Keep Me Close- Chapter XXIII
Team: San Jose Sharks
Pairing: Joe Thornton/Evgeni Nabokov
Rating: PG-13
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: None for now. You’ve been warned! And You are missed Kelly, have a better life soon, please <3
A/N: You have a present at the end! Be sure to read before you see what it is!
Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII | Chapter XIV | Chapter XV | Chapter XVI Part one | Chapter XVI Part two | Chapter XVII part one | Chapter XVII part two | Chapter XVIII | Chapter XVIII | Chapter XIX | Chapter XX | Chapter XXI | Chapter XXII
Disclaimer: No
-Chapter XXIII-
“Yer smiling,” he pointed out, ignoring the fact that it was completely obvious as to what the other man was doing.
Nevertheless, Evgeni shrugged, his head bobbing in agreement, his lips still tugging upwards.
“It’s nice ta see you happy.”
“… It’s nhice to be happy,” Evgeni responded quietly, before Todd ushered the team to their respected positions on the ice.
The Sharks beat the Canucks that night, five to zero.
-----
“You’re coming over tonight, right?” Patrick’s voice rumbled over the phone.
Pausing, Joe furrowed his brow and looked around, as if his answer was a physical thing. Nothing appeared to him despite his wandering eyes, as was to be expected, and he brought the phone back to his ear.
“Er… what?” he replied with a befuddled grunt.
The other man laughed, and Joe skirted his gaze about his apartment again, anything to occupy his mind in place of his confusion. But Patrick’s laugh eventually subsided, and Joe’s question was answered.
“Christmas Eve? The team party? Like we do every year?” The string of questions made Joe’s lips form an O in his realization.
“Shit! It’s Christmas tomorrow, isn’t it?” he swore quietly, his hand slapping over his face in disbelief.
Patrick coughed away from the speaker before his voice piped back up. “Well that’s normally what Christmas Eve is, so, yeah,” he said lightly, his trademark smile obvious even over the phone. Both were silent for a few seconds after that; Patrick was probably waiting for a response, but Joe was simply too tongue-tied from his forgetfulness to say anything. Another gruff cough made Joe shake his head to snap back to attention as Patrick began to speak.
“So you’re gonna be there, yeah?” the disappointment evident in his voice.
Straightening in his seat, a smile tugged at the sides of Joe’s lips. “’Course I’m gonna be there! I still believe in traditions, even if I ferget ’em sometimes,” he laughed, scratching his neck with his free hand and falling back onto the cushions of his couch.
The sigh was barely audible, but the heavy breath from Patrick expressed his relief more effectively than any words could have.
“Good! That’s- oh. Wait… I’ll be back in a second,” he muttered, leaving Joe on the phone, the white noise of the reception buzzing in his ear.
Muffled words between Patrick and another, Joe assumed that is was the soft spoken Christina, could be made out just barely, but their talk about the baby shower did not interest Joe in the least.
The couch still smelled like Evgeni, Joe thought lethargically as the ramblings on the phone became mere droning in his ear. The couch smelled of raspberries too, he added with a reminiscent grin, wondering how pungent the small fruit actually was with the way it still clung to the thinning fibers.
Patrick’s mellow voice cut through Joe’s wandering thoughts before he could come to the other memories that included them and the couch, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and thankful at the same time.
“Gotta go, but be here, seven o’clock.”
Joe nodded and was about to respond with a cheery ‘see you then,’ but the line went dead as the other man already hung up the phone.
“Seven o’clock,” Joe mumbled, throwing the device over his shoulder as he turned on his side and buried his face into the back cushions, inhaling deeply before drifting off to sleep.
-----
Christmas Eve traffic was more congested than Joe remembered, and he would have fully blamed his tardiness for that reason if he didn’t actually oversleep with his nap. Danny had answered the door when he finally arrived, and the crowd of people exploded into mocking cheers when he walked into the foyer of Patrick’s home sheepishly. He was heckled without mercy by his team until someone handed him a beer, and from then on everyone seemed to be in good spirits, ignoring the fact that he showed up an hour late.
The intellectual conversations he had with Todd and Douglas were draining, the constant joking with Brad and Brian were entertaining, and watching Devin drink himself stupid was, well, normal. The rest of the team and many of their wives or girlfriends found it funny though, and if he wasn’t paying only half attention he probably would have found it funny as well.
He knew that Evgeni was there, Patrick told him so when he asked, but he had still to see the man himself, even though thirty minutes had already passed since his arrival. A few more minutes and a half a beer later, Joe was scanning the room while trying to appear interested in whatever Ryane was talking about.
Finally he found the man with his back facing him, standing off to the side of the television, its flickering lights dancing over the crisp lines of his shirt. Joe watched as the lighting expanded and receded in an unpredictable pattern, outlining his shoulders nicely as it moved with him. Evgeni’s hands added more to the conversation he was having with Alexei; the two of them presumably speaking in fast paced Russian. Joe smiled a little at the thought of Evgeni when he flushed with excitement, his native language slipping into his English ramblings, until he was speaking completely in pidgin and not making any sense whatsoever.
From across the room, the man’s spine went rigid, as if he could hear Joe’s wild thoughts. When Alexei turned to add Marcel to their conversation, Evgeni twisted around on the spot, his hack curving in an almost elegant way Joe marveled, until they were facing each other.
Evgeni held a look of bewildered surprise for a second, until it melted away, leaving a timid smile and eyes shining impossibly bright with the television’s flashing screen. He held a mug in his hands, his long thumbs stroking the ceramic cup with drawn out movements, Joe noticed with detached interest. Oh, how he wanted to know what more those fingers could do.
He was about to puff out his chest with bravado, turn his body around fully, and take his first step toward the person who had captured his interest, but Milan decided that moment was best to take Joe by the arm and drag him out to the back porch to catch up.
-----
He couldn’t even remember the gist of what he and the Czech were talking about. The whole while he was just itching to end the friendly chat so that he would be able to go back inside and confront Evgeni for the first time since the night before. He didn’t mean to sound rude, really he didn’t, but whatever Milan had to talk about just hadn’t interested him. Not contributing to a conversation wasn’t his fault if his thoughts refused to comply with him anyway.
Now he was propped against the railing, the wood pressing into the small of his spine, and becoming uncomfortably coarse at his elbows, which he was using as support as he was leaning back. From his vantage point, he could see the entirety of the rambunctious room through the wall of glass sliding doors. In the open door to Joe’s right, he couldn’t help but laugh at the mistletoe taped above everyone’s heads as they walked in and out of the house.
He glanced down from the hanging plant and nearly jumped in surprise when he found Evgeni sitting on the couch, looking at him with a laugh sparking in his eyes. He remained transfixed like that for a while, glad that everyone outside was too drunk to notice his blatant staring. To help prove his point, Devin was standing a few feet away from him, laughing hysterically with an equally drunk, crutch-free Torrey and not commenting about it.
