Chapter Text
February 2014
When he had arrived home to his empty condo after getting off the plane from Russia he barely had enough energy to make it to his bed before he collapsed. The timezone switch and over stimulation from the closing ceremonies had drained every bit of him, leaving him a ghost of himself. Even though he had slept for most of the second connecting flight, his body was still recovering from the highs and lows of it all. The excitement had been some of the biggest of his career; playing in the Olympic gold medal hockey game. Leaving with the silver had been heartbreaking. But as he stood on the ice and heard the Canadian national anthem instead of his own country’s, he realized that wasn’t the worst heartbreak he’d lived through – even this year. And so when he boarded the plane home he had already begun to work out a plan. A plan to change his life, to finally have a life. With Kip.
Scott woke to blaring brightness; a bluebird sky day in late February, at nearly noon – he never slept that late, but hadn’t set an alarm in his exhausted haze yesterday. He dragged himself out of bed, the only sound in his oversized condo was the pad of his bare feet on the tiles of the bathroom floor as he made his way to the shower. After he was dressed and made coffee, he ordered lunch and then a car to take him to Brooklyn.
He hadn't meant to do this so late in the day, just show up in the late-afternoon on a Tuesday, but he had slept so late from the jetlag. He hoped Kip might still keep his regular schedule and be done with work by now, since he used to start so early in the morning. It would have been better to do this on the weekend, but Scott did not want to wait any longer. They'd used to spend Sunday afternoons together. Usually after a Saturday night game he and Kip would keep each other up way too late and then luxuriate in each other all morning. Scott's mind vacillated between those fond memories and an aching fear that Kip was now cosy in someone else's bed on Sundays instead. He almost asked the driver to turn around and return him home twice, reasoning he could just text Kip instead. But then the thought of giving up again forced the words back down his throat.
When the car pulled up outside the narrow two story townhouse Scott could feel his blood rushing through his ears. His heartbeat was so loud it nearly dulled the sounds of the neighbourhood as he made his way up the porch steps and knocked quickly on the door. He forced himself not to glance up and down the street to see who might see him. He had to let some of this relentless fear go, just a little. He thought back to what Carter had said in that coffee shop in Sochi. He needed to be brave.
The door opened after only a short pause, and Scott stood staring nervously at a man he presumed was Kip's father.
“Hi. Uh … is Kip here?”
The man narrowed his eyes at him, but the friendly smile remained on his face, even as he appraised Scott. He stepped to the side and allowed Scott to step into the front hall and out of the February chill.
“Is he expecting you?” He asked in an even tone. Scott couldn't tell if he was being wary or curious with this question. Scott wouldn't blame him if he was just being protective of his son. Scott wanted to do everything in his power to protect Kip, so obviously his dad would feel the same, especially with everything wonderful Kip had told Scott about his loving, supportive father.
“No, he's definitely not expecting me to be here, to be honest.”
“Well I'm sure he won't be upset you're here. I'll let him know.” He said, and then turned and made his way up the creaky stairs.
“I'm Scott, by the way,” he called after him.
“Oh, I know,” the man chuckled back.
Scott winced. Of course Kip’s dad knew who he was – the man was a hockey fan, so likely spent the last three weeks watching as many Olympic match-ups as possible, especially the team USA ones. And, as team captain Scott had spent almost all of Sunday after the loss answering questions from the disappointed American press core members. It felt like You don’t win a silver, you lose the gold, was permanently etched into his frontal lobe at this point. Scott felt very good at losing things these past few weeks.
Kip was just getting dressed when his dad knocked on his bedroom door. He had spent the day sleeping late and then lounging in sweats, thoroughly enjoying his new shifted schedule after leaving his job at Staw+Berry and becoming a server at the Kingfisher. Late nights were much more enjoyable than commuting to Mid-town before dawn; the tips were better too. Now he was in faded jeans and a tight t-shirt as he prepared for his evening shift.
“Kip? You have a … visitor.” His dad’s voice came through the door as he pulled a dark green sweater over his head.
“Like, here?” He questioned as he opened the door.
“It’s uh … Scott.” His dad said quietly, the sympathy in his eyes held nothing back.
Kip scrunched his brows in confusion, “What …?”
“Maybe he’s here to apologize. Work things out?” His father almost sounded hopeful, and Kip motioned him into his bedroom, closing the door partially to prevent sound from floating down the stairs.
