Jonny wakes up to his alarm, an empty bed and a text from Kaner that reads, am dyyyyyyying. tell my mom i'm sorry for never giving her canadian grandchildren. It neither makes any sense nor really worries Jon. This is his life now and being a professional hockey player, a captain and maybe someone's boyfriend is mostly a mix of baby sitting and elaborate, metaphorical face offs on and off the ice.
It takes him a minute to wake up enough to want to get out of bed. The house is a little too warm, like someone turned up the heat in the middle of the night—which is probably what happened. Jonny likes to keep his house cool, even in the winter, because he run hot in his sleep. He takes a minute to feel a little disappointed that Kaner didn't find his way to bed last night. It's not like they live together or hell, like they've even talked about what's going on. It's just, most nights, Pat lets himself into Jonny's apartment and crawls into bed with him long after Jonny's already gone to sleep. It started happening once Kaner had returned from Biel, just as PatrickmotherfuckingKane as he'd always been, but more ready—Jonny doesn't really know how to explain it. Everyone likes to say that Pat is just more mature but Jonny thinks that maybe Kaner knows what he wants a little more now. He's still Sharpie's Lil' Peekaboo, partying douchebag with horrible hair and a tendency to go off the rails if he's not herded correctly. So like, Pat hasn't become a pod person since the (goddamn) lockout but there is a drive now that feels important and quieter. He's a little more solid in his head, which obviously translates on the ice, but that maybe the shitshow of his personal life has more to do with going to Biel, spending some time with his family and kissing Jon goodnight.
Yeah. So the last thing happens. Kind of a lot. Just add it to the list of things Jonny isn't questioning because a) they're playing good and sometimes even beautiful (Pat especially) hockey and b) he doesn't want to jinx it. If this is Kaner's way of saying he's ready to win Cups and get their shit together off the ice, then fuck yes, Jon can be ready too.
The point is, last night Jonny went to bed fully expecting to wake up to Pat bitching about Jonny stealing the covers, maybe even quoting rap lyrics only semi-jokingly as romantic pillow talk and ducking in to kiss Jon before he's even really awake.
He's surprised at how disappointed he is that there is no Kaner to be found but now that he thinks about it, there hasn't been many mornings here in Chicago that Pat hasn't been there—here—waking up with Jonny.
Wrestling away that little thought with a frown, Jonny gets out of bed. And, "Jesusfuck it's hot," is the first thing he says when he pulls his briefs back into place and makes his way out of the bedroom. He's on a mission for coffee and some sort of egg-shaped breakfast, already trying to remember if he has any veg in his crisper or not, when he gets distracted.
Because Pat is curled up in the fetal position on the guest bed, fully dressed over the covers and kind of drooling all over his phone.
Jonny would absolutely be lying if he said the sight killed his morning wood.
There is a groan and then a slick sound of Pat trying to suck up his spit and get his tongue back in his mouth. "I'm dyyyyyying, you dick."
Jonny is not proud to admit that his first thought is rage because, they have practice today but then he reminds himself that it's extremely unlikely that Kaner when out and got trashed last night as he was hanging out with Maddy and Abby last night.
"You better not be hungover," but it doesn't come out as stern as he likes. Jonny takes a few steps into the room and his hand twitch. Kaner's curls are matted, clearly from aggressive hat wearing, and Jon's fingers twitch to comb through them. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that Pat's curls are anything but a disgusting, gel web mistake of genetics but he's learning a lot of things about himself this season. Mainly that a Kaner who knows exactly what he wants is not only the Blackhawks biggest weapon but Jon's greatest weakness. As if he wasn't already a goner for Patrick before. It's a fucking joke around here.
"I'm dyyyying," Kaner moans again but Jon's ignoring him, and all the extra syllables, in favor of taking off his shoes. How anyone believes sleeping in their ugly ass tennis shoes is beyond him. Not even Pat's fancy shoes can be that comfortable. Nor are they acceptable bed mates. Hell, Patrick is barely one on a good day.
Pat kicks him.
"Get off," he half mumbles, screaming into the pillow. "Leave me to die in my sickbed."
"You're sick?" He can't help it if he sounds horrified, but on second glance, Kaner's eyes are all glassy, a little more than sleep smudged and the flush on his cheeks looks harsh. Jon ignores the way Pat's flush works in on his own cheeks because now is not the time.
"What do you have?"
Kaner whines. "Don't say it like that. It's not an STD, you fuckface."
"Shut up," Jonny says, a little vicious, as he reaches in to put a hand to Pat's forehead. It's warm but mostly just clammy with sweat. His fingers do not linger on any errant curls. "Is it the flu?"
"Uh, no. I wouldn't have come here if I was contagious. You are such a—" Pat's rant is cut off by a sneeze and a sniff that is so fucking disgusting and yet...
Jonny sits down on the bed, pushing Pat over with his ass and letting Kaner curl around him. There is a strange moment when Jonny thinks Pat is gonna pull back but it passes and Pat smashes his snotty face against Jonny's thigh.
"It's just a cold," Kaner says slickly. "Allergies."
He says it like he's talking about the Canucks, a little vicious and definitely petty. But Jonny also feels that petulant rage because illness is such a pain when there is open ice to be on and it's all incredibly inconvenient. There's a huffy sigh from Kaner faceplant in his lap and Jon gives into the temptation to stroke the broad expanse of Kaner's back. It's easy to see Pat as small, but the muscles tense and give under Jonny's palm, reminding him how stacked Kaner really is. He's a thick little bitch—wider than he seems all curled up in Jonny's guest bed.
