Work Text:
Stevie Li liked his name well enough. It started as a necessity, because calling a little Chinese-Canadian boy the name of a middle-aged white man, Steve, was just too absurd. He supposed at 23 he was still too young to be called Steve, so Stevie it was. His fellow tenor in the Ottawa Gay Man’s Choir, Jackson, joked that he could marry their imperious salt-and-pepper polo-shirt wearing choir director Joel Stevens and be Stevie Stevens. God, he hoped it didn’t show on his face how much he would freaking love that. At least he would never have the most ridiculous name in the choir. That would always belong to Tootsie, a name apparently inspired by the fact that Tootsie looked like Dustin Hoffman back in the 80’s. Now he was a wizened old man in a wheelchair who could barely warble his notes, but every member of the choir would die for him. He made terrible crude jokes and always brought his equally ancient chihuahua, Shitty, with him, but he had seen everything and knew everybody, a true queer elder for the ages.
Everyone was reminded of how much Toostie had seen when the Hollandar-Rozanov video dropped. Choir practice was a wash, even Joel couldn’t get them back on track. It was just all the members who knew hockey telling all the members who didn’t hockey how earth-shattering an event this was.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Stevie said after the umpteenth watch of the short clip followed by the umpteenth declaration that they were just both so hot. Even this Hayden Pike character was pretty cute. Hockey players, who knew?
“Yuna Hollander, that’s Shane Hollander’s momager, has got to get them in a duel Calvin Klein ad, like stat” announces Jackson.
“No you horny idiot,” Stevie laughs, “what’s going to happen with them in the league? Like the MHL has never had players dating each other? Even with Scott Hunter coming out like last year and that Troy Barrett guy, this is new.”
“The league seems pretty good about Hunter and Barrett, but who knows what’s going on behind the scenes.” Joel states.
“Hrrmph, the Russian will be fine, if never going home to your country ever again is fine but golden boy is a goner” Tootsie rasps out like he’s talking about the weather.
“What do you mean, a goner? He’s Shane Hollander! He’s won like 5 stanley cups and they have his picture in the airport and he doesn’t even play in Ottawa!?” Stevie yelps.
“MMMmmm” Joel hums, “yeah I can see it. Not to be crass, but that boy is a bottom. Gay is ok if you’re still a man, but bottoms don’t get that kind of credit.
“Fucking shit” Stevie groans to himself. Joel is right. Hollander just melts into Rozanov like his arms are the safest place in the world. It’s kind of a beautiful vulnerable thing, but the world isn’t kind to vulnerable men on the internet, certainly not in hockey. Joel doesn’t even the know the Asian of it all, though he has probably read an academic book on race theory in his sexy bifocals about it. He hasn’t heard the lady-boy jokes like Stevie has, the tiny dick shit. Stevie sinks into his folding chair and signs deeply.
—-------------------
A few months later, Tootsie was proven correct. Ottawa celebrates Ilya Rozanov like a king and Montreal beats Shane Hollander down like an unwelcome dinner guest. It left a deep painful twist in Stevie’s stomach to see the Metro’s and their coach sneer at him, fans harass him, and the organization do nothing. It felt like every time he’d been called a slur. As predicted, Shane was down, but luckily not out. Stevie let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when it was announced that Shane was traded to the Centaurs. Jackson said it was a once-in-a-hundred years level fuck up. Montreal should have demanded a whole second team for Hollander’s contract. The only other single player that was even in his league was Rozanov, and now they were playing together.
Since the Ottawa Gay Men’s Choir had become a de-facto Ottawa Centaurs fan club, next practice was all a-buzz at the news.
“It’s just so crazy” Jacob C. whined, a newer member, still in college, “Montreal is like so gay?” How could they not be cool with Shane? Montreal Pride is insane!”
“Hhhhmp, Montreal is fruity as fuck, but not the Metros baby” Tootsie says, stroking a shivering Shitty, “Back in my day, we’d cross the street when we saw any fuckheads in Metros jersey’s walking our way.”
“Hey Tootsie, you know anyone on the Motreal’s Gay Men’s Choir? I bet they’re furious to be losing Hollander” Jackson asks.
“Ah yes, a few old fogeys, Jack Blanc, their so-called director still owes me money. $200 since 1998! I should charge interest!”
Now that gave Stevie an idea. The MHL and the Metros thought it was in their best interest to crush their best player for daring to take it up the ass and like it. They thought that they could collect a few tokens, especially since Hunter was going to have to retire soon anyway, call themselves diverse and sweep it all under the rug. But the LGBTQ+ community wasn’t in the shadows anymore, we are fucking center stage, Stevie thought.
“Hey Joel, can I talk to you for a second?”
