Chapter 1
"Soren, Jesus," Bram said, throwing his arms around him the moment the door shut behind him.
"How are you?
I wanted to call but—"
"No - I...
It's okay.
He's okay." The words sounded hollow, and Bram led him to the bed.
It was obvious Soren had been crying.
Maybe he'd only just stopped, had only held the tears back long enough to answer the door when Bram had knocked.
It was jarring, the emptiness on Soren's face.
He'd never been the most expressive guy, guarding his emotions behind about eight hundred walls, but he'd never been this shut off.
Bram had been out for the game in Garland, but had joined them the next day in Orchard Bay.
Immediately upon his arrival, Bram beelined to Soren's room, desperate to see his best friend after the numerous headlines he'd seen.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got the news, stupid fucking Achilles tendon, it always fucks everything up.
This is, like, the third time it's made me miss something super important.
I'm so sorry.
How are you?"
"I'm..." Soren said, trailing off.
Then he shrugged, letting his arms fall back to his side.
Not for the first time, Bram wished he could read Soren's mind.
For a decade, it had been an ongoing battle, getting Soren to share how he was feeling, to open up about whatever was going on in his mind.
He ached with the desire for it sometimes, ached with the longing to be able to reach into Soren's mind and help him untangle the wires in there.
"Zev thinks he's straight," Soren finally said, which was... decidedly
what Bram had been anticipating.
"Uh," Soren started.
"Zev
- he came by yesterday, and told me he knew I had a crush on Vadim, and that it was rough, because he's straight.
He thought that's why I was so... fucked up about it." With a humorless laugh, Soren hid his face in his hands.
"A
crush
, Bram.
What the fuck?
He thinks I'm some... pathetic gay guy with an unrequited crush.
It's - we're not - I'm...
god
, we're in
I love him so much, and nobody fucking knows.
I'm going to fucking marry him, and one of my closest friends thinks I've been pining after him helplessly for god only knows how long.
And for what?
For
, Bram?"
"I don't—"
"He could've died.
He almost did.
He fucking texted me his last words and, what?
I was just going to have to come here and play Orchard Bay and hide the fact that I've lost the most important person in my life?"
For a brief, guilt-inducing moment, Bram felt a little bit hurt by that, which wasn't fair.
Nola was the most important person in
his
life.
It just... still blindsided him that Tolstoy was to Soren what Nola was to him.
"I couldn't have done it.
I couldn't have.
I would've crumbled completely and told the whole world that it was because I lost him, and it would've been too late.
It was almost too fucking late."
"It wasn't too late, Soren," Bram said, feeling that Soren may have needed the reminder.
"He's okay."
"But he almost wasn't!" Bram flinched at the volume, just a bit.
Soren rarely yelled and had never raised his voice at Bram.
"He almost fucking wasn't, Bram.
And my life would've meant nothing.
It would've meant nothing.
I would've died with him, and every stupid trophy I'd ever won would've meant nothing.
I'm tired of it.
I'm done, Bram.
Done waiting for the hockey world to be ready for us.
Maybe they never will be.
I don't care.
I'm - I don't know..."
Soren sniffled, swiping at his cheeks.
"I'm going to propose." That was...
also
not what Bram had been anticipating.
"As soon as we get home, I'm driving to his house and I'm proposing.
I don't care what happens next.
I don't
what happens next.
I just know I'm going to propose.
I can't waste another second not knowing that he knows what he means to me."
"Okay," Bram said, even though this all felt a little bit like a fever dream.
Soren was going to get fucking married?
To
Vadim Tolstoy
Was it the right thing to do?
Was Bram supposed to be talking him out of this?
He wouldn't talk him out of this.
Soren had looked broken when he opened the door to him.
He looked shaken to the core.
As if the very ground that had always kept him steady had been scooped from beneath him.
He looked - as much as Bram hated to admit this - about like he would probably look if it had been Nola on that plane.
Yeah.
What can I do to help?"
"You want to help?"
"I... look, I might not
get it
," Bram said.
"But you're my best friend.
If you're going to propose to somebody, I'm gonna fuckin' help."
For a beat, Soren was quiet.
Then, in the blink of an eye, Bram was wrapped up in Soren's strong arms.
Wordlessly, he hugged Soren back, grateful to be able to provide even the tiniest bit of comfort.
"What do I do?" Soren asked, sounding more vulnerable than Bram had maybe ever heard him.
"Let's start with getting you back to Hartsford as soon as we can.
We'll talk to the coach.
Get you on an early plane, maybe.
Say it's an urgent matter with the foundation, something with the plane, and donors being worried?
You can fly out first thing tomorrow morning instead of later in the afternoon."
"Right, yeah.
Good idea."
"And you need a ring."
"I... might've been looking at some when you got here.
I found a place that can get one to my house by tomorrow morning."
Dude, let me see!"
Finally,
finally
, Soren cracked a smile.
A small one, quiet and fragile, but there.
"Yeah?
I'm not, like, I don't know, being ridiculous?"
Bram saw the question for what it was - an out.
Bram
could
very well express that, yeah, he kinda thought Soren was being ridiculous.
But, also, love was pretty ridiculous.
How could Bram try to talk him out of the first thing that brought a smile to his face?