Work Text:
“If I tell you something…” Luke starts, flopping onto the couch across from Jack’s spot on the comfy armchair, “will you promise not to freak out?”
Jack’s automatic thought is that’s never a good way to start a conversation. But Luke’s his little brother who, like Quinn, has a tendency to overthink things into way bigger deals than they actually are. If Nico said that, Jack would be a hell of a lot more worried than he is right now.
So he keeps his eyes on the book he’s reading and mindlessly answers, “Sure, shoot.”
“You promise?” The hesitance in his voice makes Jack turn his nose up from his page to look over at Luke. He’s sporting big, sad eyes, his bottom lip pulled tight between the rows of his teeth. That’s slightly more concerning.
“Yeah, bud.” Jack says, rifling through his mental catalogue of the previous crazy shit that’s come out of Luke’s mouth with that tone. If it’s anything like the last few things he’s divulged after similar situations then it’ll be something to do with an injury. That’s not something Jack is willing to not freak out about.
But if it’ll get Luke to tell him, then he’ll just have to beg for forgiveness after they’ve sorted out the problem. It’s one of Jack’s best qualities - shoving his foot in his mouth by making a promise to one of his brothers and then instantly doing the opposite. At twenty-five, he’s very good at gaining their forgiveness.
“I’m just going to say it, okay?” The question seems rhetorical so Jack keeps his mouth shut, watches Luke take a big, steeling breath and then not continue.
“Lukey, c’mon.” Jack says, reaching forward to poke at his toe so he doesn’t have to get up fully, “It’s fine.”
“Right, okay- fuck.” He shoves his face into his hands and groans, big and loud and totally overdramatic.
Well, Jack’s just going to have to take control here. Ask some leading questions and hope that he can figure it out on his own. For Luke’s loud entrance, he’s not giving much away.
“Are you hurt?” Jack asks.
Luke shakes his head.
“Have you committed a crime?” Jack asks.
Luke shakes his head.
“Have you got a girl pregnant?” Jack asks.
Luke flinches so violently he nearly falls off the couch.
“Have you got a girl pregnant?” Jack repeats.
With a scarily humourless laugh, Luke brings his head out of his hands and looks up at the ceiling, “Kind of the opposite.”
“Huh?” Jack is totally dumfounded. He doesn’t have the slightest idea what Luke means and Luke won’t look at him, so Jack can’t read his expression through brotherly telepathy alone, “What’re you talking about?”
Luke seems to ready himself - squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath - but his voice is nearly inaudible when he whispers into the dimly lit living room, “I have a boyfriend.”
“Okay.” Jack says, settling back into his seat and huffing a big breath of relief, “And?”
“And what?” Luke quirks a brow, just like their dad does, and stares at Jack with those cow eyes like he’s trying to figure out a complicated maths problem.
“And what have you done wrong?”
“What have I- what have I done wrong? What the fuck? I’ve not done anything wrong!”
“Hey, chill. What are you so freaked out about then?” Jack shifts slightly, lowers his tone into the calm one their mom used to use on them when they had lost a division final in juniors.
This whole ordeal is confusing the shit out of Jack. Luke comes in, stressed and scared, scares Jack with a trauma response to his tone of voice, tells him he’s seeing someone and then gets upset when Jack asks what the problem is. Surely, they’ve had a fight or Luke needs some kind of advice or he’s bringing it up so Jack can vet this new guy before Luke considers introducing him to the rest of the family.
“I told you I've got a boyfriend. A boyfriend, Jack! And you don’t have anything to say?” He’s pacing now, long, uncoordinated limbs flailing as he burns holes in the living room rug. His voice is frantic-sounding, pitched higher, louder than his usual volume. Much more than his comfortable register and even his media register and even more so than his hockey register.
Luke’s a character. Hockey fans will never deny that and Jack will never deny that. But when he’s with his family, he’s that same character in a toned down sort of way. Their family just get him, know what he means when he’s terse and sassy and witty. When he’s with the team he’s halfway between home and camera-facing - thinks about what he’s gonna say for a couple seconds longer than when he’s with his brothers and parents, takes a while to get to the point of friendship with someone where they understand his sense of humour and especially keeps that little guard up where his self-deprecating jokes and hangriness stay in the confines of their Jersey City apartment or the Lakehouse.
