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danopdf · 10 months ago

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The Cutting Edge [Joe Liebgott/David Webster] - chapter 2

chapter 2 - toe-pick

pairing: joseph liebgott x david webster, [hockey player x figure skater au]

The Cutting Edge (1992 film) Rewrite

word count: 3574

summary: David's coaches introduce him to his new partner, turns out, they have their work cut out for them.

warnings: swearing, mild injury nothing graphic at all, some angst

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a/n: chapter 2 is here! I have been working on this and a BoB x MotA crossover so hopefully that should be out soon! I hope the tag list works and please lmk if it doesn't, or if you'd like to be tagged! <3

Enjoy!! :D

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Phillidealpha - 1991

“Alright, I’ll see you guys on Monday.” Joe waved, making his way towards the awaiting beat-up pickup truck. A chorus of “Bye Joe”’s and “See ya man.”’s following behind him.

Joe tossed his raggedy hockey back into the back bed of the truck and hopped in the passenger side, placing his cooler lunch box at his feet, and his hard hat on his lap.

“So, how was school today?” George asked. Joe didn’t have to look over to see the shit-eating grin on the dirty-blond face.

“It was fine mom, can you just drive, there’s a game across town tonight I gotta get ready for,” Joe said impatiently. George threw the truck into drive and began to pull out of the steelworks parking lot.

It was silent on the drive back to the bar George and his partner Joe Toye owned together just the sound of the radio playing some new rock hit softly in the background, as the truck pulled into the parking lot of ‘Easy Company’ the fair sized bar, sitting just off a popular backroad near the city was frequented mostly by the nearby factory workers, and people who come to watch the hockey games on Friday and Saturday nights. The bar itself was in a mild state of disrepair but well-loved by both the locals and the bar workers alike, it may have been slightly run-down but for Toye and George it was a labour of love, practically their second child after that old dog they had adopted together.

Joe hopped out of the truck the second it had stopped, rushing around to the backbed to grab his bag, hauling it over his shoulder. Practically running into the bar, not bothering to hold the door for George, who nearly got clipped by it.

“Joe hey, listen, Gene called in. He got a shift at the hospital so we need you to cover tonight.” Toye greeted from behind the counter, hauling the glass rack full of beer mugs up onto the freshly washed counter.

“Can’t. Got a game tonight- Hey Muck, make me a sandwich! Any mail for me?” Joe yelled into the kitchen.

“Joe, it’s a Friday night, we need you here, and Muck! Don’t make him that sandwich he’s not going anywhere, he can make it himself!” Toye hollered through the small window separating the bar from the kitchen in the back. Skip hadn’t moved from his place on the counter too enthralled with whatever book he was reading, just sticking his thumb in the air to acknowledge the command Toye gave him.

“I can’t Toye, the guys need me out there.”

“And we need you here! Babe’s still coming in, and Donny said he could come in from 9 ‘till close, but we need someone to do the in-between.” Toye slammed the mug he was holding down onto the counter, pointing at Joe, clean bar towel in hand, “Joe, when you moved here 2 years ago we said that as long as you helped us when we needed, we would shuttle your ass to any hockey game you wanted. Now is the time for you to nut up and help us.”

Joe scoffed, pulling his hand back from the back door he was about to walk through.

“Why can’t you call Bill, see if he’ll pick it up? He’s usually hanging around here with you guys anyways, might as well put him to work.” He sneered, pushing his way through the back door, to the staff entrance, his bettered hockey sticks leaning against the wall next to the array of lockers, each with a staff member's name on it, some with stickers adorning the outside (like his own, covered in hockey team logos), or photos of family and friends (like Babe’ was, covered in photos of him and Gene).

“Joe,” George pushed through the door, hot on his heels, “Come on we never ask you to come in on Fridays unless we need you. And we need you tonight, this place is gonna be packed-”

“I can’t George you know I can’t. We’re playing our rivals tonight and I can’t leave the boys hanging-”

“So you’re gonna leave us hanging?” George pointed him with a glare.

Joe sighed, leaning his head against the cool metal of his locker.

“George. I heard from one of the guys that there may be a scout coming to the game tonight. They’re down a few bench-men on the US team for the next winter games, and they wanna see if I still have it.”

“Did they say that?”

Joe turned his head to face George, “Did they say what?”

“Did they say that they were coming to look at you?”

