Chapter Text
There was a fatigue level that came post-season that Hayden was all too familiar with. It filled your joints with sand and made your bones heavier. It usually hit a day or two after the last game, the crash of the go-go-go. Mostly Hayden got through it and came out the other side within a few days, ready to take on his other life of being another regular guy at the lake with his kids.
This year it wasn't fading and it had started weeks before the end. Every game was a slog, every bruise seemed to linger tender to the touch for far too long, and his mouth tasted like blood no matter how much water he drank. Just a few more weeks. He could do that. One day at a time, he could do that.
"Honey," Jackie had murmured a few nights ago, a thousand layers of concern in her voice as she held him, "what's wrong? Please talk to me."
"I'm okay," he told her and kissed her, the lie digging in, unbelieved.
He had to be okay for her. Amber was still so small and Arthur had had a lingering cold for weeks. The twins were a lot even when they were perfect. Jackie was tired too. He couldn't bring her more of his shit and ask her to carry it. Soon it would be over and he could breathe and it would be fine.
July 1. He was free July 1 and before that the season would be done. There would be time to think.
Only JJ understood and whenever Hayden was really in his head, he'd turn to his last solid constant in the locker room.
"We got this," JJ said again and again, almost under his breath. "Heads down, get out."
"Heads down, get out," Hayden repeated.
At least JJ had already been traded. He couldn't do the playoffs even if they made them. He was apartment hunting and Scott Hunter had actually emailed him personally to welcome him. There was a light at the end of his tunnel, somewhere to go, even if it was far away.
Hayden only had uncertainty and a family he might have to relocate from the only home they'd ever known. Three times a week it seemed, Hayden said to Jackie:
"Forget it. I can stay. I'll make it work. We're going to see big turn over with the trades, some of them won't even know Shane anymore. It'll be fine."
And every time, his amazing wife had said, "No. We should go. Now is the best time, baby. On our own terms and before the kids are really entrenched in a school. Who knows? Maybe we'll end up closer to Melissa or George. That would be nice."
It would be nice for Jackie, who was close to her siblings. She was the youngest and the others had children already in their early teens. Potential babysitters, maybe. It would mean Toronto or Vancouver if he could get them. Toronto was a little better now with Kent firmly gone. Vancouver was fine. Probably. It was so fucking far away though.
At least Hayden had had a good season. Without Shane around to outshine the stars themselves, Hayden had gotten some attention at last. It wasn't worth the trade off, but it put him in good shape for finding someone to take him. He hoped desperately it would be enough to keep them in Canada, at least. Hayden had never lived anywhere else. He wanted to stay.
Maybe that was why he was so tired. Because under the fatigue, there was simmering anger. Hayden wasn't good at being angry. Sure, he was happy to punch someone on the ice if it came to that (it very rarely did for him) and he'd gotten in his fair share of off the ice scraps before he went pro, but Hayden had never sustained anger like this. He had never let it boil inside of him, reducing down and down until it was a hardened layer shellacked against his ribs, making it a little harder to breathe.
Fuck them for running off Shane, fuck them for treating JJ worse now than Hayden despite them doing the same exact shit (if anything Hayden was worse), fuck them for making Hayden come home to his children and not having the energy to give them as much of himself as they deserved. Fuck them for making him dread playing the game he loved.
Fuck them for making him lie to his wife and tell her he was fine because if he started talking, he might not stop and he might...
Hayden hadn't cried since his father died when he was sixteen. He wasn't eager to do it again. Fuck them for making his eyes burn and his throat hot. Fuck them for threatening the peace of his people for their own small minded bullshit.
"Why don't you skip practice tomorrow?" Jackie asked, gentle and soft last night. Like he was one of the kids himself. "It's optional."
They would take any excuse to pick at him these days. The coaches would give him less time, first line or not, they kept finding a way. He needed to be visible. He needed to get through this.
Head down. Get out.
"It's fine," he assured her. "Only two more games if we don't make playoffs."
At least it was late enough that he could drive the girls to school and get his peppy 'Bye, Daddy, have a good day at work!" from them both and hugs around his legs. Ruby left a smear of jam on his pants, but even that made him feel a little better. At least Ruby was a horrible menace to his sanity because she was four, not because she was a grown man with hate in his heart.
He watched them retreat with their respective frog and unicorn backpacks into the waiting bright classroom and their sweet-faced teacher. The drive home was a blur and then he was gathering his things. He went to the living room where Jackie was on the floor with Arthur, the monitor in her lap so she could watch over Amber's nap.
"Hey, bud," Hayden leaned down to kiss the top of Arthur's head. "You baking with Mommy?"
"Daddy, go high," Arthur reached for him and Hayden had to pluck him up and blow a raspberry on his tummy. That was just law. He set him back down, even as Arthur demanded. "Again!"
"Sorry, bud. After your afternoon nap, we will go high a hundred times, I promise."
"Go high now?" Arthur asked again, eyes wide with want.
"Later, sweet boy," Jackie assured him. "We're making cookies now, right? Stir the bowl!"
Arthur reluctantly picked up the empty plastic bowl and spoon to stir with grim determination as if Jackie was putting him to work in a commercial kitchen.
"Sorry," Hayden said, mostly to Arthur, but to Jackie too. Maybe a little to himself.
"It's all right, honey," Jackie caught his hand. He bent down and kissed her too. "I re-packed your bag. All clean."
"I could've done it," he protested, but the thought of her lovingly folding a change of clothes and his preferred snacks into his bag, eased a little of the burning in him.
He technically could leave everything in his stall, but lately, Hayden had wanted to be mobile. The only thing he left behind was his deodorant and equipment.
Her phone chirped and Jackie glanced at. Something in her face eased.
"Your ride is here," she told him.
"My ride? I'm driving in."
"We had a change of plans," she said vaguely. "Go on."
Not wanting to admit that he didn't remember anything about it, he headed for the door. Was he forgetting things now too? He hadn't been his best, details dropping from him and Jackie was good at holding that stuff in her head. Did she need his car for some reason? Had he forgotten some meeting he was meant to make with someone who would shell out of for that sort of thing?
Pulled up to the curb outside the house was a glossy black Mercedes SUV with tinted windows. Classy. Expensive, probably. As he approached the driver's side window rolled down.
"What the fuck?" Hayden asked the open air.
Ilya Rozanov slid his douchebag sunglasses down his nose and said with utter disdain,
"Get in loser, we're going shopping."
Someone else in the car laughed. It wasn't Shane. Hayden knew Shane's laugh.
"I have practice," Hayden said and as soon as it came out of his mouth, he clocked how lame he sounded. "But you know that, don't you? Jackie played me."
"You are not hard to play. Get in."
The back door popped open. Luca Haas smiled at him. "Hi, Pike! We're kidnapping you!"
"Why?" Hayden asked, clutching at his bag.
"For fun," Luca said brightly. "I'm-"
"Haas, I know. You gave Avery a black eye last week. It was pretty impressive."
The smile got even brighter. The kid had an accent too, something not quite like Rozanov's. German, maybe? No, Swiss. Shane had mentioned that. "It was a good punch, wasn't it? Come on, I promise we are taking you practice. Sort of!"
Reluctantly, Hayden got into the backseat. He was about to make a comment about why he'd been relegated there with the kid, before he spotted the massive body of Ryan Price in the front passenger seat.
"Where are we going?" Hayden asked, setting his bag down at his feet reluctantly. "Why are you all here?"
"There was a tech demo for cameras that are supposed to autofocus in better. GM sent us to see if it was worth the investment," Price rumbled. "Wiebe hates tech, so the two of us came up for it."
"And you needed Haas for that because..." Hayden trailed off. "No offense, kid."
"None taken," Haas said with every appearance that he meant that.
"I have pest problem," Rozanov said airily. "My car is infested by teenagers who like terrible music."
"I'm almost twenty-one, coach. Anyway, I was in the audiovisual club at school and I asked if I could come when I heard them talking about it," Haas said happily. "It was good I was there. Neither of them know shit about it."
"I know how to watch video," Price said. "Some of the points of how it gets to my eyeballs are a little over my head."
"I understand, I just do not care," Rozanov said. "So Haas cares enough for all three of us."
"And you had to include me in this," Hayden said.
"You were…" Rozanov snapped his fingers at Price. "Incident and accident."
"Incidental," Price provided.
"Yes, thank you. Incidental," Rozanov repeated. "A last minute thing. I was texting with Jackie and I thought-"
"You've been texting my wife?" Hayden asked. "Why?"
"She is lovely woman. I like her," Rozanov said simply. "Don't you like her?"
