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🎉🎂🎉
Troy has always been neutral on birthdays. As a kid his mother had made a cake and got him a few toys he’d been begging for, his father was an asshole. As a teen his mother took him out for lunch and got him some shiny new hockey gear, his father was an asshole. After he started playing professionally he was never home for his November birthday, his mother was always in a different timezone, his father was still an asshole. Kent would take him out to get plastered and spent the night yelling in his ear about all the women he wanted to fuck before abandoning Troy in whatever bar they were in to do…well, thinking about any of that now sends a wave of nausea crashing over Troy so hard that he needs to sit down. He never managed to celebrate a birthday with Adrian, the promise of ‘maybe next year’ murmured down the phone two years in a row. None of it fucking matters now.
His birthday in 2021 is bleak. He got kicked out of Toronto literally five days ago, he’s alone in a hotel room in fucking Ottawa, and he’s pretty sure his new captain (and probably the rest of the team) fucking hates him.
“What are you up to today?”
“Practice soon, game I’m not playing in later,” Troy mumbles. From his spot on the bed he can see a sliver of the dreary Ottawa skyline through a tiny crack in the curtains. The room is dark otherwise and Troy is having trouble mustering the motivation to function, his limbs heavy and fucking useless.
“You should go for a walk or something,” Mom suggests gently. She’s calling from somewhere in the world that isn’t anywhere near Troy. Japan, maybe? “See if there’s anywhere near where you’re staying you could get dinner later?”
“Maybe,” Troy sighs, knowing full well he will not be doing this. He’s trying to tell himself he doesn’t care (he does), that it might be nice to spend his birthday alone for once (it won’t be).
“Are you ok?” Mom asks. They both know he’s not and they both know he’s not going to admit it.
“I’m fine,” he lies. “I should shower and get a workout in down at the hotel gym.”
“Call me any time, ok? I love you,” Mom tells him and it takes everything in Troy not to spill everything sitting on chest. He won’t ruin her trip like that and he won’t make her realise just how fucking pathetic he is.
“I love you too,” he manages to choke out before ending the call and dropping his phone next to him on the bed. Maybe he’ll just nap until it’s time for practice. He’ll miss his mom less that way.
🎉🎂🎉
“Happy Birthday,” says Gen, almost loud enough for someone else to hear.
“I don’t really - I’m not a birthday guy,” Troy grunts, shifting his bag to this other shoulder just for something to do.
“Oh.” Gen seems surprised and Troy realises too late he’s being an asshole. Gen was being nice to him and he was a dick.
“Sorry,” Troy mutters. “I’m just -”
“Not really in a celebratory mood this year,” Gen finishes for him, more kindly than he deserves.
“Yeah,” Troy deflates. “Or any year.”
“Ok, well we usually do a post for each player's birthday but I can skip yours if you like? Though there are likely people out there who know your birthday and not posting after everything might look like we’re not doing it for that reason. Up to you,” Gen offers. Troy doesn’t have the bandwidth to give any more of a shit about what the general public thinks about him.
“Skip the post,” he tells her. “Please.”
“You got it,” Gen replies easily, smiling at him in a way that Troy is choosing to not interpret as pity. “I haven’t told anyone else it’s your birthday.”
“Thank you,” Troy replies stiffly. He’s ready for this conversation to be over so he can put his head down and get through practice, hopefully without Coach Wiebe completely regretting taking him on.
“Try to do one nice thing for yourself today,” Gen says, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. Troy doesn’t call after her that the nice thing he did for himself today was actually dragging himself out of bed and down to the arena so he doesn’t get ripped a new asshole by his coach. He’ll keep that one to himself. A little birthday gift that he doesn’t need a gift receipt for.
🎉🎂🎉
He tells Gen in advance the following year that he doesn’t want a birthday post again.
“Still not a birthday person?”
“Not really,” Troy shrugs.
“People want to celebrate with you,” Gen says, smiling. “You’ll be the only one on the team to not get a birthday post, fans might talk.”