In front of the media Luke is very like Quinn - doesn’t let a lot of his personality show, thinks through every possible answer to every possible question in conversations he has with himself in the middle of the night to prepare for interviews and media scrums and fans cornering him in the street. His actions are goofy but his words are carefully curated into sentences people can’t overanalyse too much and switch up to give another meaning.
Jack tunes back in to the room as Luke flings himself onto the floor at Jack’s feet, legs crossed into a basket beneath his hips and elbows digging into his thighs, “You’ve gotta give me a little more than this, Moose. You make it look like you’re gonna confess to a bank heist and instead tell me you have a boyfriend. What did you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, okay! Maybe- oh, here’s an idea! Maybe, since when are you into guys?” Luke basically screams. He started freaking out because he thought Jack would freak out. And now he’s freaking himself out over Jack not freaking out.
It’s all a little fucked, in Jack’s humble opinion.
If there’s one thing that Jack couldn't give less of a fuck about, it’s the gender of the person touching Luke’s dick. Sure, he wants the person to be kind, respectable, gentle with his sensitive baby brother. But he couldn’t care less if that person is a man or a woman.
“Luke, since when are you into men?” Jack asks, hands spread out in front of him to placate Luke.
His younger brother stops dead still, frozen on the floor with wide, wild eyes and mouth agape. Jack watches the situation unfold, can basically see the cogs that were previously whirring in Luke’s head halt their repetitive spinning.
“You just told me to ask that.” Jack deadpans, “Now you look like I said I shot this guy.”
“Shut it.” Luke snaps, reaching out to flick Jack’s knee, “Hearing you ask it is different than me saying it.”
“Look at me, please.” Jack says. His face softens when Luke follows the command and all he sees is a nineteen year old Luke preparing for his first game in The Show.
An eighteen year old Luke the morning of his Zoom draft.
A fourteen year old Luke on his first day at their new school in Michigan.
A twelve year old Luke with a fractured ankle and the fear that he was never going to play hockey again.
A nine year old Luke with a big bruise on his cheek from tripping on a stair.
A five year old Luke with his first pair of skates that weren’t Quinn’s hand-me downs turned Jack’s hand-me-downs.
A three year old Luke being given Quinn’s game winning goal puck, totally amazed and looking at his big brother like he’d been sent straight from heaven to make Luke’s day.
A two day old Luke coming home from the hospital in a tiny hockey jersey that was still too big and a matching hat to keep his tiny head warm.
“When did you know you were attracted to men?” Jack asks, reaching forward to settle steadying hands on Luke’s shoulders, thumbs gently swiping the fabric of Quinn’s shirt that’s pulled tight around his torso.
“Two years ago, I think.” Luke whispers, eyes a little wet. He sniffles once and then shakes his head, pushing the tears back and feigning total confidence, “A win in Dallas, the steakhouse we went to after.”
“You gonna tell me who?” Jack asks with the slightest smile on his face. Yeah, Luke might be having a bit of a crisis but Jack will forever be his big brother and will always take the opportunity to tease him.
He really hopes it will have the desired effect of calming Luke down, rather than the completely possible but totally undesirable opposite reaction of sending him fleeing.
“The bartender.” Luke flushes, a light pink spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, “I’m not telling you anything more than that.”
“Okay, okay.” A laugh slips out of Jack involuntarily, one thumb digging into Luke’s collarbone, “Tell me about your boyfriend, then.”
And they go from there. Jack leans forward in his chair with his fingers tracing shapes on Luke’s shirt and listens to him gush about his boyfriend for over an hour. He watches the sharp, private smile take hold of Luke’s face - not just his lips, but his eyes light up and his nose scrunches when his lips stretch impossibly wider.
The joy takes years off of Luke, makes Jack forget that he’s twenty-two and not eighteen in college making top-pair in his freshman year. He shows Jack a few photos but refuses to tell him much more.
They discuss Jack’s lack of care for the gender of Luke’s partner and his deep desire for favourable characteristics in their personality. His absolute need for Luke to be safe and happy and taken care of.
