Archive of Our Own ^omega

It occurs to Hayden sometime around their second season together that despite the fact that he hangs out with Shane more than with anyone else on the team—god knows why, he just loves the guy—he kind of knows nothing about him.

Hayden knows what everyone else knows. He knows Shane is half Japanese and half white and has been playing hockey basically since he could walk. A tried and true Canadian to his bones who eats, sleeps, and breathes hockey, can’t bring himself to be disrespectful (and even chirps politely), and is fluent in French. He doesn’t particularly like Tim Horton’s or maple syrup, which is almost a criminal offense against the crown, but that gets folded into all of his other idiosyncrasies that make him likable and real instead of a total ass. Sure, Hayden knows a couple of things their teammates probably don’t. He occasionally hears more personal anecdotes about Shane’s parents, though Shane doesn’t really mix hockey and personal life, and come to think of it, Hayden isn’t sure what Shane’s personal life is, actually.

After a couple of seasons together, Hayden understands that Shane isn’t exactly the life of the party. He’s a homebody with an almost pathological love for hockey. He takes books about hockey with him on road trips and doesn’t drink during the season, and stringently maintains a rather humdrum routine of exercising, meditating, practicing, and watching Youtube videos of cute animals and stuff like that. But, as Hayden finishes another story about Jackie’s latest ultrasound visit, he realizes Shane is still…kind of mysterious.

Like, does he like video games? Does he have favorite things other than ginger ale? Was he a fussy child or an easy one? Does he wish he went to college before being going pro? Does he ever get nervous before the game? Does he have anyone, besides Hayden and his parents, in his life?

Shane’s eyes tend to glaze over when everyone else gets personal. Hayden can talk a lot without feeling self-conscious, but there’s only so much he can talk about before he needs a little encouragement. Shane cares, of course. He regularly comes over for dinner with Jackie and the twins, and patiently allows the girls to walk all over him. He held them as babies, changed diapers when needed. He seems to like hanging out with Hayden well enough, but he also doesn’t initiate a lot of activities. Hayden would feel strange about it if he didn’t know Shane is that way with everyone else too.

Hayden sometimes feels like a bit of an odd guy out because he settled down and had kids so young, and while other players are out celebrating after the game, he’s calling Jackie and the girls to say goodnight while Shane is in the next hotel bed over reading. Shane never makes fun of him for being an old man or a bummer when he prioritizes his family, and never calls Jackie the ol’ ball and chain, which Hayden appreciates more than Shane will ever know. And Shane isn’t out fucking anyone at all, really. He’s always back in their room before midnight, save for a few late nights here and there, all in Boston.

In that way, they’re sort of matched, but Shane is just…closed-off.

Hayden tries to be delicate about it. But once the seed is planted in his mind, he can’t shake it off. He waits for a night when they’re rooming together after a game, and he’s already called home and is getting ready for bed. Hayden knows Jackie wouldn’t mind him getting into Shane’s bed for a bro heart-to-heart, but Shane would definitely mind. He entertains the idea anyway out of amusement. Shane would probably push him off the bed. He’s never seen Shane yell at anyone, but that might just get him to do it.

“Hey, Shane,” Hayden says. Shane lowers his phone and makes a noise to indicate he heard. “Can I ask you something, buddy?”

“Um. Yeah, of course?” Shane leans forward a little so he can see Hayden around the clunky wall-mounted lamp between them. He looks tired. Hayden doesn’t want to drag it out.

“I was just thinking the other day. You know how I’m always talking about Jackie and the kids? And weird things that happen to me and drivers who piss me off, and stuff like that?”

“Yes,” Shane says, brow furrowed. He always gets like that when he’s worried, which is most of the time. It can’t be good for his heart. Hayden plows ahead, not wanting to keep him in a state of suspense and stress the poor guy out worse. “Why?”

“Well, does it ever feel, like…a little unfair?”

“Unfair?” Shane’s voice drops slightly. Hayden can practically see his stress multiply. His voice takes on that tight flatness, like he can’t quite figure out what tone to slot in, like he’s so focused on the mechanics of formulating a sentence with which to reply that he forgets about the rest of the package. Hayden is finally used to that. “I don’t get what you mean. Unfair because…because why?”

“Well. It’s just that I’m always sharing stuff with you and talking about my life, and you don’t…really do that. You know, people usually reciprocate.”

Shane blinks. “I do tell you things. I told you about that trip my parents are taking to—”

“Not like that,” Hayden clarifies hastily. God knows he can’t hear any more about Shane’s parents without launching himself off the hotel balcony. He’s sure Shane has a personality and character traits of his own outside of his parents and hockey, but it’s like pulling teeth to get there. “That’s not really about you.”

“Hayd, I’m lost,” Shane confesses. He looks flustered by the conversation, and Hayden can’t quite articulate his point. Thank god Jackie is good with words, but how is Hayden supposed to drive such a sensitive conversation with Shane, when Shane is even more tongue-tied?

“I just feel like maybe I share a lot,” Hayden says, tangling further and further. From the look on Shane’s face, he isn’t helping the situation. “Um, and you don’t. It’s like, you have a life, right? But you don’t tell me about it?”

“Is this, like…” Shane’s eyes look a little shiny. “Are you upset? With me?”

Oh shit. Nope. “No! No, no, fuck. That’s not what I meant. I’m trying to say I feel like I might be a bad friend. Like, friends share things, and I think I make you feel like it’s hard to talk to me, or something. I don’t know. I need to shut up sometimes.”

“You have ADHD,” Shane says in complete seriousness. Which, fine. Is true. “Isn’t that normal?”

“Well, yeah, but—” Hayden rubs frustratedly at his face. “What I’m trying to say is, I feel like I don’t know you. And I want to, man. I want to know all the weird stuff that happens to you, even if it’s just little stuff, and I want to know other stuff too. Like, are you watching any cool shows? Did you watch a cool video lately? Did you hook up? Stuff guys tell each other, you know?”

“Um,” Shane says, voice still a little unsettled, but eyes less shiny. Hayden feels like he’s narrowly avoided the Cuban missile crisis. “Why do you want to know? I mean, there’s nothing to know. We spend so much time together, I...not much left to the imagination.”

“You’re telling me you don’t do anything? Shane, everyone has something. What about—” Hayden hesitates for a moment, second-guessing himself. He’s not sure if it’s off-limits; they’ve never discussed it, and Shane hasn’t volunteered it, but maybe he just needs someone to push him a bit, show him they want to hear about it. “Like, what about your Boston girl?”

“My what?” Shane’s shoulders creep up next to his ears. He laughs awkwardly. “I don’t have a Boston girl, Hayd.”

“But every time we’re playing in Boston, you disappear for the night, and it’s like, the only time you do,” Hayden points out. He’s flying in the dark here. He doesn’t know what he expected. Maybe for Shane to sprint out of the room screaming, or something. “What, you just really like the pizza there, or something? Why don’t you tell me about that, maybe? Just to satisfy a guy’s curiosity?”

“Hayden, there’s no girl in Boston,” Shane says seriously, “or anywhere else, for that matter. There’s no pizza place.”

“Okay, so? Where do you go?”

“It’s not really any of your business,” Shane says, and there it is. The shutters have been closed between them. Shane is giving him a very clear signal: too close. He doesn’t want to talk about his girl. Hayden briefly considers what would make a guy so uncomfortable about a girl. Shane doesn’t seem embarrassed, like it’s just some kind of crush he’s shy about. Shane also doesn’t seem sad, like they broke up. Does he go to some kind of doctor in Boston that he doesn’t want anyone to know about, to help with some secret injury he’s ashamed to disclose? Was his drug dealer in Boston? No. Scratch that. Hayden knew without asking how ridiculous of a theory that was. But there was something, right?

“I’m not trying to be nosy—”

“Yes, you are.” Shane raises his eyebrows at Hayden, obviously disgruntled. “Look, I just...I like Boston, okay? I like...walking.”

“You like walking,” Hayden repeats in disbelief. Is Shane fucking serious? Honestly, it could be true. Shane might be one of the only people in the world who could say that and mean it. “So you’re, what, walking around the city for hours every night? By yourself? And only in Boston?”

“I guess,” Shane says a bit irritably. “Can we go to bed? I’m tired. I’ll tell you if and when I get a girlfriend.”

“If and when, huh,” Hayden grumbles. “Fine. Go to bed, mystery man. Sue me for caring about your life.”

“Hayd,” Shane says, face sober. Hayden feels a little bad. He’s being a dick. Shane doesn’t owe him anything about his life. But Hayden feels a little like he’s purposely being kept on the other side of some line he didn’t know existed. Shane takes a breath, and for a moment, he seems a little...less sure of himself. “I like being your friend. I like your stories. I’m just a private person, okay? It’s not personal.”

“Right.” Hayden gives him an artificial smile, determined to shake it off and move on. They can’t be beefing tomorrow during the game. Linemates have to trust each other. He and Shane work well together, and he won’t ruin it over an imagined conflict. “You’re right, dude, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to press.”

“You know I like being friends?” Shane adds. Hayden nods. He has functional ears, yes. “I’m really glad you asked me to dinner that first time. It was really nice. I’m not hiding anything from you. I promise.”

“I heard you, bud,” Hayden says as lightly as he can manage. “Don’t sweat it. I get weird and lonely away from Jackie, I guess. Sorry.”

“It’s no problem. I do want to sleep, though.”

Hayden gives Shane a stupid salute and wriggles down in bed. He turns off his bedside light, and a moment later, Shane’s lamp shuts off. Stupid, he thinks to himself. He invented something to be upset about. Boredom is a serious vice. He needs to call Jackie tomorrow.

After those first few years, they’re no longer required to room together most of the time. Hayden loses track of what Shane does on his away nights. Every time Hayden asks if Shane has been seeing anyone, Shane tells him no, that he’s focused on hockey, that he’s happy to wait around for the right person to come around at the right time. Shane makes it to captain and slowly lets Hayden in on other things, like how sometimes he feels weird shopping for clothes because he’s too embarrassed to try them on in case they look bad, even if nobody is going to see him in them outside the changing room. Or how he likes aquariums but not zoos. Or how he wishes they made purses for men, because it seems like a handy way to carry around everything he needs.

Hayden even makes it to the layer of his childhood. Like, that school was hard for him, not academically but socially. That he never saw any of his friendship-breakups coming, and he was relieved when his hockey prospects took off and he could switch to online homeschooling and focus on hockey. He likes rules and patterns, and hockey is full of those. He likes moving, because it empties his head of all his stress, and he likes winning because it feels like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place.

And for the most part, it assuages Hayden’s curiosity enough to at least keep it at bay, but every now and then it itches a little. He runs through the possibilities. Maybe Shane has a weird-shaped dick. Hayden once saw a guy in a porn video whose dick curved slightly to the right, and was unable to think of anything else for a week. Or maybe something is wrong with it that makes sex hard or unpleasant. An STD? Hayden tries to discreetly check Shane’s situation out in the showers and finds his dick to be impossibly normal. On top of that, it wouldn’t make sense for that to last multiple seasons—they get annual checkups with bloodwork, which always includes an STD screening panel, which would have put Shane on alert, which means he would have had it treated by now.

Shane’s a pretty stressed guy, so maybe it’s a problem with getting it up. He doesn’t think Shane’s on any medications, and he famously doesn’t drink, but maybe he’s just too in his head to get hard. Especially because Shane seems vaguely afraid of girls in bars.

It comes up from time to time. Not Shane specifically, but guys talk. Most of them like to talk at least a little about their sex lives, at least enough to impart to the other guys how virile and attractive they are. It’s the kind of conversation where Shane usually leaves the room to go to the bathroom, or sits quietly and smiles, chirping lightly on the sidelines without much bite. And it’s all fine, because he’s their implacable Cap, too polite and respectful to talk about such base things and too dedicated to the game to think about sex.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” Stedlund laughs. “My theory, he’s getting so much pussy he doesn’t want to make the rest of us feel bad.”

“Based on what?” Gagnon scoffs. “Maybe he’s got a long-term GF. You know, like how Pike doesn’t talk shop about his wife. Hollzy, feel free to jump in here any minute now.”

“I don’t want to be part of this,” Shane says placidly, packing up his gear. “We should probably talk less about girls in general in here. Don’t be gross.”

