2minsforslashing | Keep Me Close- Chapter XIX

Team: San Jose Sharks
Pairing: Joe Thornton/Evgeni Nabokov
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Not all in San Jose is sunny as the path to the Stanley Cup proves to be as difficult as ever; falling in love might be the simplest task on this year’s agenda.
Editor:

Disclaimer: Neither team nor individual people belong to me. This is all in good fun.

-Chapter XIX-

Devin laughed quietly, his eyes flickering between the window and his teammate. “So that’s why you stare out the window so much? To see the stars? That’s a little cheesy, don’t ya think?”

But Joe shook his head immediately at the sophomore’s flippant words. “Actually... it’s nice, calming really. You realize how small you are when you see all of them, you know? Away from the cities; they seem to go on forever…” A small smile tugged at the corner of Joe’s lips, and it was a moment after his speech that he noticed his gaze had fallen upon the back of Evgeni’s chair once again.

-----

Joe was roused awake by the plane’s rumbling engines when it began its descent. Looking around through half-lidded eyes, the cabin seemed as though it had sunken underwater. Not one Shark stirred, for sleep still laid heavily upon them.

Even Devin, Joe found when he swiveled his head to his left, had fallen to sleep. His cheek rested upon the open window, early morning light filtering through the film of drool that escaped Devin’s wide open mouth. Deep, even breaths whistled from his nose and his eyebrows furrowed together slightly before they relaxed themselves again.

Joe cracked a smile, but the twitch of his lips wavered, a long, groggy yawn forcing itself out of his chest. He covered his mouth hastily, the whine from the back of his throat mostly smothered into his hand, effectively not waking anyone else. That was when the smell hit his nose.

Devin had been right. He did smell like sex.

Well that was embarrassing; he hoped that no one noticed, or perhaps that everyone would think that Devin somehow gotten his smell on him or… Evgeni.

The man’s image swam to the front of Joe’s brain and he froze. His eyes cleared of their waking daze when he focused in on the back of Evgeni’s chair, just as grey and uncomfortable as the rest of the seats on the plane.

What was he supposed to do now? Joe wished that he could shrug his shoulders and put off the thinking for another time, but he was fooling himself if he thought he could actually fall asleep when his brain was buzzing with unanswered questions.

He was split, torn in two, what ever unsure decision metaphor one could come up with, Joe was it. He just did not know what to think… about anything.

First of course, was the fight. Why did Joe think it was a good idea to start mouthing off at Evgeni? When had not thinking first ever helped him in any way, shape or form? He wanted to ram his head repeatedly into a wall. Or apologize profusely to the other. He would probably end up doing both if Evgeni refused his request for forgiveness, and Joe would not actually blame him for it. He’d be pissed off too.

What had he said before Evgeni swore him out? Oh, right. He had insinuated that Evgeni seduced him because he felt vulnerable. That was brilliant. Now he really wanted to find a nice hard wall to smash his head through.

What he needed was a plan, to form his words carefully, and think through what he should say that could redeem himself in Evgeni’s eyes. But he could not think of any logical words when another pressing matter refused to go away in his head.

The sex.

Oh Jesus, the sex.

With another man.

Where had that come from? Joe had never even given a second thought to the possibility that he could be… physically intimate with other men. Sure, he had a few thoughts when he was a teenager, but he never acted upon them. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t get hard at every touch of skin-on-skin when he went through puberty anyway. But what thirteen year old boy didn’t?

‘Ugh, that’s not the point.’

He should be confused, and he was, just… not in the way he thought he should be confused. He should be disgusted with himself… but he really could not say anything of the sort. Sophisticated words were not getting him anywhere. Freaked out, maybe? But he was not even that. Not in the way he thought he should be.

Joe balled his hand and clutched at his throbbing temple. Why was it so hard to figure out what he was feeling? It was inside his own head, after all.

It was not even the fact that the sex swayed his opinions. Though, Joe would be kidding himself if he denied that he had not come that powerfully and spectacularly since his time with Tabea in Switzerland during the lockout… when he was really hammered.

‘Still not the point.’

Was he questioning his sexuality now? He did not even know that for certain. It was just him, Evgeni, and them together. Why was that so complicated?

Why did that one night have to ruin everything but still feel so good?

He sighed and attempted to cleanse his raging mind by looking out the window. He cringed instead when he remembered that Devin had chosen it as his new pillow, marking it generously with his spit. Then he found himself staring at the same seat once again. His brow lowered and his bottom jaw jutted out with indignation. ‘Well that plan didn’t work.’ Evgeni never seemed far from his mind lately.

He could not think straight, but he could remember.

