#o'knutzy

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

June part iv

I’ll tell you the truth

But never goodbye

Remus thought about practice and all the sounds he wouldn’t be hearing again for a couple of months now. A din he desperately hoped would come again in the Fall.

The quiet bustle of the boys arriving. Yawns and some early morning groans. Bags being tossed down into stalls. Velcro and stick tape. The skate sharpener across the hall. The shivery sound of a bucket of pucks being scattered onto the ice. The slap of pucks and bodies on the boards rebounding in a high-roofed, empty rink. The ping of the goalposts. Bursts of laughter between drills. Showers stuttering into a hard, hot spray and the echo of voices off of tiles.

He wanted it all again. The crowds and video tape sessions. The signings and the chance to meet fans. The wins—even the losses. Even the press conferences. He wanted to see his best friends every day. He wanted to win.

They didn’t have a destination, but neither Remus nor Sirius tried to change that. They walked through the New York streets, downtown, where everything felt a little bit like a movie set. Most places were shut tight for the night, but it still felt alive.

Sirius looked handsome in the city lights. In his jeans and t-shirt. More importantly, he looked relaxed. More relaxed than Remus had expected, anyway.

“You’re calm.”

Sirius didn’t look over at him, but a small smile appeared on his face. “Maybe I just look it.”

“Okay, fair.” Remus squeezed their tangled fingers together. “I just meant that you don’t seem…”

“Miserable.”

“Well, sure. That word works.”

“I’m just…” Sirius looked down at him. “Not sure if it’s sunk in yet, maybe. You?”

“No. Not really.”

Sirius squeezed his hand back and Remus felt his engagement ring press into his skin. If anything good came out of this, it was that he would not be taking of his ring any time soon. He caught it glinting in the passing lights.

“New York really never sleeps,” Remus said.

“Neither do we, apparently.”

It was helping more than sleep, though—the walking. It was starving off the soreness they were bound to feel soon. He’d already glimpsed a bad bruise forming near his knee.

“Either way,” Remus said. “I like these walks of ours. It feels different than Gryf.”

“Ouais,” Sirius agreed. “At least we both have rivers.”

The next street they turned onto was not asphalt, but cobblestones. It wound and bent, going against the grid of New York that Remus had become accustomed to. He leaned his head back to look up at the lit apartments above. It might have been two AM, but he could see shadows moving around, or the colorful flickers of televisions.

“Did you talk to Logan?” he asked.

“Non, not really. I mean, on the ice I did. But I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there.”

“Yeah.” Remus sighed. He fought the urge to start talking about the game. Part of him wanted to know each and every single one of Sirius’ thoughts. The hit in the second. The odd, sloppy breakaway in the third. That last buzzer attempt.

“You want to talk about it don’t you,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, then groaned, hiding it in Sirius’ shoulder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

It was something special, to have someone who could read his mind. He closed his eyes, inhaling Sirius’ familiar scent and trusting him to guide him on the street. Sirius’ hand disappeared from his and wrapped around his waist instead. A kiss was pressed to Remus’ temple.

“Curb,” Sirius said softly, and Remus stepped down to cross the street then opened his eyes.

“Magnetic,” Remus said. “Do you remember them calling us that?”

“No one needed to remind me.”

Remus tightened his arms around Sirius’ hips and pressed a kiss over his shirt. “I know. I was just remembering.”

Their passes had connected so thoroughly this series. So well. It was awful, almost mean that the passes that stuck in their minds the most were the ones that had missed. 

“How about we keep remembering…” Sirius began. “But how about we do it with fries and milkshakes.”

Remus looked up. The idea made his mouth water. “Yes. What made you say that?”

Sirius just smiled and jerked his chin forward. “Là.”

There was a diner on the corner. Many of the booths in the window were filled—Other people in search of late-night snacks. The neon sign out front read 24 HOURS and Remus could see a group of girls with milkshakes and a basket of fries in front of them.

He reached up to wrap his arms around Sirius’ neck and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. “Love of my fucking life.”

He felt Sirius smile. Sirius reached for his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing his ring. “Ouais, it’s true.”

He held the door open for Remus.

They were shuffled into a leather, worn booth and given giant seemingly endless menus. Remus found that he could hardly sit still. He kept laughing to himself. At one point, when Sirius gave him an amused, dazed look, he’d had to cover his mouth.

“You’re wild on adrenaline,” Sirius laughed.

Remus wondered if that was it. If adrenaline was what this was. These weird, surprising tight bursts of joy bubbling over in his chest. Surely he should be feeling low. He had just lost part of his childhood dream yet again.

Was adrenaline fueling the smile Sirius gave him when their two chocolate milkshakes and order of fries arrived? Did adrenaline cause Sirius to skeptically watch him dip a fry into the thick chocolate? Did it make them both laugh when Sirius tried it, made a face, and quickly switched back to ketchup?

Or maybe something had changed.

“You know, I always wanted to talk about games with you,” Remus said.

“Always?”

“You know. Before.” Remus brought the straw of his milkshake between his teeth. “I always wondered what you were thinking. Even when you were mean to me.”

Sirius groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Arrêt.”

Remus reached across the table and tried to pull his hands away. “I did! Sirius, don’t hide, come here.” He laughed when Sirius wouldn’t. “Sirius.”

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed himself up from his side of the booth, only to slide into Remus’, arm along the back behind him and tight against his side.

“Wh…” Remus began.

Sirius leaned forward and stole the fry from Remus’ fingers with a short tug of his teeth. “You said come here.”

“That was my fry.”

“Too late.”

“Meanie.”

Sirius just made the sound that Remus associated with both him and Logan—a very Quebecois sort of tisk of disapproval (in Logan’s part, mostly jokingly aimed at Finn). Sirius’ arm slid from the booth to Remus’ shoulders and he kissed him. Remus tilted his chin up into it and let himself relax.

“Chocolate and potatoes?” Sirius asked as he dipped to kiss Remus’ jaw. “Really?”

“Sweet and salty,” Remus replied, trying not to let his eyes slip closed. They were in a diner.

“Weirdo.”

Remus hissed at a playful nip to his neck and Sirius pulled back. Sirius dragged his milkshake over to their side of the table and took a long sip. Remus could tell he was thinking. Remus had always been able to tell when he was thinking. Even when he hadn’t been able to figure out anything else about Sirius.

“Tell me,” Remus said.

“I wish I hadn’t broken that stick,” Sirius said quietly. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Re…”

“I know,” Remus said. “I know.”

Sirius let out a frustrated sound and rubbed at his eyes. “Merde…I don’t know what gets into me. Well, I do…”

They had both been expecting them, but as the clouds of loss edged back into their peripheral vision, Remus sighed. Sirius tightened his arm around Remus and tilted their heads together. Remus closed his eyes as they took each other’s weight.

“Julian said it best,” Sirius said. “I wanted this for you.”

“And you.”

Sirius pressed his lips together. “I—yes.”

Remus arched a brow, confused by the conflicted look on Sirius’ face. “What, what’s that look?”

Sirius sighed. He smiled, just a little. A bewildered sort of smile. He hooked his fingers into the plastic fry basket mindlessly, the greasy paper crinkling at his touch. His eyes went a little unfocused as he thought. Their blue-gray looked so fair in the diner’s light. “I keep wondering why I’m not as upset as I usually would be. I keep trying to, like…” He moved his free hand outward in a small sharp motion, palm forward. “Push myself towards being that upset. Which is insane. Why do I feel guilty for feeling slightly okay about this?”

“I…” Remus nodded slowly. “I get that. I do. Hey, but that’s good. It’s good you feel okay, you wouldn’t have been okay other years. That’s why I said you seem so calm I’m…I’m fucking proud of you for it.”

“Ouais. I guess…” His expression turned almost shy. “I guess me too.”

That made Remus smile.

“What I mean is…I’m gutted.” Sirius picked up a fry. “I want to throw something, I want a do-over…I want to be angry at Logan.” He tossed the fry back, turning to look at Remus. “But the thing that I keep thinking about isn’t the game. Isn’t the Cup. It’s you.”

Remus’ smile faltered. He looked down. “Yeah? Well… you keep catching yourself feeling guilty?” Sirius nodded. “Well, I keep catching myself thinking that this was it. That I’m finished.”

“You’re not. Re.” Sirius’ hand cupped his shoulder and Remus turned his head to look down at it. He could have drawn his scar in perfect alignment even while not being able to see it. Sirius’ fingers, over his shirt, traced it perfectly, too. He watched Sirius do it once, then twice. It was so much apart of him that even Sirius could map it into his skin.

“Loops.”

“You almost never call me that anymore.”

“Well, right now you’re my teammate as much as everything else and I’m telling you you’re going to get there.”

Remus smiled. He felt the waver in it and so did Sirius. “Telling me as my Captain?”

“As your Captain,” Sirius confirmed. His fingers traced the scar again. “As your friend and teammate who watched you…watched you take every part of your life back from Fenrir.”

Remus surprised himself with a laugh and tears springing to his eyes. “Fuck. I did, didn’t I?”

“Ouais.” Sirius kissed a tear away. “You fucking did.”

“Oh my God,” Remus whispered as the tears pressed harder at him. He tucked his face into Sirius’ neck and Sirius wrapped him up tight. His voice was warm and familiar in his ear.

“I’m telling you as all those things, and I’m telling you as someone who loves you more than anything. Ever.” Sirius’ hand spanned his back, rubbing gently. “D’accord. I think that was most of my English for tonight.”

Remus laughed tearfully again, and then let out a quiet sob, shoulders hitching. “I don’t know if I’m crying because I’m sad or relieved or what.”

“I don’t know either,” Sirius said. His voice held a teasing note. “But our waitress looks like she’s going to bring us free pie.”

Their next laughs were realer, and Remus pulled back. Sirius made a soft sound and thumbed away the tear tracks on Remus’ cheeks. Sirius still looked tired. The strain of the game was still there, but there was a happy, weightless flush to his cheeks that Remus had never seen before.

Sirius dipped a fry in his chocolate shake and held it out to Remus. “Sweet and salty night.”

Remus let Sirius feed him the chocolatey fry. Sirius dipped his own in ketchup and popped it into his mouth. Remus looked over his familiar profile. He’d seen it in shadows and bright lights…he would see him soon in the lake house’s sunset.

“Next year, mon loup,” Sirius said. “You and me. It’s not the end.”

Remus nodded and let Sirius tuck him back under his arm. “You and me.”

~

Logan was leaning against the side of the rooftop bar between Luke and Alex, listening to everyone swap stories and enjoying the warm wind on his back. It was good to be with Percy and Will again. He was glad now, basking in the New York night, that he hadn’t ruined this year for himself—at least not the entire year. He was glad he could stand here laughing with them about old times. The desperate fog of sadness from his first month still haunted him, but it was easier now. That was all he could hope for.

His rum and coke was sweet, but not as good as it was when Finn made it for him. The chicken wings on the table were spicy, but not as balanced as Leo’s. What had started with promises of a big, wild night had mellowed out quickly. It seemed like the team was content to simply be together, basking in the high of the win. Logan was basking with them. Just a little. Even when part of his heart, part of his mind, part of everything that was him, was at home with Leo and Finn.

It was close to three in the morning and Percy was in full form, joking with him about all the girls trying to get his attention. It was true—their group had been clocked the second they came in.

“I swear that’s the sixth one,” Percy sighed, looking over at the bar. “We’re just stars in your galaxy huh, Tremzy.”

“It’s the eyes. Nothing’s changed since college,” Will added. “Thank God Finn isn’t here.” Will had stayed out with them, which was rare. Usually he went home to his family before long. Logan was happy he was here. He’d always loved how loud his laugh was. It reminded him of Freshman year, hanging out in the kitchen of OKN house with Finn and Percy, watching Will cook the house dinner. He’d been such a good captain. The best, besides Sirius.

“What would happen if Finn was here?” Saint asked. He was standing at Luke’s side. Luke kept stealing sips of his whiskey—and narrowing his eyes playfully when Logan smiled at him.

“He, ah, sort of forgets what flirting is,” Logan explained and Alex nodded, pointing at Logan like it would enhance how true that was.

“I mean, maybe it’s more like he’s too good at it?” Percy offered.

Logan laughed. “He talks to everyone and it’s only when they ask him for his number after like, twenty minutes of talking—”

Alex laughed. “Then he’s like, oh no.”

Logan tried for a Finn accent. “Oh, shoot, sorry, I’m actually…”

Will threw his head back with that wonderful, infectious laugh. “Wait, that’s so dead on.”

Logan smiled. “But it was so so wonderful getting to know you! Those pictures you showed me of your dog—Man, they made my night.”

“All right,” Saint held up a hand. “I get it.”

“Yeah stop, it’s creepy now,” Alex said. “That’s scary good. Maybe better than mine.”

Luke scoffed. “Dude, you can’t have a Finn impression. You are a Finn impression.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Alex held up a hand. “If anything, Finn is an impression of moi.”

Logan smiled. He glanced at his phone. One new message, but from Noelle telling him he was coming to lunch tomorrow. It was late.

“Hey, hey,” Percy said, making Logan look up. “I know that look…Nu-uh. Not yet.”

Logan raised his eyebrows, smiling. “Perc.” He put on the Finn voice again. “C’mon, give me a break.”

Percy shuddered. “Okay, I didn’t mean to open this can of worms. This terrifying can of worms.”

“Perc, he beat his boys out today,” Will said. “If he wants to go home, let him.”

Percy put his hands against his chest. “But I haven’t even gotten to the best part of my day yet!”

“How could we ever guess,” Saint said flatly.

Percy winked at him. “Sebastian…Cassie Baker smiled at me today.”

Logan laughed and finished his drink. “Ouais, I’m out. You can moon over my ex-girlfriend without me.”

Alex finished off his drink, too. “I’m done, too. This was fun, boys.”

Percy spluttered. “What? It is young. The night. The earth—is young!”

“I have two boyfriends in my bed, warm and asleep,” Logan said, pushing up from the wall. “And my bed is usually very cold and very empty. So. This was fun. Goodbye.” He looked over at Luke, knocking him lightly in the shoulder as a way of saying goodnight. Luke jerked his chin in reply.

“Tremzy.” Percy actually pouted. “No, non, no.”

“Ouais, yeah, ouais,” Logan said. Percy grabbed onto his arm and made a show of putting most of his weight on Logan to keep him in place. Logan did nothing to help him and Percy began sliding towards the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Will dragged Percy back to his feet with a fond shake of his head. “You’re so embarrassing.” he nodded to Alex and Logan. “You two have a good night. Don’t beat yourselves up too hard. It was a good game.”

“Yeah.” Alex sighed but nodded. “It was.” He looked up and called over to the bar. “A round for these guys, Hank!” He tussled Percy’s hair. “My parting gift, Perseus.”

Percy sent them a mournful look, but looked willing enough to accept the drink. “Fine.”

Even Saint cracked a smile.

“That really was a good Finn,” Alex said as Logan followed him down the stairs to the main restaurant and out the door. A breeze picked up on the dark street.

“Merci.” Logan shivered a little in his thin shirt. “Are you calling an Uber?”

Alex sent him an unimpressed look.

Logan sighed. “You’re walking, aren’t you?”

“What do you take me for?”

“Fuck,” Logan said, but followed him.

It was like walking with Finn—Logan didn’t have to think about directions or finding his way around. He knew they lived near each other but would have to split up at some point. Alex would tell him when they did. For now, the air felt good against his skin and the silence was gentle. Sometimes he still felt like he could hear the game in his head.

“Finn asked me once to try and take the shot for you if I could,” Alex said.

Logan wasn’t surprised. Alex touched his elbow briefly to get him to turn left.

“Luke offered me the same,” he said. “It…it is what it is.” But that wasn’t quite right. “Non. It fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I’ve had that with Kasey. You want to apologize when there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Logan half nodded, half shook his head. “I don’t know. I wish I had gotten to see Le before we left. I thought he needed space. I thought I needed space…I guess we did. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Adrenaline’s wearing off,” Logan said. “I miss him.”

“You’re walking home.”

“I know,” Logan said, eyes down. “But I miss him.”

Alex’s hand appeared on his back, rubbing gently.

“Is Kasey doing okay?” Logan asked.

Alex was quiet for a long time. When Logan looked over, he was frowning down at the ground and fiddling with the small, dark diamond he wore.

“Alex?”

Alex guided him right. The light was red but not a car was in sight. “It’s…really hard for me to tell right now actually.” He stepped up onto a low wall and balanced for a few steps before jumping off again. The temperature had dropped. Logan thought it felt like rain.

“You’re the one who told me to talk to Finn when I was worried about us,” Logan began carefully, and frowned when Alex sort of flinched. “You’re not the type to not take your own advice.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Sometimes I am.”

Logan supposed that was true enough. No one always practiced what they preached. Logan watched their feet as they walked, waiting for Alex to say more. They had fallen into sync. They were quiet for a while again. Alex lead him straight, then left, the straight on again. Logan knocked their shoulders together at one point. Alex knocked back.

“I’m not…worried about us,” Alex said suddenly. “Exactly… I just wonder—I wonder if I’m…” He rubbed a tired hand across his face as they avoided a puddle at a curb. Logan was beginning to think this was about the wedding. He didn’t blame Alex if it was. If Leo and Finn suddenly decided to get married, he’d crawl out of his fucking skin.

“You should tell them,” Logan said softly. He realized he was replying to unsaid things, but if anyone might understand even a sliver of Alex’s situation, it was him.

Alex’s face tightened. “Tell them what?”

Logan thought for a moment. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need to.”

“What I need to?” Alex repeated. “What I need is to show them—show them that I…” Alex gave a sharp shake of his head. Just as suddenly, Alex switched topics. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

Logan looked up at him. “Alex—”

“I hope—did I force you? I’m sorry, Tremz.”

