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Sep. 17th, 2008 09:43 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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2minsforslashingAN- From one of those drabble/story writing meme things. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mistokath13 's prompt.
Title: Four Guys
Pairing: Chris Osgood/Secret :)
Mention of Nick Lidstrom/Tomas Holmstrom, Chris Chelios/Jiri Fischer and Chris Chelios/Niklas Kronwall (RPS Detroit Red Wings)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The following is a work of not for profit fiction and no insult or assumption is implied by the use of the names of the persons therein. Read- It's just for fun and NOT REAL, no matter how fun the pictures would be.
Summary: Four guys Ozzie kissed and didn't fall in love with and one where it happened.
Kissing Drapes was fun. New Year’s, midnight, nicely sloshed…everyone else had gotten their New Year’s kiss, why not him? And then Kris had leaned over, grinning, eyes shiny with drink and kissed him. Just a quick little peck between friends but fun nonetheless.
Nick had been a surprisingly good kisser, Ozzie mused. Homer was a lucky man. They hadn’t been together at the time, of course, Nick hadn’t clued in yet. Summer, a lake, loud boisterous teammates, bonfires on the beach. Good times. He and Nick had been vegging out some distance from the bonfire when Nick had turned to him and said,” You know, I’ve never kissed a goalie before.” Out of the blue.
That situation had to be rectified of course, so Oz leaned in and kissed him, one of those long, lingering movie-style kisses. He’d sat back afterward, feeling slightly dazed. ”Well, now you have.”
Manny. Fumbling, nervous, his first experience with another man. Tasted like bubble gum, Chris recalled. Wet. Cute. But there had been nothing behind it, just playfulness, a sense of trying to ease his friend’s mind, to show that kissing another guy and liking it was just fine.
Cheli had been hard, fast, aggressive. Squished up against a wall, fevered, it was hot. Cheli was proving something to himself, Oz thought, something to do with the lingering feelings he knew the other man still had for Jiri. Whatever it was, it had worked, as Cheli was with Kronner now, had made up Jiri, they were friends. Still, Ozzie wondered what it would have been like, to be with Cheli.
He’d cared for all of them, liked the quickening breath on his skin, stubble scraping, the warmth of another man’s lips. None of them though, had been right. Until now. Chris rolled over and saw his bedmate giving him a lazy grin.
“C’mere Oz ball.”
Ozzie complied, scooting over and draping himself over his lover’s chest, bending down for a kiss. This was right, it was fireworks and rainbows and everything else, tasted like cinnamon gum, felt like heaven. He’d never fallen for any of the others but this…
Darren slid his hands up Ozzie’s neck and into his hair, making the goaltender shiver. This was nirvana. This was paradise. This was what love felt like.
AN- From one of those drabble/story writing meme things.brigidmn 's prompt.
Title: Four Foods
Pairing: None (RPS Detroit Red Wings) Mention of Kris Draper/Kirk Maltby
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The following is a work of not for profit fiction and no insult or assumption is implied by the use of the names of the persons therein. Read- It's just for fun and NOT REAL, no matter how fun the pictures would be.
Summary: Four foods Ozzie thought he wouldn't like and one he thought he would.
“It’s…it’s what? “ Chris stared at Nick and Homer. Mac coughed into his hand, staring over Ozzie’s head, trying to hide a grin.
“Reindeer. Or caribou, as you call it here. Try it.”
Ozzie blinked at Nick’s statement. “I’m now mowing down on Rudolph, that’s obscene.”
“You eat bacon,” Darren pointed out. “How is Babe any different that Rudolph?”
“Babe wasn’t a yearly staple of my childhood,” Chris retorted, but he picked up his fork nonetheless. It wasn’t bad he thought, chewing. Bit gamier than what he was used to, rich. He swallowed. “I like it.”
“Try the blood dumplings.” Nick sat back and grinned at Chris’ expression. Ozzie swallowed thickly, wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this and picked up his fork again.
~
“You’re Scottish, come on.”
“You do realize what this is, yes?”
“Sheep’s heart, liver and lungs, minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally boiled in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours,” Darren recited calmly. “My grandmother used to feed it to us.”
“You’re Irish!”
“And Scottish. Regardless, there’s no rule saying a non-Scottish person can’t eat it, is there?”
“Well, no. Not that I know of anyway.” Ozzie ventured a nibble, trying very hard not to think about what he was putting into his mouth. Surely Mac’s co…no, he was going to keep away from thoughts of anything while eating sheep guts.
“So?”
“It’s…way better than I thought it would be.”
“See? Trying new things won’t kill you.”
~
“It’s…”
“Yellow tail,” Hank supplied, grimacing. “And fried shrimp rolls.”
“Do I have to use the chopsticks?”