It was not awkward or uncomfortable, the not talking. The constant rain filled the silence and put both men at ease.

Fingers dipped over the curves of Evgeni’s milky flesh, muscles rippling beneath the organ. Soap clung to the blond hairs, popping seconds later and pooling as liquid into the crevices. Evgeni’s folded hands were placed in his lap, modestly covering himself. Respectfully, Joe took the soap away just above the wrists.

Steadying himself, Joe placed his right hand besides Evgeni’s head for balance. He rubbed the soap in circles over the flat chest that had a light dusting of curly hairs in the middle. The bar flattened the hairs to the slick skin, before they sprung back up. Peach colored nipples lay on mounds of muscle, and they stiffened slightly when Joe accidentally brushed against them.

Why had that not been as uncomfortable then as Joe thought it was now? He wanted to help his new friend, so he did in the best way he could. He helped Evgeni wash up in the hotel shower. ‘Why wasn’t it awkward again?’

He asked even though he knew the answer. ‘Because I was comfortable doing it,’ Even if he could never have done it with any other guy on the team.

“Do you hear the crowd roaring your name when you come on the screen?… Or see the standing ovation for you after a shutout?…

“Do you feel the almost overwhelming intensity in the building, so much that it’s hard to breathe, but so electrifyingly beautiful at the same time that you can’t help but feel more alive, but just happy being alive, after you make an amazing save?”

Silence filled the endless gap of space between the two. “Because I do... Don’t you know how much they— we love you?”

Joe could only shake his head. Had he really been that cheesy and not have noticed it? Maybe Devin was right. Or maybe he was just that oblivious to what came out of his mouth. But at that time, he’d believed what he was saying, and he still did.

The stars of the night shined brightly in his glassy orbs. A storm of emotions swirled just below the surface, causing the mirrored lights to ripple into liquid gold. The whole universe shown in those conflicted eyes, enchanting Joe more than the actual picture behind him.

He stared at Evgeni, who lost himself out the window and into the endless void beyond the thin Plexiglas window. A cough from the front of the plane diverted Evgeni’s attention briefly, and when he looked back, his eyes were dull.

Joe stopped and chanced a glance out the window, even though he knew the sun would be shining through the layer of Devin’s slobber. He looked away, rolling his eyes. Why he allowed himself to even try was beyond him.

But he had to stop and think. Was that why he was so transfixed on staring out the window? To see the stars stretch on forever, because Evgeni’s eyes were not open and sparkling to do so? Was that why he would lose himself in both without realizing it?

Evgeni really was beautiful; Joe just wished the man knew that.

Joe would not lie to himself; he had noticed the endearing flush that spread over Evgeni’s skin when he became filled with emotion, be it excitement, embarrassment, or anger. He had noticed the soft bow to Evgeni’s lips, and how the pink flesh would catch between his teeth, making them maddeningly swollen. He had noticed the straight line of his nose, then how it led up to his expressive eyes.

Of course he had noticed those eyes. Not so much blue as they were grey, as opposed to last year, but the man had little reason to flaunt the happy color, Joe supposed. They were grey, but every flicker of emotion would shine through, even when the blue could not. They were every shade of the dreary sky, and they were just as endless.

Of course Joe found them to be beautiful; but he did not realize that he thought the rest of the man to be just as much so.

-----

The team touched down in Phoenix in the early morning. Todd and Evgeni were the first off the plane, and they were nowhere to be found by the time Joe even left the terminal.

Patrick came up to him with his sad eyes sparkling with curiosity as he laid a comforting hand on Joe’s sagging shoulders. He skipped the universal ‘are you all right’ question, because Joe was clearly not all right. He was miserable. And Patty had sense enough to not rub it in.

Devin sat beside the captain and behind Joe in the cab to the hotel, chattering away, oblivious to the somber attitude of his teammates. Or maybe he was aware, and he decided it best to stomp out the oppressing silence with his random stories. Regardless, Joe was somewhat grateful.

-----

Joe would have been eager to see Evgeni again, so that he could apologize and finally get some normalcy back into his life. Joe would have been ecstatic to see Evgeni, if it was not for the fact that the next time he saw the goaltender, he was dressed for the afternoon practice with the rest of the team.

It was horrible watching Evgeni play as though nothing had happened. Joe literally felt nauseous when no one saw that anything was wrong. He wanted to scream at all of them, to tell his teammates to open their eyes and think about something other than the game for just a second, so that they could see that their beloved goaltender of nine years was hurting.

But the longer the practice went on, the more Joe began to realize that there was little difference in Evgeni’s play than from earlier in the year. And then he realized that he had been just as blind as everyone else.

