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Vaincre

july part i

(Bit of a shorter chapter to make the others start and end where I want them to, but still fun and beachy!)

Nate: What’s up everyone, this is Nate here with my co-host, Jade, welcome back to the Lion Pride Podcast. Okay, this episode is titled ‘Maybe Now I Can Come Home’ and for good fucking reason. Like congratulations to the Rangers, whatever, this is a Gryffindor Lions podcast but—but I am a Logan Tremblay lover and—oh my God, I can’t.

Jade: No, seriously, because guys think about this. We have to talk about this. I haven’t seen anyone actually break this down which surprises me endlessly because it is an insane fucking story. Logan Tremblay is not known for being particularly out there, or candid with the media. I mean, on a scale of Sirius Black to Thomas Walker, he is far, far closer to the Black side of things.

Nate: For sure. At least in public.

Jade: Right. I mean, you’d know.

Nate: Ha.

Jade: Don’t give me that smug little ‘ha.’ I KNOW you see them all the time having pizza.

Nate: I would never TALK about that on here. But yes, I do.

Jade: Okay, we’re talking about Tremzy.

Nate: Yes, yes, we are.

Jade: I mean—we did do a Harvard Years podcast when Logan was first public about them on that mic’d up segment during the Lions-Rangers series.

Nate: [Tearful] Hey, seventeen.

Jade: Hey, Ten. [Squeals]

Nate: My heart.

Jade: But this is just—okay. I mean, I’m skipping ahead but, I’m sorry maybe I’m the only one who saw the way Logan got kissed by Leo Knut and Finn O’Hara. Was everyone else doing something during that moment? That wasn’t a kiss that was a KISS. That was a mother fucking die-hard love confession and no one actually said anything. I didn’t quite understand the Tremblay trade when it happened—trade away MVP?

Nate: And also I don’t think anyone missed that it was hard on him. If you put photographs of him during those last months of being in Gryffindor beside photos of those first months in New York…

Jade: Two different people.

Nate: Two. Different. People. And O’Hara and Knut, too. There’s a photograph—like game day walk in photograph—of O’Hara that just breaks my heart every time I see it.

Jade: Near the concussion?

Nate: No, right after the trade. I have never seen someone look so exhausted.

Jade: I know. When they traded Tremz, I thought there must have been something wrong in the room that they were keeping hush-hush. That we didn’t, like, pick up on.

Nate: Maybe someone thought their relationship was wrong in the room.

Jade: Well, fuck ‘em then, there was nothing wrong with those three, except that one of them has been forced to another city.

Nate: For real. Like, let’s unpack. Logan has just won his second Stanley Cup in two years. That’s insane. Like, on two different teams? He is looking like THE difference maker. He’s finished a one year contract, could demand, like, any amount of money he wants. Should be the happiest guy around. And yet he falls into his sister’s arms—that was Noelle, one of his three sisters—and what does he say?

Jade: Maybe I can come home now.

Nate: Just knock me out, Logan. Knock me flat on my face.

Jade: Maybe I can come home now. I mean, hot mic for real, oh my God. No, it’s everywhere. I’m sure this is not what Logan wanted, more drama surrounding him. Plus, that’s not exactly what an organization wants to hear after your player has just won a Cup, but I gotta say, if the way fans are reacting says anything, it’s that it was a raw moment and maybe one everyone saw coming. There’s no more confusion. He’s separated from his family. Okay, they’re not married, they don’t have kids, that’s been some people’s favorite thing to point out, but they live together, they are together. That would be hard.

Nate: ‘Oh, but that’s part of the lifestyle, blah, blah’ — Yeah. We know. That doesn’t make it less hard.

Nate: Right. Rangers fans are obviously a little upset but—they don’t really know him. Ha, sorry, I sound like a creepy fan, I’m not saying we know him, but we know him as a player. As our player. This guy has been a Lion for his entire NHL career—a team he met two partners on. Well, not Finn.

Jade: Oh, Finn. Oh boy.

Nate: Finn is a whole new can of worms.

Jade: For a different episode. But anyway—Can you imagine if this actually changed things?

Nate: Do you think it could? He has lots of star power. I’m not sure that matters though. Not if no one is willing to talk about a move. The Lions are up to their ears in big salaries already, I mean, maybe not quite yet with Lupin, but Potter, O’Hara, Black, like, this is no joke. And Knut is about to make big bucks and they’ll need a long-term goalie back up solution—more money. A few years ago, I was wondering about a rebuild, now I feel like we have an All-Star team which is unsustainable.

Jade: Like ow. I’ll protest. I’ll literally drive to New York with a hand-painted side, let Logan Tremblay go home to be kissed in the way Finn mother-fucking O’Hara and Leo Knut kissed him on that open ice—Actually, though.

Nate: New headline: Hot mic costs New York Rangers their top forward due to protests from romantics everywhere.

~

One moment, his headphones were being pulled out of his ear, the next, Sirius was being kissed. It was an off-center thing, Remus having leaned over the couch behind him and only half landing it on his mouth.

“I show you the podcast app one time and I’ve created a monster.”

“This one had Logan’s name on it,” Sirius said. “It’s Nate. From Sid’s.”

“I know who Nate is,” Remus laughed. He came around the sofa and sat snugly against Sirius’ side. “Is this about what Logan said on the ice? About going home?”

“You already heard it?”

“Well, it’s all over the internet. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“It’s…” Sirius shook his head. “It’s kind of amazing. The…” He pressed his lips together. He didn’t even know how to say it.

“I know,” Remus said softly.

Sirius smiled. “Of course you do.” He dropped his phone and headphones to the side and wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist, scooping him closer. “Ça va?”

“Well. My mom has left to go grocery shopping with James—God help her. Lily just texted me that her and my dad just arrived in town for grill stuff and extra ice and more beach chairs—they’re also going to take Harry to story time at the library, which is in an hour and a half…”

Sirius blinked in surprise when Remus’ threw a thigh over his lap and settled there, all muscle and warm weight for Sirius to get his hands on.

“Regulus just took Julian to the skate park,” Remus continued. “And no one is supposed to arrive here until this afternoon.”

Sirius hands tightened on Remus’ waist. Suddenly, he could see it. He didn’t know how he had missed it before. Remus’ cheeks were flushed with anticipation—anticipation for Sirius. He wanted him. It was in the curve of his shoulders and the way he arched slightly into Sirius’ hands.

“Are you…” Sirius blinked around the house. Quiet. So quiet. “You mean—we’re alone?”

The breath Remus let out had a soft, needy sound in it. “We are so, so alone.”

“Oh…” Sirius managed, and then Remus pressed a hard, open kiss to his mouth.

Sirius’ world went a little blurred at the edges. Remus spread his knees around Sirius’ thighs and pressed his hips down. He was already half-hard, maybe just at the thought of coming over to Sirius, and Sirius spread his palms over Remus’ ass to press him down harder.

“God,” Remus whispered into his next kiss.

They had been careful. Good, quiet, and careful. Remus’ hair was sun-warmed as it slipped through Sirius’ fingers.

“We—” Sirius pushed his hands up and under Remus’ shirt.

“Upstairs,” Remus said.

Sirius thought of that creaky, creaky bed and had never wanted to be anywhere more. He couldn’t help laughing as they stood. He felt jittery. A sugar-high but it was all Remus. In the bend of the tight staircase, Sirius found himself pressed up against the wall. A picture frame holding a print of the oil-painted lake rattled as his shoulder knocked it. By the time he looked away from it, making sure it wasn’t in danger of falling, Remus had sunk to his knees.

“Re,” Sirius breathed. The laugh that followed was more a breath than anything. Just a tumble of pent up energy that was beginning to realize the gates were open and the sun and sky were being let in.

Remus just looked up at him. His hazel eyes were glassy, pupils dark. He reached for the elastic band of the shorts Sirius wore, but only tucked his fingers into them as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Sirius to the material. Sirius felt his ab muscles jump at even the glimpse of heat. He pushed his fingers into Remus’ hair and tightened his grip, enjoying the way Remus’ eyes slipped closed, the soft smile that crossed his face.

“Don’t make me wait,” Sirius said. He moved his free hand to push the material of his shorts down until he could grip himself freely. The word alone had nearly been enough for him, like every inch of him knew how long it had been.

Sirius’ body, his whole world, curved towards the heat of Remus’ mouth. His nails dug into the backs of Sirius’ thighs, little pin-pricks of sharpness to accompany the all-consuming blush of pleasure that made him sigh. Sirius’ head thumped back against the wall, his mouth open and his breath shallow. Remus wasn’t making him wait. His pace was fast, his tongue pressing the underside almost too firmly. Sirius was going to come too quick. He could already feel it rushing towards him, drawing him taut.

“Wait, okay, wait, wait,” Sirius panted, tightening his fingers again to ease Remus to a slower drag. “Re, I’m so close. I’m so fucking close.”

Remus made a soft noise and pulled off. He stood, steadying himself with a hand on Sirius’ chest. Sirius cupped a hand over where Remus tented his shorts and pressed the heel of his palm down hard.

“Me too,” Remus said through a shaky laugh. He pushed into Sirius’ hand and Sirius watched the way his jaw tightened. “Oh…”

Sirius knew that, if one of them didn’t move, they were going to end up grinding against each other in this stairwell. He wanted more than that. He wanted Remus completely bare and spread out beneath him.

“Come here,” Sirius said. He turned Remus so he faced the stairs.

“Can you…” Remus stopped just halfway up, his head falling back against Sirius’ shoulder. He covered Sirius’ hand with his. Sirius let Remus guide his hand up his clothed shaft for only a few moments, kissing along his neck, before he eased them forward again again.

Sirius had dampened the snug front of his boxers by the time they were falling onto their bed. The mattress gave a whine, drawing a brief laugh from both of them, but there was no one to hear. Alone, giving a voice to the pressure in his chest, it only turned him on. It shifted when Sirius did, pulling Remus’ shirt and shorts away, and creaked again as Sirius bent over his body.

No one was crafted like Remus Lupin. No one. Sirius set his mouth against the strong cut of his hips. They pushed up against his mouth and Sirius tugged his own shorts away. His t-shirt followed, left to share a heap on the floor. Sirius kissed the pale line of skin where his swim trunks hid him from the sun, then the fainter ones along his biceps and neck. They got lost to grinding against each other again, all skin now, their own desperation turning it into a smooth glide.

“Where’s—” Sirius began to question, but Remus shook his head almost wildly.

“I don’t know,” he panted. “I don’t know, I don’t know, don’t get up, just—” He looked almost frantic. “Oh, fuck…”

Sirius had pressed them together again, aligned so perfectly that they could feel all of each other. He reached down for Remus’ thigh and coaxed it around his hip.

No, he couldn’t get up. He couldn’t leave this warmth right now, not for anything. He tucked his nose into Remus’ neck as he ground his hips forward. He smelled like heat. Like the soft forest that surrounded them. Remus’ heel pressed into Sirius’ back and his hands went into his dark hair.

The bed groaned in time with Remus’ soft sounds. Sirius’ only warning that Remus was coming was when those sounds choked off and missed a beat. The warm flood between them had Sirius setting his panting mouth against Remus’ shoulder. A knocking momentarily startled a gasp from Sirius, but it was only the bed against the wall as he fucked forward, watching Remus’ golden, hooded eyes.

“Oh, God,” Remus’ voice went tight, his neck arching up, head pushing down into the pillows. “Keep…Sirius—”

It sounded so good, the rest of his life. Remus saying his name like that. It sent him right over the edge. Remus lifted his head for a sloppy kiss that had a sated, finally sort of smile in it. His foot slipped from Sirius’ back to the mattress.

Maybe not the most romantic of their moments, but Sirius glanced towards the bedside table. They had over an hour. That had been over too quickly for Sirius’ liking, but the second Remus had crawled into his lap he’d known he was a goner.

“Next time,” Remus whispered. “We’ll be married.”

“Mm, not next time,” Sirius said. He pushed himself up on his elbows. He brushed their noses together. “Next time is going to be in just a few minutes.”

Remus stretched out against him, laughing. “Oh, good.”

Sirius could only hope they looked normal when they heard Hope’s car pull back into the driveway. They’d lay there three rounds in, sort of kissing, sort of fading in and out of an afternoon nap, but naked with the sheets pushed down and the warm breeze coming in front the open window, tangled up in each other in a way they usually couldn’t—not when Julian really, really didn’t know how to knock on doors first. Remus had groaned after a few hours, saying they were pushing their luck and that a car could be back any moment. No sooner had Sirius finished getting dressed again than had they heard the crunch of gravel.

“Hey, Hope,” Sirius said. He adjusted his shirt and held out his arms to help carry the groceries inside. He still felt hot. He still felt Remus.

“Hello, honey,” Hope said, handing him two bags. She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Remind me to never take James Potter to a grocery store again.”

Sirius laughed. “Okay?”

“I asked for green onions and he brought me asparagus.”

“Wow,” Sirius said. “I’d make fun of him, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have made the same mistake.”

He brought the bags into the kitchen where James was unloading things into the fridge and cupboards.

He held up two limes and raised his eyebrows, a look Sirius returned with silent questions.

“How’s it going?” James asked.

“Good? You?”

“No, no,” James waved a lime. “How’s it going. You look a little…” A smile fought at his mouth. “Sunburned.”

Sirius scoffed. “I’m not.”

“Little flush.”

Oh. James’ eyes flicked to Remus, who they could just see through the windows taking more stuff out of the car.

“James,” Sirius grumbled.

“Did you get some…sun?”

With a roll of his eyes, Sirius nodded.

“Atta boy.” James’ laugh was knowing, and he patted a hand to Sirius’ chest. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m welcome?”

James leaned in conspiratorially. “Here are some things you should know about me.” He held up a fist and opened up a finger as he spoke. “One? I am a terrible grocery shopper. Ask Lily,” James said. “I make the thing take three times as long.” He took out his phone. “Two? My son takes after me and loves a good story time. A little help from Google.”

Sirius just shook his head. “I can’t believe…And Regulus and Jules?”

“Well. I was ready to slip Jules a twenty, but…” James shrugged. “I think they just wanted to hang out.”

As if on cue, a second car pulled into the driveway. Sirius and Remus’. Regulus put the car into park and opened his door, then, from the back, out tumbled Julian, talking a mile-a-minute. Both of them were sweaty, the sweat showing in Julian’s mussed hair and at the neck of Regulus’ t-shirt, and bother were—laughing. Real laughter. Hard laughter. It was a sight, to say the least, to see Regulus holding a pair of skates—even if they had wheels instead of blades—and smiling like that. As Sirius watched Regulus tossed an arm around Julian’s shoulder and messed up his hair even further.

Sirius took a bag from James and began to unpack it as he watched—he ended up just holding a pack of hamburger buns and staring. They ditched their skates and went over to help Hope and Remus. Julian was given the bag of ice to carry. He didn’t even seem to mind the cold as he walked happily between Sirius’ brother and his own.

“Nice to see him like that,” James’ voice came.

Sirius, when he went to speak, found his throat tight. When James’ hand appeared on his shoulder, he didn’t flinch, but leaned into it. “You have no idea.”

~

The cars started arriving around three. First, Thomas and Noelle.

“Okay, Lupins,” Thomas called as he shut the driver’s side door. He lifted his sunglasses to perch them on his head. “I see how it is, secret spot, personal paradise.”

Sirius followed behind as Remus jogged down the driveway and threw his arms around Thomas’ neck. They stumbled a little, rocking, and Thomas’ slapped him playfully on the back.

“We are so ready to party this shit up,” he said—then looked at Hope and put his hands to his mouth. “My apologies, Mrs. Lupin.”

“We are ready to help with dinner,” Noelle cut in. She came around and opened her arms to Sirius. “And literally anything else that needs help.”

Sirius smiled. “You’re our guests. Thanks for making the drive. Where’s your brother?”

“Probably being wrangled—with Finn—by Leo into actually remembering to pack their suits.” Noelle said, then nudged her shoulder against Sirius’. “You should call him. Nothing will get his ass into action than a call from you.”

Sirius laughed. “I count on that.”

“I have such a surprise for you,” Thomas said.

“Don’t panic,” Noelle added. “He means that in a good way.”

“A good way?” Sirius asked skeptically.

Noelle laughed. “It’s a good surprise. Now, go call my brother otherwise they’ll get here at eight. Also—” She held up a bag. “I brought some wine that should go somewhere cold.”

Sirius laughed and nodded towards the house. “I’ll show you.”

It was an interesting feeling, walking with Noelle. She had a similar presence as Logan, soft but steady.

“Have you, ah…” Sirius had wanted a moment to ask her, but now that it had come, he wasn’t sure how.

“I didn’t know the mics would catch it,” Noelle said, her face going a little drawn. “I…I mean, he basically said it in my ear, I didn’t think…” She sighed as Sirius opened the screen door into the house for him. “At least he said exactly what he wanted to say. That’s all I mind.”

Sirius took the wine from her, two crisp looking bottles of white. “Did he tell you about me?”

“You?” She blinked, confused.

Sirius turned and opened the fridge—already pretty full, but managed to slot the bottles somewhere between two bags of lettuce. He swallowed, letting the fridge’s coolness wash over his face. He switched to French. Somehow, it was easier in French. “We’re not the same team without him.”

He turned to face her again. “And I don’t just mean on the ice.”

Noelle had Logan’s features. The full mouth and the thick eyelashes that shaded green eyes. They went interested and sad in just the same way as her brother’s.

“It was hard on all of us when he got forced out,” Sirius said. “Especially—well, Leo was…sort of okay, I guess. Sometimes okay. Trying to be okay. But Finn…”

“Finn and Lo…” Noelle sighed. “Yeah, they don’t really do distance very well.”

