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tea-moon-ster · 11 months

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O'Knutzy week day 1

character credits to @lumosinlove, prompt credit to @oknutzyweek2023 . Also thanks to the wonderful beta @boredbook .

Prompts: Tomato Soup/Bucket hat/Mail/Gardening/Treat

“See, honey bug? That’s our first strawberries.”

“The ones from the plant?”

“The very ones.”

“How?”

Leo suppressed a laugh. Tristan was in full ‘why, how, who, when, and where’ phase. All the previous shyness that had made them think he was a quiet kid had disappeared but, Leo couldn’t bring himself to mind. He readjusted the bucket hat on the kid’s head, a sky-blue thing and with goldfish and carrots floating around. Just like Finn, one minute too long under the sun would have resulted in cute, but nevertheless tomato red, cheeks. Freckles were already spreading on his nose, and Leo had to restrain himself from scooping the kid in his arms and drown him in kisses. I’m a big boy now, Dada, he’d insisted that morning, as he tried to put on his shoes on his own. On the wrong feet. Leo limited himself to cleaning the little chin from soil -he didn’t know how it had ended there.

“Well, we planted the seeds, gave them some water and sunlight, and they grew into fruit.”

“Sunlight like you?”

It took a few moments for Leo to understand what the toddler said. He let a delighted laugh out. “Oh. Oh, my baby.” Tristan’s lower lip fell into a pout, looking away with blushed cheeks. Leo had to lean and kiss him on the head, right in the middle of the little hat. “Honey, sunshine is a name your Daddy calls me. The plants need the sunlight from the sun to grow.”

“Oh. But how?”

“Because sunlight gives them nutrients.”

“Says who?”

“The circle of life.”

“Like the movie with Simba?”

“Yes.”

“But we don’t have lions, or birds, or zebras, or…”

“I know, but-”

“No, Dada, lemme finish please.”

“Yeah, sorry. Go on.”

“Thank you. Lions, birds, zebras, elephants, antelopes, cheetahs, gnus…” Tristan continued to list all the animals from the movie, counting them on his little fingers in a focused frown. He’d been obsessed with the movie for weeks. Leo let him ramble as he finished covering the freshly transplanted herbs with new soil.

“Did I get them all?”

“I think you did, honey pie. Good job.”

“But how does the circle of life work?”

“Huh, everyone has a role to play and it doesn’t work if you don’t do your part.”

“Oh.” The answer seemed to satisfy Tristan, who nodded seriously, and leaned in to poke one of the small, newborn berries.

Leo thought he looked unbearably cute like that, crouched in front of the plants in his overalls. Leo could scream, cry, and sing of happiness while watching Tristan with his small fingers stroking the leaves with big, curious eyes. That was his kid, their kid, to love and raise and take care of. He wanted a picture of him like that. He’d send it to his mother for her birthday. Where was Finn with his camera?

Leo got back on his knees, cleaning his hands on his gardening jeans, and looked around for him. He’d been right there with them, videotaping everything for the memories, Peanut, just a second ago. Leo squinted his eyes in the sun, scanning their yard, and shook his head affectionately when he found his husband. Finn was leaning on the fence, some envelopes in hand and the old camera in the other. He was chatting with Ryan, the new neighbor- probably about golf again.

Leo nudged Tristan gently. “Are you gonna show our new strawberries to Daddy?”

That seemed to do the trick. The next second, the toddler was scrambling to his feet and sprinting. A series of Daddy, daddy, filled the yard, and Leo got to treasure the moment Finn turned around, already smiling radiantly at the name, and bent for the impact. Tristan jumped at full speed into open arms, which lifted him with a little hop, before he was eased on the redhead’s hip. Finn chuckled, adjusting the bucket hat again. He pointed at Ryan, and the kid politely said hi, before filling Finn in with the gardening news. Leo sat back down into the soft grass, taking a moment to look at them. He watched Finn lean down for Tristan to whisper something in his ear, watched the way he looked down at their son with that heart written all over his face. Leo should have taken the camera, he thought. If only he’d kept his own hands clean. Every interaction his husbands had with Tristan was a wonder. A treasure to behold, protect, and replay forever.

“I hear we have strawberries in our lands.”

Leo looked up at Finn, a shield in between him and the sun. He smiled.

“This way, Daddy!” Tristan took Finn’s finger to make him sit with them –which he did, without worrying about his good pants getting dirty. Finn looked the right amount of amazed and curious as their kid pointed at the little berries and explained to him his very own version of the circle of life. And when he turned to Leo for confirmation, the blond made sure to look serious enough while nodding.

Finn let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s impressive, little man. That was all you and Dada, hmm?”

“And the sunshine and the water and the circle of life,” Tristan clarified. “But not the sunshine like Dada. It’s a different kind of sunshine.”

“Oh, got it. Thanks, bud, I won’t get confused now.”

Finn glanced at Leo as the toddler threw himself into a conversation with the little strawberries. They shared a sun-warmed smile. And, damn, if in his twenties, Leo had thought that Heartthrob O’Hara couldn’t get any more charming, he hadn’t considered Finn as a dad. The light in his eyes every time their kid called for Daddy, and the energy he put to make Tristan feel listened to, loved, and to play with him until they got him a sibling. The more pronounced lines at the corner of his eyes, mixing with his lopsided smile, that Leo knew existed for the sole purpose of making him melt.

Finn nudged at the front door behind him. “Why don’t you go inside for a bit, baby? Drink some water, see what’s for lunch. I’ll stay here with our garden gnome.”

“Am not!” Tristan called out from his spot next to the plants.

“You sure?” Leo whispered. Finn nodded.

“I don’t wanna lose the third explanation of the circle of life. Or the fourth. Oh, here-” he added, leaning to push the envelopes into Leo’s jeans pocket. “Just bills. And the thing for the charity event.”

“Did you call Noelle to ask if they can babysit that night?”

Finn’s smile faltered for a second. “I…said I would.”

“You did.”

“I will.”

“I know. Possibly before the charity night, darling.”

Leo was welcomed by the chill air inside and low music coming from the kitchen. It was some old, French song about love and spring. Leo could relate. He wasn’t surprised to hear Logan singing along as he would’ve been fifteen years ago, but it was always a welcomed melody.

He quietly stepped into the open space that was their kitchen and first dining room and stopped for a moment to take it all in. Logan’s shoulders were still broad and strong, even years after his retirement. His edges were softer, both in his body and his temper. But the fire was always there, warming their home like he always had.

•••

Logan was busy stirring the pot, mumbling the song to himself, when long arms circled his waist and a head rested on his shoulder. He smiled as he added cream to the mix. For the next song, they didn’t move at all. Leo adjusted himself so his back wouldn’t be so crooked, and Logan fetched a spoon to taste the red, boiling soup.

“Ah, ouais,” he nodded, satisfied, lifting the spoon to let Leo take a sip. “You’re in for a treat, mon amour.”

Leo hummed. “Tomato soup, the fanciest lunch of them all.” He received a weak, affectionate slap on the shoulder, accompanied by a chuckling sound that vibrated against his chest.

“It’s made with love. Secret ingredient that makes it fancy. It’s a treat.”

“It’s always a treat if you’re making it.”

Logan had to tilt his head for the next kiss.

•••

Leo changed out of his gardening clothes to help Logan fix lunch. He’d taken a sense of pride, in the last few years, in preparing meals for Leo, Finn and now Tristan. He wouldn’t ask for help, so Leo always made sure to stick around. Just in case. But Logan, with his romantic music and the recipe book neatly displayed next to Leo’s spices, was doing a good job.

Once they were all sat down, Leo watched Logan’s satisfied smile being kissed by Finn, thanking him for lunch. Finn told them about the mail, and about Ryan inviting them to golf next weekend, and all the neighborhood’s gossip he’d heard. Then, Tristan decided it was time to go through the circle of life one more time. Papa still hadn’t heard it, after all. Leo nodded along as he placed peas in Tristan’s plate, which immediately summoned a pout capable of melting Logan. He intercepted it with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t wanna hear it, young man. We need the peas to grow. Just like plants need sunlight.”

Tristan seemed to consider the idea. “Is sunlight the veggie for plants?”

“Sure is.”

“Then why isn’t it green?”

A few beats of silence followed. Finn, mouth full, lifted his spoon towards the kid, in a mock toast. “Valid point, kiddo.”

•••

“…And when your strawberries will be ready, we can pick them and make something yummy with them,” Leo explained.

Tristan gasped. “For dinner?”

Logan swiped off some tomato soup at the corner of his mouth. “They need to grow, mon ange.”

“Tomorrow’s dinner?”

“Maybe in a few weeks.”

“Aw, man.”

Logan turned fast enough to catch the pride in Finn’s eyes at the exclamation. He saw Leo do the same and smiled even more. It was the most wonderful thing to see little bits of them mixing in their child. Logan wanted more than a lifetime of this.

“But they’ll be so good, mon cœur,” he added. “Then we can use them for baking.”

“Yeah, there’s so much you can do,” Finn backed him up. “Jam, pie, cheesecake…”

“Strawberry shortcakes.”

Leo and Finn looked up at him. Logan smiled, involuntary and sweet. A flash of tangled, young bodies on a boat, and the golden sunset in the bayou surfaced. His smile matched theirs. Sweet and not quite nostalgic. Remembering. No matter how many times Leo had prepared that dessert over the years, they’d always associated it to their first night in New Orleans.

“Yeah,” Finn breathed. “That’s a good one.”

Looking up at the clear night sky, drunk on love and pleasure and adrenaline, the Finn from all those years ago would have never dared to imagine a future like this. Made of strawberries in the garden, a fourth chair at the table and wedding photos in the hallway. He remembered the first kisses, soft and hard, because they’d all needed kindness, but also a tangible proof of being wanted and needed. The utter wonder in seeing his hand tangled with the other two. But he hadn’t pictured this. Not back then.

“And you know what? Whatever you make, it’ll be extra good because it’ll come from you,” Leo added with a wink.

Tristan giggled, and Logan rubbed a hand through his soft curls. Finn was amazed to learn that his hair would turn lighter during summer. And a thousand other things, all about a little human being they were raising together. He watched Leo smile at them as he rested his chin on a fist. He had to blink fast a few times. Take a deep breath. Just to take it all in.

Sometimes he’d still get that lump in his throat from all the love and wonder he felt for his husbands. And the little fireworks in the eyes of his younger self at the word husbands. Oh, if twenty-five-year-old Finn could see how good they had it coming. How a rookie entering his frat house and another one in his big, empty apartment would end in this. Sometimes he wished he could talk to younger Finn. Just to let him know that the silence, the tears and the keeping it all inside would be worth it. As Logan had written in his vows, they’d met so many bumps along the way that could have split them out. Fights, trades, the intricate webs that were their minds. But they’d chosen each other over every single issue. And they’d continue to do so.

