all of the ghosts left behind
characters: John Tavares and implied Victor Hedman, Stefan Della Rovere, PK Subban, Stefan Legein and Sam Gagner
summary: John hates the empty life he leads in Long Island and thinking about past 'loves' doesn't help his mindset
rating: Rrrrrrr, matey
disclaimer: completely unreal and you should know that already
a/n: I love heartandmindxx for beta-ing this and basically holding my hand through the editing, she's the best person, hands down ever and I took a lot of inspiration from these three stories, One For Luck, Homecoming and Erosion.
a/n 2: this is long, about 3900 words so be warned...
---
It’s another loss, another two points wasted in the standings. And John’s dangerously close to not caring. He’s never felt this way before and it’s frightening when he thinks about it.
His teammates are quietly talking amongst themselves as they dismantle the gear and get into post-game suits. It’s the same old routine after losses or wins with the former becoming the norm.
Matt is next to him and he grabs Rick as he saunters past, “Hey, Dipi, Alicia and I are having a home-cooked dinner tonight if you want to come over.”
Rick looks excited, “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll bring the old ball ‘n chain.” And they share a private laugh that John cringes at.
He goes on to ask a few more of their married or ‘attached’ teammates and quite a few acquiesce. John’s half-listening when Matt notices that John is in fact right next to him.
Matt turns back to his gear when Mark continues on to the showers and he politely nudges John’s shoulder with his own. “What’re you doing tonight, JT?”
John shrugs, the default option, he knows what Matt is going to ask. “Probably going to dinner and then home. Usual.” He doesn’t look up from his skates.
“Why don’t you join us? It’ll be fun, ya know.” Matt’s smiling and being friendly.
He means well, he really does.
John glares at his fingers, clenching his jaw. What would be fun about hanging out with a bunch of married adults in a house?
When John answers, he tries to be nice. “Aw, man, thanks but nah I’m cool. That’s really cool of you though.” He does mean well after all.
Matt smiles and shrugs, “Okay, well if you change your mind, just come on by.”
And John rolls his eyes at that.
They all mean well.
John’s halfway home when he thinks about Victor.
They had something, a connection and John liked the kid in some weird way. He would mess up the English language so much but he always meant well.
John pulls out his cell phone and texts him, Would you ever call your gf the ‘old ball n chain’?
Hours later, when he’s finally asleep, John stops looking for the answer text back. He feels like a fool for waiting but he can’t help it.
---
Victor cornered John outside his hotel room.
It was a humid, dreary night in Montreal when Victor made his move.
John always wondered what lust felt like and he found that out with Victor on his knees in front of him.
It was fast and messy and heated.
Victor called the shots and he showed John how one-night stands went.
He held John down with an iron-grip and mumbled instructions in muffled, broken English.
John knew he was going first overall whether he admitted it or not.
And Victor knew that fact as well when he let his nails bite into John’s skin.
---
It’s snowing on Long Island and John watches out the window as the traffic slows to a crawl on the road outside. The flashing lights of the snow trucks light up the traffic and John’s living room.
The microwave beeps to let him know that his dinner is ready.
It smells like melted plastic and water-logged potatoes but John’s hungry enough to pretend that he doesn’t notice it.
He grabs a fork and moves into the living room or the room that houses a beige couch and the biggest TV that his dad would help him carry because there’s nothing else in the room.
The movie on is the one with the two guys and the pot who are on the run from drug dealers and crooked cops and John is laughing at their antics.
It’s one of Sam’s favorite movies, Their comedic timing is fried gold. Watching it reminds him of Oakville and home and his best friend.
Suddenly, there’s a bang on the wall and John jumps in his couch. He looks to the left, where the apartment next door is. It sounds like it’s coming from there.
There’s another loud noise and then he hears it.
Moaning.
And groaning.
And, “Oh baby, yes, harder, oooooooooh yes.”
John sighs and reaches for the remote. His neighbors are at it again. Guess there’s nothing else to do but fuck when it’s snowmageddon outside.
He goes to turn up the volume when he hears it. It’s unmistakable.
“Oh yes, I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you too baby.”
He pauses for a moment, listening as his eyes narrow and his mouth presses into a frown.
And he turns the volume of the movie on full blast.
---
Stefan, the second ‘Stefan’ that meant something in John’s life, was a determined little bastard. Determined.
He cornered John in the runway before they took the ice against the Czechs. And his lips were warm and rough, that’s why John always liked boys.
He eye-fucked John into following him to his room where John’s hands shook and Stefan’s eyes crinkled as he just fucking laughed.
