Move (Extended) Green/Semin
Title: Move (Extended version)
Pairing: Mike Green/Alex Semin
Rating/Warning: M for drinking
Words: 784
Notes: I decided to extend this a little bit, give it a different ending.
Sasha sighed as he continued to pack his stuff. Leaving the Capitals was the right choice, he knew, but he didn’t have to like it. He loved the town, his friends, and the team - Mike, too. He’d miss Mike the most.
Sasha laughed as he saw Mike’s old iPod in his dresser. Mike had given it to him so he would listen to better music. Only, Sasha never listened to it after Mike would leave. He flipped through the songs, recognized some of them, but most he couldn’t place.
Sasha smiled as he scrolled past Mike’s favourite song, even thought he’d never admit it. He always sang it to Sasha. Something Sasha never understood, because it’s very depressing. Sighing, Sasha walked over to his stereo and plugged the iPod in, playing the song.
A long long time ago, I can still remember… came out of the speakers and Sasha was tempted to change it, thinking it was too emotional for him right now, but he wanted to feel like Mike was there.
Ignoring the somber lyrics, Sasha danced slowly to the music like he had with Mike that one night. He continued to pack, dancing around his living room as he placed things in boxes.
By the time the song ended, he actually had a lot more packed and decided to repeat the song. It definitely wasn’t because it reminded him of being with Mike.
He continued to pack his belongings, swaying his hips gently and singing along to the lyrics he was beginning to feel the meaning of.
“Well, I know that you're in love with him,” he continued,
“'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm & blue-oooos!” He sang, top of his lungs as tears started to sting his eyes.
Mike was a jerk. But he was the one leaving.
----------------- ------------------
By the time the song rolled around a fourth time, Sasha was on the floor, cradling a bottle of gin he didn’t even like. “I miss Mike,” he said, as if someone were listening. “I fucking hate hockey,” he whined. “I should’ve been a soccer player.”
Sasha sighed and pulled out his phone, ignoring his gut telling him to just put it away. He dialed Mike’s number and listened to it ring. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry,” Sasha paused, choked up. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he started crying.
“Sasha? It’s two in the morning, is everything alright?” Mike asked.
“I said I’m fucking sorry, Mike! I never should’ve become a hockey player. I should just quit, it’s not fair!” Sasha yelled.
“Are you at your place?” Mike asked.
Sasha never answered, just clicked his phone shit, ending the call.
About half an hour later, Mike knocked on Sasha’s door but he didn’t answer. “Sasha!” Mike called. Pounding on the door once more with no answer, Mike searched for a spare key.
Unlocking the door, he raced inside to find Sasha passed out on his floor. American Pie blared from the stereo and Mike spotted empty beer bottles on the floor and the gin in Sasha’s arms. “Fuck, Sash,” Mike sighed.
Mike sat down and pulled Sasha into his lap. “It’s okay,” he cooed. Sasha started to wake up a short while after, groaning and holding his head. “I’m sorry, Mike,”
“Stop with the apologies, Sasha. You’re starting to sound Canadian,” Mike joked, pulling Sasha to sit up.
“Do you hate me?” Sasha asked, still half-asleep.
“I love you, Sasha,” Mike answered, but Sasha was back asleep.
------ ---------
Sasha woke up a couple hours later, in his bed. A little confused, he walked out into the living room, where more boxes were packed, labeled, and piled, and loud music was playing. “Hello?” he called.
Mike stepped out of the kitchen with a big smile and a cup of coffee for Sasha. “Thought I’d help you out a bit,” he explained.
“You put me to bed?” Sasha asked.
“You needed sleep,” Mike explained.
“So, I really called you last night?” Sasha sighed. He never was good with alcohol.
“I think we need to talk, Sasha,” Mike said. “If you want to keep seeing each other, it is possible.”
“Long distance?”
“It could work, Sasha. We could try, at least. I don’t want this to end, either, you know,” Mike explained.
Instead of saying anything, Sasha jumped on Mike and started kissing him. “Wait, Sasha,” Mike pulled back, “Sorry to ruin the moment, but you did spend all night drinking. Mind brushing your teeth?” Mike asked.
Sasha blushed before sprinting off to the bathroom. When he came back, he just enclosed his arms around, Mike in a tight hug. This could work.