"Yes!" Hayden said defensively, aware that everyone in the car was apparently judging him instead of Rozanov. He was not in his own territory, even a little. "I liked her so much I married her. Obviously."
"So you know then," Rozanov said with triumph. God, his smugness was almost worse outside of the rink than on it. "Relax, Pike. Text your coach and tell them you are missing practice."
"Haas said you were taking me."
"Sort of, I said," Haas gave him an apologetic look. "I wasn't lying, promise."
"Take a few breaths," Price said. "You look like you're going to have a heart attack."
"I might!" Hayden said, but he did slow himself down. "Jackie really organized this?"
"We had an understanding," Rozanov said.
"Wow, I hate that," Hayden grumbled.
"Want some gummy bears?" Haas asked sympathetically and extended him an open package of gummy bears.
For a second, Hayden had the urge to slap the package out of Haas hand, sending a rainbow of tiny bullets in every direction. But Haas was giving him an open kind look and Hayden was tired. And goddamnit, he did want gummy bears, they looked good.
"Yeah, thanks," he said and took a few, biting off the heads one by one.
Rozanov was a competent driver, annoyingly. He had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his center console.
Hayden couldn't forget that night at Rozanov's house when he had watched him color with the girls, switching the crayon seamlessly to his left hand when his right started to shake and twitch. It had been so unsettling that Hayden had gone to the bathroom to take a second to himself.
The great Ilya Rozanov. Hayden's mortal enemy because he thought for years that he had been Shane's. Instead, he was Shane's man. Loved so very fiercely and for so long in silence. A man who couldn't reliably butter his own bread with his dominant hand, made kissy faces at his dog every fifteen minutes and hung off of Shane like a slutty, needy scarf constantly.
Not really much of a nemesis. Even if he was still a huge asshole.
While Hayden was decapitating gummy bears, the conversation had moved on without him. Price and Rozanov were debating the merits of an opening act for Price's boyfriend while Haas played snippets of songs off his phone like an argumentative DJ.
That segued into a discussion of locker room playlists of years gone by as Rozanov and Price regaled Haas with horrifying tales as if they had been retired forever instead of a handful of years.
"That's nothing," Hayden said as Price finished recounting a week of 'Oops, All Metallica'. "Last month when it was my turn and they were pissing me off so much that I put on my girls' favorites. You ever seen a bunch of guys try to pretend they don't know all the words to 'Let It Go'?"
To his surprise, Rozanov barked a laugh. "How many of them sang by the end?"
"At least three," Hayden said. "Mostly under their breath. I sang out loud."
"Do you have a good singing voice?" Haas asked.
"Fuck no," Hayden said.
Price and Haas laughed too. Haas shook his head, "If you did that with us, it would just become a bunch of howling cats. We do sing-alongs by accident all the time."
"It's true," Rozanov said with mock grimness. "I close my door and it doesn't help. Their noise gets in everywhere."
"I don't know," Price said thoughtfully, "I thought Bohemian Rhapsody was shockingly good. Hazy has a good Freddy impression."
It kept going like that. It was just..nice. They had long since passed any suggestion that they were staying in Montreal. By now, Hayden had figured they were going back to Ottawa and for some reason he was along for this ride. Jackie had blessed it, so he gave himself over to it and had the lightest conversation with a bunch of guys he'd had in well over a year.
Hayden felt his shoulders start relax. He hadn't even known they were that tense until his neck felt funny from them coming down an inch or so. The seat was comfortable and he dropped his head back as Price and Rozanov chirped at each other about potato chips or something stupid and Haas laughed.
Falling asleep in cars had always been a habit of Hayden's, but not usually around near strangers. He surprised himself, startling awake as the car slowed down, some unknown time later. He scrubbed at his face and reached for his water bottle.
"Good timing," Price said. "We're here. God, I need out of this car. My back is killing me."
"You need to go back to PT," Rozanov scolded like he was Price's mother.
"I know, I know. Fabian is on me too."
"I am not on you like that," Rozanov grinned.
"Shut the fuck up," Price laughed. "The kid is listening."
"The kid," Haas said with wrinkled up nose, "has had sex before."
"Luca! The scandal!" Rozanov cried. "How will we get you married in white if you go around telling people this?"
"Do you hear that?" Haas asked Hayden with a huff. "They think I'm a baby."
Hayden raised his eyebrows. There was something cherubic about Haas. The white-blond curls, the wide hazel eyes and perfect skin maybe.
"Sorry, kid," Hayden took a swig of water. "You look about twelve to me too."
"I'm twenty-one!" Luca whined.
"So old," Rozanov said dryly. "So much wisdom."
"Probably wiser than you were at twenty," Hayden said before he could stop himself. "Didn't you drink tequila shots off a wrestler's girlfriend in our rookie year and he threatened to literally rip you in half?"
"I have no memory of this," Rozanov said quickly.
"Yeah, I don't know how you could, considering I heard it was a whole bottle worth of shots."
"Is that true?" Luca asked, wide eyed.
"Get out of my car," Rozanov said, pulling into a spot. "Especially you, Pike."
"Delighted to."
They did all get out and Ryan stretched, every one of his limbs cracking. Hayden winced. His own joints had started to make interesting sounds, but nothing like that.
This was definitely the Centaur's practice rink. It was as unassuming as a building of that size could be, only a banner over one door announcing it's utility. Hayden grabbed his bag.
"So…what? You want me to practice with a rival team? I'll get roasted forever," Hayden said. "Is that even okay? There's no like…policy about that?"
"For fuck's sake," Rozanov sighed. "There are two of them."
"We don't have practice today," Haas said. "It's a recovery day. Game last night."
"Right. Which you won. Because that's what you do these days."
It was still bizarre to see. Ottawa had always been a bit of a joke though they hadn't completely sucked last year. Hayden had wanted to assume their improvement was all on Shane, but watching their games said something else, not to mention being creamed by them three times. The Centaurs were fucking great and only getting better. They were a shoe-in for the playoffs now, only their unsteady early season losses dinging their record.
"Yes," Haas said without any arrogance.
"He got two goals last night and a gorgeous assist," Price said, reaching over to mess with Luca's curls. Luca allowed it with a pleased smile.
Hayden couldn't remember the last time a coach had touched him affectionately. When he was a kid here and there, the 'attaboy' shoulder claps had rained down on him from time to time. Had they when he was a rookie? Maybe. The same kind of pat on the back. A smack on the helmet. He'd never been anyone's particular favorite and hadn't really wanted to be. It was kind of sweet though. Haas seemed like the type of guy who needed that.
Rozanov opened a door with a swipe of a keycard and they all filed in after him. He strode through the bland hallway like he owned the place, giving a wave to the custodian vacuuming.
"Get changed," Rozanov said to Hayden. "Luca, show him the locker room and kit out if you want to join."
"I can?" Haas asked.
"Who is going to stop you?" Rozanov rolled his eyes. "Rest means nothing at your age, I know this. Go."
"I'm going to hit the head, then go hole up in Hazy's guest room with some footage. It was good to see you Pike," Price said. "Keep an open mind, okay?"
"Uh, yeah, sure?" Hayden frowned. "I try to?"
"Good man," Price smiled at him. "Roz, I'll see you on Friday?"
"I have good tickets," Rozanov confirmed. "Tell him I want to hear the arrow one again."
"Lonely Hunter? He usually plays it anyway, but I'll pass on the request."
Both coaches walked off, in opposite directions.
"This way," Haas said and Hayden had no choice, but to follow him into the locker room.
It looked like any other locker room at a practice rink: stalls full of equipment and random shit with names and numbers picked out over them in bright stickers. Hayden would've been able to find Shane's without that. Perfectly tidy, the same Degree Intense Sport deodorant he'd used the entire time Hayden had known him which was lined up next to a dark blue shower caddy that Shane had had since he was a kid, complete with a fading Sharpie declaration of 'S.Hollander' on the side in Yuna's handwriting.
Haas darted to his own stall which was an explosive disaster.
"Wow, Hollander must hate that," Hayden said before he could help himself.
"He tells me all the time," Haas grinned. "I try, I promise, but it keeps happening when I'm not looking. You can use some of the spare things, if you are missing any equipment. They are in the closet by the bathroom."
When Hayden unzipped his bag, he found not only his usual things, but the travel bathroom bag he used on away trips. That was a sweet addition. He wouldn't have to borrow anyone's shampoo to get cleaned up afterwards. Jackie was the best. He texted her a series of heart emojis and asked no questions.
Getting changed was rote at least and Haas might have a mess of a setup, but he seemed to know where everything was. Together they were ready in handful of minutes, and Hayden followed Luca again, this time out to the rink. Hayden braced himself for whatever madness might meet him.
