Chapter Text
Jonny wakes up to find Patrick next to him, going through messages on his phone, putting the device down as soon as Jonny's awake.
"Morning," he says, and Jonny smiles, letting the memories of yesterday wash over him, a giddy excitement and deep satisfaction settling inside his gut.
Patrick's naked in his sheets, sleep-rumpled and smiling and he's not gonna leave any time soon.
"Morning," he says, and Patrick laughs before kissing him.
The rumbling of his stomach one minute later is the only thing that can convince them to pull apart and get out of bed.
It's their first real breakfast together, Jonny realizes as he follows Patrick into the kitchen. The first time they have time in the morning without one of them having to rush back to a team hotel.
"It won't be easy," Patrick says over some scrambled eggs and bacon a little later. "We can't come out. We can't walk down the streets together."
There's so much they have to figure out. Here, in the comfort of Jonny's kitchen, it all seems so incredibly far away. But he forces himself to think about it; they won't be wrapped up in the comfort of his bed, the world blocked out, forever.
"Nothing has ever been easy between us," he says. "It may have felt easy sometimes, but it never really was."
Patrick nods, accepting the mug of coffee Jonny slides over. He cradles it in his hands, inhaling the rich smell of coffee like he's waiting for it to clear the fog from the alcohol in his head.
"You know," he says after a few minutes of thoughtful silence. "I was really pissed when the Flyers traded me. I hated it. I know I have no one but myself to blame for it, but in a lot of ways it felt like they never trusted me in the first place, like I was never good enough. And I've been doubted all my life; I so badly wanted to prove to them that I could be everything they wanted. I didn't want people to look at me and think that I left the team or got traded because I couldn't make it in Philly. I had to force myself not to be bitter about the Flyers moving on and focus on the Hawks wanting me instead. But now…" He lets out a small laugh. "Fuck, you don't know how happy I am about how it all went down."
Jonny nods back, and it feels good that he can finally reach out and take Patrick's hand, their fingers slipping in between each other.
Yesterday, Jonny never wanted the partying to end, but right now he's eternally grateful for the quiet of his kitchen and the slowness of the morning with Patrick. They take their time eating and Jonny steps behind Patrick and wraps his arms around him after rinsing the dishes.
"Soo," he teases, pressing a kiss to Patrick's neck. "You said something yesterday about how badly you wanted to go to Winnipeg." Patrick groans, then laughs, and Jonny tightens his arms around him, smiling into his neck. He can't fucking believe this is real. "We could go on vacation together," he adds, more serious. "Just for a week or two. And then we could go see our parents later in the summer."
"Sounds nice."
"We have all summer to figure it out, eh?"
Patrick's skin vibrates as he hums when Jonny tucks his face in the curve of his neck. What Patrick said yesterday, about signing contracts and meeting their families and coming out to teammates might seem like a lot, but in a way it has been years and Chicago has become home so much quicker than either of them anticipated. If they were okay this year, with their tryst hanging awkwardly between them, they'll figure it out from here. Seabs and Sharpy and the other guys have become family; the team will be fine.
They ditch the celebrations today to stay curled up inside Jonny's condo, just being around each other, calming down from the highs of the cup win and the celebrations and everything that happened yesterday.
Nothing has changed except that Jonny refuses to keep his hands to himself, and Patrick never seems very particularly bothered.
There's stuff they need to talk about, but they have time now.
-
Turns out they don't even last an entire week without letting the cat out of the bag. Jonny will blame the alcohol; they could have kept it secret for longer if the booze didn't make them reckless and light-hearted.
Seabs is hosting a BBQ at his place a couple days later as the celebrations are winding down—the craziness of the past weeks has started catching up with all of them; they're all varying degrees of drunk or nursing a hangover, eager to be around the guys and bask in their hard-earned glory, sick of the wild partying.
Patrick's sitting at the opposite side of the backyard, and Jonny knows he's staring, but he can't help it. The first two buttons of his shirt are undone, there's a gorgeous flush from the alcohol on his cheeks and throat, his lips stretched into a smile. He keeps laughing and giggling as he talks to Sharpy, and he looks fully at ease, happy, and Jonny just—
He wants.
