Archive of Our Own

The funny thing about the whole thing is that Luca really sees none of it coming.

Because, yes, maybe he did have a tiny, very little crush on Ilya Rozanov growing up. And sure, maybe he did have his poster hanging up next to his bed. And okay, fine, maybe there had been a time in his life where he watched every single Raiders game with a hyperfocus on a certain player, and then secretly ventured onto his Tumblr feed after to watch and rewatch his favorite gifs from the game.

Yes, maybe all those things are true. And yeah, it ends up being a little embarrassing, when somehow, the universe decides that he should end up on the same fucking team as his teenage crush, and the team figures that out pretty quickly. But it’s fine, because it’s not like he’s actively crushing on the man now, not actually.

So he takes the lighthearted jokes about being the Rozanov fanboy of the team—it’s not as bad when Cory is revealed to be just as big of a Hollander fanboy with his giant poster and now the team splits their teasing between the two of them—and eventually, he settles into his life. His rookie season is coming to an end—though that designation doesn’t really seem to matter to the team, who seem like they’ll unfailingly continue calling him and the other three younger players “rooks”—and Luca finally feels like he’s fitting in. Into the team, the dynamic, the camaraderie, into the way the Cens are more than just colleagues working together.

Luca’s been miserably homesick this season and he knows he hadn’t exactly been hiding it well. He still misses it, misses his mom and his sister and the street he grew up on and all his favorite places to eat, but the ache isn’t as sharp as it had been at the beginning of the season. Doesn’t sit like a heavy stone in his heart anymore, not when he has Cory and Connor and Jacob, and Ilya, and Harris, and everyone on the team. A second family, almost.

It’s a little funny, when he’s finally settling into who he is as a hockey player and a person alike, that Leo Zicari comes bulldozing his way into his life.

It’s not that Luca doesn’t know him, because of course he does. They’re two of the top rookies this season, competing head to head. Although, they aren’t really being pushed as rivals yet, because the Hollander-Rozanov rivalry is still the league’s biggest wet dream. But Luca remembers meeting Zicari for the first time off the ice, one of the times when the Cens played the Bears earlier this season. Ilya seems to still be on good terms with most of the Bears, at least the ones that have been on the team since he’d been a rookie, so it didn’t seem that crazy that most of the two teams ended up together at a random bar in Boston after their game.

Luca remembers catching a glimpse of dark hair and a smirk and tattoos in the dim bar lighting. Remembers meeting the other rookie’s dark green eyes. Remembers the way Leo had introduced himself like Luca hadn’t been on the opposite side of the ice from him two hours before that. Remembers the easy flow of conversation, the eventual exchange of numbers (it’s okay, it’s normal, because they’re both rookies, and they’re the same age, and they’re both far from home, and it would be nice to have a friend, Luca thinks; he justifies), and seeing Leo’s actual smile—not his everpresent smirk—for the first time when they’d been talking about his home back in Italy. But then Luca had been pulled away abruptly, when Ilya threw an arm around his shoulders and dragged him over to the older Bears for an introduction, and never happened to bump into Zicari for the rest of the night.

Then, about a month or so after that meeting, Leo had texted him.

It’d been about something random, asking if he’d finally watched the new movie they’d briefly discussed that night at the bar. It takes Luca thirteen hours to text him back.

But then, somehow, they keep texting.

Leo sends a link to a stupid Buzzfeed quiz, about which Marvel superhero they’d be (Luca gets Captain America, and Leo sends a voice note of him laughing for a minute straight). Luca rambles about a particularly fancy drawing supplies set he’d seen on Instagram (a few months later, that same set shows up on his apartment doorstep for his birthday, unsigned). They both jokingly complain about their teams and practices and games, and talk about their families and their home countries, and being homesick.

It’s not until two months after the first time they text that Luca realizes they’re texting pretty much every single day.

So, it’s not that unexpected when eventually, they start mentioning things that aren’t as easy or casual. Things that Luca doesn’t usually talk about, maybe besides with his sister.

Like how much Luca misses his dad, and having to come to terms with the fact that he never got to see Luca make it to the league. Like his art, and the sketches that hide in his nightstand.

Leo’s a little slower to open up, but then one night he texts about his younger brother—who’d just moved to California for college—and how they used to be inseparable growing up. How Leo moving to Boston started their slow drift apart, but that he’d just gotten a call from him and that they’d had a chance to finally catch up. He texts about his comic book phase, that isn’t really a phase, and his prized collection that he hides in his room.

When the whole Fanmail incident happens, Leo is the first to send it to him, with a dozen question marks and half a dozen emojis after. They wait for the official confirmation from Shane and Ilya before actually getting into it, but after…well. It’s no secret that both of them grew up watching the rivalry, grew up idolizing two of the greatest hockey players ever, and so it’s nice, being able to discuss it with someone who gets it.

And there seems to be a sort of unspoken mutual understanding between them. Luca’s little idol crush on Ilya isn’t exactly subtle—especially in some of the social media videos that Harris makes them record from time to time, which Leo always texts him about the day they get posted—but finding out Leo had a similar crush on Shane growing up makes him laugh. Makes him a little giddy, though he can’t put together why, exactly.

Because somewhere along the line, now, as the season draws to a close, Luca realizes that Leo might be his closest friend. And all they’ve done is text.

But that changes when summer rolls around, as the days get longer and the weather shifts into something humid and languid. Luca stays in Ottawa, though his mama and sister come to visit for almost a month of it. He’s eternally grateful for his decision when he gets an invitation to Ilya and Shane’s wedding, because missing that would’ve been one of the biggest regrets of his life, probably. He’s grateful again when the team finds out that they’re getting a new member, and that it’s Shane fucking Hollander.

All in all, Luca’s summer is busy, and a little insane. He takes his mama and sister around Ottawa, showing them the places he knows and exploring the ones he doesn’t together with them. He hangs out with Cory, Connor, and Jacob: going out to a new club or playing mini-golf that’s less about getting the ball in and more about who can distract the others the best. He goes to the gym, and the rink, and runs into the other Cens because they’re a little impossible to avoid—not that he wants to. He draws, and he goes on hikes, and he relaxes into his routines of the off-season.

One routine, much to Luca’s surprise, ends up being his calls with Leo.

The other rookie had gone back home to Italy for the summer, and part of Luca had been worried that it would be the end of whatever friendship they had built over the season. Turns out, he’d really been worrying about nothing, because all of a sudden, they go from texting to calling.

The first time it happens is at night in Ottawa, when Leo calls him randomly and startles him while he’d been sketching with an old hockey game playing on TV. Luca had stared at his phone for a few long moments, then hurriedly picked up before it could go to voicemail.

Leo’s excuse had been that he hadn’t wanted to type out his rant about the new video game he’d just gotten and played until three in the morning, and calling is just easier at this time of night. Luca serenely listens to him rave on about it for half an hour, before he puts his foot down and tells Leo to get some sleep.

But as summer stretches on, their calls go from twice a week to almost every day. Not always for long, sometimes just the length of a grocery trip or a hike. Sometimes, it’s when Leo’s already home and in bed for the night, and more often than not, those end up being FaceTimes instead of regular calls, Leo asking Luca to turn the camera around and give him a tour of wherever he is. Sometimes, it’s when Luca’s drawing and Leo’s playing his game, and they’re both not really talking, but the silence is comfortable in a way Luca can’t really describe. Sometimes, it’s when Luca is making dinner, and Leo’s on FaceTime, being annoying about everything from the amount of salt he adds to the way he chops the vegetables. Sometimes, it’s when Leo is out on a random errand for his mom, and he just calls Luca so he doesn’t have to drive alone.

It’s a routine; it’s a habit; it’s something Luca starts looking forward to, starts waiting for every day. They’d been friends during the season, sure, but Luca’s never really had a friend like what Leo becomes over the summer.

It’s fun, and terrifying, and comfortable, and unfamiliar, all at the same time.

But it’s just Luca and Leo, and they’re friends, and he likes talking with him and laughing with him. Their friendship isn’t really a secret, although the public doesn’t really know about it. But since it’s the summer, it’s not something even the team really knows a lot about, beyond what they’d seen during the season. Sure, his mama and sister know, given how frequently his calls with Leo become, and Leo’s family catch him talking to Luca way too often to not know, either.

It’s a little strange, the first time Leo talks to Anna on FaceTime, and then Mama a few minutes later. Luca had been preparing dinner as he waited for them to get back from their second trip to Rideau Canal—he’d declined going with them this time, spending his time in the gym instead—while on the phone with Leo, who is half scrolling sites for a particular comic book he’s been looking for for ages and half teasing Luca about the spices he’s using, like always.

And so, Luca doesn’t hang up when his family comes back, because this isn’t something he’s necessarily hiding from them. It’s just the first time that they’re talking while his sister and mama are in the same room. Anna ends up staring at Leo with narrowed eyes for a couple of moments while he says hello, then tells him he’s a little bit of a cocky little shit on the ice—because of course she knows who he is, she watches Luca’s games whenever she can—which makes Leo laugh. A minute later, they had both teamed up against Luca and his culinary skills, and he’d already regretted introducing the two of them.