“You not have to. But is better experience for you,” Pav coaxed, pushing the wooden utensils toward Chris, who sighed and unwrapped them. Might as well get it over with. Raw fish and sour rice weren’t all that appealing, though Chris had always been a firm believer in the “How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” mantra. He’d try anything once.
“So?” Hank ventured after a few mouthfuls, looking revolted. Pavel elbowed him, hard.
“It’s…different. I could get used to it.” It actually wasn’t bad. Tangy, bit fishy tasting, though that was to be expected. “Overall, it’s not bad.”
Hank buried his head in his arms with a groan as Pavel raised both arms in a kind of victory salute. Ozzie grinned and left them to it. He was going to finish his meal.
~
“Oyster shooters, come on Ozzie,” Malts whined. “I don’t wanna do it alone.”
“Only if Drapes agrees to do it too.”
Malts turned puppy dog eyes on his longtime lover. The redhead sighed and gave in. “All right. But only to make Chris do it.”
The three of them sat staring at the shot glasses on the table in front of them.
“Whose going first?”
“This was your idea,” Drapes responded swiftly.
“It’s not such a good idea actually.” Kirk poked a finger into the shot glass and jabbed the rubbery occupant.
Ozzie rolled his eyes. “We can all do it at once, okay?” He eyed his mixture of vodka, shrimp sauce and raw seafood. “You know Pav would probably like these, vodka and raw fish.”
“On three?”
“Okay. One, two…” they raised there glasses. “Three.” Three shot glasses were upturned, three raw oysters were consumed.
“Chewy,” Kris commented.
Ozzie nodded. “Kind of a slippery, spicy tangy taste hey?”
“Fishy,” Kirk commented, lifting the empty glass to eye level. “Shall we have another?”
Ozzie and Drapes looked at each other and shrugged. “Why not?”
~
“It’s Christmas, it’s tradition,” Kronner said sternly. Chris shrugged.
“Sure, I’ve always wanted to try mulled wine.” He liked regular wine, why not heated spiced wine? It could be good. Either way, Chris figured he’d like it. At least it wasn’t slimy, raw or containing blood and guts.
“Cheers,” Nick said, lifting his glass slightly. The circle of teammates around him did the same before drinking deeply.
From the first taste, Ozzie’s gut lurched, but he forced it down and ignored his sloshing stomach. It felt like he’d just drunk watered down melted candle wax and he declined a second glass, wondering how quickly he could excuse himself to go to the bathroom and rinse his mouth out. Christmas tradition or not, he wasn’t interested in spending the rest of the night trying not to vomit. Scratch mulled wine off the list.
mistokath13 's prompt.Title: Four Guys
Pairing: Chris Osgood/Secret :)
Mention of Nick Lidstrom/Tomas Holmstrom, Chris Chelios/Jiri Fischer and Chris Chelios/Niklas Kronwall (RPS Detroit Red Wings)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The following is a work of not for profit fiction and no insult or assumption is implied by the use of the names of the persons therein. Read- It's just for fun and NOT REAL, no matter how fun the pictures would be.
Summary: Four guys Ozzie kissed and didn't fall in love with and one where it happened.
Kissing Drapes was fun. New Year’s, midnight, nicely sloshed…everyone else had gotten their New Year’s kiss, why not him? And then Kris had leaned over, grinning, eyes shiny with drink and kissed him. Just a quick little peck between friends but fun nonetheless.
Nick had been a surprisingly good kisser, Ozzie mused. Homer was a lucky man. They hadn’t been together at the time, of course, Nick hadn’t clued in yet. Summer, a lake, loud boisterous teammates, bonfires on the beach. Good times. He and Nick had been vegging out some distance from the bonfire when Nick had turned to him and said,” You know, I’ve never kissed a goalie before.” Out of the blue.
That situation had to be rectified of course, so Oz leaned in and kissed him, one of those long, lingering movie-style kisses. He’d sat back afterward, feeling slightly dazed. ”Well, now you have.”
Manny. Fumbling, nervous, his first experience with another man. Tasted like bubble gum, Chris recalled. Wet. Cute. But there had been nothing behind it, just playfulness, a sense of trying to ease his friend’s mind, to show that kissing another guy and liking it was just fine.
Cheli had been hard, fast, aggressive. Squished up against a wall, fevered, it was hot. Cheli was proving something to himself, Oz thought, something to do with the lingering feelings he knew the other man still had for Jiri. Whatever it was, it had worked, as Cheli was with Kronner now, had made up Jiri, they were friends. Still, Ozzie wondered what it would have been like, to be with Cheli.
He’d cared for all of them, liked the quickening breath on his skin, stubble scraping, the warmth of another man’s lips. None of them though, had been right. Until now. Chris rolled over and saw his bedmate giving him a lazy grin.
“C’mere Oz ball.”