“Ugh, Hollander,” JJ groans, sitting down on the bench with a heavy thud and tossing his head back until the lockers rattle with the impact. He fixes Shane with an exasperated look. “Don’t take away our favorite pastime just because you’re gay.”

Hm. Okay.

Shane straightens immediately, face registering surprise. Hayden reaches across the room with his stick and pokes JJ in the ribs, hard. “Bro, you’re about to get whacked. Just because a guy is polite doesn’t make him gay.”

“Prove it,” JJ shoots back. “This guy has never even been seen in the same room as a woman other than his mother. It’s like he’s trying to avoid them.”

“Like he has a forcefield keeping them away,” Comeau snickers.

“I’m not gay,” Shane says, a touch of uncharacteristic annoyance in his voice. “Cut it out, okay. Practice is over. Let’s go home.”

“I don’t buy it,” JJ says, and this time Hayden actually stands up and walks over, raising his stick up above his head to fake-threaten JJ with an impending blow. “Hey, it’s just a joke. Hollander knows I’m joking.”

“Anybody who wants to accuse Shane of being gay can go through me,” Hayden announces, slinging an arm around Shane’s shoulders. Shane looks straight up at the ceiling, like he’s trying to manifest himself into a different dimension to escape the onslaught. “He’s an awesome captain. Besides, I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t know any gay guys who can hang with the boys and play like an absolute fucking beast. He’s not, like, starring in a stage production of the Nutcracker in his spare time.”

“I didn’t know you like ballet,” JJ says with a smirk. Hayden rolls his eyes.

“Uh, my daughters fucking love ballet, dude. Now those guys are probably gay. But Shane, no way. This guy is fucking his way through the eastern seaboard, I’d bet any of you. Look at him. You think this guy goes ass up for some queen in a bar in New York? No. He’s out there beating everybody in the league and winning awards. No offense to gay guys, or whatever.”

“Okay, thank you,” Shane says curtly, shoving Hayden’s arm off. “All of you, I’m serious. Nobody wants to know what size condom you wear or who licked your balls last night. I definitely fucking don’t, so.”

“See, not gay,” Hayden adds. “He would love to know those things if he was gay. Trust me.”

Shane looks at him like he’s grown a second head and missed five shots on goal. Hayden doesn’t care if Shane is irritated. He doesn’t defend himself, so Hayden will.

“I’m heading out,” Shane says. “Keep it clean. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait up, bro.”

Shane does not wait up. He speed walks out of the locker room and leaves Hayden scrambling to keep up. They make it out to the parking lot, and Shane turns around and says, looking Hayden dead in the eye, “Don’t do that again.”

“Huh?” Hayden is so dumbfounded he can’t even come up with something to say in return. “Do what?”

“Whatever that was. Don’t do it again.”

“I was standing up for you, Shane. They can’t talk to you like that. You’re captain, you have to shut that kind of gossip down. People might—” Hayden lowers his voice. “People might actually think you’re gay, dude. It’s starting to get suspicious.”

Shane shakes his head, hand tightly gripping the strap of his gear bag. “I don’t need you, or anybody else, giving an impassioned defense of my sex life, my personal life. Just don’t, okay?”

“So you’re just going to let them call you gay? You want them to think that about you?”

“You sound like a homophobe,” Shane says flatly.

Hayden splutters. “For defending you?”

“I don’t need defending! I’m not gay, and I don’t need you to weigh in. Now it looks like I’m hiding something.”

You are, Hayden wants to say. You’ve gone from private to underground bunker with secret lovers. Worst, nobody, not even you, cares about your reputation, and you’re yelling at me for having your back.

“Oh, so. Boston Lily is just a friend?” Hayden can’t help but roll his eyes. Shane could make all this go away if he could just admit that he’s banging someone. The guys would tease him a little, push for details, but they’d give up after Shane told them in his calm, firm way that he’s not one to kiss and tell. Why are they even pretending, the two of them? Doesn’t Shane trust him?

Shane stares at him under the crappy parking lot lamps, skin sallow and eyes intense and unforgiving. “I told you it’s private,” Shane says sharply, which—last time they talked about it, Shane denied there was anything at all, and stuck to his walking story. Hayden has seen the name pop up on his phone too many times, and she always texts when they’re in Boston. Now at least Shane is admitting there is something. Someone.

“Dude, if you just tell them about Lily, they’ll lay off you.”

“I don’t have anything to tell them.”

“Then I’ll tell them, and get them off your—”

“No,” Shane snaps hotly, voice rising. Hayden huffs out a frustrated breath. Why is he being so stubborn? Hayden is trying to help him out here. “Fuck, I can’t do this right now. Go home. Speaking as your captain.”

“Oh, as my captain,” Hayden challenges. “And what about my friend? Is he ever going to tell me about anything that matters?”

“Are you serious?” Shane turns and opens the door of his stupid fucking Range Rover. Only Shane would get a car like that with all his big hockey money. “Go fuck yourself, Hayden. That’s what your friend has to say.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“I don’t want your fucking help.”

Shane slams the door and starts the engine. Exasperated and steaming out the ears, Hayden turns around and stalks to his own car. Go fucking figure. He sticks his neck out for the guy and this is what he gets—a self-righteous lecture and a fuck off. Christ, Shane makes him so mad sometimes.

“What’s wrong with a guy being private?” Jackie asks during one of their million conversations about Shane. Hayden swears they talk about Shane more than their own kids. Jade lost a tooth, Arthur can say his name, and oh, Shane again. “I know it’s a little unusual, but maybe he just really doesn’t feel comfortable talking about sex with other people. He’s not religious, is he?”

“Are we counting hockey as a religion? I’m starting to think he’d marry his own stick before he would have a relationship with a real human woman, other than that girl he meets up with in Boston. And something must be seriously fucked up about her, because there’s no reason for him to be so cagey about her.”

“Well, maybe that’s part of it,” Jackie cedes, pressing a fresh-baked cookie into Hayden’s hand. He takes a bite and practically moans as chocolate and caramel burst over his tongue. “Maybe he thinks you’ll judge him. Maybe his girl isn’t a supermodel or something, or she’s a little quirky. You’re always saying the other players can be sexist.”

“I mean, sure they’ll judge a bit if she’s ugly, but—”

“Try again.”

“They’ll judge a bit if she doesn’t fit the unrealistic standards of the western patriarchy. But like, it’s not like he has to show us her picture. It’s like he doesn’t even want to admit she exists.”

“It’s his business. Why do you need to know?”

“Babe, he knows everything about us. He knows how dilated you were before they gave you the epidural for Arthur.”

“Not really information I want your friends knowing, but look. Shane’s always been a bit of an odd duck. I know it, you know it. He’s a sweet guy. He’s nice, grounded, and responsible. He’s probably picked someone exactly like him and doesn’t want to risk putting her in the spotlight, right? Maybe she doesn’t want to be public either. Shane is cautious, he wouldn’t take any chances.”

“I hate that theory,” Hayden says miserably. “I just don’t get why it’s such a secret with me. I’m his best friend. I don’t even know how I’m his best friend, except that it’s a pretty short list of candidates.”

“Hayden, this is what we in the mom business call not a problem. Let him have his privacy, and be open for when he finally feels ready to tell you. He’s a closed book and he processes things differently. I’m sure in time, if it’s serious, he’ll tell you. And don’t chase him away. I like having him around and he’s a great babysitter.”

“Very selfish.”

“I’m just keeping an eye on all my options. And unfortunately, none of your other teammates could keep moss on a rock alive.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t trust me,” Hayden says sullenly. “He couldn’t be more involved in our lives, but I don’t know anything about this part of his life.”

“Hayden,” Jackie says firmly, “Shane is entitled to his privacy. Think about how little privacy he has—the media are up his ass, he’s captain of a prominent team, ambassador of a bunch of different brands. If he wants to keep his sex life private, let him.”

“Do you think he’s like, into some freaky sex stuff, and that’s why he doesn’t want to talk about it? What if Lily is like…I don’t know. A prostitute, or something? No, look, it makes sense. He can only meet up with her in Boston. That must be where she lives. But he never goes out of his way to visit Boston, and I don’t think she’s ever been here either.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you need mental help.”

“Is there a right way to take that?” Hayden slumps over the counter pathetically. Jackie pats his head sympathetically. “Fine. I’ll let it go.”

“You’re so brave,” she says with the tone she uses to console Arthur when he spills his juice.

“Jackie’s pregnant again.”

Hayden watches Shane’s face to see if anything registers. Like, maybe talking about his hyper-domestic life will encourage Shane to comment on his own love life, or at least give Hayden some clues on how he feels about the idea of settling down. Maybe he’ll be willing to give dating one of Jackie’s friends a try. It’s been, like, a year since Hayden’s bugged him about it, and Shane has been a little less…something. Less jumpy? Less tightly wound? Winning a Stanley Cup seems to have helped. God knows the Stanley Cup can do wonders for a guy.

“Again?” Shane says with a distinctly horrified look. Hayden almost facepalms right there. He’s got half an eye on the girls and Arthur cooing in the stroller, and he’s just hoping they make it through the day without an incident.

“Seriously? ‘Again?’ You’ve gotta work on your lying, man. At least pretend to be excited for me.”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry,” Shane hurriedly corrects him. “I am. Congrats, Hayd. That’s great news. Right? You guys are feeling positive about it?”

“Yes,” Hayden confirms, slightly mollified by Shane’s thoughtful consideration of whether or not they’re happy to be pregnant with a fourth kid. “We’re thrilled. Probably gonna be the last one, but who knows? Jackie’s bored, somehow. She’s bored with three kids, two of whom are probably going to grow up to be criminals. Go figure.”

“I don’t think you can say that about your kids. It could hurt their self esteem.”

“Hah. You don’t even know. They’ve reached that age where they lie for fun and say mean things when I try to discipline them. Last week I tried to put Ruby in time out and she told me I had the face of a gross Neanderthal.”

“Maybe she’s going to be an archaeologist.”

“She’s going to make me clinically insane. Anyway, if a fourth kid doesn’t entertain Jackie, who knows what will? I’m going to have to start researching new sex moves. Get her a houseplant. Pay for her to get a graduate degree or climb Mount Everest or something.”

“Fair enough,” Shane says, pausing to reach down into the stroller and catch Arthur’s water bottle before it falls out. Shane tucks it back into Arthur’s pudgy fingers with a smile. The guy certainly looks and acts like someone who likes kids, but at this rate, Shane will be eighty before he finds someone to carry his kid. “If you can persuade her to have a few more, you could have a tiny hockey team.”

“Too expensive to feed them. I can’t afford that much red meat.”

The corner of Shane’s mouth lifts up in amusement. Contrary to popular belief, Shane can be pretty funny sometimes. He’s just so quiet and subtle about it people miss it. But Hayden always finds himself entertained in Shane’s company somehow. The guy just has a good vibe about him.

The aquarium isn’t too busy for a Saturday. Hayden lets the twins run a little ahead of them with the stipulation that they stay in eyesight the whole time. Shane is perfectly engrossed in the jellyfish. The conversation has slipped away; Hayden tries to pull it back. “So? When are you going to join me in this nightmare?”

Shane grins. “Why, you wanna get me pregnant too?”

Hayden recoils. Some things just shouldn’t even be manifested between friends. Sure, Shane is hot in the right light, probably. Hayden isn’t a girl, but he’s also not blind. Still. Yikes. “Eugh. Please.”

“I don’t know, man, I’m not ready. I still have some good hockey years left in me.”

“Asshole,” Hayden snorts. “Sorry, Virgin Mary.”

“I’m not—”

“Whatever, I don’t need to know. You take things so literally. But you ever think about it? Settling down?”

Shane shrugs, pausing to smile at Arthur in Hayden’s arms and give him his fingers to put in his sticky mouth. It’s disgusting. “I don’t know, man. I mean, probably someday. I’m not in any rush.”

“You have one foot in the grave, man. Once your hair goes grey the girls are going to stop asking.”

