Trade rumors
Title: Trade rumors
Pairing/ characters: Vladimir Sobotka/Marc Savard; Petteri Nokelainen, David Krejci; Milan Lucic; Marco Sturm; Zdeno Chara
Rating: NC-17
Time: October 2008
Summary: The Bruins go to northern Vermont for team bonding exercises, and Vladimir stresses over trade rumors
Author's note: This is an entry in response to the lyricwheel "first time" LJ challenge. The lyrics are posted at the end of the entry. The "first time" reference is the first time that Vladimir and Marc have had to deal with the personal impact of trade rumors.
Disclaimer: A fictional story written for entertainment purposes only.
"OW!"
Marc woke up with a start, jolted out of a pleasant dream of... something... gone now... by a violent kick to the calf. "The fuck?" he aloud, turning to look at Vladdie, lost in sleep beside him. A bar of moonlight peeked between the drawn curtains, and Marc could see the young forward's eyeballs rolling violently under their closed lids. Dreaming again. I thought we were past this? He considered waking Vladimir, then decided to let him be; he seemed to have calmed, at least for the moment. Marc moved a bit closer to the edge of the bed, turned over onto his other side, and reached out to run a finger along Vladdie's jaw. Sobotka smiled in his sleep, but Marc drew a knee up to his chest. Just in case.
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"Whaddya mean, you're not playing?" Marc asked, looking at Vladimir in shock. Practice was over, and most of the Bruins were chatting happily in the locker room as they prepared to hit the links, part of their bonding exercises as the team spent three days enjoying the amenities of northern Vermont. "You told me you were taking lessons this summer. Didn't you?"
Vladimir turned pink. "I did! I just... I just don't want to play, that's all. Nokkie's going hiking. I'd rather do that."
"Rather hike than play golf?" With me? was left unspoken. Marc was absurdly hurt. Vladimir looked away. "This place reminds me of home, a little bit. I want to go hiking."
"OK, fine," Savvy shrugged and turned to Marco Sturm. "You wanna join our foursome, Sturmie? Me, Krech and Looch?"
"Sounds good," Sturm said, flashing his easy smile as Sobotka hastily hefted his equipment bag and followed Petteri Nokelainen out the door. Savard watched him go, his face registering a mixture of hurt and confusion.
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Ignoring the beauty of their surroundings, Sturm stomped around his ball, frowning and muttering German curses. The beautiful fall foliage was just an annoyance at the moment, as he was lodged securely in the rough. Krejci took advantage of the moment to pull Savard aside.
"Don't be mad at Vladdie, Marc," he said quietly. "It's not that he didn't want to play golf. It's just that... he's ashamed."
"Ashamed?" Savvy blinked. "Ashamed of what?"
"You're the best golfer on this team - hell, one of the best in the NHL, we all know that," Krejci replied, watching Sturm, who continued to mutter and stomp. "Vladdie knows he can't keep up with you. It makes him feel... what's the word? Inadequate?"
"THAT'S what's bothering him? That's ridiculous!" Savard said.
"Well, you know how competitive Vladdie is," Krejci said. "He's not the most imposing guy in the world, so that's what got him where he is now. It's just the way he is. And, you know... he wants you to be proud of him."
Marc reddened. "How Vladdie plays golf doesn't have anything to do with how I feel about him."
"I know that. But he is pretty bad, Marc. You can understand how he feels, can't you?"
"Yeah, I suppose," Marc replied. Golf came so naturally to him that he found it hard to fathom how someone as athletic and graceful as Vladimir couldn't pick it up easily. Suddenly he felt ashamed. He hadn't been thinking of Vladimir at all - only about himself. This relationship thing - with a guy, no less, 10 years younger, and from a vastly different world - was proving harder than he thought it would be. Gotta stop thinking me, me, me all the time. Stop being so damn self-centered.
