Archive of Our Own ^beta

To the public eye, there may not have been a lot to celebrate, but the team had just won a game with a few days of rest ahead of them, and Brady was quite content with that.

Josh had somehow convinced him hitting the pub was a good idea perhaps by asking way too many times. He had exasperated him enough to force Brady out of his comfortable spot on the sofa.

"Why do I have to ask the team if it's your idea?"

"'Cause you're persuasive, and you scored tonight, so technically we owe you one."

"I don't think that's how it-"

"Come on! It will be fun. Think of it as a team bonding experience."

Brady had so desperately wanted to reply that disappointments and losses had already brought the team close enough, but he had managed to hold his tongue and just roll his eyes instead.

Brady had shot a quick text to the group chat, not forgetting to underline that the idea had been Josh's - he wasn't taking any blame when someone ended up way too drunk, or hurt, or arrested.

After receiving the first affirmative replies, Brady sent a last text prohibiting team wear - the less attention, the better - before throwing his phone on the couch and checking on his other flatmate's intentions on the night. Perhaps the only plans he truly cared about - no offense meant to the others.

He had found Tim chatting with Josh in the kitchen.

"Drake is asking me if you're coming. Are you? 'Cause he said he'll try to persuade you if you say no."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll come," Tim was shaking his head as he replied to his obnoxious friend.

Brady had sighed to himself, listening to his roommates' chat. At least that was solved.

They had chosen the same place as they always did. It was nice, drinks were good, and the owner knew them enough to let a dozen of guys in without any complaint.

It wasn't fully packed, but it was somehow crowded, and Brady couldn't say he was ecstatic about it. Josh, on the other hand, was beaming, and his excitement was almost contagious - almost.

Tim looked a bit more nervous than he had been at home. And Brady would have known. He had glanced over at him an embarrassing amount of times.

He was wearing a tight black sweater, one he had not seen on him yet, and black jeans, which made it very hard for Brady not to stare.

Who knew total black could look so endearing.

Brady, on the contrary, felt out of place. Not that the other guys were doing any better fashion-wise, but, for whatever reason, he felt as if his dark blue hoodie was making him look like a fool. And maybe he was one when he felt like he had to be dressed a certain way to even deserve being seen beside his teammate.

It was stupid, it was spoiling everything, and Brady was aware he couldn't have let the self-doubt and self-deprecation rot him further.

The guys all rushed to the counter, all except his two roommates. Always by his side. Brady smiled wholeheartedly at the thought.
The small white sofa sitting behind his back honestly looked more appealing than any drink. Was he getting old? Tim sat with him, and Josh still lingered in front of them. Perhaps not.

"You guys want anything?" Drake walked up to them. "Wait, Jimmy, are you even old enough to drink?"

"Let the poor guy have fun," Josh chipped in. "Like we didn't do a lot of underage illicit consumption of alcoholic beverages back in our days."

"Are you already drunk?" Brady laughed out.

"What are you, fifty?" Drake joined Brady, equally as amused.

"Don't worry, guys. I can actually drink."

Josh let out an excited shout. While Batherson just repeated his previous question with a smile which Brady despised for a few seconds - before coming to his senses and mentally slapping his forehead.

"A Tequila Sunrise, thank you."

Josh and Drake looked at each other before shrugging and heading off.

"Obviously, he likes sweet drinks. What was it? 'You are what you drink'?"

"It's 'you are what you eat', you idiot."

Brady couldn't help but share a laugh with a confused Tim next to him as they heard the distancing conversation.

"You're not drinking?"

"Nah. Maybe later. I don't really feel like it right now."

"What?" Tim chuckled. "It's not as exciting now that it's not illegal?"

Brady laughed. "Maybe."

I just don't want to make myself a fool in front of you and confess. 'Cause, I do get like that.

"I think I just need to alleviate a bit of tension."

"That's totally fair. I would too, but I feel very relaxed already." Brady half-lied, trying to convince his friend - or maybe himself - by sinking lower in the sofa, putting his hands behind his head, and extending his legs.

He looked at Tim, who gifted him one of his signature smiles, one of those Brady would have given up anything and everything to see every day.

But, of course, nothing ever went his way.

"Jim, I have news for you, mein Bruder."

"Do I wanna know?" Tim chuckled at Josh, who had made his way back with a glass in his hand.

"You see the two girls sitting over there?"

"Yes?"

"They just asked Charlie who we were."

At Tim's confused expression, Brady added in, "Charlie's the owner, that one guy at the counter." He then turned to Josh again, "And? They're probably intimidated by a dozen six-foot-tall dudes coming into a bar at night."

