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**
“Patty, c’mon,” Jackie pleads, shifting from one foot to the other on the front porch. “Just—”
Patrick sighs and leans against the door jam. He has a hard time saying no to his sisters. They can be little shits and gang up on him and call him just to make fun of his hair and mock his goal cellies, but they’re still his sisters.
“It’s crowded there,” Jackie says, voice small.
“Stay at Gramps’,” Patrick suggests, even though he knows she won’t, and he knows he wouldn’t either.
Jackie’s eyes dart to the side, and she swallows. “No.”
Patrick closes his eyes. For as long as he can remember his family has lived right next door to his grandfather. The houses basically share a backyard. One house has the pool, the other house has the basketball court.
With three girls and one boy and not enough bedrooms for everyone to have their own, the Kanes used Gramps’ house like an extension of their own. Patrick had his own room over there along with a bathroom he didn’t get kicked out of by three sisters knocking on the door, waiting to use the mirror.
But Gramps died last year, and the house has been a museum ever since.
There had been half-hearted talk of the girls moving into that house. Erica is done with school and living in an apartment in Buffalo. She could live in Gramps’ house rent-free, and when Jackie and Jessica are home from school they could move in there.
It makes sense, but other than talking about it a few times, no one has made any steps to clean out Gramps’ stuff. No one has the heart to move his ancient furniture or his stacks of newspapers or his Patrick Kane shrine in the den. The house is their last connection to Gramps, and none of them want to sever that. Not yet.
“Erica’s not at home anymore,” Patrick tries again. “There should be room for you there.”
Jackie gives him a look. “Her apartment lease was up, and she moved back home like a month ago. How do you not know that?” The look is extra judgy. “And Aunt Jean is there for a couple of weeks with Trevor and Trent. C’mon Patty. You have all this space.” She gestures around Patrick’s five bedroom house.
“Yeah okay,” he says finally, because what can he say, really? He bought a house in Buffalo for a reason. (And it wasn’t for its proximity to the most polluted lake in North America). It’s because of his family, and the fact that he sees them a lot less frequently than he would like during the hockey season.
But going from living alone in Chicago 10 months of the year to sharing space with his youngest sister isn’t how he imagined spending his summer. He’d imagined a lot of sleeping-in and watching TV and laziness that no one would judge him for because they wouldn’t know the exact specifics of how he spent his day.
Jackie’s smile is huge and bright and makes Patrick feel like he did the right thing. “You’re the best,” she says, hugging him.
“I am,” Patrick agrees and then winces as she pinches him hard in the side. “But you gotta ask before you bring your friends over here, Jacks. I don’t want to deal with random strangers Instagramming my house and sneaking into my room to watch me sleep.”
Jackie rolls her eyes. “Seriously? You aren’t that great, Patty.” She drags her bag in from the porch. Clearly she’d been sure he’d say yes. “My friends don’t care about you.”
Patrick knows that’s true of her closest friends. They seem completely uncharmed by his NHL star status. Even the cute ones he sort of wishes were a little more charmed give him this look like he’s a gross old dude who pervs on them while they lay out by the pool. But those friends have friends they bring with them sometimes, and they’re the ones he finds snooping around upstairs, opening closets and looking in drawers and tweeting pictures of his house. There’s a fine line between being a little starry eyed and treating Patrick and his life like it’s a zoo and he’s a rare panda or something.
He gives her his best “I mean business” face and she smiles. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you know before there will be people here.”
It’s not quite the same as asking, but it’s probably more realistic anyway.
**
Patrick sleeps a lot the first week he’s home. It was a long season, and even though it ended in the best possible outcome, with the Blackhawks winning their third Stanley Cup in six years, it was still a tiring campaign. The partying and parading and concert-going and drinking and frivolity afterward was super fun, but he was running on fumes by the time that week was over. It takes him several days to stop feeling like he was run over by a truck. Or a Stanley Cup. Whatever.
Jackie is a good roommate. He’s not sure if he’s surprised by that or not. In the day-to-day sort of way he doesn’t really know his sisters. Sure they text a lot and visit when they can, but it’s been a long time since he’s shared space with them for more than a day or two at a time. It’s hard to really know someone, the bigger overall picture of what matters to them, when you aren’t there every day to see the little things they care about.
So Patrick’s pleasantly surprised when she mostly leaves him alone. She doesn’t wake him up by jumping on his bed like she used to when she was five. She doesn’t make fun of him for going from his bed to the pool to the couch to his bed for the first few days without a single other member of the outside world invading his space. She goes out with her friends and doesn’t needle him into going along.
They stay out of each other’s way, but it’s still nice to have someone to watch TV with, someone to eat dinner with once in awhile. He’s missed the easiness of family.
Slowly, a little more each day, the tight-feeling in Patrick’s chest begins to uncurl. The tension starts to ease out of him. He leaves his phone in his room most of the time, doesn’t check his texts obsessively like he did the first couple of days. He doesn’t think about why he left Chicago without saying goodbye to anyone. He just lets himself relax and enjoy the break.
**
“Oh, no,” Patrick says one night about a week after coming back to Buffalo. “I’m not watching this.”
Jackie rolls her eyes. “You are. Erica and Jess will be here in like two minutes, so sit your ass down and deal.”
Patrick sighs. Being the only brother blows sometimes. It means he ends up watching stupid shit like Gilmore Girls and apparently now something called Teen Wolf.
“It’s the season premiere tonight, dummy,” Jackie says, like that explains why he’s being subjected to this nonsense. “And this is a rerun of last season’s finale. Pay attention.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. There are a lot of bad CGI and glowing eyes. “Wait, so, werewolves? Really?”
Jackie makes a minimizing gesture with her hand and doesn’t look away from the TV. “You aren’t allowed to make fun,” she says firmly. “We’ve been watching this from the beginning. It’s our thing. Even when we aren’t in the same place we watch it together. The last season was super dumb, and our favorite werewolf isn’t going to be on the show this year, and I want to see what this train wreck looks like without him.”
Patrick laughs. “Oh, so we’re allowed to make fun of it then? Cause I’ve gotta say—”
“No,” Jackie says, turning to him just as two wolves go flying through the air to attack each other laughably. “We get to make fun of it. Just like we get to make fun of you. But no one else gets to make fun of you, because you’re our dumb brother, and we love you.”
Erica and Jessica choose that moment to enter without knocking, loudly pushing and shoving for a place on the couch, smacking him on the thigh until he scoots over far enough for their liking.
“So I’m the ‘Teen Wolf’ of brothers?” Patrick asks, for clarification.
The girls all share a look and then burst out laughing.
“Sure, Pattycakes,” Erica says and pats his leg condescendingly. “You’re amusing and kind of a hot mess, but we love you because we’ve been dealing with you from the beginning. Plus, your life is full of drama, and we ship you with a dude you are clueless about.”
They all laugh loudly.
“Ship me?” Patrick asks, not sure he understood even half of that.
Erica waves him away. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. You are the Teen Wolf of brothers. And that is not a bad thing. But hush now, or we’ll rip your throat out,” she says and then they all join in, “with our teeth." They laugh like that’s an inside joke.
Patrick scoffs. He’d like to see them try. He may be outnumbered but he’s a hockey player, dammit. He could totally keep himself from being overpowered by his sisters. He’s pretty sure anyway. But he shuts up just the same.
**
He saves his questions for the commercials, and even though it’s mind-numbingly stupid, he still gets into it. It’s probably just because his sisters are so into it. They get excited every time the departed werewolf, Derek, is mentioned, and there’s a lot of happy sighing and excited chatter when this one particular character, Stiles, mentions him.
Patrick pulls out his phone and looks the show up on IMDB to keep track of all of the character names. And good god, Derek the werewolf is very attractive. Patrick’s pretty sure it’s something even a completely straight dude would notice. He’s just objectively a very attractive dude.
When the episode is over his sisters spend twenty minutes discussing what happened and what it all means and where they think the season is going. Patrick didn’t follow the plot closely enough to contribute, but he likes when they’re excited about stuff that doesn’t include trying to set him up on dates or meddle in his life in some way.
“You can probably find the first four seasons online,” Jessica says as she’s standing up to leave. “You know, catch up so next week you don’t look so lost.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “I’m not watching anymore of that shit than I have to.”
Erica laughs. “Sure, Pat.” She kisses his cheek in what can only be described as a smug way.
They make plans to do something the next night, and Patrick tunes them out, settling for searching Netflix and iTunes just to see what sort of TV shows are available if a person wanted to get caught up on, say, Game of Thrones or House of Cards. No one needs to know if he also searches for Teen Wolf. He’ll watch an episode or two when Derek the hot wolf was still a part of the cast. He owes it to science to compare and contrast the show before and after the hot wolf left. That’s all.
**
Patrick finally answers the dozen or so texts he’s gotten from Jonny since he’s been home when Brandon Saad is traded the next day. It’s such a shock, Patrick is almost convinced it’s some sort of elaborate hoax.
After they won the cup, as the celebrations were dying down, Patrick had talked about the future with Stan Bowman. He told Patrick to spend some time with Sharpy, because he likely wouldn’t be there next season. And part of why that was true was because it was time to re-sign Saad.
As good as Sharpy, Hossa, Jonny and Patrick may be, Saader is young. He was supposed to be the future of the team.
So when the news comes down that Chicago dealt Saad to Columbus, Patrick finally pays attention to his phone. He skips the myriad texts from buddies and family members asking him if it’s true and answers the few from teammates asking if he’d known anything like this might happen, if he’d talked to Jonny, if anyone knew how Saader was doing.
That’s when Patrick reads through the string of texts from Jonny he’s let go unanswered. He wasn’t trying to be rude. He just needed to clear his head and take a little time to regroup. He didn’t want to think about the playoffs, didn’t want to think about winning the cup, didn’t want to sort through the hazy aftermath.
The phone rings as he’s staring at Jonny’s increasingly irritated text thread. Any other day he might ignore the call and shoot him a text in a few minutes. But today feels different.
“Hey Taze,” Patrick says when he answers.
“So you are alive,” Jonny says, voice infused with things that sound like irritation and maybe relief. “Glad we aren’t losing both you and Saader today.”
Patrick rolls his eyes, but he rises above, because he’s benevolent like that. “Alive, yep,” Patrick says. “Sucks about Saader.”
“Left field,” Jonny says quietly.
They both know this is the reality, that at any point this can happen. For as much time as they all spend together, they aren’t a family. Hockey is a business, and the salary cap means that business is brutal sometimes.
“Been waiting on the bad news about Sharpy,” Patrick admits. And even if it wasn’t the main reason he’d been ignoring his phone, he was also trying to avoid the news of Sharpy’s expected trade. It felt imminent. Abby Sharp had realtors out to appraise their house. She’d given a bunch of the girls’ clothes and toys to charity, streamlining for a potential move.
“Yeah,” Jonny says. “Me too.”
Patrick also knows that Jonny will never say out loud that his captainly sense of responsibility feels enormous guilt over their contract extensions that kick in July 1, giving them both big raises (deserved, thank you very much). Between those raises and the contracts of Crawford, Duncan, Hossa and Seabrook, Stan has very little financial wiggle room to work with.
If it were up to Jonny, he’d play for free for a year to try to keep the team together. But that’s why Jonny’s not in charge of their contract negotiations. That’s why they have Pat Brisson.
“This isn’t on you, Jon,” Patrick says because he knows it’s better to just cut to the heart of the issue than to beat around the bush and pretend this isn’t the reason Jonny’s so shaken by the trade. “We got the raise we earned. The raise the market allowed.”
Jonny huffs out a laugh. “You sound like Brisson.”
“Well you know it’s true,” Patrick says. “Our careers are limited. We have to make the money we can while people want to pay us. And if we had taken a big pay cut it keeps other guys around the league from being able to ask for as much money. We helped set the tone for what franchise guys are worth. You know all this.”
Jonny sighs. “I know, I know.” There’s an audible swallow. “It’s just easier to think that way when one of our best teammates wasn’t just traded to the fucking Blue Jackets, man.”
Patrick knows that too. It does suck. He’d never say it out loud, but there are guys on their team he thinks are overpaid, and he’s mad a guy like Saad has to walk so those guys can get their money for being mediocre.
“You talk to him?” Patrick finally asks.
“Yeah,” Jonny says. “Just now. Not for long.”
Patrick nods to himself. It’s awkward. All of this stuff is awkward. “He’ll be okay.”
Jonny doesn’t answer for a few beats. “So what have you been doing? Besides dodging my texts.”
Patrick laughs stiffly. “Not dodging. Slept a lot. Jackie’s staying here with me this summer. So we’ve been hanging out. They made me watch Teen Wolf last night.”
Jonny laughs, surprised. “Sounds about right.”
“Fuck you,” Patrick says automatically.
Jonny laughs. “Things good otherwise, though?”
“Yep,” Patrick says. He doesn’t want to get into a whole State of the Friendship address here, where they analyze the end of the season and all the craziness that swirled around them the last couple of weeks. Too weird to do it over the phone. Or ever. And Patrick had been looking forward to the summer making that conversation completely unnecessary.
“Big plans?” Jonny presses, unwilling to let the conversation die where it would naturally die.
“Nah,” Patrick says. “Working out, hanging with the family. You?”
“Same,” Jonny says. “Going over to the lake cottage tomorrow for Canada Day.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. Canadian holidays are stupid and since they both know what Patrick’s going to say it’s easier to let the silence speak for itself. Except Jonny doesn’t do his normal overly defensive of all things Canadian schtick, and the pause lingers awkwardly.
“Oh,” Patrick is forced to say because Jonny clearly forgot how their dynamic works. “Well, that sounds fun. Standing on guard for Canada and all that.”
Jonny laughs quietly. “And all that,” he agrees. “Well, cool,” he says after more weird silence. “So yeah. Okay. Well, you know, give me a call sometime. And don’t shame your country on the Fourth of July, Kaner.”
Patrick scoffs, startled but grateful to be back to their normal script. “Nothing is as shameful as being Canadian,” he answers automatically, a grin spreading across his face.
They trade comfortable jabs for another couple of minutes and then sign off. There are still dozens of calls and texts about the trade he should probably answer. But they can wait. A nap sounds like a good idea.
**
“Oh my god, Patty,” Jackie hollers across the house. She cackles. “Where are you?”
Patrick rolls his eyes, but finds her in the family room. “This seems like it’s not going to be good for me,” he says warily.
She cackles again, confirming his suspicions. “Look what I found.”
Patrick sits next to her on the couch. “What are you looking at?”
“Tumblr,” Jackie answers without hesitation. She turns her screen toward him revealing a picture that makes it look like he’s dancing with a champagne bottle.
Jackie cackles again.
“When was that?” Patrick asks, because he honestly has no recollection of that happening.
Jackie rolls her eyes. “No idea,” she says scrolling through other pictures of the Stanley Cup and various members of the team. “I’m assuming during your Drunken Week of Secrets and Mistakes.”
Patrick huffs out a laugh. “You say that like I’m the only one.”
She puts her hands up in a show of surrender. “No, no. You were all gross. Why do you think we stopped going out with you guys by the end?”
Patrick narrows his eyes.
Jackie smiles broadly. “Well that and all the crowd-based groping and fawning. I got yelled at by this one chick who thought I was your girlfriend. Which is gross on, like, five levels.”
“On what level beyond being my sister is that gross?” Patrick asks prepared to be offended.
She makes a disgusted face at him. “That should be enough, sicko. But also, you’re old. Your hair is doing that,” she waves her hand around his face. “You were dancing with a champagne bottle like it was your lost love. You wore a parrot hat on your head.”
Patrick laughs in spite of himself. “Not all at once.”
“It adds up, Pattycakes. It adds up.”
He moves to take her laptop away from her, but she holds it above her head. “No no! Wait. There’s more!”
Patrick doesn’t really want to see the pictures. It’s bad enough just knowing there are hazy things he can’t quite remember. And other things he can’t seem to stop picturing no matter how much he wants to.
But Jackie’s having too much fun. “Erica sent me this one,” she says and pulls up a video of the Hawks on the stage during the Mumford and Sons concert. It’s pretty standard. The team on the stage, the cup gets lifted, one of the Mumford dudes drinks out of the cup.
Jackie grins at him. “Someone gif’d a part of it,” she says when it’s over and switches to another tab. The gifs are of Jonny ruffling Patrick’s hair, keeping him close, manhandling him like he always does. It just looks worse because they’re all a little wasted.
“Oh man.” She flips over to another tab. “And look at this Vine Jess sent me,” she says excitedly and plays a clip of Jonny drinking champagne, and it’s running down his chin pornographically. Patrick blushes. “Dude,” Jackie says.
“I don’t think I was there,” Patrick says, wanting to stare at the loop of Jonny with champagne jizz sliding down his face but forcing himself to look around the room like he’s bored instead. “I went home early that night.”
“That’s kind of weird, no?” Jackie says and claps her laptop shut, depositing it on the coffee table.
“What, that I left?” Patrick says and flips on the TV. “I was beat, Jacks. That whole week’s a blur.”
Jackie’s face does something unreadable. “Huh,” she says and steals the remote from him. “I thought maybe it was something else.”
“Not sure what else that would be,” Patrick says evenly, wanting to tell her she’s not subtle but not wanting to give her the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. “At least this way you’re saved the horror of this kind of a video out there of me.”
She shudders. “Don’t even joke about it. I had un-Christian thoughts about Jonny when I saw that video. Don’t give me that image, Pat.”
Patrick wraps his arm around her and pulls her into his chest while she squirms to get away. He ruffles her hair and steals the remote back from her. “That’s right,” he crows when he successfully changes the channel to something he wants to watch. “My house. My TV. We watch what I want.”
Jackie sits up straight and fixes her hair, sliding over to the end of the couch. “Keep thinking that, Pat. It’s important that you believe that.”
**
It’s 2:00 am, and Patrick can’t sleep.
Stupid Jackie and her stupid unsubtle hints. He’d managed to keep himself from thinking much about his last week in Chicago. But between that and his conversation with Jonny and the news about Saader, it’s hard to keep his mind from wandering.
Patrick and Jonny have always had a weird relationship. There were times early on when he was pretty sure he hated Jonny.
They fought constantly when they first roomed together. Patrick spent many hours on the phone with his family complaining about Jonny during their rookie season.
The worst part of that first year was that they had to pretend to be friends in the media. They did so many interviews, so many TV spots and commercials. Patrick got so frustrated with Jonny and his oddly laid-back approach to things like room cleanliness and arriving places on time and his weirdly uptight humorless demeanor when Patrick went off script in an interview or during some dumb clip for Blackhawks TV.
Jonny had a special look he gave just to Patrick. Even when Jonny was mad at other guys on the team, he never managed to call forth the same sort of disdain he could for Patrick. They yelled at each other on the bench, on the ice. They’d throw things at each other in the locker room or during tape review sessions.
Patrick didn’t want to hate this guy he was forced to spend so much time with, but he couldn’t see how they were ever going to get along the way they’d have to if they were both going to stay on the team. Sometimes Patrick would lie awake seething after they’d battled about something dumb in the room, and he’d count down how many years or months or days it would be until he could sign with another team. Or he’d plot trade scenarios for himself or Jonny. He was supposed to be living his dream, but most days he was preoccupied with hating Jonny’s guts. And that took the fun out of the whole NHL superstar thing.
That first year just sucked. Winning the Calder, beating Jonny for that honor, was an unexpectedly hollow victory. Patrick couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d failed somehow because he and Jonny couldn’t get along, couldn’t make real life match the narrative the Blackhawks wanted them to sell.
Patrick was used to defying expectations, making doubters into believers. He was used to winning coaches and teammates over, even if they originally looked at him as the small kid who wasn’t going to carry his weight. He was cocky and confident and brash because he’d had to be. Fake it ’til you make it and all that. His confidence would solidify, he’d find his place and then he could relax a little, concentrate on getting better, being even more than people thought he could be.
The thing with Jonny was nothing he could complain about or say out loud. He wasn’t even sure he understood it completely. But it grated on him that Jonny seemed to dislike him so much, that he was so sour, so disinterested in making their dynamic work, so quick to fight. He bristled at every attempt Patrick made at a joke. Even when Patrick paid him sincere compliments, Jonny always reacted as if Patrick was making fun, mocking him. He couldn’t win with this guy.