Finn leaned back on his chair, watching Tristan use Logan’s fingers to count all the animals again because he’d run out of his own. He felt a gentle thumb on his cheek. Leo’s smile warmed him like the sun in the garden.

“Where did you go just now, cher?”

“You’ll teach him how to make the shortcakes?”

Leo’s eyes softened, and the thumb on his cheek pressed a little harder. “Sure thing, strawberry.”

Finn noticed Logan glancing at them with a dopey smile, and had to nudge his feet under the table. He let Tristan pull his hand closer so he could continue his counting as he leaned to rest his head on Leo’s shoulder and exhaled.

“Cheers, sunshine.”

#o'knutzyweek2023 #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #lou's writing

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under-theweirwood · 11 months

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o'knutzy week day three!

today i offer up: a loose interpretation of the prompt, a return to deep fandom roots in the form of a little sickfic. gratuitously fluffy boyfriends, big strong hockey boys being baby, and a kiss on the nose from me to you. note; non-graphic description of illness

{@oknutzyweek2023 organizing cred & @lumosinlove everything cred}

Finn was sick, and no one in the shared apartment was feeling good.

He’d been fine in practice all day, a little quieter than normal but still fast and strong and light in his skates. He’d been quiet again after practice, and in the car. They’d all laid down for a nap after practice, planning on going out with Noelle and Thomas while she visited, and then.

And then Logan and Leo had woken up to their bed missing someone, to find Finn in the dark bathroom, laying on the cold tiles with his hands over his head. It had freaked Logan out so bad his hands were shaking, and Leo just sank down to sit next to Finn.

“Just hurts,” Finn had whispered, hoarsely.

“Your head?” Logan asked, moving a hand to lay at the base of Finn’s skull.

“Mhm.” Finn swallowed, cracked an eye open and shut it again. “I’m feeling- really nauseous. I just.” He stopped. “Fuck.”

“Oh, baby,” Leo murmured. He and Logan were pressed up against the wall next to Finn. The tiles were glossy blue, pretty enough to look at but nothing to lay on for hours on end. “Let’s get you into bed, baby, even if you’re feeling nauseous I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”

“Nng,” said Finn. He tried again. “I really feel like. I’m gonna. Puke again. Need to stay here.”

Logan’s eyes widened and he looked at Leo helplessly. Leo knew Logan had been through injuries, head injuries, with Finn, knew that he was remembering other times, other bathrooms and other times he’d seen Finn in pain and unable to do anything. Sometimes Leo thought it was like scar tissue, tough layers of protection around the places that Logan and Finn had hurt each other with their big love.

Leo didn’t necessarily have all that scar tissue. If sometimes he wondered what it would have been like to know them in college, more often he thanked his lucky stars that they’d all found each other just at the perfect time. He just had a big bubbling love, overflowing his chest sometimes and overwhelming him when he remembered that this was his life, that he’d found his people and got to keep them so close. When he saw Finn hurting he just wanted to make his baby, who always worked so hard to make them feel good, feel better.

Leo looped an arm under Finn’s back, used his other hand to support his boyfriend’s head and pulled him against his shoulder to sag against each other. “We’re here, baby,” he said softly, carding his fingers through Finn’s thick waves. “Always here, baby.”

On his other side, Logan pressed his hands against Finn’s chest, to where his steady heartbeat echoed between them. Sometimes love was going out dancing and drinking and twirling, and sometimes it was the electric heat that pooled between them, leaving them shaking with pleasure. Sometimes, though, it was this: Three of them on the floor of the bathroom, pressed together on the cold tile floors, tangled like a body with too many limbs.

Finn let out a little sigh, nestling himself between the two of them. “Love you both. Love you so much,” he whispered, and his voice was hoarse but he sounded like himself. “I love you so much.”

“Mon rouge,” Logan whispered back, and it made Leo’s heart swell up with love just knowing how connected they all were. “I wish I could take this pain away, merde, I..” He paused, like he was trying to get himself back under control. “I hate that I can’t do anything.” His voice broke over the last word and he covered his mouth with the hand that wasn’t looped around Finn.

“Lo, baby,” Leo ached for him, for both of his boys. “Lo, don’t. Don’t be sad,” Finn whispered, cracking one eye open. He pressed his lips against Logan’s forehead, and then leaned across to press his lips to Leo. He closed his eye again, sighing out a breath when he’d kissed them both. “I’m so happy I’m with you both right now.”

Logan made a little punched out sound, eyebrows coming together. His eyes were a little teary but he didn’t move an inch.

Finn reached out and held one of Logan’s hands between his, back pressed to Leo’s chest. “At school there were. There were so many times when I just wanted to be close to you. And I wanted it to be okay and I didn’t think- I didn’t think it ever would be.”

His eyes were still closed, Logan’s left hand between his two. Breathing even like he hadn’t just dropped one of his aching confessions on them. Leo always felt a stutter in his chest at how they talked about college. So much love and so much pain all mixed up.

“It was always okay, mon amour” Logan breathed, green eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Even when I was so stupid and I pushed you away it was still okay, and I loved you every second. I was just an idiot.”

“Aww, Lo,” Finn mumbled, cracking an eye open. He swallowed for a second, exhaled through his nose. Leo leaned back, sensing where things might be going.

“Not great timing, huh,” Finn choked out, leaning toward the toilet just in time to throw up.

“Oh, poor thing,” Leo said sympathetically. “I know you really feel sick, huh” He rubbed reassuring circles on Finn’s back, wincing a little at the heat radiating off his boyfriend’s strong shoulders.

“Wow, I tell you how much I love you and then you vomit?” Logan teased, but his eyes were worried. “Let me go get you some water.”

Finn groaned and raised his head. “Lo will puke if he sees someone else. Very unfortunate trait. Learned that after we both drank too much back in our roommate days.” Its a testament to how bad he feels that he doesn’t even really crack a smile, just rests his head on the edge of the toilet bowl.

Leo didn’t say anything, just kept up rubbing Finn’s back, smoothing a hand through his slightly sweaty hair and humming reassurances when Finn leaned down and was sick again.

“Fuck,” Finn sighed. Logan had returned with some water and he took a deep gulp, swirling it around his mouth before spitting it out.

“Can we get into bed now?” Leo asked softly, one hand coming back to cup Finn’s head. “I think you’ll be more comfortable there, baby.”

Finn closed his eyes, thinking about it. “Okay,” He said finally. “I’m exhausted.”

Logan was back, then, pulling Finn to his feet and scooping him up like a cat.

“You can carry me?” Finn asked breathlessly, at the same time as Leo said, “Oh, boy.”

Logan smiled, his secret, soft, private smile that lit up his face. He didn’t say anything, just crossed the short distance from the bathroom into their bedroom and gently deposited Finn on the bed.

“I still feel like crap but man that was so sexy of you Logan remind me to be on my deathbed more often” Finn said, closing his eyes and nestling in as Leo got into bed next to him.

“Only you would be feeling so bad and talking about how sexy Logan is,” Leo laughed feeling the vibrations of his body against Finn’s. Solid and long and back against the pillows, where he belonged. Where he would feel better.

Logan didn’t say anything, but he was blushing hard as he got back into bed as well. “Whatever,” he grumbled, coming up close to kiss Leo on the mouth and then Finn, a little more gently, on the forehead.

Leo felt love all the way down to his toes, filling him up and radiating out. He imagined a blanket of love covering them all, spilling through the apartment, something soft and bright and glowing. He couldn’t take the pain all the way away ever, but he could hold Finn and Logan close and let himself be held and feel so good. And that would always be precious.

#o'knutzy week 2023 #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #liv fic #sickfic #sweater weather lumos in love

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oneluckygoose · 10 days

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FinnLo Math

Hi, welcome to Lucky's hyper fixation at the current moment

For the past two weeks I have binge read Sweater Weather, Vaincre, and Coast to Coast by the lovely @lumosinlove and just want to say, Jesus Christ. I have actually fallen in love with O'Nutzy SO HARD and they are amazing and I'm absolutely a slave to Harvard Era FinLo. To @lumosinlove, this is a masterpiece and now I want to watch hockey, you've infected me.

Anyway, with credits out of the way, I did some math, (get ready for Harvard era FinLo math under cut)

*Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and I did not create this story, so everything I say may be completely incorrect. Any of this may be disproven in Breakaway, which I don't/won't have the ability to read. Most of this is based off cannon times and events within the Sweater Weather universe, but I have made clear where cannon ends and my assumptions begin. Again, these are not my characters and all credit goes to @lumosinlove, This is not making fun of, patronizing, or degrading the all around fantastic story they have created, and is simply pointing out things I have noticed.*

Now in Coast to Coast, I noticed some strange things that Finn says. He tells Logan he's been in love with him for eight years, right? And over the course of the story Logan mentions he's loved Finn for 7 at some point (that may actually be in Vaincre, if it is the math lines up so that's a testy point). And when they kissed in part V of Coast to Coast it said it had been four years since they last kissed. This threw me off, because I knew this was, what, early January of 2020 in universe.

So I did some digging. Finn is a year older than Logan, meaning when Logan came to Harvard in 2014 (codified in Coast to Coast part VII, the very start, includes sexy Batman during Logan's first Halloween party at Harvard), he would have been a Freshman while Finn was a Sophomore.

Now it isn't clear whether their first kiss in 2015 was when at the end of the 2014-2015 school year or the start of the 2015-2016 school year (though Logan doesn't have a car, so that lends a little more credibility to Logan still being a Freshman, but it kinda seems like Logan never has a car in general, even in Sweater Weather and Vaincre). I tend to think it's the start of the 2015-16 school year because that's when Finn met Hanna, and those sorts of things don't really carry over after being apart for the summer. Anyway, this means it would be Finn's Junior year.

Now their last kiss before Finn leaves is supposedly in May of 2016, which was part II in Coast to Coast, but that doesn't make sense because it is stated that they are only one year apart,

[I'm pretty sure at least. Later in Coast to Coast it mentions Finn's rookie year and it's said that it was only one (1) really bad year without Logan (same goes for Logan as a senior) before Logan is drafted to the Lions after he graduates. This means they're only one year apart, so the 2016 thing I believe to be wrong]

and if you do the math with Logan being a Freshman in the 2014-2015 school year, he would be a Junior when Finn is a Senior in the 2016-2017 school year (I have a whole timeline trust me on this, it'll be at the bottom). So theoretically their last kiss would have been in May of 2017.

Now their next kiss in in January of 2020. Based off of the very beginning of Sweater Weather, the time period of the fic is the 2019 NHL season, so starting in September, it would be January of 2020 when Remus and Sirius' photos got leaked, right before All-stars, which Logan was going on. The same day the photos are leaked, Finn and Logan kiss for the first time since May of 2017.

If you tally it up, it would be 2 years and 7 months since they had last kissed: Seven months left in 2017, plus all of 2018 and 2019 {Essentially (7+12+12)/12}. Notably, not four years.

