You latch onto him as soon as you're in his arms, pressing yourself to him, closer closer closer. “Hi,” you hear him mumble against the top of your head. 

“Hi, B,” you breathe back, barely audible over the chatter in the room. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, buttercup,” Brady beams down at you, squeezing your shoulders again. 

Your throat dries up as you stare up at him. You always loved the way his eyes crinkled shut when he smiled big like he was now. A tiny part of you wants to say fuck it and stand up on the tips of your toes to kiss him full on the mouth. You feel yourself swallow, your mouth opens and you want to get the words out, just like Matthew said you could. 

“Listen, Brady I-” 

“Y/N I want you to meet someone.” 

You and Brady spoke at the same time, and rather than let you finish your sentence, Brady lets you out of his arms, resting his hand against your lower back and leading you somewhere deeper into the house. 

“I want you to meet my friend,” he continues, “I know you haven't seen anyone since… but anyways, yeah I think you might like him.” Your lips remain parted, the words stuck in your throat. Of all the things you expected coming to the Tkachuk house tonight, of everything you could have thought might happen during your plan to confess your feelings to your best friend, an off-handed mention of your piece of shit ex-boyfriend and Brady attempting to set you up with someone was far from it.  

Your eyes are hazy, your focus far from the situation at hand, even as you let Brady introduce you to his friend. You barely remember the poor kid’s name, too caught up in trying to keep your shit together. Your eyes find Matthew’s, hating the sympathetic smile on his lips. 

You don't want his pity. It just makes you feel worse. You turn abruptly to Brady’s friend and stop him mid-sentence. “I’m really sorry,” you say, “I just don't think this is going to work out, I have my eyes on someone else.” He doesn't say anything as you walk away, bee-lining straight for Matthew. 

You grab his forearm, ignoring his protests when you drag him out to the backyard. 

“Why did he do that?” you say once you're outside. “Why did he introduce me to someone that I could date? What if you're wrong, Matty? What if he doesn't like me like you think he does?” 

Matthew didn't have an answer for that. He did know one thing though. 

“Then he’s an idiot, Y/N, and he can't see a good thing, a great thing, even when she's right in front of him.” You let out a wet laugh, trying your best not to read too deep into what Brady had tried to do tonight. Instead you let him tuck a strand behind your ear and pull you into a comforting hug, the both of you unaware of Brady’s eyes on you, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought of you two together. 

II.

Ottawa playing a game against Calgary meant you had to cancel any and all plans you had for that weekend. The whole Tkachuk family couldn't make it from St. Louis, but you living in Calgary made up for it. You were shaking with excitement - you hadn't seen Brady in a month and a half, since that horrible attempt at telling him how you felt. You hoped that this time would be different. 

The arms that wrap around your waist in the middle of the hotel lobby are all too familiar to alarm you. 

“Hi, buttercup,” comes the soft whisper, and you can't even attempt to fight the smile that pulls at your lips. 

“Hi, Brady,” you whisper back, feeling Brady loosen his hold on your so you could twist around in his grip. “You've been gone too long.” 

“Hmm, I know,” Brady hums, kissing your hairline gently. “I'm sorry I'm not visiting as much, you know it has nothing to do with you right?” 

“I know, Brady,” you reassure him. “I just miss you.” I love you. The thought is screaming in your head, begging for you to let out.

I love you I love you I love you

“Just say the three little words, Y/N, tell him how you feel.” Those were Matty’s words, just this morning when you had a crisis about seeing Brady again. You paced across the floor of his living room, the walls and tables all over his apartment covered in jerseys and odd paraphernalia he’d acquired over his time playing in the NHL.

“I can't, Matty, what if he,” you gasped for air at the idea, “what if he doesn't love me back, I don't think I could handle that.” 

Matt had laughed at you this morning, assuring that to the best of his knowledge (and he knew his brother pretty damn well), Brady was in love with you too. Besides, he'd said, even if he wasn't in love with you back there was nothing you could do to make him want to stop being friends with you. 

Brady pulls away from you, preparing to head to whatever restaurant you were supposed to meet Matthew at. 

“So, Brady, there was something that I-” 

“Hey, what's this?” Brady’s curious expression made you pause. He tugs the fabric of your sweater down a little by your chest, exposing your collarbone, and a dark purple mark you hadn't meant for anyone to see. Your blood runs cold, knowing exactly where that's from. 