He waited for everyone to leave the locker room before he pinned John against the locker. His hands were splayed on either side of John’s head, leaning in and in.
He pulled John into his bed by the gold medal around his neck. But John was falling fast for him before that.
It wasn’t until later that John found out about Jordan.
Stefan wasn’t surprised when John refused to acknowledge his existence the next time they were in the same room.
---
It’s early in the morning and John’s awake and buzzing with energy. He’s flitting in the room, dressing as fast as possible as Josh snores blissfully in the opposite bed.
John is ready for the day to begin. They’re in Edmonton and this snowy, dreary day couldn’t be more beautiful to John.
At the rink, the boys are ripping on each other’s bed-head and going through their superstitions before a game day. John is oblivious to all of this, wanting to get the morning skate over, over and done with.
It’s fast-paced and energetic, everyone hopeful of their chances against an Edmonton squad that is in the same boat they’re in, a team full of up-and-comings that just hasn’t reached their best yet.
After the morning skate, John has his head down going into the locker room. They’ve got video up next and then the hotel and a nap after.
“John.”
And John’s head snaps up, toward the sound that leads his eyes to the opposing locker room door and the shape of a man leaning against the wall.
Sam.
He looks old, so much older than the last time John saw him. But his eyes are happy, mischievous like always.
John stops in the runway and then awkwardly ambles his way to Sam, this ridiculous half-grin on his lips. He tries to suppress it but it doesn’t go away permanently until that night on the plane to Denver.
Sam is grinning but he’s quiet.
John asks how he is and gets a “Fine, fine” back.
Sam reciprocates “How’ve you been?” and gets a shrug from John.
They just stare at each other for a few minutes, comfortable with it. John doesn’t know what to say to him, millions of things running through his head, things like I miss you, I wish we had something more, I want you.
“John!”
He turns around quickly and sees Blake in the doorway, motioning for him to come back to the locker room, to come back to reality.
When John turns back around, the door to the opposing locker room is closing.
---
Sam.
He moved into the neighborhood when John was young, too young to remember.
But he remembers the ice rink and the hours they spent there.
The first time his dad took him, John was intimidated. The other kids were bigger and stronger and louder but John had determination as he skated away shakily.
The kids in the neighborhood hung out at the Gagner’s rink, knowing that Sam’s dad kept it going all winter and it was the place to be when you’re ten and all you care about is hockey.
But when the kids would disappear in the evenings to go eat dinner or do homework, only John and Sam would be left behind.
After the first couple of times it happened, they started to expect it. After a while, they started to look forward to it.
When the other kids chickened out and went home it meant competitive one-on-one and games to five where it would be prolonged to twenty goals or until both were frozen and exhausted and sore.
As winter faded into summer, John and Sam brought out their dirt bikes and took over the neighborhood with fast wheelies and ‘I bet you can’t jump that hedge over there.’
John kissed Sam the summer before he turned sixteen, the summer before Sam went to London and left Oakville (and John) for what seemed like for good.
---
It’s only a few games they’re keeping him out for but John is going stir crazy. He’s never been injured and this isn’t a significant one but they’re being ‘precautious’ they said.
They’re making him take it easy, they said. Just a few games, they said.
John’s still pissed off.
He’s on the ice after the morning skate, after his teammates have already chewed up the ice and shot pucks at the boards and the goaltenders.
It’s quiet except for the sound of his skates cutting new ruts into the ice. The trainers left him for a few minutes on his own as they become occupied with the team inside the locker room.
John can hear them, laughing and ribbing each other. Their words are indiscriminate but he knows what the noise is.
It’s team-bonding.
It’s beaking.
It’s chatter that he loves to take part in.
He stops skating for a minute and listens. He can pick out Kyle’s laugh. And Frans’s nasally guffaw as Josh tells a dirty joke that John catches the very end of.
Then he resumes skating, hearing enough.
John picks up the lone puck the trainers left for him and shoots it as hard as his muscles let him. It smashes off of the boards to the right of the goal.
They’re playing the Canadiens that night and John is angrier than usual.
PK was short on the phone that morning, “Nah, can’t, team dinner function or something so rain check buddy.”
He finds the puck again and stick-handles until his wrists are screaming at him and the trainers tell him he has to get off the ice already.
---
PK was John’s best friend at international tournaments.
He was funny and cocky, always the center of attention.
He was also a good kisser.
John found that out after beer that they had bribed Shawn into buying for them.
Shawn wasn’t too keen on getting it for them until John promised him that they would include him in the planned after-practice hazing of Stammer.
