20 Halak - 11 : Friends
title : for you only (will I break) have I broken (and I’m still breaking)
author : russian torque
pairing : patrik berglund / jaroslav halak ; unrequited jaroslav halak / brian elliott
words : ~2,000
rating : PG-13
note : takes place in the gap between the sharks & kings series
11 | friends | 23 april 2012“You okay?”
Jaro doesn’t notice Patrik walking with him on his way to the parking garage and hearing his voice is startling. The shock lasts less than a second and he’s back in his own head, ignoring the world around him because it’s easier than actually acknowledging what’s going on.
Unfortunately, Patrik isn’t the giving up sort and he speeds up to match Jaro’s pace, fingers catching on his arm and he’s talking again, asking questions he hasn’t earned the answers to and Jaro doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He just wants to go home, go to bed, and pretend today never happened.
“What’s wrong?” he tries again and this time he’s got a firm grip on Jaro’s wrist, “Is it the injury?”
Jaro pulls back so hard that the motion of yanking his arm away twists his back a little and sends a sharp spark down his spine. He flinches and tries to hide it, but the heat of the pain dulls the turmoil in his chest a little.
“Fine,” Jaro bites out, “I’m fine.”
It’s such a painfully blatant lie that Jaro just about chokes on it, forces the words out like they’re burning his throat and he wishes his throat was on fire right now. Or his eyes- if he didn’t have eyes, he wouldn’t have seen-
“Bullshit,” Patrik snaps back and he takes a step closer, but doesn’t try to touch Jaro again, “We’re friends, yeah? Talk to me.”
Talking is tempting. Talking, getting all this shit off his chest and out of his system would probably help. He’s got the feeling Patrik won’t understand him though, especially since Jaro doesn’t really get what’s going on himself. All he knows is that reality just came crashing around him like a tsunami and he’s confused and upset and the more he thinks about it the more agitated gets.
It was just a kiss- a quick peck on the lips, another on the cheek. The fact that Brian is married doesn’t come as news to anyone, but he does a good enough job at separating home life and work that Jaro’s never actually seen the woman. She didn’t exist in the locker room, at games, at practice- she was some far off dream, she wasn’t real.
And Jaro doesn’t have feelings for Brian (at least, he didn’t think he did) but something about seeing them smiling together, the domesticity of it maybe, it just made his blood turn cold and now he’s replaying that moment over and over in his head and wondering why he had to see it.
He doesn’t want Brian like that, but they’ve gotten close this season, they’re friends. The last thing Jaro wants to be is possessive, but why does Brian need someone else?
“Is it Elliott?”
If Jaro had hackles, they’d be rising defensively and he takes a step back. There’s no way Patrik can know- and the sudden anxiety of being discovered must show on his face because elaborates, “He’s playing, you’re not. Are you jealous?”
That makes more sense and Jaro relaxes a bit, lets his guard down a little and he has to remind himself that Patrik is his teammate, not his enemy.
“That’s not it,” Jaro tells him, takes a deep breath and tries to think of an excuse- “I’m just tired.”
The space between them closes and Jaro isn’t too surprised to find arms wrapped around his shoulders and Patrik is careful not to agitate anything, something Jaro’s grateful for.
“I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Jaro considers the offer for the rest of the day and he’s certain Patrik just said it to sound nice, because they’re also friends, but he thinks Patrik isn’t expecting anything from him.
No one is.
26 april 2012The difference between now and a month ago rapidly becomes a huge thorn in Jaro’s side, digging in deeper and deeper with each passing day and maybe it’s because this is playoffs and everyone just needs that extra amount of support that he sees Brian’s wife around the practice stadium all the time now. More likely, he’s just never noticed.
Things were really tricky directly after his injury, but he’s allowed to come to practices now even if he can’t actually take part in them. He watches sometimes, when he’s not getting the kinks in his back massaged out or doing light physical therapy. The change of pace is bittersweet because on the one hand, not playing is killing him. But it also means he can sit calmly on the bench and just enjoy the sight.
