Ghost

“Oh, fuck. It’s Hayden.” 

The look Ilya gives him is utterly offended. 

“He just had a baby, I haven’t talked to him in weeks,” Shane argues, swiping his thumb across his phone screen to answer the call. Ilya groans. “Hey, buddy.” 

“Hey! Is this a good time?” Hayden asks, voice cheerful and tinny from the receiver. 

“Yeah, uh—uh, how’s, um…” 

“I haven’t spoken to you in, like, a month,” he goes on, talking over Shane’s stammering. “I mean, the season ended and you just… vanished.” 

“I know, I’m so sorry.” 

Ilya rolls his eyes and flops back onto the couch, only to crunch back up a moment later to crush a sneeze into his fist. And then, because he’s Ilya, another double, and one more after a moment’s hesitation. Shane glances over to mouth bless you at him, and Ilya waves him off. He’s been sensitive all day, nose twitchy and pink around the edges from irritation, and he’s not been able to go more than fifteen minutes without sneezing. He’s blamed it on the (in his words) “stupid fucking Canadian foliage,” and while he’s taken a dose of antihistamines, they’ve not kicked in yet. Or aren’t doing shit. Come to think of it, they’re probably expired. 

He shifts his attention back over to Hayden, resolving to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Part of him squeezes guiltily at the thought of trying to head off his best friend, but he and Ilya don’t really get to have time with each other. It’s always a calculation, and now that they’re not fighting the rest of the world to be together, he doesn’t want anything to interfere. 

“But how’s—Amber, right? How is she?” He slaps Ilya’s hand away when he starts walking his fingers up his thigh, then glares at him. If he can just wait five minutes… 

Ilya brings his hand up to rub at his nose again, and immediately flinches into his chest with two sneezes, and then a third after a moment’s hesitation. His jaw drops slightly, eyes hazy, and fuck, he’s not done. 

“She’s doing great!” Hayden is saying, and from his voice, it’s clear that he’s beaming. “Perfectly healthy, and just adorable. You got the pics I sent you, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, the pics are cute.” 

Next to him, Ilya chokes through another silent triple. He’s flushed a faint pink from embarrassment across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his eyes starting to water from allergic irritation, and his tongue is poking out of his mouth just slightly as he squints vaguely. 

“She’s been feeding really well, too. Latching consistently and everything; she’s been much easier than Arthur.” 

“Aw, good, good,” says Shane, angling his torso away from Ilya and doing his best to ignore the apparent allergy attack occurring five feet from him. “And, uh, Jackie’s good, too?” 

“Yeah! Definitely tired, but nothing unexpected.” 

“Is it better than, um…” 

Ilya, having decided that he does, in fact, need Shane’s attention immediately, weaponizes the downtime between sneezing and moves closer to Shane, pressing his face into the back of Shane’s hoodie and making a soft whining noise that makes him grit his teeth. 

Oblivously, Hayden continues talking. “This is going much better than Arthur’s, yeah. Jackie’s been in touch with her doctor about it, so…” 

Whatever else he says disappears under the static that consumes his mind once Ilya twitches with another fit, mashing his nose directly into Shane’s spine and apparently relying on the fabric to muffle the sound for him. “h’Mptsh! mp’tsHh–tshh! mK’iew!” 

“Oh my God,” Shane exhales. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, no, I–I remember that, that was a tough time,” Shane chokes out. “Look, Hayd, I’m so sorry, but I–I’ve gotta run, I’m supposed to be handling a couple of things for my mom—” 

“No, yeah, of course! Just text me when you actually have time, I’ll make sure you can talk to Ruby and Jade, too.” 

“That’d be great. Talk to you later.” 

He cannot hang up fast enough. Shane twists and is met with an eyeful of amused, albeit allergic, Russian. 

“Not very Canadian of you,” he observes. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” 

“Oh, it’s my fault that my immune system does not like your country’s stupid plants?” 

“Ilya.” 

“Shane,” he repeats, mocking. It’s undercut by another little gasp, and then Ilya raises his fist and ducks into it with a set of itchy, utterly ineffective half-stifles. “ihy’schh–tshh–shh’uh! kh’gKT!” 

“Bless—” 

“gk’TSH’uh! ih’yshh–shh–shhiu!” 

“Bless—” 

“TSHH! hy’KSHH—eh’tshh!” 

“Are you done?” 

Ilya sniffles. “Mbaybe.” 

Shane raises his eyebrows. 

November, 2013

Cleo M

18:23 On my way!

