Title: Every Time
Pairing: Kane/Toews. AGAIN
Summary: Patrick keeps trying to Jonny he loves him. Jonny keeps kissing him. No one understands anything.
ANOTHER KANER/TAZER. I don't know, it's a thing.
The first time Patrick tells Jonny I love you, Jonny laughs so hard he almost drowns.
"It's not like walking was gonna be that miserable," Jonny laughs, hoisting himself out of the pool and coming over to Patrick. Patrick bites his lip, doesn't know how to say that he didn't meant he loves Jonny for offering to give him a piggyback ride back into the hotel, he meant he just loves Jonny because Jonny always does this, things that are caring, are automatic for him. Patrick doesn't elaborate, just climbs onto a chair so he can get on Jonny’s back. He holds on tight, breathes in the scent of Jonny’s skin and chlorine.
"Walking's just so tiring," he says, and Jonny laughs, shakes his head.
“Lazy," he says, soft like he thinks it's a petname.
"You're tall, you don't understand the challenging life of people under six feet."
"Maybe you and Shawsy should start a support group."
"I'm taller than him though!" Patrick protests, and Jonny just laughs. "I am! That's part of my identity, you know, not being the shortest one on the team. So if Shawsy gets taller, I'll kill him."
"Don't worry, I'll still like you even if you're the shortest."
"Thanks," Patrick rolls his eyes, even though it's kind of nice to hear. It's not nearly far enough to their hotel room, but Jonny agrees to go look through the lobby and stop to talk to Hayes and Sharpy. Patrick doesn't even try to listen, just traces one thumb over Jonny’s shoulder and holds onto him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first time Jonny kisses Patrick, he's not even sure Patrick notices. Patrick’s busy screaming and grabbing onto Jonny so he won't fall, their teammates surrounding them, this day they won it all. All Jonny sees is Patrick, which is fitting, because that's the way the whole season was, a season of days where he never had to go without Patrick for long. Patrick just grins and hugs him, and Jonny uselessly thinks he should have kissed Patrick on the lips instead.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The second time Patrick tells Jonny, he's terrified, saying anything because he can't hear a word, can't hear anything but the wall of sound from the fans, screaming about the dirty hit that's left Jonny flat on the ice, unmoving. But they're on the road, the fans probably think it was fine, was fair, that it's okay that Jonny is motionless. The ref hasn't even gotten here yet, it's just Patrick, on his knees next to Jonny, begging.
"Please get up, okay? Be alright, okay, I love you, you gotta be okay, and if he gave you a concussion I'm tearing his fucking head off-"
"Patrick," Jonny says faintly, pushes himself up a little, wincing, "you're a third the size of him."
"Fine time to be so exact about measurements," Patrick manages, so relieved he could cry. "You alive?"
"Close enough."
"But your head-"
"Totally okay." Jonny gets on his knees, makes a face. Patrick helps him up, might clutch him a little too tight.
"You better be telling the truth," he warns.
"Promise." He lets Patrick slowly help him towards the bench, hanging on tightly to him. Patrick has to stay on the ice as Jonny's taken back down the tunnel. He wants to protest this, wants to insist that he has to go with Jonny, because Patrick loves him and just needs to know he's okay. Patrick stays where he is, wonders if Jonny heard his I love you, if he believed it this time.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jonny feels a little better by the end of the game. He didn't hit his head, thankfully, that would have been so painful, to see that kind of fear on Patrick's face. And - just painful, but it's Patrick's worry that comes to mind first.
When Jonny comes out of the shower, he finds Patrick nearly asleep, kind of watching some reality show.
"What the hell's this?" Jonny asks, climbing onto the bed beside him. Patrick yawns, shrugs a shoulder.
"Claudia's hosting a street party for her daughter’s graduation, and Sophia's decided to have her own brand of tequila, but Carla thinks she's ripping off her idea to buy a vineyard," Patrick reports, and Jonny laughs. Patrick claims not to watch these housewives of wherever shows, but he gives exceptionally precise summaries for someone that doesn't follow them.
"Yeah, okay." Jonny stretches out next to him, and Patrick turns towards him, yawning.
"Whatever, man. They spent the first half hour arguing because Sophia got her kid a horse and Carla won't let her board it at her stables."
"Uh-huh. Maybe you oughta just go to sleep."
"Yeah maybe." Patrick pulls a pillow towards himself as Jonny turns off the TV. "You scared the fuck out of me today," he says, half muffled by the pillow.
"Sorry." This is why Jonny wants to avoid being hurt - not for the pain, but because somehow, hurting himself is to hurt Patrick too, something that is infinitely more painful. Jonny leans down, kisses Patrick's curls in apology. He doesn't know how that can mean anything but I love you, I love you for caring and I love you for worrying, but this second kiss he's ever given Patrick changes nothing.