Sirius nodded. He fiddled with a magnet on the fridge that held up a photograph of a young Remus, maybe just seven years old or so.

Sirius didn’t know what else to do other than just…say it.

“I’d like to have a few of us to take a pay cut so we have the space to bring him back,” Sirius said in a rush. He swallowed when Noelle’s mouth dropped open. “Home. And—and, of course, I would be one of them, I’d never ask that without being—”

But Noelle had already thrown her arms around him.

“I don’t know if it’s going to work,” Sirius said. Slowly, he settled his hands on her back. “But I wanted—when I heard what he said to you, I wanted you to know what we’re trying.”

“Sirius,” Noelle began softly. “You…You changed his life.”

She pulled back to look at him, her hands holding his shoulders. With her soft eyes, Logan’s eyes, Sirius didn’t mind so much.

“I hope you realize how much you helped him. You…He’d kill me for blubbering over it to you of all people, and I know, I know none of it was easy, but I am so, so grateful to you. And Remus. And I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m really happy to be here. With Thomas, yeah, but also just…because I appreciate you two. More than I can say. You…” She had to stop, green eyes filled up. “Sirius, you saved by baby brother’s life in so many ways.”

“That’s him for me, too,” Sirius managed. “And…Really, I’m going to do what I can.”

“I know,” Noelle said. “Fuck, I know you are.”

They stood by the fridge until Sirius heard Remus and Thomas laughing as they came into the house.

“On that note,” she laughed wetly, patting his shoulder. “Go call him and see where he is.”

Sirius wandered out towards the lake. He shook out a beach chair until the joints clicked into place and sat down while the phone rang.

“Sirius Black,” Finn’s voice came. “You gave us just enough time for the hangovers to disappear, and I thank you for that.”

Sirius snorted. Well, Finn sounded all right, at least. “Hey. How were the Cup parties?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Finn laughed.

Sirius thought of the podcast he’d listened to that morning—though, after Remus, it felt like years ago. “As long as you guys are good.”

“We’re—” Finn sighed. “The phone is being snatched from me. See you soon, groom.”

“Cap,” Logan’s voice came. “Is my sister there?”

“Yeah. Where are you?” Sirius asked. “I want to see you.”

“We’re about to get in the car.”

A rustle, then Leo’s voice, like he’d pulled the phone towards him. “I’ve been trying, Cap, believe me.”

Sirius laughed. “Thanks for coming all the way out here. I know all you probably really want to do is relax.”

“Oh, ouais.” Logan again. “It’s so hard to come to a beautiful lake to watch my best friends get married.”

Sirius smiled, eyes on the water. “It is pretty gorgeous.” He reached down and trailed sand through his fingers. “You’re all over the internet.”

Logan didn’t reply for a moment. Only the sound of suitcase wheels and something being shut—a drawer maybe—filled the silence.

“I am all over the internet,” Logan finally repeated. “I am ‘a player of a generation.’ And I am in love with two boys, which no one can ignore now.”

“Two boys?” Sirius heard Finn’s voice. “Where is this other boy—oh, there he is, howdy…”

Logan let out a sound that sounded all smile and hopelessly smitten. “Mm…Ah, what were we talking about?”

Sirius couldn’t help his smile. It actually hurt a little. “I thought I was a player of a generation.”

“You are the player of a lot of generations.”

“Shut up.”

“You are!” Leo shouted from the other end of the line.

“We’ll be there soon,” Logan said. “We’ll come straight to you.”

“And…” Sirius hoped his hesitation was enough to let Logan know he was asking about their cabin.

“Uh-huh, all good there.”

“Does Sirius Black know your secret?” Finn asked. “The one you’ve been keeping from us.”

Logan’s laugh was bright. “He does.”

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, then jumped a little when someone fell down into the sand beside him. Regulus just raised his eyebrows in greeting before looking out onto the water.

“I do,” Sirius said. “Drive safe, okay?”

He heard the click of Logan hanging up. It left him to the waves, the sun, some music now coming from the house, and the quiet ways of his brother. Regulus was frowning at the waves and picking at one of his nails like he was nervous.

Sirius reached out, hesitating for only a moment, and settled his palm lightly on the back of Regulus’ neck, scratching gentle fingers through the buzzed hair there. To his surprise and relief, Regulus leaned into his touch.

“Salut,” Sirius said. “You okay?”

Regulus nodded. “Tomorrow,” he began, then cleared his throat. “There’s someone coming tomorrow night.”

“D’accord,” Sirius said. Phone calls taken on the porch.

When Regulus looked at him, the angle of the sun made his already pale eyes look almost clear. “And she’s important.”

~

Remus never wanted to see the cabin any other way again. Thomas, Noelle, Kasey, Natalie, Alex, Cole, Layla, Moody, Arthur, Pascal, Celeste, and all the Dumais children. Katie Dumais, facing away from Remus, had clearly just said or done something that had Julian looking after her darting away figure, slack-jawed.

He was happy to stand at the grill with his dad and let a steady rotation of his friends keep him company. He liked watching Sirius across the beach, standing with James and Kasey in only his swim trunks with the sun making water gleam across his chest. He felt like someone had stretched out every single knot in his muscles after that afternoon. Getting his mouth on Sirius, getting his warm skin slick against his own. Remus flipped a burger with his eyes still mostly on Sirius and nearly sent the whole thing to the floor.

Only the sound of car wheels on the gravel drive made him look away.

“Fucking finally,” Remus shouted as Finn popped the driver’s side door. “You were going to miss dinner.”

“It’s not my fault someone can’t use Google maps,” Finn called.

“I can,” Logan said, pushing out of the back seat. Leo, coming around from the passenger’s side, gave Remus and smile and an eye-roll.

“Sorry, Loops,” Leo called. He went to the trunk, popping it before emerging with two coolers.

“Oh my God,” Remus said. “What did you do?”

“My mama’s famous crab cakes,” Leo said. “The best french onion dip you’ve ever had, and some fresh sourdough bread, baked this morning.”

Remus handed the tongs off to his dad and went to the the coolers. “You’re the best, you really just needed to bring yourselves.”

Up close, Remus finally got a proper look at Logan, tucked under Finn’s arm. He had a taped-up cut along his cheek, a fresh looking black eye, and scraped up knuckles.

“Oh God,” Remus snorted. “Your face.”

“He’s going to ruin the wedding photos,” Finn said. “So sorry.”

“You said I looked hot last night,” Logan replied.

“You do. But in wedding photos? I don’t know.”

Logan hit his chest weakly and slipped out from his grasp to go find Sirius.

“Ice that knee of yours!” Remus shouted after him, and Finn cackled.

Remus watched Sirius’ eyes find Logan walking towards him. He watched Logan hug him tightly, despite the fact that he was wet. Logan pointed to the dock, and held up his hand. By Sirius’ smile and nod, Remus guessed he had asked if that was where the ceremony was going to take place. Sirius kept talking, fast for him, fast like he was telling Logan a play while they were on the ice, as they walked over to the drinks table. Finn was already there, pouring coke into a cup for Logan and a gin and tonic for Leo and himself.

The sweeter sight was the expression on Sirius and Logan’s face when Pascal came up behind them and put an arm around them both. 

“Leave this, yeah?” His father appeared at his side, squeezing his shoulder. “Go hang out with your friends, bud.”

“Oh, thanks, dad.” Remus handed off the tongs.

“And try to keep your brother from bouncing off the walls at Alex O’Hara’s presence.”

Remus laughed. “He’d just lose it over someone else.”

Remus made it about six steps before Thomas Walker cornered him.

“All right, Lupin, it’s time.” Thomas leaned back against the side of the house and crossed his arms. “Let’s talk party.”

“Ah, yes,” Remus said. “It’s you against my beautifully sleepy town.”

“It really is,” Thomas nodded sagely. “And guess what? I’m going to win.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “My God. Come here.”

Remus got himself a beer and steered Thomas towards where Sirius, Regulus, and Leo were sitting around the easy-burning campfire Hope had gotten started. Remus took the spot beside Sirius, Thomas beside Leo.

“Tell him to chill,” Remus said to Sirius. “In your Captain voice.”

Sirius blinked at him, cleared his throat a few times, then shook his head. “I think it only happens when it has to.”

Leo laughed. “What, you can’t summon it on command?”

“He would if he could,” Regulus said, then stood up. “Come on, Le. I have a feeling more wedding talk is about to happen, and I’ve had enough of that to last me a while. Let’s get some food.”

“Bring me more chips,” Sirius tilted his head back as Regulus walked behind him.

“No,” Regulus said.

Sirius cleared his throat again and said in a deeper voice, “Bring me more chips.”

Regulus laughed. “No.”

Sirius popped the last of the ones on his plate into his mouth. “No captain voice, sorry.”

Thomas clapped his hands, then rubbed his palms together and leaned forward. “I have sat you both down here today to discuss—le parties.”

“It’s not French by adding le,” Sirius said.

“La parties,” Thomas grinned.

“I was trying to explain how sleepy—” Remus began.

“La parties,” Thomas tried again.

Sirius reached for Remus’ plate and threw an olive at him.

“—this town is,” Remus grabbed the second olive out of Sirius’ fingers and ate it. “And I mean that in the most loving way possible, quiet. So. I recommend we go to some of the bars and not have anyone lose their minds.”

“How do we make sure you don’t end up at the same bars?” Thomas asked.

“I’m going to be at the house Logan rented mostly,” Sirius said.

“And I want to go to that pub on main street,” Remus said. “The owner and I go way back, he’ll give us the roof.”

“Also,” Sirius said. “Would it really be so bad if we ended up at the same—”

“Not at all, baby,” Remus said at the same time as Thomas’ enthusiastic, “Yeah.”

“T,” Remus laughed. “We—this isn’t exactly the world’s most traditional wedding. We’re already getting married on a dock. You really think we can’t be together for—what?” Remus raised his eyebrows. “Our ‘last night of freedom?’”

“All right, all right.” Thomas held up his hands in surrender. “Think of it this way, then.” He pointed to Remus’ beer. “Can I have a sip, I have a speech and no drink.”

Remus handed it over, sharing a smile with Sirius.

Thomas’ sip turned into draining half the bottle and handing it back to Remus with a grin.

“Think of it this way,” Thomas said. “It’s not just for you. It’s also for me.” He raised his hands, looking over both shoulders at the yard, the fire, the tables where people sat eating. “It’s for us.” He looked towards the beach and smiled, pointing. “It’s for them.”

Remus followed his gaze and smiled, too. Finn and Logan were in the water, Logan in Finn’s arms, their heads bent close together.

“You’re together,” Thomas said, and when Remus looked back at him. “And it sort of feels like you always have been together. You have a long time to be together in your togetherness.” Thomas tilted his head, thinking, then spread his hands again. “This togetherness is for us, too, to appreciate and celebrate both of you in the ways you deserve. Not just as a couple. But as yourselves.”

“You enjoying yourself there, T?” Remus asked, trying not to smile.

“Well, only if you let me throw you some parties.”

Sirius laughed. “D’accord. Throw us parties.”

“For the record, I was never not ready for a party,” Remus stood and sat beside Thomas, settling his arm around his shoulders when Thomas did the same. “But I liked the speech, T.”

Thomas grinned. “Just wait for your wedding day, Re.”

~

Logan walked through the entire Lupin cabin, moving between having to squint against the setting sun, which angled perfectly into the lake-front sitting room, and blink so his eyes adjusted to the darker rooms. He’d even gone upstairs, where he’d heard Hope direct people towards to change out of wet bathing suits. It was a bit of a maze. Not because it was large. The house was on the smaller side—though Leo would make him reevaluate what he considered small—but had been divided up into more rooms than usual. Bedrooms, cozy but tiny. He poked his head into what must have been Sirius and Remus’.

No Finn. He used the top window to better search the yard, then went back downstairs and onto the porch to search the beach. Finally, he found him. In the water, floating alone near the end of the dock. His toes surfaced every once in a while as he floated on his back and Logan wanted—he didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted him, wanted to be in that water where the sunset had turned the lake into rippling orange and pink glass.

When Logan reached the dock, Finn must have heard the shake of the boards because he turned.

“Oh, hi there, baby,” Finn grinned.

“Hi.” Logan set his drink down as he lowered himself to sit at the very end, putting his feet in the water.

Finn’s chest was pale beneath the water as he stroked towards him. He stayed low as he stopped in the water just below Logan. His shoulders took on the pink of the sky and Logan leaned forward as best he could and brushed his fingers over the freckles there. Finn caught one wrist and kissed the inside of it. Logan let him, admiring the way the light caught on his face and how the water had pushed his hair back.

“Where’s Le?” Finn asked.

“Catching up with Reg.” Logan nudged his toes against Finn’s chest. “Been looking for you.”

Finn wrapped his hands around Logan’s ankles and gave a small tug. “Come in with me.”

Logan bit his lip, smiling. “Okay.”

Finn watched as Logan stripped off his shirt and drained the last of his drink.

“Cold?”

“Not at all,” Finn said.

He had barely submerged in the water before he was in Finn’s arms. Finn dunked them anyway, and the sounds of the party momentarily silenced in the clear water. Logan felt Finn’s mouth press to his, and then they were in the evening air again, and Logan blinked the water out of his eyes. Finn’s skin was warm as he coaxed Logan’s legs around his waist.

“You need a haircut,” Finn said.

“I know,” Logan said, wiping his hair back. “What about the beard? Sirius was making fun of it.”

“I’d call it scruff.” He smiled at Logan’s scoff. “And I think you should keep it a few more days.” Finn leaned forward and bit gently at the stubble on Logan’s jaw and lowered his voice. “Will you suck me off later? Scratchy.”

Logan groaned and pressed their foreheads together. “I’m in a wet swimsuit, you can’t say that right now.”

“But you have to before you shave,” Finn pressed his smile against Logan’s cheek. “Promise?”

“Ouais, ouais, promise, now shh.” Logan looked down. “Are you standing?”

“No, I’m the most still water-treader in the world.”

Logan splashed his hand down and Finn spluttered through a laugh when he got a face full of water.

“Yes, I’m standing,” Finn said. “And I could hold you like this for hours.”

“Do it.” Logan sighed and let himself relax into Finn’s hold. “I love everyone, but I’m tired of talking to anyone but you and Le.”

“Well, I’m right here.” Finn tilted his chin up and kissed Logan quick. “What do you feel feel like saying?”

Logan blinked. It could have been the feeling of water running down his back and shoulders. Or the sun setting. Or the warm air. Or just that he was alone with Finn in a large body of water and with his muscles still aching from the play-offs, he could imagine that it was his heart aching instead. He’d had just one drink, he needed to drive them to their cabin later, but it was recent enough that everything went soft like those colors in the sky, and, for a moment, Logan wanted to fall apart.

“Hm?” Finn asked softly, but Logan could tell he knew. “What’s that look for? I was just messing.” His brown eyes—but no, the light slanted across them, it turned them lighter, so light that Logan thought he could see deeper into them and might find the right words there. The words that Finn always seemed to have. Finn blinked, and a drop of water fell down his cheek.

“Don’t,” Logan said in a rush, putting a panicked hand on Finn’s cheek. “Don’t cry, je t’aime, I love you—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Finn said, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I’m not crying?”

He blinked again, and Logan watched two more droplets fall. Water, he realized. Lake water caught in his eyelashes and brows.

“Oh,” Logan said softly. He let his hand slide to Finn’s neck. He closed his eyes, shaking his head at himself. “Oh. Good.”

He couldn’t see Finn’s kiss coming, but it wasn’t a surprise.

“We’re all right,” Finn said. “I love you, too.”

Logan nodded. He kept his eyes closed, tightened his hold on Finn. He wouldn’t bring it up. That midnight in the water, years ago. All the words that had pent up in his chest. He didn’t need to be comforted through it.

“And I’d ask you to race me to the raft,” Finn whispered. “But I’d definitely win.”

Logan smiled, his laugh falling between them. “I’ll win tomorrow.”

“Mm,” Finn said. “This mystery of yours.”

Logan smiled and pushed his hands through Finn’s hair until he could cup his jaw and pull him into a kiss. Finn brought him closer, hands on Logan’s ass in a way that wasn’t any better than him biting at Logan’s jaw. Logan hummed at the brush of Finn’s tongue against his and locked his ankles tighter around Finn’s waist.

“Do you think anyone—” Logan gasped out the words as Finn got his teeth on his throat. “—would notice…”

Finn’s kisses dissolved into a laugh and he pulled back to look at Logan. “The house is right there, Lo.”

Logan looked over his shoulder towards the shore, frowning. “Hm. Ouais.”

Finn’s laughed harder, head tilting back. Water lapped against them as he hoisted Logan closer. “Your face.”

Logan snorted. “Well, I…” He looked pointedly down at Finn’s bare chest.

“Are we not going to have our very own private beach soon enough?”

Logan opened his mouth. “Quoi—that’s not—” He leaned down and stopped Finn’s laugh with a kiss, keeping their lips close as he growled, “You don’t know anything.”

“I know you,” Finn replied.

“You said I was a mystery.”

Finn laughed hard. “I said it was a mystery, but you are also a baby mystery of your own.” He slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Logan’s swimsuit to feel his bare, smooth skin. “I love solving you…”

Logan took Finn’s lower lip gently between his teeth and pulled playfully before letting it go.

“Finn, Finn, Finn…” Logan whispered, and Finn’s gaze went melted. Logan pressed a kiss to one corner of his mouth. “Je t’aime.” He pressed a kiss to the other. “Je t’aime, je t’aime.” He brushed their noses together, back and forth three times.

“I know where you went,” Finn said softly.

Finn, Logan thought. Ocean. Nice. Say something, anything—

  Finn spanned his hands up Logan’s back, thumbs swiping back and forth over the high of his ribs. “Just now. Just for a second.”