The volatile fights and continual confrontation cooled by the end of the year. Their hotel room was less of a war zone and more of an icy, painfully polite place where they showered and slept. They both spent most of their time in other teammates’ rooms, and went out when that was an option.
In some ways that was worse than the fights. Because at least with the fighting it felt like they were in a long—albeit annoying—negotiation. When the fighting stopped it felt like giving up. Like Jonny had just decided one day that Patrick wasn’t worth the energy it took to bicker over things like air temperature and towels left on the floor and tissues thrown at the trash and never retrieved when they missed their mark. Something about that unsettled Patrick.
It feels like so long ago now it’s hard to remember exactly when things started to get better. It was definitely not at any point during that first season. They didn’t speak at all over the summer, save maybe a text or two if it was necessary.
But a couple of games into that next season, Coach Savard was fired and it felt like Patrick was starting over again. He had to win over a new coach, prove himself all over again.
He had no idea what to do with Quenneville when he first started. Patrick didn’t feel like he was Coach Q’s kind of player. He played a different sort of hockey. It felt like the writing was maybe on the wall for Patrick in Chicago. He couldn’t get along with the center he was most often paired with. Even though he and Jonny managed to connect on the ice, their fighting and tension wore on the rest of the team.
After a few games it was clear that Jonny was definitely Q’s type of player, that he would have no problem finding his place on Q’s team, and that maybe this was more proof that Patrick didn’t belong in Chicago, that he’d get traded eventually.
One night after a game where Patrick felt like nothing he’d done was right, when he’d turned the puck over and the other team had immediately scored a goal and Q hadn’t played him much the rest of that period, he was lying on his bed in the dark, not having bothered to turn on the light when he’d come into the room.
Jonny was down in Seabs’ room, so Patrick called his family. He didn’t say much, just listened to his sisters do the normal bicker/tease/encourage/joke thing they excelled at. His parents told him about kids in the neighborhood who were away at their first year of college. One of them was Patrick’s best friend growing up, who he’d been inseparable from when he was little. If life had ended up differently for Patrick and he’d chosen to go to college with the rest of his peers, he would’ve been just starting his sophomore year. He was 19 years old.
And as he lay in the dark, listening to his family chatter happily through his phone, he felt even younger. It felt like one of the first nights he was in Detroit, when he played for Honeybaked. He kept telling his mom he wanted to come back home. She’d told him that he would regret it forever if he didn’t give it a shot. That he was sad and lonely in that moment, but that ultimately it was what he needed.
At the time he’d hated her a little for not breaking when she heard the quiver in his voice, for not running out and getting in the car and driving to Detroit to bring him home again. He hated how isolated he felt, how tired he was all the time from having to prove he belonged.
That night, listening to his family in the dark hotel room after an extra shitty game he felt that all over again. Sometimes he wondered if it would ever feel worth it. If he’d stop missing his family, his home. If he’d ever get over not being able to cross the driveway to talk to his Gramps or play basketball with his buddies.
Jonny walked into the room somewhere in the middle of Patrick’s family phone call. Jonny blinked to adjust his eyes, probably trying to determine if Patrick was asleep or in the room at all. His face registered surprise when he saw Patrick was there, awake, on the phone, in the dark.
Patrick gave him a dumb little wave and went back to listening to his mom’s story about one of his cousins. Jonny moved around the room quietly, taking off his clothes, getting ready for bed. Patrick was still in his suit, still wearing his shoes even, and suddenly he felt so exposed.
He caught Jonny shooting him quizzical looks while Patrick finished up the conversation with his family. He felt self-conscious as he had to say goodbye to everyone about six times and “I love you” an embarrassing number of times.
“We’re going to try to come out for your birthday,” his mom said as she did her usual refusal to actually hang up the phone.
“We’re on a trip on my birthday,” Patrick said, trying to keep his voice soft as if that would keep Jonny from hearing him.
“But you’re in Chicago for a few days before that, right?” His mom was the best, and it was making Patrick stupidly teary. He needed to get himself under control. “We talked about all of us coming out for a couple of those home games, celebrating your birthday then.”
Patrick swallowed thickly. “Yeah, okay,” he said and didn’t trust himself to say much more than that. “That’d be great.” He could get through the next few days if he knew he’d see his family soon. He’d stop feeling sorry for himself, get himself back on track. He could do that.
“Love you so much, Patty,” his mom said. How had he never noticed how weepy they were as a family? Dammit they needed some toughen-up training. He could hear the emotion in his mom’s voice. Even after all these years of him being away from home, she still seemed like she hadn’t gotten used to it. And even if she’d fight to keep him from quitting, from giving up and giving in to loneliness, he always knew how much she wished he could have everything—his family and hockey—all in one place. “We’re so proud of you,” she said, like she somehow knew he needed to hear it. “So proud.”
Patrick couldn’t respond verbally. He nodded his head as if she could see him and made a humming noise he hoped sounded like agreement.
“We’ll be there soon, baby,” his mom said. “Okay, your dad is threatening to hang up the phone if I don’t stop. Love you! Bye!”
And then the call ended.
Patrick lay with the phone against his ear for a few minutes longer, trying to get himself under control before he had to stand up and undress and possibly deal with Jonny questioning him or admonishing him about the game. He couldn’t handle that right now. If he didn’t need to wear his suit the next day he would probably have curled up and fallen asleep in it.
Jonny turned on the bedside lamp at some point, so when Patrick finally stood up, he averted his eyes and turned his back to Jonny.
“Your family okay?” Jonny asked into the thick silence of their room.
It surprised Patrick so much he actually turned and looked at him. “Uh, yeah,” he said.
“That’s good,” Jonny answered stiffly.
It was ridiculous that it felt like an olive branch, but it did. And that said something about how pathetic their attempts at civil communication had become, at how often they took to ignoring each other altogether just to save themselves from a fight.
Patrick didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want to be the one that messed it up by being a dick. “They’re gonna come for my birthday, I guess,” Patrick offered.
Jonny’s eyebrows raised. “Oh right,” he said like he was accessing the data file that contained all of Patrick’s vital information. “Well, that’s great. Your sisters too?”
Patrick swallowed and busied himself taking his clothes off so he wouldn’t start the hereditary Kane tears again. “Yeah,” he said into the t-shirt he pulled over his head. “Sounds like it anyway.”
Jonny flipped through a magazine and seemed just as much at a loss as Patrick as to what to say next. Somehow Patrick knew Jonny wanted to say more, to offer something else, but he didn’t know how or how it would be received. He turned the light off instead.
Patrick settled into his bed, fluffing pillows and messing with the blankets and then said into the darkness, “Sorry about tonight.”
It was too dark to see the look on Jonny’s face, which was probably for the best. “None of us had a great game,” Jonny offered tentatively. “Still getting used to the system.”
“You seemed okay,” Patrick mumbled, and felt guilty about how pissed it made him that Jonny was adapting so well.
But Jonny didn’t respond defensively for maybe the first time in the entire time Patrick had known him. “I’m as lost as everyone else,” Jonny said after a few beats.
Jonny was the captain. It felt different somehow. But Patrick managed to stop himself from saying that out loud.
“We’ll get it,” Jonny said finally, when Patrick didn’t respond. “It’ll be okay.”
It wasn’t a great motivational moment, really. They lost their next game and it took awhile for things to feel like they were clicking on the ice. But something changed, or started to anyway, in the dark of their hotel room that night. Something softened, and the differences between them felt less sharp, less barbed. They still bickered and squabbled in practice and when passes didn’t connect in games. But for the first time, Patrick felt like he and Jonny were on the same side.
It didn’t make any sense because obviously they always had been, but he’d still felt like they were competing against each other instead of together on behalf of something bigger than the two of them.
It’s not like they were best friends after that. They still sought out different people to spend time with on road trips. Jonny with Seabs and Duncs, while Patrick gravitated toward Sharpy and Burish. But it felt less like escaping.
**
“Let’s go buy a boat,” Patrick announces the next morning when he comes downstairs. He barely slept, and he needs something to take his mind off everything. He had a dock built at the end of last summer, and what’s the point of a dock if you don’t have a boat?
“Holy shit, really?” Jackie asks sitting up a little.
Patrick shrugs. “Would be fun for the Fourth, yeah?”
Jackie nods and answers a text on her phone. “Jess wants to come.”
Patrick doesn’t mind having his sisters along. He has no idea what he’s looking for in a boat, and knowing what they want is helpful. He can afford whatever, so if there’s something they’d particularly like he might as well hear them out. “Yeah, okay.”
A couple of hours later, Patrick finds himself with his two youngest sisters at a boat dealer, trying to keep their expectations under control.
“We don’t need a boat with a bathroom,” he says as they keep gravitating toward the boats that have, like, bedrooms and kitchens and cost as much as his parents’ and granddad’s house put together. “That’s what the lake is for.”
Jess rolls her eyes. “So what, you just want a boat we ride around in?”
The boat salesman guy looks equal parts annoyed and predatory, like he knows if he plays his cards right he’s about to earn a pretty great commission. “If you’d like, we have a lovely 46 foot—“
“No, buddy,” Patrick says, containing his laugh. “I want something like this.” He gestures at the boat in front of them. It’s red and sleek and will speed them around the lake just fine. He’s not going to be able to use the boat enough to need beds and places to take a shit. Jesus.
Jackie gives him her best pouty face. “Come on, Patty.”
Patrick gives her a look. “I think your definition of a boat and my definition of a boat are very different. This one gets us out on the lake. There’s a built-in cooler. It can pull a wakeboarder or whatever. I don’t need a 50’ yacht I have to keep at some expensive marina. No offense,” he says to the guy who is watching his commission shrink considerably.
“You wakeboard?” she asks, with a stupid smirk on her face. “I didn’t know you knew how to wakeboard.”
“Well, maybe I’ll learn,” Patrick says dismissively as he moves away from the side of the lot with boats that have kitchens and whatever you call a bathroom on a boat and over to speed boats no one tries to sleep on.
**
Once he thinks he’s settled on what he wants, Patrick can’t resist taking a picture and texting it to Jonny. He’ll just pretend all the texts in the thread prior to this one don’t exist and hope that Jonny just lets him get away with that.
Tazer: Nice! Yours?
Patrick: Maybe. About to put an offer on it. Jacks and Jess wanted me to buy a yacht lol
Tazer: haha nah you can’t wakeboard behind a big yacht
Patrick: yeah that’s what I said. Enjoying your inferior holiday?
Tazer: fuck you. Yes.
Patrick laughs and almost pockets his phone, but sends out a text first.
Patrick: if you wanna see how to really celebrate a country you should come to Buff. now with 100% more boats.
He winces when he realizes that opens the door for more conversation on a topic he’d rather avoid right now, thank you very much. But it’s not like Jonny will take him up on it anyway.
Tazer: oh yeah? Maybe I will. Someone needs to teach you how to drive that boat.
Patrick rolls his eyes, but smiles just the same.
Patrick: I think I can manage
He goes back to the salesman’s pitch, listening to the features of his almost-selected boat. He suddenly wishes he’d enlisted someone else to do the boat shopping for him. His phone buzzes in his pocket.
Tazer: if you buy a new boat, you can’t just drive it as fast as you want right away. Are they explaining that? You have to break in the engine.
Patrick didn’t know that, but he rolls his eyes at Jonny anyway.
Patrick: Thanks Cap
Tazer: how much do they want for it?
Patrick sighs and decides to submit to Jonny’s meddling. He texts back the price the salesman had quoted him. Jonny texts back immediately.
Tazer: no no no. Just don’t buy it today. I can be there by Friday. I’ll help you buy the right one
Patrick’s stomach twists because it is a traitor. He’s equal parts irritated and flattered that Jonny is attempting to stick his nose into his boat buying process.
Patrick: I got this man. No need to create an international incident
He doesn’t get a response for a couple of minutes and thinks maybe Jonny was just being nice anyway. It’s probably better if Jonny doesn’t show up in Buffalo. For a lot of reasons. He gets sucked back into a discussion about a yacht-sized boat, and Jackie lobbies hard for that one by selling him on the beauty of a boat with a kitchen so she can make snacks and drinks.
Maybe it would help to have someone who knows what they’re doing, even if it’s annoying that person is Jonny. Jonny knowing things Patrick doesn’t is definitely not his favorite thing. But maybe it would be good. Jonny’s never been to Buffalo beyond the few times he’s been there for Sabres games. Patrick could show him how much better the Fourth of July is than whatever happens on Canada Day.
Before he can change his mind he pulls out his phone.
Patrick: But I mean I’d take the help if the offer’s still good.
It doesn’t take long for a response to come through.
Tazer: Don’t do anything stupid before Friday. I’ll call with my flight details. You better pick me up. I’m not taking a cab.
Patrick huffs out a laugh and texts back a series of potentially nonsensical emojis that end in several American flags. He looks up to find his sisters and the salesman looking at him expectantly.
“What?” he asks, feeling like he missed something.
“You still with us?” Jessica asks as she knocks on his forehead.
Patrick squirms away from her. “Yep. I don’t want to buy anything today,” he says, and the salesman’s face falls. “I’ll be back Friday,” he amends because the guy did spend a couple of hours with them and put up with their bickering and complete lack of boat-related knowledge. The guy’s definitely earned whatever commission he’ll get when Patrick eventually buys a boat. “You have a card or something?”
And just like that his face lights back up. He fishes around in his pocket and comes up with his card. “I’ll be here all day Friday. And I’m happy to answer any questions you have in the meantime. My cell number’s on the card.”
Patrick ignores the kissy faces his sisters make behind the salesman because they are ridiculous.
“Sure thing, man. Thanks again. I’ll be back.” He pockets the card.
On the walk back to the car Jessica and Jackie start in on him.
“So, I thought we were buying a boat by the Fourth.”
“We will,” Patrick says. “I just want to do some research and not make a snap decision. It’s not like buying a ping pong table.”
“You’re going to buy a boring one, aren’t you,” Jessica says sadly.
“I don’t see how a hundred thousand dollar speed boat is boring, but if you mean that you can’t poop on deck or whip up a stew while we’re out on the water, then I guess so.” He grins at them and starts the car.
Jackie laughs and punches him in the shoulder as they pull out of the parking lot. “Yeah okay,” she says. “That last one was pretty nice. What does Jonny think?”
“He wants me to wait—“
“Ha! I knew you were texting him,” she says smugly and sits back in the seat, giving Jessica a look in the rearview mirror.
“And?” Patrick asks, knowing he sounds defensive at the exact wrong time.
“Aaaaand I just think that’s interesting,” Jackie says and smirks at him.
Patrick rolls his eyes and changes the subject by stopping at the mall and letting them shop on his credit card. Desperate times and all that.
**
“So Jonny then?” Jackie asks a few hours later when it’s just the two of them watching an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf, as if their earlier conversation had never stopped.
“Jacks,” Patrick pleads. “Just don’t.”
“Fine,” she says, and her tone softens. “I know we give you a hard time a lot. But we like him, you know.”
“Yeah,” Patrick says because he’s not going to fill in all the gaps she’s leaving like she wants. This isn’t something he wants to talk about with her, or anyone, or even think about for any length of time.
“So he gave you good boat advice then?” She pokes at him again when he tries to let the conversation die so he can concentrate on the show (and the fact that Derek the werewolf has been shot with some sort of poisonous-to-werewolves bullet and his super hot face now looks less hot, and he’s yelling at the hyperactive teenager named Stiles and they’re bantering and it’s tense, okay?)
Patrick lets his head flop back against the couch. “He’s going to come Friday,” he says finally (while Scott searches his girlfriend’s house for the miracle cure for whatever poison is in the bullet that shot Derek so he can help save him). Patrick’s stomach does the dumb thing where he’s excited about the thought of Jonny’s visit even though he’s actually terrified, but his body apparently doesn’t know the difference between those two things. It’s also possible his stomach doesn’t care about Jonny at all and is just really invested in Teen Wolf and the hot wolf’s life or death situation.
Jackie sits up a little, turning her body to face him on the couch. “Really? To stay? For how long?”
“I don’t know,” Patrick admits and pauses the show. “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing.”
“Well,” Jackie says carefully. “I think that’s great. It’s about time he visits Buffalo for real.” She smiles at him in a way that makes him remember why he loves his sisters so much. Even when they’re being dicks about stuff, he knows they are 100 percent on his side, that they want him to be happy.
Patrick doesn’t say anything, but he checks his phone to find a text from Jonny.
Tazer: Flight gets in tomorrow night at 10:18pm. Apparently there aren’t a lot of great Winnipeg to Buffalo flight options.
Patrick smiles and ignores the way Jackie’s looking at him.
Patrick: Sorry I don’t pick anyone up after 10. Spend the night at the airport Hilton
Tazer: ok. I’ll just text your mom and see if she’ll pick me up.
Patrick rolls his eyes.
Patrick: Really? your mom jokes?
Tazer: nah she’s just a nice polite woman. practically Canadian. I figured she’d be less of an asshole than you.
Patrick laughs and moves to keep his phone out of Jackie’s grasping hands.
Patrick: ugh fine. Such a diva. See you 10:18 pm. Don’t wear your Toews jersey.
Tazer: should I wear my #1 Kane fan tshirt then?
Patrick: duh. Everyone in buffalo has one. You’ll blend in.
Tazer: Ha. Doubtful. See you tomorrow
Patrick looks up at Jackie. “He’s coming tomorrow night,” he says because she looks like she’s going to combust without information.
“Tomorrow! He doesn’t mess around, does he?” She claps her hands together and looks like she’s about to put out the Kane women bat signal so they can work together to figure out how to make this as horrifically awkward for him as possible.
“Don’t,” he says and grabs her phone out of her hands. “Just. Okay?”
“You’re not going to tell mom?” Jackie asks lunging for her phone. “Seriously? That you’ll have a guest for Fourth of July?”
Patrick lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, I’ll tell her,” he admits. It would be much worse for everyone to show up on the Fourth of July to find Jonny there without any sort of warning. “But just don’t do that thing where you all try super hard to be slick and end up making me look like an idiot.”
“We don’t have to work to make that happen,” she says and shoves him away. “Low hanging fruit, Pattycakes.”
Patrick rolls his eyes.
“Do you want me to go home while he’s here?” She asks after she finally wrestles her phone back from Patrick.
Patrick’s face heats. “No,” he says quickly. “Why would you do that? I thought there was no room at home.”
“Well, there’s not,” Jackie admits. “But I don’t want to, you know, be in the way.” She infuses those last words with all sorts of meaning.
“It’s not like that, Jacks, c’mon,” Patrick pleads.
She smiles at him. “Pat,” she says gently. “We don’t have to have a big feelings talk, but don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw you guys.”
Patrick groans and scrubs a hand over his face. “I— it was just— I don’t even remember—“
She pats his leg and moves to stand. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is or was, it’s okay. I like Jonny. I think he’s good for you, and I was actually pretty psyched when I saw you kissing in the hallway. So.” She shoots him a big smile and gets most of the way out of the room before stopping. “And I promise we won’t make it weird. We may tease you about it before and after, but while he’s here, I promise I won’t let anyone make it weird.”
Patrick swallows and nods. He can hear her on the phone before she’s even out of earshot. He knows she’s telling his sisters, who will inevitably tell their mom before Patrick has a chance to. But it saves him from having that conversation three more times, and he knows she’ll guard his honor and all that.
So yeah, he and Jonny kissed. It was stupid and reckless, and he can’t believe it actually happened. He managed to duck Jonny after that without much effort. It was a crazy week and they were pulled in a bunch of different directions. Their families were around for most of the week, and then instead of sticking around like he was supposed to for another week, Patrick left. Then he dodged Jonny’s texts and calls and tried not to think about the conversation they’d have if Jonny finally pinned him down.
