IN HIDING

Gravel crunched under the tires of Kurt Olson’s SUV as he followed the long, winding drive to the home he’d remodeled about twenty years ago. The house was situated on a lake, small by most former NHLers’ standards, but plenty for two men who never entertained.

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It was cozy and tucked into a densely wooded area, and he’d bought the lots on either side of the home for extra privacy.

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He stretched, groaning as he got out of the SUV, stiff, sore, and hungover. He’d planned to stay in Toronto for the weekend, but one night in a hotel had him missing his quiet life with his husband and dogs. The lap of the waves against the dock and the call of the loons, haunting in the early morning mists.

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The side door was unlocked when he tried the knob, and he stepped inside, hit by the familiar smell of home.

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A moment later, the dogs descended, barking their excitement as they fought to get closer to him, jumping and baying like they were ready to hunt.

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Laughing, Kurt soothed them, crooning their names until they stopped barking and settled for licking him and wagging their tails, trampling on his overnight bags in their haste to greet him.

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“Wild beasts,” he said fondly, rising to kick off his shoes. “No manners at all.”

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“I hope you’re not a burglar,” Robert called out. “Because I’m armed with a frying pan.”

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Kurt laughed softly. Robert was many things, but a tough guy, not so much. Not physically anyway.

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“Please don’t hurt me,” Kurt called out. “I’ve taken enough hits to the head in my life.”

He winced, thinking of Alain Theriault. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t end up like him, but who knew what the future would bring?

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Kurt brushed past the dogs, following Robert’s voice and the scent of frying bacon into the kitchen.

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His husband glanced up, smiling, and Kurt felt a pang of something in his chest that he couldn’t quite place. Love, certainly. Relief that Robert had stuck around for forty years, despite all of Kurt’s fuckups. Regret that he’d condemned them to this quiet, isolated life because he’d always been a coward.

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“Hey. You’re home sooner than I expected.”

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“Don’t sound so excited,” Kurt said drily, stepping closer.

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“Well, I barely got to enjoy my weekend of bachelorhood.” Robert set a splatter screen on top of the pan, turning down the heat.

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Kurt gave him a disgusted look. “You better not have enjoyed it too much.”

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Robert snorted, picking something up off the counter and waving it.  “I don’t know, are you jealous of books?”

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“You should know by now that I am.” Kurt reached out, pulling him close. Sometimes Robert got lost in his books and Kurt practically had to stand on his head to get his attention.

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Robert settled against his body, grinning as he brushed their lips together. He pulled back, expression turning sober. “So, is an early return from Toronto good or bad news?”

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Kurt sighed, squeezing Robert’s hips. “Good, mostly. It was tough though.”

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“Yeah?”

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“Yeah. Give me a minute.”

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“Sure. Whatever time you need.”

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Mostly, Kurt had drank too much coffee on the drive home, but he appreciated Robert giving him a few minutes to get his head together as well.

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“You want breakfast?”

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Kurt groaned, walking toward the half bath. “Please. My hangover is atrocious this morning. Remind me never to mix wine, whiskey, and cigars again.”

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“That’s what you said last time!” Robert called after him.

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With a laugh, Kurt ignored that.

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Once Kurt was done in the bathroom, he returned to the kitchen and leaned against the counter while Robert cooked the eggs.

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Like they often did on weekend mornings, Kurt toasted the bread and pulled out butter and jam. They ate their breakfast on the deck overlooking the water, talking about the weather and the dogs.

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It wasn’t until their plates were empty and they were cleaning the kitchen that Kurt spoke about the visit with Dom.

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He was hoarse by the time he finished. He closed the dishwasher door, then braced himself against the counter. “I fucked him up. I-I made my son ashamed of himself, Rob. How could I do that to my boy?” He whispered the last part, throat too tight to manage anything louder.

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Robert slid behind him, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and pressing his cheek against Kurt’s back. “You didn’t mean to.”

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“Does it matter? How many times have you yelled at me for that shit? Just because I didn’t intend to hurt him doesn’t mean I didn’t do damage.”

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“I know. But—”

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“I fucked up, Rob.”