They held their first cans high in the air and ‘Cheers!’ They were men, big boys who wanted to do what the big boys did.
John almost threw up with the first sip. He couldn’t believe that his dad drank this stuff willingly. But he couldn’t chicken out in front of PK.
They grimaced but finished the first cans. You could never accuse John of being a quitter as he drank another and another, PK matching his pace.
Four beers in and PK was on top of him, sucking John’s bottom lip between his teeth like the make-out scene in that movie where his mom covered his eyes with her hand but he saw what was going on between the cracks.
They kept at it (kissing that is) through the tournament. And tournaments after that one because it was convenient.
And John appreciated the distraction.
---
It’s super quiet in the house and John feels like something’s wrong. The kids aren’t usually this quiet. He thinks they’re up to no good.
The last time they were this quiet they were gluing their hands to things around the house. Luckily it was just regular glue and nothing serious. But it was a fucking mess and John had to clean it up.
Walking as quietly down the hallway as possible, John makes his way to the kids’ bedroom. He opens the door slightly and peeks in.
They’re fast asleep with ‘Shrek the Third’ playing on the television set in the corner.
This babysitting gig isn’t that bad but it isn’t the way that John would want to spend his Saturday night. But he promised to be a free baby-sitter for Doug because they put up with him living with them last season.
John closes the door quietly and shuffles back into the living room where the late game on Hockey Night In Canada is Oilers-Sharks. He’s half-watching, thinking about what it would be like to play in Canada, to play for a franchise like the Oilers.
As the game nears the end of the second period, John’s eyes begin to get heavy. And for some reason the image of Sam, from the last time he saw him in Edmonton, is playing at the edges of his half-dreams.
That’s when he hears the front door open.
John gets up with a start and blinks the dreams away. He stretches while yawning as widely as possible. It’s going to be a long drive back to the apartment.
He makes his way to the foyer but stops suddenly in the darkened doorway.
Doug is pressing his wife into the wall next to the front door and they’re kissing. He pulls back and whispers something in her ear that makes her sigh and pull him closer.
John starts to retreat slowly and when he’s sure he’s out of sight range, sprints back to the couch. His eyes are fixed on the TV in front of him, willing that image to go away from his mind’s eye.
A few minutes later Doug makes his way into the living room. He asks how the kids were and if John had any trouble with them as he subtly starts to lead John toward the front door.
John gets the hint and leaves without saying much.
The drive home is a bitch as John keeps falling asleep and thinking about Doug and his wife which makes him shake awake every time.
---
Stefan was John’s best friend growing up. He was his wingman, his partner in crime.
In short, they did everything together.
When they both went to Russia, Stefan kissed him.
John was sure Stefan was it.
It felt different, different than anything else.
They mocked their teammates together, jokes and minds perfectly in-sync.
They made out in the equipment room in Canada, hands fumbling and palms sweaty.
They were inseparable.
Months later when Stefan announced his retirement, no one saw it coming.
Even John, his best friend and his wingman. He called immediately, after finding out about it on the internet.
John had to know if it was true but Stefan never answered.
---
It’s the end of the line, end of the season and end of the lease on Long Island. And in some way, John’s relieved to be done with losing.
Boxes line the wall closest to the front door and John sits on the floor in his now (finally) clean and empty apartment. It’s quiet without the running refrigerator and the constant buzz of the television set.
John doesn’t want to think about PK and his team that’s in the play offs. He texted him a few days ago, inviting John to visit but he declined, the offer was just depressing though PK meant well.
He doesn’t want to think about the fact that most of his friends are still playing now and he’s packing up his stuff. Most of his stuff is going into storage until the next season and some is coming back to Oakville with him.
He gulps down a warm water bottle and wipes the beaded sweat off of his forehead. It’s not that hot in April but it’s enough when doing strenuous work like packing shit you didn’t even know you had.
A few minutes later, John pushes himself off of the floor and decides to do a once-over of the apartment before he leaves.
He walks around the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen and nothing, but the bedroom is when he gets caught up in stuff he forgot.
There’s a single box sitting on the floor in the corner and John remembers that it’s filled with all of the half-wrapped pictures that he never hung up. Typical.
John picks up the box and remembers his mom laughing as she helped him pack the box. You’re never going to hang these up, I know you. But John had to have -
And he stops in the hallway between his bedroom and the living room, remembering what picture it is.
He sets the box down and rifles through the picture frames until he finds the one where he’s fifteen and awkward-looking.
John holds it in his hand and scans the picture until he finds Sam, his face flushed and excited from the win. It’s John’s favorite picture.
