Miluji tě, Vladimir (1/2)
Title: Miluji tě, Vladimir (Part 1 of 2)
Characters/pairings: Vladimir Sobotka/Marc Savard; Milan Lucic/David Krejci
Time: The 2008/09 season
Rating: R
Summary: Some questions are asked, but answers are not very forthcoming. At least, not yet.
Disclaimer: A fictional story, told only for entertainment purposes
Marc just couldn't bear the thought of the drive to Providence to see Vladimir play, even though he felt horribly guilty about it. He texted instead, let him know he'd be waiting at Vladdie's Boston apartment, and spent the evening watching some Czech movie on DVD, trying to puzzle out the plot by using the few words he knew. Some case of mistaken identity, he finally decided. Either that, or some guy had offed his own brother. Either way, it was damned depressing. Just like his mood.
He finally retreated to the bedroom and crawled under the comforter, his eyes drawn to the brass headboard he'd once been... Jesus, that had been one hell of an insane afternoon. He pulled open the drawer on the nightstand, wondering if Vladdie still had the handcuffs and ball gag, but they were conspicuously absent. He found instead a small photo album next to a Czech bible and lay back to look through it.
Pictures of Vladimir with a handsome middle-aged couple, obviously his parents; a photo of a teenage Vladdie holding a small blond girl, both of them smiling at the camera (hey, she looks like.... Oh God); a shot of an elderly couple, wreathed in smiles, whom Marc guessed were his grandparents. The middle-aged couple again with the girl (somewhat older in this shot), standing in front of a small, neat-looking house, surrounded by flowers.
Savvy finally had to give it up and tuck and album away in the drawer; the damn thing was making him even more melancholy. He picked up the bible, smiling wryly as he noted the bottle of lube lying next to it (that's Vladimir, in a nutshell), cracked it open and settled back, determined to decipher the words by context.
"'Milujte se navzájem,'" he read aloud, "'jako já jsem miloval vás.' Simple enough."
He paused, cocking his head, as he heard the door to the apartment open and close. "I'm in here, Vladdie," he called, putting the bible away. Vladimir appeared in the door of the bedroom, his blond hair mussed, swaying slightly.
"Jesus, you look exhausted, Vladimir," Marc said, sitting up straight.
"No, I'm OK," Sobotka said, dropping his equipment bag with a heavy thump and yanking his overcoat off. He dropped it on a chair, missed, shrugged, and stumbled over to the bed, where he sat down and started pulling at his shoelaces. His eyes were glassy. Savard leaned forward, concerned. "Vladdie, maybe you should stay down in Providence on game nights, y'know?"
"No!" Vladimir jerked off a shoe and threw it at the closet. "Boston is home. It's the only home I've got!"
"I'm just sayin', Vladdie -- didn't Tuukka say he has some space? You don't have to move there. Just stay there some nights. I worry about you sometimes, driving that damn road so late at night."
Sobotka muttered in Czech; something about Savvy not being his mother, and Marc smiled. "Hey, you'd feel the same way about me, wouldn't you?"
Reluctantly, Vladimir nodded and continued to disrobe. Somewhat gratified, Marc changed the subject. "How'd you do tonight?"
"Two goals, one assist. We won."
"Well, that's good."
Sobotka snorted and stood up, a fresh, nasty bruise decorating his ribs. Marc winced, and tried to think of something else to say as Vladimir headed for the bathroom.
"Hey, what happened to your cuffs and gag?" he asked.
Vladimir halted. "I... gave them to Zdeno," he said, then continued to the bathroom.
Zdeno? Marc wondered why. Vladimir reappeared moments later, crawled over him onto the far side of the bed, curled up into a ball, and heaved a sigh. Marc turned out the light and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't leave it alone.
"Vladdie?"
"Mmmph."
"Why did you give Chara your stuff?"
Sobotka sighed. "Because... we don't need them."
"I didn't think Chara was into that sort of thing."
"He's not."
"Then why did he..."