“I don’t read comments on anything,” Troy tells her. “I did when I first made my official account but…”
“But the comments were awful and you’d rather pull off your toenails one at a time than read them again?” Gen offers. It’s a disgusting visual. Accurate, but disgusting. Troy nods wordlessly, shuffling his feet. “People suck.”
“Not everyone,” Troy murmurs, feeling a smile tug at his lips. He’s been doing that a lot more lately. Things are definitely better this year - he’s out, he’s got friends, Shane fucking Hollander is on their team so they might actually have a real shot at the cup, and his captain is kind of his best friend. And then there’s Luca. Kind, gentle Luca who had quietly welcomed Troy onto the team from day one. At the time Troy had put it down the fact that Luca hadn’t been in the league very long and had maybe not heard about how much of a fucking asshole Troy was, but now he knows that’s just Luca. Troy finds himself gravitating towards Luca in the locker room and in all social settings, drawn to him like a magnet or a moth to a flame or whatthefuckever.
“Does anyone here know it’s your birthday next week?”
“Probably? I don’t know,” Troy shrugs. It’s hard to imagine nobody would know, but none of them have asked him if he has any plans. He really hopes none of them are planning some kind of surprise. He really just wants a quiet night in - his birthday is falling on a practice-only day this year (not that Troy cares either way).
“Try to do one nice thing for yourself,” Gen tells him. Troy thinks that’ll be a bit easier this year.
🎉🎂🎉
Troy is lacing his shoes up when Luca sits down opposite him, bottom lip between his teeth and what looks suspiciously like a gift in his hands.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hi,” Troy replies slowly. They’d spoken literally fifteen minutes ago when Luca had accidentally dropped and kicked his helmet across the locker room, Troy picking it up and tossing it back to him and pretending not to notice the soft flush on Luca’s cheeks. He was probably still warm from the shower.
“So I know you’re not really a birthday person but, uh,” Luca starts, thrusting the large purple envelope at Troy. “I made something for you.”
“You made me something?” Troy breathes. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to?” Luca answers, face scrunched. He drops his voice for the next part, glancing around the locker room before speaking. “And it’s your birthday.”
“Yeah, but - sorry, I don’t mean to be ungrateful. Nobody has ever made me a gift before. I mean, maybe my mom did when I was a kid but I don’t remember,” Troy rambles, snapping his mouth shut. “Sorry. Fuck.”
“It’s ok,” Luca laughs softly. “You don’t have to open it now and it doesn’t have to be a big deal. I just wanted to give you something for your birthday.”
“Thank you,” Troy murmurs. He opens the envelope carefully, pulling out a thick piece of paper and - “is this me as Spider-Man?”
“Yeah!” Luca brightens, grinning as Troy stares at the drawing in his hands. It’s - it’s beautiful. Troy may not know much about drawing or art in general but he knows talent when he sees it. It’s obvious Luca has put a lot of time and effort into this - the lines are clean and confident, the details almost alarmingly accurate. How much time has Luca spent looking at Troy to get his eyes just right? “You’ve got the right vibe, you know?”
“I’ve got a Spider-Man vibe?” Troy’s not even sure what that means. He’s seen some of the Spider-Man movies, mostly while travelling and just wanting something to watch.
“I mean, yeah? You’re a private person who only lets a few people in, you’re really fucking good at your job, you’ve got a close group of friends who love you, and you care fiercely about those friends,” Luca says. The room is still empty around them which is good, because Troy’s heart feels like it might beat right out of his chest. Luca is just sitting there saying things, saying these kind things about Troy like he really believes them. He’s made Troy look beautiful and strong and happy.
“Is this really how you see me?” Troy whispers, afraid of the answer because he thinks that both a yes and a no could break him. He’s stopped trying to convince himself he’s not into Luca - the months of denial had been exhausting, so now he just lets his (maybe not so) dumb crush just exist in his peripherals (and on an endless loop when he’s alone). Ilya, of course, figured it out before Troy did and teases him about it relentlessly. He’s been trying to convince Troy to ‘grow the fuck up and ask him out already’ for months, but Troy had been able to wave him off with some totally legitimate and real excuse about not wanting to fuck up team dynamics. That had somewhat worked until Shane Hollander, absolute fucking hockey legend and Ilya’s husband, had joined the team and only made them stronger. Troy is running out of ways to get Ilya off his back.
