Chapter Text
Luca shifts in the hard plastic chair and checks his phone again for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. He hates hospitals. He hates the smell, the sounds, the people hurrying along the hallways, the sad looks, the whispered voices, the bored looks – those are even worse. He hates being here. He hates the waiting. He hates the clenched feeling in his chest. He hates the way his thoughts are too loud like the buzzing overhead lights are too loud. He knows, logically, that he will be fine, but tell that to his anxious brain. Tell that to his heart – his heart that belongs to the man on the surgeon’s table at this very moment. Ilya and Shane come back into the waiting room and set down a coffee and a muffin for Luca. He looks up to thank them but the words get caught behind the lump in his throat. Shane smiles and silently places a hand on his shoulder. Ilya quietly sits beside him and puts his big hand on his knee. Luca is so grateful that they don’t expect him to talk. They are just here – quietly holding the space with him. It is exactly what he needs right now. He checks the time again – he should have news by now. He really hopes that no news was good news, but maybe it means that something is wrong. It can’t be wrong. He can’t lose Cliff. He just can’t.
____
The season had started just as they expected. Luca had gone back to Ottawa for training camp and Cliff had stayed behind in Boston. They talked as much as they could and texted all the time. They never missed a pregame check-in or a good night text, no matter what the day held. They FaceTimed when they weren’t too tired and were grateful for the recommendations for toys and tripods that they got from their friends who had done the long-distance thing. Luca was thriving on his team – which had long been called the gayest team in the league. He was playing well on the ice and he had love in his life off the ice. All of his team mates were so excited for him when they saw how happy Luca was.
Luca obviously wasn’t happy all the time as he missed his boyfriend terribly, but the fact that he had finally found love, made up for the temporary feelings of loneliness. Luca found a lifeline in a most unexpected place - the living room of their veteran goalie. Wyatt Hayes had noticed Luca looking blue after a particularly gruelling practice one afternoon. After he had showered and changed, he sat down beside Luca and asked if he was doing okay. Luca admitted that some days were harder than others when he was away from Cliff. Wyatt had invited Luca over for pizza and a movie - his wife, Lisa, was busy at the hospital. Wyatt told him about how hard it had been for them when he first moved to Ottawa and Lisa had temporarily stayed behind in Toronto. They had been apart for most of his first season as a Centaur because she had to find a new job in Ottawa and finish out her contract at the hospital in Toronto. It felt really nice having someone to talk to that knew how he was feeling.
Wyatt, known for seeing things that others miss – he is a goalie after all- had been noticing Luca’s sadness that ebbed and flowed. He told Luca that he was always welcome to come over, invited or not. They spent countless hours together throughout the fall and winter, watching Marvel and DC movies in Wyatt’s den. Wyatt had very strong opinions on both universes that Luca couldn’t quite keep up with. Luca found the DC art, in the movies anyways, was too dark for his liking. But in that living room buried under a fuzzy blanket, Luca found a friend who would always listen. He never pressed Luca to be anyone or anything he wasn’t.
Cliff’s reality was a bit different as he started the new season. The Bears locker room had never been a toxic environment, but they had never had a queer player (that they were aware of) before. Ilya had always made sure it was a decent environment and Cliff, when he took over the C, had kept it that way, but Cliff felt some wariness that he didn’t expect. The thing with the hard launch over summer, was that he didn’t have to make an announcement to his team, but still wanted to let them know that he was the same guy that they had played with for years. Most of his team mates either were happy for him or teased him in good humour, but a few just didn’t engage the way they used to and it made Cliff sad. He loved these guys like brothers and though no one was outright bad about it, it wasn’t the same. It made Cliff so happy that Luca did have a team that was his family. He was on the most open and accepting team in the league and Cliff loved that he was safe there.
The other thing that he didn’t expect, though he guessed that he was just naïve, were the slurs that were thrown at him on the ice. In their first game against Toronto, he had heard the most foul and sickening language directed at him. He tried his best to not let it get in his head, but it was disgusting. The things they said about him hurt, but what really bothered him were the things they were saying about Luca. Vic sat next to him on the bench at one point and asked him what was up. Cliff couldn’t even bring himself to repeat some of the things that had been said, it made bile rise up in his throat. Vic was appalled - the refs weren’t enforcing the new anti-hate-speech rules so after the first intermission the Bears took care of protecting their own. It turned into an ugly and physical game. When it was over, Luca called Cliff from a hotel in St. Louis, wondering about the shift in their play-style mid-game. When he asked Cliff what had happened, Cliff broke down.