Watching Savard think, Krejci bit his lip, wondering if he should reveal what Sobotka had confided during the journey north - that he was terrified of being traded and worried about being demoted. Competition was proving to be ferocious for spots on the big club, especially among the forwards, and Vladdie was definitely on the bubble. He decided against saying anything. Vladimir would talk to Marc about it eventually. He had to.
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"Take my hand, Vladdie!" Nokelainen reached down, extending his arm, as Sobotka hauled himself up the last few feet of granite. Vladimir reached up, and his teammate yanked hard, pullling him to a shelf of rock. "Look at that!" Petteri cried.
"Wow," Vladimir panted, gazing out at the rolling hills stretched out below, a riot of colors all the way to the blue horizon. "It's beautiful."
Nokkie sat on the rock and pulled out a water bottle. He drank deeply and handed it to Sobotka. "Remind you of home?"
"A little," Vladimir said, drinking gratefully. "Except for the colors. How about you?"
"Not at all," Nokelainen said, shaking his head. "I grew up near the coast. Doesn't look anything like this."
"You ever get homesick, Nokkie?" Sobotka asked.
Petteri considered. "Sometimes. A little. Mostly for small things, like the food. Or the language. At least you have David."
Vladdie nodded. "He wants to speak English, though, all the time. He says you have to think in English, stop thinking in Czech."
"He's right. How are you doing with it?"
"Good. Better. Starting to dream in English now."
"That's good. A good step."
The two players sat quietly, gazing out over the Vermont countryside, basking in the sunshine. Vladimir wondered if he should ask, then decided he wanted to know.
"Nokkie... what was it like to be traded?"
Petteri considered again. "Shocking, at first. I expected it, but it still surprised me. It hurt. But you have to think that someone wants you. The Bruins wanted me. I'm glad I'm a Bruin, now. Are you worried, Vladdie?"
Sobotka just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wasn't worried - he was terrified. He'd never thought about it before, never considered the possibility, never worried about it. Now everything was different. All because of Marc. He HAD to stay with the Bruins. His heart couldn't stand leaving Boston.
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The two hikers were clomping through the lobby of the hotel when a copy of the Boston Herald, open on a lobby table to a story about the Bruins, caught Vladimir's eye. He waved to Petteri, who continued on to his room, and tacked over to pick up the paper.
Trade rumor... salary cap hit.... agent says... Marc Savard...
MARC SAVARD?!!?
Stunned, Sobotka tried to focus on the story. A blockbuster deal involving the Bruins' top point-scorer was reportedly in the works. Boston was in need of a puck-moving defenseman. Savard's agent was quoted, saying he wasn't surprised. Vladimir's head started to spin. No... not Marc... no way... He dropped the paper and pulled out his cell phone, hit the speed dial for Savvy, then snapped it shut in frustration as the phone asked for a message. He's golfing, turned it off. He headed for the elevators, looking for someone, anyone on the team to tell him this was ridiculous.
The hallway was deserted, most of the rooms empty. He and Nokkie were apparently the first ones back. Vladimir looked at his watch, realized he was covered with mud and sweat, and decided to take a shower, then try to find Zdeno Chara. If anyone would know what was going on, it was Zdeno.
.
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Steam was still hanging in the bathroom of their room when Savard returned, nearly tripping over the muddy hiking boots near the door. "Dammit, Vladdie," he said, looking around the room. "Where the hell are you?" Shrugging, he took a shower himself, figuring he'd track down the young Czech in time for dinner.
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Vladimir knocked at Zdeno Chara's door, but there was no answer. Sighing, he wandered down the hall, following the sound of hooting laughter and Czech curses. The door was open to Milan and David's room, and the two second-year players were engaged in a game of NHL 08. As he watched, Vancouver scored on Boston. David swore as Milan threw his arms in the air. "Hat trick!" he shouted, then "Hey, Vladdie, how was the hike?"
"Fine," Sobotka said. "Have you seen Zee?"
"No," Krejci said. "What are you doing for dinner?"
Sobotka shrugged. "I just want to talk to Chara."