“What? Non, non. I…I’m glad I came. Really, I am. But—”

“Okay,” Alex said. “Just checking.”

The streets turned to cobblestones and took on curves. There were still a few apartment glowing. Logan liked that. It felt like Gryffindor. There was always a light on. Finally, Alex stopped.

“You’re right,” Alex said. “I’m left.”

“Oh, I thought you were agreeing with me.” What he meant was you can talk to me. “Al, can I do anything?”

Alex smiled. It was a little tight, but he gave Logan a playful shove in the right direction. “No. Thanks, Tremz.”

Logan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t know how to push either.

They stood there in front of each other for a moment. Alex huffed out a laugh and hugged him hard. A hug Logan associated with Finn, with Finn’s parents. They both did the little shoulder pat that their mom hugged with, too. It made Logan smile.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, muffled by Logan’s shoulder.

When Logan had crossed the street, he turned. He felt like he hadn’t tried hard enough, and he’d already made that mistake once tonight with Leo.

“Mais—I’ll say one thing?”

“What’s up?” Alex nodded, waiting on the corner.

“What you said earlier,” Logan said. “In the locker room and just now. About showing them. That we can be both lovers and—” He almost said enemies. “Opponents.”

“The…oh. Yeah?”

“I think…I think I won a hockey game today,” Logan said. "And I love my boyfriend. If I had lost a hockey game, I would still love my boyfriend. When there are no more hockey games, I’ll still love Leo. And if someone, some fucking reporter wants to link those two things, then they can go to hell.”

Alex was shades of blue and silver across the narrow street.

Logan shifted, a little nervous now. “I don’t think…I don’t think we have to show anyone anything. If it’s okay for me to say…”

Logan thought of the hell this year had been. He thought of Leo, holding him when they’d found out he was going to New York. Leo, tumbling into their living room in the middle of the night when Logan had come home from All-Stars. Leo and his soft kisses in the bright hospital hallway while they waited to see if Finn was okay. None of that was a show. Leo might like to put on a performance on the ice for the fans, but everything else about him was instinct, real and pure. Logan admired that. He’d put up fronts for Finn for so long, fronts that he was still tearing down.

“You don’t have to show Kasey and Nat anything. Not, like, a happy face or that you’re okay. That’s not…” Logan shook his head. “That’s just a bad habit, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head up to look at the faint moon over the city. It wasn’t full, but it was getting there.

“Tremzy…” Alex said slowly. When he smiled, the moonlight lit up his face. “You know what?”

“Quoi?”

“You’re fucking right.” Alex put a hand to his chest. The necklace glinted between his fingers. “You’re so fucking right.”

Logan let out a breath. He smiled back. “Yeah? I don’t know if that made sense in English.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s voice cracked, his brown eyes were bright with tears, but when Logan made to step forward he waved him off.

“Well,” Alex said. “I’m going home now.”

There was a lot of relief in that word. So much that it made Logan smile and feel choked up, too. “Me too.”

Logan tried to open the door as quietly as possible, going slow and expecting darkness.

Only, the lamp above his couch was on, turned down to the dimmest setting, and Finn was looking at him from just below it. He was wearing his faded NASA t-shirt and sweatpants, socked feet crossed on top of a pillow. His sling was draped over the back of the couch, his arm resting easily atop another pillow which also propped his book up.

Sleeping against his chest, was Leo.

Logan wanted to crumble to his knees.

“Oh,” Logan mouthed. He kept perfectly still.

Finn folded the book closed silently. He had his glasses on. Hi, his soft eyes said, and then with a glance down at Leo and a palm on his back: Don’t worry, I’ve got him.

Logan set his keys into the bowl by the door as quietly as he could. Leo. He toed his shoes off. Leo. He walked over to the couch and knelt beside them.

“You are so bad at sneaking,” Finn whispered—so quiet. “Did you have a good time?”

“Ouais,” Logan whispered back. He settled a palm beside Finn’s on Leo’s back, eyes trained on his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. Logan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss over his t-shirt. He looked up at Finn so he could read his lips more than hear him. “Had a good walk with Alex.”

Finn’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “Oh? Alex…is very good to walk with.”

Logan nodded. He would tell Finn he was a little worried tomorrow.

“Is he okay?” Finn asked softly.

“He will be,” Logan said. He nodded towards Leo. “And ours?”

Finn rubbed a slow hand down Leo’s back with a sigh.

“Lo…”

So far, Leo hadn’t stirred, but at Finn’s touch Logan felt the change in his breathing. Logan could always tell when Leo was awake. Slowly, Leo’s eyes opened. His cheeks were flushed. He regarded Logan sleepily for a moment. Logan felt Leo’s muscles tense as he remembered.

“Hi,” Logan said softly. “Hi, Le.”

“You—” Leo began, but his voice was hoarse and he had to begin again. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I did,” Logan said. “But I want to be here. Merde, Le, I wanted to be here fucking hours ago, I…” Logan shook his head. He was upset with himself, more so than he’d allowed himself to realize earlier tonight. “I should have come and see you. Soleil, I didn’t know…I didn’t know if you’d want…God, I love you, what can I do? Is there anything?”

Tears filled Leo’s eyes. He gave his head a small shake.

“Okay,” Logan said. Was he allowed to reach out to him? Did Leo want that? “Okay…”

“I’m going home with my parents tomorrow for a couple days, Lo.”

Everything in Logan froze. He looked up at Finn, whose eyes told him that this was what he had been about to say.

“Quoi?” Logan breathed. All the tension came right back into him. The fizzy, heavy quiet drained right out of his head.

“Lo,” Finn said, slightly warning.

It knocked him off balance, sitting back on his knees, but Finn reached out and grabbed his hand. His brown eyes were firm, clouded with racing thoughts and emotions. Relax. Think. Wait. Finn’s fingers squeezed around his own. Think. His thumbs made slow tracks across Logan’s knuckles. It’s okay. Think about him. Think about why.

Slowly, slowly, Logan pulled himself back towards Leo, who was watching him with exhausted blue eyes.

Logan let out a breath, he squeezed Finn’s hand then dropped it and combed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I…okay. Okay. Whatever you need, Soleil.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you play—”

“Shh,” Logan whispered. “Le. Leo. It’s not about me. I know I just—um. Freaked out for a second. I’m sorry. We’ve had enough of that this year, ouais?” He leaned down to kiss Leo’s temple. “Home is always good.”

Finn closed his eyes at that, tucking his nose into Leo’s hair. “He’s right, Le. I…he’s right.”

Leo’s first sob was quiet, just a hitch of his chest, but the second came out in a harsh breath. He turned his face towards Finn’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Logan felt Leo’s pain right in the center of his chest. “We love you. So much. Le…” Logan wrapped an arm around his back, and Leo reached out a hand to hold his.

“We do,” Finn whispered. “We’re right here.”

“Always,” Logan said. “And—Le, you played so well tonight.” Logan’s throat closed up and he had to pause before he could talk again. “And I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re so talented and this year has been shit. It’s been absolute shit, Le.”

“I really—love you, I just—I need…” Leo gave up trying to talk, just pressed closer to Finn.

“You don’t have to explain,” Finn said soothingly. “We understand.”

“Ouais.” Logan nodded. “I also would—would want Eloise’s chicken soup.” Logan wiped his eyes clear of tears so he could see Leo better. “Even with full spice.”

It startled a laugh out of Leo, crying and blocked-nosed as it was. “Full spice?”

“Ouais, I would. I swear it.”

“Me too,” Finn said. “It’d make me cry but me too.”

  Outside it started to rain. A crack of thunder and the force of the drops doubled. Logan didn’t realize he’d hardly looked up until the second clap of thunder.

“The storm,” Leo said.

“Can’t hear it,” Logan replied.

Leo took a few breathes, then picked up his head from Finn’s chest and looked at him.

“Hi, pillow.”

Finn laughed softly. “Very happy to be of service.”

“Didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep at all.” Leo pressed a kiss to Finn’s chin and groaned a little as he pushed himself into a sitting position, like he hadn’t moved in ages. He let out a long breath, rubbing at his eyes.

“I love you guys, too,” Leo said. He reached out for Logan. “The ice…Seeing you on the ice…”

Logan shook his head. “I know.” He pushed himself up onto the couch when Leo made free the space on his other side. Finn sat up and slipped his sling back over his head to cradle his arm. He sat facing them criss-crossed and Leo touched his face. Finn kissed his palm.

“Did you guys eat after the game?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “Finn wanted to get me something but…I really just didn’t want anything.”

“You should have something,” Logan said, then he leaned forward for a quick kiss. “Wait.” This. This was something he could do. “Don’t move, either of you.”

Logan moved around in the yellow light of his kitchen with hard-fought for ease. He cracked eggs into a bowl. He poured a splash of milk in, the way Leo had taught him. In the pan, he kept the heat on low, turning the eggs slowly so their soft curl didn’t break. He turned the heat off while they were still just a little runny, slid them onto the toasts—which he had managed to time perfectly—to let them finish cooking while they melted in butter and a few passes of shaved cheddar. Four shakes of chili flakes. He went to the fridge and found the fresh mint that Leo had bought for him. He waited a moment for his kettle to boil, then clumped the mint into three mugs and poured the hot water over them. A little drizzle of honey in Leo’s, a big drizzle in his, none for Finn.

In the living room, Finn and Leo were dozing together. Outside, the sky lit up with lightning and both of their eyes opened. Leo held out his arm.

“You’re back.”

“Of course,” Logan said.

Leo looked over at Finn. “See?”

Finn shuffled Leo closer under his arm. “I do. I do.”

Logan braced himself, setting the tray of Leo’s eggs and the three teas down just in time for the thunder to make him flinch. Leo’s eyes were clearer now. He smiled when they saw the food.

“Aw, Lo…”

“It’s nothing like you can do,” he said. “But I love you.”

I love you, love you, love you.

He settled the plate on Leo’s lap and watched as he took a bite, humming as he chewed. He held out the toast for Finn. Another crack of thunder rang out, but Logan hardly heard. He was warm in one of those softly glowing apartments he’d seen from the street. The sun was going to rise soon and Leo and Finn were tucked close to him. Their faces were tear-streaked, noses still sniffling, and it wasn’t quite their summer. Not yet.

Outside it was raining and thundering, but inside it was beginning to feel to Logan like their storm was passing by.

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 1: First Frost

Happy fest, y’all! Here’s some Harvard-era FinnLo pining to ring in day one. Huge thank-yous to @lumosinlove for the Sweater Weather characters and universe and to @noots-fic-fests for organizing the fest!

Title: Love at First Fright Pairing: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay Rating: G

“Trick or treat!”

Finn smiled at the ghost-witch-robot trio looking up at him and dropped three handfuls of candy into the plastic pumpkin pails they held up expectantly.

“Hey, nice costumes! Happy Halloween!”

The kids barely stood still long enough to say it back before they were taking off in the opposite direction of the frat house, eager to get back to their parents and hit up more treat stops around campus before dark. It was a good day for it; classic autumn in New England, from the crispness in the air to the red, brown and yellow leaves drifting down off the trees to cover the manicured grass in a vibrant seasonal blanket. Even the deep red of Harvard’s brick buildings seemed more beautiful in October, like they were meant to exist in a state of perpetual fall.

Throngs of local kids—and some of their parents—were all decked out in their Halloween best, while Finn and the rest of the OKN guys wore school-branded clothes while taking turns manning the candy-laden folding table outside the house between classes. (Finn wasn’t sure any of them owned a costume they could wear outside in broad daylight.) 

He laughed as Percy walked over, refill bag in hand, wearing the exact same gray sweatshirt with a crimson HARVARD across the chest as he was, the same black joggers—almost the same sneakers. “Fashion.”

Percy grinned back at him. “You know it, baby.” He turned the bag upside down, dumping the candy into any bowls that weren’t full and spilling some across the table as he went.

“Yo, you’re getting jolly ranchers all over the ground.”

“You’re a fuckin’ jolly rancher.”

“You’re a fuckin’ kit-kat.”

“You’re a—”

“Shut up, there’s kids,” Will warned, then passed some treats to a tiny ballerina with a kind smile and a compliment for her costume.

“Oh shit, my bad,” Percy said, and Finn snorted as Will cuffed him on the side of the head.

Finn unwrapped a watermelon jolly rancher and popped it into his mouth as he watched students and families pass by. Percy nudged him with an elbow, getting his attention. “Where’s Tremz? Thought you were surgically fused at this point.”

“Fu—” he cut off as Will leveled the captain stare at him. “Heck off. He’s in his medieval history class, he’ll be back soon.”

“Speak of the French-Canadian devil,” Percy shouted as Logan walked up the path to the house, backpack on his shoulders and snapback on his head—backwards, per usual. He looked good in the crimson Harvard Hockey hoodie he was wearing; Finn’s eyes caught the fraying at the cuffs and his stomach swooped as he realized it was his, that Logan must’ve swiped it this morning before heading out. 

“Bonjour,” Logan said, oblivious to the state of Finn’s internal organs.

“Bone-joor,” Percy replied before Finn could say it. “Very French of you. And shorts in October. Very Canadian of you.”

“We haven’t even had first frost yet.” Logan looked from Percy to Finn. “How much candy did you let him eat?”

“Too much,” Will answered for him. “Don’t you have class next, Marshy?”

After a complicated handshake with Finn that neared 15 seconds long, Percy grabbed his bag and took off at a slow jog. Finn wasn’t happy that he left, exactly, but he was happy that Logan walked around the table to take his spot right beside him.

“How’s that black plague treatin’ ya?” he asked as Logan slid his backpack off and under the table.

Logan’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Better than it’s treating medieval Europeans. But the reading is a little…”

He looked away—embarrassed, maybe, or frustrated. Finn knew he hated that English still tripped him up sometimes, though the amount he’d improved in just a few semesters was damn impressive. Finn kicked his shin lightly. “I got you. Would’ve flunked out last spring if it weren’t for you, so. Bring on the plagues.”

Logan kicked him back and sent him a grateful smile. And just because he couldn’t help it, Finn plucked at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“You left it on my chair,” Logan said, but Finn saw a little bit of color in his cheeks that he was pretty sure the afternoon chill didn’t put there.

It was a shoddy excuse, but so was Finn teasing him about it being “a little tight in the shoulders, Tremz, you gym beast” just so he could put a hand on one of those broad shoulders and squeeze. Logan was warm and so solid even through the layers; his hand lingered just a second too long before he let it fall away.

The next half hour passed quickly as trick-or-treaters came and went. The sun had just started to sink lower in the sky when a girl who couldn’t have been older than five or six walked up to the table, her guardian hanging back a ways. She had a hockey jersey on and was carrying her helmet, probably tired of wearing it around. 

She was closing in on Logan, who’d ended up on the opposite end of the long folding table as Finn at some point, when the big animatronic ghoul in front of the porch lurched and let out its tinny scream. The girl jumped, looking terrified, and tears filled her wide brown eyes.

“Oh,” Finn heard Logan say softly; his brow was knitted with concern as he walked quickly out from behind the table and crouched down in front of her. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

The girl didn’t say anything, just turned to look at her adult and then back at Logan. It seemed like she was trying not to run away.

Logan nodded at her jersey. “You play hockey?”

She nodded.

“Me too. All these guys are on my team. What’s your favorite position to play?”

That drew her out of her shell. “Goalie,” she said with a quiet confidence as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I see. You know what I know about goalies?” The girl shook her head, but clearly looked interested at whatever Logan was about to say. He leaned in like he was telling a secret, then said, “They’re the bravest ones. Also the craziest.”

Finn’s chest warmed at the way she laughed, at how Logan had gotten her from near-tears to happy and chatting in no time at all. He never got to see Logan with little kids; all their siblings were older. It was nice. It was sweet. It was doing things to Finn’s heart that he’d rather not think about.

In the end, the little girl—Harper, she told Logan as he filled her candy pail until it was overflowing, then filled her helmet, too—skipped away in a great mood. Logan was still smiling a little after they’d gone as Finn walked over to him.

“She was cute.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais.”

“You, too.” It was out of his mouth before he could shove it back in. Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “You were cute with her,” he explained—not that that really made it better.

But Logan looked pleased that he’d said so, even as he shrugged. “It’s not hard when they’re adorable. She said she’s a goalie.”

“Oh, so the skeleton thing should’ve been afraid of her.”

Logan laughed. “That’s kind of what I told her.”

Finn wanted to say so much. You’re cute all the time. You should only wear my hoodies. You’ll make a great dad someday. I want to share that someday with you.

Instead, he took Logan’s hat off and ruffled his hair. “Dinner?” he asked. “Burgers? Hog’s Head?”

Logan took his hat back and put it back on, but he wasn’t even pretending to be annoyed. “Ouais, let’s go now before they make us clean up.”

As they snuck off behind the house toward the pub, Finn took a handful of cherry jolly ranchers out of his pocket and put them in Logan’s. Logan laughed, then did the same for Finn with the watermelon ones. 

“Happy Halloween, Tremz.”

“Happy Halloween, Harzy.”

[tea-moon-ster]

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.”

[under-theweirwood]

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. 

[splendidlyinlove]

O’Knutzy Week Day 1!!!!!

I’m not late because I said so also time is a concept. A huge thank you to @oknutzyweek2023 for organizing this fest and to the lovely @lumosinlove for the creation of these characters!!! 

Day 1 Prompt: Smile 

CW for mentions of food/drink and depictions of internalized homophobia/negative self talk

When Logan was four years old smiles were as simple as breathing. He was all scraped knees and grubby fingers, trailing behind his three (which comes after two and before five…he thinks) older sisters. All he knew was dress up and pirates and that was enough for him.  

