Chapter 2

First practice of preseason.

Well, first practice with their team. Matthew couldn't stand a few months without hitting a few pucks around. Alfred went along with (almost) anything, laughing and calling Matthew a "hockey junkie."

Matthew has to agree with him a bit but his Papa and Alfred have no reason to exchange long-suffering sighs. Sure, he spends time in rinks during the summer but he does normal summer things, too! He went swimming, fishing, played street hockey with Al and kids in the neighborhood…

Well, Matthew had dragged Alfred to play with kids in his neighborhood…and then had to drag Alfred away from the kids. Matthew is pretty sure Alfred's enthusiasm and charm had several born and bred little Habs fans wanting Jones jerseys. Matthew expects angry calls from his papa's neighbors any day now.

"What are you smiling at?" Alfred pokes him in the shoulder.

"Hm? Just thinking." Matthew blinks and looks out the car window. "Oh, we're here."

"Yep." Alfred leans against the steering wheel. "I pulled in a couple minutes ago and you were staring into space. We don't have to, you know."

"Al, we're not skipping practice."

"That's not what I meant. I mean, we don't have to talk with Rome. If you don't want to."

Matthew forces himself to look forward. "We talked about it and agreed to it. We will talk to him sometime before the season starts."

"You're uncomfortable with coming out." Alfred puts a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "If you don't want to, I don't want to. I shouldn't have pushed."

Matthew snorts. "I know you want to come out, Al. And I don't want to hide you. I just…"

Alfred's hand slid down from Matthew's shoulder and entwines their fingers. "It's going to be okay. We'll figure out a good time and everything will be okay."

Matthew smiles back but he is nervous. Before Alfred, he never told anyone but his papa and his sister that he likes girls and guys. He kissed a boy on his bantam team but they never spoke of it afterward. The only others who know are Al's brothers, Toris, and Feliks.

"Come on, enough wasting time." Matthew lets go of Alfred's hand. "You're not getting out of practice."

"Drat! You caught onto my plan."

Matthew shakes his head and gets out of the car. He opens the door to the back seat as Alfred heads to the trunk. He grabs his bag. Something is missing. "Did I leave my sticks at home?"

"Nope. I got them, Mattie." Alfred waves the sticks above the seat before pulling the sticks and his own bag out of the trunk. "Can you imagine, first day of active captaincy and you forget your own sticks?"

Matthew adjusts his glasses, trying to hide his blush. "I didn't forget them."

"But you forgot where you put them." Alfred says with a laugh.

"Shut up." Matthew locks the car before shoving Alfred. "I can make you do drills now."

"Hey…wait, you've always made me do drills." Alfred whacks him lightly with the sticks.

Matthew rolls his eyes. "You're easy to bri—"

A hand grabs Matthew's shoulder. "So little Mattie born with a 'C' on his chest?"

Matthew looks over his shoulder but he already recognizes that accent—Mattias Axelsson, the defensemen that Las Vegas fans affectionately called the "Great Dane." Though, announcers are quick to abuse the Hamlet quote "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark" with Mattias's tendency to end up in the sin bin.

Alfred laughs. "Hey, Mattias. You wouldn't believe how bossy Mattie can be. This captain thing is going to suck before the season even starts, dude."

Mattias cackles. "I'll just slam him in the boards more."

"Hardy-har-har." Matthew rolls his eyes. "I'm right here, you know."

"Really? When did you appear?" Mattias asks in false surprise. "I just talking to Al and, BAM, you here."

Matthew resists correcting Mattias's English. "Come on guys, let's not be late."

Alfred checks his watch. "We're a good twenty minutes early, still."

Matthew and Alfred both pause and turn to stare at Mattias.

Alfred checks his watch again. "Holy shit, you're early."

"I'm not that early." Mattias grins.

"You're always late." Matthew pauses for a moment. "What, did Torvald threaten you?"