Matthew had given it to you, when the both of you had gotten just a little too wine drunk and you'd ended up in his lap. It was ironic really, you'd been discussing how to drop more hints to Brady about how you feel about him. He'd been helping you with that dilemma since the summer. And then last Sunday, you'd been over at his place for dinner, and the night had ended with him grabbing handfuls of your ass while you whined desperately against his mouth. 

There was no way you could tell Brady how you felt now, not with him having just asked about the bruise his brother had left on your skin. 

“You and my brother finally getting it on?” Brady says suggestively, a shit eating grin on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You feel like a deer stuck in the headlights. 

“Why would you even say that?” you snap, ignoring the way he recoils, lips parted and eyes wide in surprise. “Come on we have to go meet your brother for dinner.” 

III. 

You and Matthew had bought your plane tickets home for Christmas together, deciding that it made more sense since you both lived in Calgary and were going home to the same neighborhood. Brady’s flight was coming in the day after. You’d been spending most of your time at the Tkachuk house, lounging around with Matthew. You’d hung around their house to stay out of your mom’s way, knowing having people around would only just stress her out as she prepared for your whole family to come home. 

Today was the day Brady’s flight was coming in. Chantal and Keith chose to spend the day out shopping before heading to the airport to pick up Brady late in the afternoon. Taryn was spending the day at her friend’s house, leaving you and Matthew alone in the house.

Which, you should have known it was a bad idea. You swore it was nothing between you and Matt, you swore it was just about Matt helping you get the guy, get Brady. But it seemed like the more you, Matt, and alcohol were all involved, you ended up in precarious positions. 

Today you chose not to drink, hooded eyes watching Matt take another drink of whatever liquor he’d chosen this time, before your gaze slid back to the pipe in your hand, lighter dangling between two fingers. You knew how this would end, you and Matt would get wasted, you’d fuck, rough, hard, fast, desperate, and then you would go back to pretending it never happened, went back to him helping you with getting Brady to notice your interest. You didn't talk about it, and you were almost always some kind of inhibited. 

You refused to fuck Matthew in his childhood bedroom, arguing that it was bad karma. He laughed at you then, a soft laugh, clear of any indication that Matt is drunk out of his mind. The laugh is too innocent of a laugh for the way his voice lowers after it ends. He talks you into it, seduces you more like. He’s got you sliding into the backseat of a beat up old Toyota Corolla, his first car (“And how exactly is that any better than your childhood bedroom, Matty?). He tells you that you have hours alone in the house before anyone comes home and you might as well pass the time. 

The talking and seducing turns into heated, sloppy kisses. You giggle against his mouth, tugging at the curls at the back of his head while avoiding the thought that you swore to yourself you would tell Brady how you felt when he got home tonight. But then Matthew’s lips trailed away from your mouth, over your jaw, your cheek, the curve of your throat, and any thought of Brady was gone. 

The messy kisses turned into you riding Matt, his old car rocking back and forth as you bounced on his dick. He kisses you to quiet his moans. No one was supposed to be home for hours but, just in case. He's got you whining desperately while you clench around him, his giant hands squeezing your hips. He guides you up and down on his cock, relishing in the way your body moves the way he wants without a fight. 

I bet Brady couldn't fuck you like I can. 

The thought flashes through his brain before he can stop it, and then it's like someone put a red tint on his world view. You belonged to him. Matthew’s possessive rage has him fucking harder into you, his hands falling from your hips to your ass to slam you forcefully down on him. Growls fall from his lips, the thought of his younger brother fucking you making him intent on bringing you to as many orgasms as possible. That thought is also what made his teeth come down on your skin. He sucks and bites into your skin all over your chest, leaving marks that would expose that you were having sex with someone to anyone who saw - that would expose you to Brady. 

You let out almost a squeal when you cum, clenching around Matthew’s cock and sobbing desperately. You don't see the smug grin on his face when he watches you cum, only letting him keep doing what he's doing because it just feels so damn good. 

Matt follows through on his mental promise, fucking you through as many orgasms as he could (5, the last time he checked, he lost count). His hands flex over your ass, sighing contentedly as he pulls you so that you sink all the way back down on his cock. He pulls you to his chest, nuzzling into you as the two of you doze off. 

Brady finds you that way, seeing the way you’re nuzzled into his brother’s chest through the windshield. The fact that he only saw you through the windshield protected him from seeing the most incriminating part, Matthew’s cock, still stuffed all the way inside of you. He can still see the bare skin of yours and Matt’s shoulders, so he opts out of waking you up, instead heading towards his room to shower off that airport smell and nap, a devastatingly pretty blonde attached to his hip. 