Instead, hefound Rozanov on the ice, a black fleece pulled on over the outfit he'd been wearing in the car. He was skating backwards at a leisurely pace and watching the only other person out there.
Standing in front of a dozen lined up pucks, a familiar helmeted body got into position and started shooting into the goal with the same insane precision that had gotten the cup into Hayden's hands twice.
Shane! Hayden was so delighted to see him that he was up and over the boards before he could consider if it as a good idea to interrupt him.
"Hollander!" He called. "Don't you know what a rest day is for?"
Shane turned, face slack with shock, a puck actually missing as he ignored it's trajectory. "Hayd?"
So Hayden was just as much a surprise for Shane as Shane was to him. Hayden glanced at Rozanov and found him not looking smug at all. Only a little relieved as Shane skated towards Hayden and they knocked helmets with matching grins.
"Hey, man, what are you doing here?" Shane asked.
"Your fucking villain boyfriend abducted me," Hayden said. "With his crew."
"Crew?"
"Hello, Hollander!" Luca chimed.
"Price was with them too."
"I know, they had a tech thing in Montreal…oh," Shane laughed quietly. "I see. You were the extra errand. Ilya said he had one and he'd be later than he thought. What he tell you?"
"He didn't. Haas just said I was still going to practice today. Do you want to? I mean with the three of us we could definitely drill, but I don't want to get in your way."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Shane had his eyes on Hayden's chin and Hayden had a brief painful desire to hug him and not let go. Plenty of people looked Hayden in the eye with way less meaning than Shane stared at his chin. "C'mon. Haas, you up for it?"
"Yes, please!"
"Is Rozanov coaching or just…" Hayden gestured at where Rozanov was picking up speed and coasting around the edges of the ice. "What's he doing?"
"Sometimes he gets in exercise while I'm drilling," Shane shrugged. "He can still coach while he does it, but he'll probably mostly leave us alone. It's his thinking time."
"Okay then."
With Rozanov circling like a shark, Hayden warmed up and then sank into the familiarity of Shane bossing him around through drills. This time though, the drills devolved into a messy three-man scrimmage with Haas acting more as a nuisance to them both than taking sides. When Hayden stopped a patented Hollander fake out, stealing it and sinking it into his goal, Haas demanded, "How did you do that?"
"Who do you think taught him that move?" Pike asked.
"You did not," Shane protested. "You taught me the fundamental and I improved it."
"I can't get partial credit?"
"Hollander doesn't give partial anything," Rozanov called out, blurring by. The Dopplering of his voice was disconcerting. "It's against his religion."
"Fuck off!" Shane shouted after him, grinning like that was a compliment. "Now are we playing or what?"
They played. They really played. Hayden's anger had overshadowed something else he tried not to think about: he missed Shane profoundly. Missing him on the ice made total sense. Hayden had relied on him, worked with him for his entire professional career. Off the ice, it wasn't that Shane had ever talked much in the locker room or been a huge personality in the room.
But Hayden missed him even more before and after games. The surety that no matter what else was going on, Shane would be there to carefully square away his things and frown over his phone for a second. He would change while Hayden rambled, seemingly not listening, only to bring up something he'd said months ago entirely at random.
Hayden missed Shane coming over for dinner after practice. Hanging out until it was too late to go home, then taking his place in the guest room and trying not to let Jackie make his terrible smoothie in the morning. Or worse (better), trying to get Hayden to drink one too.
Hayden missed Shane so much that being here was almost worse. A reminder of what he couldn't have anymore.
"Shoot out!" Luca challenged after Shane sank his twenty-seventh goal or something.
"Oh great, can't wait to lose this," Hayden laughed, but he lined up with them.
Luca went first and Hayden settled in for real humiliation as Luca easily made most of the shots that Shane did. Hayden was a good player. Great, even. He wasn't in the first line on one of the best pro teams for no goddamn reason. But he wasn't a generational talent. Maybe Haas would be and obviously Shane had already been called that by everyone that mattered.
At least Hayden was used to it. He took his turn and got a respectable few shots in before his vision was partially obscured with black.
"Why do you do this?" Rozanov demanded, pointing to Hayden's grip on his stick.
"I've broken my right thumb twice. It doesn't sit flat anymore. It's a compensation grip," he said irritably. "Been using it forever."
"And you have been mediocre for years," Rozanov scoffed.
Before Hayden could chirp back, Rozanov reached out and tapped on his thumb until Hayden moved it out of sheer irritation.
"Better," Rozanov said. "If you cannot use it, then get it out of the way."
"I'm not changing my fucking grip," Hayden gritted out.
"Not even for five minutes with three people here?" Rozanov asked, incredulously. "Try something. If it doesn't work, give it up. Who cares?"
Then he was gone again, whipping off with a speed Hayden remembered loathing once upon at time. Hayden glanced over to Shane and Haas, who seemed very comfortable with this intervention.
"Give it a shot, Hayd," Shane said.
"Fuck, fine."
It was better almost immediately. That was very fucking annoying. He still didn't beat Haas or Shane, but at least it wasn't completely embarrassing.
"Lunch!" Rozanov called out. "Before I start chewing on the walls!"
Hayden was starving now that he'd heard the word. They all trooped back in, hitting the showers. Shane had obeyed a strict 'no talking' shower policy, but Haas apparently did not share that philosophy. He chattered about the team as if Hayden needed to be read in to the latest news about Bood's newborn and Dillion's fickle girlfriend.
"Wait, he flirted with Rose Landry and still went back to her?"
"Is that not crazy?" Haas groaned. "Rose is so nice."
Was that the first thing Haas had noticed about Rose fucking Landry? Hayden had had to google pansexual after that coming out post, so he was fairly sure that Haas still liked women at least a little.
The water cut off and a towel came down in Hayden's peripheral. "Dillion doesn't want nice."
Technically the water was off, but they were still very much in the hot wet depths. And Shane Hollander had spoken. Haas seemed unsurprised by that. What had Hayden missed in less than a year?
"He should consider it," Haas said. "It would make him less annoying to listen to."
Shane made a neutral grunting noise and walked off. Hayden stared at the drain, water pounding against his back.
They all got back into Rozanov's car for lunch and Hayden gave up questioning it. He wasn't even surprised when their lunch spot was just Rozanov's house. There was a car in the driveway with a nightmare of a backseat, absolutely chockfull of clothes and shopping bags.
"That's yours, isn't it?" Hayden asked Haas, who only gave a bashful shrug.
Anya greeted them at the door, too excited by the abundance of people to decide who to greet first. Her entire body wagged as she jumped between the four of them, eventually scenting Hayden's proffered hand like he might be hiding treats up his sleeve.
"Hey, girl," he said quietly. "I know, sorry. Only met me once before, but I bet you forgot already, huh?"
She let him give her a few head-scratches before she darted off to try to trip up Haas.
It would be better if Hayden could hate Rozanov's house. Too bad it was gorgeous. Lots of big windows to draw in the sun, buttery wood flooring and the kind of white furniture that would die a terrible juice-stained death in Hayden's home. Last time Hayden had been here, it felt a little cavernous, the emptiness something he could seize onto to dislike, but even that had been banished.
Shane's leather armchair from his old apartment had been juxtaposed with the deep couch, a multicolor blanket thrown over it. His glasses' case was on the side table and a book beside it. The lonely photo on the credenza had been joined with a few others: a woman that Hayden didn't know posed with Rozanov in front of brick wall, both of them haloed in smoke; David and Yuna at a formal event, his arm around her shoulders; Shane and Rozanov in tuxedos, much younger and wearing stiff smiles; them again both in Centaurs t-shirts, standing shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed over their chests surveying something off camera; and then…then the Pike family Christmas card photo from this year.
Hayden had liked that one. It was a mess, naturally. He'd set his phone up on a tripod with a timer and then spent twenty minutes trying to wrangle his whole family into frame. It had ended with him gathering both the girls in his lap, Ruby standing on one of his knees, her dress half in his face while Jade tucked her head under his arm shyly. Arthur was holding his battered sheep plushie in front of the charming sweater Jackie had put him in. Amber, changed out of her original nice dress after a diaper blowout, into one of Arthur's old onsies with dinosaur feet was propped against Jackie's chest. They had all been smiling though, laughing at the chaos and he thought it did a better job of honest joy than any of the more posed photos he could've fought for.
And that chaos lived in a nice frame on the credenza in Ilya Rozanov's house.
What the fuck.
"Hollander," Hayden said turning to find his friend pulling things out of the fridge. Haas and Rozanov had disappeared outside with the dog. "Do you live here?"
Shane set down a container, and said, "Mostly."
"Oh. Since when?"
"January."
