[fic] Eight Nights (3/8)(4/8)(5/8)
...I'm behind. I know. I fail at life. Sorry, Lishka.
So here's three in one!
First Night
Second Night
Title: Eight Nights (part 3 of 8)
Author: creepy_crawly
Rating: PG, for now.
Characters/Those Involved: Kari Lehtonen/Tobias Enstrom
Warnings: Hockey. Slash.
Disclaimer:Ha. This will be eight nights of me pretending. Weee!
Summary: How much can a relationship change in eight days? Well, lucky for us, Truse’s Eight Steps To Love fits right in. Mazel tov! (This is a gift-fic for Lishka, who needs to get an El-Jay)
Third Night
“Ain’t no river wide enough,” Bryan sang, shooting a wink at the blonde skating a few feet in front of him. “To keep me from gettin’ to you, babe.”
“There better not be, Little,” the woman snickered. “Not with a voice like that.”
Kari grinned across at Moose, skating lazily down the rink. “She hasn’t heard him at his best yet, has she?”
“Not unless she’s been in the showers, no,” Tobi answered, sliding past them quickly, skating backwards. “She wouldn’t go out with him if she had.”
Kari laughed quietly. “Like you’re any better.”
“Oh, but I am,” Tobi replied, smirking.
“He’s got a nice tenor,” Moose said, quirking an eyebrow at the two younger blonds. “The girls make him sing them lullabies.”
“Helps that I know ‘em all in Swedish,” Tobi added. Grinning, he spun around so that he was moving forwards. “Nothing sounds as good as a Swedish tenor.”
“Finnish bass,” Kari shot back.
“Bass?” the defenseman asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Kari nodded. “According to my sister, anyway. And she’d know. She teaches choir.”
The young Swede laughed slightly. “All my family knows is hockey, honestly. Well, that, and video games. Tina kicks my ass at anything that can be played on a PS3.”
The taller man snickered. “Your little sister?”
A grim scowl blossomed across Tobi’s face. “Hey. She’s mean. And she’s had five of us to practice against. When she was really little, we all told her secret cheats we’d figured out so that she’d have an edge against the other four. Only, turns out, if everyone tells one person their secrets, that one person has years of blackmail.”
Kari laughed outright. “Tell you what,” he snorted. “You can try and beat me.”
Looking up, Tobi grinned. “You’re on.”
Title: Eight Nights (part 4 of 8)
Author: creepy_crawly
Rating: Moving up to PG-13!
Characters/Those Involved: Kari Lehtonen/Tobias Enstrom
Warnings: Hockey. Slash.
Disclaimer:Ha. This will be eight nights of me pretending. Weee!
Summary: How much can a relationship change in eight days? Well, lucky for us, Truse’s Eight Steps To Love fits right in. Mazel tov! (This is a gift-fic for Lishka, who needs to get an El-Jay)
Fourth Night
“I feel awful,” Kari whimpered, pressing his hot face against the cool Plexiglas. He kept his eyes cracked; as much as the light hurt, closing his eyes cued the world to spin faster than ever, and he was having a hard enough time staying on his feet as it was.
“Hangovers tend to do that to you, Lehts,” Brad McCrimmen chuckled, skating down the ice. “Come on, Moose’ll be ready to swap in a moment.”
Kari grunted in response.
Pausing, the assistant coach frowned. “Lehts? You do look like shit.” He looked the goalie up and down with a fast, clinical eye. “How drunk did you get last night?”
“Didn’t,” Kari answered weakly.
“Oh, so you’re hungover from orange juice, right.”
“He didn’t,” Tobi interrupted, joining them as he stopped the puck quickly. “We were playing video games ‘til nine. We didn’t drink.”
The assistant coach frowned. “Kari,” he said gently. “Stand up. Straight. Come on, you can do it. Look at me. Face me. No, open your eyes.” Catching a hold of the goalie’s chin, he looked at his face carefully. Biting his lip, he tugged off one of his gloves and put the back of his bare hand against the younger man’s forehead.
“Christ!” he bit out. “You’re roasting! Come on; let’s get you out of here. Can someone drive you home?”
“Tobi,” Kari murmured, accepting the older man’s help. “He knows the way to my house.”
“And he’s probably caught this anyway,” McCrimmen muttered under his breath. “Alright. Enstrom, you’ve got the afternoon off. Get him home, okay?”
Tobi nodded, skating off the ice and kicking the build-up off of his skates. “No problem.” He followed the goalie back into the locker rooms, privately glad that this was a closed practice, and no one but the team got to see the normally-strong goalie so weak.
