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Troy was happy.
He really, truly, didn’t think he had ever been happier in his entire life.
He had a team that finally knew every part of him and accepted it all, a boyfriend who he would give up the world for and who he was finally confident would do the same, and a space in his phone where his fathers contact had once been but never would be again.
So he didn’t know why that ‘happy’ didn’t seem to last.
It wasn’t often now that Troy spent much time alone, between time with Harris and practise with the team, but when he was…Troy could feel that warm spark in his chest flicker just slightly, and he could never tell why.
It would happen at random times. When Harris fell asleep before him, when he was the last one in the showers after a game, when he took an uber home alone after celebrating with the team. Something inside of him would settle into a flat kind of sadness that was familiar but not welcome.
Troy did his best to ignore it. That was the obvious solution. If the sadness only came when he stopped to think, then he wouldn’t stop. It was a solution that worked, until it didn’t.
Harris wouldn’t be gone for long. He’d only left to let Chiron outside before they went to sleep, preparing for a long day of flights tomorrow for them both. The agreed upon plan had been for Troy to wash up and wait for him in bed after, then they could watch the newest episode of some cable show Harris liked before falling asleep.
Troy had been long since conditioned by the hockey lifestyle into taking short, barely warm showers. It was something Harris had been trying to convince him to take a small bit of joy in when he could, suggesting baths or simply longer, warmer showers.
Now was as good a time as any to take him up on that, when there was no time limit to their plans after and there was nobody else home for Troy to feel embarrassed about being caught by. He blamed Curtis for that one, the fear of doing something wrong in his own home.
He’d dropped one of Harris’ bath bombs into the tub at first before quickly fishing it back out. He didn’t need an overwhelming lavender smell flooding his senses while he tried to ‘relax’. He didn’t particularly like the idea of laying in water in silence either, but he wanted to at least try something relaxing.
As he lowered himself in, he tried hard not to think about what he feared he would feel while Harris was gone. In the rare moments where he let himself think about it, he had decided it probably wasn’t healthy to only feel happy when he was being observed. Everyone else seemed happy constantly. But maybe they were all doing the same thing, and simply hiding it better?
He closed his eyes, sinking deeper under the water until it covered everything but his face and the tip of his knees. The sudden weight of his body felt nice, grounding in a way he usually only got from physical affection, and he found himself enjoying the sound of the water around him as it filled his ears.
It was nice to float. So many of his days were spent pushing himself forward with no end in sight, so it felt like a relief to allow himself to go weightless.
Hockey had felt like floating for a short time. His father had always pushed him to the point of collapse, and Toronto had done much of the same, but there was a short period of time in his childhood where hockey had simply been where he’d gone to see his friends and bring home medals to show his mother.
Thinking about his childhood was one of those sure fire things that made Troy sad. For a long time, the memories had held only anger. Anger towards his father for his cruel ways, towards his mother for the lack of protection she offered, for himself at how his spineless attitude had stayed with him into adulthood.
As he got older, though, and Child Troy turned into more of a character he could distance himself from than a real memory, he could see the true sadness in the situation. The lack of options Troy had had in his own life.
The lack of escape.
It didn’t take much thought before Troy slipped fully under, keeping his eyes shut as the warm, flying feeling surrounded him fully. He could stay like that. His body was too heavy to lift now.
Troy had read a lot about different methods of taking your own life back in Toronto. Drowning had been a common one, but also one Troy had immediately crossed out, even when making his purely hypothetical list.
It sounded painful. Everyone who survived described the burning of your lungs, the pain of choking on the water, the sudden instinct from your body to fight for survival.
Troy didn’t feel like that now. It felt like he could breathe in and welcome that floating feeling inside of him too. Like he could finally be free of the burden on his soul if he flooded it and let his troubles rise to the top.
He had never considered how easy it would be.
Troy took a small breath in, and instantly pushed himself up. His lungs strained as he choked, trying to push out the few droplets of water he’d inhaled.
