#ive seen it from the front and they made James pretty...uh fit

[zimmerhomme]

boyfriend

patater, 2.7k, read on ao3

It's a large, crowded room with loud music and lights of every color. Alexei is buzzed, pleasantly so, and a little disoriented, if only for the backbeat thumping his head and heart, but his teammates are a grounding force. He reminds himself of this when Marty slings an arm around his shoulders.

"You having fun, Tates?" Marty grins at him, clinking their glasses together.

"Yes,” he replies unthinkingly, with a nod and a wide smile that he doesn't really have to force.

Marty laughs his big, hearty laugh and slaps his back patronizingly. "Good, good!" he says, before leaving him in his corner to mingle with some of Zimmboni's (incredibly loud) former teammates.

The wedding had gone by incredibly quickly, and the reception even more so. Zimmboni had cleaned up remarkably well (not that Alexei had expected any less, really), looking quite dashing in his khaki suit (Armani, he had giddily mentioned earlier, and Alexei had taken note just because of how out-of-character it was). Bitty was styled as impeccably as ever, his blond hair perfectly coiffed, looking debonair in midnight blue. The venue was stunning, just lakeside in Alberta, the summer weather perfect, their vows were sickeningly sweet, the speeches were hilarious, the food afterwards was gastronomic, the drinks were overflowing, and the company was great. Really, Alexei was having a great time.

Well. Except for one little thing.

One little thing that seemed to be dancing in slow motion all the way across the room, cowlicked blonde hair flashing red, blue, green. One little thing dressed in a classic black tuxedo that fit him too well for his own good, and flitted from table to table all through the night like the social butterfly he is. One little thing that caught his eye the minute he stepped into the venue and hadn’t left his mind since. One little thing he’s been secretly crushing on for months (years, even, maybe) but didn’t really see the point in acting on because he was so out of his league it was ridiculous.

The one little thing he can’t seem to get alone.

It’s not for lack of trying, though. Alexei had tried to nonchalantly insert himself in conversation after conversation where the Aces star forward had been even remotely included, but always ended up too tongue tied to actually say anything of substance before someone else engaged him properly. He’d been working up his courage all night to just go up to him and ask to dance, when he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Tater! What are you doing just standing in the corner?” It’s none other than Jack Zimmermann, with none another than a slightly amused Kent Parson in tow. Shit.

“I’m, uh...” He wracks his brain for some acceptable excuse for daydreaming at his teammate’s wedding reception. “Just is waiting for…” he trails off, coming up with nothing. “Next song?”

“Mhm, sure you are.” Jack raises an eyebrow at him just as Kent reaches them. “Hey, Tater, this is Parse. Parse, Tater. You’ve met before, right?”

Not properly, he wants to say as Kent Parson flashes him a winning smile, white light flashing on his face right on cue to reveal a smattering of freckles on his nose. He’s gorgeous, is what Alexei thinks. Does he have a boyfriend?

I could be his boyfriend.

He wants to smack himself for thinking it. He wants to smack himself for actually contemplating asking it.

He's an idiot.

“It’s Kent, actually," he says, reaching a hand out for him to shake and smiling warmly.

He's a goner.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he wants to ask. "Alexei," he says instead as he takes his hand. “But Tater ok too. Nice to finally meet you off ice.” He’s smiling so hard he’s sure his jaw will ache at the end of the night.

Kent grins back. “Hey, Zimms,” he says, his eyes never leaving Alexei, “I think Bitty wants you by the cake table.”

Jack looks over his shoulder to check, and Alexei can just see Bitty, yes, holding court by the cake table, and yes, watching them from all the way across the room with an amused look on his face. Jack looks back at them with a dopey smile on his face, and Alexei knows he’s already gone. “Have fun, guys,” he says distractedly before he claps Kent on the back and practically waltzes over to his husband. It dawns on Alexei too late that he didn’t even get to congratulate his teammate.

When they’re alone, Kent doesn’t seem to hesitate to hold his hand out to Alexei with a devilish look on his face. “I think the next song’s just started.”

Alexei stares at Kent’s hand, the same hand he had shaken just a second ago, marveling at how small it was when it fit quite snugly in his own, before realizing he could just take it again. He does.

He looks back up from their hands to see that Kent’s already turned his back, pulling him onto the dance floor. Alexei is not Jack, so he knows the song. It’s the Bruno Mars single from a few years ago—a little slow for his taste, but still pretty good. He wasn’t really sure what it was about the first time he heard it, just knew that leaving Versace on the floor seemed like a waste of good money, but it was a perfectly catchy song so he figured he could let loose. Kent stopped smack-dab in the middle of the crowd and made his own space, rolling his hips and swinging his arms but never letting go of his hand. Alexei notes how sexual the song actually is when Kent starts lip-syncing with feeling, and he follows his lips carefully, as if he were watching tape.

