The arrival of Jordan completely throws Jeff, and not because he has any issues with Jordan. The guy is a great player, he fits into the team well and his feelings about Jeff seem set to mildly amused at the most extreme. But it’s like a switch flipped in Jared, from “fucking douche canoe” to “easy-going bro”. Initially he thinks it might be a trick. Jeff has no idea what the long-game is, what Jared hopes to get out of this. But suddenly Jared is actually talking to him, asking him about stuff, smiling and nodding. After a few years of Jared avoiding eye contact and answering direct questions with grunts (and really, Jeff has way more of an excuse for acting like a teenage boy than Jared) it’s fucking weird.
In the end Jeff decides he isn’t gonna look a gift Staal in the mouth and figures he must have won Jared over with his (considerable) charm. Maybe it’s the way that Jared still kind of grits his jaw when Eric mentions how great Jeff is playing that convinces him this might be for real. Or maybe, maybe, it’s wishful thinking because it’s nice having someone who asks him stupid questions about comic book movies (stupid because obviously Black Widow needs a spin off more than The Hulk, god) and tells him very intensely he needs to watch the video of goats that sound like Taylor Swift. It’s nice to interact with someone who treats him less like Jeff Skinner, hockey’s answer to Justin Bieber (and seriously, fuck the people who started that thing), and more like a normal guy.
He’s busy with the whole playing professional hockey thing and he has to go home for his cousin’s wedding and then he’s out with an injury for a few weeks and then they don’t make the playoffs. So he doesn’t notice he’s getting treated to a whole new side of Jared. First he’d got the bitchy, then the bro-y and now complete disinterest. He works it out at Eric’s “End of the Season and Hey We Didn’t Make the Playoffs Which Sucks But Let’s Eat Some Meat and Drink Some Beer” barbecue (Jeff is just calling it that in his head). Turns out he hates this more than when Jared was broadcasting how much he hated him with every fibre of his being. The polite smiles and the “I better let you get back to it”s (like Jeff wants to be left alone with Cam Ward while he gives a rant on the Proper Grilling of Burgers), are just getting under his skin. Later that night he finds Jared sitting outside on the deck on a bench, away from the rest of the party, six beer cans next to him (and, sure, they might not all be his, but by his blank unfocussed stare they are). Jeff’s in a similar state of edging towards drunk.
"Man, what is your problem?” he starts, and finds he’s kinda pushed Jared against the bit of the house he’d been slouching against.
“Nothing, I don’t have any problems, man,” Jared replies, not even trying with a fake smile. But instead of the shove back he’s expecting Jeff gets Jared sitting up and putting his hands on Jeff’s hips. They feel warm through his jeans.
Jeff wants to push, shove at the bruise he knows is there, get it all out in the open. He knows he’s being an immature dick but he finds himself saying, “I am so sick of this drama. It’s not my fault your brother’s know I’m a better player than you.”
Jared looks at him, tightens his grip until it edges on painful. “You want me to punch you or something, Bieber?”
Oh, fuck him, Jeff thinks distinctly, pastes on the fakest smile he can and says, “maybe it’d help you work through your feelings, princess?”
“I don’t want to punch you.” Jared says, and his hands are still there.
“Are you...” Jeff trails off. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yep,” Jared says. ‘I am sure about that and I am sure that this has nothing to do with my brothers, for fucking once.”
Jared doesn’t know what makes him do it. It’s a really stupid idea, there are a lot of people around, even if no one can seem them right now. But he pulls Jeff forward at the hips, gets him to unbalance and tip into his lap. He doesn’t let himself get distracted by that even though it’s a pretty distracting reality. He puts his lips against jeffs, tastes beer on his mouth and the charcoal after-taste of barbeque. Jared wants, oh he wants a lot, starting with wanting to put his hands through jeff’s terrible hair. He doesn’t though, because he’s pretty sure he’s about to get punched. Instead Jeff sighs, softly, and then puts his arms around Jared’s neck and pulls him in for a stronger kiss. The intensity is so much more, teeth and tongues and Jeff straining against him. Jeff’s body feels amazing. His lips are chapped, not soft and he tugs a bit too hard on Jared’s hair but Jared is so into it. Wants to tuck his hand into the back of Jeff’s jeans and start on the more X rated parts of fantasies, wants to pull off his shirt and bite along his chest, wants to let Jeff hold him down and then he wants to swap and try it the other way. It's that kind of kiss, the kind that makes you think you have to have the other person right now, makes the want stronger with the growing certainty that you can have this.They part, both breathless.
“Oh.” Is all Jeff says. Jared opens his eyes and Jeff is staring at him like a play that’s beginning to make sense, “I see.”
“You... do?” Jared replies.
“I have a house y’know. A house that isn’t also occupied by your two hulking hockey player older brothers.”
“Oh my God, will you shut up about them?” Jared bites hard, vindictively, against Jeff’s neck.
“Nope.” Jeff says, laughing, clambering off Jared and grabbing for his hand. “I really won’t, you’re going to have to stop me. With your dick. In my mouth.”
“Oh my God.” Jared repeats, another tone entirely this time.
