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lumosinlove · 1 month ago

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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.”

#aaand it's wedding time #vaincre lumosinlove #coops #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #Alex o'hara #Kasey winter #hockey au #sports au

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