0O0O0O0O0O0O0O
They’re on the plane, only fifteen minutes into the long flight home, and Patrick can't sleep. He's got a balled-up blanket against the wall as a pillow and can't stop shifting restlessly, no position comfortable. He almost whines out loud when Jonny gets up, wants to promise he won't be fidgety anymore so Jonny will stay.
"Dude," Patrick says helplessly, but then Jonny's back with a pillow that makes Patrick jealous.
"Here," Jonny says, propping it against his shoulder between them, and Patrick smiles.
"I love you," he says, meets his gaze so Jonny knows he means it, this third I love you that Patrick means so, so much, but Jonny just smiles and tells him to go to sleep. Patrick shifts around so his head's on Jonny's shoulder, closes his eyes. Jonny kisses his forehead because that's what Jonny does, cares about him almost in the way Patrick wants. Patrick wants to kiss him too, but he's afraid Jonny would take it like this, the friends-only affection, so he'll just stick to telling Jonny I love you and hoping Jonny will realise that he means what he says, that it means just what it says- that Patrick loves him enough to risk the world to have him. Patrick doesn't know how to tell him more plainly than this, I love you over and over.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
They get back to Chicago at nearly three in the morning, and Jonny spends most of the day asleep. By the evening, though, his apartment still feels empty and kind of - lonely, maybe, so when someone knocks on the door, he’s ridiculously excited. It’s even better when he sees that it’s Patrick, because somehow, Jonny misses him even though he technically already saw Patrick today, telling Patrick to drive carefully and get some sleep, hugging him goodbye in the airport parking lot.
“What’s up?” Jonny lets him in, kind of wants to hug him for the way he smiles.
“Didn’t you miss me?”
“Yeah, separation anxiety kicks in at around three hours apart.”
“Well,” Patrick turns to grin at Jonny over his shoulder, “better than mine, I can’t last more than an hour. So, what d’you wanna play?”
“Oh, anything,” Jonny says, agreeable when he gets to have Patrick. They end up playing GTA4, because Patrick’s always got a list of rumours he wants to investigate. Today, he’s looking for some monster in the subway, getting increasingly more impatient.
“Maybe it’s hiding. Or riding the subway,” Patrick says. He’s sprawled out on the couch, his head on Jonny’s leg, and Jonny doesn’t know how he can play when the screen’s practically upside-down to him, but doesn’t care because he just likes having Patrick this close.
“I don’t think monsters ride the subway,” he says, absent-mindedly playing with Patrick’s curls.
“Maybe it has its own train?”
They play for a while, passing the controller back and forth, until Jonny goes to hand Patrick the controller for his turn, and finds that Patrick’s nearly asleep.
“Patrick,” he says softly, “dude, just go to bed.”
“Yeah, okay,” Patrick curls in towards him, yawning, “take me.”
“You’re short, but you’re still heavy.”
“You can so carry me,” Patrick says, “bet you ten bucks.”
“Which way are you even betting?” Jonny asks, but he’s already standing and stretching. “Okay, come on.” Patrick jumps up, climbs onto Jonny’s back. “I win,” Patrick says against his neck, wrapping his arms around Jonny’s neck.
“Or lose. You never did figure out which way you were betting.” Jonny really wishes his apartment was bigger, settles for just walking slowly, because he just likes this, Patrick clinging to him, practically nuzzling his neck. He takes Patrick to the guest room, deposits him gently on the bed. “There. Lazy-ass.”
“Thanks,” Patrick rolls his eyes, sprawls out over the bed. He hooks one foot around Jonny’s hip, tugs him closer to the bed. “You owe me.”
“I owe you?” Jonny snorts. “You need to study this bet-making thing. Now get the fuck to sleep, it’s like two AM.”
“One AM, sissy.” He’s wrinkling his nose and making a face at Jonny, so Jonny leans down, kisses the tip of his nose. “I love you,” Patrick tells him, and Jonny just swats his ankle and leaves the room. He’s asked himself over and over how to make sure Patrick knows the way he feels, and he’d tell Patrick, but I love you must mean something different between them, and Jonny can’t think of anything more obvious than what he does, shows Patrick, but somehow, none of it is strong enough, none of it’s saying I love you more than anything, Patrick, and Jonny doesn’t know how else to say it.
0O0O0O0O0O
It’s Valentine’s Day, and Patrick’s knocking on Jonny’s door before he realises that maybe Jonny’s busy, maybe he has a date.
“Well, fuck,” he says to the closed door, but then it opens, and he grins to see Jonny, standing there in shorts and a t-shirt, the sound of the TV in the background. “No date?” Patrick asks, and Jonny shakes his head.
“Don’t you check your phone?”
“Nope, it’s dead and I can’t find the charger. Why?” he heads in when Jonny steps back, just so relieved to find the apartment empty of anyone else.
“Texted to see if you were busy.”
“Ah.” He stops when he sees a rose sitting on the table, freezes. “Um, did you - have a date earlier? Or something?” He probably sounds outright terrified, but what the fuck ever, he is. Jonny laughs, though.