“How do you do it?”, he asked, “This was just one game. In one game I heard so much disgusting language. I almost threw up, Luca, right there on the ice. Please tell me that they don’t say this to you. Please tell me that this is because they think it’s … me being… I don’t know… a faker, a mid-life crisis gay, an asshole that is doing it because he thinks it’s cool? I know that I am not, but… is that why it was so bad? Oh Luca, please, please tell me it’s not this bad for you.”
Luca had never heard Cliff so upset, it kind of broke his heart. He quietly interrupted, “Babe, Cliff, I wish I could tell you that it is fine – that I am left alone, but the reality is that I am used to it. I have heard it all my life. I have always been a target because I am soft and different and artistic. I am too much and not enough. I always have been, so I got used to tuning it out. Now, I have a great team that reminds me that none of it is true. They let me be me. I play hard and put up stats and prove myself over and over, so I know what they say isn’t true. I know that they are just trying to get into my head. This is their problem, not mine. That is what they are trying to do to you too. I know it is easier said than done, but you have to tune them out. Out-skate them, out-score them, win the battles in the corner, maybe check a little harder than necessary, but no initiating fights – you can’t score from the penalty box, babe. Leave it on the ice and then call me. I will always be here for you. I will always remind you of who you are and what you are worth. You are everything to me, Cliff Marlow, and in me, you will always have a soft place to land.”
Cliff was a teary mess as he ended the FaceTime call. He flopped down on his bed. He was so exhausted but could not turn off his brain. He had never been someone who was considered an “other” before. He had always had straight-white privilege, he realized. He had always been a hockey player first and a womanizer party-boy second and that had been acceptable. Now he was a Queer Hockey Player. Somehow, who he loved affected what he did on the ice when it never had before. It was fucking ridiculous. He had to do more. It wasn’t enough to just not engage in the hate, he had to do more to stop it. After hours of tossing and turning, while his mind raced, Cliff fell asleep close to dawn.
Over the next few days, Luca tried to call Cliff more often. He could tell that the game against Toronto had really rattled him. He was in his head. Wyatt noticed that Luca was stressed about something. When Luca told him all about the Toronto game and the subsequent spiral, he offered a piece of advice. For the year that they were apart, he and Lisa wrote letters back and forth - real letters that you have to mail. Sometimes they included gifts, but every week, there was something delivered to at least one of them. They couldn’t see each other, but this way they knew, without a doubt, that the other was thinking of them. It made them feel loved.
Luca loved this idea and went home and immediately poured his heart out onto the page. He, of course, also included a small sketch of the worst Toronto homophobe falling flat on his face on the ice, to make Cliff laugh. He popped it into the mail before he second-guessed the gesture – he had a problem with over-thinking things. He also ordered an extravagant flower arrangement in a lead crystal vase, from an upscale florist in Boston, to be delivered to Cliff’s apartment with a card that simply read: You are loved. Cliff called him 2 days later when they both arrived. It did the trick, Cliff knew everything was going to be okay. He could do this. Loving Luca Haas made anything and everything possible.
Another game against a homophobic team had Cliff spiralling even before the opening puck drop. The pregame text from Luca just said, “You got this, babe. Send Montreal home crying.” That was the plan. Unfortunately, plans don’t always come to fruition. Late in the second period, Boston was leading 4-2. Cliff was doing better with ignoring the slurs and playing a smart but aggressive game. Then, when he was deep in Montreal’s end near the boards going for the loose puck, Comeau cross-checked him from behind and he lurched forward into the boards at a funny angle, slamming his bad shoulder into the glass. He crumpled onto the ice. He stayed down after the whistle blew - his shoulder was screaming in pain. He let his team mates help him up and the trainer helped him off the ice.