Jack manages to convince him to call Quinn together. Distance being the only reason Luke was hesitant, he’d much rather tell him in person. Jack thinks he’s making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. But he’s not a queer NHL player coming out for the first time, so he’s gentle with the prodding and makes sure that they have a typical catch up with Quinn and he’s actually comfortable before he nudges his knee and nods encouragingly from just outside the video frame.
Quinn takes it pretty much the same way as Jack, other than assuming Luke did something wrong and that was why he was coming out. Jack can admit to himself - privately in the confines of his own mind - that he was a bit dense not realising Luke was coming out, and just assuming that he had fucked up.
When they separate later that night to go to bed, Luke pulls Jack into a side hug and simply says, “Thanks for not freaking out.”
When Luke lugs his gear bag and overnight duffle into Ryan’s apartment he’s greeted with the obnoxious clicking of a keyboard and nothing else. He drops the bags by the coatrack since Jack isn’t here to police the clearance of fire exits and clutter.
He follows the noise to the makeshift office space in the corner of the open-plan living area. His boyfriend is bundled up in Luke’s spare Devils training hoodie, hunched over his laptop screen as he flits between his keyboard and a huge hard-back book.
“Baby,” Luke says softly, running his hands across the tense shoulders in front of him. He thought by now the sight of Ryan relaxing into his touch would’ve stopped softening him so much but the occurrence almost eight months into their relationship produces the same result, “Hey."
Luke feels the stress in his own body shrivel up into a little ball in his chest and melt with the warmth flooding through him as he leans down to kiss the mess of hair on Ryan’s head. Ryan leans back and rests the back of his head on Luke’s chest, their eyes meeting through the lenses of Ryan’s reading glasses.
“Hi.” Ryan whispers, puckering his lips for a proper kiss before he turns back to his computer, “I missed you. I need a half hour, then I’m all yours.”
“I missed you too.” Luke replies, running one hand through the fluffy hair drooping over Ryan’s forehead, “I’m gonna shower anyway, don’t rush.”
Luke returns in his pyjamas despite it still being the early afternoon - he’s got no plans until midday stake tomorrow for a late game and he’s going to enjoy every minute of this peaceful evening with his boyfriend. The second half of the season is picking up quick, the Olympic break compressing their final schedule and pushing the players to their limits. And while Luke is grateful for the nearly-three week break that he got to spend with Ryan, he’s not very happy at his fate of being on the road so much in the next two months.
He had voiced his annoyance about it to Ryan early one morning, legs intertwined and noses nearly touching to keep warm in the February chill. And Ryan had been the totally reasonable, type-A man he is when he told Luke that it would be good for him too, would give him time to finish the second chapter of his thesis and catch up on his lecture notes.
All of which, Luke understands but doesn't appreciate. He can admit that to himself and has admitted it to Ryan.
Ryan’s got a highlighter cap hanging from his lips now as he leans towards his book, finger scanning the line he’s reading to keep himself on track. Luke knows that means he’s very close to being finished if his eyes can’t focus on the lines as clearly as he does at the beginning of a research day.
Luke pads across the room, taps Ryan’s shoulder to get him to stand up and takes his boyfriend’s place on the roller chair. Once he’s wiggled into a comfortable position he pulls Ryan down into his lap and loops his arms around his torso.
As Ryan finishes up, Luke hooks his chin over his shoulder and skims the document on the screen. He reads the information without even attempting to fully process it, just registers the fancy, academic wording of half-formed arguments and evidence and historical themes.
It’s something Luke respects about his boyfriend. He’s way too smart for Luke. And to the very core of his bones, Luke knows this and thinks about it everyday and is grateful for Ryan choosing him anyway.
One of Luke’s hands traces little circles on the exposed skin at the top of his sweatpants and he says, “How is your brain still working?”
“I don’t think it is.” Ryan mumbles around the pen cap, “I’ve been on this page for fifteen minutes.”
“A break maybe?” Luke questions, lips grazing the back of Ryan’s neck with his words, “You can tell me about this chapter.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Before he starts a mini lecture, Ryan swing his legs around to straddle Luke and pushes his glasses up into his hair. He leans down for another kiss, slow and deep and with no intention of going any further than just being close, “Where did I get to last time?”
