Keep Me Close- Chapter XII
Team: San Jose Sharks
Pairing: Joe Thornton/Evgeni Nabokov
Rating: G, because I’m actually pretty sure nothing bad happens… Jeremy might say something once, but what can you do? That man’s untamable.
Summary: Not all in San Jose is sunny as the path to the Stanley Cup proves to be as difficult as ever; falling in love might be the simplest task on this year’s agenda.
Editor: Sherlockelly
Chapter I Chapter VII
Chapter II Chapter VIII
Chapter III Chapter IX
Chapter IV Chapter X
Chapter V Chapter XI
Chapter VI
Disclaimer: I would kill to have this be real. But my record is clean so it’s not. Unfortunately.
Chapter XII
Evgeni’s heart stopped when a shadow blocked some of the filtered light from passing though the crack at the bottom of the door. It opened slowly and Evgeni held himself until he saw Joe groggily standing across from him.
The surprise on Joe’s face was evident as he rubbed his bare chest with one hand and held the door open with the other. A choked cry escaped Evgeni’s throat and a watery smile spread over his face. His legs stumbled forward, but he stopped himself a step away, searching Joe’s face wildly.
He held his arms to his chest, over his rapidly beating heart, waiting for Joe to act first. The other stood soundly, still massaging his chest with his left hand. His movements paused and his lips tweaked minutely. His face split with a tired smile. He stopped the door with his hip and held out his long arms, inviting Evgeni to fall into them.
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They stood in the open doorway and let time escape them.
Evgeni’s body trembled in Joe’s hold, and the larger man tightened his arms around the other’s neck, gripping his own arms for support. Long fingers dug into Joe’s back, the hold desperate. With his head pressed into Joe’s chest, Evgeni murmured incoherently, and his lips mouthed unknown words into warm flesh.
Five minutes passed, then ten; they held each other until Joe lost circulation in his arms for clenching them too tightly. But even then they did not let go.
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Joe could not think of Evgeni without the lump of self-hatred growing heavier in his heart. What he would have given to have been able to take his accusing words back. He promised Evgeni- he promised his best friend that he would be patient.
Everything had been… peaceful up until when he opened his mouth. Evgeni was smiling more often, even if it was only with Joe. But Joe in turn felt more at home when he was off the ice, even if he only realized it when he was with Evgeni. Their life was a lie, but it was progress.
And Joe brought reality crashing down with one conversation.
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He was woken by a faint tapping. Joe had been restless that night, tossing and turning, unable to allow himself the mercy of a peaceful sleep. The regularly calming deep breathing of Patrick became mocking, and it buzzed in Joe’s few dreams, coupled with images of haunted eyes.
Joe thought the sound was his delusional brain finally getting to him. But the knocking came again, more persistent, and Joe was compelled to answer the door. If he was lucky, it was Death who had come to take him from his wretched life, for he only brought despair into the lives of others anyway.
With little more prompting, he flipped over onto his other side for the countless time, turning on the light on his side of the nightstand. Quietly, he slipped past Patrick’s slumbering form; if he was going, he might as well not worry the captain on his way down. Insomnia-induced blurriness was his logical reasoning for not checking who was out his door through the peephole, but his tired mind argued that if he did in fact see Death standing outside his door, he might have rethought his actions and not answered it.
Imagine his surprise when Joe saw not Death, but Evgeni standing before him under the archway to his room.
Joe brought a hand to his heart, wondering if its rabid beat was as loud to the other as it was in his own ears. He was caught between pinching himself to see if he had finally fallen asleep, or smothering the man, while whispering how sorry he was a thousand times over. His mind froze with the decision, but Evgeni chose for him.
The man before Joe stumbled forwards blindly, his short patience suddenly a wondrous quality. But he held himself back from taking the final step, his cautious nature reappearing and freezing his actions.
The quick movement was a slap in the face to Joe, and he was shaken from his air of reluctant disbelief. A mixture of alarm, guilt and relief flashed in Evgeni’s wild eyes at the same time, each emotion fighting to predominate in his mind.
Pure happiness washed over Joe like a mighty wave, sudden and strong. His mask of surprise cracked and through it, his elation peaked through. Then it was in his eyes and on his lips, nearly spilling down his face as well.
He opened his arms wide; his throat closed and his eyes asked the silent question for absolution. Joe knew he was forgiven when his arms were full of Evgeni’s warm, hard body.
