(no subject)
Two Way Street part 5
Elise
pg13
Buffalo Sabres
Steve Bernier/Ryan Miller
warning: This part is weird
A/n: BIG THANKS to zdarovyeh for helping me with my characters and accuracy issues. The next to chapters were already written BEFORE i got the help, so i've editted them, but they still need a bit of work. Hopefully, by the end of this ordeal, I'll have a better "Steve". So big thanks, my eternal gratitude. I also now know a ridiculous amount about Big Bear, probably more than he does.
Steve rested on the hotel bed. He held his stomach and sighed. He hated flying. True to Ryan’s word, it was a short flight, and for that he was thankful. In San Jose, it was different, everything was so incredibly different. Flights were longer, the temperature was warmer, and he had built a nice group of friends there. Steve’s stomach flipped and he gripped his shirt. His stomach had slowed down a bit, and he was also thankful that they weren’t playing tonight. Steve rolled over onto his stomach, his head on his forearms. He let out a deep breath, his shoulders tense. Not intentionally, but Ryan and him didn’t sit near each other. The rush for the hotel had stopped any conversation they could have had. Steve went to the bathroom and Ryan had disappeared after dropping his things off. Steve hit the bed pillow. He wanted to talk.
The sound of the door opening stopped Steve’s thoughts. He remained still, his body instinctively curling up. Ryan walked in and stood by his bed side. The goalie lightly kicked the bed, “Hey... are you alive?”
Steve rolled onto his back and gave a small smile. “Barely.”
Ryan smiled, holding a six pack in his arms. “Peace offering.”
Eyes flickering to the beer, Steve leaned up onto his hands, indicating that Ryan should sit down. Steve bit his lip as Ryan did so, crossing his legs. Ryan started, “Listen, I’m sorry for snapping. You’ve been nothing but nice since you got traded here, and i haven’t really... you know...tried at all.”
Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I... could’ve been... better. Less invasive.”
Ryan opened one of the beers, passing it to Steve. Steve’s stomach flipped a bit, but he took it anyways. Opening his own, Ryan looked into his lap. Taking a deep swig, Ryan said softly, “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t hate you.”
“I know you don’t.” Steve said, his voice whispering again.
Steve leaned a bit closer, trying to look at Ryan’s brown eyes. Ryan smiled at him, making eye contact. Steve froze, practically mesmerized. “Steve. I’m just tired. I’m not busy, just so tired.” Ryan said, his face falling, making him appear older than he was.
Steve nodded, “Is there something I can do?”
Ryan drank to give him time to think of his answer. Steve waited patiently and Ryan shrugged again. “I don’t know,” He said, “I can’t just... open up about these things.”
“Why not?”
“Things are different. It’s not like San Jose. I can’t just... say what’s on my mind. I’m not that laid back. It’s hard.” Ryan finished off his beer, grabbing another one.
Steve began to drink his beer a bit faster, wanting to keep up with Ryan. He swallowed and offered up his beer bottle. “Cheers to new beginnings. For the both of us.”
Ryan grinned, and looked into Steve’s face, happy to see genuine care. He tapped his bottle against Steve’s and said, “To new beginnings.”
Steve stretched his feet out, leaning them against Ryan, who surprisingly didn’t move away. On the contrary, Ryan put his hand on Steve’s leg. Steve could feel the tremble through the goalie, but remained silent as Ryan slowly dragged his hand across his calf. Steve shut his eyes and leaned his head back, a lazy smile on his face. He was beginning to feel better, and his heart was racing, knowing that Ryan was more comfortable around him. Steve moved his hand to his stomach, subconsciously following Ryan’s movements.
They sat in silence a moment, both men comfortable with each other, and neither needing to speak. Steve, soothed by the touch, shut his eyes, feeling his body warm, and muscles relax. Ryan placed the six pack and his beer down. He took a deep breath and focused on Steve’s face. Reaching over, the goalie took Steve’s mostly full beer, and placed it down. Steve was watching him now, remaining passive and allowing the goalie to do as he pleased. He didn’t want to scare off Ryan. He liked watching him. Steve could see the gears turning in Ryan’s head. His stomach began to twist and he held his breath. Ryan brought his hand a bit further up Steve’s leg, shifting his own weight. Steve licked his lips, sucking in the bottom one. Ryan’s eyes were dark, and intense, watching him, observing him. Steve willed himself to calm down, even as his heart began to beat faster. Ryan crawled up the bed and Steve watched in awe, and a bit hesitant. Ryan gently brought a hand down Steve’s face, causing the forward to shut his eyes again, letting out a small satisfied sigh. “Thank you...” Ryan said softly, his warm breath against Steve’s ear.
Steve brought his hands to Ryan’s waist, hands making large circular motions around his hips. At last, Ryan brought their lips together, and Steve shivered. Ryan’s lips were very soft, in contrast to his own. He deepened the kiss and Steve dragged his hands to Ryan’s lower back, pressing them together. Steve moaned into the kiss and the friction between the two made his head swim. “WAKE UP!”
