2minsforslashing | 01/??: A TWIST IN MY STORY - Dennis Wideman/Marc Savard (Reply)

Title: A Twist In My Story
Author:

geekintehpink
Pairing/Characters: Marc Savard, Dennis Wideman. Mention of various other Boston Bruins.
Rating: PG13.
Warnings: None. Well, maybe one. Angst ahoy.
Summary: Dennis wants company. But not just any company.
Word Count: 1,163
Author's Notes: Thanks

honeybee718 for betaing.
Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen, don't sue. Kthxbai.

There was something you were rapidly beginning to realize, a lot faster than most people you knew. At twenty-five, you had come to the painful realization that nothing in life was quite as simple as you may have wanted it to be. You think you have them all figured out and they go and change into something totally different and unrecognizable. You're sure...positive that you and Marc had gone from just acquaintances to best friends. You read it in his motions, in his smiles and the way that he always went to you when he wants to do something after away games, or home games even.

He has extra clothes at your place, just in case you decides to stay up late and drink a little, or a lot (or just enough so that he wouldn't be able to go home), and all kinds of hair products and sanitary stuff there, and he's even helped you go grocery shopping once or twice. Typically, Marc spent at least five of the seven days of the week at your place (and the other two were spent on the road) so it was almost like you have an unexpected, unofficial roommate, even at home. And as far as you're concerned, it's actually kind of cool.

But recently—as in over the past couple of weeks, his random visits have stopped. His random appearances with beer and movies haven't been coming, and frankly, it's freaking you out. Mostly because you have no idea what the hell you did wrong. You know he's not homophobic (quite the opposite, really), because you've seen him with a couple of your teammates, and you'd had the hotel room to yourself on the road many a time because of his romps with either teammates or opposition after games, and you took advantage of that to call Andrew over and have a couple of your own.

You know he doesn't think you're bad company, because the last time he'd come over, you'd stayed up until three in the morning, drunkenly (over)analyzing bad eighties movies together and eating cold pizza. And before he'd gone home the next morning (totally sober), he'd told you that you're the only one that he could spend time with like that and not get bored. He'd been sober, so you know that he wasn't talking out his ass. And thinking back on it now, god are you ever confused. Ever since, he'd been avoiding your gaze, and not giving those classic Marc smiles that you've managed to get used to, and it's scaring you. Especially since you've somehow managed to come to enjoy those eyes looking at you.

You picture them in your mind, and you wonder how you hadn't noticed exactly how beautiful they are before. A shade of blue unlike anything you've seen before. And for some reason, some scary, really new, but maybe just a bit (just a little bit) nice...reason, they're all you want to see right then.

Maybe he has a new best friend. You feel twelve about this, but you're jealous. Insanely jealous. More jealous than someone should be over their friend finding someone else to hang around with.

You sigh and look over at the window, down the three floors to the streets, at the headlights of the cars driving by. And you're wondering why you're wishing that one of them were Marc's car. More than wishing. All of a sudden, because he's not there, because he hasn't been there, your heart hurts. And you're fishing through your pocket for your phone. You need to talk to someone about this, because you feel like you're going insane. Surfing through the numbers in your phone, you pass by Andrew's, because you know that the arrangement that the two of you have is one of convenient fucking. Friends who fuck. Which is fine, because honestly, the two of you have too many differences to be a decent couple.

Besides, he definitely wouldn't want to hear this shit. It was way too heavy for Andrew.

You could always call your mom. You laugh and continue to scroll down. Glen? No, that would be weird because you know Glen is one of the guys that Marc messes around with. You continue scrolling, until you realize that there's only one person you really want to talk to. Scrolling back up through your list, you pause and look at his name, then press the send button, walking out to the back porch and putting your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you hear him pick up. He sounds like he's driving, and part of you wonders where he is, but you don't ask.

“Hey, man...” you say, looking down at the barely melting snow sitting in the parking lot behind your apartment. You remember standing outside after Marc had been basically snowed into your apartment for the night, and watching the plow truck pile it into place there, and bite your lip.

It's silent for a second, and you realize that if he's not talking to you, you really must have done something to piss him off. “What's up, Dennis?” he asks, and you hear the traffic around him slow.

You take a breath, and continue to wonder why in the hell you feel like this. Marc is your friend, right? You both have 'convenient arrangements' with others, so why in the hell does your stomach feel like it's flipping around? “Just wondering what you were up to. You haven't come around in awhile and I was wondering if you wanted to come and order some Chinese or something, maybe have a couple drinks and watch some bad movies...”

“Oh...” he says simply.

And the tone in which he says that makes your chest sink. “Oh?” you repeat hesitantly, confusion—and a bit of fear, too, actually—about ready to bust out your chest.

He sighs and your stomach lurches. He's never said no to you before, and you feel it coming. “I kinda made other plans, man. Rain check?”

Turning around and looking back into your apartment, you begin to wonder why in the hell you're feeling like you've just been dumped. “Oh. Okay...” you say. “Call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, Dennis. Talk to you then...” he says, and after that, you hear a snap of his phone closing, and look at the screen on your own phone, noticing that the call had ended.

You walk back inside and suddenly the place you've lived in since you got to Boston feels so much bigger than before. You ponder calling Andrew, but for the first time ever, you have no desire to. Because all of a sudden, all you can think of is Marc Savard. And he's the only person you want around. You put your head in your hands and close your eyes. “What the hell is going on?” If only asking yourself gave you all the answers. You'd be a genius by now.

I'm finally waking up, a twist in my story
It's time I open up, and let your love right through me
I'm finally waking up, a twist in my story
It's time I open up, and let your love right through me
That's what you get
When you see your life in someone else's eyes
That's what you get, that's what you get