There’s no way Jonny thought that kiss was anything other than a mistake. It doesn’t matter how things seemed during the playoffs. Or how much time Jonny spent talking on the phone with Patrick while he was out with his collar bone injury, keeping him updated on practices and the various little locker room dramas that exist on all teams. Or how normal that seemed when there was a time, regardless of how long ago that feels now, when Jonny was the last person Patrick thought would call when he didn’t have to, would drop by with movies and snacks and things to cheer up Patrick.
During the playoffs everything’s heightened. You’re exhausted and hungry all the time. You can’t keep weight on regardless of how much you eat. You never get enough sleep, and your body never seems to recover from the beating it takes night after night. It’s crazy intense and there’s so much at stake. Every time you win the fanbase hails you as gods and every time you lose those same people are calling for your head.
It’s not that weird that Patrick and Jonny spent most of their road trip nights hanging out together or that the team almost always put them in the rooms with doors adjoining. They’d stopped bothering to close them a long time ago. They didn’t fight over the remote anymore and there was this unspoken system whereby Patrick got to pick what they watched on even numbered days and Jonny got to pick on odd numbered days. He doesn’t even remember negotiating that, it just happened once and worked, and now he’s resigned himself to the dumb shit Jonny likes to watch on the odd numbered nights. It never seems to occur to him he could easily leave and watch what he wants on the TV in the room that’s actually his.
So they kissed. So what. There’s no sense in letting that become something that meant anything other than what it was: an expression of disbelief, of affection, of thankfulness that they got stuck with each other and managed to figure out how to make their completely opposite personalities work to create success in Chicago.
Patrick couldn’t bear the thought of what Jonny would say once they finally talked about the kiss. He’d be so polite when he let Patrick down gently. Jonny’s good at saying the hard things in a way that makes a person feel valued and affirmed. Patrick has watched him do that shit for years, has marveled at it and been annoyed by it in equal measure. He can’t let that be a thing that happens to him about something as fragile and vulnerable as a kiss.
But now Jonny’s coming to Buffalo. Patrick knows at some point, in a quiet moment when Jackie’s off with her friends and the house is actually free of the hordes of Kane family members he’s sure will be close during the holiday weekend, Jonny will let him down easy. He will say all these nice things about how much he cares about Patrick and how important he is and how much he doesn’t want to lose out on the friendship they’ve improbably developed, to risk it for something as unlikely as a possible whatever-they-could-be.
He’ll be right, and Patrick will hate him a little bit. He’ll feel disappointed, and that will piss him off. He’ll probably tear up because for some reason he can’t feel something deeply without it coming out of his eyeballs. He’ll turn red and feel a deep sense of shame that Jonny has to go to the trouble of saying anything at all.
Once Jonny’s gone back to Canada and started his Winnipeggian summer of fishing and shirtlessness, Patrick will be left feeling like he lost something he never even knew he wanted. He’ll go out with the buddies he has left in town who still go out and he’ll get stupid drunk at seedy bars. He’ll pick someone up and have sex he won’t remember the next day. His mom and his sisters will give him lots of knowing looks for days, and when he finally brings someone home so they’ll stop they’ll give him different looks that make him feel like they know him too well and love him in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes.
He picks up his phone several times, meaning to text Jonny and tell him not to come. But he can’t think of an excuse that won’t make Patrick seem like an asshole.
When he finally makes it upstairs to his bedroom he spends another night staring at the ceiling until he gives in and takes a sleeping pill so he doesn’t have to think anymore about how everything is the worst and how that’s probably all his fault, which really blows because he’s awesome and everything should be fantastic and if it weren’t for stupid Jonny and his stupid face, Patrick would be perfectly happy spending the summer casually dating Buffalo and feeling like a fucking winner.
The good news is Jonny will be there tomorrow. Patrick won’t have to turn these thoughts over in his head for a week while he waits for him to show up. He’s coming. That train has left the station. Or the plane has (almost) left the airport. Or whatever. Point is, Jonny will be in Buffalo tomorrow at 10:18 pm. That’s happening. Tomorrow.
**
“You’re such a mess,” Jackie says when she finds him the next day, nervously puttering around the house.
The cleaning service was just there that morning and made sure everything looks perfect so it’s not like he’s accomplishing anything with his puttering. But he can’t sit still, so he’s organizing the groceries he ran out and picked up to give his morning some purpose.
He ignores Jackie’s chirp and continues to stock the refrigerator with the Gatorade flavor that happens to be Jonny’s favorite and some of that gross green juice he drinks. That’s just being a good host, though. You’re supposed to go to the store and buy the cereal your guest likes and maybe have their favorite snacks on hand and move a TV into their room so they have something to do if the crushing awkwardness of their visit starts to get them down.
“We could bake him cookies,” Jackie suggests, and Patrick can’t tell if she’s kidding or not, but he’s not baking Jonny cookies.
He gives her a look and puts away the bag of organic baked kale chips and the hummus Jonny likes that Patrick thinks tastes like feet.
“Mom wants to have dinner at their house tomorrow night,” Jackie informs him, hoisting herself up on the counter and reaching for the bag of kale chips.
Patrick snatches it back and hands her a can of Pringles because it’s not like she cares about kale.
“So go buy the boat and then go to Mom and Dad’s,” Jackie says, shoving a five-stack of Pringles into her mouth and crunching down obnoxiously.
“And Saturday?”
“Everyone’s coming over here. Mom and the aunts and Erica are bringing most of the food,” she says through a mouth full of chip crumbs. “I ordered a bunch of stuff that will be delivered tomorrow. Drinks, cups, plates, all that shit. Rented some tables. Chairs. A big grill.”
Patrick nods. He gave her a credit card for household expenses and stuff. Normally he doesn’t care about a rundown of the details, but at the moment it’s taking his mind off his Jonny-related nerves.
“There are fireworks Friday night at the beach and then again on the Fourth at the country club,” she says licking her fingers. “If you have the boat by then there's also a show at Canalside that would be a bitch to get to by car and park and stuff, but with the boat it would be pretty easy.”
Patrick has a huge family, so whatever they do they aren’t all going to fit on the boat. But they can split up and do different things for the fireworks if it comes to that.
“Oh, and I rented an ice cream truck,” she says, eyes brightening. “Rad, right? This dude comes and hangs out in the truck, and it’s stocked with all the popsicles and cones and shit.”
Patrick laughs. “Like the creepy ice cream van that played the scary carnival music that would roll through our neighborhood super slow and mom wouldn’t let us near it alone?” Patrick shudders remembering.
“No way,” she says gravely. “I would never. That was like one step up from a murder van. This will be, like, charming and shit.”
Patrick grins and tamps down the swell of affection he feels for her. “Amy’s kids will love that,” he says thinking of his oldest cousin’s young kids.
“Screw Amy’s kids,” Jackie says indignantly. “We will love that, bro. Jonny will love that.”
Patrick’s face reddens, and Jackie grins predatorily.
“We will Americana the fuck out of Captain Canada,” she says smugly.
Patrick laughs. “Make sure you say that to him.”
“Who says I haven’t already?” She asks, hopping down off the counter, giving him an exaggerated wink and topping it off with cheesy finger guns. “Okay. Come on.”
“What? Why?”
“Cause you’re bumming me out,” she says impatiently. “We’re gonna play basketball.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “You feel like gettin’ beat?”
She laughs. “Oh Pattycakes. Who won the last three times we’ve played?”
He reluctantly follows her outside. “That’s cause one of those times I had barely slept after I first got home from Chicago.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
They play without any talk other than chirping and arguing with each other about fouls. His sister is good at basketball, is the thing. All of the Kanes are competitive. It’s in their DNA or something, but Jackie’s actually good. When Patrick’s friends come over to play, they pick her to a team no question, and usually in one of the first picks. She’s quick, she’s got a great shot and she’s not afraid to mix it up.
Patrick prevails this time, however, and he’s pretty sure she didn’t let him win. He adds a tally mark to the chalkboard that hangs just inside the backdoor of the house where they keep track of their ongoing competition. He should probably be embarrassed how close it actually is. They’ve been keeping track since before Patrick had the house in Buffalo. He’s still ahead but that’s also because they started this when she was 16 or 17. He’s resigned himself to the fact that over time she’ll overtake him.
His buddies give him shit for it, but they’re assholes, and his sister is awesome, so whatever.
They drink Gatorade on the back deck and tease each other about the game. It’s a warm day, but there’s a nice breeze coming off the lake. He loves it here. Buffalo, New York may not be a glamorous vacation destination for most people, but Patrick doesn’t care. This is where he feels safest, where his family and oldest friends are.
This is where he’s Pat: brother, son, friend. Where he can be something other than Patrick Kane, number 88 for the Chicago Blackhawks, first pick of the 2007 draft, winner of the Calder in 2008, the Conn Smythe in 2013, and owner of three Stanley Cup rings.
He likes being that guy too. But that guy always has something to prove. That guy was the smallest kid on every team he’s ever played on. That guy always has to fight for the respect he knows he deserves. That guy has weathered criticism (sometimes justified, sometimes not), worried about getting traded, wondered about his future.
But Pat Kane, the one that lives on the water in Buffalo, New York knows exactly who he is. He’s the older brother of three sisters who never leave him alone but who love and protect him. He’s the son of parents who sacrificed so he could live up to potential very few believed he actually possessed.
He’s nervous about letting Jonny into this space. Because this is where he’s most vulnerable. This is the place that’s more important to him because it’s filled with the people who matter most. It feels right for Jonny to be there too, and that scares Patrick. He’s scared that Jonny will slot into his life in Buffalo and feel like he belongs there.
And then when Jonny inevitably leaves, a little of that safety and security will go with him.
**
Patrick’s nervous as he showers and changes after their basketball game. He stares at himself in the mirror and contemplates shaving. He got rid of his playoff beard already, but he’s kept the mullet. He’s sure Jonny will have something to say about that.
Jonny is a very tactile guy. He easily slings his arm around his friends’ shoulders, he touches people when he talks to them, he grabs guys on the back of the neck affectionately. He’s not the biggest guy on the team, but he’s not a small guy either. And there’s a possessiveness in Jonny’s touchy behavior, especially with Patrick. It’s been that way for a long time.
During playoffs this year, however, Jonny always seemed like he was everywhere Patrick was. He sat next to him during meals, keeping an arm slung around the back of Patrick’s chair. He’d grab the seat next to Patrick on the bus from the plane to their hotel. And he started doing this new thing where he’d run his fingers through the back of Patrick’s mullet and kind of tug on it like the punctuation to whatever joke or chirp he’d just attempted.
He probably meant it as a goof, a way to tease Patrick for the mullet everyone gave him such a hard time for during the playoffs. He probably had no idea that Patrick started leaning into Jonny hoping for that particular form of his handsiness.
When Patrick had gone to his barber to get the beard and the mullet removed after he’d arrived in Buffalo, he kept thinking of Jonny’s fingers in his hair the night they won the cup. How he’d leaned in close, almost loomed over Patrick in the hallway outside the locker room. How he’d grabbed onto Patrick’s hair and leaned his forehead against Patrick’s. They were drunk and tired and Patrick’s sure he didn’t realize exactly what he was doing. But he’d let out this little sigh of satisfaction. And it had been so easy to move just a little bit, to line himself up with Jonny’s mouth, to close the distance, the minuscule meaningless distance, and press his lips to Jonny’s.
The fingers in Patrick’s hair tightened and the other hand grasped his hip and then the kiss had deepened. Jonny’s lips were softer than Patrick expected, but they were framed by his scratchy tragedy of a beard, and the contrast kept Patrick grounded in the moment. He was kissing Jonny. Jonny was kissing him. Neither of them jumped away like repelling magnets. It went on, lazy, slow and kind of sweet. Until Jonny finally pulled away and leaned his forehead against Patrick’s, like he was reverting to the starting position.
“Peeks,” he’d murmured against Patrick’s skin. “We did it.” His voice was so fond, speech a little slurred by alcohol and exhaustion.
Patrick wasn’t sure if he’d meant winning another Stanley Cup, or if he’d meant the kissing. So he nodded and tried not to breathe too much in case he somehow messed up the moment.
He lied when he told Jackie he didn’t remember. Of course he remembered. He kept trying to forget how Jonny had looked down at him when they’d finally pulled apart. How his big eyes searched Patrick’s face like he was looking to understand something. And then there was a commotion at the end of the hall and people were shouting and the moment was broken.
Jonny took a step back and bit his lip. He smiled at Patrick and waited for a few beats. Patrick didn’t know if he was supposed to say something or if Jonny just didn’t know what to say. But Patrick felt too stunned and too scared to fill in the awkward silence.
“Should go find my parents,” Jonny said and squeezed the back of Patrick’s neck.
Patrick nodded. “Yeah, me too,” he said, voice thick and throat raw.
“See you at the thing tomorrow though, right?” Jonny said, steady and even as always.
Patrick felt like the hallway was spinning and like he might stumble. But he shrugged and tried to smile in a way that suggested he was just as calm about everything as Jonny. “I’ll go where the cup goes, man,” he said, swallowing down the lump that threatened to betray his actual lack of cool in that moment.
Jonny gave a nod and then jogged down the hallway to find his family.
Patrick leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a second. He could still feel the kiss, his lips tingling. He could feel Jonny tugging on his mullet, his big hand on the back of Patrick’s neck. He could smell Jonny all around. The overwhelming sweaty smell that finds a permanent home in hockey gear. The saltiness of Jonny’s skin. The way his stupid face just kind of fucking glows, even when he’s stinky and sweaty like the rest of them. How his eyes are bright and interested, even when he’s been drinking champagne and beer when he should’ve been rehydrating with water and electrolytes.
Patrick had known for awhile he had a thing for Jonny. But it was a low-grade thing he could keep in check. It didn’t threaten to bubble up and mess with their dynamic. He didn’t expect anything in return. He didn’t make moves on him or try anything that would complicate things. But there in the hallway of the United Center after their third Stanley Cup win, he’d let his emotions take over when normally he’d have kept them tamped down appropriately.
The next day, sobered up and rethinking the hours after their win, the kiss that had felt mutual and in-the-moment the night before, felt like Patrick aggressively making an unwanted move on Jonny. It felt like Patrick pushing something that was meant to be friendly and congratulatory and making it something else.In the light of day, Jonny’s enthusiastic participation became something more akin to humoring Patrick at best and pitying him at worst.
Patrick was so convinced of this that when they all met up at Sharpy’s that night to go to the Cubs game, Patrick could barely look Jonny in the eye. He sat away from him on the bus, tried to keep a few people between them at all times.
He was embarrassed. He kept remembering how it felt to have his lips against Jonny’s. How much he’d liked it. How he wished they could’ve kept doing that, maybe sitting down somewhere since he was tired, but he wanted Jonny to be there, close, with his mouth on Patrick in some way.
Patrick watched how Jonny interacted with the rest of the team. He did all of his usual hugging and clasping people around the shoulders, and resting a hand on the back of various necks. This was just how Jonny was. Patrick took something that was just part of Jonny’s affection for his friends and teammates and made it something selfish, something only Patrick wanted.
Patrick begged out of the celebration early, called a car and left the group at Rockit. He just couldn’t watch Jonny anymore, didn’t want to keep remembering. And worst of all, didn’t want to keep waiting for Jonny to tell him it was a “caught up in the moment” kind of thing that couldn’t happen again.
He resolved to apologize for it the next day when he was a little more sober. But in the light of the next day he just felt afraid.
So he’d essentially hidden from Jonny. Positioning himself away from him in groups, striking up conversations with other guys when he spotted Jonny inching his way closer. Forcing his sisters to come out with them so Patrick had people he felt safe with, so he didn’t get swept up again and make everything even worse.
He’d dodged Jonny pretty successfully the entire week. The closest Jonny ever got was on stage at the rally at Soldier Field and at the Mumford and Sons concert. Neither place was ideal for a talk about why Patrick had thought it was appropriate to let his feelings get all over Jonny accidentally.
And Jonny for his part had been how he always is. A big goofy dork, wrapping his arm around Patrick and resting his hand on Patrick’s head. Dancing his stupid dance and attempting to make Patrick laugh.
That somehow made it worse. Because Jonny was just being Jonny. Patrick was the one that changed the rules.
Patrick splashes water on his face and decides to shave. He won’t cut the mullet. He’s not ready to. But he can at least clean his face up a bit before he goes to pick Jonny up from the airport.
**
Patrick finished his shower and shave and it is still just 5:00 pm. He has five more hours until he needs to pick up Jonny from the airport.
“Let’s go,” Jackie says from behind him. He hadn’t heard her come in. “Let’s go out. We can get something to eat. We’ll pick Jess and Erica up on the way. C’mon.”
Patrick follows her out to his SUV. She hops up in the driver’s seat before he can say anything.
“You have a better stereo,” she says, like she can sense he’s going to protest the use of his car over hers. “And you’re too distracted to drive.”
He shrugs and looks out the window while she fusses with the stereo, connecting her iPhone and choosing a playlist. He smiles to himself because it’s what she calls the “Kanes Can” playlist. It’s her hype playlist. He should probably disavow her of the idea that he needs her to make him feel better. He’ll be okay. His sisters shouldn’t have to take care of him.
But it’s also kind of nice. He doesn’t bother paying attention to where they’re going. He just leans back and listens to Taylor Swift, One Direction and other music Patrick wouldn’t necessarily broadcast he enjoys to the world but does make him feel more positive.
She pulls up to their parents house and before the car even comes to a complete stop, his sisters are running out the front door. He and Jackie are the getaway car in a crime spree, apparently.
They’re laughing as they climb in the backseat.
“Oh my god,” Erica says as she buckles her seat belt. “Mom was yelling at us as we were running down the stairs ‘tell Patrick I need to know if he and Jonny are coming to dinner’ and then ‘are you going out right now? let me get my shoes on, and I’ll go with!’ and then we ran out the door.”
They all laugh. And not because they don’t like it when their mom comes along. But sometimes it’s fun when just the four of them go out together. Right now Patrick knows his mom would give him the third degree about Jonny and why he’s visiting and how long he’s staying and it’s honestly the last thing he needs to be stressing over.
Jackie rolls through a drive-thru and orders them all burgers and fries and shakes. He starts to protest about eating in the car, but he’s not in the mood to give autographs and pose for pictures if they go inside to eat. Somehow Jackie knew that too.
They drive around for awhile, no real pattern to where they’re going. Jackie takes them along the highway that leads to Patrick’s house but instead of stopping at his place she keeps going. The road winds along the lake. It’s pretty this time of day. It’s still bright, but the sun is starting to dip closer to the water, and everything glows.
As they finish their burgers they fight over the music, each wanting control over who picks the next song. But like they’ve understood some unspoken rule, they keep the songs in the pop genre. They don’t venture into anything emo or sad or angry-sounding. There’s a lot of car dancing happening, too. Patrick is relieved his windows are so heavily tinted.
He stays neutral on the song choices and doesn’t dance for a while, just enjoys being distracted by their ridiculousness. But it’s hard not to join in on some of his secret favorite songs. When one of them chooses “Steal My Girl” Patrick finally gives up and throws his hands up in the air along with them.
Jackie and Jessica have a little synchronized routine they do to the song, apparently, and it doesn’t take long for Erica and Patrick to join in. It’s mortifying on one level. Patrick would deny he’d participated if any of his buddies or his teammates found out about it. But that’s also what’s so great. His sisters inherently know what he needs. They know how hard it can be for him to let go of his worries. They know he’d never jump in his car on his own and drive around Buffalo dancing to One Direction. But they know it will cheer him up, remind him of what he cares about most, about what matters.
It’s almost dark by the time they drop Erica and Jessica back at their house. He and Jackie don’t say much on the way back to Patrick’s. They keep the music loud and sing along to the songs they like best.
When they’re just a couple minutes away from the house, Jackie turns the music down enough that she can talk without raising her voice. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try to stay relaxed.” She reaches over and squeezes his knee. “You’re Patrick fucking Kane,” she says with a grin. “You’re rad as hell. And if Jonny doesn’t know that by now, it’s not something he’s cool enough to know. Okay?”
Patrick swallows and looks out the window. “He hasn’t done anything wrong, Jacks.”
