Author's Summary: Patrick writes his name on Jonny's to-send Christmas cards. It leads to feelings.

Kaner wakes up soulbonded to Tazer. Then gay shit happens.

Kaner wakes up soulbonded to Tazer. Then gay shit happens

“I can’t,” Patrick says. “Not tonight.”

Honestly, Pat isn't sure how they got here. He's had a lot to drink, and they've been engaged in about four hours of what was Mario Kart war but turned into an epic Smash Bros. tournament, and somewhere along the way bets that required badges of honour were made, except instead of badges of honour somebody—okay, probably Pat—decided they were to be badges of shame, and somebody—again, probably Pat—decided the winner got to mark the loser so everybody could heckle him until it faded.

Patrick is a priest of Aphrodite and Jonathan has a debt to pay.

Emotionally constipated dudes expressing love through making out and deciding to have a kid. In front of the Stanley Cup. #thatsit #thatsthefic

Beneath the ice, dread things lie dreaming. Or listening to One Direction, whatever.

Making sure to stand in profile, Jon watches Kaner take in the sight of him in the too-tight swim trunks. Kaner's fingers twitch at his sides and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, but Jon can't read his expression. "Jeez," Kaner says after a moment. "It's like two bowling balls stuffed inside a tube sock."

“I’m not doing you in the seats,” Pat says, tilting his head back to grin up at Jonny’s red face. “Turn around.” [Timestamp for put your money where your mouth is]

Sublimation 1. Passing from one phase to another without transitioning through an intermediate phase. 2. Where socially unacceptable impulses or idealizations are consciously transformed into socially acceptable actions or behavior, possibly resulting in a long-term conversion of the initial impulse. Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews should probably have figured out the first time what this type of behavior meant.