“Yeah, I really don’t think that’s true.” Arthur reaches out for Shane, and Shane reaches out to take him without being asked. Hayden rolls his shoulders, cramped from carrying him through the aquarium. He’s getting so heavy, he’s like a sack of potatoes. Shane hefts Arthur onto his hip with a little hey, buddy under his breath. “But try to remember we’re suffering from overpopulation on earth, and you and Jackie have made a million kids, so there’s not much room for me to—”

“I have three! Or, well. Three and a half. That’s barely enough to stop population shrinkage. Seriously, man, I’m not trying to be pushy, I know you like your privacy, but I wanna see you happy with a wife and kids someday, preferably soon so your kids can be friends with my kids. When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“Not talking about this,” Shane deflects. “I don’t know. Maybe the picket fence suburban life isn’t for me.”

“What do you want, then? The hockey rink life? Come on, dude, I know you’re dedicated, but you’re such a family guy. You’re so tight with your parents. When you were younger, did you imagine yourself with kids someday?”

“Maybe,” Shane says. “Probably. ‘Someday’ being the operative word.”

“Right, so—hold up. Where’s Jade? Jade Pike! Get back here! Jesus Christ, she’s the worst one.”

“Also can’t say that, man.”

“It’s true. You’d get it if you were a dad.”

“You make fatherhood look so fun,” Shane says sarcastically. “You’re really selling me on it.”

“Jackie’s got this mommy yoga teacher friend,” Hayden says, ignoring the snark. Shane can be as prickly as he wants, but he looks so cute and charmed by Arthur that Hayden’s not buying it. Besides, what he said is true; Shane is the family guy. Responsible, loves his parents, spends his free time with them voluntarily. Hayden just needs to hook him. “She’s hot, she’s funny, she makes sex jokes. She would be great for you.”

“Why would she be great for me?”

“Hello? She’s hot and funny and makes sex jokes. If that’s not a man’s dream, I don’t know what is. At least let me show her to you. She’s a big hockey fan. Please? Jackie wants to have more couple friends.”

“Maybe you should become friends with other married people. Try the old age home on Bingo nights.”

“Ha, ha. It would make Jackie happy.”

“No offense, Hayd, but I think keeping your wife happy is your job.”

“Not if you want her to keep making your ridiculous bird food.” Shane gives him a long-suffering look. “At least let me show you her insta,” Hayden implores. “And then I’ll stop bugging you.”

Shane sighs. “Fine. You can show me.”

Shane gives all the minimum reactions Hayden would expect. A polite hm or nice and agreement that Daniella is hot, and a bunch of head nods whenever Hayden remembers some tidbit about her that Jackie told him at some point. But he doesn’t ask any questions about her, and when Hayden asks at the end if he wants her number, he shrugs it off.

“I’ll think about it,” Shane says, and turns his attention back to Arthur with a gooey smile.

Rose Landry comes as a surprise and a delight.

Hayden is so fucking pumped to finally see Shane with someone, and it’s Rose Landry of all people. Hayden tries desperately not to spook Shane, but he’s so excited to hear about the Rose Landry and now the talk in the locker room goes from condescending to congratulatory, impressed. Shane is hot shit, just like Hayden always knew he could be. No more Boston Lily, he supposes. It’s a little sad that Hayden never got to know the girl who kept Shane on such a tight leash, but it can’t have been a very good relationship.

Shane can’t hide Rose. She’s as famous as him, probably more. If they go somewhere, someone will recognize one of them and snap a pic, and it’s all over the internet within the hour. Shane gets clapped on the back and congratulated for his unbelievable catch. Suddenly, he’s the man in the locker room.

“You’ll let me meet her first, right? Jackie loves that movie she did last year. Man, tell me what she’s like! Does she like good food? We could double date at that nice Italian restaurant that just opened by the rink.”

“Hayden,” Shane says with a tinge of exasperation, “it’s been, like, a week. And everyone likes good food. Nobody likes bad food.”

“Well. I mean. You do.”

“Fine. Normal people. Just give it some time, okay? Her schedule is crazy anyway. She can’t just fly here for dinner.”

“Bro, you cannot be in a long-distance thing again,” Hayden groans. He can already see it. Rose is never in town, so he never gets to meet her, and Shane tells him nothing. It’ll be just like Lily except he’ll at least see them on the news. Fuck. It’s like Shane is intentionally choosing physically unavailable women. “If I hadn’t seen Rose Landry on TV, I would think she was imaginary.”

“Hayd, chill. You’ll meet her, okay? I don’t know about double dating, but the next time she’s going to be in town longer than a night I’ll try and set something up. She might come to one of my away games when we play Michigan.”

“Do I get to meet her then?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “We’ll see. But I don’t want the whole team on my ass about meeting her. She’s a real person who shouldn’t be gawked at.”

“Right,” Hayden says. “I just gotta say, I’m so glad for you, man. I was beginning to think JJ was right about you.”

Not really, honestly. He’s never legitimately considered a single thing JJ has said, least of all about Shane’s romantic pursuits, but Shane has been hangdogging after the mysterious Lily for so long Hayden was starting to go crazy.

“Right how?” Shane asks.

“You know, about the whole gay thing,” Hayden reminds him offhandedly. It’s been so long since they had that conversation in the locker room. Looking back on it, he just feels bad. Shane must have felt put on the spot and Hayden’s speech didn’t help. JJ seems to have forgotten about it—he’s never brought it up again, to Hayden’s knowledge. It’ll be a funny joke to tell Rose Landry over dinner. “Don’t worry though, I’ve always known you had it in you. How’d Lily take it?”

“What?” Shane seems to be having trouble weaving all the threads together. “She’s fine. I mean, I don’t really know. We weren’t together.”

“Riiiight,” Hayden acquiesces. He doesn’t want to have this argument again. It doesn’t even matter, because of Rose. They can totally move on. “Well, fuck her, whoever she was. She had you on a leash for so long. Good for you, pulling Rose. She’s super hot and cute.”

Rose doesn’t last long.

Shane manages selfishly to keep her from Hayden the entire two months they date. Hayden asks, pesters, nags. He risks losing Shane’s goodwill by bringing it up. Shane puts him off, then puts him off again, and again. For a while, it seems like Rose has a positive effect on Shane socially—suddenly he’s going out, walking around with a spring in his step, drinking during the season. Hayden tries to focus on that instead of the fact that Shane doesn’t really talk about Rose and never follows through on dinner. Hayden sees them pop up in the media, sees Shane looking perpetually discomfited no matter where they are, and forces himself to just be thankful that someone is getting Shane to act like the fucking superstar he is.

Then the pap shots stop. Shane stops mentioning her. He doesn’t seem upset, which only worries Hayden more, and then Shane lets him know that it’s over between them. No emotion. Actually, scratch that. Shane says they’re staying friends, and he seems happier than he was while dating her. How could anyone be happy after losing Rose Landry? Hayden wonders if Shane has finally gone insane, if Lily tortured him and his balls for so long that he’s developed some kind of complex about women.

Shane never planned dinner. Hayden tries not to be too sore about it, but it feels like confirmation that Shane doesn’t really trust him.

“I can’t believe you fumbled Rose Landry,” Hayden sighs as they work together on reassembling the crib in the nursery. They’re both sitting on the floor surrounded by tools and time-worn crib pieces. He’s trying not to let the bitterness seep into his tone, aiming for jovial instead. Just some light ribbing. “Major L, man.”

Shane blinks at him. Hayden raises an eyebrow expectantly. “Yeah,” he says, blank like Hayden is telling him to pass the Phillips head. “It’s cool. We’re friends.”

“Lamest shit ever,” Hayden says darkly. Whoops. There’s the bitterness. “You can’t be just friends with a girl like that. It’s insanity. That kind of girl has gay best friends and boyfriends. There’s no spot for a straight guy friend.”

Shane shrugs. “Maybe you can’t be friends with girls.”

Hayden rolls his eyes. Sure. And there’s another thing, too, that’s on his mind. People have started noticing the lack of public interactions between Rose and Shane. It hasn’t been so long since they broke up, and with both of them having crazy travel schedules it’s not impossible that they just haven’t had time to meet up in person, but rumors are kicking up online. Hayden went down a deep dive the other day, curious what outsiders have been able to put together. He’s almost certain Shane has no clue what the internet is saying.

Hayden sighs. “I gotta be real with you, dude. I’m worried. Once the guys get wind of your breakup, if they haven’t already, they’re just gonna start calling you gay behind your back again. People on Reddit are starting to write conspiracy threads trying to track down your lovers and prove you’re not gay. Now, look. I know that’s ridiculous, but…”

An immediate sharp look from Shane. He’s such a fucking golden boy, the paragon of virtue. “If it’s ridiculous, then why does it matter?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m just trying to look out for you. It’s not just that. You just broke up with an amazing girl and you’re pretending to be okay about it. I’m seriously worried you’re on the verge of some mental breakdown and this is the first sign.”

“I’m not pretending to be okay. I am okay. It was a mutual agreement.”

“Holy fuck, Shane, are you serious? She was your girlfriend. You’re not even a little sad about it being over? Was the sex that bad?”

“You know,” Shane says, voice taking on a note of resignation, “this really has nothing to do with you. People break up, Hayd. It’s not a big deal.”

Nothing to do with you.

“Not a big deal? Buddy, she’s the only girl you’ve dated since—well, I guess there’s…Lily, or whatever. What happened? You seemed so into her and so excited, but you’re not…you’re really not sad about it at all?”

“Not really. I like being her friend.”

“But you were perfect with her.”

“No,” Shane insists, which only annoys Hayden more. It’s like he wants Hayden to feel crazy. Shane puts down the manual and faces him properly. “We weren’t perfect. That’s why we broke up.”

“You said you would introduce us.”

“Okay, but. There wasn’t a good time. We were rarely in the same place at the same time.”

“You had months,” Hayden points out. “And you promised. Jackie and I were excited about it.”

“Well, she’s still my friend,” Shane says, brow furrowed in confusion. “Next time she’s in town—”

“But you always say that,” Hayden scoffs. “It’s fine, dude. Meeting her isn’t the point. Or, I mean, it is, but—I don’t just want to meet random friends—I mean, I do, but what I mean is…” Hayden scrubs both hands over his face in frustration. “I don’t know, man. I wanted to meet her because you were together. I was excited.”

“I didn’t know we were going to break up,” Shane says helplessly. “It’s not like I was trying to…not…you know.”

“Yeah,” Hayden says gruffly, and returns to the mess of crib on the floor. He finds what looks like the correct screw and lines it up with what he hopes is the right hole in what is maybe the right plank. “It’s fine. Have fun dying alone, by the way. Don’t invite me to the wedding.”

“Okay, even I can tell that you’re pissed off,” Shane says curtly, throwing a tiny wooden dowel at him. Hayden scowls at him. “Just say it. Don’t make me guess.”

“I’ve already said it. You said we could do a double date dinner, we didn’t. I want to hear about your girls, you won’t tell me. I worry you’re going to be alone forever. I couldn’t be any clearer.”

“We’ve talked about this before. I don’t need a relationship. I’m happy focusing on hockey. I told you I’d tell you if I had a serious relationship.”

“Yeah, but don’t you miss any of it? The love, the…sex?”

“Not really,” Shane says quietly. “None of that was…I don’t know. I just don’t miss it.”

“You’re like if a little kid designed a robot to be good at hockey. That’s the only thing you ever think about.”

Shane doesn’t reply and doesn’t pick the manual or any of the pieces back up. After a heavy pause, he looks down at his lap. “Wow,” he says. “Okay. Why are you so obsessed with me having a girlfriend?”

“I’m not obsessed—”

“Yeah, you kind of are.” Shane takes a deep breath, palms flat on his thighs. He looks like he’s two seconds away from bursting into tears or attacking Hayden like a dog on all fours. Hayden doesn’t expect—doesn’t know what to do with—the tremor in his voice when he continues. “Why can’t you just accept that I’m not like you? That I don’t want to share everything?”

“Because I just don’t understand! And you tell me nothing, Shane, fucking nothing. We’ve been friends for almost ten years. You could probably kill me and steal my identity, you know so much about me. And you never share with me and it feels like you don’t trust me, or you don’t want to be as close to me as I do, or—whatever, dude. You never even told me about Boston Lily, and that was going on for years. It just feels like—it feels like we’re on completely different planets sometimes.”