-----

He stalked up to Todd after the practice, and he had a pit in his stomach about what the coach would say to his question once it spat out of his mouth. “Who’s in goal, coach?”

Despite the threatening tenor in his tone, Todd merely glanced up from his papers after he finished reading and leaned back in his chair. “Evgeni and I talked it over, and we think it best if he starts between the pipes tonight, Thornton.”

Which was what Joe was dreading.

He would not argue; he knew it was a lost cause. Last time he had a riff with the coach, he ended up looking like an idiot and feeling like a complete asshole. He just grunted, punching the wall with as much force as he could muster on his way out. The picture that was hung next to where his shaking fist landed fell to the floor with a crash, the glass shattering into several gleaming pieces.

Todd just sighed heavily as Joe stood there standing over the results of his uncontrolled temper dumbly. “You’re lucky this isn’t the Pavilion or else you’d be paying for that…” he paused and shuffled the papers strewn about the desk. “You have to trust your friend that what he’s doing is best for him, Joe.”

He cringed at the sound of his name. The coach had muttered it in such a way that saying there was disappointment in his voice would be an understatement. Despite his efforts, Joe left the office feeling like an asshole once again.

-----

The Coyotes scored the first goal twenty-eight seconds in. Joe felt the twinge of uncertainty as he watched Evgeni heave himself up from the ice and swat the puck from out of the goal mouth with his stick. Glancing around, Joe spotted the coach on the other end of the bench, and craned his neck higher to capture the man’s line of sight.

Their eyes linked, but Todd shook his head, patting Jonathan on the shoulder to get the next line on at the same time.

The Coyotes scored again two minutes and forty-five seconds later. Joe looked towards the coach with pleading eyes. He jumped a little when he noticed that the man was standing directly behind him. Leaning over Joe’s shoulder, the coach coughed discreetly, and Joe’s ears perked when a hand tapped him lightly on the arm.

“We’ll take him out next goal, Thornton.” His voice was as stern as always, and left little to be argued. But for once Joe completely agreed. He had agreed with that ever since Todd told him that Evgeni was starting in goal. He glanced back, the salt and peppered hair a blur in his vision, and nodded firmly, the sharp retort held back on his tongue.

Pavs scored on a precise wrist shot, beating Mikael Tellqvist stick side after a scramble in front of the Coyote net a minute later.

Soon after, Rob came in from the point to take Marcel’s hard pass from behind the net, slapping it over Tellqvist’s left shoulder and into the back of the net.

The game was tied two-two and Joe waited anxiously for the next goal for either team. Truth be told, Joe silently wished for the Coyotes to score, just so that Evgeni would get off the ice and have time to think clearly. He did not care if his team lost if it meant Evgeni would stop playing in the condition he was in. Joe just hoped that Jeremy never found out that he was thinking this.

Joe was skating on the ice when he realized that he had compared Evgeni to hockey. And for the first time in his life, hockey lost. He jerked with surprise when he came to this revelation and was called for a hooking penalty eight minutes into the first period.

The game winner came in the middle of the last period. Joe was not so sure if he was as happy as usually was, considering it was a Shark who got it. Pavs scored his second one of the night, actually. The Sharks won three-two, and Evgeni never gave up the third goal, which would have sidelined him, much to Joe’s frustration.

-----

After the game Joe ran on the toes of his skates down the hall, for Evgeni bolted as fast as he could with all of his equipment on the second the third period ended. And what was even more irritating was the halting hand that McLellan had shoved into his chest for a good forty seconds before Joe was allowed to leave the bench.

He got to the locker room, eager to see any flash of dirty blond hair. He was not sure if he was going to hug the man or reprimand him for his foolish stunts, but either way he had to find him first. Joe ran his hand through his hair exasperatedly, or wanted to rather, but he smacked someone in the shoulder before his fingers could even reach the hairline of his scalp.

Devin turned around and raised an eyebrow, his hands fisting the hem of his jersey, the fingers visibly twitching at the surprised urge to rip the heavy, sweaty material off his body. “I’d prefer you calling my name next time, but whatever. What’s up?”

“Ah… oh, sorry Dev.” Joe glanced around the room impatiently. “Have you, ah, seen Evgeni anywhere?” He looked back to the young man sitting on the bench, and crossed his arms to still his jittery fingers.

Devin snorted, rolling his dark brown eyes at the same time. “As if you could miss him in his huge-ass uniform.” A sharp glare from Joe stopped the sophomore’s jokes short. “He was heading for the showers by the time I got in here. Like seriously. He got his equipment off fast, man. Like he had somewhere to be or something.”