"Because... how I am." Vladimir reached back with one hand and dug his nails briefly into Marc's leg.
"I scream, Zdeno says." Marc suddenly remembered Vladimir's words from their first night together, and smiled wryly. He didn't mind Vladdie's ways one bit. Hell, he loved Vladdie's... eccentricities. So different from Kes... and then the thought struck him -- Kessel was so better suited to Zdeno. Passionate but contained. Wild but biddable. Savvy couldn't imagine Kes in cuffs and a gag. He could imagine Vladimir in them all too well.
"Vladimir," he whispered, sipping an arm around the young Czech's ribs, careful not to squeeze too hard. "You liked it, didn't you?"
A pause, then a silent nod. Marc kissed the back of his neck. "Do you... want to do it again?"
Vladimir shook his head. Marc was surprised. "Why not?"
"Not... with you," Vladdie said, his voice low. "Can we go to sleep now? Please?"
"Sure, Vladimir," Marc replied, keeping his hand on Vladdie's side until he felt the familiar spike in body temperature that, as an experienced parent, he knew signaled the advent of sleep. He closed his eyes, listening to Vladimir's soft breathing, too haunted by his own confused thoughts to sleep himself.
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"Hey, Krech?"
"Mmmmmm?"
"You sleepin'?"
"Yes, I'm sound asleep. What is it, Looch?"
"Sorry," Milan lay in bed with David, tracing the familiar path of his teammate's backbone, running his finger in a slalom down his vertebrae. "I was just wondering... do you miss Vladdie?"
"Miss him? Every time I turn around, he's sitting next to me again. I barely have time to miss him."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Then what do you mean?"
"I mean... do you miss him. Do you miss... being with him?"
"Oh," Krejci came fully awake and turned over. "I... um... I haven't really thought about it."
"I miss him. I miss you together," Milan's brow was furrowed.
"You... what? Miss us together? What do you mean?" David was confused. When had Milan ever seen him and Vladdie... together?
"I used to watch you in the locker room, on road trips -- I just liked seeing you together, hearing you talk... after a while, I kinda guessed you were... you know."
"You guessed? Were we that obvious?" Krejci suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Had anyone else guessed? If so, nobody had said a word.
"No, I don't think so," Milan looked thoughtful, missing David's distress. "I just, you know... I liked it. I... hey." He gripped Krejci's arm, finally realizing what he was saying. "Don't worry about it, Krech. Nobody has a clue. Well, except for Savvy and Chara, of course. And Kes. And Thornie and Sturmie and Andy. Well, shit. I guess a lot of the guys know, don't they?" he scratched his head, looking nonplussed, then started to laugh. Krejci joined in, forgetting his fear. He couldn't stay afraid for long when Milan was around.
"Anyway," Lucic continued. "I was just thinking how much I miss you and Vladdie, know what I mean? Even when he's around, it's not the same anymore. I was just wondering if... you know... if you felt the same way."
David squirmed internally. The honest truth was, he did miss his countryman. He missed Vladimir's lithe body, his wild lovemaking, his sharp squeals when David fucked him, the muttered Czech curses that he tried so hard to translate into English when he fucked David. He even -- God help him -- he even missed watching Zdeno nail him, how fucking turned on he got watching Vladdie writhe in Chara's grip, biting hard on the bright red gag in his mouth. Christ, he was getting aroused just thinking about it.
He licked his lips, looking at Lucic. "A little, Looch," he said. "I'll always love Vladimir, but not the way I..." he blushed. They never spoke of it. "You know. Besides, he was terrible to sleep with. Always kicking."
Milan chuckled and patted David's cheek, then rolled over and fell asleep almost at once. Krejci waited until he heard Milan's gentle snores, then reached down and grabbed his own cock. Closing his eyes, he thought of fucking Vladimir, of Zdeno fucking Vladimir, of Marc fucking Vladimir, of himself fucking Marc....
Ohmifuckinggodohfuckyeah, and he came, biting his fingers to silence himself, as Milan slept deeply beside him.