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It’s Willy who brings it up. Willy’s, like, friendly and chill and works hard, but he’s not by any stretch of the imagination the brightest guy in the room. In a room full of hockey players, that’s saying something.
But, like, neither’s Andy, so fucking whatever.
Andy knows better than to ask a whole locker room though. He might slip a sneaky question in while out drinking, or a quiet whisper to a roomie on a roadie. Not make it, like, everyone’s business. Not that everyone’s in the room. But, like, enough of ‘em.
Now that the question’s out, though, Andy is a little curious about an answer.
The question being, “Um, have any of you guys done butt stuff? Sylvie said she wants to try anal but I don’t wanna, like, hurt her…” Willy trails off, cheeks faintly pink.
And, like, look, it fucking rocks that his girl wants to get adventurous. Andy’s between girlfriends right now, but he kind of thinks he’s got a vibe going with one of the baristas at the coffee shop near his apartment, and she seems like the kind of girl who might be into freaky shit. She has a lip piercing and everything.
Her name’s Corinna and she keeps comping his oat milk. Andy gets the oat milk because he’s fucking lactose intolerant, okay? Not because he’s a weird vegan hippy or something, although he thinks maybe he could figure out eating tofu if she let him eat her out. So.
Andy keeps taping his stick and listens in.
The marrieds kind of pause, then all collectively decide it’s none of their business. Andy gets that. You don’t say the same type of shit about the girl you’re married to as, like, a college girl you fucked in Arizona or whatever.
“That’s fuckin’ hot, dude. Like in porn, or whatever,” Tails says.
(Properly, Tails is Zach Taylor, but hockey’s a game of nicknames. Andy’s Andy, for Andropov, obviously. Wilson is Willy. Miitka is Mitty, Olsson is Olly, Hollander’s Holly, and J.J. is… well, that’s definitely short for something. And Taylor is Tails because Berky–that’s Berkes–is a fucking nerd about video games. The equilibrium of a well nicknamed hockey team is not something Andy underestimates.)
Anyways. Tails isn’t fucking helpful. Porn, Jesus. As though sex is anything like porn. Tails has gotta get out more.
“I guess, but aren’t they always, like, crying?” Willy says, his face twisting. “I don’t wanna make her cry.”
Andy respects that. He’s known a few guys over the years who like the look of tears, and it doesn’t usually sit right with him. Like, what’s the point of having fun with a girl if she’s not having fun too?
Then J.J. and Holly emerge from the showers, and the room goes still. Cause, like, fuck. Obviously J.J.’s cool, and Holly can hang once you get a beer in him, but he’s pretty stuffy when it comes to talking about girls and sex stuff. He has this whole spiel about respect that all the rookies get after training camp.
It’s probably good, actually, because Andy has heard about some of the crazy shit that can happen if guys don’t know where the line is in the room and out clubbing or whatever. The Voyageurs are an old and storied hockey club in a way that’s a little intimidating to live up to sometimes. Holly’s good at making sure they keep up the reputation.
“What are we talking about?” J.J. asks with a sharp glance around the room, and this could really go one of two ways. Either Holly shuts the conversation down pronto because it’s not respectful and he’s a hardass, or J.J. will actually be able to answer Willy’s question.
Or maybe a secret third way, where Holly shuts it down but J.J. talks to Willy quietly later. Andy hopes it’s not that, because then he’ll have to ask Willy.
“Um, just, my girlfriend wants to try anal?” Willy says, nerves evident. Well, at least he knows he might be fucked. “And I just, um, was wondering if anyone had advice.”
Andy kind of wants to dap him up for a situation well handled. To the point, skipped the porn stuff, just asking for advice about his girlfriend. Home fucking run. Andy turns his gaze back to J.J. and Holly.
Holly’s got his serious eyebrows on, which is probably not a good sign, but J.J. laughs and claps Willy on the back. “Good for you, Willy. It is important to do the research and keep your lovers happy.”
Which is not advice. Willy looks faintly annoyed. “Yeah, I know.”
The conversation seems to lag as Holly crosses the room to his stall beside Andy’s. His brow is furrowed in thought, but he’s not reamed anyone out, so they’re probably in the clear.
The room has started to turn away, back to their gear and quiet conversations, when Holly defies all expectation and speaks. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Across the locker room, Tails chokes on his Gatorade and Mitty has to pound his back.
Holly ignores them. “It’s a little more complicated than, you know, the other way, but it can be… nice,” he continues, like it’s nothing.
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Their captain is a fucking legend and none of them even knew.