"But you only got back together-" Hayden cut himself off. "All or nothing."
"I don't know why people say that like it's a bad thing," Shane huffed. "What's wrong with being committed to something?"
"Nothing, man," Hayden said. "I know you're all in on him. I got the memo. Did he- like is this official? Changing addresses?"
"My lease is up in August. I have a few things there. Furniture mostly. Some of it can go in one of the bedrooms, but I'll probably put the rest in storage for now," Shane said. "Why? Did you want some of it?"
"No," Hayden said quickly. "Just curious where I should mail your birthday card."
"Here works," Shane said.
"Great," Hayden's stomach turned over, "you want some help?"
They were making salmon apparently, no huge shock there. Shane reluctantly putting cheese on broccoli which was a mild one. Hayden noticed there was a portion set aside untouched, so he didn't have to start checking Shane for signs of a concussion or something. There was brown rice too which was also new, garlic and ginger thrown in for flavor.
They talked about hockey, of course. Mostly playoff speculation, avoiding both of their teams to pour over the chances of New York and Pittsburgh.
"Fuck's sake!" Rozanov's voice broke through the front door as Anya whipped by, leash dragging and spots of mud trailing her. "Anya!"
"Sorry!" Haas was laughing, running after and finally snagging her leash. "That was my fault."
"Did she roll in the mud again?" Shane asked.
"Yes," Rozanov rounded the corner, kissed Shane's cheek absently and reached past him to pull a gold can of soda out of the fridge. "She tricked me."
"You've got to stop letting her outsmart you," Shane shook his head. "Her brain is the size of a walnut."
"She does this to you too," Rozanov grumbled. He reached for a butter knife left on the counter and pried up the pull tab on the soda with it. "She uses the whole walnut for scheming."
It was so normal. Hayden couldn't help, but watch like it was a movie. Shane and Rozanov moved around each other, orbiting as they went on their separate tasks. Occasionally, they brushed against each other and Hayden caught fingertips lingering over an elbow, the touch to the small of the back to get the other to move, and a teasing swat from Rozanov at Shane's ass that was avoided by a neat side step.
Just…normal. Coupley. They lived here together. Last time Hayden had been here, Rozanov had dedicated himself to winning over the kids and Jackie while Shane had buzzed nervously around Hayden, side eying him the whole time like he might blow everything up for fun.
This was more natural, relaxed. On the one hand, it was bizarre and uncomfortable to see Rozanov handling Shane with such familiar affection. On the other…
No one handled Shane usually. Hayden got to, now and then. The kids got special privileges. . But usually Shane was vaguely untouchable, except with special dispensation. Rozanov didn't have to wait for a specific moment, he was invited in all the time. Allowed to kiss and poke and prod. It was what Hayden had wanted for Shane, even if he'd been picturing 'Lily' in the role for years.
God, it would annoy the shit out of Rozanov if Hayden approved of them wouldn't it?
"You two are really fucking sweet," Hayden declared.
"What?" Shane asked flatly. Rozanov went very still, eyes narrowing at Hayden.
"You heard me," Hayden said, grinning at them both. He picked up the bowl of cheese-laden broccoli and brought it over to the table.
"Sweet," Rozanov repeated. "Does he know you are allergic to sugar?"
"I'm not allergic, I'm just careful," Shane retorted.
"He likes dark chocolate almonds," Hayden said, eyes on the steaming bowl as he set it down.
"They're fine," Shane said.
"If you put a bag next to him when he's distracted, he will eat the whole thing."
"Will he?" Rozanov asked with interest.
"Ilyusha, no. Don't do it."
"Of course not," Rozanov said very reasonably. "It would be very rude to trick you. Would I ever do this?"
"Every day and twice on Thursday," Shane sighed.
Haas returned with a much cleaner dog and they sat down to demolish the meal. It never got awkward despite the assortment of personalities. Occasionally Hayden and Rozanov chirped at each other's eating habits, ('I guess all children will eat their veggies if you put cheese on it.' / 'No one taught you to chew with your mouth closed? You are part-cow, maybe?') and general personage ('Fantastic observation, have you also noticed sky is blue and grass is green?'/ 'Look, grim reaper, not all of us came up with dressing in solid black to hide food stains'), but with Haas laughing about it and egging them on, Shane interceded. It became less mean as the meal wore on and more a competition that Hayden was fairly sure he was losing. Rozanov was faster like this too, which was deeply unfair.
No one mentioned getting Hayden home even after the plates were cleared. Haas left not long after the plates had cleared. Shane was perched on his armchair and Rozanov was in the kitchen, standing at the island with his laptop, apparently answering emails.
"Not that this isn't great, but how long is this abduction scheduled for?" Hayden asked.
"Tomorrow morning, Shane will drive you home."
"Shane will?" Shane asked. "We've got tape review in the afternoon."
"You leave early, say hello to his litter, give Jackie a hug and eat a second breakfast," Rozanov said. "Even if you stay two or three hours, you'll still make it back in time."
"Jackie would love to see you," Hayden said. "But that's a hell of a turn around."
"That's okay," Shane decided. "Worth it."
Hayden waited for it to get weird. It was a lot hours to hang out with Rozanov around. But Shane was still Shane, barreling ahead with a plan once it was set. They watched a movie, talking over it for the most part. Dinner was less put together, reheated leftovers of some thick stew that Rozanov had made that met Shane's stringent approval.
Instead of disrupting things, Rozanov somehow made it all smoother. When Shane went quiet, he picked up the conversation, even if it was a little more sharp-edged. When Shane remembered something he abosutly had to do right then and abruptly left the room, Rozanov let him go, instead of chasing after him like Hayden might've before he knew him better.
"To do list," Hayden guessed.
"Mhm," Rozanov was smiling fondly. "This threw him off some things today. I think he won't mind, but somethings must be done."
"I-"Hayden started then stopped. All at once he could hear Jackie's voice in his ear. Be Hayden for him. And maybe that meant Rozanov too as horrible as the thought was. "Thank you. I really needed this."
"I did not do it for you," Rozanov said simply. "He needed a friend."
"So you…got me?" Hayden asked, trying to piece that together.
"Yes," Rozanov shrugged.
"Oh, but…he's got like a whole team here. Decent guys. Haas is crazy about him," Hayden said.
Until that moment, Hayden hadn't even realized he was jealous, but he kind of was. Shane seemed to so easily replace him, always telling Hayden about something Bood had said or Wyatt's game night or worst of all what that former fuckhead Troy Barrett was up to. A guy they'd both always hated more than Rozanov (although not as much as Dallas Kent and fuck that guy all the way to hell still).
Well. As much more than Hayden had hated Rozanov anyway. Shane had apparently been forming some weird psychic-soulmate bond with him that started with their dicks and radiated outward, but whatever. Details.
Rozanov rolled his eyes up to the heavens like there were answers up there. "I know you need these things spelled out, but I am not nursery school book. He missed you. I delivered you. Do the rest on your own, Pike."
"Holy shit."
Hayden sat back, taking in the Rozanov all over again. Still the same imposing figure, the same laser beam eyes that could cut you in half. It did seem slightly less threatening when he was sprawled on a couch, confessing to playing a very long game of fetch. "You are totally gone for him, aren't you?"
"What gave it away?" Rozanov asked dryly.
"Good," Hayden said and took a deeper breath than he'd managed since he'd walked in the door. This was Shane's space. Shane's man. Hayden knew how to exist in Shane's spaces. "He should have that. I thought maybe…I don't know."
"I know you don't think," Rozanov scoffed, but he was watching Hayden intently. "You think what? That I'm faking all of this?"
"I think," Hayden said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Shane wasn't going to come wandering back in, "that I worried about him a lot. Trying to get you back. Because who in their right mind would take someone back after two and half years of nothing? After everything. Seemed like a pretty big ask."
"Ah," Rozanov nodded, "well, I am not in my right mind ever."
"I want to be so clear that you said that and not me."
"It's true. Shane makes me total lunatic," Rozanov said, entirely untroubled. "But it was worse without him."
"Yeah, it really fucking is," Hayden said before he could stop himself.
They both went quiet over that and Hayden scrubbed at his face with his hand, hiding a little from that confession. A foot lashed out catching Hayden's knee in a kick.
"What the fuck, man?" Hayden demanded, lifting his face to glare at Rozanov.
"You think I would make fun of you for giving a shit about him? It is your only redeeming quality."
So that was awful. Shane came in before Hayden could retaliate which was probably for the best.
"Game is on," Shane said, sitting down practically in Rozanov's lap. An arm went around Shane's shoulders and Hayden watched Shane slot in against Rozanov.