Shane starts picking his way to his feet, stumbling over tools and crib pieces. “Jesus Christ. I’m here helping you put together your baby’s nursery, Hayd, you think I don’t care about you? You’re so hung up on this one thing, it’s like you think everyone wants to live the way you do with your perfect wife and perfect kids. Not all of us get that life, Hayden. And I don’t owe you anything on who I’m with. And me and Rose breaking up, or not doing dinner, had nothing to do with you. It’s not about you. None of this has ever fucking been about you.” Shane is so riled up he could start steaming out the ears. Hayden blinks dumbly up at him from the floor, bewildered by the sudden burst of anger. Shane’s normal coping mechanism in high stress situations is to get very quiet and internal, and he’s pulling on his jacket and maybe getting ready to storm out. “And for the record, I’m not a robot. I have feelings. You hurt them.”

“Hey! You’re seriously going to walk out mid-conversation? What’s the deal?”

“You can finish building the crib on your own. It’s the third time, so I don’t know why you even need my help. I don’t even know why you invited me.”

“Because the fucking Ikea manual makes no sense! Shane, you’re overreacting.”

“No. You’re not listening to me. You never listen. Fucking leave me alone and stop projecting onto me. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

“Shane.”

Shane stomps out the door without another word to him. Hayden overhears him say a very polite goodbye to Jackie, and then the front door opens and shuts, and Hayden is left feeling like a fucking fool.

He needs to stop caring what Shane Hollander does. Not like Shane has ever shown him a lick of gratitude for it. Fine. If the guy doesn’t want Hayden’s help, doesn’t want Hayden to be involved in his life, Hayden will put it in reverse.

Jackie pops her head in the doorway. “So not even two of you could build it?” she asks pointedly. Hayden doesn’t know how she managed to do it for the twins. “Two big grown hockey players and all you managed to do was make Shane, the most calm and polite person I’ve ever met, storm out.”

“It’s not my fault,” Hayden says. “He’s fucking lost it. Or I’ve lost it. I’m not the crazy one here, I swear.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t hear what went down, but Shane seemed pretty upset.”

“Thank you, Nancy Drew,” Hayden says snappishly. Jackie purses her lips and raises her eyebrows at him in stark disapproval. Hayden sighs. “Sorry.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Later. I’m going to put this damn thing together if it kills me.”

Jackie nods and picks her way over to where he sits despondently on the floor. She sits down next to him, huffing quietly as she shifts her weight. She’s showing more and more every day, and Hayden loves her in a special way when she’s pregnant. She has this beautiful vibrancy even when she’s annoyed with him, and she’s just—so beautiful. Hayden would do anything for her.

“You know, Shane doesn’t have a lot of good friends,” she says. Hayden nods, trying to follow her train of thought to get to whatever point she’s building up to. “I think it’s hard for him to open up. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel close to you.”

“Mm.”

“You’re a good friend to him. I know you’re just trying to help him out and do what’s best for him. But he’s an adult. You’re not his dad.”

“Obviously.”

“I’m saying, maybe listen to what he’s trying to tell you.”

“Heard him loud and clear.”

“Baby, he’s not trying to hurt you,” she murmurs, touching his shoulder. “Maybe if he’s not ready to open up, he has a good reason.”

“Okay. You’re probably right. I just don’t understand what the big secret is. What does he think I’m gonna do?”

“I don’t think he knows how to tell you.”

“You don’t find it weird?”

“I find it weirder that you care this much about another grown man’s sex life. Should I be worried?”

“I swear I’d get you pregnant again if you weren’t already,” Hayden says with a sigh. Hayden hands her the manual for the crib. “Tell me if I’m going crazy or if this manual makes no sense.”

Jackie takes it and tucks it under her arm. “Take a lap, honey. She’s not coming for months. Maybe you can go put the clean laundry away instead, if that’s not too hard.”

“I can put laundry away,” he scoffs. She gets up with a grunt and gives his hair a quick ruffle, and he starts putting the crib pieces back in the box.

The distance between them yawns and grows. Hayden does his job in practice, in games, but the tension is affecting their teamwork. Theriault subs in other forwards where Hayden normally would play, and they suck, and the Voyageurs lose, and everything just. Sucks.

Shane sinks into the darkest workaholism of the century. He’s always at the rink, staying late to practice shots or map out new plays. Hayden leaves him to it instead of nagging him to go home and rest like he normally does. In the locker room, when Shane confirms he and Rose broke up, Hayden doesn’t say a word as they chirp him lightly and assure him he’ll find another girl soon. He doesn’t say a word when someone asks how Shane managed to fuck it up, and someone else says that Shane is the only captain in the league who has no game. Hayden doesn’t think Shane even cares about those things, but he should. He should care what his own team thinks of him, how other people see him. Why can’t he see when they’re making fun of him? Why doesn’t he stop them?

Hayden doesn’t care to go out drinking after a satisfying win against the Raiders on home turf. Shane seems electrified by the outcome, not exactly happy but charged with some other intense energy. They both bow out of going to the bar after, and Comeau calls them the Wet Blanket Twins.

“Say what you want, but my pregnant wife is at home waiting for me,” Hayden says with a shrug, purposely suppressing his twinge of irritation. Everyone knows Jackie’s pregnant. It’s not a mystery why he wants to spend more time with his family right now. “It’s time for me to go home and massage some ankles.”

“I’d massage more than ankles after a win like that. Is it true what they say? About pregnant chicks being really horny from the hormones?”

Hayden looks up from tying his shoe. “Find a woman who doesn’t mind her kids having your ugly face and find out,” he says, voice clipped.

“You really need a drink, brother. Too long at home with all those hormones and you become a little bitch.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Hayden stands up, fists clenched. He doesn’t care if they’re on the same team. He will fight anyone any day for talking shit about his wife. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Guys, break it up,” Shane interjects sternly. “Don’t get into a fight right after a win. Comeau, go cool off. Hayden, go home.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I do when your wife and kids need you at home and not in a jail cell,” Shane hisses. “Jackie doesn’t need that stress. Go home and be with your family.”

“Fine,” Hayden mutters, yanking his bag strap over his shoulder. “Not worth my time, anyway.”

All-Stars is a welcome break from the regular season. Hayden gets to stay home with Jackie and spend time with the kids while Shane is off playing on the same line as fucking Rozanov, and Hayden kind of hopes they fight, and Shane will come to appreciate Hayden’s good linemanship. He spends most of his off time helping out around the house and minding the kids so Jackie can rest, making sure everything is in order while he has the spare time. He gets updates from teammates past and present on how Shane and Rozanov are playing together. Apparently, they’re fucking amazing on the same team, smiling and laughing together, whatever. Hayden hopes Rozanov dies.

Shane texts him on the last day. Sorry I blew up at you. I want to tell you about it. I’m just not ready.

It’s so straightforward and honest. So very Shane. Hayden can’t hold it against him. He sends back a no problem, sorry I was in a bad mood. Ready to hear about it whenever you’re ready.

It kind of fixes things. But only kind of.

Jackie sends him an email one day. He’s at an away game, and she often sends him whatever articles she’s been reading (more often than not it’s about a grizzly-looking cat or dog taking in some goblin-looking babies). This time, she writes, take a look at this. remind you of someone? and attaches a link to an article titled Signs You May Be High-Functioning Autistic.

Hayden clicks on the link, brow furrowed. Adherence to routine, struggle with the unexpected, difficulty connecting to others, low self esteem, sensory issues, hyper-fixation on specific interests and difficulty engaging with other topics, blah blah blah.

Hayden: you think i’m autistic?

Jackie: 🤦🏼‍♀️the cte must be hitting early

Hayden: NOT funny

Hayden: i have had two ish concussions

Jackie: you’ve probably had more but forget that

Jackie: i was thinking about shane, stupid. it sounds like him. doesn’t it?

And, maybe? It kind of does, but Hayden isn’t in the business of diagnosing his friends.

But Shane’s always been a little...different. Hayden wouldn’t say odd, exactly; Shane sticks to his routines and habits more rigidly than other people, but hockey players can be superstitious about that kind of stuff. Pro athletes aren’t exactly known for being laidback and spontaneous. Shane likes a limited amount of foods with a limited tolerance for certain textures, but he’s also just weird about food and how it affects his playing. Like, more superstitious weird.

Socially? Shane really isn’t that bad at being social. He’s a little stiff, a little reserved, but is that so strange? He’s an only child and he’s team captain, top of his game, which justifies him being a little one-track-minded about hockey. Hayden figures it’s impossible to be on his level without being a little anal.

Although, honestly, Shane never really seems to enjoy the team outings as much as he should. He likes winning, but JJ is usually the one who persuades him to come celebrate with the rest of them. He doesn’t talk much about friends growing up, but he was an Asian kid in a very white sport, in a very white province in a fairly white country. It’s not a secret that he preferred being on the ice to playing with other kids at recess. Is he overly literal? Well, yeah. But he picks up sarcasm most of the time. If he didn’t, he couldn’t chirp or take a chirp. And Shane is more than capable of some very well-placed chirps.

Okay. It doesn’t not remind him of Shane.

Hayden: never thought about it

Jackie: i was just thinking. maybe he doesn’t want to talk about his relationships because it’s difficult and confusing for him. he might find it stressful and he might feel like he’s doing it wrong, and you got married so young it probably feels like you wouldn’t understand it

Hayden: oh my god

Hayden: jackie you’re a genius

Jackie: it’s a theory please don’t tell him he’s autistic or that i said this i am not a doctor and idk how it would feel to hear it

Jackie: how did you even get me involved in this. i don’t want to become magnum pi of shane hollanders sex life

Hayden: oh im never mentioning this to him. he would probably kill me. he’d make it look like an accident he’s smart

Jackie: i’ll know who to turn in to the detectives if you mysteriously die

Hayden: you’re so fucking hot. find something you want and send me the link DADDYS FEELING GENEROUS

Jackie: i told you to fucking stop calling yourself daddy. EW. only for the kids.

Hayden: 🙂‍↕️yep i forgot im sorry 💁🏼‍♂️🙇🏼‍♂️💃🏽🕺🏽

Hayden starts focusing after that. Notices how Shane reacts when practice starts half an hour late because everyone was late in the snow. Notices how Shane stares blankly when Hayden starts talking about something he knows Shane isn’t familiar with, like one of Jackie’s favorite reality shows or celebrity controversies. He pries as subtly as possible into Shane’s life, looking for more signs, wondering if Shane knows it about himself.

“You know how we call your diet bird food?” Hayden brings up one night when Jackie is putting Arthur down and they’re sitting on the couch together. Shane cocks his head. “Do you really like that stuff? Don’t you miss, like, being a kid and diving into a huge cheeseburger and fries?”

Shane’s frown grows more pronounced. “I don’t know. The nutritionist tells me to eat it, so I do. I don’t really think about liking it. It’s good for me, and it’s supposed to be good for my career, too.”

“But you did eat stuff as a kid, right, for fun? Did you have any favorites?”

“Huh?” Shane scratches the top of his head, comically off-guard. “Um, I mean, I ate what my mom cooked. I guess I was picky as a kid. She always says I would eat the rice and leave all the other parts of the meal alone. And tofu. She gave me tons of tofu.”

“Rice and tofu,” Hayden repeats. “My favorite when I was a kid was chicken nuggets. Or maybe lasagna. Or, like, hot dogs.”

“I couldn’t do lasagna. Maybe hot dogs without ketchup. I don’t know, I didn’t like a lot of things mixed together. I liked things separate, so my mom would leave off the sauce and give me plain pasta, or whatever. She never put sauce on my food unless I okayed it. I’m not that picky now, though.”

Oh, this is rich. Hayden feels like a detective. He’s cracking the case wide open.

“Was it, like, a texture thing?”

Shane chews on his lower lip for a moment, thinking. “It was kind of an everything thing. Strong tastes, weird textures—my mom made this walnut pasta where she ground up walnuts for the sauce, and it was gritty and I hated it. I just remember trying to wipe off as much of the sauce as I could from, like, every piece of pasta. Dinner took forever.”

Hayden snorts. “No kidding.”

“I used to eat my Froot Loops in rainbow order,” Shane adds. “It drove my mom crazy when we had to get to school in the morning. But, I don’t know. They’re colored for a reason. That’s why they’re different from Cheerios, you know?”

“Right,” Hayden says. Because that doesn’t sound insane at all.

