Drinking for 11

[mafp-n-guin.livejournal.com]

Author:

mafp_n_guin
Title: Drinking for 11
Pairing: Ryan Whitney/ Brooks Orpik
Fandom: Pittsburgh Penguins
Rating: R 
A/N: okay, please be nice...this is my first Whitney/Orpik story...actually, don't be nice. TELL ME WHAT YOU REALLY THINK!!!! seriously though...so yeah, truthful works....i call it 'constructive criticism'...anyway, enjoy.

 

 

Drinkin’ for 11, that’s just what I do
When I’m not with you
My heart goes to bed

 
Brooks stared into the amber liquid, trying his best to ignore the looks given to him by his teammates and the ones missing from the person he wants them from. Since high school he’s willed the glances, the smirks, the glares and most of all, the feelings, away with his liquid happiness. Sidney and Max were dancing, the captain being completely smashed after five beers, and Max just in the mood to embarrass him. Evgeni and Jordan were sharing a corner table, sitting next to each other, hands clasped under the table, and exchanging conversation in hushed voices. Marc-Andre and Veronique were swaying gently together, lost in each other, and Brooks’ gaze returned to his drink.

“hey Brooksie…you up for a game of pool? darts? Anything?” Bugsey asked, sliding onto the stool next to him, Brooks shook his head, downed the rest of his beer, and stood.

“nah…I‘m gonna head home. I‘m still a little tired. G‘night Ryan…” he slurred slightly, waving as he walked out of the bar.

 

End of the bar, That’s just where I’ll be
Don’t try and come find me
Cuz I’m already dead

 

“Brooks! Hey…Brooksie, STOP!” Brooks turned, finding a panting Ryan Whitney running up the sidewalk towards him

“what?” he groaned, his head already starting to pound

“Bugsey said you were heading home… you need a ride?” Brook shook his head.

“nahhh, I already called for a cab. Thanks though. See ya at practice…” He turned and kept walking, figuring Ryan would go back to the bar and continue to party. He was sure Ryan wouldn’t follow him, so he made the familiar turn into the bar. The one where he wasn’t. The one that didn’t care if he drank himself to oblivion. He took his usual seat, and ordered his usual drink from the usual bartend. safety in routine… his mind sneered. Ryan felt his heart almost break as he watched his friend hide in the back of the bar, a look of pure sorrow on his face as he drowned himself in the glass of Jack Daniels in front of him

 

With one eye tied upon the open road
I feel you presence and I can’t let it go
It moves so slowly as it creeps into my mind
Steals every breath I have and leaves my heart behind

The bus was cold and quiet, just the way Brooks liked it. It reminded him of the rink after practice. Cold, desolate, and unforgiving. Everybody was either asleep or nearly there except for Brooks. His eyes were fixated on the road, blue orbs following the white lines as the bus moved further from somewhere and closer to nowhere. He could feel someone’s gaze on him, but chose to ignore it. It was probably Coach or Tangers anyway, and he didn’t feel like talking to either. When the feeling of being watched grew uncomfortable, he sighed and stood, making his way to the restroom in the back of the bus. He felt an odd sensation prick at his heart when he realized it was Ryan who had been watching him. The exchanged smiles, though brooks was fake and forced, and brooks continued up the aisle as Whits returned to his sleep, reassured by the false grin that everything was alright.

 

 

I wanna know what your feeling
If your feeling alone
I wanna hear if you still care
The last time I remember you\
Was the last time I wasn’t scared
When the night starts fading and the morning arrives
I wanna still feel you around
Will you creep into my head again and pick me up off the ground
Once more, tell me what your fighting for

 

“okay, so hes just laying there on the ice. Not moving, not talking…I thought he was dead, I swear. So I skate over to him, and I wave the doc over, and I‘m shaking him. All of a sudden, he wakes up, and he has this crazy look on his face and I just scream. Everybody‘s rushing over now cuz they think hes really hurt, and hes fine, y‘know, so they‘re all yelling at me for panicking and Im just out of breath because he scared the shit outta me…” Whits cuckles, causing the locker room to erupt in fits of laughter. Brooks, in turn, just sighs and stands, heading for the showers, hoping nobody notices he’s left. He’s sure nobody realized he’s gone until he turned around. Whits.

“Brooksie…whats up man? You‘ve been kinda…distant. ” Brooks shrugs and pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his defined torso.

“I‘m fine.”

“dude…your not fine. Would you just get over Erin? Everybody feels alone after they break up, but you take it to an extreme… You were always the fearless one at Thayer…and even in BC you didn‘t shirk on your playing…”

“well, I‘m sorry I‘m shirking…” Brooks growled, letting his pants drop to the floor, followed soon by his boxers as he stepped under the spray of water. Whits, not happy about being shrugged off, stormed back into the locker room.