It means he can watch Brian, catch him after practice and he’s actually got things to say- compliments on how great his save on TJ was, or how beautiful his butterflies are.
By the time everyone’s in and out of the locker room, changed up and ready to go, Brian’s wife- is her name Amanda? Jaro can never remember- always beats him to the punch. And she seems nice, looks friendly, smiles often, but Jaro can’t get past the fact that they’re holding hands and he can’t stop staring.
The decision to call Patrik isn’t a very difficult one after a week of being injured because he knows he’s halfway between falling to pieces silently and exploding in the worst way.
They meet up for dinner at a crappy little restaurant a block away from Patrik’s apartment and Jaro spends the entire hour in painful silence, nibbling half heartedly at a steak too rare for him to really enjoy and drinking more wine than he really should. He knows he’s being a horrible date, except for the part where this isn’t a date, it’s just dinner, but Patrik does a good job of putting up with his pathetic mood.
So when Patrik suggests they go back to his place, Jaro agrees because he’s more than a little drunk and because Patrik doesn’t look like he’s going to take no for an answer.
“Whatever bothers you, you need to say it,” Patrik tells him once they’re settled in his living room, “This isn’t good for you.”
Jaro toys with the idea of making up another lie, or even telling the truth, but he doesn’t even know how to begin telling the truth because he doesn’t really understand his feelings to begin with. He’s been thinking on it all week- about Brian, hockey, his injury- and he’s come to the conclusion that it’s the combination of both the frustration of his injury and the fact that he may or may not have some rather repressed feelings for Brian that’s turning him into a wreck.
Telling all of this to Patrik is a horrible idea, but Jaro is drunk and he ends up spilling it all anyway and he can’t even bring himself to care that Patrik might freak out on him.
And surprisingly, there is no freak out.
“You’re lonely,” is all that Patrik says, just before sliding over on the couch and pulling Jaro into an embrace and he’s so warm, Jaro doesn’t remember ever being near someone this hot.
Laying together is more comfortable than Jaro wants to admit, but he closes his eyes and lets Patrik hold him, takes comfort in the way his chest rises and falls so slowly and he can hear his heartbeat- a heavy thrum in Patrik’s chest.
He realizes he’s a lot more drunk than he thought when he starts to cry because Jaro never cries. Not when he was ten and his grandfather died, or when he was drafted into the NHL; not when the Canadiens lost out on the Stanley, or when he was traded away and Carey didn't even see him off.
But he’s crying now- the cathartic sort of crying- and Patrik is murmuring something against his neck, he thinks it might be Swedish and it doesn’t really matter what either of them is saying or wants to say right now because it just hurts so much.
His shoulders heave, fingers shaking as he clutches the front of Patrik’s shirt and he knows now- this is what it is to have a broken heart.
27 april 2012Jaro wakes up and his head is pounding in a way he’s never remembered it pounding before. He’s vaguely aware of his surroundings and he remembers enough of last night to know he stayed at Patrik’s place, in the guest room, by himself. He’s grateful for that much, but it bothers him that he’s still wearing his jeans from the night before and the rest of his clothes are no where to be found.
It takes him a minute to realize that the scent of coffee and toast is what drew him from slumber and he inhales deeply- trying to gauge his reaction to the thought of food and his stomach doesn’t turn.
Patrik is in the kitchen and he’s wearing nothing but an embarrassing pair of Blues pajama pants that Jaro thinks was actually part of the women’s line, but he isn’t about to tell Patrik that.
“Feeling okay?” Patrik asks, not turning from the stove where it looks like he might be making pancakes, “You were a little difficult to get into bed last night.”
Jaro blushes. “Sorry.”
He knows from experience with other players, other people he’s befriended over the years, that he’s horrible at conversation, especially in the morning and even more so when he’s got some sort of emotional investment and the fact that Patrik doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that most of what comes out of his mouth is one to three word answers is a relief. Of course, Patrik doesn’t talk much either, but he isn’t as awkward as Jaro.
