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Despite his best efforts to slip away unnoticed, Luca was in fact dragged out to the Kingfisher. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to go—it had been a while since he had seen Meri and it would be good to catch up, if not also maybe end up spending the night at his place as well. He just wasn’t entirely in the mood to go out. He would have been great with hanging out at the hotel and then getting a car to Meri’s place.
But here they were, settled into a circular booth tucked away in the back of the bar. Scott and Kip were more in the center with Shane and Ilya on their left and Troy at the other edge. Luca was between Troy and Meri, who was furthest on this side.
“So how do you two rookies know each other?” Scott asked. “Seemed rather friendly earlier.”
Friendly. Sure, grandpa.
“Oh, we were on the world juniors team for a few years together. Right, capitaine?” Meri knocked his shoulder into Luca’s.
“Oh my god, still with that nickname?”
“I remember a time you weren't complaining about it.”
Luca downed the rest of his mocktail. He would absolutely need some actual alcohol for this night if this was how it was going to go. “Jesus fuck. At least let me get drunk before you start flirting with me again.”
“Of course,” he said, placatingly. “Still the same order?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Meri slid out of the booth to order, presumably for the two of them.
“So,” Troy said, raising his eyebrows. “What's the story there?”
“There's no story,” Luca grumbled. “He's an old friend.”
“Oh, yeah. ‘Friend.’ And Shane is just my roommate,” Ilya said, a teasing lilt in his voice.
“A roommate that has to deal with your dirty socks everyone,” Shane muttered.
“You love me.”
“I feel like we shouldn't pressure Luca into saying anything he doesn't want to,” Scott attempted to say, but Kip and Ilya booed him.
“That's no fun, babe,” Kip said, leaning even more into his husband's shoulder. They were cute together, even if it was a bit sickeningly sweet at times. “Besides, they were literally flirting in front of us. Spill, Luca.”
“I'm too sober for this.” He cleared his throat. “We really did just play together a few times on the same world juniors team. He was on a different team in Zurich, so we also played against each other a bit too. He's a flirt with everyone, though. It's nothing special.”
“Aw, you wound me. And I thought we were going to go home together.” Meri took his spot next to Luca again and slid him his drink. “Obviously no Röteli, but still a cherry and coke.”
“Merci.” Luca, in his peripheral vision, saw Ilya smirking at him. Luca also ignored it in favor of taking a sip. Definitely different than back home, but he also had no expectations of it being the same. It was still good.
“C’est bon.”
“Tu pourrais me remercier d’une autre façon (You could thank me another way),” he said, putting his arm around Luca’s shoulders.
He hummed. “Ouais, peut-être. Si tu peux me convaincre (Yes, maybe. If you can convince me).” He leaned into Meri’s side. He was very warm, and even with the Kingfisher and the alcohol warming him up, it was a welcome feeling.
Shane choked on his ginger ale. “I do in fact speak French,” he said once he stopped coughing.
“Oh my god.” He could feel his face burning up. “Please ignore everything you just heard.”
“Or don’t.”
“I swear to fucking god—”
“You’re acting like you’ve never said worse.”
“Ich brauche, dass du verdammt noch mal die Fresse hältst, oh mein Gott— (I need you to shut the fuck up, oh my God—)”
“C’est littéralement—”
“Guys, it’s fine. I’ve heard so many people say worse,” Shane interrupted before they could really start going at it. Except the little telling smile had Luca thinking that he knew why they were starting to argue like this. Oh my god, he was not drunk enough for this.
“Hunter, it is not past your bedtime yet? Kip, this must be elder abuse, no?” Ilya grinned, and the attention was taken off of them.
Kip laughed. “You weren’t concerned about elder abuse when you were checking him earlier tonight.”
Hunter rolled his eyes good naturedly.
“You’re acting like you’re not right up there in age with them,” Troy added, taking a sip of his drink.
“No, Barrett? Betrayal from my own team? You think you know someone.” He shook his head with dramatic disappointment.
“Such a drama queen,” Kip said.
“I am not! If anything, it is Barrett. Do you know how many times…” And that was all that it took to get Ilya to launch into a dramatic—and only slightly—exaggerated story of some situation they had found themselves in a few weeks ago during some roadie.
It was a good night out. The drinks let everyone wind down faster than they would have after the adrenaline high of the game earlier, and the chirps stayed friendly and light-heartedly all night. Luca’d had enough interactions with drunk hockey players who thought they were so much cooler than they were and it made him appreciate how truly genuine everyone on this team was. Like yes, Bergy and Pointy could get a bit snippy and messy, and sometimes the team would be a bit too loud, but in their heart of hearts, they were good people.
“You like your team then? Everyone is good?” Luca found himself asking. He was just a bit more than tipsy, but it was a good buzz.
“Yes, it is a good locker room,” Meri replied, a genuine smile on his face. Luca wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination, but he did like having to slightly tilt up to make eye contact. “And yours?”