[If we are going on the timeline where the last kiss is in 2016, it would be 3 years and 7 months, which would be much more reasonable to say four years; however, that timeline is a little jacked so.]

The other thing that threw me off is Finn saying he'd been in love with Logan for eight years, which I also believe to be wrong.

Finn says to Logan when they are officially getting together in part V of Coast to Coast that he'd loved Logan for eight years, which doesn't make sense if they only just met in August of 2014.

To put it simply, they wouldn't have known each other for eight years. Again, if you tally it up, that's five months in 2014, five years, and then about half a month in 2020. {Essentially (5 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 1/2) / 12}. Let's just say they've known each other for 5 years and 6 months. Again, not eight years.

There is the concern of not loving each other when they first met, but Finn does say that he had loved Logan since the moment he saw him at the training camps in 2014, which would have been when they first met, so we can disregard any buffer time.

[And I am about 90% sure that August of 2014 was when they first met because during the Halloween party scene in part VII of Coast to Coast Logan talks about how Finn is his "new roommate" and they'd only just met. I could be wrong.]

And about Logan saying he'd loved Finn for seven years, I don't remember if it is in Coast to Coast which ends in 2020 or in Vaincre which goes until summer of 2021. If it is in Vaincre, this is a totally moot point because it's correct for about 7 years, but if it's in Coast to Coast (thinking on it now it may even be in Sweater Weather, either one would be off), then it wouldn't have been 7 years, but anywhere between 5-6 years. I would need to go back and find the part.

Other Interesting Math Things I figured out while Hyper fixating:

Alex O'Hara:

In Vaincre it says that Alex had to come from somewhere other than Harvard to see Finn in the hospital after he had gotten his first concussion, meaning he wasn't attending Harvard at the time. Vaincre also introduces a whole gang of people who were all on the Harvard team at the same time, which included Alex and Logan. So there had to be at least one year where they were on it together, and I assume it's probably Logan's freshman year.

When Finn's concussion happens is never explicitly stated, but I am assuming it's Finn's Junior year based on Finn and Logan's relationship at the time (pinning and extremely reserved while not awaiting Finn leaving (all this is coming from Logan talking about the concussion in Vaincre)).

With all this to say, I can assume Alex was a Senior in the 2014-2015 school year, left to join Florida's team in 2015-2016 and met Kasey down there in their rookie year. (Obviously they proceeded to fall in love as all good O'Hara's do: fall in love with their best friend.)

Leo Knut:

*open's mouth* *closes mouth* *opens mouth again* *looks down at the ground* Leo was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met.

Leo was 18 at the start of Sweater Weather (2019) with a birthday somewhere in Nov-Dec, so theoretically he would have been a Senior in High School the year before. If you just tick back the years, that would put him in 8th grade during the 2014-2015 school year.

Not anything important I just stumbled across it and thought it was worth sharing, may as well make this post longer.

All in All List of Math:

Logan and Finn's last kiss before Finn left for Gryffindor would have been in May of 2017 not 2016

Their next kiss would be 2 years and 7 months later, not 4 years later

Finn and Logan have been in love since they met in August of 2014, meaning they've been in love for 5 years and 6 months, not eight years.

Alex O'Hara shared his Senior year at Harvard with Logan during Logan's Freshman year

Leo Knut was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met

Timeline

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #alexander o’hara #alex o’hara #o’knutzy #finnlo #finlo #sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #breakaway lumosinlove

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ttylfedora · 3 months

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April Fools with the Lions: Best Bits

Omg. Hello? It’s so nice to be back! In honour of April Fools and the discord having a bit of fun with it, I bring you… April Fools with the Lions: Best bits!

All characters belong to @lumosinlove. Happy April Fools!!

Logan rubbed his eyes, waking up fully. Leo curled into his neck at the movement. He looked over to find Finn’s side completely empty. Leo stirred once again and looked up at Logan with a sleepy smile.

Logan squinted at Leo, wondering if he was seeing things.

“Leo, why do you have lion face paint on?” Leo’s face was fully painted, as though he had been to Katie’s birthday party and had been forced to sit down and have his face painted during it.

“Why do you look like a zebra?” Leo asked, just as confused as Logan.

Logan grabbed his phone off of the nightstand and opened up his camera. Sure enough, an intricately painted zebra looked back at him.

He messaged Finn, asking if he woke up the same.

All that was sent back was a smile emoji sent by Siri.

“You’re going to walk into the rink like that?” Nat asked Kasey, who was sporting a dolphin and a rainbow across the side of his face.

“I need to find Finn before Finn finds me.” Kasey called back. “I know Alex didn’t do this on his own. He has about as much artistic talent as I do in my little toe.”

Kasey and Nat never did find Finn before practice. They did, however, find a Lion stood dead centre of the locker room looking at the Goalies TPed stalls.

“If this was you, you need to do better next year.” Kasey laughed, clapping Leo on the shoulder. Leo laughed.

“No no no. This was Cole and Layla. They were round the corner watching me come in here thinking I didn’t see them.

“Time to recruit Nat, I think,” Kasey whispered to Leo and pulled out his phone.

“Layla I have no clue what to do. I can’t go out on the ice like this. I thought I was being nice by just TPing Kasey’s stall!”

Layla only covered her mouth to suppress a chuckle, watching Cole panic over his now upside down name and number on his jersey.

“All is fair in love and war, Rookie!” Kasey howled through the door, Nat howling after him.

Pascal let out a frustrated groan. Some the start of practice, not a single one of his shot found the back of the net. Timmy let out a similar sigh, taking his helmet off and wiping the perspiration off his head.

“It’s playoff season! We can’t be doing this,” he gridded out. He watched Finn line up a perfect shot, only to miss as well. Looking over to Coach Weasley, he wondered why he wasn’t angrier. He looked amused, even.

Pascal looked down at his hockey stick. Something felt… off. He held it out in front of him, Timmy and Kuny doing the same.

“It feels small.” Evgeni stated.

Pascal looked up at the rest of the team to find the Triple Threat of April Fools, Remus, Sirius and James, grinning back at them.

“You know, when I locked Remus and Sirius in my basement, I did not expect to be paid back like this.”

“Luke! Luke!”

Luke ran into the bathroom, only to burst out laughing upon finding Saint with bright red hair.

“Was this you?” Saint’s face like thunder, he pointed to his bright red hair. Luke fought to keep a straight face and shook his head.

“I promise it wasn’t. Now hurry up, I need to shower as well.”

Two hours later, Saint and Luke rocked up to practice, looking like Rangers biggest fans sporting bright red and bright blue hair. Logan was unable to make a shot that practice, for he was laughing so hard at the coloured sweat dripping down both their necks. He snapped a pic for Leo, his only partner in fools it would seem…

Remus and Sirius made a habit of turning up to practice early. Maybe it was the quiet before the storm, maybe it was the control of having the rink to themselves. One thing they did know, however, was that they liked the rink before anyone started playing the practice session joint playlist. ‘Game Day Vibes’ they called it. A playlist comprising of songs from everyone’s repertoire.

Once the rink was full, Coach allowed the playlist to be put on. Except all that rang through the rink was… a nursery rhyme?

Remus looked over at Finn who was in charge of the playlist. He pressed skip. Finn looked up in confusion as a musical rendition of ‘incy wincy spider’ played out.

“Who, in the ever loving fuck put this in the playlist?” Jackson called out, skating round next to Finn as he frantically scrolled through the playlist. “It’s just nursery rhymes…”

James was doubled over in the far corner, something akin to ‘don’t diss my son’s music taste’ coming out in amongst gasps of laughter.

James had his playlist privileges revoked for 6 weeks.

“So we did the ducks last year, what are we doing to Remus and Sirius this year, Dumo?” Julian asked, placing his cereal bowl in the dishwasher.

Pascal thought on it, scratching his head.

Katie bounded in with multiple chain links in Rangers colours.

“Look what I made for Logan, Papa!” She held them up with a big toothy smile. Well, almost toothy. She had a visit from the tooth fairy the previous night.

Jules’ eyes widened and looked over at Pascal, who responded with his own fully toothy grin.

“Go get your brothers and sister, Katie. We have work to do.”

Remus and Sirius returned from practice to find their entire front room decked out in Rangers merch, chain links hanging from each light and across the ceiling.

“I swear as soon as Logan and I meet on the ice again…” Sirius looked over at Remus, “it’s war.”

Remus chuckled and pulled out his phone to find a message from Dumo.

‘Thanks for the key, it’s under the flower pot’

Everyone was gathered in Sid’s for their monthly get together. Some of the Rangers had made the trip down as well. Thomas was sat at the bar, his arm hooked loosely around Noelle’s waist.

“So no one managed to get either of the brothers?” She whispered in his ear.

Thomas smiled back at her, eyes softened as he moved a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Not yet. Did you manage to get the video?”

Noelle pulled her phone out of her bag and showed it to Thomas.

“It’s hilarious, T. Me and Nat were in stitches.” Thomas smiled slyly, placed a kiss on Noelle’s forehead, and walked up the the little make shift entertainment stage.

“Can I please have everyone’s attention!” He called out, arms wide. Mutters of ‘speech!’ were called out across the bar, paired with smattering’s of applause.

“Now with the close of another successful year of April Fools, we have this years standings. At the bottom, with the most unoriginal prank I think any of us have ever seen, we have Cole and Layla, who took it upon themselves to TP Knutty and Blizz’s goals.”

A round of ‘boo’s’ swept across the bar.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Do better next year” Cole and Layla had their heads in their hands looking mortified.

“Before I reveal the winner, I have one last thing I would like to do. Who here has been personally victimised by a certain pair of red-headed brothers this year?” Hands went up, Logan the Zebra’s face like thunder as people turned around to chuckle at him.

“Yes, now. I set Christmas on a task a week ago. Big love, Noelle,” he held a glass up to her and winked. “A little birdy once told us that our very own Alexander and Finnigan have their own pregame ritual they started when they were kids. Their mom and dad were more than happy to share this video with us-“

“No no no- please Walker I’m begging you,” Finn called out, laughter clinging onto his every word. Alex’s jaw was on the floor.

“If you’d please turn your attention to the screen.”

An old video played. A young Alex was instructing their parent to sit on the couch whilst Finn was in the background rewinding the tv to the perfect moment. The pair did an almost perfect rendition of the handshake from the parent trap.

Thomas looked back at Finn and Alex who were doubled over in laughter.

#lumosinlove #leo knut #o’knutzy #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Alex O’Hara #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #pascal dumais #kasey winter #sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove

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lumosinlove · 4 months

Text

Vaincre

June part iii

But if you try sometime you’ll find

You get what you need

Leo turned his face up to the sun. It was quiet, save for the waves lapping at the boat’s edge and the rocks of his cove. And it was his cove. It had always been his cove, ever since he’d been allowed to take the boat out on his own. It was nearing evening but it was still warm and the sun still reached its soft fingers out across the water to touch his face.