“Sit. There’s coffee.”
They eat in silence, except for the occasional ‘pass the syrup’ or ‘weather’s nice today.’ It’s been a long time since Jaro’s felt this comfortable with someone other than his own family and maybe it’s because in a way, he and Patrik are so similar- not only because they’re both from Europe, but because where Jaro has his own demons lurking over his shoulder, Patrik has TJ. It isn’t something they’ve talked about, it’s just one of those things that everyone knows.
Tomorrow is the first game against the Kings and practice is essential in this last day before the series begins. Jaro isn’t at all surprised when Patrik glances over at the stovetop clock and mutters a quick, “Gotta get ready, can you wash up?”
It’s strangely domestic to stand in his kitchen and wash, but Jaro does it without hesitation and he’s in the process of drying off the last of the dishes when Patrik comes by like a tornado because he can’t find his shoes.
“I guess you’re not coming in today?” he asks, struggling to stay upright and tie the laces of the one shoe he could find at the same time. The result is that he’s standing precariously on one foot, knee tucked almost under his chin as he wobbles from side to side and for the first time in days, Jaro laughs.
“No, I’m going home to sleep,” Jaro replies as he dries his hands.
He hangs the towel back up on the hook on the cabinets and suddenly, there’s heat on his back and hands resting on his hips gently.
“You can stay here, if you want. So you’re not alone later.”
Patrik’s voice is low, breath tickling his ear and it’s sensual- unexpectedly so. Jaro nods and he can practically feel Patrik’s smile on his skin.
“Try not to burn down the house.”
They walk to the door together and before leaving, Patrik pauses; he looks like he’s thinking hard about something and then his lips press against Jaro’s forehead. It’s so quick, just a brush of skin and it’s really no different than what they did last night, which was a whole lot of nothing, but Jaro’s heart warms at the touch.
Nothing is going to fix the hole in his chest any time soon, Jaro knows this, but that doesn’t mean he can’t let Patrik start to fill the gap.
X x X x X
[ 20 Halak Fics ]
author : russian torque
pairing : patrik berglund / jaroslav halak ; unrequited jaroslav halak / brian elliott
words : ~2,000
rating : PG-13
note : takes place in the gap between the sharks & kings series
11 | friends | 23 april 2012“You okay?”
Jaro doesn’t notice Patrik walking with him on his way to the parking garage and hearing his voice is startling. The shock lasts less than a second and he’s back in his own head, ignoring the world around him because it’s easier than actually acknowledging what’s going on.
Unfortunately, Patrik isn’t the giving up sort and he speeds up to match Jaro’s pace, fingers catching on his arm and he’s talking again, asking questions he hasn’t earned the answers to and Jaro doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He just wants to go home, go to bed, and pretend today never happened.
“What’s wrong?” he tries again and this time he’s got a firm grip on Jaro’s wrist, “Is it the injury?”
Jaro pulls back so hard that the motion of yanking his arm away twists his back a little and sends a sharp spark down his spine. He flinches and tries to hide it, but the heat of the pain dulls the turmoil in his chest a little.
“Fine,” Jaro bites out, “I’m fine.”
It’s such a painfully blatant lie that Jaro just about chokes on it, forces the words out like they’re burning his throat and he wishes his throat was on fire right now. Or his eyes- if he didn’t have eyes, he wouldn’t have seen-
“Bullshit,” Patrik snaps back and he takes a step closer, but doesn’t try to touch Jaro again, “We’re friends, yeah? Talk to me.”
Talking is tempting. Talking, getting all this shit off his chest and out of his system would probably help. He’s got the feeling Patrik won’t understand him though, especially since Jaro doesn’t really get what’s going on himself. All he knows is that reality just came crashing around him like a tsunami and he’s confused and upset and the more he thinks about it the more agitated gets.
It was just a kiss- a quick peck on the lips, another on the cheek. The fact that Brian is married doesn’t come as news to anyone, but he does a good enough job at separating home life and work that Jaro’s never actually seen the woman. She didn’t exist in the locker room, at games, at practice- she was some far off dream, she wasn’t real.