Eventually, Patrick catches his eyes and smirks. He's holding a beer can in his hand and takes a sip, frowning when he realizes that it's empty. The way he wrinkles his nose like he can't believe the audacity is kind of cute. Jonny grins and watches Patrick move into the house to grab another beer, winking at Jonny on the way like it hasn't been lost on him that Jonny's not followed the conversation between Seabs and Hoss much.
They're in a heated discussion that Jonny has lost track of, so he gets up and follows Patrick into the kitchen, the chatter from outside dying down as he walks through Seabs' house.
Patrick's at the fridge, an amused huff leaving his lips when Jonny steps behind him to kiss his neck and jaw, hands sliding along his body and underneath his shirt. He doesn't seem particularly surprised that Jonny went after him.
"Follow me upstairs?" Jonny whispers right into his ear.
Patrick shivers in his arms. "How salacious," he mutters back, tilting his head to let Jonny mouth at his skin a little longer, a glint in his eyes when he finally turns and pushes at Jonny's chest. "Not here, c'mon."
Jonny wants to drag him into the guest bedroom that he slept in when he first got to Chicago as quickly as possible, but Patrick starts kissing him in the hallway as they stumble towards the stairs. He's just as impatient as Jonny, his hands curled into the collar of Jonny's shirt, and Jonny finds himself pushed against a wall, one of Patrick's legs between his. They're kissing like their life depends on it, Patrick's hands cupping his face, sucking on his bottom lip, frantic and heated.
"You look hot," Patrick whispers. "Been distracting me all day. Drove me fucking crazy to see you watching me out there."
Jonny moans softly and pulls Patrick in, loving the way he melts into it, his hands sliding under Jonny's shirt, pushing and pulling on the fabric at the same time.
"Peeks," Jonny says, head thumping back against the wall. "Pat, I—"
Someone clears his throat from above them.
Jonny flinches, and he'd jump back if it wasn't for the wall right behind him. Patrick scrambles apart as they turn, his eyes wide, and there's Sharpy at the top of the stairs, one eyebrow arched and—fuck, fuck, how long has he been standing there already? How much has he heard or seen?
Jonny's heart might break a few of his ribs with how hard it's hammering against his ribcage.
"Uh—" he starts, watching Sharpy's eyebrow wander even higher.
Patrick tentatively licks his lips next to him, and Jonny absently realizes that he must have unbuttoned half of Patrick's shirt at some point already. More blood rushes into his face.
"Was I supposed to know about this?" Sharpy asks.
He's not yelling at them, and he's not watching them like he's going to run to Bowman and demand them traded because he's not going to share a locker room with men like them, but Jonny's heart is racing as he swallows against the panic rising inside of him. They've talked a little about coming out to teammates—to Sharpy and Seabs first, then maybe Duncs and Hoss and Crow. Jonny wouldn't have suggested it had he thought that either of them would be anything but supportive, but it wasn't supposed to happen like this; they were gonna ease them into it.
He looks over to Patrick, who's biting his lip, his face as red as Jonny's feels.
"It's uh—" He grimaces. "It's kind of a new development."
"Uh-huh."
"We meant to tell you," Jonny adds, and Sharpy starts grinning. That's… good? With Sharpy, it's always hard to tell.
"Oh yeah?" he asks. "Just me?"
"You, and Seabs, and maybe Duncs, and—"
"Ohh," Sharpy interrupts gleefully. "So Seabs doesn't know you're making out in his hallway?" he adds, a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Are you talking to me?" Seabs yells from the living room, and honestly, they kind of deserve this for making out in their teammate's hallway.
Patrick groans quietly next to Jonny. "No," he yells back, but Seabs is already sticking his head around the corner, stepping next to Sharpy who's grinning as if he just won a second Stanley Cup. In a way, Jonny would have preferred being yelled at.
"Guess who I found humping each other in the hallway?"
"We weren't humping each other," Patrick protests weakly, but Seabs' cough is louder than his words, his eyes widening as he stares at them, then at a gleeful Sharpy, then back at them.
"Are you guys drunk?"
"Yeah," Jonny says. As if either of them has been sober since leaving the ice in Boston.