—-----------------------------
Turns out the Motreal’s Gay Men's Choir was absolutely furious, both at Hollander’s treatment and at losing him to Ottawa. They were not mad enough, however, to refuse to coordinate some queer revenge with the Ottawa’s Gay Men's Choir. The MHL were some sick bitches and the first game of the new season was Ottawa vs. Montreal in Montreal. Tickets were nearly impossible to get, but between the 2 choirs and their various sponsors they got 4 rows of 8 seats, 2 for Ottawa, 2 for Montreal. Joel and Jack deliberated heavily over who to bring. They wanted a balance of voices, the power to project in a crowded stadium, and to guarantee the safety of their members. They were, for sure, poking the bear with their plan. They may have to leave in a hurry to avoid security or quite frankly Metros fans of a certain type Tootsie was familiar with. Joel categorically refused to have Tootise with the main group.
“You’re in a fucking wheelchair Tootsie!” Joel nearly shouted at him at their war room meeting.
“You think I’m missing this?! You should be grateful! I’m the only one here who’s even been arrested for being a fag before! I want to cuss out more cops before I die!”
Jack talks him down, by buying him an accessible seat in the back of the section they’re in and giving him the job of lookout. Tootsie is very proud of the penis shaped whistle Jacob C. finds for him on Etsy. (The ticket does, however, not count towards Jack’s $200 90’s debt.)
The day of the game, Stevie is shaking with adrenaline. The energy outside the Bell Centre is very close to a riot. The police presence alone is alarming. When he and Jackson turn a corner, however, and see a crude effigy of Shane Hollander being burned, he goes calm. They’ve made the right decision. All the choir members have covered their choir t-shirts with their jackets, so they just look like a bunch of random fans nodding at each other in their section. The low roar from outside continues inside, rising to a fever pitch when Hollander comes out of the tunnel and all the way up to the first face-off. The Centaurs usually have Rozanov on first line, but history demanded that it be Hollander today. It gets eerily quiet for the puckdrop and shoots back up to a fever pitch as Hollander whisks the puck away in a millisecond of movement. Stevie screams everytime Jackson screams as he knows what’s going on. It’s too fast for Stevie to really understand, but he knows it’s rough. They’re all lots of checks and quite a few fights, but very few calls being made by the refs. The first period draw to a close 2-1 to Ottawa and now it’s show-time.
Joel stands up in the front and removes his coat, revealing a red Ottawa’s Gay Mens Choir shirt tucked into his slacks (the guys from Montreal are wearing black because they are in mourning). He turns and gestures for them to to all stand and disrobe. They do and some of the people in adjoining stop and stare. Joel takes a deep breath and whistles their starting note.
“It's okay to just admit that you're jealous of me
Yeah I heard you talk about me, that's the word on the street
You're obsessin', just confess it, put your hands up
It's obvious, I'm your number one”
Their first song, Von Dutch by Charlie XCX, is dedicated to Shane Hollander. Stevie wanted to do “Almost Romantic” by Taylor Swift among several other Taylor Swift songs, but there was legitimate worry that she might be too litigious for them to pull that off. Their section is clapping, dancing, and laughing along. They lucked out with more Centaur fans and general hockey fans than die-hard Metros-can-do no-wrong fans, but everyone's ears were ready for the warning whistle from Tootsie. Their next song wouldn’t be so friendly, it was for the Metro’s.
“You said your phone was broken, just forgot to charge it
Whole outfit you're wearing, God, I hope it's ironic
Did you just say you're finished? Didn't know we started
It's all just so familiar, baby, what do you call it?
Stupid
Or is it slow?
Maybe it's useless
But there's a cuter word for it, I know
Man-child
Why you always come a-running to me?
Fuck Montreaaaaaal!
Won't you let an innocent player be?
Never heard of self-care
Half your brain just ain't there
Man-child
Why you always come a-running, taking all my loving from me?”
Their growing audience laughed at their lyric changes and it seemed whoever was in charge of the jumbotron camera had caught on to the free choir performance. Just as they were rounding out the line dance portion of the Sabrina Carpenter number, a faint whistle sounded through the din. Over his shoulder, Stevie could see a large amount of stone-face security coming down the stairs. Holy shit, they had zip-ties in their hands. The audience started boo-ing. There were too many of them to make a quick and quiet exit, so it was time for plan B, dignified arrest.
Stevie was glad his parents were not hockey fans. They probably wouldn’t know about him being perp-walked with his hands zip-tied in front of him out of the stadium until Jack and the choir's respective lawyers bailed them out. Despite 20,000 fans being packed inside, there seemed to be just as many tailgating the game in the parking lot where they were being led. The jeering started as soon as they were in view in the Centaurs colors. Their t-shirts also gave them away as LGBTQ+, so slurs started being thrown their way as well. Stevie had lost sight of Jackson, but was pressed right up against Joel whose mouth was in a thin line of rage. The Bell Centre security and the Montreal police had a staging area for their arrests, so far filled with many drunk and angry men and a few drunk and angry women. One of their security personnel went to go talk to what appeared to be the head cop, he nodded his head at them smirking.