Logan nodded quickly. “Just for a second.”

Finn’s smile started small. “And where are you now?” He squeezed Logan tighter, a small pulse of his arms, like a reminder.

As if Logan needed one. Logan grinned, amazed, absolutely giddy with relief that they were both grinning at each other through this. He pressed a thumb over Finn’s lower lip, feeling his smile. “Ici. I’m here.”

~

Sirius was coming up the stairs to change out of his wet swimsuit when his bedroom door opened and Finn and Logan stepped out.

Immediately Finn had his hands up. “Just dry clothes were put on. Cross my heart.”

Sirius laughed, eyeing Logan’s face. “Oh yeah?”

Logan was blushing, but Sirius figured he’d probably be doing that either way.

“Ouais,” Logan said, fingers curling around Finn’s to push his hands down. “He’s telling the truth.”

Their hands swung lightly, tangled between them.

“Pretty jumpy for the truth,” Sirius said. “Hey, actually—” He nodded to Logan. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Logan’s eyebrows went up, but he nodded. He looked up at Finn. “Meet you…wherever Leo is.”

“Deal,” Finn said. He patted Sirius’ shoulder on his way down the stairs.

Logan followed Sirius back into his bedroom and sat on the end of the bed. Sirius did a double-take, but someone—Remus—had made it up from earlier that day. He cleared his throat and turned towards the dresser.

“What just happened?” Logan asked in French, amused.

“Nothing,” Sirius said. “So, parties. Tomorrow night.”

“My house, yeah.”

“But also—” Sirius took a fresh shirt from the dresser and turned towards Logan as he pulled it on. “I talked to your sister. I hope that’s okay.”

Logan’s green eyes went soft. Maybe worried.

“Shit,” Sirius said, hands on the ties of his swimsuit. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” Logan said. He wet his bottom lip. “I just…”

Sirius reached for his underwear and shorts while Logan settled on words. When he turned back towards the bed, Logan gave him a helpless sort of shrug.

“I don’t mind. I just don’t want everyone to get their hopes up too much.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “But the entire fanbase—both of them—are calling for you to go back where you want to be.”

“Well, not all of them.”

Sirius nodded. He’d seen the hateful stuff, too. He knew however they ignored it, it still dug deep. “How are you with all that?”

Logan flashed him a half smile. “Captain.”

Sirius laughed and sat beside him on the bed. “Yeah.”

“I’m fine,” Logan said. “Which is…” He gave his head a sharp shake, like he was clearing it. “I…I was talking about this with Noelle, actually.”

“Hm,” Sirius said.

“I think about how long I dreaded it,” Logan said. “I mean, at school, just staring at Finn, completely gone over him, and dreading it. But now it’s here. And I have them. And I’m…so perfect.”

Sirius feigned a cough around his words. “Back to back Cups.”

Logan shoved him.

“Really, though,” Sirius said. “I know it’s partly that they want your talent in their own city, but people also want you and Finn and Leo…” Sirius shook his head. “I am sorry you didn’t see the microphone when you talked about going home, I know you probably didn’t want all this sort of attention, but…It’s incredible, Logan. It’s not just that they want you to be where you think home is. It’s that they want you to be with who you think home is. A couple years ago, if I had told someone I thought Remus was home…” Sirius shook his head.

Logan didn’t say anything. He twisted his silver pendant between his fingers.

Sirius frowned. “Tremz?”

Logan cleared his throat. “Ouais. It’s even more than I had hoped for.”

Sirius hesitated. He tried to think of what he’d said that was wrong, peering closer at Logan’s face. When he did, he saw that the silence wasn’t distress. Logan was biting back a small smile.

“Oh…” Sirius laughed lightly, disbelieving. “You saw it.”

Logan gave a funny little shrug.

“Oh my God, Tremz. You knew the mic would catch it. You wanted them to hear you.”

“I am trying to get home.” Logan sighed. “I thought it might get some more people on my side.”

“Fuck. Do the boys know?”

“Still trying not to get their hopes up,” Logan said. “But…Leo really likes that I said it. Leo also really, really missing me being home. I mean, Finn, yes, of course, but Leo and I…” Logan swallowed. “We’re quiet together in a way that’s just for us. I miss him so much.”

Sirius nodded. Remus was that for him. But he was also someone he could be louder with, more free. It must be interesting, to be in Logan’s shoes. Different needs met by two different people.

“I also couldn’t have done it without you,” Logan said. “And Remus. And I know nothing happened the way you wanted it to, but…I couldn’t have done anything without both of you.”

Sirius put an arm around Logan’s shoulder and Logan clasped his hand. “And a lot of people will say the same thing about you.”

“Well…” Logan was pink-cheeked again. “Ouais, I hope.”

They sat there in silence for a long moment, smiling among the sounds of their friends and family outside.

“Okay, truth, before we go,” Sirius said and gestured towards the bed. “Did you and Finn…”

Logan scoffed and hit him in the chest. “No.” He paused. “Almost. In the ocean.”

“Tremz, that’s not a fucking ocean.”

Logan paused, then laughed, closing his eyes. “I meant lake.”

“Jesus Christ.” Sirius rose and stretched, then went to the mirror to try and wrangle the wet tangles of his hair.

“Don’t tell me you and Remus haven’t—”

“Are you joking? If Julian so much as sees us on the beach, he comes with us.”

Logan snorted. “Oh shit. Maybe you two should take our cabin for the night.”

“I accept.”

“Non.” Logan stood up. “Not a chance, that was a joke.” He moved to the doorway. “But hey.”

Sirius was still laughing as they walked down the stairs together. “What?”

“Tomorrow night’s going to be fun.”

Sirius nodded, then put a hand out to stop Logan from turning out of their quiet hallway just yet. “Hey.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Even if it doesn’t happen next season,” Sirius said. “We keep trying.”

A small flash of fear—because of course Logan was scared of that—but he nodded. “We keep trying.”

~

“I’m not kidding,” Finn said, squinting through the windshield from his place in the back seat as Logan drove slowly down a dirt road. “It looks like you’re taking us somewhere to kill us.”

The headlines illuminated the complete darkness save for a few solar lamps that illuminated house numbers. Each one was different—a 38 on a cluster of carved pines, a 46 on a bear raised on its back legs, a 50 on the silhouette of a lighthouse.

“We’re almost there,” Logan said.

“It looks like forest,” Finn protested.

“Harz,” Leo said from the passenger seat. “It is forest.”

“And I’m not taking you here to kill you,” Logan said. “You’ll see what I’ll do to you soon enough.”

“Hell yeah,” Leo reached over and squeezed the back of his neck.

Finn was quiet, but when Logan darted a glance in his rearview mirror, he was biting his lip against a grin.

“All right, then,” Finn said.

Leo threw his hand out. “Deer, Lo, deer, stop, stop, stop.”

Logan eased the car to a stop just as Finn let out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he whispered.

Three does, eyes reflecting at them in the headlights, stood at the side of the road, half hidden in the trees.

Leo rolled down his window, letting in the cool night air. “Hi, babies, hi.”

Their ears twitched at Leo’s voice, listening.

“Stay away from the road, sweethearts.”

Finn reached up and hit Logan’s arm, and they smiled at each other before looking back at Leo.

The deer looked on for another moment, tails twitching, before they darted into the trees, disappearing in a handful of silent seconds.

Logan found the right drive and turned in, letting the headlights wash over the house.

“Oh, Lo…” Leo leaned forward in his seat, peering up through the windshield.

Logan cut the engine. “My mystery.”

Leo grinned at him before opening his door.

While they got the bags, Logan checked his email again and then turned up the flashlight on his phone to find the small rock that the owner had hidden the key beneath. It smelled like pine inside and Logan felt right at home. He flicked on lights as he went, revealing a spacious living room with windows facing the lake and a kitchen large enough to host in. He smiled as he listened to Finn and Leo’s voices mixed with suitcase wheels hitting the floor and their footsteps following his.

They settled in easily, tired from the drive. They crowded each other in the bathroom, and when Leo snuck into the shower while Logan was washing the lake off of him, when and both of them emerged sated and flushed, Finn just grinned and turned the page of his book.

“That was fun to listen to.”

“Was it?” Leo straddled his knees and hooked two fingers into the band above the tight front of Finn’s pajama pants. He bent to kiss over the shape of Finn, then looked at Logan and tilted his head.

Finn cursed under his breath and closed his book. “I love us and vacations.” Logan watched as Finn tilted his head back and knit his brows when Leo bent to take him in his mouth. 

Later, with a still fast beating heart, Logan lifted his arm and Leo knelt on the soft mattress until he could curl against his side. He pushed his nose into Logan’s neck and breathed in.

“Mhmm…” Leo hummed contently. He kissed Logan’s skin. “I think I’m going to sleep so damn good tonight.”

Logan smiled. It was Leo’s favorite sleeping weather. Logan had spent probably too long seeking out the very scene in front of them—porch doors of their master bedroom, currently thrown open with screens in place, letting cool night air in with the sound of lapping waves.

“I know you are,” Logan said. From the other side of the bed, Finn held out a fist, which Logan tapped with his own.

Logan could all but feel Leo relaxing, heavy against his side, his breathing already leveling out.

In the early dawn, and he wasn’t sure what had woken him, Logan found that Finn was staring up at the ceiling. Logan watched the hand on his stomach rise and fall with his even breathing, his fingers fiddling with the tie of his pajama pants. The string had gone wonky in the wash, one side far longer than the other. He looked to Leo. He was already looking back, his blue eyes gray in the dark room. He had his head on his own pillow, not Finn’s shoulder like Logan, but his hand was curled protectively around Finn’s bicep.

It felt good to all be awake. Just being together, laying quiet with all the time in the world tomorrow morning. This was home. It didn’t matter if he’d never slept in this bed before, if the sheets smelled like a forest he didn’t know.

Logan held out his hand, fingertips towards the ceiling, palm towards them. Without a word, Finn picked up his hand and high-fived him. The slap was loud in the room. Logan just clicked his tongue scoldingly and kept his hand there. Leo’s laugh was a short release of air, and he held up his hand, too, palm towards Logan’s, questioningly. Finn pressed his palm right against the back of Logan’s, softly this time. An owl picked up a song somewhere outside. Low notes cooed through their window as Logan slipped his palm away.

Logan picked up the longer tie of Finn’s pajamas, the flat woven strand cottony to the touch. He heard the sound of Finn opening his mouth, probably to ask what he was doing, but he stopped himself as Logan nudged Finn’s and Leo’s hands together. Leo settled his fingers briefly into the spaces between Finn’s, squeezing once before straightening them again.

Logan took the string and threaded it carefully around Finn’s ring finger, then crossed over diagonally and wrapped it around Leo’s, just behind it. He wrapped that path twice more, three small figure-eights binding them together, then dropped his hand to Finn’s chest.

Finn’s heart was beating hard and fast, so fast that Logan felt his cheeks get warm.

Neither Finn or Leo moved. When Logan glanced them over, they were both staring at the string, at their linked hands, bound by Logan’s makeshift rings. Finn’s chest had stopped moving beneath Logan’s head, but it started up again in a deep, easy exhale. Logan cupped their palms and lowered them to rest over the pounding of Finn’s heart. Leo threaded his and Finn’s fingers together and kissed Finn’s shoulder through a smile. Logan settled his hand over theirs and closed his eyes, wishing there was something to bind them together like this every where they went.

[clickoly]

Here is the bingo board for O’Knutzy Week 2025!

O’Knutzy Week 2025 will be July 7th through the 13th! You can write as many things as you would like from this list and please remember to tag this blog and @lumosinlove and tag it! I am so excited to read and see what everyone creates!

[clickoly]

Thinking of tennis Finnlo after their first gala and win 🎾…

[clickoly]

Starboys, part viii

I'm splitting this chapter in two because it’s taking me forever and I feel terrible about it.

Hope y'all enjoy a day in NOLA with the Cubs <3

Character credits and infinite thanks to @lumosinlove!

● ● ●

Lovely, to be rained on with you

The short drive from the airport against a dark cluster of rain-laden clouds had been lost to the second. The rain, loud and sudden, had hit the cobblestone floor of the porch of Leo's parents' house with the same intensity as a raging wave, unexpectedly sweeping the world away from its shore. Logan had jerked in two long strides under the porch roof, scurrying away like a cat afraid of water. Finn had laughed at him, raindrops drawing faint patterns on his freckled cheeks as he waited for Leo to get his duffel bag out of the car; he'd chirped the lock, then caught Leo under the fabric of his trench coat, draping it over their heads as they walked together to the front door. 

Now a thin film of mist covered the cold window pane on which Leo was absentmindedly watching two condensation droplets race each other. They fell at exactly the same speed, encouraged by the heavy drumming of the rain hitting the glass frame from outside—until the smaller one changed its trajectory and took a new path to crash into the other.

"Jack, can you tell us what happened out there with your teammate?"

"Yeah, no. That was such a stupid move, I know. I can't tell you how sorry I am. Honestly, I didn't see him coming."

"Have you two talked?"

"Not yet. But I'm going to find Finn as soon as we're done here to apologize. I respect him a lot, you know. I mean, I've looked up to him for so long I—he's inspired me as a driver, really. The goal is to become at least half as good as he is." 

"And where do you think you stand in his run for the championship?"

"I want to help, of course. And as long as I'm here, I'll do my best. Tremblay is a tough contender and his team is... really good, yeah. But I'd put my money on Finn. Although I guess I'm biased, huh?"

The pattering would have been a lull, a distraction, if only Leo could peacefully close his eyes. He hadn't been able to for a while, he realized. But Leo was home now, and in the next catch of breath he forced himself to focus on the most familiar sounds, soft and endearing, enhanced by a new kind of electrical charge that fit Leo's ears perfectly. 

Logan was on the couch, showing a beaming Wyatt Knut his vintage car collection—the few pictures he kept in his camera roll like a proud dad. Noises of cupboard doors opening and closing came from the kitchen, mixed with his mom's warm laughter and Finn's unmistakable charming voice as he helped Eloise put away the groceries. 

It felt weird for a moment. Curled up on the cushy, old armchair in his parents' living room, close to the window that opened to the backyard—Leo’s favorite spot. The one where he used to drift off to sleep all the time, tired and groggy, with an open book or class notes resting on his legs, until his dad would tuck them away and send him straight to bed. It was the same spot where Leo spent hours and hours snuggled up in soft blankets during the sacred race weekends—a family ritual—or just chatting with his parents, recharging during his periodical visits between busy semesters at Cambridge. There he'd known Finn and Logan for the very first time: two talented and handsome rookies he may or may not have been crushing on ever since. And now it gave Leo goosebumps, feeling how natural it all was. As though Finn and Logan somehow belonged here—in this house overflowing with love and happy memories—if only in Leo's most secret dreams. 

"There he is," a familiar voice broke through Leo's daze. Eloise walked into the living room, followed closely by Finn and his dazzlingly sharp grin—so, so content it made Leo's heart skitter. She came up to Leo and sat on her leg over the puffy arm of the cream-colored armchair. 

"How's my baby?" She asked, lovingly pinching Leo's warm cheeks between her fingers. 

Leo wrinkled his nose in weak protest as he looked up. His mom was wearing that gentle, knowing smile—one that Leo knew very well. It said I'm here if you need me, always giving him enough space to work things out at his own pace, but never alone. 

"He's good," Leo sighed over a smile of his own. "Better now." 

Eloise glanced over at the couch and tilted her head with a fond exhale when she saw how intently Logan and Finn were listening to whatever story Wyatt was telling them. 

"I think we lost him for good."

"Starstruck," Leo laughed.

"Can't really blame him," she arched her thin, blonde eyebrows at him. "Got a couple of star boys over there. Two sweethearts." 

"Yeah," Leo whispered, although mostly to himself. "They really are." 

"Got plans for tonight? Finn said something about Leo's terrific cornbread earlier, so… are you planning on invading my kitchen?" 

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Leo adjusted a small pillow behind his neck. "But yeah, we'll probably stay at home. Watch a movie, maybe. It was… quite the weekend. Well… week," Leo corrected. "It's been a very long week for everyone." 

"Honey..." Eloise whispered, and Leo didn't miss the worry behind that dragged out breath. "Did you..."

Leo shook his head. "No, Mama."

"You should talk to them. It'll make you feel better. I can see how much they care about you."

"I don't know," Leo said, but truthfully he did know in his bones that she was right, and it almost felt too good to be real. Logan and Finn meant more to him than he could ever admit to anyone. 

Leo just couldn't trust himself to let it out, this mingling of painful truths and fragile dreams that was slowly tearing him apart. What was the point of telling Finn that his new, only temporary teammate was the person who had hurt Leo the most in his life? Who had left scars that he still hadn't managed to heal. He didn't want to confide in Logan and keep Finn in the dark. It didn't feel right. 

But Leo had known this moment would have come since the very beginning: that was the thin ice both he and Jack Archer stood on, a world built on lies, where they used to carefully tiptoe around each other, dreading the day their paths would eventually cross again. 

It had happened so fast, though, so soon that Leo wasn't sure he was ready to face it all again. 

"I'll talk to them," he said, offering his mom a tight smile. "Soon." 

"And he never," Finn’s sudden squeak made them turn around, "let me drive it. Never!" 

Leo caught a glimpse of his father's grin and Logan's loud, blown out laugh—the one that made his head tilt back, his eyes close, and wrinkles appear across the bridge of his nose. Finn's ears turned a stark pink around the tips, and Leo simply couldn't resist. 

"What?" He gasped. Logan's eyes immediately fell on him, suspicious. "But, Tremz... You let me drive your Daytona last time I came to visit!" 

"That is not—" Logan tried, but everyone was already laughing. Except for Finn, who shoved Logan away with an outraged scoff. 