Luke answers with their lips still touching, “Diverging paths. You told me about girls and were about to write the boys half.”
Ryan leans back instinctively, steadying himself with his hands on Luke’s shoulders and launches into a background for Luke before he tells him his theorised argument, “I’ve only planned that bit, I still need to flush it out into proper paragraphs. Okay, so, it wasn’t as easy as one main path for boys like marriage for girls. Most boys would follow in their father’s footsteps but social status impacted their possible success before they were even ten - like lower status sons would follow their father into their trade but an equestrian’s son would do the same and then try to climb the political ladder. It was a familial expectation, cultural tradition rather than compulsory…”
Ryan always says Luke is a good sounding board for his ideas, something about write for an informed but non-specialist audience. Luke’s always liked history documentaries and loved the Roman Empire in school, so he knows about the conquests and the wars but not nearly enough for the specificities of Ryan’s thesis. That means that he can say when something needs more explanation or has been over-simplified.
When dinner arrives, Ryan shelves college work for the day. Luke jumps downstairs to collect the food from the lobby while he packs up all his stuff ready for a late library trip tomorrow. They curl up on the couch together with a low-budget horror movie playing and eat Thai food while predicting when the jump scares will occur.
“Oh!” Luke announces around a mouthful of toothpaste as they’re getting ready for bed. At Ryan’s tilted head he holds up a finger to remind himself to finish what he was going to say and spits and rinses, then cuddles up close to Ryan’s back while he flosses, “I told Quinn and Jack. About me, about us.”
“Yeah?” Ryan asks, smiling at Luke in their reflections in the mirror, “How did it go?”
“They were so fine about it that Jack thought I’d done something wrong and was just asking for advice, didn’t realise that I was coming out.”
Ryan doubles over with laughter and lets Luke hold him up with a gentle smile on his face, “Why does that not really surprise me?”
“Well, I’ve told you all the stupid shit he’s done.” Luke quips, nipping Ryan’s hip to hurry him up so they can get to bed, “I know you said it would be fine, but I’m so happy it was.”
“Good.” Ryan says, cupping Luke’s cheeks gently with his hands, thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones, “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
They share another kiss under the fluorescent bathroom lighting and Ryan jumps into Luke’s arms to be carried to bed. Diva.
When they cuddle up under the covers, Luke rests his head against Ryan’s chest and falls asleep with Ryan’s heartbeat thudding under his ear and Ryan’s fingers in his hair.
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Luke whispers into Ryan’s bare shoulder. Ryan flips in his arms, brushing their noses together, “It’ll be a lot, I know that.”
“Hey, I’m not saying I don’t want to.” Ryan chides, poking at the tip of Luke’s nose, “I’m just nervous and want to make a good impression.”
“Wear your glasses, that’ll make a good impression.”
“Sure, I’ll go to dinner with your brothers and be thinking about you wanting to jump by bones the whole time because I’ve got my glasses on.” Ryan laughs, pushing at Luke’s shoulder and already feeling more relaxed. There’s still seven hours before they meet, there’s time for a crisis when Luke’s not here.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, I want to jump your bones all the time.”
“Very comforting. Thanks for that, Lu.” Instead of answering, Luke tips forward and nuzzles into Ryan’s shoulder, kitten-licking at the skin there.
After their lazy morning in bed, they get ready together. Luke’s staying with Ryan for the week so Quinn can avoid staying in a hotel and have his bedroom. They separate in the elevator as Luke drives to the rink to practice with his brothers and Ryan walks to the library.
There’s no specific reason for him being there, his exams are finished and his second chapter isn’t due to his advisor until the end of June. But sometimes the only way for Ryan to clear his head is to think about things that have no relevance to his personal life, and what has the least relevance to his personal life? The Roman Empire nearly two-thousand years ago.
He spends the afternoon sifting through the edits suggested for his first chapter - both from his student advisor and Peggy, the middle aged woman also going for her masters who he agreed to peer-read with at the beginning of the year.
