[Fic: Hockey RPS] This is the Longest Kiss [2/2] Joe Thornton/Roberto Luongo; PG-13
Lala, more crack highschool!AU. *hand wavy* some details are based on actual facts about Roberto and Joe, some aren't.
Disclaimer: Any events, names, and or places are entirely coincidental. Everything is entirely fiction. No harm, or offense intended.
Warnings: Uh ... crack pairings?
This is the Longest Kiss; 2/2
Joe Thornton (San Jose Sharks)/Roberto Luongo (Vancouver Canucks); 3746 words (this part); PG-13
I like the way you kiss me when we're playing the kissing game
Part Two
Okay, so … this scene right here, right now? Perfect example of a situation Roberto never wanted to be in.
Well, at least in this lifetime.
He did not want to be stuck in a room, staring across the floor at his current crush. His current, 'write his name all in caps in my notebook, with sparkly, red hearts all around it' crush, Joe Thornton. It was actually quite embarrassing, if you asked him.
His crush that was. Or was it the totally random factoids Roberto knew regarding Joe? Of course, Roberto would never admit it to anyone.
Ever.
But, if someone was to ask him 'What do you know about Joe Thornton?', Roberto was quite sure the amount of information he could spout off about him would be, well, borderline stalker-ish (or so he thought).
The only person who knew about all his hopeless pining for Joe Thornton was Alex. Sometimes Roberto thought Alex wondered if he and Cory had ended because of Roberto's crush on Joe. Alex was too polite to ever suggest it though.
Joe had transferred to their school a few weeks into the new school year, and from the very moment Joe had walked into Roberto's AP English class, he had caught Roberto's eye.
Joe made the varsity hockey team almost immediately. He also won State at his previous school for track. And, he was Principal Honour roll material.
Roberto lost count of how many times he has seen Joe leaving the Varsity locker room. Hair still damp, and curly from the showers. Sometimes, before JV practice, he would sneak up to the upper part of the rink to watch the Varsity team.
Of course, there were also the times he had 'casually' been trying to find a parking spot when Joe parks his shiny new Infiniti G37 Coupe. He doesn't think he wants to know how he came about owning such an expensive car, or why his parents would even let him drive that to school.
His crush on Joe was quite stupid, really, and Roberto hated himself for even letting himself care so much in the first place. He was always the first one to criticize those people who got all moony-eyed over someone. It was very un-Luongo-like behaviour on his part, he thought. After all, it wasn't like he was lacking in the dating department. He'd dated the star pitcher for the JV team for fuck's sake! So, why was he wasting his time pining after Varsity hockey centre, Joe Thornton?
There was absolutely no way Joe Thornton even knew he existed … did he?
Joe Thornton leaned against a desk, arms crossed across his chest, the move only accentuating the lines of his biceps and shoulders. Roberto knows there are some people who were born to fill out a pair of nicely-fitted jeans, and Joe was one of those people.
Roberto feels his heartbeat speed up, and all the blood rush to his face. It's just because of the alcohol, it's just because of the alcohol, he repeats over and over in his head.
Wait … why was there two chairs? No … there was only one. Or was it two? Shit, was the room spinning?
Okay, so maybe he was a bit more than buzzed. Oh, who was he kidding. He was really, really, fucking drunk.
Joe smiles, and eyes Roberto amusedly. "Roberto, is it?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Roberto mumbles. "What game are we supposed to be playing?"
Joe slowly walks over to Roberto, before he leans in close and whispers, "I think it was supposed to be a kissing game."
Oh, fucking shit. Once he got out of here, Alex was so dead!
Roberto glared up at Joe. He was tall, but Joe was taller. "You think?"
Joe chuckles, his breath tickling Roberto's chin. Roberto forces himself to ignore the reaction Joe's breath kicks through his system.
"Well, I highly doubt we were supposed to play twenty questions."
"You don't know that," Roberto snaps, trying his damnedest not to look at Joe in the eye. Not that he didn't want to, it was just the thought of kissing Joe was enough to make him want to bloody his fingers in an attempt to claw his way out of the door. Or do something equally as embarrassing like hyperventilate. The last time he'd done that was when he was thirteen, and for reasons entirely unrelated to a crush.
Besides, not staring at Joe stopped him from staring at the way Joe's black button-down shirt hugs his chest and shoulders.
Eventually, Roberto raises his chin defiantly, and raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are we going to do this, or what?"
Joe has the nerve to start laughing then. Roberto wishes the floor would swallow him up right then and there.
He wants to faint when he feels Joe touch a hand to his cheek, his thumb tracing a line along his cheekbone.
"What are you - what are you doing?" Roberto manages to get out.
"You don't think I go around kissing just anyone, do you, Roberto?"
"Well, I - I mean, I … what was the question again?" Roberto stutters.
Joe smirks. "Kissing just anyone isn't exactly the way I operate."
God, his voice was like silk over skin. The fluttering was back in Roberto's chest, he realized. He stamped down the feeling, and glared at Joe.