“What do you mean, work things out?” Kip asked with a slight panic in his voice. How did his dad know there was anything to be worked out?
His dad let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head slightly. “You think I couldn’t put it together, Kip?”
“Put what together?” Kip played dumb to hear his dad out.
“You come home one day bragging that Scott Hunter came in for smoothie, and you start watching every Admirals game, going to games with Elena. Then all of a sudden you’re staying in the city with some mystery man and loads of excuses of why you’re not around ever; and Scott Hunter is playing the best hockey of his career. Then you come home more upset than I’ve ever seen you since your mother died and Hunter’s game is back down the tubes.”
Well then. At least it was only this obvious because his dad had an insider's perspective.
“I …” Kip tried, but his dad just held up a stopping hand and gave him a warm smile.
“Why don’t you hear the man out … he looks really … Well… Like he needs to talk to you really badly.”
Kip forced himself to look his dad in the eye, and then found himself wrapped in the man’s firm, comforting embrace.
“I can tell him to go, if that’s what you want.” His dad said as he let him go.
Kip wiped the tears from his eyes and shook his head. “No. I should talk to him. It’s not like things ended on a terrible note. Just … I don’t know.”
His father’s expression had turned back to one of sympathy and then he stepped out of the way to let Kip out of the small bedroom towards the stairs.
As soon as Kip hit the top step he could see Scott staring up at him, still waiting in the claustrophobic front hallway. Kip tried to keep his expression neutral, but he felt himself hiding his smile. Scott looked like shit. But so good at the same time. He had shaved, the play-off style beard he’d let go untamed for the Olympics suddenly gone. Symbolizing a fresh start maybe?
“Hi,” Kip said in a near whisper, like Scott might scare off easily. He watched Scott’s face brighten at the sound of greeting.
“Hi,” he answered, and Kip caught the crack in his voice. “Can we talk?”
Kip let the smile break free, as he met Scott at the bottom of the stairs. He grasped his wrist and led him into the den.
They sat at opposite ends of the small, worn sofa, both sinking into the old cushions and then turning slightly to see the other's face. Kip waited a beat, wanting to give Scott a chance to collect his thoughts about whatever this conversation was supposed to be. But it was torture to watch the man he still desperately loved clearly struggle with the battle inside his head.
“I know I fucked it all up. I know I’m all fucked up,” Scott started.
“You’re not f-”
“I am. Don’t humour me,” Scott interrupted
Kip just sighed. Did Scott just come here to malign himself?
“You’ve had a rough few weeks. I know that even though you just accomplished something huge at the international level, something only a small fraction of people will ever achieve – you feel like a complete failure because a handful of guys did slightly better.” Kip reached and took Scott’s closest hand. “You did amazing. I wish you weren’t so damn hard on yourself.”
He watched as Scott scrubbed his free hand over his face, and then stared at the floor between his spread feet.
“I didn’t come here for a pep-talk. That’s not what this is.”
“So what did you come here for?” Kip asked cautiously, squeezing Scott’s hand slightly until he drew his gaze back to his own.
“Because I need you.”
Kip felt the familiar stab of pain in his chest. It felt so good and so bad all at once. How can they be back here again?
“And I need to be brave.” Scott continued. Kip almost choked as the breath whooshed out him. Scott’s eyes were so pleading, and sheened with tears. He turned to fully face him and took Kip’s other hand in both of his, leaning his forehead against his.
“Please let me try. Again.”
Kip felt his resolve crumble. Scott being in his house, his touch, and his words making all their problems melt away. He pushed his mouth into Scott’s, kissing him greedily and feeling the tug of his hand on his neck.
When they finally broke apart, he was panting slightly. Breathless from the kiss, and the sudden rush of thoughts. They sat in silence for a long moment, meeting each other's gaze, but eyes darting away when the intensity overwhelmed.
He finally gave in, needing something, anything from Scott to move past a joyous kiss on his father's sofa.
“What does that mean? You trying again?” Kip asked carefully.
Scott let out a breath, and Kip watched him gathering his thoughts. He knew this man so well, he could see him trying to dial back what he would claim was a statement that was ‘too intense’.
“I uh … I know I'm not ready to come out like … publically. I can't promise you that.” Scott replied, his eyes glued to the carpet. “But I don't want you to have to lie to your family, your friends.”
