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Title: Coda
Characters: Marc Savard, Phil Kessel, Zdeno Chara; Boston Bruins
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Fiction.
Summary: Marc Savard is getting ready for the playoffs, and Phil Kessel wants to talk. Kinda.
Note: "I love Sobotka." - Marc Savard, NESN, 4/5/08
Playoffs, playoffs, playoffs, playoffs... the word kept hammering in his head. The Bruins were in the playoffs, and Marc Savard was more hyped up and jittery than he'd been in his entire life.
It was still hours before practice, but he couldn't sleep, couldn't stay home any longer. Giving up on any effort to relax, he drove to the practice rink, planning to work off some of his nerves in the weight room.
Alone, working with hand weights, he was lost in thought, picturing (and hearing) the insanity of that rabid crowd in Montreal, the speed of the Canadiens forwards, when he realized he was being watched. Phil Kessel had walked into the room and was standing quietly, waiting for Savvy to say something. .
"Hey," Savard said, not pausing as he brought one arm up, then the other.
"Hey," Kessel replied. "How's it going?"
"Not bad," Savvy replied. "You OK?" Kessel looked uncomfortable.
"I just noticed the past few days.... you've been hanging with some of the other guys," the young forward said, looking at the floor.
"Kes..." Marc said, putting down the weights. "We're teammates. We're all friends here."
"I know," Kessel said. "But you know what I mean."
"Of course I know what you mean. But you know what I mean too, right? You know I love ya, and I love Metro, and Timmy, and Muzz, and Sturmie, and everyone else on this team. You love them too, doncha?"
Kessel nodded. "In different ways,"
"Of course in different ways," Savard replied, picking up the weights again. "You can't love everyone exactly the same way. Life isn't like that," Even, he thought, if you're not fucking a teammate. Or teammates, as the case may be.
"I just don't want you to be mad at me," Kessel said, his eyes still downcast.
"Mad at you?" Savvy paused in his lifting. "Why should I be mad at you?"
"Because of Ch... because.... because of Chara," Phil seemed to have trouble saying his captain's name.
"I don't own you, Phil," Savard said, back to alternating the weights. "If you want to climb Mount Everest, you're more than welcome." He was suprised to find no venom in his words. He recalled the stabbing jealously he'd felt when he saw Kes and Zee together, but the sudden joyful appearance of David Krejci and Vladimir Sobotka in his hotel room - and his life - had supplanted that feeling. Zee manipulating the strings again, he thought, and shook his head, but more in bemusement than anger.
"But what about..." Kessel seemed to be struggling to express himself. "You weren't... Chara... you..." He looked up at Savard, and gave him that eyebrow raise that Savvy knew so well.
"Chara?" Savard said. "Me and Chara? Are you insane?" He started to laugh, putting the weights down once more.
"Well.... " Kessel shuffled. "He is pretty.... mphm... impressive, you know." His face flooded with crimson. Savard's laughter grew.
"You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din," he said.
"Huh?" Kessel said.
"Rudyard Kipling," Savard said.
Kessel thought a moment. "Didn't he write 'The Jungle Book'?' I read that when I was a kid."
"When was that, last year?" Savard teased. "Yeah, he did... man-cub."
"So I'm Mowgli?" Kessel grinned. "And you're who - Bagheera?"
Savvy felt absurdly pleased. The black panther had been his favorite character. "If you like," he said. "And I suppose we could say Chara is Kaa."
"Not Baloo?"
"Nah, Timmy is Baloo. Ferocious and reactive. Chara is more like Kaa - sneaky and smart and powerful. And huge," Savard grinned. So did Kessel.
"I'm glad you're not mad at me," he said.
"I told you, dumbass, that I love ya," Savard replied. "I'll always love ya."
"And Sobotka," Kessel said, smirking. Marc stared at him. "Did Zee..." he began.
"Zee didn't tell me anything. I can see things for myself. I can see the way you look at Vladie."
"What are you talking about?" Savvy was turning red.
"You give him that look."
"What 'look'? What are you on about?" Savard demanded.
"You look at him like you're starving, and he's a hot fudge sundae," Kessel said, with an infuriating smirk.
Savard dropped the weights on the floor with a thump. "WHAT!?!"
Kessel started to laugh. "I know that look! How do you think I knew you wanted ME? It was written all over your face!"
Marc was horrified. Was his lust for Sobotka so obvious? Did everyone on the team know? "Oh, shit," he moaned.
"Savvy, don't worry, nobody knows... well, other than Chara, of course," Kessel said. "I said I can read your face - that doesn't mean everyone can do it. Everyone else probably thinks you've got a bad stomach or something."
"Oh, great, thanks," Marc said, bending over to pick up the weights. Kessel chuckled, "You've got a really hot ass, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know," Savard said, racking the weights. "And you just scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," Kessel said. He didn't look sorry. His eyes were dancing. "I'm gonna go get dressed," he said.
"You do that," Savard sat on the weight bench, thinking about what he'd said to Kessel about teammates. He really hadn't thought about it much, but he did love them all, every last one of them, from his best friend Marco Sturm to Vladie, the object of his desire, and he believed in them all, and with that belief in each other - call it love if you want to be ridiculously sappy - they could do anything. A thought - a memory - struck him, and he went into the locker room, over to the coaches' dry erase board, and wrote across the top:
The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack
"Kipling," said a deep voice behind him, and he felt Chara's hand on his shoulder. "Appropriate."
"Thanks," Savvy said. He reached up and gave his captain's wrist a quick squeeze. "I thought so."
"Playoff time, Savvy," Chara said, his hand tightening on Marc's shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Ready?" Savard echoed. "Hell, Zee, I've been ready my whole damn life. Let's do this thing,"
Characters: Marc Savard, Phil Kessel, Zdeno Chara; Boston Bruins
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Fiction.