"That's where you're wrong. They asked specifically for two of us. Guess who?" Josh was grinning from ear to ear. "This guy," he said, pointing at himself. "And Jimmy Boy here."

Brady tried not to show any hint of disappointment on his face.
Disappointment that went way beyond some random girls not liking him enough - he couldn't even blame them when his roommates were so attractive.

His disappointment went on a completely opposite path, and it may - or may have not - involved the German boy sitting next to him.
Brady was already angsty enough, and he definitely could have gone without having to see him flirt with someone else.

"Didn't you like a girl already? The one you showed me, like, last week?"

"Well, I like a lot of things, Brady." Josh turned his attention to a flushed Tim.

"I don't know, I-"

"Think about it, buddy." Josh was about to leave before turning his feet again. "Oh, I almost forgot. This is yours."

Tim thanked him and tried his drink, which by his pleased expression, Brady assumed he must have liked.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"I'm good, Josh."

Brady watched his roommate strut away, shaking his head in disbelief.
"He's such an idiot with girls sometimes."

"And you're a gentleman?"

"Well, considering I just came out of a 3-year relationship, yeah. I think I can qualify as one."

When his friend made a surprised face, Brady realized he had never mentioned his break-up. It never occurred to him that he actually had to say it out loud.

He thought that his bad mood had given it away. Or that one time his friends had caught him with blood-shot eyes might have been a good enough clue.

He remembered very little of that night. He had called Matthew and Taryn and had a good cry with them. He loved his job, and he loved living with his teammates, but in moments like that, he missed being home with his family.

Josh had found him first if he remembered correctly. He had just wanted to ask what Brady wanted for dinner. Not like he would have ever thought he'd have to hug and rub the back of Brady Tkachuk. Ridiculously outgoing and jokester Brady Tkachuk.

Tim had found them like that.

He never asked what was wrong, Brady realized as he recalled the situation. He had let Josh past to go figure out their dinner and had kneeled on Brady's bed with him. He had let him rest his head on his shoulder and calmed his shivers with a kiss on his temple.

Brady thought that no matter how painful that night had been, he would have given anything to relive that moment. He would have sunk even further in his arms and memorized every facet, every detail of the embrace.

He resurfaced from his thoughts, glanced at the center of said thoughts, and found him fiddling with his fingers. It was something he did when he was upset or anxious. A bad game for Tim meant bleeding cuticles.

"Is everything alright?"

"I-" Tim sighed. "It's just that I don't- I am not interested."

"Don't worry about it. You don't have to prove anything if that's what you're bothered about."

"Yeah."

Brady noticed Tim had already half-emptied the glass.

"Not cute enough for your refined taste?"

"Idiot." Tim laughed. "That's not it."

"Then what? You prefer blondes?"

"Maybe I do. Who knows." Tim was looking at him straight in the eyes.

Brady wasn't born yesterday, he knew Tim was teasing him, and he was dying to kiss his smirk off his face.

"Maybe I just have other preferences."

At that, Brady's eyes widened, though, not too visibly. He forced on himself that little auto control he possessed in order not to look too surprised - or pleased.

"Josh will be ecstatic. More girls for him tonight."

Tim laughed and emptied the remains of the glass in front of him.

"What about you? Are you not going to talk to them? I think they'd like you."

Brady chuckled, "Nah. Don't think they would. Not a lot of people like me, anyway."

"That's not true. I like you. Everyone here likes you."

"Yeah, but you're my friends and teammates, so it doesn't count. You're kinda obligated to like me."

Tim just shook his head as he smiled and got up. "I need another drink. If you want anything, tell me."

"Thanks."

Brady was outright confused. He wasn't just being delusional. That counted as flirting, right?

He was sure he was neither drunk nor high, and the pain in his chest confirmed he was awake, too. Very awake. Actually, the most lucid he had been in a long time.

He watched Tim reach the counter and offer him a smile as he ordered. A jolt ran down his back. Pleasant jolt, which quickly dissipated as he saw the two girls Josh had talked about, approach him.

Somehow even with the chaos and the music echoing in the bar, Brady could hear him.
Somehow, he could hear him laugh and flirt and make the girls laugh as well.
Somehow Brady was shaking from the sight.

It must have been a new superpower.

Tim was confident, and they were all laughing together, and Brady had rarely felt so incredibly jealous.

Maybe he had been delusional, after all.

And he was staring. He knew.
He was aware, but he couldn't find in himself the strength to care. He felt as if he had lost every inch of dignity - or at least, the little he had possessed to begin with.