When you wake up, you feel groggy, but more sober than before. After you moaned pathetically when Matthew lifted you off of his cock, the two of you snuck back inside the house, managing to get you out the door and back to your house, and Matthew to his room. When you and your family made their way over for dinner later that night (the hickies and bruises on your skin successfully covered up), you feel your heart twist in your chest at what - or rather, who - greets you there. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Brady sounds so excited, so you humor him, hiding the way it feels like you're about to explode into a million little shreds. “This is my girlfriend, Autumn.” 

And - you really can't hate her. She's so nice, so incredibly kind and radiant and you really don't blame Brady for not taking his eyes off her the whole night. You didn't even know he was bringing her. Matthew catches your eyes, shaking his head sadly and mouthing I didn’t know. 

You shrug, your gaze falling back to the design on the carpet, how the spirals of each shape in the carpet almost mirror your heart, spiraling out and falling apart before your eyes. 

Matt’s gaze remains on you. Something about seeing your skin clear and bare after he had taken such good care to leave as many marks as possible didn't sit right with him. It made his gut twist; he wanted everyone to know. He wanted Brady to know. 

You hate the unpleasant feeling in your gut every time Autumn says something. And you really hate the way Brady smiles apologetically at you when you pulled him aside to say “You never told me you were seeing someone.” 

You just had to get through this night and then it was back to Calgary. 

IV.

Of all traditions your family has with Tkachuks, the vacations are your favorite. 

You're in California this offseason, renting a house in some random, tourist-attracting beach town. Both your families had always done something similar to this (letting the boys take care of a large chunk of it now that they're on NHL salaries), renting 2 houses and splitting you up between the parents and you and the Tkachuk kids once you were old enough. 

Brady had broken up with Autumn in May, which you couldn't be more thankful for, knowing that had that not happened she would've been on this vacation. “Nothing terrible happened,” he assured you over the phone that day. “She's an amazing girl, she really is, she's just...she's not the one for me.” 

You were glad he couldn't see the smile that pulled at your lips at those words.

As for Matthew...well, you'd barely done as much as look at him since Christmas, not wanting to fall back into the habit of sleeping with him whenever you managed to get drunk enough to forget Brady’s existence for half a second. 

But now Brady and Taryn are at the beach, meeting up with some friends they somehow convinced to drive up from Orange County, and you were laying outside in the rented house’s backyard on one of the pool chairs. You’d opted to stay home this time, having spent almost every minute of this vacation attached to Brady at the hip. 

It was pathetic, almost, the way you followed him around. Matt thought so, at least. What he thought was even more pathetic though, was the way Brady had the perfect fucking woman in front of him - pining after him even - and he still couldn't see it, no matter how hard you and Matt tried to make him. 

Matt hates that he finds himself wishing that the whiny voice you used to get Brady to do things you wanted was following him around instead, like the incessant bug he'd teased you about being when you whined for the millionth time to Brady that it was hot. 

Brady had looked at you all soft in the moment, leaning down to kiss your forehead before placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “Not hot enough for you not to cuddle with me,” he’d said, your giggles prompting him to tickle your sides until you'd both forgotten about your complaining. 

“Y/N, you left your water bottle outside,” Matthew says abruptly, adding on a “by the way” so you two would stop staring at him like he interrupted something. Like he wasn't even supposed to be there. 

“Oh,” the realization makes you frown, and the pout that accompanies your furrowed brows almost make him combust from how cute you look. “Didn't know you noticed I left it out there.” 

Brady keeps his arm around you as he lets you take him back outside for the water bottle, making you miss the way Matt whispers “I always notice.”

- 

You briefly wondered what Matthew was doing, before the question was answered for you by a soft sensation against your knee. His lips trailed up your thigh, nosing at your skin before pressing another open-mouthed kiss into your thigh, making your eyes flutter open briefly. It's hot, your skin feels like it's on fire, buzzing, like you're vibrating from the inside out. 

Even with the sun washing over you the way that it is, the fire you feel on your tanned skin, Matthew’s lips make you burn. He makes you ache, the way he hasn't touched you like this in months. 

“Everyone is gone for the day,” he murmurs against you, kisses becoming more frequent across your hips. “All of them. I could fuck you and make you scream and no one would know.” His words make you shudder, your back arching as his lips traveled upwards, teeth coming out to mark you up all over your tits. “So pretty like this baby, when I mark you up like that.” 