"Really? And, how, pray tell, do you operate?"
"Roberto, right?" Joe repeats.
"Does my name really matter?" Roberto returns. Fuck, he was getting dizzy. He gestures to his watch. "Alex mentioned a timer. Aren't we kinda wasting time here?"
A laugh, a light touch down his cheek, Joe's hand on the back of his neck, and Roberto is boneless.
"Your watch doesn't have a timer on it," Joe points out. He presses a feather-light kiss to Roberto's cheek. "And mine doesn't either. Besides, we don't actually know if Alex set the timer."
"But you heard him! He just -" Roberto stammered, feeling as all the heat rose to his cheeks.
He was so going to kill Alex. Alex better have his will made up, because when Roberto got through with him, his mother was going to be lucky if she recognized her first born.That was after he managed to pick his heart up off the floor.
"Roberto, look at me, hm?" Joe asks, pulling back slightly to look down at Roberto.
Grudgingly, Roberto raises his yes to Joe's. He blinks and mentally shakes himself, before he runs a hand across his face. "Yes?" he manages to get out.
"You look like a deer in headlights."
"My nickname's not Bambi!" Roberto blurts out before he can really think about it. "That's Mase's."
Joe's upper lip twitches in amusement. "Mase?"
"Mason Raymond. Curly, brown haired guy, doe-like eyes, fastest skater on the JV team, forever attached at the hip to Tanner Glass," Roberto mumbles.
"Ah," Joe muses, before he puts his hands on Roberto's shoulders. Roberto's breath catches at the movement. Joe curls his index finger under Roberto's chin and tilts his face towards his.
"Are you frightened?" Joe whispers.
There it was again. The 'sex-on-a-stick' sounding voice. Roberto's knees were turning to rubber.
He scoffs, and moves his hands to slide Joe's off his shoulders. "Of course not. Why would I be?"
"Well for one, your hand looks like it's about to fall off from the way you've been gripping the doorknob, and, the deer in headlights look you have."
Roberto's already red cheeks had to be a really nice shade of puce by now. Oh, why did he ever let Ryan give him that 'iced tea' earlier? "I'm just - I don't like cheating … I never cheat! Besides, if it was a kissing game we were supposed to be playing we're kind of defeating the purpose by standing around and talking."
Joe's lips twitch, and his brown eyes sparkle with amusement. "I suppose you're right."
"Yeah."
Roberto shrugs. "Whatever, we're wasting time. So, how do you wanna -"
"What's my name?"
Roberto's voice falters for a moment. "What?"
Joe leans in a bit closer, his lips hovering over Roberto's. "Say my name."
He averts his gaze to the floor. Cory's parents did have impeccable taste, Roberto thought. "Everyone and their mother knows your name," he mumbles in response.
"I didn't ask that."
Roberto sighs. "It's Joe. Your name is Joe."
"Better." Joe raises an eyebrow, and runs a hand through his hair, tousling it even more. "What else?"
"What do you mean 'what else'? It's not like I need to author your personal biography for a kissing game." Roberto forks a hand through his curly hair. "Jesus fuck, Joe, let's just get on with this."
Joe tilts his head, eyes Roberto like he is an item up for appraisal, and Roberto can barely stand the torture of 'is he - or isn't he'. He's about to say something, when Joe finally makes his move.
"Shh -" Joe says, his breath tickling Roberto's cheeks. "Don't say anything, and don't move."
Before Roberto can say anything else, he feels as Joe threads his fingers into his hair, and tilts Roberto's head. "Here goes nothing."
Joe steps closer, effectively pinning Roberto against the door. The cotton of his shirt rubs against the chest of Roberto's long-sleeved henley styled shirt. He runs his surprisingly soft thumb across Roberto's lips, before he leans in. Roberto swallows hard, and ignores the fluttering in his chest. He can practically see Joe's smirk, and he resists the urge to smack him for it.
Joe moved with careful, deliberately slow movements as he let the tip of his tongue run over Roberto's lower lip, before he finally let his lips touch his. And, oh … Fuck all if this kiss was nothing like he'd ever experienced with Cory.
Roberto blinks, and slides a hand down Joe's chest, scrunching the material in his fist tightly.
He has his eyes open, one hand braced on Joe's chest, while one of Joe's hands grips his wrist, thumb sliding over the pulse point, his other hand braced on the wall.
It was probably a shorter time than Roberto thought it was, when Joe pulled back, and he bites his bottom lip to stop from moaning out at the loss of contact.
Joe slides a finger down Roberto's nose, and across his cheek; touch lighter than a butterfly's wings. Roberto shivers despite himself, his hand scrunching the material of Joe's shirt tighter.
"You don't need to do that," Roberto chokes out.
"Do what?"
"Touch my cheek. Be all cute, and coy, and gentle. This is just … we're just supposed to be … I mean, this is just some stupid kissing -"
"- kissing game. Yeah, I know."