He tries to wrack his brain for something to do, something to say, but for some reason, all that comes to him are a couple of movies from the 1980’s that he watched with Jack and Bitty over the past couple of weeks, because they seemed to be the only kind of movies those two really agreed on. Breakfast Club, Fast Times. But this isn’t detention, nor does he have a copy of Led Zeppelin IV just conveniently stashed in his suit jacket, so he’ll have to make do. Anyway, he’s not really sure if he can put on the moves on Kent Parson, because he doesn’t even know if he has a boyfriend.

Kent wiggles his eyebrows at him playfully—a challenge, Alexei is sure, and he is not one to back down from a good challenge, so he takes Kent’s other hand and pulls him in close. He can do this, he thinks. He’s out, Kent’s out. Jack just got married to another man, for fuck’s sake, and they’re at a party with close (not to mention supportive) friends and family. This is allowed. Unless he has a boyfriend, which seems a little unlikely at this point. Alexei thinks he’ll take his chances.

Kent seems surprised at their sudden closeness, but does nothing to put space in between them. “Smooth,” he says into his ear.

Alexei has to remind himself not to shudder. “I’m like in movies,” he tells him. “Like Bond. James Bond, you know.”

Kent laughs, and if Alexei had to choose only one sound to hear for the rest of his life, it would be Kent’s absolutely ridiculous laugh. “Okay, James Bond, show me what you’ve got.”

They dance together, trying to match the rhythm of the song and of each other. Alexei feels ridiculous, loose-limbed, and just inebriated enough to not care. Kent, Alexei discovers, seems to have no concept of self-consciousness. He dances like no one’s watching, yet it’s a performance all the same. He briefly recalls another one of the movies he’d seen recently, one of Bitty’s favorites, and wonders if he’d be able to lift Kent Dirty Dancing style. He’s pretty sure he can.

He doesn’t.

“Let’s just kiss ’til we’re naked,” Bruno Mars sings. “Versace on the floor!” Kent belts, eyes shut and fists to his chest. “Do you have a boyfriend?” Alexei wonders, slowly losing his own mind watching the boy in front him lose himself in the song.

They dance to more songs, fast and slow, old and new, and they talk— in whispers, in shouts over the music, in giggles and snickers and small, calculated touches—until they’re both sweaty and smiley and a little more comfortable, and then Kent grabs his hand and leads him outside. Alexei follows him. Frankly, Alexei would follow him wherever he could.

Kent slumps down on the stairs leading up to the entrance carelessly, patting the space beside him. “Here,” he says. He sounds completely sober, Alexei notes, before taking his seat on the steps beside Kent. Kent scoots over until they’re thigh-to-thigh, until Kent is close enough to rest his head on Alexei’s shoulder.

“‘M tired, but that was fun,” Kent mumbles into his shoulder. “Wait, is this okay?"

Alexei is too distracted by the feeling of Kent leaning on him and the warm tingles in his fingertips to register his question, so he only manages to nod. Kent nods into his shoulder again. He can’t think of anything to say, so he just stares into space until Kent speaks up again. Just wonders if Kent has a boyfriend, and if he did, what kind of horrible things he’ll have to endure if he somehow manages to see them like this.

“I want what they have,” Kent says eventually, and it rings in Alexei’s ears.

“Me too,” Alexei tells him truthfully after a pause. “Seems so easy, no? Zimmboni and his baker... Like in movies, you know, like love each other and then that’s all.” He sighs. For all the movie references he’s tried to pull up tonight, he’s not sure any of them really payed off. “Is not really easy like they are.” The words tumble out of him before he can stop them, which definitely means they’re all true. He wishes his broken English comes off as at least understandable to Kent, because he’s not really the type to nonchalantly share his insecurities with people he’d just met, even those he’d been crushing on from afar for the better part of three years.

Kent exhales loudly. “I just—I always thought it’d be me, y’know?” He laughs—not bitterly, but it’s a close thing. “I mean. I don’t want Jack. Not anymore, but I didn’t realize how wrong I was for him until I saw how right Bitty was. That sucked. Like, big time. Maybe I’m just not right for anyone.”

Alexei turns to look at him properly, concern filling his features. “You are right for someone,” he insists.

Kent meets his eyes, and Alexei sees just how tired Kent might be for the first time all night. “Yeah, okay,” Kent says half-heartedly, nuzzling back into Alexei’s shoulder.