“Right,” Willy says faintly. “I just, like, don’t want to hurt her?”
Holly smiles. “That’s important. To respect your partner. It’s good to check in throughout, you know, especially if it’s the first time. Even if it feels like you’re checking in too much, it’s better that than making her uncomfortable.”
“Totally.” Willy is nodding and gazing at Holly with something like devotion. Andy, embarrassingly, fully gets it.
“You need the right supplies. Lube, obviously. The silicon stuff lasts better than the water based, but you can’t use it with silicon toys, so, you know, important to make that decision beforehand.”
Holy fucking shit. Andy feels like his brain is exploding. Never in a million years did he even think that Holly knew what a sex toy was before this conversation, let alone that he was, like, putting them in girls’ butts.
“Should I, um, use– toys?” Willy squeaks.
Holly shrugs. “Some people like to use them as a warm up, or as a way to explore before they even think about going all the way, but you don’t need to. The important thing is to use your fingers to open, um, her up, you know?” There’s something in the way Holly stumbles over his words, probably just that he’s realizing there’s a room full of hockey players pretending not to listen in.
Andy shoots a pleading glance at Berky, who kicks Olly, and they both turn around and go back to rearranging their gear.
Holly keeps going. “It’s, um, it’s tighter, and it doesn’t, like, loosen itself? Or get wet. So you have to do it yourself.”
“Like, two fingers?” Willy asks, which is fucking crazy to ask Holly of all people, but also, like, exactly what Andy was wondering, and apparently Holly’s the right person to ask anyway.
“Three is better.” Holly’s eyes flick down toward Willy’s legs, then back up, so fast Andy almost misses it. “Definitely three for you, Willy.”
Andy finds himself nodding along, and just as quickly stops. But like. Willy’s fucking packing. Andy’s not a shower looker, fucking obviously, but you notice what a guy’s slanging. Definitely three.
“And you have to work up to it.” Holly’s still talking. It’s the most surreal thing Andy’s ever fucking experienced. “One at a time, take it slow, like anytime you’re stretching a muscle. And you can, like, use your mouth on her while you’re fingering her. To help her relax.”
Willy wrinkles his nose in incredulity. “Like her ass?”
“Oh!” Holly blinks and finally starts to blush. Andy’s almost more at ease at the sign of weakness. “Um, I mean, you can, but I meant, like, eating her out. If she’s, like, laying on the bed, it’s right there.”
How the fuck is Holly apparently so fucking experienced, and so casual, and yet also so unbelievably awkward talking about sex? Andy will never understand his captain fully, but he is developing another radical layer of respect for the man.
“You can do it in missionary?” Willy asks with some wonder and, woah, Andy hadn’t even thought that far.
“Sure,” Holly says easily. “You can put a pillow under the hips to help the angle. And doggy is a little easier for, you know, penetration, but missionary is kind of comforting, especially at first.”
This is crazy. Andy pinches himself, and it’s still crazy. Holly, what, loves to fuck girls in the ass gently? That’s crazy.
But maybe, also, makes some sense. Corky, Andy’s buddy from back in junior, loved to say that the quiet ones are the freakiest. Holly would be a sensitive freak. It makes so much fucking sense.
No wonder he’s so quiet about the freaky sex he’s apparently having.
“Okay. Okay, so, like, lube. Work up to it slowly,” Willy repeats.
Holly nods along. “Check in, lots. Make sure she’s feeling good, feeling appreciated. Foreplay’s important.” He says it sternly, like he’s telling them that they all need to be more responsible on the back check.
“I know, Holly,” Willy says reverently.
Andy feels like he’s being inducted into a cult. Holly’s secret society of respectful, sensitive freaks. He has to ask Corinna for her number now and put this shit to the test.
You know. If she wants to.
“There’s obviously some,” Holly waves his hand vaguely, “clean up beforehand. But she’ll probably want to do that research herself.”
Willy has gone bright red. Andy’s nose wrinkles a little at the thought of it, but at least, like Holly said, that’s probably not something he needs to know much about.
“It’s still good to wear a condom, though. The clean up is easier, and you can still get STDs.”
“She could also get pregnant,” J.J. cuts in, and Andy has to catch himself before he shushes him. Like, it’s good information. He just doesn’t want to knock Holly out of this crazy flow state. Even Andy was starting to forget that there are other people around. “It is not easy, but it’s possible. Things drip, get places.”
Okay, narsty.
