afraid of standing still [1/4]
Title: afraid of standing still
Author: sherlockelly
Pairing: Dany Heatley/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Real people, fake story.
Word Count: 25,795
Summary: Dany Heatley continues to drift violently away from the idea of the man he had wanted to be.
Author's Note: Written for reallybigsticks. Thanks infinitely to revuko for her feedback and input, even though she has been crazy busy. This is me experimenting with a nonlinear timeline and believe me, it was incredibly frustrating but I tried my best to date and place everything so it would flow while not flowing. If I said all I needed to say right here, it might be longer than the story so the rest of my notes, research, inspiration and frustration can be found here.
one . two . three . four
January 21st, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Dan jumps on Dany’s back as they file back into the locker room after the first period. “Fuck yeah!” It’s not exactly the most articulate thing that’s ever been yelled at him, but Dany could care less. He knows exactly what Dan means anyhow, the adrenaline coursing through his body and the twitch of a smile on his lips.
He shrugs off the other man and spins to punch him on the arm, face to face, both of them dripping with sweat.
“Second on the year, Snydes!” Dany ruffles Dan’s hair like an oversized child and the wet, sloppy waves stick up all over.
“An’ two on the night fer you, eh?” They share matching smiles, front left teeth both missing.
“Don’t you two make a fuckin’ attractive pair,” Marc Savard shakes his head with a crooked grin as he walks by, clapping them both on the back.
“Fuck off, Savvy,” Dan laughs and throws a glove at him before turning back to Dany. “Ready to finish ‘em?”
Dany beams. He could do this forever.
February 3rd, 2004
Boston, MA
He sits at the bar in his game day suit. It’s freezing outside, but he can’t feel anything. The anonymity of the road was certainly something he’d loved before, but it is what he cherishes now. With his hair slicked back from the shower and his suit covering any bruises he might be sporting, he feels like he could be anyone in the world. The last person he’s looking to be tonight is himself.
He’d scored his first goal since he got back right at the start of the game. A tiny, dark presence in the back of his mind had convinced him that’s all he’d needed to do to start putting everything in the past. The moment the red light flicked on, his eyes shut and he waited for the wave of relief, maybe an easing of the ache in his chest. Slava Kozlov slapped his helmet and he felt it reverberating down his spine, but then nothing. Scoring hadn’t felt like anything at all. No release, no respite; just the ringing in his ears.
Every bit of his celebration after that felt like an act. It hadn’t mattered anyway as the Bruins still put away the game winner with less than two minutes left.
He sips at his drink, the warmth pooling through his limbs and warming him from the inside out. He’s good at blending in when he needs to, but the place isn’t too busy on a Tuesday night and a quick scan of the room turns up no one worth his time.
The upside, he thinks, if there can ever be an upside about his situation, is that no one on the team bats an eye when he disappears anymore. It had been a challenge before, slipping off quietly to a bar more to his taste, without someone asking to tag along or inquiring as to where he was going.
Now, they let him go wordlessly. Kozlov will smile sadly at him and tell him to call if he needs something, ‘anything’; Ilya will pretend he’s letting Dany have his space. He’s sure half of them are convinced that he won’t come back one night, will just disappear into the darkness and never be found.
He’s thought about that. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t.
Maybe his teammates all know he’s too chicken shit to ever do it; maybe if he ever were about to disappear they would ask him where he was heading off to.
The door to the bar opens and the fluorescents outside cast a glow across the floor. A group of younger guys come briskly in, dressed for the weather outside. They already know each other, they’re already paired up; nothing about them interests him either.
The chill sends shivers down Dany’s spine as the air seeps easily though the suit fabric. He can be whoever he wants tonight, he can do anything. Anyone.
God, he really had expected that red light to change something. Now all he wants to be tonight is alone.
September 3rd, 2003
Atlanta, GA
He’s lying down on his sofa trying to take an afternoon nap when his cell starts vibrating from the coffee table.
Dany flips his phone open and before he can even say hello the familiar voice is barking at him. “Hope yer not too scared, Heater. Yer biggest offensive threat has arrived!”
“Who is this?” Dany feigns unfamiliarity but he recognizes Dan’s voice without even needing to check the caller-id.
“Fuck you, that’s who!” Dany laughs as Dan continues. “Guess who just made the fuckin’ club full time!”
“No shit! Congrats, Snydes! You callin’ from the rink?”
“Nah, the Ellis actually. Got myself a five-star suite!” He laughs.
“Downtown?”
“Yeah, my new residence, I guess. Just got back from my meeting with Hartley and Waddell about the good news.”
“You’re gonna stay there all year?”
“Well,” Dan trails off in uncertainty. “So that’s sort of one of the reasons I was calling. First of all, ta let you know to watch yer back,” He laughs. “And second, I wanted to ask ya if you didn’t mind me stayin’ with you until I get a place of my own.” The humor is gone from his voice and Dany can hear the nervousness; his friend’s humility makes him smile as it’s not something that he hears often. “I mean, the hotel is nice or whatever, and they make my bed for me, so that’s an automatic plus right there but--.”
“But you’ll miss out on seeing my beautiful face every morning?”
Dan explodes with laughter. “Yeah, somethin’ like that, man.”
Dany has never been a loner, not even when he was little, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel isolated in his house, especially after road trips, with the built-in companionship of a roommate. He’d bought the place with the extra rooms so that he could house friends and family when they came to visit, but during the season that was rare. Maybe it would be nice to have a place that didn’t echo.
“Dan, I got that empty guest room upstairs. It’s fuckin’ yers as long as you want. The whole season even.” The sigh of relief from the other end of the phone makes Dany laugh out loud.
“Jesus, I was fuckin’ hoping you’d say that. The last thing I wanted to deal with right now is Atlanta real estate sharks.”
“Well then, I guess my loss is your gain.”
“Damn right it is. I’ll be bringing all my earthly possessions by in a few days, then so make room. Dad and Jake are already driving my shit down in the van.”
“Fuckin’ cocky, aren’t ya? How’d you know I’d say yes to you?”
“I know you, Heats. Couldn’t pay you to spend a night alone Atlanta.” Dan has always been good at reading between the lines.
“I’m never gonna get rid of your ass, am I?” Dany smiles wide.
“Ah, don’t worry about that! I’ll do your laundry and cook you dinner.”
“So yer basically gonna be my house husband then?”
Shit. The second he says it, he realizes what’s looming over him.
“Any way you want it, baby!” Dan laughs but Dany can hardly hear it over the sound of his heartbeat. His personal life is all well and hidden when he’s by himself, no one to answer for or to, but he just offered to share his most private space with someone else. Someone who, so far as he knows, doesn’t have a clue about any of Dany’s extracurriculars.
He takes a deep breath in and before he can back out, he speaks.
“Hey, um. Before we set all this in stone, maybe we ought to meet up and talk or something. You know, sort out the details, or…” He trails off stupidly. “Can I come by the hotel in a few minutes?”
He hears the hesitation on the other end of the phone, his sudden change in mood not lost on Dan. He hurries to undo some of the damage.
“I’m not backing out or anything; the room is definitely yours if you want it. But-”
“But I might not want it?”
“Something like that, I guess.”
He can hear Dan breathing on the other end of the phone and he bites his lip. “Yeah, you can come by. Know where it is?”
“Yeah,” Dany croaks.
“Okay, then. I’ll meet you in the lobby in, like, ten?”
“Sounds good.” Dany hangs up without saying goodbye.
February 13th, 2004
Vancouver, BC
His second goal after returning comes at a better time, he thinks. For starters, the Thrashers win the game, and that alone lifts his spirits. He’s given up on the voice inside of himself that promises more than can be delivered.
And then there’s that part where Friday nights have always been better nights to go out, Dany hums to himself as he scans the crowded bar. He’ll have better luck being someone else tonight; he can already feel the victory coursing through his blood.