Summary: Marc Savard is getting ready for the playoffs, and Phil Kessel wants to talk. Kinda.
Note: "I love Sobotka." - Marc Savard, NESN, 4/5/08
Playoffs, playoffs, playoffs, playoffs... the word kept hammering in his head. The Bruins were in the playoffs, and Marc Savard was more hyped up and jittery than he'd been in his entire life.
It was still hours before practice, but he couldn't sleep, couldn't stay home any longer. Giving up on any effort to relax, he drove to the practice rink, planning to work off some of his nerves in the weight room.
Alone, working with hand weights, he was lost in thought, picturing (and hearing) the insanity of that rabid crowd in Montreal, the speed of the Canadiens forwards, when he realized he was being watched. Phil Kessel had walked into the room and was standing quietly, waiting for Savvy to say something. .
"Hey," Savard said, not pausing as he brought one arm up, then the other.
"Hey," Kessel replied. "How's it going?"
"Not bad," Savvy replied. "You OK?" Kessel looked uncomfortable.
"I just noticed the past few days.... you've been hanging with some of the other guys," the young forward said, looking at the floor.
"Kes..." Marc said, putting down the weights. "We're teammates. We're all friends here."
"I know," Kessel said. "But you know what I mean."
"Of course I know what you mean. But you know what I mean too, right? You know I love ya, and I love Metro, and Timmy, and Muzz, and Sturmie, and everyone else on this team. You love them too, doncha?"
Kessel nodded. "In different ways,"
"Of course in different ways," Savard replied, picking up the weights again. "You can't love everyone exactly the same way. Life isn't like that," Even, he thought, if you're not fucking a teammate. Or teammates, as the case may be.
"I just don't want you to be mad at me," Kessel said, his eyes still downcast.
"Mad at you?" Savvy paused in his lifting. "Why should I be mad at you?"
"Because of Ch... because.... because of Chara," Phil seemed to have trouble saying his captain's name.
"I don't own you, Phil," Savard said, back to alternating the weights. "If you want to climb Mount Everest, you're more than welcome." He was suprised to find no venom in his words. He recalled the stabbing jealously he'd felt when he saw Kes and Zee together, but the sudden joyful appearance of David Krejci and Vladimir Sobotka in his hotel room - and his life - had supplanted that feeling. Zee manipulating the strings again, he thought, and shook his head, but more in bemusement than anger.
"But what about..." Kessel seemed to be struggling to express himself. "You weren't... Chara... you..." He looked up at Savard, and gave him that eyebrow raise that Savvy knew so well.
"Chara?" Savard said. "Me and Chara? Are you insane?" He started to laugh, putting the weights down once more.
"Well.... " Kessel shuffled. "He is pretty.... mphm... impressive, you know." His face flooded with crimson. Savard's laughter grew.
"You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din," he said.
"Huh?" Kessel said.
"Rudyard Kipling," Savard said.
Kessel thought a moment. "Didn't he write 'The Jungle Book'?' I read that when I was a kid."
"When was that, last year?" Savard teased. "Yeah, he did... man-cub."
"So I'm Mowgli?" Kessel grinned. "And you're who - Bagheera?"
Savvy felt absurdly pleased. The black panther had been his favorite character. "If you like," he said. "And I suppose we could say Chara is Kaa."
"Not Baloo?"
"Nah, Timmy is Baloo. Ferocious and reactive. Chara is more like Kaa - sneaky and smart and powerful. And huge," Savard grinned. So did Kessel.
"I'm glad you're not mad at me," he said.
"I told you, dumbass, that I love ya," Savard replied. "I'll always love ya."
"And Sobotka," Kessel said, smirking. Marc stared at him. "Did Zee..." he began.
"Zee didn't tell me anything. I can see things for myself. I can see the way you look at Vladie."
"What are you talking about?" Savvy was turning red.
"You give him that look."
"What 'look'? What are you on about?" Savard demanded.
"You look at him like you're starving, and he's a hot fudge sundae," Kessel said, with an infuriating smirk.
Savard dropped the weights on the floor with a thump. "WHAT!?!"
Kessel started to laugh. "I know that look! How do you think I knew you wanted ME? It was written all over your face!"
Marc was horrified. Was his lust for Sobotka so obvious? Did everyone on the team know? "Oh, shit," he moaned.
"Savvy, don't worry, nobody knows... well, other than Chara, of course," Kessel said. "I said I can read your face - that doesn't mean everyone can do it. Everyone else probably thinks you've got a bad stomach or something."
"Oh, great, thanks," Marc said, bending over to pick up the weights. Kessel chuckled, "You've got a really hot ass, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know," Savard said, racking the weights. "And you just scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," Kessel said. He didn't look sorry. His eyes were dancing. "I'm gonna go get dressed," he said.
"You do that," Savard sat on the weight bench, thinking about what he'd said to Kessel about teammates. He really hadn't thought about it much, but he did love them all, every last one of them, from his best friend Marco Sturm to Vladie, the object of his desire, and he believed in them all, and with that belief in each other - call it love if you want to be ridiculously sappy - they could do anything. A thought - a memory - struck him, and he went into the locker room, over to the coaches' dry erase board, and wrote across the top:
The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack
"Kipling," said a deep voice behind him, and he felt Chara's hand on his shoulder. "Appropriate."
"Thanks," Savvy said. He reached up and gave his captain's wrist a quick squeeze. "I thought so."
"Playoff time, Savvy," Chara said, his hand tightening on Marc's shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Ready?" Savard echoed. "Hell, Zee, I've been ready my whole damn life. Let's do this thing,"
no subject
Date: 2008-11-05 01:35 am (UTC)once more: i love it.
plus, all the kipling! fabulous - and it totally works.
(no subject)
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