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Seb loved Hammer.
The only reason they weren’t together together yet, in Seb’s honest opinion, was the NHL. Everyone important already knew. Their friends and family knew about them and were excessively supportive, but Seb wished they would dial down the enthusiasm for a few weeks so Seb could at least pretend not to be counting down the days until the end of the season. Mostly, if you asked Seb, he would say he was looking forward to retirement so he and Hammer could finally be together together.
Nothing about the big things was going to change, not really. Seb and Hammer were going to continue living together, so that part wouldn’t be too different. Their house already had all of their mismatched mugs, a beautiful Persian carpet running the length of the hall that Seb adored, and an ugly couch Hammer insisted was perfectly fine, even though it sagged in the middle.
Seb wondered if people who didn’t play hockey understood how strange it was to spend most of their twenties in locker rooms and airports. It made the idea of building an ordinary life later feel almost alien. Seb was excited about having a standing Thursday date night instead of only managing it when the schedule allowed.
Seb could hold Hammer’s hand when they walked down the street instead of settling for an arm slung casually around his waist. When Hammer’s hands got cold in winter, Seb could warm them properly instead of watching Hammer steal his scarf like some grumpy thief. They could go to Bears games together to sit in the family box with the WAGs, and he could have Hammer kiss the chocolate off his mouth instead of Hammer only telling Seb to wipe it off. Seb had been so surprised when Hammer had wiped it off with his thumb on Valentine’s Day, and had to look away so he wouldn’t jump across the table to kiss him. Hammer had looked so adorably disgruntled at the fanboy who had interrupted them.
Seb had many moments over the years when the urge to kiss Hammer rose so suddenly that it startled him, after big wins and during bus rides and long flights, and each time Hammer had fallen asleep on his shoulder. The worst had probably been after they won the Stanley Cup, and it felt so long ago now, but adrenaline had been vibrating through every cell in his body, and Seb and Hammer had grabbed each other in a fierce hug on the ice. For a split second, Seb had thought about leaning in and kissing him right there in front of the entire arena, like fucking Hunter had ended up doing a few years later. They had settled for a quick nose rub at the time. Seb still thought about it sometimes, the way Hammer’s hands had tightened on the back of his jersey like he had the exact same idea.
Over the last few months, Seb had caught himself watching Hammer when Hammer didn’t realise it. The way Hammer tied his skates, the way Hammer leaned back in his chair during team meetings, the way Hammer's shoulders relaxed when they finally got home after a long roadie. Seb could not wait to kiss Hammer in public whenever he wanted, and make Hammer read the books that Hammer’s ma’s book club made Seb read. It was only a week until the Cup final, after which they could do their little press conference and be done with the song and dance of the hockey world. Seb was looking forward to small, stupid things that had somehow become monumental in his imagination.
It absolutely wasn’t that Seb didn’t love hockey, because he really did. Seb loved hockey. It was just that Seb also loved Hammer and his family, which included his parents, their set of Boston boys, Hammer’s parents and possibly Hollzy, who was growing on Seb, and he loved them in that order, after which came hockey.
Seb had always been a little bit shameless about loving the people in his life, and it had taken real effort over the years to keep that instinct contained in public. His Instagram drafts were full of things he had never posted, photos of shirtless Hammer looking unfairly good after practice, videos of shirtless Hammer laughing with the rest of the Boston boys, and a particularly shaky video where Hammer attempted to cook Seb breakfast shirtless. Seb wanted to post all of it. Seb desperately wanted to be sappy on Instagram and get teased for it and post thirst traps of Hammer’s fucking hot body without cropping the frame just right, maybe even convince Hammer to continue those ad shoots that needed him in just his underwear, even though they didn’t need the money.
Seb certainly didn’t need any more money because he had grown up with it, and he had made a lot of money while he played hockey. Seb’s parents had given him every advantage possible growing up, because he had always been called dumb his whole life. When teachers called him distracted or slow as a kid, his parents had simply reminded Seb that curiosity mattered more than speed.
Hammer had never treated Seb like he was slow. A lot of people had, growing up, once they realised Seb’s brain tended to run in strange directions and occasionally skipped lots of conversational steps. Hammer listened to every one of Seb’s thoughts the same way he listened to a play breakdown, like he was trying his best to understand Seb, and it hadn’t been an intuitive understanding in the beginning, not like Roz’s freaky mind, but Hammer had learnt Seb for Seb, and that was infinitely more precious. It had taken Seb a long time to realise he wasn’t dumb after all.
Seb had realised halfway through high school that math made sense to him, second only to hockey, and he hadn’t thought he’d play pro, so math was the only other thing he had been good at. For a while, he had genuinely believed math would be his future, some quiet life built around statistics or something. Seb wondered if he should go back and finish his degree after his retirement. The thought felt oddly comforting, and it would be fun. He could picture himself walking across a campus with a backpack slung over one shoulder, half listening to friends while texting Hammer about what they should make for dinner. Seb was sure Hammer wouldn’t mind driving him to campus every day. In Seb’s favourite version of the daydream, Hammer would pick him up after class in that absurdly large Jeep he loved so much. Seb would walk out of the building to find him leaning against the hood, looking unfairly handsome for someone who had probably just come from the gym. Seb would press Hammer against the door of the jeep and kiss him until he heard one of his new college friends whistle, and he wouldn’t stop until he had no breath left.
Seb had never been particularly subtle about loving things. It showed in the way he asked questions constantly, in the way his thoughts spilled out of his mouth before he had time to filter them. People sometimes said he talked too much or got distracted easily, but Hammer had never seemed to mind, and so what if Seb always seemed to say the wrong thing in conversations? It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and Seb liked having all his thoughts out there, and Hammer seemed to like it, so why would he stop?
