I was hiding under your porch because I love you.

This would be an AU where Europeans only got a toehold in the Americas, establishing a few colonies but failing to spread west past the Appalachian Mountains or Lake Ontario. The rest of North America remains under the control of the First Nations and Native American tribes as independent, sovereign nations.

Carey is the crown prince of the Dakelh Nation.

He's not, really, not exactly, that's just how the English language tabloids in the ceded territories like Toronto translate it. They're obsessed with the leaders of the other Nations on the continent (so ~exotic~) and tend to talk about them as though they're equivalent to the British royal family.

PK grew up in Toronto. He plays hockey, but he was drafted by the capital of the Dakelh Nation instead of Montreal. He embraces the city, makes an effort to learn the language, does a ton of fan and charity events, plays amazingly for the team. When he signs his big, long-term contract, he pledges $10 million to the children's hospital.

The hospital is where they meet. Carey's big policy initiative, what he really cares about, is improving communication and the flow of resources between the big high tech hospitals in the city and the small medical centers in the rural territory, where people live a more traditional life. He's at the children's hospital to talk to them about what they're doing on that front.

It's not a formal visit, so Carey isn't dressed up; he only has two bodyguards with him.

PK comes in to visit the kids while Carey is getting a tour of the new play space (that PK's donation helped fund).

"I'm sorry," Carey says to the administrator. "If I'd known you were hosting a media event, I would have rescheduled."

The administrator looks over across the room where PK is high fiving a bunch of kids. "Oh, no, it's not a media thing. Mr. Subban comes in all the time just to say hello." Her phone starts buzzing and she frowns at the screen, hesitates.

"Go ahead," Carey says. "I can wait."

She gives him a grateful smile and steps out of the room, phone pressed to her ear.

Carey watches PK. He'd thought the donation had just been a publicity stunt, but PK seems genuinely invested in these kids. He feels someone pat his knee and looks down. A small boy stares up at him.

"That's PK Subban," the child informs him.

"Yes," Carey says.

"He signed my fish last time," the kid says, and holds up a plush salmon that does indeed have a signature carefully sharpied into its fuzz.

"Wow," Carey says, with his best impressed face.

The kid nods, satisfied with Carey's reaction. "Do you want to see my drawing?"

Carey ends up sitting at a table with half a dozen kids, helping them color in drawings of hockey players and ice rinks with the colors of the Nakwuntl'ooncho Sockeyes.

PK comes over eventually, and the kids are thrilled to show him their drawings. He remembers their names and ooohs and ahhhs over all of their pictures.

He smiles at Carey and says, "Hello, I am PK."

His Dakelh is not terrible.

"Carey," Carey says.

PK's face doesn't change, still warm and friendly. PK's vague image of Crown Prince Carey is a man with a severe, unsmiling expression, dressed in full traditional regalia at formal events. Carey keeps a low profile at home, and the Dakelh people don't think of him as a celebrity -- there's no breathless coverage of his life in the lifestyle sections, no paparazzi waiting to take candid pictures of him out and about. So all PK sees is a hot guy in casual clothes, smiling as he plays with a bunch of kids. It's a really good smile.

The kids tug at PJ's sleeve, and he turns back to them. He signs their drawings when they ask, and he helps them write their own names next to his, because they're the artists.

Finally, PK and Carey both have to leave. PK promises to score a goal for all of them tomorrow.

Carey's bodyguards fall into place around him as they walk to the elevator. PK doesn't blink at that; he uses a bodyguard too for some public stuff. He asks why Carey's at the hospital. He recognizes most of the doctors on that floor, and Carey doesn't have the awful, exhausted strain on his face that the parents of the kids do.

Carey gives him sidelong glance, but explains his project. He switches over to English for it, which PK appreciates. The project sounds interesting and important, but he likes the way it makes Carey's face light up even more.

PK watches the numbers on the elevator tick down and makes an impulsive decision. He pulls out a sharpie and scribbles his number on the back of a business card. "I'd love to hear more about that," he says and hands Carey the card. "Call me sometime."