Roberto runs his tongue along his bottom lip. He can still taste Joe there. The slight tinge of sugar and mint lingering. It's a heady combination. Reminds Roberto of drinking mojitos at Ryan's Cuban themed birthday party in August. It makes Roberto dizzy. Makes him wish he'll never get the taste of Joe out of his mouth.
Joe cups Roberto's face in his palms then, and tilts his head to the side in an appraising manner. "And, what if I told you I wanted to do that?"
"I'd say you didn't ha -"
Roberto's words get cut off when Joe moves his lips over his again. This kiss is different than the last one. More demanding, less exploratory. Roberto's eyes go wide, his mouth opens, and he feels Joe's tongue as it slides over his lower lip, and licks inside. It doesn't take Roberto long before he is kissing Joe back, copying Joe's movements.
There is a muffled groan that follows this, and Roberto mentally high-fives himself. He curls an arm around Joe's neck, bringing their bodies in closer contact. He shifts slightly, his hips bumping Joe's as he does so.
Joe abruptly pulls back then, eyes blinking rapidly. "That's just …" He chews on his bottom lip.
"Whatever," Roberto says, "are we done?"
Joe's upper lip gives a slight perfunctory movement. "You tell me."
Roberto sighs. He was in no mood for games. "I'm really bad at guessing games, and the like." He tries the doorknob again, and is half-relieved when it turns. "Our time's up, probably, anyway."
He gets the door part way open, before Joe leans on it with his hand, preventing Roberto's exit. Roberto sighs in exasperation.
"Look, Joe, I'm tired, you're probably tired too, and we've already wasted enough time as it is being locked up in here. So, just let me leave, and we can forget this incident ever happened. It was fu-"
His sentence gets cut off when he feels Joe's fingers at the back of his neck, tickling the curly hair resting above the collar of his shirt. Roberto's words falter, and he blinks stupidly, effectively forgetting whatever it was he was going to say.
"The second line was really off in practice. I mean, y'think they could keep their problems out of practice. After all, Varsity's got some pretty important games coming up."
"Don't sweat it. The first and third line seemed to be clicking. And your goaltender looked great between the pipes, and -" Roberto stops talking then, and claps a hand to his mouth. Oh, fuck. "You don't … you -"
Joe gives him a knowing smile. "I'd consider another career choice. That is, if you were planning to go into some kind of stealth-type job." He crosses his arms as he eyes Roberto amusedly. "But, you know that you can sit in the lower bowl during practices, right?"
Roberto rolls his eyes, as he sighs loudly. "I like the upper bowl! I don't distract you or the team when I'm up there, and … and … that way no-one knows I'm there!"
Roberto's last comment causes Joe to double over in laughter. "I hate to break it to you, Roberto, but when I say your stealth skills suck, they really do suck." He bit his bottom lip to stop from doubling over in laughter again. "The entire Varsity squad knew you were there!"
"They did not!" Roberto tries to protest.
"Although, you are very good at hiding out. Took me nearly a month to track down your friend. Alex, I think you said his name was."
"Why did you have to find Alex?"
Joe shrugged. "Call it a little game I like called 'getting to know you'."
Roberto scoffed. "Sorry to disappoint you, but there isn't much you need to know."
He grips Roberto's wrist with his hand. "Au contrarie," Joe says. "You're half-Italian, half-Irish. Your mom works in the marketing department at one of the largest professional service firms, your dad runs a commercial construction business, you have two younger brothers who are both goalies. You've spoken French since you were young, due to the fact that you lived in Quebec for most of your young life. You played as a forward before switching to goal at twelve years of age, where you notched a shut out in your first game between the pipes. You keep that puck in your locker. You are president of the Francophone club, vice-president of the AP English book club, you're an Aries, and you drive a black Chevrolet Malibu."
Roberto takes a moment to digest the information. "Anything else?"
"Well, you do like Francophone music. A lot."
His lips thin. "You were wrong about one thing."
"What's that?"
"I notched a shut-out at eleven years old."
Joe smiles. "One out of whatever the number is isn't bad." He lets his fingers slide away from Roberto's wrist. "So, I'd say it's your turn."
"My turn?"
"What do you know about me?"
Roberto shrugs. "Not much, Joe. I mainly just watch the Varsity practices as a way to learn about what to expect when I try out next year."
"Ah. And here I was thinking you watched them for my dazzling personality."
Roberto waves his hand dismissively. "I can stop going if it bothers you, and the rest of the team. I mean, if it's that distracting."
Joe chuckles softly, and presses a hand against the back of his hair, the curls becoming mussed, and causing Roberto's throat to go dry. "You don't have to. Just, um … the upper bowl doesn't offer the best view." He shrugs. "Besides, who am I supposed to wave or smile at when I look over to the lower bowl? You're kind of, my good luck charm, Roberto." He winked. "I seem to do better at the practices you're at," he confessed.
