tensions cleared
pairings: fraser minten x bedard!reader summary: the secret is finally out warnings: fluff
wc: 1.8k
you learn early on that secrets have weight to them. not the kind that is loud, and blows up in your face -- the kind that presses quietly into your ribs, settles in your chest when connor's around, when fraser's name comes up in conversation like it's nothing, like it doesn't mean anything more than a friend of connor's, and is simply just another guy in the room. you carry it carefully, like if you shift too fast it'll spill out of you and onto the floor between all three of you.
dating fraser wasn't supposed to be complicated. it started easy, a bit too easy. late nights that turned into early mornings, texts that stretched into hours, the kind of comfort that didn't ask questions. he's steadier than most people you've met, and quieter in a way that makes you lean in. he listens, he remembers things, he notices when you're tired before you even say it.
and he's one of connor's best friends. that's where the weight comes from. at first, it feels manageable. you tell yourself you'll figure out how to say it eventually, that there'll be a right moment -- after a game maybe, or during one of connor's relaxed moods. but then days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, and suddenly "eventually" starts feeling like something you're actively avoiding.
fraser never pushes you to tell him. "you don't have to rush it," he tells you, his voice low, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "we'll tell him when you're ready."
you nod, because it sounds reasonable, because he makes it sound easy, but your stomach still twists anyway.
you know connor. you know the way he gets protective, how he always told his teammates and friends to never bat an eye toward you. you don't know if he'll be mad, or weird about it, so you wait it out.
however, waiting it out meant you started leaving evidence without realising.
it's small things at first. a hoodie is draped over your chair, the fabric that smells faintly like fraser's cologne. connor notices it one afternoon when he leans against your doorway, arms crossed, scanning your room like he always does.
"isn't that fraser's?" he asks, nodding toward it.
you shrug, trying to keep a casual tone. "yeah, he left it here the other day."
connor hums, not reading into it. "i see him soon, i'll give it back to him then."
you let out a small nod, maybe a little too quickly, but he doesn't question it, not then.
after that incident, you become more careful. you fold the hoodies he leaves for you and tuck it away. you double-check your room before you leave it. you start thinking one step ahead of him, trying to stay ahead of anything that might give you away.
you convince yourself you've got it under control. until the day that you don't. you're out running errands, not being gone for too long. connor texts you that he'll be stopping by to grab something he left in your room, and you don't think much of it. he's done it a hundred times before.
you thought you hid it well. it's not obvious, not being another hoodie this time, or being anything in plain sight. it's tucked away in your drawer, buried under loose items you haven't sorted through in a while. in your drawer was a strip of photobooth pictures you forgot you even had.
you remember taking them on a random night where nothing was planned. fraser had insisted that you two should try out the photobooth you walked past. the booth had been cramped, the camera flashing too fast, both of you laughing in between shots.
the first photo is harmless -- just the two of you, shoulders pressed together, smiling.
the second is closer, your heads tilting toward each other, the space betweeen you narrowing without either of you really thinking about it.
the third photo-
the third is the one where you and fraser share a kiss. it's nothing dramatic, just something soft, and natural. it wasn't something that needed to be planned, and just happened in the spur of the moment.
you don't think about the photos again after that night. that was until connor finds them.
he isn't looking for anything important, moving through your room naturally. when he opens the drawer, trying to find whatever he was originally looking for, his hand brushes through everything a few times before he notices the strip.
he pauses. at first, he just picks it up, expecting it to be something random. but then he looks closer, and the first image makes him slow down.
you and fraser, sitting close together in the booth. connor's expression shifts slightly as he registers fraser's face, connecting it to something familiar but out of context,
he moves to the second photo. you're closer now, more relaxed, your posture leaning into his without hesitation. it looks comfortable in a way that isn't casual, in the way he's used to seeing between teammates and friends. that's when the relisation starts to settle in.
he looks at the third photo. you and fraser are kissing. connor doesn't react outwardly right away, but the grip he has on the strip tightens slightly. his eyes stay on that frame longer than the others, the details clicking into place as the full meaning of the sequence becomes clear.
by the time he reaches the end of the strip, he understands what he's looking at.
later, your phone buzzes while you're out.
we need to talk.
you stare at the message for a moment, your stomach dropping as the realisation hits fully. you don't need to ask what it's about. you don't respond immediately, you can't. your thoughts are already moving ahead, filling in the blanks, connecting the dots in a way that leaves no room for doubt.
by the time you get home, connor is already there. he's sitting on the edge of your bed, the photobooth strip in his hand. he looks up when you walk in, and the atmosphere in the room shifts immediately, the weight of the situation settling between you.