But he had done nothing wrong. He had never confessed. He hadn't even said a word back to Tim about the allusion he had made.
Yet, letting that little drop of hope nourish a love he had deemed impossible months before had singlehandedly destroyed any self-confidence he had gained during the night.

But if there was one thing Brady did well - besides playing hockey - it was jumping to conclusions.

Tim leaned in to whisper something into one of the girls' ears, offered both of them a drink, got one for himself, and waved to them as he got up to leave.

As he was making his way back, he stopped halfway to meet with Josh. He leaned in to whisper something to him as well, shared a laugh with his wide-eyed friend, and finally joined Brady on the couch.

"So, Romeo? How did it go?" Brady hoped he hadn't sounded too petty.

"Well, I told them I am not free, but Josh is. And I may have sprinkled some interesting additions."

Brady wanted to slap himself. He just stared at Tim with wide eyes instead. "For example?"

"Like, he's the next one in line to be the captain of our team or something like that. Oh, and that he scored tonight."

"Wow," Brady snickered. "Be careful, or all these lies will crack your halo."

Tim furrowed his brows, smile stamped on his lips. "I am not that innocent."

"Well, Britney, you do look very innocent."

Tim snickered at the reference but asked, still confused, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, don't worry. Keep drinking your sugary drink, big boy."

"It's good! Want to try?"

Tim leaned into him to offer his drink, but Brady would have preferred to taste it on his lips instead.

"Guys!"

Their heads rapidly snapped to the side to find everyone around them beaming with excitement.

"What's happening?" Tim asked with a mildly terrified expression.

"You'll never guess!"

"That's right, I won't. Spill it, Batherson."

"It's karaoke night."

"Oh God," Brady groaned while Tim just started laughing.
He then turned to Joey, "I am giving you 20 bucks if you get Josh drunk enough to sing."

"Deal."

"You think you can do any better, Tkachuk?"

"I am not falling for your tricks, Norris."

"Wait, Brady, you're not down?" Thomas asked a bit incredulously.

"Nah, you kids have fun."

"Ha!" Josh pointed at him. "I knew you didn't sing."

"And how did you know exactly?"

"I've heard you in the shower."

Brady raised both of his eyebrows. "Oh, have you really?"

Josh stuttered, "Well, no, but you look like someone who doesn't know how to sing."

"Should I be insulted? Is this a thrown glove or something?"

"Surely Brady Tkachuk would never back down from a fight, would he?"

"I told you already. I am not falling for your cheap tricks."

Another voice piped in the conversation.
"It could be fun?"

And those kind blue eyes could have asked him anything. So he gave in.

"Fine, if y'all insist." At everyone cheering, he replied, pointing to Josh, "But you go first."

"Fine," Josh scoffed, "Chabby? You're up?"

"You guys are dueting?" Drake asked, amused, as he sat next to Tim on the white sofa.

"This is going to be interesting," Tim spoke, his German accent thicker than ever. It only happened whenever he was tired or, apparently, Brady noted, tipsy too.

"Interesting is an understatement."

It was a simple phrase, but it made Tim chuckle, and Brady feel like the funniest person on the planet.

The guy at the karaoke setup Brady couldn't recognize. He introduced the first two volunteers, though Brady would have used a different term - victims, maybe - and asked them to choose a track.

And, of course, out of all songs they could have chosen, said victims would be singing Total Eclipse Of The Heart.

They wouldn't dare.

Brady let out a snort when he heard the first notes of the familiar tune.
Apparently, they did dare.

Thomas and Josh were not songbirds. Actually, they were so bad, Brady thought it should have been illegal for them to even attempt singing in his presence ever again. He was going to get a restraining order for their vocal cords.

Maybe he was the real victim, after all.

He could hear from his right ear Tim and Drake laugh at their friend's performance.
And he tried his best to wipe away any inch of terrible feelings in his heart. Instead, he focused on Tim's laugh, which could lit up even his darkest days.

Brady blinked a few times and focused again on Josh's terrible screech of a voice.

Bad idea. He thought, chuckling to himself. Josh never failed to crack him up.

Turn around, bright eyes
Turn around, bright eyes
Turn around

Torture was over, but it also was, unfortunately, time for Brady to lose all his dignity and self-respect.

He saw everyone laugh and clap at his teammates, jogged to the counter, ordered three shots of jägermeister, and downed them in a couple of breaths.

"They don't call it liquid courage for nothing."

"Shut it, Norris. Now go before I change my mind."

Josh raised his arms and joined a now alone Tim.
The others were still by the stage, cheering, probably waiting for a remake of the performance they had just assisted.