Roberto blinks at Joe's confession, and before he can stop himself, the words tumble from his lips. "Your name is actually Joseph, you're the third of three brothers. Both your parents are close to six-feet tall. Wayne Gretzky was your second sports idol, after your older brother. You're also a track star. You won State at your old school. You're captain of the debate team. Everyone says you're Principal Honour roll material. You've read every book in our AP English class twice. You played basketball in grade eight, but quit to focus on hockey. You still watch the NBA, though. You hate everything except the baked macaroni and cheese the cafeteria sells, but you hardly ever order it because of the carb and fat content. You drive an Infiniti G37 Coupe in a gunmetal grey colour. And, you like to sing along to overly annoying pop songs when no-one, or when you think no-one else is around. Oh, and you're a Cancer."
Joe's lips are twitching, his arms crossed. "You think I listen to annoying pop songs?"
"Oh, you totally do," Roberto starts, "this week it was 'Love you Like a Love Song'. Last week it was Katy Perry's 'California Girls'."
Joe starts laughing. "We have a family dog called Gretzky. The car was a gift from my uncle. He works for Infiniti. I also like watching soccer games."
"Which teams?"
"Barcelona mostly. My family's all Arsenal die-hards, though."
Roberto eyes Joe suspiciously. "Well, I'm just going to fawn all over you now, and wonder if I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning with a killer headache, wondering if this was all a dream."
"You think this is a dream?"
"Well ... yeah! And, really, universe, if this is a dream, please, oh please, don't wake me up just yet."
"So I suppose if I told you I made a deal with your friend, Alex, to get you in here with me, that would just be another -"
"- another wonderful, but entirely fictitious aspect of my dream." Roberto blinked and narrowed his eyes in curiosity at Joe's confession. "What kind of a deal?"
Joe's face takes on a look. A look suggesting he was reminiscing about a particularly funny joke. "Oh, I owe him lunch for a week."
"My friend sold me out for lunch." Roberto groaned, and rubbed his forehead. "Somehow, I'm not all that surprised."
"Roberto," Joe starts, his index finger finding his chin again. "Look at me."
Roberto does as instructed, and grips the doorknob so he does not melt into the floor.
Joe presses a chaste kiss to Roberto's lips. "Did that kiss feel real?"
"Yes."
"Well, then I"d be inclined to say this -" Joe gestures to the space between them "- is real." Joe runs a hand down Roberto's arm, and listens as Roberto shivers. "Can I take you out sometime? I'd love to build on my 'Facts about Roberto Luongo' knowledge."
Roberto blinks. "What?"
Joe leans in, and whispers against Roberto's ear. "In layman's terms, I'm asking you out."
"You're asking me out?" Roberto exclaims.
"Yeah. I pick you up at your house, we go to dinner, a movie, or whatever you feel like. I take you home, and …"
He chews on his bottom lip as he goes over what just happened. Joe Thornton just asked him out, and … holy shit, this was so much better than his dream.
There's a knock at the door then, jarring Roberto from his thoughts. Joe is giving him a look. "Fine," Roberto starts, before he turns the doorknob, "yes, I'd like to go out with you."
Joe grins from ear to ear as he walks out of the room. Roberto is quite sure he hears Joe singing: Imma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight, and he can't help but smile as he sees Alex standing in the hall, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"Have fun?" he teases.
Roberto punches his arm. "Shut up, Burr."
~*~
The next morning finds Roberto hugging porcelain for a good hour or so, all the while cursing Ryan and his 'iced tea'. He glances blearily at his watch, and wonders how on earth he actually managed to get into his bed to begin with, before he stands up from the toilet and splashes water on his face.
He stumbles back to his bedroom, and notices his Facebook newsfeed has at least five new stories. Roberto clicks on his newsfeed to refresh the screen, and reads through the messages posted.
Ryan Kesler accepted Henrik Sedin's friend request.
Cory Schneider is in a relationship with Jannik Hansen.
Maxim Lapierre wrote ♥ on Aaron Volpatti's wall.
David Booth likes Maxim's wall post.
Alex Burrows is listed as in a relationship and it's complicated with Daniel Sedin.
Henrik Sedin likes Alex Burrows' status.
Dan Hamhuis wrote on Kevin Bieksa's wall.
Joe Thornton wants to be added to your friend's list.
Roberto's lip twitches as he clicks on the 'accept friend request' button next to Joe Thornton's name.
When he logs back onto Facebook a few hours later, there is a message in his inbox. Roberto clicks on it, and smiles almost immediately when he sees the subject line: Last Friday night, yeah we danced on tabletops, and we took too many shots.
Roberto chuckles, before he groans and clutches his head as it throbs with pain. So it wasn't a dream, he writes. I see you found me on FB.
Two minutes later: Thnxs for accepting my friend request :)
Roberto leans his head against his hand as he smiles ... No prob.
1 new message: Pick u up 2morrow @ 6 :D
Roberto does a mental fist-pump when he reads over Joe's message, before he composes his response: Wait, do you have my address?
1 new message: I have my ways. See you 2morrow. - J.
Roberto sighs, before he stumbles back into bed, a grin plastered on his face.