----
Kari slept for most of the day, a miserable, huddled mass under the mountain of blankets. Every once in a while, Tobi would check in on him, mostly making sure he was still alive. As soon as they had arrived at the goalie’s house, Kari had stumbled into a shower, changed into pyjamas, and fallen into bed. Tobi had been left to explore the house on his own, finding a thermometer, ginger ale, and ibuprofen. He’d spent a good twenty minutes trying to decide what all the medications on Kari’s list were for-like all frequently-injured players (read, goalies) Kari kept track of what he was on, but not what it was for. Undoubtedly, the trainers and team physician knew, but it provided a good puzzle for the young Swede.
He’d been amused by what the older man stocked by way of food. Ginger ale was easy to find, as were Saltines. Kari, it seemed, was one of those goalies who spent the morning before a game throwing up on the hour. He also seemed to live on frozen meals-a surprising amount of tofu was stocked in his freezer. The fridge hinted at the influences of a trainer or dietician, full of fruits and vegetables and the sorts of healthy things that made any right-thinking man gag.
Hidden in the back of one cabinet, however, Tobi’d scored the motherload. Hershey’s Bars in every variety the chocolate company had ever made, Aero bars galore, a mountain of Milka, Ritter Sport (mostly marzipan and hazelnut), and candy bars that he didn’t even recognize.
Forget sweet tooth.
Kari had to have an entire sweet jaw.
Eventually, though, Tobi found what he was looking for. Several cans of Campbell’s soup, mostly chicken and stars, were grouped together in one of the cabinets right over the stove.
Laughing to himself, the defenseman leaned up on his tiptoes to grab one of the cans. A quick perusal of the silverware drawer revealed a spoon and can opener, and he immediately set to work.
As he opened the can and dumped the soup into the saucepan, Tobi hummed quietly. He was actually quite proficient in the kitchen, a skill he blamed on his frequent skipping of school. Making soup was easy, and it didn’t take very much concentration. He allowed his thoughts to wander, thinking of the blond.
He’d been thinking of the Finnish goalie more and more recently. His thoughts would stray to the way the other man moved, the way he laughed, the way he smiled when he was teased-anything. Tobi wasn’t stupid; he knew attraction when he felt it. That little knot behind his breastbone was all too telling. And he’d come to terms with his sexuality years ago. He was out to the people that mattered.
But Kari…
He was straight. Too straight.
‘Fuck,’ Tobi thought morosely, turning off the stove and pouring the soup into a bowl. He waited a few moments for it to cool down, and then carried the bowl upstairs with a fresh glass of ginger ale.
Title: Eight Nights (part 5 of 8)
Author: creepy_crawly
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Those Involved: Kari Lehtonen/Tobias Enstrom
Warnings: Hockey. Slash.
Disclaimer:Ha. This will be eight nights of me pretending. Weee!
Summary: How much can a relationship change in eight days? Well, lucky for us, Truse’s Eight Steps To Love fits right in. Mazel tov! (This is a gift-fic for Lishka, who needs to get an El-Jay)
Fifth Night
“Well, you’re looking a lot better,” Moose murmured. He looked over his friend with a fatherly eye. “You don’t look so much like roadkill now.”
“I feel better,” Kari admitted. “You should let Tobi take care of your girls when they’re sick. Man’s got a gift.”
Noticing the stupid smile on his friend’s face, Moose bit back a smile. “Several gifts, no?”
“Mmm…” Kari breathed. “Yeah…”
Then, suddenly realizing what he had just said, he jolted upright, his face flushing a deep, bright red. “No!” he yelped. “Not like that! He’s a good hockey player. A very good defenseman!”
Moose chuckled. “You want him,” he teased. “I know you do. I’ve seen the way you watch him…or his ass, anyway.”
“Shut up,” Kari huffed. “Jeez. Are you gonna do this to the girls when they’re older? Because they will be so creeped if Daddy’s saying he sees how they’re watching ass.”
“Nahh,” Moose laughed, “you’re the only one who gets that treatment. I’d do it to Tobi, too, but I’m not sure he knows that I know. He’s very good at that privacy thing.”
“He’s gay?” Kari asked quickly, head whipping around to stare at his fellow goaltender.
Moose pulled a slight face. “Ummm…yeah. As I said, very good at that privacy thing. I overheard him talking to his oldest sister. Oops?”
“What are you two gossiping about?” Tobi asked breathlessly, skidding to a halt next to the two goalies.
“You,” Kari answered. “We’re trying to decide if you’re a natural blond, or if you dye it, like Marian.”
“Blond eyebrows,” Tobi answered. “So I’m blond.”
“Marian dyes his eyebrows. And his beard. And that mustache he tried to grow,” Kari pointed out.
“So you’re trying to find out it the carpet matches the drapes?” Tobi asked, cocking an eyebrow. He waited for Kari’s blush to reach full power, and then said, “it does. But you can double-check later, if you want.”