 

Gotta try, gotta try for tomorrow
You can’t see through today
Gotta try, gotta try for tomorrow
You can’t see through today
Theres nowhere left to stay

 

“would you just tell him already? Jesus Christ, sometimes I wonder if I‘m not the older one…” Andrew grumbled. Brooks stared ahead as his brother continued “just get him alone and tell him…You‘ve known him long enough that it shouldn‘t be that much of a shock that your gay…”

“I guess” he mumbled

“good, tell him at practice tomorrow…and Brooksie…no more drinking.”

“huh? How‘d yo-”

“he told me… He called and asked what he should do… He‘s worried about you, man.”

“to bad the only one who isn‘t is me… Night Andy” He shut the phone before his sibling could reply and picked up the bottle from the table next to him, allowing the vodka to burn at his throat. “another night with my best friend…” he cheered mournfully, raising the bottle in a toast to nobody

Sometimes I feel like I’m out here all alone
Just one of the millions that we’ve no place left to go
Fear steps up to me with every move that I make
Following close behind, my soul it wants to take

The surface could have been perfect if not for the slices and abrasions caused by the steel blades strapped to his feet. Southpointe was still dark, the only light coming from the gym windows overlooking the rink and a few small lights on above the bleachers. No lights, no heat, no fans, whistles or drills… just him, his skates, and his blades. This was the time of the day Brooks relished. A chance to stretch his legs and just glide, all worries of body checks, blocking shots, and penalty kills erased from his mind for these few peaceful moments. He hears the rink door open, and knows he’s not alone. But no matter what, he can’t bring himself to care in the slightest. It’s the same as stepping out on the ice for a game…thousands watching you, screaming for you…and yet you feel you’re the only one there. He can hear the ice crunch as his companions skates meet the ice before breaking into a stride. Brooks stops, mid ice, and looks up, not anxious in the slightest to see whose interrupted his skate. When the body skated up to him, the familiar size and scent made his breath catch in his throat. He must have been visibly shaken, because Ryan set a hand on his shoulder.

“what are you so afraid of? Why are you afraid of me Brooks? ME…” his voice sounded lost, and brooks brought his eyes down from the rafters to meet Ryan’s.

“’m not afraid of you…I‘m afraid of me” He whispered before skating off

 

 

I wanna know what your feeling
If your feeling alone
I wanna hear if you still care
The last time I remember you
Was the last time I wasn’t scared
When the night starts fading and the morning arrives
I wanna still feel you around
Will you creep into my head again and pick me up off the ground
Once more, tell me what your fighting for

 

A knock at his front door shook Brooks from his date with Skyy and reruns of 24. He set the blue bottle down and walked over, gasping at the face looking back at him through the peekhole. He quickly unlatched the deadbolt and opened the door, standing back slightly to let the younger man in.

“Whits…”

“look, Brooksie, I want to know. Why won‘t you talk to me anymore? If you don‘t want to be around me, then tell me. If you still want me around, tell me. Your afraid of everything, even your shadow.”

“’m not afraid right now…” He mumbled, motioning for the defenseman to come in before resuming his place on the battered sofa. Eventually, Ryan sat beside him, looking at Brooks for only a moment before turning his attention to the television. They eased into a comfortable silence, each engrossed in his own thoughts as the night passed. When Ryan eventually stole a look at Brooks again, he smiled softly. The blonde was asleep, curled into a ball against the armrest. He stood and made his way to the door and heard Brooks stir slightly.

“don‘t leave…” the sleeping man mumbled, causing Ryan to stop in his tracks. He shrugged, smiled, and returned to the couch, following Brooks’ example an curling up to sleep. Brooks smiled when he heard Ryan’s breathing even out. He sat up, grateful simply to have company other than Skyy. He picked up the bottle and made his way to the kitchenette to dump the stale beverage. There was a note on the counter, and he picked it up

“tell me what your fighting, Brooks… I can‘t help your cause if I don‘t know what it is…”

 

Gotta try, gotta try for tomorrow
You can’t see through today
Gotta try, gotta try for tomorrow
You can’t see through today
Theres nowhere left to stay

 

“I‘m fighting myself… I‘m fighting the voices in my head that constantly tell me what to do, what to say, how to feel… I feel like a puppet pulling it‘s own strings…” Brooks whispered, his companion listening on silently “all my life…’its wrong…being gay is a sin‘ and so on. Sure, I still dated men…hell, my first real boyfriend was at Thayer with us… but, my mind tells me it’s wrong to love the one I do. I keep telling myself it’ll never happen, but that little glimmer of hope is still there” He turned to Ryan, expecting a mixture of disgust and sympathy. Instead, he found Ryan’s lips pressed to his. When they pulled apart, Ryan smiled

“that glimmer just brightened, I think…”

 

Drinkin’ for 11, that’s just what I do
When I’m not with you
My heart goes to bed…

 

Brooks shook the memories from his head, letting a few tears leak from his ‘glaciers’ as Ryan used to call them. He looked up from his beer, hoping it had all been a dream…a nightmare. But there he was, Ryan with his hands resting on their goaltenders hips, both of them swaying to the music. All those months, nights, games, and kisses had meant nothing in the end to number 19...and here was 44, back in the corner nursing another beer… and on the road to another drunken sleep and hungover heartache.