18:24 *omw Autocorrect lol

Hayden stared at the texts on his phone screen, sat in a little armchair in the corner of his hotel room. When Cliff gets here, this will be their fifth hook up.

He could admit, it was exciting to keep this secret. He did feel like a traitor for fucking the enemy between games, but God did it make things more interesting. He was definitely the first to do something like this.

Hayden got up to do some stretches, leaving his phone on the chair. There was no need to stretch himself out, Cliff was the one to do that for him; he insisted every single time. The man had hands the sizes of hockey sticks, it worked out.

After Hayden's last nervous stretch, there was a knock at the door. Very light for the beast of a man that was behind the door.

Hayden stepped to the door, letting the man in. Hayden was worried that he would feel like a slum for wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Cliff was stood in sweatpants and a hoodie. Nice.

"I told you we'd beat you today," Hayden started the conversation, plopping down on his hotel bed so he could send a smug look to Cliff through his lashes.

Cliff let out a breathy scoff which turned into a chesty choke into his elbow, head bobbing with it.

Hayden stared, forehead creasing between his brows at the man across from him. "It wasn't that funny."

Cliff sniffled, catching his bearings as he cleared out his throat with a syrupy cough. "You're n'dot fu'ddy."

"Uh," Hayden said, the initial heat in his stomach slowly departing. "Why the fuck do you sound so weird?"

Cliff blinked, expression stone on his face as he eyed Hayden. "My tea'bm has a cold," Cliff paused to wipe his nose with a little crumpled tissue from his pockets that looked like it got passed around the whole team. "'S why you bea'dt us today. Go'dt off easy."

Hayden's eyes flickered somewhere else in the room, trying to make sense of the given information. "So you thought it would be a great idea.. to still come here? For sex? Are you kidding me?"

"Wha'dt?" Cliff mumbled, looking uncharacteristically sheepish as he attempted to catch Hayden's eye again. "I do'dn't see the pro'ble'bm."

"You don't see the problem?" Hayden mimicked with a hiss, truly dumbfounded. "I don't wanna catch that shit!"

Cliff frowned, looking as if he just found out what contagion is. "We jus'dt wod'n't kiss. N'do biggie."

Hayden grimaced, throwing his arms in the air in frustration. "Are you fucking stupid?"

Cliff blinked, shifting his weight on his feet as he stood there, taking the insults. "N'do.. chill.."

Hayden scoffed, stretching across his hotel bed to open the window. Was it a requirement for the Boston Raiders to be obnoxiously unaware of how germs spread?

"There's no way we're having sex. I can't risk that," Hayden laid it out, glancing back at the bigger man. Cliff was looking down at Hayden's tummy from where his shirt had rode up to open the window, glancing back up to his eyes as Hayden turned.

"Fi'dne," Cliff murmured, shrugging a little. "Blowjob?"

"Fuck no," Hayden spat, rubbing his eyes with the back of his wrists. "I don't want you snotting on my dick."

Cliff continued to frown, not a smile on his face the whole time he'd been in the room. "You give m'be o'dne, the'dn.."

"In your dreams, man," Hayden mumbled, blinking up at Cliff. Something in Hayden stuttered as he took a moment to look at Cliff's face. His eyes looked softer than usual. His nose was a comical shade of red, harsh against the tone of his skin. He looked.. lethargic. Worn out.

Hayden inhaled a big breath, feeling slightly guilty for how he'd treated the man who just wanted some attention. The man who drove himself here after losing a home game — with a nasty cold — just for Hayden. The man who hadn't spat an insult back like he normally would. "Have you taken something for your cold?"

"Mmbh," Cliff reached into the right pocket of his sweatpants, pulling out a little vial of DayQuil cold medicine. "Bee'dn ta'kging this."

Hayden swiped the medicine from the mans hand, reading over the label. Hayden frowned suddenly, looking up at Cliff through furrowed brows. "This expired in 2010. It's 2013."

"Oh, uhbm," Cliff sniffled, pursing his lips. "Whoops. Aha.."

Hayden shook his head a little, getting on his feet to look through his own bag under his bed. Thank god for choosing an overthinking best friend like Shane. Hayden got out what he was looking for, holding his bottle of Buckley's out for Cliff to see.

"Alcohol?" Cliff cocked his head at the Canadian medicine like a dog, sniffling thickly. "Right o'dn."

"Medicine," Hayden corrected, snapping off the cap as he hadn't had to open it yet. He poured some into the cup cap for Cliff, holding it out to the man. "Drink, like a shot."

"Ger'mbs.." Cliff mumbled as if it was a question, eyeing the cap.