"were you just not going to tell me?" he asks.
you close the door behind you, heart beating harder than you'd like. "connor-"
"how long?" he cuts in, not raising his voice, but not letting the question sit unanswered either.
you hesitate, and that's enough for him to read into it.
connor exhales, running a hand through his hair before looking back down at the photos. "it's him," he says, more to himself than anything else. "fraser. my childhood friend."
you nod. "yeah."
silence follows, thick but not hostile. you step closer, then stop, unsure of how to close the distance that suddenly feels larger than the room itself.
"i was going to tell you," you say, quieter now. "i just didn't know how."
connor glances up at you, something softer cutting through the initial surprise. "you thought i'd freak out, didn't you."
"a little," you admit.
he lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. "you're not wrong." that reaction loosens something in your chest, even if only slightly.
he looks back at the photobooth strip one more time before setting it down beside him, as if accepting that it's real and not something that will disappear if he looks away.
"well, out of all my friends, i'm glad it's fraser," he admits. connor looks up and studies you for a bit, the leans back slightly, exhaling as he processes everything. the tension in the room doesn't vanish, but it shifts into something more mearsured.
"okay," he says finally.
relief settles in quietly, easing the pressure you've been carrying for longer than you realised.
connor glances at you again, a hint of something lighter returning. "i'm still going to talk to him," he adds.
you nod, a small breath leaving you. "yeah, i figured."
he huffs faintly, almost amused. "and i'm probably not going to be subtle about it."
you let out a small laugh at that, the first real break in the tension since you walked in.
connor looks around your room briefly, then back at you. "he's left more than just a hoodie in here, hasn't he?"
you pause, then admit it. "maybe…"
he shakes his head, a faint smile finally tugging at his mouth. "unbelievable."
as soon as connor left, the door clicking shut behind him, the silence that follows feels different. lighter, in a way that's almost disorienting at first. the pressure you've been carrying doesn't disappear all at once, but it shifts, loosening its grip enough that you can finally take a full breath without thinking about it.
you stand there for a moment, just letting it settle. then your mind jumps to fraser. your phone is already in your hand before you fully decide to reach for it. you don't want to wait, not with something this significant still fresh.the message comes together quickly, your thumbs moving faster than your thoughts can fully organise.
he knows
it's simple, direct, and enough to say everything without needing more explanation right away. you send it, then immediately feel the quiet anticipation that follows, that small pause where you wait for his response. it doesn't take long before fraser's reply comes through.
yeah? how?
there's a steadiness to it, even in something that short. no panic, no overreaction -- just a check-in.
he found the photos we took in the photobooth that one time. we talked, and he wasn't mad.
there's a slight delay this time, just enough for you to picture him reading it, processing it in his own way before responding. you can almost imagine the way his expression would shift, subtle but present, the way he tends to take things in quietly before saying anything.
when the reply comes, it's simple again.
okay, that's good to hear.
another pause follows, then a second message appears.
are you okay?
you let out a small breath at that, something in your chest easing further at the fact that his first concern is you, not the complication itself. you lean back slightly against your pillows, your shoudlers relaxing as you respond.
yeah, i am now.
there's a short silence before fraser replies again, and when he does, it's with the same calm tone he's had throughout all of this.
i'll come over in 20 mins. i'm sure connor would want to talk to me aaand i want to see you again :)
you smile at his messages, and you set your phone down beside you. your room is quiet around you in a way that no longer feels heavy. it's not that everything is solved, but the part that mattered the most -- the secrecy, the uncertainty, the weight of keeping it contained -- is no longer something you have to carry.
a/n: back with bedard!reader yippee!!! dw i never forgot abt my sweet darlings. this one's a lot more connor and bedard!reader focused