With noise-cancelling headphones tucked into his ears, Ryan listens to music rather than the white noise he usually opts for when doing intense work. This is just a way for him to kill some time until he needs to get ready for dinner and stop him from spending all day thinking about what he’s going to wear.
At four o’clock a text chimes through Ryan’s Do Not Disturb, and he checks it with a smile as Luke tells him to pack up because he’s waiting outside to take him home. Seeing Luke Hughes standing outside Rutgers main library in a nondescript tracksuit and sunglasses resting on his face is not something that Ryan sees often. Last semester Luke would always wait in the car but now that most students have headed home and it’s only the grad students hanging around, he obviously feels a bit more comfortable collecting Ryan at the door. What a gentleman.
He takes Ryan’s backpack and tote, complains about the weight of the books inside but doesn’t let Ryan take the bags back and even opens the passenger door when they reach the car. They sing obnoxious pop music on the drive back to Ryan’s apartment, Luke spending the first thirty seconds of every song pretending he doesn’t know the words and then belting the chorus with his entire being.
By the time Ryan has showered and is buttoning up a freshly pressed linen shirt, his nerves are gone. He knows Luke, has heard from Luke all the traits of his personality that he gets from his brothers and rationalises with himself that these two men are extensions of Luke. And if they’re half as kind and funny and thoughtful as Luke, then there really is nothing to worry about.
They go to a hole-in-the-wall, Italian restaurant that’s tucked up into the weird bit of Jersey City that’s suburbia merging with the city. The place smells great and Luke hired a private room meant for twenty for just the four of them.
The waitress leads them back to the empty table and gives them a wine list and says she’ll be back when their other party members arrive. It gives Ryan some time to settle into the space without prying eyes. As soon as Quinn and Jack enter the room, the anxiety floods back in.
Yeah, these men might be lovely. They are Luke’s brothers so Ryan knows all the way down to the marrow of his bones that they will be lovely. But they are also Luke’s big brothers. They’re going to want to make sure he’s good enough for the baby of their family.
And he’s no athlete, not by a country mile. Ryan has spent his entire life shoving his nose into books and learning everything he can about the people of the past. He did not spend his formative years in the rink with a team of boys who wanted to win just as much as each other did. He did not lace up and tape up and gear up for hours of skating on cold, hard ice.
He had a colour-coded highlighter system and a favourite brand of pen and refused to write in any notebook but the ones from that specific independent store in Saint Paul. He had three bookshelves in his apartment and spent his days in libraries and archives and lecture halls.
“Moose!” Quinn exclaims as he pulls Luke into his arms forcibly, shaking Ryan from his thought thunderstorm.
Luke booms a laugh as he pats Quinn’s back, doing the exact same thing with Jack even though all three of them spent the day training together. Ryan hangs a few steps back, hovering behind Luke and using their height difference to block himself from view.
“Q, Rowdy, this is Ryan.” Luke says softly, resting his hand on the small of Ryan’s back, pushing him forward slightly, “Ry, this old one is Quinn and the annoying one is Jack.”
“Hey, dude. Nice to meet you.” Quinn says mildly, reaching his hand out for Ryan to shake.
“You guys, too. Luke’s told me a lot about you.” Ryan answers, shaking Jack’s hand, too.
Ryan sits beside Luke and across from Quinn, letting Jack rant to Luke about someone who cut off their Uber on the way here. Luke hooks his ankle around Ryan’s, the toe of his sneaker tapping Ryan’s calf in the same pattern he traces shapes into his skin with his fingers.
It does enough to calm him for the time being, gets him through ordering and agreeing on Quinn’s wine of choice. Jack asks about his degree, teaming up with Quinn to tease Luke about being the only one there who doesn’t read. Ryan instantly makes the connection in his head that if all else fails he can talk books.
“Oi, I read Ryan’s thesis.” Luke protests, looking to Ryan for backup with big, pleading eyes. He really is the baby of the family.
“Baby, I’m really thankful for all your help. I am. But you don’t read my thesis, I run simplified arguments past you to check they make sense.”