Holly bobs his head along, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “Right, yeah, that too. And um.” Holly’s gaze flicks to the floor, looking faintly embarrassed. It’s humanizing, somehow. Like, Andy’s kind of relieved to see the captain he knows underneath the apparently quiet sex god. “It’s good to cuddle after. It’s very, um, vulnerable. You want to make sure she knows you care.” There’s an odd thickness to his voice. Andy doesn’t dwell on it.
“And it’ll, like, it’ll feel good for her?” Willy asks.
Holly nods, then freezes, thinking about it. “I mean, not everyone likes the same thing,” he says, chagrined. “She might not be into it. But lots of people are. So that’s why you, you know, check in. Make sure she’s having fun. If it’s hurting, you slow down, add some more lube, try the fingers a little longer. And if she’s not into it or doesn’t want to keep trying, then you stop and do something else.”
“Okay,” Willy says, and there’s a new confidence in the set of his shoulders, a determination on his face. “Okay, um, thanks, Holly.”
Holly shrugs. “Can’t hurt to google it too, but, you know, it’s nothing to be scared of.”
“How the fuck do you know all that, cap?” Tails blurts across the room, and it’s like a spell is broken.
Holly’s head whips around and his face goes tomato red, and every other guy immediately averts their eyes and pretends they weren’t also listening in very closely.
“Um, I mean, I’ve done it?” It comes out a question; the quiet, knowledgeable confidence now gone.
Andy is going to fucking kill Tails.
“Not all the time, but, um, sometimes,” Holly stumbles onward.
Andy can’t bear to watch Holly lose his footing here. Not when he’s on the precipice of cementing himself as a fucking legend forever. Andy slaps a hand on Holly’s shoulder. “You’re the fucking man, Holly. A fuckin’ beautician.”
Holly blinks and then barks out an awkward laugh. “I guess. It’s just sex.” He has that look that Hayd fondly calls Holly’s awkward baby deer look, wide eyed and unsteady. It’s a shame that Hayd’s home with a flu, actually, because Andy’s dying to know what Holly’s best buddy would think of today’s show. And also maybe because he’d help Holly not get weird over giving lowkey some of the best girl advice Andy’s ever heard.
“Nah, man,” Willy leans in, clearly on the same page as Andy about pulling Holly back to earth. “You’re a fucking legend. Seriously, man.”
“Well, you know.” Holly shrugs, red up to the tips of his ears. No wonder girls always think he’s so fucking cute. All shy and sensitive and then a freak in the sheets. “Safe sex is important.”
Yeah, Holly is the fucking goat.
When Holly starts seeing Rose Landry, no one says anything. They just exchange wide eyed furtive glances and think, holy shit, Holly really is a legend. When they break up a month later, Tails says, “Maybe she didn’t wanna, you know,” and Andy hits him upside the head before Holly can catch wind of it.
It’s a few years later that Holly tells the team he’s gay.
Andy’s not, like, totally proud of how they handle it. Like, it’s Holly. Quiet, sharp as nails Holly. Fucking legend, always got your back, filthy fucking sniper Holly.
Secretly sensitive sex freak Holly.
They’re supposed to have his back too.
The sex freak thing makes a little more sense now, in retrospect. The backdoor of it all.
Andy knows that some of the guys feel weird about it now, both the broad worries of softness and shower looking, but also, for the ones who remember, that specific conversation.
But Andy thinks that’s stupid. Like, there’s lowkey no one better equipped to give that kind of advice.
Maybe he’s biased, though. Corinna is into the freaky shit, but not the way he thought. Andy wonders if Holly would be glad to know his advice made Andy brave enough to agree when Corinna asked to peg him the first time.
So all of this to say, maybe Holly being gay makes it kind of weird for some of the guys. Andy thinks they should try to have his back anyway, but he’s never really been good with words. Corinna says a tongue can only be gifted in so many ways.
Andy watches as the room goes a little quieter. As the guys are a little more careful about how they joke with Holly. The way Holly is more withdrawn, more distracted.
It’s been three months and it’s not getting better like he hoped.
“Maybe he’s seeing someone,” Corinna suggests once when Andy brings it up over dinner.
Andy pauses. “Maybe. Dunno why he’d hide it.”
Corinna smiles in that way she does when she thinks he’s cute, but missing something. Andy doesn’t know what it means that it turns him on, just knows that when she gets a little condescending, he wants to wag his tail like a dog. Except he doesn’t have a tail.
“You said the team’s already a little weird about him being gay. Maybe he doesn’t want to subject a boyfriend to that.”