Hayden frowned. "It's fine, I'll wash the cap." Fuck, Hayden was an asshole. Now the man was thinking about germs after being yelled at.

Cliff held the cap off Hayden, taking the medicine like a shot as told. He grimaced lightly, keeping hold of the cap. "I'll clea'dn i'dt."

"It's alright," Hayden murmured, taking the cap from Cliff's fingers. "Just.. lie down or something."

Hayden stood, stepping into the connected bathroom to give the cap a rinse. Once the cap was screwed back on, Hayden returned to see Cliff sat on the floor with his back against the hotel bed.

"I thought I told you to lie down," he mumbled, leaving the bottle of Buckley's on the desk by the television.

"I'bm good," Cliff replied, tightening the strings of his hoodie. "I go'dt n'datural pillows."

"Well, suit yourself," Hayden shrugged, seating himself on the bed next to where Cliff's head was. "So, your coach let you play like this?"

Cliff nodded, knuckling at his nose subtly. "Yeah, he did. Cap didn'dt wa'dnt any of us ou'dt. Coach listens to hi'bm."

"Man, fuck him." Hayden sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Rozanov is an asshole for that. And many other things, but."

"He's no'dt so bahhhd.. hh.." Cliff hitched a little, hands grasping at the neck of his hoodie so he could bring it over his nose. "hH-H'RRSSHHuu! uRRRSShhjjww! RJJDDZZ'HHWWGgh.."

"Jesus, shut the fuck up," Hayden hissed down at Cliff, eyes wide. "My teammates are next-door."

Cliff produced an unproductive sniffle, glancing up at Hayden with his hoodie still held over his nose. "So?"

"So, they'll recognize your sneezes!" Hayden spat, as if it was terribly obvious.

"They won'dt," Cliff scoffed weakly, feeling like a burden with every minute he spent in this hotel room. "Tha'dt's stu'bid."

Hayden stood to stretch out his stress, rubbing at his forehead. "I can't believe you played like this. You shouldn't play tomorrow."

Cliff shrugged, not feeling up for another argument tonight. "It's u'bp to Roz."

"He's your pal, right? Just talk to him or something," Hayden said, sitting himself back down on the bed.

Cliff sniffled, shaking out his hair. "Mm, yeah. He'd probably le'dt us to'bhorrow. Agai'dst Thham'bpa.. easy. Hh- hih! G'nna s'deeze," Cliff warned, blindly feeling around the floor next to him for his tissue. Cliff grabbed the first thing he felt under Hayden's hotel bed, shoving it up to his nose.

"No, no — not my — !"

"Ktt'rRRSHHwwGgh! Kihh'tssSHHRRgghh! Hih — hhHK'hiht'rRSHHDDJjzzw!" Cliff sneezed into the material balled up into his hands, his sneezing not allowing him to breathe between them.

"Oh my fucking god." Hayden mumbled somewhere behind Cliff, eyeing the man on the floor with a grimace.

Cliff coughed a little, taking the material away from his nose. He straightened out the material, realizing that it was a Metros shirt. The logo was now.. thoroughly used. Cliff let out a stuffy laugh at the sight of it.

"Man, fuck you. You're fucking disgusting," Hayden groaned out, moving off his bed. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Cliff balled up the shirt so his mess was contained, keeping the shirt in his hand. "N'do, asshole! I trie'dt to b'he quie'dd." Cliff looked up at Hayden, his brown eyes shining under the cheap light.

Hayden let out a dramatic sigh, bending down to snatch the balled up shirt from Cliff's stupid hands. Hayden threw the shirt in a little plastic bag that he kept for laundry. "You should have told me to come to you or something. I would have declined, but it's better than going out sick."

Cliff stretched his legs out on the floor, rolling his ankles. "I ha'be two roo'b'ates."

"Can't afford a place of your own?" Hayden chirped, eyeing the man on his hotel floor.

Cliff shrugged, closing his eyes for a moment. "I pay their ren'dt. M’by brothers," Cliff babbled, not looking at Hayden. "-a'dt tuitio'dn."

Hayden blinked, not expecting that. They never talk about anything personal with each-other. "Why would you do that?"

Cliff blinked, lazily scrubbing at his nose. "'Cuz I wan'dda? They're m'by brothers. I a'bm rich."

Hayden shifted his weight on his feet, taking in the information. "That's.. nice of you. Surprisingly."

"I ca'd be nice, you know tha’d," Cliff mumbled with a sniffle, stretching out his weirdly long arms. "You live alo'de?"

Hayden gave a nod, adjusting his shirt on his shoulders. "Got a place in Montreal.. obviously. Close to the rink."