It’s less chaotic when his mama comes into the kitchen and into the view of the camera, and Leo tones down his teasing to introduce himself properly. Luca hadn’t realized the sudden tension in his shoulders as he’d leaned over the stove until the conversation between Leo and Mama flowed naturally, and his shoulders dropped in relief.

Eventually, Leo hangs up when he needs to go to bed, and Anna and Mama spend dinner asking Luca about him. Luca remembers repeating ‘we’re just friends’ maybe eleven times that night, though Anna hadn’t seemed like she believed him.

A couple days later, he meets Leo’s family on FaceTime, which ends up being slightly more hectic given Leo’s four siblings who are all somehow in the same place for once. Leo texts him after that call is over, complaining that his siblings and parents all like Luca more than him, and how unfair it is that they don’t know how evil Luca can be when he wants to be.

He sends back an angel emoji.

All that to say, Luca and Leo are not hiding, but the Cens don’t exactly know about their friendship like that. That, however, changes when Luca is out with Cory, Jacob, and Connor one night, sitting at a Taco Bell after finally making it out of the club. His phone buzzes three times on the table, and Luca reaches for it as they wait for Jacob—the only sober one—to come back with their food.

Two seconds later, his phone rings with a FaceTime call. Cory groans at the sound from where he’s half laid on top of the table next to Luca, significantly more drunk and tired than the other three.

“Turn that shit off,” Cory mumbles into his arms, while Connor’s eyes narrow at Luca from across the table.

“Who the fuck’s calling you at two in the morning?” Connor asks with his eyebrows raised, and Luca ignores them both as he swipes on his phone to pick up Leo’s call.

Leo’s face appears on screen, and he takes one look at Luca’s face before snorting.

“Tipsy, huh?”

Luca glares at him, raising his hand to flip him off. “What d’you want?”

“Nothing.” Leo grins, and Luca ignores the dimple that pops on his cheek with the action. “Just wanted to see what Luca Haas looks like when he’s drunk.”

“The fuck?” That’s about the only warning Luca gets before he’s suddenly being shoved over, Connor sliding into the side of the booth with him and Cory, leaning over Luca’s arm to obnoxiously stick his face in the view of the camera. “Is that Zicari?”

Cory pops his head up at that, apparently not as exhausted as he’d been a second ago, and leans over Luca’s other arm to catch a glimpse of his screen.

“Holmberg. Young.” Leo greets in a flat tone, and Luca’s lips twitch slightly at the great view of their faces Leo’s probably getting right now. The effect of the alcohol in his system seems to finally start to fade, and Luca’s not sure whether or not he’s glad that he’s going to remember this tomorrow. “Where’s the last piece of your little quartet?”

“Why’re we talking to Zicari?” Two paper bags of food land on the table as if summoned by Leo’s question, and both Connor and Cory moan in gratitude before digging into the bags to grab their crunchwraps. Jacob, meanwhile, leans over the back of the booth over Luca’s shoulder, a brow tilted up as he looks at Leo on the screen.

“Ah, there he is,” Leo says, a small smirk on his lips. “Having fun being the sober one, LaPointe?”

How Leo had put that together in under two minutes, Luca doesn’t know, but he leans back into the booth, Jacob’s chin bumping into his shoulder as he does. Connor and Cory are still on either side of him, but seem more invested in their food instead of the phone at this point.

“Eh, worth it to see Haasy get halfway to shitfaced, I think,” Jacob replies, ruffling Luca’s hair slightly with a hand. Luca reaches up haphazardly with his free hand to smack away Jacob’s hand, accidentally slapping his cheek instead, resulting in a quiet yelp.

Leo snorts loudly, and the smile on his face gets wider. “Luca, I’m only sending cat pictures if you send me pictures from tonight.”

“Fuck you, Zicari,” Luca mutters, although the tips of his ears feel a little hot, all of a sudden. “M’hanging up.”

“Nooo,” Leo drones out dramatically, and Jacob huffs out a small laugh. “LaPointe, pictures. Don’t let Haas forget.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” Jacob answers, and suddenly, Luca knows that Leo will end up with the pictures—and probably videos—on Jacob’s phone somehow. “You in Boston?”

Leo’s eyes shift slightly, before he responds. “No, home for the summer. I’ll probably be coming back soon, though.”

“You are?” Luca asks, because Leo hadn’t mentioned that yet.

Leo hums in answer, but before he can say anything else, Luca hears a shout in the background.

“Shit, Aria’s bout to leave, I gotta go,” he says, the camera shaking slightly as he rushes around the room, grabbing something that Luca can’t see. “See you guys next season. Bye, Luca, I’ll call you later.”

Luca barely gets in a “bye” before Leo hangs up, mid-run down the stairs. Jacob makes his way into the booth, and Connor finally moves out from next to Luca, sliding in next to Jacob. Hunger finally hits him, and he reaches over to grab his own food, not processing the silence that had taken over the table until he glances up to see the other three all staring at him.

“What?”

Connor’s the first to break. “What do you mean, what. Since when do you and Leo Zicari fucking FaceTime?”

Oh. Well, the not-secret’s out, maybe. “We’re friends,” Luca mumbles, taking a bite so he doesn’t have to say anything else.

“Friends.” The deadpan tone in Cory’s voice makes Jacob laugh a little across from him. “You barely FaceTime us, and we see each other all the time.”

“Maybe that’s why I don’t FaceTime you,” Luca responds pragmatically.

“Luca.” Jacob’s no-nonsense tone makes him exhale out a sigh. He guesses the least he could do is explain a little, since Jacob did get the nice crunchwrap in his hands right now.

“We’re friends,” Luca repeats, avoiding direct eye contact with all three of them. He’s not exactly…worried that his friends will say anything bad about the cross-team friendship, especially after the whole Shane and Ilya thing, but he’s not completely anxiety-free about the whole thing either. “We talk, a lot. I guess.”

He feels their stares as he continues eating, and Cory’s is particularly heavy on the side of his face. Out of all of them, Cory’s probably the one he’s closest to. The one that had come over to his place randomly last season, as if he’d somehow known when Luca was feeling especially homesick. The one Luca had helped when he’d been panicking and spiraling about asking the girl he’d been dating to be his girlfriend. The one that has a key to Luca’s apartment, and vice versa.

“We know you’re friends, Luca,” Cory states, sounding a lot more sober than five minutes ago. “Y’know you used to text him a lot during season, right?”

“Yeah.” Luca does know that, and he wonders what they would say if they knew they call pretty much every day. Maybe he keeps that information to himself, at least for now. He doesn’t want them getting the wrong idea about him and Leo (not that there is a “him and Leo”; they’re just friends).

And he’s not sure if Connor hears something in Luca’s voice, or simply decides to change the tone of the conversation, but his next words are said with a small smirk. “So…is this something we can bring up in the Cens chat, or is this a Romeo and Juliet situation?”

Jacob and Cory both let out loud laughs at that, while Luca flips Connor off, pushing his glasses up with his other hand.

“It’s not a secret,” Luca grumbles, thinking about all the times when one of the Cens had caught him texting Leo last season. It’s happened one too many times for Luca to believe none of them had talked about it. “And not Romeo and Juliet, we’re just friends.”

He briefly notices the look the three of them share across the table, and resolutely ignores it.

Luca has a vague feeling he’s gonna be doing a lot of that this upcoming season.

Somewhere into Luca’s second season as a Centaur, Leo starts calling him amo.

Now, this season’s been crazy enough, because all of a sudden, Luca is sharing a line with Shane Hollander as his center. He’s still adjusting to the man being on the Centaurs, in all honesty, because on the ice, Shane is a little…intense.

It’s not bad, really, just a lot sometimes. But Luca appreciates it, mostly, because Shane’s commitment to being the best and to perfecting certain shots and plays ultimately means that Luca becomes a part of that. He learns to tighten up his edges and to be where he needs to be on the wing and picks up some of Shane’s routines to sharpen his mental game. Ilya’s always been a player he’s looked up to—and still does, obviously—but Luca somehow finds himself with Shane as somewhat of a mentor this season.

It leads to more jokes, of course, because that’s what this team does. From Ilya, complaining to Shane about stealing ‘his rookie.’ From the whole team, teasing about Luca—and the rest of the rookies—being adopted by both Ilya and Shane. From the rookies, declaring Shane and Ilya as the number one team dads of all time.

But what all that really means is that Luca finds himself shifting into a new normal this season, and it’s something to adapt to.

It comes easier this time around.

But then Leo calls him amo for the first time, and Luca…spirals, just a little bit.

It’s so casual, that Luca thinks he misheard him, honestly. It happens during one of their calls, when Luca is doing a portrait sketch of Ilya, Shane, and Anya that Ilya asked if he could do last week to hang in their home, and Leo is playing some video game as usual. Now that they’re back in the same time zone—at least when neither of them are traveling for games—their FaceTimes are easier. Maybe longer.

Luca is a little too in the zone, hyperfocused on the shading of Anya, that apparently he misses Leo saying his name multiple times.