“Fuck-” He pushed his flattened hair back out of his face and finally opened his burning eyes again, for the first time since he’d gone under. Everything felt real, suddenly. He was in a bathtub he and Harris had bought together after the last one had cracked. There was speckles of toothpaste on the mirror where they’d brushed their teeth together this morning. The guest towels Harris had bought sat unused on the shelf.
His thoughts suddenly felt a lot more scary.
Troy heaved himself out of the tub, landing on the rug and quickly drying his body just enough to pull on a shirt as keys jingled in the front door.
He felt his face flush suddenly, as though he was a teenager with something to hide. A dirty secret.
“Troy?” Harris called out, before making a small ‘oh’ sound and quieting himself, as though Troy might be sleeping already. Well, he could have been.
Troy pulled on a pair of boxers and stepped outside the bathroom, lingering in a spot where he could watch as Harris dutifully put Chiron to bed. Or rather tried to, before the dog spotted Troy and came trotting over.
He crouched down. Chiron’s position shifted slightly, as though he was perking up, before nudging his nose against Troy’s hand.
“Smart dog” Troy mused.
“I thought you were sleeping,” Harris said as he followed Chiron down the hallway and kneeled down to their level. “Or in bed, at least. You took a long shower?”
“A bath” Troy corrected, his voice going hoarse for a moment. Chiron pushed his nose against his hand again, before resting his head firmly in Troy’s lap, putting pressure there.
“Oh,” Harris considered him for a long moment, one hand absently petting Chiron and the other reaching up to push Troy’s hair out of his eyes. “Was it okay?”
“I don’t know” was what Troy finally decided on. It wasn’t the baths fault his brain was fucked up, not really. His words wavered anyway, and he could tell that Harris noticed.
“Okay. Do you want to go to bed?”
Chiron yipped at that, nudging Troy one final time before seeming to decide that Harris had it handled and making his way towards the bedroom.
“He’s not meant to sleep in there,” Troy managed, though they both knew he didn’t intend to follow through on his words. Before he could properly process what he was meant to be doing, Harris was taking his hands and helping him up, guiding him towards their bedroom and helping him lay down on his side.
Chiron wasted no time before laying his body weight on top of him, his furry head resting on the dip of Troy’s waist and his tail wagging lazily once Harris lay down with them too.
“Do you want your show?” Troy managed. He reached a hand out and slowly unbuttoned the very top of Harris’ shirt, knowing how it caught his skin at times and frustrated him.
He felt normal, in a way. He was floating, but it was entirely different than how he was before. It wasn’t as nice, mainly. The guilt was crushing him too much for him to properly fly.
“It’s okay,” Harris’ smooth voice came back through the fog, alongside a warm hand that stroked Troy’s cheek before gently tilting his chin up.
He looked scared. No, not scared. Worried? Knowing, somehow, and understanding. As though he’d been waiting for something bad to happen and now it finally had.
“I’m sorry” was all Troy managed to say. He forgot sometimes that, as well as Harris knew him, he couldn’t always read his mind.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t want to leave you” He decided on. His breath was slowly leaving him again, the way it had in those countless seconds (minutes?) underwater. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me”
Harris faltered for a moment before nodding and stroking a thumb across Troy’s jaw. “I don’t want you to leave either. Were you…were you thinking about that? Leaving?”
Troy realised somewhere in his subconscious that his words could be misconstrued. It was easy to forget that Harris wasn’t magical. He felt magical. He felt like flying without the danger.
“Not leaving you,” He clarified, quieter now. It was cold in their bedroom, since it had been abandoned all day while they’d been out. Harris grabbed a blanket from the base of the bed and spread it across them both, making sure to keep Chiron’s head poking out.
“Then leaving who?”
Troy faltered for a moment. He didn’t know how to phrase what had happened. He hadn’t gone into the situation with any intentions that weren’t pure. He’d wanted to give himself a moment of happiness, ironically, and it had all gotten out of hand.