“But it’s easier now just to follow my nutritionist’s instructions,” Shane adds. “It’s just one thing I don’t have to think about.”

The next time they get to talking, Shane tells Hayden he used to try and get out of going to other kids’ birthday parties if he’d never been to their house before. And that he once (maybe a few times) had a breakdown over a kid cheating at two-square and the teacher letting him getting away with it, because he broke the rules and it didn’t matter to anyone else, and that was too much for little Shane to comprehend.

“Sounds like a tough childhood,” Jackie remarks that night as they settle into bed. “Poor Shane.”

“I think everything and everyone has stressed him out forever,” Hayden says bleakly, staring at the ceiling. “He seemed completely confused when I told him that I don’t practice conversations ahead of time. He practices his chirps in the mirror. Or he used to. I mean, I knew he was a little kooky, but this is, like, clinical levels of different.”

“He reminds me a bit of Jason,” Jackie muses. Right. Her older brother. They are kind of similar. “His teachers thought he should get tested, but he did well in school and didn’t seem bothered by the social stuff, so they didn’t do it. Back then I think it was more of a scary thing than a relief. My friends with kids say it’s different now, that the criteria are a lot more flexible and even adults can get diagnosed.”

“He said that he’s never really been sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands in pictures.”

“Tell him jazz hands is always an option.”

“Jackie,” Hayden says solemnly, “how do I gently tell my friend to get an autism evaluation?”

“You don’t,” she says shortly. “You leave him alone. We don’t know how he feels.”

“But—”

Jackie rolls over and kisses his cheek. “This is one of those things where you just trust me. Okay? You might be accepting. To him, it might be scary or upsetting or even hurtful. Just leave it.”

“I guess.” Hayden scrunches up his face in the dark. A pang shoots through his chest. “I think I feel a little sad for him. Not, like, look at that poor disabled kid, but more like—everything seems harder for him. Like he thinks about everything. I usually do and then think.”

“Well, you have ADHD. You’re a different kind of neurodivergent. Luckily, you can take an adderall and call it a day. Shane can’t. He just has to live through it every day.”

“You’re so smart and cool.”

“I finished college. It helps.”

Hayden reaches out and blindly swats at Jackie, who dissolves into giggles. “You’re never going to stop bringing that up. I’ll finish someday! After hockey.”

“Ruby and Jade will finish college before you. It’s fine, baby, you have other assets. Financial assets. Those are better than a bachelor’s degree in communications.”

“As long as you appreciate me for something.”

“I appreciate you for being a kind person,” Jackie says sincerely. Hayden smiles to himself, glad she can’t see. “You care about Shane so much. He needs that.”

“Oi! What’s with the lack of pride, boys?”

“I’m not gay,” about four guys say from various places in the locker room. Hayden has five rolls of stick tape in one hand and his stick in the other, equipment bag slung over his shoulder.

“Neither am I, and I’m taping up. It’s for the fans, not for you.”

“Okay, dude,” Drapeau says with a snotty eye roll. “It’s optional for a reason. We’re allowed to skip.”

“It’s optional because Utah exists and Russia will literally throw their players in the gulag for participating,” Mitty reminds him. “It’s not supposed to be for stupid assholes who live in a cave and go ooga booga.”

“What Mitty said,” Hayden adds. “Look, we have gay fans. It’s good for the league, it’s good for the bottom line, it’s good for the audience. Who doesn’t want to hear the Village Boys when they score tonight?”

“Oh, is that the scoring song?”

“The YMCA. Where the boys can be boys. As opposed to the hockey rink, where boys can be boys, but they have to do it on ice skates.”

“I’m doing it,” JJ announces apropos of nothing, showing off his clumsily taped stick and swiveling it from left to right to display both sides. It’s not quite a rainbow, but it’s close. “Gay guys have the most fun. If you have never gone to a gay party you have not lived.”

“Look, guys, please just tape up? Shane, you’re in on this, right?”

Hayden expects Shane to agree immediately, because that’s what friends do. Shane hesitates instead.

What the fuck?

“Yeah, give it here,” Shane says gruffly, holding a hand out. “I’ll do it.”

“You did it last year,” Hayden reminds him nervously, as if that has any bearing on Shane’s choice this year. He hesitated. Why did he hesitate? “Can’t do worse this year. Only forward.”

“Yeah, no, I agree. It’s important. For, uh, the fans.”

Hayden clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “See, guys? We’re all confident guys who are secure in our masculinity. In fact, I think anyone who doesn’t tape up is probably hiding their latent homosexuality. Look at JJ. He’s ready to get down with our gay brothers and sisters. And this man is straight as hell.”

“JJ pulls the hottest chicks,” Comeau chimes in. “No debate there. Can’t say the same for you, Pike.”

“I’m fucking married.”

“And so easy to annoy.”

“It’s because I love and respect my wife. You should try it sometime, cumstain.”

“Still not doing it,” Drapeau says. He does this every fucking year. “I’m here to play hockey, not play into some political bullshit. I’m not into all this fake shit to make people feel better about themselves.”

“Well, if you want to be known as an human turd, I’m not gonna sit in press and tell them it’s about freedom of speech, I’m gonna sit there and tell them you’re a human turd. Nobody cares, mate. A little tape won’t kill you.”

“I don’t care what other people are doing, but do you really think most of the guys who promote this gay stuff every year actually care?” Drapeau scoffs. “Most of them would probably fuck up a real gay guy if he was peeking in the locker room. At least I have the balls to be honest. I don’t have a problem if gay people don’t like hockey. I don’t know why we’re pandering to them.”

“We get it, you’re a homophobe,” Mitty says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to give a speech about it.”

“Then why is Pike pressuring me about it?”

“Hey. Listen up,” Shane says, voice lifting over the chatter. The few players who weren’t paying attention to the drama playing out on their side of the locker room immediately swivel their heads toward Shane to listen. “Drapeau is right. Participating in Pride Night is optional. But those of you who are willing to wear your jerseys and tape up for the night, it’s going to matter to some fan out there. It’s a small thing to do that goes a long way. And if you don’t agree with it, it would be a good night to keep quiet. Just for one night, let’s not detract from what Pride Night is supposed to be all about. I really don’t want to wake up to news articles tomorrow about who in the Montreal Voyageurs is a homophobe. Don’t do that to the team. Got it?”

“Got it,” a handful of players parrot back along with some other indistinct acknowledgments.

“Get rainbow tape from Hayden if you haven’t already. Then I don’t want you all focused on arguing, I want you focused on the game. We still have to work together at the end of the night.”

Hayden’s nerves settle. Whatever that hesitation was, it must have been about something else. Of course Shane isn’t a homophobe. It’s Shane, the most even-keel and fair person on earth.

“Good speech,” he says, clapping Shane’s shoulder. “Let’s kill it tonight.”

Shane makes an exasperated noise, like an over-wrought kindergarten teacher. He’s never been much of an authoritarian to the team; he leads by example and they follow because he has the results to back it up, but these kinds of showy speeches are outside of his comfort zone. He looks tense. “Don’t worry. Edmonton could skate blindfolded and they’d have a better chance of scoring.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. It’s going to be Shame Night for them.”

“You’re really terrible,” Shane says fondly, patting his shoulder. “Tape?”

“Oop, yep. Here you go.” Hayden pushed the rolls into Shane’s waiting hand. “Let’s send them home with their will to live crushed.”

“He was on the verge of banning pride stuff altogether,” Shane says in a low voice as they sit on the bench together. Shane’s already played a shift, Hayden still waiting to be thrown in. Hayden’s stomach turns uneasily. He glances surreptitiously over at Coach Theriault, who is watching the game play out with steely blue eyes.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I was in his office before the game. He was talking about how it was an affront to people with traditional values. Says it’s being shoved down everyone’s throat all the time and hockey isn’t about PC bullshit, or whatever.” Shane rests his chin on the hook of his stick. “I didn’t know what to say. I just…I choked, I think. I asked if he was going to X it completely, and he just said he didn’t feel like dealing with it, so he’d let it go. But he clearly thought we were on the same page.”

“You aren’t, right? Like…you didn’t seem pumped about it, honestly.”

“Because he’s shitty about it every year and I have to hear the speech every time,” Shane says exasperatedly. “Hang on, you think I’m a homophobe?”

“No, I was just…I was freaked out. How do you feel?”

Shane sighs. His eyes are tracking the players zigzagging across the eyes with that insane focus of his. Hayden is probably getting ten percent of his attention at best. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated about it? It’s about supporting people.”

Shane closes his eyes for a moment, almost like it’s the only way he can stop himself from rolling his eyes. Then his gaze fixes on the ice again with an ice-cold focus. “It’s just complicated. I’m already a minority, I already have to act like the representative of every Asian-Canadian kid. I didn’t choose hockey so I could do some big political campaign. I don’t want to be anyone’s spokesperson.”

“I’m surprised you feel that way,” Hayden splutters after a shocked pause.

“No, I mean—” Shane grunts quietly as if he’s struggling to articulate himself, stumbling over his words. “I believe in this. I do. I wish hockey was a…a nicer world to be in. But, come on. We both know Drapeau is right.”

“Sorry, what?”

“There’s not a single player in the MLH who is openly gay,” Shane says under his breath. Hayden feels fucking stupid. Oh. Fuck. Right. Suddenly the tape on his stick seems a little too bright and farcical. “You and I both know this league doesn’t actually support shit.”

“Isn’t that what makes this important? Normalization and all that?”

Shane shrugs. “I guess,” he says, and sticks one end of his mouthguard between his back teeth and starts chewing with that mulishly stubborn expression he gets when he’s determined to win. Hayden tries to look engaged in the game, but it doesn’t escape him after the game, that Theriault tells Shane to keep it apolitical in the press conference. Like he knows Shane sees through his bullshit and is going to open his mouth. Shane isn’t stupid, and he’s been doing the post-game pressers for long enough to handle them without babysitting.

Hayden checks Twitter that night to catch the replay. He didn’t see Shane after press before they went home, didn’t get to ask about it. He watches all the little clips of Shane giving canned answers. We want to thank our dedicated fans from the LGBTQ community for coming out tonight. Uh, no pun intended. Absolutely, there’s a place for them, there’s a place for everyone. I think our defense was really working well together today, but of course the scorers clinched it—we’ve definitely noticed Edmonton working hard and stepping it up. Uh, I don’t really know about that, but we’ll see about—no, I don’t know, we’ll have to see.

Nobody is picking apart Shane’s answers. They sit perfectly in that cavern of nothingness. Players from other teams who did Pride Night tonight are getting more flak, mostly because the guys they send to press have beans for brains and are much less soft-spoken than Shane, who gives his answers in French and English with a placid little smile. Of course, as always, the players who stuck to their ordinary uniforms got ripped a new one by the most progressive wing of fans, but that’s not new. Every year the same discourse over the Russian players and their myriad of reasons not to participate gets raked out of the ashes all over again.

Hayden can’t help it. He thinks Shane should have done more. If he’d been the captain, or even assistant, he’d have at least stood his ground in press. It pisses him off that Drapeau and the others get away with being assholes and saying stupid shit in the locker room, but he understands why Shane doesn’t want to directly confront them over it. It can be a bad look as a leader to single people out, especially if the whole team isn’t in agreement on what’s right. Shane is minorly responsible for correcting their conduct, but if the coach doesn’t do it, Shane can’t guarantee they’ll have his back higher up the chain.

But Shane is who he is. Levelheaded, sincere, reliable. He’s not the kind to get up on the bench and yell at the team about justice and fairness; he leads by example. He’s not the kind to take over the press conference and pontificate about morality for kudos on Twitter. Hayden knows he sees the press junket and the brand deals and All-Stars appearances as the unpleasant prerequisite of being Shane Hollander, star captain, Voyageur, Canada’s pride. He goes in, does the job, and gets out.

Hayden wonders why Shane is so tense about it, though. And why Shane doesn’t answer his text asking what Theriault said that Shane wouldn’t repeat on the bench.

Things happen very quickly, it seems. Rozanov’s father dies, which most of them only find out after he’s already back stateside. Hayden feels bad for the guy inasmuch as he feels bad any time someone loses a parent, but nobody would know he was grieving based on the way he comes back to their first match with a glint in his eye and a demeanor about him like he’s already put it behind him. Maybe he has, the sick psychopath. Only Rozanov could lose his dad, take two days off, and then show back up better and badder than ever. Shane is kind enough to give his condolences, only for Rozanov apparently to chew him out. The guy just never seems to develop any redeeming qualities.