Then, Leo’s voice finally processes in his brain.

“Luca!” There’s a small laugh in Leo’s voice. “The fuck are you doing, amo?”

Luca’s pencil stills on the page. Amo. Oh my god.

“Sorry,” Luca replies before it gets weird. He doesn’t drop the pencil, doesn’t do anything to reveal the slight panic rushing down his spine since Leo can see him. “Sorry, I was working on Anya’s fur. What did you say?”

Leo snickers. “I asked if you have practice tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Luca moves his gaze over to his phone propped up against his water bottle, and sees Leo’s eyes dart away from the screen. “Yeah, we do.” He sighs, remembering what Harris had texted earlier today in the group chat the team has with him. “Apparently, we’re also filming some short hockey trivia thing before, so that will be so much fun.”

The last few words are dry and deadpan, and Leo’s laugh makes Luca’s lips tilt up into a small smile, though he keeps his eyes on his sketchbook. He likes making Leo laugh; likes seeing the way his shoulders shake with it sometimes, likes hearing the joy in his voice knowing that it’s because of him. He has a really nice laugh, Luca thinks briefly, before pushing all thoughts of it out of his mind.

When they eventually hang up a while later, Luca stares at the black screen of his phone for a good five minutes, before he grabs it and navigates to an incognito tab.

Thus begins his descent into the internet’s rabbit holes, because Luca can’t really get it out of his mind. Can’t unhear Leo’s voice, can’t unhear the low, smooth tone that he’s come to know so well, speak the word amo.

Almost an hour and multiple Google searches later, after scouring Reddit, and Quora, and maybe twenty other sites, he learns absolutely nothing. Well, that isn’t completely true because he learns the top five pet names in Italian, and that polpetto literally translates to meatball but is one of the most popular nicknames, and that there are more food-related nicknames than he would have thought in Italian. But when it comes to amo, he comes to no conclusive verdict. Which doesn’t really help. The internet tells him that ‘amo’ can be said to a friend or to a partner or a loved one.

So, it means nothing. It’s probably just a common word in Leo’s vocabulary. Everything’s all good. Everything’s all fine.

So fine, in fact, that when the team finds out about it eventually, Luca doesn’t even react that much.

It’s a regular practice day, no content needing to be filmed for once, and so the team is dragging their feet a little as they make their way off the ice and into the locker room after. They have a home game against Buffalo tomorrow, but well, it’s Buffalo.

But Luca had been reviewing some game film from earlier in the season yesterday, because there’s one specific pass that he’s been practicing that’s not connecting during the actual game. It’s not a play they implement often, but it’s been stuck in his head, and he wants Shane’s opinion on it, because Shane always has an opinion on anything hockey-related.

And that leads to the both of them sitting on the bench in the locker room, Luca’s phone horizontal in Shane’s hand as they both watch and rewatch the tape. What Luca hadn’t really considered is the fact that Ilya’s locker is inevitably right next to Shane’s, which means Ilya is right next to them.

Ilya also seems to be a little too nosy and has perfect vision. A deadly combination at the moment.

Because Leo chooses right then to text him. And—the part that unfortunately catches Ilya’s attention—calls him ‘amo’ in it.

Luca doesn’t even read the full thing but he sees the way Shane’s brow rises in his peripheral vision, because the text is right there and there really is no way to pretend it’s not. It slides up and away a moment later, but it’s too late.

Shane seems to anticipate it before Ilya even talks, which Luca assumes is the sort of thing that comes from spending over a decade with the same person.

“Ily—”

“Amo?” Ilya cuts him off, already stripped out of his practice jersey and gear, so he’s shirtless as he turns to Luca, hands on his hips. “Haasy, why is Boston rookie calling you amo?”

There’s a brief pause of silence before muffled laughs come from Cory, Connor, and Jacob at the question, and he throws a glare over at them. The older Cens all perk up around the room—he swears he’s never seen a locker room more invested in gossip than this one—their curious glances now all focused on Luca.

“We’re friends,” Luca states calmly, before he goes to start the video on his phone. He really needs to start putting his phone on do not disturb before handing it to anyone ever again, especially when he’s in the vicinity of his team. An important lesson learned, he thinks.

“Amo?” Zane asks, with a little humor in his voice. “Haasy…”

There’s various chirps and teasing from around the locker room, but they’re all lighthearted. Leo and him have been pushed as rivals more and more this season, now that Shane and Ilya are on the same team. Almost like the league is trying to make a Boston vs Ottawa rivalry take the place of the old Boston vs Montreal one. But the Bears and Cens have never hated each other like that, so it doesn’t really work. So, all that the hype around the Haas-Zicari rivalry really does is open up the fact that Leo and Luca are friends to both of their teams.

“We’re just friends,” Luca reiterates to his team, shaking his head slightly in exasperation. “Amo can be used with friends too.”

It looks like Ilya is about to say something else, but Luca sees the way Shane shakes his head subtly, eyes on his husband. The captain closes his mouth, though he has a feeling this conversation might not be over. Unfortunately.

He’s proven right, of course, the next day, when the team ends up at Monk’s after defeating Buffalo 3-1. One of the goals had been his, and Luca had tried not to smile in the locker room when he’d checked his phone after the end of the third period to see a text from Leo, a joking taunt about how Luca’s second period goal had been good, but obviously not as good as Leo’s own had been earlier that day.

It leads to them texting back and forth, through Luca’s post-game routine and the team getting ready to head out to Monk’s, and through most of his teammates slowly getting buzzed and then tipsy, although none of them seem to be wasted at least. He’d decided not to drink tonight, instead splitting his time between letting his gaze wander around the room and texting Leo.

He feels Ilya’s presence behind him at the table he’s sitting at before the captain drops down into the open chair next to him, and Luca immediately knows what’s coming.

“Is that Boston rookie?” Ilya barely seems buzzed, though Luca knows he had a drink in his hand when he’d glanced over to where most of the vets had been about ten minutes ago. One of Ilya’s curls hangs over near his eye, and Luca snorts quietly at the way the captain tries to blow it off his face for a couple of seconds. Maybe he’s a little more buzzed than he appears.

“Yeah,” Luca replies, because he knows Ilya would be able to catch him out on a lie if he did. He’s heard him tell everyone he knows about how perceptive he is about twenty times too many, by this point.

“Hm.” Ilya’s eyes travel from the table in front of them over to his husband, as they always seem to do when they’re in the same room. They soften slightly as he watches Shane laugh at something Wyatt says, hand curled loosely around a ginger ale. And all of a sudden, Luca feels this…rush of longing. It’s a little crushing, a little sharp around the edges, the way he quickly looks between Shane and Ilya’s expression and just—wants. Wants the shared glances across a room filled with people, wants the secret touches that aren’t really that secret, wants the feeling of knowing someone so well that it almost feels like reading each other’s minds. The want always seems to twist in his gut harder when he sees the way Ilya and Shane are, and Luca’s sure that if someone had wanted to psychoanalyze that, there would be a lot they could say. Instead, he chooses to take a sip of the water in front of him and ignore it completely. “Zicari, yes?”

Ilya is very…not subtle. “You’re not subtle, you know,” Luca says out loud, and Ilya lets a small smirk stretch out on his face.

“You are very close with him,” Ilya states more than asks, just in time for Luca’s phone to buzz on the table with another notification. He doesn’t look at it. “You met him over summer?”

“Oh. No.” Luca presses his glasses up on his face, eyes roving over to the bar counter. “No, he was in Italy and I was here, so…we just text. And call. Really, we’re just friends.”

The weight of Ilya’s gaze is heavy, and Luca chances meeting it for a few seconds before sitting back in his seat. He’s sure really sure what this is, exactly. Because he and Leo really are just friends right now, though no one seems to believe him when he says it. He has a feeling Ilya doesn’t believe it, either.

“Is not asshole to you, is he?” Ilya asks after a few long moments of silence. “Marly tells me he is…annoying shit sometimes.”

Luca almost snorts, thinking back to Leo’s text from after the game. He also catches what Ilya let slip, that the two captains had talked about the two of them, at least vaguely. “A little, maybe,” he says. His lips twitch with a tiny smile. “It’s mostly just funny, though.”

“Ah.” There’s something laced in the word, something Luca can’t parse completely, but he sees how Ilya’s eyes are back to following Shane. He thinks about their dynamic, the way asshole almost seems to be one of Shane’s nicknames for Ilya most of the time. He thinks back to when he was growing up and would religiously watch the Russian’s interviews and post-game press, and notice the general way he’d been, at least with the public. Sure, Shane and Ilya had always been something their entire careers, and possibly not exactly friends, but…Luca thinks that maybe Ilya gets it. Gets Leo. “Is good you are better hockey player, then.”

Luca’s cheeks turn hot, still not used to the way Ilya compliments him offhandedly, like that. Still not completely used to the concept that Ilya Rozanov is somehow his captain and believes he’s a good hockey player. He still thinks he’s dreaming, sometimes.

“I think we are tied in goals, actually,” Luca mumbles after a second, dropping his gaze to his phone. His fingers itch with the urge to respond to Leo.

