. They lost 4 - 2 to the sharks. Fuuuccckkk..
His thoughts looped anyway. I should’ve done more. I should’ve been better. I should’ve—, it's like he'd never be satisfied with himself. Seeing the reflection of his face on the shiny pavement of the aquamarine lockers.
'It was just a small game.. nothing big..', Minten tried to console himself, but before he could, his eyes started watering, his throat tightened, his nose stung. It was over. The game was over. Yet he still clung to the weighing disappointment.
He had been feeling like this. For years. Even since he grew apart from Conny. Well.. Connor Bedard.
Fraser had gotten so used to calling him 'Conny', he forgot that Connor didn't even know about him anymore.
The two grew up together. Playing hockey in Minten's backyard, running through the Canadian forest during summer, the feeling of air running through your hair, muddy footprints in the soil, the giggling from the young, blonde boy attempting to catch up to you.
He missed it. I mean. Obviously anyone would miss the person you grew up with and suddenly separated after one of you moved away. (Ps it wasn't Fraser.)
He missed the way they would snicker under the blankets whenever one of them slept over and they stayed up reading and telling stories, the way they were always together in school. They'd always do school projects together, even homework. Whispering the answers to eachother during an important test ,(somehow they both always passed). it was like they were one soul separated into two different bodies.
Oh god how he yearned for those times.. before he became the blackhawk's golden boy, before the fame and media and just the chaos in general. Back to when it was all just so dishearteningly simple.
His phone pinged with a notification, 'I am sober || daily reminder to pledge'. Worst timing ever. Atleast it disconnected him from his limitless pondering.. kind of?
The days passed by with even more and more problems, injuries and just.. bad days.
At one point he started craving someone who'd understand. The torturous ache in his heart that never seemed to calm down. He was desperate. Therapy.. no.. that's too embarrassing?? Who would want to listen to the problems of a grown ass man?? Hotlines? A bit too risky for him.. then an idea popped into his head. Connor.
I mean the guy was his childhood bestfriend.. he'd listen to Fraser.. right.?? It was stupid, maybe. Not properly. But he was still the only person Fraser could think of who might actually get it.
His thumb hovered over the search bar for a second too long.
Then he typed: “Connor Bedard.”
And there it was.
Verified. @_connorbedard.
His stomach tightened.
Was he really doing this?
Why not?
He deleted the text and rewrote it multiple times, before finally choosing on a neutral but still kind of friendly message.
@fraserminten
"Hey, it's Fraser. I wanted to ask you if you had time to talk." 26/05/26, 17.34
That sounded ridiculous. Well Fraser couldn't go back now. If he deleted it, Connor would be wondering why was there a deleted message from his old bestfriend. He just had to wait it out, till Conny responded.
After days of watching hockey highlights, going out with his friend group (which he never really felt part of), Connor finally responded.
@_connorbedard
"Yeah, of course. What's up?"
31/05/26, 11.11
Really? Such a non-committal answer? After all what they had experienced? Fraser's brows furrowed. I guess it was better than nothing.
@fraserminten
"I guess I just wanted to talk to you. Ever since you moved away we haven't really been in contact, yknow."
31/05/26, 11.13
He waited a few minutes for Connor's response again, but it didn't come. The small, green ball was right next to Connor's profile picture, why wasn't he responding?
Did he have someone else?
Fraser's heart started beating faster.
Why would you even think of that!? He's probably just texting someone else, like his manager or something.
It's not like he's your boyfriend or something..
Ping.
@_connorbedard
"Do you still live near XXXX? We could go out for coffee sometime and talk. I missed you."
31/05/26, 11.22
Wait what? Coffee!?
Frasers eyes widened. With Connor? His Conny? Really? After all of these years? All of this distance?
@fraserminten
"Yeah of course. Does tomorrow 5pm work for you .?"
31/05/26, 11.23
@_connorbedard
"Well I guess it's settled then. Let's meet up at the XXXX cafe."
31/05/26, 11.23
The day passed by extremely slowly. He had another game against a team whose name he was too tired to remember.
How has it gotten this bad?
He's always left alone. Whether it's walking in a group, talking to others or being told to pair up during practice, he's always left alone.
It's like all of his friends start whispering to eachother whenever he's around and touching him for no reason.
It's usually just shoulder poking and resting their heads on his shoulder but he still feels deeply uncomfortable.
He hadn't had a partner.. well.. like.. ever? He had always been single and alone. Meanwhile everyone around him were in happy relationships.
It's almost like he was unlovable. No one showed interest in him. And it upset him more than it needed to.
He went to sleep at 01.41 AM. It was already the first of June. The day when he was gonna meet up with Connor. But he still needed to get some rest.
The trees swayed wildly outside as the moonlight poured into his room
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Fraser jumped up from his bed.
"What the fuck.." he grumbled, irritated by the loud, boxy alarm clock beeping right next to his nightstand.
