Chapter Text
Harris Drover never had nightmares.
At least not recently.
Because, besides work deadlines and the occasions Ilya decided to post on Twitter, there wasn’t really much in his life to stress about.
Well… there was the big National Unity Project that he and a couple of other Canadian NHL social teams were working on. It was a lot of work and would require a lot of overtime once they got to the editing stages, especially because the Centaurs didn’t exactly have a huge social media team. It was just Harris, Gen, and a couple of interns at this point.
At any rate, besides that, Harris had a wonderful family, a couple of cute dogs at home, and Troy.
God… Troy. He was so simple and silly and gorgeous. The other day he tried to make an apple souffle and somehow burnt the bottom of Harris’s very small oven. He had looked so ashamed when Harris went to investigate the burning smell, flashing him big blue “I’m so sorry” eyes and a little pout.
Harris loved him so much. They were about to hit three months and honestly he could not have been happier with how things were going. They were able to keep their work-life separate and professional (for the most part) for the sake of Harris keeping his job.
Harris made sure Troy wasn’t getting any extra press or anything because he was his boyfriend of (did he mention ???) almost three months. Although if he snuck in an extra Troy Barrett GIF covered in those early 2000s style sparkles and hearts, no one would be the wiser.
Except maybe Gen. Gen could sniff out his bias from a thousand kilometers away.
Or Ilya, who for some reason kept track of who was posted the most. It was important to “keep things fair Harris!” even though Ilya’s “fair” meant more posts of Chiron than the players themselves.
But anyways, like he said, things were going well in Harris’s life. He and Troy were planning a trip to New York, for Harris’s first time, and they were also just about to close on a house in the countryside. It was big and beautiful, gated and private, with lots of natural light and a lawn large enough where Chiron could run and play freely. He still got shivers of excitement thinking about how that house was probably where he and Troy would settle down, raise five dogs, and live happily ever after.
Good Lord, he needed to calm down a bit. Three months Harris. It’s only been three months.
As much as Harris tried to be an optimist, sometimes he had to be real with himself. There was always the chance that it wouldn’t work out and he didn’t want Troy Barrett to be the person to completely tank him emotionally. But then again, who better to be the subject of a completely self destructive post-breakup spiral if not one of the prettiest hockey players in the League?
So maybe Harris had some things to worry about. Nothing crazy, just normal run of the mill stuff. Regular work assignments on top of a big national project that was a big national deal, a kind of expensive trip to plan, the possibility of closing on a house with your famous hockey player boyfriend only for said hockey player boyfriend to change his mind in the near-distant future because something or another leading to the crash out of the century hosted by none other than Harris, Social Media Manager Supreme.
Psh. Everybody dealt with that. That was nothing.
By all accounts, Harris was fine. Happy even! So happy.
Well… maybe he was a little lonely tonight. Troy’s mom was in town for the night and considering Troy’s current absence from Harris’s bed, he was pretty sure he fell asleep at the hotel.
Harris wasn’t surprised. Troy gets sleepy around people he’s comfortable with. He would know. The minute Troy laid on his chest, he was out like a light. It was cute, a domesticity that Harris had always craved and never thought he would get from someone like The Troy Barrett. If teen Harris could see him now…
It wasn’t like there was anything crazy going on tomorrow either. It would be a Friday with no scheduled games, just practice. He and Troy were going to hole up at Harris’s apartment after his shift and eat a bunch of food while trying to plan for their trip. He had a feeling they would probably just be “wasting” a bunch of time in bed though. Either way, it would be a nice break from Troy’s crazy schedule and Harris’s somehow even more hectic one. That was the plan anyways.
Harris was fine. Super happy with his circumstances. Seriously.
So it didn’t make sense why he woke up in the wee hours of the morning, drenched in sweat, hyperventilating.
Something felt wrong. He didn’t even remember what the nightmare was about, just a dropping sensation in his stomach like he had been falling, and a weird feeling he was forgetting something important.
He wracked his brain trying to remember. He had turned in his timesheet last week, he had made sure to drop off Chiron at Hannah’s for his training tomorrow, he had sent out the most recent proposals for the National Unity Project to Theresa, NHL’s rep, he had followed up with Gen and Colleen and— Had he sent those proposals?
It was getting a little hard to breathe. He needed to calm down. In and out. In and out. But he needed to check to make sure those proposals had been sent. None of the ideas in there were really good enough for the project in Harris’s mind, but the deadline was yesterday so it was really important to submit. They were going to be reviewed by the board and everything. He really should have tried a little harder to think of something better.
He remembered Troy had come to visit him in his office when he was sending the email and gave him a very distracting see-you-later kiss. Maybe he had just thought he sent them and they were still in his drafts?
Oh god, Theresa was going to kill him. Harris had only met her over video calls but he knew the minute she started speaking that, one toe out of line, one deadline missed for this project, would be the end of his career with the Centaurs.
Okay, it was getting really hard to breathe now. He tried to slow his breathing down as best as he could, keeping track of his heart rate. He reached for his laptop on his bedside table, hands trembling slightly. He couldn’t shake the overwhelming dread that was filling his lungs with water. He never missed a deadline before, especially not for something as important as this. Fuck, this was so unprofessional of him.
He pushed forward, cracking open his laptop. It took him longer than usual to put in his damn password because his fingers weren’t hitting the right fucking keys. Stop freaking out. It’s probably fine. Just breathe. But every inhale felt like he was trying to suck in a really lumpy smoothie.
Maybe he should call Troy first? Just hearing his voice might help Harris shake whatever the hell was bothering him. Maybe he somehow would remember if Harris had sent that email.
As he reached for his phone, he felt it.
A pause in the rhythm. A skip that seemed to last forever and a lump of pain in his chest that passed slowly like rolling a boulder up and over a very tall hill.
Shit. That did not feel good.
Perhaps it was a fluke, nothing to be concerned about.
But Harris stopped everything anyway and put all of his efforts into focusing on calming down. Breathe in and out. In and out. Think happy thoughts. The team cheering after a win, his family laughing and joking, summertime, Chiron’s little goofy looking face, Troy…
But a minute later, it happened again.
And then two minutes later, a third time.
Troy was not the first person Harris needed to call.