“They’re not doing badly, I agree. But they’re not at their best. Most of their wins have been in overtime. I just think that these cracks forming right now might spell disaster further down the line, is all.”
“Jesus, you’re dramatic! It’s not cracks forming, it’s things settling. They’ve got four rookies on the roster this year—these kids are new to the whole damn league. And while I’ve already had a lot to say about that managerial choice on this podcast?—”
“That’s an understatement!”
“—Obviously it’s going to take time for those kids to find their feet. But they’re getting there. Trix will pull it together, man. Have a little faith.”
—The Hoard Podcast, October 24th, 2022
It takes barely forty-eight hours for Nick to crack.
The day of their last home game before the roadie, Nick drives to his best friend’s house an hour before they’re supposed to go to the rink, Dolly in her carrier on the back seat. His cat has some kind of polyamory situation going on with the Perezes’ two cats, so Lindsay is happy to look after his princess during long away stretches.
She looks surprised to see him so early, still dressed in her pajamas, hair up in a bun. “I have to tell you guys something,” Nick says by way of greeting, and Lindsay sighs.
“Is it something that’s going to make me want to drink before noon?”
“… Probably not?”
“Gabe, honey!” Lindsay calls through the house, letting Nick in. “Our son needs us!”
Nick’s cheeks heat. He’s only five years younger than Marco, but back when the draft had happened and he’d been the young star on a brand-new team, the older player had taken one look at his pathetic ass and somehow intuited how utterly out of depth he was. An invite to lunch soon became Nick moving in to the Perez household for his rookie year, and Marco became Nick’s mentor, best friend, shoulder to cry on, voice of reason—his hockey dad, in a nutshell.
Marco sticks his head through the living room doorway. “Is it boy trouble, sweetie?” he coos. Nick flips him off.
“Go fuck yourself.” He sets down Dolly’s carrier, letting her free to find her soulmates. “But yes.”
“Oh, baby,” Lindsay sighs fondly, squeezing his shoulder as he stands. “I’ll get cookies.”
Nick catches her hand briefly in thanks, then toes off his shoes and heads to join Marco in the living room. The TV is paused on some show Nick doesn’t recognize, but Marco turns it off without hesitation.
“What’s up, buttercup?” He pats the couch cushion next to him, and Nick slumps against his best friend’s side.
“So, like, Matt Hudson,” he begins, and Marco curses.
“I fucking knew it! Iknewyou had a crush on him!”
“It’s not acrush! What are we, fifteen?” It doesn’t matter that this whole thing feels uncomfortably similar to when hewasfifteen and crushing on Connor.
“Bullshitit’s not a crush.” Marco points accusingly. “You totally made out with him after the show, didn’t you? I told Lindsay you looked way too happy after you came back from the bathroom.”
“He did,” Lindsay confirms, returning with a plate of homemade oatmeal cookies. “He worried if he said anything to you he’d scare you off.” Nick narrows his eyes—he’s reluctantly impressed with Marco’s restraint.
“Okay, maybe we kissed a little,” Nick admits. “But, uh… that wasn’t the end of it.”
Marco goes wide-eyed, cheeks bulging with cookie. “Tell me everything.”
Slowly, he tells them about getting Matt’s number, and the texting that followed. He resolutely does not look his friend in the eye as he relays the events of their little drinks meeting, and everything that happened after.
When he finishes, cheeks burning with embarrassment at having to repeat the fuckbuddies conversation out loud to another person, he ploughs right through the awkward silence that follows. “So, like, this is fine, right?” His voice twists in a hopeful lilt, and he finally glances aside. Lindsay has her lips pursed and a blank face, while Marco looks like he’s trying tofind some way of politely telling Nick he’s the biggest fucking idiot he’s ever met in his life.
“You are the biggest fucking idiot I’ve ever met in my life.”
Or not-so-politely, then.
“Hey!” Nick protests, frowning. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Then don’t be an idiot!” Marco retorts without missing a beat. “You seriously think this is a good idea? You, the guy who has only had a real crush ononeperson in your entire life and that ended up with you being obsessed with him for seven years? And yet you think you can somehow have casual sex with this dude who has made you light up more than I’ve seen in the entire time I’ve known you, andnotget your heart broken?Again?”