Carey takes the card automatically, with a slightly startled expression. The doors open on the ground floor. PK gives him his absolute best smile and steps off the elevator.

*

Carey tells himself he's not going to use PK's number. But a couple days later, he's watching the Sockeyes play and PK scores a goal, and Carey can't quite help himself.

nice goal, he texts. I'm sure the kids loved it.

PK texts back as soon as the game is over, and it goes from there.

They text back and forth for weeks. PK's flirting pretty obviously, but he also does stuff like send Carey selfies he takes with the kids at the hospital and pictures of meals he really likes on the road. Carey lets himself flirt back, and it's -- nice, fun. (Kayla gives him shit for the dumb, soft smile he gets when PK texts him; it drives her crazy that he won't tell her who he's talking to.)

Carey asks PK once how he handles all the attention he gets when he's just out trying to get coffee or have dinner or buy a suit. The city loves its hockey and lacrosse players, and it seems like people are always posting pictures of themselves with PK on the street or at restaurants or where ever. PK says he doesn't mind, people are usually nice about it and it makes them happy, it's not a big deal to take a minute to sign something or take a picture with them. And even when he's tired or he just wants to eat dinner, they're the reason that he gets paid so much to do what he loves, so he really can't complain.

And maybe that's the difference -- people don't want to take a selfie with Carey or get his autograph. When they know who he is, they are careful and respectful and distant. Carey is someone they can't be themselves around, just because of who his mother is.

PK comes back from a road trip and says, let me take you out to dinner

Carey hesitates, and PK adds, we'll go someplace private, i know the chef at 'Uk'oon no one will bother us

come to my place instead, Carey says finally. He doesn't live in the Great House with his mother and father, he has his own apartment. The security is excellent and discreet, and his bodyguards will be much happier letting in one easily vetted celebrity instead of letting Carey go to a private dinner in a restaurant.

Carey is going to tell PK the truth that night, right up until PK kisses him in the kitchen. PK's mouth is hot and sweet, and when the kiss ends, he's smiling like he sees Carey, not the weight of history and family and duty behind him, and Carey can't give that up.

This is the point where Carey has to acknowledge that he's -- not lying but actively pretending to be someone he's not. When PK makes a comment about the security in his building, Carey tells him it's because a lot of government officials live in his building and in the neighborhood (which is true! The Cree ambassador lives one floor down).

Carey lets PK think that the reason he doesn't want to go out with him in public a lot is PK's fame. They mostly spend time together at Carey's place, or occasionally at restaurants that Carey picks (where he can get a private room because he knows the owner, and more importantly, his security detail knows the exits). It's not that big a deal, because they're both on the road a lot, and PK basically works nights, so neither of them have a lot of time to go dates at the gatherers market, or on hikes, or out dancing.

PK gets it, because he's seen how the media and the fans treat the girlfriends and boyfriends of his teammates, and he figures it's hard to do important government work on healthcare if your colleagues just think of you as the guy who's dating a superstar athlete. But he really likes Carey, and if this is the only way he can keep seeing him, he'll take it. He's pretty sure Carey will get tired of it eventually (he hasn't even met anyone from Carey's family yet, and Carey talks about them all the time), so he's just going to enjoy this time while he has it.

*

Sometime in the spring, PK turns to Carey and says, "Hey, are you going to that medical conference in New York next week?"

"Yeah," Carey says. "How did you..."

PK laughs. "You guys are staying in the hotel we usually use when we play there. We're down the street this time."

"Oh," Carey says.

"We play Thursday night. Are you busy? I could get you tickets."

For a moment, Carey is tempted, but. "There's an awards dinner I have to go to."

PK looks disappointed, but he shrugs it off. "Well, we don't have a curfew Wednesday night...."

When he checks in, Carey texts PK his room number, tells Rene that PK will be coming over after dinner. PK stays the night, and they end up running late in the morning. PK needs to get to the team breakfast and Carey needs to get to the first round of talks, and they've got barely enough time to grab coffee in the hotel lobby's coffee shop.