“I know,” she says quickly. “Well, I don’t actually know, because you won’t tell me what happened.” She laughs and turns into Patrick’s driveway. “But I do know you’ve been super stressed all day. I know you’re freaked about seeing him. And whatever. We don’t have to talk about it.” She parks the car but leaves the engine running.
Patrick doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say. He isn’t even entirely sure how he feels.
“Just be this version of you,” she says and throws her hands up in the air and turns up the music again. “Just be yourself. Let him see who you really are. I’m like 99% sure he thinks you’re awesome and doesn’t care that you’re a shitty dancer and that you refuse to cut your hair.”
Patrick huffs out a laugh. “I’m an awesome dancer.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she jokes. “But, like, regardless I think it’s good to be the guy that dances anyway. You know? Like. Who cares what people think?”
Patrick looks at her. Her face is more serious than he’s seen it in awhile. “I’m not worried about my dancing,” he says slowly, because he feels like he lost the thread of this conversation.
She rolls her eyes. “Right. It’s, you know, a metaphor. Or. Whatever. Shut up.”
Patrick laughs. “Okay?”
“My point is,” she says, frustrated. “My point is that if Jonny comes here and it doesn’t go the way you want it to, whatever way that might be, so what? That doesn’t change who you are. Or who loves you. You know? So Jonny doesn’t love you back, right? Like let’s say that’s true. It won’t be because you did something wrong.”
Patrick nods. They’re entering greeting card territory here, but it’s also clear she’s really trying to be supportive and that makes Patrick’s throat feel tight. He gets what she means, and even if she’s not exactly getting to the point, just the fact that she’s trying proves a big portion of her point. Patrick has a great life. Jonny rejecting him won’t change that. It will embarrass the fuck out of him for a little while. But it won’t change the best most fundamental parts of who he is.
It’s taken him a long time to figure out what’s the most important to him. It took him awhile to sort through the incredible amount of opportunity and good fortune he’s been offered to determine what parts of that he wanted and what parts he needed to stay away from.
But this—weird awkward pep talks and evenings of car dancing and fast food eating with his sisters—this is the stuff that matters.
He smiles at Jackie and nods. “You’re super cheesy.”
“Hey,” she squawks and hits his arm. “I’m being nice!”
He laughs and squirms out of her reach. “You are. Cheesily.”
She rolls her eyes. “I take it all back.”
“No you don’t,” he teases as he climbs out of the car. “You think I’m an amazing dancer.”
She laughs and chases him into the house. “I think you’re lucky we love you in spite of your shitty dancing.”
“I know, I know, I know, for sure,” Patrick sings loudly into the dark house. “Everybody wanna steal my moves,” he improvises the lyrics. “Everybody wanna take my moves away.”
Jackie laughs and knocks into his back until he stumbles forward. “You’re an idiot.”
“Nah, nah, nah, nah,” Patrick sings obnoxiously and flips on the kitchen light. He grabs them both a water bottle and tosses Jackie hers.
“We have time for one Teen Wolf before you have to go,” she says as she plops down on the couch.
Patrick makes a show of letting out a heavy sigh. “Fiiiine.”
“You love it,” she says distractedly as she brings up the list on the screen and starts the episode.
He lays on the opposite end of the couch, his feet barely touching her leg and then pokes her a couple of times until she looks at him.
“What,” she says, irritated.
“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For, you know.” He lifts his hand up and makes a gesture he hopes encompasses “for playing basketball with me, for getting me out of the house, for taking me for junk food, for playing peppy music and dancing with me in the car, for trying to Hallmark card me into realizing my worth.”
She nods and smiles. “Of course.” She squeezes his foot. “Now pay attention,” she admonishes.
He smiles to himself and turns his attention back to the werewolves on the screen.
**
It’s weird.
For as well as Patrick knows Jonny now, and for as much as they have to talk about, the car is stiff and uncomfortable after Patrick picks him up from the airport later.
Patrick runs possible conversation topics through his head to see if they’ll lead in uncomfortable, awkward directions. But that means nothing comes easily.
They end up making small talk about the flight, the weather (including a riveting discussion about whether or not Buffalo is humid or not in the summer), and then they settle into the comfort of talking about hockey. Between Saad and Raanta and Richards and Vermette being traded/signing with other teams, it’s an inexhaustible topic.
But it still feels less easy than their dynamic normally is. It reminds him more of those early days when they were first making tentative steps toward peaceful co-existence during their second season on the Hawks. Where they would dip a toe into a conversation topic to see if they could keep up with it without killing each other, and if it seemed like it might be safe they proceeded. Patrick doesn’t want to go back to that. He’d been so relieved when they moved beyond that.
Patrick keeps looking at Jonny. Like a distracting amount. An amount that feels unsafe for the operator of a motor vehicle. Jonny’s somehow already tan. In the two weeks since Patrick’s last seen him he already has a deep tan. Patrick, per usual, has burned and settled into a sort of mild freckling that has eased into a pseudo-tan. But nothing like Jonny. His skin is basically glowing. Even in the dark Patrick can tell. He looks relaxed and like he’s put a little weight back on. It hasn’t been long enough to completely recover from the grueling toll playoffs take on a body, but Jonny looks great.
Patrick wants to touch him. That’s not entirely new. Even when they fought all the time and seemed to hate each other there was this low key thrum of something between them. This tension that Patrick didn’t know how to name at the time. It was probably part of what was so unsettling about their dynamic.
Once they became friends, he determined it was friendly affection. He lumped it under the bros-teammates-buddies category in his head because that was where it fit the best. But that still didn’t feel quite right. None of his other friends made Patrick feel like something was buzzing under his skin, made him want to move closer, always closer, made him seek them out in this sort of magnetic pull.
Their friendship had deepened when they no longer had to share a room. What before may have been miscategorized as survival was now a choice. They spent time together because they wanted to.
But it changed again, or reached a different level when Patrick got hurt at the end of February. He should’ve been more removed from Jonny, not traveling with the team, not present at most practices. But instead they talked on the phone more, they Skyped, they texted. Patrick made Jonny add Snapchat to his phone so Patrick could send him stupid pictures (usually reaction shots he took of himself during games with heckling commentary).
That led into an even closer connection once Patrick was back with the team during playoffs. They talked about all sorts of shit, topics they hadn’t really broached before. They shared what they want to do when hockey is over for each of them, what they thought they’d be doing if they hadn’t made it to the NHL at all. Patrick talked about his Gramps, taught Jonny to play some of the two person card games he and his grandpa used to play together.
The kiss they shared in the hallway after they won the Cup felt like a natural culmination of that drift toward a more intense intimacy. It’s what made it feel like the right move to make.
But since then all of Patrick’s doubt has fucked with his head, made him reevaluate the way he viewed their relationship the past few months. He doesn’t trust his instincts anymore.
**
When Patrick wakes up the next morning he finds Jonny in the kitchen, poking around in the refrigerator, shirtless. He turns around when he hears Patrick enter the room.
“Hey,” Jonny says, voice still lower and thicker with sleep, hair mussed, pillow crease on the side of his face. “Can I have one of these?” he asks, holding up one of the gross green juices.
Patrick smiles and nods. He doesn’t say that those are only in there for Jonny. He also doesn’t step closer and fit the palm of his hand in the small of Jonny’s smooth back. But it’s a near thing.
Jonny takes off the cap from the juice bottle takes a long, distracting swallow and then ambles out to the back deck.
Patrick follows helplessly.
“'s nice,” Jonny says looking out at the lake.
“Yeah,” Patrick agrees, because it is. And it’s a pretty morning. It’s warm but not hot, the sun is bright and the sky is clear.
“You put the dock in?” Jonny asks after another long swallow.
Patrick nods. “Last summer.”
“You’ll still have to store the boat in the winter,” Jonny says as he stands up and starts across the lawn toward the water.
Patrick follows him. “Yeah, I know.”
Jonny nods and the rest of the walk down to the water is quiet. They sit down at the end of the dock. “So what’s the plan?”
It takes Patrick a minute to realize he’s talking about the plan for their day.
“Oh, uh, well. Go over to the boat dealer? Buy a boat? Then go to my parents’ for supper,” he says tentatively. “Sound okay?”
Jonny grins at him and drains the last of the juice. “Yep.”
They sit and watch the water for awhile. Jonny slowly wakes up a bit more. It always takes him awhile to become animated in the morning. Patrick kind of likes grumpy morning Jonny, soft from sleep. He’s easier to argue with in the morning, although Patrick hasn’t utilized that tactic in a long time. He just likes how he seems both disgruntled and also entirely at peace when he first wakes up.
They go inside to prepare breakfast after that.
“Where’s your sister?” Jonny asks after awhile.
“Helping my mom and aunts cook for tonight and tomorrow,” Patrick says and slides half the eggs he’s been scrambling onto Jonny’s plate.
“What’s tomorrow?”
Patrick grins. “Well, the Fourth of July, Jonathan,” he says slowly.
Jonny rolls his eyes. “Right. Picked up on that somehow.”
Patrick laughs. “I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better,” he admits. “Just so you know.”
Jonny takes a big bite of eggs and chews them aggressively. If that’s a thing. He swallows. “I’ll get through it somehow,” he says solemnly.
Patrick feels a swell of affection. He’s glad the very awkward atmosphere that surrounded them last night seems to be mostly gone this morning. Of course now that he’s thought that, he immediately can’t think of what to say next. But at least they’re eating and silence can be explained away.
**
The boat shopping is a struggle between the parts of Patrick that find Jonny’s competency attractive and the parts of him that are irritated when Jonny knows stuff Patrick doesn’t. On the one hand it’s kind of hot when Jonny’s able to cut through the salesman’s bullshit and ask the questions Patrick didn’t know he was supposed to be asking. On the other hand, Patrick just wants to buy a freaking boat and put it in the water.
Jonny rules out the boat Patrick would’ve bought the other day if he hadn’t texted Jonny on a whim. He determines it’s too much flash and not enough substance, a bunch of words about the engine and stuff that completely goes over Patrick’s head.
He asks Patrick questions about what he wants to do on the boat, how many people he wants to take out and still be able to pull someone behind the boat, how often it will get used, what his plan is for the boat during the winter.
Patrick is both totally aroused and completely irritated. So you know, another day in the life of his relationship with Jonny.
After a couple of hours of this they settle on a (barely) used boat. Jonny finds one that is a couple of years old, one owner, but the engine’s been properly broken in so Patrick won’t have to worry about doing that. It’s a really nice boat, looks great, and was well-maintained. Jonny declares it “the nicer, newer version of my boat.” As long as Patrick has something nicer and newer than Jonny, he feels good about the purchase.
Patrick wouldn’t have thought to buy a used boat. He’d been focused on new. But it knocks a good amount off the price, and saving money is always a good idea. Especially on something he’s not going to use very often.
Jonny seems smugly satisfied by the whole thing. He gets the salesman to throw in a trailer and tells him they want to take it with them today. Patrick signs a bunch of stuff, writes a check, and then he and Jonny go grab lunch while the boat place prepares the boat for their transport back to the lake.
**
Patrick is glad Jonny’s here for this, because it turns out that getting the boat launched into the lake is totally a two person job, and not simply a Patrick and Jackie two-person sort of job. He would’ve had no idea how to do this properly. But Jonny clearly does.
The boat launch location isn’t that far from Patrick’s house. But once the boat is in the water, Jonny looks at him gravely. “I’m going to drive this back to your house,” he says, hesitantly, like he’s depriving Patrick of something. “I mean, you can, but you’d have to do it alone. And I don’t know—“
Patrick smiles. “No, no that’s fine,” he says, relieved actually. “I’ll meet you back there.”
“You sure?” Jonny asks, clearly worried he’s ruining Patrick’s big inaugural boat moment.
Patrick nods. “No big. See you in a few.”
It takes Patrick less than 10 minutes to get back to his house and disconnect the trailer. By the time he’s done and walks down to the water, Jonny’s there waiting for him with a big smile on his face.
“This is such a nice boat, Peeks,” Jonny enthuses. “C’mon.”
“Now?” Patrick asks looking at his watch. They have a couple of hours before they need to be at his parents’ house for dinner. “Yeah okay.”
He climbs into the boat. Jonny stays behind the wheel, maneuvering away from the dock and out into the open water. He shows Patrick the various controls and how they work. Patrick probably could’ve figured it out himself, but he appreciates not having to bumble around in a boat that cost him twice as much as his car.
Patrick loves it. Loves the way the wind whips through his hair as they fly across the water. It’s hard to talk much which relieves the weird tension he’s felt on and off since Jonny got to Buffalo. It’s nice just being together doing something Jonny feels so comfortable with, seems so excited to share with Patrick.
Jonny relinquishes control to Patrick for the drive back to the dock, standing close so he can be heard giving instruction and advice. Jonny takes over again when they get close to the dock so Patrick doesn’t ruin the paint job by accidentally slamming into it or something, but overall he thinks he did okay for his first time.
Jonny shows Patrick how to properly tie the boat to the dock. Knot tying and talk of cleats and hitches and short tying and a bunch of other terms unfamiliar to Patrick shouldn’t be hot. And yet Jonny patiently explaining proper mooring is kind of doing it for him. Of course Jonny’s also wearing a pair of shorts that are really displaying his gluteal assets. That could be the source of Patrick’s attraction, which would make more sense than knot tying.
**
“So is this part of the American Extravaganza 2015?” Jonny asks as they pull up to the Kane’s house.
Patrick huffs. “This is just dinner with my family. No patriotism required. Tomorrow’s the big party.”
Jonny nods. “Just want to make sure I’m prepared. Steel myself for the onslaught.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “The Fourth of July is awesome,” he says. He knows Jonny’s kidding, but it’s been Patrick’s favorite holiday for a long time. It’s not exactly Christmas in terms of specialness, but at the same time, these days Christmas is hardly a break in the midst of the NHL season. It’s harried and stressful and much less fun than it was when he was younger.
Whereas Fourth of July is in the heart of the summer break. He’s already home, eased into his time off. His family is all around, including the extended family. Fourth of July is grilling and lemonade and beer and watermelon and corn on the cob and potato salad and people splashing in the pool and playing basketball with his sisters on a team against his cousins. It’s everybody getting a little bit sunburnt and falling asleep on blankets waiting for the fireworks to start.
Patrick’s American-ness is kind of a joke on the Blackhawks. Most of the guys he plays with are Canadian. The NHLPA is not American in any sort of majority. So being American kind of became one of his “things.” And then of course there was all of the chirping surrounding the Olympics and having to stick up for his homeland, since in international hockey the Americans are usually discounted and dismissed, which is not something most Americans are very comfortable with.
But aside from all of that, Patrick’s proud of where he’s from. The USA chants and “in your face” flag placement and stereotypical “America = best” stuff is mostly schtick. He does it to get a rise out of his teammates and because he knows it’s what they expect. It’s the part he plays in their continual dramedy of America vs. Canada stuff.
To Patrick, really, loving where he’s from is less about being ardently patriotic and blindly supportive of everything his country has done, is doing and will do. He’s proud to be an American, but that starts with being proud to be from Buffalo, which is really more about being proud to be Patrick Kane. He loves his family, and this is where they’re from. This is who his dad is, where he came from. This is the place that made the people Patrick loves, and that’s reason enough to make a big deal out of the Fourth of July as far as he’s concerned.
Of course, when pressed, he’ll never say all that to Jonny or any of the guys on the team. He’ll just find a gif on his phone of an eagle swooping down and demolishing a maple leaf or something and cackle and act like an asshole. And he knows that tomorrow at the picnic everything (no seriously, everything) will be flag printed, or red, white and blue. There will be sparklers and fireworks and patriotic music. Because his mom loves a good theme and what’s more worthy of going a little overboard than loving your country?
“I’m prepared to be impressed,” Jonny says with a smirk bringing Patrick back to the conversation.
“Good,” Patrick says with a decisive nod as he pushes the door open and leads Jonny into the noisy Kane home.
**
The house is crowded full of Kanes. It’s loud and overwhelming, even for Patrick. Jonny stands next to the front door, like he’s letting himself adjust to the scene and then a big smile breaks out over his face as Patrick’s mom rushes toward him.
“Jonathan!” She says and hugs him tightly. “We’re so glad you’re here. I hear you kept this one” she ruffles Patrick’s hair “from making a bad boat decision.”
Patrick squawks dissent automatically.
“They still bought the wrong boat,” Jessica calls from the kitchen.
“The sisters wanted me to buy a yacht,” Patrick says to Jonny.
Jonny’s nose crinkles and his eyes narrow. “Why?”
Patrick shrugs. “Something about making stew and being able to poop on deck.”
“That’s not why, idiot!” Jackie says coming into the living room and giving Jonny a hug. “He’s the one that keeps bringing up pooping.”
Jonny laughs and gives them all a look like he can’t believe he’s spending time with a family that talks so much about pooping right before dinner.
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Well, whatever,” he says and puts Jackie into a headlock. “We bought a boat.”
“Oh Jonny went halvsies?” Jackie asks and grins at Patrick.
He refuses to take the bait. “I bought a boat. Jonny advised.”
“I did the work,” Jonny interjects. “He wrote the check.”
Donna watches them with amusement and squeezes Patrick’s arm. “Well, however it happened,” she says putting her arm around Jonny and guiding him into the kitchen, “we’re glad you’re here. Food’s almost done. Half the group is already out back. Dad’s grilling. We’re going to eat outside.”
Patrick nods and tilts his head toward the backdoor to get Jonny to follow him outside.
“Do you need help in here?” Jonny asks instead, because he is nothing if not a suck-up.
Donna smiles warmly at him. “It’s so nice of you to ask. But we’re almost done. Go outside and get a drink. I know Pat Senior will want to see you.”
“And me,” Patrick says petulantly.
Donna shoots him a look. “He sees you all the time.”
Jonny laughs. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you for including me tonight.”
“You’re always welcome here, Jonny,” Donna says meaningfully. “With or without Patrick.”
Jonny smiles at her and then sticks his tongue out at Patrick when Donna turns back toward the vegetables she’s chopping.
**
Jonny fits in easily with the Kanes. He’s known them for a long time, and his relationship with the family has grown as his relationship with Patrick did. That first season when Patrick and Jonny were contentious with each other, it was Patrick’s parents who kept encouraging him to try to find an ally in Jonny. “You’re in this together,” they said over and over. “You’re very different,” they’d remind him, when he’d call to complain about a dumb argument they’d had about something. “Well you are kind of noisy,” Donna had reminded Patrick gently when he’d indignantly told her the story of Jonny freaking out and punching Patrick’s pillow like a crazy person when Patrick was minding his own business the night before their first Hockey Night in Canada appearance. “You do snore, sweetheart,” Donna had said after, laughing at him.
Patrick kind of hated how reasonable his parents always were about Jonny. He needed them to be as irritated as he was. They were sympathetic but for the most part completely unwilling to buy into his attempts at hating Jonny’s existence. At the time it was super annoying, and felt like borderline betrayal. But now, Patrick sees how it did keep him from spiraling all the way into the sort of loathing that would make a relationship impossible. His parents are nice people, and if they still saw the good in Jonny, it made it easier to imagine how maybe Patrick would find a way to get along with him too.
Patrick has no idea if Jonny’s parents were saying the same things about him to Jonny. But there were lots of frustrated sounding conversations in French between Jonny and his mother that first year.
**
Patrick’s dad and Jonny talk about hockey for the first half of dinner until Donna finally has to steer the conversation to something that includes everyone. Jonny asks Patrick’s younger cousins questions about their school year and seems genuinely interested in the answers. He seems relaxed and like he’s enjoying just spending time with Patrick’s family. It makes Patrick want to drape an arm around the back of Jonny’s chair.
To watch the people Patrick cares about most getting along so well with the person who Patrick’s closest to away from Buffalo settles something within him he didn’t know needed settling.
“That was fun,” Jonny says as they’re driving back to Patrick’s house later on.
Patrick smiles and nods, keeping his eyes on the road. “If we make it back in time there are fireworks close to my house tonight we could go watch.”
Jonny’s brow crinkles in confusion. “I thought those happened tomorrow night.”
“Oh they will,” Patrick says with a grin. “One day isn’t long enough to contain all the explosions necessary to celebrate independence, Tazer.”