The urge to wave hit Joe, and despite the cheesiness of it all, he knew that once the idea popped into his head, he was bound to do it. After taking a short glance around him, he was pleased to find that his teammates were simply too intoxicated by this point to really care. So looking back, he plastered on the dorkiest smile he knew he could make, and waved his left hand with a curt jerk of his wrist.
Evgeni snorted and looked away, his face straining with the attempt not to laugh. He glanced back up when the captain walked past him, offering the goaltender a friendly nod. Devin was pulled from his heated argument with his roommate about their present swapping when he spotted Patrick just as he was about to step outside.
“E’eryone shuddup!”
Patrick jerked at the barked words, watching the sophomore wearily as he stopped in his tracks. Torrey giggled and Devin smirked before stumbling unsteadily forward, halting when he was a step away from the captain, although perhaps a little closer than he would have been normally if his depth perception hadn’t gone to shit along with his sobriety.
Between their bodies, Joe caught Evgeni’s eyes again, and the smile that had begun to fade from his face grew with renewed vigor. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the holiday season; that always got him in a cheery mood.
In the back of his mind, he could still hear Devin spewing something about the team, and the captain’s accomplishments, and how thankful he was, and that the party was going great, and a majority of other topics. Not with that coherency of course, but the general message was there.
As he watched Evgeni studying him, Joe noticed the gap between Patrick and Devin’s bodies began to shrink, until the captain stepped back and the younger man stepped forward, obscuring Joe’s view completely.
With little resistance, he found his feet planting firmly on the ground on their own accord, and he was taking brisk steps forward.
“Seto?” the captain’s stern, no nonsense voice echoed in the back of Joe’s head.
He was right in front of the two when he picked up the word ‘mistletoe’ come out of Devin’s mouth, and he shook himself to attention. Devin contorted his muscles into an exaggerated kissy face and leaned in close to Patrick, whose face bore an expression of alarmed incredulity.
Joe was about to step by the two with a chuckle when he stopped short, a heavy numbness spreading throughout his entire body instead when he heard Patrick’s words.
“Stop it Devin… that’s disgusting.”
The bitter repulse held in the man’s voice made the air suddenly very painful to swallow. Wide-eyed, Joe barely registered the fact that Devin bumped into his side after the captain pushed the youth away from him. Patrick left, and Devin sighed before he stumbled back onto the porch, the usual swagger absent in his steps.
Eyes focusing after the first, powerful shock, Joe saw Evgeni gaping at the spot where Patrick had been moments ago, his brow furrowing with a mixture of troubling emotions.
He looked back to Joe, his sad eyes begging for something, anything, but Joe could only cringe as he walked past the man and into another room.
-----
‘Was it disgusting?’
Joe spent the rest of his evening pretending to join in with the conversations with his teammates, but only one thing remained fixated in his mind.
‘I didn’t think it was disgusting…’
Even Patrick was talking to him, as if nothing was wrong. Who knew? Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with the captain. Maybe it was all Joe. That thought terrified him the most.
‘But what if…’
He hadn’t seen Evgeni for the rest of the evening, not that he wanted to have a confrontation at that moment or anything, but he felt so lost. Even while pushing Evgeni out of his head, he still hoped that the man was taking it all right.
‘What if…’
It was 11:32 when Joe decided it best for him to go home. He wasn’t up for false smiles and forced laughter much longer. On his way out, a frazzled and very pregnant Christina asked him kindly to throw away the recycling. He contemplated her begging eyes and took the bag, his lips pulled back in a grin so wide that he was surprised that it didn’t crack.
‘What if it was wrong?’
-----
He bounded down the back porch steps with false enthusiasm, not quite sure who he was fooling. Devin had been heading inside when Joe first exited the house. They both had glanced up at the mistletoe hanging above their heads, and he felt a twinge of sympathy when, while even several beers drunk, Devin sighed heavily and averted his gaze.
He didn’t need any team drama. Hell, he didn’t even know that teams could have drama. Wasn’t that supposed to end after high-school?
Joe just wanted to go home.
He was staring listlessly at the ground by the time he finally entered the side yard, the lights and the sounds of the party subdued to slivers of the actual things. At last he looked up when his extensive knowledge of the Marleau’s household ended at the gated alcove. He froze. Evgeni was on the ground staring wordlessly back at him, his shoulders pressing into the wooden fence, his shoes scuffed with dirt as they dug into the ground. A look of undignified panic crossed his face briefly before it mellowed into strained look of indifference. Joe was sure he displayed much of the same emotions.
He shifted the full plastic bag to his right hand, its contents rustling quietly, the only sound existent in the space between them. He glanced down to the man crouched on the grassy floor before darting his eyes away, focusing intently on the trashcan patiently awaiting his burden. Evgeni’s gaze was trained on him from the moment he had stepped into the clearing, and Joe just knew that the eyes were still locked on him, though he refused to acknowledge the stare.
It was as if a snake was festering in his belly. Coiling and twisting, its scaly body scraped against his insides, its tongue flickering out to tickle the back of his throat. Joe felt as if he was going to throw up.
Was it out of confusion? Fear? Whatever the reason, Joe was ashamed that he couldn’t even bring himself to look in the direction the man, let alone actually look him in the eye.
He bit the inside of his cheek and took his first hesitant step toward the brown trashcan. The snake twisted around his gut when the wet ground squelched under his feet, each stride bringing him closer to his destination, closer to Evgeni.
The rhythmic bass rumbled from inside the house, traces of laughter filtering through to the side yard from the open back door. One more step and Joe could pick up faint words of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ and the distinct masculine voice of Douglas as he sang along with the festive lyrics.
Even his breathing had become suffocatingly loud by this point. The air circulating in his lungs rattled like the dried skin of the snake’s tail, and he felt just as on-edge as he would have been if the serpent was posed to strike before him.
With his heartbeat fluttering in his ears, Joe strode past the huddled man without so much as a passing glance. A shaky, sorrowful sigh cut through the static of their silence; the hollow sound followed by a raspy echo broke Joe’s heart. He wasn’t sure if it came from Evgeni or himself. The strangle around his tensed body loosened, and a dying hiss escaped his mouth when the shadow of the snake left him.
After what seemed like an eternity, Joe faced the trashcan, his shoulders slumping from much more than just the load of garbage he was hefting. He opened the lid with a careless swipe of his arm, apathetic to the banging it made when the hard plastic hit the side of the house. Empty beer bottles clanked together and plastic plates grated against one another in an earsplitting whine as Joe swung the bag into the bin.
Fine hairs prickled at the nape of his neck, and despite the clichéd feel of it all, Joe knew that Evgeni was watching him. If he were to turn around, what would be portrayed in those expressive eyes?
Would Evgeni take back all the things he had said before that night? That he liked it? After all, he had the excessive amounts of alcohol to blame his actions on, while Joe had… well, nothing.
Joe had absolutely nothing from where to pull his excuses from. Not for the enjoyment, not for the confusing emotions; everything had been placed before him in complete clarity, and he had taken it.
