02/??: POLARIS - Dennis Wideman/Marc Savard
Title: Polaris
Author: geekintehpink
Pairing/Characters: Marc Savard/Dennis Wideman. Mention of Ilya Kovalchuk, Cam Keith and an OC named Evan.
Rating: PG13.
Warnings: None. Well, maybe one. Angst ahoy.
Summary: Marc flip-flops more than a politician.
Word Count: 1,712
Author's Notes: Thanks honeybee718 for betaing, because she is made of the awesome.
Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen, don't sue. Kthxbai.
Alert the presses. Marc Savard walks out on chance to have sex with attractive young male. Staring at your steering wheel, you shake your head as you pull away from the guy-Evan's-apartment. Evan's hot, sure. Really hot, and for a moment, you forget about everything else. But only for a moment. Throughout dinner, your mind was elsewhere, and there's no use in denying where it was. It's the reason you set this date up to begin with. The reason you almost didn't show up, but all in all, the reason that pushed you to go. Not to mention the the reason you left. God, you didn't-no, you don't-know what it was about Dennis' voice on the phone, but it was all you could think of over the course of dinner with Evan. And when he asks you if you want to go up to his bedroom, you decide it's a good idea just to go home.
You bite your lip when you see the road that leads to Dennis' place in the distance, and even though you don't think you should, you find yourself turning down that road. And even though you're mad at yourself at first, you know that he was the reason that you left Evan's house.
On your way there, you're preparing things to say. Trying to decide why and how you want to tell him that you think he's beautiful. And how you want to tell him that he makes it all seem okay. You could just say it, you suppose. Just blurt it out and tell him that he's the most amazing person you've ever seen, and you're tired of bed hopping and want to spend your every morning and night with him. But you know better. He'd freak. You know this because you know for a fact that he's just as scared as you of loving and losing. You've both been let down (granted, you let yourself down), and both of you fear it happening again.
He told you once that back when he played for Peoria, he was all but ready to throw caution to the wind and start a serious relationship with Cam Keith. They shared a room together on the road, and an apartment at home, and both of them knew that they were more than just a convenient fling. The whole story about how it ended breaks your heart every time you hear it. Walking through the door to see Cam, entwined with not just anyone, but a girl, broke Dennis. And even he admits that he's never been the same since.
It's almost like you with Ilya, well, almost, except the other way around. You'd never told him-never told anyone about what had happened. But you'd been so scared, so terrified of what could have been, what you (and Ilya) wanted to be, that you pushed away. He tried to hold on but you weren't having it, because love has always terrified you. Love is terrifying, there's nothing else to it. The willingness to cast aside your own well being just to see someone else happy? It's the scariest thing you have ever felt in your life. And you never want to feel it again. You should just go home, because you're sure he doesn't want to feel it either, and least of all for you.
So then, why are you in Dennis' driveway? You look up at the apartment, at the light in the sliding glass door, and sigh. Casting your gaze down, you close your eyes and shake your head. You've both been hurt, and you're both scared. But damn it, you think you might love him.
Your brain is screaming for you to just drive away. He doesn't want this, and neither do you. But, your body isn't listening as you find yourself getting out of your car and heading for the door of the duplex. Knocking on his door, you feel a bout of panic rising. What if he's with someone else? What if he called Andrew because you were an idiot and told him that you had somewhere else to be. There was nowhere else you wanted to be. Ever. But...he isn't answering. Maybe he's tied up in bed with Andrew. All of a sudden, your stomach is sick.
You turn and start to walk away, when you hear a click, and the door is open behind you. Turning your head and glancing over your shoulder, you take in a breath. There he is. You flash a smile and bite your lip. “Hey man...” you act natural, because there's no way he can ever know that you love him. “Still up for Chinese and beer?”
He shows that smile you've managed to get used to, though his face is sort of inquisitive. “What happened to your date?” he asks, opening the door and stepping out of the way so you can come inside. That's another thing you love. He's always willing to let you in.