Quinn laughs as Luke’s face drops, the red climbing up his cheeks noticeable in the dimly lit room. Jack reaches across the table to fist-bump Ryan, bright-eyed and bushy tailed as he says, “I like of this one, Lukey. He keeps you on your toes.”
As their appetisers arrive they move onto asking questions about Ryan’s family life. He answers easily, not expanding too much unless it’s asked of him and listens as Luke gives more details for him.
Quinn loves the fact that he’s from Minnesota. Luke tells them that one time in elementary school, Ryan went on a field trip to Grand Casino.
Jack asks to see photos of Smudge, the family dog. Luke tells them that when Ryan was home for Christmas he met Smudge on FaceTime and got to see him do all the tricks Ryan taught him when he was a teenager.
Ryan tells them about his little sister who’s a freshman going for a communications major at Metropolitan State and wants to go into media management when she graduates. Luke tells them that the next time they play in Minnesota he’ll have to leave Quinn all on his own to deal with Jack as he goes to meet Ryan’s family.
Luke goes into the detail he knows of Ryan’s thesis, tries to tell Quinn he’d probably have a better chance of understanding it fully since he reads historical non-fiction and it starts a conversation about what Ryan actually does.
“Lu, there’s not many people who are interested in the development of youth in the Roman Empire.” Ryan says, trying to reign in his boyfriend’s adorable enthusiasm, “It’s not as exciting as the wars, it’s more cultural. Please, don’t feel like you have to indulge.”
“I’m open to anything. I wouldn’t be able to give you any tips but I would definitely read it.” Quinn replies, eyes kind and voice honest.
“Well, when it’s finished next year the offer will still stand.” Luke jumps in, running his hand up Ryan’s arm and squeezing his bicep, “Stop talking down the work that you put loads of effort into, please.”
“Sorry.” Ryan chirps back, no hint of apology in his voice at all. He laughs softly as Luke swats at his side.
Ryan’s surprised when the waitress from earlier comes back into the room and tells them that she’s very sorry but in thirty minutes the restaurant is closing and they’re taking last orders. For some kind of inside joke Ryan isn’t privy to, Jack makes them all drink a neat Scotch whiskey.
Both Quinn and Luke groan and laugh but oblige, so Ryan does too. Just as Luke’s asking to box up the mammoth slice of cake he didn’t finish, Ryan heads off to the toilet. When he’s washing his hands, Quinn appears in the bathroom, they’re the only people in there. The dining room was practically empty on the walk through the restaurant.
“Hey, hope we didn’t scare you off.” He says, leaning against the other end of the sinks from Ryan.
“No, you didn’t. I had a great time tonight, I’m really glad Luke has you both, he worships you guys.” As the words come out of Ryan’s mouth, he realises he maybe shouldn’t have said it. That was one of those things that Luke whispered in the middle of the night, in the cozy, closed off from the world space of Ryan’s bed, “Don’t tell him I told you that.”
Quinn huffs a gentle laugh, reaches forward to pat his shoulder, “I already knew that, don’t worry. I’m happy he has you, you’re good for him.”
“He’s good for me.” Ryan argues back, not one for taking compliments well.
“Fine, you’re good for each other. I only have one thing to ask.” Quinn straightens as he says it, like he’s preparing for Ryan to shut him down now that Luke’s not here.
“Go for it.”
“Please, don’t break his heart.” There’s a softness in Quinn’s eyes that doesn’t match his serious tone. He watches Ryan react to it.
Ryan knows his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he feels his breath stutter. That’s the last thing in the world he’d ever want to do, “I think if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed again. I haven’t told Luke this yet, but I love him and I can see a future with him. If I ever hurt him, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
“Good.” Quinn says simply, forcing a laugh out of Ryan at the bluntness of it. The seriousness leaves Quinn in an instant, gentle smile slipping back onto his lips, “I beat Jack for a shovel talk, which I think is the best for everyone.”
“Yeah?” Ryan asks, head tilting and one eyebrow quirking upwards slightly.
“Oh yeah, he’d try to scare the shit out of you and only embarrass himself.”
“That tracks, from what I’ve heard from Lu.”
“He’s a bit of a dick but he does it out of love.”
“I get that, I’d be the same with Emily.” Quinn nods in understanding, big brother to big brother, “Are you even here to go to the bathroom?”