"Always a game," Rozanov teased him gently, dropping a kiss in Shane's hair. "We can watch highlights later."
"It's Boston though," Shane said. "Hayden is playing them in like four days."
"Don't remind me," Hayden groaned.
"They are not so good this year," Rozanov waved that off and reached for the remote.
Boston hadn't been very good in three years, but Hayden knew enough not to say that. It wouldn't be taken as a compliment.
It was a boring game, yet between Shane and Rozanov, they dissected it so thoroughly that Hayden got interested again. Shane's analytics and near psychic ability to predict plays meshed into Rozanov's understanding of the team dynamics. Hayden threw in comments here or there and to his surprise, Rozanov nodded along with most of them, only correcting him with knowledge Hayden couldn't have had.
"You're better at knowing about hockey than playing," Rozanov concluded.
"Fuck you," Hayden said. "What do you mean about the first line though?"
Eventually though, the game ended and Shane got up to herd Hayden down the hall. They passed what Hayden had thought was a guest room, but now boasted a sign on the door written on a torn piece of printer paper written in Shane's handwriting: Room Reserved for The Terrible Scary Woman that Bites.
"What's that about?"
"Svetlana," Shane said.
"She has her own room? Does she actually bite?"
"Ilya and her have the same sense of humor. It's awful."
The second guest room had been unfurnished last time Hayden was here. A few of the rooms in Rozanov's house had been like that. Closed off and empty upon snooping inspection. Like he'd never fully moved in. This one had a bed now, along with bedside tables and lamps.
"Thanks," Hayden said and set down the bag that had apparently actually been packed for an overnight. His wife was awesome.
"Yeah, no problem," Shane lingered in the door. "We get up pretty early to run if you want to come with."
"Sure. I'm up before the sun these days anyway. Amber sleeps through most of the night, but she draws the line at dawn."
They let the silence fall between them and Hayden was sure Shane was going to turn heel and say goodnight, but he didn't.
"Are you okay?" Shane asked. "Like…really. Are you good?"
Hayden sat down on the end of the bed. It was soft. Comfortable. He should say he was fine. Shane didn't need his shit anymore than Jackie did. Hayden was going to be fine. He just needed time.
Just a few more weeks.
Then there was an arm around his shoulders. He shook his head in denial of the small comfort. He was fine. He was totally fine.
"It's a little fucked on the team," he said.
"I know," Shane said quietly. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Hayden demanded and his voice was thick with all of that concentrated rage. "You were the only person who didn't fuck up."
"Because if I hadn't-"
"Don't even start with me," Hayden snapped. "Are you fucking kidding? It's my fault for not paying attention. But now I am and I can't stop and it's like getting a thousand fucking paper cuts a day. I want to punch everyone in the room and not stop."
"Hayden," Shane said, his voice tight. "That's not you."
"I know. I know! And I'm not going to do it. JJ is almost out and I'll be next. It's fine. I'm fine."
"Wow. Convincing," Shane said.
"See how it feels?" Hayden asked bitterly. "Repeat that for six years."
"Yeah, okay," Shane sighed. "What can I do?"
"Nothing. It's just time. We run out the clock. We move. Get the kids into a decent school, find the grocery store. Guys move around all the time and no one complains. Hell, you moved teams and it was great."
"I moved teams for Ilya," Shane said like maybe Hayden had forgotten that whole batshit thing that had actually worked because Shane fucking Hollander stayed winning always. "Little different."
"I'm happy for you, man. Really. I can see that your solid here. Happy."
"I am," Shane said. "But we're talking about you."
"Why?" Hayden grumbled. "I don't want to."
"What's the worst thing that happens if you do?"
Hayden started twisting his wedding ring around his finger. The gold was too soft for how he lived his life. It had a dozen tiny scrapes and dents. Jackie cleaned it for him sometimes when she did her own so it was never grimy at least.
"I don't know," Hayden said. "Maybe nothing."
Shane pulled him in a little closer and Hayden didn't mean to let him, but Shane was strong and it was easier to give in than fight.
"What's the worst thing?" Shane asked again, patient and calm.
When the kids got upset, Shane always got flustered. He did his best, but if anyone cried for longer than a minute, Shane picked them up, carried them to Jackie or Hayden and declared 'We have a situation' like a bomb needed to be defused.
Jackie found it adorable and both of them would use their Shane impression when things went south in a ridiculous way. 'We have a situation' was their household code for 'can you fucking believe this shit?'
Shane wasn't good at comforting people. He wasn't supposed to be good at it. Hayden needed him not to be good at this right now.
He couldn't move though. Shane was solid and present and listening and….
"I might crack like a fucking egg," Hayden whispered. "I can't. I can't do that."
"Why not?" Shane asked, purely practical. Sensible. "Everyone breaks down sometimes. And you've seen me worse than this."
"I don't-" Hayden stopped. "I'm so angry. I'm so fucking angry and I'm so fucking tired."
Shane nodded, "Yeah. I get that. I was pissed off for a long time. And I was also like…really fucking sad."
"Yeah," Hayden said and his voice cracked like he'd just started puberty.
"Because they took what made it good from us."
The dam broke. Hayden made a hideous noise and slapped both hands over his face. His eyes prickled and just like that he started crying. It was just as awful as he remembered.
And Shane 'We have a situation' Hollander held him. His other arm came up and he embraced Hayden from the side, chin in his hair. He was warm and familiar. There was shame here, buried under the horror and release of it all. Hayden could feel the slime of it. To be seen this upset, to be known this way by another man. But it was fucking Shane and Hayden was so fucking tired. It was only a few tears, he thought. Just a few.
God, maybe he bawled like a baby, Hayden wasn't even sure. All he knew as a few minutes later, he had to sit up and he had a headache and everything was overheated and damp.
"That sucked," he told Shane without risking looking up at him.
"Yeah, I know," Shane shoved a wad of tissues at him. "Better now though, right?"
It was emptier, certainly. Hayden didn't feel much at all anymore except tired. "Yeah. It is. Shit. I'm such a fucking shit friend."
"What?" Shane asked incredulously.
"Rozanov said you weren't like fully okay and I didn't even-"
"Shut the fuck up, Hayd, Jesus fucking Christ," Shane shoved his shoulder. "It's just knowing playoffs are coming. You know how I get. He's an overprotective asshole."
"Good," Hayden blew his nose. "I like that about him. Don't tell him I said that."
"Trust me, not even in the top ten things I'll say to him before bed tonight."
Hayden pulled a face, "Should I put on headphones?"
"You're on the other side of the house. How loud do you think we get?" Shane asked and then seemed to hear himself and wince. "I mean-"
"Uh huh,'" Hayden found a smile somewhere after all. "You're definitely just going to go straight to bed with your chastity belt on, right? No sex before marriage, Hollander."
"Oh, so the twins were immaculate conception?"
"No," Hayden shouldn't feel this good, all things considered. Maybe crying was like drugs. He did feel very loopy now. "God spoke to Jackie and was like 'damn this man is too fine for you to wait', so we got special permission."
"You're an idiot," Shane declared, but he was smiling too. "I think Jackie just winked at you and your pants fell off."
"Yeah, that's pretty much how it went. Doesn't seem like you two are much better. Rozanov is whipped, huh? Wrapped around your little finger."
Shane shrugged, "Sure. And I'm wrapped around his. So what?"
So what. Yeah. So fucking what.
"I love being whipped," Hayden confessed.
"Yeah, Hayd, anyone with two eyes and half a brain knows that."
"Oh fuck, really?" Hayden winced.
"Yeah, too bad most of the people we know only have a quarter."
They laughed like hyenas over that. Loud enough to summon Rozanov to darken the still open door. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What is funny enough that I hear you across the house?"
"Ha!" Hayden grinned at him. "I make Shane louder than you. OW! Motherfucker!"
"Sorry," Shane said, sounding not at all sorry for socking Hayden in the arm hard enough to bruise.
"Loud is not the goal," Rozanov said, apparently amused by them, judging by his shit eating grin. "Are you coming to bed, Hollander or should I let Anya sleep on your pillow?"
"Don't you fucking dare," Shane said, pushing off the mattress. He did pause though and ruffle a hand over Hayden's hair like he was Haas or something. "Good night."
"Good night," Hayden said.
As he watched them walk out, Rozanov slid a hand under the back of Shane's sweatshirt, a small intimacy that Shane leaned into.
The bathroom was across the hall. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, getting the sticky terrible feeling off his skin. The bed was comfortable and he curled up on his side (always his side even when Jackie wasn't there, it helped to pretend that she was just still up and would be there any minute).
Phone in hand, he hit his number one contact and closed his eyes.
"Hey, baby," she said.
"Jacks," he said. "I love you."
