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e-mason

There were so many ways to take what he was saying. If Eli had it his way, he would have done it again but in his bed. That’s all he wanted right at this moment. It would have been easy to try and work his charm. But Lukas had never shown any signs of thinking the same. “You really want that all over ESPN? That we couldn’t keep it on the ice?” He kept his face close. “If you really want a rematch, I’ll rent out the rink at Pier 17. Just you and me. Nobody else.”

he’s positive there’s almost nothing more the press would love to see than the two rival centers hitting it out in a bar brawl; neatly slotting it into place in the greater picture they’ve been building since sochi ( the tabloids are missing a vital piece of the puzzle, but lukas is perfectly content to let them believe RIVALRY is the only force at play ). “ trying to get me ALONE? ” the question is almost breathed against the other, though lukas is unsure of what exactly he’s insinuating with it. he hates and misses those days around the olympic team — misses the days when their smiles weren’t so sharp and HATES them for bringing the two together at all. “ FINE —– you’re on. ” it’s a quiet confirmation ( promise ) only eli can hear, accompanied by glittering eyes and a slash of a smile; no sense in broadcasting their rendezvous for all.

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i'm off for the night, but give this a like if you'd like some (non-romo) plots from lukas!! i'll shoot you a message in the near future c:

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e-mason

“It’s very pretty. As I recall, the Post called me the hottest in the city. A title I think you held a few years ago.” Eli shrugged his shoulders, smirking at Lukas. “Oh you mean the game none of us cared about because we knew that when it came down to the playoffs, it wouldn’t matter what our record against you was?” He was moving closer, just a small shift forward and he’d be kissing him. Something he had come way too close to over the years. It wasn’t good. He shouldn’t be even thinking about it but here he was. “I remember that hit I got in on you. It was worth the two minutes.”

the POST isn't wrong about who the hottest in the city is, not that lukas would be admitting that to anyone any time soon. the other center is somehow shifting closer and it's getting harder to THINK, clogs of his mind turning slowly and losing track of eli's threads of insults. he blames the beer even though he knows he's had too little to be of any profound EFFECT. the last bit catches in his ears and a smile crosses golden features, sharp and unkind --- if he'd the room to get closer without the compromising position he would have. " enjoyed it THAT much, did ya? why--- " he isn't yelling anymore, far from it --- voice dropping down to more menacing ( dare say suggestive? ) undertones spoken too close to the other's lips. " --- you wanna do it again, elijah? no TWO MINUTE penalty out here."

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e-mason

“Considering I had to go through protocol and an x-ray, yeah I would.” He stood up, looking him in the eyes. Having him this close reminded him of just what he had been trying to forget since Sochi. “Unlike some people, it doesn’t stop me from playing. Though what you guys have been doing recently might not be considered playing. More like a pick up game with people who’ve never played before.” It was a low blow. they weren’t having the best season either. But they were ahead of them. Lukas was playing really well but the rest of the team? Not so much.

it takes more than he'd admit to stay his ground and not give into reflexes that urge him to flinch backwards. " it's your FACE, not your arm. " he shoots back, " as pretty as you like to think it is, its imperfection isn't exactly necessary to play. " it's COLD as far as comebacks though --- head wounds are never things to laugh at ( and somewhere deep inside lukas IS concerned for the forward he was teammates with in sochi; hands planted firmly against the table itching to gently outline MARRED beauty ). instead fingernails curve into the wood grain beneath them. " and my TEAM may be doing terrible in rankings, but i still recall wiping the ICE with you guys in december. "

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e-mason

Eli looked straight into Lukas’ face. He had to admit, seeing the other center there was throwing him off. He didn’t know what to feel at this moment. He couldn’t be attracted to him the way he knew he was. He was nothing to him other than competition. “What? You never get an injury before?”

oops. catching the other's attention had never been part of his plan ( not consciously, anyway ), but there's nothing lukas can do about that now besides hold that steel grey gaze and put a forearm up to block the annoyed blundering of a teammate ( what's mason doin' 'ere? ). " it's fine. " he tells them quietly, before closing the distance between them and elijah mason. lukas doesn't sit, instead beer set down and palms placed against worn wood-grain as he leans forward. " oh so you call that little thing an INJURY, do ya, mason? "

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lukas is a good person – really; he is. so when a familiar voice cuts through the babble of a couple buddies from the team, the BEST course of action would clearly be to ignore it; go on sipping his beer and laughing at corny jokes spilling from his tipsy friends. but off the ice ( and occasionally ON );, the best course of action isn’t always the one that gets taken. he turns to look even though he means NOT to, blue gaze confirming the ranger’s center indeed has a nasty looking bruise blossoming over one cheekbone.

Eli didn’t look great. He had a horrible bruise on his face where he took a puck during practice. He was lucky it didn’t break his jaw. He felt eyes on him and looked up. “It looks worse than it feels,” he said, smiling at them. “Though putting on the mask right now hurts like a bitch.” 

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