Steve opened his eyes, sitting up. He was alone on his bed, and he squinted at the lights. His stomach flipped, the homesickness and flight sickness hitting him full force, not to mention, the disappointment. Breathing fast, Steve looked around and saw a very amused Ryan standing over his bed. There were no beers, there were no kisses. Steve moaned and fell back onto the bed. “I hate you Miller, I absolutely hate you.”
“Why, were you about to... you know?” Ryan raised an eyebrow, chuckling.
“Dammit, Ryan, I was sleeping.” Steve said, “Why do you torture me? That was a really, really good dream.”
Ryan rolled his eyes and moved back to his bed, but not before shutting the lights off, “Oh, I know. I heard. Which is why I woke you up. I can’t sleep if you’re moaning like that.”
“I was moaning...?” Steve said, voice terrified. He curled on his side, pulling the pillow closer to his body, hiding his tightening pants.
Ryan footed off his shoes and yawned, rubbing his face. “Yes,” He said, “I want some sleep.”
“Did I...” Steve’s face burned, “say any names?”
“No.” Ryan said, “And I don’t want to know her name, thank you. I want to sleep. Can we please sleep?”
Steve fell back on his bed again and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry... it’s been a bit... I just... why do you think its a she?”
Ryan was silent and Steve peeked a glance, seeing the goalie staring at him. Steve blushed and began to stutter, “That’s not to say... i mean... it was a girl.”
“Ok.” Ryan said, his voice a whisper.
“No really, you gotta believe me.” Steve said quickly, desperately.
“I believe you.” Ryan said in the same guarded tone.
Steve cleared his throat, “You don’t do you? I mean it, Ryan.”
“Go to bed.” Ryan said, “Just shut your eyes and go to sleep.”
“Ryan...” Steve started again, but was quickly interrupted by Ryan.
“I don’t care if you’re gay or straight or whatever, Steve, I don’t. It’s ok to be gay.” Ryan said, exasperated, “Please, go to sleep, and whatever guy you were dreaming of, call him tomorrow and have lots of sex but right now, please, please, please go to sleep.”
Steve’s jaw dropped and he said, “I’m sorry, I'm sorry. Some people are weird about that stuff. I’m sorry, Ry, for everything.”
Ryan sat up, embarrassed for snapping, and said, “I’m sorry too. Hope you figure things out.”
Ryan then turned, laying back down, pulling the blanket around him. They were silent a few minutes until Steve realized that Ryan was asleep, his chest slowly rising, and his breathing slow and deep. Steve shut his eyes, face red in embarrassment. He uncomfortably shifted, still turned on. Steve turned his back to Ryan and spent the rest of the night fighting off more dreams.
Elise
pg13
Buffalo Sabres
Steve Bernier/Ryan Miller
warning: This part is weird
A/n: BIG THANKS to zdarovyeh for helping me with my characters and accuracy issues. The next to chapters were already written BEFORE i got the help, so i've editted them, but they still need a bit of work. Hopefully, by the end of this ordeal, I'll have a better "Steve". So big thanks, my eternal gratitude. I also now know a ridiculous amount about Big Bear, probably more than he does.
Steve rested on the hotel bed. He held his stomach and sighed. He hated flying. True to Ryan’s word, it was a short flight, and for that he was thankful. In San Jose, it was different, everything was so incredibly different. Flights were longer, the temperature was warmer, and he had built a nice group of friends there. Steve’s stomach flipped and he gripped his shirt. His stomach had slowed down a bit, and he was also thankful that they weren’t playing tonight. Steve rolled over onto his stomach, his head on his forearms. He let out a deep breath, his shoulders tense. Not intentionally, but Ryan and him didn’t sit near each other. The rush for the hotel had stopped any conversation they could have had. Steve went to the bathroom and Ryan had disappeared after dropping his things off. Steve hit the bed pillow. He wanted to talk.
The sound of the door opening stopped Steve’s thoughts. He remained still, his body instinctively curling up. Ryan walked in and stood by his bed side. The goalie lightly kicked the bed, “Hey... are you alive?”
Steve rolled onto his back and gave a small smile. “Barely.”
Ryan smiled, holding a six pack in his arms. “Peace offering.”
Eyes flickering to the beer, Steve leaned up onto his hands, indicating that Ryan should sit down. Steve bit his lip as Ryan did so, crossing his legs. Ryan started, “Listen, I’m sorry for snapping. You’ve been nothing but nice since you got traded here, and i haven’t really... you know...tried at all.”
Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I... could’ve been... better. Less invasive.”
Ryan opened one of the beers, passing it to Steve. Steve’s stomach flipped a bit, but he took it anyways. Opening his own, Ryan looked into his lap. Taking a deep swig, Ryan said softly, “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t hate you.”
“I know you don’t.” Steve said, his voice whispering again.
Steve leaned a bit closer, trying to look at Ryan’s brown eyes. Ryan smiled at him, making eye contact. Steve froze, practically mesmerized. “Steve. I’m just tired. I’m not busy, just so tired.” Ryan said, his face falling, making him appear older than he was.
Steve nodded, “Is there something I can do?”
