Sean giggled, experiencing the glee Clover must feel whenever they indulged in a good old game of ‘got your nose!’. He half expected Gabe to pull his closed fist back, waving it childishly in the air as he taunted Sean. He took a swig from his bottle instead, chuckling halfheartedly around the rim of the bottle, and put that line of conversation to bed. He hadn’t brought Gabe all the way out on a weekday to discuss the merits of his pIace in the Rangers, jersey or no jersey.
“My bad!” he insisted, raising two hands above his head - one still clutching the bottle - to show he meant no harm. He had enough trouble with one young lady wanting to kick his behind, he didn’t need to add a second. He also had no doubt Blair Mcrory was perfectly capable of doing so. He’d seen her on the ice in his downtime, a hard, mean look on her face as she skated with the utmost concentration. He’d also heard the bickering that took place on the ice between her and Gabe. It was hard to imagine her in a sparkly princess get-up.
He didn’t get the vibe they exactly got along. Which was weird, because Gabe was like the funnest, easiest guy to get along with. And handsome too! He’d never met a woman (or a man, come to think of it. Because Gabe liked men too!) that Gabe couldn’t charm. It was just that he’d only ever had eyes for Emily.
Sean’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the man across from him. Who, for all intents and purposes, read as very straight. As much as anyone could read as gay or straight, he didn’t know. How could you know? What did people think when they looked at him? What had he thought the first time he’d met Libby, or Perry? The point was, Gabe was decidedly, loudly not straight. Sean hadn’t forgotten the safe haven the Rangers had been for him when he’d been vocal about his sexuality. But since then, no one else had come out, the team had slowly gone back to conformity, even if they still taped up their hockey sticks with rainbows.
Huh. Sean was sitting on a wealth of knowledge on the subject of gay ice hockey, and he hadn’t even thought to ask!
“Clover would love to see you.” he heard himself say, snapping out of his reverie. He offered Gabe a bright smile, knowing how happy his little girl would be to be reunited with the man he affectionately referred to as Uncle Gabe. She was too little to stand up on the ice by herself, but enjoyed being whizzed around by Sean. He was sure she’d be delighted by the spins Gabe could do - maybe when she was a little older.
“Aw, come on. I’m sure you’ve got more to tell me.” he pressed, tapping the edge of the table. It had been so long since he’d gotten Gabe alone like this, he wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. He softened considerably when Gabe called him Seanie though, not for the first time that night. He sounded so much like Casey when he dd that.
“New with me?” he asked, knowing he sounded drunker than he felt. His words tended to slur into each other anyway, when he was talking too fast or nervous or uncertain. For those reasons, he didn’t interview particularly well.
He went through his mental laundry list of things to tell Gabe about. Adelaide Davies’ latest article had been published this weekend, and it had said mostly nice things about him, but he knew Gabe read those anyway. Clover was still sleeping through the night, and well, there was…
Sean felt himself blush considerably.
“Aw, nothing.” he tried to deflect, knowing the redness had travelled all the way up his neck and to the tips of his ears. He couldn’t talk about that, could he?
The truth was, Gabe didn’t know what he had left to tell Sean. The other man was the only person that knew about the strange dalliance he had going with Missy and he’d been more than vocal of his disapproval. His foray into figure skating was plodding along just as slowly as it had been a few years prior when he’d stepped into Emily’s role, only this time with Blair staring daggers into the front, back and side of his head. Sean knew about that too, so what more could he possibly have to tell? Gabe’s days were as dull as dishwater with nothing to report, and he certainly didn’t do enough to warrant frequent player profiles by one Adelaide Davies. Of course, Gabe knew about her articles. He’d ready every last one, cover to cover. He’d even gone so far as to look into her previous work, enraptured by her writing style. She was a stellar journalist, and he couldn’t wait to see what she whipped up next.
The trouble was that Sean was as humble as a dove, usually having a tendency to downplay his achievements. He’d wax lyrical about his loved ones, yet he could unleash the perfect snipe into the top left corner of the goal against the best team in the league and you wouldn’t hear a peep out of him. It was that same modesty that revealed so much about the other man, though. It mean that when he did have something to share – or, better yet, something to hide – he wore it plain across his features.
Gabe watched with a fond smirk, his brow arched in amusement as Sean turned an almost concerning shade of red. If he wasn’t careful, he’d start to resemble the Devil’s jersey and then they’d be in trouble.
“You sure about that, honey?” Gabe laughed, shaking his head fondly.
Whatever had gotten Sean so worked up, it was enough to lift his voice up at the edges. His voice was pitched high enough that it was giving pretty good insight into what Clover might sound like in 30-odd years. A laugh spilled from Gabe’s lips as he glanced back at his friend, catching the eye of a pretty girl that stood just over his shoulder. She was looking at them both curiously, as if she was sure she recognised them. Almost imperceptibly, Gabe gave her a quick, swift shake of his head, hoping she wouldn’t disturb them, before winking her way. The blush of hers matched Sean’s perfectly, and a thought jumped to the forefront of his mind.
“Now, hold on, Seanie. It’s a girl, isn’t it? Well, I’ll be damned,” Gabe slapped his knee for emphasis, chuckling with delight. “You’ve met someone. Tell me everything.”
