A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter written...I'm literally the worst omfg. And honestly, I can't guarantee that it'll be any better with the next chapter, since I'm in school and taking 20 credit hours. I'm going to squeeze as much writing as I can in the next couple weeks, but I can't guarantee anything.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. We're finally starting to build to the good stuff :)

The months roll on; the ebb and flow of the hockey season consumes Kent's time and focus. But still, the situation with Jack continues to nag at Kent. He's restless. Tater said Jack would need time, but it's been almost four and a half months and he's gotten nothing from Jack. Not a text, not a phone call, not even a mention in an interview.

Kent knows that time might not be the only thing Jack—they need. Even with his apology, there's so much that's still left unspoken. Kent spent six years waiting and hoping, and Jack spent six years ignoring and resenting. Six years of silence and assumptions. They each have their own views of those years, and it's going to take more than time to reconcile their two experiences. They have to talk.

"He not have to forgive," Tater had also said. Kent knows that he's right; no matter how much Kent wants, and maybe even needs Jack to forgive him, he doesn't have to. But Kent doesn't want to concede that, not just yet. Not until they give talking a shot first.

In three days, the Falconers are playing the Aces in Las Vegas. The Falconers will be flying in tomorrow afternoon. If Kent can somehow get a hold of Jack in that time, invite him over to his apartment—maybe they can finally say all the things they've wanted to for years.

But Kent can't contact Jack. All the traditional channels are still closed off; apologizing to Jack ended up not changing that. Unless Jack contacts him first, Kent has no way to talk to him. Unless…

Kent quickly fishes his phone out of his pocket, tapping on Twitter and typing out a message at a frantic pace (lest he convinces himself that this is a terrible idea).

*Direct Messages with Alexei Mashkov*

Kent: Can I ask you a favor?

Alexei: sure )
Alexei: what you need?

Kent takes a deep breath. Once he asks this, it's out there; he can't take it back. Tater is Jack's teammate, and Jack could see Tater doing this as a violation of his trust. Trust is key for any team, and Kent certainly doesn't want to do anything that might jeopardize their relationship as teammates. But it is at Tater's discretion whether to actually relay anything to Jack. If Tater sees it as too big a risk, he won't do it. Kent can actually ask Tater without putting anything at risk, right?

Kent: How would you feel about talking to Jack for me?

Kent holds his breath, waiting for Tater's reply. Three minutes…five minutes…seven minutes. Perhaps even just asking was crossing a line. Ten minutes…

Alexei: why?

Kent lets out the breath he was holding by way of loud groan. Twelve minutes of waiting, just for Tater to ask why. It almost feels like getting "k" in response to a long, thought-out message. Despite his frustration, Kent fires back his reply at lightning speed.

Kent: I know you said he needed time but it's been almost four and a half months and I think that maybe we need more than time.
Kent: I think it would help a lot if we had a chance to clear the air
Kent: So I was thinking I would invite him over when you guys come out here.

Tater's reply comes a lot quicker this time.

Alexei: im not sure is good idea

Kent knows he really should let that be the end of it. Tater's uncomfortable with the idea, and that should be reason enough to drop it. But Kent is desperate.

Kent: Alexei please
Kent: I don't know how Jack and I are ever going to work this out if we don't talk

Alexei: what if jack not ready?
Alexei: what if he not want to work out?

Kent: I know that he might not want to
Kent: Trust me, the thought crosses my mind every time I think about this
Kent: But I just feel like I have to try, even if Jack has decided he doesn't want to work things out
Kent: I guess I just want to know

Alexei: im not sure i want to do
Alexei: you are good friend
Alexei: but jack is teammate and first duty is to him
Alexei: is this because you still in love with jack?

Kent nearly chokes on his own spit. Why would Tater—how could he—how did he think to ask that question? He's been very careful to say nothing to suggest to Tater the nature of his relationship with Jack.

But then again, it's generally not normal for someone to continually get emotional the way Kent has about someone who was just a friend. And he did nearly slip up a few times when he talked to Tater after that party/kegster/thing. Tater probably guessed from the clues that Kent unintentionally gave him.

Still, straight up admitting that he and Jack were…boyfriends? Lovers? Together? Just fucking? Kent really doesn't know because that's something they never did actually talk about. But, admitting that on the hunch that Tater already knows is too much of a risk. He could be talking about like—platonic love or something like that.

Kent: What makes you think love has anything to do with this?

Alexei: after you apologize jack tell me few things
Alexei: not much specific
Alexei: i mostly guess from what you say and what he say
Alexei: unless i am wrong?