Jonny rolls his eyes. “Am I still going to be Canadian after the next 24 hours?”
“Probably not,” Patrick admits. “Customs might not let you back into Canada.”
Jonny huffs out a laugh. “Well, shit.”
“Dreams do come true,” Patrick jokes.
Jonny looks over at Patrick and doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Guess so.” He smiles a smaller, softer smile, and Patrick feels his face heat.
He concentrates on the road and tries to ignore the way Jonny is staring at the side of his face.
**
When Patrick wakes up the next morning, Jonny and Jackie are in the kitchen making breakfast. Jonny looks a little out of it, like he’d gone into the kitchen to find caffeine and encountered Jackie and her whirlwind of activity and his politeness wouldn’t allow him to leave without helping.
Jonny looks up when Patrick enters the kitchen. “Hey,” he says with a smile, voice still a little muddied and slow.
Patrick’s stomach swoops, but he smiles and busies himself with pouring a cup of coffee.
“Breakfast’s almost ready,” Jackie says. “Then we have to get everything set up. People are coming at 2:00.”
Patrick nods. He still has no idea what the plan for the party is. But he trusts his sisters and his mom.
They eat breakfast together, Jackie asking Jonny all about Canada Day and what his family does to celebrate the holiday. Then she proceeds to tell Jonny Patrick’s most embarrassing Fourth of July story, otherwise known as the year Patrick tried to impress a girl he liked by eating 5 bowls of ice cream and barfed repeatedly, everywhere, including all over the girl.
“You were, like, 6 years old. How do remember that?” Patrick grouses.
Jackie laughs. “Because it’s family legend, bro. And because that girl wouldn’t shut up about it forever. I’m sure all of the internet knows now that you’re famous.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “You’ve done dumb shit too,” he says petulantly.
“I have?” Jackie asks innocently. “I recall nothing but years and years of me being super smooth and very awesome.”
Patrick scoffs. “Right, sure.” But he also can’t immediately think of something quite as embarrassing as throwing up everything he ate for the Fourth of July all over the girl he’d liked since he began his career as a boy who likes girls. “What about the time your swimsuit fell off?”
Jackie narrows her eyes. “That’s different. Scott was a dick, and he did that on purpose.” Which was true. Patrick and his older cousins chased him out of the party. He still wishes he’d actually punched that guy.
“Where is he these days?” Patrick asks.
Jackie laughs. “Who knows, who cares.” She points her fork at him. “Please don’t get in a dumb bar fight this summer, Patty.”
“Yeah, Patty,” Jonny says with a smirk, clearly a little more awake.
Patrick kicks him under the table. “You’re on douche patrol with me today too,” he says.
Jackie rolls her eyes. “No one needs you patrolling for douches,” she says. “It’s just family and a few non-douchey friends. Settle down.”
“I’m a pacifist,” Jonny says serenely.
“Ha!” Patrick says. “You’ve gotten in some hockey fights. Bad ones, mind you, but you are far from a pacifist.”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf,” he sniffs. “Going for the Lady Byng next year.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “I’m rolling my eyes at you,” he says, just to make sure Jonny realizes.
Jonny laughs. “I caught that. And yes, I will patrol your party for anyone with bad intentions toward you or your sisters.”
“Our hero,” Jackie says, taking her plate to the sink. “Hurry up, you two. There are tables to set up and tubs to fill with ice and beer.”
“Bossy,” Jonny says after she leaves the room.
Patrick laughs. “Yeah,” he admits. “But she takes care of the shit I’m too lazy to.”
“That’s a lot of shit then,” Jonny says and wipes his mouth with his napkin.
**
When Jonny meets Patrick and Jackie outside a bit later, he groans. “Wow, really?”
“What?” Patrick asks, looking up at him from where he’s extending table legs on the grass.
Jonny points between Patrick and Jackie. They both look up at him and then at each other, confused. “The outfits?” Jonny finally says.
“Oh!” Jackie says looking down at her flag-print t-shirt. “It’s the Fourth of July!”
Patrick takes her outfit in for the first time. Navy blue shorts, flag print shirt, navy headband with star pattern printed on it, flag earrings and a flag belt. Seems about right. “What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?”
Jonny shakes his head a little. “There’s just a lot of America here between you two. Any eagles lurking about?”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “If you think anyone is showing up to this party without at least one American-themed item of clothing on you are crazy.” He’s wearing his USA Hockey tank top and red shorts himself, as one does on the Fourth of July. “You don’t wear Canada stuff on Canada Day?”
“We were on the lake,” Jonny says, still looking at them warily. “I wore my trunks.”
“I have a red, white and blue bikini on under this,” Jackie says.
“You can hum ‘O Canada’ all day if you’re scared,” Patrick says. “Help me with this,” he adds and stands up to flip the table over.
Jonny complies. They set up the remainder of the tables and then cover them with the themed table cloths. They fill big tubs with ice and arrange beer bottles in a couple of the tubs and water and pop bottles in the others.
When Patrick’s mom, aunts and sisters arrive, they give Jonny and Patrick more tasks. Patrick doesn’t mind. His family is around, Jonny’s in a good mood, and there’s an ice cream truck in his driveway. What more could he ask for, really?
**
“So whaddya think?” Patrick asks, sliding a green juice across the table at Jonny and sitting down with him.
Jonny takes a sip. “I like your family,” he says over the top of the drink.
Well that’s not what Patrick meant. He meant the party, the day, the holiday. The fact that he was right that every single person there was wearing something USA-themed. He didn’t intend to imply something earnest that felt like it was about something bigger.
Patrick looks down at his hands. “Yeah,” he says unable to keep the smile off his face. “They like you too.”
Jonny smiles into the bottle and looks out at the yard. “Your cousins want to go out in the boat.”
“Which cousins?”
Jonny points to a group of kids.
“For a ride but not getting in the water, right?” Trying to keep track of all the younger kids in the lake seems like a recipe for disaster.
“Sure,” Jonny says. “We can stay close to the house. They were just asking your dad about the boat and the little one asked if he could drive it.”
Patrick laughs. “That’s Brian. He does not get to drive it.”
“Well, obviously,” Jonny replies with a fond smirk. “But he can sit on my lap while I drive. Which ones are their moms?”
Patrick points them out and then watches as Jonny approaches each one, smiles warmly and makes small talk and then points to the boat, gestures toward the water. Patrick imagines he’s very thoroughly explaining boat safety and the many ways no one will be allowed to have any fun, have no fear! But of course because he’s Jonny the whole thing is full of lots of “aww shucks” smiles and his stupid cheekbones and his shy glances.
He lopes back across the lawn toward Patrick several minutes later. He’s wearing a thin white t-shirt and a pair of light blue shorts. He looks tan and relaxed and happy. His playoff beard long gone showing off his, like, face glow. He has a face glow. That’s a thing. And Patrick’s not happy about it.
“We’ve got the ‘all clear,’” Jonny says and sits down next to Patrick again on the bench, a little closer this time.
Brian comes hurtling across the yard, apparently having been informed by his mother that he is going on a boat ride with them. He rams into Jonny’s back and spreads his little arms around him. “Mom said we’re gonna go on the boat?”
Jonny smiles and guides him around so he’s standing next to him. “Yep.”
“Can I drive?” Brian asks, looking at Jonny seriously.
“You can help me drive,” Jonny says. “How ‘bout that?”
Brian is five, and he’s actually Patrick’s oldest cousin Amy’s kid. He’s got a big wide smile and bright blue eyes, and he’s using both to maximum effect in his all-out assault to get Jonny to bend to his will.
“I can probably do it alone,” he says jutting his little lip out.
Patrick laughs. “Maybe when you’re a bit older,” he says to help Jonny out.
“Aww man,” Brian says. “Everyone says that about everything.”
Jonny grins at Brian and ruffles his hair.
“When’ll we go?” Brian asks, leaning in toward Jonny.
“In a little while,” he says vaguely. “You can go swim a little while longer while we wait. Yeah?”
Brian sighs a world weary sigh. “Yeah okay,” he says. “Don’t leave me.”
“We won’t,” Jonny promises in a solemn tone.
So that’s how Patrick finds himself in the boat with Jonny and four of his cousins and a couple of his cousins’ kids. They’re all under the age of 13. None of them think they need to wear a life vest (“I took swimming lessons!” Brian laments).
“Everyone has to wear a life vest,” Jonny says. “Or we can’t go.”
Heavy sighs all around.
“Can you pull us behind the boat?” Trevor asks hopefully.
“Not today,” Jonny says. “The lake’s really crowded and choppy today. Not a good time for that. But maybe another day?”
“This week?” Trevor asks, pressing for specifics.
Jonny looks up at Patrick and gives him a little smile. “Not sure how long I’ll be here,” he admits. “But we’ll see.”
They haven’t talked about how long Jonny’s staying. They haven’t really talked about anything.
Jonny unties the boat, and Patrick makes sure all the kids have vests on.
“Okay,” Jonny says as he backs the boat away from the dock. “Everyone ready? Hang onto something.” He grins at Patrick, the kids shrieking as the boat picks up speed.
Jonny doesn’t go too fast. But he still gets up enough speed to earn whoops and giggles from his passengers.
“Brian,” Jonny calls over his shoulder after awhile and slows the boat down.
Brian sits up straight.
“Come up here,” Jonny says. He holds his hand back to beckon him closer.
When Brian is standing next to him, Jonny sits up on the back of the seat, knees bent to provide a place for Brian to stand on the seat so he can see. Jonny doesn’t take his hands off the wheel, but he lets Brian hold onto it in between Jonny’s arms. He loosens his grip just enough to give Brian the illusion that he’s in control.
Patrick watches Jonny’s face as he bends his head over Brian’s shoulder to encourage him. He’s so patient with him, and Brian is thrilled. Patrick snaps a few pictures because it’s too cute not to.
Of course, once the other kids see how much fun Brian is having they want a turn. The older ones are less willing to admit it, but they still accept when Jonny offers them a chance to “drive”. The oldest even gets a shot at actually controlling things for a few seconds without Jonny’s hand on the wheel or the throttle.
When they’re back at the dock, and helping the kids off the boat, Patrick pokes Jonny’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he says sincerely.
“It was fun,” he says easily, eyes crinkling in the corners. Patrick is totally and completely screwed.
“Plus, you like to boss people around,” Patrick jokes, because otherwise he can’t take the look on Jonny’s face without pressing closer and kissing him or something.
Jonny rolls his eyes and makes a derpy face at Patrick. “You’re hilarious.”
Patrick laughs and scrambles off the boat.
Of course, after that, Jonny can’t shake any of the kids. They follow him all over the yard, sit with him when he gets food, coerce him to play a game of basketball, convince him to change into swim trunks and throw them around in the pool. He’s a good sport about it, and seems to prefer that to being cornered by Patrick’s older relatives who want to talk hockey and USA supremacy.
Patrick watches Jonny laughing in the pool, pretending to lose races to the little kids, letting them climb on his shoulders and dunk him.
“Yeah, he’s the worst,” Jackie says holding a bowl of chips and crunching on them as she stands next to where Patrick is watching Jonny.
Patrick sighs. “Shut up,” he says half-heartedly.
“It’s too bad about how he’s such a dick and totally hideous,” she presses. “Otherwise I’d be telling you to go for it and shit.”
“Yeah, I’m getting in the pool,” Patrick says, leaving her standing with her chips cackling.
After he’s changed into his trunks, Jonny and Patrick let the kids have chicken fights on their shoulders. The kids goad them into racing each other, which they take seriously and then argue over who won when they reach the other side.
“Jonny won,” Brian says seriously, clinging to the edge of the pool next to them.
Patrick huffs. “You’re related to me, Bri.” He gives him an indignant look. “You’re ‘sposed to be on my side.”
Brian shakes his head. “Mom says I gotta tell the truth.”
Jonny laughs. “Your mom is super smart. And Patrick is slow. Good job, Brian.” He sticks his hand out for Brian to slap five.
Patrick reaches out for Jonny’s shoulders and dunks him under the water while he’s distracted. He laughs until Jonny reaches out and pulls him under the water with him. They both come up sputtering, and Jonny’s so close. There’s a lot of skin and a lot of it is touching Patrick, and he thinks maybe his brain shorts out for a second. System error.
Patrick struggles against him which just makes Jonny more amused and he clings to Patrick a little bit tighter. Patrick wants to be both closer to that and farther away from it all at the same time.
Brian’s giggling watching them wrestle. He leaps on Patrick’s back, like he’s going to help Jonny drown his own cousin. Traitor.
But at least that keeps Patrick from focusing on how smooth Jonny’s skin is and how strong his arms feel and how the pool seems to have made them magnetized toward each other, like even when they try to pull apart, they keep ending up close again.
Patrick looks up at the pool deck while Brian’s squirming and giggling on his shoulders, trying to dunk him, and sees his mom and sisters watching him smiling their “we know something you don’t want us to know” smiles. He lets himself be dunked just to get away from their knowing looks.
**
Later, after they’ve eaten dessert, Jonny, Patrick, his sisters and a couple of their older cousins take the boat up the lake to Canalside, near the First Niagra Center. They’ll be able to see the fireworks from the lake. Plus, as Jackie pointed out when Patrick worried his parents might be mad about them ditching the party, it’s sort of the reason why he bought the boat.
It’s colder out on the water later in the evening. Patrick has a sweatshirt on and is hunkered down in the front seat next to Jonny, who is, of course, driving the boat. It’s a longer trip, farther than Patrick feels comfortable navigating at this point. Patrick would rather let Jonny do it. He kind of likes looking over at him while he’s driving, concentrating on the horizon, eyes narrowed like he’s some sort of weathered sea captain whose seen some shit. That makes Patrick smile, and when Jonny glances over at him the look on his face softens when he finds Patrick looking at him. “What?” he mouths. Patrick shakes his head, and Jonny keeps his attention on the task of getting them safely to their destination.
Jonny is, of course, still in his stupid thin white t-shirt and blue shorts, even though everyone else was smart enough to put on an extra layer. But Jonny’s from a northern tundra where it’s probably still snowing, so he insisted he’s fine, and now Patrick is forced to look at how the sun—low in the sky and making the water all glisteny—is turning Jonny’s skin this unreal golden color. It’s all the more devastating contrasted with the white shirt. His arm muscles are semi-flexed in the position he’s adopted to keep the boat on course.
Jonny’s hot, okay? This is an objective truth. Patrick knew it long before he let himself acknowledge whatever else has become clear in the past few weeks. He looks good all the time, even when he’s got his unfortunate playoff beard, even when he’s sweaty and gross after a game, even when he has that red helmet imprint on his forehead. He looks good in everything. It’s super unfair.
And right now? Shit. Right now he’s doing something he’s good at, something he enjoys and that just makes him hotter. Plus that whole skin glowy thing. That can’t be discounted. Patrick is kind of gone on him. He’s also positive if he were to turn around he’d find his sisters and cousins openly mocking him for how he keeps looking at Jonny, but it’s hard to remember why he should care.
The closer they get to Buffalo proper, the busier it is out on the water. They get in close enough to have a good view for the fireworks, without getting clogged up in the boat slips and congestion immediate to Canalside. Jonny drops anchor and then Jackie pulls out the snacks and drinks and everyone redistributes themselves around the boat. Patrick and Jonny claim the seats in the bow. It’s Patrick’s boat, dammit, and those seem like the prime fireworks viewing seats.
Jackie tosses him a blanket. He catches it, but puts it in between Jonny and him, because it’s not that cold.
“You gonna name the boat?” Jonny asks, taking a big drink from his water bottle.
Patrick hadn’t thought about it, actually. The boat is, by chance, red and black and white, so he starts trying to think of Hawks-related names.
“Don’t say The Hat Trick,” Jonny warns when he sees Patrick about to start throwing out names.
Patrick grins. “Hey! That’s a good name, actually.”
Jonny rolls his eyes. “You’re a parody of yourself.”
“Heartbreaker?” Patrick jokes.
“How ‘bout Lil Peekaboo?” Jonny smirks at him.
Jonny may have come up with that nickname but it always makes him think of Sharpy. A weight settles in his stomach. “You think Sharpy will still get traded?” Which is random in the middle of a boat naming conversation, but he knows Jonny will have followed the line of thinking.
“Probably,” Jonny allows.
Patrick can’t imagine being on the Hawks without Sharpy. Even when he’s an annoying shithead about stuff, he’s still the guy who took Patrick under his wing, made him family. It’s just hard to believe he might not be there next season.
Patrick lets out a deep breath. “Yeah.”
Jonny scoots just a little closer to Patrick and stretches his arm out on the seat behind Patrick. “We’ll be okay,” he says finally. “It’ll suck without the guys that had to go, but we’ve done it before, and it’s worked out okay.”
Patrick nods. It has, but it’s never been Sharpy before. It feels different.
Jonny leans in just a little bit and says, “It’s not you that’s leaving.”
Patrick looks at him quickly. “Yeah? I know.” There was a time when he wondered if maybe the Blackhawks would cut their losses with him, trade him for a player who had his act together a little more off the ice. But it’s been awhile since that was a concern.
Jonny smiles and raps his knuckles against Patrick’s leg. “No, I mean.” He swallows and looks out over the water. “I mean, as long as it’s not you going, I can deal with whoever we have to lose.”
Patrick feels his face heat. He stares at Jonny, unsure what to say. Because yeah. That’s how he feels too. Losing Sharpy comes about as close to how it would feel if it was Jonny getting traded away. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Same.” He smiles tentatively, embarrassed like he’d somehow just bared his soul. “But someday they might, you know.”
“We just signed pretty big contracts, Kaner,” Jonny says softly. “Deals that make it seem like they’re sticking with us for the long haul.”
“Yeah, well,” Patrick says and watches his sisters and cousins in the back of the boat laughing and joking around. “The Leafs traded Kessel. He was their Kane and Toews.”
“Well, okay. But that’s a little different.” He squeezes Patrick’s knee. “But you’re right. It’s possible someday that could happen.”
Patrick grimaces.
“But not for awhile,” Jonny rushes on. “If ever. And in the meantime—“ he swallows and watches Patrick for a few beats. “In the meantime, I’m glad, you know.” He waves his hand around.
Patrick nods and looks away. “Yeah.”
“So the hair’s staying, huh?” Jonny asks suddenly.
Patrick laughs and turns back to him. “I shaved the beard,” he says running his hand over his mostly smooth face.
“The beard is never the biggest problem,” Jonny says reaching out and tugging on Patrick’s hair, making Patrick blush remembering how it felt when Jonny grabbed onto it while they were kissing.
He doesn’t respond, just touches the curls on the back of his head and wills himself to stop thinking about the kiss.
Jonny smiles and shakes his head. “Maybe I should’ve seen how long I could get my beard to grow.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“Dude, that thing is just tragic,” Patrick says.
“Pot. Kettle,” Jonny jokes and tugs on Patrick’s hair again.
Patrick squirms away from him. His sisters are all staring at them with looks of barely contained glee on their faces. Ugh. He looks back to Jonny and tries to pretend they aren’t there.
“Don’t disrespect my flow, man,” he jokes to cover his embarrassment.
Jonny bites back a smile and looks toward the city. “This is nice.”
“Yeah?” Jonny nods. “Your city may not, in fact, suck.”
Patrick scoffs. “Was there ever a question?”
Jonny shrugs. “I’ve only been here for hockey.”
“Well, now you know.”
“I think I actually like it because we’re about 1000 yards from Canada right now,” Jonny says with a smirk.
“It’s one of the only negatives of Buffalo, really.”
Jonny laughs. “You’re practically Canadian. If you were born like a mile to the west you’d be playing for Team Canada.”
Patrick mock gasps. “Don’t even joke.”
Jonny rolls his eyes. “You’re right. You might not’ve made the cut for the Canadian team.”
“Such an asshole,” Patrick says shaking his head. “Dump you overboard and leave you here.”
“And who will drive you home?” Jonny smugs back at him. “All the way back home. In the dark.”
“I’m Patrick fucking Kane,” Patrick says sitting up straighter. “I’d find someone.”
Jonny snorts, and Patrick punches him in the thigh.