"That's it. We're so done, Tremblay." 

If someone had told Leo just three months ago that he would soon be back in his parents' kitchen, baking with Finn O'Hara and Logan Tremblay on a rainy afternoon, he would have had a good laugh. And yet, he had just paused in mid-thought to remind himself that the man standing across the table, poking his tongue out as he meticulously measured a cup of all-purpose flour, was actually a world-famous professional athlete who drove cars at insanely dangerous speeds for a living. 

"Knutty," Logan elbowed him from the stool next to him. "You really shouldn't trust Finn with grown-up toys," he pretended to whisper. 

Leo looked down at him, a little bewildered. "Uh. What?"  

Logan pointed to a bunch of utensils scattered around the table. "He's not to be trusted with knives," he murmured as he began counting on his fingers, "electric whisks, blenders…" 

"You know I can hear you, right?" Finn said, eyes focused on the mixing bowl in which he was now sifting flour. 

"...and ovens. Oh, and rolling pins," he nodded. "I'd say blunt objects in general." 

"Got it," Leo chuckled, moving three eggs out of the carton. "Need some help over there?" 

"I think we're all set," Finn said matter-of-factly.  "This is fun. Can I also crack the eggs?" His warm brown eyes went all soft and wide. "Please?"

"Of course," Leo laughed over Logan's sneering snort. As if he could ever say no to this Bambi-eyed, enthusiastic creature. "We just need to add some corn flour and sugar to the bowl first."

"Ah, ouais," Logan snickered, "why don't you pass Leo le sucre, Fish?"

"You'll never get over it, will you?" Finn blew out a desperate sigh, but Leo saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

"Do I wanna know?"

"Yes, you do," Logan smirked, leaning over the table with his elbows and clapping his hands together. He glanced at Finn, who Leo thought looked a little mortified, and then set his amused green eyes on Leo. "Of all the Harzy-learning-French tales, this one is my absolute favorite."

"In my defense," Finn pointed an accusing finger at Logan, "I was studying French and Italian at the same time."

"So basically this one time," Logan ignored him, "we were in Rimouski—you know, my hometown?"

Leo nodded, mirroring Logan's contagious grin. 

"It was my maman's birthday. We were home alone for the entire afternoon with absolutely nothing to do, and bored enough to think it would be a good idea to bake a birthday cake."

"No," Finn interrupted him as he pointedly set the whisk down. "That was all you. You forgot to buy her a present and decided to improvise as a pastry chef."

"But," Logan waved a hand at him, "we ran out of sugar. So we went to the store and, of course, couldn't find it anywhere. And that's when Harzy," he snorted, "saw a shop assistant walking by and very, very proudly went to ask for le sucer."

"Oh God," Leo groaned and hid his face in his hands. Between his fingers, he saw Finn turning a bright shade of red as he buried his nose inside the neck of his t-shirt.

"Like three times," Logan cackled, and so did Leo after him.

"Oh, Finn."

Finn shook his head and looked back at Leo pleadingly. "I was being brave! And polite! And Logan said I should have practiced!" He whined. "It's not my fault that if you switch two fucking letters in 'sugar' you're suddenly asking for a blowjob!"

"You're a wild one, O'Hara," Leo laughed. "Was the cake any good? Was it worth it?"

At that, Finn cracked up too, and Logan managed a breathless answer between loud giggles.

"We burned it."

Unconsciously, unable to stop laughing, Leo began to shake his head. Not only because he'd just found out that they were both walking hazards—a real threat to his mom's kitchen, really—but also because a sudden surge of curiosity overtook him. How many stories were there? How many failed kitchen experiments, cozy afternoons, lazy mornings and chill nights with friends and family? With lovers. Leo wanted to know more. About them. About Finn and Logan and their lives behind safe walls. About whatever unique, unbreakable string had tied those two together a long, long time ago. 

He looked between the two of them for a long moment and subtly moved closer to Finn. "You can help with the batter," he said with a cocked eyebrow as he handed him an egg. "But no oven for you. And for your friend there as well." 

The smile Finn gave him back was playful and a little teasing, sweet and so beautiful that Leo had to focus really hard not to stare at his pink, shiny lips and instead hold Finn's gaze, which was probably worse. 

"Oui, Chef," Finn grinned and took the egg with a gentle hand. 

Leo observed him quietly for a while, following his clumsy movements a bit too carefully. He gave up when Finn, satisfied with how perfectly the last egg cracked in two, dumped the shells into the bowl with an overzealous whoop. 

"Uh-oh," Finn mumbled as soon as he realized. He looked up sheepishly at Leo, but was quickly distracted by the click of a camera shutter coming from the other end of the table.  

"This is going up on Instagram," Logan was smiling at the screen of his phone.

Finn hummed a low whistle, and Leo nodded along. "Quite the honor, Tremblay."

Logan was rarely active on social media, and mostly when Celeste forced him to, or did it herself. Aside from the usual race weekend carousels and some branded content, he only had a few photos that felt more personal. Granted, 13 million didn't exactly sound like the average amount of people to share even fragments of a private life with. Still, some of those pictures looked like puzzle pieces of a woven story: a young Logan with his dad securing his tiny helmet, a #10 go-kart in the background; the early seat fit in the SR-20, his first championship-winning car; a blurry, rushed selfie with a fan holding a sign that said I traveled 10,000 miles to see LT10 win!!!; Noelle holding the championship trophy while Logan's two other sisters squished him in their arms like the love-spoiled baby brother he was. There were season-breaks photos as well, rigorously including Finn and damp hair from the sea, sunburned and golden skins in sunset tints, and dark ink on full display on Logan's hip. But Leo's favorite—not that he spent much time scrolling through Logan's feed anyway—was probably the most recent video he'd posted after the Australian Grand Prix earlier in the season: a toddler, no more than three years old, had bolted from his parents in the middle of the paddock to run in Logan's direction. He wore a green bucket hat with Logan's logo printed on the front—a small, white fleur-de-lis resting just above his scrawled initials—that was way too big for him. The frame showed Logan scooping him up in his arms and humming a few words in a high, tender voice, until the little boy worked up the courage to ask, very timidly, for a hug. Logan's melting reaction at his tiny arms around his neck—and the sweet high five they exchanged before letting the toddler go—was beautifully framed in Leo's mind. It also served as a helpful reminder in those times, mostly mid-races, when all Leo wanted to do was knock Logan's stubbornness out of his head.

Now Leo's phone buzzed on the table just as Logan locked his own. Leo felt his green eyes on him once again, igniting a sparkle of light shivers all over his body.

"Some moments are too good not to share," Logan said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Even if no one else knows how special they are." 

—

Dinner wasn't a huge affair, but Eloise Knut never failed to dazzle her guests with her extraordinary cuisine. Her spicy shrimp burgers were to die for—if Logan's loud, appreciative moans were anything to go by. They ate at the kitchen table, a cramped but cozy setting, chatting about sweet nothings and plans for the upcoming trips: Mexico, Brazil, Vegas, and Abu Dhabi for the season finale. 

There was something precious about the way Finn's eyes widened at the first bite of Eloise's salted caramel beignet, dreamy and sugar-drunk.  

Leo was already planning to come back to New Orleans for Christmas and maybe spend a good part of the off-season there. Though he had a vague idea that this year's winter break wouldn't be as special—not without the prospect of a sleepy Logan playing video games next to him in bed, while a curious Finn nosed around his bookshelves.

"Would you stop tossing those stupid banana peels everywhere?" Leo complained.

"Non," Logan bit out, "I'm not going to let you win this one, too."

"God forbid someone beat Logan Tremblay at Mario Kart," Finn snorted. Leo couldn't see him—could only hear his teasing, biting voice over a delicate rustle of pages and the low hum of the game's background music. "You should try Toad next time. Seems more... fitting."

"Realistic," Leo added.

"Fuck both of you," Logan said flatly. Leo had to sneak a quick glance to see how seriously he was concentrating, eyes narrowed on the TV screen and lips pressed tightly together.

Logan had stolen one of the sweatshirts Leo had been unpacking when they'd come upstairs. It was one of Leo's favorites, black and gold and lovingly worn-out. The sleeves pooled around his wrists as they nimbly moved with the joystick. Logan looked beautiful in it, and so sweet that everything in Leo ached.

"What—" Logan's cackle shook Leo back to the game, where his own kart had fallen off a rainbow bridge and was now rolling down into the glittering darkness of Space.

"Oh, come on," Leo let himself fall back against the pillows and smacked Logan's arm with his controller. He took the chance to also glance at Finn, who was leaning against the desk, quietly watching them with a tender smile and a slight pink blush on his pale cheeks. "Did you push me out?"

"Non."

"Harz?" Leo fact checked.

"Yep."

The mix of indignation and confusion in Logan's expression was as blatant as it was hilarious.

"It's okay," Finn conceded. He walked over to the bed and flopped down on his stomach at its end to pat Logan's knee. "You won this one, champ."

"’Course I did," Logan laughed grudgingly. He sank down on the mattress with a huff and folded his arms across his chest. "Fair and square."

"Agree to disagree—" Leo's words broke into a laugh as Logan's socked foot found his hip and slowly pushed him toward the edge of the bed. "Whoa," he let go of his joystick and grasped the sheets, "Lo, I'm gonna fall!"

"I'll take your bed as a reward. You can sleep with Finn."

Finn stretched out and caught Leo's hand, tugging him back. Leo held on a second longer as warm, smooth skin grazed the quiet chill of his own, before Finn gave his hand a lingering squeeze and let it slip away.

Logan narrowed his eyes at Finn, playful and taunting, and got a grin in return that could've lit up the night. 

It always stunned Leo, the way they could go from bickering like an old married couple to looking at each other like they held the world in their hands for one another, only to shift once a week into the opposing fronts of a heated, rooted rivalry that no one seemed to understand. Sometimes Leo wondered if he fully understood, or if he was just fooling himself—afraid to look too closely and see more than he could afford to hope for.

"Can I ask something?" Leo blurted out, the earlier spark of curiosity thumping in his chest again.

They let their gazes drift over to him, and Finn tilted his head in interest, "Shoot."

"I know you've probably been asked this a billion times, but..." for a brief moment, Leo hesitated in front of that pair of piercing eyes. "Is the story about Montreal true? Or is it just something... like, made up to feed the media?"

"Montreal…" Finn mumbled, seconds before his face bloomed with excitement. "Oh. Oh, that is a really good story. And definitely not made up. Tremblay?"

"Ouais," Logan rolled onto his side to face Leo. "Not the version we've been telling everyone, at least."

"I mean," Finn added thoughtfully, "it was pretty solid ground to speculate about our... fate," he emphasized the word with air quotes, "as opponents, or whatever they say. But that's probably because we've always kept the best part to ourselves."

That made Logan giggle. "You should have seen him, Knutty. All freckles and a missing tooth. I swear I remember it like it was yesterday."

Leo clung to each word as if they were offering him pieces of their beating hearts.

"I was so nervous," Finn was rubbing his jaw, pale fingers scratching the hint of a fresh stubble, completely lost in the memory. "I mean, that's how you feel when you're ten and facing the prodigy son of one of the sport's greatest legends, right?"

"Well," Leo chuckled.

"And yet," Logan lifted himself up and leaned on his elbow, "before the race, he just came up to me holding up a granola bar and went, You don't have a snack!" Logan put on a chirpy voice, “Everyone has a snack. Here, we can share mine if you want. My mom made this back home in New York. You're Logan, right? I'm Finn.” 

"Picture that," Leo laughed softly. He wasn't sure what was making his heart beat faster, but he felt immensely grateful for the warmth of it. "So you've really been friends ever since." It was no question. "And you lived so far apart for years."

Logan nodded sharply. "By the end of that day, I already knew everything about him," he shifted to look at Finn, a small smile stealing softly over his face. "And I mean everything. Even what street his favorite bookshop was."

Of course ten-year-old Finn had a favorite bookshop, Leo thought affectionately.

"After the race," Finn continued, a thin layer of wistfulness reverberating in his voice, "our dads took us out to dinner to celebrate. I remember, like, sitting at this huge table with our trophy between us," he made himself laugh, shaking his head with fondness. "We just talked and talked for hours. And then… well. I guess we just never stopped."

"You certainly didn't," Logan quipped, bringing Finn to slap his thigh gently as he sat up on his knees.

"Now tell me something," Finn's warm, expectant eyes were on Leo, who wasn't sure whether he could trust himself with too many words. "Tell us something we don't know about Leo Knut. Like," he shifted again and sat cross-legged on the covers. "I didn't know you spoke French until a couple of hours ago, and then I had to find out all by myself that you raced?"

Logan let out a loud gasp that made Leo’s face warm.

"I see you've found the medals."

"You never said anything," Logan sat up straighter, intrigued. 

"I wouldn't call it racing," Leo began. "But it was fun for a while. When I was... six or seven, I think, my parents started taking me and a few friends to the kart track in town almost every Sunday. Eventually I ended up competing in their club tournaments, and yeah," he shrugged lightly against the sheets. "I was actually pretty good, if I do say so myself," he boasted with a teasing grin.

"Were you, now?" Finn raised an eyebrow.

"Still not as good as I am at making strategies."

Logan let out a low, challenging hum. "Why did you stop, though?"

"Well," Leo combed the tuft of gray hair curling at his temple between his fingers, an old instinct. "On paper, I had a pretty nasty crash. Hit my head on the steering wheel and... It looked really bad, even with the helmet on..." he let out a heavy breath. "Gave my parents a big scare there."

Finn winced as Logan hissed a faint ouch. 

"But to be fair, I knew that racing wasn't my calling," he said, pride loud in his voice. This was safe. He could tell them anything. "At least not as a driver. Even as a kid I was—I don't know. Fascinated by things that weren't just about... cars going super fast? I mean, don't get me wrong," he smiled at the twin looks of wonder that overtook Finn and Logan's faces. "I just… I always wanted to know why,” he said. “To be able to look and see beyond a good-looking livery or a loud engine—to touch it with my hands and understand, so that I could be the one to make all the magic happen."

For a second, just the blink of an eye, Leo was back to crowded airport lounges, watching his parents waving choked-up goodbyes from beyond the security line; to long nights in a dark, anonymous dorm room, thousands of miles away from everything and everyone he'd ever loved. He thought of the tears, soft and heavy like soaked feathers, that he'd allowed himself to shed on the day of his graduation, and the day he'd received that call from Sirius Black—relief and disbelief for everything that he couldn't have known would’ve led to this full-circle moment of his life. To this bizarre, unbelievably perfect night.

"Also... um—", Leo rushed for a joke despite the lump in his throat. "I like math a lot?" 

Finn grimaced and wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Bleah."

Logan reached forward to flick him on the forehead. 

"And LEGO car sets," Leo added with a laugh, quickly scanning the room to find his favorite models, artfully displayed on a few designated shelves. "As you may have noticed."

"Là," Logan grinned. He squished a pillow between his hands and lay back on the sheets, brown curls against cottony light blue. The perfect image of comfort, in Leo's own bed. "The ultimate engineer's starter kit," he yawned.

When Leo lifted his head, Finn's sleepy smile tore at what little air was left in his lungs. "Tell me more."

Finn was certainly a talker—that one person who could ramble on about every half-formed thought that had ever, just barely, crossed his mind. Leo knew that Logan loved to get lost in Finn and Leo's chatter sessions—patient, always caring, never too quiet; sometimes falling into an unbreakable state of awe, piping up now and then to add his two cents to the conversation.

And Finn… well. Finn listened with the same searing intensity. Just like now, he'd smile and nod along with Leo's takes as his restless fingers fiddled with the strings of his hoodie. He'd laugh at his own silly comments and make faces whenever Leo slipped in slightly more jargon-heavy terms to explain the technicalities of his everyday work, and details of his job-landing thesis. Meanwhile, Logan, who had heard it all more than once, slowly fell into a sound sleep, anchored to their voices until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

"And, long story short," Leo carefully switched to low whispers, "I can't really go into more detail because you're still kind of working for the competition," he smiled sympathetically.

"So you're telling me you're the evil mind behind the new suspensions they put on Lo's car?"

"I may have tossed the idea on the table, yeah," Leo laughed.

"Damn it, Knut," Finn sighed exaggeratedly. "I got no chance with you out there."

"Oh, shut up. You—" Leo broke off abruptly, his body tensing as Logan stirred beside him—careful not to wake him. Logan let out a deep breath and shifted onto his side, bending one knee in search of a more comfortable position. When he reached out and draped an arm across Leo's chest, the furrow between his brows softened, and he relaxed back into sleep. 

Thousands of different thoughts flashed through Leo's mind at once, most of them contradictory. He shouldn't even be thinking about it. Logan. Finn. The high of a one-in-a-million chance.

"Le," Finn's voice came quickly, a breathless gasp. For a second, they just stared at each other. "Oh my God, he's so..." A shaky laugh caught Finn's throat. "I'm gonna—wait, let me just..." he stammered, but didn't move, as if paralyzed. A fevered glow colored his cheeks. "He gets a little... clingy when he sleeps, sometimes. I..." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll take him to the guest room, I'm so—"

"Finn," Leo stopped him. "It's... it's okay." 

Finn's Adam's apple bobbed slowly over a hard swallow. When he spoke, his voice sounded earnest. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Leo whispered, flattening a slightly sweaty palm against the empty space at his side in what felt like an act of bravery. "You can both stay, I don't… it's really okay."

There was something in Finn's eyes that Leo couldn't quite read. Darker, pupils blown, just a glimmer of deep brown glowing in the soft light. Piercing. Somewhere between stunned and amazed.

"Besides," Leo managed, drumming his fingers on the mattress that suddenly didn't seem too big to fit, too empty to be warm, "I'm not done bothering you." 