---
Sam was always there. Even after John left for Oshawa.
He calmed John down when he would call almost hysterical, tell John that everything was fine and he would be okay in a new city, with a new team.
He would be only a text message away after a bad game or a good game.
Sam accepted the fact that John was better than him a long time ago. He knew that the first time they played one-on-one and John stick-handled him into a heap on his own rink.
John felt like they would always be there for each other, through drafts and goal-less streaks and revolving linemates.
When Sam was drafted by London a year later, John was so happy for him. Until the text messages waned and phone calls stopped and the rumors started about Sam and his new linemate.
John felt abandoned, forgotten about. Like he was someone who was just in the background of Sam’s life when it was convenient for him.
Until the big leagues called and he saw the way that Sam’s now old linemate acted around his new centerman. Now Sam knew how it felt.
John called him up one night from the basement of his billet’s house, “So, you and Kane huh?”
Sam sighed, “Over.” And he paused, “I’m sorry.”
“So how’s the big boy life in Edmonton?” John knew that what they had was different and he could never stop being in love with Sam.
---
It’s close to boiling point John thinks as he taps the thermostat sitting in the window of his parent’s kitchen.
He’s been home for a couple of weeks now and he’s bored. They’re out doing whatever it is that they do now that John is ‘an adult’.
He walks into the living room and collapses onto the couch with a sigh, shirtless and wearing only light basketball shorts that he borrowed from PK and never gave back.
As soon as John’s eyes slip shut the doorbell rings. He sits up and groans, rubbing at his eyes. Then he gets up and stalks to the front door, mumbling that this better be good.
When the door opens, John stares dumbly at the person standing on the front step.
Sam is smiling with the one corner of his mouth, a little tic he does when he’s nervous about something. He motions to John, “Wanna go for a walk?”
John nods his head and grabs his shirt from the banister behind him. The front door closes as Sam leads them down the steps and onto the sidewalk.
They’re both quiet, listening to the sounds from around them and formulating things to say to the other. They really haven’t seen each other since Edmonton and that was brief.
John breaks the silence first, “How’s the hand?”
Sam lifts it in the air, a small white bandage still in place. “Better than before but still kinda sore.” He puts his hand back down and says, “How’s your summer going?”
And John turns his head to look at Sam, eyes rolling.
Sam laughs because he knows the feeling all too well. It’s been a long season of losing and injuries and now a long summer ahead of them. He knows John understands that feeling.
They reach the corner store and John smiles because it’s like they’re teenagers again and life is only about dirt bikes and games to five.
The freezer is in the same place it’s been for what feels like centuries as they peer into the glass, picking out the flavor of Popsicle that sounds the best.
John goes with lime and Sam sticks with cherry, like always.
At the counter, Sam pays and ignores the glare that John throws his way.
They eat their Popsicles in silence as they pass John’s house and end up in the backyard of Sam’s house. The rink is lifeless and muddy, the elements taking over when his dad is busy with other people’s rinks.
John sits on the grass close to the rink and Sam takes the place next to him. The sun is setting a little as the Popsicle sticks are bare and getting chewed on.
“It’s kind of sad that this doesn’t get used much anymore.” Sam tosses the stick into the pooled water at the bottom of the rink.
John follows suit and shrugs, “I think we used it enough for a million years.”
Sam smiles, “Yeah, we did play out here a lot, huh?” He looks past the rink, into the yards behind the house where he grew up. And then he says, “Do you really think we will play together again?”
For a minute, John is silent. His thoughts are thrown back to that day when they were so young and anything literally seemed possible.
The sun is setting on another summer day lost to talking about moves that they will try when it gets colder and who has the fastest bike in the neighborhood.
They’re sitting on the back steps leading to the ice-less rink when John kisses Sam. His lips are sticky and cold against Sam’s cheek.
He turns to look at Sam and sees how he’s grown up so much. He’s got stubble where it was smooth before. Hs eyes look weary and heavy.
But inside, inside he’s still the same ten-year-old that John had a crush on. Still has a crush on.
John knows that his heart hasn’t found a suitable replacement for Sam yet and probably never will. He leans over and turns Sam’s head toward his, looking at him and seeing the feelings mirrored back at him.
He presses their lips together, gently at first then more insistent. It lasts and lasts as Sam opens his mouth and lets John in and John weaves his fingers into Sam’s dark hair.
They pull back finally and lean their foreheads together; John keeps his hand in Sam’s hair and slowly runs his fingers back and forth.