Sharpy laughs. "These guys said they wanted to tell us something." He reaches for Patrick's shoulder, squeezing, the delight on his face gone now, replaced by something a lot softer. Jonny thinks… it'll be okay.
"We might be, uh, kind of together?" Jonny says.
He's never actually said it out loud and when he glances at Patrick, he finds a sheepish grin on his face, and Jonny really likes how that sounds. Together. Patrick and him.
Seabs' eyes almost threaten to fall out of his face.
"Are you kidding me?" he asks, but he quickly smooths out his face, grimaces, and shakes his head. "No, sorry, uh, congrats. I'm—that's great, obviously." Sharpy's nodding next to him and Seabs scratches his neck as he gazes at Jonny. He looks bewildered and dumbfounded and Jonny feels like an asshole for springing this on them like this. "Uh, I'm sorry for asking," he adds. "But… you didn't ask to be traded to the same team, did you?"
Jonny hurries to shake his head. It hadn't really occurred to him before that they could think that, but that's fair probably. They won't ever have to know how this all started though.
"No," he says quickly. "That's not… it's been like a week," he adds helplessly.
"We're still figuring it out," Patrick says. "We've talked a little about telling you guys, but it's been… a lot for us too, you know?" He lets out a nervous chuckle. "Sorry for letting you know like this."
"Okay," Seabs says. His face screams I'm not drunk enough for this, and Jonny kind of relates. "Okay," Seabs says again, clearing his throat. "I, yeah, I get that. So, uh, I'd appreciate it if you didn't fuck in my bedroom." His face twists. Then, he does some kind of half-shrug. "But other than that, good luck, I guess. Thanks for telling us."
"It won't be a problem in the locker room," Jonny says weakly. "I promise."
"No, we know," Sharpy says, and he looks more serious than Jonny's ever seen him. "We trust you guys, okay? And we have your back. This is between the four of us now, but if you want to tell anyone else, we're in your corner."
"Thanks," Jonny says on an exhale and he only realizes how scared he still was of this when Seabs pull him into a brief but tight hug, his shoulders sagging, tension melting out of his spine.
"It's fine," Seabs says again like he's willing both of them to believe it. "The dating part and the sexuality part. Neither of it is a big deal."
He squeezes Jonny's shoulder while Sharpy ruffles Patrick's hair, and Jonny doesn't know how to tell him how relieved he is, how much this means, how much he appreciates their support, but he thinks they both get it just like they could clearly tell how big of a deal this moment is for both Patrick and him.
"We'll, uh, head out, I think," Patrick says, ducking his head. "Tell the others we say hi."
Sharpy's shit-eating grin returns while Seabs rolls his eyes and hits his palm against the back of Sharpy’s head. Clearly, at least Sharpy will never let them live this down, and Jonny's shockingly okay with that if it means that nothing between them changes.
They'll talk about this later again, when they're all sober and alone and have had time to wrap their heads around everything.
"Hey, Jonny," Seabs says, and now there's a very unsettling mischievous spark in his eyes. "Just make sure you're not playing favorites with Kaner once the Hawks have given you the C next year, yeah?"
Jonny nods, then stops himself.
What?
He furrows his brow while Seabs starts laughing. "They asked me about this," he adds. "Wanted to know my opinion on giving it to you this summer. I think they'll ask soon. I was gonna talk to you and give you a heads-up, but hey, now's as good a time as any, eh?"
Seabs grinning, and yeah, maybe Jonny deserves this for springing the thing with Patrick on him like this. Jonny gapes at him, but when he turns, neither Sharpy nor Patrick seem to share his surprise.
"Did you know?" he asks when Patrick raises an eyebrow back at him, and that makes Patrick laugh.
"Well, they didn't talk to me," he says. "But yeah, of course I knew. Everyone knows they'd ask you."
"I didn't."
"Everyone knows," Sharpy chimes in. He rolls his eyes. "C'mon, you two get out of here, or someone else is gonna wonder what's going on there and don't think I'll help you make up excuses for why you two look like you banged in Seabs' hallway."
That gets them going, but Jonny's still caught on Seabs' words as Patrick tugs him out of the house, offering one last thankful smile to their teammates, and into a cab.