And then he skated off, grinning victoriously.
So here's three in one!
First Night
Second Night
Title: Eight Nights (part 3 of 8)
Author: creepy_crawly
Rating: PG, for now.
Characters/Those Involved: Kari Lehtonen/Tobias Enstrom
Warnings: Hockey. Slash.
Disclaimer:Ha. This will be eight nights of me pretending. Weee!
Summary: How much can a relationship change in eight days? Well, lucky for us, Truse’s Eight Steps To Love fits right in. Mazel tov! (This is a gift-fic for Lishka, who needs to get an El-Jay)
Third Night
“Ain’t no river wide enough,” Bryan sang, shooting a wink at the blonde skating a few feet in front of him. “To keep me from gettin’ to you, babe.”
“There better not be, Little,” the woman snickered. “Not with a voice like that.”
Kari grinned across at Moose, skating lazily down the rink. “She hasn’t heard him at his best yet, has she?”
“Not unless she’s been in the showers, no,” Tobi answered, sliding past them quickly, skating backwards. “She wouldn’t go out with him if she had.”
Kari laughed quietly. “Like you’re any better.”
“Oh, but I am,” Tobi replied, smirking.
“He’s got a nice tenor,” Moose said, quirking an eyebrow at the two younger blonds. “The girls make him sing them lullabies.”
“Helps that I know ‘em all in Swedish,” Tobi added. Grinning, he spun around so that he was moving forwards. “Nothing sounds as good as a Swedish tenor.”
“Finnish bass,” Kari shot back.
“Bass?” the defenseman asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Kari nodded. “According to my sister, anyway. And she’d know. She teaches choir.”
The young Swede laughed slightly. “All my family knows is hockey, honestly. Well, that, and video games. Tina kicks my ass at anything that can be played on a PS3.”
The taller man snickered. “Your little sister?”
A grim scowl blossomed across Tobi’s face. “Hey. She’s mean. And she’s had five of us to practice against. When she was really little, we all told her secret cheats we’d figured out so that she’d have an edge against the other four. Only, turns out, if everyone tells one person their secrets, that one person has years of blackmail.”
Kari laughed outright. “Tell you what,” he snorted. “You can try and beat me.”
Looking up, Tobi grinned. “You’re on.”
Title: Eight Nights (part 4 of 8)
Author: creepy_crawly
Rating: Moving up to PG-13!
Characters/Those Involved: Kari Lehtonen/Tobias Enstrom
Warnings: Hockey. Slash.
Disclaimer:Ha. This will be eight nights of me pretending. Weee!
Summary: How much can a relationship change in eight days? Well, lucky for us, Truse’s Eight Steps To Love fits right in. Mazel tov! (This is a gift-fic for Lishka, who needs to get an El-Jay)
Fourth Night
“I feel awful,” Kari whimpered, pressing his hot face against the cool Plexiglas. He kept his eyes cracked; as much as the light hurt, closing his eyes cued the world to spin faster than ever, and he was having a hard enough time staying on his feet as it was.
“Hangovers tend to do that to you, Lehts,” Brad McCrimmen chuckled, skating down the ice. “Come on, Moose’ll be ready to swap in a moment.”
Kari grunted in response.
Pausing, the assistant coach frowned. “Lehts? You do look like shit.” He looked the goalie up and down with a fast, clinical eye. “How drunk did you get last night?”
“Didn’t,” Kari answered weakly.
“Oh, so you’re hungover from orange juice, right.”
“He didn’t,” Tobi interrupted, joining them as he stopped the puck quickly. “We were playing video games ‘til nine. We didn’t drink.”
The assistant coach frowned. “Kari,” he said gently. “Stand up. Straight. Come on, you can do it. Look at me. Face me. No, open your eyes.” Catching a hold of the goalie’s chin, he looked at his face carefully. Biting his lip, he tugged off one of his gloves and put the back of his bare hand against the younger man’s forehead.
“Christ!” he bit out. “You’re roasting! Come on; let’s get you out of here. Can someone drive you home?”
“Tobi,” Kari murmured, accepting the older man’s help. “He knows the way to my house.”
“And he’s probably caught this anyway,” McCrimmen muttered under his breath. “Alright. Enstrom, you’ve got the afternoon off. Get him home, okay?”
Tobi nodded, skating off the ice and kicking the build-up off of his skates. “No problem.” He followed the goalie back into the locker rooms, privately glad that this was a closed practice, and no one but the team got to see the normally-strong goalie so weak.