Joe was already taking quick strides towards the showers by the time Devin finished his poking fun. He grumbled a reluctant ‘thanks’ over his shoulder, but he wished he could have taken it back when he heard Devin get the last, unnecessary word in.

“I’m not sure if I believe that you two didn’t get some yesterday, Jumbo. Looks like you got Nabby hooked; he can’t get even outta here fast enough!”

He whooped loudly at the thought, earning him some amused glances from the rest of the locker room. Patrick looked to Joe with a horrified expression, his eyes bright and asking for explanation. Joe felt worse than if he had just kicked a puppy; Patty looked somber enough, he did not need to disappoint the man by whoring around on road trips. Besides, that was Devin’s job. A curt shake of his head seemed to satisfy the captain, as he then sighed heavily with relief and continued unlacing his skates.

Joe hurried down the hall, choosing to ignore the hushed questions aimed at Devin after his… wonderful outburst.

His fingers barely curled around the shower room door handle before it was wrenched open from the other side. Evgeni stood in the open doorway, the fleeting surprised expression he had quickly dispersed, and a dark glare took its place.

Steam ghosted around Evgeni, the water vapor glimmering on his strong pectoral muscles, still quivering from the after effects of the game. The exposed skin of his chest was hurriedly covered with a second towel thrown over the pale shoulders.

Joe bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from commenting on the rainbow smattering of colorful bruises marking his neck, shoulders, and hips, not quite hidden by the extra towel.

He hesitated lifting his arms, but he eventually held them out stiffly, a forced grin plastered on his face. Words had escaped him, and they left him feeling unsure of what to do. But asking for a hug from Evgeni after he stepped out of the shower was probably not the smartest thing to do.

Joe knew that he was not going to have an armful of Evgeni, accepting him back with a smile, but he was not expecting a sneer and a hard shove to his chest either. That was exactly what he got.

Stumbling back into the wall across from the open door, Joe stared with wide eyes as Evgeni pivoted on his heel and marched down the empty hallway, without a single glance over his shoulder.

-----

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Joe sighed heavily. “… No, ’course not.”

“Then you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s… between me and him, Patty.”

The captain huffed and ran his hand through his short hair, slumping back against the locker room wall. “I picked up that much, thanks.”

The captain and his first alternate sat side by side in the locker room of the HP Pavilion, mediating quietly before the match up between the Leafs and the return of Sharks’ previous coach. Joe checked the clock just above the exit door, groaning inwardly to himself at how slowly the last two minutes before they could step onto the ice were ticking by.

“Hmm…? Oh right… sorry.” Joe shrugged off Patrick’s words. He did not want to talk about what happened. Not in the locker room where everyone could hear, not with Patrick, who would be horrified if Joe told him what had happened after he had called crying and then never returned to the hotel with their starting goaltender.

He felt a heavy hand place itself on his shoulder and the captain’s soft voice fluttered through the air, a timid waver the tiniest bit discernable in it. “S’alright. Maybe… you know… I could—” Patrick continued talking, but Joe caught none of it. He had seen Evgeni’s glare directed at him when he had looked over in the goaltender’s direction and nothing else got through to him.

That furious glare had shook him violently, and he hung his head in shame, staring at his white knuckled fists in his lap before Todd told them it was time to leave. Patrick was talking to him the entire time.

-----

Joe felt a sliver better than he did when he stepped back into the familiar locker room after the game. The Sharks had won five-two, and the gloating rights between former coach and team belonged to them. He had to admit that the feeling was nice.

The thrill of the win was short-lived, however, as Joe caught a glimpse of two men arguing in the hallway and chanced a look. Evgeni was there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over the thin undershirt covering his chest, a scowl etched deeply on his flushed face. Patrick was standing across from him, he waved his arms animatedly and he could not get the words out fast enough, every sentence flying out of his mouth in fear that Evgeni would leave if he did not say what he wanted to hear.

Blanching in dismay, Joe wasted no time before Patrick could make more of a knotted mess, a knot that Joe was having trouble with straightening out already. He just hoped that the captain had not inadvertently tangled up everything even further.

Joe approached cautiously, his eyes skirting between the two men. Evgeni turned, a heated look smoldering in his grey orbs. What he had said next crushed Joe’s hope of Patrick’s unexpected intervention remaining harmless. “Ghlad you found someone to fhight for you, Thornton.” He spat the name as if it were poison, and shouldered his way past his teammates towards the bustling room.

Gaping at the man’s retreating back with his mouth wide open in disbelief, Joe managed to shake himself from his stupor and rounded on Patrick with a glare nearly as powerful as Evgeni’s had been. “What did you do?!”

