By Faith Alone. Chapter Three.
Written by: lady_death.
Title: By Faith Alone. Chapter Three.
Fandom: NHL: Phoenix Coyotes.
Characters: Ed Jovanovski.
Word Count: 668.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Jovo approaches his breaking point.
Author's Notes: This is set late November 2007.
It was a joke. I remember starring at him, unable to believe what I was hearing, not fuckin’ comprehending that this guy was for real not just having me on. I thought I’d heard it all before. I get it, when a guy doesn’t want to sleep around because he’s with someone. I get it, when a guy doesn’t want a casual fuck because he’s looking for love or something more. Even if I think it’s kind of ridiculous to miss out while you’re looking. No reason not to go for the here and now.
I’d never heard ‘no’ because they don’t like it. Maybe back in Windsor, at some point when I was kid, I got turned down ‘cause of that, but I don’t remember it. I can’t imagine missing out on this feeling, of being challenged, of being matched, of having a body that’s similar to yours but different all at the same time. Women are pretty wonderful in their own right. They’re soft sighs, curves, moldable, delicate. Even when they’re Lotta. Even Swedish hellcats, there’s a lady hiding underneath that wants to be coaxed out and cherished. But with men, it’s just different.
Men don’t need another language to get what’s shifting around in your head. It all just happens without words. You have one look and it’ll say everything. You get each other. You have certain needs that are understood. With women, it’s this give and take, it’s compromising. You’ve got to find a balance. With men it’s harmony. Both good, but who doesn’t want that kind of fit you get with the second? Who could say no to that? Hockey players get that. No matter how much I teach Kirstin about hockey, or how much I love her, she’s never gonna be my brother in arms.
Even the religion thing makes more sense. Okay, he’s got this belief system in place which makes him say no when he wants to say yes. But, this ain’t your backyard at home. This is the game. The rules don’t apply. Hockey forms bonds that can’t be broken. Outsiders won’t get it, but we aren’t goin’ outside. We’re here where life happens on ice. Life is so fuckin’ precious. When you’re given the chance to make a beautiful moment with someone else, why not fuckin’ take it? Why say no to love when you can’t plan for what’s going to happen? I know it better than anyone. There are things that can’t be controlled. Things you want to make right which you can’t. Things you’d like to change. But life doesn’t fuckin’ work like that.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I only wanted to fuck him. I’d have gotten over that last season. More fish in the sea or something like that. That’s not the problem. The issue here is, I don’t want to just fuck him, I want to hold him. I want to put that smile which caused this whole mess on his face all the time. Yeah, I want to kiss him, who wouldn’t? I want to push back the hair that keeps falling into his eyes. I want to sit next to him on the bus, the plane, in peace knowing he’s mine. I want to see what he looks like when he’s dying from pleasure. I want not to be fuckin’ tortured when he walks into the room. I’m painfully aware of where he is at all times. I can tell what kind of mood he’s in from the sound of his voice. I like his fucked up sense of humour, even if half of what he says probably isn’t meant to be funny. I like that he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. I always like stubborn sons of bitches. There’s somethin’ fuckin’ quirkly endearing about refusing to loosen up. And his passion…
He’s so fuckin’ frustrating! I can’t stand him. I don’t get along with him. We’re complete opposites. All I want is for him to love me too.
Title: By Faith Alone. Chapter Three.
Fandom: NHL: Phoenix Coyotes.
Characters: Ed Jovanovski.
Word Count: 668.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Jovo approaches his breaking point.
Author's Notes: This is set late November 2007.
It was a joke. I remember starring at him, unable to believe what I was hearing, not fuckin’ comprehending that this guy was for real not just having me on. I thought I’d heard it all before. I get it, when a guy doesn’t want to sleep around because he’s with someone. I get it, when a guy doesn’t want a casual fuck because he’s looking for love or something more. Even if I think it’s kind of ridiculous to miss out while you’re looking. No reason not to go for the here and now.
I’d never heard ‘no’ because they don’t like it. Maybe back in Windsor, at some point when I was kid, I got turned down ‘cause of that, but I don’t remember it. I can’t imagine missing out on this feeling, of being challenged, of being matched, of having a body that’s similar to yours but different all at the same time. Women are pretty wonderful in their own right. They’re soft sighs, curves, moldable, delicate. Even when they’re Lotta. Even Swedish hellcats, there’s a lady hiding underneath that wants to be coaxed out and cherished. But with men, it’s just different.
Men don’t need another language to get what’s shifting around in your head. It all just happens without words. You have one look and it’ll say everything. You get each other. You have certain needs that are understood. With women, it’s this give and take, it’s compromising. You’ve got to find a balance. With men it’s harmony. Both good, but who doesn’t want that kind of fit you get with the second? Who could say no to that? Hockey players get that. No matter how much I teach Kirstin about hockey, or how much I love her, she’s never gonna be my brother in arms.
Even the religion thing makes more sense. Okay, he’s got this belief system in place which makes him say no when he wants to say yes. But, this ain’t your backyard at home. This is the game. The rules don’t apply. Hockey forms bonds that can’t be broken. Outsiders won’t get it, but we aren’t goin’ outside. We’re here where life happens on ice. Life is so fuckin’ precious. When you’re given the chance to make a beautiful moment with someone else, why not fuckin’ take it? Why say no to love when you can’t plan for what’s going to happen? I know it better than anyone. There are things that can’t be controlled. Things you want to make right which you can’t. Things you’d like to change. But life doesn’t fuckin’ work like that.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I only wanted to fuck him. I’d have gotten over that last season. More fish in the sea or something like that. That’s not the problem. The issue here is, I don’t want to just fuck him, I want to hold him. I want to put that smile which caused this whole mess on his face all the time. Yeah, I want to kiss him, who wouldn’t? I want to push back the hair that keeps falling into his eyes. I want to sit next to him on the bus, the plane, in peace knowing he’s mine. I want to see what he looks like when he’s dying from pleasure. I want not to be fuckin’ tortured when he walks into the room. I’m painfully aware of where he is at all times. I can tell what kind of mood he’s in from the sound of his voice. I like his fucked up sense of humour, even if half of what he says probably isn’t meant to be funny. I like that he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. I always like stubborn sons of bitches. There’s somethin’ fuckin’ quirkly endearing about refusing to loosen up. And his passion…
He’s so fuckin’ frustrating! I can’t stand him. I don’t get along with him. We’re complete opposites. All I want is for him to love me too.