Ryan drank to give him time to think of his answer. Steve waited patiently and Ryan shrugged again. “I don’t know,” He said, “I can’t just... open up about these things.”
“Why not?”
“Things are different. It’s not like San Jose. I can’t just... say what’s on my mind. I’m not that laid back. It’s hard.” Ryan finished off his beer, grabbing another one.
Steve began to drink his beer a bit faster, wanting to keep up with Ryan. He swallowed and offered up his beer bottle. “Cheers to new beginnings. For the both of us.”
Ryan grinned, and looked into Steve’s face, happy to see genuine care. He tapped his bottle against Steve’s and said, “To new beginnings.”
Steve stretched his feet out, leaning them against Ryan, who surprisingly didn’t move away. On the contrary, Ryan put his hand on Steve’s leg. Steve could feel the tremble through the goalie, but remained silent as Ryan slowly dragged his hand across his calf. Steve shut his eyes and leaned his head back, a lazy smile on his face. He was beginning to feel better, and his heart was racing, knowing that Ryan was more comfortable around him. Steve moved his hand to his stomach, subconsciously following Ryan’s movements.
They sat in silence a moment, both men comfortable with each other, and neither needing to speak. Steve, soothed by the touch, shut his eyes, feeling his body warm, and muscles relax. Ryan placed the six pack and his beer down. He took a deep breath and focused on Steve’s face. Reaching over, the goalie took Steve’s mostly full beer, and placed it down. Steve was watching him now, remaining passive and allowing the goalie to do as he pleased. He didn’t want to scare off Ryan. He liked watching him. Steve could see the gears turning in Ryan’s head. His stomach began to twist and he held his breath. Ryan brought his hand a bit further up Steve’s leg, shifting his own weight. Steve licked his lips, sucking in the bottom one. Ryan’s eyes were dark, and intense, watching him, observing him. Steve willed himself to calm down, even as his heart began to beat faster. Ryan crawled up the bed and Steve watched in awe, and a bit hesitant. Ryan gently brought a hand down Steve’s face, causing the forward to shut his eyes again, letting out a small satisfied sigh. “Thank you...” Ryan said softly, his warm breath against Steve’s ear.
Steve brought his hands to Ryan’s waist, hands making large circular motions around his hips. At last, Ryan brought their lips together, and Steve shivered. Ryan’s lips were very soft, in contrast to his own. He deepened the kiss and Steve dragged his hands to Ryan’s lower back, pressing them together. Steve moaned into the kiss and the friction between the two made his head swim. “WAKE UP!”
Steve opened his eyes, sitting up. He was alone on his bed, and he squinted at the lights. His stomach flipped, the homesickness and flight sickness hitting him full force, not to mention, the disappointment. Breathing fast, Steve looked around and saw a very amused Ryan standing over his bed. There were no beers, there were no kisses. Steve moaned and fell back onto the bed. “I hate you Miller, I absolutely hate you.”
“Why, were you about to... you know?” Ryan raised an eyebrow, chuckling.
“Dammit, Ryan, I was sleeping.” Steve said, “Why do you torture me? That was a really, really good dream.”
Ryan rolled his eyes and moved back to his bed, but not before shutting the lights off, “Oh, I know. I heard. Which is why I woke you up. I can’t sleep if you’re moaning like that.”
“I was moaning...?” Steve said, voice terrified. He curled on his side, pulling the pillow closer to his body, hiding his tightening pants.
Ryan footed off his shoes and yawned, rubbing his face. “Yes,” He said, “I want some sleep.”
“Did I...” Steve’s face burned, “say any names?”
“No.” Ryan said, “And I don’t want to know her name, thank you. I want to sleep. Can we please sleep?”
Steve fell back on his bed again and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry... it’s been a bit... I just... why do you think its a she?”
Ryan was silent and Steve peeked a glance, seeing the goalie staring at him. Steve blushed and began to stutter, “That’s not to say... i mean... it was a girl.”
“Ok.” Ryan said, his voice a whisper.
“No really, you gotta believe me.” Steve said quickly, desperately.
“I believe you.” Ryan said in the same guarded tone.
Steve cleared his throat, “You don’t do you? I mean it, Ryan.”
“Go to bed.” Ryan said, “Just shut your eyes and go to sleep.”
“Ryan...” Steve started again, but was quickly interrupted by Ryan.
“I don’t care if you’re gay or straight or whatever, Steve, I don’t. It’s ok to be gay.” Ryan said, exasperated, “Please, go to sleep, and whatever guy you were dreaming of, call him tomorrow and have lots of sex but right now, please, please, please go to sleep.”
Steve’s jaw dropped and he said, “I’m sorry, I'm sorry. Some people are weird about that stuff. I’m sorry, Ry, for everything.”
Ryan sat up, embarrassed for snapping, and said, “I’m sorry too. Hope you figure things out.”
Ryan then turned, laying back down, pulling the blanket around him. They were silent a few minutes until Steve realized that Ryan was asleep, his chest slowly rising, and his breathing slow and deep. Steve shut his eyes, face red in embarrassment. He uncomfortably shifted, still turned on. Steve turned his back to Ryan and spent the rest of the night fighting off more dreams.