You know that if you don't stop him now, Matt will get you in his bed - he would get you in his bed and then from there he'd take you apart with his fingers, his cock, his mouth. Then he’d use that same damn mouth that got you into bed with him to talk you into staying there. And as much as you love Brady… you can't resist him. You place your hand on his shoulder, his skin is warm, and it takes everything out of you to push him away. 

“Matty, stop, Matthew, stop it.” Suddenly you can feel the sun back on your skin, Matthew having retreated from you completely. 

“What's wrong?” he says softly, “Please, what did I do?” 

“Nothing,” you lie, closing your eyes again so you wouldn't have to look at him as you say your next words. “I'm telling Brady how I feel. Tonight. No matter what happens I’m telling him tonight.” 

“Oh. Good luck, then, I guess.” That's all Matthew says, then there's a shuffling noise and silence. Then the slam of the sliding door to the kitchen. 

You shift uncomfortably and turn your thoughts back to Brady. 

It’s later, when you’re curled up against Brady’s chest with a random movie playing on tv that you get cold feet. It’s just you and him, on the couch of the first floor of the house. Matthew is God knows where, and Taryn still hadn't gotten back from her friend’s house. This moment on the couch with him is perfect, it feels so domestic. You don't want to ruin this moment by telling him how you feel, and potentially - probably - being rejected. 

You promised yourself. 

You take a deep breath, ready to blurt out those three little words, and then - 

“So, you and my brother huh?” Brady murmurs, eyes remaining trained on the action scene on the screen in front of him. “I know you got defensive last time I mentioned it but you guys are good together, and I'm glad you finally see it.”

You feel like you can't breathe, your throat choking up. You want to cry, yell, scream, something to just let him know that you love him. 

“Actually, Brady -”

“Hey, don't worry it’s okay,” Brady laughs, reassuring you and pulling you closer to squeeze you. “I promise, I've seen you with him, and I think you guys are good together, don't worry about it.” You fall silent, not really knowing how to work your way out of this one. 

“We’re not together,” you say quietly, and you had the way Brady’s hum of acknowledgment sounds like he doesn't believe you. You give up on telling him tonight.

+1 

The expression on Brady’s face drops when he meets your eyes across the table. You were just so tired. And you knew that he could see it in your face. What with work absolutely kicking your ass, to the point where you were barely able to get this week off to come home to St. Louis. It’s the end of summer, which means you and Brady were about to go through months of hectic schedules and voicemails that say “Hey, sorry I just missed your call, life has been crazy lately.” Your gaze falls from the lines of Brady's face to the seat at his right side.

Autumn smiles at you, and you hate the way the warmth that radiates from her feels like a knife twisting deeper into your gut. You hate yourself for how much you hate Autumn, you know she doesn't deserve it. Brady catches your eye again, a brief flash of recognition sliding across his face before it's gone. You'd been avoiding him for the past three days since you got here, and you almost felt guilty for it. 

Matt’s hand gripping your thigh draws your attention away from Brady. He squeezes your thigh, smiling reassuringly at you and bumping your shoulder gently. It’s when Autumn finally stands from the table, smiling sweetly at Keith and Chantal, that you release the breath you'd been holding in all night. Brady says he's going to walk her out, a car waiting for her outside to take her to the airport back to Ottawa. 

You don't fight it when Matthew tells you to head downstairs and he and Taryn could take care of the cleaning up. You curl up on the couch in the basement, stealing Matt’s Flames hoodie off the back of a chair and a blanket from the closet. Your eyes flutter shut to the muted noises of the dishes clinking together. 

You let your eyes flutter closed, only opening them again when you feel a warm heat slide in beside you. You hum when Matt kisses your temple softly. 

“You okay?” he nudges you gently, stealing the end of your blanket to cover his legs. 

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow your face is half-buried in. You know Matthew knows better than to believe your blatant lie, but you're okay with the way he chooses to move past it and not make you talk about it. 

The two of you lounge on the couch silently, Matt switching on some Netflix show he’d been watching after you heard Taryn say she was going to bed. You tried not to think about how long Brady was taking upstairs with Autumn. 

They'd gotten back together over the summer, she’d reached out to him before he left for the off season, which he failed to mention until it was nearly over. Against both yours, Matthew’s, and Taryn’s advice, Brady had bought a plane ticket back to Ottawa, saying that he might as well give it a shot. 