“It’s okay,” Harris cut in again before Troy could say much of anything at all. A hand tilted his chin up again, forcing eye contact that would usually make him squirm. Harris looked hurt, but even through the fog it was clear that it wasn’t from a place of offence. It was a mixture of fear and love that Troy figured only soulmates could muster. “I think I understand”
“I don’t wanna leave you” Troy stressed again. Chiron whined and pawed at his back.
Warm arms wrapped around his waist, disgruntling Chiron in favour of pulling Troy closer and almost suffocating him with the strength of it. Troy didn’t hug him back, and instead focused on taking in as much of that steady heat as he could, pressing his face into where Harris’s shirt had slipped off of his collarbone.
“I love you so much,” Harris whispered into Troy’s wet hair. “So, so, much. You know that, right?”
“I love you too” Troy mumbled.
“Do you know that I love you?”
Love wasn’t something Troy knew all that intimately. He knew what it presented as, thanks to his father, his past relationships and in a way, himself. He knew lust. He knew tolerance. He knew the kind of love that tried its best but ultimately wasn’t worth much at all, had learned it in spades from his mother.
In the end though, love was something that Troy had learned about in a landslide. He didn’t think anyone could meet Harris and not know what love is. What it felt like. How it carried you.
“I know” He replied, a bit more firm now. He pressed the weight of his head against Harris’ shoulder much like Chiron had done previously. “I love you too”
“I know” Harris replied far faster, his hand rubbing circles across Troy’s back in a poorly veiled attempt at keeping him close and safe. “You can talk to me”
“I know. I didn’t…” Troy sighed and reached out blindly behind him for Chiron, who licked the palm of his hand. “I didn’t know I had to. I swear, I wasn’t thinking about it. I’m happy”
“Maybe you’re not”
“What?” Troy pulled back just enough to see Harris’ face, searching for some kind of sign as to where that idea had come from. “No. Of course I’m happy. I have you, how could I not be?”
Harris sighed and cupped Troy’s face again, though he didn’t try to position it anywhere this time. He made a visible effort to soften his tone. “Troy, happy people don’t think about ‘leaving’”
Troy wavered for a moment. He could argue, could say that he wasn’t thinking about it really. He was just caught up in the moment. It was a split second thing. Then he realised happy people likely don’t get those either.
“I’m sorry” He repeated. Harris shook his head.
“No. No. It’s okay if you’re not happy. Sometimes it doesn’t have anything to do with your life. Sometimes you just can’t help it” The words seemed to pain Harris to say. Troy felt as though he owed him another apology.
“I think…” He started off slow, digging deep into his mind to find the few times he’d spoken about mental health in his entire life in hopes it would give him the words to say. “I think maybe it’s just catching up to me.”
“Maybe,” Harris said, though it sounded more like an agreement. “That’s okay too”
“How do I fix it?”
“Sleep, first” The shift in Harris was visible as he went from ‘understand’ to ‘fix’. He adjusted the pillow under Troy’s head and pulled him an inch closer again so they were firmly wrapped around each other. “We can fix it together, just not when we’re sleep deprived. Okay?”
“Okay” Troy looked up one last time, his nose brushing against Harris’ due to the close proximity. “I love you”
Harris smiled, and Troy felt the pressure that had lingered in him since entering the water finally lift. “You’ve said that.”
“Well it’s true.”
“I love you too”
“You better” Troy managed a small smile of his own, nudging their faces together as they both finally settled into the blankets and pillows.
The mattress dipped as Chiron moved, standing so he was lying between their legs and resting his head on top of Troy’s ankles. Harris glanced down.
“Maybe they failed him too early”
“Their loss” Troy decided, tugging on Harris’ shirt to bring him back down and slowly letting himself drift off with his face in the fabric, the warmth that came with being cared for finally flooding over him.