“No, I ordered takeout and they’re being festive. You know, that Italian place that did mistletoe at Christmas?”
“Oh, right,” Patrick exhales, doesn’t feel so much like he’s going to pass out, “those guys. Save me the garlic bread?”
“What, you think I order food for you even if you’re not here?” Jonny’s definitely rolling his eyes, but Patrick still finds the bread in his refrigerator.
“I knew you loved me,” He says as he opens up the takeout box, but Jonny’s gone off into the living room; it’s not like he was going to say something like of course I do, or haven’t I told you enough, anyways.
Jonny clicks through movie choices as Patrick eats the garlic bread and watches, makes helpful gagging noises when Jonny pauses on particularly lame-sounding movies. They eventually settle on the second Hangover movie, because somehow, Jonny’s managed to go this long without seeing it, and that’s something Patrick won’t stand for.
“Please tell me it’s not just repeating all the same jokes as the last one,” Jonny says, and Patrick arches an eyebrow.
“Don’t tell me you think it’s anything but that.”
“I should’ve known.” Jonny settles an arm over the back of the couch, behind Patrick, which Patrick takes as an invitation to settle in against his side. Patrick can’t sit through movies normally, his attention span far too short for that, but this, he could do this for hours, because Jonny’s playing with his curls absent-mindedly, thumb rubbing gentle circles over Patrick’s shoulder, and he just doesn’t want to move, not ever.
“How come you don’t have a date or something?” Jonny asks after a while, “like, you’re here on Valentines Day?”
“Because,” Patrick pauses, takes a second to just hope really, really desperately that Jonny will understand him this time. “I love you.”
“Ah.” Jonny doesn’t seem surprised, or even all that affected, and Patrick sighs, knows that this fourth I love you didn’t say enough, just like all the ones before it. He curls in closer against Jonny, wonders what Jonny would do, if Patrick kissed him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jonny spends the afternoon at Patrick’s apartment after practice, and as he’s walking towards his car in the parking lot afterwards, he’s suddenly so fucking frustrated. He’s finally gotten up the courage to let Patrick know he loves him, and Patrick doesn’t understand, doesn’t know that when Jonny kissed the back of his neck as Patrick stood in front of the open refrigerator, he was saying I love you please please hear this, he’s telling Patrick, and Patrick just isn’t understanding. Jonny’s doing the most obvious thing he can think of, showing Patrick, and it’s just not working, and - and if it’d worked, he’d know, right now, he’d know, how Patrick felt about that. That’s what finally pushes him over, to know that right now, he should have some kind of resolution. He’ll be permanently broken or he’ll be endlessly happy, but he’d know.
Before he can think it through anymore, Jonny turns around, goes back into the building. By the time he gets to the door, his heart’s hammering, like some part of him knows that this time - this time, Patrick will understand, this time, he’ll be able to tell, and maybe Jonny’s been too afraid to be really obvious all this time. He’s just - so afraid, of what might happen, that maybe he hasn’t been as clear as he could have been, and this - there’s no way Patrick can misinterpret this.
“Oh, hey,” Patrick says when he opens the door, “You forget something?”
“Uh, kinda?” Jonny follows Patrick back in, suddenly has such a hard time finding the words, even though he hears them all the time. It’s just - different, now that he’s making them mean everything. “I wanted to, uh. Tell you something.”
“Yeah?” Patrick looks nervous already, biting his lip and looking at the ground like he’s the one about to say something terrifying and not Jonny.
“Um,” Jonny can’t - can’t do this, why can’t he just - just kiss Patrick and tell him that way, because words are so hard, but he’s been doing that, it hasn’t worked - “I l-” he starts, and then Patrick pushes him back against the door and kisses him soundly, and oh, there’s no way Jonny can misinterpret that. “How come it works for you?” he asks when Patrick pulls away, breathing kind of shallowly.
“What?”
“I kiss you all the fucking time! I love you!” This makes Patrick laugh, as he collapses against Jonny, just laughing. “You should’ve - told me!”
“I have,” Patrick says, grins at him, “Jonny. What the hell else does I love you mean?”
“I don’t-” Jonny starts, shakes his head. Patrick has told him that a lot, and he just - didn’t get it. Patrick’s a talker, says all kinds of things, but it took this, took him kissing Jonny, to really get it. And oh, poor Patrick, because he’s a talker, not a doer, kissing him just have been - terrifyingly nerve-wracking. “Okay, so I’m stupid. We’re even.”
“Yup.” Patrick tugs on his shirt to get him to lean down a little, kisses him again. “We match.”
It’s so simple, but there’s nothing Jonny can think of that’s more accurate. They match, they fit together, and this is the way it feels to be with Patrick, it’s finding his other half, it’s misunderstanding something as straightforward as I love you just because he wanted so badly to hear it, because he never thought he’d be this lucky. Patrick loves him, that’s what he’s been saying all along, even when he wasn’t saying I love you, this is the way they’ve been all along.