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“Oh Joe, I didn’t mhean to-”
“Shhh, I heard ya the first time. You need to stop so I can tell you I’m sorry.”
“But-”
“Ya got nothing to be sorry for.”
“That’s nhot true.”
Joe and Evgeni sat, huddled together on the floor of the hallway just outside Joe’s room. They closed the door when Patrick began to stir.
At first, they chose to merely hold each other in their arms. They were both at a loss for what to say, but they were content with soaking in the moment when they knew life was right again, at least for a little while.
Joe broke the silence when he began to stroke Evgeni’s damp hair and hummed softly in his ear. The moment hit Evgeni suddenly by the time Joe’s hand reached the base of his scalp.
Hot tears rolled freely down his cheeks, creating wet tracks in their wake. Evgeni’s face retained its blissful composure as he continued to cry. He looped his heavy arms around Joe’s neck and placed his temple daintily on Joe’s collar. The body leaning on Joe’s naked chest was warm; he could feel it through the thin fabric of Evgeni’s cotton shirt.
From then on, Joe let his heart speak freely, for he was unable to keep the ongoing lie with Evgeni any longer. He was afraid that if he did, he really would lose the man forever.
“How could you possibly want to come back and find me? After everything I did?” Joe asked, curious and a little bit worried as to what the answer would be as well. ‘What if he came to say goodbye?’
“I mhissed you so much. It… it felt like I whas stabbing you in the back,” Evgeni whispered, his breath ghosting over Joe’s neck, and oh how he had missed that feeling.
Joe shook his head at Evgeni’s illusion of himself. He did not feel betrayed at all, rather, he felt as though he was the one with the shameful knife in his hands.
“Naw, I told ya I’d wait…I get that you were upset,” Joe offered without a second thought.
“I-Iya…” Evgeni began, but his voice cracked with emotion and he paused to bury his nose into the crook of Joe’s neck, searching for any type of sanctuary.
Joe offered the safety to Evgeni gladly. By body and words, he gave all of himself to Evgeni.
They sat like that until Evgeni could find his words, and the other man waited as if he had all the time in the world to spare. Evgeni inhaled deeply, which tickled the sensitive flesh of Joe’s neck, and he schooled himself to speak again.
“Iya am so sorry that I have been… pushing you away,” his apology was hot on Joe’s prickling skin. “When you deserve… you deserve so much mhore from me..." he drifted off, unsure of what to say next.
“And I’ll be waiting for when yer ready, I promise,” Joe cooed when the silence overtook his friend once more.
“Bhut that’s it… you deserve to know…” Evgeni continued, his words wavering and his sentences choppy. Joe could plainly see the internal battle raging in Evgeni’s mind, and Joe had no idea what would be of the outcome.
“Do ya want to tell me then, Yevs?” Joe whispered into Evgeni’s hair, his voice even, not trying to influence Evgeni’s decision with his tone.
“I-Iya think I have to,” Evgeni swallowed quickly.
Joe did not persist any longer, choosing to wait until the dust settled and Evgeni could come to a sound conclusion.
After another five minutes, Evgeni cleared his throat. “Ah… o-over the summer…” he paused to lick his pink lips. “Um… After ghame six in Dallas actually…”
Joe ‘hm’ed with distaste.
“This is stupid rheally,” Evgeni mumbled, turning away from the body that was holding him.
Joe sighed with exasperation, but hid it well. He rubbed the length of Evgeni’s arm, smoothing down the goosebumps with his palm, urging Evgeni to continue.
“I mhean… no, nhevermind.”
“You were a couple hours late to the jet I heard,” Joe offered when Evgeni could not find words to speak. “We all fell asleep after the first hour, but Ron was, uh… well, you know how he gets.”
The man shivered with the memories. “Oh… r-right,” Evgeni’s stutter replaced his concrete resolve, the tide turning in the battle in his mind.
Joe sighed again, more from exhaustion this time. “You obviously feel like ya need to tell someone, right?” he questioned softly, hoping to give Evgeni the tiny extra push.
It worked. The pale fists clenched tighter in Evgeni’s lap and his back tensed under Joe’s arm. “Yeah.”
Joe waited until Evgeni spoke again.
After a deep breath, the man stilled his shaking shoulders. “Whell, a-after the game… I whas… I whas attacked by these guys and, ah… they had guns and, um… they knocked me out and took my wallet… yeah.”