“Yes, Shane told me this.” Ilya slaps a hand on Luca’s shoulder, patting him a few times. “But do not worry, you are beating him in shooting percentage.”

There’s a smirk on Ilya’s lips, and Luca feels himself relaxing subconsciously with the familiarity of it. Although, this subtle slip-up doesn’t go unnoticed by Luca either. It’s great, really, that his captain is apparently going around talking about him and Leo with everybody. So great.

“We’re not actually rivals,” Luca counters quietly, because he doesn’t know what Ilya’s reaction to that will be.

Shane and Ilya…their dynamic had been built on their rivalry. Their relationship seems to thrive on both of their competitive natures, which is pretty evident every time they face-off against each other in practice. Or play Uno. Or do literally anything, honestly. Not that they don’t have their softer moments, because there are plenty of those that Luca has been privy to, but it’s very clear to him—and the entire team, and probably the world—that the competition part of their rivalry has always been…foreplay, or something like that. Luca and Leo may be painted as rivals in the league’s eyes, but they aren’t, really. The public seems to be catching on to it too, noticing their friendship more and more, recently. And it doesn’t exactly help that Leo loves to comment on the Centaurs’ posts, usually to tease him as much as possible. Plus on the occasions that Luca comments on the Bears’ posts, Leo is always the first to respond to him.

“Hm, I know,” Ilya responds, drumming his fingers lightly against the table. He leans forward, placing the elbow of his other arm on the table to rest his chin on his hand. “And you do not need to be. If you do not want. League is…” He waves his hand around as he sighs, a bittersweet tinge entering his tone. “Irritating, about that. But you can ignore. It does not have to be everything.”

There’s something a little wistful in Ilya’s voice, and it’s inevitable, how Luca can’t stop himself from thinking about Ilya and Shane, again. Because it’s not too hard to make the jump from Ilya’s words to the first decade of his career. To all of the constant comparisons the couple had faced, sure—though that doesn’t really seem to be a problem for those two—but more importantly, the narrative of their hatred of each other.

Every face-off, every game, every time they’d even been in close vicinity of each other, had always been closely examined, no one wanting to miss the chance to see the animosity between the two biggest rivals in the league. Of course, Luca had been on the side of the internet that had thought there was something…else between them, but he’d been in the minority, obviously.

Ilya and Shane had clearly had no choice in the rivalry they were forced into, even before they’d actually been drafted. It’s a little sad, the way Ilya says it does not have to be everything, when for them, it had been. When for them, it wasn’t something that could be ignored.

And so, Luca knows, wholly, that Leo and him being able to publicly shift their own narrative from purely rivals to friends is really only possible because of Ilya and Shane. For the shift they’d created in the league, though he mourns for them that it hadn’t been on their own terms.

“Thank you,” he finally says, and the expression on Ilya’s face tells him he understands that Luca’s talking about more than what he’d just said. That it’s about more than just this conversation. He lets that sit for a minute, giving Ilya a hesitant smile when the captain squeezes his shoulder gently, before injecting some humor into his voice and changing the subject. “Think this is the longest you’ve been away from Shane since you got married.”

Ilya barks out a laugh, inevitably catching Shane’s attention with its volume. He excuses himself from whatever conversation he’s in and starts to make his way over to them, and Luca smiles a bit at the way Ilya’s eyes trail him the whole time, a fond look splayed on his face.

“Everything good?” Shane asks when he’s finally close enough, arm sliding across Ilya’s shoulder to rest his hand on his collarbone. He leans into his husband, who not-so-subtly slides his hand around Shane’s waist and dips his fingers into his front pocket.

They always seem to be touching, Luca’s noticed, at least when they’re close enough in proximity. Ilya squeezing Shane’s hip as he passes by him, or Shane running his hand through Ilya’s curls, or their fingers brushing in the locker room. Other people might—and probably do—call it a little extreme, but Luca doesn’t see it. After over twelve years of having to hide every glance, every touch, every significant moment of their relationship, he doesn’t think the way that they are is too much at all, really.

He thinks he understands, to be honest.

“Yes,” Ilya answers, before giving Luca a smirk. A warning sign, Luca notes as he keeps talking. “Leo is blowing up Luca’s phone. Is why he is sitting here alone, like iPad kid in corner.”

“Shut up,” Luca mutters, while Shane’s lips twitch like he’s holding back a grin. “He texted once the whole time you’ve been here.”

An iPad kid. God. Luca doesn’t know who taught him the phrase—he wishes he did, so he can send them a strongly worded text of how they’re kind of ruining his life—but it’s been Ilya’s favorite thing to pick on recently, with all of the rookies. Whether they’re just pulling out their phones to check something really quick, or are simply just leaning over the tablet to review some film, the captain keeps saying it. Luca desperately needs Ilya to learn some other viral phrase soon, so he can go back to texting in peace, honestly.

Shane, thankfully, takes mercy on him. “Did you see the WAGs chat? What Harris said?”

“Ah, yes,” Ilya says, and Luca just…tunes out the rest of their conversation a little. Both of them either don’t seem to notice because they’re too wrapped up in each other, or—more likely—let the fact that Luca clearly picks up his phone to talk to Leo go unmentioned for now. If Luca looks up, he’s almost one hundred percent certain they’re exchanging a look.

So, he doesn’t.

The thing about playing Boston nowadays is that after the game is over, after the league and the fans get their weird fill of the “new rivalry,” both teams always seem to end up in the same place. He’s not sure if it’s always planned—though he’s starting to suspect it is—but when he walks into the nightclub that the team’s dragged him to and almost immediately sees Cliff’s head looming above most of the people there, he’s not even the slightest bit surprised.

Leo had texted him earlier saying his team is forcing him to go out and not taking no for an answer, and Luca hadn’t even had time to tell him his team is unfortunately doing the same before Cory had thrown an arm over his shoulder and basically dragged him out of their room.

When Luca’s gaze finally meets Leo’s as the group grabs drinks and makes its way over to the slightly quieter corner where most of the Bears are hanging out, his eyes widen a little before he breaks out into a grin.

“Should’ve known you’d end up here, amo,” Leo greets, smoothly tossing Cory’s arm off of Luca’s shoulder as he gives Luca a quick hug. Cory lets out an offended sound, which Leo promptly ignores as he keeps his arm on his shoulders. Luca pretends not to see the smirks exchanged between Ilya and Cliff. He’s not arrogant enough to think this whole thing is a ploy for him and Leo, but…he wonders.

“Of course we are here,” Ilya butts in, his arm wrapped around Shane’s waist casually. Luca had honestly been a little surprised he’d even come out tonight, but he’d heard Shane say something about only for a couple of hours when they’d been waiting for everyone to come out of their rooms back at the hotel. It’s not a well-kept secret that Shane is not the biggest fan of…any of this, but when he sees the complicated expression on Shane’s face when Ilya slides behind him and places his chin over his shoulder, he wonders if something about this is a little important to Shane, too. The idea that they’re out with their team, along with another team in the league, and Ilya is wrapped around Shane in public, and the world isn’t ending. That they can be like that, and everything is okay. “What, you think I forgot best club in Boston just because I moved to most boring place in Canada?"

Ilya’s provoking question makes the Bears holler, while Zane, Wyatt, and Shane all start protesting.

“You love Ottawa, Roz, don’t even lie,” Zane declares as he hits Ilya’s forearm with the back of his hand. “Don’t make me tell the Bears ‘bout all the puzzles you have at your plac—”

“Fuck off, Bood,” Ilya states, and Cliff and one of the other Bears starts chirping at him. Luca, however, isn’t paying attention to the vets anymore.

“So, Holmberg,” Leo starts with a small smirk on his face, and the rumble of his voice being so close to Luca is…something. He ignores it. “How’d your date with LaPointe’s sister go?”

Connor’s eyes widen, as Luca smacks Leo’s stomach hard. “Leo.”

“How do you know that?” Connor asks, while Jacob snorts, taking a sip of his drink. “Haas, the fuck?”

“In his defense,” Leo says with a grin, “You posted about it on your story. The only thing Luca confirmed is that she’s his sister.”

Jacob raises his empty glass in a mock salute at Leo, whose fingers have started lightly drawing a pattern along Luca’s shirt sleeve. “Which also isn’t really a secret when you fucking tagged her, bro,” Jacob adds, and Connor shoves him playfully, before both of them make their way to the bar to get more drinks.

“You getting drunk tonight?” Leo asks Luca, leaning closer to his ear, though the corner they’re in isn’t excessively loud. The way something in his stomach pulses a little is just because of the alcohol already in his system. That’s all. Not the way Leo is just a little closer than usual, or the way his cologne wraps around Luca in a slightly heady kind of haze, or the way his breath hits Luca’s ear when he talks. No, it’s just the alcohol.

Luca shakes his head, taking another sip of the vodka soda in his hands. They’ve got an afternoon flight back to Ottawa tomorrow, and he’d rather not be deathly hungover like he knows half the team probably will be. “Cory and me got a pact tonight,” he voices with a tiny grin, and Cory snorts out a laugh.

