Yesterday seems like a life ago.
Title: Yesterday seems like a life ago
Rating; Warnings: Somewhere between R and NC-17.
Pairing: Sidney Crosby / Colby Armstrong
Disclaimer: Not true that I know of.
Comments: This hurt me to write but for some reason I still did it. Dedicated to more_unknown because she had the heart to beta it. This might crush your soul. Apologies beforehand.
The hotel room was familiar in the way that all hotel rooms are when you’ve been in enough. It smelled like Lysol and too much fabric softener and the hundreds of people who had been there before. The carpeting was oily and still had streaks left from the last vacuum cleaner that ran through. The translucent thread, like fishing wire, looped out randomly from the starchy comforter. Colby pulled at it absentmindedly as I hung my suit jacket on a hanger in the closet, the room quiet except for the clanging of metal as I tried to keep it from sliding off and onto the floor.
I turned around and smiled easily, his face so familiar to me as he looked up to see what I was doing, mouth half open and eyes momentarily questioning. I walked towards him, unsnapping the metal hinge on my watch so that I could set it on the night stand. I nodded to the small attached room that housed the kitchenette. “Want something to drink?”
“Yeah, sure.” He stood and followed behind me to the kitchen. I grabbed two waters from the fridge and handed him one before leaning against the counter behind me. I noticed him closing his eyes, his shoulders rising with a deep breath, and for a moment a small smile crossed his face before he exhaled and opened his eyes again. “It’s really good to be here. To be here with you, I mean. Even if…” He trailed off, stopped, closed his eyes for a second again. Not long enough that I was supposed to notice, but long enough that he knew I had. He smiled when he realized, and nodded his head a little. “You know.”
I nodded in agreement, smiled sadly. “I know.” We had both caved into this temptation too many times, let ourselves believe it would work itself out too often. We were getting too old for this; we weren’t kids anymore. At this point we didn’t even really know one another; we were just a memory of what had been when things were at their best. I wouldn’t have wanted to know the new him anyway. I was too in love with who he had been. With what we had been. Tonight would be the last time we said goodbye, and we both knew it.
I set my water on the counter and stepped towards him. I put my hand softly on the side of his face, found his lips with mine. It was like it always was. I was eighteen again, he was twenty-two and we were shaking with fear and anticipation for what would happen next. Back before everything was different, before things changed and we were forced to grow up without warning on so many different occasions. When his body was still a mystery I was on the verge of discovering. He was my best friend. He was so much more.
I put an arm around his waist and gently pulled him closer, the way he had done to me that first night. The times had changed us; he feared this more than I did. At the time I had feared what I knew was true, that my life would never be the same with him in it in this way. This time it was his breath that was shaking against me as I softly drug my lips across his neck, kissing each of the spots I knew goodbye, cherishing each final taste of his skin. I raised my head and looked him in the eyes for a moment. He smiled, sincerely, and I knew the fear didn’t spring from doubt, only nerves. I understood. The life waiting for us outside of this room was something scarier, lonelier than the one we had walked in from. But we would deal with that later. I kissed him again.
We found our way back into the bedroom. As we stood next to the bed, he gently unbuttoned my shirt before sliding it off of my shoulders and tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. I helped him take off my undershirt and we added it to the pile and he looked me over for a minute, as though he were studying me for a quiz he would have to take later. He kissed my shoulder softly before I reached to take off his t-shirt. He drew my belt from my pants, the metal clicking against itself as it hit the floor, the loudest thing in the room apart from our breathing. Those noises would be immortalized in my mind, what I would remember about this moment. The crinkling of fabric as my slacks fell to the floor. The button of his jeans hitting the wooden arm of the chair, the snapping of elastic, the stillness as we stood there naked in one another’s company, almost afraid to touch, afraid to make the moment move any faster.
Colby took charge of the moment, the way I had come to expect him to over the years. He pressed me back onto the bed, crawling on top of me as I made my way to the center. His skin was warm and I wondered if mine was cold, something I had often asked him. His answer was always no. Somewhere along the line I had stopped asking, and I wondered for a moment when it was. Years ago, probably, I must have forgotten the tradition between months apart and missed opportunities. I was afraid to think about timelines, so I just closed my eyes and tried to focus on his mouth, trailing along my collarbone, leaving trails of cooling flesh with his tongue. I squirmed when he bit me at the corner of my jawbone, the place that only he knew. He looked up and grinned, humored in the fact that he could get me in that way, an ability that had come with time, those first few months when he only wanted to learn. It was always “teach me where,” or “show me how.” He was building something he could trust to last.
