Work Text:
Jamie always meant to tell Trevor that he loved him. Always thought he would have the time. Time for what? He doesn’t really know. Time to find the right words, he guesses? The perfect words. Words that will make Trevor know that he wasn’t joking. Something Trevor won’t just laugh off. Time to figure out their future together.
He plays with his phone in his lap as he sits in the back of the Uber, stuck in the Monday afternoon traffic near LAX.
His phone starts to vibrate in his hand and he doesn’t need to look to know who it is. He sighs deeply and closes his eyes, letting his head drop back onto the headrest.
Click. He hears the call connect but doesn’t know what to say.
He hears the shallow breathing on the other end of the phone. A sharp intake of breath. A “Jamie?” whispered through a cracking voice.
In all the years he has known Trevor, he has never heard him quiet. Even the silent treatment, Trevor did loudly. This quiet unsettles him.
He let out a shaking breath. “Yeah, Z.”
“I — I saw — Is it true? You are — oh god — Are you?” His voice getting impossibly quieter.
In the back of a Prius, Jamie feels his chest clench painfully and thought for a second that if he had a heart attack, he probably wouldn’t have to leave. Philly probably won’t want someone who gets heart attacks over a teammate sounding impossibly sad.
He can breathe. He can swallow down his own heartbreak. Yeah, that he can do; be there for Trevor. “Yeah, Trev.”
“FUCK!”
The sudden change in pitch makes Jamie jump so high he almost hits his head on the roof.
Before Trevor could say anything else — Jamie knew if Trevor asked to see him, he would break — Jamie gently offers, “They already picked me up in an Uber. I’m on my way to LAX right now. I’m sorry. I wish I could have told you earlier. I’m sorry. It just all happened so fast.” He feels his voice catch in the back of his throat; he tries to swallow the lump down without success.
Through the phone, he hears Trevor sniffle. “Oh.” His voice is so small that Jamie can only guess that’s what he said before a small muffled sob trickles through.
Jamie clenches his fist so tight he thinks he might break his hand. What’s another injury anyway. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything; just focusing on his breathing while trying his hardest not to hear whatever sounds Trevor was making. Trying not to think.
He’s not sure how long they sit in silence when the driver lets him know they were almost there.
“Hey, Z? We’re pulling up to the airport so I’m going to have to hang up soon. We’ll still talk all the time okay? Like in the summer. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah?” Jamie tries not to hear the wobble in his voice
“Yeah, bud. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
Trevor lets out a weak snort, injects fake levity into this voice. “Yeah. You’re stuck with me too. Hey, I’ll see you in Mexico right?”
Jamie hums his agreement even though he doesn’t know if he will be able to do it. To see Trevor again after all this. He’s almost glad the Ducks have already played almost their games against the Flyers this year.
They sit in silence for a little while longer as Jamie watches the car pull into the terminal.
“Hey Trev —” he starts.
“Jamie, I love you,” Trevor whispers, quiet but no shake in his voice.
Jamie feels all the air leave his lungs. He almost chokes on his own tongue. His head spins as he slams his eyes shut. The blood rushing in his ears drowning out the sound of his Uber driver throwing the car in park and getting out to grab his bags.
This motherfucker always has the worst timing, Jamie thinks, panic welling up. There isn’t time for Jamie to dissect what he means by that. If Trevor means that like—
There isn’t time for Jamie to decide what his plan A is. Or Plan B. Or—
There isn’t time for anything.
So he just does what he always does. “Yeah, Z. Duh. Love you too, bud. I’ll see you soon yeah? We just pulled in and I gotta go.”
“Oh yeah, for sure. Have a good flight, I guess. Send me a pic or whatever,” Trevor says.
“Yeah, you too. Um, later, dude.”
“Yeah,” Trevor says, “bye Jamie.”
And the line goes dead.
Jamie slams his head on the head rest and lets out a choked scream. “Fuck,” he says to no one as he steps out into the thick afternoon air outside LAX.