“Children,” Erica yells from the back of the boat. “Do I need to come up there and separate you two?”
Jonny grabs Patrick’s wrists and they jockey for position.
“Leave room for the Holy Spirit, Patty,” Jessica hollers.
Patrick glares at his sisters. “I’m dumping everyone in the lake.”
Jonny laughs and tightens his grip on Patrick’s arms. “Seems like it’s gonna be hard to overpower all of us when you can’t even overpower me, huh?” And all of a sudden Patrick feels how close Jonny is, all the places they’re touching. Patrick’s essentially in Jonny’s lap, even if he still has a foot planted on the floor. His cheeks redden, and he stops struggling.
Jonny lets him go and leans back against the seat giving him a smug look.
Patrick clears his throat and leans back into his seat. “Fireworks are gonna start soon.”
Jonny nods and settles into the bench seat, legs stretched out in front of him. Patrick keeps his eyes deliberately away from the span of Jonny’s thighs.
“So no fireworks for you on Canada Day this year?” Patrick asks leaning his head back against the seat and kicking his legs up.
“Some,” Jonny says. “We set some off the dock at the cottage. And we could see the show the town puts on in the distance.”
“I love fireworks on the Fourth,” Patrick says looking up at the darkening sky. “When we were little it was the night we got to stay up the latest. I can remember I loved them and was scared of them at the same time. They were so loud. So my mom would hold her hands over my ears.”
Jonny smiles. “Our dog would get really nervous around Canada Day every year. Cause people would set them off in the neighborhood a few nights before and after. He would hide under beds and shake like a tweaker. It seemed funny at the time, but now that I’m saying it out loud I feel like kind of a dick.” He chuckles softly. “If Sir Woof was still alive I’d apologize to him.”
“Sir Woof?” Patrick asks, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
“For sure,” Jonny says. “Knighted and everything.”
Patrick laughs. “We never had a dog,” he admits. “My mom always said she was allergic.”
“But she’s not?” Patrick shrugs. “She never seemed bothered at other people’s houses by their dogs. I think she just figured she had four kids and didn’t need another thing to clean up after. And it’s hard to argue with an allergy.”
“You could get one now,” Jonny suggests, watching him.
“Travel too much,” Patrick says quickly. He’s thought about it. Every time he broke up with someone or felt homesick he had an overwhelming urge to get a pet. But it also didn’t seem fair to the animal since he wasn’t home half the time. “But someday.”
“Yeah, same,” Jonny says and smiles.
Patrick looks back to where his cousins and sisters are joking around together. They don’t seem to be paying Jonny and him a lot of attention. He suddenly wishes he and Jonny were alone. He’s spent the last 36 hours trying to be busy enough and around enough other people that they wouldn’t have an uncomfortable conversation. But at the moment, that doesn’t feel important. Patrick wishes they were sitting closer together, and he doesn’t know how to make that happen when his boat is full of family members who enjoy nothing more than teasing him about everything.
“Aren’t you cold?” Patrick asks Jonny instead, because he’s still just in a t-shirt and shorts and now that the sun is down, there’s definitely a chill out on the water.
“I’m okay,” Jonny says and glances over at him. “It’s not that bad.”
Patrick pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up and hands Jonny the blanket. “Don’t be a hero.”
Jonny huffs a laugh. “Fine,” he says and arranges it over his lap.
The fireworks start then, and Patrick leans back until he’s almost fully reclined on the bench and stares up at the sky. It feels like they’re directly underneath the show, surrounded by the huge sprays and explosions. There’s faint music playing in the background and people are cheering for favorites.
He sneaks glances at Jonny, because he can’t help himself. He doesn’t know what he expects to see since everyone’s faces look exactly the same: tilted upward and reflective. But Jonny catches him looking and gives him a soft sort of smile which Patrick returns, helpless not to.
Patrick’s hand twitches with the desire to reach out and touch Jonny. It’s so sappy and sentimental, and Patrick has no idea when this happened to him. He wishes he could remember the moment they went from rivals to friends to whatever this is. He wishes he knew if Jonny wonders too. Because all he knows at this point is that Jonny kissed him back when Patrick lunged at him, drunk and sloppy in the hallway of the UC after they won the Stanley Cup. Jonny might’ve kissed anyone. For all Patrick knows, he did.
Patrick looks away and focuses on the bright explosions and the deep, resonating boom of the fireworks. He tries not to think about how much it’s going to suck when he finally hears Jonny say that he knows Patrick’s got feelings for him but it was a mistake to kiss, and they can’t do anything more than that. How next season Patrick will be even more isolated. He’ll have to avoid Jonny for awhile because he’ll be so embarrassed. And Sharpy will probably get traded and then who will Patrick hang out with when he wants to pretend Jonny doesn’t exist?
Patrick is the MVP of depressing himself when he sets his mind to it.
**
The trip back to Patrick’s house is slower and quieter than the one earlier in the evening. His sisters and cousins are basically asleep in the back of the boat, Jonny’s concentrating and Patrick’s busy feeling sorry for himself.
When they get back to the house, the party has broken up. There’s a note from his mom telling him his cousin Amy and her family are in two of the guest rooms because the kids sacked out early. But otherwise the house is dark and still.
“That was fun,” Jonny says quietly when Patrick’s done reading his mom’s note. They’re standing in the kitchen, not having bothered to turn on any lights when they got back.
Patrick smiles a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jonny says. “Also, you’re ridiculous.” He moves closer to where Patrick is leaning against the counter and cages him in with an arm on either side of Patrick’s body.
“I— I am?” Patrick says and tries to think about the ways he could be misinterpreting this. “How so?”
Jonny rolls his eyes. “I know you, dummy,” Jonny says. He’s so close. He’s big and solid and somehow his skin is still warm even though they were just out on the water. “I know when you’re talking yourself out of something.” He leans in until he’s basically cheek to cheek with Patrick, mouth close to Patrick’s ear. “I know why you weren’t calling or texting me back. I know why you left Chicago earlier than you’d planned.” His voice is soft and steady and the feeling of his breath against Patrick’s ear makes him shiver. “You’re ridiculous,” he repeats and then pulls back a little so he can see Patrick’s face. He’s still so close though. And he looks so amused, so fond. And Patrick’s still trying to convince himself this is going to end really badly for him.
“I’m— shut up,” Patrick grouses and looks down so he doesn’t have to meet Jonny’s soul-stealing eyes. “We were drunk,” he says quietly, like he’s afraid he’ll break the spell if they actually talk about it.
“Not that drunk,” Jonny says. “Not so drunk I didn’t know what I was doing.” He moves his hands closer together, so they’re pressed up against Patrick’s sides. “And then you spent the week running away from me. I had to chase you to Buffalo,” he says and rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna beg you, Peeks,” he says quietly, seriously, the amusement leaving his eyes. “I’m not gonna play games. Games are stupid and shitty and we know each other too well for that shit. So cut it out.” He squeezes his hands into Patrick’s sides and then leans his forehead against Patrick’s. “I wanna kiss you. Do you wanna kiss me? Check yes or no.” He grins at Patrick then and leans so close Patrick can feel his breath against his lips.
“You’re an asshole,” Patrick huffs out. “I’m checking that box first.”
Jonny laughs softly and moves so that his legs are slotted with Patrick’s, their hips, and, and everything else, touching. Patrick might pass out. That’s a thing that might happen.
And because Jonny really is an asshole he grinds his hips against Patrick and then smirks at him. “Yes or no, Peeks?”
Patrick rolls his eyes and closes the gap between their lips. “Yes, dumbass. Obviously,” he says before kissing him. It’s somehow soft and insistent at the same time. Different than their last kiss. Jonny moves one of his hands up to cup Patrick’s face. Patrick makes an embarrassing noise and Jonny smiles.
“Shut up,” Patrick says against his mouth.
Jonny pulls farther away. “You’re the one that made the sound. You shut up.”
Patrick pulls him back in, wrapping his arms around Jonny’s waist, reminding himself he’s allowed to touch now.
Jonny is a bossy kisser, which is unsurprising. What is surprising is that Patrick likes it. He likes how Jonny’s bigger than him, how he kind of looms over him. It’s always bugged him in a non-sexual context, but in this moment he likes feeling surrounded by Jonny. He lets himself relax into kissing him. He resists the urge to think too much about what this means and whether it’s a good idea and just lets Jonny set the pace of their kiss.
“C’mon,” Patrick says after an undetermined amount of time passes in the dark kitchen. He remembers that even though everyone else seems to be asleep, he has a room where his random relatives are less likely to walk in on them.
He takes Jonny’s hand and leads him upstairs. “You can sleep in here with me,” Patrick says when they get to the end of the hallway. “If you want.”
Jonny smirks. “Yeah, okay,” he says and leans down and kisses Patrick again quickly. “Lemme get my stuff.”
Patrick brushes his teeth while Jonny’s gathering his things or changing or reaffirming his loyalty to Canada or whatever’s happening in the guest room. When Patrick gets back from the bathroom, Jonny is climbing into Patrick’s bed in boxer briefs. That’s it. Just boxer briefs.
Patrick’s heart stutters in his chest. That’s dumb because he’s seen Jonny in his underwear thousands of times. They shared a room for five years. But it feels different now.
“So, I mean,” Patrick starts and then stops.
“Yeah?” Jonny asks, settling into the bed and looking up at Patrick.
“This is— you like me,” Patrick finally says and then rolls his eyes at himself. “Like me like me?”
Jonny laughs softly. “Yeah. I don’t get how this isn’t obvious to you. I thought— I mean, even before we kissed, I thought you knew.” His face changes from the smug, satisfied look he’s worn since they kissed downstairs to something that flickers with a little doubt. “We hung out so much during playoffs. And when you were hurt— it just seemed. Different.”
Patrick nods. “Yeah.”
“Felt like we were on the same page until you stopped texting me back,” Jonny says.
Patrick takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He climbs into the bed next to Jonny. He’s on the wrong side, which is something he’ll poke at later. “I got, I don’t know. It just felt like there was a lot to lose.”
Jonny watches him as Patrick turns onto his side.
“Plus,” Patrick says and bunches the pillow up beneath his head, “I’ve seen how you are with people you go out with. You’re all confident and bold and stuff. I figured if you weren’t trying anything else maybe it wasn’t something you wanted to do again.”
Jonny swallows and reaches out and runs his fingers down Patrick’s arm. “I don’t want to make it hard.”
Patrick grins, and Jonny rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Patrick does, but he still cackles because he’s 12.
“Everything else is hard,” he says and then shoots Patrick a warning look. “But you and I haven’t been hard for a long time—shut up, Kaner!—”
Patrick rolls over onto his back. “Dude, just,” he giggles uncontrollably. “Choose a different word or something.”
Jonny pushes at him and makes disapproving noises. He finally situates himself on top of Patrick, which is a much more effective attention-getter. “Difficult? That better?”
Patrick nods because Jonny on top of him is… yeah. He’s so solid. And the way he’s looking down at Patrick. “Sorry,” Patrick says and grins up at him. “I’ll shut up.”
Jonny rolls his eyes. “This hasn’t been difficult,” he says and gives Patrick another warning look, “for a long time. You’re like the part of things that makes sense to me. So.”
Patrick swallows and lets his fingers travel up Jonny’s sides. His skin is smooth, and Patrick gets kind of distracted mapping out the muscles of Jonny’s back.
“Peeks,” Jonny prods, looking a little vulnerable.
“Oh right,” Patrick says with a smile. “Dude, I don’t even remember when I stopped hating you. I’ve been thinking about that since we kissed. Like one minute you drove me crazy, and I wanted to smother you in your sleep and the next you’re one of my best friends. And then, like, you’re bringing me burritos and gross vegetable juice and taking care of me and then we’re kissing. I wasn’t paying attention to all the transitions I guess.” He drags his fingers up and down Jonny’s back. “I like you best,” he says finally, because he doesn’t know how to gather everything he’s feeling up neatly and hand it to Jonny. “You’re my favorite non-relative.”
Jonny huffs out a laugh. “You’re related to a lot of people,” he says and leans down and kisses Patrick gently. “That feels like less of a compliment than you might mean it to be.”
“So needy,” Patrick says dramatically. “I want to keep kissing you in sweaty hallways and like maybe visit Canada this summer and watch you wakeboard in a less polluted lake. And try out a bunch of dick-on-dick stuff I’ve been researching in my spare time.”
Jonny closes his eyes and laughs and buries his head in the crook of Patrick’s neck. “You are embarrassing.”
Patrick grins and sticks the tips of his fingers down the back of Jonny’s underwear.
“Does it have to wait for Canada?” Jonny asks, looking up at him finally.
“No,” Patrick says. “I have no idea if my dick even works in Canada,” he says dramatically. “But it does have to wait until my five and seven year-old cousins aren’t in the room right next to us. Boner killer.”
“That’s weird,” Jonny says lifting his body up off of Patrick’s. “It doesn’t feel like a boner killer.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Dude,” he hisses.
Jonny laughs. “Yeah okay,” he says, like Patrick’s embarrassment is cute. But he grinds his dick down against Patrick’s for good measure.
“Fuuuuuck,” Patrick says and lets his head flop back against his pillow. “Jonny.” He tightens his grip around Jonny’s back.
“Pat,” Jonny says. “We’ll be real quiet,” he promises.
“Yeah,” Patrick agrees, because who’s he kidding anyway?
Jonny sits back on Patrick’s thighs and looks down at him with a smile. He pushes Patrick’s t-shirt up and then drags his fingers down his chest and stomach. He flicks a thumb over Patrick’s nipple and then smiles his sort of lop-sided smile when Patrick twitches in response. “I don’t know where to start,” he says finally, continuing to run his hands all over Patrick’s torso.
Patrick props himself up on his elbows and looks up at Jonny. “Like… we should stop and look it up on the internet? Or—”
Jonny laughs. “No. Like. Been thinkin’ about this for awhile, is all.”
Patrick smiles and pulls him down. “Just, c’mere,” he says as he smashes his lips against Jonny’s. “I don’t care what we do,” he says, and that’s the truth. He just wants to be close to Jonny, and getting off would be a bonus.
So that’s how it happens that Jonny and Patrick’s first sexual encounter is essentially similar to the first time he made out with anyone in a horizontal position. Lots of kissing and touching and kind of embarrassing dry humping. Patrick even says something to that effect and Jonny grunts disapprovingly.
“Not sayin’ in a bad way,” Patrick says as he kisses Jonny’s neck, rubbing his nose across his skin. “Just— like I don’t entirely know what I’m doing and touching’s kind of amazing.” Usually when he’s in this sort of position he feels the pressure of being Patrick Kane, like he’s supposed to be impressive somehow. And like if he doesn’t make it mind-blowing and perfect his sexual Yelp review will be bad. With Jonny, it’s not that he doesn’t want it to be good. It’s that he doesn’t feel like it can be wrong somehow. But he doesn’t really know how to say that.
“Cause I can blow your mind,” Jonny keeps protesting as Patrick flips him over onto his back and kisses down his chest. He rolls his eyes and looks up at Jonny.
“Yeah,” he agrees condescendingly. “You’re a sex rock star. Now shush.”
Jonny runs his fingers through Patrick’s hair and sighs happily as Patrick licks down the cut of his hip.
“I’ve never blown a dude before,” Patrick says thoughtfully, looking at Jonny’s tented underwear and the little wet spot that’s formed where the tip is straining against the cotton. “I might be bad at it.” He doesn’t think he will be, really. But it’s kind of daunting regardless.
Jonny laughs. “This is, like, already the weirdest sexual experience of my life.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” Patrick asks, genuinely curious. Because for him so far it’s weird in a good way. Weird because he feels like he can just enjoy himself, like he wants Jonny to enjoy himself too, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to miss out on future chances if he doesn’t porn star deep throat Jonny on the first try or something. Jonny will, undoubtedly chirp him if he’s awful at it, so he does run through his favorite blow job characteristics in his head before he tugs at Jonny’s underwear and watches mesmerized as his dick pops free.
“Good way,” Jonny answers the question Patrick had forgotten he’d asked. He’s watching Patrick with amusement. “Just don’t bite it off, and I think we’ll be okay.”
Patrick laughs and rests his head on Jonny’s hip, which has the effect of making it seem like he’s nuzzling Jonny’s dick. “Now all I can think about is teeth,” Patrick jokes. “Maybe I should get a mouth guard just in case.”
Jonny makes a frustrated noise. “Touch me dummy,” he says and tightens his grip in Patrick’s hair.
“Bossy. Your dick is bossy,” Patrick amends and moves closer to it, keeping his eye on it for sudden movements. “Hi,” he says to it, mostly just to make Jonny laugh.
He does. “I swear to god, Kaner—”
Patrick smiles and then lifts his head so he can lick an experimental stripe up Jonny’s dick. It has the double benefit of shutting Jonny up and making him groan in a way that makes Patrick’s dick jump. A beautiful cycle of dick happiness.
He wraps his mouth around the head of Jonny’s dick, which is bigger and thicker than he’d thought (although he’d never seen it hard, so that makes sense) and gives it a suck. Another dick jumping groan from Jonny accompanies that but louder this time.
“Dude,” Patrick admonishes pulling off of him. “We talked about you being quiet. That is not quiet.”
“Sorry,” Jonny says and actually sounds contrite. “Save your loud sex for Canada,” Patrick says and then wraps his mouth back around Jonny and tries to slide down his dick a little farther this time. Porn makes this look easier than it is. He spends a couple of seconds wondering if BJ porn is CGI’d, because no way is he taking Jonny in until his nose touches Jonny’s pubic bone. I mean. Honestly.
“Stop thinking,” Jonny says and curls his hand around Patrick’s neck.
Patrick rolls his eyes at him and wants to pull off to tell him there’s no way anyone can tell when anyone else is thinking an excessive amount. Unless Jonny is some sort of wizard. And if he is a wizard and he’s just now getting around to exposing his wizardry, Patrick is going to be super pissed. But he feels like he has a decent rhythm going with his mouth and his hand working in a sort of bumbling coordination, and he’s honestly not positive he’d get that rhythm back if he pulled off only for snark.
He gives what he hopes is a “points for enthusiasm” beginner-grade blow job that’s kind of messy and all over the place. But who gets that shit perfect on their first try? Plus, Jonny does a lot of groaning (and then apologizing for groaning shortly thereafter) throughout. There’s a lot of Jonny’s big hands petting Patrick and rubbing his neck and his cheek and his head, and that honestly might be Patrick’s favorite part. Because dicks taste exactly like you’d think a dick would taste. Not bad necessarily, but it’s not exactly a lollipop either. Porn lied to him there too.
There’s also a lot of breathy words and moans and stuff that out of context would be hilarious, but in this moment they’re part of the dick happiness cycle that’s making him want to hump the bed.
When Jonny comes there’s not a lot of warning, or at least Patrick doesn’t realize until almost too late that that’s what Jonny was trying to do, since there’d been a lot of tugging on Patrick’s hair throughout. But he pulls off just in time to get a face full of spunk, and really he’s pretty sure he would’ve rather attempted to swallow than that.
“Dude,” Patrick says and sits back, wiping his face with his finger tips. “It got in my eyelashes.”
Jonny grins at him dopily, and runs his hands over the parts of Patrick he can reach. “Sorry,” he says lazily. He doesn’t sound sorry, though. And he looks a little proud of himself.
Patrick hates how much he likes how much Jonny likes that. He leans over him and wipes his dirty cheek on Jonny’s chest.
Jonny laughs and pats Patrick’s head clumsily. “’s good, Peeks.”
Patrick looks up at him. “Yeah?”
“‘course,” he says and rubs his thumb against Patrick’s lips.
Patrick kind of wants to run the tape and analyze the play, but he’s also hard and aching now, and he’s going to need Jonny to do something about it or at least give him a thigh to rub off on in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
“C’mere,” Jonny says and pulls Patrick up so they can kiss. He shoves his hand down the front of Patrick’s underwear and strokes Patrick’s dick while they make out.
Patrick’s so keyed up it’s going to be quick, which is probably embarrassing. But Jonny’s hand is big and feels so good wrapped around him. He drops his head down onto Jonny’s shoulder and moans as quietly as he can as Jonny twists his wrist.