“They are all very nice. Very gay. Sometimes I wonder how I ended up with such a good team,” he confessed. “It is so different than we thought it could be, no?”
It was almost surreal to think that Hunter’s kiss seen ‘round the world was only five years ago. So many players—even other than Troy, Shane, and Ilya—felt more comfortable talking about queer subjects, some even coming out. Price and Bennett were retired, but they weren’t hiding their relationships. Luca felt overwhelmed with how surrounded by queer players he was, with three other players on his team, never having to feel alone or singled out for being gay.
“We’re on the gayest teams in the MLH, aren’t we? Can you imagine telling that to fifteen year old Meri and Luca?”
A wry laugh slipped out. “No,” he agreed. “Definitely not. This is good, though.”
“Yeah.”
They let the silence settle over them. Ilya and Shane had left somewhat earlier in the night, and Troy had excused himself shortly after to call Harris before bed. Kip and Scott were still inside, but it made sense that they wouldn’t leave until closing. Meri decided he wanted a smoke before also going back to his place, and Luca had also decided to tag along. It was getting late anyways, and there was a non-zero chance that he would end up in Meri’s bed by the end of the night. So here they found themselves leaning against the brick wall, waiting for the car that Meri had called and the one Luca had not.
“Do you have a light?” he asked, his cigarette between his teeth. He did, and held it up so the end lit up as he inhaled. “It has been a while. No weed?”
“No weed,” Luca said, a bit sadly. “You can’t take it across the border, and I am not 21 yet.”
“Ah. You cannot buy it here for a while.”
“No. But next time you come to Ottawa, we should smoke, yeah?”
Meri exhaled. “Yes. Or now, too. Do you want?”
Luca didn’t smoke cigarettes unless he was drunk—“drunk cigarettes don’t count” had been said too many times to count, by him and his friends—and he was tipsy enough to take the proffered cig. The sharp smoke against the back of his throat was familiar in an equally nostalgic way. “It has been a while.”
He accepted it back and took another drag, then flicked off the glowing embers. “How are Hanna and Sophie? Still doing good?”
“Ja. Hanna is an economist with the treasury now, and Sophie just got a job at a new hospital.” He smiled thinking about his sisters. He missed his family—missed being babied but also just missed how deeply familiar everything was in Zurich.
It seemed that Meri was picking up on his mood, because he nudged Luca’s shoulder. “It is good to have a bit of home, sometimes. I have that one snack you would always have after practice, actually.”
“Are you serious? I cannot find that anywhere in Canada!”
He shrugged. “I had my parents ship it.”
“I cannot believe I did not think of that.”
“Well,” he said, smiling coyly. “You can always come over to have some. When else is a better time?”
With perfect timing, the car he had called pulled up to the curb. He dropped the cig and put it out with his heel. “Tu as encore besoin d’être convaincu (Do you still need convincing)?”
Luca grinned and let himself be led by his belt loop.
“And where are you coming from?” Bood asked, grinning far too widely for 9 AM, in Luca’s opinion. It seemed like at least part of the team was milling around in the lobby to go to a breakfast spot together, and that unfortunately meant they got to witness his walk of shame back to his hotel room. In different clothes than he had gone out last night.
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that shirt,” Young commented, and Luca scowled.
“What, do you have my closet memorized?”
“You’re acting like you have any band shirts in your closet. Especially in that style.”
He looked down at the shirt he was wearing. The clothes he had been in last night were…not usable without being laundered, so he had stolen something out of Meri’s closet. It was not the first time, but since he had woken late (and Meri wasn’t awake by the time Luca had to leave) he just chose the first thing that he was able to grab. Which was not a style that Luca generally wore. This team was way too fucking nosy.
“Maybe I am branching out.”
“Ooh, Haasy’s first walk of shame?” Of fucking course this was the moment that Ilya decided to stroll in. “They grow up so quickly.”
“Definitely not the first,” he said under his breath, but apparently not quietly enough.
“Oh?” Now Ilya looked really intrigued. Bood, Young, and Hazy—this team was too nosy for their own fucking good—were also looking at him with some combination of shock, horror, and pride.
“This team knows too much about each other,” Luca complained.
“I’d argue we don’t know enough,” Young said, grinning. “We didn’t know where you were last night, who you spent it with, who gave you those hickeys.”
Bergy wasn’t awake enough to make any comments but he exhaled sharply in some resemblance to a snicker.
“Okay, okay. We’ll let Luca have his privacy.” Thank you, Bood. “Who he goes home with is none of our business unless he wants to share with the class.” Nevermind, fuck you too.
“I hate you all.”
“You love us,” Ilya said in a sing-song voice, putting Luca in a headlock that he immediately struggled against. Which is also how Shane found them only a few moments later, coffee in hand and bag slung over his shoulder.
“I don’t even want to ask.” And he left. Luca had never agreed with the saying, ‘never meet your heroes’ more.
On the bus to their next game in New Jersey, Holmberg (now more awake) whispered, “So are you going to be seeing him again?”
Luca shoved him onto the floor.