He hasn’t been out like this since the All-Star break, those days off a perfect excuse to fuck himself into nonexistence, and he’s itching to find someone to take home. The day-before-Valentine’s-Day singles crowd is out in full force and he allows himself a moment to appreciate the showing.
The sudden hand on his shoulder makes him jump and turn, but the ice-blue eyes smiling back at him do more to take his breath away than the scare.
“Sorry,” the kid smiles at him in a way that tells Dany he isn’t sorry at all. The suspiciously sly look on his own face is enough to, he hopes, convey that he knows this. The kid orders his drink, a vodka tonic, before taking the empty seat next to Dany’s. He takes the opportunity to drink the guy in. He’s taller than Dany standing, but seated he can tell that he’s got at least four inches on the kid. He’s certainly younger than Dany is, he can tell that right away, though the haggard look of Dany’s face has nothing to do with age.
He’s got a mop of brown hair with flashes of blond in the bar light; soft waves and curls falling sloppy around his ears. He looks familiar, and Dany finds himself wondering if maybe they’d played together in bantam.
“I’m Michael,” the kid offers his hand and Dany takes it, shaking slowly, fingers lingering as he lets go. He’s interested, no use in pretending otherwise.
“Aaron,” he winks at the kid. He’s someone else tonight; he’s powerful. Most importantly, he’s whole. “What’re ya, sixteen?” Dany cocks an eyebrow as the kid laughs.
“Close,” Michael’s pale eyes sparkle in a way that makes Dany’s hair stand up and his suit pants tighten. “Twenty-two.”
“Ya don’ look it,” Dany responds skeptically.
“Could say the same fer you. Look like yer playing dress up in that suit, Aaron.” He stresses the name, his full lips curling like he knows it doesn’t really belong; knows that Dany is just borrowing the rights for the night. Maybe he finds Dany just as familiar. The thought is exciting in a way that his conquests on the break hadn’t been.
He takes a sip of his drink and licks the remnants off his lips as he sets the glass down again in the wet ring of condensation. His fingers brush away a few trailing drops down the side of the glass. He looks up to speak.
“So, who’re ya pretending to be, all dressed up in yer Dad’s suit,” Michael’s eyes flash with mischief but Dany nearly chokes on nothing.
“Excuse me?” It comes out in a squeak, not nearly as suave as he’d hoped to come off.
“Yer, what, only twenty yourself? Y’expect me to believe this?” Michael thumbs the shoulder of Dany’s suit but his eyebrows raise when Dany suspects he finds the fabric more expensive than what he was expecting.
Dany wants to smirk but the way this kid (not really a kid, barely younger than he is) seems to be reading him, he feels himself losing all the control he thought he had over this situation.
“I’m twenty-three,” Dany stammers, a little taken aback that he could ever be mistaken for younger than thirty, if the bags under his eyes and scars on his chin aren’t enough of an indication. Perhaps he’s not pretending hard enough. His eyes drop down to the bar counter as though he’s suddenly finding his drink interesting. What else can this kid read on him?
“So, what are you doing in here alone all dressed to the nines, Aaron?” Michael regards him with a curious look that doesn’t seem as predatory as it originally had, perhaps Dany’s fading bravado taking some of the competition out of their banter. The silence between the question and his answer grows and he starts to feel painfully transparent.
“Dany.” He doesn’t know what makes him say it, but once it’s out, he can’t take it back. “It’s Dany, actually.”
“Dany,” Michael smiles. “I like that.” He doesn’t seem at all put off by the fact Dany had been lying and it makes him relax a bit. His shoulder still twitches where Michael had brushed his fingers.
Finally, the bartender brings over the kid’s drink with an apologetic shrug and wink. It’s busy tonight, but Dany forgot to notice as the crowd swelled in around them.
He wants to say something witty and sly, the way he usually does. He downs the rest of his drink and gestures for another. Suddenly he’s way too thirsty.
“So?” Michael leans into him like they share a deep secret. Maybe they do; Dany’s not sure how much of a secret his real self is these days, but tonight, it feels private. He feels naked for having shared it. “Why are you here in your finest suit?”
He finally looks up from his drink and takes in Michael’s smile; wide and happy. As comfortable as he feels, this doesn’t seem like a good idea anymore. Something about it just isn’t as easy as it usually is.
“This is just pretend. I’m hiding,” Dany’s mouth seems to be moving before his brain can stop it.
“Not from me I hope.”
No, Dany thinks to himself, not from you. He takes in Michael’s broad shoulders and crooked grin, the way the left corner of his mouth turns up more than the right, the way he wets his lips before taking another sip.
Dany swears he’s seen him before.
“I’m not sure yet,” he quirks his brow and Michael laughs.
“I don’t think I’m that scary, do you?” His cheeks are already pink from the alcohol and his eyes are nearly crystal blue. Dany just wants to kiss him now, doesn’t want to mess with the pretense, but nothing about this night has gone the way he’s expected so far.
“You’re not scary at all,” he sounds embarrassingly breathless but it’s met only with a genuine smile.
“So, what do you, Dany? You can’t be local, I would have seen you around here, I’m sure.”
“Work in computers, technology, that kind of thing.” It’s the practiced answer and it comes out sounding rehearsed, but this is the one thing he’s not in any way willing to tell the truth about it. He can tell by the quirk in Michael’s smile that he doesn’t quite believe the reply, but for once he doesn’t push and Dany is grateful. “What about you?” Changing the subject is always the safest route when he senses skepticism, but it’s not hard to feign interest in the boy before him.
Michael’s blush grows deeper and some of his confidence seems to disappear under Dany’s scrutinizing gaze. He drags a hand through his wavy hair and a few strands stick up awkwardly afterwards. It makes Dany smile.
“I go to UBC. Don’t really do much. Study,” he says it with a devilish grin and Dany feels is own face flush. “Lots of studying,” his hand is on Dany’s knee and the two of them must look like royal idiots, he’s sure, blushing like school girls at the bar, flirting shamelessly.
He places his hand on top of Michael’s and now suddenly it does feel too easy. This part is distinctively too easy.
“What do you study?” Dany takes a sip of his drink, licking the remnants from his lips afterwards. He watches Michael notice and his stomach tightens up pleasantly.
“Well, I’m finishing up my bachelors in European history, but after that, I’ll probably look into teaching.”
“History, eh? No shit.”
“European history,” Michael counters, a sparkle in his eye. Dany tips his head to the side and smiles an effortless smile. He hasn’t felt so free in a long time and he’ll be damned if he’s about to let this chance go to waste.
“I was a history major, too,” Dany bites the inside of his cheek to contain his grin. “You live nearby?” It’s a definite invitation and if his words don’t give that away, he hopes that his expression does.
“Yeah,” the nails press into his thigh and Dany inhales sharply. “Wanna come by for a tour?”
He throws back the rest of his drink and Michael follows suit.
“Absolutely.”
October 19th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Dany grunts as he lumbers through the hall on his crutches, his knee throbbing with each bit of pressure.
He tries to keep up with Jake but it takes him a moment to navigate his own staircase.
“So all of this then?” Jake calls from the bedroom where he’s been busy sorting his brother’s belongings into plastic storage tubs, most of it barely unpacked. Dany grits his teeth as he takes a wrong step.
“I-ugh, shit.” He has to stop and rest for a moment when he reaches the top, leaning against the hallway wall. “Yeah, uh, all of it, pretty sure. A lot of it is, um, he still had a lot of stuff in boxes. There are some boxes of mine in the closet, too but they should be pretty far back; I’ve been storing some stuff back there.”
Dany starts again back down the hall, gritting his teeth as the pain shoots up and down his leg with each slow step.
“So… some of this is, uh, yours then?” Jake sounds far away and unsure.
“I think there’s maybe one or two back there yeah,” Dany finally makes it to the bedroom door and leans against the frame; he’s embarrassed to be panting. “Should be marked though, I think.”
“S’it the uh, um, the one labeled ‘D’?” He looks up in time to see Jake folding the cardboard tabs down quickly and his blood runs cold when he sees what he’s got in front of him. He knows exactly what’s in that box.
“Yeah. Ugh, fuck,” he maneuvers as fast as he can across the room, the blush growing hot in his cheeks. “That’s um, that’s mine.”
Dany tries to hold it shut with his crutch, balancing his weight on one leg as he does but he’s still shaking too much to steady himself.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not like, I don’t want to be going through your stuff or anything.”
Dany has to put both crutches back on the floor or he’s sure to lose his balance. The box opens back up with the weight of its contents and scattered among his old college textbooks are a few porn magazines, the smooth topless men giving the contents away instantly. He knew he should have tossed those the second he’d made the show, but it had just become a chore that he’d never gotten around to, never had a reason to make it a priority.
The room is thick with tension and Dany is the first to break it, saying everything he thinks he needs to say.
“Dan wasn’t-I mean, he’s not. Dan wasn’t, like, gay or anything. N-not, well, if so he never said, but. It’s not like we were. I mean, well, he knew that I was, but he never, we never. It’s not like we ever did anything or like-.”
“I get it. It’s okay, Dany, relax.”
“I just don’t want you to think that, you know. We weren’t a couple or anything, that’s not why he was living here.”
“Dany, I know. I believe you, it’s all right. It’s all right.”
It’s not until Jake’s arms are around him that Dany realizes how hard he’s shaking.
“He was just a friend. W-we were just good friends,” he whispers it into Jake’s shoulder and he’s so glad that there’s someone there to help hold him up.
He’s not sure he could stand on his own right now.
March 30th, 2004
Vancouver, BC
He doesn’t know how they’ve found any time at all to meet up in the last month and a half, but he’d been able to convince Michael to fly out and see him on the road quite a few times. Dany had bought some of the tickets himself, and he’d gone out to Vancouver on one of the few off-days he had.
It was getting harder to lie to Michael about what he really did, though he had a strong suspicion that Michael hadn’t ever bought his story about working with computers in the first place. There had to only be so many technology conferences around North America.
Then there was the business of sneaking around in the same hotel as his teammates were staying in, which he was beginning to realize was incredibly difficult and required a lot of foresight, both hiding Michael from them and them from Michael. He’d once even booked a second room on a different floor under a fake name. If his behavior was troubling to any of his teammates, none of them mentioned it, though Dany was convinced that most of them regarded him as something to avoid anyhow. He didn’t mind that as much he might have if Michael weren’t there to keep him company, and very well distracted.
Harder still than the hotel situation was the fact that more than once Dany had been sporting unexplainable cuts or bruises that Michael would touch carefully, raising an eyebrow in question. Sometimes he would ask, but he’d always abandon the topic quickly when Dany didn’t offer any more information than a nonchalant shrug. Besides, their visits were short and infrequent enough that neither of them were about to waste any time worrying about a few scratches. At least it’s what he tells himself.
“You know, soon, I won’t be traveling so much,” Dany lets it slip one day when the two of them are getting ready to head out to dinner. He’d been thinking about the end of the season and the bright side of knowing the Thrashers won’t be qualifying for the playoffs this year. The second it is out of his mouth, he tries to ignore what it implies, but he can feel Michael looking at him though.
“Dany?”
He coughs to clear his throat before he answers. “Ugh, yeah?”
“What do you really do?” It’s so matter-of-fact that it catches him off guard. He’d half expected Michael to be upset that Dany has been clearly lying to him for well over a month, especially as they’d become more serious.
“What do you mean?” He can play this off if he really tries.
“Dany, you can’t work the remote on my television and I have seen your laptop.”
“So? What’s wrong with my laptop?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, but for someone who works in computers and technology, I’d expect you to have something newer than that.”
“I like the one I’ve got.”
The look on Michael’s face tells Dany all he needs to know. The other man is getting a lot of pleasure out of making him squirm.
“Well, what about that?” Michael points to fading cut on his lower lip, courtesy of a high stick a few games back. “Did a computer bite you?”
Dany cocks his hip and rolls his eyes. He knew this conversation was inevitable, especially once his life started to revolve more around Michael than going out to bars, though he still did occasionally. He just hadn’t expected Michael to tease him so mercilessly about it. One of his last bits of anonymity is unraveling before him and if he didn’t trust Michael so damned much, and he prays it’s not in err, he might be more scared than he is.
“I just,” he takes a deep breath, “I don’t know. It’s not that easy.”
“What’s not that easy?” Michael rises from the hotel chair and walks to where Dany stands across the room. The warm hand closes around his wrist and tugs him back toward the unmade bed.
The springs creak under their sudden combined weight.
“You can trust me, you know. M’not about to out you.” Something in the way he says it makes Dany wonder if maybe Michael already knows. He hopes not; there are some things about himself that he’s not ready to share with Michael yet.
“Don’t look me up,” he blurts suddenly. “Just, trust me, okay? I don’t want you to look up my name or me or anything like that.”
The look on Michael’s face changes and this doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. The joviality leaves the room in a rush.
“Promise me, Michael. Please promise that you won’t. I’ll tell you everything, okay? Just, not yet.”
This all feels so familiar; the hotel, the confession. He feels like he’s coming out all over again.
“I promise I won’t. But,” there’s a comforting touch on his shoulder and Michael’s hand trails down his arm before lacing their fingers together, “Dany, can’t you please at least tell me why? Why would there be stuff about you to even look up?”
“I don’t work in computers.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Well, I assumed,” Michael looks embarrassed. “I don’t really know.”
Dany huffs a breath and pulls away from the bed. His suitcase is shoved in the closet, still packed from the last roadtrip, and while he isn’t sure how to say the words, he thinks he can convey everything he wants to in one surefire way.
It doesn’t take much rummaging to find what he’s looking for and he balls his jersey up in his hands and tosses it across the room to Michael before he can change his mind.
He watches with bated breath as the other man slowly unfolds the familiar fabric and holds it up carefully. Recognition flashes over Michael’s face as he takes in the Thrashers logo before flipping it around. Nothing of their interactions to this point have led Dany to believe that Michael is a huge hockey fan, or even a fan at all, but he is a Canadian boy and Dany doesn’t doubt that he knows the team. Michael spreads the jersey out on his lap and traces the nameplate and numbers.
He looks up finally with an unreadable expression and Dany is seconds from snatching it back and running away for good if Michael doesn’t give him some indication that he understands.
“S’this yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“What?” Dany’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels like he might throw up.
“This is…” Michael bites his lip hesitantly, but Dany has grown to recognize that devious sparkle in his eyes and it’s never been more welcome than right now, “…really fucking hot.” His face lights up with a smile and he’s across the room in three strides, fistfuls of Dany’s curls, pulling him down as those lips find their way onto his.
They reluctantly break apart and Dany opens his eyes to find Michael regarding him carefully.
“I promise I won’t tell, all right? And I won’t look you up. I told you that I trust you, and I mean that,” the corner of his mouth quirks, “I did even when I knew you were lying.”
Dany’s so relieved he could cry, but he decides to show his appreciation another way.
They don’t make it to dinner.
September 3rd, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Dan is already in the lobby when Dany pulls up in the black Ferrari, parking in a visitor’s spot.
“Figured we could walk to the Starbucks,” Dan gestures somewhere down the block but Dany is already shaking his head.
He speaks over his shoulder as he locks the door. It takes him three times to get the key in, his fingers are shaking. “Naw, I was actually thinking we could go inside. Maybe.”
This doesn’t feel like any sort of conversation for the parking lot and Dany finds himself pulling his hat down over his eyes. This feels clandestine already, but he can’t back out now.
“You sure you’re okay, Heats?”
“Yeah, m’good. Just, I think maybe inside might be better.” Dan nods and doesn’t protest anymore.
The ride up the elevator is long and silent and Dany spends the majority of it wringing his hands behind his back and trying to calm his racing heart with practiced breaths.
This is not the first time in his life that’s come out, and he’s about a hundred percent sure that it won’t be the last. But, this is the first time he’s committed to coming out to someone not with the last name ‘Heatley’ and it feels too important not to be nervous about.
The ding makes Dany jump and he can feel Dan’s eyes on him, a question on his face.
“So what’s up?” Dan wastes no time as he shuts the hotel door behind them.
Dany sits down on one of the beds and takes in the suitcase and pile of laundry in the corner. He half expects Dan to sit next to him but instead he leans against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest in concern.
“Well,” Dany picks at a piece of lint on his jeans. He pulls off his cap and rubs a hand through his hair, shaking out his matted curls. He cracks his knuckles. He does everything that he can to stall having to continue his sentence.
“‘Well’ what, Dany? Just tell me.”
“Before you moved in, I mean, if you still want to, I just thought that you should know, that, um.” He swallows down the lump forming in his throat and wipes his palms on his pants. “Well, I’m--I’m gay, so.”
The room is eerily quiet and Dany squeezes the brim of his cap in his hand, watching as the cardboard bends into an exaggerated U.
“So…?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said, ‘I’m gay so…’ So what? What were you going to say?”
Dany finally looks up at Dan but he can’t read the expression on his face.
“I’m gay so, if you want to find somewhere else to live, then you can. I just wanted you to know, you know, before you moved in and found out by accident or weren’t comfortable with it or whatever.”
He waits for what feels like hours before Dan finally reacts. And when he does, he laughs. Dan throws his head back and grips the edge of the dresser and laughs. Dany doesn’t know what to do.
“Shit, Heats! I thought you were going to tell me that you were addicted to speed or runnin’ a fuckin’ drug ring or something! I don’t care if yer gay!”
Dany hears himself shushing the other man; it’s still private and hearing it shouted in the tiny room makes him nervous.
“Sorry, sorry,” Dan lowers his voice. “But, it’s not a big deal at all, all right?”
“Well it is to me!” Dany snaps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but this seems too easy. He got himself all worked up over this and Dan is acting like it’s nothing.
Dan’s face falls instantly. “I didn’t mean it like that, Dany. You’re right; of course it’s a big deal. Just, I mean, it doesn’t bother me if you are or if you aren’t.”
“You can’t tell anyone, especially not the team,” the second surge of panic rises inside of him. If Dan doesn’t think it’s a big deal, he might let it slip without thinking about it.
“Of course not! Not a word to anyone, okay? I promise.”
“I’m just, I’m not ready for it to be… a thing.” Dany gestures abstractly with his hands before he looks back down at his hat. He doesn’t see Dan move, just feels the bed dip down beside him and the arm drape over his shoulders.
“Your secret’s safe with me, roomie,” Dan flashes a tremendous grin and Dany can finally exhale.
October 7th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
He’s lying down on the gurney as the sedative and anesthesia are administered through the IV. The ligaments in his knee are torn to pieces and this surgery has been scheduled for days. He wonders if at this point maybe the doctors aren’t just going through the motions; fixing him because they have to.
As his eyes start to close on their own and his body goes heavy beyond his control, his spends his last bit of consciousness praying, like a coward, that he won’t wake up.
April 9th, 2004
Calgary, AB
Dany doesn’t like to be alone. Truthfully, he never has but for a few brief periods in his life. And not that he can’t be alone if he needs to be, he’s really good about that, but he’s always needed some form of companionship or another to feel comfortable.
Leaving Atlanta at the end of the season had felt like a release of energy and he’d spent the first week back in Calgary sleeping. The apartment he rented there had sat empty since he’d signed the lease as, until this summer, Dany had other places to be and people to see, bounding back and forth between Georgia and Wisconsin and wherever else his teammates, both current and former, happened to be at the time.
Even just sleeping, the first night alone in the apartment, Dany felt uneasy. He called Michael the next day and convinced him to fly out and stay for a bit.
Dany chases his own escape, is what his brother once told him, and it’s probably true. It certainly feels true when he thinks about what it might mean. Michael understands, because even for all the shit that Dany gives him, Michael has a remarkable intuition and he understands almost everything about Dany.
The constant distance between them was the original catalyst. The travel, even before Michael knew what the travel was actually for, the upcoming World Championship that would send Dany to Europe for at least a month, and then Michael’s finals and graduation and the knowledge that graduate school was going to keep them apart for even longer.
Initially, they spent more time apart than together physically, which was a complaint they’d both had shared. Emotionally, Dany doesn’t think he could ever connect with someone the way he does Michael, though that is a card that he plays very close to his chest, still scared about what it might mean.
Michael is the only person in the world that can see through him, he could from day one, and Dany knows that there’s a reason for this, but he’ll be damned if he could name it outright.
The need to be someone else, with someone else from time to time, not alone, was too powerful of a need for Dany to discard, and he’d never kept that Michael. He was fortunate in that Michael felt the same way, their physical relationship tempered by the constant distance.
The day they’d decided, after the conversation, Dany walked around in a fog, unable to put his finger on what it was that made him not completely for the idea of an open relationship.
That night, he felt like he’d managed to pinpoint it exactly.
Michael moves on top of him, sweat-slicked and smiling as Dany pushes up into him and moans. His fingers spread out over Michael’s thighs, kneading the tight muscles there.
“I want you to be mine,” Dany manages to find enough sense to gasp out actual words as Michael rocks his hips in just the right, maddening way.
He smiles down at Dany though slatted eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I don’ want,” he grunts as Michael takes to moving for him, “anyone else to get to do this.”
“To do what?”
“To fuck you.” He grips Michael’s thighs harder, possessively, and ruts his hips upward.
Michael lets out a breathy sound and Dany smiles.
“Don’t want anyone to get to fuck you either.” Michael’s eyes are glassy, but the devilish gleam isn’t lost on Dany. “Yer ass is mine, Heater.”
“S’usually not the context people tell me that,” he gives Michael a sloppy smile before grabbing him by the shoulders and surprising both of them by sitting up, Michael still straddling his lap. The joking is done; Dany knows that Michael can feel it, too. Their lips meet violently as Michael’s arms wrap around Dany’s neck and they rock into each other.
“You know s’only yers,” Dany whispers against Michael’s lips. “S’only ever been yers. No one else will ever get to have that from me s’long as ‘m with you.”
“S-same.” Michael bites down on his lip and Dany moans. “Now shut up and fuck me.” He does.
April 29th, 2004
Prague, Czech Republic
Being in Europe reminds him of being young in college, and Dany wonders if maybe that’s the only reason he’s been able to get through this so far, especially without his family and Michael by his side. Since his return to the league in February he’s barely been alone long enough to piss and as suffocating as it may seem to everyone else, he prefers it that way. When his own thoughts are the enemy, it’s just safer that way.
It’s been somewhat familiar as far as his play is concerned, with everyone watching him like a hawk every time he takes the ice; the rain cloud above his head is apparently just as obvious to everyone else as it is to those that know him best. The press won’t talk to him about anything other than hockey, but he can see the questions behind their eyes, and his teammates shift around him carefully, like an invisible radius around his body is forcing them to keep their distance.
They’re midway through the IIHF Tournament and he’s put up numbers that anyone would be proud of so far. But he still feels fragile.
Every game feels like a test and Dany is embarrassed when he passes and ashamed when he fails. He celebrates each goal knowing the world’s eyes are on him. If he smiles too wide, will they judge him for forgetting? If he falls short of looking genuine, will they assume he’s broken?
The pressure builds inside of his body until he wants to burst at the seams. It’s not enough to play the game anymore, and with every opportunity, he allows himself to be reminded of that.
continue to 2
Author: sherlockelly
Pairing: Dany Heatley/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Real people, fake story.
Word Count: 25,795
Summary: Dany Heatley continues to drift violently away from the idea of the man he had wanted to be.
Author's Note: Written for reallybigsticks. Thanks infinitely to revuko for her feedback and input, even though she has been crazy busy. This is me experimenting with a nonlinear timeline and believe me, it was incredibly frustrating but I tried my best to date and place everything so it would flow while not flowing. If I said all I needed to say right here, it might be longer than the story so the rest of my notes, research, inspiration and frustration can be found here.
one . two . three . four
January 21st, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Dan jumps on Dany’s back as they file back into the locker room after the first period. “Fuck yeah!” It’s not exactly the most articulate thing that’s ever been yelled at him, but Dany could care less. He knows exactly what Dan means anyhow, the adrenaline coursing through his body and the twitch of a smile on his lips.
He shrugs off the other man and spins to punch him on the arm, face to face, both of them dripping with sweat.
“Second on the year, Snydes!” Dany ruffles Dan’s hair like an oversized child and the wet, sloppy waves stick up all over.
“An’ two on the night fer you, eh?” They share matching smiles, front left teeth both missing.
“Don’t you two make a fuckin’ attractive pair,” Marc Savard shakes his head with a crooked grin as he walks by, clapping them both on the back.
“Fuck off, Savvy,” Dan laughs and throws a glove at him before turning back to Dany. “Ready to finish ‘em?”
Dany beams. He could do this forever.
February 3rd, 2004
Boston, MA
He sits at the bar in his game day suit. It’s freezing outside, but he can’t feel anything. The anonymity of the road was certainly something he’d loved before, but it is what he cherishes now. With his hair slicked back from the shower and his suit covering any bruises he might be sporting, he feels like he could be anyone in the world. The last person he’s looking to be tonight is himself.
He’d scored his first goal since he got back right at the start of the game. A tiny, dark presence in the back of his mind had convinced him that’s all he’d needed to do to start putting everything in the past. The moment the red light flicked on, his eyes shut and he waited for the wave of relief, maybe an easing of the ache in his chest. Slava Kozlov slapped his helmet and he felt it reverberating down his spine, but then nothing. Scoring hadn’t felt like anything at all. No release, no respite; just the ringing in his ears.
Every bit of his celebration after that felt like an act. It hadn’t mattered anyway as the Bruins still put away the game winner with less than two minutes left.
He sips at his drink, the warmth pooling through his limbs and warming him from the inside out. He’s good at blending in when he needs to, but the place isn’t too busy on a Tuesday night and a quick scan of the room turns up no one worth his time.
The upside, he thinks, if there can ever be an upside about his situation, is that no one on the team bats an eye when he disappears anymore. It had been a challenge before, slipping off quietly to a bar more to his taste, without someone asking to tag along or inquiring as to where he was going.
Now, they let him go wordlessly. Kozlov will smile sadly at him and tell him to call if he needs something, ‘anything’; Ilya will pretend he’s letting Dany have his space. He’s sure half of them are convinced that he won’t come back one night, will just disappear into the darkness and never be found.
He’s thought about that. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t.
Maybe his teammates all know he’s too chicken shit to ever do it; maybe if he ever were about to disappear they would ask him where he was heading off to.
The door to the bar opens and the fluorescents outside cast a glow across the floor. A group of younger guys come briskly in, dressed for the weather outside. They already know each other, they’re already paired up; nothing about them interests him either.
The chill sends shivers down Dany’s spine as the air seeps easily though the suit fabric. He can be whoever he wants tonight, he can do anything. Anyone.
God, he really had expected that red light to change something. Now all he wants to be tonight is alone.
September 3rd, 2003
Atlanta, GA
He’s lying down on his sofa trying to take an afternoon nap when his cell starts vibrating from the coffee table.
Dany flips his phone open and before he can even say hello the familiar voice is barking at him. “Hope yer not too scared, Heater. Yer biggest offensive threat has arrived!”
“Who is this?” Dany feigns unfamiliarity but he recognizes Dan’s voice without even needing to check the caller-id.
“Fuck you, that’s who!” Dany laughs as Dan continues. “Guess who just made the fuckin’ club full time!”
“No shit! Congrats, Snydes! You callin’ from the rink?”
“Nah, the Ellis actually. Got myself a five-star suite!” He laughs.
“Downtown?”
“Yeah, my new residence, I guess. Just got back from my meeting with Hartley and Waddell about the good news.”
“You’re gonna stay there all year?”
“Well,” Dan trails off in uncertainty. “So that’s sort of one of the reasons I was calling. First of all, ta let you know to watch yer back,” He laughs. “And second, I wanted to ask ya if you didn’t mind me stayin’ with you until I get a place of my own.” The humor is gone from his voice and Dany can hear the nervousness; his friend’s humility makes him smile as it’s not something that he hears often. “I mean, the hotel is nice or whatever, and they make my bed for me, so that’s an automatic plus right there but--.”
“But you’ll miss out on seeing my beautiful face every morning?”
Dan explodes with laughter. “Yeah, somethin’ like that, man.”
Dany has never been a loner, not even when he was little, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel isolated in his house, especially after road trips, with the built-in companionship of a roommate. He’d bought the place with the extra rooms so that he could house friends and family when they came to visit, but during the season that was rare. Maybe it would be nice to have a place that didn’t echo.
“Dan, I got that empty guest room upstairs. It’s fuckin’ yers as long as you want. The whole season even.” The sigh of relief from the other end of the phone makes Dany laugh out loud.
“Jesus, I was fuckin’ hoping you’d say that. The last thing I wanted to deal with right now is Atlanta real estate sharks.”
“Well then, I guess my loss is your gain.”
“Damn right it is. I’ll be bringing all my earthly possessions by in a few days, then so make room. Dad and Jake are already driving my shit down in the van.”
“Fuckin’ cocky, aren’t ya? How’d you know I’d say yes to you?”
“I know you, Heats. Couldn’t pay you to spend a night alone Atlanta.” Dan has always been good at reading between the lines.
“I’m never gonna get rid of your ass, am I?” Dany smiles wide.
“Ah, don’t worry about that! I’ll do your laundry and cook you dinner.”
“So yer basically gonna be my house husband then?”
Shit. The second he says it, he realizes what’s looming over him.
“Any way you want it, baby!” Dan laughs but Dany can hardly hear it over the sound of his heartbeat. His personal life is all well and hidden when he’s by himself, no one to answer for or to, but he just offered to share his most private space with someone else. Someone who, so far as he knows, doesn’t have a clue about any of Dany’s extracurriculars.
He takes a deep breath in and before he can back out, he speaks.
“Hey, um. Before we set all this in stone, maybe we ought to meet up and talk or something. You know, sort out the details, or…” He trails off stupidly. “Can I come by the hotel in a few minutes?”
He hears the hesitation on the other end of the phone, his sudden change in mood not lost on Dan. He hurries to undo some of the damage.
“I’m not backing out or anything; the room is definitely yours if you want it. But-”
“But I might not want it?”
“Something like that, I guess.”
He can hear Dan breathing on the other end of the phone and he bites his lip. “Yeah, you can come by. Know where it is?”
“Yeah,” Dany croaks.
“Okay, then. I’ll meet you in the lobby in, like, ten?”
“Sounds good.” Dany hangs up without saying goodbye.
February 13th, 2004
Vancouver, BC
His second goal after returning comes at a better time, he thinks. For starters, the Thrashers win the game, and that alone lifts his spirits. He’s given up on the voice inside of himself that promises more than can be delivered.
And then there’s that part where Friday nights have always been better nights to go out, Dany hums to himself as he scans the crowded bar. He’ll have better luck being someone else tonight; he can already feel the victory coursing through his blood.
He hasn’t been out like this since the All-Star break, those days off a perfect excuse to fuck himself into nonexistence, and he’s itching to find someone to take home. The day-before-Valentine’s-Day singles crowd is out in full force and he allows himself a moment to appreciate the showing.
The sudden hand on his shoulder makes him jump and turn, but the ice-blue eyes smiling back at him do more to take his breath away than the scare.
“Sorry,” the kid smiles at him in a way that tells Dany he isn’t sorry at all. The suspiciously sly look on his own face is enough to, he hopes, convey that he knows this. The kid orders his drink, a vodka tonic, before taking the empty seat next to Dany’s. He takes the opportunity to drink the guy in. He’s taller than Dany standing, but seated he can tell that he’s got at least four inches on the kid. He’s certainly younger than Dany is, he can tell that right away, though the haggard look of Dany’s face has nothing to do with age.
He’s got a mop of brown hair with flashes of blond in the bar light; soft waves and curls falling sloppy around his ears. He looks familiar, and Dany finds himself wondering if maybe they’d played together in bantam.
“I’m Michael,” the kid offers his hand and Dany takes it, shaking slowly, fingers lingering as he lets go. He’s interested, no use in pretending otherwise.
“Aaron,” he winks at the kid. He’s someone else tonight; he’s powerful. Most importantly, he’s whole. “What’re ya, sixteen?” Dany cocks an eyebrow as the kid laughs.
“Close,” Michael’s pale eyes sparkle in a way that makes Dany’s hair stand up and his suit pants tighten. “Twenty-two.”
“Ya don’ look it,” Dany responds skeptically.
“Could say the same fer you. Look like yer playing dress up in that suit, Aaron.” He stresses the name, his full lips curling like he knows it doesn’t really belong; knows that Dany is just borrowing the rights for the night. Maybe he finds Dany just as familiar. The thought is exciting in a way that his conquests on the break hadn’t been.
He takes a sip of his drink and licks the remnants off his lips as he sets the glass down again in the wet ring of condensation. His fingers brush away a few trailing drops down the side of the glass. He looks up to speak.
“So, who’re ya pretending to be, all dressed up in yer Dad’s suit,” Michael’s eyes flash with mischief but Dany nearly chokes on nothing.
“Excuse me?” It comes out in a squeak, not nearly as suave as he’d hoped to come off.
“Yer, what, only twenty yourself? Y’expect me to believe this?” Michael thumbs the shoulder of Dany’s suit but his eyebrows raise when Dany suspects he finds the fabric more expensive than what he was expecting.
Dany wants to smirk but the way this kid (not really a kid, barely younger than he is) seems to be reading him, he feels himself losing all the control he thought he had over this situation.
“I’m twenty-three,” Dany stammers, a little taken aback that he could ever be mistaken for younger than thirty, if the bags under his eyes and scars on his chin aren’t enough of an indication. Perhaps he’s not pretending hard enough. His eyes drop down to the bar counter as though he’s suddenly finding his drink interesting. What else can this kid read on him?
“So, what are you doing in here alone all dressed to the nines, Aaron?” Michael regards him with a curious look that doesn’t seem as predatory as it originally had, perhaps Dany’s fading bravado taking some of the competition out of their banter. The silence between the question and his answer grows and he starts to feel painfully transparent.
“Dany.” He doesn’t know what makes him say it, but once it’s out, he can’t take it back. “It’s Dany, actually.”
“Dany,” Michael smiles. “I like that.” He doesn’t seem at all put off by the fact Dany had been lying and it makes him relax a bit. His shoulder still twitches where Michael had brushed his fingers.
Finally, the bartender brings over the kid’s drink with an apologetic shrug and wink. It’s busy tonight, but Dany forgot to notice as the crowd swelled in around them.
He wants to say something witty and sly, the way he usually does. He downs the rest of his drink and gestures for another. Suddenly he’s way too thirsty.
“So?” Michael leans into him like they share a deep secret. Maybe they do; Dany’s not sure how much of a secret his real self is these days, but tonight, it feels private. He feels naked for having shared it. “Why are you here in your finest suit?”
He finally looks up from his drink and takes in Michael’s smile; wide and happy. As comfortable as he feels, this doesn’t seem like a good idea anymore. Something about it just isn’t as easy as it usually is.
“This is just pretend. I’m hiding,” Dany’s mouth seems to be moving before his brain can stop it.
“Not from me I hope.”
No, Dany thinks to himself, not from you. He takes in Michael’s broad shoulders and crooked grin, the way the left corner of his mouth turns up more than the right, the way he wets his lips before taking another sip.
Dany swears he’s seen him before.
“I’m not sure yet,” he quirks his brow and Michael laughs.
“I don’t think I’m that scary, do you?” His cheeks are already pink from the alcohol and his eyes are nearly crystal blue. Dany just wants to kiss him now, doesn’t want to mess with the pretense, but nothing about this night has gone the way he’s expected so far.
“You’re not scary at all,” he sounds embarrassingly breathless but it’s met only with a genuine smile.
“So, what do you, Dany? You can’t be local, I would have seen you around here, I’m sure.”
“Work in computers, technology, that kind of thing.” It’s the practiced answer and it comes out sounding rehearsed, but this is the one thing he’s not in any way willing to tell the truth about it. He can tell by the quirk in Michael’s smile that he doesn’t quite believe the reply, but for once he doesn’t push and Dany is grateful. “What about you?” Changing the subject is always the safest route when he senses skepticism, but it’s not hard to feign interest in the boy before him.
Michael’s blush grows deeper and some of his confidence seems to disappear under Dany’s scrutinizing gaze. He drags a hand through his wavy hair and a few strands stick up awkwardly afterwards. It makes Dany smile.
“I go to UBC. Don’t really do much. Study,” he says it with a devilish grin and Dany feels is own face flush. “Lots of studying,” his hand is on Dany’s knee and the two of them must look like royal idiots, he’s sure, blushing like school girls at the bar, flirting shamelessly.
He places his hand on top of Michael’s and now suddenly it does feel too easy. This part is distinctively too easy.
“What do you study?” Dany takes a sip of his drink, licking the remnants from his lips afterwards. He watches Michael notice and his stomach tightens up pleasantly.
“Well, I’m finishing up my bachelors in European history, but after that, I’ll probably look into teaching.”
“History, eh? No shit.”
“European history,” Michael counters, a sparkle in his eye. Dany tips his head to the side and smiles an effortless smile. He hasn’t felt so free in a long time and he’ll be damned if he’s about to let this chance go to waste.
“I was a history major, too,” Dany bites the inside of his cheek to contain his grin. “You live nearby?” It’s a definite invitation and if his words don’t give that away, he hopes that his expression does.
“Yeah,” the nails press into his thigh and Dany inhales sharply. “Wanna come by for a tour?”
He throws back the rest of his drink and Michael follows suit.
“Absolutely.”
October 19th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Dany grunts as he lumbers through the hall on his crutches, his knee throbbing with each bit of pressure.
He tries to keep up with Jake but it takes him a moment to navigate his own staircase.
“So all of this then?” Jake calls from the bedroom where he’s been busy sorting his brother’s belongings into plastic storage tubs, most of it barely unpacked. Dany grits his teeth as he takes a wrong step.
“I-ugh, shit.” He has to stop and rest for a moment when he reaches the top, leaning against the hallway wall. “Yeah, uh, all of it, pretty sure. A lot of it is, um, he still had a lot of stuff in boxes. There are some boxes of mine in the closet, too but they should be pretty far back; I’ve been storing some stuff back there.”
Dany starts again back down the hall, gritting his teeth as the pain shoots up and down his leg with each slow step.
“So… some of this is, uh, yours then?” Jake sounds far away and unsure.
“I think there’s maybe one or two back there yeah,” Dany finally makes it to the bedroom door and leans against the frame; he’s embarrassed to be panting. “Should be marked though, I think.”
“S’it the uh, um, the one labeled ‘D’?” He looks up in time to see Jake folding the cardboard tabs down quickly and his blood runs cold when he sees what he’s got in front of him. He knows exactly what’s in that box.
“Yeah. Ugh, fuck,” he maneuvers as fast as he can across the room, the blush growing hot in his cheeks. “That’s um, that’s mine.”
Dany tries to hold it shut with his crutch, balancing his weight on one leg as he does but he’s still shaking too much to steady himself.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not like, I don’t want to be going through your stuff or anything.”
Dany has to put both crutches back on the floor or he’s sure to lose his balance. The box opens back up with the weight of its contents and scattered among his old college textbooks are a few porn magazines, the smooth topless men giving the contents away instantly. He knew he should have tossed those the second he’d made the show, but it had just become a chore that he’d never gotten around to, never had a reason to make it a priority.
The room is thick with tension and Dany is the first to break it, saying everything he thinks he needs to say.
“Dan wasn’t-I mean, he’s not. Dan wasn’t, like, gay or anything. N-not, well, if so he never said, but. It’s not like we were. I mean, well, he knew that I was, but he never, we never. It’s not like we ever did anything or like-.”
“I get it. It’s okay, Dany, relax.”
“I just don’t want you to think that, you know. We weren’t a couple or anything, that’s not why he was living here.”
“Dany, I know. I believe you, it’s all right. It’s all right.”
It’s not until Jake’s arms are around him that Dany realizes how hard he’s shaking.
“He was just a friend. W-we were just good friends,” he whispers it into Jake’s shoulder and he’s so glad that there’s someone there to help hold him up.
He’s not sure he could stand on his own right now.
March 30th, 2004
Vancouver, BC
He doesn’t know how they’ve found any time at all to meet up in the last month and a half, but he’d been able to convince Michael to fly out and see him on the road quite a few times. Dany had bought some of the tickets himself, and he’d gone out to Vancouver on one of the few off-days he had.
It was getting harder to lie to Michael about what he really did, though he had a strong suspicion that Michael hadn’t ever bought his story about working with computers in the first place. There had to only be so many technology conferences around North America.
Then there was the business of sneaking around in the same hotel as his teammates were staying in, which he was beginning to realize was incredibly difficult and required a lot of foresight, both hiding Michael from them and them from Michael. He’d once even booked a second room on a different floor under a fake name. If his behavior was troubling to any of his teammates, none of them mentioned it, though Dany was convinced that most of them regarded him as something to avoid anyhow. He didn’t mind that as much he might have if Michael weren’t there to keep him company, and very well distracted.
Harder still than the hotel situation was the fact that more than once Dany had been sporting unexplainable cuts or bruises that Michael would touch carefully, raising an eyebrow in question. Sometimes he would ask, but he’d always abandon the topic quickly when Dany didn’t offer any more information than a nonchalant shrug. Besides, their visits were short and infrequent enough that neither of them were about to waste any time worrying about a few scratches. At least it’s what he tells himself.
“You know, soon, I won’t be traveling so much,” Dany lets it slip one day when the two of them are getting ready to head out to dinner. He’d been thinking about the end of the season and the bright side of knowing the Thrashers won’t be qualifying for the playoffs this year. The second it is out of his mouth, he tries to ignore what it implies, but he can feel Michael looking at him though.
“Dany?”
He coughs to clear his throat before he answers. “Ugh, yeah?”
“What do you really do?” It’s so matter-of-fact that it catches him off guard. He’d half expected Michael to be upset that Dany has been clearly lying to him for well over a month, especially as they’d become more serious.
“What do you mean?” He can play this off if he really tries.
“Dany, you can’t work the remote on my television and I have seen your laptop.”
“So? What’s wrong with my laptop?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, but for someone who works in computers and technology, I’d expect you to have something newer than that.”
“I like the one I’ve got.”
The look on Michael’s face tells Dany all he needs to know. The other man is getting a lot of pleasure out of making him squirm.
“Well, what about that?” Michael points to fading cut on his lower lip, courtesy of a high stick a few games back. “Did a computer bite you?”
Dany cocks his hip and rolls his eyes. He knew this conversation was inevitable, especially once his life started to revolve more around Michael than going out to bars, though he still did occasionally. He just hadn’t expected Michael to tease him so mercilessly about it. One of his last bits of anonymity is unraveling before him and if he didn’t trust Michael so damned much, and he prays it’s not in err, he might be more scared than he is.
“I just,” he takes a deep breath, “I don’t know. It’s not that easy.”
“What’s not that easy?” Michael rises from the hotel chair and walks to where Dany stands across the room. The warm hand closes around his wrist and tugs him back toward the unmade bed.
The springs creak under their sudden combined weight.
“You can trust me, you know. M’not about to out you.” Something in the way he says it makes Dany wonder if maybe Michael already knows. He hopes not; there are some things about himself that he’s not ready to share with Michael yet.
“Don’t look me up,” he blurts suddenly. “Just, trust me, okay? I don’t want you to look up my name or me or anything like that.”
The look on Michael’s face changes and this doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. The joviality leaves the room in a rush.
“Promise me, Michael. Please promise that you won’t. I’ll tell you everything, okay? Just, not yet.”
This all feels so familiar; the hotel, the confession. He feels like he’s coming out all over again.
“I promise I won’t. But,” there’s a comforting touch on his shoulder and Michael’s hand trails down his arm before lacing their fingers together, “Dany, can’t you please at least tell me why? Why would there be stuff about you to even look up?”
“I don’t work in computers.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Well, I assumed,” Michael looks embarrassed. “I don’t really know.”
Dany huffs a breath and pulls away from the bed. His suitcase is shoved in the closet, still packed from the last roadtrip, and while he isn’t sure how to say the words, he thinks he can convey everything he wants to in one surefire way.
It doesn’t take much rummaging to find what he’s looking for and he balls his jersey up in his hands and tosses it across the room to Michael before he can change his mind.
He watches with bated breath as the other man slowly unfolds the familiar fabric and holds it up carefully. Recognition flashes over Michael’s face as he takes in the Thrashers logo before flipping it around. Nothing of their interactions to this point have led Dany to believe that Michael is a huge hockey fan, or even a fan at all, but he is a Canadian boy and Dany doesn’t doubt that he knows the team. Michael spreads the jersey out on his lap and traces the nameplate and numbers.
He looks up finally with an unreadable expression and Dany is seconds from snatching it back and running away for good if Michael doesn’t give him some indication that he understands.
“S’this yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“What?” Dany’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels like he might throw up.
“This is…” Michael bites his lip hesitantly, but Dany has grown to recognize that devious sparkle in his eyes and it’s never been more welcome than right now, “…really fucking hot.” His face lights up with a smile and he’s across the room in three strides, fistfuls of Dany’s curls, pulling him down as those lips find their way onto his.
They reluctantly break apart and Dany opens his eyes to find Michael regarding him carefully.
“I promise I won’t tell, all right? And I won’t look you up. I told you that I trust you, and I mean that,” the corner of his mouth quirks, “I did even when I knew you were lying.”
Dany’s so relieved he could cry, but he decides to show his appreciation another way.
They don’t make it to dinner.
September 3rd, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Dan is already in the lobby when Dany pulls up in the black Ferrari, parking in a visitor’s spot.
“Figured we could walk to the Starbucks,” Dan gestures somewhere down the block but Dany is already shaking his head.
He speaks over his shoulder as he locks the door. It takes him three times to get the key in, his fingers are shaking. “Naw, I was actually thinking we could go inside. Maybe.”
This doesn’t feel like any sort of conversation for the parking lot and Dany finds himself pulling his hat down over his eyes. This feels clandestine already, but he can’t back out now.
“You sure you’re okay, Heats?”
“Yeah, m’good. Just, I think maybe inside might be better.” Dan nods and doesn’t protest anymore.
The ride up the elevator is long and silent and Dany spends the majority of it wringing his hands behind his back and trying to calm his racing heart with practiced breaths.
This is not the first time in his life that’s come out, and he’s about a hundred percent sure that it won’t be the last. But, this is the first time he’s committed to coming out to someone not with the last name ‘Heatley’ and it feels too important not to be nervous about.
The ding makes Dany jump and he can feel Dan’s eyes on him, a question on his face.
“So what’s up?” Dan wastes no time as he shuts the hotel door behind them.
Dany sits down on one of the beds and takes in the suitcase and pile of laundry in the corner. He half expects Dan to sit next to him but instead he leans against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest in concern.
“Well,” Dany picks at a piece of lint on his jeans. He pulls off his cap and rubs a hand through his hair, shaking out his matted curls. He cracks his knuckles. He does everything that he can to stall having to continue his sentence.
“‘Well’ what, Dany? Just tell me.”
“Before you moved in, I mean, if you still want to, I just thought that you should know, that, um.” He swallows down the lump forming in his throat and wipes his palms on his pants. “Well, I’m--I’m gay, so.”
The room is eerily quiet and Dany squeezes the brim of his cap in his hand, watching as the cardboard bends into an exaggerated U.
“So…?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said, ‘I’m gay so…’ So what? What were you going to say?”
Dany finally looks up at Dan but he can’t read the expression on his face.
“I’m gay so, if you want to find somewhere else to live, then you can. I just wanted you to know, you know, before you moved in and found out by accident or weren’t comfortable with it or whatever.”
He waits for what feels like hours before Dan finally reacts. And when he does, he laughs. Dan throws his head back and grips the edge of the dresser and laughs. Dany doesn’t know what to do.
“Shit, Heats! I thought you were going to tell me that you were addicted to speed or runnin’ a fuckin’ drug ring or something! I don’t care if yer gay!”
Dany hears himself shushing the other man; it’s still private and hearing it shouted in the tiny room makes him nervous.
“Sorry, sorry,” Dan lowers his voice. “But, it’s not a big deal at all, all right?”
“Well it is to me!” Dany snaps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but this seems too easy. He got himself all worked up over this and Dan is acting like it’s nothing.
Dan’s face falls instantly. “I didn’t mean it like that, Dany. You’re right; of course it’s a big deal. Just, I mean, it doesn’t bother me if you are or if you aren’t.”
“You can’t tell anyone, especially not the team,” the second surge of panic rises inside of him. If Dan doesn’t think it’s a big deal, he might let it slip without thinking about it.
“Of course not! Not a word to anyone, okay? I promise.”
“I’m just, I’m not ready for it to be… a thing.” Dany gestures abstractly with his hands before he looks back down at his hat. He doesn’t see Dan move, just feels the bed dip down beside him and the arm drape over his shoulders.
“Your secret’s safe with me, roomie,” Dan flashes a tremendous grin and Dany can finally exhale.
October 7th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
He’s lying down on the gurney as the sedative and anesthesia are administered through the IV. The ligaments in his knee are torn to pieces and this surgery has been scheduled for days. He wonders if at this point maybe the doctors aren’t just going through the motions; fixing him because they have to.
As his eyes start to close on their own and his body goes heavy beyond his control, his spends his last bit of consciousness praying, like a coward, that he won’t wake up.
April 9th, 2004
Calgary, AB
Dany doesn’t like to be alone. Truthfully, he never has but for a few brief periods in his life. And not that he can’t be alone if he needs to be, he’s really good about that, but he’s always needed some form of companionship or another to feel comfortable.
Leaving Atlanta at the end of the season had felt like a release of energy and he’d spent the first week back in Calgary sleeping. The apartment he rented there had sat empty since he’d signed the lease as, until this summer, Dany had other places to be and people to see, bounding back and forth between Georgia and Wisconsin and wherever else his teammates, both current and former, happened to be at the time.
Even just sleeping, the first night alone in the apartment, Dany felt uneasy. He called Michael the next day and convinced him to fly out and stay for a bit.
Dany chases his own escape, is what his brother once told him, and it’s probably true. It certainly feels true when he thinks about what it might mean. Michael understands, because even for all the shit that Dany gives him, Michael has a remarkable intuition and he understands almost everything about Dany.
The constant distance between them was the original catalyst. The travel, even before Michael knew what the travel was actually for, the upcoming World Championship that would send Dany to Europe for at least a month, and then Michael’s finals and graduation and the knowledge that graduate school was going to keep them apart for even longer.
Initially, they spent more time apart than together physically, which was a complaint they’d both had shared. Emotionally, Dany doesn’t think he could ever connect with someone the way he does Michael, though that is a card that he plays very close to his chest, still scared about what it might mean.
Michael is the only person in the world that can see through him, he could from day one, and Dany knows that there’s a reason for this, but he’ll be damned if he could name it outright.
The need to be someone else, with someone else from time to time, not alone, was too powerful of a need for Dany to discard, and he’d never kept that Michael. He was fortunate in that Michael felt the same way, their physical relationship tempered by the constant distance.
The day they’d decided, after the conversation, Dany walked around in a fog, unable to put his finger on what it was that made him not completely for the idea of an open relationship.
That night, he felt like he’d managed to pinpoint it exactly.
Michael moves on top of him, sweat-slicked and smiling as Dany pushes up into him and moans. His fingers spread out over Michael’s thighs, kneading the tight muscles there.
“I want you to be mine,” Dany manages to find enough sense to gasp out actual words as Michael rocks his hips in just the right, maddening way.
He smiles down at Dany though slatted eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I don’ want,” he grunts as Michael takes to moving for him, “anyone else to get to do this.”
“To do what?”
“To fuck you.” He grips Michael’s thighs harder, possessively, and ruts his hips upward.
Michael lets out a breathy sound and Dany smiles.
“Don’t want anyone to get to fuck you either.” Michael’s eyes are glassy, but the devilish gleam isn’t lost on Dany. “Yer ass is mine, Heater.”
“S’usually not the context people tell me that,” he gives Michael a sloppy smile before grabbing him by the shoulders and surprising both of them by sitting up, Michael still straddling his lap. The joking is done; Dany knows that Michael can feel it, too. Their lips meet violently as Michael’s arms wrap around Dany’s neck and they rock into each other.
“You know s’only yers,” Dany whispers against Michael’s lips. “S’only ever been yers. No one else will ever get to have that from me s’long as ‘m with you.”
“S-same.” Michael bites down on his lip and Dany moans. “Now shut up and fuck me.” He does.
April 29th, 2004
Prague, Czech Republic
Being in Europe reminds him of being young in college, and Dany wonders if maybe that’s the only reason he’s been able to get through this so far, especially without his family and Michael by his side. Since his return to the league in February he’s barely been alone long enough to piss and as suffocating as it may seem to everyone else, he prefers it that way. When his own thoughts are the enemy, it’s just safer that way.
It’s been somewhat familiar as far as his play is concerned, with everyone watching him like a hawk every time he takes the ice; the rain cloud above his head is apparently just as obvious to everyone else as it is to those that know him best. The press won’t talk to him about anything other than hockey, but he can see the questions behind their eyes, and his teammates shift around him carefully, like an invisible radius around his body is forcing them to keep their distance.
They’re midway through the IIHF Tournament and he’s put up numbers that anyone would be proud of so far. But he still feels fragile.
Every game feels like a test and Dany is embarrassed when he passes and ashamed when he fails. He celebrates each goal knowing the world’s eyes are on him. If he smiles too wide, will they judge him for forgetting? If he falls short of looking genuine, will they assume he’s broken?
The pressure builds inside of his body until he wants to burst at the seams. It’s not enough to play the game anymore, and with every opportunity, he allows himself to be reminded of that.
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