Chapter 3
Finn wasn't worried about any of that right now, he was just building a little bit of tension for his joke.
"—a cunty little bitch." Finn finished, dryly.
Grant choked, eyes flitting to Orlov like he might hit Finn and Grant was going to have to step in.
Maksim was glaring with the full strength of his scary hockey face, but Finn wasn't worried.
He hadn't miscalculated.
Maksim's face broke slowly, and he hid his giant, relief filled grin behind his hand first, then peeled out into real laughter that echoed around the ballroom.
Finn chanced a glance at Grant too, pleased to see he was also grinning.
He'd probably wanted to call Maksim Orlov a little bitch his whole career.
Orlov 0—Adler 2, Finn thought smugly.
Grant looked at him, not the for first time, like Finn was the most fascinating creature he had ever seen.
When the night was finally over, Maksim turned to them in the coat line, smiling more brightly than Finn had considered possible for his sour little face.
"Goodnight, Whitmore, have a good retirement.
Goodnight Finn, I hope he leaves you everything in the will."
"Bye, Orlov." Grant said
"Bye, bitch," Finn said, smiling.
Maksim smiled right back.
Poppers<!
Finn didn't think about Maksim Orlov too much after that.
He had made Grant confess to having suspicions that Maksim wasn't straight, and he did confirm that Finn was right, told him a story about a whispered room number, muffled sounds, and a years later fight with Cole Weatherly that basically confirmed it.
("Why didn't you tell me!
This is like the point of boyfriends, so you can tell me delicious work gossip."
"Well I didn't know for SURE, and I don't make a habit of like, outting people.
"What else did you need to confirm it, to watch them blow one another on the ice?
For him to blow you?"
"Actually one time I did see them at the end of a hallway and it seemed like--"
"Oh my GOD!" )
But still, Finn didn't think about him much unless they are watching Arden v. Harrington on TV and he's grinning knowingly at Grant when they watch the face off.
Which is he was so stunned that Grant was trying to hand him the phone with Maksim on the other line.
They had been watching Endwell lose, no shock there, and Finn had gotten up to get ready for work while Grant watched the press coverage.
Then Grant was answering a phone call with just "What do you want?"
Finn was looking for a pair of clean socks.
He hated doing laundry.
He considered stealing Grants, but his feet smelled so bad even his clean socks were funky.
Good thing he was so handsome.
"Yeah, I'm watching."
Finn was fixing his hair in the mirror.
It looked better these days, he would have to thank Thea for recommending that salon, now that he could almost sort-of afford it.
"What?
So what?" and then, "No, it looked normal to me."Finn padded his way back out to the living room to watch whatever had gotten Grant so upset.
"Orlov, what are you playing at here?"
Finn blinked at him, surprised.
He didn't even know Grant had Maksim Orlov's number.
He would have suggested they fuck with him more, if he had.
"...yeah he is?" Grant was saying, looking directly at Finn.
Then he covered the mouth piece of the phone.
"Uh, do you wanna talk to Maksim Orlov?
He's being... weird."
Even without the phone being on speaker, Finn could hear Orlov yelling on the line.
"Please, Finn!"
He took Grant's phone, not over the weirdness of all this.
"Uh, hi?"
"Hello, Finn.
Were you watching the Endwell game?"
"Yeah, they lost, big shocker."
Were you watching the press, did you see—were you watching when—"
"I didn't see the press, no."
"Can you rewind on your TV?
Can you go back to uh, 45:17?"
Finn rewound.
They were interviewing the winning team, Grandview, and they had a fresh faced new rookie who played left wing on press.
Grant had been following him, but the general consensus was that he was a couple years out from being truly great.
Next to him was a fucking huge defensemen whose name Finn didn't know, but when he sat down he accidentally sent the kid tumbling out of his chair and onto the ground.
And out of his pocket rolled two tiny bottles, red and yellow, and oh my god
"No fucking way." Finn gasped out loud, pausing the screen.
Poppers.
The kid had dropped poppers.
He had to stop one from rolling out into the press with his shoe.
Maksim was wheezing laughing, "It is not funny, but it is so—"
"Why bring them to the press interview, why..."
"He's like 19, he's too dumb to be trusted with pockets."
On screen the kid was turning bright red, but trying to act normal, cool.
Finn wondered if he played this straight enough if no one would notice, at least not right away.
He scooped up the bottle and shoved it back into his pocket.
He had to stand to chase the other.
"Oh my god poor baby, it's not even a good brand."
"Can someone fill me in, please?" Grant was asking, annoyed.
Finn hit speaker phone on Grant's phone, so they could both talk to Maksim.
Finn paused the screen again, pointed.
Grant looked confused.
"He dropped poppers ."
Grant's face was showing 0% recognition.
"What are poppers?"
"For fucks sake Whitmore," came Orlov's voice from the phone, "What is the point of you if you don't know anything, they should send you to a class—"
Finn put the phone down, telling Maksim to hang on, and tried his best not to look too gleeful after a kid dropped something that could out himself of national tv.
"Ok, it's not funny, it's not.
That bottle is uh... actually I don't know exactly what the liquid is.
They have a liquid in them, and when you inhale the gas they put off they have drug effect.
It doesn't last long, but famously it relaxes your muscles, especially sphincters you know like... for sex...
I'm not going to sugar coat it:
I've never seen anyone do poppers who wasn't a gay guy about to get railed.
There could be other reasons, of course, that I don't know about.
I'm not like, a big drug guy.
But I'll say this: gay guys do a lot of poppers."
Grant blinked, looking more concerned by the minute.
"So drugs, like, illegal drugs?
Why wouldn't they stop the press conference right away?"
Finn shook his head, "They're legal, so the kid shouldn't be in any like, real trouble.
You can buy them in like every bodega, they just are sold as something else.
Leather deodorizer, that kind of thing."
"Nail polish remover,"came Maksim's voice tinily from the phone.
Finn picked the phone back up, scrambling.
"Do you think they'll notice, say something?
I mean it's all hockey guys in there, would they even know?
Grant didn't know."
Grant folded his arms on the couch, looking cranky and left out.
Finn patted him on the shoulder.
"Mm, yeah but the press...
I would guess someone in the press would know.
Maybe today he gets lucky two ways, I don't know." Maksim replied.
The press conference was seeming to play out normally, even when Finn sFinnped ahead, returning to the live broadcast.
"I think my agent knows some of the reporters, I'll tell him to see what he hears.
Maybe no story," Maksim said, "Uh, but maybe you should get the rookie's number, Whitmore.
Since you are Captain Gay Hockey."
"I'm not captain gay hockey ," Grant scoffed, "but I'll see what I can do, I don't want him to feel all alone if this does out him.
And maybe he should be more careful, if it doesn't."
"Mm, not stuff his pockets with the drug everyone thinks makes you gay right before a press conference?
Maybe!" Maksim's voice chimed happily from the phone.
"You wanna tell us why you're so acquainted with Rush that you can identify it in 780p, Maksim?"
I have so much leather to deodorize, Finn Adler.
So many sports cars, you know."
Grant and Finn rolled their eyes at each other, but they took his point.
In the end, Maksim's agent and Grant had been able to work behind the scenes to convince everyone it was a non-story and no one asked the rookie why he was carrying so much nail polish remover that day.
If he had to guess, that's when Finn would say he and Maksim Orlov started being friends.