Andy thinks about that for a little while, then sighs. “Maybe. Just sucks, is all. Like, it’s Holly. He should be, like, fucking untouchable.”
Corinna gives him a tight-lipped smile. “I can’t speak for him, but I think it must be very hard to be gay in such an intensely heterosexual, masculine environment.” Corinna is so fucking smart. Andy’s gonna marry her one day. Maybe soon. He rests his chin on his fist to show that he’s listening. “There are expectations, you know. About who a hockey player is supposed to be. Big, and strong, and hits hard, and shakes it off. Not, like, the stereotypes about gay men.”
Andy thinks about this. “I guess,” he says eventually. “But Holly’s… Holly. Like, we already knew he was big and strong and fucking goated at hockey. He’s led us to two cups. It’s not like he changed as a guy. I’m pretty sure he was gay the whole time.”
“Mm.” Corinna takes a sip of her wine. Andy can tell there’s still something he’s not totally getting, but she’s always patient with him. And he likes to listen to her. “Do you tell the boys that you’re taking it up the ass semi-regularly?” She asks with an arched brow.
Andy flushes and gets a little hard. She’s so fucking hot. Maybe she’ll fuck him tonight. There’s time for a shower and some fun before he has to hit the hay. “Well, no,” he says. Pauses. Thinks about it. “They’d say it was, like, soft or whatever.”
“Emasculating.”
“Yeah, that.”
“So I think it’s like that with Shane, but probably another level of intensity because he does it with men.”
“Yeah.” Andy spears a chunk of tofu with his fork and thinks about it while he chews. “Just, I think Holly tops? But, whatever, I guess if he has a boyfriend, one of them’s getting fucked. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Obviously.” His cheeks are warm, and Corinna grins.
“You’re sweet,” she says. God, he wants her to eat him alive. “We should have him over for dinner some time.”
“For sure,” Andy says, like he hasn’t thought of that before. Like, obviously, Holly fucking rules. And Andy’s pretty sure that Corinna is Holly’s second favorite WAG, after Jackie Pike, which feels like a huge achievement.
Holly’s pretty quiet, though, is the thing. Keeps to himself, with the exceptions of Hayd and J.J. Andy can’t really blame him, given the way the boys have been weird this year. But maybe that’s why Andy should break ranks, reach out.
“Yeah,” he says again. “Actually, you’re right. We could order from that Thai place, I think he eats Thai food.”
Under the table, Corinna’s stockinged foot knocks against his calf and begins to mosey upwards. “That’s a good idea. Just make sure you check our calendar before you pick a date.”
Of course, you know what they say about best laid plans and ice and men, or whatever it is. Okay, Andy doesn’t know, but Corinna probably does, so close enough.
This is to say: Andy is traded to Vancouver before the next game, before he has a chance to say something to Holly, or try to whip the guys into shape, or anything. And then life is wrapped up in the chaos of moving cross country and fitting into a new team and learning a new system.
And asking Corinna to move with him. And also to marry him.
At least she says yes. Andy would be so fucking lost without her.
In the chaos, Andy loses touch with Holly.
There’s a lot going on, in his defense, between a wedding to plan and a house to buy and playoffs to miss by two points.
They elope in June, which makes it easier.
A new season arrives, and when they play Montreal, Andy makes sure to say hi to Holly when they meet on the ice, but the truth is that he thinks about his former captain more than he knows how to explain.
Especially when Vancouver slap an A on him.
But it’s too much to explain on ice, and he wouldn’t know how to say it, and when he goes out for drinks after games it’s with his old buddies like Willy and Berky.
But when it comes out, a few years after that debacle, that Holly has been secretly seeing Rozanov, two things become clear. One, Corinna was right about it being complicated to be gay in hockey. Like, holy shit, Andy didn’t know how fucking bad it could be. He has to very, very firmly tell his own locker room that if they’re gonna be dipshits about it, they’ll have to take it up with Andy first.
And two— well. Andy can admit when he’s wrong. And look, he’s, like, mostly straight. Corinna says he’s probably a Kinsey scale 1, but Andy doesn’t really care about that when he’s got all he needs wrapped up in his beautiful, brilliant wife. So, it’s not like Andy knows tons about gay guy dynamics. But he’s done some bottoming in his day, and it is abruptly very clear that this is something he and Holly have in common.
No wonder Holly’s advice was so good.
Andy almost sends Holly flowers with thanks for his advice five years late, but Corinna stops him and says, “Maybe just a text? That reminder might be a bit overwhelming right now.”
And that’s why she’s the fucking best.