“Oh fuck, they’re going to seperate us” Joel mummered
“And put us with those assholes? What the fuck?” Stevie replied surprised.
“You really are too good for this world Stevie,” he sighs with enough affection to make Stevie’s heart flutter a little, “I need a distraction, I need to call Jack before this goes any further, we might be able to scare them into just giving us a fine”
Jacob C. pipes up from behind them, “Why don’t we sing again? We can do that really long Swiftie song Stevie showed us? Would that be enough time?”
“Joel said no Taylor Swi….”
“I think we’re past that Stevie, go for it. You sing it beautifully”
Well, now he had to sing it. Jacob C. hollered the new plan loud enough for everyone to hear and since they had barely rehearsed “But Daddy I Love Him”, Stevie Li the die-hard Swiftie would take the lead.
“I forget how the West was won
I forget if this was ever fun
I just learned these people only raise you to cage you
Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best
Clutching their pearls, sighing "What a mess"
I just learned these people try and save you
... cause they hate you”
Their security detail was suitably stunned and the drunk shouting surrounding them started to falter as the music overtook them. People really do love a show, but lots of the choir guys were just humming along. It was a wordy song. So Stevie decided to take it away. He stepped out of the loosened grip of his officer and scrambled up the front of a police car for a proper stage for the bridge.
“I'll tell you something right now
I'd rather burn my whole life down
Than listen to one more second of all this griping and moaning
I'll tell you something about my good name
It's mine alone to disgrace
I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing
God save the most judgmental creeps
Who say they want what's best for me
Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see
Thinking it can change the beat
Of my heart when he touches me
And counteract the chemistry
And undo the destiny
You ain't gotta pray for me
Me and my wild boy
And all this wild joy
If all you want is gray for me
Then it's just white noise
And it's just my choice”
“Okay Lady Gaga, get off the vehicle” the head cop shouted, “We need names and numbers for your stadium ban, then you’re free to go.”
Joel walked up to give him a hand down (his zip-ties had been cut) and Stevie was so high off his unexpectedly solo, that he took his choir director's hand, stepped down and immediately pulled him into a Hollywood style kiss. The joint Ottawa and Montreal Gay Men's Choirs cheered. Jackson found him later and shook his shoulders, “About time baby!”
________________________
They were all banned from attending any game or concert at the Bell Centre for the next 10 years. Tootsie had not originally been included on the ban, but was testy enough with Montreal PD over the phone they had no problem including him later on. Joel, Stevie’s lovely new boyfriend, wouldn’t tell them how big the fine was, just that they would figure it out. Their flashmob style performance had unsurprisingly gone viral online and both choirs were getting lots of donations and ticket sales, so maybe that would help. Stevie was a bit embarrassed that his car top performance was also captured on camera, but Jackson said it was more sweet than cringe. They were also getting more threats online and would have to up security at their next concert somewhat ironically. No copyright claims had come through, but the lawyers were still on tenterhooks.
Stevie felt their fortunes might be turning for the better though. Instead of the constant stressed brows Joel had had the last couple days, he now had a smile he couldn't repress and a secret he wouldn’t tell Stevie until their first real choir practice back in Ottawa. They entered the practice hall together holding hands, then found the usual spots. At the front, Joel quieted everyone’s chatter with a raised hand.
“First I want to once again thank everyone who sang at the Bell Centre” He was interrupted by raucous applause, but continued, “and also everyone supported us in the wings. We took a big risk, but it was the right thing to do for our community.” “CENTUARS FOREVER!” “Yes, thank you Jackson, on that note I have some good news. We have had 2 rather special gifts made to us. I’ll read the notes first, ahem: To the Ottawa Gay Men’s Choir, Thank you for musical talents and support at our season opener. We’d love to work with you all in an official capacity in the future! Harris Drover and the Centaurs Team XXX-XXX-XXXX”
“Holy cow!”
“Hot shit, do you think they’ll book us for their pride night?”
“And the Centaurs made an official gift of $24,000!” Joel continued. He was once again drowned out with applause.
“What about the other gift, Angelina Joel-Li?” said Tootsie with a gleam in his eye.
“Ah yes, the next gift is from Mr. & Mr. Hollander-Rozanov, but I’m fairly certain Ilya Rozanov wrote the note, it says: We caught your show in the tunnel. You made a hard game a lot more fun, but tell the pretty boy on the car that there was no convincing, I am David Hollander’s favorite son. They donated $500,000.”