6. Brandon
SIX
brANDON
Brandon got called up on a Saturday morning in time for the Sunday matinee game.
Depending on the injury to the player he was replacing, he might get the chance to be up for a handful of games.
The Iowa Stars were in Michigan, and Brandon had flown to the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport with an oversized bag of gear and a carry-on suitcase.
NHL teams got chartered private jets, which was going to be a luxury, if he stayed up long enough to go on the Northern Lights’ next road trip.
However, AHL players getting called up from a random state at a random time flew commercial, and Brandon’s legs were too long for that to be enjoyable.
If the Northern Lights were famous for anything across the league, it was that the captain, Jackson Harper, and his husband and former teammate, Ryan Crosgrove, liked to host call-ups at their house.
True to the promise of their coach, Ryan was waiting for Brandon at the airport after the plane landed.
Brandon got a warm handshake, and then Ryan took his gear bag and suitcase and loaded them into the back of his SUV, fitting the three taped-together hockey sticks Brandon brought along on top .
“Jack is stoked to have you up, man,” Ryan said as he pulled out of the pickup line and onto the curving road that connected the airport to the highway. “He loves watching Stars games. Maybe more than the NHL teams he’s playing against. You’ve got a great wrister.”
“Thank you,” Brandon mumbled, intimidated by Ryan in every way he could imagine.
He was huge, first of all, and didn’t look like he’d ever skipped a gym day.
From prior knowledge, Brandon knew he was covered in tattoos, even if they were under the sleeves of his bomber jacket at the moment, only his hand and neck tattoos visible.
He’d had a full and beautiful hockey career, found love, came out, retired, and gotten married to one of the best hockey players currently playing.
From a quick scroll of his and Jackson’s Instagram profiles on the plane, they also had a cute dog. Plus, he was really fucking hot.
“Coach said you didn’t have an issue with dogs, right?”
“No, I like dogs.”
“You’ll love Lola. She’s the sweetest girl in the world.”
Brandon would have to wait for that, though, because Ryan brought him straight to the Northern Lights’ practice rink. It was on the top floor of a shopping center, with floor-to-ceiling windows on one entire side of the rink.
Ryan dropped him off, but it was easy to find the rest of the guys. He got warm welcomes and hurried to get ready to go as practice got started.
“I’m driving you home, just so you know,” Jackson Harper said, clapping him on the shoulder as he made it onto the ice.
Coach DeVries was welcoming even though Brandon got on the ice late, and Brandon paid close attention to the whiteboard the plays they were practicing today were written out on.
He was nervous and desperate to impress.
He could see Skylar’s face in his mind when he found out that Brandon had been called up (despite the fact that Brandon was a forward replacing an injured forward, and Skylar was a D-man), and didn’t want to hear any “and that’s why it should have been me” when he got sent back down.
Thankfully, even though things were new, hockey was hockey.
He’d been on enough teams to know he was the new guy and to be quiet.
As he took his gear off after practice, Coach DeVries came over to compliment his play and give him a pep talk.
He was still terrified of the game they’d play the following day, but he knew at this point in his career, he was being called up for his own development, not because they needed a guy to come in clutch and save the day. Everyone knew that.
Jackson could hold a conversation with a doorknob, which was an appreciated trait on the way back to the Harper/Cosgrove household.
Brandon nodded along, giving his two cents here and there.
Jackson had a deep knowledge of the Iowa Stars.
As captain of the Northern Lights, he wasn’t just a member of the team.
He was deeply invested in the organization and the community.
From the way his teammates talked about him in the interviews Brandon had watched over the years, it was a well-deserved position.
“We’re home,” Jackson called into the house when they made it back.
Brandon had left his hockey gear at the rink with the equipment team, and Ryan had brought his suitcase to the house after he’d dropped Brandon off, so he was empty-handed momentarily until a golden retriever barreled into him when he was barely past the threshold into the house.
“Hi, sweetie,” Brandon said, crouching down to pet their dog the best he could with her moving so much. Ryan had told him their dog’s name was Lola, and she was clearly the light of Ryan’s life.
“Did you have dogs growing up?” Jackson asked, grabbing Lola’s empty water bowl and heading into the kitchen with it.
“Oh, no, my sister is allergic to a lot of stuff, so we didn’t have animals, but I love dogs.”
“I’m going to get her settled and then I’ll give you the tour,” Jackson said, returning her water dish to a placemat on the floor with her name on it and then opening the back door to let Lola out.
It was cold, and she darted outside, briefly squatted to pee, and zoomed back inside, where Jackson lovingly dried her paws off with a Northern Lights towel.
In the meantime, Ryan appeared from the basement, tattoos on full display now that he wasn’t in a jacket anymore. He looked sweaty, like he’d been working out, and from the corner of his eye, Brandon saw Jackson give Ryan a long look.
“Hey, babe. I’d hug you, but I’m in the middle of cardio.”
“I see that,” Jackson said appreciatively. “I was about to give Brandon the tour.”
“Thanks so much again for letting me stay here,” Brandon said, like he was imposing, instead of on the receiving end of an offer he was highly encouraged to accept.