He had lost his first tooth last Tuesday, La Petite Souris had reimbursed him kindly with several shiny new coins. He had run down the stairs with them clasped in his hand and shouted “Look!” at his maman. His cheeks were round and rosy, indents from the pillowcase still stretching across them, and smiling so hard it almost hurt. There was still blue on his lips from where he had accidentally drawn on his mouth with a marker while rubbing his eye and his mouth made a faint whistling sound when he exhaled through his teeth. His maman smiled back. And that was how life worked at four. 

Smiling was a language like French or English. On humid summer days in France, he and his sisters would sit on sticky hardwood floors and sound out vowels through box fans. The giggles and smiles were I love yous, just with fewer syllables. His sisters forced him into dresses and called him gross, but it was okay. They smiled at him like he was theirs forever and he trusted them enough to know it was true. 

Smiles were opening presents on Christmas and jumping through the sprinkler outside. They were storytime and birthday cakes and good night kisses. They were stitched onto his favorite stuffed animals and frozen in time in pictures covering the wall on their stairway. 

One time he snuck out of bed to sit on the stairs and watch TV through the railing over the backs of his parents’ heads. The man on the TV looked sad and said a lot of big words. He didn’t smile much, he said something about life not making sense. Logan didn’t understand that. Living was about love and love was where home was and home was where he smiled most. 

There was a creak from behind him and when he turned around he saw Noelle smiling while holding her finger up to her mouth with a silent shh. Logan smiled back when she sat down next to him. Yeah, it all seemed pretty simple to him. 

___

At thirteen years old the world was not simple. It was messy and confusing, it was like someone had paint splattered across walls and asked him what the shapes spelled out. Logan didn't know, and they would smile. But not the smiles that he was used to, no, smiles were different now. 

Smiles could be sharp, pointed weapons. Looks shared between boys with letterman jackets across the halls, the ringing laughter after a slam against lockers. Dirty jokes, ego, us vs. them politics, mental gymnastics, I know you are but what am I?, thinly veiled insults, banter, and “locker room talk.” 

There was a sense of panic building up inside Logan that he couldn’t pinpoint. He smiled along, though he could feel it not reaching his eyes. Did they see it not reaching his eyes? Is his hair weird? His shirt feels too small, why’d he wear this today? Purple is a stupid color. Stupid. This is stupid. He’s stupid. 

He walked into his algebra class and sat down next to some boy he didn't recognize with a huff. 

“Bad day?” 

Logan’s head snapped to look at him. “Huh?” 

“I was just wondering if you were okay. You seem…grumpy.” 

And then the boy smiled at him. He smiled. 

His eyes crinkled up at the corners and the freckles on his cheeks stretched out. There was a light that seemed to shine outwards from his irises, his hair looked soft and his jaw was somewhere between round and angular. Logan wanted to reach out and touch, and why did his stomach feel like-? 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Smiles always had teeth, but they had never bitten until then. Logan didn't smile back, he clenched the feeling between his fists and made it as small as it could be. 

___

Finn was something impossible. He was a broken clock right three times a day, a city with no people, lightning in a bottle, a tsunami with no casualties, dressed in socks with Adidas slides and brown eyes that felt like a sacrament.  

He gave smiles away like old furniture. Here, you’ll get more use out of this than I will. He was unguarded and open and free and if Logan was honest Finn terrified him. Finn was the sun. Logan could already feel his eyes burning, he really should look away, but oh, didn’t it feel so good to be warm?  

Logan was cool green stares with walls miles high surrounding them. But, Finn was well equipped with inside jokes, memorized coffee orders, delirious late nights, no-look passes, adrenaline highs, and shared greasy breakfasts. Finn poked and prodded at the hard shell Logan had so carefully put together over four years. Slowly, piece by piece it wore down, floating like wilted flower petals to the floor. Logan could feel himself loosen, feel the tense muscles relax, his fists unclench. 

At seventeen, inside a rundown frat house, in their messy, poorly decorated room, Logan couldn't help himself. He smiled, but he swore it didn't mean I love you. It didn’t.  

___

Leo was simple. He was like thunder after lightning and the rainbow after a storm. He made sense, slotted into place like he always belonged. He was loud sort of quiet, he had a presence about him that you didn't realize how much room it encompassed until it wasn’t there. 

Leo let Logan talk. Just talk. And the best part is he would listen. Logan felt heard when Leo was around, Finn listened too but sometimes he didn’t understand. Maybe it was because, for Logan, English never seemed to be a good medium for explanation, it always seemed one size too small. Leo understood, though, both in English and French. Leo could read between the lines, sometimes Logan didn't have to say anything at all. And that, that was ecstasy in itself. Logan could get so tired of explaining, sometimes he just wanted to be. 

If Finn was the sun and Logan was the moon, then Leo was the night sky. Vast and all-consuming in a quiet sort of way, comforting like a blanket, pretty to look at. God, was he pretty to look at. 

In a hotel room in a city that Logan had visited several times but never got to know, Leo answered a knock on the door and brought in a tray. He picked a mug up off of it and handed it to Logan. 

“Here, I got you some mint tea.” 

Logan smiled. He couldn’t lie to himself this time, he knew it meant I love you. And didn’t that just make it all the more tragic? 

___

Smiles weren’t as simple as breathing, they were as simple as atoms. They made up everything around Logan and were everywhere. Logan would wake up and smile, eat breakfast and smile, pay taxes and smile. He would stay up late in the night with Leo, fighting with insomnia together and he would wake up sleep deprived and the happiest he's ever been.  Finn would come home from a run sweaty and hug him and it would be gross, and disgusting, and really, Logan should be screaming in terror but, against all odds there he was smiling. 

It was convoluted, but then again, it was the most understandable thing to ever happen. He was right when he was four, smiles meant I love you and there was so much love to give. In the dead of night, in the blazing afternoon, love was exchanged like playground, pinky-swear promises. Logan would keep every one. 

He had been planning it for months, he nearly wore a hole in the rug from the pacing back and forth. He sat in front of them on a blanket in the middle of a field and pushed two small velvet boxes toward each of them, along with letters that bared his soul. He had opted for letters instead of some big speech, he was terrified of not getting the words out right and of switching to French halfway through. Words had always been Finn’s department anyway. 

They both looked back up at him with tears in their eyes.

Logan smiled and said, “I love you.” 

They knew, of course they knew. Logan said it out loud anyway. 

___

The wedding was a summer affair, chairs were set outside by a big tree. Finn had put on sunscreen in preparation. 

“This is a setup” he had said. Logan and Leo had laughed so hard that they almost fell off the bed. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it.” It would have sounded serious if Finn wasn’t smiling, and he was smiling. 

After a coughing fit Leo gathered himself enough to say, “You don’t want to marry us outside, Finn?” 

Finn paused at that. He was still smiling but it changed into something soft yet sure, like faith. 

“I’d marry you anywhere and nowhere at all.” 

So it was settled. The wedding would be outside, and if Finn had more freckles on his nose during their honeymoon, it would be a burden Logan and Leo would gladly carry. However, the sunscreen turned out to be unnecessary. Dark clouds had rolled in and rain trickled down around them. 

It was perfect, unexpected, but perfect. Like a child, they loved the moment anyway. There was no world where it could be bad, because it was theirs, and it was them, and they were together, and wouldn’t that always be beautiful? 

They got married in the rain with wet hair in front of all of their friends and family. Their smiles said I do well before their mouths did, and though Leo and Logan would miss Finn’s extra freckles, it was a small sacrifice. 

___

The hospital room was white and smelled sterile. It was much different from the shade of pink that the guest bedroom in their house had been painted. 

Daughter. 

You’re having a daughter. 

Logan had been drowning in shades of pink for four months and he never wanted it to stop. He wanted tea parties, and race cars, and doll houses, and dress up, and pirates, and math homework, and sleepless nights, and play pretend. He wanted it all. He put all of his excited energy into planning the nursery and buying toys. Now, sitting between Finn and Leo in hospital room chairs, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He bounced his leg up and down and tapped his fingers on the armrest, Finn and Leo had grabbed his hands several times to get him to stop. 

Time seemed to stop when the door opened. A nurse walked in holding a bundle of blankets. 

“You ready to hold your baby girl?” 

Before Logan could process, the baby was placed into his arms. She was the tiniest thing he’d ever seen, with a button nose and round cheeks. She fussed a bit, her arms wiggling and feet kicking, and for a moment her eyes opened the smallest amount. 

Two pairs of green eyes met.

And Logan cried.

But mostly he just smiled. 

[xxxregulusblackxxx]

Anyone else want more Leo Knut and Regulus content? Like PLEASE there always said to be hanging out, show me them! We already know Regulus wears his jersey to games, show me them fake flirting in front of the team, show me Regulus having his gay realization one of those times and show me Remus picking up on it. Show me big Brother Remus Lupin to Regulus and show me Regulus having a breakdown over a crush that's forming show me him TRYING to distance himself from Leo but there so co dependent at that point he can't. Show me Logan realizing Regulus feelings and telling him it's okay and he gets it. Show me Regulus falling for the Cubs and them falling back but not saying anything to each till Logan says something to Finn and Leo. Show me Leo inviting Regulus over and confessioning then his other 2 confesse after and Regulus is so overwhelmed but it's good and show me Regulus just kissing Leo then kissing Finnlo.

OR Show be best friends Regulus and Leo. Show me Regulus ranting about Barty and possibly Evan to Leo and trying to decide if he wants to ask them out or not. Show me Regulus showing up at halftime to a game the Lions are losing and just saying to Leo. "My boyfriend's are here do better Knut. They can't be thinking my best friends is a loser" In his super sarcastic tone that he only uses with Leo and Rosekiller and then show me Leo getting super excited because "You asked them out?" And it just boosting his mood so much that it affects the whole team. Show me Regulus bringing his boys in saying "Good job you aren't all losers. Meet my boyfriends" Show me Sirius absolutely lose his mind because "what the fuck" and "Reggie you're gay?". Show me Leo smiling watching his best friend then coming up to Barty and Even and being super supportive but also threatening.

Look. I'm a multi shipper what do you want from me? I ship Jegulus too just not in the SW universe

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

o'knutzy week day 3: cookout

credit to @lumosinlove

@oknutzyweek2023 <3

team cookouts

remus, dumo (celeste), and leo are in charge of the main courses because they're voted best chefs

james and lily along with dorcas and marlene typically bring desserts

everyone else either brings drinks or snacks

sirius and regulus are always in charge of getting the alcohol (no one really knows why it just kinds happens)

there's lots of dancing and lots of karaoke 

lily and james DEMOLISH dancing queen

leo and reg are reigning champions of karaoke night with their killer queen

logan and remus always end up having too many drinks even though they swear they aren't drinking 

every cookout brings a new level of peace to everyone

a sense is family a majority of them have lacked

they're always held at dumo's house and more often than not most of the teams ends up sleeping over

either because they drank too much or simply because no one wants the night to end

they have these cookouts at the end of every month and for every holiday

[itsaash]

O'Knutzy Week! Prompts: Bucket hat & Summer Vacation

I'll be posting parts making up one story each day this week! It's a cubs au where Finn's spending the summer at his parent's house in the Hamptons and Leo is their private chef. yes, inspired by those amazing tiktoks. Logan will be revealed tomorrow 😏

Characters by @lumosinlove, for @oknutzyweek2023

Part 1

It was a day of full July heat, the kind of day that promises a summer full of sunshine, and you can already smell the sunscreen and salty air. Finn and Leo were sitting outside eating dinner, Leo had laid out a large wooden cutting board covered with the fixings to make world class sandwiches. He had arranged the meats, cheese, sourdough bread, fresh rolls, and chopped vegetables in a beautiful rainbow across the tray. It had been entirely too hot to even consider turning on an oven. 

As was their way on these long hot days of summer vacation in the Hamptons, Haley and Ramsey had eaten earlier, and then they spent most evenings at some friend’s or another, returning to the city most weekdays. Finn and Leo tended to eat together a bit later in the evening, so the temperature had blessedly gotten down a few degrees. Nevertheless, they sat in the garden under an umbrella, the shade surrounding them and the smell of the evening flowers beginning to fill the air. Finn always had a book (or ten) to work through editing and he had been spending his days moving with his laptop and piles of manuscripts from one place to another, working in every corner of the property as his attention ebbed and flowed. But on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, mysteriously the best work spots seemed to always be in sight of the kitchen. Those were the days Leo was there. 

Leo had been working for Finn's parents for a few years now, in the city and at the Hamptons house. But Finn had been away at school and he had only met Leo a few weeks ago when he came home for a summer in the Hamptons. Leo was tall, taller than Finn even, his hair a bleached golden blonde and sky blue eyes that reflected the summer sky. Today, despite the shade of the umbrella, Leo also had a bucket hat perched on his head, mostly blue, with designs of nebulas and stars and space decorating it. Just the ends of his blonde hair curled out the bottom of the hat, and Finn’s eyes darted from Leo’s eyes to those teases of hair and back again approximately every minute.

Having Leo around was both a motivation and a distraction for Finn. He lived for the time in the afternoon when Leo would sit down, taking a break after cleaning up lunch and before he needed to start making supper. Knowing that was basically the only time of the day that Leo would stop was quite an effective motivator for Finn. He would make sure that he had done as much as he could in the morning so he could coincidentally have those hours free too. They had gone for walks, sat in the shade and read together, or sometimes Finn pretended to do his work and really covertly watched Leo make his elaborate grocery lists. Because the food Leo made was nothing less than amazing. 

This Sunday night, Finn was finishing his turkey on sourdough, the tang of the bread combining perfectly with some sort of perfect sandwich sauce that Finn suspected Leo had made himself. The flowers were all in bloom and the trees were the bright green that they got after the spring rains. It was glorious. Finn felt a tether between his heart and this place, this property that he had been coming to since he was a kid. But there was something new growing in his heart too … and it seemed to bloom on the weekends. He doesn’t want it to end. They switched to a fruit pie with cream and sure the food was great, but it wasn’t only the call of his taste buds that prompted Finn to jump.

“Hey, um, Leo?”

“Mmm?”

“I know this is kind of weird, of course you can say no, you wouldn’t have to cook at all! But would you want to stay this week? We can just… hang out?”

Leo paused, gazing at the big brown eyes looking up at him so hopefully.

“Oh, um, that’s real nice of you Finn! But my … boyfriend is expecting me back in the city.” 

Finn’s heart skipped about three beats, then raced to catch up. Boyfriend! But, boyfriend.  

“Oh yeah! Of course!” There was a long pause as they took bites of their pie. Finn felt disappointment fill his belly even more than the food did. Of course Leo had a boyfriend, he was funny, and sweet, and so gorgeous. Even as beautiful as the property was, he didn’t relish week after week with nothing but his work to keep him company. 

“He could come too!”

“Really?” Leo looked up, seeming surprised. “That’s a very kind offer, you don’t have to do that.”

“No really, if you like him, he must be great. And it doesn’t have to be anything else. I just love having you around. I don’t like being alone all week and Alex is barely coming up this summer at all. So, next week, do you want to bring him, and you guys can stay? I promise you don’t have to cook a single thing.”

A smile blossomed over Leo’s face as Finn rambled at high speed. 

“Well, he is actually on summer holiday right now. He’s a teacher,” Leo said. 

Finn perked up. “Wow, that’s so amazing, that’s even better! What’s he teach? I’ll cook, I promise I’m not trying to get extra work out of you.”

“Mmmhhmm, and what do you usually eat during the week then, Finn?” Leo asked, and Finn knew he was caught. 

“Well, nothing like you make, obviously. But I couldn’t put you to work here during the week too.” 

Leo smiled. “Well, I’d be cooking for myself and working on new recipes at home anyways. I don’t mind making some for you too. But maybe I’ll let you do the cleaning up.”

Finn felt a prickle of excitement tingle under his skin. “I can clean up! Dishes, sweeping, I know where everything goes, I can do that.” They laughed, Finn glanced away at the line of trees in the distance. He was being too eager. He took a breath.

“Well I’ll have to ask Lo, but I’ll message you tomorrow what he says, OK? It really is such a nice offer. I know Lo would appreciate getting out of the city after a busy semester.” Finn nodded eagerly. Lo and Leo. He wanted to spend the summer out here, but most of his friends were in the city. But next week he could have Leo and Lo in his house. He smiled to himself, trying to keep his excitement in check. They finished their sandwiches as the evening melded into the perfect temperature. Finn showed he could be true to his word by helping Leo clean up, happy for the chance to talk, and to plan and hope for what they could do next weekend.

[awanderingdeal]

Hello folks! It looks like I will be hosting O'Knutzy week 2023!

We love all forms of fan art over here so anything would be welcome - fics, headcanons, drawings, poetry etc...

I do need some help though with prompts (although can always use a generator if needed!). If you have any ideas send me a message by Sunday (preferably by like midday BST). I know it's soon, but I'd like to give everybody as much time as possible to create.

TLDR; message me with ideas for o'knutzy week prompts please. Deadline: Sunday 2nd July, 12 noon BST.

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

So I've taken to writing snippets apparently, but I'm counting it as a win because I haven't been writing much lately. Here for the first day of fic-o-ween and in just under the wire we have day 1! Big thanks to @noots-fic-fests for hosting and the adorable headers, as always! I'm already devouring the fics popping up on my dash, I'd been craving some more SW verse content recently.

Anyway,, without further ado, some cubs...

“It’s here!” Finn yelled as he let himself back into the warm apartment after his morning run. His cheeks were bright pink from the chill in the air and his hair was askew as he slipped off his running shoes and wandered into the kitchen for kisses before his shower.

“What’s here?” Logan asked, grumpy this early in the morning but awake and standing far too close to Leo to be polite.

“Christmas!” Finn said excitedly.

