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“Hey,” Jake said as he slid into the open seat beside Charlie at one of the hightops in the lounge.
“‘Sup,” Charlie mumbled through a mouthful of AJ’s crepes. He closed the app he was in and put his phone down to give Jake his full attention. “You look like shit.”
“Wow, and you’re just as sunny as ever,” Jake scoffed, nudging Charlie’s thigh with his knee. Charlie pretended that he didn’t feel the ping in his heart at the contact. “Didn’t sleep too well last night.”
“Anything wrong?” Charlie asked, brow furrowing. Jake smiled softly and shook his head.
“Nah,” he shrugged. “Just nervous for the game today, don’t really know why.”
“It’s the Oilers,” Charlie offered. “Could it be because you’re playing your home team?”
“Maybe,” Jake mumbled. He was using his fork to push the fruit around his plate. Charlie could tell something was really bothering him. He cleared his throat and turned in his chair to fully face him.
“JD,” he said steadily. Jake kept pushing his food around his plate. “Jake. Look at me.”
Jake listened, looking over at him. His blue eyes weren’t shining like they usually were. A frown pulled at the corners of Charlie’s mouth. He reached over and patted his shoulder before standing up, turning on his heel, and walking out of the player lounge.
Jake had been one of his best friends for years. Ever since they started to become regulars on the NHL roster they were attached at the hip. So it was really only natural that, over time, some feelings other than friendship would develop. The only problem (if there was just one) was that things seemed to be rather one sided.
Charlie had been pining after Jake for who knows how long. It had been long enough that people were starting to notice. Namely, Patrice Bergeron who had begun to urge Charlie to do something about it.
“Mac, woah, slow down,” Bergy stopped him in the hallway with a hand on the chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, shaking his head as if to clear the thoughts from his mind. “Just, uh, trying to get focused I think.”
“You think?” Bergy asked, raising an eyebrow. He folded his arms and gave Charlie a look. Charlie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, kid, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” Charlie shook his head again and moved to continued down the hall. Bergy grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back. The look he gave him was enough to make him want to cower in a corner and wrap himself in a blanket.
“Charles.”
Full name. Not good.
“Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Jake,” Charlie sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to get away with giving Patrice another load of bullshit about trying to get himself focused on the game. Bergy gently nudged his ankle with his foot, silently urging him to keep talking. “I, uh, still haven’t told him. Came close a few minutes ago but… didn’t happen.”
“Charlie,” Patrice said gently. “This is gonna keep eating you alive until you do something about it.”
“I know, I know,” Charlie groaned, letting his head tip back against the wall behind him. “I just don’t wanna fuck up team chemistry, you know? Everything has been going so well and if I fuck it up because I can’t keep my dick in my pants I’m never going to forgive myself. I’m just gonna wait until the end of the season.”
“If you wait you’re going to kill yourself over it,” Bergy told him. “Trust me on this. Brad and I danced around each other for years out of the same fear. We missed out on almost a decade of what could have been a happy relationship. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “I’ll do it. I just… I just have to figure out how. Thanks, Bergy, for everything.”
Patrice smiled and patted his shoulder before leaving him alone in the hallway. Charlie sighed again and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew Patrice was right. Patrice was always right. But what he wanted- needed Charlie to do was a lot easier said than done.
Charlie shook it out of his head. He would take care of it after the game. He would bring it up while they cooled down on the exercise bikes. That was normal for them, Jake would be comfortable there, Charlie would be able to spring it on him then. But for now he needed to focus on the game in front of him.
The team slowly started to filter into the locker room. Bergy first, of course, who tossed Charlie a knowing look and a nod. Marchy followed after him, delivering his usual ass smack followed by kiss on the cheek. Charlie smiled to himself at their relationship. He wanted that for himself. Garnet and Dimitry walked in a few minutes later, arguing amongst themselves. Charlie thought he picked up on something about a past disagreement between Ovechkin and Oshie.
He didn’t notice when Jake walked in. He felt his presence, though, from across the locker room. He glanced up at him as he taped his socks. Jake was laughing with Pasta about something. He looked so carefree, so… happy. Charlie smiled sadly and looked back at what he was doing.