When he looked back, he saw that his path was crumbling, and he could only move onward. A thick darkness seemed to hang around him now, the path in front of him just as hazy as the thought process that had led him up to that point.
Hindsight was a wonderful thing.
Eyes unfocused, Joe stood there waiting. His nerves still bounced around in his stomach, the fluttery, anxious feeling making his fingers twitch. The sickness that had washed over him was gone, but Joe didn’t know if he had the willpower to move from his spot. He felt so safe there, his feet planted firmly in the ground, facing away from Evgeni with no possible way for him to see the unknown feeling swirling in those eyes.
If they held some disgust, or distaste, or any other ‘dis-’ word, Joe did not know what he would do. So rooted to the spot, he figured that it was best not to find out at all.
Silence crept into the secluded area, even the music from inside seemed to have died in the presence of such thick tension. Evgeni hadn’t moved from his crouch on the fence opposite Joe, even though he had hoped the man would. But then again, had he really expected as much?
What Patrick had said had left him dumbfounded. He had refused to acknowledge the unexpected situations that occurred out recently as “weird,” and definitely not “disgusting.” He had ignored the fact that he and another man had a dysfunctional relationship budding between them, but he didn’t think there was anything to actually be ashamed of.
The rush of excitement when Evgeni touched his skin seemed more logical to him than the labels of their society ever could, and so he only focused on what felt best. How could that ever be wrong?
Although now, and he hated to even think it… but what if Patrick was right? The uncertainty filled his head and made him almost ill. He found his anger prickling at the captain’s blatant intolerability, and it sickened him to know that the man he thought so highly of could ever speak that way.
But he also couldn’t help worrying if Evgeni felt the same.
Suddenly, the cold December air was sinking into every pore, the ice growing in him like frostbite. It was a dread so powerful that he shuddered at the feeling. He had to leave if the silence continued to grow, in fear that it might engulf him whole.
Clenching his numb fingers into a determined fist, Joe lifted the hand on the lid to cover the trash; he gripped the plastic harder when another shake ripped down his spine. Pausing for a moment’s breath, Joe just barely caught the irregular intake of air and the rustling of clothing on wood. It was the first signs of life since Joe had entered the space.
He was about to shake off the noise as his mind playing tricks on him, but the cough following was undeniable. So Joe waited.
Finally, Evgeni’s voice, now so soft and quiet, managed to trickle through the slowly mounting layers of doubt.
“I don’t think it’s disgusting.”
Joe was caught off guard by the absolute resolve in Evgeni’s tone.
He spun around on the spot, his hand falling away from the lid of the trashcan, letting the plastic snap shut with a bang. Gaping openly, Joe couldn’t help but stare as Evgeni’s hardened grey eyes bore through him. The man’s chin jutted up, his arms wrapped around his legs, which were curled close to his chest. He looked down his straight nose with unwavering certainty.
Joe couldn’t comprehend why it felt as though he was the one sitting alone on the dirty ground, when it was Evgeni who was doing so just across the path. But here he was, shrinking in the man’s stare as if he was the one being looked down upon. The strong command Evgeni held him in was terrifying and electrifying at the same time.
The short sentence hit him like a punch to the chest; he was left winded and confused, Evgeni’s words repeating themselves in his head until they became a jumbled mess, and he was not sure if he heard them correctly.
He coughed once when the words on his tongue refused to form. Looking toward the opening to the backyard, Joe crossed his arms and squeezed his biceps to reassure himself. He found himself turning back, the indescribable strength in Evgeni’s eyes the only push he found that he needed in order to continue.
“W-what did you say?” Even when their eyes locked once more, Joe felt vulnerable in his position, and he blushed at his stutter.
If Evgeni noticed, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, he placed his palms on the fence behind him, using it as leverage as he hefted himself up to his feet silently, his gaze never once leaving Joe’s. A burning ferocity that had been absent from Evgeni’s eyes, apart from the moments on the ice, was now smoldering in his grey pools, almost unnerving in the way they made Joe shiver with anticipation.
With the changes to Evgeni’s demeanor, he still held back, his shoulders pressing into the fence behind him, his hands splayed at his side where he left them.
“It’s nhot,” he whispered, his voice cleaving clear through the quiet.
Joe nodded with understanding, though found himself looking away and holding his arms tighter around his body. Even with Evgeni’s reassurances, he was hesitant to put himself out in the open once again, afraid of being hurt in the way that Patrick had already hurt him.
“Oh…” he whispered. “So… w-were you out here long?” the question was choppy with his desperation to change the subject, as bad of a subject change as it was.
The other man stepped forward, the wooden fence creaking when he removed his weight from the boards. A nervous chuckle left his lips when he stopped a few paces away from Joe’s spot. “Yeah… Iya came out here when yhou left, actually.”
“Oh.” That was three hours ago.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Evgeni’s shoes move as the man shifted in his spot. After humming shortly to acknowledge that he heard the confession, the two men were drowned in overwhelming silence once again.
Joe didn’t know what to say. Of course he was thankful, if not dumbstruck, for the way Evgeni seemed to take control of the situation when it was far too much for his comprehension; he admired the level-head that the other seemed to maintain. But the captain’s words still managed to nag at the back of his mind, despite the disagreement he knew that he held toward them.
What was it that was holding him back? Up to that point, he had been the one to take charge without thinking of the consequences. He liked it so much better when he thought he had some understanding of what was going on. It was hard to believe that set feeling was merely a day ago, that very morning even. He just could not bring himself to match Evgeni’s resolution.
He wanted to. He really did.
“Nabs! Hey, you out here? Don’t tell me ya left already!” Patrick’s voice seemed to boom from the back porch.
Both faltered when the man whom their thoughts were lingering upon wormed his way back into their worried minds. Evgeni shook off the stupor before Joe could even snap his mouth shut.
“I’m out here P-Patty,” the name hesitant on his lips as he brought his hands up to hold his elbows.
“Get up here! I’ve barely seen you all night!” The captain was unjustly exuberant, for all the second guessing and uncertainty that he had caused.
“Oh, um. A-all right,” he mumbled half for the other to hear and half for himself before turning back to Joe, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. Joe offered a shrug in return, unsure of what to say, unsure if anything more could be said.
“Iya should go,” Evgeni whispered forlornly, his words laced with regret and something that Joe could not place.
Nodding dumbly for the last time, Joe swallowed and forced himself not to look away again. He wanted to be strong for Evgeni, especially now, when the man was trying his hardest to fix them. He felt so worthless, standing there, seemingly pushing Evgeni away when all he needed was time to think.
“Bye…” The word dropped off, Evgeni’s parted lips searching for something to add before his teeth clicked shut as a crude conclusion.
He took a step closer, and Joe flinched as not to take a step back, not quite sure of what he was afraid of. Evgeni’s lively eyes dimmed somewhat as he watched Joe’s body tense, and he smiled sadly, uncrossing his arms from over his stomach.
Joe didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to build a wall of unspeakable apprehension between them, much like the one Evgeni once had around himself which Joe had so hard to strip down.