"Don't know what to tell you, Vladdie," Lucic said. "Haven't seen him. Marc's back - he should be in your room."
"I don't want to talk to Marc right now," Sobotka said.
Krejci and Lucic exchanged a quick look. "You OK, Vladdie?" Lucic asked.
"I'm fine," Sobotka said, turning abruptly. The last thing he wanted was the third degree from Milan and David. "I have to find Zee."
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Remembering that the hotel boasted an expansive garden, Sobotka went outside. Paydirt, The Bruins captain was sitting in an Adirondack chair, his eyes closed, apparently listening to the humming of bees as they worked at the late mums. He opened his eyes and smiled as Vladimir approached.
"What's up, Vladdie?" he asked, patting a stool in front of his chair.
Obediently, Vladimir sat down, took a deep breath and got straight to the point. "Did you hear about Marc being traded?"
"Vladimir, for God's sake, Marc's not being traded. Where did you hear such a thing?"
"The Herald had a story. Marc's agent said..."
"How many times, Vladimir Sobotka, have I told you to use your head? We have trouble scoring. Marc is our best offensive player. The Bruins would no more trade him than they would me. And Marc has a no-trade clause. You think he'd choose to leave the Bruins? You think he'd choose to leave YOU?"
Sobotka turned red. "I... I don't know..."
"I DO know, Vladimir. And I'm telling you it's not going to happen. And you aren't getting traded either, so stop worrying about it. You have a small salary, and you're a good player, so they're going to hold on to you."
Overwhelmed, Sobotka suddenly found himself close to tears. "Zee, I've been so scared. Every moment has been so hard..."
"I know, Vladdie. You've been playing like a man possessed in this training camp. The coaches have noticed. The cuts are still a few days away, but you've earned your spot. I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't believe it to be true."
Sobotka smiled and bit his lip, looking up at Chara through damp eyelashes. Chara shook his head, swore softly to himself, and patted the youngster on the cheek. "Now get the hell out of here before I do something I regret," he said.
Vladimir laughed. "Thanks, Zee," he said, getting up and scampering off. Suddenly it was imperative that he find Marc.
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"Where the fuck is that goddam Czech?" Savard muttered to himself, wandering the halls of the hotel. "Hey, you guys seen Vladdie?" he asked at the door of Lucic and Krejci's room. Milan was channel-surfing, while David was studying his laptop.
"Um, yeah," Lucic replied. "He was looking for Chara."
"Chara?"
"Yeah... Vladdie seemed kinda upset about something. I dunno what."
Golf? Savard wondered. Still? Nah, that wouldn't warrant a talk with Zdeno. Had to be something else. But what? "Thanks," he said, and started to wander off, only to be halted by Krejci's sudden cry. "Savvy! Did you see this?"
Savard turned back, entered the room and looked over David's shoulder at the computer screen. His own name and photo were on display, with the headine SAVARD HEADED OUT?
"What the FUCK?" he said, stunned. "My agent... what the FUCK!?"
"Gee, I wonder if Vladimir saw that?" Lucic said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, FUCK!" Savard shouted, running out of the room, pulling out his cell phone as he went, hitting the speed dial for his agent.
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"So you're saying they haven't talked to you? Then what the fuck ARE you saying? That other clubs are asking? Isn't that normal? No, I DON'T want to keep my options open, dammit! I want to stay here! For fuck's sake, don't do that again! Just tell them to piss off! And tell them I said so! Yes! Goodbye!"
Marc slammed his phone shut and banged the door to his room open at the same moment, startling Vladimir, who jumped and spun around to face him. Savvy stood in the door, chest heaving, face flushed, staring at his young teammate, who looked uncannily like a young deer poised for flight.
"Vladimir," he said. My Vladimir.
"Marc," he replied, eyeing him warily. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just off the phone with my dumbass agent. Telling him not to talk to the fucking media anymore."
Sobokta smiled. "Trade rumors..."