"So," Patrick says dryly. His cheeks are red. "That didn't go as planned."
Jonny chuckles. He hasn't had enough alcohol for the car ride to make him feel so dizzy.
"Could have been worse, I suppose," he says, letting his head fall against the window. "Did you mean that?" he asks instead after a minute of silence. "What you said about the C?"
"Yeah, of course." Patrick turns his head and nudges his thigh, face softening. "Jonny, I mean it, everyone knows. The entire league is expecting this. I can't believe you didn't see this coming after all they've said to you over the season. How did you not figure it out?"
Jonny shakes his head. If someone had asked, he could have told them it was a possibility, but during the season there was no time to think much about this, no point really in dwelling on future hypotheticals. And the last days were eventful enough without this extra cherry on top.
"You're still not…"
"No," Patrick says softly. "I'm happy for you, and yeah, I might be biased, but you're the best Captain the Hawks could get. It's fine, Jonny. I know the Hawks have my back and that you guys do too, and that's all I want. I don't want any extra responsibility. The whole leadership thing is your shtick."
Patrick could be an amazing leader—he is, inside the locker room, in his own way, but Jonny gets it.
Jonny lets his head drop against the headrest and nods, letting his eyes fall shut.
He's gonna need all fucking summer to process everything that's been happening these past two weeks.
-
Jonny wakes up the next day to his phone ringing on the nightstand. He's still drunk and sleep-deprived enough to be confused for a minute—he didn't set an alarm; there's nowhere for him to be in the morning—but then he realizes that it's not his alarm but ringtone blaring through the room. His heart still jumps at the sight of Patrick's curls sticking out from underneath the blanket, his face smashed into the pillow next to Jonny while Jonny pushes himself up and fumbles for his phone, accepting the call without checking the caller ID before Patrick's waking up, too.
"Uh, hi?" His voice is rough and scratchy, and he earns laughter back from the other end of the line.
"Fuck, are you still wasted?" someone asks, clearly amused, and Jonny blinks before he knows why the voice sounds so familiar.
"Sid?"
"Hi, Jon," Sid says, still laughing. "I just wanted to say congrats. Sorry, are you drunk, or did I wake you up?"
"Yeah, just woke up; 'm still in bed." Jonny stifles a yawn and rubs at his eyes until he sees a little more clearer. "And a little drunk too, probably."
Next to him, Patrick finally stirs, and Jonny's just about to gesture for him to go back to sleep and slip out of the room when Patrick lifts his head and blinks.
"Who are you talking to you?" he asks, and Jonny's moving away from him, trying to mouth Sid's name, just as Sid lets out an involuntary surprised noise.
"Is that… Patrick Kane?" Oh Shit. Jonny freezes. "In bed with you?"
How Sid recognizes Pat's voice through the line is beyond Jonny, but he suddenly sees his life flashing in front of his eyes, worse than when Seabs caught them. They haven't really talked about this yet; anyone else knowing aside from the team, but he knows Sid would not buy any of the bullshit Jonny's brain would come up to explain this.
"Jon?" Sid asks carefully, and Jonny flinches, watching Patrick frown now, still blinking sleep from his eyes.
"Uh yeah, sorry," he says quickly, voice rough in a way that isn't just due to the sleep. "I'm still here. I, uh—"
"No, I'm—" He's never heard Sid sound so tense. And that's saying something for a guy as intense as Sid. "Sorry, forget I asked. I didn't—I shouldn't have said—" Sid interrupts himself with another shocked noise. "Holy shit, that's why you were constantly out in Philly? The girl we used to tease you about; that was—"
Fuck.
Jonny grimaces at nothing in particular while Patrick starts biting his lower lip—if Sid heard him talk, Patrick must be able to hear Sid well enough to get the gist of their conversation, too—and tentatively rubs a hand along his cheek. Sid would be polite enough to let this go, and Jonny would probably never have to talk about this with him again if he doesn't want to. That's the kind of guy Sid is, but he's also one of Jonny's best friends, and Patrick's not yanked the phone away from him to stop him, so Jonny inhales and lets out a shaky laugh.