“It is,” Luca answers quietly. Troy sucks in a sharp breath, running his fingers over where Luca has signed the bottom of the drawing in a loopy black scrawl.
“I can’t believe you made this for me,” Troy laughs.
“I just think that homemade gifts are more meaningful,” Luca shrugs. Troy can’t do anything but stare at him, overwhelmed by the feeling of being special enough to someone that they’re willing to give up what was likely hours of their limited free time to make something just for him. “I will, um. I will let you go, I just wanted -”
“Do you wanna go get a drink?” Troy’s mouth blurts out before his brain can catch up. That is not what he meant to say. ‘Thanks for the drawing, have a good night’ was right there.
“With you?”
“Uh, yeah? Do people often ask you out on behalf of someone else?” Troy’s mouth blurts again and it would be great if he could get himself to shut the fuck up already.
“Hasn’t happened before but there is a first time for everything, right?”
“Well…this isn’t that,” Troy finishes awkwardly. Might as well go all in, right? He can always ask to be traded again if this blows up in his face. Maybe he’ll end up somewhere warm this time.
“Good,” Luca breathes. “Not really interested in anyone else.”
“Yeah?” Can your heart actually beat out of your chest? Troy thinks his heart might actually beat right out of his chest.
“Yeah,” Luca echoes, lip between his bottom teeth again. Troy resists the urge to reach over and tug it out, but only just. It’s a close call, and maybe one he won’t have to worry about for much longer.
🎉🎂🎉
They very intentionally avoid Monks. Most of the town knows who both of them are anyway, but Monks is the team spot and going there expecting to be left alone for the night would be stupid. Troy has been working really hard on not doing anything stupid over the last year and it’s been working out pretty well for him so far.
He picks a small bar a few blocks back from the canal, hoping for at least a shred of privacy. People in Ottawa are generally pretty good at leaving him alone when he’s out and about - they’re more likely to get approached by fans when they’re out as a group. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be seen with Luca - people know the two of them are queer so they’ll draw whatever assumptions they’ll draw from seeing them enjoying an intimate drink together. Troy isn’t letting himself make any assumptions about tonight, but if the way Luca is inching closer to him is any indication he’s hoping the ones whispering in the back of his mind are right.
“So you hate your birthday,” Luca muses, smiling at Troy over the rim of his beer.
“I don’t hate it, I just don’t care about it,” Troy clarifies with a shrug. “I just really don’t like being the centre of attention, you know? It’s just easier to fade into the background and not stick out.”
“You don’t really do that,” Luca points out and he’s not wrong. In Toronto he’d stuck out by doing everything he could to fit in, even when it meant being a fucking piece of shit human being. Ottawa has been so distinctly different from any team Troy has ever played on and he’s never felt more like himself than he does here. He laughs with the team, actually enjoys going out with the team, and feels safe knowing that there are people who love him enough to call him on his bullshit without dragging him over the coals.
“I guess not,” Troy hums. “Still getting used to not being a complete piece of shit, honestly. Gotta filter the knee-jerk responses in my brain sometimes.”
“You’re not a piece of shit, Troy,” Luca murmurs. “I don’t draw pieces of shit.”
“Just former ones?”
“What can I say, I love a good redemption arc,” Luca shrugs with a grin. “The Loki series was my favourite Marvel project from the last few years for a reason.”
“Oh, I haven’t watched that one,” Troy admits a little sheepishly. He vaguely remembers Luca and Hazy gushing about the show in the locker room last year - it had aired over the summer in 2021 and by the time Troy got traded in November they were still talking about it. Troy had been a little too in his own head at the time, what with his life completely falling apart and all. He thinks he can probably be forgiven for not having the mental capacity to invest in a new show when he barely had the mental capacity to invest in getting out of bed in the morning.