“Rouge, non. Ce n’est pas Noël…” Logan groaned, huddling closer to Leo.

Leo hugged Logan close and Leaned in to kiss Finn as he approached. “It isn’t even Halloween yet, why is Christmas here? What does that even mean?”

Finn kisses Leo before he explains his thinking, “It MEANS there’s the first frost on the ground which means snow is soon which means it’s practically Christmas!” He leans down to kiss Logan slow and sweet.

“That’s not how that works, Harz, but good try,” Leo said, passing off Logan into Finn’s arms so he could turn to the stove to start on breakfast. “Take Logan with you, he can help get you warm in the shower and I’ll have this ready by the time you two finish. Sound good?”

“Parfait?” Finn said tentatively, pronunciation a little off but his French was getting better.

“Oui, allez,” Logan grumbled, tugging Finn in the direction of their bedroom and the warm shower that would await them.

[floralflorence]

POV: Leo and Reg sneak off during a party. (Purely self-indulgent smut - sorry not sorry.)

Minors DNI :)

"Hey, handsome." Leo jumped slightly at the arms suddenly wrapping around his waist, almost spilling the coke he was adding to Logan's drink. He put the bottle down, deftly screwing the lid back on before turning, leaning his lower back against the counter.

"You scared me," Leo laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"Désole, Peanut. Could I maybe...make it up to you?" Reg drawled in a low whisper, pushing up onto his tiptoes to kiss him slowly, balancing using a hand on Leo's torso. With a surprised hum at the intensity, Leo cupped Reg's cheek to pull him in closer, another hand coming to support the small of his back.

"Knutty, if we could remember that's my little brother, that'd be great," Sirius called from the doorway of the kitchen, his voice carrying over the noise of the team party in the Cubs' living room. Leo just stuck a thumb up behind Reg's back before slipping his hand around to the back of his head, tugging him in as he slipped his tongue into his mouth. They pulled away with a wet sound, Leo stroking a thumb across Reg's bottom lip.

"You're forgiven," he mumbled, surprised, grinning when Reg laughed loudly.

"You're banned from wearing these shirts when you're party hosting," Reg replied indignantly, wrapping his arms around Leo's neck.

After glancing down at his shirt, which really would have just been a normal shirt if it wasn't for the obscenely tight fit. "Oh really? Why's that, hm?"

"Because you're a good host and won't agree to disappear upstairs with me," he pouted back.

Leo debated for a minute before leaning down and pressing a kiss just below Reg's ear, whispering into it softly.

"You know, there are two more hosts. No one would miss us if we slipped into the bathroom for a few minutes."

Reg pulled back to look him in the eyes for a moment. "You better be serious about that," he mumbled, sliding his hand slowly down Leo's torso after a quick look back at the doorway. Leo's eyes fluttered when Reg cupped him through his jeans, adding slight amounts of pressure as he groaned.

"Bathroom. Allez."

Doing a terrible job of not looking too proud of himself, Reg tangled his fingers with Leo's, tugging him along behind him. "Shit - one sec," Leo said, grabbing Logan's cup from the counter and sprinting into the living room to give it to him, that being the whole reason he was in the kitchen in the first place. Reg hovered by the door to the downstairs bathroom, trying to look inconspicuous. He had to stifle a laugh behind his hand as he watched Kasey desperately try and focus on the conversation he was having with Celeste and Logan. His main distraction came in the form of Alex, stood next to him talking with Finn and Dumo, tracing and raking his nails up and down Kasey's arm mindlessly.

"Hey, change your mind?" Leo swam into view suddenly, a smirk playing on his features.

"With you looking like that? I don't think so." They slipped silently into the bathroom, Reg rising up onto his toes to cup both sides of his neck and pull him down to kiss him.

"Tu es si joli," Leo breathed between kisses, his hands running down the strong planes of Reg's back to his ass, kneading the flesh roughly in his palms.

"Show me then." Leo slipped his grip slightly lower, holding the backs of his thighs and lifting him, pressing his back up against the door of the bathroom as his kisses trailed down to his neck. Reg's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging harshly as Leo's teeth nipped and marked along his skin. "Fuck me, baby."

He felt Leo grin wolfishly against his neck before he paused. "Fuck. We don't have lube in here."

"Don't need it."

Leo pulled away, looking up at Reg with a faux-annoyed look. "Fucking knew you and Tremz took too long to get ready."

"You try being in the same room as Lo while he's half-naked and see if you're not bending him over the nearest flat surface," Reg rebutted, giving him a knowing look.

"I'm guessing it didn't take much persuading for you to let him bend you over either," Leo whispered.

Reg hummed, shrugging noncommittally before tightening his legs around Leo's waist. "You three can be very persuasive when you want to be. Lucky for you there's no persuasion necessary today, I'm in the mood to be railed in a bathroom." Reg leaned forwards and sucked Leo's bottom lip into his mouth, laving his tongue along it and digging his teeth in before letting it spring back. Seemingly the last straw for Leo, he dropped his grip on the back of Reg's legs, lowering him gently to the floor before placing a palm between his shoulder blades pushing until he got the message and bent over the marble counter of the sink.

The coolness of it made Reg's breath catch before a moan slipped from his lips as Leo tugged down his waistband until it hooked under his ass. Leo groaned softly when his hard cock finally slipped from the tight confines of his jeans, slicking himself up slightly with spit, checking in with Reg quickly then pressing his tip against the still lube-slick ring of muscle.

''Dieu, how are you still so tight after taking Lo.''

'''S that a complaint I hear there, Knut?''

Leo huffed out a laugh that trailed into a moan when he bottomed out in him, his hips stilling as his eyes fluttered. The only thing stopping them from closing entirely was Reg's reflection in the mirror, his cheek pressed against the marble but tilted up to the mirror still as his brows pinched in the centre.

''I thought I specified that I was in the mood to be railed, non?'' Reg's voice sassed even as his grip was tight on the edge of the surface. Always one to give his boys whatever they asked him for, Leo took that idea and rolled with it. He pulled out and pushed back in once, making sure Reg's expression didn't waver with pain. It didn't.

His hand, that had moved back to rest between Reg's shoulder blades slid up to wrap over top of his shoulder, holding him there as he began pumping his hips furiously, biting his lip, well aware there was family right on the other side of the door. After pushing up to rest his elbows on the counter, Reg made eye contact with him in the mirror, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded as he already looked fucked out. He seemed to be struggling with this despite trying his hardest to keep his noises down. Moving quickly, Leo moved his hand again to wrap around and cover his mouth, surprised when Reg's eyes rolled back and he moaned loudly into his hand. Not being able to help being proud of himself, Leo went harder, hoping the sounds of their hips meeting weren't too loud but honestly not really overly caring when his boyfriend was moaning like that because of him.

When Leo's hips shifted as he shuffled his feet so he was more stable, he grinned and focused his thrusts more when Reg's hand shot out for something to grab but didn't find anything that wasn't flat surface; meaning his ended up with one hand gripping Leo's wrist tightly, the other pressed palm-flat against the mirror, his legs trembling. His moans were getting more and more discernible the more Leo's tip pounded against his prostate, making Leo lean down to mumble in his ear, his lips brushing the shell of it, his voice deep and hoarse while he made dead eye contact with him in mirrored surface.

''Gotta be quiet, remember? Can't have Cap knowing his baby brother's too needy for cock to wait a few hours.'' Leo broke off with a deep groan as Reg's walls tightened around him. ''Such a little slut, turning me on in the kitchen where everyone can see. Did you want me to just bend you over the counter right there? Hold my hand over your mouth to keep you quiet for me and fuck you in the corner of the room where anyone could walk in, hm? Voudrais-tu ça, mon coeur?'' Reg nodded as best he could, whimpering while a tear slowly slid down his cheek, Leo's thumb unconsciously swiping it away.

'''M gonna cum,'' Reg's muffled voice came from behind his hand.

''I know - I can feel you fucking milking me, sweetheart,'' Leo teased him, a cocky smirk on his face.

Reg resisted the urge to roll his eyes - this man and his fucking ego sometimes. Although, he supposed it was only annoying because he was right. Leo had a lot of skills but he had a few things he was an outright expert at (this being one of them) and Leo knew exactly what they were.

He could tell that Leo was getting close too, the hand that had been gripping the counter to keep himself steady moving to hold desperately onto Reg's hip.

''Shit, you take it so well. Take me just like that for me, darlin'. Cum for me, baby, c'mon,'' Leo encouraged when Reg mumbled senselessly, his eyes fighting not to roll back. With his grip on Leo's wrist tightening almost painfully, Reg came with a shudder and high-pitched whine, breathy moans slipping through Leo's fingers as he rode it out with Leo's still-moving hips. His walls flexing around him made Leo groan, deep and long in his ear. ''You're gonna make me cum. God, I love you,'' he mumbled, tucking his face into Reg's neck, hips stilling as he went completely silent.

They caught their breaths for a minute, Leo staying with his forehead in his neck, Reg leaning heavily on his elbows. ''You think people have noticed we disappeared yet?'' Reg spoke; his tone was joking and tired.

With an equally exhausted laugh, Leo propped his chin on his shoulder and smiled at him in the mirror. ''I really fucking hope not.'' He gently cleaned up the cum that had dripped down Reg's thighs and tugged his boxers and trousers back up his legs with a small pat to his hips before doing the same to himself. ''Bon?''

''Parfait,'' Reg smiled, turning to wrap his arms around Leo's neck, leaning his body weight against his chest. ''Kiss.''

Complying, Leo scattered soft kisses to his lips. ''D'accord, allez.'' Reg slipped out before him, the two desperately trying to look like they hadn't just fucked. Leo met Logan's eye where he was leant back against Finn's chest, the pair talking with Alex and Nat - Kasey was there too, just not talking, more than content in his quite tipsy state to just remained tucked under Alex's arm with Nat stroking mindless circles on his lower back. Logan's greeting smile quickly turned into a look of mock-betrayal as he nudged Finn and nodded over to them. ''I think we've been discovered,'' Reg whispered to him.

Leo's arms snaked around his waist, his nose brushing the hair that curled above Reg's ear. ''Feel like teasing them?''

''Always,'' he answered immediately. He let Leo turn him in his arms, smiling when he slid his hands down to grip handfuls of his ass and pull him into him. Capturing Reg's lips in a sensual kiss full of tongue, Leo flicked his eyes over Reg's shoulder and looked at Logan first, then at Finn. He closed his eyes and slipped a hand up the prominent line of Reg's spine to cup the back of his head, guiding him to tilt it to deepen the kiss.

''Nutty! My brother!'' Sirius' voice echoed, trying to sound mad but breaking out into laughs when everyone else did too at his bantering.

He pulled away, heading over to join their boyfriends.

''Remind me to use the upstairs bathroom,'' Alex faux-whispered to Nat, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Leo tried sputtering an excuse before he gave up, seeing even Reg look up at him with a grin that told him there was no chance they'd believe him.

In the end, Leo just shrugged. ''He's hot.'' The small group burst out laughing at the relatable statement before falling back to whatever they were talking about before.

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

June part ii

Maybe Finn couldn’t play, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t gift himself fifteen minutes of watching Leo lay out on the mat and use a foam roller to stretch out his back.

“What you think you’re staring at?” Leo had his eyes closed, back arched over the roller, hands above his head. He’d turned the lights off for Finn’s sake.

“I don’t know, I think I might have a crush on you,” Finn said.

Leo laughed, a little out of breath as he bent his knees to moved the roller up near his shoulders. “Oh really?”

“Yep.” Finn adjusted his sling against his neck. “Pretty sure.”

“I thought you liked that Tremblay guy.”

“Who?”

Leo smiled and reached blinding for a resistance band to throw at him. “Stop your flirting. I’m trying to focus.”

Finn just rested his head back against the wall and grinned.

He should be more nervous. Game seven, enemy crowd, their entire season on the line. But it was different, being hurt and watching everyone else out on the ice. Something had gotten tangled, some tethers had twisted wrong, and suddenly there was a pane of glass between him and the game.

“Sorry,” Finn said. “Let me just reel in my adoration.”

Leo hummed and kept his eyes closed. He let out a breath when the roller hit a knot near his shoulder and kept it there, pressing down.

Finn let himself close his eyes for a few moments, too. He wasn’t sure when he would get the chance again without it looking, to any camera, like he’d fallen asleep watching the game. He could see the Instagram posts now, the tweets.

“Fish.”

“Yeah?”

He opened his eyes when Leo didn’t reply. Leo was staring up at the ceiling. The foam roller had become more of a neck pillow now and his hands were folded across the Lions logo on his sweatshirt.

“I’m scared,” Leo said softly.

Finn sat up. He looked hard in the dim room at Leo’s expression, but it wasn’t changing. He appeared calm. As calm as his voice sounded. These words—I’m scared—didn’t even sound small in his mouth. Finn would never have admitted to fear so easily, so cleanly. He—and Logan, he suspected—would have never let those words free on a day like today.

Finn pushed himself up from the wall and knelt across the mat until they were laying side by side on their backs. Leo ditched the roller and pushed their shoulders together.

“I don’t want it to be Logan,” Leo whispered. “I don’t want it to be Logan who gets through.”

Believe me, Finn thought to himself. I know.

“Who says anyone will?” he said aloud.

“Finn…”

“You’re so, so good, Le.”

“I—yes. I’m good but…”

“I know that doesn’t make Logan easier.”

Leo hesitated for a moment. “I almost thought it would be easier if we weren’t…if we weren’t on the best terms when this game happened. After the stuff about you and everything. I thought—I think maybe that’s why I was okay leaving without saying goodbye to him. Maybe part of me thought it would make this not so awful.”

And it was awful. They’d been trying not to call it that—who wanted to call reality awful?—but they missed Logan like air. And Finn, despite the concussion being minor, had been as terrified as everyone around him. And Jack had put pressure on them like an ocean current.

Finn watched the way one of the ceiling lights flickered. “Only Lo is one of the sweetest creatures.”

“Exactly.”

“God, he’s so nice to you, what a dick.”

Leo laughed and slapped him in the chest, avoiding his sling. Finn turned his head and found them nose to nose. He smiled at Leo’s smile and brushed the tips of their noses together.

“For the record, I think you’d be a truly insane person, not just a crazy goalie, if you weren’t nervous for a game seven.” He reached out his good hand and Leo put his own into it. “But you’ve done it before, baby. You’ve won it before.”

Leo nodded. His eyes darted around Finn’s face, as they sometimes did.

“Yes, I do have freckles, thanks for noticing.”

Leo laughed again and, with a groan, rolled into Finn’s side.

“Floor snuggles in the gym.”

Leo nodded closing his eyes. “Just for a second.”

Finn placed a kiss in Leo’s hair. “Wish I could have your back tonight. I really do.”

Leo picked his head up, hand on the lapel of Finn’s game-day suit. “You do. You always do. And you’re wearing the tie I bought you.”

“I am.”

“And you do look very nice in your suit.”

“Thanks, Butter.”

Leo groaned as he pushed himself to his knees, like he didn’t want to get up. “C’mere. Let me kiss your head Finn O’Hara.”

Finn laughed as Leo put his palms on each of Finn’s temples and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Why did you say my name like that?”

Leo bent farther and kissed Finn’s mouth quick. “Cause I got a wicked crush on you.”

The soft sound that came out of Finn’s mouth was was not one he recognized, somewhere between a laugh and a hum. 

“Text me when you find Logan,” Leo said as he rose, then ducked out of the room to jog a few laps around the arena. Finn let himself lay on the floor for a moment, smiling, before getting up, too.

So, it wasn’t all bad, being with the team but not having to get ready for the game. He and Kasey sat in their stalls anyway, suits and all, and watched the locker room chaos. Sirius barely said a word to anyone besides Remus whenever he passed him by. He was locked in, and that sight was almost comforting. Finn could tell that it made the rest of the room feel more ready, too.

They had called up a kid named Hugo Holm as Leo’s back-up, and he looked like he was thinking about making a run for it. Leo didn’t seem to mind. He was being his usual, friendly self, but Finn could tell he was proud that he was the one keeping his cool.

Finn wandered around, too—he never could be still for long. MSG had interesting plaques on the walls. Famous concerts, famous athletes, and other celebrities who had made history there. He was stopped a few times by press, and once by Marlene who gave him his pass up to the players and families box to watch the game, but other than that, he kept his mind clear.

And looked for Logan.

He found Luke first. He was coming in from sitting out on the bench in his sweatpants and sweatshirt, blue-on-blue, and looked surprised to see Finn walking towards him.

Finn put his hands up. “I know, I know. Enemy territory. Just boyfriend-seeking.”

“It’s all good.” Luke took both of his AirPods out. “He’s probably—”

“About to sharpen his skates,” Finn said. Maybe he felt a little flare of competition. Luke was a good line-mate for Logan. He was. But he wasn’t Finn. “It’s that time of the evening.”

“Right.” Luke nodded. “You’d know.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, how’s the head?”

“Fine, thanks,” Finn said. “Third time’s a charm, right?”

Luke winced.

“Sorry.” Finn laughed. “That was supposed to be a joke.” He flexed his fingers on his sling side. “It’s really just this that needs to heal up, so. But at least I can take the sling off more now. Itches.”

“Right.”

This was awkward. This shouldn’t be so awkward. Finn wasn’t awkward, and yet here he and Luke Deveaux were, sizing each other up like they were on the ice.

“Well, glad about the head,” Luke said. He had ducked his chin a little and was fiddling with his phone in a way that, Finn realized, reminded him of Logan. “Um—”

“Thanks,” Finn heard himself blurt out.

Luke’s eyes darted back to his. “What? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Finn shouldn’t feel competitive. He’d never thought of himself as jealous, but maybe that only applied to Leo.

“No, I mean…Thanks for Logan.”