“Nah, just wanted to catch you before you left.”
“Bit creepy, bud.” Ryan comments cheekily, opening the door for Quinn and trailing him back through the restaurant.
They say their goodbyes as Ryan and Luke’s Uber arrives, the handshakes from earlier turning into hugs between them all. Quinn does a little awkward wave as the car drives past them on the street corner and Ryan drops his head heavily onto Luke’s shoulder.
“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, scraping his fingers against Ryan’s nape. Ryan nods into his sweater, inching up to peck Luke’s neck.
The rest of the drive back is quiet, gentle music playing through the speakers as Luke chats amicably with the driver. Ryan is pleasantly tipsy on the elevator trip up to his apartment, more drunk on the happiness from the night than the wine he’d stopped drinking just before dessert.
They laugh as they brush their teeth and get pyjamas on. When Luke says he needs a drink before bed, Ryan jumps onto his back and grips him like a koala as Luke flicks the lights off and makes his way back through the apartment. Ryan is unceremoniously dropped in the middle of the bed, laughter loud and full of happiness.
As he lays there looking at the ceiling, tiredness quickly seeps under his skin and into his bones. He whines and pats the bed once he’s arranged himself onto his side and is watching Luke hang his sweater up too slowly for his liking.
Ryan shoves his bare feet between Luke’s shins and pushes his face into his neck, breathing in the last of his cologne. Luke runs a big hand up and down his spine, whispering about the time Quinn ripped Jack’s braces out to lull Ryan to sleep.
A year later, when Ryan graduates with his Masters of Arts in Classical Studies he has celebratory dinner with his parents, his sister, his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brothers. Luke cheers the loudest at the ceremony, Jack forces them all to have a whiskey at the end of their meal and the back room that they ate dinner in the first time Ryan met Quinn and Jack is rented out again to them.
Quinn, Jack and Luke split the bill despite Ryan’s family’s objections. Saying it’s their treat and Ryan’s parents can get the next one if it’s such a bother. His mom hugs all three brothers, kisses their cheeks and ruffles their hair even though they try to fix it as soon as she turns her back.
A week after Ryan’s thesis is given back to him, he nestles it in the back of his backpack as he, Luke and Jack fly to Michigan for the summer. Quinn picks them up at the airport and Luke lasts five minutes before he spills the fact that Ryan brought it for Quinn to read.
When Ryan wakes up the next morning and leaves Luke sleeping with a gentle kiss to his forehead, he finds Quinn on the back deck with a coffee and the thesis open. They chat about it for a while, Quinn asks questions, Ryan gets to ramble about the research he did but couldn’t fit into the project.
Luke joins them, nudges Ryan over on the sun lounger and falls asleep with his arms wrapped around his waist and his head in his lap. They waste the morning away chatting, only interrupted by Luke mumbling something in his sleep and Quinn refilling their coffee cups until Jack surfaces near noon and rants about getting the boat out enough to get himself pushed in the lake.
Ryan never thought that being an NHL player’s boyfriend could be like this. He thought it would be lonely, he thought he would be a dirty little secret and he would be expected to stay home all day and have dinner ready for Luke getting home from practice.
And, yeah. Luke’s not out to the public right now, but Ryan’s met the team as Luke’s boyfriend, is in a WAG group chat that Nico’s girlfriend set up a year before he came on the scene and Luke’s seriously debating not coming out and just posting a photo of them kissing on his Instagram for the world to see.
Ryan is three years into his PHD when Luke proposes in the little back room of the hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant in Jersey City and no captions a photo of Ryan in Luke’s arms, ring visible on his social media. The next morning Ryan scrolls Luke’s phone and sees Quinn and Jack shared the post and sees all the congratulatory comments and sees the Twitter sleuths compiling public images where Ryan is in the background or crowd footage of games where he’s in the stands.
It’s all a little fucked, Ryan thinks. Their desire to find out who he is and where he comes from and his social security number. But the support is overwhelming and as long as Luke will be celebrated by his team and fans, Ryan has no objections to them finding out Luke has bagged someone who is on his way to getting a doctorate.