fic: the space in between
title: the space in between
pairing: todd bertuzzi/markus naslund
rating: pg
disclaimer: fiction
written for picfor1000 with this pic as my inspiration
“Do you miss it?”
Markus turns his head to the left and smiles. There’s a bit of ketchup and a spot of mustard on the upper corner of Todd’s lips from the lunch of hamburgers and fries they had decided on. He brings his thumb to wipe away at the mess, the warm touch of familiar skin resonating in the tip of his finger. Reluctantly, he pulls away and turns to face the television once again, the sight of the ice, where he belongs, pulls at his heart.
“Playing for my country?”
“Yeah” And playing in Vancouver.
“Of course,” Markus replies before taking a bite of his food. He knows what Todd is leaving unsaid and chooses to let it remain so. They haven’t discussed it before, not really, not how they like should and want to. But Markus isn’t one to bring things up, not Vancouver. “You must too.”
“Yeah.”
The almost whispered word grasps Markus’ attention. He puts his near empty plate onto on the coffee table before sliding back against the couch and tucking his leg underneath him as he faces Todd. Leaning his upper body into the cushion, Markus just sits and stares until Todd finally gives in and turns to him. His dark eyes are soft, his face open and vulnerable. Markus smiles before leaning in and kissing the curve of his lips.
{*}
It’s late, probably past two in the morning but Markus can’t sleep. Instead, he slides out carefully from underneath Todd’s heavier frame and pads over to the window. The chill of the constant snowfall that is Sudbury cools his body considerably but Markus doesn’t move. Instead he wraps his arms around himself and watches the snowflakes slowly descend to the earth.
His mind is blank, yet not at the same time. He stands and watches for a little longer, wondering how his life has got to this point.
{*}
So far they have being doing other things other than watching just the Olympics and hockey but when Wednesday rolls around, they plan to do nothing but plant themselves in front of the television. They wake up sometime around ten in the morning and spend about an hour in bed, touching and feeling, everything they haven’t been able to in the last little while. They barely make it down the stairs before the start of USA vs. Switzerland. Skipping breakfast, they order pizza for lunch as they watch the game with half interest. They both know the next one is important, the one they want to watch.
When time comes for Canada vs. Russia, Todd is on the edge of the couch the entire time despite his home side having a hefty lead. Besides swear words and trash talk being hurled at the television, there isn’t much of a conversation. They don’t need one; hockey, Olympic, NHL, whatever it maybe, is much more important.
After the 7-3 victory, Todd is smug with a smirk on his lips as he now lazes back and watches Markus fret. He’s not as nice as the other man, so Todd laughs openly when Markus begins yelling in Swedish. Though he’d never say it out loud, he finds it endearing, to see that passion he fell in love with all those years ago still burn as bright.
After Sweden loses, Todd pulls out the hard liquor as per Markus’ request. The game had been frustrating for him but the thing that bothers him the most is that he should have been on the ice with the team. Not playing for his country, as well as an NHL team (one in particular), is harder than Markus has ever let on. So they break out the whisky (Crown Royal, Todd’s favourite and now Markus’ too) and begin to lose themselves in the familiarity of their conversation.
--
“Bert?”
“Hmm?”
Markus looks up from under heavy liquor induced eyelids and smiles (or at least he thinks he does). Todd laughs.
“Do you miss... it?”
He closes his eyes, his body completely relaxed against the cushion of the couch, the hand in his hair only adding to it. He doesn’t see the pain that flashes across Todd’s face or feel the grip in his hair tense suddenly. Seconds later fingers massage his scalp and he all but hums.
Markus falls asleep, not realising Todd hasn’t answered.
{*}
They watch more of the Olympics on some days and on others they don’t. Chilly wet flakes continue to fall from the sky but it doesn’t bother them to stay inside the entire time. They talk, mostly of the NHL and Elitserien and of their families. The possibility of meeting up in the summer comes up but nothing is confirmed. But there is no pressure, no need for it. They lives have never been scripted and it wouldn’t start now.
--
It is bright and sunny the day they have to part and Todd cannot help but smile at the fact. He’s the first to wake up but settles next to Markus’ still sleeping form contentedly.
Out of everything, this is what he missed the most. Vancouver, the seasons he had there, the memories; nothing compares to waking with Markus, spending time with him, being with him. Nothing.
Todd allows himself a little bit longer to run his fingers through Markus’ soft blond hair, to his shoulders and down his arms, relaxed muscles under his touch. Leaning in, Todd places a careful to his cheek. A smile breaks out across his face when Markus’ eyelashes flutter, eyes still full and heavy of sleep.
“Hi.”
“Morning,” Markus whispers back, his voice a little rough. He scoots over, just enough to burrow himself into Todd’s warm body.
They know they eventually have to get up to clean up and make flights but they remain as they are with Markus tucked carefully against Todd. Their hands draw lazy patterns on each other’s skin as they revel in silence until they can no longer avoid leaving each other.
pairing: todd bertuzzi/markus naslund
rating: pg
disclaimer: fiction
written for picfor1000 with this pic as my inspiration
“Do you miss it?”