"Just a fucking rumor. No truth. I'm not going anywhere, Vladdie. You've got to believe that."
"I believe it. And neither am I. Zee told me."
"Hell, I could have told you that, Vladdie. Don't hide your feelings from me, please. It's not all about me, you know. It can't be all about me. I can't be selfish anymore."
"Marc, you're not... "
"I AM, dammit, I am! And I'm sick of it! I'm not the goddam star in this relationship! It's both of us, or nothing!"
Vladimir grinned, then started to laugh. Marc grinned back and crossed the room in an instant, throwing his arms around the beguiling young Czech. "Goddam, you drive me crazy sometimes!"
"Only sometimes?" Sobotka asked, dipping his head and biting at Savard's neck.
"OK, always," Marc replied, yanking Vladimir down to the bed and kissing him, hard, pushing their hips together, feeling Sobotka's hardness. "Damn, you're always fucking ready, aren't you?"
"Hell yeah," Vladdie breathed, shoving his tongue into Marc's mouth, thrusting his hips upward. "For you, always."
Marc lifted his head up and pulled Vladimir's shirt off, then dipped his head to bite at his smooth chest. He ran his tongue down, along Vladdie's ribs, making him squrim and try to stifle giggles, then pulled hard at his pants, ripping them off impatiently.
"Fuck golf, fuck hiking, fuck team bonding, I just wanna stay in this room and fuck you until you scream," he muttered, ripping his own clothes off as quickly as possible before diving back onto the beautiful body stretched below him. He took Vladdie's stiff cock into his mouth, making his partner gasp, and shoved his head down, hard, deep-throating him as he never had before. He was determined to pleasure Vladimir as much as he possibly could, and worked to move him as close as possible to the brink of orgasm before lifting his head and reaching for the bottle of lube in the nightstand.
Eyes dialated so wide they looked black rather than blue, Vladimir, chest heaving, opened his legs as Marc lubed his own throbbing cock, knowing nothing would make the young Czech come faster and harder than Marc's cock up his ass. He loved being filled, and Savvy loved filling him, loved the feel of Sobotka's arms around him, legs encircling his hips, chest heaving against his own, watching Vladdie bite his own lips in a vain attempt to stifle his cries, throw his head back and expose that vulnerable throat, shriek in ecstacy as his orgasm rocked him, body jerking as his cock pumped hot come onto his chest. The feel of Vladimir's body, the knowledge that it was his cock, his hips, his mouth driving him into insanity, sent Savvy over the edge, and he tumbled into the land of orgasm, his cock pumping inside Vladdie, his hips jerking with the effort, his mouth dropping open in a soundless scream.
They lay together long afterwards, sweaty, panting, unwilling to break the bond. Finally Vladimir's stomach growled, sending them both into paroxyms of laughter. "Guess we'd better get cleaned up for dinner, eh?" Marc said. Vladimir nodded. "Where do you want to go?" Marc shook his head. "Your choice, Vladdie. And remind me to say that more often."
I asked her to stay
But she wouldn't listen
She left before I had the chance to say (Oh-oh)
The words that would mend
The things that were broken
But now it's far too late, she's gone away
Every night she cried herslef to sleep
Thinking: "Why does this happen to me?
Why does every moment have to be so hard?"
Hard to believe it
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make you right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
The taste of her breath, I'll never get over
The noises that she made kept me awake (Oh)
The weight of the things that remained unspoken
Built up so much it crushed us everyday
Every night you she cried herself to sleep
Thinking: "Why does this happen to me?
Why does every moment have to be so hard?"
Hard to believe it
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make you right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you (Oh-oh-oh-oh)
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make you right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you (Oh-oh-oh-oh)
Of all the things I felt but never really showed
Perhaps the worst is that I ever let you go
I should not ever let you go (oh-oh-oh)
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make you right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you (oh-oh-oh-oh)
It's not over tonight
Just give me one chance to make you right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
I won't go home without you