"I'm not scared of Torvald!" Mattias's grin disappears and he looks like someone kicked his puppy. "He mess with my alarm clock."

"Why hadn't anyone thought of that years ago?" Alfred asks.

"If you didn't live with our captain, you would be late with me." Mattias says to Alfred and Matthew silently agrees. "What does captain do? Kick you out of bed?"

Matthew freezes. Did Mattias guess about their relationship? Or has Timo said something? Did everyone kno—

No. Matthew tries to calm himself down. Alfred is right. He can't afford to get worked up over being discovered.

"Sometimes!" Alfred laughs. "But getting up is the difference between pancakes and a protein shake."

Alfred makes a face (which Matthew thinks is ridiculous; protein shakes don't taste that bad), which sets Mattias off in laughter.

"Baby! Should've known food was involved." Mattias grabs Alfred's cheek, pulling on the skin. "How much weight did you get during summer?"

Alfred slaps his hand away. "I worked out during the summer!"

"Captain make you? Timo says you two spend summer together."

Alfred flinches and looks guiltily at Matthew. They didn't hide the fact they spent the summer together; it seems reasonable for Alfred to stay with Matthew with both Alfred's lack of home outside of Las Vegas and temperamental brothers is well known. Half of the team offered Al a place to stay after the playoffs. Matthew was almost surprised that Alfred actually went to Montreal with him. Considering how Al raves about Berwald's baking, there had been a chance Alfred would have ended up in Sweden. Alfred would fit in well with Berwald's blonde, be-spectacled brood.

"It's not like I made him get up every day at the crack of dawn." Matthew slips a little whine into his voice. "Only on weekdays."

Mattias slaps his back. "You are cruel guy, Williams."

"Tell me about it!" Alfred says with a smile.

Matthew punches his shoulder. "If you had your way, you would have camped out in front of a TV and only leave the house for food."

"What are you talking about?" Alfred waves the hockey sticks, which would be more threatening if his smile isn't splitting his face. "I had no reason to leave the house! Your dad was cooking for me."

"Spoiled." Matthew shakes his head. "Come on, let's get inside. I don't think we are having practice in the parking lot."

"Dude, that would be awesome!"

Mattias looks like he is thinking about it.

Matthew grabs Alfred's arm and pulls him towards the rink. "Do it on your own time. We have practice."

"Still early!" Mattias protests.

Matthew doubles back and grabs Mattias's arm with his other arm and drags both of them into the rink. He didn't trust Mattias not to 'get lost' if he left him in the parking lot. Sometimes Matthew feels like a babysitter for the team, despite being the youngest last year before Al was called from the AHL (and Al is only younger by three days). "'Early' is a great way to start out the year. We can make it a habit."

"Fuck you, captain." Mattias grumbles

"Told you." Alfred sing-songs. "Having him for a captain is going to suck."

Rome (Marcus Aurelius, but Matthew's only heard LaChance refer to him as that and, as the owner of the Aces, she could get away with that) enters the room, cheerfully whistling. This is the time of year when anyone who fell behind on their workouts would be painfully obvious and Rome seems to find picking out lazy players to have Ludwig 'teach' them better work out routines.

Matthew has a feeling that sadism is a requirement for coaching and Ludwig is Rome's favorite instrument of torture. Ludwig goes above and beyond what Matthew thinks is needed with healthy diet and working out and he is always pushing their teammates to do the same.

Rome walks over to Matthew and puts an arm around his shoulders. "Nice to see you bright and early, kid. Anyone else here yet?"

"Ludwig is probably somewhere." Matthew looks around the locker room. It's empty but since Al's phone is on a bench, they haven't gone too far. "And Mattias and Al are probably hitting up a vending machine."

"Mattias? As in a certain Danish blond?" Rome asks, incredulous.

"We probably should give Torvald an 'A.' He fixed Mattias's alarm clock." Matthew says.