Kent swallows. That's still not enough for Kent to feel comfortable telling the truth. He needs to know exactly what Jack said, so he doesn't accidentally tell Tater more than Jack wants him to know.

Kent: What exactly did he say about us?

Alexei: he say he not remember much because drugs
Alexei: but he say that you be "more than friend"
Alexei: he not say anything else

That's good enough.

Kent: Yeah, he's right
Kent: We were more than friends
Kent: I wish I could tell you exactly what we were but even now I still don't know
Kent: We—I always kind of avoided talking about it and Jack was happy to follow my lead
Kent: But I knew I was in love, but I was too scared to say it
Kent: I always thought it was something that could wait until after the draft, when we knew where we were going
Kent: Like then I would know if we had a chance, and then it would be much easier
Kent: I never realized that Jack was struggling so badly
Kent: His OD blind-sided me just like everyone else
Kent: And even when he stopped talking to me, that didn't change how much I loved him
Kent: I tried so hard to reach out to him for so long
Kent: It wasn't until after that night at the party that I realized that he didn't feel the same way
Kent: It hurt a lot and I made a big mistake because of it
Kent: But in a way it was a good thing for me because I finally knew I had to move on
Kent: I can't say that I don't love him anymore, but it's not that kind of love
Kent: Before we became whatever we were, he was like the brother I never had
Kent: And I still see him as my brother and I just want to be able to talk to him again

When Kent finishes typing, he closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. He's never told anyone the whole story. He's never had anyone he could tell the whole story to. And maybe it doesn't sting the way it used to, it's still hard for Kent to think about. But in a way he feels lighter. He's finally not holding the whole thing inside, keeping it to himself.

When Kent finally feels calmer and reopens his eyes, Tater has responded.

Alexei: wow
Alexei: i not realize how hard all was for you
Alexei: draft party apology
Alexei: it all make sense

Kent: There were so many times I wanted to tell you but I couldn't
Kent: Not without betraying Jack's trust

Alexei: i understand
Alexei: jack tell me he can not say all for same reason
Alexei: but now i know
Alexei: i know you just want to make right
Alexei: i will talk to jack
Alexei: what you want me to say?

Kent: Would you please just ask him to unblock my number?

Alexei: of course
Alexei: i will let you know what jack say

Kent: I can't tell you how much I appreciate this Alexei
Kent: Thank you so much *heart*

Alexei: no problem )))) *heart*

When Kent arrives at the arena for the game against the Falconers two days later, he arrives feeling lighter than he has in—well, since before Jack's overdose, so literally years. Kent hadn't been sure whether asking Tater to talk to Jack would actually work, but it did; the next morning after his conversation with Tater, Jack had texted him. And though it took a while (and maybe a little begging on Kent's part), Kent managed to convince Jack to come over to his apartment that night.

It was awkward at first. Jack sat at Kent's kitchen table silently, rigidly, while Kent busied himself with preparing dinner. Kent didn't know where to start, and it seemed that Jack didn't know either. There was six plus years of things to talk about, a daunting task to say the least. But all through dinner, Jack made no attempt to get things started. So Kent had to take the plunge.

"Fine," Kent sighed. "I'll start. Before you overdosed—why didn't you ever tell me what was going on? Because I—I would've tried to help if I had known. I mean, I was your best friend, Jack."

Jack exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "Look Kent, it's not that I didn't want you know, I just…"

That was all it took to get things started. Once the words started coming out, they wouldn't stop. Kent did a lot of crying and a little bit of yelling, and Jack, for his part, was quite calm, but Kent could see the emotion in his eyes.

It became clear very early on that neither of them really had considered the other's perspective. They only ever saw things through their own lenses, not once thinking about how the other person was seeing things. The only reason things turned out the way they did was through a series of assumptions and misunderstandings.

Working through it all was hard work, emotionally exhausting. But by the end, they both had a much clearer picture of the last seven years. And when it was all over, when there was nothing left to be said, at close to 2:00 in the morning, Kent stood and extended his hand.

"So—friends?" he had asked.

Jack's forehead had scrunched up as he thought about it carefully. Standing up, Jack had nodded slowly, taking Kent's hand and shaking it. "It's going to take some time—to get to know each other again and rebuilding trust but—yeah. Friends."

Exchanging a brief (and awkward hug), Kent ushered Jack out of his apartment. Kent didn't fall asleep until an hour or so later, tired but still feeling emotionally charged. Being that late threw his whole routine off, but Kent can't find it within himself to mind.

When Kent walks into the locker room, most of the Aces players are already there, giving him strange looks because Kent is usually the first one to arrive. But he was tired, and slept through the alarm for his pre-game nap and woke up late. It's a minor miracle that he was able to show up on time.