----
Kari slept for most of the day, a miserable, huddled mass under the mountain of blankets. Every once in a while, Tobi would check in on him, mostly making sure he was still alive. As soon as they had arrived at the goalie’s house, Kari had stumbled into a shower, changed into pyjamas, and fallen into bed. Tobi had been left to explore the house on his own, finding a thermometer, ginger ale, and ibuprofen. He’d spent a good twenty minutes trying to decide what all the medications on Kari’s list were for-like all frequently-injured players (read, goalies) Kari kept track of what he was on, but not what it was for. Undoubtedly, the trainers and team physician knew, but it provided a good puzzle for the young Swede.
He’d been amused by what the older man stocked by way of food. Ginger ale was easy to find, as were Saltines. Kari, it seemed, was one of those goalies who spent the morning before a game throwing up on the hour. He also seemed to live on frozen meals-a surprising amount of tofu was stocked in his freezer. The fridge hinted at the influences of a trainer or dietician, full of fruits and vegetables and the sorts of healthy things that made any right-thinking man gag.
Hidden in the back of one cabinet, however, Tobi’d scored the motherload. Hershey’s Bars in every variety the chocolate company had ever made, Aero bars galore, a mountain of Milka, Ritter Sport (mostly marzipan and hazelnut), and candy bars that he didn’t even recognize.
Forget sweet tooth.
Kari had to have an entire sweet jaw.
Eventually, though, Tobi found what he was looking for. Several cans of Campbell’s soup, mostly chicken and stars, were grouped together in one of the cabinets right over the stove.
Laughing to himself, the defenseman leaned up on his tiptoes to grab one of the cans. A quick perusal of the silverware drawer revealed a spoon and can opener, and he immediately set to work.
As he opened the can and dumped the soup into the saucepan, Tobi hummed quietly. He was actually quite proficient in the kitchen, a skill he blamed on his frequent skipping of school. Making soup was easy, and it didn’t take very much concentration. He allowed his thoughts to wander, thinking of the blond.
He’d been thinking of the Finnish goalie more and more recently. His thoughts would stray to the way the other man moved, the way he laughed, the way he smiled when he was teased-anything. Tobi wasn’t stupid; he knew attraction when he felt it. That little knot behind his breastbone was all too telling. And he’d come to terms with his sexuality years ago. He was out to the people that mattered.
But Kari…
He was straight. Too straight.
‘Fuck,’ Tobi thought morosely, turning off the stove and pouring the soup into a bowl. He waited a few moments for it to cool down, and then carried the bowl upstairs with a fresh glass of ginger ale.
Title: Eight Nights (part 5 of 8)
Author: creepy_crawly
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Those Involved: Kari Lehtonen/Tobias Enstrom
Warnings: Hockey. Slash.
Disclaimer:Ha. This will be eight nights of me pretending. Weee!
Summary: How much can a relationship change in eight days? Well, lucky for us, Truse’s Eight Steps To Love fits right in. Mazel tov! (This is a gift-fic for Lishka, who needs to get an El-Jay)
Fifth Night
“Well, you’re looking a lot better,” Moose murmured. He looked over his friend with a fatherly eye. “You don’t look so much like roadkill now.”
“I feel better,” Kari admitted. “You should let Tobi take care of your girls when they’re sick. Man’s got a gift.”
Noticing the stupid smile on his friend’s face, Moose bit back a smile. “Several gifts, no?”
“Mmm…” Kari breathed. “Yeah…”
Then, suddenly realizing what he had just said, he jolted upright, his face flushing a deep, bright red. “No!” he yelped. “Not like that! He’s a good hockey player. A very good defenseman!”
Moose chuckled. “You want him,” he teased. “I know you do. I’ve seen the way you watch him…or his ass, anyway.”
“Shut up,” Kari huffed. “Jeez. Are you gonna do this to the girls when they’re older? Because they will be so creeped if Daddy’s saying he sees how they’re watching ass.”
“Nahh,” Moose laughed, “you’re the only one who gets that treatment. I’d do it to Tobi, too, but I’m not sure he knows that I know. He’s very good at that privacy thing.”
“He’s gay?” Kari asked quickly, head whipping around to stare at his fellow goaltender.
Moose pulled a slight face. “Ummm…yeah. As I said, very good at that privacy thing. I overheard him talking to his oldest sister. Oops?”
“What are you two gossiping about?” Tobi asked breathlessly, skidding to a halt next to the two goalies.
“You,” Kari answered. “We’re trying to decide if you’re a natural blond, or if you dye it, like Marian.”
“Blond eyebrows,” Tobi answered. “So I’m blond.”
“Marian dyes his eyebrows. And his beard. And that mustache he tried to grow,” Kari pointed out.
“So you’re trying to find out it the carpet matches the drapes?” Tobi asked, cocking an eyebrow. He waited for Kari’s blush to reach full power, and then said, “it does. But you can double-check later, if you want.”
And then he skated off, grinning victoriously.