It was not a sense of “you know what I should do? I should write fic.” Rather,
it was the sense that I really,
really, really had to write this. I feel
almost like I’m trivializing the situation, but it’s really that I just
like to
think about it like this.
Title: Untitled
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Stevie and Boyd are, at the moment,
owners of
themselves. This is a work of fiction and I do not mean to imply
anything about the actual people involved.
I have, at no point over the past four years (God, four
years? really?) thought that managing the public part of this
relationship
would be easy. I’ve always known I was
going to have to make sacrifices. Still,
all that being said, it pisses me off immensely that I can’t be in the
room for
the conference. Two years ago, I could
have been there without arousing too much suspicion, but now, playing
for
another team, it would just look weird.
So, I watch from the hotel room, box of Kleenex at the
ready, but somehow, I don’t cry. I get
choked up when he does, I have to wipe my eyes when, in typical Stevie
understatement, he says “I did the best I could do,” but I don’t cry. He looks so content, so settled, that I can’t
get too upset.
Of course, once he’s done answering questions and leaves, I
am on the edge of my seat (well, the edge of my bed) waiting for a
phone call,
a text message, ANYTHING from ANYBODY to distract me from this wait. I am not a good waiter, especially not when I
just want to get up and…and…okay, I don’t know what exactly I would do,
but I
would do something.
I am about thirty seconds away from calling Dandy to whine
at him when there is a soft knock on the door.
The cautious hockey player looks through the peephole to find
out who it
is, but I am not what you’d call cautious in situations of extreme
stress. I quickly open the door and,
thankfully, it
is Stevie.
I barely remember to pull him into the room and close the
door before throwing my arms around him.
He holds me back tightly, face in my neck. We
haven’t seen each other in months, and
even if there was nothing else going on today, it would feel so good to
get to
hold him again. Today, though, today is
important.
“You okay?” I whisper into his hair. He
seemed fine, but I need to know.
I can feel him smile.
“I’m a little bit embarrassed.”
I think I should be looking at him for this conversation, but
I can’t let him go. “Why are you
embarrassed?”
“My speech.” Stevie
shifts a bit in my arms. “It was
rather…rambly.”
I have to grin; it kinda was. “It was
very…you.”
He pulls away, and it’s a little bit painful. “Are
you making fun of me?” He is smiling, and
his amusement is reflected
in his eyes.
I hold up my hands defensively. “I would
never! I was just saying that you have
never been
the world’s best public speaker, and your speech was a very accurate
representation of that. If it had been
all polished it would’ve been weird.”
He pretends to think about this. “Alright.
I guess I can forgive you.”
“Good.” I have to
hold him again, and somehow we end up flopped across the bed, his head
on my
chest. “I missed you,” I admit.
He leans up to kiss me.
“Missed you too. I’ll have to
come visit you sometime.” His forehead
wrinkles; I can tell he’s just remembering.
“Any idea where you’re gonna end up?”
I shrug. “Not
really. I just wanna end up
somewhere.” I force myself to
smile. “If it comes down to it, I could
help you with the housework.”
He snickers. “Would
you wear a maid costume for me?”
I grin, for real now.
“For you? No. You
would enjoy it far too much.”
He pushes me gently. “You
are not a nice person.”
I just hold him tighter.
“I’m nice. I just like teasing
you.”
He has no response, and we just lie there together.
I run my fingers through his hair and it’s so
quiet but so perfect. I would never have
expected it, but after I signed with Phoenix,
Stevie and I spend most of our time together not talking, not doing
anything,
just being together. I think we enjoy it
more than any other thing we could be doing.
Still, though, I have to break the silence. The
words are inside of me and I have to say
them. “I am so proud of you.”
It sounds so cheesy and I blush.
He looks up at me and smiles softly, in that way where he
knows I’m being a dork and he knows I know I’m being a dork and he
still loves
me anyway. “Thank you.”
“You’ll always be my favorite player.” Might
as well go for broke now.
He laughs. “Well, I’d
hope so.”
I grin back at him.
“Really though, I just…you’re….” I have no words for everything
he means
to me, not only as my partner, but as my role model, the man I’ve
looked up to
for years.
He kisses me, shutting me up. “I love you.
You’re going to get me all emotional again.
Please stop.”
I squeeze him, kissing him harder and deeper. “Okay,
okay.
I love you too.”
We go back to laying there together, and everything has
changed; he’s retired now, moving on to the next stage in his life, but
we’re
still together, still wrapped up in each other’s arms, and I know that
the
basic things, the important things, have still stayed the same, and
it’s going
to be okay, he’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay, and I am
filled with
unexpected contentment because he’s happy and that’s all that matters.