"Looks like Parser finally decided to join us!" Mac hoots from across the room, breaking the silence. Kent flips him off and continues to his cubby.

Felix, whose cubby is next to his, raises an eyebrow at Kent as he drops his bag.

"In the time you've been with this team, I don't think you've been the last one here one fucking time," Felix says, frowning. "Are you okay?"

Kent sits down to catch his breath (he ran all the way here from his car). Now that he's here, he can't exactly dawdle, but he doesn't have to rush to get ready for warm-ups.

Kent nods absently. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answers. "I just accidentally slept through my pregame nap alarm."

"Are you feeling okay?" Felix asks.

"What?"

"You sure you didn't sleep through you're alarm because you're like, fucking sick or something?" Felix presses.

"Huh? Oh God no, I swear I'm fine," Kent replies, confused and taken aback by Felix's question because not once in his six seasons has he ever missed a game due to an illness, and that's a streak Kent has no intention of breaking.

Felix squints, examining him carefully. "Okay—I mean, you're not like fucking pale or anything. You look fine but you're never this fucking late for pre-game."

"I wasn't late!" Kent protests.

"It was late for you," Felix replies simply. "Are you sure everything's fucking fine?"

Kent huffs in frustration. "Fine, I was 'late'. And I swear everything is just hunky-dory. I was just up really late last night."

One look at Felix's face alerts Kent that he made a fatal mistake in revealing that information to his alternate captain.

"Up late, hmm?" Felix says with a smirk. "What were you doing up so fucking late that you were the last one here?"

"None of your fucking business, that's what," Kent retorts sharply, even though he's grinning slightly as he does.

"None of my fucking business?" Felix chuckles. "You really think I'm going to buy that one?"

"You're going to have to," Kent says, bending over to open up his equipment bag.

Felix smacks him hard on the back, nearly causing Kent to fall off the bench. "We'll see about that. I fully intend to find out what the fuck you were up to last night, whether you want me to know or not."

"You can try," Kent says, rolling his eyes. He knows what Felix thinks he was up to, but of course he wasn't. But it's nice to be getting this kind of treatment from the team—and actually enjoying it.

Kent walks out of the locker room after the game, still feeling much of the bubbly happiness he felt earlier, though it is tinged with a bit of disappointment. They played a hard fought game, but a goal scored by the Falconers with 10.7 seconds left gave the Falconers the 3-2 win. Kent doesn't get it. They're the better team, what with three playoff appearances and a Stanley Cup since Kent joined the team. But somehow, in the fourteen games in Kent's career that they've played against the Falconers, the Aces have only won four.

"Kent!"

Tater's voice booms through the hallway, drawing Kent out of his frustrated pondering. He looks up and beams, too delighted at seeing Tater's smiling face and too generally cheerful to stay even a little bit down for very long.

"Hi Tater!" Kent replies brightly, bounding over to where Tater is standing, heart leaping when Tater reaches out and pulls him into a hug.

"Is good to see you always!" Tater says when he releases Kent. "You are look very happy today. I not see you smile this big before."

Kent ducks his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well, I guess I just have a lot to be happy about," he says quietly.

"You do not know how pleased Tater is to hear this," Tater replies.

Kent glances up at Tater's face, impossibly soft, and the moment is starting to feel too heavy, so Kent deflects. "Well, I'm not as happy as I could be, considering what just happened out there," he says, shaking his head. "I don't know you guys do it. Every time we play, you give us fits."

Tater's expression shifts into a smirk, and Kent feels infinitely more comfortable. "Perhaps we are always just better team," Tater says.

Kent rolls his eyes. "Sure, that seems likely. How about you try that argument again when you have playoff appearances and a Cup?"

"Don't worry, we will soon enough, eh?"

Kent and Tater both turn to see Jack slowly wandering in their direction, a small, lopsided grin turning up a corner of his mouth.

It takes Kent a second to register what Jack said, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance, but when he does, he laughs. "Ha! That's a good one Jack," he says.

Tater nudges Kent's shoulder, knocking Kent sideways a step. "You be laughing now, but you will see we be right soon."

Kent snorts. "You've got to string together a couple of wins before you're even a threat to make the playoffs," he points out, maybe a touch too smugly; the Aces have already clinched their spot (meanwhile, the Falconers are—well, at least they were 6 points back of the 8th seed in the Eastern Conference, coming into tonight).

"We're off to a good start, aren't we?" Jack asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I suppose so," Kent grumbles, shaking his head. "I just don't get how you did it! I mean, we were tied! The puck was on the other side of the ice! And then you just—and it was—I don't even know."