Luke tilted his head. “What do you…”

“I mean, look, the trade was really…” Finn didn’t stumble over his words. Usually. Something about Luke’s intense steady gaze made him do that now, though. It was like trying to gauge Logan, in the early days at school. Trying to read what he was thinking. Finn took another breath. “It was hard. I’m just trying to say you sound really great. And he talks about you a lot. And I’m glad he has you. You know. Over on the dark side that is not Gryffindor.”

Luke had looked vaguely uncomfortable under the praise, but he cracked a smile. “The dark side, huh?”

“I said what I said.”

Luke smiled more fully and ducked his head again. “Well, that dark side’s gonna beat you thanks to your boyfriend—among other things.”

“We’ll see.”

Just then, Logan appeared from the Rangers locker room, on his way to the equipment room with his skates. He was wearing a backwards blue hat and a tight, gray undershirt that outlined every single muscle in his chest and stomach. He had a piece of rainbow sour strip candy dangling half out of his mouth.

Finn rubbed a hand against his jaw, trying to hide at least some of the shameless expression Luke must’ve seen on his face because he turned to look.

Logan did a double take, then broke into a grin.

“Un intrus,” Logan called around the candy.

“Whatever you say, 71,” Finn replied.

“Sirius, send happy emoji!” Logan shouted back, and Finn extended his slinged hand’s middle finger as he walked towards him.

He turned back to look at Luke. “Good game.”

Luke had a funny expression on his face, but he covered it with a brief smile. “He called you an intruder, by the way.”

“Oh, I bet he calls me all sorts of things.”

Luke just scoffed and put his headphones back in.

Finn didn’t see Logan as he entered the equipment room—he was typing out a quick text to Leo—until two hands grabbed his suit jacket and pushed him—gently, mindfully—up against the wall by the door.

“Wow,” Finn said, looking down into Logan’s green eyes. The candy was gone. “Hello there.”

“Stupid sling,” Logan said.

“I agree.”

Logan had deposited his skates near the sharpener and had his fingers in Finn’s hair, combing it back at the sides. “You come looking for me?”

“No, I wanted to get Luke to sign my chest.”

Logan made a face. “Shut up.” Then he kissed him. Sour-sweet. Finn let Logan take away the tension in his neck and jaw.

His green eyes were happy when he pulled back, if not a little tense. He was thinking about the game. He was still stroking Finn’s hair like he was trying to distract himself.

“You okay?” Finn asked softly, rubbing a hand down his side. Logan’s finger caught a slight knot and when Finn winced Logan switched to petting his good shoulder.

Logan pressed his lips together in a gesture that reminded Finn of Noelle. “Did you already text Leo?”

“You’re petting me like a dog.”

“You like it.”

“Well, damn, truce.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry,” Finn said. “I can’t hear anything over your abs.”

Logan pinched his side. “Shh.”

“Of course I texted Leo. Did you hear what I said?”

Logan was frowning like he was working up the courage to answer Finn’s question, when his eyes caught on something in the hallway.

“Le,” he called. “In here.”

Leo poked his head in. “Oh. Fuck, I almost just walked into your locker room. That would have been terrible.”

“Luke said he’d sign my chest,” Finn said. “Bet he’d do yours, too.”

Leo’s eyes turned bewildered. “Excuse me?”

Logan slapped a hand over Finn’s mouth. “He’s stupid.”

The hand went back to combing through Finn’s hair seemingly against Logan’s will.

Leo just shook his head, smiling, and leaned against the wall beside Finn. “You know, Lo, we technically outnumber you. You should be the one in enemy territory.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Knut speaks the truth. The Knuth.” Leo’s eyes turned imploring. “Sorry, this is my first time outside in a while.”

Logan spread his hands. “You could have texted me! I was just here and—Finn appeared!”

Finn clicked his tongue. “You know, I felt a little more welcomed when I was being pushed up against the wall.”

Leo laughed. He reached out a hand and pulled Logan to him in one smooth motion. Finn liked watching them always, but especially lately. They had to be so careful with him just now and he liked seeing the easier, more reckless touches.

I’m scared, Leo had said. Finn saw it still in the way he arched his neck down to press his forehead against Logan’s. Logan must have felt it, because his green eyes looked at Leo’s shut ones for a long moment, before closing, too.

“I hate this,” Leo whispered. Finn put a hand low on his back.

“Je sais,” Logan replied, so softly that Finn’s chest hurt. “Me too.”

Finn held himself back. He knew this was between the two of them.

“One of us keeps going, or not.” Logan’s voice was low and sweet. “Still get to come home to you.” Then he said, even more quietly, what Finn had been someone shamefully feeling. “I almost don’t care about anything else but another summer with you two.”

It made Leo let out a surprised laugh, and Logan smiled, pleased with himself.

“Almost, I said.”

Finn had to leave them to it eventually. He made his way up to the box and narrowed in on Natalie and Noelle with their elbows on the railing. They each wore their half Gryffindor, half New York jerseys and had cold plastic cups of beer in their hands. Finn wrapped his good arm around Noelle’s shoulders in lieu of announcing himself.

“Hey Harz,” Noelle smiled.

Finn had always liked the way she looked at him—well, not always. There were those few summers, and that awful period of being a Lion with Logan but not being Logan’s. Noelle hadn’t glared at him, exactly, but she hadn’t not glared at him, either. It had been a soft, pitying sort of glare. A get your shit together sort of glare.

Now, she wrapped a hand around his waist. “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I mean, my boyfriends are about to go head-to-head in the most important game of the season, but I’m super.”

“Don’t use the phrase head-to-head,” Natalie said with a wave of her manicured hand—red and blue. “It’s too on the nose for you.”

Finn snorted. “Very funny.”

In truth, he’d probably have to take a little break from the lights at some point. At least, those were some of his instructions. At least his shoulder didn’t hurt. He sighed and went to the bar to get a water, giving Julian Lupin’s hair a tussle along the way. Was this really how he thought of his life now? In terms of it could be worse?

He hoped not.

New York’s lights went down with a down-spiral, bass-filled sound. The players below became silhouettes. Blue or red—they looked surprisingly similar in the semi-darkness. Both faded into something like purple. Finn leaned his good forearm on the railing beside the girls and resigned himself to being able to do nothing but watch.

~

Sirius did everything he usually did. The pull, the need to not mess up made everything feel like a mess up in itself. He didn’t like the hum of the New York crowd. They shouldn’t have sounded so sure of themselves, not in the murmur of so many voices, not in the twang of their feet against the stadium stairs.

When the lights went down and some opera singer was announced to sing the anthem, they shouted out for their team over the lyrics like the fate of this game was unavoidable. Unstoppable. He could see many red jerseys that had made the trip to New York, but not enough to compete against the let’s go Rangers chants.

He would win the first face-off. He would set them up right. He wouldn’t think about the fact that they didn’t have Kasey or Finn. He caught a flash of sandy hair before being shaken out before it was covered by a number six helmet.

He had Remus.

A number seven jersey was talking a mile a minute at Alex O’Hara from one still dark bench to the other.

He had James.

If MSG did one thing right, it was the a pump-up. Lasers, blue and red, danced over the ice. It flashed against his gloves, momentarily making the black take on a blue-ish tinge that felt like a stain. He tucked his gloves closer to the red of his jersey, as if he could fight off the blue, and looked up towards the Lions’ box. He couldn’t see much, but he knew Regulus was up there. Remus’ family, too. Julian.

He knew it was just a cup made of silver. It didn’t do anyone much good. It was heavy and bulky and merely a representation of something, not a real…thing. It wasn’t victory, he just thought of winning when he thought of the cup. But he still wanted to win it for them. Regulus, Hope, Lyall, Julian. Remus. James. Leo. Finn and Kasey. Logan.

Himself. Even himself. That was new. Remus caught his eye and gave a firm nod. He wanted a lot of things for himself it turned out. That had taken the place of the nervous, horrifying need to win it for his parents.

Alex got kicked out of the opening face-off, much to the crowd’s outrage, and suddenly Sirius was face-to-face with Logan.

Sirius sighed. “It’s you. Hi.”

Logan smiled. “Are we really speaking English right now?”

Sirius just smiled.

“Well,” the referee said. “I guess I don’t have to tell you two to keep it clean.”

He dropped the puck.

Sirius knew James and Remus would fan out behind him if he won it—and win it he did. He could imagine them back there, the beautiful curves of their skates as they pushed backwards. He sent it right onto Remus’ blade, felt it snap there like magnetism. There was no time to look and watch, only to get into position—or, well, this was Remus he was talking about. There was no time to look and watch, only to try and keep up with him. He pushed forward hard as Remus evaded Logan. Sirius hit his stick on the ice and Remus snapped it back to him. Sirius tried not to take a breath as he brought his stick back—

The puck went right past Saint’s shoulder.

Sirius tipped his head back and closed his eyes briefly at the muted roar that followed. Thank you, he thought. Thank you.

He swooped his skates to the side, his feet knowing where the boards curved all on their own, and opened his arms for Remus. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe he was just in love, but he ducked down, visors clashing, and kissed Remus’ grin.

He wanted that photograph on the front page of every newspaper in the entire world, and he wanted a copy of each one.

~

Finn got a little choked up, watching that replay. The goal was in the first minute. The goal was just one goal. The kiss was everything.

Noelle rested her head on his shoulder briefly, and then put a hand on one of his cheeks and kissed the other.

~

Remus looked so surprised, and not so surprised. Sirius just let Thomas and James crash into the embrace and listened to his heart in his ears.

“All I gotta know,” James shouted right in his ear. “Is if that’s a new team superstition!”

Sirius just laughed, and James knocked their helmets together. He didn’t take his eyes off of Remus, who was still smiling, delighted. Remus brought his glove up and gave Sirius’ helmet a little shake. I love you, it said.

The first period stayed like that. Miraculously. Strangely. So unusual for the play-offs. Sirius didn’t feel any momentum shifts. The goal, gorgeous and quick as it had been, felt almost non-existent. It could hardly be called a lead and they were all playing like they had everything to lose—which they did.

The hits got worse, too. Kota had taken Logan out against the boards twice. Sirius wasn’t upset at Kota…both times had led to amazing chances on goal. Neither James or Thomas had been able to finish the job. But Sirius was worried. He knew Logan. He could tell Logan was doing his best not to respond in the way he usually would. All bite.

The whistle went for off-sides and Sirius saw Saint pull Logan into the blue paint by his jersey.

~

“Take the fucking mittens off, Tremblay,” Saint snapped at him. His blocker dug uncomfortably into Logan’s shoulder from Saint’s hold on him. Saint’s eyes were wild behind his mask. “I swear to fucking God. Forget them. You have to forget them right fucking now.”

Logan felt sweat dripping into his mouth. Leo. LeoLeo. “I’m trying to keep it a clean game.”

Saint made a disgusted sound and let go.

“Seb.” Luke skated up beside Logan. He had a slight cut on his upper cheek from a high stick. “We got you. It’s all right.”

“I don’t feel got.” Saint pushed his mask up for water as the referee called them to the circle.

Logan clenched his jaw and turned away.

“He just wants this,” Luke said, staying close to his shoulder.

“We all want this.”

“Saint wants it more.” When Logan looked at him, ready to brush that off as bullshit, Luke’s face, the green fleck bright in his brown eyes, was serious. “Saint wants everything more.”

“More than you?”

It occurred to Logan that there were different ways Luke could take that question. Luke didn’t answer any of them.

“Remember,” Luke said softly to him. “If I can, I’ll take the shot.”

The rest of the sentence was left unsaid. Luke turned away and put his mouth guard back in. He tapped Alex’s calf encouragingly as he got ready to face-off.

If I can’t, you have to. You have to.

~

Leo took some water, then squirted some down the back of his neck. He looked up at the clock. He looked up at the crowd and wished he could find Finn. Logan hadn’t looked at him yet while on the ice, which was probably a good thing. Leo couldn’t handle that green right now. It still took him a moment to recognize the 71 on his jersey.

No breakaways yet, which was something at least. He liked their defense. He didn’t feel that jump in his muscles whenever the puck crossed the blue line like he sometimes did. There was trust in this game, and Leo needed to lean on that now more than ever.

Alex raced towards him after puck drop, the rubber disk on his stick.

Leo watched. That was so much of what he did. Watch. That little black dot. He curled his fingers tight inside his glove and blocker and stayed low, following Alex’s feet, then Logan’s, then Luke’s. Where their feet pointed, they would shoot. It was like the tell that magazines wrote about attraction. The feet went where the person wanted to go.

Logan’s feet were pointed right at him, the hard toes of his skates pushing hard and outpacing Kota—but only just. Leo could have predicted that Kota would steal that puck from Logan, poking it out of his control with his longer reach.

Leo saw Logan’s face tense as he easily swung himself back around, his and Kota’s sticks clashing. Kota had been going hard on Logan tonight, but cleanly, and Leo knew Logan was used to it. He liked it, putting pressure on his opponents and receiving pressure in return. That didn’t mean Leo liked standing there with nothing to do but watch as Logan took a hit from some one who, in Leo’s mind, still looked like Logan’s own teammate. Red. Logan should’ve been in red right now.

The puck went back to Alex around the center line, and Leo watched for off sides, ready to raise his glove in protest, but Alex pulled it off clean. The ref spread his arms to signal it to the rest of the ice. Luke was waiting for Alex, holding his own against Thomas. He acted quickly. No sooner had he caught Alex’s pass as he raced up the ice than did he send it cross-ice to Logan—probably meant to make Leo have to stay up on his feet. Leo knew Logan. If Logan kept it—and he might—he’d stay back. He’d shoot from farther away. Leo edged a little farther out of the blue paint in front of the goal. When Logan passed it back to Luke, he sank back in, the posts coming into the edges of his vision. Luke was about to pass it back, Leo watched his feet, but no sooner had the puck begun its track across the ice than did Kota slam into Logan in a mid-ice hit. Clean. Clean, Leo reminded himself as his heart jolted with fear. No contact above Logan’s shoulders. That didn’t mean it didn’t make him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

The crowd roared again, and then louder when Logan pushed back up to his feet. He looked at Kota and Kota looked at him. Logan said something that had a snarl to it and Leo thought, this is the person who took your place.

They dropped their gloves at the same time.

“Lord,” Leo breathed to himself.

He pushed up and out of position, but kept his mask on. When Logan was fighting, the mask let him watch in private. Kota knocked off Logan’s helmet almost as soon as Logan knocked off his. His dark hair was sweaty and curling, and his fists looked strong as he made a grab for Kota’s jersey and latched on.

“Lo…” Leo whispered to himself. Kota had a good head over Logan, but Logan had him on his back in a headlock in five seconds. Easy. He snarled something else and then got up and skated to the box without any prompting from the timid looking referee. Madison Square Garden was on its feet, and they were about to play their first four on four of the night.

~

They were still 1-0 Lions as Sirius waited by the door for everyone to file off the ice at the first intermission. Remus came to him last, and Sirius was sure there were about four TV cameras on them, but Remus didn’t even try to hide his smile, or his laugh, happy and tumbling.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked, grinning back.

“Oh. I just wish we had been in a home crowd for that.”

“Don’t worry,” he said as he followed Remus off the ice. He reached up to brush his glove against the hands of a few screaming Lions fans. “We will be.”

Leo was pulled out of the line for the first intermission interview, and Sirius, upon seeing Kasey leaning against the side of the doorway to watch, decided to stop, too.

“How’s the kid?” Sirius asked, even though Leo hardly felt like the kid of the team anymore. He hadn’t ever, really.

Kasey had his hair pulled back into a bun, scruff on his cheeks. He thought for a moment, rubbing at his jaw, then said, “Powerful.”

Sirius nodded. “Looks good out there.”

“Yeah,” Kasey said, then sighed, watching Leo wipe his face with a towel as he listened to the question. “Looks tired up close.”

Sirius wouldn’t have said it. At least not out loud. And Leo was good at hiding it either way. He made Marlene laugh. He smiled and let his blue eyes flash up towards the bright light of the camera in his face. He thanked her graciously and stayed a moment to talk even when the camera had lowered, the feed having cut away.

“But powerful,” Kasey repeated. “Like I said.” He looked over at Sirius. “Nice celly out there.”

“Well deserved,” Sirius said.

Kasey laughed. “Sure thing, Cap.”

Kasey followed him into the locker room and Sirius stripped off his jersey, handing it off to be replaced with a fresh one. He wished it was their home locker room. He wished he knew its every corner. The back and forth to New York lately didn’t even come close to the familiarity he had with Gryffindor.

But Remus. Remus knew his every line and shape. He was standing with Layla near the water bottles. Something about his posture, the way he had his arms crossed, made Sirius feel like he was still wearing his PT uniform, the Lions logo small and over his heart rather than taking up his entire chest on a jersey. Sirius sat down in his own stall slowly. He unstrapped his elbow guards without looking away. He couldn’t entirely believe he had spent so long thinking that this, glimpses of Remus all the way across a room, was as close as he was ever going to get.

Remus felt his gaze. Caught him at it. Smiled.

Sirius had to shake himself. 1-0 was nothing in the first period. He should be thinking about their defense right now. And stupid penalties. Definitely not about that ring tattoo he had promised himself. Definitely not about summer.

He sighed, briefly wondering why everyone thought being the captain was so great, and pushed himself back up. He pulled his shoulder and chest pads over his head and dumped them in his stall before striding towards Kota.

Kota had the decency looked a little worried. He knew that he’d pulled them down a man twice, nearly back to back. He knew they were starting the second period four on four because of him, plus an extra two for roughing. The Rangers would have the advantage for two whole minutes after resting for a whole fifteen. Logan would be pissed. Alex would be pissed. Montague would be really pissed.