But in that same game, for the first time in his career, Shane gets knocked out cold by a clean hit he didn’t see coming, and lies motionless in the neutral zone for too long. Hayden wastes no time throwing his gloves off and going straight for Cliff Marlow, the assailant who apparently wants to murder his best friend. Marlow puts up a pretty good fight, but the ref breaks it up when other guys start to get involved and things get uglier than they already were, and that’s when Hayden notices Rozanov just kind of staring at the medics while officials order him to go back to his bench.

Later on Twitter, someone manages to grab a clip and transcribe it. Is he okay? Fucking tell me.

Maybe his dad’s death shook something loose, after all.

That’s the end of their bid for playoffs. Shane isn’t the whole team, but he’s a huge part of it, and they just can’t gel after he’s put on leave. No Stanley Cup, after two straight years of winning it. It tastes pretty bitter, but it is what it is. At least he gets extra time with Jackie before the baby arrives, which he always feels bad about being away for. She’s so pregnant by now she can’t clean the house or cook very well, and the girls are little hellions, and Arthur wants constant attention, the poor kid. He’s going to grow up a classic middle child if they don’t intervene now.

Then something crazy happens. The Admirals win the cup. Crazy that New York won, because it’s fucking New York, and they’ve sucked since forever despite Scott Hunter’s best efforts. But also crazy because Scott Hunter—

Scott Hunter, noted bachelor since fucking forever last time Hayden checked, is standing on the ice looking alone and lost and then he gestures for someone to come down, and the man who wobbles onto the ice in sneakers after him is nobody, but he’s clearly somebody to Scott Hunter.

Scott kisses him. Right there on center ice. Hayden almost throws his popcorn bowl. After a moment of complete and utter shock, he and Jackie both turn to each other and yell, “YES!” at the sheer incredulity of the moment. Gay rights. Hayden can get behind that.

Scott Hunter is gay. Hayden had no fucking clue, but the guy looks so fucking happy kissing his—boyfriend, husband, whoever that is—and Hayden sees how the world melts away, how all Scott can see is this person, and how happy and relieved he must feel to finally have someone. Everyone knows about his parents, and Scott’s logged the hours—he’s fought tooth and nail for his place in the league, and it feels right that he has someone to call family.

Hayden really loves those stupid short biopics on ESPN, okay? And mad respect to Hunter, who is a stand-up guy in all dimensions.

Shane is weirdly mum about it at a time when every hockey player Hayden knows, professional or amateur, former or current, is blowing up his phone to talk about it. Hayden tries not think about Shane’s silence. He doesn’t like that his best friend seems so touchy about gay rights, but he also doesn’t really think Shane is against them either. He’s just not sure where Shane’s head is at and why. Hayden isn’t exactly a gender studies scholar, but he has a pretty strong sense of justice and fairness, and if Scott Hunter wants to have a boyfriend, well, Hayden is going to back him up at every turn when the season starts again. But he’s too wrapped up in Jackie and the pregnancy and the kids to think about it, honestly.

And so Amber is born that summer. Hayden falls in love with her the moment he sees her in the doctor’s gloved hands, covered in all kinds of gross fluids and scrunching up her face in preparation for her very first cry. Hayden is just so fucking glad he gets to be here this time. It’s something special, to be able to witness his incredible wife deliver their incredible little one, the new baby of the family. Probably the last. Hayden is leaning more and more toward a vasectomy. But for now he just gets to revel in her birth. He calls Shane a week or two after. Shane is squirreled away in his cottage in Ottawa. Hayden is so excited to chatter about Amber that he doesn’t hear much of what Shane says in return, just clocks that Shane seems preoccupied and a little breathless.

It’s magical, getting to spend so much time with Amber and the family. Watching her hit those very first milestones—first bath, first smile, first—well, in fairness, there aren’t a lot of things happening. It all seems very important, but newborns don’t get up to very much other than the basics. Eat, sleep, poop, repeat. But it’s all a blessing.

Eventually, the season comes back around.

The first thing Hayden notices is that Shane is…different. It’s not just the tan from spending free time on the lake doing yoga or whatever he does. It’s something that seems to radiate through him. An extra spark, a clarity, like he’s had some sort of life change. He hasn’t mentioned anything significant, but Hayden’s been too busy with Amber to text Shane.

“What’s up with you? You’re glowing,” Hayden asks him one weekend when they’re strolling downtown with coffee cups in hand. Not that Shane is drinking coffee, of course. Just lemon water in a plastic cup and a straw stuffed in the sipping hole. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Shane laughs, making a face. “Nothing’s up. I just had a good summer.”

“Nah, come on. You are positively vibrant. New skincare? New property investment? New protein powder? Tell me your secret.”

“Really, man. Just a great summer. Best summer of my whole life.”

“What was so great about this summer?”

“It was just…I just relaxed and really, uh, figured some things out for myself. Nature heals, or whatever. Spent time with family, enjoyed the lake, that kind of thing.”

“I’ve just never seen you this…upbeat. You’re always one brow furrow away from having a nuclear meltdown.” Hayden bites his lip and lets a nagging thought take a seat at the front of his mind. “Don’t get mad, but, uh…did you meet someone new? You have that…look people get. You know what, you don’t have to tell me. If that’s what it is, I’m happy for you. Happy for you either way. It’s good. You should be happy.”

“I didn’t meet anyone,” Shane says, and Hayden will admit his heart sinks a little in disappointment. But only a little. “I feel like I met myself.”

“Phew. That’s deep.”

“Things have always been complicated for me,” Shane adds. “Hockey is great, but…it’s an escape. You can’t think when your lungs are burning and your muscles hurt and you’re barreling toward the puck.”

“True. So then…you were able to…” Hayden gestures vaguely. “Slow down?”

“Yeah.” Shane shrugs sheepishly. “Slowed down, stayed present, the whole shebang. Back to real life now. What about you? All that time with the new baby, you looking forward to a quiet hotel room again?”

“Honestly, no,” Hayden admits. “I loved being home with Amber. I always felt bad I couldn’t be around more with the first three, and that Jackie had to do all the work by herself. She’s awesome, but being there this time was so incredible. I didn’t even mind getting up in the middle of the night. It had me thinking of retirement for a hot second.”

“Whoa. Seriously?”

Hayden shrugs. “Not yet, but maybe sooner than I thought. You ever think about the demands of this job? Like, you can’t take a vacation whenever you want, you can’t have time with your family, you can’t just step away and come back. I love hockey, but I love my family, too. Ruby and Jade are so big now, and I don’t want to miss anything. I don’t know. It’s like a train that only runs once and if you step off, it’ll be gone. You think about that at all?”

Shane doesn’t answer right away. He sips his lemon water and purses his lips this way and that, and spends a good minute chewing on the straw. Hayden watches him for so long, waiting, that he almost walks into a pedestrian. He swerves at the last minute and gets a dirty look, and hopes she’s not a Voyageurs fan. Or if she is, that she hates social media and is too busy to post about it.

“I do,” Shane says. It’s a complete surprise. Hayden is so used to Shane brushing off any kind of question about intimacy, planning for the future, that he can’t help but think something must have changed this summer. Hayden is immediately on the back foot trying not to scare him off. He nods as calmly as he can, encouraging Shane to continue. “But I also don’t know what my life would look like without hockey.”

“Me neither,” Hayden muses. “My mom says I could skate before I could walk.”

“That can’t be true. You have to be able to walk to be able to skate.”

Ever the literal listener. Bless his unconfirmed autistic ass. “No,” Hayden agrees. Now that he’s pretty confident Shane’s literalness is involuntary and not for the purpose of being pedantic or annoying, he doesn’t comment on it anymore. “But it’s been my whole life.”

“Not exactly your whole life, though,” Shane interjects with a small frown. “You’ve had Jackie and the kids almost your whole pro career. You already have a life outside of hockey.”

Hayden makes a noncommittal noise. “Right, I mean. But do you want that? Someday, when hockey is over?”

“Wife and kids?” Shane asks. Hayden nods. His face shutters. “I don’t know what I want after hockey.”

That’s all Hayden gets out of him.

Sometime in the fall, things get ugly.

It’s on accident. All of it is just one accident after another. They’re in LA celebrating JJ’s 30th, and JJ’s style of fun is the kind of heavy partying Shane doesn’t do and Hayden doesn’t do anymore. It usually involves a lot of alcohol, a lot of women, and sometimes some drugs. Hayden never gets too trashed because Jackie would kill him if anything happened, and he’d kill himself if his kids saw a news piece about their dad doing drugs on TV. And, like, it’s just not that fun anymore for some reason. Women who aren’t Jackie aren’t on the table, and he feels weird being in places where the sex is less of an undertone and more of a statement piece. They agreed to go out to dinner for JJ, but now JJ’s taken them on a side quest to a club.

Not just a club. A strip club.

Hayden is a little drunk, okay. He doesn’t clock it until they’re through the front door, and there are naked women on poles, and then it hits him that this is a really stupid idea.

Not just because it would look sleazy if the media managed to grab a shot of Montreal’s finest patronizing a strip club. It’s also a bad idea for other reasons. Like the fact that this is the kind of place where people casually do lines of coke in the bathroom, and it’s already late, and if anyone crosses a line with a stripper, that news lede would hit the team like a freight train.

Shane looks…uncomfortable.

A few of them cling to the bar at first, nursing light drinks. Shane is clutching a can of Sprite; they didn’t have ginger ale. JJ and half the team are already engaging in the festivities, so to speak, and Shane looks like he’s afraid to even glance at a stripper.

Hayden wonders if Shane is a virgin. That can’t be, right? Shit, has Shane ever even confirmed having a sexual encounter? Do autistic people like strippers?

“You good?” Hayden says, trying to be discreet but struggling under the loud music to still be heard.

“Yeah, um,” Shane says, sipping his soda and shaking his head. “I actually didn’t realize this was a strip club.”

“Me neither, I’m drunk,” Hayden grumbles. “This is a disaster. I’m gonna step out and call Jackie real quick. Say some Hail Marys so she doesn’t kill me when I get home.”

“Okay,” Shane says dismally. “Can I come with you?”

“Just stay, dude. Better inside than out if someone sees you. Just sit at the bar and face the wall.”

Shane does as he’s told, and Hayden slips out one of the side doors. Some guy is puking in the alley by the dumpster. Hayden finds a more secluded place against the wall to plaster himself and dials Jackie, half hoping she’s awake and half worried he’ll wake her up. She deserves the rest, having all the kids for two days with Amber demanding breastfeeding at odd hours.

Jackie picks up. “What’s wrong?” she says immediately.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Hayden breathes a sigh of relief. He misses Jackie. Ever since Amber was born and he got to be at home all the time, he just loves her more than ever. “Sorry, I know it’s late. Did I wake you?”

“No, no, Amber’s feeding. She won’t sleep. What’s going on?”

Hayden kicks one leg up against the wall and shuts his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m drunk. JJ took us to a strip club.”

“A strip club?” Hayden can practically hear the eyebrow raise in her tone. “I’m sorry. Did I hear that wrong?”

“I didn’t know it was a strip club or I would have gone home. Sorry.”

“You’re sorry you’re at a strip club?”

“Yeah. I feel weird seeing a bunch of naked women who aren’t you. You’re the only naked lady I want to see.”

“Hayden—”

“Shane can vouch for me,” he groans. “I haven’t even looked at anyone. I swear. I have eyes only for you.”

“That’s very sweet of you. Are you calling for my permission to do something? Because you don’t have it.”

“No. Nope. Just telling you. It’s weird. I want to go to the hotel and sleep, but…” Hayden glances toward the door that he exited from. “Shane looks like he wants to turn inside out. I don’t want to leave him.”

“I think going back to the hotel is a smart idea,” she says dryly, and Hayden takes that as an order. “And definitely take Shane. I should pay him to babysit you.”

“Honestly, I just wish I was home with you guys.” Hayden starts feeling a little misty-eyed, thinking about his family so far away. “I can’t even remember the last time I enjoyed being at a strip club. Is this a cry for help?”