“Yevs t-that’s horrible! Jesus, why didn’t ya tell anyone?” Joe gasped, staring with wide, sympathetic eyes at the top of Evgeni’s head.
Evgeni sputtered at the quick question before he answered into Joe’s neck again. “W-why didn’t Iya tell anyone? Whell, um… it whasn’t that big of a deal, I mhean… I have money to spare, and…” he trailed off, sounding as though he might add on to his story, but he shifted in Joe’s arms choosing to end it there.
Cocking an eyebrow, Joe thought back on the past few months, accounting for the minute oddities in Evgeni’s behavior. To his disappointment, there were quite a few.
“Ya mean at the time.”
“Huh?” Evgeni finally looked back up, his once wild eyes grey again.
“You mean it wasn’t a big deal at the time, right?”
Evgeni just stared back with confusion etched into his features. A moment passed and the question dawned on him. His eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously.
“Y-yeah, Iya... dream abhout it… sometimes.” He grew quieter until his last words barely breezed past his lips.
The colorless face and suddenly cold body leaning against Joe made him shiver with the lack of warmth on his bare skin. The depressing story made his blood run cold as well. “I-I’m sorry Evgeni, I didn’t know,” Joe whispered, troubled with the state of mind his friend was in. He probably could not even stand the dark anymore, Joe thought sadly.
“Y-yeah… I’m glad… Iya told you.” His sentences were confused and unsure, probably from the fear of reliving through the events.
He yawned and Joe followed suit, suddenly aware of the sleep pressing down on his shoulders and eyelids. When he peered back down, he saw imploring grey eyes scanning over his tired face.
“You should prhobably go to bed,” Evgeni whispered, looking no less exhausted than Joe felt, if not more so.
Joe saw the barely concealed fear creeping into Evgeni’s dark eyes, and his next decision was the simplest of the night. “I’m staying with you until we have to get up. I’m not leaving you, remember?”
Fear was replaced by relief, and Evgeni smiled hesitantly. “And you forghot your key?”
“Nope.” Joe patted the pocket on his hip.
-----
For the next hour, before the team had to leave to catch the flight home, Joe finally slept soundly, with Evgeni curled up tight in his arms.
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Time went on as though nothing had happened, oblivious to lives of individuals. The team could feel the tension if a single player radiated stress, and when that happened, the entire team’s performance went down.
Whether the team knew it or not, Joe and Evgeni had mended their friendship and the Sharks were playing like they did in the very beginning of the season.
They left Anaheim behind, choosing instead to look to their next games. The day after the thrashing to the Ducks, the Sharks squeaked by 5-4 in overtime.
Joe handed off the puck to Dan who scored the game-winning goal, no problem. Excitement pounded through Joe’s body at the sound of the horn, and he tackled Dan in a hug which pulled both of them down to the ground, smiles wide on both of their faces.
The next week passed, they won two and lost one. Brian Boucher even got his second shutout of the year against Brad and Dan’s former team in Tampa Bay.
During the long practices, the game days and the off days, Joe and Evgeni managed to spend their free time with each other. Sometimes it was going to lunch in downtown San Jose, or watching a game at one of their apartments, or just enjoying each other’s company without saying anything, only preparing themselves for the game ahead of them.
And then it was the week that the fans had been waiting for. The Stanley Cup runner-up and the champion were coming to San Jose.
Truthfully, Joe did not give the games that much extra thought. They were going to play their best, and if they did not win, they would try three times as hard next time they met.
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Evgeni smiled in Joe’s direction across the ice during the warm-up for the Penguins game. Silent poise emanated from the man. Joe felt confidence swell in him and he smiled broadly back.
The Tank screamed with delight when the Sharks beat the Penguins 2-1. Joe was just as happy as the fans when Evgeni laughed as they bumped helmets after the win.
The next day was an easy practice; no sprints, no endurance drills, just… two hours of playing hockey. If the team was disappointed, they did not show it. Afterwards, Evgeni treated Joe to a 6-2 loss in Halo, and Joe was annoyed with himself for ever showing Evgeni his stupid Xbox in the first place.
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Then it was game day against the Red Wings. Around town, a few people were already sporting their teal sweaters proudly, and mocking the few in red. Devin asked Todd in a honey-coated voice if he was excited to face his former mentor, just as the reporters insisted on asking him earlier. The sophomore earned himself twenty more minutes of sprints for his smart-ass comment.