(AN: writing comment fic is really impractical when it gets stupid-long like this, apologies for my weird-ass paragraph breaks /o\)
The arrival of Jordan completely throws Jeff, and not because he has any issues with Jordan. The guy is a great player, he fits into the team well and his feelings about Jeff seem set to mildly amused at the most extreme. But it’s like a switch flipped in Jared, from “fucking douche canoe” to “easy-going bro”. Initially he thinks it might be a trick. Jeff has no idea what the long-game is, what Jared hopes to get out of this. But suddenly Jared is actually talking to him, asking him about stuff, smiling and nodding. After a few years of Jared avoiding eye contact and answering direct questions with grunts (and really, Jeff has way more of an excuse for acting like a teenage boy than Jared) it’s fucking weird.
In the end Jeff decides he isn’t gonna look a gift Staal in the mouth and figures he must have won Jared over with his (considerable) charm. Maybe it’s the way that Jared still kind of grits his jaw when Eric mentions how great Jeff is playing that convinces him this might be for real. Or maybe, maybe, it’s wishful thinking because it’s nice having someone who asks him stupid questions about comic book movies (stupid because obviously Black Widow needs a spin off more than The Hulk, god) and tells him very intensely he needs to watch the video of goats that sound like Taylor Swift. It’s nice to interact with someone who treats him less like Jeff Skinner, hockey’s answer to Justin Bieber (and seriously, fuck the people who started that thing), and more like a normal guy.
He’s busy with the whole playing professional hockey thing and he has to go home for his cousin’s wedding and then he’s out with an injury for a few weeks and then they don’t make the playoffs. So he doesn’t notice he’s getting treated to a whole new side of Jared. First he’d got the bitchy, then the bro-y and now complete disinterest. He works it out at Eric’s “End of the Season and Hey We Didn’t Make the Playoffs Which Sucks But Let’s Eat Some Meat and Drink Some Beer” barbecue (Jeff is just calling it that in his head). Turns out he hates this more than when Jared was broadcasting how much he hated him with every fibre of his being. The polite smiles and the “I better let you get back to it”s (like Jeff wants to be left alone with Cam Ward while he gives a rant on the Proper Grilling of Burgers), are just getting under his skin. Later that night he finds Jared sitting outside on the deck on a bench, away from the rest of the party, six beer cans next to him (and, sure, they might not all be his, but by his blank unfocussed stare they are). Jeff’s in a similar state of edging towards drunk.
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"Man, what is your problem?” he starts, and finds he’s kinda pushed Jared against the bit of the house he’d been slouching against.
“Nothing, I don’t have any problems, man,” Jared replies, not even trying with a fake smile. But instead of the shove back he’s expecting Jeff gets Jared sitting up and putting his hands on Jeff’s hips. They feel warm through his jeans.
Jeff wants to push, shove at the bruise he knows is there, get it all out in the open. He knows he’s being an immature dick but he finds himself saying, “I am so sick of this drama. It’s not my fault your brother’s know I’m a better player than you.”
Jared looks at him, tightens his grip until it edges on painful. “You want me to punch you or something, Bieber?”
Oh, fuck him, Jeff thinks distinctly, pastes on the fakest smile he can and says, “maybe it’d help you work through your feelings, princess?”
“I don’t want to punch you.” Jared says, and his hands are still there.
“Are you...” Jeff trails off. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yep,” Jared says. ‘I am sure about that and I am sure that this has nothing to do with my brothers, for fucking once.”
Jared doesn’t know what makes him do it. It’s a really stupid idea, there are a lot of people around, even if no one can seem them right now. But he pulls Jeff forward at the hips, gets him to unbalance and tip into his lap. He doesn’t let himself get distracted by that even though it’s a pretty distracting reality. He puts his lips against jeffs, tastes beer on his mouth and the charcoal after-taste of barbeque. Jared wants, oh he wants a lot, starting with wanting to put his hands through jeff’s terrible hair. He doesn’t though, because he’s pretty sure he’s about to get punched. Instead Jeff sighs, softly, and then puts his arms around Jared’s neck and pulls him in for a stronger kiss. The intensity is so much more, teeth and tongues and Jeff straining against him. Jeff’s body feels amazing. His lips are chapped, not soft and he tugs a bit too hard on Jared’s hair but Jared is so into it. Wants to tuck his hand into the back of Jeff’s jeans and start on the more X rated parts of fantasies, wants to pull off his shirt and bite along his chest, wants to let Jeff hold him down and then he wants to swap and try it the other way. It's that kind of kiss, the kind that makes you think you have to have the other person right now, makes the want stronger with the growing certainty that you can have this.They part, both breathless.
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“Oh.” Is all Jeff says. Jared opens his eyes and Jeff is staring at him like a play that’s beginning to make sense, “I see.”
“You... do?” Jared replies.
“I have a house y’know. A house that isn’t also occupied by your two hulking hockey player older brothers.”
“Oh my God, will you shut up about them?” Jared bites hard, vindictively, against Jeff’s neck.
“Nope.” Jeff says, laughing, clambering off Jared and grabbing for his hand. “I really won’t, you’re going to have to stop me. With your dick. In my mouth.”
“Oh my God.” Jared repeats, another tone entirely this time.
(AN: writing comment fic is really impractical when it gets stupid-long like this, apologies for my weird-ass paragraph breaks /o\)
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(Sorry your commentfic is long. Not really.)
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