He closed his eyes, “No. They’re coming to look at the new kid that’s been playing with us-”

“Shit Joe I’m sor-”

Joe shot up straight, “But George, if I can just show them how far I’ve come,”

“Joe don’t-”

“Then maybe they’ll let me even just be a benchwarmer for practice, which is the first step to getting back on a team. A proper team.”

“Joe! You got a letter from the Flyers,” Joe’s eyes lit up with hope, his heart began beating,

Oh my god, they saw it. They’re gonna put me on the team! This is the start of a new career, a brand new start for Joe Lieb-

“They saw your tape and they don’t think you’re ready yet.” George ripped the bandaid off in one fell swoop, his head turned downwards to avoid the sagging gaze of Joe.

He froze at the news, brain trying to process his future once again falling through his fingers like sand. Joe sagged, fingers going numb, his sticks slipping through his grasp.

“Oh.”

George dragged Joe into a hug, squeezing him tightly. His fingers gripping Joe’s jacket when he didn’t hug him back, he just stood there looking dead over George’s shoulder, “Well…there goes that I guess.” He whispered to himself.

George pulled back from Joe, a sad smile on his face, “But hey listen, on the bright side of things, a man came in today looking for you. By name.” Joe perked up at that, “Said he was looking for a man that could skate, and that there’s a paycheck involved, a pretty hefty one apparently.” Joe turned back to his locker, put his sticks back, and began to change out of his work clothes.

“That’s great George, but if it’s not hockey, I’m not interested.” He shrugged off his jacket, quickly wiping his eyes as he did so, hoping George didn’t notice.

“Joe buddy,” George leaned against the side of Joe’s locker, “we can’t make you do something you don’t wanna do. But we also can’t stand by and watch you put yourself through the wringer every time a letter comes in with your name on it, hoping that this time it’s something good.”

Joe paused halfway through slipping on his clean jacket, “If this is your way to ask me to work for you full time you know the answers gonna be no, right?” he chuckled wetly, George laughed with him.

“I know buddy. That guy was hoping that you’d go by tonight and see what he’s offering…I’m sure I can convince the owners to give you the night off for this, a real job offer.”

Joe huffed, fixed his dark hair in the mirror he had pasted to the side of his locker door, wiped his cheeks, and turned back to his friend, “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

David locked eyes with himself in the wall of mirrors as he skated along the edge of the rink. Watching his posture, he lifted his back leg and spread his arms out, one in front and one behind his perfectly straight torso.

David lowered his leg and went into a gentle spin, twirling thrice before coming to a stop.

“Looking good David!” The brunet coach hollered from the side of the rink. David pushed forward skating close enough to the mirrors that he could look at himself properly, he began to fix the curls of his hair and wipe at his cheeks, clearing his face of any sweat that had beaded there with the cuff of his white knitted sweater.

“-last one only lasted just over a month,” The door to the private rink swung open revealing David’s second coach. The redhead guided an unknown man through the doors and walked over to where the first was standing at the side. He pushed off his right foot and hustled his way over to the small group forming on the sideline.

“and before that it was three weeks-” David hockey stopped right in front of the new man, spraying small shards of ice onto his jeans.

“Two and a half weeks actually.” He looked the black-haired man up and down, taking in the slim figure in a worn flannel + jacket combo, jeans, and a backward cap, “He couldn’t keep up.” David sneered at the new man.

“Joe Liebgott, this is my co-coach Lewis Nixon. And this,” He gestured grandly to David, “is your skating partner David Webster.” David’s jaw dropped.

“Him?” David pointed out, “Are we picking homeless people up off the streets now for me to skate with? He looks like he’s never even seen a pair of skates before!” He complained to Winters.

“David, Joe is a hockey player, he’s got the skating prowess and physical strength that we’re looking for.” The redhead explained matter-of-factly.

“A hockey player!?” David screeched, “You’re kidding, Nix’ please tell me he’s kidding!” He turned towards his other coach, who stood from his bent-over position on the rail.

“David we know this isn’t ideal, but he’s got what we’re looking for and he’s an ex-Olympian so he knows his way around a competition. So, you can either suck it up and figure out how to work with him like an adult or you can keep skating here, alone in despair. It’s up to you David.” Nixon crossed his arms, a small smirk already on his face, knowing he had David, who let out a grumble and leaned down to tighten his pristine skates.

“Fine then,” he straightened up, flipping his curls back, “but if he can’t keep up he’s gone.” Joe chucked at that.

“Don't worry your pretty little head princess, I can keep up.” He stepped out onto the ice in his dirty sneakers, a hockey bag on his shoulder.