Kota pulled his headphones out of his ears. “I know, Cap. I know.”

Sirius nodded slowly. They didn’t know each other that well—not compared to the other guys—but Sirius appreciated a player taking responsibility when he saw it. He didn’t appreciate the way Kota looked like he was going to spend the fifteen minutes until they were back in the tunnel kicking himself.

“I know you know,” Sirius said. “And those were clean. I’m just saying…unless you think a hit will draw something, let’s keep it even strength.”

Yeah,” Kota said. “I know…You’re right.”

“Look. I’m not—I didn’t come over here to tell you that you messed up.”

Kota sighed. “Well. Thanks, I guess.”

“Just…try to reset.” The words felt ridiculous, coming from him, and Sirius swore he felt Remus look at his back, overhearing. “It’s a new game next period.”

Hypocrite, he could hear Regulus say. Like you’ve ever reset after a period in your life.

What did he do then? Saying being up one in a knock-out game was nothing was anything but a reset. God, he just kicked himself and kicked himself until he forced the good in him out. Until he played well.

“It’s not, though,” Kota said softly.

Sirius huffed out a laugh, tasting the bitter sound. At least he wasn’t the only one.

“Non,” he conceded, and set a hand on Kota’s shoulder. “Stay out of the fucking box.”

Kota smiled a little. “Yeah. That’s more what I thought you were gonna say.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“I wish Tremblay would try to be nice.”

Leo, sitting beside him, laughed out loud. “Good luck with that, K.”

~

Finn had tried his best to not miss any of the action, but he needed a break when he needed a break. He never wanted to be back in a place where the lights took on a glare at the edges, colorful and impossible to look at. He had memories of Logan from Harvard haloed in strange glows. Kissing his cheeks and neck in that dim fuzzy light. He wasn’t sure which ones were dreams.

He waited, at least, for a TV time out, and watched Leo and Logan skate to opposite benches for water before pushing out of his seat. He found a section of the inner hallways that was dim and quiet and tilted his head back against the wall. His sling was digging into the collar of his shirt and he sighed. He wished for sweatpants and a bed, or a jersey and the ice.

Finn didn’t realize Natalie had followed him into the dim hallway until she cleared her throat. He opened his eyes just as she leaned on the wall across from him, crossing her thick-soled, dark red combat boots.

“Just a little light sensitivity,” Finn said. “Supposed to take breaks. Maybe I could wear tinted glasses inside? Don’t know how I feel about looking like a shitty rock star.”

Natalie smiled. “I think you could pull it off.”

“No, you could pull it off.”

“Well, I won’t argue with that.”

Finn smiled. His eyes had dropped to the ring on her finger, holding a glare of its own, and she must have caught him at it because she began twisting it. Almost nervously. And Natalie didn’t get nervous.

“Very shiny,” Finn said. “I mean, I think that’s probably, like, a requirement with rings, but damn. That thing got a light bulb in it or something?”

Natalie raised unimpressed eyebrows at him. “Just say it, Finn.”

“Say what?”

“I’m very versed in O’Hara maneuvers. Just. Say it.”

Finn’s mind began trying to jump ahead. Trying to figure out, as it always seem to, what she wanted him to say. The best way to say it.

He ended up with the truth, blurted out and soft. “You’re not going to marry Kasey and then suddenly decide…” He thought of Alex’s small figure, down below on the ice.

He didn’t know why he was choosing now to be worried about this. Why she was choosing now to talk it over. Period two was going on and—

The stadium erupted. They both listened until the goal song played—The Rangers had scored, then. Leo, was his first thought, and then Logan?

“1-1,” he said, he pushed up from the wall. His head still hurt but he wasn’t sure how to talk about this. Yes, maybe he was worried about Alex. But that wasn’t because of Kasey and Natalie. It was because Alex would do anything for anyone.

“Are you going to suddenly ditch Leo?” Natalie asked.

Finn shot her a disgusted look. The announcer, echoing over the ice said, Rangers goal by number 10—Finn’s heart stopped before he remembered that wasn’t Logan’s number anymore—Artemi Panarin! He let out a relieved breath.

“Well then don’t ask me that question if it’s so fucking absurd.” Natalie pushed up from the wall, too. “What the hell, Freckle?”

“Okay,” Finn said. “All right. I get it. I’m sorry, I just…”

“You just. I’ll tell you what you just. You O’Haras just sure like the feeling of the entire world on your shoulders.”

“Not really.”

Natalie looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Yeah.”

Finn watched her as her gaze dropped to her shoes. He’d seen Natalie at parties, whirling on the dance floor. He’d seen her on stage, performing small venues packed to the brim with people that adored her—one time waltzing around stage in nothing but a Winter jersey and tiny, tiny shorts, and knee high boots. He’d never seen her looking down like that before. It made her hair fall in her face, sort of the way Leo’s did when he was down. And he’d been down so much lately.

Another goal horn. Another goal song. It was the Rangers again. 2-1. Finn closed his eyes. The Lions were behind, scored on nearly back to back, within minutes of each other.

“It was Kasey and I for a long time,” Natalie said. “You know?”

“I do and I don’t.” Finn put his hand into his pocket. “It was Logan and I for a long time…but it also wasn’t. You know?”

Natalie nodded. “I know. I know what you must be thinking but—God, Finn. I do love your brother.”

“I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t know that.”

  “I know.” She held out a hand, lips pressed into a melancholy smile. She shook her blond hair out of her face and tilted her chin up. The way Leo did when he was proud, or winning. God, please let him win. Logan, I love you, but please.

The announcer, deep and booming, said goal by number 71, Logan Tremblay!

“Fuck,” Natalie said softly, looking towards the sound of the crowd. “Logan. Leo…”

Finn couldn’t say anything. This was awful.

“Come on,” Natalie said. “We’re missing all the action. Just a little longer and one of us will have one boyfriend each back around the house again.”

Finn sighed. “That’s good for no one but us.”

“Then we’ll keep our glee to ourselves and kiss them until it feels better.”

~

Leo threw off his top pads and jersey and went to the restroom mostly to have a moment by himself. The cool air in the hallway made goosebumps raise over his bare, sweat-slick shoulders and chest, and he pushed into the bathroom to run warm water over his hands, then ice cold water on his face. It was an old trick of Kasey’s. He’d told Leo about it just a few days into his first season. Leo wasn’t even sure what the trick was, but it helped. Maybe it was just because Kasey Winter had told him he did it.

Sirius had called for players only in the locker room, but he needed a minute. Just one minute. He tried looking at himself, but that felt like too much and so he closed his eyes, hands braced on either side of the sink. 2-1. He’d let in back-to-backs and one of them had been from—

Two arms suddenly went around his bare waist and his eyes opened, looking forward into the mirror.

Logan’s green eyes looked back at him from around his shoulder. He dropped his gaze for a moment, nervous, then looked back at Leo and turned his face against his bicep, lips brushing the skin. He was still wearing his undershirt and shoulder pads. They scratched against Leo’s back. Logan’s body felt hot from skating, but his hands were freezing against Leo’s stomach. His dark hair was a dripping sweaty mess all over Leo’s shoulder, his knuckles were busted and had dried blood on them…Leo couldn’t have loved him more.

Leo turned in Logan’s arms and leaned down until he could bury his face against his neck. Logan said something soft, maybe more of a sound than a word, and held him tighter. They were quiet. Leo wasn’t sure what there was to say. An apology felt wrong. It was all just part of the game. They also didn’t have the time. He had to go back in. Listen to Sirius. He had to get dressed, the buckles and the straps and the tightening. Logan had to get back to his locker room.

It was all the game—all of it except this. Logan letting Leo pull back. Logan’s eyes falling closed as Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. Logan pressing a kiss right over his heart. Logan letting Leo leave the bathroom first before following. Logan looking back at him as he walked away and catching Leo doing the very same thing. That moment hadn’t been the game. That had been just for them.

~

Coach hadn’t resisted when Sirius called for players only during the second intermission. He’d simply taken his clipboard and his staff and left the visitor’s locker room to Sirius and his boys.

It wasn’t quiet, exactly. No one was speaking, but it wasn’t quiet. There was a thrum, energy mostly. Dissipating, then building and dissipating again as if with each player’s breathing.  Sirius could feel every single one of them around him from his place in the center of the room. Like rays of heat, coming towards him. Leo had his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling without an expression on his face. Thomas had one earbud in. Pascal had ice on his thigh. James had ice on his shoulder. They were beat up. It had already been a long season and they weren’t finished yet. Each and every one of them was feeling that. Sirius knew. Remus had his eyes closed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his fingers locked. He looked like he was praying, but Sirius knew better. By the slight flick of his eyelids moving, Sirius knew he was rehearsing.

It was a show as much as it was a game. It was a plot, and everything was twisting, changing, always.

Two horrible goals let in by sloppy playing. Sirius wanted to grab that moment by its very fabric and rip it away, bundle it back in to where no one could see it. It had happened so fast. He saw, in Remus’ face, when he reached that point in his mental image of the game. His mouth pulled tight and he winced, sitting up and opening his eyes with a harsh exhale.

“I used to wish I could rehearse it,” Sirius said, keeping his eyes on Remus. Remus’ eyes softened. They said, of course you knew.

“Alors,” Sirius sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked behind him and found a stool. It had wads of used tape on it, misses from one of the garbage cans, and he brushed it off and sat, right there in the center of all of them. “Just—rehearse it and then do it. Playing well. Playing right.”

He looked up again and realized it was quiet now. Silent. Quieter than he’d ever heard their locker room. He looked down against a burst of hesitation. One of the stick tape balls had latched onto the bulk of his padded pants and he picked it up, mostly just for something to do with his hands. He knew he should be looking at them. Looking around the room.

Look up when you are speaking, Sirius. His mother’s voice came to him suddenly and his flinch was as exposed as Remus’ had been about the game. His eyes, involuntarily, darted to Pascal. Yes. He had noticed. Sirius looked back down. He didn’t have to look to see if Remus and James’ had.

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” James’ voice came and Sirius nearly closed his eyes he was so grateful. He had always been grateful for James.

James smiled at him from across the locker room, elbows on his padded knees. Sweat kept his hair out of his face and he had his contacts in. It made him look entirely different, Sirius had always thought. But not when he smiled. Then he became himself again.

“Ouais,” Sirius said with a slight smile in return. He looked down at the tape sticking and unravelling then reforming into a ball between his restless hands. “Yeah.” He took a breath. “Listen, part of me still feels weird, doing things like this. I didn’t say more than three words to half of you when I first came and I was a dick to the other half.” That got him a few laughs. He risked a glance up at Remus, who was suppressing a smile. “And it’s not like this is some speech and then we go out there and get the Cup. Non, we go out there and get to the next round which gets us to the next round….And it feels long this year.”

Some murmurs of agreement. Pascal shifted his ice to his other thigh—no, his hip. Sirius wanted to take all the pain from them and press it into himself.

Again. His father’s voice. Again, again.

“We’re one behind,” Sirius said. “It’s not much. The Rags are down the hall right now thinking about how dangerous a lead that is.”

“So, let’s be dangerous.” Thomas smiled wide.

“We are dangerous, T,” James said.

“If we are, we’re not playing like it,” Sirius said. “And none of us are okay with that, right? We have to fight harder.”

“Montague has an emotional game,” Leo said suddenly. “If you keep crashing the net, something’s going to piss him off and he’ll miss something.”

Sirius’ eyes went to Kasey, who looked back for a moment before returning his gaze to Leo. Tired. Powerful. He thought of Logan’s tipped-in goal, and how he’d stared after the puck for a moment as if he hadn’t meant for it to go in at all.

“I want to win back to back,” Sirius said. “Who else?”

Thomas, predictably, was the first to shout. He rose and pounded three times on the side of his stall. James laughed, Evgeni let out a loud shout—maybe something in Russian—and then they were chaos. All that quiet energy being let out as they made their way back towards the ice tunnel. Coach didn’t say a word to him, but when they had skated a few laps to the riotous sound of Madison Square Garden, Coach didn’t even look down at his line-up card before putting Sirius, James, and Remus out there first.

~

Logan’s wrist tweaked every time he turned it just so. Luke had gotten his cheek stitched up before the start of the third. Will had iced his shoulder until the very last minute after a solid hit by Evgeni, and Saint had kept his eyes closed nearly the entire intermission, zoned out to anything but the game. Crazy goalie, Percy had said as he passed him, but the words carried no real heat. They were banged up and tired, but the adrenaline filled the ice like water. Logan didn’t even try to keep his head above it. He breathed it in so that he didn’t think too hard, and so his body didn’t dissolve into any post-game pain.

He’d held Leo for a moment. That was what mattered as they stepped back out onto the ice for the third period. He’d scored on Leo, and Leo had still let him take him into his arms.

Alex skated up beside him and Logan knew he had something to say by the set of his mouth alone. It was very Finn.

“I know, O’Hara,” Logan said, but he sort of thought he needed to hear this anyway.

“If—let’s just say, if the opportunity presents itself…” Alex winced but continued. “You should probably try to make it seem like you meant to score this time around.”

Logan had heard it on the Rangers intermission report on TV, the commentators having a bit of a laugh at his expense. Sure enough, the game video showed him—and they had put it in slow motion, thanks a lot—blinking down at the lit up goal as his teammates put their hands up in celebration, as if he hadn’t remembered it was there.

“Shut up,” Logan said, but he really meant I’m trying.

~

Remus was aware of the ache in his muscles, but only barely. He was aware of the crowd, but only in the same way he became aware of their air conditioner in the first moments of waking up. A sound that meant nothing. It was just noise.

The force of his own body colliding against the shuddering glass thanks to Percy Marshall brought it all back into focus. The crowd roared with the hit, and Remus forced the breath out of his lungs. He ignored the fear—the phantom twinge in his shoulder and neck. He dove back for the puck.

He couldn’t watch himself lose this game. He couldn’t allow it. And yet, he had a sliver of control over it. He could pick the puck right off of Percy’s stick, but whatever greater force there was didn’t stop Luke Deveaux from being right there to block the lane he had thought was clear. He was pushed back behind the net, behind Leo, who turned towards him without taking his eyes off of Luke.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, then did his best to push into a burst of speed.

It worked for a second. He blew past Luke, who he heard curse as he skated hard backwards before turning to race after him.

“Re!” He heard Sirius’ stick tap twice on the ice and Remus passed. Sirius caught the puck in the cradle of his blade and then Remus was swinging his skates around with a sharp sound. His back was to the net, waiting for a pass back while also wanting to keep Luke in his sight. They crossed center ice cleanly, but Remus could almost feel the moment Logan got on the ice. The crowd changed, hoping—or maybe even expecting another goal from their newest member. Remus wondered if Leo’s posture had changed in the net.

He watched the way Sirius fought through it, the energy shift. His grey eyes were clouds and steel as he pulled his stick back. It should have sent Luke lunging forward into his path. Instead, when Sirius faked and passed to Remus, and when Remus got down on one knee to slap it hard towards the goal, Luke jolted the correct way. Even as Saint’s glove raised too slow, Remus’ shot hit Luke squarely in the shin and then rolled harmlessly until Saint covered the puck with his glove.

The whistle went and Luke stayed on his hands and knees, grimacing. Remus stopped hard inches from him.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, Lupin,” Luke groaned.

Saint was in his face in a moment, shoving him back, eyes hard behind his mask. “Can I fucking help you?”

“Whoa,” Remus put a hand up. “I—”

“He’s checking on me,” Luke said, pushing to his feet. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Are you?” Saint turned to look at him. His eyes raked up and down, checking.

“Yes,” Luke said, and it was much more gentle.

Remus tried to catch his breath as he turned. He caught Logan’s eye for a moment, but they both looked away.

He looked up at the big screen to see the reply—to see what had given him and Sirius away. He only caught enough in time to watch Sirius’ face fall, in slow motion. Eyes closing, mouth forming a thin line of disappointment.

They weren’t getting through. They just weren’t.

Sirius skated beside him, taking his mouthguard out. “It was my fault.”

They skated to the bench together and Remus reached for the iPad once they were in their seats. “I missed the replay, so we’ll see about that.”

But he didn’t have time to look. Thomas slugged him hard in the arm and, when he looked up, it was to find Pascal alone in front of a gassed Fox and Lindgren. He’d broken away. He was headed right towards Saint.

“Merde,” Sirius breathed from beside him. “Please…”

Pascal faked one way, then the other, beautiful, smooth skill that Remus had admired for years.

Then Pascal took the puck, as if it were part of his own body, and put it right under Saint’s left pad.

Remus heard Sirius and his own shouts mingle as they rose to their feet, sticks raised.

Pascal was grinning by the time he made it back to the bench, glove held up to be bumped down the line.

“I think I still got it, boys!” he called.

~

2-2. Something had to change.

Logan was becoming increasingly wary of a frustrated Sirius Black. He knew better than anyone what that meant, and it didn’t matter that there was six minutes left on the clock.

He caught a shot of Leo with his mask up on the big screen. He looked good. Anxious, but solid.

“So,” Alex asked as they sat down on the bench, breathing hard. “How was he?”

“Quoi?” Logan tried to catch his breath between drinks of water.

“Secret lover rendezvous.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alex just shook his head and smiled.

The clock was at five minutes and thirty seconds by the time Logan got back on the ice, and then four minutes and twenty seconds, and then three minutes and fifteen seconds. Still, nothing. Neither team was budging.

One minute seven seconds now. Coach was double shifting him and Luke. There was no time to think. Logan jumped the boards and skated hard to catch up with the action. Will had forced a turn-over and was now trapped between Olli and Pascal. It was a good coaching call. Arthur had obviously thought Logan’s line would rest another shift, but the Rangers hadn’t given him the time to put Sirius and Remus out against them once again. Logan knew they were the better line and that this was their chance to even the score.