John sighs, “Yeah, yeah I still do.” It’s what keeps him going in Long Island. It’s what keeps him chugging along, waiting patiently for that day.
---
summary: John hates the empty life he leads in Long Island and thinking about past 'loves' doesn't help his mindset
rating: Rrrrrrr, matey
disclaimer: completely unreal and you should know that already
a/n: I love heartandmindxx for beta-ing this and basically holding my hand through the editing, she's the best person, hands down ever and I took a lot of inspiration from these three stories, One For Luck, Homecoming and Erosion.
a/n 2: this is long, about 3900 words so be warned...
---
It’s another loss, another two points wasted in the standings. And John’s dangerously close to not caring. He’s never felt this way before and it’s frightening when he thinks about it.
His teammates are quietly talking amongst themselves as they dismantle the gear and get into post-game suits. It’s the same old routine after losses or wins with the former becoming the norm.
Matt is next to him and he grabs Rick as he saunters past, “Hey, Dipi, Alicia and I are having a home-cooked dinner tonight if you want to come over.”
Rick looks excited, “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll bring the old ball ‘n chain.” And they share a private laugh that John cringes at.
He goes on to ask a few more of their married or ‘attached’ teammates and quite a few acquiesce. John’s half-listening when Matt notices that John is in fact right next to him.
Matt turns back to his gear when Mark continues on to the showers and he politely nudges John’s shoulder with his own. “What’re you doing tonight, JT?”
John shrugs, the default option, he knows what Matt is going to ask. “Probably going to dinner and then home. Usual.” He doesn’t look up from his skates.
“Why don’t you join us? It’ll be fun, ya know.” Matt’s smiling and being friendly.
He means well, he really does.
John glares at his fingers, clenching his jaw. What would be fun about hanging out with a bunch of married adults in a house?
When John answers, he tries to be nice. “Aw, man, thanks but nah I’m cool. That’s really cool of you though.” He does mean well after all.
Matt smiles and shrugs, “Okay, well if you change your mind, just come on by.”
And John rolls his eyes at that.
They all mean well.
John’s halfway home when he thinks about Victor.
They had something, a connection and John liked the kid in some weird way. He would mess up the English language so much but he always meant well.
John pulls out his cell phone and texts him, Would you ever call your gf the ‘old ball n chain’?
Hours later, when he’s finally asleep, John stops looking for the answer text back. He feels like a fool for waiting but he can’t help it.
---
Victor cornered John outside his hotel room.
It was a humid, dreary night in Montreal when Victor made his move.
John always wondered what lust felt like and he found that out with Victor on his knees in front of him.
It was fast and messy and heated.
Victor called the shots and he showed John how one-night stands went.
He held John down with an iron-grip and mumbled instructions in muffled, broken English.
John knew he was going first overall whether he admitted it or not.
And Victor knew that fact as well when he let his nails bite into John’s skin.
---
It’s snowing on Long Island and John watches out the window as the traffic slows to a crawl on the road outside. The flashing lights of the snow trucks light up the traffic and John’s living room.
The microwave beeps to let him know that his dinner is ready.
It smells like melted plastic and water-logged potatoes but John’s hungry enough to pretend that he doesn’t notice it.
He grabs a fork and moves into the living room or the room that houses a beige couch and the biggest TV that his dad would help him carry because there’s nothing else in the room.
The movie on is the one with the two guys and the pot who are on the run from drug dealers and crooked cops and John is laughing at their antics.
It’s one of Sam’s favorite movies, Their comedic timing is fried gold. Watching it reminds him of Oakville and home and his best friend.
Suddenly, there’s a bang on the wall and John jumps in his couch. He looks to the left, where the apartment next door is. It sounds like it’s coming from there.
There’s another loud noise and then he hears it.
Moaning.
And groaning.
And, “Oh baby, yes, harder, oooooooooh yes.”
John sighs and reaches for the remote. His neighbors are at it again. Guess there’s nothing else to do but fuck when it’s snowmageddon outside.
He goes to turn up the volume when he hears it. It’s unmistakable.
“Oh yes, I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you too baby.”
He pauses for a moment, listening as his eyes narrow and his mouth presses into a frown.
And he turns the volume of the movie on full blast.
---
Stefan, the second ‘Stefan’ that meant something in John’s life, was a determined little bastard. Determined.
He cornered John in the runway before they took the ice against the Czechs. And his lips were warm and rough, that’s why John always liked boys.
He eye-fucked John into following him to his room where John’s hands shook and Stefan’s eyes crinkled as he just fucking laughed.
He waited for everyone to leave the locker room before he pinned John against the locker. His hands were splayed on either side of John’s head, leaning in and in.