“We could watch it together?” Luca’s voice is tentative but steady, his hand lightly brushing against Troy’s on the table.
“You already watched it, though,” Troy argues. He wants to give Luca an out, a last chance to back out before they tumble into something they can’t come back from (something that Troy won’t want to come back from).
“I can watch it again. There’s a second season coming out next year so I could use a refresher,” Luca murmurs. “Would you want to come over after we get home from the west coast next week to start watching?”
“I’d like that,” Troy smiles. Luca grins, bright and wide, his hand now resting half on-top of Troy’s. Troy’s blood is singing through his veins, head buzzing and nerves tingling. “You might have to help me out with the storyline, though. There’s a bit of background I’d need to understand, right?”
“Uh,” Luca laughs. “Yeah, it is more than a little bit. We might have to sit together on the plane so I have enough time to explain it all.”
“Might have to see if they can assign us to room together too,” Troy suggests, feeling only a little bit like he’s going to throw up all over the table in front of them. This is the point of no return - Troy has basically just told Luca he wants to sleep with him. He could try to walk it back by telling Luca he meant it in a ‘we’ll have more time to talk’ kind of way but that would be a lie and Troy has been trying really hard to stop lying (both to himself and the people around him).
“Ilya will give us so much shit,” Luca whispers, inching closer. “He already teases me about my giant crush on you.”
“Me too,” Troy breathes. “My crush on you, not my crush on myself. I don’t have a crush on myself.”
“Troy.”
“Yeah?”
“I would really like to kiss you now,” Luca hums, face now inches from Troy’s. His cheeks are a shade of pink Troy’s only ever seen in his fantasies, breath puffing hot and fast against Troy’s mouth.
“I think you’d better.” The first brush of Luca’s lips is tentative and so soft Troy can barely feel it. They are absurdly soft and warm despite the cold beer he’s been sipping all evening, grazing over Troy’s before he pulls back a little. Troy doesn’t let him go far, threading his hands through the hair on the back of Luca’s head to pull him in.
Kissing Adrian never felt like this. Whatever time they managed to steal together was rushed and frantic, hurrying through their time together before one or both of them needed to be somewhere else. Kissing Luca feels like wading through molasses - slow, sweet, and completely unhurried. There’s no urgency or desperation - it just feels right, feels like Troy has finally reached a destination he didn’t know he’d been sprinting towards for his whole life. Something settles deep inside him as Luca brings a hand up to cup Troy’s cheek and deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding along Troy’s lips. Troy makes a muffled sound of contentment into Luca’s mouth, tugging him impossibly closer until he has to pull away to catch his breath.
“Wow,” Luca exhales with a laugh. “This is not how I expected today to end when I woke up this morning.”
“Did you really think you could hand me a gift like that and I’d just walk away?”
“I did not want to assume anything,” Luca says. Troy kisses him again, close-mouthed and quick, dropping his hand from the back of Luca’s head to his hip. The noise of the room has faded to a dull murmur, nothing and nobody else existing in the moment but the two of them.
“It’s you,” Troy shrugs. “I just - fuck, I really like you, ok? This isn’t just a stupid crush, it’s…it’s you, Luca. You never judged me or made me feel unwelcome. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words how much that means to me.”
“Why would I ever have done that? What you did was so brave,” Luca says. “You did the right thing and then continued to do the right thing, even though it was hard and even though it hurt. I admire you so much for that. And I really like you too, Troy.”
“Didn’t feel brave at the time. Felt like it cost me everything,” Troy mumbles, dropping his forehead so it’s pressed against Luca’s. A year ago Troy had felt like his life was ending. Long term relationship over, discarded by his team, traded to the worst team in the league, and completely alone.
“And now?”
“If I had the opportunity for a do-over I wouldn’t change a thing,” Troy admits softly. “Except maybe kissing you a little sooner.”
“Yes, maybe just that.” Luca brushes his thumb over Troy’s cheek, kissing the same spot before he shifts a little further back. “So have I helped you hate your birthday less?”
“I think this might just be my best one yet.”
🎉🎂🎉