Moar fic recs
Look, it says it's for me. How could I not? Future fic now accepted as headcanon.
Jordan rolls his eyes, but is quiet as Taylor wraps his scarf warmly around him and plunks a hat on his head. When Taylor goes to step back and get his own winter gear, Jordan pulls him back in, kissing him sweetly for a few minutes, warm in the early morning quiet of their kitchen before breaking it off with a smile and pushing Taylor towards the mud room.
Taylor feels a thrill of anticipation as he puts his own warm coat on. It's the same one he's felt every time he's about to get on the ice--the same one he'd felt as a kid with his mom helping lace up his skates, the same one he'd felt pulling on his Oilers jersey, the same one he feels checking over the kids he coaches these days. Hockey is waiting for him.
Under a Hypothetical Sky by cominginside.
ETA: And while I'm at it, also: another fic by a dear friend of mine, with two of my favourite boys remembering my favourite tournament with a bunch of my other favourite players and things by one of my favourite people.
“Besides,” John says, “Ebs was a nice quiet kid, too, eh?” He jostles Jordan with an elbow; Jordan shoves him lightly back.
“Doesn’t count because he was secretly a makeout king,” Evander points out. Luke immediately rolls over to look at Jordan. He raises his eyebrows as high as they can possibly go, delighted amusement written across his face.
“Jordan Eberle,” he says, and Jordan’s cheeks go red.
Something fierce and ten times smarter by 12ways.
Jordan rolls his eyes, but is quiet as Taylor wraps his scarf warmly around him and plunks a hat on his head. When Taylor goes to step back and get his own winter gear, Jordan pulls him back in, kissing him sweetly for a few minutes, warm in the early morning quiet of their kitchen before breaking it off with a smile and pushing Taylor towards the mud room.
Taylor feels a thrill of anticipation as he puts his own warm coat on. It's the same one he's felt every time he's about to get on the ice--the same one he'd felt as a kid with his mom helping lace up his skates, the same one he'd felt pulling on his Oilers jersey, the same one he feels checking over the kids he coaches these days. Hockey is waiting for him.
Under a Hypothetical Sky by cominginside.
ETA: And while I'm at it, also: another fic by a dear friend of mine, with two of my favourite boys remembering my favourite tournament with a bunch of my other favourite players and things by one of my favourite people.
“Besides,” John says, “Ebs was a nice quiet kid, too, eh?” He jostles Jordan with an elbow; Jordan shoves him lightly back.
“Doesn’t count because he was secretly a makeout king,” Evander points out. Luke immediately rolls over to look at Jordan. He raises his eyebrows as high as they can possibly go, delighted amusement written across his face.
“Jordan Eberle,” he says, and Jordan’s cheeks go red.
Something fierce and ten times smarter by 12ways.