-»«-
<< Chapter One
This is the car I had in mind for Joe. Which is, a pretty nice car, if I do say so myself. :D
Lu's car
Disclaimer: Any events, names, and or places are entirely coincidental. Everything is entirely fiction. No harm, or offense intended.
Warnings: Uh ... crack pairings?
This is the Longest Kiss; 2/2
Joe Thornton (San Jose Sharks)/Roberto Luongo (Vancouver Canucks); 3746 words (this part); PG-13
I like the way you kiss me when we're playing the kissing game
Part Two
Okay, so … this scene right here, right now? Perfect example of a situation Roberto never wanted to be in.
Well, at least in this lifetime.
He did not want to be stuck in a room, staring across the floor at his current crush. His current, 'write his name all in caps in my notebook, with sparkly, red hearts all around it' crush, Joe Thornton. It was actually quite embarrassing, if you asked him.
His crush that was. Or was it the totally random factoids Roberto knew regarding Joe? Of course, Roberto would never admit it to anyone.
Ever.
But, if someone was to ask him 'What do you know about Joe Thornton?', Roberto was quite sure the amount of information he could spout off about him would be, well, borderline stalker-ish (or so he thought).
The only person who knew about all his hopeless pining for Joe Thornton was Alex. Sometimes Roberto thought Alex wondered if he and Cory had ended because of Roberto's crush on Joe. Alex was too polite to ever suggest it though.
Joe had transferred to their school a few weeks into the new school year, and from the very moment Joe had walked into Roberto's AP English class, he had caught Roberto's eye.
Joe made the varsity hockey team almost immediately. He also won State at his previous school for track. And, he was Principal Honour roll material.
Roberto lost count of how many times he has seen Joe leaving the Varsity locker room. Hair still damp, and curly from the showers. Sometimes, before JV practice, he would sneak up to the upper part of the rink to watch the Varsity team.
Of course, there were also the times he had 'casually' been trying to find a parking spot when Joe parks his shiny new Infiniti G37 Coupe. He doesn't think he wants to know how he came about owning such an expensive car, or why his parents would even let him drive that to school.
His crush on Joe was quite stupid, really, and Roberto hated himself for even letting himself care so much in the first place. He was always the first one to criticize those people who got all moony-eyed over someone. It was very un-Luongo-like behaviour on his part, he thought. After all, it wasn't like he was lacking in the dating department. He'd dated the star pitcher for the JV team for fuck's sake! So, why was he wasting his time pining after Varsity hockey centre, Joe Thornton?
There was absolutely no way Joe Thornton even knew he existed … did he?
Joe Thornton leaned against a desk, arms crossed across his chest, the move only accentuating the lines of his biceps and shoulders. Roberto knows there are some people who were born to fill out a pair of nicely-fitted jeans, and Joe was one of those people.
Roberto feels his heartbeat speed up, and all the blood rush to his face. It's just because of the alcohol, it's just because of the alcohol, he repeats over and over in his head.
Wait … why was there two chairs? No … there was only one. Or was it two? Shit, was the room spinning?
Okay, so maybe he was a bit more than buzzed. Oh, who was he kidding. He was really, really, fucking drunk.
Joe smiles, and eyes Roberto amusedly. "Roberto, is it?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Roberto mumbles. "What game are we supposed to be playing?"
Joe slowly walks over to Roberto, before he leans in close and whispers, "I think it was supposed to be a kissing game."
Oh, fucking shit. Once he got out of here, Alex was so dead!
Roberto glared up at Joe. He was tall, but Joe was taller. "You think?"
Joe chuckles, his breath tickling Roberto's chin. Roberto forces himself to ignore the reaction Joe's breath kicks through his system.
"Well, I highly doubt we were supposed to play twenty questions."
"You don't know that," Roberto snaps, trying his damnedest not to look at Joe in the eye. Not that he didn't want to, it was just the thought of kissing Joe was enough to make him want to bloody his fingers in an attempt to claw his way out of the door. Or do something equally as embarrassing like hyperventilate. The last time he'd done that was when he was thirteen, and for reasons entirely unrelated to a crush.
Besides, not staring at Joe stopped him from staring at the way Joe's black button-down shirt hugs his chest and shoulders.
Eventually, Roberto raises his chin defiantly, and raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are we going to do this, or what?"
Joe has the nerve to start laughing then. Roberto wishes the floor would swallow him up right then and there.
He wants to faint when he feels Joe touch a hand to his cheek, his thumb tracing a line along his cheekbone.
"What are you - what are you doing?" Roberto manages to get out.
"You don't think I go around kissing just anyone, do you, Roberto?"
"Well, I - I mean, I … what was the question again?" Roberto stutters.
Joe smirks. "Kissing just anyone isn't exactly the way I operate."
God, his voice was like silk over skin. The fluttering was back in Roberto's chest, he realized. He stamped down the feeling, and glared at Joe.
"Really? And, how, pray tell, do you operate?"
"Roberto, right?" Joe repeats.