“Hey, I’m calling Isa when we get back, so two-drink pact’s still on, Haas,” Cory agrees, and Luca sees Leo roll his eyes next to him.

“Huh, is the old man over there actually right about Ottawa being boring as fuck?” Leo’s voice is mocking in that way it always is when he calls Ilya old on their calls, and Luca smacks him again. Asshole.

“Better be careful, Zicari,” Cory teases, eyes glittering with humor. “If Rozy hears you, he won’t let you hang out with Luca anymore. Then we’d be in an actual Romeo and Juliet situation.”

Both Luca and Leo give Cory the finger in unison, who just laughs in response before slipping away, walking towards another younger Boston player halfway across the room. Luca turns and steps away a bit, letting Leo’s arm fall off of him as he crosses his arms and looks at him.

“You know Shane’s older than Ilya, right?”

Leo downs the rest of his drink, and Luca does not look at his throat. “Nah, Ilya’s the old man. Shane’s…timeless.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

Luca’s cheeks spasm, holding back the smile that threatens to break on his face. He sees the way Leo’s eyes drop the slightest bit, before a wide smile spreads on his lips. And now there’s a liquid heat churning behind Luca’s ribs, something he could probably name if he wants to, but he exhales and disregards it. Just friends. They’re just friends.

It’s the thought that sticks in his mind for the rest of the night, as they eventually find their way back to where their teams are holding court, though a good chunk of them seem to be missing by that point. It’s the thought in his head as he accepts his second—and last—drink from Leo, when their fingers brush on the cup. As the night gets louder and hazy in the dim club lights, and he vaguely notes Leo’s hand grazing his side. As he leans his head against Leo’s shoulder for just a minute at some point, because he’s a little tipsy and a lot tired.

It’s the thought that he grasps with every working brain cell as the night starts to wind down, and people start to either leave or make plans to go elsewhere. It’s what he thinks about when they all finally make it outside and Leo asks him if he wants to head back to his to fully sober up, because he knows Luca’s wanted to finally see the mini bear figurine that Luca got him for Christmas in-person.

He almost says yes. He wants to say yes, maybe.

Just friends.

“Next time,” he says instead, nodding over to where Cory is trying to keep Jacob upright a few feet away. “Gotta get him back, I think.”

Leo looks at him for a moment, eyes roaming around his face in a way that makes the flush in Luca’s cheeks heat up further. “Okay, amo. Next time,” he agrees easily, even though they both know getting Jacob back to the hotel is not a two-person job.

He leans, hauling Luca forward into a hug, and Luca’s heart—stutters, restarts a beat later. The musky, woody scent of his cologne hits him, and Luca lets his arms wrap around Leo, pressing his face into his shoulder for a second longer than he maybe should.

Before pulling back, he schools his expression into something neutral, letting his features settle into the smile he knows he always seems to have on his face around Leo.

“Bye, Leo.”

There’s something in Leo’s eyes that he can’t read, though his lips tilt up into a soft smile.

“Bye, Luca.”

Winning is always heady, always feels a little intoxicating in a good way, and that usually ends up carrying over to when the team goes out after, but Luca hadn’t expected this.

Not the Cens and Bears out together at Monk’s after their game, because again, that’s pretty normal. Not Shane getting a little tipsier than he normally lets himself get, and basically sitting on Ilya’s lap, talking to Marlow and St. Simon, because even though that doesn’t happen all the time, it’s not that crazy.

No, this, being Luca getting totally and utterly wasted.

It’s not his thing, most of the time. But tonight, he hadn’t refused the shots Ilya had bought the team at the beginning of the night, and he hadn’t refused the ones that came after, either. He can just vaguely recall random flashes of the night so far: him and Leo with their arms intertwined around each other, taking a shot from the other’s glass while Cory takes a video of them; widely grinning with far too many teeth for various photos with various teammates and Bears; loudly booing along with Wyatt and Troy when Ilya kisses Shane with a little too much tongue.

He knows his limits—one long night spent hovering over a toilet seat in a hotel room was one too many—so he’s not going overboard, but Luca is, for all intents and purposes, plastered.

Does it have something to do with his nerves about tomorrow? Maybe. But, he reminds himself, it’s just a team barbecue, so it’ll be fine. Leo’s his friend, and that’s why he invited him to the barbecue, and everything will be completely fine.

Connor raises one of the shots, his brow raising along with it in question, and Luca grabs it. Barely waits for the cheers with the other rookies before downing it.

Yeah, it’ll all be fine.

“Luca.”

Hm, maybe everything won’t be fine, if the way that hearing his name from that voice makes him want to abruptly shove himself into the person who said it is to be trusted.

Luca tilts his head slightly, meeting the dark green eyes next to him. Lets his gaze lazily shift over the face attached to them. The little indent of a dimple on the right cheek. The hint of a crooked smirk on the lips. The fringe of dark hair, with the slightest bit of a curl.

“Leooo.”

The smirk turns into a broader grin, and all of a sudden, the sides of their bodies are pressed against each other, from shoulder to thigh. Fuck.

“You having fun?” Leo asks, and Luca nods, his eyes fluttering slightly as he does. “Good. Y’know, I think I take back what I said about Ottawa being boring. I was wrong.”

“Mhm, s’not boring,” he hums, blinking once, then again as he tries to get his eyes to focus on his best friend. Luca sits up straight suddenly at the thought, because he needs Leo to listen carefully. “Leo. Leo.”

“I’m right here, amo,” Leo says with a small laugh, and Luca stops slapping his shoulder.

“Listen. Listen, this is imp’rtant.” Luca turns his body towards him, placing both his hands on Leo’s shoulders as he leans in slightly. He thinks he might be hallucinating the way Leo stills for a moment, almost like he’s holding his breath, for some reason. The thought floats out of his mind before he can process it further. “Listen. Leo Zicari. You are,” he pauses, taking a second to push his glasses up so he can see Leo more clearly. “You’re my best friend.”

Leo’s face does…something. Luca doesn’t know what, exactly, and he can’t pull his neurons together at the moment to parse through it better. He lets his arms slide forward so that he’s basically leaning against him, his face planted sideways on Leo’s shoulder. Leo always smells so good, fuck. He moves one of his hands off of Leo’s back to pat his bicep a couple of times, because he needs to make sure Leo understands. “My best friend.”

Luca feels more than sees Leo’s exhale, his chest caving a little with the motion. “Yeah.” Leo’s voice is a low rumble against Luca’s ear. “You’re my best friend, too.”

Good. By the quiet laugh he hears from…somewhere, Luca might’ve said that out loud. Possibly.

“God, he’s so gone,” someone—Luca thinks it’s Connor—says with a giggle, and he feels a hand in his hair, lightly caressing the back of his head.

“Yeah, think he’s done for the night.” The snort feels loud against Luca’s chest, and he hums quietly, eyes drifting closed. He’s too comfortable not to, honestly. And he never wants to leave this—this cocoon of warmth that feels so good and smells so good.

“Hey, best friend, you got him?”

“Fuck off, Young.” A short pause, and Luca feels himself relax even deeper into the arms around him. “I got him, I’ll call an Uber.”

If Luca had been a little more sober at the moment, maybe he’d think about the way his team and friends trust Leo to get Luca home safely. Trust him to take care of him, even when Luca’s in the state he’s in. Trust him, because Luca trusts him.

(If Luca had been a lot more sober at the moment, maybe he’d think about if the same situation happened five years ago, with two other hockey rivals on different teams. Think about how the end result would not have been remotely close to this one. Think about how there is so much he has Ilya and Shane to thank for. Think about how fucking lucky he is, to be on the team he is on, at the time that he is.)

But then the minutes seem to fade and blur together, and what feels like all of a sudden, Luca is standing alone in his apartment kitchen, until hands grab onto his shoulders and guide him to sit on one of the barstools at his counter. The sounds of cupboards opening and closing drift in through one ear and out the other.

The alcohol is finally starting to dissipate bit by bit, and Luca exhales slowly, trying to get the room to stop spinning so fast. He drops his head into his hands and squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “Fuck.”

He hears a soft snicker and the voice that he knows so fucking well now, the one he clings to every second he can have it. “You finally sobering up?”

Luca groans, reaching for the glass of water that’s placed in front of him and gulping it down. “M’never drinking again.”

He leans back a little, meeting Leo’s eyes across from him. Leo’s leaning forward against the counter, his forearms lying flat on it, but all Luca can really focus on is how soft his hair looks in the dim kitchen light. He has a visceral urge to run his hands through it over and over and over, touch the softness of the strands himself until the feeling of them is imprinted into his palms.

“Yeah, right,” Leo says, with a tilt of his lips, and Luca finally concentrates on his face enough to see that while Leo is definitely a lot better than Luca at the moment, he’s not completely sober either. The faint glaze in his eyes makes them glitter when the light catches on them, and they’re just so pretty. Luca hates it and loves it at the same time. “You looked like you were having fun.”