Alexei knows he’s falling and he’s falling hard. He’s not sure how long he’s wanted this, wanted a real shot with Kent, and now that he has it… It all just seems too good to be true. Like all of a sudden, it is just that easy. It’s as easy as watching Kent dance from across the room, and then from five inches away from him. It’s as easy as shooting a puck into an empty net, as easy as the easy slide of his skates on ice. It’s as easy as taking Kent’s hand, for the nth time that night, and being pulled back up onto his feet.

“Where we go?” Alexei asks Kent, who all of a sudden has a mischievous smile on his face.

“To the lake,” Kent says, and Alexei doesn’t question him twice.

They break off running, hands still linked, and Kent’s laugh reverberates through the cold summer air.

The lake is beautiful, even at night, and, more importantly if you were to ask Alexei, it was deserted. Alexei watched in a mix of awe and disbelief when Kent hurriedly started toeing off his shoes, and then pulling off his socks and rolling up his pants. Kent looks back at him with a smile and a quick quirk of his eyebrows.

Alexei can feel a laugh bubbling in his chest. He snorts his disapproval. “Is too cold, Kent,” he says with a shake of his head. “I am not sure feet will make out alive.”

Kent scrunches his eyebrows in defiance, muttering something Alexei can barely understand (something about “making out”?), but he sits by the edge with his legs in a pretzel so that his feet don’t touch the water. Alexei finds it endearing.

They resume position once Alexei has claimed his spot beside Kent, with Kent lightly resting his head on Alexei’s shoulder. They talk—about how beautiful the view is from here, about Jack and Bitty, about hockey. Alexei chirps Kent about getting too cold too quickly, and when he takes Kent's hands in his to warm them, Kent chirps him about his freakishly large hands.

“Seriously, Tater. How can you even eat Pringles with those things?”

Alexei shrugs. “I’m not liking them very much,” he answers truthfully.

Kent gasps and clutches his chest. “That’s scandalous, Mashkov. You should be ashamed.”

The grin on Alexei’s lips widens considerably. “I am more ashamed for you. Cannot handle this cold, what kind of hockey player!”

Kent shakes his head, smiling, and looking down at their hands, which makes Alexei look down at their hands, too. There’s a lull in their conversation for the first time in a while, and Alexei is back to square one.

He knows what he wants to ask. It's simple. Just an inquiry, really. Yes-or-no. Something he’s wanted to ask since he first laid eyes on him. There's only one question that burns in the back of his mind, but he can't seem to find a good way to segue into it.

Maybe he should just say it. Just to get it over with. Maybe he's overthinking this. It's such a simple question. It requires such a simple answer. It's—

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he blurts out loud finally, clear and concise, impossible for anyone to have misheard.

Well. There it is.

Kent Parson looks stunned. Alexei is wondering how many trucks will have to run over him before he actually dies.

“Um, no?” Kent frowns in confusion, a look of horror slowly filling his features. “Do you?”

“No! No, is just…” Alexei doesn’t know what to say anymore. He’s weird mix of horror and desperate relief. “I’m just. I’m not wanting to make moves on someone who—who is dating someone else.”

Kent squints at him in response, and for a second, Alexei actually contemplates “accidentally” falling on a knife. No one will know it was an accident, and really, Alexei’s a pretty good actor, he’s pretty sure he could pull it off—

But Kent Parson busts out laughing. “Alexei,” he sputters out, clutching his stomach and heaving breaths, “What—the fuck! I’ve been flirting with you all night. I held your hand. I danced with you. I asked Jack fucking Zimmermann, my fucking ex-something, who got married today, by the way, to introduce us just so I could talk to you properly!” He’s calmed down a little and sounds a little hysterical, and a little relieved. “You think I’d do all that if I had a boyfriend? What do you take me for?”

Alexei hides behind his hands in shame. "I'm sorry. I'm not wanting to make angry—"

"No!" All the color drains from Kent's face in a second. "No, Tater, I—I'm not mad!" He laughs nervously, running a shaking hand through his unruly hair. "This is—well. It’s kinda funny, don’t you think?” He glances at Alexei, cracking a smile. “I mean, I thought I was being pretty obvious tonight, to be honest.”

Alexei releases a sigh of relief. He feels around for Kent's hand and takes it in his own. “I am wanting to ask all night,” he admits. “It’s… I'm wonder a long time.”

Kent laughs, head thrown back and all, squeezes Alexei’s fingers, and smiles at him. “Well, you don’t have to wonder much longer.”

Alexei can’t handle himself with Kent looking up at him like this. He can’t help the question that pops in his head. I want to kiss him. Can I kiss him?

Kent answers his question for him before he can even ask.

His answer is yes, and Alexei is ecstatic.