And Jaro doesn’t have feelings for Brian (at least, he didn’t think he did) but something about seeing them smiling together, the domesticity of it maybe, it just made his blood turn cold and now he’s replaying that moment over and over in his head and wondering why he had to see it.
He doesn’t want Brian like that, but they’ve gotten close this season, they’re friends. The last thing Jaro wants to be is possessive, but why does Brian need someone else?
“Is it Elliott?”
If Jaro had hackles, they’d be rising defensively and he takes a step back. There’s no way Patrik can know- and the sudden anxiety of being discovered must show on his face because elaborates, “He’s playing, you’re not. Are you jealous?”
That makes more sense and Jaro relaxes a bit, lets his guard down a little and he has to remind himself that Patrik is his teammate, not his enemy.
“That’s not it,” Jaro tells him, takes a deep breath and tries to think of an excuse- “I’m just tired.”
The space between them closes and Jaro isn’t too surprised to find arms wrapped around his shoulders and Patrik is careful not to agitate anything, something Jaro’s grateful for.
“I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Jaro considers the offer for the rest of the day and he’s certain Patrik just said it to sound nice, because they’re also friends, but he thinks Patrik isn’t expecting anything from him.
No one is.
26 april 2012The difference between now and a month ago rapidly becomes a huge thorn in Jaro’s side, digging in deeper and deeper with each passing day and maybe it’s because this is playoffs and everyone just needs that extra amount of support that he sees Brian’s wife around the practice stadium all the time now. More likely, he’s just never noticed.
Things were really tricky directly after his injury, but he’s allowed to come to practices now even if he can’t actually take part in them. He watches sometimes, when he’s not getting the kinks in his back massaged out or doing light physical therapy. The change of pace is bittersweet because on the one hand, not playing is killing him. But it also means he can sit calmly on the bench and just enjoy the sight.
It means he can watch Brian, catch him after practice and he’s actually got things to say- compliments on how great his save on TJ was, or how beautiful his butterflies are.
By the time everyone’s in and out of the locker room, changed up and ready to go, Brian’s wife- is her name Amanda? Jaro can never remember- always beats him to the punch. And she seems nice, looks friendly, smiles often, but Jaro can’t get past the fact that they’re holding hands and he can’t stop staring.
The decision to call Patrik isn’t a very difficult one after a week of being injured because he knows he’s halfway between falling to pieces silently and exploding in the worst way.
They meet up for dinner at a crappy little restaurant a block away from Patrik’s apartment and Jaro spends the entire hour in painful silence, nibbling half heartedly at a steak too rare for him to really enjoy and drinking more wine than he really should. He knows he’s being a horrible date, except for the part where this isn’t a date, it’s just dinner, but Patrik does a good job of putting up with his pathetic mood.
So when Patrik suggests they go back to his place, Jaro agrees because he’s more than a little drunk and because Patrik doesn’t look like he’s going to take no for an answer.
“Whatever bothers you, you need to say it,” Patrik tells him once they’re settled in his living room, “This isn’t good for you.”
Jaro toys with the idea of making up another lie, or even telling the truth, but he doesn’t even know how to begin telling the truth because he doesn’t really understand his feelings to begin with. He’s been thinking on it all week- about Brian, hockey, his injury- and he’s come to the conclusion that it’s the combination of both the frustration of his injury and the fact that he may or may not have some rather repressed feelings for Brian that’s turning him into a wreck.
Telling all of this to Patrik is a horrible idea, but Jaro is drunk and he ends up spilling it all anyway and he can’t even bring himself to care that Patrik might freak out on him.
And surprisingly, there is no freak out.
“You’re lonely,” is all that Patrik says, just before sliding over on the couch and pulling Jaro into an embrace and he’s so warm, Jaro doesn’t remember ever being near someone this hot.