All his thoughts were drowned out by the tree frogs, with their monotone song, and the wind in the trees. He looked at the fishing rods over the side. He’d caught nothing, but it was mostly a meditation anyway, or at least a form of one. Setting everything up, and then settling into the idea of a couple hours alone on the water. Cool, sweet iced tea and his Mama’s ham and mustard sandwiches.

He should go. It would be dark soon, and no one wanted to be near the rocks in the dark. He pulled everything inside the boat—rods, anchor. The motor hummed to life with ease, and he took his time, not ready to leave the dimming sun, or the way the wind rippled his t-shirt across his damp back.

When he turned towards the marina, all he could see were the bright crystals of the reflecting water. As he got closer though, squinting, he saw that there was someone standing at the end of their private dock. A silhouette of the sunset. Someone with a tilt to their head, a set to their shoulders, that Leo would know anywhere.

One Week Earlier

Remus went to his knees when Madison Square Garden erupted around him. He went to his knees when Leo fell, glove still outstretched but empty. He went to his knees when Logan’s puck found the back of Leo’s net.

Remus completely missed the Rangers’ celebration, pinning Logan up against the glass. The puck was swooped neatly off the ice, away from Leo, and handed to the Rangers’ equipment manager to be taped, labeled as a game seven game-winner, and readied for Logan to take home as a keepsake. Logan went off the ice. Thank God Logan went off. He had been for over two different shifts and he knew them. He knew them so well. Remus watched him put his head down against the boards when he made it back to the Rangers’ bench. His shoulders were rising and falling harshly. Luke thumped a hand on his back, eyes concerned behind his visor. Remus risked a glance at Leo and wished he hadn’t. His mask was down, his head was down.

This could be their nightmare.

Remus saw Sirius skate to the face-off circle. He registered James, right at Sirius’ side as usual but looking haunted. James looked up at the clock, which made Remus look up at the clock. Nothing but his blood rushed in his ears.

Nineteen seconds.

He tried to will the numbness out of his hands and feet. He drew a breath that felt sharp when the referee dropped the puck.

There was no scramble for it this time. Sirius swept it back to James, and James held it close. Remus felt himself call for it, tapping his blade on the ice. They didn’t have time to hesitate. James didn’t even look at him, drawing the Rangers’ defense away and over into his own lane before sending a clean, arrow-straight pass to Remus.

Remus caught it, and pushed hard. He didn’t think about anything but keeping the puck close and keeping his strides fast. His muscles burned, even inch of him held tight as Saint trained his body onto him, guessing what Remus might do next.

Six hundred options went through Remus’ head as the white ice blurred beneath him, and he went for, not his own favorite, but Sirius’. The shot that he’d adored as a PT. The one that made Sirius look like pure magic.

Remus let the puck drag, let his skate drag, slowing down the play and making Saint crouch. He knocked it to the other side of his blade, and lifted the puck as hard as he could.

Saint didn’t catch it. It rebounded against his blocker and Remus lunged forward—but Sirius was right there. He sent it hard, as hard as he could, right towards the empty sliver of space above Saint’s shoulder.

Remus was close enough to hear Saint’s shout. It sounded like outrage. His glove reached up, windmilling, and snatched the puck out of the air. He slammed it, captive, down on the ice, and the final horn went.

Remus fell to a knee. “No…”

He was close enough to hear Sirius’ shout, too, something past outrage, and watch as he slammed his stick low against the boards behind the Rangers’ net, snapping off the blade.

Game over.

Remus couldn’t hear the stadium for a long, long stretch of eerie quiet. He heard his own breathing. He heard his own, choked, desperate breathing.

Jules, he thought, and then it was all he could think. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Blue, red, and white gear fell around him as the Rangers threw their sticks and gloves in celebration. The roar filtered slowly back into Remus’ register, and then slammed into him like a wall of sound so hard that he had to close his eyes. The pummeling of hands on the glass sounded like thunder.

This was the hard part of perfection. So much of this year had been difficult. So much of it had been adjusting, then readjusting, climbing and struggling to get things right.

He’d started to believe he was owed this win. When had he started thinking like that?

Something tapped against his side and he looked up to find Pascal there. His face was stone, set and somber, and he jerked his chin towards something. Remus looked to see his teammates quickly filing into a line, waiting to shake hands with the still celebrating Rangers. A pile of blue on the ice, glimpses and flashes of laughter and grins and tears. He looked for Logan, but he couldn’t pick him out. Sirius was there, at the line’s front, waiting with his eyes averted from the celebrating New York.

Pascal helped Remus to his feet, said something that Remus couldn’t hear, and they skated towards the line together.

Logan’s hand found Sirius’ and about four different camera flashes went off at once.

“Sirius,” Logan said. “I…”

“I’m happy for you, Tremz,” Sirius said. He squeezed Logan’s hand then put his other one on Logan’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hard, quick hug. “Really.”

“Merci,” Logan said softly. “I’m sorry, you—look, you played so well. That shot—”

Sirius nodded and let go. Logan realized he didn’t want to hear it. “So did you.”

Remus was right behind him, pulling him into a shaky, one-armed hug.

“You deserve this,” Remus said. “Really, Tremz.”

“You’ll get one,” Logan said. And Remus looked away. Logan could hardly stand this. “I know you will.”

Remus smile was sad. “Yeah…Yeah.”

Logan wished he could spend ten minutes on each boy. Olli, Kris…

Kota held out his hand for Logan to shake. “Um. Good game.”

Logan hesitated for only a second before putting his hand into Kota’s. “You too…” He sighed. “Truce for the summer.”

Kota cracked a smile. “Yeah.”

Logan watched Kota pass by to shake Alex’s hand. Replacement. Logan didn’t think he’d ever look at Kota and not think of him that way. Even if they both ended up, somewhere down the line, on completely different teams with no Rangers or Lions even in the picture.

“What, no handshake for me?”

Logan looked back to see Pascal standing there. His helmet was off, brown and grey hair curling over his forehead. His smile was the realest one Logan had seen from the Lions.

“Dumo,” Logan said. It came out a little broken, and he more or less fell into his tight hug.

“I’m happy for you, mon fils. Don’t judge Leo on how he treats you just now,” Pascal said softly in his ear. “And don’t judge yourself.” He pulled back, hands on Logan’s shoulders. “D’accord?”

How? Logan wanted to ask. How how how?

Kuny stopped in front of him, jostling him with a hand on his head and a hard slap to his back. Logan wished he had something better to say. He wished he was better with words.

And there was Leo.

Hair darkened from sweat, cheeks red. He still had his glove tucked under his arm. Logan would relive that moment forever. Watching Leo fall to the ice, glove empty. Feeling himself shout in celebration, maybe out of muscle memory, only for what had just happened to crash into him nearly as hard as his teammates had. He’d been pushed away from Leo, from the blue paint. Like a photograph going out of focus, he had watched the blurred image of Leo pushing himself back up.

Logan came to a complete stop. He put a hand on Leo’s chest because he couldn’t help it. He touched the lion printed there. Even then, Leo didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Le,” Logan whispered. Leo put his hand over Logan’s, but that was about all. Leo’s hand was so slack, so cold, and his blue eyes flit once to meet Logan’s, but hardly for half a second. “Soleil…”

“Proud of you,” Leo said quietly. “I am, I…”

Logan opened his mouth to say something more, unsure what, but then Leo’s hand slipped out of his and he was left blinking hard and face-to-face with Thomas. That had happened too fast. Logan wanted to turn and grab Leo’s hand again, pull him into a hug.

But maybe Leo didn’t want that. Maybe, for the first time since they’d met, Leo didn’t want anything to do with him.

Thomas had seen, and pulled him into a short hug. “You’ll both be okay.” He pulled away and put a hand over Logan’s heart, tapping once. “Love you, man. It was a good series.”

“It was,” Logan said softly. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Thomas tapped his chest again, more firmly, like he was pressing something into Logan. “You’ll be okay.”

Champagne sprayed against his cheeks and got his hair sticky once they entered the locker room. The alcohol was sweet on his tongue, salty from his sweat. He smiled when he saw the cameras, it would look strange if he didn’t. He took a beer when it was offered to him.

It all happened to him, but he felt like he was hovering just outside of the room, looking through glass.

He found his stall and pulled his jersey over his head. He yanked off his pads and unstuck his undershirt, drenched in sweat, from his skin. God. He didn’t want beer or champagne. He wanted to go home. He pulled a sweatshirt over his head to keep his muscles warm.

Someone hugged him from behind. “Hey.”

Luke appeared, grinning. He jostled Logan by his shoulders. Luke’s hair was sticking up in different directions from his helmet and the champagne. His mouth looked, well, thoroughly kissed, and Logan glanced at Saint, who had a smirk on his face as he gave an interview for one TV network or another.

“Game winning goal, Tremz,” Luke said. “Means you get to pick where we celebrate first tonight. We got three days off, we’re going hard.”

Alex put an arm around Logan’s shoulders and Logan looked up at him. He hoped Alex, like Finn, could read his face without him having to say anything. Alex sent him a sympathetic smile and squeezed tighter.

“It is true,” Alex said. “You get to choose. You should choose. I know this is not how you pictured it, but you still deserve this.”

“We didn’t win yet,” Logan said. “You remember that, right?”

Luke sent him an unimpressed look. “When you pull through a seven game series, you get to have a couple drinks with your friends at a nice bar.”

Logan would have usually jumped at that chance to celebrate, at letting loose for a day or two before they were back and battling—well, whoever else was moving on. Everyone would be keeping an eye on the Lightning and Panthers game set for tomorrow. Logan wanted nothing more than to only be thinking about going to a rooftop bar and staying up until the sun rose.

But it wasn’t so simple. In his head, Leo was holding a champagne bottle to his lips and Finn was boxing him in against the rooftop wall with the rising sun against his face.

Home.He wanted to go home. Luke read it on him as easily as Alex had.

“I know,” Luke said then grabbed his shoulders again. “I know, but come on. You have to celebrate with us. I know you didn’t want to be, but you’re part of this team. I’m…” He paused, blinking. He briefly touched the cut and bruise from the high stick under his eye, and then his mouth. He glanced behind him at Saint, then back to Logan. “I’m fucking happy you’re here, Tremz.”

Logan smiled, but there were still Leo’s sad eyes pressing at him. At that moment, Percy jumped on Luke’s back, momentarily pulling him away into a mess of foaming beers and cameras.

Alex leaned in. They were alone, at least for the moment. “If we’re going to be…us. Who we are…” It didn’t take Logan any time at all to decipher who us was, and what they were together. “Then we can’t let it affect our play. And that’s what you showed them out there tonight. That we can love and play. And I’m grateful. Leo will be, too, after a little time.”

“Alex,” Logan began to say, but then Luke’s laugh filtered back in as he pushed Percy away towards where a camera was trying to interview him. He turned back to Logan.

“So?” Luke asked. “Where to?”