Matthew had held you when you cried that night, Taryn bringing the two of you water and food when it was clear you weren't leaving his room, much less his arms. 

He wanted to hold you right now too, god how he wanted to hold you. But he couldn't, not with Brady due back any second from waiting out front for Autumn's ride. He couldn't risk Brady seeing the two of you, not again. 

Brady had made comments here and there about Matt’s relationship with you. No matter how much Matt insisted that the two of you weren't involved, Brady wasn't convinced, insisting that he was okay with it. 

But right now, in this moment, he wanted to believe him. Matt’s hands ached to touch you, hold you, draw patterns on your skin, he yearned for it. He wanted - he needed to make sure that you knew that everything was going to be okay. Just as his resolve starts to crumble, his hands twitching in his lap as he begins to reach for you, a voice comes from the stairs. 

“We should talk - right?” Brady is talking to you, making you open your eyes to look at him. “Like - things are weird, have been weird, and we have to talk about it right?” 

You nodded silently, shifting in your spot so that you're sitting up, any physical contact you had with Matt now lost. “Yeah,” your voice comes out small, a whisper, and then stronger, firmer. “Yeah, we need to talk.” 

This is it.

The silence in the room is almost unbearable, and you're unable to choke the words out. Brady stares at you, while you stare down at your hands. Matt refuses to look at either of you, gaze trained on the wall behind the TV, jaw clenched so tightly that if your eyes were on him you'd tell him he was about to break his teeth. 

“Is this about you and Matt?” The words come out of nowhere, and it feels like you've been slapped. 

“What?” Matt’s head snaps towards Brady, as does yours.

“No, really,” Brady says, “Did you guys break up oh something?

“What are you talking about Brady?” You can't stop the frustration from seeping into your voice. “That's not what this is -” 

“‘Cause you know I’m okay with you guys together,” Brady continues obliviously, “I keep telling both of you that it's fine but I don't get why you insist on-” 

“Oh my god you idiot!” Matt’s outburst shuts Brady up pretty quickly, leaving the younger brother staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Matt looks at you and his eyes are sad, regret and apologies already written all over his face for what he's about to say next. “She's in love with you.” 

He speaks so quietly you almost don't hear the second part of his statement. 

“And I’m in love with her.”

Time screeches to a halt. You're convinced it's a dream, nearly pinching yourself to prove that it is. Brady is staring at Matt now, and you're staring at the ground. 

“You're lying.” You don't believe the words you're saying either, and neither do Matt and Brady. 

“I love you.” He's telling the truth, you can hear it in his voice. 

“Stop.”

“I love you and you love him.” 

“Stop it!” 

“I love you, and, fuck - Y/N, it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”

“Please! Matty, please! Just stop!”

“Is he telling the truth?” This time it’s Brady. His voice quivers with every word. Like he doesn’t want it to be true. “You're in love with me?” 

You wrap your arms around your torso, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping - praying - that when you opened your eyes, this would all be over and you'd wake up in your bed. But when you opened your eyes again, you were still on the couch in the Tkachuk’s basement, blanket tangled between you and Matt. 

“You should have let me tell him,” you say to Matt, ignoring Brady’s question, still lingering in the air. “I wanted to be the one to tell him, you knew that.” 

“Well, he hasn't been letting you, now has he?” Matt snaps back at you, the regret showing up on his face almost instantaneously. “Baby…” 

The name slips out on accident, he doesn't mean to say, and he sure as hell doesn't mean for Brady to hear it. 

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Brady finally yells, fed up with being kept in the dark. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?” 

“I don't-” you start to say, trying to say it before Matt does. 

“She loves you, okay?” Matt grabs your hand for a moment when he starts to speak, giving it a squeeze before taking his own hand back again. “She loves you in more than a friend way, and we’ve spent nearly the last year trying to get her to tell you but every time - every time Brady! - some stupid shit happens, like you trying to hook her up with someone, or - oh, I don't know - randomly springing your girlfriend on us!” 

“That was one time!” Brady argues, “Besides you were the only one who knew Autumn was coming, why are you even mad?” You flinch at the mention of her name, but freeze at what comes after. 

“What?” 

Matt looks like he's been caught red handed - and he has, really. He just didn't mean for you to find out this way. He didn't mean for you to find out any of this the way that you just did. 

“I can explain -”  

“Please don't,” you stand up just as Matt is reaching for you. “I don't want an explanation. I don't - I just want to - I’m going home.”