He nuzzled my cheek, and his skin was soft against mine. Neither of us could ever master the art of growing facial hair, our boyish features just not designed for it. He kissed my cheek before steadying himself, gasping softly as he pressed into me. The feeling made me clench my teeth and grab at his sides, pressing my head back into the bed as he at first strained, and then found a rhythm. I adjusted to his movements, familiar and slow, quickly losing myself in feeling as we rocked against one another.
Panting into my ear as he increased his pace, Colby whispered the things I had always loved hearing, affirmations that I was wanted, that someone needed me for reasons other than carrying their team to a Cup, leading their players to victory. I called out for him as he thrust harder, breathing his name as I dug my nails into the skin of his back. I was eighteen and he was twenty-two. He was the veteran, as far as I was concerned, with experience in the organization that I hadn’t yet seen. I was just some over hyped kid who never expected to live up to anyone’s expectations. He was smiling at me across from the table after preseason practice. He was leading me to his apartment after our first game. He was my best friend. He was so much more. His skin was slick with sweat as I kissed his shoulder, he tasted the same as he had then, but it meant so much more. It was the first time and somehow, it had become the last time. Had I known then what we would become, would I have stepped into his room? Doubtless.
“I have always loved you, Sidney.” Colby said it, not without a little extra concentration on his part. I smiled at him and raised a hand to run through his damp hair. I knew it was true, had always known it was true. He first told me he loved me when we lost our tenth game straight in my first season, standing across the room from me as I raged, stopping me in my tracks. I thought he was the only person in the world who still thought I could be something. Sometimes I still thought that, and I knew the thought would cross my mind in the future. I could raise the Cup a dozen times and the world would still doubt me after every loss. Colby, he always trusted me. At least with the most important things, he did.
“Love you too, Colbs,” I whispered, and I wasn’t sure if he heard. He didn’t need to. He knew.
We were rapidly reaching the end, sharp breaths and hurried kisses foreshadowing the end. I tried not to let my head swim so much that I would miss this feeling, but in doing so I knew I wouldn’t experience it the way I should. I let myself go, fully resigned to the feeling, grasping onto him and screaming out. He moaned and trembled into his orgasm, overlapping with my own as I eagerly clawed at him in ecstasy, forgetting myself in the feeling. He collapsed down onto me as I panted in exhaustion, lazily raising my hand to stroke his back.
After a moment he rolled over to be beside me, staring at me wide-eyed, as though he couldn’t believe something. I smiled at him and reached out to touch his face. He closed his eyes and moved into the touch, holding his breath for a second and then exhaling into a tired smile. He curled his body up against me in the way we fit so well together, the puzzle piece I was about to lose. I fell asleep like that, trying to memorize the lines of his body, as though they were anything I could ever forget.
I wasn’t eighteen and he wasn’t twenty-two. That was before we fell asleep after sex, when he would challenge me to video games before we went at it again. When he’d throw popcorn at me from the doorway to get me out of bed, all riled up and ready to attack. When he’d turn on Ellen just to make me angry, and laugh at me until he was in tears as I searched for the remote. Those days when I didn’t just know all of the physical details, the curves and hollows of his body, but when I knew him. When I knew how to talk to him about things other than what had been, and when feeling especially sorry for ourselves, what could have been. Before the years and the distance came between us. Before we were just mementos of better times to one another. Maybe not better. But certainly different.
In the morning I woke up and showered, dressing in the clothes I had brought. I gently woke him, and he looked momentarily confused to see me, but then nodded. It was still dark outside as he dressed in the clothes he had worn in, and we walked towards the door together. We looked over one another in the doorway, one last chance to say anything that needed to be said. But we had said it all, had said everything we would need to say over our years together.
I was heading out of the door to the most important game of the year, a chance for another victory they all needed me to get. He was heading out into the offseason, the chance to regroup and try again next year. We both knew that the one thing we would have in common is not having one another. He wouldn’t call me if the Saskatoon summer’s slow pace got to him, wouldn’t expect me to rush to his aid with a case of beer and a plan. I wouldn’t be calling him that night if the champagne bottles were broken out, wouldn’t expect him to rush to my side in celebration as he suppressed any feelings of jealousy in favor of happiness of me. We didn’t have to be that person for one another anymore.
I leaned in to kiss him that last time, everything about it magnified by the thought that it would never happen again. And when I pulled away, he smiled, and so did I. It was the answer to any stray questions I had, any doubts that had hidden away in strongholds in my mind. It was a smile of relief.
I opened the door; ready for whatever was next, knowing he wasn’t a part of it anymore.