Finn and Leo would no doubt tell him he should go, but all he wanted to hold Leo until he could erase the crestfallen look from his face.

“Please,” Luke said more gently. “I know this is…I know you’re probably feeling a lot of different things right now but we’re your friends.” He glanced at Alex, who nodded. “Let us help. Just a little while. I want you there.”

“Me too, Tremble,” Alex said.

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Non. Mais—merde. Just…Okay.” Alex let out a whoop. “Let me find them first, let me just…” He looked towards the locker room door and accidentally made eye-contact with a few reporters who were looking at him hungrily.

Alex released him. “You have ten minutes before I’m pushing you into the shower so we can get this night going.”

“Alex,” Logan said. “The reporters by the door.”

Alex didn’t have to be told twice. He turned his hat backwards, raised his hands up and walked to the center of the room. “I have some super important things to say! Very important. Over here!”

Logan and Luke shared a look, laughing as the reporters were drawn like moths towards light.

“Um,” Alex began once the recorders and iPhones were inches from his mouth. “Okay, wait, let me think what they were…”

Luke gave him a little push. “Go.”

Logan tapped Luke’s cheek. “Looks like you already went.”

Luke’s next push was a shove.

The hallway was empty. Everyone was in the locker room for now, but it wouldn’t stay that way once the celebrations ended and the players had to be left alone to get dressed. Logan glanced behind him one more time as he made his way down the hallway, away from the doors. Maybe Finn would be with Leo—God knew the Lions wouldn’t want him in their locker room right now. But maybe if he waited outside, a little ways away, he’d be able to catch Finn’s mom, or Leo’s, and tell them that he just wanted to say…what did he want to say? Maybe he didn’t have to say anything, not if they didn’t want him to. Maybe they didn’t even want to see him, but he needed to see them. Just a glimpse. He turned the corner—he’d be out of sight of any reporters now. He looked behind him one more time, just in case, and when he looked forward again he stopped hard.

Finn was there, leaning against the wall, alone. He pushed himself upright when he saw Logan.

“Hi,” Finn said in a rush. “Hi. Hi, I—wasn’t sure if you’d be—Or, I also didn’t think any reporters should see me waiting right outside because, I don’t know, we’re rivals right now and all but that’s a stupid reason, so I…But I wanted to see you? I was going to call but maybe you didn’t have your—”

“Harzy,” Logan breathed. He closed the space between them in two strides, so relieved that it knocked the breath out of him, and reached up to hug him hard.

Finn had been expecting it, waiting for it, and clutched him back with one hand. Logan crushed them together, hands locked behind Finn’s neck. He remembered the sling.

“Oh—” But he couldn’t seem to let go. Finn. This was what he’d wanted. This was home.

“You’re not hurting me,” Finn’s voice had turned rough. He squeezed Logan tighter. “You’re not hurting me, it’s okay.”

Logan just shook his head. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay.

Finn pressed his face into Logan’s neck, letting out a slow breath. “Just wanted to see you off the ice. It’s so different out there. You’re still wearing blue, though.”

“You love all those books where the enemies become lovers.” Logan’s voice was muffled by Finn’s shoulder.

Finn laughed softly. “I love that you know that.” He passed a hand through Logan’s damp hair. “You were never my enemy, though.”

“I was tonight.”

“No. You were an opponent tonight. That’s different.”

“Are you okay?” Logan pulled back to see his eyes. “Your head?”

“I feel okay,” Finn said, but he looked tired and strained. Logan put one of his cold hands to Finn’s forehead. It made Finn close his eyes briefly in relief. “Don’t worry about me.”

Logan had plenty to worry about. He saw Leo’s face again, eyes down, shying away from the cameras. “Is he okay?”

Finn just stroked careful fingers over a fresh bruise on Logan’s cheek.

“Does he still want—like, to see me?”

“God, Lo, of course he does. It’s not your fault.”

Yes it is. Yes, it is.

“I’m gonna take him home,” Finn said.

Logan’s heart jolted. “Home?”

“To your place, I mean.”

“Oh.” God, he’d thought Finn meant Gryffindor. He thought he would have to go to sleep alone tonight thinking about Leo. “Oh. Good.”

Finn smiled a little. “Home’s wherever we three are together.”

“I thought you meant you were leaving.”

“Not a chance.”

“You have your key?”

Finn nodded. He looked so tired. It was going to break Logan’s heart. “Yeah, we got it. Go celebrate, okay? Really, I’m not kidding. Have fun. It’s okay. It is. I love you so much, we both do, go celebrate and have fun. I want you to.”

Logan touched his face, the scruff there, the beginning of a try for a long play-off run—one that should have been longer than this. He leaned up and kissed the coarse stubble on his jaw, then then corner of his mouth, and then Finn turned into his kiss with a hand on his lower back.

“I love you,” Logan said.

Finn took his hand and kissed his knuckles, the fresh cuts from fighting Kota. “See you at home. Okay? Doesn’t matter how late it is, wake me up.”

“Tell Leo I love him.” Logan kissed him quick again, then tried to leave but had to kiss him once more before finally turning back the way he’d come.

Remus could tell that his mom had given Julian a bit of a lecture before he entered the locker room. Maybe on not seeming too disappointed when he saw Remus. But Remus, after he’d bent down, could feel it in the tight grip of Julian’s hug.

“Sorry, Jules,” Remus said into his shoulder. He looked down at the 6 on Julian’s jersey. “I…I wish I could have done it for you.”

Julian just held him tighter, and when he didn’t reply Remus realized he was crying.

“Oh,” Remus said, a little surprised. He rubbed Julian’s back gently. “Oh, Jules…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m—didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, this sucks, I know.”

Julian pulled back and Remus was relieved to see that the tears were soft, not truly upset. More overwhelmed. Still, the catches in his voice took Remus right back to Julian crawling into his bed. To a baby Julian. His baby, that’s how he felt sometimes. He reached up to wipe a thumb across Julian’s cheek and laughed when Julian swatted half-heartedly at his hand.

“I just really wanted it for you.” Julian huffed. “Like—I really want everything for you.”

Remus looked away briefly, at his parents, standing just behind them. Hope put her hand against her chest. Julian’s words made them smile at each other, despite it all.

“That means the most,” Remus said around a thick throat. “That means…the means more than anything else, thanks, bud.”

Julian fiddled with one of the straps of Remus’ shoulder pads. “At least we’ll get to hang out more now.”

“I mean, it’s not like you need to help me get married or anything.”

Julian laughed a little. “Oh jeez. I forgot.” He looked over to Sirius. “That was a really good almost goal, Sirius.”

Sirius’ smile didn’t come as easily as Remus’ but it was there. For Julian, it was real. “Thanks, Jules.”

“I wanted this for you, too,” Julian said.

“Ditto.”

They looked up to see Regulus there, in Sirius’ jersey still. His hair was buzzed short—Remus had been surprised when he’d first seen it, but it suited him. It made his jaw sharper, his grey eyes vivid under thick brows.

“Some luck charm you are,” Sirius said half-heartedly, but he rose from his stall.

Remus watched the two of them hug, watched the way Regulus, maybe without completely realizing it, tucked his chin into Sirius’ shoulder in just the same way Julian had.

“Bien?” Regulus asked softly.

“Non,” Remus heard Sirius say. “Mais ouais.”

No but yes. That sounded about right to Remus’ ears.

“Hi,” Remus sighed with a smile, pushing himself up to greet his parents.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Hope pulled him into a tight hug, and Remus felt his dad’s hand on the back of his head. “You were incredible, you know that.”

“Thanks,” Remus said hoarsely. He let himself lean a little harder into his mom’s arms.

It was a blur after that, mostly. Getting dressed. Getting back to their hotel. Saying goodnight and his mom promising to take them out to a late, late breakfast—even though Remus knew both Sirius and himself most likely weren’t going to be able to sleep that much. He was exhausted but adrenaline coursed through his veins, hot and alive.

In the room’s kitchenette, Remus listened to his family’s final footsteps out the door as he flicked the burner on for tea. He turned back to the glossy hotel kitchen island to find both Black brothers sitting there, looking at him.

Regulus cracked a small smile. “Just making sure neither one of you is going to go break into MSG and skate back the game or something crazy like that.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius said in French.

“Hey.” Remus took down two mugs. “Point taken.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows at the mugs. “Two? Is that you telling me to fuck off?”

“Yeah,” Remus said with a smile.

Regulus looked at his brother. “Re said it nicer.”

Sirius, who was slumped with his cheek in his palm, merely shrugged. Regulus’ smile faded as he looked at his brother. Sirius looked tired. Like he had been lifting something heavy and didn’t know how to hold himself without its weight.

Then, to Remus’ slight surprised, Regulus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ shoulders and pressed his forehead against Sirius’ temple.

“D’accord,” Regulus said softly. “Je t’aime.”

And then he was gone, the hotel door closing with Sirius left blinking after him.

Remus watched him go, too, feeling warmer than before.

“Sweet,” Remus said softly, and Sirius just looked down at his hands, rubbing over his dry knuckles.

When the water heated, Remus poured the tea—chamomile—and settled on the stool that Regulus had occupied. Sirius looked down at the mugs, then at Remus.

“I know, I know,” Remus sighed. “I don’t think it will actually make us sleep, but we can pretend.”

Sirius didn’t reply. He pressed his hands around the warm mug, staring down into the steam rising from the cup. Remus let him be quiet. He let them sit. They would talk when they both felt like they could.

“Re,” Sirius said suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Une promenade? Avec moi.” Sirius asked.

“A walk?” Remus asked.

Sirius hummed his affirmative into a kiss to Remus’ temple. Remus closed his eyes when Sirius inhaled, breathing him in.

What else was there for Remus to do but nod?

Leo and Finn moved quietly around Logan’s apartment. Leo sat down on the couch, but didn’t know what to do once he got there. He watched Finn take off his sling—he’d taken to doing that recently. Finn went to the refrigerator and returned with two glasses of water, plus a bottle of gatorade for Leo.

“Comfy?” he asked, which was Finn’s way of asking if he wanted to put sweatpants on. When they had first started living together, it had also been Finn’s way of asking if Leo would rather stay in than go out. Comfy? he’d ask, and they would go and change—sweatshirt and sweatpants—and return to the living room together, smiling and each with their own book in hand.

How did I get so lucky? Leo would think, and then, a second later, How am I supposed to survive loving you?

Now, Leo accepted the gatorade and downed half the bottle in one go.

They walked into Logan’s closet, which had morphed into their shared closet lately. Leo thought of their rooms back in Gryffindor. When was the last time Leo had walked into his own, old, abandoned room? He couldn’t remember. He preferred Finn’s. Finn’s was his.

Leo pulled his suit jacket and pants off, pulled sweatpants on. He was starting on the first button of his shirt when Finn put a hand out.

Leo looked at those soft brown eyes. Finn was his.