He had wanted to say something meaningful, something to make the smile on Evgeni’s face genuine, but it was as though the words were just out of his grasp. The frustration in him grew as he failed even to come up with the words to reassure himself. He knew what he was should feel, or at the least how he thought he should feel… but truthfully? The emotions raging inside him were so much more complicated than that. He did not know why he felt so uncomfortable and regretful and lonely and sad and relieved, all at the same time. What words were there to describe how he felt? All he knew was that it made his chest hurt, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.
Sticking his right hand out, Joe grimaced at the stiff jointed arm that hung awkwardly in the air. Maybe a handshake was pushing it; he didn’t want to scare Evgeni off now, not when he was finally trying to open up. But words wouldn’t come to him, and a simple handshake seemed like the best thing he could offer.
The man standing before him looked at the offered hand, cocking his head in question, the same emotion that Joe couldn’t quite place his finger on from earlier crossing his face. He retracted his hand a bit, scared that it was too much in such a short time, and perhaps Evgeni’s words were the only real thing that he could comfort Joe with.
He glanced away, eyes downcast, wishing for his hand to be grasped, but waiting for the footsteps to indicate the man’s departure instead. Joe screwed his eyes shut when neither of the two began to play out as they did in his head. Evgeni was only standing there. He wondered why the limbo was so much more horrifying than the actual prospect of rejection.
Evgeni took a step as Joe had predicted, but it seemed louder, closer even. Why the man was suddenly hovering over him, his breath breezing lazily over his neck from where he stood, he did not know. He could feel his muscles seize, and through the small space separating them, Joe could feel Evgeni’s body tense as well.
And then Evgeni moved.
For all the complications and confusion that was plaguing Joe’s thoughts endlessly, devouring his mind for answers that he didn’t have, what was happening at that moment almost seemed too simple.
Evgeni’s hands were clasped firmly on either shoulder, his nose brushing at Joe’s temple as he kissed him on the cheek.
He stepped back after the brief touch. It was soft and gentle, leaving Joe to wonder if it was ever there at all. Although the vivid feeling of the bowed lips pursed against his cheekbone had yet to leave him.
A small, impish smile spread over Evgeni’s flushed face, the impulsiveness of his actions stupefying, but at the same time, too impulsive to believe to be true.
So he asked one of the many questions that had passed through his mind that evening.
“H-how many drinks have you had?” he choked out, gritting his teeth at the way his knees still trembled and body slumped long after those lips were pressed against his cheek. The thought that maybe it meant something more had crossed his mind in the span of the seconds where they were touching again. Though the question still remained, and it was the barrier that Evgeni couldn’t seem to overcome that made Joe ache with unrequited acceptance.
The man backed up another step, bringing him closer to the open yard, a breath of a laugh leaving his mouth. “None,” he whispered with a shy, knowing smile.
Joe’s eyes widened. It was strange how a monosyllabic word could change everything. His thoughts were now racing everywhere. One moment ago it felt as if he was moving in slow motion, now he couldn’t think fast enough. So much was churning in his head, answers and questions, confusion and disbelief. He needed so much more time than Evgeni was allowing him, as the man was one step away from leaving the side yard.
“Oh!” he gasped under his breath, Evgeni’s lips quirking with a silent laugh. Joe stared hard at the man in front of him, his chest tightening as he watched Evgeni steel his eyes and refuse to flinch away. He tried to swallow the garble of words that were bound to fly out of his mouth as the other man giggled nervously, his voice hitching in his chest. “Y-you free tomorrow? Well, ah, ya don’t have plans do you? I mean, I understand, it’s Christmas and all, and well-”
“I dhon’t have plans,” Evgeni interrupted quietly, his smile becoming more sure, his small steps coming to a halt.
“Oh, err…” Joe clicked his teeth together, wiping his sweaty palms on the butt of his pants in embarrassment. “Good? I mean, of course it’s good, I asked you and all, and-”
“Joe,” the man whispered, interrupting in the middle of Joe’s jumbled rant which he had attempted to suppress; his soothing voice an odd juxtaposition when compared to the frantic words that Joe couldn’t say fast enough.
He sighed knowingly, his whole body tensing as he took in a long breath through his nose. The air was a heavy stickiness in his lungs, the cold biting at his insides the longer he kept it in. It was released from his mouth as a steady stream, his shoulders slumping when the last of the oxygen left his body. His head was tilted down, his chin nearly resting against his chest, but his eyes were watching Evgeni wearily, his eyebrows raised in a pathetic way. He sighed. “Yes?”
“I’ll jhust call you, okay?” His bashfully determined smile was infectious.
“Okay,” Joe parroted, his cheeks bunching with the small smile beginning to form on his face. It felt almost out of place after a night of worry, but it was… refreshing in a way. Joe wasn’t one to frown much; it didn’t settle well with him, especially not with Evgeni.
“Ghood,” he glanced toward the back porch with a faraway look. “Bhut, ah… now Iya really should go…”
“Of course.”
“Goodnight,” Evgeni whispered, the blush mottled over his entire face finally apparent when he stepped into the backyard’s bright lights.
“And happy holidays,” Joe chirped with growing smile, taking a step forward to keep their sights intact when the other man began heading up the porch stairs.
With an airy laugh, Evgeni came to a stop at the top of the flight of steps, his arms folded over the railing, all the different lights sparkling in his crinkled, happy eyes. “That’s rhight,” he bit his bottom lip to cover his humoring grin. “I’ll call yhou tomorrow,” it was a soft reminder, but as if Joe could ever possibly forget.
“’Night.”
Evgeni chewed on his lip through his smile and glanced away, his long eyelashes splaying on his flushed cheeks. He looked back after a minute or two of silence. He didn’t say anything more; there wasn’t a need for anything more to be said. Evgeni simply flashed his teeth in a wide, genuine grin, stepped back with a small wave, and entered the house.
Joe could have stood there for another ten minutes, gazing at the spot Evgeni had last stood, before he turned on his heel and treaded lightly over to the side yard gate, leading out to the street. He stopped short, inhaling the brisk air deeply when the cold came back to nip at his skin again. It felt nice this time, and when he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that he was on the ice. Opening his eyes, he stared hard into the grain of the wood, his hand flat on the gate ready to push it open.
Closing his eyes one last time before he stepped back out from his small, secluded spot, Joe reluctantly thought back on what Patrick had said. But then, he could still feel Evgeni’s kiss on his cheek, and he could feel the smile that finally seemed to reach the man’s eyes as they filled his chest with warmth.
Just this once, Joe knew that Patrick was wrong.
-----
To Be Continued
-----
Did you miss me? I hope this suffices for the lack of updating, so I’m sorry about that. What can I say? I was, and still am busy, but I think the last update was… a month ago? Now that’s just a little embarrassing. But! Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Not to mention I have a present for you all...
I think that deserves some revews ;)
Oh, and if you haven't already: The most amazing story you will ever read. Period. I mean, If you're not into kinky sex stories about hockey players, then by all means, don't click the link. But lets be serious. We're all into that here.