Carey sees the pictures later, and they're innocent enough, the two of them standing close together in the busy shop, smiling and talking while they wait for their orders. Carey touches the small of PK's back to steer him out of the way of another customer.

He doesn't know anything about it until the next day when Kayla sends him a link to PK's pre-game media interviews with the question, IS THIS WHO YOU'VE BEEN SEEING???

The video is cued up to a reporter asking, "You had coffee with the Crown Prince of Dakelh this morning, is he a fan?"

In the video, PK's face freezes for split second. Then he smiles, but Carey can tell it's fake. "Oh, for sure," PK says. "He can't come to game tonight, but he wanted to support the team."

Someone else asks how PK likes New York, and PK says it's a cute little town, still with that fake smile. Carey stops the video in the middle of the next question about the power play, sick to his stomach.

WELL??? Kayla says.

According to the time on the video, this happened yesterday just after the last talk ended. There's no texts, no calls from PK since then, and that's bad.

The coffee break is ending, so Carey skips the next talk. I just saw the interview, he texts PK.

Nothing.

I'm sorry, he says after a long minute.

Nothing.

Please call me

Nothing.

Carey doesn't know PK's schedule, maybe they're on their way home already, maybe he's on the plane right now.

Carey sleep walks through the rest of the day. He turns his phone's ringer on, just so he doesn't miss it vibrating, but PK doesn't respond. Friday is the last day of the conference. Carey is on the flight home before sunset. He checks his phone as soon as they land, but there's still nothing from PK. There's a process where they sort out the cars and the luggage and the security, and Carey ends up with Shea as his driver. Which is good, because Rene would never go for this.

Carey leans forward and says, "You know where PK lives, right?"

Shea gives him a deeply pained expression in the mirror, but he radios the outrider to let him know they're taking a detour.

*

PK answers the door when Shea knocks.

"You're kidding me," he says flatly when he sees who's standing on the other side.

Shea makes a what can you do? gesture with his hands and PK steps out of the doorway, lets them both come in.

"Can you give us a minute?" Carey asks Shea.

Shea does a quick walk through the living room, makes sure that it's empty and that there's no other entrances. "You're not going to kill him, right?" he says to PK when gets back to the foyer. "I mean, I understand why you would, but you know, my job."

PK gives him a tight smile. "I won't," he says.

Shea waves them into the living room.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was," Carey says.

PK's mouth twists. "I guess now I know why you didn't want to go out in public with me. I'm not good enough for--"

"No!" Carey says, his stomach turning over at the idea that PK would think that. "I didn't want to go out with you because I knew this would happen, someone would recognize me and then you'd know."

"Why?" PK says. "Why did you lie about who you are?"

"Would you have given me your number if you knew?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know," PK says. "But after--"

"I liked how you treated me when you thought I was just some guy. You liked me, not my title or my connections. I knew if I told you, you'd look at me like -- you're looking at me now. And I wanted to put that off as long as I could."

PK shakes his head. "That's--"

"I know. I'm sorry," Carey says. "Can we try again? I'll go out with you anywhere you want. You can be my official guest at the, um, Chumash trade delegation reception next week."

PK raises his eyebrows. "Exciting."

"It's the soonest official event."

PK looks at him for a long moment. Then he shakes his head again, but there is something almost like a smile on his mouth. "Let's start with dinner at a restaurant I pick."

"Anything," Carey says, a huge rush of relief making him dizzy.

He reaches for PK, but hesitates, unsure of how far PK's forgiveness goes. PK closes the last distance between them and kisses him.

Carey slides his hands down PK's back, and makes himself break the kiss. "If I stay over," he says breathlessly, "Weber and Borque have to stay, too."

"Really?" PK says.

Carey winces, nods. He lets of PK and takes a step back, but PK doesn't let him go.

"Fine. The guest room is already set up," PK says with a huge sigh.

"Thanks, PK!" Shea yells from the foyer.

"This is why no one wants to date you," PK says.

"I know," Carey says, and he can't stop smiling.