After the trade deadline things always got chippier than usual. Teams were in the midst of intense playoff pushes, teams including the Oilers. The Bruins, on the other hand, were in full defensive mode as they tried to preserve their commanding lead over the rest of the league while simultaneously chasing a league record. To say Charlie was tired would be an understatement but they needed him for a few games before they could let him rest. Besides, Lindy needed it more than he did right now, especially after the drilling he got against the Kings.
So there he was, sitting on the bench feeling the dull, familiar ache seep deep into his bones as he waited for his second shift. He watched, bouncing his knee as Krej’s line fought to get pucks on net. They were the best at what they did but they’d been out there for close to two minutes. The Oilers finally managed to chip it out.
Charlie hopped over the boards and gathered the puck before circling behind the net as he waited for the rest of the change. He swallowed thickly as he watched Jake gracefully skate into the zone. He tapped his stick against the ice, calling for the puck. Charlie hesitated giving the team enough time to fully change out before making the pass. Jake caught the puck with his usual grace and turned, starting up the ice. Charlie followed, side stepping an Oilers forward.
It felt like the hit was made in the time he blinked. One second Jake was skating into the zone and the next he was being sandwiched between one of the biggest Oilers defensemen and the second he was on the ice, arms up around his face.
“Ref!” Charlie yelled at the top of his lungs, completely forgetting the play continuing to unfold in the zone. “Ref! He’s hurt!”
Charlie skidded to a stop, kneeling next to Jake. The world went quiet as he looked down at him. His jaw was hanging slack and blood was dribbling down his temple from just above his hairline. Charlie felt his heart stop and start again. He let himself get pushed back by one of the trainers as they took his place next to Jake. Bergy appeared beside him.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know what happened,” Charlie mumbled. He didn’t even hear Patrice’s question. “I- I don’t know.”
“It’s not your fault,” Patrice told him. Charlie looked over at him knowing that he must have looked awful. “It’s not.”
“I…” Charlie’s voice trailed off. Bergy pulled him back to give emergency responders room to transport him to a backboard. Charlie watched as they then lifted him into the stretcher. He was awake at the very least, that was something good. And Charlie could have sworn he saw Jake looking at him but he blamed it on his nerves making things up.
“Come on,” Bergy said, taking Charlie’s elbow and guiding him back to the bench. “We just need you for five minutes and then you can go. Alright? Can you give me five more minutes?”
“Yeah,” Charlie nodded as the fog around his head slowly started to lift. “Yeah I’ll be alright.”
The win didn’t feel as good as it should have. Not without Jake right by his side celebrating. Charlie kept looking over at Patrice as he went through the post game motions, waiting for him to tell him he could go run off to the hospital. Bergy would give him a gentle shake of the head and Charlie would purse his lips and look back down at the floor. Five minutes later the process would repeat.
“Charlie,” Bergy said, catching him with a hand on the shoulder. Charlie ran the towel over his head one more time before turning around. He couldn’t get a read on what he was feeling through his facial expression alone.
“How is he?” he asked immediately. His stomach sunk when Patrice drew in a deep breath before answering.
“Asleep,” Bergy replied carefully. “He’s got a really bad concussion and a broken wrist. You… go see him, Charlie. Tell him.”
Charlie didn’t say anything before turning on his heel and running out of the locker room. He didn’t bother with driving, it would take way too long. Instead he set out on foot. It was a fifteen minute walk that he was confident he could make in ten. Besides, he could use the time to clear his head before seeing Jake.
He glanced at the small slip of paper Bergy had passed him with Jake’s room number on it. Mass General was like a maze in his half asleep state. He took a handful of wrong turns before landing outside Jake’s room. He could see him through the small glass panel in the door. His hands shook as he twisted the handle and let himself in.
Suddenly he felt like he should have bought flowers or something. He felt awkward just standing there with nothing but the slip of paper in his hands. But the anxiety trumped the awkwardness. He swallowed thickly and grabbed one of the chairs around the small table in the corner. He dragged it over to Jake’s bedside and sat down.
Jake looked so frail. His skin was pale and there was a nasty looking gash on his hairline that had been stapled. Charlie felt his stomach churn. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stave off the tears that were stinging and threatening to spill down his cheeks.
“Jesus Christ,” Charlie swore under his breath before looking back up. “Jake, please.”