"Love you too," she said. "This was okay? I was worried you'd be mad."
"Not mad," he breathed out. "It's been great. Thank you. I'll tell you about it tomorrow after Shane leaves. He's going to come by, help with the school run."
"That's so sweet," she said, no surprise. She'd already known the plan.
"When he leaves, you and me are going to have a talk about how much you've been texting Rozanov."
"I like him," she said. "Don't you?"
"No," Hayden denied probably too quickly. Very faintly, over the sound of Jackie's laughter, Hayden could've sworn he heard someone moan. "Actually, I hate him."
"What's that?"
"Nothing," Hayden sighed. "I'll tell you you tomorrow. How's Arthur's nose?"
"Not any better than it was this morning."
They talked a little idly, said good night. Hayden slept like a rock and woke to the sun. He stayed there, prodding at his mental bruising a little and found it way less painful. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a shirt and his running shorts and tentatively made his way out into the house.
Rozanov was in the kitchen, chopping up familiar looking ingredients.
"No," Hayden sighed. "Please no."
"He loves them," Rozanov said grimly, whacking his way through spinach.
"Fuck," Hayden hung his head. "I would literally murder you for a breakfast sandwich."
"I don't think that's how that goes," Rozanov grumbled. "You eat before you run?"
"No, but just thinking that that's what I'm coming back to will make me slower."
"I have bagels," Rozanov confided. "Cream cheese."
"Okay, never mind, you can live."
"Joy."
Shane emerged, Anya at his heels. "Are we taking her out this morning? Hi, Hayd."
"Hi. She can keep up with you guys?"
"For some of it," Rozanov said. "We do loops. Drop her home when she gets tired. Not this morning, I already walked her."
It should be weird having Rozanov along with them for a run. Shane and Hayden had spent countless hours like this. Cardio wasn't really supposed to be their focus, even in the off season, but Hayden had always loved a run and coaxing Shane along with him hadn't been hard. So they had a pace and a way of doing things.
Rozanov fell in with them. He had good form, because of course he did, and he seemed to enjoy it too, turning his face up to the sun when it came out from behind thick cloud cover. Occasionally, they talked about something on the road or in a window, but mostly it was the silent companionship of pounding over pavement.
Shane didn't pull out his phone once. A habit he'd had for years, then stopped. Because.. because..well shit.
Hayden laughed, with maybe a slight edge of hysteria, as they cleared the 5k mark and started to slow a little. "You've always fucking been here."
"What?" Shane frowned. "Are you good?"
"Yeah, not you," Hayden waved at Rozanov who was also eyeing him with a little concern. "I was thinking this felt kind of normal. Because it is. That's who Shane was texting and thinking about and all that shit. So you were here. On fucking runs and in hotels and the goddamn lockeroom. The whole time."
"I was?" Rozanov asked, beaming like this was the best news he'd ever heard.
"That's bullshit," Shane said, but he was staring off into the distance like maybe it made a little more sense than he'd like.
"Face it, Hollander," Rozanov gloated. "I haunt all your buddy-buddy workouts."
"You're a fucking terrible ghost. All you did is make him blush and stop looking where he was going," Hayden said. Rozanov only laughed harder while Shane scowled at both of them.
It was easy to roll into the house, sweating and jocular. They both pulled faces at Shane's smoothie and yet somehow both wound up drinking some while pointedly also eating their bagels.
The drive back was good too. Hayden and Shane didn't talk about the night before. They were quiet together a lot. Hayden forgot how much he liked that. Shane was never upset about being quiet in a room with him. They did their own thinking or lack thereof and still enjoyed each other's company.
Jackie greeted them both with equal enthusiasm and the girls swarmed Shane immediately full of questions and hugs. But bless him, Shane went right for Arthur, who was waiting more quietly with big eyes and scooped him up as soon as he was reached for.
"Uncle Shane!' Ruby protested. "Pick me up too!"
"Me too!"
Hayden got a picture of Shane being swarmed by all three kids and somehow managing to keep them all in the air with no sign of exertion on his face. Hayden snapped a photo and sent it to a new contact in his phone.
Rozanov: Stop. I am trying to be important boss, I cannot see such cute things and concentrate. Are you sure you are the father? Seems unlikely with such beautiful children.
Hayden: Fuck off. I don't have to send you anything, you know.
Rozanov: Oh no, you are a dealer now. Don't cut me off!
Hayden shoved his phone in his pocket. For a few minutes. Then maybe sent him another picture of Arthur in Shane's lap while Shane read to him and Ruby attempted to braid his hair. That seemed fair, all things considered.
Thus fortified, Hayden made it through the end of the season. He drove JJ to the airport because he could and made him swear five or six times that he'd call once he was settled in and show him the apartment he'd gotten. He got through the playoffs until they crashed out hard. Hayden had finally landed on the other side.
Now there was only the uncertainty. His agent assured him once a day that there were serious offers coming. That it was just a matter of time. Time that ticked on. Day after relentless day. The Centaurs went to the end. Hayden watched every game and sent Shane a very long supportive, slightly drunk. text when they went down right before the finish line.
Then Hayden drove the girls to school, took Arthur and Amber to Mommy and Me, did a thousand loads of laundry and nearly lost his mind while Jackie took a much deserved week away with her sister.
On the last full day of her absence, when he was holding it together by a thread, there was a knock on the door. Who the fuck knocked on doors in this day and age?
"I'll get it!" Ruby shouted, charing out of the living room.
"No!" Hayden shouted back from the kitchen. "We don't open the door to strangers! Did you finish cleaning up your dolls?"
"Yes!" She lied.
"Go clean up, please," he groaned, then trudged to the front door to look through the side window.
On his stoop was a confounding vision of a human being in a hell of an outfit. Black denim cut off shorts showed off thick muscular thighs and the kind of trim waist Hayden had been chirped at for having when he'd been a rookie. A broad chest was barely covered by a purple crop top that ended an inch below the ribs showing off a toned tanned stomach and a the hint of curvy black tattoo that must've gone from clavicle to chest because there was a peek of it at the neckline too. Lips that were far too plush for a hockey player, but a nose that was exactly right for one. Licks of dark black hair fell into into hazel eyes.
The Centaurs' rookie. Joe Yolen. What. The. Fuck.
Hayden opened the door, wishing he wasn't still wearing his pajamas. With a juice stain down the front of this shirt.
"Can I help you?" He asked.
"Hi, Mr. Pike," the rookie stuck out their hand. There was a big flat rectangular box stuck under their other arm.
"Hi. Yolen, right?"
"Yes!" Yolen smiled at him, showing off a smile that had to have fake teeth in it, they were so white. "I'm sorry to bother you, I know you don't know me very well, but I was the only who was going to be in the area. Coach Wiebe is at the beach, Hollander and Coach Rozanov are already at the cottage. Coach Price said no one was allowed to talk to him for three weeks. "
"What-" Hayden started and then a wail rose up from inside the house. "Shit. I have to get that. Just- come in or whatever."
Sprinting off, Hayden rescued Amber from the high chair, bobbing her up and down in apology. That was when Arthur woke up from his nap with a, "Daddy! Wet!"
And then deeper in the house came a very ominous, "Oopsie!"
"I'm in hell," Hayden muttered.
"I have like five niblings," Yolen said, standing in Hayden's kitchen like they'd been there a dozen times. "Do you want me to hold her?"
"Daddy!" Arthur called again.
"Yes, fine, whatever, don't drop my baby or I'll fucking kill you," Hayden said and set Amber into Yolen's arms. "Watch your fingers, she's a biter."
And then he was racing off to change a diaper and clean up a 'potion' spill in the girls' room and and and and…
By the time he got back to the kitchen, half out of his mind about leaving Amber with a stranger, it was to find Yolen with Amber on their hip, gnawing on one of the cold teething rings they kept in the freezer and talking seriously to Arthur about his toy trains.
"Do they take turns?" Yolen asked as Arthur smashed Percy and Thomas together.
"No!" Arthur laughed.
"That's too bad. Taking turns can be fun."
"Daddy," Jade asked, eyes wide from where she hung off Hayden's back. "Who is that?"
"Uh, good fucking question."
"Swear jar!" Ruby shrieked.
"Yes, you're right, sorry," he sighed heavily, "Yolen these are the twins. The one on my back is Jade and the one on my leg is Ruby. He's Arthur, the baby is Amber. Girls, this is Joe Yolen. Uncle Shane's rookie."
"You guys can call me Joey," Yolen, who was apparently a 'Joey' grinned at the girls.