Brady was almost sad to disappoint them.
He chose the song with the weird dude at the console and got his microphone. Let the show begin.

He didn't know why he chose the song. He saw it, and it screamed to him. It was that type of instinct thing he still didn't know how to explain. He had never been the brightest at using words, after all.
It was the gut feeling he got the first time Tim stepped in his - their apartment.

Everything brought Brady back to him.

Oh baby, oh man
You're making me crazy, really driving me mad

The first few seconds were terrifying. Watching-a-rival's-breakaway-from-the-bench terrifying. Brady had sung quite enough times to know that sometimes voices just didn't want to cooperate. But after the first lines, as he got the hang of it and the shakiness slowly started to dissipate, he could even let himself be entertained by everyone's eyes widening.

That's all right with me. It's really no fuss
As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

His voice was lower and smoother than anyone expected. It caused shocked expressions and his teammates looking at each other in a pleasant surprise. Brady was always loud and whiney, always cracking jokes with a rough voice and a hearty laugh. But Brady could also apparently sing his heart out.

Oh brother, sweetheart
I'm feeling so tired, really falling apart

Matthew knew - somehow.
"You're gonna be captain one day, and you know that. Don't do anything you'll regret. Team comes first."

Brady's infuriated liver had wanted to reply, to yell at his brother, and to hang up. But in his tortured heart, he knew that his brother was right, that he couldn't screw up his chances, and that he couldn't screw up Tim's chances neither.

"Don't you think Tim should have a say in this as well?" Bless his little sister. Taryn always knew what to say. It was like talking to a mother without the painful generational gap.

But what did Tim want?

And it just don't make sense to me. I really don't know
Why you stick right next to me wherever I go

He had tried to forget him. Granted, it was hard when they lived and worked together. It was also tough when Tim laid on the couch with his head on his lap, scrolling through Instagram, laughing, and showing him memes. Brady wasn't sure when exactly he lost his mind for the boy, probably between one "that's you" and the other.

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

Tim was looking at him, staring right at his soul. Brady had never felt as powerful and vulnerable at the same time. He was offering all of his heart, all of his love to someone.
It was just them in that crowded, blue-lit bar. No teammates, no games, no brothers, no responsibility.
Just Brady with his heart on his sleeve, watching Tim's slightly gaped lips, dying to kiss them.

And I'm down on my hands and knees
Begging you please, baby, show me your world

Brady's ears were ringing by the end of the song.

As soon as he gave back the microphone, Drake and Thomas attacked him with compliments, and the others just screamed and clapped.
Actually, everyone in the room was clapping - everyone but one.

He looked dumbfounded.
And Brady was right.

Tim was disoriented, paralyzed. Trying to make sense of everything.
He could feel Josh staring at him, but he never turned to look back at him until he heard him speak.

"Wow, I really am an idiot."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"What? Don't tell me you don't get it."

"I-"

"He just serenaded you a fucking love song." At Tim's unresponsiveness, he added, laughing, "Go before I go! And I don't even like him like that."

But Brady missed the whole conversation, the wide eyes, and the tiny smirk that Tim gave back to his roommate, as he got distracted by a couple of girls making their compliments to his singing voice.

It was nice, but Brady couldn't find it in him to care too much. His head was still slightly hazy, slowly coming back to his senses. He had done it. Confessed in his own messed up way. And by the look on Tim's face during the song, he had definitely gotten the message.

He didn't know what he had expected. A scene where he ran towards Brady with open arms and said I love you back?
His life wasn't a cliché movie.

"Brady, I need to talk to you."

Okay, maybe it was a scene straight out of a tragedy.

"Not now." He tried playing it cool, tilting his head towards the girls that had approached him.

"Yes, now." Tim grabbed his wrist. "Come on."

Or a comedy.

"Sorry ladies, I gotta go."
Brady let himself be carried, trying not to show too much amusement.

He could just feel Tim's rolling eyes.

"Hey, wait." Brady planted his feet. "Your jacket. It's cold outside." He grabbed it from the white couch and handed it to him. The tiny smile he received back was enough thanks in Brady's book.

They stood in the middle of the sidewalk alone, both shaking. But Brady couldn't distinguish if it was because of the cold or his stomach-eating nervousness. It was a talk neither of them was prepared to have.

"Am I getting something that's not there, or?"

Brady chose not to speak. He just raised his eyebrows. If Tim wanted a confession - a worded one, at least - he was going to have to work for it.

"You were looking at me."

"Well, you're not bad to look at."

"You like me."

Brady's breath hitched. The boy was perceptive, after all.

"Or am I getting it wrong?" His nail was working restlessly against the skin of his thumb. "I mean, right now, I think I am getting mixed signals."