He pulled John into his bed by the gold medal around his neck. But John was falling fast for him before that.
It wasn’t until later that John found out about Jordan.
Stefan wasn’t surprised when John refused to acknowledge his existence the next time they were in the same room.
---
It’s early in the morning and John’s awake and buzzing with energy. He’s flitting in the room, dressing as fast as possible as Josh snores blissfully in the opposite bed.
John is ready for the day to begin. They’re in Edmonton and this snowy, dreary day couldn’t be more beautiful to John.
At the rink, the boys are ripping on each other’s bed-head and going through their superstitions before a game day. John is oblivious to all of this, wanting to get the morning skate over, over and done with.
It’s fast-paced and energetic, everyone hopeful of their chances against an Edmonton squad that is in the same boat they’re in, a team full of up-and-comings that just hasn’t reached their best yet.
After the morning skate, John has his head down going into the locker room. They’ve got video up next and then the hotel and a nap after.
“John.”
And John’s head snaps up, toward the sound that leads his eyes to the opposing locker room door and the shape of a man leaning against the wall.
Sam.
He looks old, so much older than the last time John saw him. But his eyes are happy, mischievous like always.
John stops in the runway and then awkwardly ambles his way to Sam, this ridiculous half-grin on his lips. He tries to suppress it but it doesn’t go away permanently until that night on the plane to Denver.
Sam is grinning but he’s quiet.
John asks how he is and gets a “Fine, fine” back.
Sam reciprocates “How’ve you been?” and gets a shrug from John.
They just stare at each other for a few minutes, comfortable with it. John doesn’t know what to say to him, millions of things running through his head, things like I miss you, I wish we had something more, I want you.
“John!”
He turns around quickly and sees Blake in the doorway, motioning for him to come back to the locker room, to come back to reality.
When John turns back around, the door to the opposing locker room is closing.
---
Sam.
He moved into the neighborhood when John was young, too young to remember.
But he remembers the ice rink and the hours they spent there.
The first time his dad took him, John was intimidated. The other kids were bigger and stronger and louder but John had determination as he skated away shakily.
The kids in the neighborhood hung out at the Gagner’s rink, knowing that Sam’s dad kept it going all winter and it was the place to be when you’re ten and all you care about is hockey.
But when the kids would disappear in the evenings to go eat dinner or do homework, only John and Sam would be left behind.
After the first couple of times it happened, they started to expect it. After a while, they started to look forward to it.
When the other kids chickened out and went home it meant competitive one-on-one and games to five where it would be prolonged to twenty goals or until both were frozen and exhausted and sore.
As winter faded into summer, John and Sam brought out their dirt bikes and took over the neighborhood with fast wheelies and ‘I bet you can’t jump that hedge over there.’
John kissed Sam the summer before he turned sixteen, the summer before Sam went to London and left Oakville (and John) for what seemed like for good.
---
It’s only a few games they’re keeping him out for but John is going stir crazy. He’s never been injured and this isn’t a significant one but they’re being ‘precautious’ they said.
They’re making him take it easy, they said. Just a few games, they said.
John’s still pissed off.
He’s on the ice after the morning skate, after his teammates have already chewed up the ice and shot pucks at the boards and the goaltenders.
It’s quiet except for the sound of his skates cutting new ruts into the ice. The trainers left him for a few minutes on his own as they become occupied with the team inside the locker room.
John can hear them, laughing and ribbing each other. Their words are indiscriminate but he knows what the noise is.
It’s team-bonding.
It’s beaking.
It’s chatter that he loves to take part in.
He stops skating for a minute and listens. He can pick out Kyle’s laugh. And Frans’s nasally guffaw as Josh tells a dirty joke that John catches the very end of.
Then he resumes skating, hearing enough.
John picks up the lone puck the trainers left for him and shoots it as hard as his muscles let him. It smashes off of the boards to the right of the goal.
They’re playing the Canadiens that night and John is angrier than usual.
PK was short on the phone that morning, “Nah, can’t, team dinner function or something so rain check buddy.”
He finds the puck again and stick-handles until his wrists are screaming at him and the trainers tell him he has to get off the ice already.
---
PK was John’s best friend at international tournaments.
He was funny and cocky, always the center of attention.
He was also a good kisser.
John found that out after beer that they had bribed Shawn into buying for them.
Shawn wasn’t too keen on getting it for them until John promised him that they would include him in the planned after-practice hazing of Stammer.
They held their first cans high in the air and ‘Cheers!’ They were men, big boys who wanted to do what the big boys did.