("The pronouns thing doesn't confuse you?" Hayden has asked Shane after the whole big coming out post. "No?" Shane frowned at him. "People say to call them what they want to be called. Why is that confusing?" "Right. Got it." Hayden said. He did not have it, but he did some googling and maybe got closer.)
"You know Uncle Shane?" Ruby demanded.
"I do. He's pretty great," Joey said. "I'm sorry to interrupt your plans for the morning. I was really just-"
"Daddy!" Jade gasped. "We're going to be late for school."
"No, you're not," Hayden sighed. "It's only-" He glanced at the clock. "Oh god. Okay. All hands on deck. Girls! Shoes and backpacks. I've got your lunches ready. I'll- goddammit."
"Swear jar!" The girls chorused.
"How can I help?" Joey asked.
Which was how Hayden wound up with all four kids somehow in the car all strapped into booster and car seats, ready despite the time crunch and Joey in the passenger seat because there was no way Hayden was leaving the rookie alone in his house.
With the girls dropped off, the chaos dropping to half, Hayden got behind the wheel and glanced at his unexpected passenger.
"Listen, I've got errands to run. Sorry to like…"
"No, I'm sorry," Joey said sincerely with their big doe eyes. "I dropped in on you without notice. Wherever you need to go is fine. I was only killing time today if it wasn't for this. It's cool."
Having a second pair of hands did make Hayden's stops a lot easier. The grocery store was practically on easy mode with someone else to entertain Arthur. Amber slept through most of it and Hayden ticked off the list that he and Jackie kept with long familiarity. When they got back to the house, Joey even got Amber back into her crib somehow while Hayden put away groceries and Arthur ate a late morning snack.
"Do you want to take a shower or something?" Joey offered, reappearing in the kitchen. They were somehow entirely untouched from the chaos of the morning, still clean and giving off a boundless energy.
Hayden felt like pale french fried shit. Nothing was fair. "You telling me I stink, rook?"
"Little bit, Mr. Pike."
"Hayden," he said before he could catch himself. Fuck it. It was fine. What did he care if some random rookie called him by his first name. "You hold my baby, you get first name privileges. I would love a shower. Once he's done eating, he can play in the living room. It's baby-proof, but he needs eyes on him anyway."
"No problem."
Hayden was not going to look a gift shower in the mouth. He ran for it. The hot water was bliss, but he didn't linger, scrubbing himself down and keeping an ear out on the baby monitor in case Amber decided to wake up early. Somewhat rehabilitated into a human, Hayden put on fresh clothes and emerged back into the world.
Joey was sitting on the floor, their crop top riding up even more over impressive abs. They were short for a hockey player, but built like they played defense. From what Hayden could remember, their aim was impressive and they were fast. A small nuke. The hit they'd taken in the last game they'd played together must've done some damage, but they'd skated away grinning like it was a love tap.
"Okay," Hayden said. "I'm mostly a person again if you wanted to tell me why you're actually here."
"Oh, I only came to drop off a package, but I have to stay to watch you open it. That's what I was told, anyway. Is that okay? I feel like I sort of hijacked your day."
"Rook, you probably saved me from laying down on the floor and letting the kids explore anarchy. You can do whatever you want short of burning the house down," Hayden said. "What kind of package?"
"I'll go grab it," Joey said, heading back to the front door and coming back with the box they'd had when they showed up.
Hayden sat down on the couch, ear on the monitor and eyes mostly on Arthur as he accepted it. "This is from who?"
"I'm not supposed to say," Joey said, a sparkle of amusement in their eyes as they sat back down on the floor by Arthur.
"Okay. Great," Hayden sighed. "Rozanov better not have packed this with dead mice or something."
"Why would he do that?" Joey asked, bemused.
"Why does he do anything?"
"Usually either because it's funny or it'll make the team better or it'll get Hollander to pay attention to him. Ideally, all three," Joey said immediately. "We broke it down on a flight two weeks ago. It's pretty simple."
"That sounds right," Hayden conceded.
The box wasn't taped shut which was a mercy. Inside the plain cardboard was a much fancier, glossier black box with an envelope on top. Pike was written on it in blocky lettering. Inside was a typed note.
Pike,
I was very rude. I offered to take you shopping and then didn't get you anything. Please consider this the apology.
I will tell you now there are pros and cons to this. I will be clear about them so you don't whine later.
Cons:
-You will play second line. We're not breaking up a winning formula to make room for you. Suck it up.
-We can't afford to give you the same high salary offers you might get from lesser teams. Blame your bestie for that.
-I will never ever let you get away with being mediocre for one minute of a single game. There's probably a great player in you somewhere and I will draw him out of you whatever it takes.
Pros:
-Shane Hollander
-A locker room that won't drive you to the brink of murder
-WAGs are invited to most team events and they are an amazing group. They have stormed one of the local preschools and the kids would all have placements quickly.
-I won't be forced to come to you personally and spell out why going anywhere else is the dumbest thing I can imagine for you. There will be slides.
-Yolen will be on the line with you. They are also a pain in my ass. You two will get along beautifully.
-Open the box, Pike. You'll like it.
The note was unsigned, but it hardly needed to be. Hayden set it aside and with his heart in his throat, he opened the box. Instead of the stack of paperwork he'd half-expected, he found a black and red Centaurs jersey. His name was already stitched on the back. When he pulled it out, his number was there too. 35. He'd get to keep his number.
Ottawa. He hadn't even let himself think about it, let alone feel even a bit of hope. Even when Joey had turned up this morning, some tiny part of his exhausted brain had said maybe, but he had violently shut it down.
Second line. Rozanov. Not exactly small cons.
But Shane and only moving two hours away and people he knew were decent. He liked Joey. He liked Haas. Ryan seemed decent.
Holy shit. He'd been caught. This had been Rozanov's whole plan! Introducing him to other players, some of the coaching staff, and reminding him how much he loved playing with Shane.
Which was a fucking stupid waste of time because Hayden would've said yes to anything for Ottawa. It was the best he could've hoped for.
"Good?" Joey asked.
Hayden looked up and found a phone trained on him. Joey's phone case had weird cartoon of an egg yolk with eyes and a butt crack sleeping on the white of the egg with a piece of bacon partially pulled over it. That was distracting.
"It's good. Are you taking a video?"
"Part of my instructions," Joey said seriously, but hit something on the screen and dropped it into their lap. "Coach thought Harris might want it for social media. Not now. You know if you say yes to us."
"Right," Hayden said, the jersey still in his hands, wrinkled a bit at the shoulders were he was gripping it hard. Arthur stuck two more Duplo bricks together only a few feet away, entirely unaware their fate was being changed.
"You should say yes," Joey said. "It's a great team. We'll make you feel welcome, I promise."
They were so earnest, it made Hayden ache a little.
"Thanks, rook. You pretty much already did. No wonder Rozanov deputized you. You do actually have something to do in Montreal, right? This wasn't some sting operation where you have to drive home tonight?"
"I really do," Joey laughed. "Promise."
"You know I have to talk to like forty million people and sign a lot of shit before this is a yes, right? I've got a wife and an agent," Hayden said, reminding himself of all that too.
"Yep. I get it. Well, I don't. I haven't dated anyone for longer than a few months, but I get the idea," Joey said, then ducked their head a little. "I should go. I'm out of instructions and I know you're busy."
Hayden watched his son seize a yellow block and carefully smack it into place on a white one. "Hey, if you're enjoying playing au pair, you can stick around for a bit. I miss adult conversation."
"Really?" Joey lit up. "That'd be great, actually. My aunt has work until 5, so I was just going to hang out at her house and there's not much to do there."
"If this is how you want to spend a day of your off season, I'm not stopping you," Hayden decided. "You hungry?"
"Yes."
"Great, hope you like cheese, crackers and carrot sticks."
While he shoved things on plates, Hayden fired off a text to Jackie.
Hayden: Ottawa made an offer. I don't have numbers yet.
Jackie: Who cares about the numbers? Unless they're trying to get you on a discount, we're going.
Hayden: We won't be near your family.
Jackie: Babe, yes we will. Your family is my family. I would love to be near Shane.
Hayden: I've been told the WAGs are nice.
Jackie: I've heard good things. They can't be any worse.
Hayden: True. You won't believe how I found out either. Rozanov sent his rookie.
Jackie: Yolen?
Hayden: Goes by Joey now. Kind of accidentally turned them into a nanny.
Jackie: You didn't!
Feeling only a little guilty, considering Joey's video hijinks, Hayden took a quick discrete picture of Joey, who was obeying Arthur's need for Up in the Air very seriously. It made the crop top ride up higher, revealing more of the sharp black curve of the hidden chest tattoo. Hayden sent it to her.
Hayden: Arthur is smiling!
Jackie: I love you so much. I am not looking at our child in that picture.