Laying together is more comfortable than Jaro wants to admit, but he closes his eyes and lets Patrik hold him, takes comfort in the way his chest rises and falls so slowly and he can hear his heartbeat- a heavy thrum in Patrik’s chest.
He realizes he’s a lot more drunk than he thought when he starts to cry because Jaro never cries. Not when he was ten and his grandfather died, or when he was drafted into the NHL; not when the Canadiens lost out on the Stanley, or when he was traded away and Carey didn't even see him off.
But he’s crying now- the cathartic sort of crying- and Patrik is murmuring something against his neck, he thinks it might be Swedish and it doesn’t really matter what either of them is saying or wants to say right now because it just hurts so much.
His shoulders heave, fingers shaking as he clutches the front of Patrik’s shirt and he knows now- this is what it is to have a broken heart.
27 april 2012Jaro wakes up and his head is pounding in a way he’s never remembered it pounding before. He’s vaguely aware of his surroundings and he remembers enough of last night to know he stayed at Patrik’s place, in the guest room, by himself. He’s grateful for that much, but it bothers him that he’s still wearing his jeans from the night before and the rest of his clothes are no where to be found.
It takes him a minute to realize that the scent of coffee and toast is what drew him from slumber and he inhales deeply- trying to gauge his reaction to the thought of food and his stomach doesn’t turn.
Patrik is in the kitchen and he’s wearing nothing but an embarrassing pair of Blues pajama pants that Jaro thinks was actually part of the women’s line, but he isn’t about to tell Patrik that.
“Feeling okay?” Patrik asks, not turning from the stove where it looks like he might be making pancakes, “You were a little difficult to get into bed last night.”
Jaro blushes. “Sorry.”
He knows from experience with other players, other people he’s befriended over the years, that he’s horrible at conversation, especially in the morning and even more so when he’s got some sort of emotional investment and the fact that Patrik doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that most of what comes out of his mouth is one to three word answers is a relief. Of course, Patrik doesn’t talk much either, but he isn’t as awkward as Jaro.
“Sit. There’s coffee.”
They eat in silence, except for the occasional ‘pass the syrup’ or ‘weather’s nice today.’ It’s been a long time since Jaro’s felt this comfortable with someone other than his own family and maybe it’s because in a way, he and Patrik are so similar- not only because they’re both from Europe, but because where Jaro has his own demons lurking over his shoulder, Patrik has TJ. It isn’t something they’ve talked about, it’s just one of those things that everyone knows.
Tomorrow is the first game against the Kings and practice is essential in this last day before the series begins. Jaro isn’t at all surprised when Patrik glances over at the stovetop clock and mutters a quick, “Gotta get ready, can you wash up?”
It’s strangely domestic to stand in his kitchen and wash, but Jaro does it without hesitation and he’s in the process of drying off the last of the dishes when Patrik comes by like a tornado because he can’t find his shoes.
“I guess you’re not coming in today?” he asks, struggling to stay upright and tie the laces of the one shoe he could find at the same time. The result is that he’s standing precariously on one foot, knee tucked almost under his chin as he wobbles from side to side and for the first time in days, Jaro laughs.
“No, I’m going home to sleep,” Jaro replies as he dries his hands.
He hangs the towel back up on the hook on the cabinets and suddenly, there’s heat on his back and hands resting on his hips gently.
“You can stay here, if you want. So you’re not alone later.”
Patrik’s voice is low, breath tickling his ear and it’s sensual- unexpectedly so. Jaro nods and he can practically feel Patrik’s smile on his skin.
“Try not to burn down the house.”
They walk to the door together and before leaving, Patrik pauses; he looks like he’s thinking hard about something and then his lips press against Jaro’s forehead. It’s so quick, just a brush of skin and it’s really no different than what they did last night, which was a whole lot of nothing, but Jaro’s heart warms at the touch.
Nothing is going to fix the hole in his chest any time soon, Jaro knows this, but that doesn’t mean he can’t let Patrik start to fill the gap.
X x X x X
[ 20 Halak Fics ]