The media boy was so incredibly cute. If there was anything good about Ottawa, it was the fact that Harris Drover was there. Yeah, maybe the Centaurs sucked. And yeah, maybe he got put with a captain who very clearly didn’t enjoy his presence (sorry, Rozanov), but Harris was the best.

Harris had a dog. Harris had a welcoming family! Harris, who showed up to every home game decked out in Centaurs gear even though they barely filed half a stadium. Fuck, Troy couldn’t believe he went from a winning team to a losing team within seconds. Fucking Dallas Kent. All of his problems seemed to stem from that friendship, actually.

And honestly, Ottawa wasn’t too bad now that he’s thinking of it. He and Harris are able to go out and do stuff together without any attention, because nobody knows who he is, because nobody pays attention to hockey, because Ottawa sucks. He’s really going back and forth on this Ottawa thing!

And then he (stupidly) comes out to his captain one night when they’re laying in bed. Rozzy— Rozanov isn’t surprised. He says he can say the way that Troy looks at Harris. Rozanov comes out to him. Suddenly, just suddenly, this team might not be the worst thing in the world.

It feels nice to have an accepting family, too. Lord knows his old team would’ve been absolutely disgusted. Which… unfortunate, yes, but he was happier now, too. Honest to God, Troy doesn’t remember the last time he felt this good. One the ice, off the ice. Now, all that was left to do was to work up the balls to ask out Harris. Which… easier said than done.

Especially when they’d just fucked in his hotel room after getting a little too drunk off a win (and alcohol, of course).

Troy was sitting there, hands folded in his lap, unsure of what to say other than—

"So… it was good?"