Obliviots in love
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“H’v y’noticed?” Adam shouts.
Brandon gives him a baffled look. “Noticed what?”
He’s definitely more sober than Adam right now. That can't be right. Adam’s like twice his size. Shouldn’t he be able to drink Brandon under the table?
Blinking, he realizes he’s lost the thread of the conversation and Brandon’s still waiting patiently for his answer.
“You’re tiny,” Adam tells him.
“I’m really not,” Brandon says, but his lips are twitching. “It’s not my fault you’re the size of three moose put together. Have I noticed what?”
Adam frowns. “I don’t know, what?”
Brandon shakes his head. “You are smashed, buddy. Come on, let’s go while you can still walk.”
- Part 1 of Winnipeg Jets
“You get that that’s not normal, right?” Kerf asks him during practice.
JT, dripping sweat from breakaway drills, spares him a glance. “What’s not?”
“The way you two are—” Kerf gestures.
“Are what?” JT asks, faintly alarmed.
Kerf sighs. “Never mind.” He scoops up a puck and heads for the net, where Varlamov is waiting.
JT shares a glance with Tyson, who looks just as baffled.
- Part 1 of Colorado Avalanche
Brandon strokes his hair. Adam is heavy and Brandon’s going to need to breathe again at some point, but right now he’ll willingly put up with any number of discomforts if it means he’s got Adam there, surrounding and invading all his senses until there’s nothing else Brandon can see, smell, or feel.
“I miss you so much,” he whispers, because Adam’s asleep and therefore it’s safe to be vulnerable. “I love the Pens, I do, playing there has been incredible, but—” He presses a kiss to Adam’s temple. “I miss you so much it’s like I’ve lost an arm, or one of my senses. I turn to talk to you a thousand times a day. I don’t—how am I supposed to do this without you?”
Adam stirs and Brandon snaps his mouth shut. He’s smiling when Adam lifts his head, blinking blearily down at him.
Hat Trick, or: The Totally Accidental and Completely Unintentional Seduction of Carter Hart by GreyMichaela
Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF
24 Dec 2019
TK shakes his head, forcing himself to focus. “I have you.”
“Duh.” Nolan tries to lower his head but TK fends him off.
“Claude has Ryanne,” he says, somewhat desperately. “And like... Joel’s got Morgan. And Ghost—he’s got Gina.”
Nolan props himself on one elbow. “You’d better get to the fucking point.”
“Who does Carter have?”
Nolan stares at him for a long moment and TK raises his eyebrows, doing his best to convey what he’s trying to say through facial expressions alone.
“You asshole,” Nolan says, and rolls off him.
TK sits up as Nolan grabs his clothes and yanks them on, muttering under his breath.
“We’re still having sex later, right?” he asks.
Nolan snaps a glare at him. “You’ll be lucky if we have sex again this month. Now get dressed.”
TK is sitting cross-legged on the hood of Nolan’s car, head tilted back and eyes closed. Nolan stumbles to a stop, all rational thought scattering. TK looks blissful, like a well-fed cat lounging in the sun. The corners of his mouth curve up, and he sort of… wriggles in place, like he’s just so comfortable he can’t contain it.
Nolan hates him.
“Why didn’t you have to do an interview?” he snaps, dragging his keys from his pocket.
TK blinks his eyes open, languid and slow, and smiles when he sees Nolan glaring at him. “Cuz you’re prettier.”
Nolan trips over the parking stop and nearly falls. He pops up, outraged, to see TK laughing, arms wrapped around his ribs and head tipped back, so Nolan does the only reasonable thing in the situation—he shoves him off the hood.
Elias holds out a hand, one eyebrow quirking up, and when Brock takes it, he steps backward, drawing him to the bed. Brock follows, just like always, the way he follows Elias wherever he goes without even thinking about it. It’s like breathing, like gravity. The world turns, the sun rises, and Brock follows Elias.