It took him a moment. Finn's eyes dropped to his thumbs, wrestling on his lap, while a small, secret smile slipped across his lips. When rich, honeyed brown filled Leo's vision again, Leo followed that awestruck gaze to where Logan's hand rested on his own racing heart, and up, again and again—a silent battle for something that was slowly turning Finn's conflicted frown into a confident beam; for an answer to a question that wasn't unknown to Leo, maybe just like the one that simmered under every inch of Leo's skin.

Whispers flew around loudly, rumors sometimes too obvious, too stubborn, too plain to believe they were made up. So where , Leo wondered—incredulous and dangerously hopeful. Where did Leo stand in the path of such pure, unconditional love?

"You could never bother me," Finn murmured as he finally, so carefully, curled up next to him. 

Pinned on his back, Leo craned his neck to the side, darting his eyes all over Finn's enraptured face, his freckled nose. "Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about your weekend."

The mere thought that Jack had put Finn in danger and cost him a win had been haunting Leo day and night—even though it was Logan who had claimed the victory in Austin, tying them again in points at the top of the championship standings. A one-on-one fight to the end.

Finn shrugged, but it wasn't lighthearted. "It was fun. I mean... those guys in black and silver can put up a good fight," he smirked at the roll of Leo's eyes. "Please don't tell them."

"Promise," Leo held out his pinky, and Finn caught it around his own. This time, neither of them let go.

"Does it make me a horrible person to be pleased that my teammate didn't get a podium?"

"Eighth place is more than enough," Leo spat, annoyed. "It's not like he honestly earned that third-place start."

"He didn't. But..." Finn looked guilty just for thinking it, and Leo had to look away. He , of all people, should feel bad, but for a different reason. 

"Hey," Finn nudged him gently. His mouth opened and closed a few times, sharp, white teeth chewing on the inside of his lower lip. "I really hope you know you can tell me anything. Us ," his eyes were on Logan's hand again—conflicted. "Really, Le, I know it's been—"

"I know," Leo nodded minutely. "I know, Harz. Right back atcha."

Finn tightened his grip on their intertwined fingers. "I mean it."

"Me too," Leo smiled, but his voice sounded tearful to his own ears. Finn caught him right away.

"How about..." he grinned wickedly. "You tell me where you're hiding them?"

Leo frowned, confused. "Hiding what?"

"Posters. Hats. T-shirts. Bet you have our signed cards—"

"I've got nothing to hide, O'Hara."

"So I won't find anything, let's say..." Finn pointed to a corner of the room. "In that suspiciously overstuffed box over there?"

"Nope," Leo shook his head. "Not even a pin. You can ransack the whole room if you want. But..." he pursed his lips to bite back a telltale smile and nodded in the direction of his dresser. "I'd stay away from that drawer if I were you. You know, for... safety reasons."

"Safety reasons."

"It's broken!" Leo whisper-yelled. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Finn hummed amusedly. "I guess your dad must have mistaken his only son for someone else who lives here and is a total F1 nerd."

Leo feigned a silent gasp. "Traitor."

Outside, the rain had picked up again. Its rhythm, unceasing against the window of Leo's bedroom, was a sweet complement to Finn's quiet voice.

Somewhere, deep inside, a part of Leo wanted to worry. There were too many reasons for him to believe that whatever this dreamlike moment was, it was, first and foremost, risky. Leo had learned the drill the hard way. 

But right then, risk tasted like crisp air on the first day of fall, like cold drops of ocean on salty, sun-kissed skin, warm crackles of fire from an ornate, stone-clad fireplace, and fresh morning dew on a blooming field of daisies. All at once. All in one. All in two—three souls breathing in unison.

Soon, sleep fell over Leo's eyes as Finn's voice faded leisurely, as Logan's arm drew him closer. And Leo allowed himself to settle into it—the bittersweet taste of walking their path hand in hand—if only for the fleeting heartbeat of a night he'd carry forever.  

[clickoly]

Someone brought up wanting to see some team spirit…

Vaincre spoilers below!

[clickoly]

Vaincre

Finals part ii

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 11:00 PM

There was a roar in Logan’s ears. He didn’t know where to turn first, numb and frozen and disbelieving. He didn’t know anything, and he knew it all. He wondered how it had happened, and he’d seen the entire thing. His cheek throbbed and he tried to look around, anywhere, tried to find them, even though he knew they wouldn’t be here. They’d be in the stands. They’d be waiting for him. Logan dropped to a knee and let out his first real breath all game.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 4:30 PM

Logan adjusted the bill of his hat where Luke had knocked it askew down against the back of his neck to try and keep him from seeing the soccer ball they were kicking around in one of the clearer parts of the inner arena.

“D’accord,” Logan said, hand over his head. “That’s cheating.”

“You just tripped me,” Luke countered. “Which, by the way, if Coach saw you do that—”

“So, what did she say?” Logan interrupted. He looked pointedly to Percy as the soccer ball came his way. Luke rolled his eyes.

“What?” Percy asked, but he was grinning.

“Fuck off, you know what,” Luke said.

“When you finally asked Cassie out.”

Percy’s sigh was long and drawn out even as he laughed softly. Logan could see him doing that in OKN’s kitchen, on the road, in the various drab dining rooms of different hotels, and on long midnight bus rides. It was the same sound, the same laugh, the same face. His strawberry-blond hair and its usual tighter curls had been turned fluffy by his post-practice shower.

“Ah…” Percy said slowly. “I haven’t exactly asked her yet.”

“Marsh,” Alex shouted. “Jesus, dude, she likes you.”

“I am just a man,” Percy shouted back, still laughing. “You try looking at someone like her and asking her to spend time with you.” He held up a hand and began ticking off things he said by lowering a finger. “Cassie Baker, Cas-sie Ba-ker is smart, and gorgeous, and accomplished, and funny. And she always has been, since the moment I met her.” He pointed at Logan. “And before you freak out, you emotional French Canadian human, yes, it is fine that you dated her. But back to my original point: I am just a man who is fairly accomplished with sticks and ice cubes.”

“My God,” Alex said. “We should be better friends.”

“Please,” Percy replied. “Sir, come on.”

“Why haven’t you asked her?” Logan said. “She’s so—She’s so…”

He was met with multiple sets of raised eyebrows.

Logan didn’t know if it was really a lack of words, or English, or just that time had gone by that kept him from being able to properly describe Cassie Baker. She had been there, desiring him, through the start of a new part of his life. She’d kept him from feeling like a failure after a bad class, or a bad game—even, without her knowing, after a bad night spent wondering why he kept thinking about the freckles over Finn’s arms, and the moment earlier that day he’d wrapped one of those arms around his waist. She’d loosened his tense, guarded ways. She might, now that Logan was thinking about it, have been the reason he felt like he could kiss Finn in the dark back bedroom, that very first time. Might have been the reason he had been bold enough—when he was bold in nothing else—to guide their hips together and get Finn off.

“Hello?” Percy said. “Why do you have your Finn face on all of a sudden? What were you gonna say?”

“I…” Logan shook his head, dazed. “I mean—she’s fucking kind. She’s the best. Ask her, Perc.”

“He’s scared,” Saint said. He wasn’t kicking the soccer ball around with them. He never did. Wouldn’t touch the thing. He hung out and stretched close by though, usually near Luke’s side of their circle.

Percy scoffed. “Wow. Way to call me out, Saint.”

Saint shrugged, reaching back for an ankle to stretch towards the back of his thigh. “People as loud as you usually are.”

“She’s not scary,” Logan said.

“Girls are definitely scary,” Alex said. “But, like, it a good way.” He gave a mock little shiver and grinned. “In like a, what the hell’s gonna happen next way.”

Percy let out a soft ha. He kept his eyes on the soccer ball, which he balanced on the flat laces of his sneaker. “I—yeah. But. I mean, she could definitely say no. And I would rather be her friend than have her say no.”

“She could also say yes,” Logan pointed out.

“Yeah, well…” Percy gave the ball a little boost with a flick of his toe and kicked it in a gentle arc to Logan, who caught it on his sneaker likewise. “Saint’s right. I’m a chicken, Tremblay.” He adjusted his hat over his curls. “This chicken is now going to run a few laps.”

Logan frowned, watching him go. Percy Marshall was a lot of things. Afraid wasn’t something that would have made Logan’s list.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 11:00 PM

Luke could hardly hear the crowd—or maybe it was all he could hear. Someone put a tight arm around his shoulder, then released him. Sweat dripped off his hair and down his neck. He was soaked through, overheated, wanted water so badly he was sure he could drink the entire tank of Gatorade the staff kept for them. But he wasn’t tired. He was a live wire with dangerous sparks at its end, trying to piece those last moments back together in his mind.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 5:30 PM

Alex leaned his back against the doorframe to the lounge, using its solid edge to dig into a particularly sore spot on his shoulder while he waited for Natalie or Kasey to notice him. For now, he was content watching the way Natalie talked with her hands. He didn’t have all the time in the world, but he wanted to see the families milling around. There were his own parents, along with Finn and Leo, talking to Logan’s. Logan’s mother and Leo had their arms around each other’s waists and were laughing heartily about something with glasses of wine in their hands. Percy’s parents had been caught up by Will’s family it seemed, and they were showing something to each other on their phones and miming their hands in a way that made Alex think they must be talking about food. Maybe where they’d get dinner another day this week.

Alex crossed his arms and looked back to his two. Kasey was already looking at him.

“Kasey Winter,” Alex mouthed, and unwound one of his arms to crook his finger, telling Kasey to come to him.

Kasey bit the inside of his cheek against one of his hidden smiles and excuse himself from the conversation. Alex watched him walk over. He pulled a last sip from the ice of his drink before setting it down.

“Your face gets sexy when you’re chewing ice,” Alex said by way of hello.

“I took too much,” Kasey said around the sound of crunching. “It’s cold.”

“Root Beer?” Alex asked.

“The most underrated drink,” Kasey said. “Saving my more celebratory drinks for later.”

Alex slugged him in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you just fucking said that.”

Kasey just smiled. He leaned forward, hesitated for only a moment to look at Alex’s face, and then ducked slightly to give him a quick kiss. A zing of a kiss. Chilled from the ice. Alex felt ten times more awake.

“Feel ready?” Kasey asked.

Alex raised a brow. “Do you feel ready?”

“No, I feel like I’m already on pins and needles.”

Alex laughed. “Well, I like to keep you on your toes. It’s a goal in life.”

“Don’t we know it.” Natalie slid against his side and put her hand out. “Look.”

Alex gently took her hand in his to better see her red and blue nails. “Very pretty. All for me?”

“I like dressing up for games, what can I say?”

Alex glanced at Kasey as he ducked to press a kiss to Natalie’s temple. Her hair was swept back into a high ponytail and curled. “Just for games?”

“For you, Alexander,” Natalie said, putting a hand behind his neck. “Feel ready?”

Kasey laughed. “I already asked him.”

“Uh-huh, and he probably didn’t answer.”

Kasey made an exaggerated hm noise. “Come to think of it, he didn’t.”

“I’m ready, I’m ready.” Alex pressed a quick kiss to Natalie’s mouth. “And I gotta go, baby.” He leaned forward to to wrap a tight arm around Kasey’s shoulders and turned his mouth close to his ear. “You should watch me now, then watch me and Nat later.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kasey laughed softly. But then he pressed his hand low on Alex’s back.

Alex grinned. He gave Natalie’s blond hair a gentle tug as he passed, and felt alone in the hallway, like he always did when he left them.

He only made it a few steps before he heard footsteps behind him, jogging to catch up. When he turned, expecting Kasey by the lack of heels clicking against the floor, he found his little brother.

“Ah, goldfish cracker,” Alex said. When Finn just looked at him, frown in place, he put a hand on his shoulder. “Hi, you good, or—”

“These games,” Finn said softly. “They get rough. Tonight especially. It’s all on the line, Al.”

“You’re telling me.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Alex.”

“I know,” Alex said. Some days, some mornings, he woke up unable to rest until he knew that Finn was all right. Sometimes he’d had a dream about the concussion. Some days he just needed to know. “I know.”

“Just be careful,” Finn said.

“You gonna celebrate with me tonight? No matter what?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Not gonna let Logan hog you?”

“Well—no promises. He’s very convincing.”

“You mean you wouldn’t be able to resist him if he…” Alex sighed. “I can’t even think of anything he could do.”

“Sounds right,” Finn said. He put both hands on Alex’s shoulders. “Hey. Love you. Kick their ass, all right? For our seven year old selves.”

Alex laughed as he watched Finn back up to return to the lounge. “Sure thing, Fish.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 5:30 PM

Logan was on the stationary bike when his phone lit up. Leo.

Finn is with his parents but I’m just around locker room corner—kiss? xx

Logan nearly tripped getting off the bike. He stumbled on the pedals and hopped on one foot before catching himself on the handlebars of Luke’s.

“What the fuck just happened to you?” Luke asked.

“Be right back,” Logan called, already headed towards the door.

Cooing, he typed back to Leo, then cursed and tried to type correctly as he jogged out of the gym. Coming

Rounding the corner to see Leo leaning against the wall was more than Logan could have hoped for. He wore a blue sweater, one of the soft, thin cashmere ones he’d allowed himself to spend more money on than usual. Look, Lo, he’d said in the store. Feel how soft.

Logan had made him blush when he’d pushed the sleeve up and ran his fingers along Leo’s skin instead.

“Hi,” Leo smiled when he saw him. Logan reached out for him and Leo walked right into his arms, leaning down to press their cheeks together.

“Salut,” Logan said. “Thanks for coming all the way down here. Everyone in the box?”

“Just about.” Leo nosed at his jaw. “Thought maybe I could shut your brain off for a couple minutes.”

“That sounds good,” Logan said.

Leo’s kiss was playful. Logan let himself be pressed back against the wall by Leo’s tall form. The shadow he cast was like shade on a warm day. Logan felt like he never had to move again, especially when Leo ducked down further, deepened the kiss, and brushed his tongue into his mouth. Logan caught his hips, tucking his hands right under that soft sweater just like he had that day in the store.

Leo was true to his word. Logan’s mind hummed into quiet. The only pressure was Leo’s body against his. He wanted him closer. He withdrew his hands to press up on his toes and put his arms around Leo’s neck, carding his fingers through his hair as he sucked gently on Leo’s lower lip before letting Leo kiss him properly again.

“I—“ Logan broke off in a laugh. “I’m, maybe—Mm…” Logan held Leo closer, arching up into another one of his kisses that threatened to fold him right up. “Merde—Le—je t’aime, wait, je t’aime…”

Heat had begun to course through him, and if he didn’t stop Leo now, he never would.

Leo just smiled against his mouth. “They keep showing locker room shots on the broadcast they’re playing in the lounge.” Leo’s voice sounded shaky, like he was just as wound up as Logan. “And I’m standing there trying to talk to all these parents while you’re behind them on TV with your shirt off…” He brought one of Logan’s hands to his mouth and kissed his wrist, then his palm. “Taping a stick with these hands…Fuck, Lo.”

Logan leaned up and kissed him again. He tasted like tequila and lime. He must have had something with it at dinner, or in the lounge.

Leo broke the kiss with a reluctant sound and pressed a softer one to Logan’s overheated cheek.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “Sorry, I’m just suddenly…” He ran a knuckle along the collar of Logan’s t-shirt. “It’s strange, to see you ready to play when we’re not.” His hand traveled down Logan’s chest, over the Rangers logo on his sweatshirt, under the hem, where his thumb tucked just barely below the spandex shorts Logan wore beneath his sweatpants. “Though watching is not without its perks.”

Logan flatted Leo’s warm hand against his stomach and held it there.

“How was dinner?” Logan asked. He didn’t like being left behind from dinner with his and Finn’s families, but he knew he had a game to prepare for. He had received a photograph of Finn and Leo being hugged by all of his sisters. Noelle had sent him another of her and Leo cheering glasses, and another of Finn kissing her cheek. He didn’t know which one to make the lock screen of his phone.

“It was really fun. I love your sisters so much. And your mom.” Leo ran a hand through Logan’s hair. “She kept rubbing my back of brushing Finn’s hair back, or Noelle’s or something. I’m not even sure she knew she was doing it.” He put his hand back where Logan had placed it, running it up to his chest. “No wonder you like being touched so much.”

Logan sank a little more into his side. “I think I like being touched by you a little differently.”

Leo leaned down to rest their foreheads together. “I think so, too.”

They both took a few breaths, hands still clasped, Leo’s thumb ran soothing strokes over Logan’s skin.

“Feeling good?” he asked.

“Mm,” Logan nodded, not enough to part them, and closed his eyes. He did feel good. Endorphins raced through him. Even the nagging burn of Leo’s pleasure wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like a little push.

“Got something for you,” Leo whispered.

Logan opened his eyes, interested. “A present?”

Leo laughed, reaching into his shirt. “It’s not really a present. Though I expect you’ll get a few later tonight.”

He withdrew the fleur-de-lis from around his own neck and slipped it over Logan’s head.

“Meant to give it to you earlier,” Leo said. He kissed the pendant before letting it rest over Logan’s chest. “Good luck, okay? Be safe. You know where we’re sitting?”

“Ouais,” Logan said. When Leo folded him into his arms, Logan inhaled deeply and let every muscle in his body relax. “I’ll find you.”

When he was back in the locker room, he savored the feeling of the pendant dropping against his bare chest as he pulled his sweatshirt and shirt over his head to dress for the game. It was still warm from Leo’s skin. In his stall, his phone lit up again, this time from Finn.

It was a photograph of a television, where he saw his own back.