"I just sang you a love song. How is that a mixed signal?"
He didn't know why he sounded so annoyed, even to himself. Perhaps it was to defend himself from whatever Tim was about to say. But Brady could feel the heat radiating from Tim's cheeks, and, somehow, the sight cooled down his own.

"It's just that I saw you-" Tim glanced at the glass, looking at the few strangers that had wanted to congratulate him after the song. It had been nice for his ego - not that he thought his already-big head needed any more inflation.

"What?" Brady chuckled. "Are you jealous or something?"

Tim was biting the inside of his mouth, and excitement rose in Brady's stomach.

"Wait-" He couldn't contain his grin. "You actually are?"

"Maybe." Tim shyly looked up to him and smiled back, though a bit less proudly.

"Idiot. I am a flirt. I am just like that. I don't actually care."

Tim never kept back what he thought. He was blunt, and it made Brady's spine shiver. "So you do like me?"

Brady chuckled once again, looking up at the stars in the sky. His thoughts sidetracked to the Ottawa sky for a second. "So fucking much."

"Do you care that we are here?" Tim sounded rushy, impatient.

Brady looked around. "You mean if people see us?"

Tim nodded. "Do you care? Because I couldn't care less."

Brady choked out a laugh. "I think you've known me quite enough to know I never give a shit about people seeing me act a fool." His eyes finally traveled back to meet his teammate's.
There it was again, his heart on his sleeve. Brady couldn't help it. "And if I have to be a fool in love, I am not stepping down. I would just pick you up and-"

"Why don't you do it then?"

Brady laughed at his provocation. "Mostly because you are six foot tall. And I need you to be all in one piece to play on Tuesday, so-"

Tim chuckled. "Do you need to talk much more? Or do I have to shut you up?"

Brady grinned, pressed his lips together, and dragged his fingers over them as if he was zipping them up.

Tim stepped closer, reached for Brady's lips with his hand, and did the same to him but in the opposite way. And Brady's bottom lip immediately fell in surprise, as if Tim had actually unzipped it.

He just stood there in awe of his teammate, in awe of his courage, in awe of the look he was receiving back.

But Tim didn't stop there. The dream kept going. He carefully took his chin with two of his fingers and made him lean down to meet his own parted lips.

He kissed fiercely. He kissed proudly. Tim kissed like he wasn't scared of anything in the world.

While Brady, on the other hand, was terrified.
Terrified of the consequences of everything, of the possibility of Tim kissing him out of pity, out of drunk-exhilaration.

Thoughts swirled aggressively in his mind. Yet, he could pay attention to nothing his brain was saying, not when his heart was making so much noise in his ears. Not when his face was on fire where Tim's hands laid, where he gripped at Brady's cheeks.

But then, when they broke the kiss and looked at each other, Brady's doubt quieted down, and the echo of his brother in his head finally shut up.

Before any of them could speak, their attention was grabbed by the inside of the bar.

"What the-"

The team was banging on the glass, clapping, cheering, making so much noise, the two of them could hear from outside.

Tim let out a giggle as he wrapped his arms around Brady's neck and burying his head in the crook of his neck.
Brady could tell he was blushing furiously, trying to hide himself from the others. So he let him be and rested his cheek on Tim's head, still looking at his friends from inside the place with an unsweepable smile on his lips.

"They seem happy."

"I am so happy," Tim murmured with his lips against Brady's jacket collar.

And that's all that matters. Brady tightened the grip on him and left a kiss on his temple.
"Me too."

Brady was about to close his eyes and savor the moment, but the cheering and the yelling from his teammates became louder and louder.

"Group hug!"

And before Brady could protest, he and Tim were stuck surrounded by their cheerful, screaming, annoying but loveable teammates.

"Well, fuck," Josh complained, "I knew I should have listened to my mom and taken up those singing lessons."

"Shut up, you idiot."
Everyone laughed, but Brady had barely heard Thomas's reply.

He could only think about the two palms he felt pressing against his shoulder blades and the sound of Tim's giggling at his friends. And the difference the embrace carried from the one that painful night on his bed.
He thought about how he could eventually memorize everything from his scent to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Because he finally would have the time to, and his heart already felt healed enough.
He would remember what having him between his arms felt like. Maybe forever - or maybe Brady was getting carried away - but the thought excited him and forced a stupidly bright smile out of him.

And, in the middle of everything, in the middle of the chaos of his friends and his own thoughts, he chuckled to himself, thinking - a bit hurt in his pride - of how Josh had been right all along.
Going out had definitely been a good idea.