Rome snorts. "I knew Torvald was evil. It's always the quiet ones you have to watch for. I'll let him wrestle Berwald or Ludwig for alternate if he wants."

Matthew snorts. Torvald isn't exactly tiny but Berwald is huge and Ludwig's idea of fun seems to be bodybuilding.

"Anything else you want to talk about, kid?"

"Not really."

Except…

Matthew could tell Rome about his relationship with Alfred. It's preseason; the team and Rome are not under stress yet. Today may be the best time.

But today is only the first day of training camp; it's still early.

Should he tell?

"Okay then. Suit up, I'll be back in five." Rome turns, heading towards his office.

His heart pounds in his chest and he can only think, do it now or don't do it.

"Hey, Coach!" Matthew almost doesn't recognize his voice.

Rome turns around. "Yeah, kid?"

"Can we talk after practice?"

Rome smiles. "Of course."

There is something wonderful about being on the ice with the team again. As each player and staff member shows up, the practice has more of a feel of a family reunion. Greetings and questions turn into teasing as they get used to working with each other again.

Matthew remembers last year, when he was a rookie, how training camp felt like the first day of a new school. He doesn't feel out of place anymore. This is his team; he's part of it unlike last year when all he could do was hope to make the team. Al is in that position again but Matthew is sure Al will make it onto the roster.

He feels like he's come home again. Funny how he can feel like this rink in the middle of a desert so far away from Quebec is home.

Matthew is the last one back in the locker room after practice and half of the team is already out of the showers. The locker room is loud with chatter as guys are catching up on summers and teasing each other. Alfred is singing (and mangling) whatever trashy Europop song Mattias had put on the stereo. He seems oblivious to the world, towel around his waist and another towel made up as a ridiculous turban on his head as he sorts through his clothes.

"Hey, Al? Can you wait for me after?"

Alfred pauses in drying his hair. "We drove together, dude."

"Doesn't mean you'll stay around if someone offers you food."

"True." Alfred rubs his stomach—his bare stomach. Matthew sneaks a look and brings his gaze back up before Alfred can take notice. Alfred could complain all he wants about Matthew keeping him to workout schedules but they both reap the benefits. "You better hurry up 'cause I'm hungry."

"Grab something from the fridge. We're going to talk to Rome later."

"About what?" Alfred cocks his head to the side and his turban starts to unravel.

"About…us."

"Us? Wait, oh." The towel turban slips of his head. Alfred doesn't seem to notice it. "Us as in us?"

Matthew quickly checks around but the whole team seems busy with warm downs and cleaning up. "That's okay, right?"

"Yeah." Alfred takes a deep breath. "Of course! Let's go!"

Alfred grabs Matthew's arm.

Matthew shrugs him off. "Al, I need to get changed and you need to get dressed."

Alfred looks down at his towel. "Oh. Okay. I'll get dressed."

Al's cheeks go red and he quickly grabs his clothes. Matthew thinks it's hilarious; Alfred will wander around the locker room and even give locker room interviews in only a towel but the moment someone points it out, Alfred gets horribly shy.

Matthew is still smiling to himself as he strips down and heads for the showers.

He pretends not to notice that he is going slower than normal.

"So, what did you guys want to talk to me about?" Rome leans against his desk, not bothering to clear the paperwork off his chair.

Alfred plops down on the office couch in the middle. Matthew stares for a moment and then Al gets the hint and scoots over to give Matthew room. Matthew sits down and then looks up at Rome. Despite Rome's usual smile, Matthew feels as if he is a kid in the principal's office...not that he had much experience with that but movies always make that situation seem to be a horrible thing.

"Stop being so stressed! William's serious face is somewhat expected but your," Rome jerks his thumb towards Alfred. "Fidgeting like you've downed four monsters in the last hour. Again."

Matthew glances at Al who smiles sheepishly. Matthew clears his throat. "We've been keeping something from you and the team...not lying, but avoiding mentioning...something."