John almost threw up with the first sip. He couldn’t believe that his dad drank this stuff willingly. But he couldn’t chicken out in front of PK.
They grimaced but finished the first cans. You could never accuse John of being a quitter as he drank another and another, PK matching his pace.
Four beers in and PK was on top of him, sucking John’s bottom lip between his teeth like the make-out scene in that movie where his mom covered his eyes with her hand but he saw what was going on between the cracks.
They kept at it (kissing that is) through the tournament. And tournaments after that one because it was convenient.
And John appreciated the distraction.
---
It’s super quiet in the house and John feels like something’s wrong. The kids aren’t usually this quiet. He thinks they’re up to no good.
The last time they were this quiet they were gluing their hands to things around the house. Luckily it was just regular glue and nothing serious. But it was a fucking mess and John had to clean it up.
Walking as quietly down the hallway as possible, John makes his way to the kids’ bedroom. He opens the door slightly and peeks in.
They’re fast asleep with ‘Shrek the Third’ playing on the television set in the corner.
This babysitting gig isn’t that bad but it isn’t the way that John would want to spend his Saturday night. But he promised to be a free baby-sitter for Doug because they put up with him living with them last season.
John closes the door quietly and shuffles back into the living room where the late game on Hockey Night In Canada is Oilers-Sharks. He’s half-watching, thinking about what it would be like to play in Canada, to play for a franchise like the Oilers.
As the game nears the end of the second period, John’s eyes begin to get heavy. And for some reason the image of Sam, from the last time he saw him in Edmonton, is playing at the edges of his half-dreams.
That’s when he hears the front door open.
John gets up with a start and blinks the dreams away. He stretches while yawning as widely as possible. It’s going to be a long drive back to the apartment.
He makes his way to the foyer but stops suddenly in the darkened doorway.
Doug is pressing his wife into the wall next to the front door and they’re kissing. He pulls back and whispers something in her ear that makes her sigh and pull him closer.
John starts to retreat slowly and when he’s sure he’s out of sight range, sprints back to the couch. His eyes are fixed on the TV in front of him, willing that image to go away from his mind’s eye.
A few minutes later Doug makes his way into the living room. He asks how the kids were and if John had any trouble with them as he subtly starts to lead John toward the front door.
John gets the hint and leaves without saying much.
The drive home is a bitch as John keeps falling asleep and thinking about Doug and his wife which makes him shake awake every time.
---
Stefan was John’s best friend growing up. He was his wingman, his partner in crime.
In short, they did everything together.
When they both went to Russia, Stefan kissed him.
John was sure Stefan was it.
It felt different, different than anything else.
They mocked their teammates together, jokes and minds perfectly in-sync.
They made out in the equipment room in Canada, hands fumbling and palms sweaty.
They were inseparable.
Months later when Stefan announced his retirement, no one saw it coming.
Even John, his best friend and his wingman. He called immediately, after finding out about it on the internet.
John had to know if it was true but Stefan never answered.
---
It’s the end of the line, end of the season and end of the lease on Long Island. And in some way, John’s relieved to be done with losing.
Boxes line the wall closest to the front door and John sits on the floor in his now (finally) clean and empty apartment. It’s quiet without the running refrigerator and the constant buzz of the television set.
John doesn’t want to think about PK and his team that’s in the play offs. He texted him a few days ago, inviting John to visit but he declined, the offer was just depressing though PK meant well.
He doesn’t want to think about the fact that most of his friends are still playing now and he’s packing up his stuff. Most of his stuff is going into storage until the next season and some is coming back to Oakville with him.
He gulps down a warm water bottle and wipes the beaded sweat off of his forehead. It’s not that hot in April but it’s enough when doing strenuous work like packing shit you didn’t even know you had.
A few minutes later, John pushes himself off of the floor and decides to do a once-over of the apartment before he leaves.
He walks around the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen and nothing, but the bedroom is when he gets caught up in stuff he forgot.
There’s a single box sitting on the floor in the corner and John remembers that it’s filled with all of the half-wrapped pictures that he never hung up. Typical.
John picks up the box and remembers his mom laughing as she helped him pack the box. You’re never going to hang these up, I know you. But John had to have -
And he stops in the hallway between his bedroom and the living room, remembering what picture it is.
He sets the box down and rifles through the picture frames until he finds the one where he’s fifteen and awkward-looking.
John holds it in his hand and scans the picture until he finds Sam, his face flushed and excited from the win. It’s John’s favorite picture.
---
Sam was always there. Even after John left for Oshawa.