"Does my name really matter?" Roberto returns. Fuck, he was getting dizzy. He gestures to his watch. "Alex mentioned a timer. Aren't we kinda wasting time here?"
A laugh, a light touch down his cheek, Joe's hand on the back of his neck, and Roberto is boneless.
"Your watch doesn't have a timer on it," Joe points out. He presses a feather-light kiss to Roberto's cheek. "And mine doesn't either. Besides, we don't actually know if Alex set the timer."
"But you heard him! He just -" Roberto stammered, feeling as all the heat rose to his cheeks.
He was so going to kill Alex. Alex better have his will made up, because when Roberto got through with him, his mother was going to be lucky if she recognized her first born.That was after he managed to pick his heart up off the floor.
"Roberto, look at me, hm?" Joe asks, pulling back slightly to look down at Roberto.
Grudgingly, Roberto raises his yes to Joe's. He blinks and mentally shakes himself, before he runs a hand across his face. "Yes?" he manages to get out.
"You look like a deer in headlights."
"My nickname's not Bambi!" Roberto blurts out before he can really think about it. "That's Mase's."
Joe's upper lip twitches in amusement. "Mase?"
"Mason Raymond. Curly, brown haired guy, doe-like eyes, fastest skater on the JV team, forever attached at the hip to Tanner Glass," Roberto mumbles.
"Ah," Joe muses, before he puts his hands on Roberto's shoulders. Roberto's breath catches at the movement. Joe curls his index finger under Roberto's chin and tilts his face towards his.
"Are you frightened?" Joe whispers.
There it was again. The 'sex-on-a-stick' sounding voice. Roberto's knees were turning to rubber.
He scoffs, and moves his hands to slide Joe's off his shoulders. "Of course not. Why would I be?"
"Well for one, your hand looks like it's about to fall off from the way you've been gripping the doorknob, and, the deer in headlights look you have."
Roberto's already red cheeks had to be a really nice shade of puce by now. Oh, why did he ever let Ryan give him that 'iced tea' earlier? "I'm just - I don't like cheating … I never cheat! Besides, if it was a kissing game we were supposed to be playing we're kind of defeating the purpose by standing around and talking."
Joe's lips twitch, and his brown eyes sparkle with amusement. "I suppose you're right."
"Yeah."
Roberto shrugs. "Whatever, we're wasting time. So, how do you wanna -"
"What's my name?"
Roberto's voice falters for a moment. "What?"
Joe leans in a bit closer, his lips hovering over Roberto's. "Say my name."
He averts his gaze to the floor. Cory's parents did have impeccable taste, Roberto thought. "Everyone and their mother knows your name," he mumbles in response.
"I didn't ask that."
Roberto sighs. "It's Joe. Your name is Joe."
"Better." Joe raises an eyebrow, and runs a hand through his hair, tousling it even more. "What else?"
"What do you mean 'what else'? It's not like I need to author your personal biography for a kissing game." Roberto forks a hand through his curly hair. "Jesus fuck, Joe, let's just get on with this."
Joe tilts his head, eyes Roberto like he is an item up for appraisal, and Roberto can barely stand the torture of 'is he - or isn't he'. He's about to say something, when Joe finally makes his move.
"Shh -" Joe says, his breath tickling Roberto's cheeks. "Don't say anything, and don't move."
Before Roberto can say anything else, he feels as Joe threads his fingers into his hair, and tilts Roberto's head. "Here goes nothing."
Joe steps closer, effectively pinning Roberto against the door. The cotton of his shirt rubs against the chest of Roberto's long-sleeved henley styled shirt. He runs his surprisingly soft thumb across Roberto's lips, before he leans in. Roberto swallows hard, and ignores the fluttering in his chest. He can practically see Joe's smirk, and he resists the urge to smack him for it.
Joe moved with careful, deliberately slow movements as he let the tip of his tongue run over Roberto's lower lip, before he finally let his lips touch his. And, oh … Fuck all if this kiss was nothing like he'd ever experienced with Cory.
Roberto blinks, and slides a hand down Joe's chest, scrunching the material in his fist tightly.
He has his eyes open, one hand braced on Joe's chest, while one of Joe's hands grips his wrist, thumb sliding over the pulse point, his other hand braced on the wall.
It was probably a shorter time than Roberto thought it was, when Joe pulled back, and he bites his bottom lip to stop from moaning out at the loss of contact.
Joe slides a finger down Roberto's nose, and across his cheek; touch lighter than a butterfly's wings. Roberto shivers despite himself, his hand scrunching the material of Joe's shirt tighter.
"You don't need to do that," Roberto chokes out.
"Do what?"
"Touch my cheek. Be all cute, and coy, and gentle. This is just … we're just supposed to be … I mean, this is just some stupid kissing -"
"- kissing game. Yeah, I know."
Roberto runs his tongue along his bottom lip. He can still taste Joe there. The slight tinge of sugar and mint lingering. It's a heady combination. Reminds Roberto of drinking mojitos at Ryan's Cuban themed birthday party in August. It makes Roberto dizzy. Makes him wish he'll never get the taste of Joe out of his mouth.