Ozzie complied, scooting over and draping himself over his lover’s chest, bending down for a kiss. This was right, it was fireworks and rainbows and everything else, tasted like cinnamon gum, felt like heaven. He’d never fallen for any of the others but this…
Darren slid his hands up Ozzie’s neck and into his hair, making the goaltender shiver. This was nirvana. This was paradise. This was what love felt like.
AN- From one of those drabble/story writing meme things.
brigidmn 's prompt.Title: Four Foods
Pairing: None (RPS Detroit Red Wings) Mention of Kris Draper/Kirk Maltby
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The following is a work of not for profit fiction and no insult or assumption is implied by the use of the names of the persons therein. Read- It's just for fun and NOT REAL, no matter how fun the pictures would be.
Summary: Four foods Ozzie thought he wouldn't like and one he thought he would.
“It’s…it’s what? “ Chris stared at Nick and Homer. Mac coughed into his hand, staring over Ozzie’s head, trying to hide a grin.
“Reindeer. Or caribou, as you call it here. Try it.”
Ozzie blinked at Nick’s statement. “I’m now mowing down on Rudolph, that’s obscene.”
“You eat bacon,” Darren pointed out. “How is Babe any different that Rudolph?”
“Babe wasn’t a yearly staple of my childhood,” Chris retorted, but he picked up his fork nonetheless. It wasn’t bad he thought, chewing. Bit gamier than what he was used to, rich. He swallowed. “I like it.”
“Try the blood dumplings.” Nick sat back and grinned at Chris’ expression. Ozzie swallowed thickly, wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this and picked up his fork again.
~
“You’re Scottish, come on.”
“You do realize what this is, yes?”
“Sheep’s heart, liver and lungs, minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally boiled in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours,” Darren recited calmly. “My grandmother used to feed it to us.”
“You’re Irish!”
“And Scottish. Regardless, there’s no rule saying a non-Scottish person can’t eat it, is there?”
“Well, no. Not that I know of anyway.” Ozzie ventured a nibble, trying very hard not to think about what he was putting into his mouth. Surely Mac’s co…no, he was going to keep away from thoughts of anything while eating sheep guts.
“So?”
“It’s…way better than I thought it would be.”
“See? Trying new things won’t kill you.”
~
“It’s…”
“Yellow tail,” Hank supplied, grimacing. “And fried shrimp rolls.”
“Do I have to use the chopsticks?”
“You not have to. But is better experience for you,” Pav coaxed, pushing the wooden utensils toward Chris, who sighed and unwrapped them. Might as well get it over with. Raw fish and sour rice weren’t all that appealing, though Chris had always been a firm believer in the “How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” mantra. He’d try anything once.
“So?” Hank ventured after a few mouthfuls, looking revolted. Pavel elbowed him, hard.
“It’s…different. I could get used to it.” It actually wasn’t bad. Tangy, bit fishy tasting, though that was to be expected. “Overall, it’s not bad.”
Hank buried his head in his arms with a groan as Pavel raised both arms in a kind of victory salute. Ozzie grinned and left them to it. He was going to finish his meal.
~
“Oyster shooters, come on Ozzie,” Malts whined. “I don’t wanna do it alone.”
“Only if Drapes agrees to do it too.”
Malts turned puppy dog eyes on his longtime lover. The redhead sighed and gave in. “All right. But only to make Chris do it.”
The three of them sat staring at the shot glasses on the table in front of them.
“Whose going first?”
“This was your idea,” Drapes responded swiftly.
“It’s not such a good idea actually.” Kirk poked a finger into the shot glass and jabbed the rubbery occupant.
Ozzie rolled his eyes. “We can all do it at once, okay?” He eyed his mixture of vodka, shrimp sauce and raw seafood. “You know Pav would probably like these, vodka and raw fish.”
“On three?”
“Okay. One, two…” they raised there glasses. “Three.” Three shot glasses were upturned, three raw oysters were consumed.
“Chewy,” Kris commented.
Ozzie nodded. “Kind of a slippery, spicy tangy taste hey?”
“Fishy,” Kirk commented, lifting the empty glass to eye level. “Shall we have another?”
Ozzie and Drapes looked at each other and shrugged. “Why not?”
~
“It’s Christmas, it’s tradition,” Kronner said sternly. Chris shrugged.
“Sure, I’ve always wanted to try mulled wine.” He liked regular wine, why not heated spiced wine? It could be good. Either way, Chris figured he’d like it. At least it wasn’t slimy, raw or containing blood and guts.
“Cheers,” Nick said, lifting his glass slightly. The circle of teammates around him did the same before drinking deeply.
From the first taste, Ozzie’s gut lurched, but he forced it down and ignored his sloshing stomach. It felt like he’d just drunk watered down melted candle wax and he declined a second glass, wondering how quickly he could excuse himself to go to the bathroom and rinse his mouth out. Christmas tradition or not, he wasn’t interested in spending the rest of the night trying not to vomit. Scratch mulled wine off the list.
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