So Andy keeps it simple. Heartfelt. Genuine.
Hey man. Saw the news, hope you’re doing okay. Always thought you were really fucking brave for telling everyone in Montreal. Wish I’d done more to make it better. Hope they’re treating you alright. Let me know if you ever need anything - Corinna and I are in your corner, man.
Holly doesn’t reply, but Andy figures he’s probably got a lot going on.
It becomes clear, after the playoffs, that Andy’s old team were not treating Holly alright. Andy doesn’t mind texting Comeau directly that he’s a fucking idiot when he starts running his mouth in the media.
Andy wishes he had done more. He’s realized, in the years since, that you can be loud and goofy and also, sometimes, serious. He likes taking the rookies out after camp and giving them Holly’s talk about respect and consent and safe sex. Makes him feel like he’s helping to build the team in more ways than just putting up reasonable second line minutes.
Eventually, Holly texts with thanks and an invitation to his wedding in July.
They go. It’s kind of a bizarre wedding, no chairs and hardly any ceremony, but it’s not like Andy and Corinna have room to judge. They got married on a nudist beach at sunrise while Corinna was balls deep in finishing her doctoral thesis.
Okay, that’s not totally fair. Corinna insists that Wreck Beach is technically clothes optional, not nudist. Whatever.
Andy kind of figures that as long as you get married at the end of the day, it’s a success.
The Voyageurs crowd is small, just J.J. and the Pikes and Andy and Corinna, which makes Andy feel doubly bad for not doing something about it. There’s something sharp and sad in Corinna’s eyes when she tucks a hand into Andy’s arm that makes him think she’s feeling the same. Like maybe it was a responsibility that belonged to a lot of people, but they still failed it despite better intentions.
“How’s Vancouver?” J.J. asks when the rest of the catching up is done.
Andy pauses and considers the question. “Getting better. The Baldwin thing was— not great. But we’re working on it.” He eyes J.J. thoughtfully. J.J. has two years left on his contract. “We could use some more culture setters.”
“And defencemen,” J.J. observes.
Andy rolls his eyes. “Well, obviously.”
When the happy couple do get around to their cluster, Andy daps Holly up like old times. Like old times, Holly is both a little clumsy and somehow a hair too rehearsed, but Andy lets it slide the way he always has.
That’s Holly: a little awkward, a little quiet, but a good guy, a fucking excellent hockey player, and lowkey a freak in the sheets. Fuckin’ beauty.
“Good to see you, man,” Andy says, same as always, because he’s still not really sure why things were supposed to change between them.
“You too,” Holly says, pleased but evidently a little perplexed. And given that apparently Andy is one of only three of Holly’s former teammates who warranted an invite and they’ve barely talked in three years, that seems fair. Like what the fuck is Andy doing here?
He glances down at Corinna. He’s following Holly’s example, he supposes. Setting the tone. Showing up for his boys. Following through.
“I wanted to say,” Andy starts before he can stop himself. “That thing you explained to Willy in like 2016? Changed my fuckin’ life man.”
He says it with a slap to Holly’s shoulder, which he takes with another look of confusion, glancing at Corinna and then back to Andy with dawning comprehension. Holly goes furiously red. “Oh. Um. Well, I’m glad it helped.”
“Best fuckin captain I ever had,” Andy says earnestly, and Holly somehow goes even redder. “Congratulations, both of you.”
Rozanov has been looking between the two of them with increasing amusement, and he sweeps in to thank Andy as Holly gapes like a fish. “Thank you, Andropov, Corinna. And thank you for coming.”
Later, in the car back to the hotel, Andy slaps his forehead. “Aw, fuck. I just realized they probably think I, you know, do you, rather than the other way around.”
Corinna throws her head back and laughs. “I don’t really mind. It’s not like we’ve never tried it that way. But, anyway, somehow I think Rozanov’s a little more perceptive than that.”
“Huh.” Andy pauses. “Maybe.”
(Days later, when Shane and Ilya are wrapped up in each other at the cottage, still decompressing and debriefing, Shane says, “I can’t believe Andy thanked me for explaining anal. I kind of thought no one would ever want to acknowledge it again after I came out.”
“Mm.” Ilya turns over so he can see Shane’s face, even with his head pillowed in Shane’s lap. “I think maybe he thanked you because he is the one taking it.”
“No way.” Shane stops. Thinks about it. “I mean, there’s no way, right? He’s, like, a straight hockey bro.”
Ilya shrugs. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like a prostate orgasm. And his wife seems like the type.”
Well. And that does kind of seem true.)