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“Hey.” Robert’s hands were gentle as he tugged Kurt to face him. Kurt had about six inches and forty pounds on Rob, but he let himself be moved, leaning against the counter, his back aching a little from the long drive and being an old man, broken from years of hockey.

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Robert settled his hands on Kurt’s chest and looked him in the eye. “I’m not saying what you did was right. What any of us did was right. We made choices and in hindsight, we probably should have made different ones.”

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“That’s putting it mildly,” Kurt muttered. He rubbed rubbing his hands across his face.

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“Was Dominic very angry with you?”

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“No.” Kurt swallowed. “I think it would have been easier if he was. He—he’s hated himself for years, Rob. He thought I’d cheated on Simone. He had no idea I was bisexual or in love with you. No idea that Simone knew about us.”

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“Oh, fuck.”

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“Yeah.” Kurt sighed, pulling Robert closer. “He’s … he spent two decades hating me for what he thought I did. Thinking his mother was angry at him for telling her the truth about us.”

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“That’s awful.”

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“It is! And I—I hate that I did that to him. I should have pushed him. I should have tried to get through to him. I can’t believe I … let him down so badly. I wanted a son and I was blessed with one and what did I do? I fucked him up!”

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“Most kids end up with some issues from their parents.” Robert’s tone was mild.

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“Yes, I know, but you have to admit, I was a spectacularly bad father,” Kurt said bitterly.

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Robert sighed. “You weren’t the best, no. But I don’t know what else you could have done under the circumstances.”

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“Anything but what I did would have been better.”

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“Maybe,” Robert conceded. “Or maybe it would have been worse.”

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“How? How could it fucking be worse?”

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“You could have come out after Dom walked in on us and ruined your legacy and his future career.”

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Kurt scowled. “It wouldn’t have—”

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“No?” Robert countered. “You don’t think that would have happened twenty years ago?”

Kurt sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.”

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“Don’t you remember those conversations we had with Simone? Hours, days of arguing about what to do. What the best thing for Dom was. We all agreed to this route because we thought it was best for him.”

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“I hurt him,” Kurt rasped. “I filled him with loathing for who he was. How can I live with that?”

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“I don’t know.” Robert sighed; his expression drawn. “I just hate to see you beat yourself up over this.”

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Kurt smiled faintly because Robert had always seen the best in him, whether he deserved it or not.

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“You have to let it go,” Robert said softly.

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“Do I?”

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“Eventually, yes. Do you want me to let you wallow in your self-pity for a while longer though?” Robert asked.

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Kurt laughed softly, the familiar question already lifting the heavy feeling that had settled over him since he left Dom and Shea’s condo last night. “Maybe just for a few hours.”

“Fine. Then go take your fishing shit out on the boat and wallow on the water for a bit. Beat yourself up about everything you should have done differently. And then let it go. Because the past is done, Kurt. We can’t undo it. All we can do is move forward.”

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“You’re right.” Kurt brushed his lips across Robert’s forehead. “I might call Simone later though. Update her on how it went.”

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“Good. You should.”

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“I don’t deserve you,” Kurt said, studying Rob’s face. It was more lined and worn than when they’d first met, but more dear too.

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And Kurt was once again glad that Dom had found someone like Shea. He could see how good Shea was for Dom. How protective he was.  Someone who would be for him what Robert had been for Kurt.

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Kurt still didn’t know how his relationship with Rob had lasted for forty years, but he was damn grateful it had. Robert had been tolerant of his failings but strong enough to humble Kurt when he needed it.  A saint, really.

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Robert smiled faintly. “You don’t deserve me. But thankfully, I have terrible taste in men.”

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Kurt laughed and pulled him in for a kiss. The feel of Robert in his arms settled him, the same as it always had. And hopefully this was the beginning of a new era for both of them.

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One with less hiding and fewer secrets.

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“We should go out to dinner tonight,” he said. “Somewhere romantic.”

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Robert arched an eyebrow. “We never—”

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“I know,” Kurt said. “But I think we should. Maybe it’s time we stop hiding too.”