“Here. These are for you.”

​

Zane blinked at the bouquet of flowers Ryan thrust toward him. “What the hell are those?”

​

“Flowers. Duh.” 

​

“Thanks.” Zane rolled his eyes and took them, the plastic crinkling in his hand. “I’d worked that part out myself.”

​

“I dunno what kind. I just grabbed ones that looked nice.”

​

“Huh.” He glanced up at his boyfriend. “Why?”

​

Ryan’s brow furrowed. “We’re dating. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

​

“I mean, I guess?” Zane stuck his nose in the flowers. Huh. They didn’t really smell like much. Just sort of … green. 

​

Ryan’s face fell. “You don’t like them.” 

​

He sounded so genuinely disappointed that Zane set the bouquet on the counter and pulled him close. “I like you.”

​

“No shit.” Ryan’s expression lightened. “I just thought maybe you’d like the flowers too.”

​

“I’m … confused by them,” Zane admitted. 

​

“Is it cause you think flowers are for girls?”

​

Zane hid a smile. “No, I mean that’s dumb, right? Anyone can like flowers.”

​

“But you don’t.”

​

Sometimes, Zane didn’t give Ryan enough credit for being able to read him really, really well. He also didn’t give Ryan enough credit for being smart. When they’d first met, Zane would have sworn there was a little sign floating above Ryan’s head that said, “No thoughts. Only hockey.” 

​

But that wasn’t really true, was it? 

​

Ryan was a hell of a lot smarter than he came across at first glance and, well, they’d known each other a really fucking long time. Long enough that Zane shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that Ryan had him all figured out. 

​

“They’re nice,” Zane said slowly. “I’m just not sure they’re really me.”

​

Ryan sighed, walking backward, his hands warm on Zane’s hips as he tugged him toward the couch. “You think it’s a lame gift.”

​

“They’re pretty but I probably would have enjoyed a good microbrew more,” he admitted. 

​

“Damn it, I thought about that but it seemed like a bro gift and—”

​

Zane kissed him, cutting off his words, pushing Ryan back until he fell onto the couch.

Ryan’s grip on his sides insured Zane went with him but he braced his arm on the cushion so he didn’t crush Ryan. He could take it but this late in the season they were both a little banged up and they didn’t need any more injuries. 

​

They made out a while, Zane sinking into it with the ease he always felt when he was with Ryan. On the ice, in bed, it was easy. 

​

They were still carefully feeling their way around the edges of their relationship though, figuring out what it all meant and how it was supposed to look. How to use their words instead of just assuming they knew what the other one wanted. 

​

This though, this was so effortless. This was like being on the ice where it all made sense. It was just moving and reacting and not getting all tangled up in his thoughts. 

​

They kissed until Zane’s lips felt kind of puffy and sore and his cock ached but he liked the slow slide of Ryan’s big hand moving up his back, warm through the cotton of his T-shirt. He liked it too much to stop or get undressed or even rub together until they made a mess of their underwear. 

​

This was enough.

​

Their kisses eventually slowed and Zane shifted, half on his side, half draped over Ryan’s chest, his fingers working idle patterns as he traced across the hard planes of Ryan’s muscles. 

​

“Are we bad at romance?” he asked. 

​

“Probably.” Ryan sounded more amused than offended by the idea, his chest rumbling a little with his chuckle. “But it’s okay. We’re just not those guys.”

​

Zane pushed up on one elbow so he could look Ryan in the face. His hair was wild, springing up in little curls everywhere and it never failed to make Zane smile. “But like, do you want to get better at it?”

​

Ryan huffed. “This isn’t hockey, man. We don’t have to be the best at everything.”

​

Zane squinted at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Ryan Hartinger?”

​

Ryan thumped his shoulder. “I’m serious. We don’t have to make a big deal out of this. It’s … whatever. We’re bro-friends, not boyfriends.”

​

Zane let out a surprised bark of laughter and Ryan thumped him again. “It’s not funny.”

​

“It’s totally funny,” Zane managed between snorts, resting his head against Ryan’s chest as his shoulders shook with laughter. 

​

Ryan let out an annoyed sound that only made Zane laugh harder. “What does that even mean?” he gasped. 

​

“You know what it means.”

​

“I promise you, I do not,” he said with a laugh, wiping at his eyes.

​

“I mean since we started out as friends, it’s different for us.” Ryan reached out, hooking his finger in the gold chain Zane wore, tugging at it. 

​

“Oh.” Zane let out one final snicker before sobering, thinking about his words. “Hmm. I guess. I mean, I think starting out that way does make it a little different.”

​

“We never really had to impress each other. Or maybe we already had.”

​

“True.”

​

Zane had so many memories in college of showing off for Ryan. Working on trick shots and fancy passes and intricate footwork. Partly for the game but also because he loved the look in Ryan’s eyes and the way it felt when Ryan pulled him into his arms and laid a big smacking kiss on top of his helmet as he told Zane how amazing he was.

 

Yeah, okay, Zane was a really big dumbass for not figuring out he had a thing for Ryan all those years ago. 

​

“Did you want to impress me?” Zane asked curiously, focusing on Ryan’s face. “With the flowers?”

​

“I mean, kind of. I wanted you to feel special.”

​

“Oh.” That … that was really sweet actually. ​“You do make me feel special,” he said. “All the time.”

​

“But flowers aren’t your thing.”

​

“Probably not.” He patted Ryan’s chest. “But I do like them. And it means a lot that you wanted to get them for me.”

​

He hoped that was enough. There was nothing worse than seeing Ryan’s face fall with disappointment. 

​

It seemed to be satisfactory because Ryan just nodded, his expression thoughtful. “But beer is better.”

​

“Beer is better,” Zane agreed. “I still love the fuck out of you for getting me flowers though.”

​

He stretched and pressed a kiss to Ryan’s lips before he levered himself up off the couch.

 

“Where are you going?” Ryan whined. 

​

“To put the flowers in … something.” Zane definitely didn’t have a vase but he could get creative. 

​

He eventually found a very dusty pitcher that they’d used for a team party once and when the flowers were as arranged as they were going to get, he carried them over to the end table. 

​

Ryan was sprawled out, though he’d lost his shirt. And he was watching a show he swore was so boring it put him to sleep. 

​

Zane squinted at him. “Is this a hint that you want to make out again instead of watch something?”

​

“Maybe.”

​

Zane snorted and pulled his shirt off, tossing it on the coffee table. They had the rest of the day off and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend it. “Yeah, okay.”

​

After, when his lips still tingled and he could taste Ryan on his tongue, Zane settled onto the couch beside him again, wedging himself between the cushions and Ryan’s big frame. 

​

There wasn’t really room but they made it work.

 

“I think the flowers look kinda nice,” Ryan said, staring at the end table. 

​

“They do,” Zane agreed, but something in Ryan’s voice made him wonder … “Wait, do you want flowers?” 

​

“Kinda.” Ryan’s tone was sheepish. “I think I like them.”

​

“Got it.” Zane patted his stomach. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

​

He was gonna buy Ryan so many flowers.

​

“We’re maybe not so bad at this dating thing, huh?” Ryan asked a few minutes later, his words slurring a little with sleep. 

​

“Nah, not so bad,” Zane agreed with a smile as he tangled their fingers together and closed his eyes.