Making your way inside, you chuckle a little. “Oh, yeah. He...wasn't my type,” you tell him. Well, it's not exactly a lie. Evan's nice and cute and everything, but he's just...not your type. He's...not Dennis. You decide to leave that little detail in your brain as you take your coat off and toss it to the chair beside the door.
He chuckles a little and turns his head to look at you, heading over to the table that the phone is on and taking it off the hook. Presumably to call for Chinese. “You have a type? I didn't think you discriminated, there, Marc...” he looks at you with a snicker, and you grin a little, because usually, he'd right in saying that. And you have no idea what is so different about now.
You smirk at him and raise a shoulder in shrug. “I'll have you know that I'm not easy...well, not to everyone, at least...” you chuckle and kick your shoes off over onto the mat by his door and make your way to flip through the channels for something for the two of you to watch.
He chuckles and makes his way over to the table with the phone in his hand. “Is that so?” he asks, that patented Dennis Wideman smirk on his face and it's making you want to melt into the couch beneath you. “I would like to know one person that you've thought of naked, that you haven't gotten into bed with, Mr. Savard.”
“You...” your mouth shoots off, before your brain can stop it, and immediately, you wish that you could stuff the word back in.
He must think you're joking, though, so he laughs and pushes the on button on the phone, dialing the Chinese place. “Touché,” he says, before putting the phone to his ear. And you almost want to throw yourself out his window.
God, he plays it off like it's nothing. But in your head? It's not nothing. It's everything, and you'll be damned if you're not more scared than you have ever been in your entire life. You listen to him place the order and the whole time, you're biting your lip, wishing that you could be as close to his lips as the phone. Wishing that you could be entangled in bed with him, laying close and sharing just a bit of breath between the two of you. You clear your throat when he hangs the phone up, then look over at him, hoping that he has something, anything to say to make this-whatever you're feeling-just go away. But the look he gives does the exact opposite.
That look on his face...that pure, innocent smile (god, how does he look so fucking innocent, because if your midnight fantasies are any indication, he's a beast in the sheets) makes your heart tangle into knots and just makes you want him even more. Your head is spinning, and before you can grasp onto any single thought, you've grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him to you, sharing that bit of breath that you wanted with him, and then even that distance is closed, and your lips are locked with his, showing him the passionate kiss that you have wanted to give him for so long.
You're scared. Scared shitless, but you don't want to push away, because his lips on yours feel so damn good. So damn good, unlike anything you've ever had. His fingers reach up and lightly play with your hair, and you're suddenly glad that you grew it out again, because that touch feels even better than just the kiss on it's own. It's intimate. Soft. And really, really foreign. And you want more. You want it all. Pulling back from the kiss for a second, you look at him, look at that smile...and your breath hitches. It's the same look that you got from Ilya in all those stolen moments, and your heart lets out an extra hard thump as your stomach knots up.
This was so much easier when you knew that you were feeling it alone.
“Dennis...I...” you stutter out, and he smiles and smooths a hand along your face. More intimacy.
You stand up. “This...this was a bad idea. I...um...” you take out your wallet and toss a twenty on the table. “For the half of the Chinese that would have been mine...I'll uh...see you at practice, okay?” you're talking faster than you ever recalled doing before, but you just need to get out of there. Out of the sudden feeling of claustrophobia and wanting more than just momentary intimacy with someone. Because Dennis wouldn't want you. You'd only hurt each other in the end, and the last thing-the last thing in the world that you want is to ever hurt him. You see the confusion on his face, but you don't think about it at all, because you know you need out. Turning quickly, you head for the door and breath a sigh of relief at the sound of it clicking closed behind you.
You went into this knowing that you love Dennis Wideman. But...now you know how much.