Hi, Finn wrote. I find you so hot, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Logan looked over his shoulder, found the camera, and grinned.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 6:30 PM

Luke had a bit of a plan. Maybe he wouldn’t exactly call it a plan, but he had something he wanted. He kept an eye on the clock, on Saint getting dressed, buckling his pads. He listened as the rest of the boys got louder, more riled, as their walk down the tunnel to the ice got closer. Logan was laughing hard at something Alex was saying. Luke pushed his helmet down over his head, adjusting the tightness. It didn’t matter how hard his heart was pounding. Saint would lead them out tonight. And there would be no catching him alone after that.

He accidentally caught Logan’s eye as he made his way towards Saint’s stall. There must have been something in his face, because Logan put a hand out for him to clasp.

“Good?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,��� Luke said, bringing their palms together and squeezing briefly. “See you in a bit.”

Saint had his mask perched on his head. He was examining his blocker, streaked with black from the rubber of the puck. He only glanced up when Luke stopped in front of him.

“Tweedle,” Saint said in a soft voice. “We’re all dressed up.”

Luke put a hand on the stall divider and leaned down until Saint looked up at him.

“Come with me,” Luke said.

Saint didn’t look up from his blocker. He only switched to checking the netting of his glove. “All right.”

Saint put his mask over his head and brought his stick, as if Luke was merely going to speak with him for a moment. Well, what Luke had to say would take a moment, but Saint didn’t need his mask for it.

He checked to make sure Saint was behind him. He lumbered a bit in his gear, but kept up.

“Are you okay?” Saint asked through the bars of his cage.

“You didn’t need your mask for this,” Luke said once they were alone.

Saint’s eyes flicked up. “You’re wearing your helmet.”

“Well—” Luke began, then cut off. He cleared his throat, looking between Saint’s brown-gold eyes. “What was all that with Percy earlier?”

“What happened with Percy earlier?”

Luke huffed. He was messing with him.

“‘People as loud as you usually are,’” Luke repeated his words back at him. “Scared.”

Saint tilted his head. “What did I mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I…” Saint opened his mouth, then closed it. “Nothing bad. You think he’s angry with me, I’m guessing.”

“No,” Luke said. “No, I don’t think he was angry, I’m just asking…What about the quiet ones?”

“What about them?”

Luke smiled slightly, giving his head a shake. This was Saint in full force. Driving him insane. He could drive him insane right back.

“I’m not loud.” Luke took his helmet off, letting it drop to the floor. “And I’m scared. Or I was, for a long time. Terrified the first time I saw you. The first time you kissed me.”

Saint’s eyes tracked the motion, resting on the helmet by Luke’s feet. “You’re…a special case.”

“Why?”

“You just are.” Saint looked back at him. “You were scared?”

“I want something.”

Behind his mask, confusion bloomed all over Saint’s face. He glanced in the direction of the locker room. “Tw—Luke…What?”

Luke shook his head once. “I mean, I want to say something.”

“I said what I said to Percy. It’s not a rule, I just…” Saint began, looking almost frustrated. “It was true. It’s hard enough to get what you want in life without people not even trying. It’s hard to…” Saint nearly rolled his eyes. “You are quiet. You’re also very difficult.”

“I know I am. So are you.”

Saint looked at his mouth, and Luke swore he leaned in, just a little.

“The thing about you is…” Luke pressed his lips together in an unsure motion. “I have no idea if you’re quiet, or if you’re loud.”

Saint said nothing.

“You don’t talk that much. And then when you do, you’re kind of brutal about it, but I don’t think that’s because you’re afraid at all, I think it’s because you’re not.” Slowly, Luke put his hands on either side of Saint’s mask. It was a new one, made from the deep blue color of the Rangers, Saint’s name written across the front below the cage. “Quiet, loud, I don’t care. You just have to look at me and it’s the loudest thing in the room. In the world.”

Luke was fairly certain Saint was no longer breathing. His shoulder pads were still.

“Seb…” Luke whispered. He put his thumb over Saint’s name. He began to lift the mask from his face. “I—”

Saint’s hand flew up and stopped Luke’s with a tight grip on his wrist. His eyes were wide. Bright. Something close to tears, but he wasn’t crying. Something close to fear, but not quite.

“You choose right now, when we’re about to go down that tunnel to the most important game of our lives to…”

He trailed off, but his voice wavered at the end.

“Yeah, I do,” Luke said.

Slowly, enjoying the way Saint watched him, Luke leaned forward and kissed the mask. The cage’s bars were cold against his lips. Saint’s tawny eyes had not moved away from his.

“I choose right now,” Luke said softly. “But I’ll chose later, too, if that’s what you want.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 8:30 PM

“What does my Finn face look like?”

There was six minutes left in the second period, and Logan wasn’t sure he was even going to be able to catch a break during a two minute TV break. Both sides were playing like hell, and Madison Square Garden, the New York crowd, was like wildfire.

Percy swished water around in his mouth and spit it back on the ice. “Like someone either just smacked you really hard or gave you a million dollars. Or like someone just smacked you really hard with a million dollars.” Percy considered. “Come to think of it, you actually have been both smacked really hard and probably earned a million dollars in the last few minutes. So I should think of a new metaphor.”

Logan smiled and looked up towards the crowd. A sea of blue. Will slid onto the bench beside them. Logan bumped their shoulders together. Will had a fresh cut over his nose, courtesy of one of Colorado’s defensemen.

“What’s up?” Logan asked.

Will’s mouthguard hung halfway out of his mouth and he chewed on it idly. “I’m thinking that your O’Hara mind-reading applies to extended family. And we should use it.”

They went back out onto the ice with a plan—a plan Logan had used so many times it was practically muscle memory. Luckily, he still only had to glimpse the edges of red hair from his peripheral vision. Logan told Alex what to do, covering his mouth with his glove, and Alex nodded.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

It almost worked. Logan had the puck on his tape, ready to drop it back to Alex when the next thing he knew he was being slammed into the boards.

He felt the cool waft of the ice near his neck as he landed on his back. He groaned and pushed himself up, righting his helmet on his head as he chased after 54, who had done it.

As soon as he touched the puck, Logan threw his shoulder forward, dug his skate into the ice, and sent 54 sprawling.

“Tremz!” Alex shouted, and Logan scooped up the puck and shot it across the ice. Then it went to Percy, then Alex, as they pushed back up the ice. Alex nearly missed Percy’s arrow of a pass, and then a Colorado defensemen only just managed to intercept the puck. He didn’t knock it free of it’s path, though. It ricochetted, and Logan lost sight of its path for only a moment before the red light in Colorado’s goal lit up.

The New York crowd roared, but it was muted just as quickly when the whistle blew. Logan’s smile slowly melted from his face as the referee pointed to the Colorado bench.

“What?” Logan shouted to the referee, skating up beside him. “Fucking what?”

“Language, Tremblay,” the referee said. “Coach’s challenge. And you know what else—that bullet of a hit of yours.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took his mouth guard out. “Oh, come on. He was in my numbers, too, everyone is tonight, I’m allowed.”

But the referee only waved him off, already talking into his headset. Logan scowled after him, but skated back towards his own bench.

“Colorado’s challenging the goal,” Luke said. “Said Marshy kicked it in.”

“Bullshit,” Percy scoffed. “It just hit my foot. It’s not my fault my foot was there.”

“And they’re thinking about giving me two because of my hit,” Logan hissed. “It was clean.”

“It was,” Luke said.

“He started it.”

“Calm down,” Luke laughed.

“What Dev said.” Percy shook his head. “Ya fucking fireball. Gotta douse you with one of those metal hats—those things, you know?”

Luke squirted water into his mouth. “A snuffer.”

Percy shook his head. “That’s what you clean floors with.”

“Swiffer.”

“It was a clean hit,” Logan said again, just as the referee pushed back out to center ice.

“The call on the ice stands,” he boomed over his microphone, and he put his arms out, though the crowd was already roaring. “We have a good goal.”

They left the second period ahead of Colorado, but a two goal lead was the fragilest thing in the world, and Logan didn’t feel anything other than urgency as they left the ice. He’d also left with a fresh, blooming bruise. His cheek throbbed, his knee, but all he saw was those twenty minutes more.

“Logan,” one of the assistant coaches said. “Intermission interview.”

Logan looked down the hallway, breathing hard, to where Cassie was discussing something with her camera crew.

“Take Percy,” he said, taking his helmet off.

Through the tunnel, Logan broke away from the team and the cameras, and was about to take the three steps up towards the PT room, only then someone grabbed his arm. He found his back set gently against the wall, and then he was being kissed. It was a kiss that he knew in his bones.

Finn Finn FinnFinnFinn.

“Nice,” Finn said in a low, happy voice. He glanced sideways towards a passing aid, who was politely keeping her eyes ahead and fighting back a smile. “Being able to do that.”

“Do it again,” Logan said.

Finn laughed. He brushed another kiss over Logan’s mouth. “I love when you follow the ref. Love when you get all like that. Love it…”

“He started it,” Logan mumbled, more interested in the flush on Finn’s cheeks—his ears.

“You okay?” Finn thumbed lightly over the fresh cut over Logan’s cheek. “You look good out there. That was a clean hit, I don’t care what the refs say. It was a solid play, your play, just like always. Can’t stand watching you get hit, makes me want to—”

“It was our play.” Logan turned his chin down into Finn’s palm. “You know?”

Finn gave him a lopsided smile. “Baby…”

“You know it was ours. You saw?”

“I saw.” Finn shook his head, still smiling. He kissed the corner of Logan’s mouth. “Of course I saw.”

Logan was nearly his height with his skates on, but he stepped halfway up the three stairs so he was taller and wrapped Finn up in his arms. He didn’t care if he was sweaty or had snow on him from the ice. He kissed the side of Finn’s temple and felt Finn touch where his necklace had come out of the neck of his jersey.

“Le?” Finn questioned.

“Yeah, Le.”

Finn rested his forehead against Logan’s jaw.

“You got this,” Finn whispered. When Logan looked down, he saw Finn had his eyes closed. Peaceful. “I can see it. All that fire you got in you.”

Logan smiled, letting his eyes slip closed, too. “Perc and Luke say it’s too much.”

Finn’s reply, whispered against the sweat cooling on his neck, drew a pleasant chill over Logan’s skin.

“I like it.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 8:45 PM

“I don’t know about you,” Percy said. “But I think they paired us up again because they want to hear the rest of the story.”

Cassie laughed. She had a small compact mirror out and was carefully adjusting the wing of her eyeliner, but snapped it shut and turned to him. “I guess they’ll have to live in suspense.”

Percy knew he certainly did. Snowy nights and street lamps showing blizzard flakes and wheels spinning on ice.

“Did you see my goal?” he asked instead.

“We’re going to be live in ten seconds.”

“Yeah, but were you watching?”

Cassie had a ready smile in place, eyes towards the camera. “Of course I was, that’s my job.”

“Did you think it was pretty?”

“It went off your foot and they reviewed it for a kicking motion.”

“But I didn’t kick. I would know.”

“No, you didn’t kick.”

“So, say it was pretty cause it was.”

“Thanks, guys,” Cassie said brightly to the voice in her earpiece. “I’m here with Percy Marshall who scored the goal to tie it up at the end of the second. Pretty tense moment, there, Percy, what do you think you guys have to do to keep your lead in the third?”

“I think we have to keep doing what we’re doing. We’re a team with a lot of strengths, very star-studded, with O’Hara, Tremblay, Montague… We have a lot of options, and we’re using every single one of them.”

Cassie directed the microphone back to herself. “I noticed you didn’t include yourself there among the stars.”

The microphone came back to him. Percy swallowed, and let his usual smile pass over his face easily.

“I’m no star. I’m what they call blood and guts.” He let his eyes flick down to her mouth, just for a moment. “At least when it comes to hockey.”

Cassie stared up at him for a moment, smile still in place, but softer. More for him. “I—thank you, Percy.”

Percy flashed the camera a smile. “Uh-huh.”

“And off,” said the woman waiting behind the camera. She flashed Cassie a thumbs up and then shuffled off with the camera man somewhere. It left them alone, if only briefly, and Percy’s heart kicked into drive.

Why, why had he been so much better at this in college?

Cassie was looking at him. He looked back

“It wasn’t a pretty goal,” she said. “But last game. The one you scored in the second…that was pretty.”

“Thanks,” Percy said. Then a question came tumbling out of him. “Is it weird being around us again?”

“Weird?”

“Will, Logan…” Me.

Wouldn’t be the first time I saved you, though, would it?

He’d meant to make her laugh. He hadn’t saved her, and now he felt stupid for saying it, saying it on television. It had been a snow storm, it had been a drive home, it had been—

They both looked away.

“No,” Cassie said. She was scuffing the heel of her boot lightly against the floor. She’d always done that. Percy could suddenly see her in those tight little dresses she used to love, one toe pointed up, heel down, tapping against a beer-sticky floor while she talked to Logan.

“It’s nice,” she continued. “You guys were always so wonderful. And I regretted when Logan and I—you know, when we broke it off. I mean, I get what was going on now, and I don’t—I’m not mad or anything.” She looked up at him. “Did you know? Finn and Logan.”

Percy leaned back against the wall, blowing out a breath. “That’s a very loaded question. Know-know? No. But…I mean, yeah, I knew they…”

He thought of Logan tearing out of the house after Finn left. Finn’s car skidding back into the driveway, his red eyes, tear-streaked cheeks. Nothing. I just thought I forgot something.

“It’s okay,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no,” Percy said. “You were caught up in them just like the rest of us. It’s all right. Happy ending, right?”

Cassie smiled, eyes flitting to his, then away. “Yeah.”

Percy glanced down the hallway where he could see the coaching staff heading into the locker room.

“Well, I gotta…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassie laughed, then cleared her throat. “Okay. Good luck. Do something pretty out there.”

Percy’s laugh came out a little high-pitched, even to himself. “Yeah, I—I’ll try. Thanks.”

He made it half way to the locker room doors before he heard her voice.

“Hey, Marshall.”

Percy looked over his shoulder. Cassie was biting at the inside of her cheek, idly tapping her microphone against her thigh.

“Hey, Baker,” Percy said softly.

Cassie smiled at the old routine. Old jokes and unfinished business, that’s what Percy thought they were.

“I don’t know if I would exactly call it you saving my life,” she said. “But I do remember.”

Percy’s insides were melting. He knew no one else knew what they were talking about, but he’d felt such elation, such guilt that night, that he swore the memories had rolled out in scrolls at his feet.

“Do you?” Cassie shifted back a step, twisting one heel of her boot against the rubber they set down over the floor for their skates. “Remember?”

“Cassie Baker,” Percy sighed, settling his helmet back on his head. “If I ever forget a single thing about you, you can tell the world to go ahead and say I’ve lost my mind.”

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6 : Saturday, 10:45 PM

Logan burned. His lungs. His thighs. His knuckles. It had been a short, swing of a fight with a number 34, and when the guy had tried to put Logan on his back after taking his helmet off with a hard swing, Logan thought of Finn’s head, gorgeous and fragile, and he had seen red. Logan sent 34 to his knees with a rough shove to his shoulder. He’d caught some of his breath back in the two minutes he spent in the box, ice on his wrist, and now he was breathing hard waiting to take the face-off.

He waved off the beckons back to the bench. He breathed deep through his nose. He put his mouth guard back in.

He tried to pretend the only reason he was working this hard was to win a Cup.

He wished his boys were on the ice with him, not in the stands. He wanted Finn, tall and lean in his skates, talking fast in his ear, and Leo at his back in the net.

Home.

He needed this to get him home, and he needed it not to go to overtime. He needed this finished.

5-5 in the third with the clock winding down. Five goals: Alex, Percy, Logan, Logan, Alex.

Three times to show he meant it, that’s what he needed.

He gave his stick a flick of a twirl in his loose gloves and bent for the face-off.

There was nothing faster than play-off hockey. Sometimes, Logan thought he’d been born for it. He flexed his fingers in his gloves and imagined himself on the lake near his parents’ home. It’s where he put the pressure away. He sank into memory. He reached for something to set his blood roaring and found the image of how Jack Archer looked at Leo there waiting. His heart thundered. He dug his skate edges into the ice harder, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

“I know you’re counting the seconds, boys. It’s nothing at all and it’s an eternity,” the referee said as he held out the puck. “But let’s play nice now. If you win it, you want to win it fair.”

Neither player replied. Maybe 45 was fast, but Logan stole the puck right out from the dot when the referee dropped it. He didn’t have to think, not in moments like these. Not when he could feel Will behind him, catching Logan’s win, hear Percy tapping the ice for his pass.

Colorado intercepted. Logan skated hard and drove his shoulder into the pick-pocket’s side right at the blue line. It let Alex get the puck. The crowd shrieked.

Alex hit the post. Logan swore the pinging sound echoed through the entire team. It made him gasp as he skated for the bench. He fell down beside Luke, breathing so hard he had to lean over and cough.

Luke slapped his back. “Atta boy, Tremz.”

The whistle blew as Colorado sent the puck dinging off the glass and into the crowd.

“Fuck me,” Alex shouted as he came to the bench, slamming the door after him hard.

“It was a good shot,” Logan said.

Alex’s laugh was breathless and he stole Logan’s water. “It was an almost shot.”

Five minutes.

It was nothing at all, and an eternity. Logan looked up, looked for red and gold.

It was impossible to see them, but he imagined he could. He found that his pendant had come out of his jersey and, eyes still raised, brought it to his lips and kissed it before tucking it away again.

Home. It was irrational, it wasn’t true, likely, but he still felt that if he did this, if he helped pull the Rangers into victory, he could ask for anything he wanted. He’d served his purpose. Home.

“You have 29,” Logan said to Luke. “I’m going to go around.”

“I know,” Luke said. “I’m with you.”

But the referees were calling nothing at this late stage. At three minutes, Logan found himself going shoulder first into the boards, pain flaring. He ignored it. He got up, there was no time. He made to hit his stick against the ice, calling for the puck again, but found the blade half snapped off. The bench was hollering at him as Logan skated hard towards it. He barely looked as he threw the broken stick towards the equipment manager and snatched the fresh one.