“Thanks,” Leo said. His voice sounded odd, like he hadn’t spoken in ages. It wasn’t true. He’d been forced through interviews. God, he never wanted to see those recordings. He never wanted to see what his face had looked like, answering any of those questions. What happened? What’s next? And it was Tremblay who—

“T-shirt or?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, and let Finn push his shirt from his shoulders. Finn turned to their suitcases, messy on the floor, and reached for one of his own t-shirts. Harvard Men’s Ice Hockey it said. Soft and worn and faded gray and red. Leo’s favorite. Leo wanted to comment on the way Finn reached up to slip it over his head—it probably hurt his healing shoulder—but Finn didn’t flinch. He just kissed Leo’s cheek, let his mouth linger there for a moment, and then turned back to the suitcases.

Leo stood there, hands twisted into the t-shirt’s hem. Finn straightened back up, holding a shirt for himself. Some pressure cracked in Leo’s chest. It felt like tears, but they didn’t come.

“I’m gonna go home with my parents,” he said into the small space.

Finn froze. The muscles in his bare back tensed, the t-shirt he was holding bunching in his grip.

“For—” Leo’s voice broke. “For a little bit.”

Slowly, Finn turned around and Leo had to look away. He reached for socks, head down.

“It’s just been—like, a lot of things have been happening. I’m just—I’m gonna go home for a bit.”

“Le,” Finn breathed.

Leo closed his eyes and flipped the top of his suitcase closed. “I’m—I’m sorry? I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know what he was doing when he turned out of the closet, leaving Finn there. He hadn’t meant to say it like that. He sat back down on the couch, heart pounding. Finn didn’t follow him out right away. Maybe he was trying to give Leo a second. Maybe he didn’t know what to say. Maybe he was upset. He’d lost too, tonight. Leo almost had to remind himself since Finn hadn’t been on the ice. But all of Finn’s season was just as over as his own.

He wondered where Logan was right now. A cool, summer-night roof top? A sticky-tabled bar? Someone’s apartment? Someone’s house just outside of the city?

He felt the couch dip beside him, caught Finn’s soft red hair out of the corner of his eye.

“Le?” Finn’s voice was so gentle that Leo had to look at him.

He had his glasses on now, but he took them off as he sat down and put them on the coffee table. Leo stared at them. He loved the way they looked, waiting for Finn to pick them back up again.

“Don’t be sorry,” Finn whispered. “That’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Leo kept his eyes on the glasses. “I…Yeah. I know.”

More silence. Finn reached out and rubbed a gentle thumb over Leo’s knee.

“I know that Lo’s sort of spoken for,” Finn began. "For who knows how long, but—would you…would you want me to come—”

Leo shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. Not right now, but I love you.”

Finn sat up more and Leo watched his thumb on his knee. Bitten nails, sweet, brown-sugar freckles on the back of his hand. Leo never thought he was going to get to have him. It still hit him with a wave of happiness, even now.

The thumb paused. “You might find Lo in your suitcase anyway when you unzip it.”

“Play-offs.”

“I know.” Finn leaned forward and kissed his temple softly. Leo closed his eyes and a tear escaped without his permission. “I know, I was just joking.” A beat passed. The thumb, maybe the same one from his knee, passed over his cheek. “You might find me in your suitcase.”

“Finn.”

“Okay.” Finn kissed his temple again. “Okay…”

More silence. Leo didn’t know what to say when Finn was quiet.

“Well…Hey.” Finn paused. “Le, look at me.”

Leo did, and Finn’s eyes were all worried and calculating, trying to work out a way to make it better. Finn liked that, Leo had learned. He liked to snap his fingers and make it okay. It got hard for him when he couldn’t.

“Are you sure you…” Finn gave his head a small shake. “I just mean I’ll miss you. I thought…you know. We’d be cheering Logan on, of course, but even more we’d get to just hang out. We have so much time now.”

“Finn,” Leo said, pleading. “Don’t make me feel bad.”

“Oh, no, baby.” Finn sat forward more, palm warm on Leo’s thigh. “No, no, I just…I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just meant I’ll miss you. I’m not trying to, like, corner you, I…”

Leo put his hand over Finn’s and Finn groaned and dropped his forehead against Leo’s shoulder for a moment before looking at him again. “If I can’t make you feel better, what am I good for?”

Leo shook his head. “This isn’t on you, sweetheart. This is just something I want right now. I need the heat. And the water. And the streets I used to walk. And my mama’s kitchen and boat rides and—”

“But I could be there if you need—”

“I need hockey to not be right in front of me for a second,” Leo said firmly. “And it kills me to say it, but Logan’s in the thick of it and you’ll be in the thick of it with him. And I’m not saying forever, just a week or so, I…” Leo closed his eyes briefly. He took Finn’s hands in his own. “Baby. You’re not listening. I love you, but you’re not listening to me.”

Finn looked like he was going to protest again, but he kept his mouth closed. He closed his eyes and gave a short nod.

Leo hated this. He hated that look on Finn’s face.

“No one knows what I need like you do,” Leo said. “No one knows what I love, no one listens to me like you. No one. But right now, I need something else, we… We lost Logan for a second there.”

Finn’s eyes darted away. He nodded.

“And then the person who hurt me most in this world showed back up in my life,” Leo continued. “Then I had to watch you lay unconscious on the ice because of him, because of me, and I had to sit there not knowing what to do while Logan seemed to know exactly what to do. I’ve never felt like I had to fight through your guys’ history before. The biggest mentor in my life retired, and the play-offs are finished and it was with me in goal.” Leo cupped Finn’s cheek, smoothing a thumb over his freckles. “And I love you both so much. But I need to be in the home that came before my home with you.”

Finn was nodding, and nodding, like he was trying to convince himself that he understood. That it was okay. He rubbed his palms over his face for a moment, and when he looked up again it had made his cheeks red.

“Just…don’t leave tonight,” Finn said. “Please?”

“Tonight?” Leo shook his head, brushing Finn’s hair back from his face. “Honey, I was never gonna leave tonight.”

“Oh. Oh, good, okay.”

Leo leaned forward and kissed Finn once, then twice. “Can I…” He pushed himself up to put a knee on the couch between Finn’s, and Finn opened his arms. “Your sling?”

“I’m allowed to be without it for a bit,” Finn said, and pulled Leo in. “I’d rather feel you.”

The entire world felt quiet and still like that. Finn’s fingertips running up and down Leo’s spine like soft drips of water. They had been laying there for maybe a half hour when, in the quietest voice, so soft, so god damn soft that Leo almost didn’t hear him, Finn said, “You’ll come back.”

Leo hesitated, trying to figure out if he’d heard right, then looked up at him. “What?”

Finn’s arms tightened around him, but he looked away towards Logan’s dark balcony. “No, nothing.”

Leo wasn’t convinced. Finn hadn’t said it as a question exactly, and most of Leo knew that Finn would never have to ask that, but the fact that it had slipped out…

Finn let out a breath through his nose. “No, I—I know you will. I just…I didn’t expect…I’m not making you feel bad, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I know this is—”

“Finn…” God, Leo thought. Oh, Finn. So much of Logan’s old torment was in those words and Leo, in all honestly, was glad they had finally been said. “Yes. Yes.” He turned in his arms to hold him properly, to look at him. He nodded, keeping those brown eyes on him. “Yes, I’m coming back.”

“I’m not telling you to stay,” Finn said quickly. “I just meant that I’ll miss you while you’re away doing what you need to do. And I want you to do what feels right. I just meant—fuck, I mean—I just mean that I want you to…know that I will miss you. It’s not that I don’t understand…Yeah. Yeah.”

“I’m coming back,” Leo repeated. “We’re both always going to come back to you.”

Finn’s slow nod didn’t disturb their quiet or their still. It was like it had molded around them, keeping them safe from that cold crush that had happened on the ice. Leo still felt it. The tingling awareness of a puck hitting the back of his net.

“You too,” Finn whispered. “Lo and I love you a lot, Le. Nothing would be the same without you.”

Leo closed his eyes, letting the warmth of that rush over him. He let it erase everything else, just for now.

Finn pressed a kiss to his forehead, then to his neck.

“Finn,” Leo whispered. “Finn, I want…”

It was a question-not-question of his own, and it was all he needed to say before Finn was nodding again, hand against Leo’s cheek.

“Me too.”

They moved back into the yellow light dim of Logan’s bedroom, unable to part. Leo didn’t have it in him to protest the fact that Finn still wasn’t wearing his sling. He wanted so badly to have nothing but Finn’s skin against his. A weak protest made it out of his mouth in the form of Finn’s name, but it had sounded like nothing but a wish for him to come closer. Finn just hushed him, and wrapped him up close, and Leo could have cried. It had been so long since Finn could hold him this tight, and maybe it hurt but Leo made sure to find his good shoulder to let his head rest heavy on as Finn kissed his neck. Finn’s warm hands spanned up and down his back and he pressed a kiss to the dip of his spine.

They moved back into the yellow light of Logan’s bedroom, unable to part. Leo didn’t have it in him to protest the fact that Finn still wasn’t wearing his sling. He wanted so badly to have nothing but Finn’s skin against his. A weak protest made it out of his mouth in the form of Finn’s name, but it sounded like nothing but a wish for him to come closer. Finn just hushed him and wrapped him up close. Leo could have cried. It had been so long since Finn could hold him this tight. Maybe it hurt but Leo made sure to find his good shoulder to let his head rest heavy on as Finn kissed his neck and whispered soft words to him. Finn’s warm hands spanned up and down his back and he pressed a kiss to the dip of his spine.

It was Louisiana heat, Finn’s touch. Leo was burning from the inside out, centering at his hips and radiating outward like sun warming up a room. Leo’s mouth was open and panting, sweat sheening over his chest. Finn’s breath was shaky, and Leo could picture the way he tilted his head back. His hands took Leo’s hips, guiding, and Leo settled back on his knees more, his back snug against Finn’s chest so Finn could wrap his arms tightly around Leo’s waist and tuck his nose against Leo’s neck as they moved together. Leo reached back to fist Finn’s hair and turned his head. Finn didn’t hesitate in kissing him, sound and slow.

Leo let the weight, at least for now, slip away.

#vaincre lumosinlove #wolfstar #coops #hockey au #sweater weather lumosinlove #finnlo #sunfish #lelo #Alex o'hara #sirius black #remus lupin #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #finn o'hara

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oknutzy-week-2024 · 12 days

Text

Hello! It is time for us to start preparing for O’Knutzy Week 2024!

#o’knutzy #leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #O’Knutzy Week 2024

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fruitcoops · 1 year

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just had a tornado blow through...(we're okay, it's kinda normal here). but could we get another blackout/big storm fic? (if you're up for it?)

Glad you're alright! We've got a big storm here tonight as well <3 Have some Lions working through life to distract. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW mild/ medium relationship issues, Sirius' bad habits, and previous people not being very nice to Leo

There was something in the water. Remus was sure of it.