"You should go to back to sleep," Jon says. "You'll miss practice but if you rest, you might be ready for tomorrow."
He gets a bite to the inside of his thigh for his trouble.
"Fuck off," Kaner says, gnawing a little on Jon's skin and he thwacks him over the head but it's half hearted.
"You should get undressed."
"Not in the mood." Then he pats Jonny's crotch like it's an over eager puppy and Jonny gapes. Kaner keeps on wuffling into his thigh and chomping lazily on the skin there.
"I'm not—you fucking, just—you turned my heat up," Jonny says pathetically. "Just go sleep."
"Chariot me away, Captain Control Freak. I'm sick. Deal with it."
Jonny frowns. He would make it better if he could. Instead, he manhandles a bitchy but admittedly sleepy Kaner out of the guest room and back into Jonny's room. He undresses him efficiently, ignoring the bushy waggling eyebrows because blowjobs aren't going to improve Kaner's health no matter what he says.
"I'm not touching your dick for the first time when you're half unconcious and ill, Kaner. Jesusfuck," Jonny says, a little frustrated because Kaner's sleepily attractive and god, he wants to kiss the smug mutt until he's quiet.
Pat's finally down to his boxers and tucked between Jonny's sheets. He looks good there, even if he is getting snot on Jon's favorite pillow. Mostly, he looks like he wants to be there.
"Stop thinking about my dick," Kaner mumbles but he's leering and Jonny hits his blanketed foot.
"Stop talking and rest."
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Pat says.
"Sleep, Kaner. I'll be back," then Jonny pries the phone from Pat's hands and stomps off to the kitchen. He calls the team doc, seeks some advice from his mom and then thumbs through Kaner's phone, trying to take care of any business that might keep Pat from actually resting. There are a few texts from Abby, mostly teasing him about having to head home to the wife, a text from Shawzy and a dozen half finished tweets about Bollig.
Who is apparently missing? What the fuck. Twitter is a PR nightmare and Jonny doesn't even pretend to understand it. But apparently Bollig's whereabouts are "trending" and Kaner finds this hilarious enough to send endless texts to Shawzy about it—with a startling amount of emoticons.
He pours a glass of grapefruit juice and fills up a Nalgene with ice water, before rooting around for some Advil. He's still making his way through Kaner's unanswered texts because he's annoying and it will piss Kaner off when he wakes up, which is honestly just a bonus.
Embarrassingly, Jonny turns up the heat two more degrees on his way back.
When he gets to the bedroom, Pat isn't asleep but his eyes are closed and his breathing is even.
"Twitter is stupid," Jonny says, putting down the fluids the doctor said Kaner needed. On the bed, Pat smirks but keeps his eyes closed.
"Quit going through my phone, jackass."
"If you're not quiet, I'll change the damn password on it," Jonny threatens but it's just as lazy as Kaner's looking right now. The time is still fairly early. He's got at least half an hour before he has to hustle his way to the UC for practice.
It's not hard to crawl back into bed.
Pat huffs when Jonny slides up his back but he presses into Jonny, shoving his ass into the cradle of Jon's crotch and brats his way into a spooning position that already has Jonny sweating. It's so fucking hot but it's only for a bit. He still has to get himself to practice, especially if Kaner is gonna sleep the day away.
"I'll miss the kids today," Pat says after a bit. And yeah, Jon almost forgot about going to see them today. It's a shame Kaner can't tough it out but if they didn't have a game soon, he'd probably be able to drag himself down to the hospital.
"They'll have to settle for you—that's the worst," he yawns, wiggling until his neck is pressed up against Jonny's mouth. "How disappointing. Crushin' their dreams with second best."
"You wish, loser."
Kaner pinches his hand but Jonny traps his wrist when he tries to move away. It's not holding hands.
"I'm the pretty one," Kaner complains. "I'm the pretty boyfriend."
"Asshole," but Pat's already snoring lightly. It's easy to kiss the soft, sweet skin of Kaner's neck like this and not really think about anything but how ridiculously nice it is to have Pat here, instead of anywhere else. Jonny lets himself think about Biel; about Kaner on the ice with him against the Predators; about being ready for Pat now that Pat is so clearly ready for them, knows what he wants—where he wants to be; about what it would be like to stop wondering if Pat will show up and know that he will, maybe walk in the door with him.
His alarm goes off sometime later and Pat grumbles, tries to kick him with his stubby legs and Jonny bites him on the neck for his trouble, not thinking about the hickey on his thigh that promises sex in the future, even if it was just Kaner being a salty little thing.
Jonny gets up, making sure to tell Kaner repeated to drink his damn fluids. Pat tries to hide his smile but Jonny can fucking see it. Thankfully, Kaner's eyes are closed and can't see Jonny's response because he's sure his face is stupid for Kaner. And that's embarrassing.
Whatever. He's got to head to practice. He can pick up pretending to be less gross about Kaner later. It's not like he's going anywhere, now or maybe ever.
A sobering, comforting thought, which is enough to get Jonny away from Kaner's over heated and sickly body to start thinking clearly. Kaner always makes him a little crazy. Nothing new here. Except, maybe it matters a little more. Ridiculous but that's just part of his life now.
Boyfriends, huh? Like they're rookies and not faces of the Chicago franchise, under the public eye and playing in a homophobic, if progressive, league. Like it'll work out no matter what—like it isn't anything to worry about because it's easy and maybe a little right. God, like half-Canadian grandchildren has been in Pat's plan since the beginning.
Yeah, like he said, everything Kaner says is pretty fucking ridiculous.
But Jonny still texts Bollig on the way to the rink, because he better not be fucking missing. They don't have time for that shit.