Luca had a night off and was watching the game with LaPointe and Young. The period ended and the bobble-head commentators were discussing the hit at the break. It was a dirty hit, there was no question, the question was if Marlow would be returning in the third. As it turned out, the answer was no. Cliff was nowhere to be seen when the teams took the ice again. Luca was worried. He was pacing around the living room and texting his boyfriend, who wasn’t responding. The boys were concerned, watching Luca pace a pattern into the rug. They asked if Luca had anyone’s number in Boston that might be able to get more information. Luca did - he got Kat Carmichael’s number at St. Simon’s party. Maybe she could find out more.
Luca
hey kat
Kat
OMG Luca! Are you okay?
That was such a dirty hit
Comeau is a dirtbag
Luca
is he okay
he’s not answering
Kat
Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have messaged you
Ryan said that it was his bad shoulder
He never lost consciousness
Lots of pain
Went to the hospital for imaging and pain control
I am sure he will message soon
If I hear more, I will let you know
Luca
thanks kat
The fact that he hadn’t hit his head gave Luca a bit of peace, but he was going to worry until he saw his man, even if it was through a phone screen for now. A few hours later, the FaceTime notification came through. Luca answered right away. Cliff looked rough. He was obviously on some good pain meds though. “Oh, there’s my pretty boy. I miss you. I wish you were here right now. I wish I was there. I wish that that jackass hadn’t taken me out like that.” Luca shushed him and asked how he was feeling physically. “The pain meds are good. I feel nothing right now, but it was bad, Luca. I almost passed out from the pain. It was like fire and knives all down my arm and across my chest and back. Of course it was my bad shoulder. Rotator cuff and dislocation again. Imaging showed no new damage, but the orthopedic doc says that it is only a matter of time before I need to have a total replacement. At least, think that’s what she said. I am a bit loopy right now. Why aren’t you closer? I need you”, he whined. That made Luca’s stomach clench. He needed to be there too, but he had a home game tomorrow afternoon and then a short road trip. He wouldn’t be able to see Cliff for another 9 days, when they were scheduled to play in Ottawa. “I wish I was there too. I miss you. I want to crawl in beside you and hold you.” Cliff chuckled. He knew exactly where Luca would end up – with his nose tucked in to the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and sighing.
Right before Luca left on his road trip, a package came in the mail. It was a letter from Cliff and Luca’s favourite hooded sweatshirt – and it smelled like Cliff. Luca immediately put on the oversized hoodie and buried his nose into the fabric smelling the vanilla and sandalwood and Cliff – he sighed as he took the letter out of its envelope. Cliff had written about his injury, his recovery and his wish that he was with Luca. He wrote about how Comeau was disgustingly homophobic all game, as were Drapeau and Berkes. He wrote about wanting to do more to make hockey safer. He wrote about wanting a life with Luca after hockey. He wrote about how hockey wasn’t the most important thing in his life anymore. It had been, for as long as he could remember, but now Luca, and the life he wanted with him, was more important. That thought scared him, but excited him too. Luca clutched the letter to his chest as a tear threatened to fall.
Luca’s road trip had gone well and Cliff’s shoulder was getting better. The game in Ottawa was an afternoon game so they couldn’t see each other until afterwards, but would get the evening and night together before Cliff would have to leave. Luca ordered food to be delivered when they were back – though Luca had more pressing ideas of how they were going to spend their time. He had woken up every day this week hard as a rock and dreaming of Cliff’s huge body pinning him to the mattress. It had been way too long. The game was fun and physical. Cliff was back on the ice, but maybe getting a little less ice time than usual as his shoulder was still on the mend. When they crossed paths though, they were magnets. Always finding themselves in each others space. Their team mates were chirping them constantly to “get a room” or “keep it in their pants”. It was a fun game that saw the Centaurs come out on top. Luca hoped that he would too hee hee.
Cliff was dressed first and came to the Centaurs’ locker room to pick up Luca. The boys were on his case about being a blushing princess when his big strong man set foot in the room. Cliff blushed too, but walked right up to Luca, who was still only half-dressed, dipped him back and kissed him to the delight of the whole room. Harris happened to be there and caught the whole thing on camera – the clip would go viral before nightfall! Cliff visited with Roz and Barrett while Luca hurried into the rest of his clothes. When he finished, he grabbed Cliff’s hand and all but dragged him out of the room. He didn’t care how desperate he might have looked.