Cliff made a little noise in his throat, which Hayden took as a scoff. Before Hayden could retaliate, Cliff was hitching again. Oh. So he wasn't scoffing..

Hayden winced, anticipating the loud sounds before they started. Cliff continued hitching, hands shielding his face.

After about 30 seconds of pure hitching, Cliff groaned, hands dropping down to his lap. He looked weirdly humiliated. "Los'dt it."

"Bummer," Hayden snickered a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you usually sneeze this much with colds? Or, try to?"

Cliff nodded, puffing his cheeks. "Fu'gck, nor'bally a lot more. This o'de has me stuffed."

Hayden hummed in thought, feeling guilty for being such a bitch to Cliff. He couldn't help it. "Remember our first meeting? The hotel bar. Nashville."

Cliff grinned a little, recalling the event. "Mmh, yeah. Yu'bp. Wha'd abou'd it?"

Hayden rubbed at his chin, eyeing his suitcase. "I was wearing that one cologne.. you hated it. Remember? We had to go outside to talk because you got all.." Hayden trailed off, making a gesture to his nose.

Cliff bent his knees to plant his feet on the floor, patting his knees. "Tha'dt was stro'g s'duff!"

Hayden pursed his lips. "Well, I have that in my suitcase. I still wear it sometimes, not around you though."

Cliff eyed Hayden's suitcase, not able to catch up. "Okay.. n'diceee.."

Hayden scoffed a laugh, shaking his head a little. "Nice? Fuck, do I have to spell this out for you?"

Cliff blinked up at Hayden like a wet rat in a cold alleyway, looking back at Hayden's suitcase. "Oooh.. it, uh. You wan'dt to — hel'bp?"

Hayden nodded, eyes wide with sarcasm. "You're so smart. So smart."

"Fucki'd bully," Cliff mumbled, shaking his head. "Okay, wha'dever. How do we do t'hhis?"

"Alright," Hayden took a breath. "Just — get on the bed. Take off your disgusting outside clothes."

Cliff frowned, looking down at his outfit. He started toeing off his shoes, pulling his hoodie over his head. Cliff moved himself up to sit on the bed once he was left in his sweatpants and black vest.

Hayden was crouched over his suitcase, holding the cologne in his hand. Ralph Lauren Polo Black. "Wait, shit, I don't wanna mess you up even more or something. Will your throat swell?" Hayden eyed Cliff, standing straight with the cologne in hand.

Cliff shook his head, lapping his dry lips. "N'do, it won'dt swell. C'mo'd. Hel'bp me."

Hayden made a sound of contentment, stepping into the bathroom to get a spare roll of toilet roll for.. the inevitable mess.

"I know this isn't what you had in mind when coming here, but," Hayden said, coming out of the bathroom to step to the bed. "You'll probably feel.. way better. Hopefully."

Cliff sniffled, sitting crisscrossed at the head of the bed. Hayden moved to sit at the centre. Cliff eyed the man in-front of him, the closest they had been all day.

"Alright, you ready?" Hayden asked, putting the roll of toilet roll between them. The cologne was beside Hayden.

Cliff squinted. "Will you co'blai'd about the 'doise?"

Hayden shrugged, shaking his head. "I don't even think the guys are in their rooms. Probably out.. partying or something. It's Boston."

"So I won'dt ge'dt yelled at agai'd.. n'dice."

Hayden made a face at that, reaching for the cologne. "Alright. Let's do it."

Cliff nodded a little, watching as Hayden spritzed the cologne on his wrist, neck, and t-shirt. "If it gets too much, just hop in the shower. There's a bunch of towels, it's crazy."

Cliff hummed, nodding although not really taking in the information. Their knees were practically touching now.

Cliff leaned in, taking a sniffly whiff of the crook of Hayden's neck.

"Whooohkay. Bold," Hayden mumbled, feeling Cliff's nose against his neck.

Cliff leaned back into his prior position, producing a little sniffle. "Uuf, yeah. I'b feeli'g i'dt."

"Sensitive." Hayden noted, surprised by how fast it hit.

Cliff ducked his head, giving his nose a little rub to satisfy the itch. The squelch that sounded throughout the room made Hayden feel almost sympathetic. The man sounded absolutely miserable.

Cliff desperately reached out, snatching some toilet roll and cupping it over his nose and mouth. "hHH' H! Hh — hHHHRRRUSHHhiue.. hooh.."

Hayden felt the bed shake with just one sneeze, raising his brows at the sight play out in-front of him. "Jesus, bless you. That's one."