“I just put clean sheets on the guest bed, so it’s good to go,” Ryan said, then headed back downstairs.
“If you need to work out, equipment and space is in the basement, clearly. This is the kitchen. Help yourself to anything. Ryan is a big fan of snacks, so we have a ton of good ones. And healthy stuff. This is the living room, through there is the dining room,” Jackson said, wandering through the first floor as Brandon trailed behind him.
Their house felt so homey. It was clear people lived there.
There were pictures on the walls, and each room was filled up with stuff the way it only could be after years of living there, with trinkets, and throw blankets, and memories.
The front of their house was a typical white farmhouse-style newer construction, but the inside was much less sterile than he would have guessed.
Jackson pointed out the double doors to the primary bedroom at the top of the stairs, and then led him down the hallway toward the guest room.
“This was my room when I first got traded to Minnesota,” Jackson said fondly, pushing the guest room door open and leading Brandon in. His suitcase was already in the room, and Jackson gave him a rundown of everything in the en suite bathroom.
“Has this always been the hockey hotel?” He didn’t know Jackson’s lore as well as he should have, apparently.
“Not really. Ryan was a single vet living alone, and I was a young guy who didn’t know the area. Ryan agreed to host me for the season, or until I moved out if I didn’t make it that long, and instead?—”
“Instead you moved down the hall.”
“Yeah.” Jackson’s smile was sweet. Private. Brandon ached to feel that way about someone. One day he would. “And now we host call-ups to keep you out of trouble. Can’t have you falling in love with your teammate.”
“How was that received?”
“Um, not great,” Jackson said. He sat on the edge of the guest bed.
Jackson was a bundle of energy, small for a hockey player, and known by his big smile.
Now, the smile was not so big. “We kept it under wraps for a long time. We already lived together, so we weren’t too suspicious.
But it made it to management, eventually. ”
“And then they made you captain.”
“They made me captain and then traded my husband. Forced him into retirement. It’s important to me that the Northern Lights are an inclusive team.
The room is solid, and everyone follows my lead.
If you say ignorant, bigoted stuff, you will face consequences.
” He looked at Brandon, letting him know this wasn’t just a story.
It was his warning, too. “However, I can’t pretend like there isn’t any homophobia in the organization or the league.
It’s hockey, after all. We’re making it better, but it’s not perfect yet. ”
“That’s fucked.”
“Ryan was ready to retire. He’s got old injuries that still act up, and he just wants to stay home with Lola these days.
But it left a sour taste in our mouths for a while, for sure.
I think enough people feel guilty about it that they’ve been open to discussions about supporting the queer nonprofit Ry wants to get off the ground. ”
They went back downstairs in time for Ryan to finish his workout. “Give me a minute to shower real quick and I’ll make lunch.” He bussed a kiss to Jackson’s temple and hurried upstairs. Lola followed.
“I always want to start out on the right foot with new guys, but due to the nature of the situation, I need to make sure you’re not going to be weird about PDA or anything.”
Brandon realized he must have been staring. His face got hot. “No, god, of course not. Just… You two are cute. I’ve never been in love. You have such a beautiful life.”
They were jumbled thoughts, but they got the point across to Jackson, whose hackles went down. That shining smile came back. “We’re lucky.”
Ryan reappeared and got to work making a dense, protein-packed salad while Brandon and Jackson sat at the breakfast bar and watched. Ryan declined help, even though Brandon offered, and Jackson made him feel like Ryan took a lot of pride in his work. He seemed to like taking care of people.
“Um, I know this is weird,” Brandon said as they sat down at the kitchen table to eat, “but I have this friend, classmate, actually, who lives up here. And uh, I was wondering if it was cool if I went to go see him?” He’d been texting with Gabe ever since he’d said he was out of packing supplies.
He’d gotten the paper he needed in, though, and Brandon had offered to meet up so he wouldn’t have to ship them to Iowa.
“Oh, yeah, man, for sure. You can take my car,” Jackson offered.
“I was just going to get an Uber.”
“Do you have your license?”
“Yeah.”
“Then go for it,” Jackson said. “Keys are on the hook by the garage door. Let me know when you leave.”
“Thank you.”
“What kind of classmate?” Ryan asked, and Brandon told them about how he was slowly collecting credits, and how he had a creative writing class this semester.
He had his computer in his carry-on, and when he got back from seeing Gabe, he’d need to work on his homework.
Creative writing involved a lot more reading than he’d expected.
He and Gabe exchanged a few texts, including Gabe’s address and the fact that he was coming from a coffee shop shift, so he might not be home the second Brandon got there, and before he knew it, he was in Jackson’s white SUV, the directions up on the car’s navigation screen.
When he’d told Jackson he was going to see a friend, that was stretching it.
He and Gabe had texted a bit over the last week since Brandon ordered the prints, but it wasn’t like they were buddies.
Brandon asked a question about one of their readings.
Gabe told him he’d fallen asleep doing his homework the other night.
Still, Brandon kept pulling up his Instagram, because he could not get enough of those freckles.