Joe cups Roberto's face in his palms then, and tilts his head to the side in an appraising manner. "And, what if I told you I wanted to do that?"
"I'd say you didn't ha -"
Roberto's words get cut off when Joe moves his lips over his again. This kiss is different than the last one. More demanding, less exploratory. Roberto's eyes go wide, his mouth opens, and he feels Joe's tongue as it slides over his lower lip, and licks inside. It doesn't take Roberto long before he is kissing Joe back, copying Joe's movements.
There is a muffled groan that follows this, and Roberto mentally high-fives himself. He curls an arm around Joe's neck, bringing their bodies in closer contact. He shifts slightly, his hips bumping Joe's as he does so.
Joe abruptly pulls back then, eyes blinking rapidly. "That's just …" He chews on his bottom lip.
"Whatever," Roberto says, "are we done?"
Joe's upper lip gives a slight perfunctory movement. "You tell me."
Roberto sighs. He was in no mood for games. "I'm really bad at guessing games, and the like." He tries the doorknob again, and is half-relieved when it turns. "Our time's up, probably, anyway."
He gets the door part way open, before Joe leans on it with his hand, preventing Roberto's exit. Roberto sighs in exasperation.
"Look, Joe, I'm tired, you're probably tired too, and we've already wasted enough time as it is being locked up in here. So, just let me leave, and we can forget this incident ever happened. It was fu-"
His sentence gets cut off when he feels Joe's fingers at the back of his neck, tickling the curly hair resting above the collar of his shirt. Roberto's words falter, and he blinks stupidly, effectively forgetting whatever it was he was going to say.
"The second line was really off in practice. I mean, y'think they could keep their problems out of practice. After all, Varsity's got some pretty important games coming up."
"Don't sweat it. The first and third line seemed to be clicking. And your goaltender looked great between the pipes, and -" Roberto stops talking then, and claps a hand to his mouth. Oh, fuck. "You don't … you -"
Joe gives him a knowing smile. "I'd consider another career choice. That is, if you were planning to go into some kind of stealth-type job." He crosses his arms as he eyes Roberto amusedly. "But, you know that you can sit in the lower bowl during practices, right?"
Roberto rolls his eyes, as he sighs loudly. "I like the upper bowl! I don't distract you or the team when I'm up there, and … and … that way no-one knows I'm there!"
Roberto's last comment causes Joe to double over in laughter. "I hate to break it to you, Roberto, but when I say your stealth skills suck, they really do suck." He bit his bottom lip to stop from doubling over in laughter again. "The entire Varsity squad knew you were there!"
"They did not!" Roberto tries to protest.
"Although, you are very good at hiding out. Took me nearly a month to track down your friend. Alex, I think you said his name was."
"Why did you have to find Alex?"
Joe shrugged. "Call it a little game I like called 'getting to know you'."
Roberto scoffed. "Sorry to disappoint you, but there isn't much you need to know."
He grips Roberto's wrist with his hand. "Au contrarie," Joe says. "You're half-Italian, half-Irish. Your mom works in the marketing department at one of the largest professional service firms, your dad runs a commercial construction business, you have two younger brothers who are both goalies. You've spoken French since you were young, due to the fact that you lived in Quebec for most of your young life. You played as a forward before switching to goal at twelve years of age, where you notched a shut out in your first game between the pipes. You keep that puck in your locker. You are president of the Francophone club, vice-president of the AP English book club, you're an Aries, and you drive a black Chevrolet Malibu."
Roberto takes a moment to digest the information. "Anything else?"
"Well, you do like Francophone music. A lot."
His lips thin. "You were wrong about one thing."
"What's that?"
"I notched a shut-out at eleven years old."
Joe smiles. "One out of whatever the number is isn't bad." He lets his fingers slide away from Roberto's wrist. "So, I'd say it's your turn."
"My turn?"
"What do you know about me?"
Roberto shrugs. "Not much, Joe. I mainly just watch the Varsity practices as a way to learn about what to expect when I try out next year."
"Ah. And here I was thinking you watched them for my dazzling personality."
Roberto waves his hand dismissively. "I can stop going if it bothers you, and the rest of the team. I mean, if it's that distracting."
Joe chuckles softly, and presses a hand against the back of his hair, the curls becoming mussed, and causing Roberto's throat to go dry. "You don't have to. Just, um … the upper bowl doesn't offer the best view." He shrugs. "Besides, who am I supposed to wave or smile at when I look over to the lower bowl? You're kind of, my good luck charm, Roberto." He winked. "I seem to do better at the practices you're at," he confessed.