“Fuck,” Patrick breathes out as he gets closer. “Get your face down there so I can get jizz all over it,” he bites out against Jonny’s chest.
Jonny laughs. “Yeah, next time maybe,” he says and changes his grip. Patrick wishes he could see because Jonny’s kind of good at this. That feels like something they should revisit. But instead he licks at Jonny’s neck and says nonsense stuff and comes over Jonny’s hand and inside his own underwear.
They lie there breathing heavily and not saying much, just kissing a little bit here and there. Patrick finally sits up. “I need to take a shower,” he says, shifting in his messy underwear.
Jonny smiles up at him smugly. “Yeah,” Patrick says. “Pretty proud of yourself aren’t you?”
Jonny stretches obscenely. Still naked, still perfect. He doesn’t say anything, just curls around Patrick’s pillow and mumbles something into it that sounds like “hurry back.”
**
Patrick wakes up with his face smashed against Jonny’s armpit. Jonny is apparently just as possessive with the touching while he sleeps as he is while he’s awake. He’s got Patrick cradled into his body somehow, legs wrapped around him. He’s big and heavy and Patrick needs to pee.
“Tazer,” Patrick says squirming around.
Jonny grunts and tightens his grip.
Patrick pokes him. “Let me up,” he says. “Need to pee.”
Jonny grumbles and lets Patrick slide out from under him. When he’s walking back to the bed he hears Brian’s voice right outside the bedroom door.
“How come Jonny’s allowedta sleep in Patrick’s room, and you said I hadta sleep with Jake,” he grouses and the door knob rattles.
He hears his cousin Amy move quickly toward the door. “Brian,” she says, trying to keep her voice down. “They’re sleeping.”
“Yeah but I wanna be in there too,” Brian says. “Jonny ’n me are best friends now.”
Patrick grins. He covers Jonny up with the quilt and glances around the room to make sure nothing looks too incriminating. He’s wearing boxers, so he opens the door a crack and looks down at Brian and Amy.
“Patrick!” Brian says excitedly. “Jonny prolly wants me to hang out with you guys,” he says with little kid authority.
Patrick laughs softly. “He’s sleeping, bud,” he whispers. “Can we play with you in a little while?”
“Yeah, but, mom says we have to leave soon,” Brian says mournfully.
Patrick smiles. “Okay just a second.” He gives his cousin an apologetic look which he hopes she’ll understand is “please let me make sure he’s okay with this and has clothes on before I let your kid in here.”
“Jon,” Patrick says nudging Jonny in the side with his knee.
Jonny grunts and reaches out for Patrick, pulling him down on top of him.
“Brian wants to come in and see you before they leave,” Patrick says gently. It’s 10:00 am, so it’s not like it’s the crack of dawn. Patrick doesn’t feel that badly about waking him up.
Jonny makes an annoyed noise. “’s early.”
“It’s not though,” Patrick says. “We can go back to bed later. But he’ll be kind of disappointed if we don’t get up now.”
Jonny’s eyes pop open at the mention of possibly disappointing someone. Like his inner Canadian woke up and realized the potential for rudeness was nigh. He blinks up at Patrick. “Hi,” he says. He looks so dopey and sleepy, and Patrick just wants to curl around him and make everyone else go away.
“Put your pants on, Taze, okay?” He tosses a pair of sweatpants to Jonny out of the bag he’d dragged in with him the night before.
Jonny sits up, still looking confused. He stares down at the pants in his lap like he’s trying to remember how pants work.
“Patrick,” Brian calls through the door. “‘member how Jonny wants to see me,” he says plaintively.
Patrick gives Jonny a meaningful look. “Pants.”
Jonny stands up and pulls the pants on, nearly falling over a couple of times. Patrick pulls a pair on too and then opens the door.
Brian barrels in and jumps on the bed where Jonny is sitting. “Jonny!”
“Hey buddy,” he says, voice thick with sleep.
Amy shoots them a look that seems somehow simultaneously contrite and also gloaty and like she’s going to make a huge deal out of this when her kid isn’t around. Basically a Kane specialty look. “Sorry,” she says to Jonny.
He nods at her and smiles at Brian. “Did you eat?” he asks.
“Mom made pancakes,” he says, scooting close to Jonny. “You come down and eat with us?”
Jonny nods. “Sure bud,” he says.
His hair is sticking up all over, and he’s still not wearing a shirt. But whatever, small victories with the pants and all that.
They enter the kitchen to find Jake, Michael, Jackie, Jessica and Erica all at the table. The adults are looking at Patrick and Jonny like they know everything, and Patrick feels his face flush.
“I thought you two went home,” Patrick says pointing at Jess and Erica.
“We did,” they say in unison.
“Came back for breakfast,” Erica says. “Jackie called and said we might be interested in being here.”
“I hate everyone in this room not named Jake and Brian,” Patrick says sweetly.
“Hey,” Jonny says from behind him.
Patrick huffs out a laugh. “Or Jonny. I don’t hate him either.”
“I betcha don’t,” Jackie says and grins at them.
Amy saves them like the true adult she is. “There’s coffee and pancakes and bacon. And juice.”
They all pile food on their plates and then settle in at the table.
“Did they have fireworks where you were last night?” Jake asks shyly.
Patrick smiles around a bite of pancake. “Yep.”
“Brian fell asleep,” Jake says accusatorially.
“Did not!” Brian says sitting up straighter.
Amy gives them a look. “Don’t fight at the table.” She turns to Jake. “Brian saw the beginning, Jake.”
Brian narrows his eyes at his brother.
“Where were your fireworks?” Jake asks. Patrick’s pretty sure this is the first year he’s managed to stay awake for the whole show, but he’s clearly now an expert.
“By where the Sabres play downtown,” Patrick says. He’s not sure if he should mention they watched from the boat. Brian might pass out from jealousy.
“Ours were probably better,” Jake says knowingly.
“You think?”
“Did you do sparklers?” Jake asks.
“I did a sparkler!” Brian says excitedly. “Did you do a sparkler Jonny?”
Jonny huffs out a laugh. “I didn’t.”
Jake gives them a look like that settles it.
“You’re right,” Patrick says with his hands up. “You win.”
“Where do you live, Jonny?” Brian asks abruptly. He takes a big gulp of orange juice.
Jonny laughs. “Canada.”
“Canada is close,” Brian says. “We live near Canada.”
Jonny nods. “I was just telling Patrick he’s practically Canadian.”
“You’re Cana- Canadan?”
Jonny smiles. “Yep. Canadian. My family lives in Winnipeg. Which is not that close to here.”
“Oh,” Brian says sadly.
Patrick can hardly handle how cute Brian’s little crush on Jonny is.
“But I live in Chicago with Patrick for most of the year,” Jonny amends, like that’s somehow throwing Brian a bone.
“You live with Patrick in the tower?” Brian asks, wiping his mouth after another big swig of juice.
“Not with Patrick,” Jonny corrects. “I mean I live in Chicago too. Which is where the big tower that Patrick lives in is. I have a house that’s not in a tower.”
“Oh,” Brian says. “Well, maybe someday you'll get a tower too.”
Patrick laughs. “Yeah, Jonny. Maybe someday.” Kid-logic doesn’t understand that Patrick’s (admittedly very nice) condo could fit in the first floor of Jonny’s four story house.
Jonny gives Patrick a look and then turns to Brian. “Maybe you should come visit sometime.”
“Oh man,” he says excitedly. “Mom. Can I go see Jonny?”
Amy laughs. “I think if anyone goes to Chicago we’ll all go,” she says.
“That would be so fun,” Brian says to Jonny conspiratorially. “And you’re Patrick’s boss, right?”
“Ha!” Patrick says loudly.
Jonny swallows his bite and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I’m the captain of the team. And Patrick’s on the team. So.” He waves his hand like that answers everything.
“Yeah. You’re the boss,” Brian agrees.
Jackie, through all of this, is dying.
“He’s not my boss,” Patrick says, because it feels important to make sure everyone remembers that.
Everyone laughs, and Jonny gives him a look that is both super hot and kind of infuriating. Patrick needs to figure out why those two things reside so closely together for him.
“Since I’m the boss,” Jonny says pressing on, “If you come visit we can take you on a tour of the United Center where we play hockey. And you can meet the other players and stuff.”
Brian takes a deep breath like it’s too much for him to think about all at once. “You’re the boss,” he says quietly. “But Patrick’s the best, right?”
Jonny grins, and his eyes crinkle up at the corners. “Patrick’s the best, for sure.” He squeezes Patrick’s leg under the table.
“Thought so,” Brian says, world view still intact.
Amy gives them both a pleading sort of look. “That would be fun,” she says carefully. “But Brian they play during the school year, so it may not happen for awhile, okay?”
“You gotta be good,” Patrick says, trying to help. “And then we’ll see.”
Brian and Jake look at each other. “We can be good,” they say in unison.
Everyone laughs because they know better.
“That’s nice of you though,” Amy says and looks across at her husband Michael who nods. “Sometime it would be fun to visit.”
After breakfast Brian drags Jonny into the family room and takes all of his cars out of their carrying case and lines them up and tells Jonny about them. Patrick helps his sisters clean up, but mostly just watches Jonny.
“You’re going to tell me all about this sometime soon,” Jackie says putting her head on Patrick’s shoulder.
He groans and tries to move away from her, but she clamps her arms around his waist and squeezes. “Patty,” she says quietly. “You talked, I take it?”
Patrick shrugs. “Sort of,” he says and then blushes.
She squeezes tighter. “Gross,” she says fondly. “But also that’s good. I’m happy for you.”
Patrick nods. He’s still not entirely sure what they’re doing. But it seems like it’s good.
“You should always listen to me,” she says smugly.
“You had nothing to do with this!” Patrick says, voice rising.
“Whatever,” she says and lets go of him. “I told you he liked you. I told you you were dumb.”
“You tell me I’m dumb, like, constantly,” he says rolling his eyes. “That wasn’t new information.”
She laughs and pushes him toward the family room. He moves toward Jonny kind of helplessly. When he gets closer he can hear Jonny asking Brian and Jake questions about their cars.
“I’ve got a Tesla,” Jonny says when Jake asks him what kind of car he drives.
“Oh those are ‘spensive my dad says,” Jake says.
Patrick laughs and sits down on the floor with them. “You have to plug a Tesla in, Jakey.”
“You drive plugged in?” Brian stage whispers. “How far can you go?”
Jonny smiles and pushes the Mercedes toward Jake. “You don’t keep it plugged in. You plug it in at home and it charges the battery. Sort of like a cell phone.”
“Oh,” Brian says and then looks down at his cars.
“How do other cars work?”
“They run on gas,” Jonny says. “Which does stuff in the engine that I don’t totally understand, bud.” He ruffles Brian’s hair. “Your dad might though, so ask him.” He looks up at Michael who is watching them and cringes.
“Yeah, my dad knows most stuff,” Brian says.
Thankfully no one has to try to explain an internal combustion engine to kids, and the rest of the car play time involves lining them up in order of color. And then lining them up in order of “fastness” and then lining them up in the order of “coolness.” And then there’s an argument between Jake and Brian about which car is best, which ends in Amy telling them to go brush their teeth because it’s time to go home.
“Thanks for letting us stay last night,” she says as she’s waiting for the kids to come back downstairs. “No problem,” Patrick says easily. “And seriously. If you guys want to come to Chicago we can make that happen.” He never knows how to broach the whole ‘I have the money to fly you to Chicago if you want to come so don’t be weird about this’ conversation with people. The ironic thing Patrick’s discovered is that the people he wants to do nice things for are usually much more embarrassed and hard to convince than the people who he’s ambivalent about. He can always find someone who’ll let him pick up the bill at a club or go on a vacation with him if he needs company. But the people he feels the most comfortable around are usually the ones saying stuff like, “You don’t have to pay all the time. That’s not fair.” That’s a nice sentiment, and Patrick appreciates the acknowledgement, but what else is he going to do with his money?
She nods though and thanks him. “We’ll think about it and look at the boys’ schedule once they’re back in school.”
“Sounds good,” he says and then drops it.
“Thanks for spending time with them and stuff,” she says and squeezes his arm. “Yesterday in the pool and taking them out on the boat. They didn’t stop talking about that all evening.”
“Well, that was all Jonny,” Patrick says truthfully. He’s the one that took the time with the kids, listened to them, played whatever games they wanted to play. He’s the one Brian is obsessed with, and there’s a reason for that. Patrick remembers the picture he took on the boat of Brian and Jonny. “I’m sending you a picture of them on the boat yesterday,” he says and texts it to her. “Your kids are fun. Good job with that,” he jokes.
Amy was a couple grades ahead of him in school, and she was always nice to him, let him tag along with her friends even when they were annoyed with his presence. Their lives obviously took very different paths. She might only be three years older than him, but she’s a wife and a mother. She seems so responsible and grown up. Patrick still feels like a kid a lot of the time. Watching her with her family makes him realize how different things could be if he wanted them to be. And how maybe that wouldn’t be a horrible thing. To be the one reminding kids to brush their teeth and breaking up toy car fights and making sure everyone remembers to zip up their jackets.
Amy hugs him. “The party was fun. Jonny’s great,” she says quietly. “Good job with that too.”
Patrick laughs. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admits.
“Well,” she says conspiratorially as her husband buckles the kids into their carseats. “I learned a long time ago that no one really knows what they’re doing. We always thought our parents knew everything because they seemed so sure, right?”
Patrick nods. He’s still convinced his parents have some extra knowledge boost in their game pack that he didn’t get. He hasn’t leveled up to that yet.
She laughs. “Well, they didn’t. They just said things and hoped they were true. Fake it til you make it,” she says and squeezes his hand. “If you wait to have everything all figured out ahead of time, you’ll be waiting forever. That’s the mom-lesson I’ve learned.”
Quick hugs and goodbyes are exchanged. Brian elicits a very specific promise from Jonny to email him once a week “and send a picture of cool stuff sometimes.” Jonny nods solemnly and promises he will.
Mercifully Patrick’s sisters leave awhile after that. But not before being generally embarrassing and dropping lots of innuendo-filled hints. Patrick realizes just how much restraint they’d shown over the previous couple of days once they start saying everything they had apparently been holding back.
“Go somewhere else,” he says finally.
They laugh and Jessica grasps his shoulders. “We’re just happy you’re happy, Patty,” she says sincerely.
“Yeah, well, your happiness is annoying,” Patrick mumbles, and Jonny laughs behind them.
“We’ll go,” Erica says. “We promised we’d help mom get their house put back together.”
Patrick shoots her a grateful look.
True to her word, Erica herds them out the door within the next several minutes, and then it’s just Jonny and Patrick in the house again.
Jonny grins at him across the family room. “You said we could go back to bed,” he says.
Patrick bites his lip. “I did say that.”
Jonny smirks at him and jerks his head toward the stairs. “C’mon Peeks.”
Patrick follows Jonny’s strong back helplessly. He tried to ignore all of Jonny’s half-nakedness while they were sitting at the breakfast table and while there were kids around. But now… he can’t help but watch as Jonny’s back shifts as he climbs the stairs. And then there’s the matter of his ass in those sweatpants.
“My ass feels you staring at it,” Jonny says without turning around.
Patrick barks out a laugh. The wizard theory gets another piece of evidence. “Your ass is super arrogant,” he says and reaches out and smacks Jonny’s butt. “It’s the only place to look. It fills my entire field of vision.”
Jonny makes a derpy face at him when he reaches the top of the stairs. “Hilarious.”
When they get to Patrick’s room, they stop and stare at each other, like they’ve both suddenly remembered this is possibly awkward. Patrick rolls his eyes and pulls his shirt off.
Jonny sits on the edge of the bed, reclined back onto his elbows. It makes him look like he’s posing for an abdominal exercises magazine or something.
“Jesus, Taze,” Patrick says, whistling low. “Put it away.”
Jonny smirks at him. “Really?”
“No,” Patrick says and looks down at his feet. “Just. You. And the” he waves his hand around indicating Jonny’s stomach, “and your skin and how it’s” another hand motion that hopefully conveys velvety smooth and glowing so Patrick doesn’t have to sound like a grandmother. “And how you’re all, like,” he harrumphs in frustration because words aren’t his friend in this moment. “It’s just a lot.”
Jonny laughs. “Your vocabulary is staggering.”
Patrick pushes him over and straddles his thighs. “Shut up.”
Jonny smiles up at him, and it’s so fond it makes Patrick’s chest ache. “How long are you staying?” Patrick blurts out instead of whatever else would’ve made more sense in the moment.
“Uh,” Jonny says, little crinkle forming in between his eyebrows. “I didn’t— I wasn’t sure. So. Yeah.”
Patrick nods. He wants to tell Jonny he can stay for as long as he wants, but he’s still not entirely sure what they’re doing. He tends to get attached pretty easily, get wrapped up in someone without meaning to.
“I can go, uh, tomorrow, if you have stuff you need to do,” Jonny says carefully, voice even.
“No,” Patrick says quickly, propping himself on hands placed on either side of Jonny’s head. “I mean, if you need to go, or whatever. But you can, you should stay. Some. Until you can’t.”
Jonny reaches up and cups Patrick’s face with his hand. “Okay,” he says and then surges up and kisses him.
**
Later, Patrick’s lying with his face smushed into Jonny’s chest. “What else do you want to do while you’re here?”
“Take the boat out again?”
Patrick nods against him. “Sure. What else?”
“Uhh,” Jonny says and wraps his hand around the back of Patrick’s neck. It’s a very possessive gesture, and something he’s done for a long time. But somehow now that they’re naked it feels even… more. “I’ve never been to Niagara Falls,” he says finally.
“Really?” Patrick asks and tries to lift his head up to see Jonny’s face.
“Well,” Jonny amends. “Not like stopping and paying attention to it. We may have driven through at some point. But—“
Patrick smiles against Jonny’s chest. “Sure,” he says easily. “That’s not too far away. We could do that.”
“And I do want you to come to Canada,” he says quietly. “To Winnipeg and to the cottage.”
Patrick’s stomach clenches. When Patrick had said that the night before he’d meant it more as a declaration of intent. An “I like you so much I’d even go to Canada for you” sort of thing. And Jonny hadn’t really said much about it, but they were a little distracted at the time. But still, in the light of day he feels embarrassed he basically invited himself to Jonny’s. So he’s relieved to hear that it’s actually something Jonny wants.
“Yeah? When?”
“Whenever you can,” Jonny says and rubs his thumb against the back of Patrick’s neck.
Patrick kisses the skin closest to him and nods. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Jonny says, like he’s surprised. Like he expected Patrick to resist it once it was out there as a real invitation.
“You spent Fourth of July in America. You earned some Canada time I think,” Patrick jokes.
Jonny squeezes his neck again and then trails his fingers down Patrick’s back. They lie like that for several minutes and then Jonny reaches for the remote. He flips around until he lands on something on HGTV.
“It’s like watching TV with Jackie,” Patrick groans.
Jonny laughs and pinches his side. “It’s a show about tiny houses,” he says like that explains something.
“Tiny houses?”
“You know,” Jonny says. “How people are buying those little houses on wheels and downsizing?”
“Trailer homes?” Patrick asks, because that’s not a new concept.
“No,” Jonny says. “Look. Smaller.”
Patrick watches as a couple declares they want to live in a “tiny home” and then follow a realtor into something the size of his SUV. “That’s not a house,” Patrick says. “That’s a mode of transportation. What the fuck?”
Jonny laughs. “It’s a thing,” he says. “People are trying to be more mindful of resources.”
“By living in a car?” Patrick can’t believe this is an actual show. It’s a cute little trailer, but it’s literally the size of a small walk-in closet. And two people are going to live in that together. The toilet is like three feet from the stove. The whole thing concerns Patrick.
“I’ve thought of getting one,” Jonny says defensively.
“Why?”
“I like the idea of it,” Jonny says and pokes Patrick.
Patrick watches the couple bicker about closet space. “If they want closet space, maybe 150 square feet isn’t for them.”
Jonny laughs. “I don’t think I’d want to live with someone else in a tiny home,” he admits.