Pairing: Joe Thornton/Evgeni Nabokov
Rating: PG-13
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: None for now. You’ve been warned! And You are missed Kelly, have a better life soon, please <3
A/N: You have a present at the end! Be sure to read before you see what it is!
Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII | Chapter XIV | Chapter XV | Chapter XVI Part one | Chapter XVI Part two | Chapter XVII part one | Chapter XVII part two | Chapter XVIII | Chapter XVIII | Chapter XIX | Chapter XX | Chapter XXI | Chapter XXII
Disclaimer: No
-Chapter XXIII-
“Yer smiling,” he pointed out, ignoring the fact that it was completely obvious as to what the other man was doing.
Nevertheless, Evgeni shrugged, his head bobbing in agreement, his lips still tugging upwards.
“It’s nice ta see you happy.”
“… It’s nhice to be happy,” Evgeni responded quietly, before Todd ushered the team to their respected positions on the ice.
The Sharks beat the Canucks that night, five to zero.
-----
“You’re coming over tonight, right?” Patrick’s voice rumbled over the phone.
Pausing, Joe furrowed his brow and looked around, as if his answer was a physical thing. Nothing appeared to him despite his wandering eyes, as was to be expected, and he brought the phone back to his ear.
“Er… what?” he replied with a befuddled grunt.
The other man laughed, and Joe skirted his gaze about his apartment again, anything to occupy his mind in place of his confusion. But Patrick’s laugh eventually subsided, and Joe’s question was answered.
“Christmas Eve? The team party? Like we do every year?” The string of questions made Joe’s lips form an O in his realization.
“Shit! It’s Christmas tomorrow, isn’t it?” he swore quietly, his hand slapping over his face in disbelief.
Patrick coughed away from the speaker before his voice piped back up. “Well that’s normally what Christmas Eve is, so, yeah,” he said lightly, his trademark smile obvious even over the phone. Both were silent for a few seconds after that; Patrick was probably waiting for a response, but Joe was simply too tongue-tied from his forgetfulness to say anything. Another gruff cough made Joe shake his head to snap back to attention as Patrick began to speak.
“So you’re gonna be there, yeah?” the disappointment evident in his voice.
Straightening in his seat, a smile tugged at the sides of Joe’s lips. “’Course I’m gonna be there! I still believe in traditions, even if I ferget ’em sometimes,” he laughed, scratching his neck with his free hand and falling back onto the cushions of his couch.
The sigh was barely audible, but the heavy breath from Patrick expressed his relief more effectively than any words could have.
“Good! That’s- oh. Wait… I’ll be back in a second,” he muttered, leaving Joe on the phone, the white noise of the reception buzzing in his ear.
Muffled words between Patrick and another, Joe assumed that is was the soft spoken Christina, could be made out just barely, but their talk about the baby shower did not interest Joe in the least.
The couch still smelled like Evgeni, Joe thought lethargically as the ramblings on the phone became mere droning in his ear. The couch smelled of raspberries too, he added with a reminiscent grin, wondering how pungent the small fruit actually was with the way it still clung to the thinning fibers.
Patrick’s mellow voice cut through Joe’s wandering thoughts before he could come to the other memories that included them and the couch, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and thankful at the same time.
“Gotta go, but be here, seven o’clock.”
Joe nodded and was about to respond with a cheery ‘see you then,’ but the line went dead as the other man already hung up the phone.
“Seven o’clock,” Joe mumbled, throwing the device over his shoulder as he turned on his side and buried his face into the back cushions, inhaling deeply before drifting off to sleep.
-----
Christmas Eve traffic was more congested than Joe remembered, and he would have fully blamed his tardiness for that reason if he didn’t actually oversleep with his nap. Danny had answered the door when he finally arrived, and the crowd of people exploded into mocking cheers when he walked into the foyer of Patrick’s home sheepishly. He was heckled without mercy by his team until someone handed him a beer, and from then on everyone seemed to be in good spirits, ignoring the fact that he showed up an hour late.
The intellectual conversations he had with Todd and Douglas were draining, the constant joking with Brad and Brian were entertaining, and watching Devin drink himself stupid was, well, normal. The rest of the team and many of their wives or girlfriends found it funny though, and if he wasn’t paying only half attention he probably would have found it funny as well.
He knew that Evgeni was there, Patrick told him so when he asked, but he had still to see the man himself, even though thirty minutes had already passed since his arrival. A few more minutes and a half a beer later, Joe was scanning the room while trying to appear interested in whatever Ryane was talking about.
Finally he found the man with his back facing him, standing off to the side of the television, its flickering lights dancing over the crisp lines of his shirt. Joe watched as the lighting expanded and receded in an unpredictable pattern, outlining his shoulders nicely as it moved with him. Evgeni’s hands added more to the conversation he was having with Alexei; the two of them presumably speaking in fast paced Russian. Joe smiled a little at the thought of Evgeni when he flushed with excitement, his native language slipping into his English ramblings, until he was speaking completely in pidgin and not making any sense whatsoever.
From across the room, the man’s spine went rigid, as if he could hear Joe’s wild thoughts. When Alexei turned to add Marcel to their conversation, Evgeni twisted around on the spot, his hack curving in an almost elegant way Joe marveled, until they were facing each other.
Evgeni held a look of bewildered surprise for a second, until it melted away, leaving a timid smile and eyes shining impossibly bright with the television’s flashing screen. He held a mug in his hands, his long thumbs stroking the ceramic cup with drawn out movements, Joe noticed with detached interest. Oh, how he wanted to know what more those fingers could do.
He was about to puff out his chest with bravado, turn his body around fully, and take his first step toward the person who had captured his interest, but Milan decided that moment was best to take Joe by the arm and drag him out to the back porch to catch up.
-----
He couldn’t even remember the gist of what he and the Czech were talking about. The whole while he was just itching to end the friendly chat so that he would be able to go back inside and confront Evgeni for the first time since the night before. He didn’t mean to sound rude, really he didn’t, but whatever Milan had to talk about just hadn’t interested him. Not contributing to a conversation wasn’t his fault if his thoughts refused to comply with him anyway.
Now he was propped against the railing, the wood pressing into the small of his spine, and becoming uncomfortably coarse at his elbows, which he was using as support as he was leaning back. From his vantage point, he could see the entirety of the rambunctious room through the wall of glass sliding doors. In the open door to Joe’s right, he couldn’t help but laugh at the mistletoe taped above everyone’s heads as they walked in and out of the house.
He glanced down from the hanging plant and nearly jumped in surprise when he found Evgeni sitting on the couch, looking at him with a laugh sparking in his eyes. He remained transfixed like that for a while, glad that everyone outside was too drunk to notice his blatant staring. To help prove his point, Devin was standing a few feet away from him, laughing hysterically with an equally drunk, crutch-free Torrey and not commenting about it.