Luke had the puck, his eyes went to Logan. Every part of the stadium seemed to hush, but Logan knew that was only because the place was so loud. Logan could picture Finn with his hands in his hair, Leo gripping his arm. He could imagine his sisters screaming.

A defenseman tried to block Luke’s pass, but Luke lifted the puck just enough so it warbled through the air. Logan was afraid, for a moment, that he wasn’t going to be able to catch it like that. He needed to steady it somehow, he needed to undo its momentum.

Logan dug his skate into the ice, tracking as the puck found his tape, and immediately pulled himself into a fast turn. The puck steadied on his tape and Logan knew he was out of time. He could feel the screams, they rumbled his feet, the ice, but he couldn’t hear them. Only his heart.

Logan steadied his blade on the ice and, half-blind, shot.

Luke was there, ready to pick up a rebound. Alex was there, arms wide against a defenseman. The goaltender reached, glove wide.

But the puck hit home, the net rippling.

Logan shouted, or at least he thought he did. The sound tore out of his throat. He threw his stick, his gloves. It was all he had time for before Luke and Alex were slamming into him. He felt himself stumbling, held up by his teammates, still shouting. He clutched at their jerseys, felt Alex’s visor press against his. The arena shook, and he gasped, straining his head back to see. When the cameras caught this moment, he wanted the world to see who he looked for first.

•

NYR vs. COL Game 6: Saturday, 10:50 PM

Dog pile.

Luke stumbled over thrown equipment, hardly able to move with how tightly his team was pressed together. He clutched Logan’s shoulders. He allowed himself one more second of holding his best friend before he turned, looking wildly, trying to find—

And he was there. Shoving to the core of their huddle, glove, blocker, helmet somewhere left behind, his curls free. Saint reached for Luke. Jostled as they were by the other boys around them, Saint held onto Luke’s jersey, keeping them together.

“Seb,” Luke shouted, laughing. “You were amazing, you—Fuck, you were so—”

“You terrify me,” Saint shouted over the stadium’s roar. He was still breathing hard, sweat dripping in his eyes in a way that probably stung.

Luke thought his heart had already been pounding. He thought there had already been a few tears on his cheeks. But now…

“You do.” Saint cupped a hand around the back of Luke’s neck, the other pressing to his chest. “And I—love you. I love you.”

Luke did cry then. He hadn’t expected it, the first sob hiccuped out of him, then it was a laugh. He leaned down in the only half-hidden, joyful huddle of their team and brought their mouths together. Kissing Saint was hotter than the adrenaline fire in his blood.

Someone, Percy, Luke thought, hit him in the shoulder happily. When the parted, Saint was smiling at him. It was a grin Luke had seen all of once. So thoroughly unguarded. No masks, no performances.

“Well,” Saint said.

“I love you,” Luke could hardly speak. Hardly breathe. “Seb—”

Saint pushed into his arms, and then someone else hugged him, too. When Luke opened his eyes, Logan was there at their sides, grinning at him.

•

Someone had shoved a champion hat in his hands and Logan pushed back his sweaty hair and put it on, backwards.

“Where,” he mumbled to himself. He saw families. Will’s wife, his son, his parents, all embracing. He saw Percy’s parents. Natalie and Kasey. “Where…”

“Lolo,” Logan heard from behind him.

He grinned, barely had time to turn, before Noelle was in his arms. He held her force and clutched back.

“Lo,” Noelle said shakily in his ear. “Logan, you did—you fucking did it again, that was beautiful, Lo, that goal, fucking hat trick, that was so beautiful.”

She broke off, laughing, speechless.

Logan tucked his face into her neck. There were cameras on them, capturing the moment, and mics hanging like fruit above their lenses. Words pushed at him, words he wouldn’t say to Leo or Finn, in case they made him sound too hopeful—or not hopeful enough.

But to Noelle. To Noelle, he could say anything.

“Maybe I can go home now,” Logan said.

“Oh, Bear,” Noelle said softly. Her arms tighten around him. “I know. I know���”

“Where—”

“Right behind me.” Noelle released him, crying, grinning, and turned.

Finally, there they were.

They didn’t have to push their way through. The crowd parted around them. Everyone knew they were his, that they were coming for him.

Alex was closer, and Logan knew Finn wasn’t about to pass by his brother. Two identical grins, running at each other one moment, then hugging tightly the next.

Logan only had eyes for Leo. Logan put a hand on Noelle’s shoulder and squeezed, then skated hard through the crowd. Leo put his hands up as he ran gingerly on the ice, then scooped Logan right off his feet, skates and all, and held him tightly before setting him down again and pressing his smile to his cheek. It probably should have made Logan feel every single one of his injuries, being lifted like that, but he felt unbearably light.

“That goal,” Leo shouted. “Jesus, Lo, oh my God, your hands. The spin, the lift you got, I don’t even know how you did that—”

Logan kissed him, but he might as well have plunged them both underwater. His hearing went muffled. Leo felt so good in his hands, strong and kissing him back. Salt leaked in, Leo’s tears, Leo being kissed on the ice by him.

“I can’t believe…” Leo mumbled, but the words dissolved and he gripped Logan’s jersey, drawing it taught over his shoulder pads.

Logan broke the kiss only so he could see his face. His lips were parted, red, his blue eyes bright. Speechless. His gaze darted behind Logan, around them, and he began to shake his head, began to laugh.

“I can believe it,” Logan said. “‘Cause it’s you.”

Leo brought his fingertips to Logan’s mouth, then the cut on his cheek. Smiling. Pure and bright. He touched his own lips, as if he could feel what had just happened.

“We…”

Logan threw his arms around Leo’s neck. He kissed him again, this one short and easy like they’d kissed on the ice a million times. “So happy you’re here. Merci, soleil. I know this is—after everything—” 

But Leo shook his head, grinning. “Oh, I love you. Of course we’re here, how could I miss that spin, and your face and—Lo, Harz and I just shouted our fucking lungs out. Lo, we just…” Leo leaned down and kissed him again. “God, lots of microphones around, I got a lot to say, but where—” He turned to look over his shoulder, clutching Logan to him as he searched—

And there was Finn, walking towards them, brown eyes already shining.

Leo released him only so Finn could take Logan gently in his arms.

“Look at him,” Leo said. “Look at him, Harz, look how happy.”

“God,” Finn’s voice broke, and he laughed, sniffling. “Are you hurt? Does that hurt?”

“Non,” Logan said, though he probably was, somewhere. “Non, I mean, can’t feel it.” Logan wanted Finn to hold him like this all the time. Hard, grasping, large palm warming the entirety of his flushed left cheek and jaw. And they were surrounded by people, Logan was wearing his uniform, on the ice, about to be handed the Stanley Cup for the second time in just two years, and Finn O’Hara was about to kiss him.

Finn didn’t say anything. He was probably thinking exactly what was going through Logan’s mind. He laughed, though, tears beginning to escape, and looked around, then back to Logan.

“If someone had tried to tell me, at nineteen…” Finn began. At the sound of how thick the tears were in his voice, Logan choked up, too. “My Lo.” He looked at Leo. “Le…I am the luckiest—”

Logan put his hands around Finn’s shoulders, leaned up, and kissed him. Finn’s tears were salty like Leo’s, and Logan was surprised to find that he himself wasn’t crying. He was so happy that he ached.

When he wrapped his arms around both of them, Finn tilted his head back and let out a loud, long whoop.

Leo’s answering smile was radiant and Logan hoped someone was taking photographs, anyone, of this. Of what was finally his.

“Now, I’ve won,” Logan said, clutching to them, and their answering laughs were a silver finer than anything. “We did it.”

Finn gripped Logan’s face, careful of the bruise, and made a low, growling sound that Logan supposed was him not knowing what to do with his happiness, how to contain his smile. He took Logan’s hat off, pushed his hand through his sweat-soaked hair, and settled it back on his head before using the bill to jostle Logan a little.

“God, Tremblay,” he said softly. “Love you forever.”

Leo’s mouth was close to his ear when he whispered, “MVP. At least in my book.”

Logan let himself close his eyes. He needed—and wanted—to see his family, but he just wanted to rest here for a moment. He wanted to feel Finn kiss his temple twice and Leo take his weight without question. Just the few moments had some of his adrenaline draining away, and Logan wanted them to take him somewhere and sleep for a year.

“None of that yet,” Leo said. “You got some heavy lifting to do still.”

~

“Alex,” Cassie Baker said. “How does it feel to be named the most valuable player to your team in this play-off run?”

Alex still felt like he could barely breathe, but he laughed, using the hem of his jersey to wipe champagne off his brow. “Got a shiny trophy and everything, huh?”

Cassie smiled at him. “Two trophies!”

“True, true. No, for real though, it’s—it’s a honor, but I’m nothing without these boys.” He motioned vaguely, but looked for a moment, trying to find familiar faces among the families in the crowded locker room. He could still feel the heft of the Cup as Percy had handed it off to him and he lifted it above his head. He could still see Logan’s grin as Alex had handed it off to him, then Logan to Luke, Luke to Saint. He found Finn, standing with his arms around Noelle and Aubrey, watching Logan being interviewed by another network. The floor was sticky, Alex’s entire face and hair was soaked with sweat and champagne and beer, but he was reluctant to take a shower. Natalie had jumped and locked her legs around his waist. Kasey was wearing his champion hat. Alex wouldn’t soon forget his grin as he took a swig from his own champagne bottle. Should I jump next?

“I can’t say enough about them,” Alex said. “And I won’t say this was an easy season. New faces, old friends, old faces, new friends. This team has become so close, but it was…” Alex laughed a little. “I don’t know, forge with fire, or whatever that saying is. Lots of wins feeling as rough as loses.”

Alex looked up to see that Finn was closer now, standing off camera, but listening. Cassie followed his gaze and smiled, too, but said nothing. Alex felt another hand thump him on the back. He didn’t see who it was, a teammate, a coach, a parent, but it felt good all the same.

“The thing with trades is you come to love people who might be your teammate one day and your opponent the next, and it’s difficult. But it’s lucky. There is so much…I’m just grateful to have everyone in this room in my life. On the ice, it’s a different world, we’re fighting so hard and—and it means everything when you’re on solid ground again to look around and find that there are twenty people waiting to celebrate with you.”

“You bring up trades, which you yourself went through this season, along with your old friend, Logan Tremblay. You both share a very tight connection with Gryffindor, who you knocked out of the playoffs this season. You’re being very modest, but I bet anything he would be able to give me ten reasons why you deserved this tonight. What was it like getting to be line mates with him?”

“Oh, Tremz is my—” Alex laughed as his eyes found Finn’s. Shouts went up and Alex caught a glimpse of the Cup being raised up, foaming beer sloshing out of it. Finn was smiling hard, rubbing at his jaw. “I don’t even know where to begin with that kid, he’s like a brother to me. We’ve shared good times, we’ve shared bad times, we…” Alex shook his head. “He makes my baby brother very happy, and so he makes me happy. And don’t even get me started on his game, he did things tonight I don’t think anyone can repeat, don’t even get me started, we’ll be here all night.”

Cassie laughed. “Final question, Alex, and then I’ll let you get back to celebrating. I just made eye contact with your brother you just mentioned, Finn, who plays for the Lions. There were a lot of Lions in the house today, including your old teammate Kasey Winter who you began your NHL career with here in New York. What did it mean to have him in the crowd?”

“Oh.” Alex heard his own voice break, and he laughed again, but felt it tremble. “You know, it’s…” Kasey was standing with Leo across the room, and both of their hands were out like they were discussing the goaltending of the game. Alex thought of that first locker room. Those brown eyes and big paw of a hand—he hadn’t quite grown into himself yet back then—stretching out to shake Alex’s pale one. That speeding drive, going faster than he’d ever admit, to reach the airport security check in time. Kase. Kase. Fucking, stop, Winter, wait—

“Oh,” Alex said again. “It’s—” He felt a sudden surge of protection over all of those stories, even against Cassie Baker’s kind eyes. “I’ll say this for now. It’s a big thing coming into this league. Bliz helped me settle into this life…” Alex swallowed. “Into myself. He retired this year, you know, that’s a big change for anyone. I just…I’ve never been so excited to be a part of someone’s next chapter, their daily life. I’ve never been someone’s…”

Suddenly Natalie was standing next to Finn. He didn’t know if Finn had waved her over, or how long she’d been standing there. She’d let her hair down, gold flowing over her shoulders. She had her arm looped through Finn’s, but she was only looking at him.

“There are beginnings, middles, and ends of everything,” Alex said, then smiled down at Cassie. “Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get the full ride.”

[clickoly]

Knut in the stands of course, watching Tremblay play along side the coach they share, Finn O’Hara…You rarely see one without the others, isn’t that right? Some whispers going on there.

[clickoly]

He’s working laaaate…

[clickoly]

Babyyyyyy 🥺❤️

Thinking about a 17, 18 year old Lo all unsure but in love while writing today…

[clickoly]

artist: olga__snow

[clickoly]

just say when, i’d play again

pauses, then says,

you’re my best friend

and that was the worst part

you can hear it in the silence

[clickoly]

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

[clickoly]

[podfic] Vaincre, by lumosinlove

The day has finally come!! I've posted chapter 1 of the vaincre podfic!!

all credit to @lumosinlove, who has created a remarkable universe, and making hazel-verse podfics is truly the nicest hobby. I am hoping to release new chapters every Friday, but later chapters are not quite fully finished, so I'm afraid I can't commit fully to a release schedule. Related, there are around 35 voices in this podfic!! If I missed anyone or didn't know someone's tumblr, please let me know!

Cover artist: @marmarifer Alex O'Hara: @bkfstclubmember Celeste Dumais: Ami Cole Reyes: @girlwithcurls96 Dean Thomas: @noblecorgi Evgeni Kuznetsov: @greendrawer Fan at the cup parade: @platonicmoonwater00 Finn O'Hara: @arrowofcarnations Haley O'Hara: @veryspacecowboy Hannah: @emjayeingray Hope Lupin: @givemetherapyimawritingtravesty Jack Archer: to come James Potter: @orionsgirl7lovegoodravenclaw Kasey Winter: @fruitcoops Katie Dumais: @kindofspecificstore Kota Takahashi: @campfire-tales-bound Lars: chickens Layla: @literarion Lee Jordan: @micha-making-podfics Leo Knut: @heyitssmiller Logan Tremblay: @peggyrose19 Luke Deveaux: @noopienoopiernoopiest Marlene McKinnon: @imjusthereforwolfstar Natalie Darcy: @girlwithcurls96 Noelle Tremblay: AHelplessBookworm Olli Halla: @heyitssmiller Percy Marshall: @cr-amber Prim: @imjusthereforwolfstar Regulus: @veryspacecowboy Sebastian Montague: to come Sergei Ivanov: Kealer Thomas Walker: @hihimissamericanbi Will Morgan: flame

THANK YOU to everyone who helped me make this!! I literally couldn't do it without you

[clickoly]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

part i: leo

(tags for cw)

~

One: Leo

A Nightmare, A Dream

Amsterdam

So far, Leo had been able to hide the dreams. They hadn’t happened during the nights he’d shared with Finn, but that was probably because he never slept those nights. Not deeply. He’d been too wired by the idea of Finn beside him, and too worried by how the pained lines of Finn’s face didn’t relax even in his sleep.

The dreams hadn’t happened with James on the train, but he’d figured that was because Logan had been just one wall away. Safe. As safe as he could be. Logan wasn’t dead. Logan wasn’t dead, he hadn’t drowned, you didn’t let him drown, you didn’t lose him, someone cut the tracker out, you didn’t lose him, it wasn’t you.

And yet.

He should have asked Logan more questions. He should have forced him to tell him what was going on—why he wanted a direct line to Finn, why he had such a faraway look on his face, why he took phone calls where he barely said a word. He should have seen something coming. He should have forced Logan to tell him.

And now, he was here in a safe house, sitting up on the couch he’d volunteered to take, and watching snow fall in the streetlights outside. Stalling. Afraid to sleep. Logan was right there. It should be fine. But if it wasn’t…

He looked towards the bed, which he’d given to Finn and Logan. They hadn’t slept beside each other like that yet, he realized. Not since Logan got back. The train had been bunk beds. No wonder Finn had laid down so carefully. No wonder he’d kept glancing at Logan as they’d all sat up for a little while, wary of the strange new place, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off so they could actually fall asleep. Finn had managed it. Leo knew his breathing patterns by now. He’d spent so many nights listening to the hitching after-math of a hard cry fade, exhausted.

Logan was awake. He was on his side, facing Finn and staring. Just staring at him in the darkness. He’d shift every once in a while, and it took Leo a moment to realize that he had his ankles tangled in Finn’s beneath the quilt. Leo knew Finn did that sort of thing in his sleep. It was painfully sweet that Logan didn’t pull away.

“Can I ask you something?” Logan whispered suddenly.

Leo nodded. Ten thousand possible questions went through his mind. Some of them real, some of them a fantasy. Yes, I missed you. Yes, I never stopped looking for you.

Yes, Logan, I’m in love with you. I’m in love with the love of your life, too. I’m sorry.

“Was I a bad person?” Logan finally asked. “Was I bad?” He looked down at Finn’s sleeping form. “To him?”

Leo sat up fast, hands pushing into the overly plush couch cushions. Logan, slowly so as not to disturb Finn, sat up, too. He looked so perfect in this light. He looked warm and alive—and a bit guilty.

“It’s only that,” Logan paused, uncertain. “I’m not with you. I know that, I…there are parts of my wedding that I can see.”

“What can you see?” Because Leo was awful, and Leo wanted to know. He hadn’t been there. He wanted every detail. “I mean…No. We’re not together.”