“Put—stop it! Put it down!”

Maybe carbon monoxide was leaking into the rink. Plus all of their houses and apartments.

“I told you, it’s not about the rutabaga.”

Or, fuck it, Mercury was in the microwave again. In the Gatorade? Something like that. He wondered if Marlene would know.

Arthur knocked on the doorframe and the mass of grumbling died down; the air still tasted like sour sweat and irritation and Remus wrinkled his nose at the mats. After a cursory look around the room, Arthur raised a brow and gestured with his clipboard. “Y’know, I’ve got a lot of notes—a lot of notes—but none of you look like you can handle them right now, so we’re doing the short version. Cap, come see me. Lupin, Moody’s waiting for you, don’t give me that face. Olli, figure your shit out. Kuns…Kuns.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Tremzy, stop being mean, and Harz, stop being stupid. Bliz, Layla gets the honor of having you this afternoon. Do your cooldowns without biting each others’ heads off, please, and then go home and sleep this off. Goodnight.”

“Night, Coach,” came the mumbled chorus.

Remus chewed the inside of his lip while he stripped his shin pads off. Sirius was already halfway out the door, still in his under armor—the rush of endorphins that usually accompanied the sight of his gorgeous fiancé was notably absent. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Recenter. It was a rough day, rough week, rough whatever. It would be best to just let it go now.

A hand clapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus!”

“Woah, hey, easy.” Talker held both hands low, palms down between their stalls. “Just saying hi.”

“What—” Breathe. Recenter. Remus blinked a few times to clear his head. “Fuck, no, you’re good. Sorry. Hi. Sorry.”

Talker’s gaze turned dark with worry. “You okay?”

“Just…in my head.” It was a shit answer, but his vague wave seemed to get the point across. Talker nodded slowly. His hands remained on his own side. “You?”

“Been better, been worse.” He tipped his head back and forth, making his small earring swing. A gift from Noelle, if Remus remembered correctly. He watched it catch the fluorescent light for a few seconds before Talker spoke again. “Weird energy in here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Remus turned back to his pads with a humorless laugh. “No kidding. We should crack a window or something.”

Talker hummed, tucking his hands beneath himself. One knee bounced incessantly and Remus tried not to let it bother him. “Reminds me of the you-know-whats.”

Remus’ hands itched to knock on wood. “Yep.”

“But we’re not there. Yet,” Talker added after a pause.

“Nope.”

“Cap’s being…interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus muttered.

Something like relief rippled over Talker’s expression. “So it’s not us.”

“When is it ever?” Remus offered a wry smile. “He gets like this. You know that. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Talker’s shoulder relaxed against his own, warm and solid. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s really not you, man.”

“I know.”

“T.” Remus waited until he looked over, and ducked his head slightly. “It’s not you.”

The kicked-puppy look in Talker’s eye made his chest hurt. Remus knew he had a tendency to put it all on himself—to think he was solely responsible for maintaining the team’s happiness. They were friends for a reason, after all. A missed pass wasn’t the end of the world, but…god, in the NHL? It sure felt like it.

Leo blew past them, not quite stomping, but certainly not pleased. Remus followed his path and found Logan staring at the floor with the same mournful gaze that plagued half the room. His stomach twisted. For a group of guys with everything in the world, they were a bunch of fucking messes, sometimes.

He patted Talker once on the shoulder before standing; he didn’t bother with shoes. It was a quick enough trip to get by in his socks. Moody’s office door was already open when he arrived, and he had barely raised his hand to knock on the frame when a grunt invited him inside.

The door closed with a faint noise. Silence thickened the air, save for the scribble of Moody’s pen. “Coach said you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted awkwardly. He didn’t like this stiffness. They had never been like that before.

Moody clicked his pen shut and leaned back in his chair with a long sigh, rocking back and forth. “Layla says you’re favoring your bad side.”

Tattletale. Remus bit the instinctive thought back. That wasn’t fair. “Probably.” Moody raised an unamused brow at him. “Yeah,” he admitted, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.”

“The league doesn’t like it when I’m not nice to you boys.” Moody fixed him in place with a look. “But you’re not a snitch, so cough it up, you little shit.”

A scowl tried to claw its way onto Remus’ face, but he kept himself steady. Moody had done too much for him and saved him from too many bad places to be iced out. He kicked at a dust bunny. “Nine years.”

“Since…?”

“Since.”

“Ah.”

He sniffed, dry-eyed and nauseated. “Next Monday. Nine years. I still remember the day and time it happened.”

“We’re not playing Vegas next week.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Moody went quiet, and stayed that way for a long time. His chair creaked as he rocked in slow, maddening patterns. He’d have his leg off, tucked beneath his desk; he rarely left it on when he didn’t need to. Something about sweat. Itching. The works, he’d grumble if Remus asked. The ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ mug—a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa—sat undisturbed on his desk, filled to bursting. Pens, pencils, a spoon, a screwdriver, an inexplicable parrot feather, all interspersed with his steadily-growing collection of flags.

Remus remembered the day the first one had appeared. A simple rainbow with a wooden stick, no bigger than a postcard. Moody hadn’t said a thing, but he knew it was for him. It wasn’t the only one anymore. The sight of it still made his throat tight.

“Come see me if you need to,” Moody said at last. He tapped his pen on his stack of papers, then nodded. “For the record, I’m not worried. Out of my office.”

“Have a good night, Moody.” Thunder rolled overhead as he turned to the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

He got another grunt in the affirmative and turned the doorknob, hoping the squeaky top hinge would muffle his sigh. The door swung open, Remus walked face-first into Sirius’ chest, and everything went black as night.

“I don’t know why you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit.”

“My feelings aren’t bullshit.”

“Mon dieu—”

“I’m serious, I’m not angry.” Leo shut the drawer a little harder than necessary. The salt shaker rattled on the counter.

“Then what are you?” Logan demanded, keeping his voice low.

“I’m—” He pressed his lips together and tilted his face up to the ceiling. Upset. Hurt. Stressed. Frustrated. Angry. “I don’t know.”

“I already apologized for the rhubarb—”

“Rutabaga.”

“Jesus, Leo.” Logan’s tone was sharp; he flinched. Okay, maybe he deserved that one. He heard Logan’s unsteady exhale and felt a gentle touch on his arm. “I’m sorry. I should have listened better, or texted you when I wasn’t sure.”

And there it was again, that burning flare of annoyance. Leo shrugged him off and turned to the coffee maker. Someone had left their disposable cup in the machine the last time it was used. The sight made him want to take the entire thing and slam it on the floor.

“Leo?”

“I don’t want you to text me when you aren’t sure.” His voice came out shaky and he silently cursed himself. At least his hands didn’t tremble while he swapped the cups. “I—Logan, I shouldn’t have to be your food dictionary.”

“Hey.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek at the genuine hurt in Logan’s voice and dug through the mug cupboard. “Look, it’s fine, just…look it up if you’re not sure. It’s not like I hide my cookbooks.”

Or, better yet, be a capable adult. Logan’s sneakers shuffled on the linoleum. Where was his goddamn mug? “D’accord,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’ll—I can do that.”

Was it bad that Leo wanted him to push harder? Maybe he was just jonesing for a fight, but Logan’s instant buckling made him feel even worse. They had been waspish with each other earlier, enough that Finn outright refused to be in the same room until they figured themselves out—perhaps Logan had worn out his ability to argue for the day.

Leo snorted humorlessly. That would be a first.

Pastel yellow caught his peripheral vision. He clenched his hands on the edge of the countertop and took a deep, fortifying breath. Throwing a mug at a wall would get him fired. Throwing things at Logan would never be something he did, in this life or the next, no matter how angry he may or may not be.

Leo plucked the Me-Wow! mug from it’s place—dirty—in the sink—also dirty—by its tail-shaped handle and dropped it in the trash, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Logan and his coffee behind. Thunder rumbled overhead and guilt bubbled up. He shouldn’t leave like that, not when the storm was only going to get worse. Logan didn’t do well alone and upset. He had almost certainly left his headphones at home, too. Leo was never the one to leave but he just couldn’t take it—

He made it ten feet down the hall before the lights went out and silence doused the building.

Fuck.

James was not live, laugh, loving in these conditions. First of all, his best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was imploding with self-loathing for approximately the seventh time this week. Second, his wife’s best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was a nervous wreck despite his best attempts to keep himself together. And third, two of the rookies had worked themselves into a tiff that made Finn look like that.

Finn watched Logan leave after Leo in utter misery. Poor kid belonged in an ASPCA commercial.

In truth, James didn’t know what went wrong, exactly. Sirius had these cycles—he’d ride high and be so firm in himself, in what he loved and worked for, then crash so hard James expected it to leave visible wounds. It was far more frequent in the early days. Since Remus entered the picture, Sirius hadn’t spiraled more than a handful of times. It was like he needed a pressure-release valve to make sure all those internal works didn’t melt or rust over. Remus was better at getting Sirius to talk than just about anyone. It was shitty that Remus’ wan smiles and sickly pallor had to align with the exact time Sirius most needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.

James did his best, but he wanted them to be happy more than anything. More often than not, it meant he didn’t push nearly enough. They all had bad habits.

He knew Coach would bring it up today. Sirius’ dark mood had set them all on edge, caught in that place between wanting to prove themselves and wanting to stay out of the way. Whatever was happening between Leo and Logan had brought the scrap of good mood to rock-bottom. There was only so much slack James could pick up without exhausting himself, and he was already at the end of his rope.

Talker was still fussing with his sock tape when James looked over. The stickiness was dead from his rhythmic wrapping and unwrapping, but he didn’t seem to care. James nudged his toe with the front of his skate. “ ‘Sup?”

Talker half-shrugged. “Not much.”

“You were good in the scrimmage today.”

His hands stuttered on the roll before evening out again. “You, too.”

James scooted over into Remus’ stall and lowered his head, turning slightly away from the center of the room for an iota of privacy. “You wanna talk about it? If this is about the pass—”

“Noelle can’t make it for my birthday.”

Oh. Oh. James’ heart sank. “Aw, buddy.”

“They’re in the playoffs and someone rescheduled.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “It’s dumb, I just…”

“Miss her,” James finished when he trailed off.

Talker nodded. “Distance sucks.”

“I know.”

James tried not to be offended by Talker’s immediate skepticism. “You do?”

“Lily stayed in Boston for three years before transferring up here.” Worst three years of my life. “She wanted her BS in chemistry. I wasn’t going to be the schmuck to hold her back. We called, and FaceTimed, and texted when she was at school, but it—”

“Wasn’t the same,” they said in unison.

The ball of tape fell pathetically next to the trash bin. “I want to hug her,” Talker said. “It sounds so stupid, but I want to hug her. And—I don’t know, it’s been rainy today. She likes it when it rains.”

“Yeah.” James leaned over to bump his shoulder. “I hear if you cross your fingers and jump in a circle three times, your wishes come true.”