“I did.” Because of you. Luca barely stops himself from saying that out loud. “Um. Did you? I’m sorry, for…y’know, you having to—”

“Luca,” Leo interrupts, his voice firm as he reaches over the counter to place a hand over Luca’s mouth to stop him. “First off, I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. And yes, of course I had fun.” Leo hesitates, something a little uncertain in his expression as his eyes bore into Luca’s. “I—I was with you.”

Luca stills. Blinks once, twice. Did that mean what he thinks it means? What he hopes it means? He tries to speak, but it’s muffled behind Leo’s hand, who doesn’t budge even when Luca tries to pull the hand away.

“No, wait.” Leo presses his hand down, and he can feel Leo’s pulse pick up from where his own hand is around his wrist. “M’not gonna say anything else, and neither are you. Not tonight. We’re both…not fully sober.” All things considered, Luca feels pretty fucking sober right now, but Leo keeps talking. “I want—”

Leo swallows, and Luca’s eyes drop to follow the motion of his throat with his gaze. Something in his gut stirs, then burns.

“Just, tomorrow. Is that okay?” He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Leo sound so unsure as he does at this moment, and Luca gathers every scrap of remaining courage in his body. Lets it build up, and then lets it subside gently. Because he gets it, knows what Leo’s asking for, silently. And he can give that to him, can wait a few hours for this. For Leo.

“Okay, tomorrow,” he agrees when Leo finally draws his hand away. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Leo’s expression relaxes, a hint of a smile curling on his lips. “You want me to go back to the hotel?”

Luca snorts, finally getting up from the stool. His kitchen is a little bit of a mess and the jacket he had on is somewhere on the floor on the path from the front door to the kitchen, but he doesn’t care at the moment. He’ll worry about it in the morning.

All he cares about right now is grabbing Leo’s hand and dragging him to his room. Leo lets himself be guided, and his hand in Luca’s feels…right. Good. So good.

They brush their teeth, Luca tossing a spare toothbrush to Leo, and there’s something so domestic about it. Even without having the conversation yet, Luca knows that this is something. To him, to Leo, to them. Their arms brush in front of the sink, and the small, mirrored grins on both of their faces at the brief touch makes Luca slightly giddy. It feels like pieces of a puzzle slotting together at last, the final click of the last one completing the picture.

He wants to feel like this all the time.

“I’m taking the right side,” Leo declares when they eventually make it to the bed in the center of his room, and Luca shoves him away lightly before he can collapse on top of it, taking his glasses off to place them carefully on the nightstand. Leo stumbles slightly but catches himself with an exhaled laugh.

“Fuck off, that’s my side.”

But before Leo crosses the bed, he reaches towards the nightstand and taps the little wooden centaur figurine once, twice, and three times, with the tip of his index finger. Luca’s face melts into a soft smile when he realizes. He knows the superstition is public knowledge now, after he’d brought it up in the Cens on Cens video, but seeing Leo do a version of it, with Luca’s actual centaur, standing in his actual bedroom is…a whole different thing. The flutters of want, want, want rumble in his chest again as his gaze tracks Leo. A low pulse of an ache he knows has been present for longer than he’d admit out loud.

By the time both of them finally settle in, though, Luca’s been hit by three waves of exhaustion, and his eyes are fluttering shut every few seconds. But he’s still awake when Leo speaks into the quiet room, the darkness around them providing a safe cover. There’s something almost a little dreamlike about it, and Luca lets the shadowy, warm ambiance seep into every crevice of his body, dragging him further and further down into sleep.

“Can I ask you something?”

Luca lets out a small hum of assent, still slightly dazed.

“Do you actually have blackmail on all the Cens?”

His eyes open as soon as the question processes in his brain, a soft snort escaping his throat as he tilts his head over to meet Leo’s eyes. His dimple moves with his smirk, and Luca halfheartedly lifts his hand to lightly slap Leo’s stomach. It backfires when Leo immediately moves to intertwine their fingers and squeezes, and Luca feels his ears heat up in response.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. M’not telling you.”

“Lucaaa,” Leo whines, and Luca rolls onto his side swiftly, placing his other hand on Leo’s mouth, a reversal of the moment in his kitchen ten minutes ago.

“Shh,” Luca drones out in an almost-whisper, grazing his thumb lightly over Leo’s cheek. “Go to sleep. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Bu—”

“Shh.”

Luca feels the mock glare Leo aims at him, and his lips twitch, though he says nothing.

He doesn’t know when exactly he falls asleep, or when Leo does, but when they wake up the next morning to Luca’s alarm—a siren-like sound that has the Italian whining a shut up under his breath—they are much closer than they had been last night. As the proximity fully registers, Luca stills for approximately half a second before sinking back into it.

Because Leo’s arm is draped over him, back to chest, and all Luca can really think about in his half-awake state is how warm he is. How comfortable he is. How he’s imagined waking up like this before, but it hadn’t even come close to the actual thing. He can feel the slow rhythm of Leo’s breath on the short hairs at the nape of his neck, the heated weight of his palm right below Luca’s pec, the press of their thighs under the covers. It’s all too much and not enough and Luca wants to move away and never wants it to end and, and—

“T’rn it off,” Leo groans, dragging out the last word in a low, raspy voice that sends a shiver down Luca’s spine. But he shoves it—and the rest of his spiraling thoughts—out of his mind for the moment, shifting slightly to reach forward and haphazardly tap on his phone until the noise stops. “Finally,” the man behind him sighs out, the arm around him tightening just a little as he lets out a quiet hum that Luca can feel vibrating against his back. “Not time to wake up yet.”

Luca can’t even argue, his eyelids already drooping down as he shuffles back into Leo.

The second time they wake up, it’s from Luca’s phone ringing. Loudly.

“H’llo?” Luca mumbles, his phone only half pressed against his ear. He doesn’t know the last time he’d slept this good, so good that he still feels trapped in some kind of haze as he tries booting up his brain to actually listen to the voice coming from the other end of the call. Leo’s fingers slowly grazing up and down his ribs is not helping in the least.

“—uca. Luca!”

Shit. He shakes his head slightly to feel at least a little more awake enough to process Cory’s words. “S’rry, wait, what?”

There’s a pause, then a loud snort. “Man, did you just wake up?”

Luca hums in answer, trying his best to ignore the way Leo seems to be doing his best to imitate an octopus, all his limbs surrounding Luca’s as he lets out a soft sigh. “What d’you want?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re alive after last night.” Luca can almost hear the smirk in Cory’s voice. “And still coming to the barbecue. And still bringing a particular rival of yours that took you home.”

Isabelle’s quiet laugh rings out in the back, and Luca wants to hang up. He, however, has manners and doesn’t do that.

“I’m alive.” He feels a muffled snort on the skin of his nape. “And it’s fucking—” Luca pulls his phone back to read the time, his eyes rolling when he does. “Eight in the morning, Young. Zane said twelve.”

“So, you’re good?”

“Yes.”

“And Zicari is…also good?”

Fuck his life. “Cory. Do you want me to show Shane the pictures of the teddy bear you still have in your childhood room that you named after him?”

Cory squawks loudly, and Luca can feel Leo’s body shaking next to him with controlled laughs. The grin on his own face spreads at the rushed words coming from his friend over the phone.

“What the fucking fuck? Why does my mom keep sending you this shit, I swear to god, Luca—”

“See you at the barbecue, Cory,” Luca cuts him off with a small smirk, because he knows this rant will keep going for minutes if he doesn’t.

A sigh echoes in his ear. “You and your blackmail spy network,” Cory gripes under his breath, and it sets Leo off in another silent fit of laughter. “Fuck you actually. See you later.”

He finally hangs up, and Luca tosses his phone on the bed, and lets the tender sensation in his chest spread as Leo stops holding back his glee out loud.

“Guess that answers my question from last night, amo,” Leo finally says in between snickering, before pulling at his shoulder until Luca’s back lies flat on the bed and then abruptly rolling over him.

Forearms land on either side of his head, and Luca does not notice the way they flex. The way Leo’s biceps bulge, and the way the tattoo on his right arm moves along with it. (He wants to lick it. Bite it, maybe, and then trace the whole thing with his tongue.) Does not notice how they are pressed from chest down to thigh. Does not notice the way everything suddenly feels heavier, weighed down with a tension Luca knows so well by now but isn’t exactly sure how to navigate really, as Leo’s eyes pierce his own.

“So, we’re both sober.”

The pressure of the moment breaks, and Luca’s lips curl up just a bit. Leo’s eyes glitter with amusement, as if he’d known it would. Because this is still Leo. His best friend, the one who probably knows him the best out of everyone. The one who he knows the best, too. The one who Luca can spend hours and hours talking with, and spend hours after that not saying a word, just silently taking comfort in each other’s presence over the phone. The one who’d been the person he’d called when, on the day of his papa’s birthday, he desperately needed to talk to someone before he broke down in a random bathroom at the rink. The one who had called him, when Leo had gone through an unfortunate slump of terrible games a couple months ago, and needed someone to talk him down from the immense expectations he’d been placing on himself.