Can you tell me
You say that love goes anywhere
In your darkest time, it's just enough to know it's there
When you go, I'll let you be
But you're killing everything in me
Author: geekintehpink
Pairing/Characters: Marc Savard/Dennis Wideman. Mention of Ilya Kovalchuk, Cam Keith and an OC named Evan.
Rating: PG13.
Warnings: None. Well, maybe one. Angst ahoy.
Summary: Marc flip-flops more than a politician.
Word Count: 1,712
Author's Notes: Thanks honeybee718 for betaing, because she is made of the awesome.
Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen, don't sue. Kthxbai.
Alert the presses. Marc Savard walks out on chance to have sex with attractive young male. Staring at your steering wheel, you shake your head as you pull away from the guy-Evan's-apartment. Evan's hot, sure. Really hot, and for a moment, you forget about everything else. But only for a moment. Throughout dinner, your mind was elsewhere, and there's no use in denying where it was. It's the reason you set this date up to begin with. The reason you almost didn't show up, but all in all, the reason that pushed you to go. Not to mention the the reason you left. God, you didn't-no, you don't-know what it was about Dennis' voice on the phone, but it was all you could think of over the course of dinner with Evan. And when he asks you if you want to go up to his bedroom, you decide it's a good idea just to go home.
You bite your lip when you see the road that leads to Dennis' place in the distance, and even though you don't think you should, you find yourself turning down that road. And even though you're mad at yourself at first, you know that he was the reason that you left Evan's house.
On your way there, you're preparing things to say. Trying to decide why and how you want to tell him that you think he's beautiful. And how you want to tell him that he makes it all seem okay. You could just say it, you suppose. Just blurt it out and tell him that he's the most amazing person you've ever seen, and you're tired of bed hopping and want to spend your every morning and night with him. But you know better. He'd freak. You know this because you know for a fact that he's just as scared as you of loving and losing. You've both been let down (granted, you let yourself down), and both of you fear it happening again.
He told you once that back when he played for Peoria, he was all but ready to throw caution to the wind and start a serious relationship with Cam Keith. They shared a room together on the road, and an apartment at home, and both of them knew that they were more than just a convenient fling. The whole story about how it ended breaks your heart every time you hear it. Walking through the door to see Cam, entwined with not just anyone, but a girl, broke Dennis. And even he admits that he's never been the same since.
It's almost like you with Ilya, well, almost, except the other way around. You'd never told him-never told anyone about what had happened. But you'd been so scared, so terrified of what could have been, what you (and Ilya) wanted to be, that you pushed away. He tried to hold on but you weren't having it, because love has always terrified you. Love is terrifying, there's nothing else to it. The willingness to cast aside your own well being just to see someone else happy? It's the scariest thing you have ever felt in your life. And you never want to feel it again. You should just go home, because you're sure he doesn't want to feel it either, and least of all for you.
So then, why are you in Dennis' driveway? You look up at the apartment, at the light in the sliding glass door, and sigh. Casting your gaze down, you close your eyes and shake your head. You've both been hurt, and you're both scared. But damn it, you think you might love him.
Your brain is screaming for you to just drive away. He doesn't want this, and neither do you. But, your body isn't listening as you find yourself getting out of your car and heading for the door of the duplex. Knocking on his door, you feel a bout of panic rising. What if he's with someone else? What if he called Andrew because you were an idiot and told him that you had somewhere else to be. There was nowhere else you wanted to be. Ever. But...he isn't answering. Maybe he's tied up in bed with Andrew. All of a sudden, your stomach is sick.
You turn and start to walk away, when you hear a click, and the door is open behind you. Turning your head and glancing over your shoulder, you take in a breath. There he is. You flash a smile and bite your lip. “Hey man...” you act natural, because there's no way he can ever know that you love him. “Still up for Chinese and beer?”
He shows that smile you've managed to get used to, though his face is sort of inquisitive. “What happened to your date?” he asks, opening the door and stepping out of the way so you can come inside. That's another thing you love. He's always willing to let you in.