Cliff blew his nose out in the same tissue, tossing it into the trash can he saw next to the bed. "Hh- hhHHI'DDTSShhh! H'RUSSSHHHooie! Agh, fu'gck!"

Hayden stared for a moment before quickly ripping more toilet roll for Cliff, passing him some. Cliff hadn't managed to cover that time, instead he baptised his own lap. Probably Hayden's too.

"Are you good?" Hayden mumbled, trying not to think about how he was in the spray zone. Cliff hadn't lifted his head.

"M'by ears are so fu'gging blo'ged.." Cliff managed, pressing the tips of his pointers into his ears.

Hayden reached out to grab his wrists, bringing the mans arms down from his ears. Pressing on them couldn't be good for him. "Hold your nose and swallow, they'll unblock. Hopefully."

Cliff obeyed, bringing a hand up to pinch his nostrils together. The man swallowed, followed by a quiver throughout his body. "Whoa, tha'dt was weird."

Hayden breathed out an amused sigh. "Did that work?"

Cliff nodded, closing his eyes from how much his nose tickled. He grabbed the toilet paper between them, ripping multiple squares off. "hHH! HHRRSHHOO! HrS!- HRRsshu! TDJJSHWW! HrR — RSSHWw!"

Hayden pursed his lips, watching as the man began to blow his nose again. "Jesus, you're worse than a zamboni. So loud."

Cliff smiled a little, taking a big breath. "I feel a little better."

Hayden nodded. "You sound better. I can actually comprehend what you're saying now."

Cliff sniffled lightly, shoving one of Hayden's knees. "Mm. Uh, thanks. For that."

"Yeah, whatever. It's cool," Hayden shook his head, making sure all of the tissues were in the trash. "You owe me a blowjob whenever you feel better."

"You bet." Cliff stretched out, flicking at his nose. "You were a little mean earlier, though."

"I can be meaner," Hayden scoffed, watching Cliff. "I'm.. yeah. I know I can be intense. You just — caught me off guard."

Cliff shook his head, pinching his nose. "Mm, that's fine. Your fuckin' cologne is still irritating me."

"Shit," Hayden moved himself off the bed, standing by the far wall. "Okay, I'm due a shower. Are you staying, or..?"

Cliff made a face, looking down at the trash can. "Ehh, nah. I should probably get home."

Hayden found himself nodding a little, although he didn't want Cliff to leave. "Ah. You got somewhere to be?"

Cliff hid a smile behind his hand, rubbing at his stubble. "No, not necessarily."

"I'll see you after my shower then." Hayden said, stepping into the attached bathroom before Cliff could muster a response.

—

After coming out of the shower, Hayden found Cliff curled up in the hotel bed.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you." Hayden snarked, fixing the towel tighter around his waist so he could bend down for his shirt.

Cliff peeped from the quilt, sniffling softly. "You took forever. Longer than a girl."

Hayden sent a lighthearted glare to the man, throwing on a Nike shirt. "I got a whole ass routine, alright? Shane helped me pick out some skin shit."

Cliff chuckled to himself, keeping watch over the quilt. "Yeah. You and your perfect skin. Perfect hair. Perfect everything. Get outta here."

Hayden threw his towel at Cliff, grabbing some sweatpants and boxers from his suitcase to wear. He never unpacks. "You get outta here."

Cliff rolled up the towel, tossing it to the foot of the bed. "C'mere."

Hayden obeyed, climbing into bed next to Cliff. Cliff handled Hayden, turning the man over by his waist so they were spooning.

Hayden was the first to talk after a while of comfortable silence. "This is really gay."

Cliff took a breath, rubbing his nose against the crook of Hayden's neck. "We're gay. If you hadn't noticed."

"You're gay?" Hayden mumbled, voice audibly softening throughout the evening.

Cliff hummed behind him, sniffling quietly. "I don't care for a label."

Hayden took Cliff's hand, feeling the callouses on his palms from his years of weightlifting. "I.. yeah. I might be bisexual. Or the other one — pan? Pansexual?"

Cliff nibbled at Hayden's shoulder, sniffling over the area he bit. "I've never heard of that one."

"It's 2013.. get with the times, man," Hayden mumbled, bending Cliff's fingers one by one. "It's listed on that 'You Can Play' campaign thing."

"Huh," Cliff mumbled, fingers curling around Hayden's. He couldn't really come up with a response with his upcoming- "h'httDshx!"

Cliff stifled against Hayden's shoulder, arms tensing where they held the other man.

"Bless you." Hayden mumbled, holding Cliff's hand.

"Mmm," Cliff sniffled, his congestion still thankfully loose. "Tired."