The urge to wave hit Joe, and despite the cheesiness of it all, he knew that once the idea popped into his head, he was bound to do it. After taking a short glance around him, he was pleased to find that his teammates were simply too intoxicated by this point to really care. So looking back, he plastered on the dorkiest smile he knew he could make, and waved his left hand with a curt jerk of his wrist.
Evgeni snorted and looked away, his face straining with the attempt not to laugh. He glanced back up when the captain walked past him, offering the goaltender a friendly nod. Devin was pulled from his heated argument with his roommate about their present swapping when he spotted Patrick just as he was about to step outside.
“E’eryone shuddup!”
Patrick jerked at the barked words, watching the sophomore wearily as he stopped in his tracks. Torrey giggled and Devin smirked before stumbling unsteadily forward, halting when he was a step away from the captain, although perhaps a little closer than he would have been normally if his depth perception hadn’t gone to shit along with his sobriety.
Between their bodies, Joe caught Evgeni’s eyes again, and the smile that had begun to fade from his face grew with renewed vigor. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the holiday season; that always got him in a cheery mood.
In the back of his mind, he could still hear Devin spewing something about the team, and the captain’s accomplishments, and how thankful he was, and that the party was going great, and a majority of other topics. Not with that coherency of course, but the general message was there.
As he watched Evgeni studying him, Joe noticed the gap between Patrick and Devin’s bodies began to shrink, until the captain stepped back and the younger man stepped forward, obscuring Joe’s view completely.
With little resistance, he found his feet planting firmly on the ground on their own accord, and he was taking brisk steps forward.
“Seto?” the captain’s stern, no nonsense voice echoed in the back of Joe’s head.
He was right in front of the two when he picked up the word ‘mistletoe’ come out of Devin’s mouth, and he shook himself to attention. Devin contorted his muscles into an exaggerated kissy face and leaned in close to Patrick, whose face bore an expression of alarmed incredulity.
Joe was about to step by the two with a chuckle when he stopped short, a heavy numbness spreading throughout his entire body instead when he heard Patrick’s words.
“Stop it Devin… that’s disgusting.”
The bitter repulse held in the man’s voice made the air suddenly very painful to swallow. Wide-eyed, Joe barely registered the fact that Devin bumped into his side after the captain pushed the youth away from him. Patrick left, and Devin sighed before he stumbled back onto the porch, the usual swagger absent in his steps.
Eyes focusing after the first, powerful shock, Joe saw Evgeni gaping at the spot where Patrick had been moments ago, his brow furrowing with a mixture of troubling emotions.
He looked back to Joe, his sad eyes begging for something, anything, but Joe could only cringe as he walked past the man and into another room.
-----
‘Was it disgusting?’
Joe spent the rest of his evening pretending to join in with the conversations with his teammates, but only one thing remained fixated in his mind.
‘I didn’t think it was disgusting…’
Even Patrick was talking to him, as if nothing was wrong. Who knew? Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with the captain. Maybe it was all Joe. That thought terrified him the most.
‘But what if…’
He hadn’t seen Evgeni for the rest of the evening, not that he wanted to have a confrontation at that moment or anything, but he felt so lost. Even while pushing Evgeni out of his head, he still hoped that the man was taking it all right.
‘What if…’
It was 11:32 when Joe decided it best for him to go home. He wasn’t up for false smiles and forced laughter much longer. On his way out, a frazzled and very pregnant Christina asked him kindly to throw away the recycling. He contemplated her begging eyes and took the bag, his lips pulled back in a grin so wide that he was surprised that it didn’t crack.
‘What if it was wrong?’
-----
He bounded down the back porch steps with false enthusiasm, not quite sure who he was fooling. Devin had been heading inside when Joe first exited the house. They both had glanced up at the mistletoe hanging above their heads, and he felt a twinge of sympathy when, while even several beers drunk, Devin sighed heavily and averted his gaze.
He didn’t need any team drama. Hell, he didn’t even know that teams could have drama. Wasn’t that supposed to end after high-school?
Joe just wanted to go home.
He was staring listlessly at the ground by the time he finally entered the side yard, the lights and the sounds of the party subdued to slivers of the actual things. At last he looked up when his extensive knowledge of the Marleau’s household ended at the gated alcove. He froze. Evgeni was on the ground staring wordlessly back at him, his shoulders pressing into the wooden fence, his shoes scuffed with dirt as they dug into the ground. A look of undignified panic crossed his face briefly before it mellowed into strained look of indifference. Joe was sure he displayed much of the same emotions.
He shifted the full plastic bag to his right hand, its contents rustling quietly, the only sound existent in the space between them. He glanced down to the man crouched on the grassy floor before darting his eyes away, focusing intently on the trashcan patiently awaiting his burden. Evgeni’s gaze was trained on him from the moment he had stepped into the clearing, and Joe just knew that the eyes were still locked on him, though he refused to acknowledge the stare.
It was as if a snake was festering in his belly. Coiling and twisting, its scaly body scraped against his insides, its tongue flickering out to tickle the back of his throat. Joe felt as if he was going to throw up.
Was it out of confusion? Fear? Whatever the reason, Joe was ashamed that he couldn’t even bring himself to look in the direction the man, let alone actually look him in the eye.
He bit the inside of his cheek and took his first hesitant step toward the brown trashcan. The snake twisted around his gut when the wet ground squelched under his feet, each stride bringing him closer to his destination, closer to Evgeni.
The rhythmic bass rumbled from inside the house, traces of laughter filtering through to the side yard from the open back door. One more step and Joe could pick up faint words of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ and the distinct masculine voice of Douglas as he sang along with the festive lyrics.
Even his breathing had become suffocatingly loud by this point. The air circulating in his lungs rattled like the dried skin of the snake’s tail, and he felt just as on-edge as he would have been if the serpent was posed to strike before him.
With his heartbeat fluttering in his ears, Joe strode past the huddled man without so much as a passing glance. A shaky, sorrowful sigh cut through the static of their silence; the hollow sound followed by a raspy echo broke Joe’s heart. He wasn’t sure if it came from Evgeni or himself. The strangle around his tensed body loosened, and a dying hiss escaped his mouth when the shadow of the snake left him.
After what seemed like an eternity, Joe faced the trashcan, his shoulders slumping from much more than just the load of garbage he was hefting. He opened the lid with a careless swipe of his arm, apathetic to the banging it made when the hard plastic hit the side of the house. Empty beer bottles clanked together and plastic plates grated against one another in an earsplitting whine as Joe swung the bag into the bin.
Fine hairs prickled at the nape of his neck, and despite the clichéd feel of it all, Joe knew that Evgeni was watching him. If he were to turn around, what would be portrayed in those expressive eyes?
Would Evgeni take back all the things he had said before that night? That he liked it? After all, he had the excessive amounts of alcohol to blame his actions on, while Joe had… well, nothing.
Joe had absolutely nothing from where to pull his excuses from. Not for the enjoyment, not for the confusing emotions; everything had been placed before him in complete clarity, and he had taken it.
When he looked back, he saw that his path was crumbling, and he could only move onward. A thick darkness seemed to hang around him now, the path in front of him just as hazy as the thought process that had led him up to that point.