It was during the warm-ups again when Joe caught Evgeni’s smile through the cage of his mask. Even more confidence than from before fueled Joe and he stood a little taller.
They were the last two on the ice and all of the pucks were in the back of the net. Joe picked up speed on the far-side of the boards and brought his stick back to swing at the air hovering above the ice. He released his shot, following through the motions ingrained into his brain.
Evgeni reacted just the same, the threat of a puck or not. Diving to his left, he caught the air in his glove as Joe circled around the net, watching mirthfully the entire time. Evgeni joined Joe on his way back to the bench, and with a laugh deep in his chest, threw the nonexistent puck at Joe’s head.
The Sharks won that game as well, 4-2.
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“We won and Obama’s the president. This, boys, is a great day in American history,” joked Jeremy after the Sharks defeated the Wild 3-1. The team laughed as they took off their equipment to clean up and head home.
“Don’t forget we don’t have a practice tomorrow, either,” Ryane added with a smile as he dropped his towel and slipped his boxers on.
“Jesus Clowie, put some pants on. And are you saying that I’d forget that in my old age? I’m not too old to punch you in the face, young man.”
The locker room was filled with good-spirits and wide smiles. This was how Joe found his teammates after leaving the showers to wash the sweat and grime off of his body. He held a towel at his waist and swung another over his shoulders, patting himself dry from any extra water that he may have missed.
Joe passed Evgeni on his way to his bag and flicked him lightly in the back of the head. The man looked up in surprise from peeling the tight, black undershirt from his body. He saw Joe looking over his shoulder expectantly and Evgeni sent a tired smile back.
Joe continued to watch as Evgeni resumed stripping himself of his sweaty shirt and turned away when the man tossed it into the dirty laundry.
Marc-Edouard’s long groan was heard from across the room. “I can so wait until the next game; it feels like I could sleep for a week.”
Ryane laughed, looking pointedly at Jeremy before he spoke. “And here I thought JR was the old man.” Joe hid a chuckle, as the veteran was standing right next to him. The locker room quieted when Jeremy raised a hand.
“That’s all very nice and hilarious Clowie, but let’s not forget that I am merely the second oldest here.” Every player turned their gazes to Rob Blake, and the thirty-nine year old sighed.
“And here I though you were supposed to respect your elders.”
Mumbled ‘not really’s came from around the room and Rob smiled good-naturedly at his team.
“Screw the next game, I want to play the Stars,” Mike announced loudly, his strong voice silencing the men like a raise of Jeremy’s hand. The team looked around with hard faces, each of them remembering their hard fought battles and their final fall from grace. Joe snuck a glance to Evgeni, who froze in the process of unlacing his skate.
“What I wouldn’t do to pound each of their faces in,” Devin growled as he stuffed his bag violently.
Patrick huffed nervously, fiddling with the buttons of his jacket. “Now don’t do anything illegal, Seto.” The captain did not get many agreeing noises from his team, much to Joe’s embarrassment.
“We’ll see, I mean I guess it depends on your definition of illegal, doesn’t it? Shooting someone in the face with a gun is okay if it’s in self-defense, right?”
The majority of the team laughed and Joe took pleasure in seeing Patrick’s eyes widen three times their normal size. “Devin!” he scolded, taken aback.
“Relax Mr. I-got-a-stick-up-my-butt, I’m kidding,” Devin sighed, and swung his bag over his shoulder at the same time. “I’ve got to go home anyway, Torrey started watching our scary movie marathon without me,” he added with a pout.
Ryane perked up at the sound of Torrey’s name. The entire team knew Ryane felt guilty about showing everyone Torrey’s hospital pictures and had yet to make up for it.
Devin gave a stern look to the man, crossing his arms and pausing to think. “He hasn’t forgiven you, but it might help if you get us food.”
“But there aren’t any Cheesecake Factory’s close by,” Ryane groaned, his shoulders sagging to emphasize his displeasure.
“Eh, too bad.”
The two men bickered as Jonathon continued the earlier conversation in a hushed voice, “I know it’s just ‘another game’… but I really want to show them what we can do.” The men listening in nodded in agreement. Joe could not help himself and muttered a ‘yeah’ under his breath.
Patrick groaned and ran his left hand through his short hair. “We aren’t supposed to think about that. Coach said we’ll get there when the time comes and we won’t dwell on it afterwards.” Despite his noble words, Joe did not miss the captain nodding along with Jonathon’s hushed statement.