Making your way inside, you chuckle a little. “Oh, yeah. He...wasn't my type,” you tell him. Well, it's not exactly a lie. Evan's nice and cute and everything, but he's just...not your type. He's...not Dennis. You decide to leave that little detail in your brain as you take your coat off and toss it to the chair beside the door.
He chuckles a little and turns his head to look at you, heading over to the table that the phone is on and taking it off the hook. Presumably to call for Chinese. “You have a type? I didn't think you discriminated, there, Marc...” he looks at you with a snicker, and you grin a little, because usually, he'd right in saying that. And you have no idea what is so different about now.
You smirk at him and raise a shoulder in shrug. “I'll have you know that I'm not easy...well, not to everyone, at least...” you chuckle and kick your shoes off over onto the mat by his door and make your way to flip through the channels for something for the two of you to watch.
He chuckles and makes his way over to the table with the phone in his hand. “Is that so?” he asks, that patented Dennis Wideman smirk on his face and it's making you want to melt into the couch beneath you. “I would like to know one person that you've thought of naked, that you haven't gotten into bed with, Mr. Savard.”
“You...” your mouth shoots off, before your brain can stop it, and immediately, you wish that you could stuff the word back in.
He must think you're joking, though, so he laughs and pushes the on button on the phone, dialing the Chinese place. “Touché,” he says, before putting the phone to his ear. And you almost want to throw yourself out his window.
God, he plays it off like it's nothing. But in your head? It's not nothing. It's everything, and you'll be damned if you're not more scared than you have ever been in your entire life. You listen to him place the order and the whole time, you're biting your lip, wishing that you could be as close to his lips as the phone. Wishing that you could be entangled in bed with him, laying close and sharing just a bit of breath between the two of you. You clear your throat when he hangs the phone up, then look over at him, hoping that he has something, anything to say to make this-whatever you're feeling-just go away. But the look he gives does the exact opposite.
That look on his face...that pure, innocent smile (god, how does he look so fucking innocent, because if your midnight fantasies are any indication, he's a beast in the sheets) makes your heart tangle into knots and just makes you want him even more. Your head is spinning, and before you can grasp onto any single thought, you've grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him to you, sharing that bit of breath that you wanted with him, and then even that distance is closed, and your lips are locked with his, showing him the passionate kiss that you have wanted to give him for so long.
You're scared. Scared shitless, but you don't want to push away, because his lips on yours feel so damn good. So damn good, unlike anything you've ever had. His fingers reach up and lightly play with your hair, and you're suddenly glad that you grew it out again, because that touch feels even better than just the kiss on it's own. It's intimate. Soft. And really, really foreign. And you want more. You want it all. Pulling back from the kiss for a second, you look at him, look at that smile...and your breath hitches. It's the same look that you got from Ilya in all those stolen moments, and your heart lets out an extra hard thump as your stomach knots up.
This was so much easier when you knew that you were feeling it alone.
“Dennis...I...” you stutter out, and he smiles and smooths a hand along your face. More intimacy.
You stand up. “This...this was a bad idea. I...um...” you take out your wallet and toss a twenty on the table. “For the half of the Chinese that would have been mine...I'll uh...see you at practice, okay?” you're talking faster than you ever recalled doing before, but you just need to get out of there. Out of the sudden feeling of claustrophobia and wanting more than just momentary intimacy with someone. Because Dennis wouldn't want you. You'd only hurt each other in the end, and the last thing-the last thing in the world that you want is to ever hurt him. You see the confusion on his face, but you don't think about it at all, because you know you need out. Turning quickly, you head for the door and breath a sigh of relief at the sound of it clicking closed behind you.
You went into this knowing that you love Dennis Wideman. But...now you know how much.
Can you tell me
You say that love goes anywhere
In your darkest time, it's just enough to know it's there
When you go, I'll let you be
But you're killing everything in me