"Yeah, that was, uh. Not a girl. Always surprised me that I was able to keep this from you all this time."
Sid laughs softly, but Jonny keeps his eyes on Patrick, whose face has softened now, and Jonny breathes out a sigh of relief when Patrick briefly rests his hand on Jonny's knee and squeezes before he offers a smile and slips out of bed, closing the door behind himself.
"I had my assumptions," Sid says while Jonny watches Patrick leave to give him privacy. "Not about him, obviously. But—I've never seen you with a girl you really seemed to be interested in, never even heard you talk about someone, so… I figured that was just something you didn't want to talk about."
"It was…" Jonny's face twists. "Complicated, I guess. I mean, it wasn't even really a thing back then, between me and him."
Sid is silent for a few seconds. Then— "It wasn't a thing? Jonny, you went to see him after every single game. For years."
"I told you, it was complicated."
Sid huffs. "No, I mean—look, I'm not judging you or anything; I'm just surprised. I had no idea about what you were actually doing." He pauses, and Jonny can hear the open curiosity in his tone now. "But, I… uh, I assume it's become a thing now?"
He's teasing Jonny now; that's easy to tell, and Jonny lets himself laugh as he finally pushes himself up from where he's braced on one hand to lean against the wall instead, blanket pooling around his hips. This is normal; easy. Good.
"Yeah, I guess you can call it that," he says. "A recent thing, but…. Yeah."
He earns a soft chuckle in response. "If it all worked out, and you're happy, then I'm happy for you. And, you know, sorry if you weren't ready yet; I didn't mean to force you to tell me."
"It's fine," Jonny says, and to his own surprise, he actually means it. He doesn't think Patrick's mad about this, and it's nice to get this off his chest after thinking about coming out to his closest friends for the first time in years. Maybe Flower and Tanger will be next; if he's not ready to tell them about Patrick, he could at least mention the whole dating a guy thing. "It kind of sucked, keeping secrets from you," Jonny adds on an exhale. "But it wasn't that I didn't trust you, or didn't—"
"No, I'm not thinking that; I get it," Sid interrupts. He clears his throat. "So, uh, congrats on that Cup. Hell of a season, I knew you had it in you. I'm so glad things worked out for you in Chicago." He laughs a little, like he's still processing just how well things have worked out overall, and Jonny grins back. "I just wanted to tell you that you deserve the success. Go take care of your hangover, eh? You have my number if you need anything."
"Thanks," Jonny says softly. "And I know."
There's never been any doubt in his mind that Sid would have his back. It's nice remembering that the friendships he made in Pittsburgh last, that there's people in his corner outside of Chicago and the Hawks.
"I'll see you over the summer," Sid says. "And watch out. We're coming for that Cup next year."
"You wish," Jonny tells him with a snort before he hangs up, Sid still chuckling at the other end of the line.
Jonny finds Patrick sitting at the kitchen island two minutes later, glancing up from his phone when Jonny enters the room. He doesn't look upset or particularly bothered, only offers a crooked smile when Jonny presses a kiss to his cheek.
"That was Crosby, huh?"
"Yeah." Jonny takes the second mug that's waiting for him next to the coffee pot, the brown liquid still steaming as he wraps his hands around the cup. "I wasn't gonna tell him without talking to you before, but…"
He shrugs, and Patrick lets out a small chuckle. "Nah, it's fine. Was my own fault, and I'm okay with him knowing either way."
He hooks his ankle around Jonny's after Jonny's sat down next to him, and Jonny presses their thighs together.
It feels right, he thinks, to start sharing this with friends and family, to see that people are happy for them. It feels mundane and normal and it's everything he never thought he'd have. There's more people they'll have to talk to and tell about them—hell, Jonny hasn't even told his parents yet—but they have all summer to figure it out. They've made some vague plans to go on vacation and spend time with the families, but part of Jonny's already looking forward to return for the next year.
Chicago was supposed to be a chance, an opportunity to fill a bigger role and grow into the player he always knew he could be. Never in a million years could he have predicted what Chicago would truly offer him, on and off the ice, for his hockey and his life. And it's only been the start in the city that has become his home on the team where he's supposed to be.