“David, this is Joe, Joe Liebgott, please play nice.” Winters introduced him, Joe sticking his hand out to David, who skated back slightly at the sight of his raised hand, “What, don’t want to shake my hand? They may be a little rough, but I’ve never had any complaints before.” He winked.

“Real nice. What is this, are you trying to ruin what career I have left?” David asked, offended.

“Hey, hey, hey wait a second, who's checking out who here?” Joe took his hand back, using it instead to adjust the strap on his shoulder.

“Listen, I don’t know how many slap shots you’ve taken to the brain but this is your audition and I can assure you it’s over. I’m not skating with this buffoon.” Joe looked startled at the mention of ‘slapshots to the brain’, something only Nixon had noticed

“Listen, I’m not a figure skater, I’m a hockey player, alright?” He defended.

“Then why are you here?” David skated right up in Joe’s face, staring him in the eyes,

He’s got nice eyes. Shut up, David. “Get him out of my building.” He turned towards Dick and Lewis, who were watching in both exhaustion and amusement respectively. Lewis chuckled at the duo, Dick just sighed, and Lewis reached over to pat his partner on the shoulder.

“Temperamental, they told me that’s what you were and they’re right. There’s another word for that you know!” Joe yelled.

“Who told you that?” David demanded.

“It’s no secret honey, everybody knows it!” Joe turned back to Lewis and Dick, stepping off the ice onto the rubber sideline, “Listen, sirs, I’m real’ sorry, but I wouldn’t wish this on my goddamn worst enemy alright?” Joe patted Nixon on the shoulder and began to make his way out the door he and Dick had walked through not even 10 minutes ago, David skating in the opposite direction of the door.

Dick put a hand on Joe’s shoulder, giving Lewis a look.

“Alright, both of you stop it.” Lewis hollered, the slight echo in the at-home area causing his voice to echo, “David, you’re a duo skater. Duo means two.” He held up two fingers at that, “And you haven’t been able to keep a partner for more than a month, and even then all you did is complain. You’re skating nowhere but in circles, hoping that a partner will just come along and fall into your lap, which they won’t if you keep your shitty attitude up.” David looked down, suddenly finding digging a small ditch with his toepick much more interesting than looking Lewis in the eyes. Joe snickered at the sight of David looking like a kicked puppy, “and you,” Lewis turned to Joe now, who shut up immediately at the parental tone Nixon took with him, “you’re not going anywhere alright? You’re excited every time you get on the ice at your beer league games, or get the chance to skate on the lake, and here we are giving you another chance at an Olympic medal and you're just going to walk away from it? No. You’re going to sit down and lace up because we’re the only people who are looking at you for a skating career.” Lewis finished, chest heaving and hands on his hips. Dick looked down, bringing a hand up to his face, but not in shame like Joe and David were, but to cover the silent laughter he was trying to cover up, at the sight of his partner parenting the two grown men. “So. Joe you’re going to drop your bag, put on the skates Dick gave you and you’re going to get on that ice.” Joe dropped his bag right where he stood with a huff, “And David you’re going to not be an asshole for 10 minutes and we’re going to run through the basics. Understood?” Nix’ raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Understood.”

“Yeah sure Nix’.” Joe and David grumbled respectively. Realizing that they were both beaten and now stuck with each other.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“Alright good, now Joe your left hand goes on his waist, and your right comes up to hold his right one outstretched. Get a little closer Joe, don’t worry David won’t bite.” Dick’s hands placed Joe’ where they needed to rest on David’s body, and gently pushed Joe closer so his chest was pressed against the left side of David's back. One of his hands coming up to hold onto his slim waist, the other sliding along David's arm to grab a hold of his hand, “Perfect Joe. Now on my count you’re going to push off your left foot, and go for a lap around the ice, sounds good?” the redhead asked.

Joe nodded his head, hair bouncing off his wrinkled forehead, brows knit in focus.

“Sounds great Winters, let’s just get this over with.” David forced out.

“Wait, wait, hold on a second.” Joe interrupted, “What is this thing on the front of my skate?” He lifted his left foot slightly, showing off the rigged point of the blade.

“That’s the toepick Joe. I wouldn’t let it get in your way.” David teased, unamused at the stupid question Joe had asked.

He leaned down close to David's ear, whispering “I don’t let anything get in my way sweetheart.” David straightened up against Joe’s chest, his neck tingling from where his breath fanned.