“So where would you put your tiny home? The garage of your Chicago house? Make your brother stay in that when he visits?”
“That’s a solid plan,” Jonny says, fingers trailing up and down Patrick’s back.
The wife on the TV show is expressing the wish for a bath tub. “A BATH TUB?” Patrick says and struggles against Jonny’s grasp. He feels like he needs to be sitting up. “A bathtub? This woman wants to live in a normal-sized house.” He sighs. “I give this marriage a year.”
Jonny huffs amusement. “Or the small space will bring them together.”
“Physically, it will bring them closer together because they’ll never be away from each other,” Patrick says.
“I’m going to buy a tiny house and take it back to Chicago,” Jonny declares. “And when teammates have issues with each other I’m going to make them live in it together for a week.”
“Ha!” Patrick says. “I wanna be there when you explain that one.”
Jonny doesn’t say anything in response but pulls Patrick back down so they’re touching again.
“Maybe the tiny house can be where you live all season,” Patrick says after another few minutes of watching the couple say dumb stuff about small spaces. “You live in there and every few days a new teammate has to live with you.”
“So just me and random teammates sharing that tiny loft bed area?” Jonny teases.
Patrick narrows his eyes. “I’ll go first.”
Jonny laughs. “I don’t want to share a tiny home with Shawsy.”
Patrick groans. “Lord. No.”
“Or Duncs,” Jonny adds. “And I’ve lived with Seabs. I don’t want to be that close to Seabs and the bathroom.”
Patrick grins and turns his face into Jonny’s chest. “Yeah, horrible idea,” he says.
The couple chooses the wrong tiny home, in Patrick’s opinion. It’s the smallest of the three, and neither of them seem to be that excited about it. More resigned to their tiny fate.
**
Later that afternoon they take the boat out. Jackie is home by that point and comes along. Jonny gives Patrick tips on how to drive the boat and pull a wakeboarder, including the art of something he keeps calling “wake management.” Once he’s satisfied Patrick understands the basics he proceeds to show off and does a bunch of tricks and YouTube-worthy moves that make Patrick want to jump over the side of the boat and climb him like a tree. A tree standing on a board in water. Semi-disgusting water Patrick still isn’t sure about, regardless of what the water quality website said about the safety of the lake that day.
But someone has to drive the boat, and Jackie seems to be enjoying both watching Jonny (because come on, he’s gorgeous) and making fun of Patrick for being a novice boat driver—captain—whatever.
“Your turn,” Jonny says when he finally climbs back into the boat. He’s dripping wet and drapes himself around Patrick.
Patrick squirms around under Jonny’s cold, wet skin. “I don’t think so.”
“C’mon Patty,” Jackie says watching them with a calculated sort of delight.
“Maybe you should do it,” Patrick counters and raises an eyebrow at her.
“My top will come off,” Jackie says and adjusts her bikini. “I’m not dressed properly.”
Patrick rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. He doesn’t really want to have to deal with that either, or shield Jonny from looking at his sister’s boobs. Awkward.
“Fine,” he huffs. He eyes the water suspiciously.
“Just close your mouth when you wipe out,” Jonny says with a smirk.
Patrick glares at him. “Yeah okay,” he grouses. He actually does want to learn to wakeboard. It looks fun, and he did buy the boat after all.
Jonny talks him through the mechanics of it: how to let the boat pull him out of the water and keep his balance once he’s up. Jonny makes it look easy, and Patrick’s naturally athletic. How hard could it be?
It turns out it’s hard. Patrick wipes out a few times in a fairly dramatic way. But Jonny is a good teacher, and manages to help Patrick learn from his mistakes. He also manages to keep his laughter to a minimum. He can’t do much to stop Jackie’s though.
“Everyone has to learn sometime,” Jonny says kindly, just a hint of a smirk on his face. And then he shares some tips for how to stop biting it when he tries to fully stand up on the board. “So don’t rush,” he finishes.
“I don’t have too many more falls in me,” Patrick admits and runs his hands through his hair. “Plus I don’t feel like I should stay in this water for much longer. I don’t know what it’s doing to my tender bits.”
Jonny snorts. “I’m sure you’re fine.”
Jackie rolls her eyes. “Water quality is fine today, Patty.”
“Come take a big drink then,” he challenges her and then turns to Jonny. “Alright. One more time.”
He tries to remember all of Jonny’s suggestions, keeps the board under him, doesn’t rush the standing up process, keeps his eyes on the boat and not on his feet. He’s up! He’s doing it! “I’m up!” he calls out loudly. “I’m doing it!” And then he falls. But, he was upright for several seconds longer than his previous attempts.
Jonny circles the boat back around and comes back to help him out of the water. “Looked good,” he says. “ish. Good-ish.”
Patrick laughs. “I’ll get it.” Because he will. He just doesn’t want to do anymore today, and Jonny’s all shirtless and warm and his skin is, like, soaking in the golden light of the sun and becoming some sort of sun-absorbing energy beacon, and Patrick wants to lick him.
“You will,” Jonny agrees and wraps him in a towel and uses the corner to wipe Patrick’s face.
Patrick stutters and rears back. “Hey—”
Jonny grins and leans closer and kisses him. “Didn’t want to do that with the poison lake water all over your face.”
“I knew it!” Patrick scoffs. “I want to take a shower.”
Jonny laughs. “Seems like a good idea,” he says and then wiggles his eyebrows.
“Gross,” Jackie says, and it reminds Patrick that she’s there. “Who here feels personally victimized by Jonny and Patrick?” She looks around the boat and earns consensus from her imaginary friends. “Me. I feel personally victimized by Jonny and Patrick.”
Patrick grins at her and then sticks out his tongue. “Hey,” he says and flops down on the seat closest to her. “You told me to talk to him.”
Jackie squirms away from him. “I told you to talk to him,” she says. “Not make out in front of me.”
Jonny laughs as he coils the tow rope and secures the wakeboard. “Didn’t mean to traumatize you,” he says and gives Patrick a look.
“That’s traumatizing too!” Jackie protests. “That look!” She crosses her arm and sinks back into her seat.
Patrick holds his hand out until Jonny grabs it and comes closer.
He bends down and kisses Patrick chastely. “Don’t be a dick to your sister,” he chides and pulls away, knocking away the hand that Patrick had attached to Jonny’s thigh.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” Jackie sniffs.
Jonny laughs and shakes his head as he starts the boat and heads toward home.
**
Later they’re sitting on the back deck eating supper Jonny and Jackie made. Jonny spotted a farmer’s market earlier, and they all walked down once they showered the lake off of themselves. They bought vegetables and some fresh salsa. There was also a guy selling homemade tortillas and someone else selling cheese.
Supper consists of fajitas made from grilling those vegetables and some chicken breasts Patrick already had in the fridge. He had no idea how Jonny knows how to do that, but he tries not to be too impressed. These days being impressed with Jonny also equals awkward arousal. He shouldn’t find the ability to grill marinated chicken breasts and vegetables sexually appealing. And yet here he is.
They also bought corn, which they rubbed in some sort of cilantro chili butter mixture and then grilled. Patrick was ready to propose to Jonny on the spot.
Patrick’s contribution to supper was to make them margaritas. They are also very good, but not quite as impressive as the rest of their meal.
“Super good,” Patrick says, mouth half full of fajita.
Jonny grins at him and shakes his head.
“I didn’t even know they did a farmer’s market down there,” Jackie enthuses. “You’re changing our lives, Jonny T.”
Jonny just smiles and takes another bite of his food.
“So how long are you here?” Jackie asks after a bit.
Patrick knocks his knee against Jonny’s leg under the table, and they both grin.
Jackie rolls her eyes. “Do I need to move back home?”
Patrick laughs. “Nah,” he says and wipes his mouth with his napkin. “But Tazer’s gonna be here for a few more days. We’re gonna go up to Niagra Falls and stuff.”
“To get married?” She asks with a smirk.
Patrick chokes on a sip of margarita. “Uh, no.”
“I’m kidding,” she says and sits back in her chair. “Well, good. I’ll wear a more sensible swim suit tomorrow, and you can teach me how to wakeboard, yeah?” She nods at Jonny.
He smiles, small but pleased. “Yeah, for sure.”
“Awesome,” she says and tips her glass at him and drinks the rest of her margarita.
They eat the strawberries they bought at the market with whipped cream for dessert. When they’re done Jackie waves off help clearing the table and takes the dishes inside while Patrick and Jonny move over to the outdoor sofa to watch the lake.
The sun is dipping closer to the water, and the sky is a rich array of color. Jonny puts his arm around Patrick’s shoulders and pulls him closer. Patrick leans his head against Jonny.
“I like it here,” Jonny murmurs, lips brushing against Patrick’s forehead.
Patrick smiles against him. “Me too.” He traces the seam of Jonny’s shorts with his fingers. “You can park your tiny home in my yard any time.”
Jonny barks out a surprised laugh. “That better not be a euphemism.”
Patrick laughs and laces his fingers with Jonny’s.
“Nothing tiny about it,” Jonny grumbles, and Patrick bites his shoulder.
**
Jonny stays through the end of the next week, which happens to coincide with the news of Sharpy’s trade. Patrick had started to relax, thinking that maybe the surprise Saad trade meant they’d have enough cap space to keep Sharpy. And Jonny being there meant that he’d been preoccupied with other things. Naked things. Also Niagra Falls tourism things. Learning to wakeboard things. Watching Jonny’s various competencies and attempting to keep his attraction in check things.
“Peeks,” Jonny says after looking up from his phone.
Patrick’s phone is across the room, and he hasn’t wanted to get up to answer the many text notifications he’s received in the last several minutes. His head is pillowed in Jonny’s lap, and they’re watching Teen Wolf.
“Hmm?” Patrick says, completely relaxed, Jonny’s fingers running through his hair.
“Peeks,” Jonny says again, voice gentle in a way that Patrick knows means something big.
He sits up. “Yeah?”
Jonny nods and shows him his phone and the text from Stan.
“Fuck,” Patrick says and lets out a slow breath. He feels like the wind was knocked out of him. He also feels like he’s going to cry. Which is frustrating and also unsurprising.
Jonny wraps his hand around the back of Patrick’s neck and squeezes gently. “I’m sorry.”
Patrick swallows and nods, reading through the series of texts warning Jonny of the trade.
“You wanna call him?” Jonny asks gently.
“Stan?”
Jonny huffs a laugh. “No. Sharpy.”
Patrick shakes his head. He can’t call him yet. Not quite. “Later.”
“Okay,” Jonny says and draws him in a bit until Patrick’s leaning against him.
“Dallas is gonna be fucking obnoxious now,” Patrick mumbles against Jonny’s chest.
Jonny laughs.
“Bad enough with Segs attempting chirps,” Patrick says and wipes the stupid stray tear that found its way out of the corner of his eye. “Now we have to play against Sharpy?” He groans.
He can’t think of all the other implications. He can’t let himself focus on how boring his off-days will be when he’s not hanging out at the Sharp’s house. He can’t think about how much he’ll miss Sharpy’s sweet kids and Abby’s concerned hovering. Sharpy’s not just a teammate. He’s family. And Patrick’s never been good at saying goodbye to family.
Jonny doesn’t say anything else or offer platitudes. He doesn’t make fun of Patrick for being emotional about it. He just keeps him close and turns Teen Wolf up a little so Patrick can sniffle in peace.
“I don’t feel like anyone appreciates Derek,” Jonny says after several long silent minutes.
Patrick grins at the unexpected comment and sits up a little. He hadn’t realized Jonny had actually been paying that much attention to Patrick’s secret Teen Wolf shame. “Oh yeah? Why?”
“He’s just trying to keep all these dumb kids alive,” Jonny says earnestly. “And they’re constantly blaming shit on him that’s not his fault.” Jonny pauses the scene where new werewolf Scott finds the hot wolf Derek chained up and post-torture in the basement, or dungeon, or whatever. “Derek’s like, the captain of Team Teen Wolf. But no one ever listens to him. Stupid shits.”
Patrick grins at him and lets out a surprised laugh. “You haven’t even seen it from the beginning,” he says finally. “You have no idea.”
Jonny nods solemnly. “I believe it. Unacceptable.”
Patrick laughs and lowers head back to Jonny’s lap. “Maybe Derek needs to buy a Team Teen Wolf tiny house he can force Scott to live in with him until they can learn to get along.”
Jonny squeezes Patrick’s neck. “I’d like to live in a tiny home with Derek.”
“That’d be hot,” Patrick says. He’s probably supposed to feel jealous of that, but dammit that’s something he’d like to see. Both because that’s a lot of hot dude in one space. And also because he can’t imagine Derek and Jonny occupying the same space without getting irritated with each other. He thinks it would be pretty humorous.
Jonny laughs. “That’s not what I thought you’d say.”
“Hey,” Patrick says seriously. “If picturing you with a fictional character who happens to also be a mythological creature is wrong, I don’t want to be right.”
Jonny rolls his eyes and hits “play” again.
“Run away, Derek,” he mumbles, sinking his fingers into Patrick’s hair again. “Come to Chicago where you’ll be appreciated.”
Patrick smiles, face pressed into Jonny’s mammoth thigh. His heart still feels heavy. It will take awhile for the news of Sharpy’s trade to fully sink in. But it’s easier knowing that Jonny’s here, that he’s not going anywhere.
**
“Wait,” Patrick says scanning the Blackhawks Convention panel schedule. “Why aren’t we on a panel together? This is horse shit.”
“I think they’re trying to let the dancing thing die.”
It’s a few days later. Jonny’s back in Winnipeg for his cup day and getting some sort of Order of the Canadian Fake Awards, Manitoba Edition thing.
“And when you say ‘they’ you mean you want to let the dancing thing die,” Patrick corrects. Because Patrick has sweet moves, and Jonny’s move is stealing someone else’s dated move.
“Sure, Kaner,” Jonny says condescendingly. “Also, Meghan thinks if we’re on the same panel everyone will know we’re together.”
It had been Jonny’s idea to let the Blackhawks front office know they were whatever they are now. Boyfriends? That sounds dumb. Doin’ it? Probably not the way Jonny described it. Together. Biblically. Whatever.
They aren’t going to announce it to the world, but it seems dumb to try to keep it from the team, and Jonny felt it was the responsible thing to do to let them know it’s possible they’ll come out to the public at some point in the distant future.
“Are we offended by that?” Patrick asks carefully. Because he’s not ready for the world to know either. He felt like telling the team was jumping the gun a bit at this point. But Jonny’s the boss, according to Brian, so Patrick let him make that call.
“Not offended,” Jonny says. “But they’re probably right. And anyway, this means we don’t have to do the dumb dance off.”
“I knew you were scared!”
“Not scared at all,” Jonny clarifies. “Plus without Sharpy, Duncs, Seabs and Crow they’re probably trying to spread the core out a bit.”
Patrick sighs. He’s never done a convention without Sharpy. Sharpy lives for this sort of thing. He took the heat off the guys who stressed out over answering panel questions and getting bombarded by fans. But Sharpy’s not on the team anymore. Patrick’s still getting used to that.
“When are you getting in?” Jonny asks after a few beats.
“Thursday night,” Patrick says. It’s only been a few days since Jonny was in Buffalo, but Patrick stupidly misses him. Once they figured out they wanted to try dating and Patrick could take deep breaths again it was easy to admit to himself just how much he wanted to be around Jonny. How much he actually does think about him. How much he likes to be close to him. He might not be ready to admit all that out loud, at least not the degree or intensity of it, but he doesn’t mind that the feeling exists.
“Me too,” Jonny says, and Patrick can hear the smile in his voice.
“Erica has to work, but Jess and Jackie are coming with me,” Patrick says. “They want to shop, and there’s a Taylor Swift concert Saturday night so I got tickets for us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, you too,” Patrick says. “I’ll even let you pretend you’re too cool for it as long as you come with.”
Jonny laughs. “Sounds good.”
**
The convention is the same swirl of overwhelming and flattering that it always is. It’s amazing to Patrick that people stand in long lines to listen to them talk about their experiences. He misses Sharpy in a deep and aching sort of way he can’t let himself think about for too long. So he focuses on the dazed looks on the faces of the new guys who had no reference point for what the Blackhawks Convention would be like.
His sisters mostly stay away from the crowds, but they do go to Jonny’s panel and report back on the “fond face” he made when someone asked about the dance off (“fond face” followed by completely throwing Patrick under the bus, but whatever).
The best part of the weekend by far, however, is the Taylor Swift concert with his sisters and Jonny. T Swift is a Kane siblings staple. She features heavily on the “Kanes Can” hype mix, and Patrick knows almost every song off her last two albums by heart.
It’s a great concert, and Patrick and his sisters sing along for at least half of it. Loudly. Jonny shakes his head and bites back smiles throughout. If he’s embarrassed to be seen with them he doesn’t move away. He stands stoically while Patrick and his sisters provide everyone around them with Twitter fodder for days.
They go to Rockit afterward. Patrick ends up in the DJ booth. He’s too many drinks into the night to remember exactly how that happened, but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with how many songs he kept requesting.
“I’m playing our jam, baby,” Patrick calls over to Jonny, who is hovering nearby, keeping an “older brother” type eye on Jessica and Jackie. Jonny nods at him and grins, but Patrick’s pretty sure he has no idea what Patrick said. It’s loud. They’re drunk. Whatever.
The opening strains of One Direction boom through the speakers. Jonny looks over at him and rolls his eyes. Their differing musical taste is going to continue to be a problem, Patrick suspects. But he figures if he can work his way through Jonny’s vegetable juice and stance against gluten and aversion to milk products, he can handle Jonny’s lack of understanding about the greatness of true artists like One Direction and Taylor Swift.
Jessica and Jackie look over at Patrick and point to him in support of his song choice. They cajole Jonny into dancing with them, surrounding him in a Kane cage and forcing him into enjoying himself. Patrick grins at the sight of three of his very favorite people in the world enjoying each other, even if one of them looks like he’s a little mortified.
Patrick sings along loudly with the chorus. “Everybody wanna steal my girl,” he points to Jonny and winks at him. Jonny rolls his eyes again, and Jackie gives Jonny a disapproving look. “Everybody wanna take her heart away. Couple billion in the whole wide world. Find another one cause she belongs to me.”
His sisters turn toward him and they all point to the sky and sing along loudly to the “I know, I know, I know for sure” part enthusiastically. Patrick smiles at them, heart full, brain a little blurry from the drinks, sweaty because of the dancing and DJ harassment. Patrick is peripherally aware of the phones pointed toward him. He knows someone is probably taking embarrassing video of this moment. And he finds he doesn’t really care.
He’s happy. He’s content in a way he didn’t realize he could be. Video of him having harmless fun, even if it highlights his possible lack of rhythm and his sweaty, slightly drunken face doesn’t bother him. All it shows is that he’s finally letting himself enjoy the things he loves, spending time with the people who matter most.
He watches Jonny. His face is flushed, and he’s grinning at something Jackie and Jess are saying. He’s dancing slightly off-rhythm, but making an effort, not just holding up the wall at the edge of the dance floor like he might normally when they go out like this. Patrick’s sisters love to dance, so Jonny is dancing with them.
Something about that hits Patrick hard. This man he’s known for all of his adult life, who’s been a part of his maturation process, who he thought he hated early on, but mostly just didn’t understand how to connect with him. This man who stood by Patrick while he figured out how to get his shit together, who cared enough to call him on his assholeishness more than once. This man who flew to Buffalo to help Patrick buy a boat and put up with the overwhelming and probably obnoxious patriotism of the Fourth of July in the process, just for Patrick. He’s made a space for himself in Patrick’s life that Patrick didn’t even notice him making until he couldn’t imagine how the future would work without him.
Patrick is happy.
Even in the midst of a time of change and uncertainty, he knows the most important things, the things that matter, won’t change. His family will always be there to keep him humble, to ground him and remind him of who he really is.
And Jonny will be there too, awkwardly dancing along with him to the soundtrack of Patrick’s life, and probably insisting on playing a few tracks of his own. Probably something Canadian, probably horrible. But if they’re Jonny’s, Patrick will probably love them anyway.