“I think you’re just getting older, honey. And smart enough not to piss me off.”

“Ugh. I used to think strip clubs were amazing. Now I want to be with my wife and kids in boring suburbia.”

“Oh, I’m sorry you’re not having a good time at the strip club. Can you hear the tiny violin I’m playing?”

“Probably better than being up with Amber all night, huh?” Hayden winces and scrubs his hand over his face. “Seriously, I’m going back to the hotel ASAP. You can get the full report from Shane later. I promise. No funny business.”

“Okay. No funny business,” she agrees. Hearing her echo it back puts him at ease. “Are you outside? I don’t hear any music.”

“Yeah, I’m in the alleyway. Can you send me a picture of Amber, before you go to bed? I miss her so much. I miss you.”

“Sure, I can do that. You should go back inside and find Shane. Strip clubs don’t seem like his thing.”

“Yeah. Well. Yeah. Or maybe it’ll awaken something in him. Nope, wait. Probably not. Never mind, I should grab him and see if we can sneak out early.”

“Yes, obviously you should do that. And I’ll be checking with Shane when you’re back home.”

“I love you,” Hayden says right as the call cuts out. He eyes the side door warily, unenthused about going back in, and knowing that Shane will be miserable if Hayden abandons him with all these gyrating women. Then he tries the handle, praying he won’t have to walk back around to the front of the club and risk being seen walking in for a second time, and serendipitously finds it unlocked. Whew. Maybe the universe is looking out for him after all.

When he slips back inside, though, he scans the room for Shane, and realizes JJ and Comeau have seized upon Hayden’s absence to drag Shane over to one of the chairs for a lap dance. At least, that’s what Hayden thinks they’re trying to do. Shane keeps trying to get out of the chair, and they keep trying to encourage him back down, and there’s a stripper waiting patiently off to the side with an amused smile. Shane’s face is strained with forced good humor and simultaneous displeasure. He looks nervous, like a trapped animal. Hayden hurries to intervene.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Hayden yells, putting himself between Shane and their teammates and trying to create space for him to be able to stand up and squirm out of reach. “Okay. Very funny prank. Shane, why don’t we—”

“Oh my god, you fucking downers,” Comeau exclaims as Shane scuttles in the opposite direction. He’s trashed, which is why he’s yelling pretty much right into Hayden’s face. “It’s time for Cap to get his panties untwisted and let a hot chick grind on him.”

“Maybe it’ll get him to loosen the fuck up and stop PMS-ing,” Drapeau mutters. “Don’t ruin the fun, man.”

“Guys, just leave him alone. Shane isn’t into this kind of thing.”

“Pike, every man is into this kind of thing,” Comeau says with a roll of his eyes, clapping Hayden on the shoulder. “It’s a strip club. A lap dance can be life-changing. Hollzy will love it. Why are you always babying him?”

“Babying him?” Hayden almost laughs. “Dude, you can’t just take him hostage and make him get a lap dance. What the fuck even is this shit you guys do, this whole boys’ club thing? We’re not a college frat.”

“Maybe some of us actually like having fun. Grow a pair, Pike, Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, seriously? Go fuck yourselves. It’s the only way you get any action, shithead. JJ, what is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” JJ frowns, pupils blown. “I was just trying to—Shane should have fun. He looked—he looked like—”

“Are you stupid?” Hayden grits out. “You’re always encouraging them. Be his actual friend, JJ, for real. Whatever. Happy Birthday, man, I think I’ve had enough. Shane, come on.”

Shane follows Hayden out like a little kid trailing after his mother after a spat in the principal’s office. Hayden breathes a sigh of relief when they spill out into the alleyway and Hayden starts leading Shane down the street somewhere. The brisk air helps clear his head and calm him down.

“Where are we going?” Shane asks quietly.

“I don’t know. Anywhere that isn’t a strip club so when the Uber shows up we don’t look like we were at a strip club.”

“Thanks,” Shane says somberly. “I couldn’t take it in there anymore.”

“I can’t even remember why I thought strip clubs were fun,” Hayden says mournfully. “It’s been a long time. I’m getting old. I don’t like fun anymore. I just like being at home while Arthur watches Sesame Street. You know it’s actually a really good show? I like Sesame Street a lot. Why did my mom let me watch Teletubbies? That show is stupid. No wonder I’m stupid. I can’t do that to my kids.”

“I know. Not the Teletubbies part. You know. Thank you for—thanks.”

“For saving you from a lap dance?”

“Yeah. But also—” Shane gives him a sorry half-smile. “For always looking out for me.”

It makes Hayden feel like melting into a little puddle. It reminds him why he’s been looking out for Shane for all these years.

“Of course,” Hayden says. “That’s what friends do.”

Late that same night, when the city is sleeping and Hayden is trying to do the same, Shane gets out of bed and quietly lets himself onto the balcony. Hayden turns over in bed and pulls the covers over his head to block out the night lights. They’re not what’s really keeping him up. It’s Shane, alone on the balcony, at a terrible hour of night.

Hayden tosses and turns and then ultimately gets out of bed too. When he cracks open the sliding glass door, Shane’s head turns toward him. Shane is sitting on one of the wicket chairs in his black hoodie, huddled up with his knees pulled to his chest. His eyes track Hayden as Hayden fumbles around to the other chair.

Something like ten years of sharing hotel rooms, now. They spent their youth together in hotels across Canada and the US. Through it all, they’ve been constant.

“I need to tell you something,” Shane says. Hayden looks at him and waits. Shane’s eyes are a little droopy from fatigue. He looks a little cold, even with his jacket on. And he looks familiar, brushing the tassel of his hoodie string over his lower lip. “I’ve been meaning to for a while.”

“Okay,” Hayden says cautiously. His mind scrolls through all the possibilities he ever considered, all the things Shane wouldn’t have told him. Maybe there’s some secret key to understanding him that unlocks the whole mystery. “Tell me what?”

“The thing is,” Shane says quietly, looking over the balcony railing and never at Hayden, “I always knew I was different on some level, even when I was a kid. And I also figured out that—that I couldn’t be, if I wanted to survive anywhere, but especially in hockey. But I tried not to think about it for a long time. The…the ‘different’ thing. I wanted to tell you, for a while now, but I couldn’t.”

Hayden is excited to be able to crow that he figured it out all by himself. Did Shane get tested? Did he get diagnosed as a kid and never told anyone? Maybe this summer he got diagnosed and that’s what transformed him. He’s been reading about adults getting diagnosed and how positive it is for some of them. Life-changing, even.

“I think I know,” Hayden says cautiously. “Or at least I have an idea. I mean, how long have I known you? You think I haven’t noticed?”

Shane does look at him then, eyes wide, a little startled. Hayden gives him an uneasy smile, trying to set him at ease. Of course he’d be nervous to tell Hayden, because of the stigma, but Hayden is the last person to judge that kind of thing. Hello? ADHD diagnosis.

“I guess I thought I had it under wraps.”

“Yeah, buddy, I don’t know about that,” Hayden mumbles. Shane blinks quickly and turns back to the view, eyes cast down at the neon signs of the building in front of their hotel. Hayden can practically see him vibrating with anxiety. “Hey. Shane. You can tell me literally anything. Okay? It’s ride or die at this point. I—I love you, man. In a platonic way, obviously. I love Jackie. You’re like our weird fifth kid. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

“What I wanted to tell you,” Shane says after a heavy pause, “is—and I didn’t really know for sure, honestly. Everyone seems to figure it out when they’re a kid, or a teenager, but I only admitted it to myself last year. And I’m sorry for not being able to talk about it with you. I got around to telling my parents this summer, and I guess they’d suspected, but it still felt…it was hard, honestly, to tell them. But it helped. But I couldn’t even tell them until now. I’m an adult, and it took me this long.”

“Shane,” Hayden murmurs, “you’re talking a lot. It’s okay, buddy.”

“I—I’m gay,” Shane finally stammers, and curls into himself a little bit. Hayden blinks, wondering if he’s still drunk or if he’s having some sort of very realistic and socially progressive lucid dream.

“But you’re autistic,” Hayden says without thinking, and then makes a face. Oh. “Hang on. That’s not what I meant. Gay?”

“I’m not autistic,” Shane says, clearly taken aback. “What the fuck does that have to do with—hold on, do people think I’m autistic?”

“Uh, no. I mean, maybe. Is this, like, a bit? Like are you trying to tell a joke, or—”

“No? I’m genuinely not autistic?”

“No, not that, about the—the being gay. You’re gay? Like, actually?”

Shane looks at him with big, glassy brown eyes. Hayden knows he’s probably saying the wrong thing. It doesn’t really make sense, is all, and he’s not really firing on all cylinders at the moment. “Yeah, I’m definitely gay,” Shane says, voice a little raw, a little defensive. Like he’s debating striking first before Hayden can get him. “Actually gay. I like men. Very much not a joke, Hayden. You think I’m autistic? Or was that…are you doing a bit?”

“No! I’m not sure I’m sober yet, honestly. I really thought—so you’re gay. Okay. Gay people can still be autistic, right?”

“I just told you I’m gay. You thought I was going to tell you I’m autistic?”

Hayden bursts out laughing, leaning over his lap and planting his face into his hands. It starts to sink in slowly. Shane didn’t like talking about relationships because he’s gay. Shane didn’t like blind dates with Jackie’s friends because he’s gay. Shane wasn’t upset about breaking up with Rose because he’s gay. Shane doesn’t like locker room talk about hookups because he’s gay. Shane was hesitant to do Pride Night because he’s gay. Shane doesn’t talk about girls because he’s gay.

Shane couldn’t tell Hayden about the some of the most important parts of himself, because he’s gay, and that’s something he’s not allowed to be.

Hayden stops laughing. It hits him like a wrecking ball. The weight of what Shane is sharing with him is immense, back-breaking. It must have been difficult to hide for so long, and he must have felt so uncomfortable in so many situations. All the jokes that he was gay must have felt personal and dangerous.

“Fuck,” he says finally. “I am so sorry. I’m a fucking idiot. I’m proud of you, man. Proud of you for being brave enough to tell me. I’m really happy that you’re at peace with it.”

“I don’t know about at peace, but—” Shane shrugs one shoulder. “Closer to it. Yeah.”

“All these years,” Hayden says in disbelief. “All these years, man. I—this is all going to make so much more sense after I get some sleep under me, but wow. Gay. Okay.”

“Is it…” Shane bites at his bottom lip, eyes distant. He hasn’t relaxed his posture yet. Hayden is trying his fucking hardest to be normal about it. Shane. Gay. He’s totally down with it. The problem is he needs Shane to know he’s down with it and he has no idea what he should be saying or doing with his face to get that across. “Is it weird? Is it going to be weird? I promise that there was never anything…about us, I need you to know that.”

“Oh, no, buddy. Nothing is going to change with us, okay? You don’t have to, like, defend it. I wouldn’t care if you had a crush on me. We’re good. Shit, Shane. I had no idea, I swear to god.”

Shane purses his lips and exhales through his nose. Now his shoulders come down a fraction. “That’s good, at least.”

“I’m wrapping my head around it. You’re gay. You like dudes. Totally cool. Didn’t expect it, but it’s cool.”

“Yes,” Shane says simply. “I like men. Only men.”

“I can’t believe you’ve just been carrying that around,” Hayden says quietly, wondering if he can apologize for a decade of whatever he’s done and said over the years. He’s sure he’s done and said some dubious stuff, either in jest or in ignorance. “Are you going to tell the team?”

Shane grimaces. Hayden cringes seeing it, knowing the thoughts that must be running through Shane’s head at the idea. The teasing, the constant one-upping of stories about nailing girls. Coach Theriault and his distaste for Pride Night. Even worse, Hayden can imagine the scenario Shane just brought up, where Hayden freaks out about a dude being attracted to him and seeing him naked, actually happening. There are at least a few who might react like that, or maybe even outright harass Shane about it. Hayden doesn’t know. It’s completely uncharted territory. Or, well, mostly uncharted, since Scott Hunter hasn’t written his tell-all memoir yet. It’s probably even more terrifying for Shane.