Rating; Warnings: Somewhere between R and NC-17.
Pairing: Sidney Crosby / Colby Armstrong
Disclaimer: Not true that I know of.
Comments: This hurt me to write but for some reason I still did it. Dedicated to more_unknown because she had the heart to beta it. This might crush your soul. Apologies beforehand.
The hotel room was familiar in the way that all hotel rooms are when you’ve been in enough. It smelled like Lysol and too much fabric softener and the hundreds of people who had been there before. The carpeting was oily and still had streaks left from the last vacuum cleaner that ran through. The translucent thread, like fishing wire, looped out randomly from the starchy comforter. Colby pulled at it absentmindedly as I hung my suit jacket on a hanger in the closet, the room quiet except for the clanging of metal as I tried to keep it from sliding off and onto the floor.
I turned around and smiled easily, his face so familiar to me as he looked up to see what I was doing, mouth half open and eyes momentarily questioning. I walked towards him, unsnapping the metal hinge on my watch so that I could set it on the night stand. I nodded to the small attached room that housed the kitchenette. “Want something to drink?”
“Yeah, sure.” He stood and followed behind me to the kitchen. I grabbed two waters from the fridge and handed him one before leaning against the counter behind me. I noticed him closing his eyes, his shoulders rising with a deep breath, and for a moment a small smile crossed his face before he exhaled and opened his eyes again. “It’s really good to be here. To be here with you, I mean. Even if…” He trailed off, stopped, closed his eyes for a second again. Not long enough that I was supposed to notice, but long enough that he knew I had. He smiled when he realized, and nodded his head a little. “You know.”
I nodded in agreement, smiled sadly. “I know.” We had both caved into this temptation too many times, let ourselves believe it would work itself out too often. We were getting too old for this; we weren’t kids anymore. At this point we didn’t even really know one another; we were just a memory of what had been when things were at their best. I wouldn’t have wanted to know the new him anyway. I was too in love with who he had been. With what we had been. Tonight would be the last time we said goodbye, and we both knew it.
I set my water on the counter and stepped towards him. I put my hand softly on the side of his face, found his lips with mine. It was like it always was. I was eighteen again, he was twenty-two and we were shaking with fear and anticipation for what would happen next. Back before everything was different, before things changed and we were forced to grow up without warning on so many different occasions. When his body was still a mystery I was on the verge of discovering. He was my best friend. He was so much more.
I put an arm around his waist and gently pulled him closer, the way he had done to me that first night. The times had changed us; he feared this more than I did. At the time I had feared what I knew was true, that my life would never be the same with him in it in this way. This time it was his breath that was shaking against me as I softly drug my lips across his neck, kissing each of the spots I knew goodbye, cherishing each final taste of his skin. I raised my head and looked him in the eyes for a moment. He smiled, sincerely, and I knew the fear didn’t spring from doubt, only nerves. I understood. The life waiting for us outside of this room was something scarier, lonelier than the one we had walked in from. But we would deal with that later. I kissed him again.
We found our way back into the bedroom. As we stood next to the bed, he gently unbuttoned my shirt before sliding it off of my shoulders and tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. I helped him take off my undershirt and we added it to the pile and he looked me over for a minute, as though he were studying me for a quiz he would have to take later. He kissed my shoulder softly before I reached to take off his t-shirt. He drew my belt from my pants, the metal clicking against itself as it hit the floor, the loudest thing in the room apart from our breathing. Those noises would be immortalized in my mind, what I would remember about this moment. The crinkling of fabric as my slacks fell to the floor. The button of his jeans hitting the wooden arm of the chair, the snapping of elastic, the stillness as we stood there naked in one another’s company, almost afraid to touch, afraid to make the moment move any faster.
Colby took charge of the moment, the way I had come to expect him to over the years. He pressed me back onto the bed, crawling on top of me as I made my way to the center. His skin was warm and I wondered if mine was cold, something I had often asked him. His answer was always no. Somewhere along the line I had stopped asking, and I wondered for a moment when it was. Years ago, probably, I must have forgotten the tradition between months apart and missed opportunities. I was afraid to think about timelines, so I just closed my eyes and tried to focus on his mouth, trailing along my collarbone, leaving trails of cooling flesh with his tongue. I squirmed when he bit me at the corner of my jawbone, the place that only he knew. He looked up and grinned, humored in the fact that he could get me in that way, an ability that had come with time, those first few months when he only wanted to learn. It was always “teach me where,” or “show me how.” He was building something he could trust to last.
