HÅKON
The next day and a half in Norway kinda go by in a blur. I mean, really go by in a blur. We finish at the cafe and then go find something to do in the city, that night we wander around and stay up late again, less drinking this time, I fall asleep with him in the early morning and we wake up, pack up, and drive home.
The next two days or so are also kinda blurry, Rocket and I are back and forth to the local rink and the gym, he accidentally overdoes it on the first day, it's been about a week since we've worked out at the normal intensity, and I have to rub his shoulders out which ends with my hand over his mouth because my sister is in the next room and him asking, for the millionth time when we're taking it up a notch. Which, at this point, is making me a little weirdly uncomfortable. I should want this with him and I do, I really do, but there's something off about how he's asking or why or all of that and I can't pinpoint it.
And then I need to visit Wilhelm, because he got word through Astrid that I was home and brought a friend.
"Hey, Håk," Rocket is in the passenger seat because I refuse to let him get a Swedish speeding ticket. He has been asking to let me let him drive on the couple highways here and there so he can go 120 km/h legally. I've managed to avoid it for sake of my life and limb.
"Yeah?" I glance at him.
"Did you know Jorgen had a kid?" He's frowning at his phone.
"What?"
"Like an actual honest to god child," he's still staring at his phone. "Who isn't baby aged. Like, he looks six-ish."
"What are you, what?"
"I mean, there's literally no other explanation for this, I'd show you but you're driving." He's still staring blankly at his phone. "He looks like a very small Jorgen. Like Jorgen had a shrink ray and regrew his leg and shaved. Like this kid is just small Jorgen."
"We've got like two minutes until we get there, you can show me then, but really? Is this new? How did you find out?"
"Nico just sent it to the team chat," he mumbles. "It's obviously Jorgen, standing in some random fire station, a genuine child on his shoulders that looks literally exactly like him. I didn't think he had a kid. I didn't even know he was like, with anyone. I thought he was freewheeling over there. I mean, I completely understand if he does have someone because jesus christ he's hot, but..."
"Agreed that he's hot," I ruffle Rocket's hair. "But no, he's definitely not dating anyone. I know that for a fact."
Rocket makes a little 'hmm' noise. "I'm- okay, yeah, this is the Chicago East firehouse, it says it on the fire truck he's standing next to."
"He's from there, Joey Hadley, his dad, is the only one of the three Hadley men that isn't working for the Wolves, Bernie and Louie both hold positions with the Wolves, Bernie coaches and Louie is the GM. Last time I checked Joey is an accountant."
"Hm, boring." Rocket mumbles. "So, Jorgen is home, and has a son out of nowhere."
I pull into Wilhelm's driveway and put the car in park, Rocket hands me his phone. He was right, it's Jorgen, standing by a fire truck, mini Jorgen up on his shoulders. "Wow, weird."
"Did we both like, Mandela effect out a whole child? Did we both forget?" He looks at me. "Wait, go back to the chat, what's everyone else saying."
I exit the picture and open up the chat again, Nico left a couple sentences right below it. "Everyone say hi to Connor, he's seven."
"No, it looks like nobody knew."
"That's the weirdest thing." He mumbles. "Do we know like, a mom? Is this just a single dad thing? I feel like we should've known that our literal head EMT that watches all of our asses constantly every day has a son."
"On the other hand," I look over at him. "Jorgen doesn't tell anyone anything, have you noticed that? I don't even know why he's missing a leg."
Rocket nods, "or why he's named Jorgen as someone who's very much not scandinavian."
"So it's reasonable-ish that we wouldn't have known?" I ask. "Still weird."
"And if he has had a son this whole time, why would Nico just send us that out of the blue." He says. "On the other hand he should really consider quitting the EMT thing and get into modeling."
I laugh. "Right? He's the right type of tall with that type of specific attitude and he's fucking gorgeous."
Rocket stifles a giggle. "So, Jorgen has a kid nobody knew about who we've never even heard mentioned before."
"Yep." I respond. "Out of nowhere."
"Ope," he's still looking down at his phone. "They just met. That explains some stuff."