Roberto blinks at Joe's confession, and before he can stop himself, the words tumble from his lips. "Your name is actually Joseph, you're the third of three brothers. Both your parents are close to six-feet tall. Wayne Gretzky was your second sports idol, after your older brother. You're also a track star. You won State at your old school. You're captain of the debate team. Everyone says you're Principal Honour roll material. You've read every book in our AP English class twice. You played basketball in grade eight, but quit to focus on hockey. You still watch the NBA, though. You hate everything except the baked macaroni and cheese the cafeteria sells, but you hardly ever order it because of the carb and fat content. You drive an Infiniti G37 Coupe in a gunmetal grey colour. And, you like to sing along to overly annoying pop songs when no-one, or when you think no-one else is around. Oh, and you're a Cancer."
Joe's lips are twitching, his arms crossed. "You think I listen to annoying pop songs?"
"Oh, you totally do," Roberto starts, "this week it was 'Love you Like a Love Song'. Last week it was Katy Perry's 'California Girls'."
Joe starts laughing. "We have a family dog called Gretzky. The car was a gift from my uncle. He works for Infiniti. I also like watching soccer games."
"Which teams?"
"Barcelona mostly. My family's all Arsenal die-hards, though."
Roberto eyes Joe suspiciously. "Well, I'm just going to fawn all over you now, and wonder if I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning with a killer headache, wondering if this was all a dream."
"You think this is a dream?"
"Well ... yeah! And, really, universe, if this is a dream, please, oh please, don't wake me up just yet."
"So I suppose if I told you I made a deal with your friend, Alex, to get you in here with me, that would just be another -"
"- another wonderful, but entirely fictitious aspect of my dream." Roberto blinked and narrowed his eyes in curiosity at Joe's confession. "What kind of a deal?"
Joe's face takes on a look. A look suggesting he was reminiscing about a particularly funny joke. "Oh, I owe him lunch for a week."
"My friend sold me out for lunch." Roberto groaned, and rubbed his forehead. "Somehow, I'm not all that surprised."
"Roberto," Joe starts, his index finger finding his chin again. "Look at me."
Roberto does as instructed, and grips the doorknob so he does not melt into the floor.
Joe presses a chaste kiss to Roberto's lips. "Did that kiss feel real?"
"Yes."
"Well, then I"d be inclined to say this -" Joe gestures to the space between them "- is real." Joe runs a hand down Roberto's arm, and listens as Roberto shivers. "Can I take you out sometime? I'd love to build on my 'Facts about Roberto Luongo' knowledge."
Roberto blinks. "What?"
Joe leans in, and whispers against Roberto's ear. "In layman's terms, I'm asking you out."
"You're asking me out?" Roberto exclaims.
"Yeah. I pick you up at your house, we go to dinner, a movie, or whatever you feel like. I take you home, and …"
He chews on his bottom lip as he goes over what just happened. Joe Thornton just asked him out, and … holy shit, this was so much better than his dream.
There's a knock at the door then, jarring Roberto from his thoughts. Joe is giving him a look. "Fine," Roberto starts, before he turns the doorknob, "yes, I'd like to go out with you."
Joe grins from ear to ear as he walks out of the room. Roberto is quite sure he hears Joe singing: Imma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight, and he can't help but smile as he sees Alex standing in the hall, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"Have fun?" he teases.
Roberto punches his arm. "Shut up, Burr."
~*~
The next morning finds Roberto hugging porcelain for a good hour or so, all the while cursing Ryan and his 'iced tea'. He glances blearily at his watch, and wonders how on earth he actually managed to get into his bed to begin with, before he stands up from the toilet and splashes water on his face.
He stumbles back to his bedroom, and notices his Facebook newsfeed has at least five new stories. Roberto clicks on his newsfeed to refresh the screen, and reads through the messages posted.
Ryan Kesler accepted Henrik Sedin's friend request.
Cory Schneider is in a relationship with Jannik Hansen.
Maxim Lapierre wrote ♥ on Aaron Volpatti's wall.
David Booth likes Maxim's wall post.
Alex Burrows is listed as in a relationship and it's complicated with Daniel Sedin.
Henrik Sedin likes Alex Burrows' status.
Dan Hamhuis wrote on Kevin Bieksa's wall.
Joe Thornton wants to be added to your friend's list.
Roberto's lip twitches as he clicks on the 'accept friend request' button next to Joe Thornton's name.
When he logs back onto Facebook a few hours later, there is a message in his inbox. Roberto clicks on it, and smiles almost immediately when he sees the subject line: Last Friday night, yeah we danced on tabletops, and we took too many shots.
Roberto chuckles, before he groans and clutches his head as it throbs with pain. So it wasn't a dream, he writes. I see you found me on FB.
Two minutes later: Thnxs for accepting my friend request :)
Roberto leans his head against his hand as he smiles ... No prob.
1 new message: Pick u up 2morrow @ 6 :D
Roberto does a mental fist-pump when he reads over Joe's message, before he composes his response: Wait, do you have my address?
1 new message: I have my ways. See you 2morrow. - J.
Roberto sighs, before he stumbles back into bed, a grin plastered on his face.
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This is the car I had in mind for Joe. Which is, a pretty nice car, if I do say so myself. :D
Lu's car
