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Nate wore a ring. Not around his finger, never that Gabe saw, but on a chain around his neck. It’s a plain, thick gold ring that might have something engraved on it, but Gate wasn’t sure since while he never saw Nate without it, he never got a good look at it. Nate never mentioned it. Gabe occasionally saw him fiddling with it while on the phone, but he didn't draw attention to it, and Gabe wrote it off as a family heirloom or a good luck charm. If it was a good luck charm, it worked. Nate had come out of the gate swinging.
Gabe didn't think about the ring again, too busy with hockey and the desperate hope that this season wouldn’t be like the last one, until January when Tampa Bay hosted the Avs and Gabe accidentally stumbled across Nate and Jonathan Drouin clutching each other in a spare trainer's room like they couldn't bare to be apart, Nate's hand tangled in Jo's hair and their faces close, breathing the same air and whispering into each other's mouths, lips brushing against each other softly, more caresses than kisses. Gabe backed out quietly, Nate and Jo too wrapped up in each other to hear him, but not before noticing that Jo had Nate's ring clutched tightly in his fist.
That night, Gabe called his sister and started with, "I think Mac is married to Jonathan Drouin," before he even said hello.
"What?" Beatrice demanded, overlooking his lapse in phone etiquette for once. Gabe told her what he had seen.
"You need to talk to him," she said.
"But what else could it possible be?"
It was impressive the way he could hear her roll her eyes all the way from Sweden. "A million possible things, which you would realize if you didn't play a sport where you were repeatedly hit on the head." They talked for a while longer, Beatrice updating him on her classes and about her new boyfriend, gleeful that Gabe was on another continent for four more months and couldn't properly impress upon him the importance of treating his sister right (his words) or scare him away (her words).
"Talk to him," she said one last time before hanging up the phone.
Gabe looked at his phone and sighed. He should probably talk to Mac.
***
Gabe spent the rest of the road trip observing Nate, who seemed just as cheerful as always. He was still surgically attached to his iPhone and spent every free moment texting someone, but that was nothing new, and while he never protested when the team drug him out to the bar, Gabe realized that he had also never seen Nate leave with someone.
They have a blessed free day after their road trip and Gabe invited Nate over, promising to commiserate over the trials and tribulations of being under-21 and America's ridiculous drinking age. They were three drinks in when Gabe finally asked, blurting out, "Are you married to Jonathan Drouin?" Saying it out loud, Gabe realized how ridiculous is sounded, except that instead of laughing at him, all the color drained out of Nate's face and his hand flew to the ring around his neck like it was a lifeline.
Take that, Beatrice and her too-many-hits-to-the-head theory, Gabe thought smugly, before realizing that if Nate and Jo actually were in a relationship, then he was being an asshole.
"I mean, if you are, or if you're in a relationship or whatever, that's cool and I'll support you 100%. It's just, I walked in on you at the rink after the Tampa Bay game and you never take that ring off. And," Gabe added, realizing as he talked, "that has to be a really hard relationship, especially if you can't tell anyone."
Nate looked a little less like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt by the time Gabe stopped rambling. "We're not married," he told Gabe mulishly. "We're, I dunno, engaged, I guess. We exchanged rings and we're it for each other, but we've never really talked about labels."
"How long have you been together?"
"Two years in April."
Nate was still eighteen. Gabe couldn't imagine being with the same person for that long when he was eighteen. He couldn't imagine having been with one person for that long now.
"If you ever want to talk about it, or get drunk and not talk about it, let me know," Gabe offered. Nate quirked a smile in return, and they spent the rest of the night dissecting the Star’s power play.
***
Nate didn't mention it again, and Gabe didn't bring it up, but he tried to make sure that no one bothered Nate when he was on the phone and when Stastny and Duchene launched their Get the Rookie Laid campaign, Gabe did his best to run subtle interference and he didn't think he was imagining Nate's grateful look.
***
In March, in the middle of a six game loosing streak that had Coach furious and the team disheartened, Nate called him and said, "You said if I ever wanted to get drunk and not talk about it, you were available." Gabe took stock of what liquor he had in his house. Nate sounded far more exhausted than their current record and subsequent bag skates merited, and Drouin had been on IR when Tampa Bay came to Denver last week. "Give me an hour to hit the liquor store, then come on over."
Nate didn't say anything when Gabe opened the door, just knocked back the proffered shot of vodka and gestured for another.
One more shot and three beers in, he said, "I really miss him."
Two more beers and an aquavit later, he said, "I've barely even seen him since September."
Two more beers and he said, "He's worth it, though."
Another shot and he said, "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Let's switch to water," Gabe told him.
The next morning, Gabe made a bleary and wan-looking Nate coffee and toast. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked, not sure if he meant the hangover or his relationship.
Nate grabbed the coffee like drowning man reaching for a life raft. "We're spending the summer together. I just have to make it another month."
***
After the season was over - they didn't make playoffs, but they didn't finish at the bottom of their conference this year, hooray! - Gabe left to terrorize his sister's boyfriend in Sweden and Nate left for Jo. Gabe texted his team on and off, chirping their golf game and summer fashion and being chirped in return for, in Duchey's words, his summer job as an Abercrombie model. Nate sent him a photo that was just two sets of hands, matching rings on the left ones.
u better not have a secret wedding w/out inviting me he responded, and got back a photo of two ringed fingers flipping him the bird.
***
The ring was off Nate’s finger and back on the chain around his neck when he showed up for training camp in September, but the tan line on his left finger and the relaxed set of his shoulders made him look much better than he had in April. Gabe sat down next to him on the bench and bumped him shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.
Nate rubbed his thumb along the tan line and nodded. "We'll be okay.