"How did he just meet-"
"I have no idea." Rocket shrugs. "Anyway who's this friend you're showing me. This is the kissing competition kid, right?"
"Right." I push open the door and wait until he makes his way around the side of the car and joins me. Then I knock on the front door.
He sticks his head in the window before hopping over to the door. "Håkon you're home!" He laughs, then throws his arm up around my shoulders right out the door. "Sucks about the playoffs but hey we've got a wedding to go to in three weeks!"
"Yes we do." I respond in english.
"Oh, english?" He looks behind me. "That must be the goalie you brought home. Astrid told me."
"Yeah," I nod at Rocket, then-
"You know I'm not gonna freak out if you say he's your boyfriend, right?"
I whip around to Wilhelm. "What?"
Rocket is laughing behind me.
Wilhelm presses on. "So?"
"How the fuck did you- Astrid-"
"She didn't tell me," he laughs. "C'mon, Håk, you've never brought anyone home and then all of a sudden you've got this catch of a goalie by your side, Im not as stupid as you'd think."
I let out a long sigh. "Yeah that's my boyfriend, Wilhelm, Rocket, Rocket, Wilhelm." I wave between them.
"How long have you been together?" He asks, stupid cheeky grin on his face telling me the second he gets me alone he's gonna grill me.
"Six months." Rocket responds, now by my side. "A little under that, like five and a half. We're in mid-June now? That started on Christmas?"
Wilhelm lets us into the house and Rocket looks around at the cute little thing, then asks a question: "yo, where's the bathroom?"
Wilhelm points down the hall. "Right that way, two doors down on the left."
He nods, "thanks," then starts down the hall.
Wilhelm, with a scary smile, waits until the door clicks. "So? Gonna give me anything about that or are you just gonna let it go under the table."
I puff out my cheeks. "Yeah."
"I really don't care, Håkon, I know like, you're expecting me to freak out on you because of, like, catholic school, but." He lets out a laugh. "I would've stopped trying to pair you off with people when you came home if you had just told me, but I don't care."
I chew the inside of my lip. "Yeah, it, it's been weird, with me."
"He's a catch, though." Wilhelm looks down the hall to make sure he's not returning. "Looks somewhat greek, is that, I didn't know greek people played enough hockey."
I shrug. "I think his mom is greek in some way but he's Czech. From there, at least. He moved to Canada as a thirteen year old."
ROCKET
Wilhelm, uh. I mean, yeah. Wilhelm. Okay, I know, it's Sweden, the people genetically from here kinda look the same, but Wilhelm and Håkon could easily, and I mean it, pass as brothers. I mean, okay, not really. Obviously they look different, Håkon has stronger features and his nose is sharper and he looks more, I have no idea. Wilhelm looks less harsh in lines, his face shape and stuff is softer. But, they have basically very similar features and eye shapes and mouth shapes and cheekbones and all of that. It's ridiculous. Wilhelm is also a good deal shorter than Håkon which I didn't expect considering everyone I've met in Sweden so far has been insanely tall. Wilhelm being short really brings me back to: both my boyfriend and I are absolutely fucking gigantic.
"I'm back." I'm patting down the front of my shirt, straightening it out again.
"Hey," he looks over at me, then back at Wil. "He's trying to bully me into taking him skating and I'm trying to convince him he's going to get his ass kicked."
I let a cheeky little smile creep onto my lips. "If he wants to get his ass kicked, then why be the ones to stop him?"
"He's got the spirit." Wilhelm points at me. "So, can we get the gang together and let you two absolutely murder us?"
I look at Håkon, then back at Wilhelm.
"If you must." Håkon says, he can't hide the stupid smile on his face.
"Just don't go all hulk on me." Wil gives him an accusing look. "I know how you play."
***
Which is how, an hour and a half later, I meet Svea.
"How the genuine fuck, my dear, did you fucking snag that in high school." I elbow Håkon in the gut, staring at his ex-girlfriend. "How?"
He shrugs. "I don't know."
"You baffle me." I stare at him. "Truly."
***
GUESS WHO FORGOT TODAY IS MMMOOONDAY
-rabid