“Since when did you listen to McLellan, Patty?” Christian asked, leaning forward on his bench.
“He’s been making sense, actually,” Joe interrupted before Patrick could open his mouth. Christian furrowed his brow with confusion.
“Even after he was a… a blödes arschloch to you, Cheech and Nabby?”
Joe shrugged and looked over to the man mentioned, to find that he was hanging onto every last syllable of their words, even if he refused to make eye contact to acknowledge his interest.
Jonathon began to whisper again, “Really though, their captain’s out, but they’ve got Sean Avery this year.”
Joe was about to respond, but a loud clatter near Evgeni made Joe swivel around, worried for the safety of his friend.
His complexion was a sickly white, and he appeared to be shaken up as he bent down to retrieve the skate that he had fallen from his hands. Joe sent Evgeni a quizzical glance, which he shied away from, instead choosing to place the skate in his lap and clutch it tightly until his knuckles turned as pale as his face.
Jonathon was talking again, and Joe’s eyes darted between the left-winger and his goalie, while biting the inside of his cheek at the same time.
“Joe, hey, Jumbo! You listening?” Jonathon laughed out, the other listeners of the conversation looking to him intently.
“U-um… sorry, say that again?” Joe asked hesitantly, shaking his head and forcing himself to focus his split attention on Jonathon. But he found his will to be not as strong as he thought when he found himself looking back to Evgeni as the other man began talking. “Wait, where’s Yev-Evgeni?”
Seconds ago, the man was sitting on his bench and dropping things. But now his area was empty, and no trace of him ever being there was left behind. ‘He probably just went to take a shower,’ Joe thought hopefully.
Jody looked up from clasping his watch back onto his wrist. “Nabby? He just went home, right after he dropped his skate.”
Joe was speechless and Jonathon rolled his eyes, frustrated for being interrupted for the forth time. He choose to turn his conversation to only include Christian and Patrick, seeing as though they were the only two interested in what he had to say.
Joe tuned the conversation out completely and began to pack up for the night, sighing sadly at the same time. Evgeni did not even stop to say goodbye.
-----
The next day Joe called Evgeni, inviting him over to play like he was in elementary school again. He even offered a round of complain-free Halo on his part, but his calls were never returned. Joe went to bed that night wondering what he had done that time to mess things up.
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The day after that was the St. Louis game, and all Joe could think about was confronting Evgeni. Hopefully the encounter would go smoother than the last time he had cornered his goaltender.
But such dire methods were never needed to be taken. When Joe found Evgeni in the locker room in the late morning, he received a happy smile and a small wave. Joe was utterly confused, but accepted the change of events if it meant he and Evgeni were still friends.
He did not know what he would do if he lost him again.
All through the day Evgeni acted as though nothing was wrong, and for all Joe knew, there was nothing wrong. During the game he stayed light-hearted and optimistic, cracking a joke every once and a while when only Joe could hear.
When the third period ended 4-4, Joe could see the various emotions flickering across Evgeni’s face. He could not discern them, but he did not question his goaltender’s concentration.
The next five minutes ticked off the clock ever so slowly, until it read 0.0, the score still tied at four. Joe looked to his goaltender from his vantage point on the bench, and realized that he was not as nervous as he probably should have been. He had complete faith in his friend, but he just wished that it would never have to come to this point to decide the game.
The Sharks took the first shot, it was not a goal. The Blues bested Evgeni to take the lead first.
The second round came and both goalies managed to keep the puck out of their net.
Then the third round tied the shootout at one apiece when St. Louis failed on gaining the extra goal to win.
Ryane made the next goal, low, stick side; giving the Sharks a chance to win. The sudden-death hit Joe like the back check he never saw coming. He leaned forward in his seat as Berglund picked the puck from center ice and gained speed towards the goal, towards Evgeni.
The rookie leaned to his right and Evgeni followed his movements. Joe sucked in a breath and held it as Berglund waited to find his chance to shoot. Evgeni waited longer, and forced the puck to go wide when he extended his left leg out. The game was won, 5-4.
Joe whooped and hollered, jumping off the bench to share the win with Evgeni. But as he glided over, Evgeni did not get up.
As he lay there on the ice, his face buried in his arms and his legs bent at a strange angle, Joe was certain that his heart had stopped beating.
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Review to make my day not so horrible? These butt-faces whom I am writing about decided to play horrible and make me a sad person.