“Ok you two, let’s go on, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4!” On the four David and Joe pushed off their left feet in long strides, putting pressure on their left feet to make a graceful turn at the top of the ice, “Great! That looks great you two!” Dick called out from his place on the ice, Lewis in his skates on the side where he was earlier, clapping at the sight of the two skating in unison.

After the graceful turn at the top of the rink, they got to the straight away. David picked up his pace, taking quicker, shorter strides, slowly leaving Joe behind, struggling to catch up to the brunet's pace while keeping a hold of his waist and hand.

“Hey buddy, slow down man we’re supposed to be keeping pace!” Joe huffed, legs moving twice as fast to try and catch up to the brunet's quick strides.

“If you want us to keep pace then keep up!” David turned his head to Joe, taking a few more strides, and effectively leaving Joe behind enough that his grip on David’s waist and hand had him stretching forwards, fingertips barely hanging on, he began to stumble forwards, toepicks catching on the ice ahead of him, causing Joe to go tumbling forwards and crashing onto the ice with a loud SMACK!

“Jesus Christ David! Could you try not to kill the guy on his first day!” Lewis cried out. Dick rushed over to help Joe back on his feet, asking if he’s okay, as Joe brushed bits of ice off his shirt.

“I’m alright, I’m alright. He hits softer than my younger sister, and a tumble on the ice ain’t nothin’ new to me.” Joe turned to David, who was glaring at him from his place at Lewis’ side where he was getting berated by the black-haired man, giving David a smile at the sight of his misfortune.

Dick gave Joe one more once over, “David get over here!” He hollered. David skated over, using the toepick at the top of his skate to stop himself once he got close enough, “David apologize to Joe.”

“What!”

“Huh?”

Dick looked at David expectantly, hands on the hips of his slim black skate pants, “You heard me, apologise to Joe.” David looked at him appalled, whilst Joe had a shit-eating grin on his face at him getting chastised by the ginger.

“Joe,” David gritted out, “I’m sorry that you couldn’t keep up with m- OW!” Winters slapped David's arm giving him a glare, “Joe, I’m sorry, that I on purpose and with malicious intent went faster than I knew you could keep up with so that you would fall.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding Joe's smug face.

“Good, thank you, David. Let’s head back to one and go again.”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Joe picked his head up at the sound of the beat-up old truck pulling up into the gated driveway of the mansion.

“Going my way?” George peaked his head out the passenger's window.

“If you’re heading to your mom's house then yeah.” Joe joked, standing from his place on the front steps of the large house, he jogged up to the passenger's side, tossing his hockey bag in the backseat and slamming the door.

“Shut up Joe, you look like you’re waiting for your divorced dad to pick you up.” Joe barked out a laugh as he slid on his seatbelt. George shifted out of park and booted out of the fancy driveway.

“So, how was it? You found a new calling in the world of figure skating?” George joked. Joe looked out the window, watching the trees and occasional lit-up mansion pass by his window.

“Yeah, I think so…”

“You don’t sound so sure of that, what’s up?” Joe sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair.

“He’s an asshole, is the issue. Never had to work a day in his life, has been living off of daddy’s money- did you know the rink is attached to the house? It’s not even in the backyard, it's in its own wing of the house!” Joe had started waving his arms around the cabin of the truck at this point, George trying his best to avoid getting smacked by the flailing limbs whilst trying to drive, “and he spent the whole time trying to get rid of me!” Joe took a heaving breath, sitting back properly in his seat, “but I mean other than that, yeah it was great. Dad’s a bit of a wack-a-doodle but he’s the one paying me, so him I can deal with.”

George looked over at him before quickly turning his eyes back to the road, “Well that’s not so bad I suppose. What about the coaches? Are they as big of assholes as your new partner is?” Joe placed his feet up on the dash, which George immediately batted off, “Get your feet off the dash you fucking hooligan.”

Joe crossed his legs at the ankles instead, “Yeah they’re alright, they’re some ex-figure skaters that are married on the side or something, I don’t know man. Talented though that’s for sure, they would demonstrate some of the moves they wanted us to do and it was impressive. I like ‘em.” Joe smiled to himself, finding picking the dirt from under his nails more interesting than looking at the smile George was giving him.

“So same bad time, same bad channel tomorrow then?”

“Yup, tomorrow and, if the paychecks hopefully keep rolling in the way they are now, every day after that.”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

taglist: @hanniewinnix @ewipandora@grumpy-liebgott

#joe liebgott #joe liebgott x david webster #david webster #webgott #band of brothers #dano speaks #richard winters #lewis nixon #winnix #the cutting edge #band of brothers fanfic

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