"Was all on Zimmbonni!" Tater says, slapping Jack on the shoulder before drawing him under his arm. "He was one to make happen!"

"You're giving me too much credit," Jack says. "It was a team effort."

"Zimmbonni Zimmbonni Zimmbonni," Tater says, patting Jack's bicep with every iteration of his nickname. "Is not interview! You brag all you want here!"

"Yeah," Kent agrees. "I mean, I was on the ice a lot and I couldn't watch you a whole lot but from what I saw, you played great out there, man."

Jack's cheeks are slightly pink as he responds with a mumbled "thanks" before he clears his throat. "Anyway, I didn't come here to brag," he says, ducking out from under Tater's arm. "The coaches wanted to see you after the game Tater, but you bolted."

"I must say hi to Kent before he leave!" Tater responds, pulling Kent under the arm Jack had just vacated. Kent, meanwhile, ducks his head so Jack doesn't see how brightly his cheeks are burning.

"Oh. Well I guess—they want to see you ASAP," Jack says, shrugging slightly.

Tater nods. "Okay. Tell them I will be there in minute," he says. "Want to talk to Kent alone for short time."

Jack looks back and forth between them for a second, his eyes widening slightly. "Oh. I see," he responds, taking a step back. "I will—uh, I'll see you later. At the hotel."

"Hey Jack?" Kent says before Jack can turn around and start walking away.

"Yeah?" Jack responds, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"I meant to say this after the first time we played but—it's really good to see you out there again," Kent says quietly.

"It's good to be out there," Jack says, smiling slightly.

"And uh—I'm glad we could—I mean—I'm glad we can do this," Kent adds, vaguely gesturing between them.

"Yeah, me too," Jack says. He walks over and punches Kent in the arm. "So hey. Text me some time, okay?"

"Yeah, you bet I will. I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me," Kent says, punching Jack back.

Jack huffs a quiet laugh. "Fine, then I'll just ignore you."

"Like you're really going to do that," Kent shoots back.

"Don't think I won't," Jack replies warningly. "Just—it won't be for quite so long this time."

Kent nods. "Okay, good. Now get your ass outta here Zimms. Didn't Tater say he wanted to talk to me alone?"

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Jack chuckles. "I'll talk to y'all later."

When Jack is gone, Kent comes out from under Tater's arm, turning to him so they're face to face, brow furrowed in confusion. "Since when does Jack use 'y'all'?"

"Is all Bitty's fault," Tater says, shaking his head.

"Bitty?"

"Ask Zimmbonni later," Tater replies dismissively. "So I see last night go well."

Kent nods rapidly. "Yeah, it went great," he answers. "I mean—it was hard, but it was what we needed to do, you know? We're not like, immediate best friends, but we're going to work on it, you know?"

"Yes, I'm know," Tater says, stretching out and squeezing Kent's shoulder. "I'm happy for you."

"It's just—" Kent pauses. "It's nice to not have anything left unsaid hanging over us anymore. And like, I'm really glad to have another friend besides you now."

Tater's smile falters for a split-second, and Kent feels his heart lurch, and he rushes to recover.

"But like, no matter how my new—old?—friendship with Jack develops, he's not going to take your place. I mean, you've seen me at points that Jack didn't—I was at my worst, my lowest, and you were there—" Kent hesitates for a moment. "And that makes what we have special. The stuff I would trust you with now—I wouldn't have trusted Jack with, not even before."

"That means much to me to hear," Tater says, looking at Kent with an expression he's never seen and that he can't place. "I have many friends. But none will be important as Kent."

Kent feels an overwhelming rush of affection, and he quickly steps forward and embraces Tater, burying his face into Tater's shoulder. "Thanks," Kent murmurs.

"You are much welcome," Tater says. "Now coaches need to see. I must go, but we talk soon, yes?"

"Yeah, of course," Kent says, squeezing Tater before he lets him go.

"Okay, see you," Tater says fondly, patting Kent on the shoulder before he walks off.

As Kent heads to his car, he knows he has a lot he should be thinking about; the way Kent's heart lurched when Tater's face betrayed that he thought he might be replaced by Jack, the look on Tater's face when Kent said what they had was special and that he trust him, the way Kent's chest felt impossibly tight when Tater said none of his friends was more important than him.

He has a lot he should be thinking about, but instead, he's going to ignore it all. It's too much, the implication much too big for Kent to face right now. Instead he climbs in his car and turns up the radio, letting the bubble gum pop music drown out his thoughts.

A/N: Coming up next chapter: a coming out party, feat. a surprise guest ;)