Hindsight was a wonderful thing.
Eyes unfocused, Joe stood there waiting. His nerves still bounced around in his stomach, the fluttery, anxious feeling making his fingers twitch. The sickness that had washed over him was gone, but Joe didn’t know if he had the willpower to move from his spot. He felt so safe there, his feet planted firmly in the ground, facing away from Evgeni with no possible way for him to see the unknown feeling swirling in those eyes.
If they held some disgust, or distaste, or any other ‘dis-’ word, Joe did not know what he would do. So rooted to the spot, he figured that it was best not to find out at all.
Silence crept into the secluded area, even the music from inside seemed to have died in the presence of such thick tension. Evgeni hadn’t moved from his crouch on the fence opposite Joe, even though he had hoped the man would. But then again, had he really expected as much?
What Patrick had said had left him dumbfounded. He had refused to acknowledge the unexpected situations that occurred out recently as “weird,” and definitely not “disgusting.” He had ignored the fact that he and another man had a dysfunctional relationship budding between them, but he didn’t think there was anything to actually be ashamed of.
The rush of excitement when Evgeni touched his skin seemed more logical to him than the labels of their society ever could, and so he only focused on what felt best. How could that ever be wrong?
Although now, and he hated to even think it… but what if Patrick was right? The uncertainty filled his head and made him almost ill. He found his anger prickling at the captain’s blatant intolerability, and it sickened him to know that the man he thought so highly of could ever speak that way.
But he also couldn’t help worrying if Evgeni felt the same.
Suddenly, the cold December air was sinking into every pore, the ice growing in him like frostbite. It was a dread so powerful that he shuddered at the feeling. He had to leave if the silence continued to grow, in fear that it might engulf him whole.
Clenching his numb fingers into a determined fist, Joe lifted the hand on the lid to cover the trash; he gripped the plastic harder when another shake ripped down his spine. Pausing for a moment’s breath, Joe just barely caught the irregular intake of air and the rustling of clothing on wood. It was the first signs of life since Joe had entered the space.
He was about to shake off the noise as his mind playing tricks on him, but the cough following was undeniable. So Joe waited.
Finally, Evgeni’s voice, now so soft and quiet, managed to trickle through the slowly mounting layers of doubt.
“I don’t think it’s disgusting.”
Joe was caught off guard by the absolute resolve in Evgeni’s tone.
He spun around on the spot, his hand falling away from the lid of the trashcan, letting the plastic snap shut with a bang. Gaping openly, Joe couldn’t help but stare as Evgeni’s hardened grey eyes bore through him. The man’s chin jutted up, his arms wrapped around his legs, which were curled close to his chest. He looked down his straight nose with unwavering certainty.
Joe couldn’t comprehend why it felt as though he was the one sitting alone on the dirty ground, when it was Evgeni who was doing so just across the path. But here he was, shrinking in the man’s stare as if he was the one being looked down upon. The strong command Evgeni held him in was terrifying and electrifying at the same time.
The short sentence hit him like a punch to the chest; he was left winded and confused, Evgeni’s words repeating themselves in his head until they became a jumbled mess, and he was not sure if he heard them correctly.
He coughed once when the words on his tongue refused to form. Looking toward the opening to the backyard, Joe crossed his arms and squeezed his biceps to reassure himself. He found himself turning back, the indescribable strength in Evgeni’s eyes the only push he found that he needed in order to continue.
“W-what did you say?” Even when their eyes locked once more, Joe felt vulnerable in his position, and he blushed at his stutter.
If Evgeni noticed, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, he placed his palms on the fence behind him, using it as leverage as he hefted himself up to his feet silently, his gaze never once leaving Joe’s. A burning ferocity that had been absent from Evgeni’s eyes, apart from the moments on the ice, was now smoldering in his grey pools, almost unnerving in the way they made Joe shiver with anticipation.
With the changes to Evgeni’s demeanor, he still held back, his shoulders pressing into the fence behind him, his hands splayed at his side where he left them.
“It’s nhot,” he whispered, his voice cleaving clear through the quiet.
Joe nodded with understanding, though found himself looking away and holding his arms tighter around his body. Even with Evgeni’s reassurances, he was hesitant to put himself out in the open once again, afraid of being hurt in the way that Patrick had already hurt him.
“Oh…” he whispered. “So… w-were you out here long?” the question was choppy with his desperation to change the subject, as bad of a subject change as it was.
The other man stepped forward, the wooden fence creaking when he removed his weight from the boards. A nervous chuckle left his lips when he stopped a few paces away from Joe’s spot. “Yeah… Iya came out here when yhou left, actually.”
“Oh.” That was three hours ago.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Evgeni’s shoes move as the man shifted in his spot. After humming shortly to acknowledge that he heard the confession, the two men were drowned in overwhelming silence once again.
Joe didn’t know what to say. Of course he was thankful, if not dumbstruck, for the way Evgeni seemed to take control of the situation when it was far too much for his comprehension; he admired the level-head that the other seemed to maintain. But the captain’s words still managed to nag at the back of his mind, despite the disagreement he knew that he held toward them.
What was it that was holding him back? Up to that point, he had been the one to take charge without thinking of the consequences. He liked it so much better when he thought he had some understanding of what was going on. It was hard to believe that set feeling was merely a day ago, that very morning even. He just could not bring himself to match Evgeni’s resolution.
He wanted to. He really did.
“Nabs! Hey, you out here? Don’t tell me ya left already!” Patrick’s voice seemed to boom from the back porch.
Both faltered when the man whom their thoughts were lingering upon wormed his way back into their worried minds. Evgeni shook off the stupor before Joe could even snap his mouth shut.
“I’m out here P-Patty,” the name hesitant on his lips as he brought his hands up to hold his elbows.
“Get up here! I’ve barely seen you all night!” The captain was unjustly exuberant, for all the second guessing and uncertainty that he had caused.
“Oh, um. A-all right,” he mumbled half for the other to hear and half for himself before turning back to Joe, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. Joe offered a shrug in return, unsure of what to say, unsure if anything more could be said.
“Iya should go,” Evgeni whispered forlornly, his words laced with regret and something that Joe could not place.
Nodding dumbly for the last time, Joe swallowed and forced himself not to look away again. He wanted to be strong for Evgeni, especially now, when the man was trying his hardest to fix them. He felt so worthless, standing there, seemingly pushing Evgeni away when all he needed was time to think.
“Bye…” The word dropped off, Evgeni’s parted lips searching for something to add before his teeth clicked shut as a crude conclusion.
He took a step closer, and Joe flinched as not to take a step back, not quite sure of what he was afraid of. Evgeni’s lively eyes dimmed somewhat as he watched Joe’s body tense, and he smiled sadly, uncrossing his arms from over his stomach.
Joe didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to build a wall of unspeakable apprehension between them, much like the one Evgeni once had around himself which Joe had so hard to strip down.