It had been a shift so subtle, that Luca had barely noticed it until it slammed into his face all at once, honestly. Leo had been his best friend for a while, and he still is. He’s just also the first person Luca wants to tell everything and anything to. The person who makes him laugh the most, with his cocky attitude and dumb jokes. They’ve been this…LeoandLuca thing for a while now, he thinks. And now, all Luca wants to do is dive headfirst into everything that that means.

“We are,” he nods, letting a tiny smile tug at his lips as he looks up at Leo. The man on top of him shifts slightly to rub a thumb over Luca’s left cheekbone, drawing out a flush. “You gonna kiss me now?”

Leo startles a bit, like he hadn’t been expecting that. To be fair, Luca’s not sure he’d been expecting those words to come out of his mouth either. But Leo on top of him, with the sunlight hitting his hair at just the right angle, with it illuminating every slant and curve of the face he knows like the back of his hand, with one of his hands tangled up in Luca’s hair, well—well, Luca couldn’t have stopped it even if he’d wanted to.

“You want me to?” His voice is low, a little dark, and something in Luca’s stomach clenches.

And, well. They’ve got all morning to talk about this, about them. They’ve got time. So much more time than Luca had ever imagined they would have.

So, he does what he’s wanted to do for months: wraps an arm around Leo’s neck and pulls him down, crashing their lips together.

Cause, well, they’ve got time.

Walking into Bood’s backyard with Leo right behind him to find that nearly the whole team got there before them is a little alarming. Luca’s used to being on the earlier side to most team events, but somehow, even Ilya and Shane—who are notoriously always late to things like this—are already here, Ilya goofing off with Cliff and Zane by the grill, and Shane sitting on one of the couches, chatting with Selena, Cassie, Harris, and Troy.

“Haasy!” Wyatt calls out when he notices them, his eyes flickering to Leo for just a second before his lips twitch slightly. “And Zicari! You guys finally made it.”

“Hey, hey, go easy on Haas,” Evan cuts in, leaning down to ruffle Luca’s hair as he and Leo make their way over to the group, both of them settling down on the other end of the sofa with Camille and Connor. “Kid’s probably still hungover.”

Luca flips him off as Leo adjusts next to him, their arms pressing together. “Not a kid,” he mutters, catching the brief look Ilya and Cliff exchange. Part of him feels a little smug, knowing they’re all waiting to see something during the barbecue. Ever since he’d revealed that Leo’s going to be here today, he’s noticed the drastic increase in whispers around him, especially when he’s on his phone. This team loves to pretend that they’re inconspicuous, but Luca is well-aware of the bet they have going on. Has even seen the spreadsheet of it, when Cory had left his phone lying unlocked one day, like an idiot.

And so, yes, he’s a little smug about it. Smug about the fact that his boyfriend—and it’s still exciting, to say that word, even if it’s just in his head—is sitting next to him at this team barbecue, and none of them have a clue.

“Ah, but you are baby, Haasy,” Ilya calls out, a smirk on his face as he walks over to where Shane is, dropping down next to him and throwing an arm over his shoulders. It speaks to how much has changed over the last year, the way Shane doesn’t even hesitate in leaning towards his husband. Luca remembers the first team hangout, after Shane had just joined the Cens. Remembers the awkwardness and tension he’d carried around, like he’d been scared to even acknowledge that Ilya and him were together. He knows some things about Shane’s former team, though none of the details, but it had been so clear in the way Shane held himself. Walked around like he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop the whole time, like if he’d slipped up even a little, everything would go wrong. Watching Shane slowly open up, slowly integrate into their team dynamic after everything he’d been through, had been so gratifying to watch for Luca. And he knows it means a lot to Ilya, too, noticing the way something fond crosses over the captain’s expression when Shane shifts closer to him now.

“We all know you’re an old man, Rozanov,” Leo pipes up, and Luca tilts his head back onto the sofa, holding back a groan. This is not going to go well and they’ve only been here for five minutes. He mumbles a low Leo, but the man ignores him. “Everyone’s a baby to you.”

The backyard erupts into loud laughs and snickers from players and partners alike, even Shane letting a small grin spread on his face. Ilya, to no one’s surprise and least of all Luca’s, immediately sits up straight, eyes narrowing at Leo.

“Marly,” Ilya starts, still half glaring at Leo, who takes it in stride with a wide grin. If Luca is honest, smiling in the face of Ilya Rozanov’s anger directed right at him is…kind of hot. “I thought I said to teach your rookie some respect.”

Shane leans in to whisper something in Ilya’s ear with a small smirk, making Ilya flick his arm, while Cliff lets out a snort when he hears his former teammate’s statement.

“Oh, he has respect, Roz.” There’s a slight suggestive tone in his voice, and that’s when Luca immediately knows that the next words out of Cliff’s mouth are going to make this worse. “Z calls Hollander timeless all the time.”

Jacob lets out a high-pitched shriek of laughter, the other rookies following suit. Even Isa and Camille, who seem to have been caught up on all the drama by either their gossipy boyfriends or the WAGs chat, seem highly amused. Leo, for his part, simply shrugs, nonchalant in that way of his that always gets to Luca, for some reason.

Shane’s cheeks are tinted pink at the attention, though he keeps his hand wrapped around Ilya’s wrist. Luca is pretty sure it’s to keep the captain from doing something insane, with how Ilya’s eyes had darkened just a bit. And he knows that this is all just everyone joking around for the most part, but, well. It’s a well-known fact to the team by now that Ilya’s always been a little crazy when it comes to Shane. Catastrophically down bad, according to one of the comments on their socials.

“Hey, Young,” Nick shouts over all the chaos, giggling before he even gets the words out. “Looks like you’ve got competition as Holzy’s biggest fan.”

“I am my husband’s biggest fan,” Ilya grunts out before Cory can say anything, and it sends the rest of the team into another fit of snickers. Luca is immensely glad they’re not playing the ‘my husband’ drinking game today, because he really doesn’t think he can handle getting wasted two days in a row. “Zicari, you are banned. Door is over there. Bye bye.”

Luca nudges closer to Leo at that, who bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his smile. “No, he’s not.”

“Betrayed by own son,” Ilya whines, dramatically placing his hands over his heart like he got hit. Shane rolls his eyes from next to him. “Haasy, how could you?”

He just lets a grin pull at his lips with a small shrug as the laughter finally settles down and the conversation breaks, everyone slowly going back to what they were doing before they’d entered.

“Is it always this chaotic here?” Leo murmurs to him as his gaze roams around, placing his arm on the back of the sofa behind Luca. It brings him the tiniest bit closer, and the proximity in the warm, spring air suddenly makes Luca want to drag Leo inside and into one of the bathrooms. His boyfriend had used his body wash and shampoo this morning, and the combination of them with Leo’s cologne and natural scent is…intoxicating. He wants to bury his face into Leo’s neck and stay there until the party is over, truthfully.

“Always,” he finally responds, swallowing to push away the thoughts running through his head. He feels the weight of wandering eyes on him that he dutifully disregards for the moment. “Honestly, I think they’re toning it down a little today.”

Leo’s brows rise with a mouthed wow, and Luca lets himself sink back into his seat, and into his boyfriend. As the minutes slip by, and they’re eventually pulled into a discussion with Connor, Wyatt, and Lisa about some DC movie that Luca has yet to watch but Leo went and watched on release day, Luca is once again reminded of how lucky he is. To be on this team, to be able to call them his friends, his family. To know that they’ll support him no matter what. To have met Leo at all, to be able to call him his best friend, his boyfriend.

The afternoon continues leisurely, with food and desserts and Selena’s scones that disappear in approximately two and a half minutes. Leo honest-to-god moans when he tries one—something that makes Luca very glad that he has a plate on his lap—and immediately asks Selena if she’s looking to adopt, clasping his hands together and putting on a puppy-dog expression. Selena just laughs, but Nick squints over at Leo with a I’m watching you motion.

“Are you trying to annoy all of them on purpose?” Luca questions after Leo charms the hell out of Caitlin, seeing the way Evan mock-glares over at him.

“What do you mean, amo?” Leo fires back, the pet name catching the attention of several people close to them. His boyfriend lowers his voice so no one besides Luca can hear him. “I’m just getting to know all the WAGs. Y’know, now that I’m one, too.”

And that…is something that Luca hadn’t considered. Oh, fuck.

But then Leo lifts a brow, leaning slightly closer, and Luca can see the question in his eyes. Can tell that Leo just got an idea about how to tell everybody about them. In the most unhinged way possible. And, well, Luca honestly can’t say he never enjoys the chaos. Can’t say he doesn’t enjoy being a little menace, sometimes.

He nods imperceptively, his lips pressed together to hold back a smile, and Leo lights up, before he schools his lips into a wicked smirk. And Luca can do nothing but brace himself for everything that’s going to go down for the next half an hour.

“Hey, Rozanov?”

Ilya looks up from where he’s holding court with some of the other WAGs by the firepit. When he realizes who called out to him, though, he crosses his arms with an annoyed expression. The volume of the rest of the backyard goes down, because apparently no one on this team can mind their own business.

“What do you want now, Zicari?”

Leo’s cheeks twitch. “Heard you’re in the WAGs chat,” his boyfriend says, then pouts dramatically, his lower lip jutting out. “Why haven’t I gotten my invite yet?”