He calmed John down when he would call almost hysterical, tell John that everything was fine and he would be okay in a new city, with a new team.
He would be only a text message away after a bad game or a good game.
Sam accepted the fact that John was better than him a long time ago. He knew that the first time they played one-on-one and John stick-handled him into a heap on his own rink.
John felt like they would always be there for each other, through drafts and goal-less streaks and revolving linemates.
When Sam was drafted by London a year later, John was so happy for him. Until the text messages waned and phone calls stopped and the rumors started about Sam and his new linemate.
John felt abandoned, forgotten about. Like he was someone who was just in the background of Sam’s life when it was convenient for him.
Until the big leagues called and he saw the way that Sam’s now old linemate acted around his new centerman. Now Sam knew how it felt.
John called him up one night from the basement of his billet’s house, “So, you and Kane huh?”
Sam sighed, “Over.” And he paused, “I’m sorry.”
“So how’s the big boy life in Edmonton?” John knew that what they had was different and he could never stop being in love with Sam.
---
It’s close to boiling point John thinks as he taps the thermostat sitting in the window of his parent’s kitchen.
He’s been home for a couple of weeks now and he’s bored. They’re out doing whatever it is that they do now that John is ‘an adult’.
He walks into the living room and collapses onto the couch with a sigh, shirtless and wearing only light basketball shorts that he borrowed from PK and never gave back.
As soon as John’s eyes slip shut the doorbell rings. He sits up and groans, rubbing at his eyes. Then he gets up and stalks to the front door, mumbling that this better be good.
When the door opens, John stares dumbly at the person standing on the front step.
Sam is smiling with the one corner of his mouth, a little tic he does when he’s nervous about something. He motions to John, “Wanna go for a walk?”
John nods his head and grabs his shirt from the banister behind him. The front door closes as Sam leads them down the steps and onto the sidewalk.
They’re both quiet, listening to the sounds from around them and formulating things to say to the other. They really haven’t seen each other since Edmonton and that was brief.
John breaks the silence first, “How’s the hand?”
Sam lifts it in the air, a small white bandage still in place. “Better than before but still kinda sore.” He puts his hand back down and says, “How’s your summer going?”
And John turns his head to look at Sam, eyes rolling.
Sam laughs because he knows the feeling all too well. It’s been a long season of losing and injuries and now a long summer ahead of them. He knows John understands that feeling.
They reach the corner store and John smiles because it’s like they’re teenagers again and life is only about dirt bikes and games to five.
The freezer is in the same place it’s been for what feels like centuries as they peer into the glass, picking out the flavor of Popsicle that sounds the best.
John goes with lime and Sam sticks with cherry, like always.
At the counter, Sam pays and ignores the glare that John throws his way.
They eat their Popsicles in silence as they pass John’s house and end up in the backyard of Sam’s house. The rink is lifeless and muddy, the elements taking over when his dad is busy with other people’s rinks.
John sits on the grass close to the rink and Sam takes the place next to him. The sun is setting a little as the Popsicle sticks are bare and getting chewed on.
“It’s kind of sad that this doesn’t get used much anymore.” Sam tosses the stick into the pooled water at the bottom of the rink.
John follows suit and shrugs, “I think we used it enough for a million years.”
Sam smiles, “Yeah, we did play out here a lot, huh?” He looks past the rink, into the yards behind the house where he grew up. And then he says, “Do you really think we will play together again?”
For a minute, John is silent. His thoughts are thrown back to that day when they were so young and anything literally seemed possible.
The sun is setting on another summer day lost to talking about moves that they will try when it gets colder and who has the fastest bike in the neighborhood.
They’re sitting on the back steps leading to the ice-less rink when John kisses Sam. His lips are sticky and cold against Sam’s cheek.
He turns to look at Sam and sees how he’s grown up so much. He’s got stubble where it was smooth before. Hs eyes look weary and heavy.
But inside, inside he’s still the same ten-year-old that John had a crush on. Still has a crush on.
John knows that his heart hasn’t found a suitable replacement for Sam yet and probably never will. He leans over and turns Sam’s head toward his, looking at him and seeing the feelings mirrored back at him.
He presses their lips together, gently at first then more insistent. It lasts and lasts as Sam opens his mouth and lets John in and John weaves his fingers into Sam’s dark hair.
They pull back finally and lean their foreheads together; John keeps his hand in Sam’s hair and slowly runs his fingers back and forth.
John sighs, “Yeah, yeah I still do.” It’s what keeps him going in Long Island. It’s what keeps him chugging along, waiting patiently for that day.
---