He had wanted to say something meaningful, something to make the smile on Evgeni’s face genuine, but it was as though the words were just out of his grasp. The frustration in him grew as he failed even to come up with the words to reassure himself. He knew what he was should feel, or at the least how he thought he should feel… but truthfully? The emotions raging inside him were so much more complicated than that. He did not know why he felt so uncomfortable and regretful and lonely and sad and relieved, all at the same time. What words were there to describe how he felt? All he knew was that it made his chest hurt, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.
Sticking his right hand out, Joe grimaced at the stiff jointed arm that hung awkwardly in the air. Maybe a handshake was pushing it; he didn’t want to scare Evgeni off now, not when he was finally trying to open up. But words wouldn’t come to him, and a simple handshake seemed like the best thing he could offer.
The man standing before him looked at the offered hand, cocking his head in question, the same emotion that Joe couldn’t quite place his finger on from earlier crossing his face. He retracted his hand a bit, scared that it was too much in such a short time, and perhaps Evgeni’s words were the only real thing that he could comfort Joe with.
He glanced away, eyes downcast, wishing for his hand to be grasped, but waiting for the footsteps to indicate the man’s departure instead. Joe screwed his eyes shut when neither of the two began to play out as they did in his head. Evgeni was only standing there. He wondered why the limbo was so much more horrifying than the actual prospect of rejection.
Evgeni took a step as Joe had predicted, but it seemed louder, closer even. Why the man was suddenly hovering over him, his breath breezing lazily over his neck from where he stood, he did not know. He could feel his muscles seize, and through the small space separating them, Joe could feel Evgeni’s body tense as well.
And then Evgeni moved.
For all the complications and confusion that was plaguing Joe’s thoughts endlessly, devouring his mind for answers that he didn’t have, what was happening at that moment almost seemed too simple.
Evgeni’s hands were clasped firmly on either shoulder, his nose brushing at Joe’s temple as he kissed him on the cheek.
He stepped back after the brief touch. It was soft and gentle, leaving Joe to wonder if it was ever there at all. Although the vivid feeling of the bowed lips pursed against his cheekbone had yet to leave him.
A small, impish smile spread over Evgeni’s flushed face, the impulsiveness of his actions stupefying, but at the same time, too impulsive to believe to be true.
So he asked one of the many questions that had passed through his mind that evening.
“H-how many drinks have you had?” he choked out, gritting his teeth at the way his knees still trembled and body slumped long after those lips were pressed against his cheek. The thought that maybe it meant something more had crossed his mind in the span of the seconds where they were touching again. Though the question still remained, and it was the barrier that Evgeni couldn’t seem to overcome that made Joe ache with unrequited acceptance.
The man backed up another step, bringing him closer to the open yard, a breath of a laugh leaving his mouth. “None,” he whispered with a shy, knowing smile.
Joe’s eyes widened. It was strange how a monosyllabic word could change everything. His thoughts were now racing everywhere. One moment ago it felt as if he was moving in slow motion, now he couldn’t think fast enough. So much was churning in his head, answers and questions, confusion and disbelief. He needed so much more time than Evgeni was allowing him, as the man was one step away from leaving the side yard.
“Oh!” he gasped under his breath, Evgeni’s lips quirking with a silent laugh. Joe stared hard at the man in front of him, his chest tightening as he watched Evgeni steel his eyes and refuse to flinch away. He tried to swallow the garble of words that were bound to fly out of his mouth as the other man giggled nervously, his voice hitching in his chest. “Y-you free tomorrow? Well, ah, ya don’t have plans do you? I mean, I understand, it’s Christmas and all, and well-”
“I dhon’t have plans,” Evgeni interrupted quietly, his smile becoming more sure, his small steps coming to a halt.
“Oh, err…” Joe clicked his teeth together, wiping his sweaty palms on the butt of his pants in embarrassment. “Good? I mean, of course it’s good, I asked you and all, and-”
“Joe,” the man whispered, interrupting in the middle of Joe’s jumbled rant which he had attempted to suppress; his soothing voice an odd juxtaposition when compared to the frantic words that Joe couldn’t say fast enough.
He sighed knowingly, his whole body tensing as he took in a long breath through his nose. The air was a heavy stickiness in his lungs, the cold biting at his insides the longer he kept it in. It was released from his mouth as a steady stream, his shoulders slumping when the last of the oxygen left his body. His head was tilted down, his chin nearly resting against his chest, but his eyes were watching Evgeni wearily, his eyebrows raised in a pathetic way. He sighed. “Yes?”
“I’ll jhust call you, okay?” His bashfully determined smile was infectious.
“Okay,” Joe parroted, his cheeks bunching with the small smile beginning to form on his face. It felt almost out of place after a night of worry, but it was… refreshing in a way. Joe wasn’t one to frown much; it didn’t settle well with him, especially not with Evgeni.
“Ghood,” he glanced toward the back porch with a faraway look. “Bhut, ah… now Iya really should go…”
“Of course.”
“Goodnight,” Evgeni whispered, the blush mottled over his entire face finally apparent when he stepped into the backyard’s bright lights.
“And happy holidays,” Joe chirped with growing smile, taking a step forward to keep their sights intact when the other man began heading up the porch stairs.
With an airy laugh, Evgeni came to a stop at the top of the flight of steps, his arms folded over the railing, all the different lights sparkling in his crinkled, happy eyes. “That’s rhight,” he bit his bottom lip to cover his humoring grin. “I’ll call yhou tomorrow,” it was a soft reminder, but as if Joe could ever possibly forget.
“’Night.”
Evgeni chewed on his lip through his smile and glanced away, his long eyelashes splaying on his flushed cheeks. He looked back after a minute or two of silence. He didn’t say anything more; there wasn’t a need for anything more to be said. Evgeni simply flashed his teeth in a wide, genuine grin, stepped back with a small wave, and entered the house.
Joe could have stood there for another ten minutes, gazing at the spot Evgeni had last stood, before he turned on his heel and treaded lightly over to the side yard gate, leading out to the street. He stopped short, inhaling the brisk air deeply when the cold came back to nip at his skin again. It felt nice this time, and when he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that he was on the ice. Opening his eyes, he stared hard into the grain of the wood, his hand flat on the gate ready to push it open.
Closing his eyes one last time before he stepped back out from his small, secluded spot, Joe reluctantly thought back on what Patrick had said. But then, he could still feel Evgeni’s kiss on his cheek, and he could feel the smile that finally seemed to reach the man’s eyes as they filled his chest with warmth.
Just this once, Joe knew that Patrick was wrong.
-----
To Be Continued
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Did you miss me? I hope this suffices for the lack of updating, so I’m sorry about that. What can I say? I was, and still am busy, but I think the last update was… a month ago? Now that’s just a little embarrassing. But! Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Not to mention I have a present for you all...
I think that deserves some revews ;)
Oh, and if you haven't already: The most amazing story you will ever read. Period. I mean, If you're not into kinky sex stories about hockey players, then by all means, don't click the link. But lets be serious. We're all into that here.