Markus turns his head to the left and smiles. There’s a bit of ketchup and a spot of mustard on the upper corner of Todd’s lips from the lunch of hamburgers and fries they had decided on. He brings his thumb to wipe away at the mess, the warm touch of familiar skin resonating in the tip of his finger. Reluctantly, he pulls away and turns to face the television once again, the sight of the ice, where he belongs, pulls at his heart.
“Playing for my country?”
“Yeah” And playing in Vancouver.
“Of course,” Markus replies before taking a bite of his food. He knows what Todd is leaving unsaid and chooses to let it remain so. They haven’t discussed it before, not really, not how they like should and want to. But Markus isn’t one to bring things up, not Vancouver. “You must too.”
“Yeah.”
The almost whispered word grasps Markus’ attention. He puts his near empty plate onto on the coffee table before sliding back against the couch and tucking his leg underneath him as he faces Todd. Leaning his upper body into the cushion, Markus just sits and stares until Todd finally gives in and turns to him. His dark eyes are soft, his face open and vulnerable. Markus smiles before leaning in and kissing the curve of his lips.
{*}
It’s late, probably past two in the morning but Markus can’t sleep. Instead, he slides out carefully from underneath Todd’s heavier frame and pads over to the window. The chill of the constant snowfall that is Sudbury cools his body considerably but Markus doesn’t move. Instead he wraps his arms around himself and watches the snowflakes slowly descend to the earth.
His mind is blank, yet not at the same time. He stands and watches for a little longer, wondering how his life has got to this point.
{*}
So far they have being doing other things other than watching just the Olympics and hockey but when Wednesday rolls around, they plan to do nothing but plant themselves in front of the television. They wake up sometime around ten in the morning and spend about an hour in bed, touching and feeling, everything they haven’t been able to in the last little while. They barely make it down the stairs before the start of USA vs. Switzerland. Skipping breakfast, they order pizza for lunch as they watch the game with half interest. They both know the next one is important, the one they want to watch.
When time comes for Canada vs. Russia, Todd is on the edge of the couch the entire time despite his home side having a hefty lead. Besides swear words and trash talk being hurled at the television, there isn’t much of a conversation. They don’t need one; hockey, Olympic, NHL, whatever it maybe, is much more important.
After the 7-3 victory, Todd is smug with a smirk on his lips as he now lazes back and watches Markus fret. He’s not as nice as the other man, so Todd laughs openly when Markus begins yelling in Swedish. Though he’d never say it out loud, he finds it endearing, to see that passion he fell in love with all those years ago still burn as bright.
After Sweden loses, Todd pulls out the hard liquor as per Markus’ request. The game had been frustrating for him but the thing that bothers him the most is that he should have been on the ice with the team. Not playing for his country, as well as an NHL team (one in particular), is harder than Markus has ever let on. So they break out the whisky (Crown Royal, Todd’s favourite and now Markus’ too) and begin to lose themselves in the familiarity of their conversation.
--
“Bert?”
“Hmm?”
Markus looks up from under heavy liquor induced eyelids and smiles (or at least he thinks he does). Todd laughs.
“Do you miss... it?”
He closes his eyes, his body completely relaxed against the cushion of the couch, the hand in his hair only adding to it. He doesn’t see the pain that flashes across Todd’s face or feel the grip in his hair tense suddenly. Seconds later fingers massage his scalp and he all but hums.
Markus falls asleep, not realising Todd hasn’t answered.
{*}
They watch more of the Olympics on some days and on others they don’t. Chilly wet flakes continue to fall from the sky but it doesn’t bother them to stay inside the entire time. They talk, mostly of the NHL and Elitserien and of their families. The possibility of meeting up in the summer comes up but nothing is confirmed. But there is no pressure, no need for it. They lives have never been scripted and it wouldn’t start now.
--
It is bright and sunny the day they have to part and Todd cannot help but smile at the fact. He’s the first to wake up but settles next to Markus’ still sleeping form contentedly.
Out of everything, this is what he missed the most. Vancouver, the seasons he had there, the memories; nothing compares to waking with Markus, spending time with him, being with him. Nothing.
Todd allows himself a little bit longer to run his fingers through Markus’ soft blond hair, to his shoulders and down his arms, relaxed muscles under his touch. Leaning in, Todd places a careful to his cheek. A smile breaks out across his face when Markus’ eyelashes flutter, eyes still full and heavy of sleep.
“Hi.”
“Morning,” Markus whispers back, his voice a little rough. He scoots over, just enough to burrow himself into Todd’s warm body.
They know they eventually have to get up to clean up and make flights but they remain as they are with Markus tucked carefully against Todd. Their hands draw lazy patterns on each other’s skin as they revel in silence until they can no longer avoid leaving each other.