“Probably eventually,” Shane says, though he seems loath to even contemplate it. “I don’t know. I’ll probably tell JJ. He’s a friend, and I know he’s some kind of ally, even if he says stupid shit. But I haven’t decided yet. I know Theriault would flip his shit, but if I start telling teammates, he’s gonna hear eventually, so. Maybe I just have to suck it up and bite the bullet.”

“Who else knows? Your parents?”

“Yeah. My parents. They were…I guess a little confused, but they got on top of it quick. It was hard to lie to them for so long. It’s been better since I came out to them. Now there’s no secrets. It’s a relief. I don’t think I even knew how stressed I was about it until it was out.”

“Thank god.” Hayden can’t imagine Yuna Hollander reacting with anything but the frighteningly ferocious love she has for Shane at all other times, but he can understand Shane still being nervous. He’s their only child, their greatest achievement, and the pressure has always been so high. “Anyone else?”

“Yeah, uh, Rose. She figured it out before I did. Kind of. I mean, I had…some inklings, but I was trying really hard to be straight. I thought maybe if I could still like girls, it wouldn’t matter that I liked guys too. But she called it. I’m glad she did. I don’t know if I would ever have admitted it to myself if she hadn’t.”

“I’m so mad I haven’t met her yet. Now I need to meet her even more, holy shit. She’s hot and a genius.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t that hard for her,” Shane snorts. “Our sex was catastrophically bad. I was a total disaster.”

“Oh, man, all this time I was so desperate to know about your sex life, and this is even better than anything I could have expected. I couldn’t believe you weren’t sad about losing Rose Landry, and meanwhile she’s helping you through your gay crisis. God. Could you still get hard? Or was it like, did it feel gross to be with a girl? Was she your first?”

“Stop,” Shane groans, cheeks faintly pink in the low light. “Just because you know this now doesn’t mean I don’t still like my privacy. I’m not telling you all that. All I’ll say is that it wasn’t the best sex either of us have had. That’s it.”

“Okay, fine, but—” Hayden chews on the back of his knuckle and gives Shane a look. A look. “You met someone this summer, didn’t you? If you’re telling me.”

Shane holds his gaze remarkably well and shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t meet anyone.”

Damn it. Hayden is literally never going to hear about it, unless Shane elopes one day and sells the story to a pap. “You’re really not gonna tell me?”

“I didn’t meet anyone this summer,” Shane repeats. “I met someone a long time ago.”

Hayden gawks at him, both hands on the arms of the lounge chair and elbows in the air like a weird pterodactyl. “How long?” Hayden blurts out. “Who is he?”

Shane’s tongue wets his lower lip. His polite little smile becomes strained. “I’m not there yet,” he says. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Are you together? Are you dating? Has he met your parents?”

“We’re together. He met my parents. And I love him.”

“You love him?” Hayden practically yells. “Holy fuck! My best friend is in love. I can’t wait to meet this guy. You’re gonna introduce us, right?”

Shane is laughing silently, gesturing at Hayden to be quieter. He’s relaxed now, his normal self, maybe the most uninhibited Hayden has ever seen him, like the secret was weighing him down for the last ten years. Now that he thinks about it, it probably was. “Not if you’re gonna be like this. Christ, Hayden, I’m in a relationship, not going to the moon.”

“Shane,” Hayden says as he grabs aggressively for Shane’s hand. “You’re in fucking love with someone. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never told me you loved someone. It’s a big fucking deal, dude. I’m so happy I could explode.”

Shane rolls his eyes, lips pressed together in an exasperated smile. “I just need you to be patient. I—I can’t come out publicly, and I can’t tell you details, it’s just. I have no idea how to do this. There’s no handbook for what to do when you’re gay in the MLH.”

“Maybe we can commission Scott Hunter to write it for us.”

“Hayden,” Shane says with a sigh. “You can’t tell anyone. I’m sorry. Not Scott, not the team, fucking definitely not the coaches.”

“Can I tell Jackie?”

“Uh…yeah, that’s probably fine. As long as she can keep a secret. I just need to know that you understand how serious this is. That means not even telling the kids. You get that? Things get around.”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you?” Shane takes a deep breath. “I’m not asking because I don’t trust you, it’s just that—I could lose everything. My contract, my entire career. It’s scary. I’ve been hiding it for—for so long,” Shane confesses, voice cracking, “and I know you’ve been waiting, but this is my whole life on the line.”

Yeah. Fuck. Hayden does get it. Intellectually, sure, but he can also hear the urgency in Shane’s voice. Shane doesn’t usually let it show when he’s nervous, not like this. Hayden can tell from his habits, from his body language and tone, but this isn’t Shane trying to hide it. This is Shane with his heart on his sleeve. Hayden thinks for a moment of how many times he’s been in the locker room and heard a homophobic joke. He was too chicken to say anything in high school, only just brave enough as an adult to do the bare minimum now. He can’t imagine how Shane felt listening to that stuff.

“I can wait as long as you need,” Hayden says, softer. “I’ve got your back.”

Shane’s eyes go a little watery, sparkling with the reflection of the city lights. Hayden smiles, and Shane nods. “Thanks.”

“Can I ask one more thing? Not about your mystery man, but…” Hayden scratches his stubble and sighs, guilt expanding around his ribs. “You figured it out a while ago, you said, right?”

“I kind of—I had an encounter with someone around the time of my rookie season,” Shane admits after a shy pause. “I was still trying to be straight, but I obviously wasn’t.”

“Rookie season? Jesus. I just—we had these conversations, you and me, right? I would get nosy, and you’d get scared and back off. You wouldn’t even talk about it. And I know I probably was an ass, but did I make it harder? Did I make it harder for you to accept it, or to come out, or…?”

Shane purses his lips. He doesn’t immediately deny it, so Hayden gets a sinking feeling well before Shane manages to articulate an answer.

“Sometimes,” Shane murmurs. “Sometimes, I guess, you would say something that I wouldn’t like. Like, about effeminate gay guys, or something. Or you’d say something to try and defend me, and it’d feel like you were more upset about me being gay than about what other people are saying. Like it was terrible and unthinkable that I could be gay. I didn’t feel good in those moments. I know what you meant, but it made it harder.”

“I’m sorry,” Hayden says. Honestly, he feels gutted hearing it. He was hoping Shane would say no, even though he knew that couldn’t be right. “I wish I’d known.”

“I know. Nobody knew.”

For a few minutes, maybe more, they sit quietly in the night breeze. Hayden is restructuring his image of Shane around this new revelation. Deconstructing straight Shane, pulling out the parts that don’t fit anymore. Then rebuilding a new Shane, the one Hayden actually knows. There’s something weird about looking at his best friend and thinking about him kissing a dude, and at the same time it’s starting to make so much sense Hayden feels like the world’s biggest idiot. At least he knows that honor goes to Drapeau and Comeau.

But when he looks at Shane now, he just sees Shane. His friend, his kind and determined and gifted friend. Hayden wishes he could have known earlier, so that Shane wouldn’t have to be alone. He understands, though not without some bitterness, why Shane couldn’t tell him.

“You should still get tested for autism, by the way,” Hayden says when the silence grows too uncomfortable. “I really think you might be gay and autistic.”

“I think you’re overthinking this.”

“For the first time in your life, I think you’re under-thinking it.”

Shane gives him a slightly exasperated look, but it’s not a complete rejection. “Maybe,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you thought I was going to say that. Why would I be hiding it if I was?”

“I don’t know, dude. I had some way crazier theories. At one point I thought Lily might be a prostitute.”

Shane splutters in disbelief, attempting several times to start a coherent sentence and failing halfway. “Hayden. You what? Why the fuck—”

“Look, you were so touchy about it,” Hayden cries, holding his hands up in self-defense. “And you always met up with her when we were in Boston! I considered, like, ten other possibilities too. Jackie’s the one who got me on the autism path. You can blame her for that.”

“Jesus Christ,” Shane groans, covering his face with both hands. “Lily is a man, by the way. It’s just a code name so nobody would know I was texting a guy. Just in case.”

“You’re lucky I’m not smarter, because that’s so fucking stupid.”

“Case in point, it worked. If it fooled you, it’ll definitely fool the rest of the team.”

“God,” Hayden whines. “I really should have figured this out years ago. Jackie is gonna lose her mind.”

Jackie had her suspicions, actually.

Shane was always a little different. She clocked that almost immediately, that he wasn’t like Hayden’s other teammates or friends. Maybe it was a feminine intuition, or a mom sense, or something. Of course, there were many possible reasons for the difference—Shane was clearly an introvert with a lot of pressure and responsibilities heaped onto young shoulders, he had the classic only child urge to overcompensate made worse by his mother’s matching intensity, and he was by far more responsible and mature than most of Hayden’s lot. Jackie was pleased, honestly, when Hayden brought Shane home. She’d been curious about the rising star, a little starstruck by the opportunity to meet him, excited to try her hand at cooking his particular diet—she’d always loved cooking for people. Call it a love language. The ace athlete that walked through her door was polite, sweet, and approachable, every bit the polite 19-year-old she’d seen in interviews.

But she could also tell that Shane wasn’t interested in girls and didn’t know how to tell Hayden to mind his own business, and seemed far more focused on hockey and his job than the things other boys his age cared about. Jackie had probably clocked the gay thing first and the autism second, but she knew sharing her thoughts on the former with Hayden would cause trouble. Bless her husband’s clumsy style of love—Hayden would tell Shane about it, and Shane would feel uncomfortable and anxious, maybe threatened. Jackie could imagine how serious it would feel to be a guy in elite sports harboring that kind of secret. She didn’t think Hayden quite appreciated it the same.

So Jackie never wanted Shane to think she knew, and she didn’t know know. She just figured it was better for Shane to figure it out by himself and come out when he was ready. She had no clue if Shane even knew himself yet. The autism part she was much surer about, and it was a safer way to get Hayden off Shane’s back.

The one thing she didn’t catch is that Lily is Ilya Rozanov, and that Shane started hooking up with him practically as soon as they met. She’s genuinely surprised and impressed by that; never in a million years did she think Shane would do something impulsive or taboo, and yet apparently Shane was very much capable of scoring on his own without even knowing first that he was gay. And go figure that Shane, who has probably never been bad at anything in his life, managed to bag another pro athlete practically the second he hit adulthood. Most of the details unfold in bits and pieces, mostly between herself and Shane, because Hayden is still being a sulky baby about Ilya Rozanov being part of their lives and not being allowed to act like a toddler around him.

Ilya Rozanov, by the way, is delightful to Jackie and the kids. He’s instantly one of the kids’ favorite people, and Jackie finds him immediately very charming and entertaining. She keeps that to herself, because Hayden is already sore enough without rubbing salt in the wound.

Maybe she thinks once or twice that Shane seriously hit it out of the park, landing Ilya. Hayden can throw as many tantrums as he wants, but Ilya is objectively fucking hot and Jackie will stand by that. Good for Shane.

Most importantly, Ilya is obviously head over heels for Shane, so tender and attentive she wonders if Hayden is just an incredibly bad judge of character, because it’s clear from the first dinner they all have together how much Ilya loves Shane.

Hayden will come around.

By Canada Day, Ilya is sitting on their living room couch with a tiny silver plastic tiara snagged in his blond curls and Amber taking a bottle in his lap, little Canadian flag and maple leaf stickers pasted on his cheeks and arms courtesy of the twins. He’s overseeing a very contentious game of Monopoly Junior which is mostly Shane playing for Arthur, who can barely count let alone conduct real estate transactions, and losing miserably to the girls and Hayden. By the end of the game Arthur is sweetly comforting Shane about their loss instead of the other way around. Ilya has been nothing but unhelpful, giving advice to everyone except Hayden and threatening to cut up Shane’s credit cards if he loses. No more Visa! Shane, what are you doing? You sold the railroad? No more MasterCard! And Amber is falling asleep in his arms, still sucking sleepily at the nipple of the bottle.

And Shane, the reserved and guarded teenager Jackie met all those years ago who could barely bring himself to look at pictures of her single friends, blooms around Ilya like it’s the first spring of his life.

Ilya: I had good time with kids and you. hayden does not have to be there for us to hang out btw

Ilya: is that not how wag friendship works. shane says i am not wag. you break the tie

Ilya: also mysterious package come for you soon. some man hack into my account and buy cloths and toys for kids

Ilya: nothing for hayden very mysterious :/ who can say why