Talker was halfway through a laugh when the lights went out.

Oh my god, I went blind. The thought was wild and harebrained and ridiculous. So, precisely how Remus was feeling in every other aspect of his life.

“Oh.” Sirius sounded surprised. His hands were firm on Remus’ upper arms. “Bonjour.”

Remus blinked a few times to let his vision adjust to the sudden darkness. The remnants of the team’s shouts of surprise echoed briefly before going quiet. “Uh, hi,” he managed. Sirius was nothing more than a blob of shadow, but he felt along his arms and chest until he found a shoulder to pat. “Sorry. Power’s out?”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh. Did you…did you need something?”

Sirius shifted from foot to foot. “Uh. No, not really.”

Liar, but okay. Remus patted him again, and let his hand linger. The rink felt different like this. Low murmuring had started up again in the locker room, but everything else was grave-quiet without the familiar buzz of electricity. It felt like the heartbeat had stopped. Like they had paused in time. “We should—should we go back to the locker room?”

Sirius’ hands pulsed where he held Remus. “Sure,” he said with the reluctance of someone being asked to walk headfirst into the ocean.

Lightning cracked outside and Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius worrying at the inside of his lip in the brief light. “We can stay here,” he offered after a moment. “Or, like…go somewhere else for a bit.”

“Can we?”

The relief in Sirius’ voice ached. They had been so pent-up lately, neither willing to break the ice first but both suffering from their shared bad moods. Remus knew he had been more lost in his thoughts than down on Earth for days, and Sirius was being so…so Sirius. But not his Sirius. The Sirius that was twitchy, the Sirius that tossed and turned all night. The Sirius that barely finished his dinner.

Remus rolled the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt between his thumb and pointer finger, and pulled him in for a hug. His stiffness dissolved in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Sirius’ collarbone. He smelled good when Remus took a deep inhale, laundry soap and cologne. His arms were strong and solid around Remus’ back—he felt a few deep breaths come and go under his palms and inclined his head to let Sirius’ bury his face in his neck. His hair was damp from his post-practice rinse. It tickled Remus’ nose along the wings he liked to play with when Sirius was sleepy and cuddly. He sighed again. “Sirius, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t there for you this week.” Sirius’ breath warmed his neck. His hold on Remus tightened. “You don’t need to be sorry, loup.”

“Okay,” Remus said softly. “But I am.”

“If you’re sorry, then I’m—” Sirius broke off with a tired laugh and nuzzled further into his neck. “I don’t know. Throwing myself at your feet and begging for forgiveness.”

Remus snorted at that mental image, but held him closer anyway. “It’s okay. I know you don’t like feeling like this.”

“I don’t,” Sirius agreed. “Doesn’t mean I should stop paying attention to you.”

“I’ve been doing the same to you,” he reminded him gently.

“You had a reason.”

“And you didn’t?”

Sirius fell quiet. His fingertips slipped along the divot of Remus’ spine while his palm warmed the small of his back; Remus felt a bit silly, standing there in his socks in the dark, but it didn’t really matter when he could feel Sirius’ heart beginning to even out at last. Someone padded out of the locker room and down the hall. Red hair stood out for a half-second when lightning struck again and his worry eased. If Finn was going to check on his boys, everything would sort itself out.

“I hate that this still happens.” Sirius’ voice barely cleared a whisper. “It sneaks up on me, and then I can’t sleep and I’m not hungry—or, I am, I just can’t—and I don’t know when it will stop.”

“I know, baby.”

“I want to sleep next to you and not be thinking about the next game, Re.”

Remus slipped his hands beneath Sirius’ arms and pressed their bodies together like he could press reassurance into him. If he could take that burden, he would. If he could fix it, he would. If he had the right words to tell Sirius that he didn’t care whether he was perfect or a wreck, he would. He pushed his nose under the soft spot of Sirius’ jaw and kissed him there. “I love you.”

A small sound stuck in Sirius’ throat.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated with another kiss. Just because he could.

The rise and fall of Sirius’ shoulders was steady now. “Je t’aime aussi. Whatever you need for this week, I’m here, okay? I’m in your nook.”

“My…nook?”

“Your—” Sirius huffed a laugh. “I’m on your side. Whatever the saying is.”

“In my corner?” Remus suggested around a smile. Sirius grumbled something vaguely agreeable and swatted at him, but never loosened their hug for a second.

Leo was holding him, and he wasn’t even angry anymore. Not like he had been. Thunder rattled a distant window and Logan’s grip twisted in the front of his shirt. “I’m fine,” he said.

Leo kissed his temple. “Yeah.”

They lapsed back into silence. He was usually so good at problem-solving, but every time he tried to speak, his tongue got stuck on the words. The anger had burnt itself out. The frustration and annoyance were still there, alongside the hurt. He wished Finn was there. Finn always knew what words to use.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said haltingly. Logan shifted in his arms. “I was shitty to you. Earlier, I mean. I should have talked to you.”

Logan didn’t answer. Somehow, that was the worst outcome. Leo knew how to match him in a verbal fight.

Lightning flashed. Logan flinched. Leo held him like he alone could stop the light from taking his boyfriend by surprise. That was it, wasn’t it? Even pissed off, he’d still hold Logan rather than leaving him in the dark with a thunderstorm.

They didn’t speak, just swayed in place. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer each second before coming to a halt in the doorway. “Babes?”

“Here,” they chorused softly.

“Um.” Finn audibly hesitated. “Okay, give me a landmark. I’m so blind right now.”

“By the countertop,” Leo offered. Logan burrowed deeper into his chest. He was fever-hot the way he got when he was upset. Finn’s noise of sympathy when he found them and felt it somehow made it worse. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey.” Leo heard the sound of a soft kiss. “Lo, you good?”

“Ouais,” came the murmured answer.

They lapsed into silence for the length of another roll of thunder. “And you…” Finn faltered. “You figured yourselves out?”

Leo looked away despite the darkness. They remained silent.

“Right,” Finn sighed.

“I don’t know what I did,” Logan blurted. “You said this wasn’t about the rutabaga, but it is, and you said you’re not angry, but you are, and I’m confused. And I’m really sorry for whatever I did to upset you, Peanut. I’m being so honest right now.”

“That’s the problem,” Leo said helplessly.

Logan clutched at his shirt, as if the answers were hidden in the fabric. “What?” he asked. “What is the problem? Stop doing that, I told you, I’m confused. Are you angry?”

“A little,” Leo choked out. Ugh, honesty was sawdust in his mouth.

“Is it about the rutabaga?”

“No.”

Logan made a frustrated noise, but Finn cut him off before he could continue. “What is it about, sweetheart?” he asked, so gentle it burned.

Leo let out a long breath, unwinding one arm from Logan’s waist to wrap it around Finn instead. He was nice and cool from his shower. They had all been running too hot lately.

“I’m not your mom, Lo,” he began. “We’re all grown-ups here. You know what food looks like. You know how to google things.” He felt the feelings ramp up again and rather than swallowing them back, let them siphon out on an exhale. Everything inside him was a miserable, knotted mess. “You don’t need me to come to the store with you all the time, and it pisses me off when you keep asking because I’m—'better at it’, or whatever. It’s not my job to shop for you. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Logan’s chest caved against his own. He mumbled something under his breath and Leo closed his eyes.

“I can’t hear you when you do that, c’mon, please—"

“I said, it’s not because I need you to shop for me.” Logan’s voice shook slightly, but not with anger.

“Then why would you ask me to walk to the store with you for the ‘right garlic’?” he sighed.

Logan raised his head, leaving a cold spot on the left side of Leo’s chest. “Because I want to spend time with you.”

That—was not the answer he had been expecting. You’re better at it, Logan would say. You know the foods better than I do. The realization came in waves; he had been teasing. Joking. Making it a bit. And Leo thought he was dead serious the whole damn time. All the frustration he had built up around himself cam down with a rush and a clatter. His heart made a break for hell with a pit stop at his stomach. He stared into the dark nothingness of the rink break room and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I…” He broke off. Words had gotten him into this mess. Were they both that terrible at communicating properly? Finn bumped his arm and he took the hint (for once), wrapping Logan in a hug. By some miracle, Logan hugged him back. “That is the sweetest fucking thing, and I’m so sorry,” he managed, hoarse. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Logan, that was such a fucked-up thing for me to think.”

“I do actually like you, you know,” Logan said, muffled in his shoulder.

The remnants of Leo’s heart went for another spin through the shredder. “No, I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I like you, too.” He pressed a hard kiss to Logan’s temple and squeezed him tighter. “I like you so much. So much.”

“And I know what kind of garlic you like.”

Tears made Leo’s eyes sting and he violently wished them back. He had no right to cry over this. None at all. “Of course you do.”

Logan scratched lightly between his shoulder blades. “I don’t want to think about the type of people that made you think I’d do that, though. But if you want to give me names and addresses…”

Leo laughed weakly and felt Finn huff against him. “No, none of that,” Leo said with a kiss to Logan’s messy curls. He kissed his cheek, too, and his lips for good measure. Slow and easy, the way they both liked it. He wanted to make sure Logan was paying attention. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You did nothing wrong. I love you so, so much and I never should have thought that about you.”

In the hallway, the whir of generators kicked up. Soft light cast Logan in gold and dull shadows, just enough to make out the conflicted look on his face. His thumb was rough against Leo’s jaw. “I wish you thought better of yourself,” he said quietly. “You’re fun to be around, even walking to the store.”

I wish I had thought better of you. Leo pulled him close without a word and caught Finn’s gaze over Logan’s shoulder. His expression told him everything he needed to know, and he shut his eyes as Finn’s arms came around them both. A kiss lingered just above his ear. Leo kind of wanted to cry all over again.

The generators were a masterpiece of mechanics. The emergency switch flipped the moment the building lost power from the main grid, pooling energy around the rink itself to keep the ice solid. The rest of the lights would come on within fifteen to twenty minutes, beginning with the stadium seats and ending with the more fringe areas, like locker room and kitchens. They were top of the line, the best you could buy for a massive space that relied heavily on electricity to keep it functional.

They were no match for the Lions.

Ice cream, popsicles, and enough beer to cover the team twice over were liberated from the various refrigerators in less than five minutes. The team gathered on the floor of the locker room with iPhone flashlights and glowsticks (also ‘borrowed’ from the adjacent rooms) to enjoy their haul in peace and to play stupid, silly games like middle schoolers at a sleepover. They played games for a living, for crying out loud. Their favorite game. Why on earth would they take it too seriously when an opportunity like this presented itself?

Equal cheers and groans went up when the lights came back on. Moody was the first to leave, having only stuck around that long because the space outside his office door was occupied with an apparently necessary conversation. Arthur was next. The general consensus among the players was that the weather was simply too bad to risk driving. For their safety, they should stay and enjoy their goodies.

The morning security shift found them right where Arthur left them, puppy-piled by their stalls and surrounded by joyous havoc.

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