Hayden: Babe!
Jackie: We're married, not dead. That is a very hot hockey player.
Hayden: What am I then?
Jackie: The hottest one. But come on. Even you have to admit that is a lot of very attractive person.
Hayden: I guess.
Jackie: Got to go, we're headed out for lunch. I'll see you tomorrow! Miss you!
Hayden: Ok.Miss you. Love you.
Jackie: Love you too.
Joey didn't have any complaints about the pathetic version of lunch Hayden was able to plate up. They weren't much of a complainer in general as far as Hayden could tell. Mostly, they were interested in talking about hockey (great), the kids (easy), and music (in genres out of Hayden's depth, but he was game to try).
"Luca got me into them," Joey concluded after playing Hayden some 'electro-funk' band that made very little sense to him.
"You two are close?" Hayden had gotten Amber up from her nap, but she was content to be worn and watch the world as he cleaned the kitchen. Arthur was by turns stacking cheese cubes and eating them very slowly.
"He's the best friend I have in Ottawa," Joey said with a shy smile. "You'd have no idea he's only lived there for a year. It's like he spent the whole year finding every good place to go for everything. And he speaks like four languages? It's insane."
"He gave me gummy bears, so I guess he's okay in my book too."
Joey laughed harder than needed at that, but Hayden would take it.
"He's got a big sweet tooth. I think it's why Coach still thinks we're both teenagers."
"You're not?" Hayden asked.
"No," Joey said with weary annoyance that meant it came up too often. "I'm older than Luca, actually. Everyone thinks I'm younger because I'm short. I turned twenty-two last week, got recruited out of college."
"Does Rozanov know that?"
"I think he thinks it's funnier if we're kids, so whatever. I let him. He treats us equally on the ice, that's all I care about."
Joey came along again to pick up the girls who were pleasantly surprised by their continued guest. They regaled everyone in the car on every detail of their day, down to the color of glitter they used on their art project which Hayden would soon be vacuuming off the floor in vain.
It wasn't until everyone was back in the house that Hayden got a phone call from his agent.
"We've got an offer in from Ottawa," she said. "I'm going to send you the details. I think we'll get one from Tampa by Monday."
"Oh yeah?" Hayden said.
"And Buffalo, maybe."
"Wow, Buffalo, huh?" he winked at Joey, who gave him a startled smile in return. "That's great."
"Hayden," she said carefully, "I think you should consider what you want your future to look like. You could be the best player in Buffalo."
"The best player in Buffalo," he repeated incredulously. Joey pulled a face.
"You'll make good money. Really get your name out there. You know that Yuna would want that for you. You should loop her in."
Yuna would want him to be with Shane, actually. Hayden knew that because last week she had called him supposedly about a potential CMC deal and then said idly, "I hope Ottawa does the right thing."
"Will do," he confirmed. "Kind of busy right this second. Really gotta go"
"Fine. But consider it! Star player of Buffalo!"
Hayden hung up. "That's what you're competing with, rook. You got anything else to sweeten the deal before I decide to be the best player for Buffalo?"
For a second Joey was silent and maybe Hayden was losing it, but was the kid blushing?
"Bood does really good barbecue?" They squeaked out.
"I do like ribs," Hayden conceded, then heard something go CRACK. "Oh my fucking god, RUBY!"
All told, it was another hour before Joey had a chance to free themselves to go meet up with their family.
"You'll visit soon?" Jade asked, doing her best sweet little face. "I want to play Uno again."
"You're too good at Uno," Joey said. "You beat me so hard. I don't know if I can stand to play again."
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again," she said seriously.
"Wow, yeah good advice," Joey nodded. "Did your Dad tell you that?"
"No," she said as if that was an extremely ridiculous suggestion. "Mommy does. She's really smart."
"Smarter than your Dad?" Joey asked. Little shit.
Jade glanced up at Hayden who sighed, "Tell them the truth, kiddo, it's fine. We all know Mommy is the smart one."
"Mommy is really really smart," she said with authority. "But Daddy gives the best hugs."
"Hey, that's pretty important too," with a solemn nod, Joey extended their fist and then grinned when Jade very seriously fist bumped them and did a little explosion noise.
"In this house, you have to blow it up," Hayden explained. "It's the rule."
"Got it. Good rule."
Joey gave Ruby a fist bump too (her explosion was a little bigger and went on for far longer). Then they booped Arthur gently on the nose and straightened, offering their fist to Hayden.
He bumped his fist against Joey's with a grin. "Thanks for your help today, rook. And playing messenger. Even if you were a sting operation."
"This isn't a spy movie!" Joey protested with a laugh. "Thanks for feeding me and letting me hang out. It was fun. See you soon, Hayden?"
"Yeah, seems likely," he said. Then watched them leave with a weird pang.
The intense chaos of dinner and bedtime stole any time to think from him. Hayden had to bribe the girls with another watch of Moana to buy precious time for Arthur's bath and getting Amber settled for the night in her crib. He watched the last half hour with them half-asleep on the couch, monitor clutched in one hand. Then it was another round of baths and arguing and story time and then…
Then it was quiet.
Whcih meant Hayden started cleaning. After the first two times Jackie had left for trips like these and come home to a disastrous house, Hayden had learned his lesson. It was only relaxing for her to go away if she wasn't coming back to a disaster. So it was another round of laundry, kitchen clean up, living room pickup, and straightening shoes by the front door. By the end, Hayden just went to his bed with phone in hand, not even pretending he was going to stay up past 10.
He had his phone read him the offer from Ottawa, forwarding it to Jackie for whenever she wanted to look at it and then after a moment's thought, to Yuna too. Jackie wouldn't reply, it was just so she had it, but he wasn't surprised that minutes after he'd hit send, Yuna texted him.
Yuna: I know it's not ideal, but I think you should consider it.
Hayden: My agent thinks I should see what Buffalo is offering. Apparently I could be their best player.
Yuna: That is certainly one school of thought.
Ouch.
Hayden: What's your school?
Yuna: The Centaurs are going to win the cup next year. Do you want to maybe be the best player on a team that likely won't see the playoffs or do you want to be on a team that wins and values you even if you're not first line?
Hayden: The second one.
Yuna: Good. You can negotiate the salary a little. Once the contract is signed, I can move on some things. Having you closer will make it easier to do small market promos. Your social media appeal will work better on local businesses than bigger corporations.
Hayden: No Rolex for me?
Yuna: Do you want Rolex?
Hayden: Not really.
Yuna: Good. Let's start with car dealerships and see where we go.
Hayden set his phone down on his charger, next to the monitor and settled in for what would hopefully be an uninterrupted jerk off session and a few hours of sleep.
He was running through his usual mental slideshow of Greatest Hits with Jackie with a good deal of porn mixed in. On this kind of night, he was only gunning for an orgasm so he could get some sleep and hopefully 'quiet' so he wouldn't be running off to take care of someone's needs with self-induced blue balls.
So it was simple. The basics. Sucking on tits, eating Jackie out until she pulled his hair, that one video of a girl doing a reverse cowgirl with her hair flowing all the way down her back to touch the top of her perfect ass.
As he neared the end, an intrusive thought spiked so hard through the tried and true that it was like switching from 720p to 4K.
Joey Yolen's doe eyes and very plush lips looking up at Hayden from their knees, their already naturally tousled hair a wreck from fingers being run through it.
Hayden came so hard his ears rang. He lay there, panting and run over and freaked out for a long minute as come cooled on his hand and stomach.
With terrible post-nut clarity, Hayden had a buckwild thought:
It hadn't been a sting operation.
It had been a fucking honeypot.
Which was insane. Because Hayden was straight. Very straight. The straightest. And faithful. So straight and faithful, he had only slept with one woman in his whole life, a fact that he prayed only Shane knew, but was worried was written all over him.
Sex with Jackie was great. Hayden loved her like crazy. He didn't need to sleep with other women to know that she was best. He didn't want any other women.
He certainly wasn't interested in a muscular pretty rookie, who had followed him around all day for no particularly good reason and was excellent company and helpful and cute. Obviously. It was an anomaly. A blip. An overtired mind at work.
Hayden pulled out some tissues, then got up to wash his hands. Then his face. Then he ducked his whole head under the faucet to cool off. There was too much going on right now to start with this shit. He shoved it in a mental box. locked it, and tossed into the depths of his brain to be roundly ignored.
Getting back in bed, he pulled Jackie's pillow closer and buried his face in the traces of her familiar scent. Tomorrow, they would talk about Ottawa and they'd plan their future. That mattered more than anything else.
Hayden was tired, but his body felt light. He was leaving this house, but maybe, finally, he was taking his family home.