The whistle went at forty-five seconds remaining for over the glass deflection right near Saint’s goal. When he looked towards the Rangers’ bench, Coach shook his head. Stay on.

That should have felt better than it did. It should have felt like trust and confidence. Instead, Logan filled with dread.

“Hey.” Luke bumped their shoulders, holding a glove him to his mouth so no camera could read his lips. “Remember what I said. If I can, I’ll do it.”

It was kind, but it was a fantasy. There was no guarantee, and they would both be killed by the coaching staff, not to mention the media, if they over-passed at such a high stakes moment.

“Thanks,” Logan said, because they both knew the truth. Luke’s smile was tight. Logan wondered if some part of him actually did wonder if Logan could follow through.

The thought struck a competitive chord within Logan that he wanted nothing to do with.

Alex got kicked from the face-off yet again—along with a sharp stop mouthing off, O’Hara! from the ref. It left Logan face-to-face with Sirius again, just as he’d been at the very beginning of this game.

They looked at each other. Sirius, who had seen him at his worst and at his best. Sirius, who he’d gone from looking up to, to calling one of his closest friends.

Sirius offered a small smile. “Friends either way?” he asked in French.

Logan nodded. “Toujours.” Always.

Sirius won the puck, but he didn’t hold onto it. It was a strange scrabble. Logan found himself playing from his knees at one point, fighting against Sirius and James’ shoulders and sticks.

“Tremz!” Luke shouted.

Logan shoved the puck towards him in a motion that carried enough momentum to land him sprawled on his belly.

“Merde,” Sirius cursed, and they both scrambled up.

Part of his mind was only on the fact that Luke had the puck and that he hoped the others could keep it if they were going to score. That didn’t mean he stayed out of position, but every part of him fought and wavered. Take the shot. Pass. Take the shot. Luke, obviously, was trying to keep the puck away from Logan, too.

But Percy didn’t know about their pact. When he was cornered by Remus, he sent a clean pass straight towards Logan.

The puck hit his stick blade right in front of Leo—and there was no time. There was no time to look for Luke. There was no space. A pass would send him, and maybe Luke, too, spilling right into Leo’s blue paint and goal. Logan realized he was holding his breath because it felt like the ice was closing in on him, so cold that it burned.

He looked right at Leo. He could hardly see his blue eyes through the mask’s shadow, only the red and gold gleaming paint and the lions teeth drawn around the cage. He could see Leo recognize his movements though. He knew Leo would recognize his movements. He knew Leo’s play just as well as Leo knew his.

Don’t. Every muscle in his body screamed the word. Not him. Don’t do this to him.

But Leo would hate him if he knew he was holding back, wouldn’t he?

Logan would hate himself either way.

There was no time.

~

Remus could only watch as Logan pulled his stick back. If this went in, it was over. If this went in, the Lions were finished.

“Read him,” he heard Sirius say in a fast rush of French. “Read him, Leo, read him—”

Please, Remus thought. Please.

~

Please, Logan thought, wind on his face.

Please. It filled his whole being.

Please, he begged, someone, anyone. He didn’t even know what he was begging for.

He whipped the puck forward, right at Leo, and watched it leave the ice, flat disk wavering against the air.

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 4: Dead End

Some Luke/Logan friendship for day four of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Thanks to @lumosinlove for creating these two, and special thanks to @fruitcoops for beta-reading this and being an all-around excellent friend and hype noot. <3

Title: Birds of a Feather Characters: Luke Deveaux, Logan Tremblay Rating: G

(Contains Vaincre spoilers!)

“Luke and I have been running along the river. You know, the Hudson River path? It’s been kinda warm so sometimes we lay out after. There’s a park with grass. It’s nice.” (Logan, Vaincre, May Part Two)

~

They didn’t have a set schedule or anything. It would happen like this: Luke would text him something like “Run tomorrow? Gonna be nice out,” Logan would send a thumbs-up, and they’d pick an access point along the path to meet—sometimes a familiar one, sometimes a new one way uptown or downtown so they could try out a different route. That’s how it happened in the beginning, at least. Now Logan texted first sometimes, too.

Neither of them were runners the way Finn was, both preferring to keep it down to a few easy miles at most. Sometimes they’d stop so Luke could pet a dog, or so Logan could take a picture of the view to send to his boys. It was…well, nice, like he’d told Leo. Grounding. Head-clearing. Nice, too, to hang out with Luke outside of practice, travel and team dinners.

He had other real friends in New York, of course—with Alex, Percy and Will as his teammates, it still kind of shocked Logan just how many friends he had here—but there was a level of understanding with Luke that was unique. Alex and Percy were loud, outgoing, hearts-on-their-sleeves people. Will was a thousand times more patient and level-headed than Logan could ever be. But Luke—Luke was a lot like him. A hundred silent thoughts for every one said aloud. Guarded around new people. Tough shells, Leo had said of the two of them. Logan supposed that was as good a phrase to characterize it as any. He just knew he was thankful for it.

On this particular day—the warmest they’d had since they’d started doing this together—they hooked up with the path near the George Washington Bridge and headed south, flanked by rows of still-blooming cherry trees lining the river. They’d timed it late enough in the afternoon for the crowds of cyclists, families and dog-walkers to have thinned slightly, but with enough daylight left so they could finish before dark. Streaks of orange and pink were starting to paint the sky by the time they reached Riverside Park. They found an empty spot and planted themselves there; the grass was cool on Logan’s skin as he flopped down on his back, only raising his head to take a sip of water before going boneless.

“Do you have a good route in Gryff?”

Logan’s gaze traveled from the wispy clouds overhead to Luke sitting beside him, bent over his own thigh in a stretch.

“Ouais, kind of,” he replied. He liked that Luke never used the past tense when they talked about Gryffindor, about his life there. “I usually go with Finn—he has his favorites. There’s one we do in the old part of the city that’s good. You know the Godric’s Hollow neighborhood?”

Luke nodded, switching to the other leg. “Hazard dragged us to a bakery there on some little dead-end street once.”

An ache Logan was now familiar with pinged briefly in his chest. Race you to the door. Damn, I can smell those croissants. C’mon, Lo baby, I’ll buy you something sweet. “I know the one. Pretty sure he built the route around that bakery. Even when Knutty and I sleep in, he’ll bring us back something.”

It was a relief to not have to pick and choose his words when it came to Finn and Leo. So new, and still so strange. Had there ever been a time before the last few weeks when he didn’t have to worry about implications?

Finished with his stretch, Luke sat up straight and rolled his neck and shoulders a few times before grabbing his own water bottle. “He’s a morning guy, eh?”

Logan nodded. “Annoyingly so. He needs a coffee in one hand and a book in the other just to keep him in bed past eight.”

Luke gave a hum of acknowledgement, then chugged the rest of his water. He was quiet long enough that Logan was about to ask something else, but then Luke, staring out at the water, said, “Saint’s the same way.”

It was a good thing that Logan had already noticed, that he’d already suspected as much, because it was easy to keep his expression neutral. He was surprised, though; not because Luke and Saint were a thing, but because Luke had told him about it.

“He’s a morning runner?” he asked, staying put in his casual sprawl as though no big news had just been dropped.

“No, yoga. Out on his balcony, ass crack of dawn, with this ugly tie-dye bandana on his head.”

Logan laughed, loud and bright, and it startled a little laugh out of Luke, too. “Goalies are crazy.”

Luke’s shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, dropped; his whole body seemed to relax by several degrees, and he smiled. “They’re nuts.”

They both let the lull in conversation stretch for a little while after that. Luke eventually laid down under the waning sun like Logan was, both of them watching the sky as the city provided a familiar soundtrack of birds, dogs, people and distant traffic. Logan thought about how Luke helped make New York feel like a home away from home. About how nice, how necessary, it was to carve out new routines and memories in a place that was so tangled up with his memories of Finn, and how Luke seemed to know that, how he’d been helping Logan do that without ever discussing it. Though, he guessed part of it was that Luke simply wanted to hang out with him because he liked him.

Liked him and trusted him. Logan wasn’t sure how he’d earned that, but he knew he’d do his best to keep it.

And because he liked Luke, too, he had to turn his head on the grass to look at him and find out what the two of them were dealing with, even if it was awkward.

“Do the other guys know?”

Luke shook his head.

“Your families?”

Another head shake.

“Have you talked about it? You and him.”

Luke glanced away, then snapped his eyes back to Logan like he was making himself stick this out. Logan understood that more than he could put into words. “Not really. It’s—a thing, but not…no one’s said boyfriend. It’s not like Black and Lupin. Or you three.”

“D’accord.”

Luke didn’t ask him not to tell anyone. He didn’t need to.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Luke said after a moment.

Logan shrugged. “Not because—I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I think maybe I can see it because I lived it for so long.”

Luke looked like he was taking that in for a second. Logan hoped he got it right. He wasn’t Finn, who always knew just what to say to anyone, or Leo, who made people feel comfortable with the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But Luke nodded, tossed him a stick of gum, and started talking about their upcoming game on Tuesday, so Logan figured he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

They talked hockey until they really started to lose the light, then made their way through the park toward the street, walking fast to keep warm as dusk ushered the spring chill back in. They lived close enough to share an uber, and Luke called one as they reached the curb.

Logan pulled out his phone as they waited; Finn had correctly guessed where he was just from a blurry picture of one of the pink-petaled trees from earlier, and Leo sent a selfie of the two of them with goofy grins from ear to ear and a love you, gonna kiss you in 2 days!!!. He forgot all about the weather, warmed from the inside out at the sight of them. He wanted that for Luke and Saint, too. He wanted it for everyone who still had to hide, who still told themselves they weren’t allowed to have it.

The car pulled up in front of them and, just before they got in, Luke put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Thanks, Tremz,” he said, tone casual but green-brown eyes sincere. “For real.”

“No worries,” Logan said, a phrase he’d picked up from Leo. “Get in, I’m fucking freezing.”

Luke shoved him, then climbed into the car. Logan followed his friend close behind.

[tea-moon-ster]

O'Knutzy Week (late) day 4

O'Knutzy Vacation! In Italy!

So, this was meant to be for O'Knutzy Week (which has been over for a week now, but what is time anyway?) It's the first of two parts (pt2 is close behind!) and also a present for sweet Harzy! Happy bday bud. Have some love and be a lit nerd with me. Chraracters credits to the wonderful @lumosinlove, prompt and hosting credits to @oknutzyweek2023.

Prompt: Summer Vacation

“Lo, tell me that I’m a genius.”

“You’re a genius.”

“And that you love me.”

“I love you so, so much.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Leo. He was sitting on the couch with a proud grin on his face, his iPad close to his chest in the way Finn held his books after finishing them. He looked like a kid too excited not to speak, Logan noted. Cute. “You know that I love serenading you, but that grin tells me there’s something else. What is it?”

“So, we’ll be in Nice in August.”

“Ouais.”

“Did you know Nice was part of Italy once?”

Logan’s eyes widened in alarm. “Look, it’s better if it doesn’t come up while we’re there, or with my mother. People don’t like to…”

“No, Lo, I mean. It’s close. Literally so close.”

“Yeah, I went there once or twice as a kid. You…wanna go?”

“Could we?”

Logan went to sit on the armrest of the couch and left a kiss among soft curls. “We can do whatever we want, Peanut.”

Leo’s smile almost blinded him. “Great. Because I found something our Harzy will love.”

Logan let himself slide next to Leo, circling his shoulders with an arm. “Tell me everything.”

“Did he enjoy studying Romanticism in college?”

Logan laughed. “Butter, I distinctly remember him crying over Romanticism in college. More than twice.”

“Perfect."

•••

They spent two weeks in Nice, rediscovering the bliss of taking their time. They started their slow, quiet days with the sun high in the sky, rolling over in bed to find each other despite the heat. Nice was a constant flow of colors, sounds and touches that Finn never wanted to forget. It was the smiles and kisses shared for the pictures, and Logan showing them little villages on the coast and immense lavender fields. It was Leo’s hand dragging them around colorful markets, and it was Logan ordering meals in a quick and slightly different flow of French.

It was everything.

It was…a car?

Finn blinked. And not just some car. It was an old-style, red Chevy that shined under the sun, convertible roof and elegant lines. Finn swore had come out straight of an old movie. Leo and Logan were there, leaning on the car with two pleased, smug smiles plastered on their pretty faces. At their feet, their bags were packed.

“Hop on, sweetheart,” Leo smiled, rolling the slow vowels in his mouth as honey dripping from a spoon. “We’re goin’ on an adventure.”

Finn blinked again. “Guys, what…” The flight home is in a week. That’s not our car. Why are our bags packed? Did I forget something we had planned? Did something happen?

“We,” Logan interrupted his thoughts, opening the backseat’s door for him , “Are taking you on a trip.”

“We are on a trip,” Finn mumbled absently, but he stepped forward. He peeked inside. A pile of books was neatly displayed on the cream leather backseat. He  gasped and launched himself, making the car creak eerily.

“Harz,” Leo laughed. “The car is as old as it looks, hun.”

But Finn didn’t pay him any attention, as unusual as it sounds. He was busy studying the various books. A quick scan of the titles made him frown. The Greatest Romantic Poems. Romanticism in Italy. The Gulf of the Poets: inspiration for immortal verses.

“You guys,” Finn breathed. He passed a reverent hand on the book covers, as if he’d just found a treasure.

Logan squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Allons, mon rouge. We have a reservation for dinner.”

The road was a wonderful, continuous landscape of coasts and alps. Finn remembered it all like a dream the moment you wake up. Confused flashes and big emotions you can’t quite put a finger on. He remembered Leo’s tanned arms on the steering wheel and Logan’s hair dancing wildly in the wind. Hands reaching blindly for his knee and flipping the books’ pages and photos to understand what was happening. At one point he caught Leo’s smiling eyes in the review mirror. We can surprise you, too, Harzy. He guessed he’d turned pretty insistent at some point, too, because they explained him everything.

“There’s this bay with the cutest little villages,” Leo said as he raised the convertible roof and silence replaced the roaring wind. The sun was high in the sky, and Finn had gotten plenty of sun in the last few weeks. “And that’s where some of your favorite poets lived for some time. Shelley, Byron, others. And it was pretty close, you know?”

“So, Leo thought we’d make a little surprise trip. He looked it all up.”

“Well, Logan found the car and the books.”

“And,” Logan smiled, “A cooking class on how to make authentic focaccia, tomorrow night.”

Leo gasped without looking away from the road. His hand found Logan’s and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Sweetheart, you didn’t.”

“It’s a cooking class with aperitif. We’ll have spritz with an Italian grandma.”

“I love you so much.”

“Yeah, you do.”

They laughed, but Finn just smiled and leaned back in his seat. He didn’t trust himself with words just yet. He focused on the group of colorful, crumpled houses that were getting bigger and bigger instead, wondering how did the stars align so perfectly that he’d ended up with two boyfriends like that. Two people that knew him so well, and cared so much to make all that fuss just for him. He leaned forward to take Logan’s hand and squeeze Leo’s shoulder, and received a squeeze back and a quick kiss to his hand. They must have understood what was going on with him, because they didn’t say a thing. They always knew what Finn was thinking- even when Finn himself had no idea.

They soon reached their destination, a white villa that looked directly on to the sea and stood regally against the deep blue. Next to the big entrance, a marble plaque. Finn squinted to read it, and his eyes widened. He remembered thinking fuck it as he let the grip in his throat, that had kept him on edge since the beginning of the trip, loose into watery sobs.

“Guys, what the fuck,” he cried. Leo hopped down the car and cooed him into a hug as Logan quickly made his way over and took his place under Finn’s chin. They just held him there, in between them, as he stared at the big house. “The Shelley’s villa. Shelley’s. They lived here.”

“It’s a hotel and museum now,” Leo explained, a smile in his voice and against Finn’s forehead. “Couldn’t let it pass.”

Finn held them tighter. “Of course you couldn’t.”

•••

The next few days passed in an enchanted haze. It was the crashing sound of the waves that woke them up, and later rocked them into gripping bedsheets and each other hard. They explored villages lost in time, enjoying their slow rhythms and careless calm. They kept themselves off the beaten path that the area had traced for tourists, and the villa itself was located out of the nearest town. No one would recognize them. Their days on the Italian coast were full of brighty colored houses that spied the sea, and midnights jump into the dark water to escape the heat.

As it turned out, Leo had kept one last surprise to himself just like Logan. Where the steps of the villa met the sea, a white motorboat was waiting for them. Finn let himself be guided onto the passenger seat as Leo took them far from the rocky shores, and Logan pressed smiles and kisses on him.

But it was on the third day that Finn’s own personal catharsis came to a peak.

He was more or less shoved into the car by a too excited Leo and an amused Logan for a short drive to a village close by. It was beautiful and colorful like the many others they’d seen, but it was at the top of a cliff that the magic was revealed. Old walls stood timeless and climbed up to a little church that faced the sea on its own; and behind the walls, a narrow passage on the side of the rocks went down.

Finn squinted in the sun to read the plaque above the passage. ‘“This grotto was the inspiration of Lord Byron. It records the immortal poet and daring swimmer…’” he trailed off, eyes widening. He turned, looking at the other two with an alarmed frown. “You guys are fucking with me. You… you’re just putting on these plaques in random places. To kill me.”

Logan laughed at that, patting his shoulder. “Ouais, Harzy, that’s exactly how things went. You didn’t notice Knutty slipping out of bed this morning while I was riding the life out of you.”

Finn opened and closed his mouth a few times, even more at loss of word. At least he could pretend the redness on his cheeks was sunburn.

“Stop thinking of this morning, Harz,” Logan called. “Allez, it’s Byon’s cave. You love him. This is the core of your Italian adventure.”