“But I kissed you.”

“No,” Leo said. Exactly was he was afraid of. “No, I kissed you.”

“I kissed back.”

“No.” Leo almost wanted to get up. He wanted to sit on the edge of Logan’s side of the bed and shake him. “It was a moment. We were scared and exhausted and lonely. And it didn’t mean anything. I don’t even know why that’s—something that would come back, I…”

The words sounded like some part of a torn up script in his mouth, ashy and rehearsed.

“You…” Leo tried to think how to explain this. How did he explain, to Logan, about the way Logan loved Finn. About the notes. About 1017 and about the weight he saw Logan drop like a heavy cloak whenever they touched onto English ground again. When Finn met them somewhere, how did he explain what it was like to watch them take each other in, uncaring of where they were or who was watching. How did he explain to Logan that he was the richest person in the world because he had found everything, everything, from ease to lust to comfort to love, in one person? 

“1017,” Leo said. “You asked me to break basically the most sacred rule we’re given because you refused to let him worry about you if something went wrong. You protected him, Logan, at risk to yourself. You could never…never be bad to him. You love him so much, it hurts to look at.”

A brief silence as Logan took this in. No blood, though, so Leo thought he’d done all right.

“That’s how I found you. 1017.” Logan shifted again, pillows piled behind him. “I saw those numbers for months, I just didn’t…I woke up one day and I knew what to do with them. Just like I woke up one day and I knew French was my first language. Just like I suddenly knew my wedding band had been silver.”

Leo involuntarily looked to the hand it had once rested on. Logan was touching his ring finger. “Do you remember what happened to it?”

Leo felt bad for asking instantly. Logan’s face turned so hopelessly inconsolable, even if just for a second, that he wanted to yank the words back in.

“Non,” Logan said softly. He closed a fist around his hand. “No.”

“You could never be bad to him,” Leo said. “When your memories come back, you’ll understand.”

“If, you mean. If they come back.”

“They’re already coming back, Lo.”

The nickname made Logan look up, but he seemed to settle into it. “Not everything.”

Leo could argue with that. He had no way of helping Logan. None at all.

“You have to be patient with yourself,” he said in the end. Logan just looked back down at Finn’s sleeping face.

They were quiet again after that, but neither of them lay back down. Logan began to card his fingers through Finn’s hair. Leo didn’t know if he knew how natural that gesture was. How often Leo had seen him do it.

“You can sleep,” Logan said. “I’m not tired. I will keep watch.”

Leo began to protest, but Logan shook his head.

“Leo, please. I’ll never sleep. I don’t feel like I can.” He looked down at Finn again, then back to Leo. “I’ve been exhausted these last couple days, but now I’m just…awake. There is so much I can see. It’s just—as though it’s out of the corner of my eye. I need…I need to keep letting it come back. Please, rest.”

Leo wasn’t sure how to refuse. He didn’t want to tell Logan about the dreams, and Logan obviously wouldn’t take Leo wanting to keep him company as an excuse. He was exhausted. More than exhausted—the ear-ringing, thirsty sort of tired.

“If you’re sure,” Leo said.

Logan’s half smile brought him almost no comfort at all as he lay back against the couch.

He would pretend. He would lay here, close his eyes, keep his breathing regular. But he couldn’t fall asleep. Out of Logan’s sight he dug his nails into his palm. He couldn’t fall asleep.

The next thing he knew, he was plunged into something cold and deep and blue. Salt water filled his mouth.

It started like it always did. The weightlessness of the open ocean was pleasant for no more than a few moments—until he realized how deep he was.

Holding his breath, Leo looked up towards the glimmering surface far, far above. In his head it was miles, fathoms above him. Unreachable. The panic they were trained to master began to squirm. He seemed to be sinking, too. The light from the sun dimmed as the ocean took over. There was the shadow of a boat up there. He didn’t know who’s. He looked around, as if there was something he could push off of, give himself some leverage beyond his own desperate strokes and kicks—and he saw him.

Logan, his eyes closed, dark hair a halo around his slack face, was sinking into the dark waters below him. Remus was a few feet away.

Choose, something said. You’ll never reach them both. Choose.

Leo turned ice cold. Remus was drifting down, his limbs loose and weak in the water. Leo would have to go farther to reach him, and he’d never make it back for Logan.

And that was always the point when, suddenly, Remus’ face turned into Finn’s.

Leo let out a silent scream of his name. Because that was wrong. Finn had been no where near them, that was wrong, Finn was safe.

Choose. You’ll never reach them both.

Finn’s thick, red hair brushed across his forehead as a current swayed him just a little towards Leo. He was pale. So, so pale in the ocean’s thin light.

Leo began to swim down. He pushed, harder and harder, but it was like there was a force working against him. He stretched out a hand towards Finn, reaching even as his other hand worked to pull himself towards Logan.

But they were being swallowed by the water. He was shaking. Finn was being pulled farther and farther away. The next time Leo looked, he was just a shadow in the blue. There was no more air. Logan’s face slipped out of view and Leo shouted his name, letting the water in. When a sob forced an inhale, the water went with that, too, and Leo scratched at his own throat. He couldn’t see the water’s surface anymore. He couldn’t see anything. Logan. Logan. Logan. Logan. Leo—

“Leo.”

Leo was forced back into the apartment like a bright light being slammed on. His entire body was slick with sweat. He could feel it sliding down his temples and soaking the neck of his shirt. He sat up, trying to gasp for air, but none came. None came. None ever came. Finn was kneeling beside the couch with his hands on Leo’s shoulders.

“What…” Finn asked, frantically looking around Leo’s for signs of danger, of a wound. “Le, come on, what’s wrong. Hey, what happened, look at me, Leo.”

But Leo couldn’t answer. Air wouldn’t come. He couldn’t explain to Finn that everything was fine, it was okay, you’re okay—

“Leo?”

That soft voice. That gentle accent cupping the two sounds of his name. Lay-oh. Drowning. Pale, ocean skin, never see him again—

Leo’s eyes met Logan’s, who knelt beside Finn and put a hand on his chest. His eyes were nearly the color of summer in the wash of the yellow lamp Finn had turned on. Leo tried to gasp, but all that came was an awful, retched sound. His heart began to pound in his temples, he could feel the heat of his neck and cheeks as he struggled.

The crease between Logan’s brow was full of emotion, of life, of worry. It was nothing like the death Leo had seem on him in the dream. Nothing.

Breathe, Leo willed himself. He’s right there, you idiot, breathe, breathe.

Finally, it came back. The air. Leo gasped, then coughed hard, swinging his legs down from the couch so he could sit up and cough again, draw air again, even as Finn put a hand on his back.

“Fuck. God, can you breathe?” Finn asked hurriedly. “Leo? Leo, can you breathe?”

“I’m sorry,” Leo said hoarsely. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Oh my God,” Finn whispered. His fingers were pushing through the back of Leo’s hair now. “Oh my God, Leo. Leo?”

“I’m okay,” Leo said. His voice sounded awful. His chest ached. Blood rushed through him and brought small sparks to the edges of his vision. “Nothing happened. Nothing’s wrong. That’s all me. I can explain.”

Which of course sounded ridiculous to them. Finn pressed his forehead to Leo’s shoulder and let out a harsh breath.

“Leo,” he panted. “Jesus.”

Leo’s arms were trapped between them, but he patted Finn’s side, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m okay. I promise, I’m sorry, I…” How did he explain? How on earth did he explain? “It’s just a dream I have.”

Finn pulled back and stared at him, still horrified. “That makes you not be able to breathe? That’s not just a dream.”

“It is just a dream,” Leo said. He groaned rubbing at his eyes. “Thank God it’s just a dream…”

He peeked through his fingers at Logan, who was still watching him. He still had his hands on him. For a moment, it was almost as if he knew who Leo was completely.

To have both of them sitting next to each other again, looking at him, was more than Leo could ever have wanted. He never thought he’d see it again.

“I lost you in the ocean,” Leo said to Logan. “I lost you in the ocean, and so I’m…I’m in the ocean and you’re below me and you’re sinking.” He had to draw in a quick, ragged breath. He rubbed at his chest. “You’re sinking, you’re drowning, maybe you’re already dead, and I’m trying to reach you and then Finn is sinking, drowning, and I never reach you. I never do and—and when I wake up, I just…I can’t breathe. Nothing is wrong with me, but I just can’t. For a few seconds, I can’t.”

“Why did you never say anything?” Finn asked. “To me, why did you never—”

“Because…” Leo shook his head. “Why would I tell you something like that? That’s a horrible image, I didn’t want that in your head, Finn.”

“Why would you…” Finn rose up on his knees, closer. “Leo. You watched me fall asleep crying and wake up crying for months. And you think you can’t tell me?”

Leo, very suddenly, felt that he might cry himself. “I…”

Finn saw it immediately and put his hand back on Leo’s chest. “You know how bad it was. You know I would have understood. You heard those messages I left Lo. Those hundreds of messages…”

Leo’s eyes widened, new heat rising to his chest. “I—no. No, I didn’t…”

But Finn tilted his head, brown eyes soft and imploring. “It’s okay. It’s okay if you listened. I know they went through you now. You kept us connected when I thought it was all lost.”

Leo shook his head, a surprised, hitching sob clawing up his throat. He covered his eyes briefly and willed it away. “Only when—only when I couldn’t be there. I only listened when I was called away and I couldn’t come over, only when I needed to know you were at least a little all right—”

“All the while you weren’t all right—Leo.” Finn drew him close, pressing their foreheads together.

Beside them, Logan sat back on his heels in a jerky movement, like someone had tried to knock him over. He put a hand over his mouth. Leo looked in time to see blood coat his fingers, and then Logan let out a sound that was half a cry of pain, half a curse. His knuckles were white on Leo’s knee.

Leo didn’t think. He drew the hem of his t-shirt forward and cupped the back of Logan’s head while he pressed the cloth to his nose.

“Shit,” Leo said. “Logan?”

“Oh, Lo,” Finn whispered.

“I don’t know,” Logan gasped. His voice was thick from a blocked up nose and his eyes squeezing shut before opening wide to the ceiling. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Shh,” Leo hushed. “Lo, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

This was too much. Too soon, too heavy. Leo didn’t know how the memories worked, but he’d learned enough to see that these things had to come slowly. Force only brought Logan pain.

“I feel like it was,” Logan said. “I feel—I feel like I knew. Something. I feel…”

Leo could hardly watch him struggle. Leo tilted Logan’s face up towards him to wipe the blood away as best he could. He didn’t realize he was stroking a thumb over Logan’s temple until Logan closed his eyes and leaned into his hand.

“It’s not your fault,” Leo repeated. He looked at Finn, but Finn didn’t seem to mind, so he kept his hand half buried in Logan’s soft hair. “Logan, you didn’t know this would happen.”

“Leo’s right,” Finn said. “Lo, you didn’t know.”

Logan’s voice sounded small. “How can you be sure of that?”

Finn reached out and wiped the last streak of blood from Logan’s nose, then wiped it on his own shirt.

“Because you would never leave me like that,” Finn said firmly. “You never would.”

Leo left them only to splash cold water over his face. He looked ragged and pale to himself in the bathroom mirror. He watched his own chest rise and fall until his breath came easier and his head stopped throbbing. Then he switched off the light and went back into the main room. Finn and Logan were talking in low voices back in bed and Leo made his way to the couch. Maybe he should shower. he was still soaked in sweat. But exhaustion was taking over again.

“Leo,” Logan’s voice came.

Leo looked over his shoulder as he pulled his blanket back. “Yeah?”

Logan looked at Finn, who nodded, then put a hand flat on the mattress between the two of them. “Sleep. Here.”

“I—what?”

Finn patted the space more firmly. “Come here and sleep in a real bed.”

Leo straightened, the blanket falling from his hands. “You want all three of us to sleep in that bed?”

They just looked at him. Logan, a little frustrated now, hit the space.

“Allez.”

Of all the things Leo had expected to do right then, laughing was not among them. Even Finn smiled.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Nothing.” Finn looked at Leo for help.

“That was just…” Leo stopped at the end of the bed. “Very you.”

Logan brightened a bit at that, pleased.

“Oh,” he said, and lay down, folding his hands across his chest expectantly.

Leo felt a little bashful, crawling across the bed, but it was so warm once Leo was under their covers that he shivered and didn’t care whether they were just being kind. Some deeper sort of thaw began to take place in his chest. Finn curled an arm around Leo’s waist, turning into him. He hadn’t even held Logan like that, yet, and here Leo was, wrapped up between them.

“Okay?” Logan whispered, eyes already closing.

“Mhm,” Leo managed to say. Maybe this would keep the dreams at bay.

Finn knocked his forehead gently against Leo’s temple and Leo turned his head to meet his gaze.

“Thank you,” Leo whispered.

Finn just put a hand on the side of his face and pressed a gentle, soundless kiss to his cheek, just near the corner of Leo’s mouth.

When he pulled back, that familiar worry was there, but muted. At least for now.

“He dreams about you, too,” Finn said, and closed his eyes.

[clickoly]

Found this little lost piece that never made it into Starboys. It was originally meant to be part of Chapter 3, as a brief introduction to Kasey and Alex’s shared history

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

• • •

The call screen was too bright in the dim bedroom.

The two men in the contact picture were smiling wildly, mindlessly. They were laughing at something incredibly stupid one of them had said during the umpteenth attempt at a photo in the bathroom mirror of some random club.

Stubbled cheeks impossibly close to each other. Red hair against dark blond. Two sets of soft brown eyes.

Kasey remembered the moment all too well.

"Are you really posing?"

"I'm not posing, Winter."

"Sure. Natural and spontaneous."

"C'mon. Noelle’s gonna think we passed out."

Now four rings felt like an insurmountable distance, the fifth made him question his decision.

Why was he so desperate to hear his voice?

Kasey moved a slightly trembling finger over the red phone receiver icon. One more ring and he would've hung up.

But just then, the call connected, and his heart skipped a beat. "Hello?"

"Ah," a deep voice echoed across the room. "If it isn't the one and only Blizzard."

Kasey shook his head fondly. "You know, for such a brilliant mind, you should try a little harder with nicknames."

"Isn't that what everyone calls you? The heir to the throne of the legendary Iceman."

"Yes," Kasey bit his lower lip, fighting back a smile that no one could see. "But you're not everyone."

"You’re ridiculous."

"Hey! This one's actually decent."

"Yeah, whatever, Mr. Perfection."

"Actually..."

"O'Hara."

"Are you really that drunk?”

In the deepest silence, a faint, unsteady breath came from the other line.

"Alex?" Kasey tried.

"I'm here, I'm here," he repeated. "Sorry. Is everything okay?"

"All good. I just..." Kasey took a deep breath. "You know, haven't seen you in a while."

Behind a thick thread of voice, Alex managed to joke, "Lucky I get to see your pretty face on TV every now and then, huh?"

"I guess," Kasey laughed, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little. "But I wouldn't mind seeing yours, too."

"Well," Alex's long sigh made a crackling sound over the phone. "I had a very nostalgic chat with Noelle last week. You know, reminiscing about the good ol' days."

Kasey smiled. Those memories were priceless treasures, of times when he had brushed with his fingertips everything he ever wanted and didn't even know. Couldn't keep.

"I suppose I could ask for a few days off soon," Alex offered.

"Singapore is in a week," Kasey pointed out, heart in his throat. "I know you love a good night race."

"I do," Alex said so quietly that Kasey almost didn't catch it. There was a smile behind those two whispered syllables. "I'll see what I can do, though, no promises."

"Whenever it is, I can't wait."

I miss you, Kasey wanted to say. I miss you so much it's driving me insane.

A few awkward moments passed, then Alex spoke again, hesitant.

"So..." he began—a breath that sounded achingly vulnerable. "Am I finally going to meet this girl?"

"I'm not drunk. Why? Are you?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You said ‘natural and spontaneous’."

"So what?"

"I want to kiss you."

"Alex..."

"Finn says she's amazing. And that you seem happy with her."

Kasey felt a deep, familiar ache. This wasn't the way he wanted to handle this conversation.

"She is," he said. "Natalie is... incredible. Fuck, Al, I..." he heard his own voice falter. He loved Natalie. "I wanted to tell you. Because I am happy, but—"

"This is the only thing that matters to me," Alex cut in.

This. This was the reason he couldn't get this man out of his head.

Kasey closed his eyes, hoping his next words wouldn't make things worse. "You're gonna like her. I know it."

He wasn't lying. Alex and Natalie had that same wit, that same wild spark that Kasey... loved.

"Yeah," Alex breathed. "Okay. I—I'd better go now. Dinner's almost ready."

"Okay," Kasey glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It read 11:45pm. "Always forget about time zones."

Those moments, some uncertain, unspoken words, reminded him that the long distance was more than real. In the end, it would always be New York and Monaco, or wherever else in the world they'd have to travel throughout the year.

Those thousands of miles hardly felt only physical.

"Good night, Kase."

And their time together would never be enough.

"See you soon, Al."

The line went dead, and Kasey had to wonder, dreamily and guiltily, if Alex knew.

A picture. Tucked away in an old planner, between flimsy, yellowing pages. Red hair and dark blond, warm hands and soft lips.

One kiss, held on thin, fading paper.

Forever etched in Kasey’s heart.

[clickoly]

These two 🫠

Well saw the reference photo and literally could not resist.

I don’t think you get more finnlo-chaos-pining-obsessed-bestie-bitey-romance than this right here.

Leo comes in strong with a fond shake of his head.

Rouge? Can I—hey—can I borrow your phone charger?

[clickoly]

I’m a mess.

You’re not a mess. You’re crying.

What’s the difference?

The difference is you’re not a mess. And you look fucking gorgeous.