"07.30"
Were the red, thick numbers that shone from the gray timepiece.
He still had around... nine hours and thirty minutes till he needed to meet up with Connor.. thats.. a LOT...
He spent most of the day taking care of his appearance. (Not like he doesn't do it every day)
But more like plucking the stray eyebrow hairs, shaving the very light stubble on his face. Ect.
After all of that he put on a clean but comfortable outfit. Slightly baggy jeans with a large, beige knit sweater with some kind of white Calvin Klein low top trainers. He actually looked kind of good. His clear glasses topped off his look.
At 4.30pm he started moving towards the cafe with his car.
Fraser arrived at the coffee bar they agreed to meet at.
It was 4.50pm, he was a bit early, but it didn't matter much.
Infact, he already saw Connor sitting at one of the tables, scrolling on his phone.
Gosh he looked so different from the version Fraser had pictured in his head.
Maybe even.. a bit cuter?
Ssh! Fraser don't think of that!!
"Uh. Hey." He blurted out incidentally without thinking. Who starts off a conversation like that? Uh, he—
Before he could start overthinking, Connor was already looking up at him with a smile.
"Hey, Fras."
Fras? FRAS??? After a whole decade!?
"Hey.. Ahem.. Connor.." Wow. He sounded so embarrassing.
"You said you wanted to talk to me. Sit down, will you?"
The past few minutes proceeded with awkward jokes, Connor talking about his life and hockey.. at one point Fraser zoned out.
"Hey? You okay?"
He immediately snapped out of it and stared up at Connor, his ex-bestfriends, now friends gray-blueish eyes were staring up at his own light blue ones.
"Yeah. Sorry. Just.. a bit.. bit.. distracted."
Connor nodded. "Im always here if you need me."
They continued talking, but it was still painfully uncoordinated.
Like two pepole trying to reconcile a relationship where they once knew everything about eachother.
Both trying to act causal...
"Soo... How's Melanie?" Goodness Gracious. Really Fraser? Did you have to ask about his mother? Anything else.. ANYTHING else..—
"She's doing well." Connors voice stayed neutral.
"Mhm. She's a nice woman." He muttered under his breath, hoping Connor wouldn't have heard him.
They talked about their lives, careers, family (vaguely)..
Connor came to the cafe by foot, Fraser decided to be such a gentleman and drive Connor home.
They slid into the front seats of the car and Fraser started the car. It wasn't anything fancy but still cost.. a lot..
Connor's coffee was sitting in the cup holder inbetween them.
His hand moved to the gearstick and accidentally brushed against Connor's when he was reaching for the coffee.
Fraser had to force his eyes onto the road, trying desperately to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.
A few uncomfortable minutes into the car ride and Connor spoke up again.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot—” he immediately coughed, trying to mute what he was saying.
he resumed. “I mean… it’s been a while.”
Fraser's mind started rushing.
Did he feel the same way?
I- hopefully?
“Yeah… it has.” Fraser sighed, then..
Silence.
No one wanted to speak after Connor’s almost-confession.
Connor was staring out the window, Fraser was gripping the steering wheel too hard. The radio playing quietly as the Streetlights passed over their faces.
The plants flashed vividly through the windows, they weren't really visible since it was dark outside.
The world outside seemed almost peaceful, unlike the thick tension in the car.
The silence continued till they reached the city.
Fraser braked at a red light a bit too hard.
Connor’s hand instinctively lands on Fraser’s arm to steady himself.
Neither of them pulled away.
They arrived at Connor's place and he got out without a word, Fraser stayed in the car, staring out of the window.
He glanced up briefly as Connor entered the apartment complex.
There was something on the seat Connor was seated in.
Something gray, and fluffy.
A blackhawks hoodie with the number 98.
How original.
Hopefully Connor knows he won't be getting it back any time soon.
Fraser wore it for days on end after he found it.
Family dinners? Check
Practice? Check.
Cousins birthday party? Check.
He was sitting on the same wooden, worn bench in the locker room. Alone again. But this time it felt different
This time he had someone.
Not officially.
But someone who would listen, and someone who cares.
For once.
He picked at the small cotton balls on the hoodie that had formed from wearing it so much.
The door opened and a familiar figure walked in.
"I've been wondering where my hoodie was."
Wait. What?
It was Connor.
What was he doing here?
Fraser stayed quiet and looked up at the other man.
The sight of him was one that his eyes had accustomed to.
It seemed like a few minutes passed with the two of them just staring at eachother.
"Are you gay?" Connor suddenly blurted out.
Where'd he get that from!?
Fraser thought that he had been good at hiding it.
I mean whenever he was out with his friends he never joined in on the banter that was against pepole like himself.
Was that the reason? Is that how Connor had figured it out?
"What? No!? Where did yo-!?"
Before Fraser could continue his lying, Connor's lips were suddenly on his.
Warm and Inviting.
He eased into it.
God knows how many times he dreamed of it.
-THE END-