Once they were back at the apartment, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They didn’t make it past the entryway before their hands and mouths were grabbing and biting and kissing at whatever they could reach. Luca threw his arms around Cliff’s neck and he winced. The shoulder was obviously not better. This worried Luca. He knew that Cliff was able to make his own decisions but he also knew that the doctor had warned him that his shoulder was close to done. He made a note to discuss this when they weren’t about to devour each other. They fumbled their way down the hall shedding clothes along the way and tumbled into bed. The first round was much too quick for their liking, but each of them had been so on edge before they even had their clothes off. They laughed that they were like horny teenagers as they laid tangled in the sheets. Luca caged Cliff’s face in between his forearms and started kissing him along his jaw and down his neck when his stomach betrayed him, letting out an audible growl. They cleaned up and threw on pajama pants before moving to the kitchen island for a late dinner.
Luca gently brought up the subject of the hit and the shoulder. He knew that Comeau was an asshole, but when Cliff told him the vile things he had said to Cliff during the game, Luca saw red. Cliff was the kindest, most loveable human he had ever met and was everything that Luca could dream of in a boyfriend. The fact that someone like Comeau had him second-guessing himself and his worth as a man or a boyfriend was unforgiveable. Luca silently vowed to not let him get away with it. Cliff also admitted that the shoulder was still giving him grief, but not enough to bench him. He had played through worse and there had been zero question when it came to playing the game that day – he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. He loved playing against his boyfriend. He loved that they could bang into each other on the ice and then bang each other in his bed. Which, of course, led to exactly that. Cliff’s shoulder wasn’t in full working order, but it didn’t stop him from throwing Luca around and having his way with him. As he was looking down at that angelic face glistening with sweat, he thought “This is where I always want to be.” After another set mind-blowing orgasms, they fell into each others arms and slept more soundly than they had in months.
After Cliff left to join his team on their flight back to Boston, Luca found himself in the spare bedroom that he had turned into an art studio. He was inspired. He grabbed an oversized canvas and his favourite acrylic paints. His brush started moving on the canvas faster than his mind could work. Soon, an abstract scene started to take shape. It was of the two of them – a passionate scene. It almost felt voyeuristic. It made you feel like you shouldn’t look but also couldn’t look away. As Luca painted, he imagined what they were feeling, what they were thinking, how their hearts were racing- breathing ragged. He was becoming more and more turned on. Caught up in the moment, he set down the brush and brought his had to his throat, imagining it was Cliff’s – firmly claiming him. He dragged his hand from his throat and down over his chest – stopping at his left pec, tweaking his nipple, drawing out a strangled moan. His hand had continued down his abdomen to the top of his shorts, before he realized that his paint covered hand had turned his own body into a sexy piece of art. He snapped a pic of his flushed and paint-covered torso in the full-length mirror and sent it to Cliff. He would still be on the plane, but Luca hoped it would bring a smile to his face when he got to Boston.
Smiling is not what happened when Cliff opened the message from his boyfriend. His face turned a vibrant shade of crimson and his mind short-circuited. Had he been thinking, the photo would not have still been open when Connors leaned over to see what had Cliff sputtering and gasping like a fish out of water. Even Connors, who is as straight as they come, could admit that this was one of the hottest images he had ever laid eyes on. Cliff gathered his wits and closed the photo until later, when he was alone, but it was too late. Connors was never going to let it go. Even though they had spent their morning enjoying each other, Cliff insisted on a sexy FaceTime call, and Luca was more than willing to oblige.
___
Thinking of the painting and the subsequent mirror selfie still makes Luca smile. He loves that Cliff is so turned on by him. Cliff’s love makes him feel bold and confident. Cliff’s love calms him when his mind races. Cliff’s love makes the sun warmer and colours brighter. He just hopes that his love gives Cliff strength as he lays on that operating table. Luca checks the time again. Surgery was supposed to take 2 hours and it has been 4. He puts his head between his knees and tries to breathe – it is not working. All he can think about was the last kiss they had shared – no it wasn’t the last – there would be more. It is so hard, when his heart is on that table.