Alfred makes a choking sound and Matthew's face heats up. He wants to handle this carefully and not dive in head first like Alfred generally would.

Rome raises his eyebrows. "If you've already injured something, I'm leaving you to Yao's clutches."

"We're fine," Alfred almost shouts, panic clear in his voice.

"Nothing is wrong, per se. We just...um." Matthew bites his lip. He has gone over his planned speech at least six times but the words would not come today.

"Spit it out already. Or," Rome looks specifically at Alfred. "I'll call Yao up."

Matthew doesn't even get a moment to react before Alfred falls for the threat.

"We're gay!"

Matthew groans. He doesn't exactly know whyAlfred is terrified of the team doctor, Yao Wang. He's mildly impressed that the short doctor could affect Alfred near to the level as horror movies.

"Well, I'm gay, he's bisexual, and we are in a relationship." Alfred nods at Matthew.

Rome's eyebrows seem stuck up on his forehead. "Is it Fool's Day?"

"That's in April." Matthew frowns and wishes to be anywhere else. "I'm serious. I have been dating Al since before we were drafted."

"Huh." Rome crosses his arms. "Weird."

Matthew sits up straight and something must show on either his or Alfred's face.

Rome immediately holds up his hands. "Calm down, boys. I wasn't expecting this and, well, I just thought if any of my players were going to admit to a relationship that it would be a certain Swede and our Finnish goalie."

Matthew opens his mouth and then abruptly closes it before he can say something dumb. He won't admit to it, but sometimes he wonders about those two.

"Wait, they're married!" Alfred pauses. His eyes are very wide. "To women!"

Rome raises an eyebrow. "That doesn't exactly mean much."

"They have kids."

Rome opens his mouth and Matthew hastily shakes his head. If Alfred thinks about it too much, he will probably do something stupid, like ask Timo about his relationship with Berwald. Rumors have been made Timo and Berwald's relationship for years. No one has ever asked as far as Matthew knows. Or at least, no one has ever asked and survived to tell the tale.

Rome pats Alfred on the head. "Let's just leave it there, okay? Don't break your head over it."

"But..."

Rome pulls Al into a headlock and gives him a noogie.

"Hey!"

"Just relax, kiddo!" Rome lets Al go and shoves things off his desk to make room to sit on it. "Okay...so do you want to talk to the team first or Rosy and Eduard?"

"Team first, right?" Alfred asks Matthew. "If they're not comfortable..."

"Yeah." Matthew frowns. He doesn't want to think about the guys rejecting them. If even one...he would hate to lose a friend.

"Don't sweat so much boys! You two were pretty much adopted by our happy Swedish and Finnish couple. If someone gave you shit, they'll get Berry's good ol' death stare. At the very least." Rome has a nasty grin that betrays his history as a legendary agitator.

"Can we not call them a couple?" Alfred pleads. "I keep thinking of the height difference and-"

Matthew covers Alfred's mouth with his hand. "I don't think anyone will react particularly bad, but I don't want to chance ruining our team dynamics."

Alfred jerks away from Matthew and smiles. "Ever the captain, eh?"

Rome laughs and laughs harder when Matthew glares at Alfred.

Tonight was a happy night, so I thought, 'why not an update?' :)

"Habs" is the nickname for the Montreal Canadians. And yes, that would make Matthew a Habs fan as a kid.

"Bantam" is the hockey level 13-14 year olds play in Canada and the US according to wiki. This always makes me always think of the miniature chickens and I would have had fun with this if I had known about the chickens when my brother was 13.

Mattias Axelsson(Denmark), #33, Las Vegas Aces defenseman, traded from the Kings

Torvald Baardsson (Norway), #53, Las Vegas Aces forward

Yao Wang(China), team physician of Las Vegas Aces

Rossette Lachance(Monaco), Owner of Las Vegas Aces

Eduard Von Bock (Estonia), GM of the Las Vegas Aces