Nothing. He was still asleep. All Charlie could hear was the dull hum of the oxygen machine in the corner. It was weird seeing Jake with oxygen tubing supplying him with oxygen, Charlie always thought that was for old people. Someone as young and as athletic as Jake wasn’t supposed to be lying prone with an artificial supply of oxygen being the only thing preventing him from slipping into a coma with even further brain damage.
Charlie sucked in a shaky breath. He reached out and gingerly took Jake’s hand. His fingers were ice cold. A broken off sob escaped Charlie’s mouth. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
“Jake,” he whimpered. “I love you. Please, God, Jake, wake up. I need… I can’t- I need you. I can’t do this without you. I love you so fucking much, Jake, please.”
Still nothing. Charlie sighed and hastily wiped his tears. A nurse walked in a second later. Charlie retracted his hand as if he had touched a hot stove. He kept his head down, hoping the nurse wouldn’t notice he’d been crying.
“Are you a friend?” she asked, glancing over at him as she copied down some of the information from a monitor on the wall to her clipboard.
“Yeah,” Charlie cleared his throat, sitting back in his chair. “Teammate, actually.”
“He’ll be alright,” she gave him a warm smile as she turned to face him. For some reason Charlie believed her. “I promise.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled. She nodded and quietly slipped out.
Charlie looked back at Jake. He still looked the same. Charlie leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to Jake’s cheek before making himself as comfortable as he could in the hard as a rock hospital chair. He was so tired that, at his point, he was convinced he could fall asleep in the middle of the Mass Pike.
When he woke up the sun was streaming through the blinds and he had about fifty missed calls and a hundred more missed texts. He sighed and turned his phone off, running a hand through his hair.
“Morning princess.”
Charlie looked up so fast he thought for a split second he might have given himself whiplash. Jake was propped up in bed, carefully picking at a gross looking hospital breakfast.
“Jake,” Charlie gasped. He stood up, sending his chair flying back. “Holy shit, you’re awake.”
“Been up for a few hours,” Jake admitted, pushing his tray away from him. “This is disgusting.”
“It’s hospital food,” Charlie laughed shakily as he pulled his chair closer and sat back down.
“You look like shit,” Jake quipped, blue eyes drilling a hole into his forehead. Charlie gave him a look. “Hey, I’m the one that’s concussed, I should be allowed to give you all the crap I want.”
Charlie smiled and nodded. He looked down as he considered letting the barrel containing the ‘I love you’ he let slip last night run him over. He didn’t have the energy to dodge it.
“Jake,” he said before he could stop himself. “I… did… did you hear anything? Last night? I was… when I got here you were asleep. Did, uhm, did you hear anything?”
“Just a lot of beeping,” Jake admitted. He was giving him a weary look out of the corner of his eye. “Why do you ask?”
Charlie didn’t know whether or not to be disappointed. He had the chance to retract his dramatic profession of love. But he didn’t want to. He was… scared. He had come scarily close to losing Jake and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let the rest of their time go by without saying it.
“Jake,” he was losing the internal battle. “I…”
“I love you.”
Charlie’s head snapped up again at the words. Jake had a soft smile on his face.
“I know,” he said. “I heard someone sobbing next to my bed around midnight. Thought it could only be you.”
“I do,” Charlie nodded. “Love you, that is. I… Bergy has been trying to get me to admit for months. If not a year. I, uh, I’ve been in love with you for a while, Jake.”
“Charlie,” Jake said. He reached for Charlie’s hand. He gazed at him, slack jawed as he waited for Jake to say something else. “You’re not slick. I’ve seen the way you stare at me across the locker room. And I should have figured that it would take me winding up in the hospital for either of us to do something about it.”
“What are you-”
“Marchy’s been having the same talk with me for the past few months,” Jake cut him off gently. “I was gonna say something to you after the game.”
“So was I,” Charlie laughed.
“Charlie,” Jake said.
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
A smile split Charlie’s face. He leaned in and carefully pressed his lips to Jake’s. They were chapped and cold but it was still Jake. Charlie squeezed his hand as he pulled away. His eyes were still closed as he let the energy between the two of them charge.
“I love you,” Jake murmured, squeezing his hand back.
“Don’t fucking scare me like that again,” Charlie scolded him as he sat back in his chair. Jake narrowed his eyes at him. Charlie lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist.