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“Babe, packed your boxers.” Tyler calls from their bedroom. “Who’s a good boy?”
Jamie hopes the second part is for one of the dogs. He smooths more gel into his hair, running a comb through it.
Gerry barks. “The best boy,” Tyler says, his voice going high and soft. “Well, one of the best boys,” he quickly amends. “Don’t want your brothers getting jealous. You’re all the best boys.”
Jamie tilts his head, making sure he didn’t miss any stray hairs in back.
“Socks on.” It’s quiet for a second. “Did I pack socks?”
“Yeah, you packed them while I was in the shower,” Jamie says.
Tyler makes coffee while Jamie brings their bags out.
“Did you feed the boys?” Jamie asks. He didn’t hear Tyler call them in.
“Not yet. Just need to add milk. For you. Not for me.” Tyler winks.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re back on your bullshit quest for no body fat.”
“Benny, you are the worst chirper. Here’s your coffee. I’m picking the music.”
“Feed the boys, we’re gonna be late,” Jamie says.
“That’s a yes on the music. Sweet.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything. It doesn't matter what music Tyler picks, he’s gonna talk over it anyway.
Sure enough, the minute he settles on a Thomas Rhett song, Tyler starts talking about Jumbo Joe and Pavs. “Can you imagine being called little Joe, or mini Joe? What do they actually call him? I can’t remember.” Tyler doesn’t pause long enough for Jamie to answer. Jamie doesn’t mind, Tyler’s basically the soundtrack to his life at this point. “All those years playing together, and then bam. Both of them gone. 1700 games—do you think we’ll hit 1700 games together?”
This time, Tyler does wait for an answer. They’ve already got 3 hip surgeries between them, and the hit on Tanner a couple of weeks ago—well, shit happens. You never know. “I hope so,” Jamie settles on, because he does hope so. “And I hope we’re wearing the same sweaters when we do.”
“Me too.” Tyler says quietly, lost in a thought he’s not saying.
Tyler’s saying something about ribs as they take their seats on the plane, but Jamie’s only half listening because fuck the Blues.
“Fuck the Blues,” he says.
“Fuck ‘em, for sure,” Tyler agrees, dragging out the vowels.
Jamie doesn’t even bother to get his headphones out, just tips his head back and closes his eyes.
“Did you know otters eat one quarter of their weight each day? That’s some end of season metabolism. You’d have to eat 50 pounds of food a day. That’s a lot.”
Otters. Jamie didn’t see that coming. “Where’d you learn that?”
“One of those nature shows. You slept through it.” Tyler laces their fingers together. “They hold hands. To keep from floating away. And—get this. They have little pockets under their arms and they carry snacks there sometimes.” Tyler raises his voice. “Hey, Jakey, do you have any snacks with you?”
“What?” Oettinger says.
“Snacks.”
“I might have a granola bar.”
Jamie squeezes Tyler’s hand. “Ignore him Jake, he was watching one of those screensaver shows again.”
Tyler shoves an elbow into his side. “Some of us don’t need to sleep eighteen hours a day.”
Jamie shrugs.
Tyler keeps up a steady stream of otter facts up as they taxi. “Maybe we can go to California for the Olympic break. Wonder if you can swim with otters. Like dolphins, but small and furry.”
“Cali might be nice,” Jamie agrees.
“Just don’t call it Cali while you’re there,” Robo chirps as he makes his way up the aisle. “You playing?”
“Yeah, of course we are.” Tyler stands up and pulls Jamie with him.
Jamie laughs. “I told you I wanted to review—”
“Jam. Jame. Jamie. The tape can wait. The cards can’t.”
Jamie shakes his head.
“Please,” Tyler asks, tipping his head to the side.
“Fine,” Jamie gives in, because it’s a short flight and Tyler said please. “We’re looking at it in the hotel then.”
“Okay, Cap.” Tyler winks at him, and Jamie knows if they were alone he’d kiss him. The team knows, but it’s easier to leave that behind closed doors. It bleeds over sometimes, the need to put a hand on the small of Tyler’s back in the middle of the game, to pull him up off the ice for a celly, Tyler’s arm draped across the back of his chair at dinners.
Tyler grabs the deck of cards from Robo. “Nice try, sir. That’s my job.”
Tyler shuffles and cuts, narrating the whole time like he was a dealer in a casino in a past life. “Texas Hold ‘Em, obviously. Two for my man, Joe.” Tyler sets down cards in front of Pavs. He continues around the table, setting down cards, “Two for my favorite Finn, two for my second favorite Finn.” This earns him a shove from Esa, but Tyler doesn’t slow down. They play a few hands, Tyler giving them all a hard time. “Folding again Roops? Scared that Jamie’s got another flush? I don’t know, Pavs is looking pretty smug. Maybe you should fold.”
They hit a bump, some air pocket, the cards shifting on the table slightly. Jamie folds his hand, he can tell by Esa’s forced frown he’s sitting on something good, and Jamie’s sitting on a two and five. He waits for the chirp from Tyler, but it never comes. Sure enough, Esa’s got a straight, but Roope scoops up the pot with a full house.
“I didn’t see that coming.” Jamie laughs.
Robo nods at Esa. “Neither did he.”
“That’s why Roope’s my favorite,” Tyler says, his voice trailing off as they hit another bump.
The crackle of the speakers interrupts them. “There’s a couple of small storms ahead, it’ll be a little bumpy,” the captain announces.
Tyler deals the next hand quietly, and the hand after that silently. Jamie looks over, and Tyler’s pale, worry etched across his face. Tyler hates flying, tries to cover it up with his steady stream of jokes and stories, distracting himself from his high altitude reality. Jamie always sticks close to Tyler during the flights, even though the other guys give him a hard time. Tyler told him a long time ago that it helps.
He hits his hand down on the table. “Alright boys, we’re out.” He stands up. “C’mon, Ty. Let’s watch that tape.”
Tyler nods, and follows Jamie to the back part of the plane. “You okay?” Jamie asks as they sit down. Tyler buckles himself in. “You too,” he tells Jamie.
“I don’t—” Jamie starts, but then does it anyway. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“How do you know, you can’t know.”
“Statistically—”
“If you tell me other ways I’m more likely to die… ” Tyler glares at him.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Jamie repeats. He flips up the armrest between them, and wraps an arm around Tyler, tugging him in close. “I promise.”
Tyler huffs, but turns into Jamie, resting his head on Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie slips his thumb under the collar of Tyler’s shirt, rubbing it back and forth. This part of Tyler is so soft, Jamie loves it. He keeps up the sweeping motion, Tyler relaxing into him a little more. Holts starts walking toward them, and Tyler moves to get up, but Jamie tightens his arm. “It’s okay.” Holtby keeps going, just nods his head at them. Someone snores nearby.
Tyler slips his arm around Jamie’s torso. “Thanks,” he mumbles.
Jamie nods, keeps stroking across the curve of Tyler’s neck. “California, eh? Drive up the coast. Won’t be as pretty as Victoria.” Tyler snorts, but Jamie keeps going. “I’ve never done a long road trip. I thought I’d drive to Dallas, but it’s like 3600 kilometers. It would have been thirty six hours of driving to get to Dallas. Kelowna was only an eight hour drive.” Tyler is still quiet, so Jamie keeps talking. “Might be fun, a road trip. You’d have to let me pick the music sometimes though.”
“Never,” Tyler says. “No way.”
“We can go to that place Pavs took us last time we played the Sharks. And I think Sarah said Half Moon Bay is nice.” Jamie isn’t sure they’re even going to get an Olympic break now that they missed so many games, but if they do, he wants to spend it somewhere with Tyler. Jamie keeps whispering, about finding small town diners and waking up late, staying somewhere with a hot tub, driving through the redwoods. Tyler tenses when they hit another rough patch, and Jamie drops a kiss to the top of Tyler’s head. “We’re halfway there.”
Jamie talks and talks, about nothing and everything, about the funny thing Cash did the other day and about dinner with Bish last week, as they head east, until the sky smooths out and they begin their descent.
Tyler picks his head up and kisses Jamie, quick and light. “Thanks.”
Jamie kisses him again, lingering for just a second. “See, wasn’t so bad. Time to get you some ribs.”