He nuzzled my cheek, and his skin was soft against mine. Neither of us could ever master the art of growing facial hair, our boyish features just not designed for it. He kissed my cheek before steadying himself, gasping softly as he pressed into me. The feeling made me clench my teeth and grab at his sides, pressing my head back into the bed as he at first strained, and then found a rhythm. I adjusted to his movements, familiar and slow, quickly losing myself in feeling as we rocked against one another.
Panting into my ear as he increased his pace, Colby whispered the things I had always loved hearing, affirmations that I was wanted, that someone needed me for reasons other than carrying their team to a Cup, leading their players to victory. I called out for him as he thrust harder, breathing his name as I dug my nails into the skin of his back. I was eighteen and he was twenty-two. He was the veteran, as far as I was concerned, with experience in the organization that I hadn’t yet seen. I was just some over hyped kid who never expected to live up to anyone’s expectations. He was smiling at me across from the table after preseason practice. He was leading me to his apartment after our first game. He was my best friend. He was so much more. His skin was slick with sweat as I kissed his shoulder, he tasted the same as he had then, but it meant so much more. It was the first time and somehow, it had become the last time. Had I known then what we would become, would I have stepped into his room? Doubtless.
“I have always loved you, Sidney.” Colby said it, not without a little extra concentration on his part. I smiled at him and raised a hand to run through his damp hair. I knew it was true, had always known it was true. He first told me he loved me when we lost our tenth game straight in my first season, standing across the room from me as I raged, stopping me in my tracks. I thought he was the only person in the world who still thought I could be something. Sometimes I still thought that, and I knew the thought would cross my mind in the future. I could raise the Cup a dozen times and the world would still doubt me after every loss. Colby, he always trusted me. At least with the most important things, he did.
“Love you too, Colbs,” I whispered, and I wasn’t sure if he heard. He didn’t need to. He knew.
We were rapidly reaching the end, sharp breaths and hurried kisses foreshadowing the end. I tried not to let my head swim so much that I would miss this feeling, but in doing so I knew I wouldn’t experience it the way I should. I let myself go, fully resigned to the feeling, grasping onto him and screaming out. He moaned and trembled into his orgasm, overlapping with my own as I eagerly clawed at him in ecstasy, forgetting myself in the feeling. He collapsed down onto me as I panted in exhaustion, lazily raising my hand to stroke his back.
After a moment he rolled over to be beside me, staring at me wide-eyed, as though he couldn’t believe something. I smiled at him and reached out to touch his face. He closed his eyes and moved into the touch, holding his breath for a second and then exhaling into a tired smile. He curled his body up against me in the way we fit so well together, the puzzle piece I was about to lose. I fell asleep like that, trying to memorize the lines of his body, as though they were anything I could ever forget.
I wasn’t eighteen and he wasn’t twenty-two. That was before we fell asleep after sex, when he would challenge me to video games before we went at it again. When he’d throw popcorn at me from the doorway to get me out of bed, all riled up and ready to attack. When he’d turn on Ellen just to make me angry, and laugh at me until he was in tears as I searched for the remote. Those days when I didn’t just know all of the physical details, the curves and hollows of his body, but when I knew him. When I knew how to talk to him about things other than what had been, and when feeling especially sorry for ourselves, what could have been. Before the years and the distance came between us. Before we were just mementos of better times to one another. Maybe not better. But certainly different.
In the morning I woke up and showered, dressing in the clothes I had brought. I gently woke him, and he looked momentarily confused to see me, but then nodded. It was still dark outside as he dressed in the clothes he had worn in, and we walked towards the door together. We looked over one another in the doorway, one last chance to say anything that needed to be said. But we had said it all, had said everything we would need to say over our years together.
I was heading out of the door to the most important game of the year, a chance for another victory they all needed me to get. He was heading out into the offseason, the chance to regroup and try again next year. We both knew that the one thing we would have in common is not having one another. He wouldn’t call me if the Saskatoon summer’s slow pace got to him, wouldn’t expect me to rush to his aid with a case of beer and a plan. I wouldn’t be calling him that night if the champagne bottles were broken out, wouldn’t expect him to rush to my side in celebration as he suppressed any feelings of jealousy in favor of happiness of me. We didn’t have to be that person for one another anymore.
I leaned in to kiss him that last time, everything about it magnified by the thought that it would never happen again. And when I pulled away, he smiled, and so did I. It was the answer to any stray questions I had, any doubts that had hidden away in strongholds in my mind. It was a smile of relief.
I opened the door; ready for whatever was next, knowing he wasn’t a part of it anymore.