Finn studied the plaque a moment longer, before glancing at the passage with a sudden urgency. “So, this…this is where he composed his most important poems.” His voice trembled a bit.

Leo handed him the tote bag he’d been carrying around with a smile. “Inside there’s a notebook and your favorite pen, some music and a towel.”

Finn frowned. “You’re not coming with me? No, you two are my Italian adventure.”

Long fingers squished his cheeks around a kiss. “We thought we might give you some time, and then come and get you.”

“Come on, Rouge,” Logan came at their side. “We know you’re dying to have your poet moment. We’ll be right here.”

Finn stared at them for a second, disbelievingly, then drew them both into a hug, squeezing as hard as he could. “I love you so much. I love you, love you, love you.”

Carefully, he started to go down the steep passage. Only a slim railing kept him from the risk of falling, but Finn found he couldn’t slow down as he jumped from rock to rock, ignoring Leo and Logan telling him to be careful. After a sharp turn, the cave appeared. Finn kept his breath as he wandered inside, nose up to the dark walls and the landscape the grotto framed.

He felt his eyes burn. He remembered reading again and again poems about that place- so much that it felt a bit like coming home. Hell, he’d done it all; he’d read, recited, written essays and annotated every line of those pages. Of those clouds at the horizon. The fact that he remembered everything so vividly was infinitesimal compared to the realization that Logan remembered, too. Quiet nights in their Harward room, only a small light in between them for Finn to read to him. And Leo…oh, Leo. So careful to everything Finn as much as breathed on. It was easy to picture him putting that trip together in silence, without leaving anything to chance.

He took a seat on a rock, taking it all in. The rocky cliffs, covered by the lively green of pines, ended abruptly into the sea. The gentle rocking of the waves arrived at his ankles. Finn understood what the poets were so desperately trying to communicate through their bleeding lines. What they’d been lacking before they found that paradise, and why their lives and poetry would forever be tied to those shores.

But the only thing Finn could think of was them.

Logan’s smile that morning. And every morning before. And every morning forever.

Leo jumping into the crystal blue water, and his smile resurfacing before anything else. He looked like a nymph appearing from the waves. His own personal muse. His hero that would not end in tragedy.

Finn closed his eyes and breathed.

When he exhaled, messy ink had filled pages on his lap, and the sun had lowered a bit.

“Wow.”

Finn turned, to see Leo and Logan staring mesmerized at the sea, holding hands. Leo raised his free one to him, mouth still half open. Finn got up, and squeezed it as he joined them, keeping quiet as if not to disturb the waves.

They breathed together. Finn’s eyes were wide and a little red. He licked his lips. “I wrote some poems for you."

•

•

•

Notes: this was a pretty self indulgent piece, more fluff will come in pt2! Hope you enjoyed!

[under-theweirwood]

o'knutzy week day two!

a little angst, a little tremblay sibling bonding, a little emotional hurt/comfort. @oknutzyweek2023 && @lumosinlove cred4ever

(note: vaincre spoilers! set sometime after logan's move)

Sydney wasn’t Logan’s first choice sister for emotional support. She was his first choice sister for lake days and horror movies and practicing shootouts but not usually affairs of the heart. Noelle was better at that, or even Aubrey. Sydney was maybe a bit too much like Logan. 

But she was the one in Manhattan, the one who had called him, interrupted his usual pastime of laying in his empty apartment being sad, telling him that she was in town for one night because a game got rescheduled and she wanted to check on her little brother. The little brother in question might have gotten choked up a little just hearing her familiar accent, the slight nasal in her voice, the clack of her nails when she put the phone on speaker and typed in his address.

And then she was there after practice, like they were kids and they’d just finished up practice on the same rink.

“Lolo,” she’d yelled, sounding the same she’d always sounded, waiting outside for him to finish getting changed. She was so much the way she always was that it almost made Logan cry again. He stayed choked up even while he shushed her, gave her a tight hug, and knocked her beanie askew just to make her scowl. 

He was drained, from practice and from not sleeping and missing Finn and Leo every second of the day. She was tired too, her season just as much underway back in Canada as his was. And Logan knew she didn’t really need to come into town, could have gone up a day early for her next game. She came to check on him because she loved him, because he could try not to call his boys but he couldn’t ever hold back from calling his sisters.

They got coffee from the place just around the corner from Logan’s apartment, ordering the same drink that Finn had been calling sugar-water for years. Two iced mochas with cinnamon, almond milk. Lo and Syd, same as always. 

Logan even thought he had done a good job playing host, even just showing her the blue walls of the Rangers facility and the few restaurants and cafes the team had shown him. It wasn’t like it was her first time in the city, but still, it felt good to show her his little life there. To prove, maybe, that he was hanging in there. 

It got harder to keep his spirits up later in the day. By dinnertime, Logan’s phone had blinked up a few notifications from the boys, wrenching his heart a little each time. Outside the city was lit up but inside felt cold as ever. It felt silly to hang things on the walls of the apartment that was so not home, but that didn’t mean it felt good looking at all the blank, anonymous walls, the way that the space still looked exactly like it had when he toured. Dirty shoes and some duffels by the door, ready for practice, but that was about it. 

“Ouais, Lo, I’m making dinner.” Sydney clapped her hands, interrupting his moping, sliding into the open plan kitchen on her socked feet. “I know you must have something in this fancy apartment of yours.” 

Logan pulled himself off the couch and slid across the room to stand next to her by the cabinets. 

“I can make soup- for sure, I can make you some tomato soup.” Sydney pulled out the can, and turned to the fridge to see what else there was. Logan was almost sure there was some cheese, maybe some veggies. He planned to go to the store after practice the day before-- or two days earlier? But it was so easy just to order in, pick something up on the way home. And that was if he was hungry anyway. Sometimes his stomach just hurt too much in his empty apartment, and he just made tea and got into bed and tried to sleep. 

“Lolo, you really don’t have much here do you?” Sydney’s voice was soft when she looked over. The fridge was empty, just some condiments and half a burger growing mold in its styrofoam to-go container. 

Logan’s chest felt tight. There was his sister and his empty fridge and he couldn’t even make it to the grocery store to pick up some essentials. He was an adult and he didn’t even have milk on the shelf. 

“Your big boy NHL paycheck and you don’t even get some fruit?” Sydney was teasing him in her familiar way, but she must have been able to tell that something was suddenly wrong because her voice was soft, and then she was moving across the kitchen to wrap her arms around him. 

Logan tried to answer but all he got out was a kind of whimper. Sydney tightened her arms, shushing him gently. “I know, leaving Gryff has been hard on you, I know.” She was the same height as him- which Logan would deny, of course-- but just then he felt tiny, tucked into her side like a little kid. “Lolo, c’mon, it’s okay.” she shushed him gently, running her hands through his hair. 

He tried to breath slowly, calmly, but all he got out was another little sob. Logan didn’t know when he’d started crying, only that he felt suddenly unmoored, totally adrift. What was he doing in New York City, playing at being okay on his own? He wished he was in Gryff, of course, sandwiched between Finn and Leo on their couch, or even at home in the house he’d grown up in where nothing was ever more wrong than Sydney taking the last biscuit or running late to a practice.  

Sydney rubbed his back back comfortingly, one hand still in his hair as she guided him over to the couch and pulled him down so he was curled against her. “They shouldn’t have made you come here,” she said finally, when Logan finally caught his breath. 

“Ouais,” Logan sniffled. “They shouldn’t have, we were so good together.” He wasn’t sure if the ‘we’ was the lions, or Finn and Leo, or the Dumais kids clambering over him. It was all so good. 

Sydney understood, of course: Hockey was hockey, and they were lucky enough to have beaten the odds to play the game as a career. That meant giving up some security, though, accepting that a call could come from way up and change everything. 

Sydney paused in stroking hair hair, the way she did sometimes when she was deciding what to say. “You know,” she said slowly, “we never talked about it but I had to- when I got traded to Toronto Amber was still in Montréal. It was... a year, I think? Maybe two?” 

Logan sniffled, distracted for a second by what he thought Syd might be trying to tell him. 

“Amber your? Your friend from college?” He remembered Amber, he thought- all his sisters had been popular, bringing back friends for weeks in the summer and ski trips in the winter. Amber stood out, Sydney’s closest friend. She was taller than Logan and even more muscular that Sydney, with short hair and smooth dark skin. 

Sydney snorted out a laugh. “Lolo, my... friend? My friend from college?” She pulled away to raise both her eyebrows at him, speaking slowly like he was a toddler. 

Logan was confused. “You missed her when you played in different cities?” That made sense, it was always hard to go from sharing lines to facing someone across the ice. Logan hadn’t even really needed to do it until this, until now, but it loomed over the season. 

“Lo, you are so smart sometimes but also so dumb...” Sydney massaged the corners of her forehead, cracking up as she shook her head. “Amber my girlfriend? My girlfriend who I also had to do hockey long-distance with?” 

Logan blinked back at her. “You’re gay?” 

Sydney sighed exaggeratedly and flopped backwards on the couch. “Yes I am gay Logan I thought that when I brought my girlfriend of multiple years to our house for holidays that made it clear? Maybe when we lived together in Montréal? Maybe now that we literally own a house together I thought you would realize?” 

Logan sat back, considering. Parsed out like that, it did seem a little silly that he didn’t realize. But living together? He’d thought they were roommates, and he hadn’t actually spent more than a few hours in that apartment when he was visiting. And the house that they bought? That was harder to understand, but Logan had assumed it was like, a townhouse? Something with multiple apartments that they co-owned? Everyone talked about the high cost of housing, sharing didn’t seem too crazy. Once, he and Finn had talked about buying some house under the stars on a lake they could skate on. He and Finn... Logan sighed. It was coming together. 

“I guess I just assumed you were like me and Finn, really close friends?” Logan chewed his lip thoughtfully. 

Sydney threw her hands in the air. “Yes, Logan,” she said still speaking slowly. “Just like you and Finn. For example, together!” 

“You mean- this whole time, you’ve been gay?” Logan couldn’t believe it. He’d felt so alone, so broken, for so long. Even telling Noelle, telling his sisters about how he felt, it was a dark secret, a burden to be shared. Never did he think that he could have another queer sibling. 

“This whole time, Lolo,” Sydney rolled her eyes. “You were just too worried about your boy to think about it I guess. You think you all are the only queers in hockey?” 

“Sorry about that...” Logan felt bad as she said it. Of course he hadn’t noticed anything, he did spend all of college and most of his first year in the NHL obsessing over Finn, or obsessing over how to stop it.

“Oh, shh,” Sydney laughed, slouching against him as she pulled out her phone. “Aubrey and I were betting on if you had noticed anything last summer. She owes me a favor, I knew you weren’t paying any attention.” 

“Ugh,” Logan sighed. “I can’t believe you guys placed bets.” He’d been thoroughly distracted from his feelings by Sydney’s revelation, and now he felt embarrassed to be such a baby, not to mention for being clueless. Also, hungry. “So, dinner?” He imagined Leo, what Finn and him were no doubt sitting down to eat at home. It didn’t hurt as much as it would have an hour earlier, though, not with his sister splayed out on the couch next to him, making fun of him. 

“How about we order dinner, what about that?” Sydney was already scrolling through options on her phone. “Neither of us is really a cook, huh.” 

That made Logan snort out a laugh, even if he still had tears drying around his eyes. They’d burnt plenty of toast (and soup, and pasta, and...)  together growing up. 

“There’s good sushi here,” he said, leaning over to tap Sydney's screen when she scrolled past. 

“Bet,” she said, making him laugh with her exaggerated American accent. 

“Bet,” he parroted, “Ouais, let’s order, I’m hungry.” 

Later, they would talk about everything. About first crushes and first kisses, glances in locker rooms and hands held on busses to roadies, about feeling alone and then the magic of feeling alone together with someone special. Eventually, over the course of years, they would talk about what it meant to be queer kids growing up in hockey, about the women’s league and how things were different from the NHL and how things were the same. 

That night, though, they ate sushi, and slept side by side on Logan’s bed, curled around his laptop playing French cartoons from when they were kids.  For the first time since he moved in, Logan fell asleep easily, the familiar sound of his sisters breathing reminding him that he wasn’t alone. 

[splendidlyinlove]

Hearts and Homes

Pairing: O'Knutzy

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Leo is home for Christmas with his boys and his mother has given them the very important job of helping her make Christmas cookies. Something feels different, though.

CW for holiday and food mentions

Thank you to the wonderful @lumosinlove for creating these characters!

Leo's childhood home was warm around this time of year. Warm in the way the incandescent bulbs threw a soft glow across rooms (The LEDS just aren't the same Le), warm from the coastal breeze fluttering through windows, but mostly warm because of preheating ovens. 

His mother had gone all out again this year. Every year since Leo could hold a wooden spoon, Eloise Knut had him mixing cookie dough. The only difference this year was the amount of bakers. 

Finn and Leo bobbed amongst a sea of cookie trays covering kitchen counters. Finn was in the ugliest Christmas sweater one could find, and Logan kept making little disgusted faces every time the blinking Santa Claus on said sweater broke into another verse of Jingle Bells. Though, Lohan did have flour on his face that Finn had yet to mention, so, payback. 

His mother hummed along to the radio as she tossed even more ingredients into the Kitchen Aid. It all felt familiar to Leo; it was home after all, but he couldn't shake a small desire in the back of his mind for snowfall behind the New York City skyline and Canadian cabins up to their eaves in snow. It was an adjustment, to say the least, not a bad one, just one he hadn't been expecting. 

"What's going on in that head of yours, Pumpkin?"

Leo snapped his head up from where he had been staring intently at a sheet of dough rolled out on the counter. 

"It's warm." 

"It is not! It's fifty degrees out; got out my thick socks for today." 

Leo gave his mother a cheeky look. 

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that," Finn said. He was on oven duty and strictly oven duty. Logan was allowed to touch the dough under supervision. He was currently attempting to cut little gingerbread men that looked like the three of them. It was cute. It made something settle right behind Leo's sternum. 

"Oh, like you have anything to talk about." Logan poked Finn in the chest with a whisk. 

"I'll have you know, NYC winters–!" 

"So, it's warm." Leo turned back to Eloise as Finn and Logan devolved into increasingly nonsensical bickering. 

"Yeah. It's warm." 

Eloise gave him a look like she already had it all figured out. She probably did. 

"Oh, he's gone all northern on me already. Wistfully dreaming of a white Christmas in the New Orleans sun. The best I have is confetti pumpkin; hope it's enough." 

Leo laughed, and his mother smiled. He was seven years old again, stealing chocolate chips off the counter, laughing when he got caught, his mother laughing too.

They settled into a bout of comfortable silence after that. Something was still niggling at the back of Leo's mind, though. 

"It's just…" 

Eloise looked up, now rolling out her famous peppermint mocha cookie dough. 

"Yes?" 

"This is home." 

"Yes." 

"This has always been my home." 

"...Yes." 

"It's not like it doesn't feel like home this time. It's just that…" 

Eloise looked at him and smiled that knowing smile. 

"What?" 

Eloise shrugged. "Didn't say anything." 

"You're up to something." 

"I am! I'm making cookies!" 

"Mama."

Eloise chuckled. "You're in love, sweetheart." 

"...Okay? But-" 

"Oh, sugar, it's simple. Home isn't really a place. It's just love." She picked up a silver cookie cutter and started pressing out shapes. "So, in that way, New Orleans is home because it's where Dad and I's love for you lives." 

The radio across the kitchen slowly faded to the next song. 

I'll be home for Christmas…

"A home, by the way, that you will continue to visit periodically til the end of time. I'll create new holidays to celebrate if I have to-"

"Of course, I'll always come back, Mama." 

Eloise patted his cheek with a floury hand. "Anyways, but New Orleans isn't the only place where love for you lives anymore, is it?" She tilted her head towards where Logan was taking pictures of Finn attempting to balance spoons on his nose. 

"And the people that hold that love for you, bless their heart, love the cold and snow. And so, home now isn't just the New Orleans sun. It's a little colder." 

Leo could almost feel things finally slot into place in his mind. They had always been there, the strings that tugged his heart North, South, and East. He had always thought one direction would win out, but he was wrong. They enabled his heart to stretch farther across state lines and biomes, rivers and lakes, cities and farms. Home had just gotten bigger, stretching out its limbs, settling into the comfort of having more room to breathe. 

Leo held back a few wayward tears that threatened to well up.

"I miss thirty-degree weather," he said with shock and awe. 

Eloise shook her head. "Lord, help us." 

Leo laughed at the same time a telltale Ding! sounded from the oven. 

"The cookies!" Finn yelped before putting on comically large oven mitts and racing towards the oven. He took out a tray of sugar cookies and started to place them on the wire racks. Logan wandered over to where Leo was working and rested his head on Leo's shoulder. 

"What are we talking about?" 

"The cold." 

"Oh! We should absolutely ask Noelle if she'd be up to trade weeks for the family cabin next month. Maybe we could go ice fishing." 

Leo looked at his mother.

"Don't look at me, you picked him." 

Leo trembled with barely contained laughter.

"Quoi? It will be fun, Soleil, I promise." 

Finn walked over, making little Ah! Ooh! noises as he gently tossed a cookie back and forth between both hands. 

"Here, Le, taste. We need to know if it's Knapproved." 

Leo leaned forward and took a bite out of the same sugar cookie his mother had been baking since he could talk, but it tasted a little different this time. 

It still tasted like boat rides and summer heat, but it also tasted like peppermint tea and long drives. It tasted like sleepy mornings and playoff wins and bookshops. It tasted like something impossible. It tasted like the simplest thing on Earth. 

Even though Leo's love stretched across country borders, it somehow managed to all fit in that small kitchen then, tucked into the corners and squeaky cabinets. 

"It's good."