“Well, my dad knows now … so that's a lot of that covered.” Kip said with a smirk. “But I didn't tell him,” he added quickly.
“I suppose me showing up at your house in a desperate attempt to win you back gave it away,” Scott chuckled.
Kip shook his head with a smile, “it was actually my sudden interest in hockey and you not playing like shit that gave us away.”
Scott smiled and slid back over to Kip's end of the sofa, pulling his legs onto his lap.
“Your dad seems like a really great guy.” He said, and then he tugged Kip into his lips for a tender kiss. His thumb stroked across his cheek and Kip suddenly couldn't remember the other discussion points he was supposed to bring up to figure out if he and Scott could really make things work. Lucky for him, Scott apparently had a plan to present in order to really make it better between them.
“I know you are out, and have this wonderful community around you. And so I know that I can trust them, your friends, with knowing who I really am.”
“Scott Hunter, the guy who used to buy smoothies from me?” Kip said teasingly.
“Scott from Rochester who is so fucking in love with you.” Scott replied in a husky whisper. “I mean it Kip. I want to do this with you. For you.”
Kip felt his smile fade a little bit. “Please don't do this for me, Scott. I don't want you to come out for me. It has to be for you. What you want for your life.”
The room fell into silence again. Scott searched his eyes for an answer.
“Can it be for both of us?” He asked quietly. “I know if I hadn't met you I would have lived in my loneliness until I retired at least. Maybe forever because I would have missed my chance to have you. But now … I know there is something better and I want to have it with you, Kip. But I need to take it one step at a time.”
Kip could feel Scott fingers nervously picking at that fabric of his jeans, his legs still slung over Scott's thighs. He leaned his head on Scott's shoulder and sighed, running a hand through Scott's hair.
“I would never give you a time limit for this kind of thing Scott. You know that.”
“I know. You never did, and never would. And that's why I don't feel like I even deserve a second chance. But I miss you so fucking much.”
Kip could hear the tears in Scott's voice. “I didn't think I could be brave enough to do this … what I need to do. But all the things I could lose if I come out … it's nothing compared to losing you. Please give me the chance to try again.”
Kip wrapped his arms around Scott, holding him as tight as he could. To tell him he would be safe with him, they would be safe now, together.
“I can't pretend to know what kind of impact this could have on your career. But I will be here for you, whatever happens.” He said when he finally pulled back a little.
“I don't want you to have to hide. I don't want us to hide. And we won't. Your dad can know, your friends can know. I will not make you choose between your family and me. I just need time for my life … my other life. To tell my hockey family too.”
Kip nodded again, knowing that some semblance of a plan was all he should ever expect from Scott, and it’s all he would ever need in truth.
“I love you, Scott.” He said as he pulled himself to straddle his boyfriend’s lap, cradling his face. “I’ll be there to support you whatever your next step will be.”
Scott smiled and then turned his face to kiss Kip’s palm. “I love you too.”
They kissed for a long time, Kip grinding down into Scott’s lap until the bulge in his pants was painful against the fly of his jeans.
The sound of his dad thumping down the stairs broke them apart, the pair nearly giggling with the joy of the moment.
“Kip?” Dad called from the hallway, “Sorry to interrupt but I gotta get dinner started if you don’t want to be late for work.”
Kip smirked, his dad was clearly trying to avoid the room where he was making out with his boyfriend as if they were teenagers.
“Thanks Dad,” he called as he climbed off Scott’s lap and both men adjusted themselves to a reasonably decent state. Kip checked his watch and realized he was going to be late if he didn’t eat soon. “We’re good.” He said to his dad as he headed in the direction of the stairs.
“I know we’ve met, but it's really great to meet you.” Scott said as he offered his hand to shake Kip’s father’s. “I’m Kip’s boyfriend.”
Scott’s eyes darted between Kip’s and Dad’s. Scott couldn’t help but blush when he saw how much Kip’s face brightened at the word ‘boyfriend’.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Dad asked.
“Uh sure, if there is enough.” Scott accepted the offer gladly.
“Of course.” Dad replied as he made his way to the kitchen, “it’s just pasta tonight.”
“Perfect!” Scott called back as he wrapped his arms around Kip to give him one more kiss in the hallway before they joined his Dad in the kitchen.