There’s a moment of absolute silence. Luca basks in the calm before the storm.

“Luca Haas!” Cory shouts, as the dots start connecting in everyone’s minds. Luca lets out a poorly concealed laugh, finally shuffling closer and closer to Leo like he’s wanted to since they’d arrived. His shoulder jammed up against Leo’s upper side, his thigh fully pressed into Leo’s now.

Connor looks particularly betrayed. “Man, how come you didn’t tell us?” The exaggerated whine in his voice makes it obvious he’s not actually mad, but Luca throws him an exasperated look.

“You didn’t win the bet, Bergy.”

That sets off another round of shrieks from around the backyard, and Leo just snorts, the sound vibrating against his arm. Everyone is still talking over each other and Luca barely hears what any of them are saying, but Zane finally whistles loudly, once, and it settles a little.

“You knew?” Zane asks when it’s quiet enough, and Luca crosses his arms as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yes.” He sends a pointed look Cory’s way. “The next time you have a bet about someone, maybe don’t leave the spreadsheet with all of the odds open on your phone when you leave the room.”

Leo barks out a laugh at that, as do Ilya, Cliff, and some of the other vets.

“Wait, wait, I want to know who won the bet, but can we go back to them for a second?” Evan gestures over to him and Leo. “Are you guys, like…together?”

Luca exhales out a, “Yes,” right as Leo leans back just enough to place a hand on Luca’s cheek and turns his face towards his. He gives Luca a split-second to stop him, and when he doesn’t, he kisses him.

For a moment, Luca forgets where they are, forgets the rest of his team and that they’re most definitely watching this, forgets that this is only going to lead to more teasing eventually. His world narrows to Leo’s lips and the weight of his hand and the taste of his tongue and—

“Hey!” There’s a loud clap, and Luca jerks backwards, breaking the kiss. Leo’s eyes open slowly, and they’re glittering with humor and also something a little darker. He fights the urge to kiss him again. “There are children present,” Troy continues, brow lifting, and Luca flushes red. He also wants to point out that they’ve all seen and heard things a hundred times worse, mostly because of Ilya and Shane, but Leo speaks up before he gets the chance.

“You get your answer?” Leo asks casually, apparently with no shame running through his body at all. “Shane,” he adds after a second, and Luca wants to giggle at how different his voice sounds from when he’d talked to Ilya earlier with just that one word. “Could you please add me to the WAGs chat? I know you’re in there, too.”

Shane, for his part, ignores the amused glances between Leo and himself coming from everyone else. Ilya, who’d somehow migrated even closer to his husband, has Shane’s legs pulled over one of his thighs, and is scowling at Leo. “Yes.” His gaze darts from Leo to a quick side-glance at Ilya, before his lips spasm slightly. And Luca knows that look far too well, after sharing a locker room with both of them for almost a whole season now. “Luca, you can send me his number, I’ll add him.”

“Damn, Z, you’re finally gonna get your childhood crush’s number,” Cliff hoots, much to everyone’s amusement. Ilya turns his dirty look from Leo to Cliff, who just smirks at his friend. “How’s it feel, rook?”

“I will kick him out of the chat,” Ilya mutters darkly, before adding something in Russian, and Shane’s grin finally breaks out on his face, whispering something back in Russian to his husband. Luca’s been around them for a while now, and honestly, he still doesn’t understand their foreplay. But what he does understand, after all this time, is that this is foreplay.

“Feels great, Marly,” Leo quips back, not paying any attention to what Ilya had said, and Luca burrows his face in his shoulder to groan. “Who won the Bears’ bet?”

Wyatt cackles, turning to the Boston team’s captain. “You guys had one too?”

“Of course, bro,” Cliff proclaims, leaning forward against the chair that Cory and Isa are sharing. “And pretty sure I did.” His smirk grows wider. “I’m just so perceptive.”

“Wait, who won ours?” Jacob asks, turning to Harris, who’s already grabbing his phone from the table in front of him.

It takes a few moments for Harris to pull it up, and Leo checks in with a quiet you good murmured in his ear, and Luca just nods. He’d known this was going to take over the barbecue whenever they ended up telling them, but he also knows that his team isn’t going to push on anything that would genuinely make them uncomfortable. And right now, he’s just…content, to be here with Leo next to him, watching as his professional hockey team tries to figure out who won the bet about him and his rival getting together. It’s all a little funny, if he thinks about it. He wonders what Luca from five years ago would think about it, if he could tell him.

“Oh, wow,” Harris finally says in disbelief, and Troy, who’d been leaning over to peer at his phone along with him, breathes out a short laugh. Harris’s eyes flicker up to where Shane and Ilya are, slightly wide. “Shane won. He had it correct to the date.”

Protests and wild accusations fly from the other players. “The fuck, how’d you know?” Nick demands, and Shane just lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, a serene expression on his face.

“He knows only because I tell him everything me and Cliff talk about,” Ilya says in a disgruntled tone, and Shane flicks the side of his head.

“We made these bets months ago, asshole.” The extremely smug look on Shane’s face is one Luca’s gotten more and more used to after he became a Centaur, because as it turns out, the best hockey player in the world is not simply just a polite Canadian like his reputation insists he is. Especially when it comes to Ilya. “Just admit that I won.”

Luca notices most of the WAGs roll their eyes, amused, before slowly starting to slink away into the house. He can only imagine the bickering they deal with in their chat with these two, and honestly, he’s a little glad he’s not part of it. But Luca absolutely knows that Leo’s going to have a lot of fun with it.

Ilya’s pout suddenly morphs into a mischievous smirk, and he leers at Shane. “No, I win, because my very sexy husband has my jersey number tattooed on him.”

A collection of fuck off’s, not again’s and loud groans bursts from the group, and Luca is well-aware of where this is going next. Because the team has not let this go from the moment Shane had walked into the locker room the day after filming his Cens on Cens video covered in teeth marks and bruises. Luca hadn’t been able to look him in the eye the whole practice without blushing, while the rest of the team alternated between teasingly chirping Ilya and asking about—

“Where is this tattoo anyway?”

Shane glares at Zane, who lifts his hands in surrender, still smiling. “Fuck off.”

“Nah, it’s gotta be somewhere crazy,” Evan states, taking a swig of his beer. “Remember the locker room?”

Ilya’s smirk somehow turns even cockier, though it falters the slightest bit when he sees Shane’s face. Luca sees the way the captain taps his husband’s shoulder, and the brief silent conversation they have. And he ponders what that’s like, to be able to communicate like that, a secret conversation in a room full of people. There’s some hushed Russian exchanged, before Ilya’s expression transforms back into a crooked smile and Shane tilts into his husband’s body with a calm look on his own face.

The rest of the team had still been speculating the whole time, with Leo enthusiastically joining in too. Luca turns his head a little, tracing his eyes over his boyfriend’s side-profile. The cut of his jaw, the angle of his nose, the flutter of his lashes against his cheeks. He can’t help himself, really, as he leans in and presses his lips to Leo’s jaw in a quick kiss. From his position, Luca has a clear view of the way the tips of Leo’s ears turn pink, and he gives into the urge to scoot down on the sofa enough to lay his head on Leo’s shoulder. Leo’s arm pulls him closer, and Luca is a little amazed at just how…normal this all feels. No one is looking at them like they’re being weird; honestly, after they’d gotten over the shock of the two of them actually being together, it feels like everything’s just back to how it’s always been.

“We’ll figure it out someday, man,” Wyatt says to Ilya, whose eyes just twinkle a little. “But enough about the tattoo. I have something more important to ask.”

Both Ilya and Shane’s brows rise, as they exchange a short look. Wyatt waves them off, rolling his eyes.

“Not about you.” Wyatt turns to Leo, eyes narrowing slightly. “Now that you’re with Haas and not just pining from afar—” Multiple people around them snort out laughs at that. “—are you still down to do the comic trivia video idea?”

Cliff snickers before Leo can say anything. “Hazy, he’s such a nerd.” Leo lifts his hand off of Luca to flip his captain off, though it does nothing to deter him. “Haasy, man, props to you for listening to all his rants on your calls.”

“And you know that because…”

“Cause I’m the one stuck sharing a room with him for our roadies,” Cliff gripes to Troy, though the smile on his face gives away that he’s not actually annoyed. “All the FaceTimes I’ve had to sit th—”

“One, fuck you,” Leo interjects, and Luca grins into his shoulder. “Luca loves my rants. And two,” he continues, turning his attention to Wyatt, “Obviously, yes.”

The conversation devolves from there into Wyatt excitingly rambling about the set-up he’s done for his new series, and while Luca is nowhere near as knowledgeable about all of this as Wyatt or Leo, he can admit that it’ll be fun. Even if it is just him watching Leo demolish everyone else in both the comic trivia and the Ikea building.

Ilya cuts in to brag that he would one hundred percent beat Shane, who immediately sits up to argue about it. And from there, well, it’s business as usual, he thinks.

As the afternoon fades into the evening, Luca takes it all in, for a moment.

And honestly, he’s never been happier.