Connor won't be able to go back from knowing the way this sounds. He'll remember all the whines and groans that Dylan made, how desperate he felt. Connor wonders what tomorrow is going to be like, for all of them. For Dylan, maybe, especially.

Dylan wants both of them to shut up and Connor to just put his dick in him already, but he knows this is crossing a lot of boundaries for the both of them and communication is important.

He knew this would happen, one day. He didn’t think Dylan would touch his dick for the first time on the bus, but.

Dylan doesn’t know whose idea it was to put hockey players in lingerie, but he kind of wants to send them a thank-you card.

Sometimes, when a player is having relationship trouble of some kind, he wakes up in bed with a retired player who wore the same number. In theory, the retired player gives some advice.

“I need a favor,” Connor interrupts. That does not make Dylan feel any better. If Connor has to drive them halfway to Guelph to even ask, it must be big. “Of course,” says Dylan at once. Connor frowns at him, sidelong. “Don’t say that before I tell you what it is.” Well, that’s not ominous at all. “What did you do, murder someone and need help hiding the body?” Dylan tries to chirp. Connor’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

Connor’s experienced some weird fan interactions since he’s joined the NHL, but nothing surprises him quite as much as when a little girl raises her hand during a fan Q&A and asks him if he’s married. Not because it’s a particularly outlandish or rude question, but because his first instinct is to say “Yes.”

How to Survive Your First Year in the NHL When You've Been Appointed the Next One: a guide by Sidney Crosby, currently being field-tested by Connor McDavid. Support and occasional sarcastic remarks provided by Dylan Strome.

“Bet me I can’t sleep with ten prospects before the draft,” Dylan says.

Dylan misses it, at first. (In which Dylan doesn't realise that he and Connor are a thing until he does.)

Connor McDavid comes out on a Saturday. It is raining. He tangles his hand in Aaron Ekblad’s and says, “Does anybody have any questions?”

Connor McDavid and Dylan Strome are going to the Toronto Maple Leafs together. Even if they have to get married about it.

It’s not - it’s not a thing. Really. Not a thing-thing, at the very least. He doesn't think it can be a thing if you only think about it and don't act on it, excepting that one time when Connor was straight up nailing him to the bed. He reasons that it certainly can't be a thing-thing if you've never even talked about it with your not-boyfriend. Dylan resolves to figure his shit out and have less hyphens involved in his life. (or: Connor McDaddy)

“So you’re boyfriends?” Connor and Dylan exchange a glance, and then Dylan says, “That’s not quite the word I’d use.” (Or: 5 times Dylan and Connor technically told the truth about their relationship.)

"So you're gonna take me to prom, huh," Dylan says, testing the words out in his mouth. "Which one?" "Not McDowell's," Connor says, like he's given it a lot of thought. He probably has. Jesus. "Ideally we'll still be in the playoffs, so we won't have time." "Ideally," Dylan echoes, and takes another bite of burrito to calm himself. Whatever, it's not like prom's a huge deal to either of them. They could go as buddies. People do that. "What should I wear?" If anything, Connor just grins wider.

Society is weird in that there’s not a lot of words for someone who you love and do a lot of dating-things with and are committed to but you’re not actually dating. OR: Five times people misunderstood Connor and Dylan's friendship, and one time someone didn't.

Dylan Strome goes to Edmonton to deal with, like, a lot of stuff. Mostly Connor, because they're apparently bonded, or whatever.

Connor McDavid is not the next, next one. He's the only one. For Dylan and his super chaffed dick. (A story about awkward relationship conversation, feelings and the sheer amount of blackmail material Alex DeBrincat has on McJesus and Baby Stromer.)

"The last snap is Dylan’s dimly lit bed, one long skinny leg stretched toward the end of the bed and one bent at the knee. Call me when you’re home. Connor doesn’t drop everything, but he also doesn’t put his dishes in the dishwasher." In which Connor and Dylan talk on the phone.

There is a fucking primer. Dylan doesn't quite know what to do with that.

Some things in life are certain. Roses are red, violets are blue, Connor McDavid excels at hockey and he really—really—doesn't like sex.

Connor knows what happens during the offseason.