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Alex has been taking Nicky out to dinner for years now, little hole-in-the-wall diners after late games with hair still wet from their quick showers, fancy restaurants where the cheapest bottle of wine is $100, international places that serve great Swedish meatballs and passable borscht. Nicky enjoys food (who doesn’t?) but Alex is on a completely different level, even has an app on his phone that lets him know when a new restaurant is opening downtown and whether he’ll like it, based on the ratings he’s given to what Nicky is pretty sure is every single restaurant in a twenty mile radius of Alex’s apartment.
It would be a lie to say that Nicky doesn’t remember exactly when this began (half-way through his first year playing with the Caps, Alex went up him after a game where they both played like they were possessed. Alex got three goals and an assist while Nicky had four assists and a goal and it was maybe not the first time, but it was the most memorable moment that Nicky can remember where everything he and Alex did on the ice just clicked and they made the Hurricane’s goalie look like he shouldn’t have made it out of peewee. It was an early game so they were done by six and after the media left Alex came up to Nicky’s stall, tall and grinning and still a little red-faced from the game, and asked him very politely, “Want to get dinner tonight after shower?” Nicky didn’t know what to say, was still getting used to the brave new world of NHL hockey, so he just nodded his head dumbly and got in Alex’s car instead of going back to Nylander’s house where he had been spending most of his time outside of the rink and the gym. After that, Alex would always suggest that they go to the new panini place he had heard about, or the great burger joint that Sema said had the best grilled mushrooms he’d ever tasted, and Nicky would go along with him, bemused but happy enough to let Alex chatter on about whatever was on his mind that day) but he still doesn’t know why Alex asked him to dinner that first time, or why he kept asking after Nicky said about three words total throughout the entire meal, or even why he keeps saying yes.
Nicky’s never really been the type to panic or worry about things (his mama always called him a “little old man” because he was so pragmatic and difficult to ruffle), but the other day Wilso was being a nosy little shit and now Nicky can’t stop thinking about what exactly it means that he and Alex go on, what are essentially dates, at least once a week.
(“Why doesn’t Ovi ever ask me or Latts if we wanna go get dinner with him? Why is it always Papa?” Wilso asks, towelling his hair dry and looking over at where Nicky and Alex have been making plans for a late dinner, somewhere with good pasta because Nicky always craves carbs after a tough game and good wine because Alex loves wine.
“Yeah, that’s fucking favoritism man, the captain can’t do that,” Latts adds from where he’s shoving his feet into still-tied dress shoes, either very effectively faking outrage or genuinely upset that he’s never gone out to eat with Alex, Nicky honestly can’t tell.
Alex rocks back on his heels and laughs, his back curving so his shoulders are resting against the wall and his backside is sticking out at a sharp angle, the horrendous white spandex that Nicky loathes and Alex refuses to get rid of making it more noticeable than usual.
“Not ask you because you don’t know which one salad fork and which one for main course,” Alex says, grinning wide and glancing down at Nicky conspiratorily, like he knows that Nicky was just looking at his ass and also that Nicky still has no fucking clue which fork is the salad fork.
“C’mon Ovi,” Wilso whines, “you can’t just take Backy out on dates all the time and not share the love with the rest of us! I bet he doesn’t even put out.” Nicky, curse his pale Swedish complexion, can feel his face reddening, from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears and down his neck, splotchy and obvious. Thankfully, the rest of the team is too busy looking at Latts, who’s just cut in to make his plea to Alex, to notice that Nicky looks like he suddenly acquired a brutal sunburn.)
It’s been a week since then, and Nicky’s been thinking about it ever since. He knows it was just Wilso being Wilso (loud and annoying and oblivious) but he still can’t help but wonder what exactly it means that Alex has been taking him out (on dates) for years now and he somehow never noticed.
Alex has always been, to some degree, unattainable to Nicky. They’re teammates for one thing, and Alex has exclusively dated women for as long as Nicky’s known him. Or at least, he’s only talked to Nicky about women; women he wants to date, women he’s dating, women he’s just broken up with. And...actually, that’s the end of the list. Huh.
Nicky generally considers himself a fairly competent, attentive person, so the fact that it’s taken him years to figure out that Alex has been essentially dating him is...disappointing. And also exhilarating. Nicky is many things, including apparently oblivious to Alex trying to date him, but cowardly he is not. He may never be quite as loud and comfortable with the press and blindingly confident as Alex is, but he likes to think that when it’s crunch time he’ll do what needs to be done.
The next time Alex invites him to dinner (a nice restaurant this time, with low lighting and hot towels and wine expensive enough for the waiter to present Alex the cork) Nicky makes it all the way through appetizers and halfway through the main course before he sighs and steels himself.
“Alex,” he says, and looks into Alex’s eyes determinedly. “Are we dating?”
Unsurprisingly, Alex laughs, goofy and too loud for the fancy atmosphere but Nicky can’t bring himself to be embarrassed.
“It only took you,” Alex says, and then looks at his watch, as if he’s calculating just how long he’s been waiting for Nicky to catch on.
“Well,” Nicky says huffily, cheeks burning just slightly but still unable to stop the slow smile that takes over his face, “it’s not like you were obvious!”
“What, you want me to say ‘Hey Nicky, you want blowjob after game tonight?’ I think you have heart attack and then I have to play without my center.”
“Alex. Please.”
“See?” Alex says in response to the red that has quickly overtaken Nicky’s face. His grin is smug and stupid and Nicky can’t wait to kiss it off his face later.