The shorter man worried his bottom lip, his eyes locked on the back of the goaltender as well before Joe stood menacingly over him. “I-I… I don’t know what happened!” He grimaced and avoided Joe’s hurt look. “I asked you if I should tell him yer sorry, and you said yes!”

Both were quiet after Patrick scrambled to get the words out. Joe felt like slapping his forehead into his palm.

The captain swallowed nervously. “Y-you didn’t hear me ask that before the game, did ya?”

His brow had found a spot into the flat of his hand, and he was shaking his head slowly from its bent position.

-----

Many times Joe had found himself alone with Evgeni, and just as many times, Evgeni had turned him down. He had not spoken a single word since the unfortunate encounter with Patrick, and Joe would have killed to hear the man say something again, even if it was another insult. Anything in that unique accent of his would have been a relief.

He could do nothing except keep a close eye on the man, for talking seemed to be out of the question, at least on Evgeni’s part. It was strange watching him from afar.

After the Toronto game, it was single-handedly Evgeni’s play that had earned the Sharks a win against the Blue Jackets. He had literally stolen the puck off the stick of the two on zero rush, no thanks to his teammates. He had earned the first star of the night, but Todd acknowledged that he was rightfully the second and third star as well.

The next game against the Oilers, Evgeni played downright horrible. The one shot of the first period by Edmonton was the first goal of the game. And out of their total seventeen shots on goal, three of them went in.

Evgeni fought off the puck to earn a shutout against the Ducks a couple days later.

And then let in five to squeak by the Blues with a win.

The inconsistency troubled Joe, almost as much as how quiet he realized his apartment was when he had no one to talk with, play video games with, or watch stupid movies with. His empty apartment made him feel so alone, it was as though it missed Evgeni there too. Thankfully, Joe knew he could get away from the oppressing silence with the upcoming roadtrip. There at least Devin’s constant chatter would keep the quiet at bay.

-----

Joe might have preferred the silence to the roadtrip once he thought about it. Beating the Kings the first day should have been simple enough, but taking it all the way to a shootout was never favorable. The Sharks won, but just barely.

The same could not be said about the next two matches.

Columbus got their revenge when they won with a well placed puck in overtime to win the game two-one.

Joe had given up on trying to get Evgeni to talk with him for the time being. He simply did not want to deal with the ever constant rejection for a while. Not wallowing in the fresh memories of a harsh glare from Evgeni gave Joe time to think. But the topic remained relatively the same.

He thought about them. He thought about how pleasurable it had been and he thought about how holding another man as he slept felt so much sturdier than holding Tabea’s skinny body in his arms. He thought about if he had the choice of taking what they did together back.

And he came to the conclusion that he would have done the same thing.

It was not the sex that pushed Evgeni away, it was what happened afterwards. That is what Joe would have taken back, not the night they spent together.

-----

Then the Sharks were shutout by the Red Wings six-zero. There were no excuses for how anyone played. Joe feared what Todd would say to them as their dragged themselves into the locker room, but to see the coach quiet as he shook his head shamefully was even more painful.

Looking up from staring miserably at his shaking fists, Joe saw Evgeni. He was surprised to see the man gazing back. No anger was held in his eyes, no suppressed fury, no radiation of hate. When their eyes locked, Evgeni just looked tired.

-----

Joe checked his watch as he sat by himself in his car. He was a couple of minutes early, but that was all right. Patrick had invited him for drinks on the plane home from Detroit yesterday, and desperate for any type of relief from the quiet, Joe eagerly accepted. Now he was in the parking lot, walking towards the bar’s double door entrance, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets to ward off the impending cold.

He pushed the door open with his hip, and stepped off to the side to leave the entranceway unblocked. He looked about the large room, pulling his hands from his pockets and puffing warm air on them to get some feeling back into his fingers. Finally, Joe spotted Patrick in the corner of the room in a booth.

He tipped his head back in a silent hello, and smiled when his gesture was returned. Maneuvering his way through the mob of people, the hairs at the back of his neck began to prickle. Brow furrowing, Joe shrugged of the strange feeling. He took one more step to the right and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

Evgeni was sitting opposite Patrick, a glass of cognac swirling gently in his hand. Turning around, Evgeni’s eyes widened in surprise, and he dropped his alcohol to the table with a clatter. It wobbled uneasily, but remained upright. Joe supposed that it was safe to assume that Evgeni knew no more about Patrick’s meeting than he himself did from the reaction he got. Wonderful.

These ‘plans’ that the captain had come up with were starting to irk Joe’s last nerve. The next time Patrick was talking, Joe reminded himself to listen to every last word he said.

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To be continued
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You should review to see if they make it better faster (it’s already written). Obvious subliminal message is obvious.