Seb suspected they’d be asked to do interviews everywhere once they came out. He was excited to really and finally have his thoughts out there, and he was looking forward to giving little interviews where they would ask about Hammer, and Seb could gush about the man. Seb already knew he would end up oversharing, because he always did.
Seb hoped he could prompt one of the interviewers to ask if Hammer was a good kisser, and he could tell them Hammer was a better kisser than Rozanov, whom he had kissed under the mistletoe almost a decade ago. Hammer would grumble and pretend to be annoyed at Seb, but Seb knew Hammer would rewatch the clip until he knew all the words by heart, and Roz would fly out to tackle Seb until Seb admitted Roz wasn’t a bad kisser, and maybe Hollzy would come with Roz to tell Seb rather primly that no one was a better kisser than Roz, and Seb would laugh and draw Hammer into a very filthy kiss. Seb wanted to be able to be as embarrassingly affectionate as he felt every second of the day.
Seb liked to guess who would message him after they came out, to tell him they realised Seb and Hammer were together long before either of them said anything. The hockey world was a terrible place to keep secrets, but they were all mostly oblivious, so who knew what they knew?
Hammer and Seb could start a hockey podcast! Hammer would never go for that, though. Maybe Seb could convince Marlow to do it once Marlow retired? The little shit loved knowing everything about other people, and they could make the fun commentary while Seb talked stats because Seb had a really good memory for numbers, even if they might need to edit it a lot in case Seb accidentally and entirely possibly said inappropriate shit. Seb liked the idea of becoming one of those retired players who annoyed everyone by posting analysis threads after midnight.
Seb dreamed of their wedding. Hammer’s ma and Seb had been talking about wedding ideas for years, and had a shared Pinterest board that was overflowing with good ideas. They had started adding chairs to the board after Roz and Hollander forgot to have any. Seb was sure Hammer would have a lot of thoughts on colour schemes and would want pastels, and Seb would have too many opinions on the ceremony itself, so they had a lot of work cut out for them. Maybe the first year of retirement wouldn’t leave them quite as listless as they had thought it would leave them. Seb would be exhausted, but he would be exhausted with Hammer, and he loved being exhausted with Hammer, to snuggle into bed together and sleep with their limbs tangled until they were one person instead of two.
Hammer took such good care of Seb. Seb liked to imagine getting married so he could finally lord it over Arya about who had the better husband. Sure, Viggy was okay at being a husband, and Seb would be somewhat fine too, but Hammer would be the absolute best. Hammer took care of everyone, and so what if he was a man of few words? Seb could talk enough for both of them, and Hammer always communicated the important things. Seb wondered if married people ever got used to calling someone their husband. It sounded like such a big word, heavy with importance, but Seb suspected he would end up saying it constantly just because he liked the sound of it, and Hammer would definitely be the best husband ever. Seb thought about arguing with Hollzy about who had the better husband, because Hollander would fight about nothing else but Roz. Seb had a nagging curiosity about how Hollzy would fight. Seb had been a defenseman all his life, so he wasn’t worried about Hollzy’s puny little fists or anything. Seb was just curious.
The thing was that Seb was always curious. It was why he asked questions incessantly. His parents had always supported whatever strange direction his interests took, encouraging his endless questions instead of shutting them down. How could he know if he didn’t ask? And then he’d stayed at home in Boston for college, and then been drafted to the Bears, so Boston had always been his life.
Hammer, on the other hand, wasn’t from Boston. His family had moved so Hammer could have better opportunities, and Hammer did not take that lightly. He was always busy working out or working, and Seb had watched him grind through the first few years of his career with a focus that bordered on frightening, determined to make sure his family never had to worry about money again. Hammer had hustled through sponsorships and ad shoots until their third year, when he felt his family had enough money to fall back on, and enough in his siblings’ college funds, and had paid off his parents’ mortgage.
Hammer was the only one of Seb’s NHL buddies who hadn’t made a ridiculous purchase the minute they got their first big salary. Seb himself had bought his mom a painting she’d liked at a gallery opening he’d gone to with her. Seb’s parents still had it in their living room, even though they had better, more expensive paintings, and loved telling everyone who came home that Seb had got it for them with his first-ever salary. Seb loved his parents so much, but he didn’t have any siblings, and his parents were so wonderful that Seb had never wished for a bigger family. Then he’d met Hammer’s family, and now he couldn’t imagine life without them. Seb couldn’t imagine life without Hammer.
Seb sometimes asked himself if Hammer’s siblings already thought of him as family, as Seb considered them family. Hammer’s little brother constantly texted him memes he insisted Hammer didn’t understand, and Seb had helped all three of them with math assignments, since none of them had graduated high school when Seb and Hammer had first met, and they had found out Seb was a numbers guy. No one had ever said anything about it, but he felt like family, the guncle who bought them all the ridiculous presents before sending them back home full of sugar.
Seb wondered if Hammer would let him buy something ridiculous like a boat. Not a useful boat or anything, but one of those sleek, unnecessary ones people in Boston took out twice a summer before complaining about maintenance. Seb didn’t even particularly care about boats, but the idea of Hammer standing at the helm in tiny shorts, looking mildly exasperated at Seb learning about boat maintenance in similarly short shorts, felt extremely appealing.
Hammer automatically reached for Seb in a crowded room, but so did Seb. Seb loved Hammer in a way that had slowly threaded itself through every ordinary part of his life until there was no separating the feeling from the routine.
Seb just couldn’t wait to finally be together together.