#and yes the best “dress” bottom that i could find were lumpy pants

[wandering-aloneo-o]

my contribution to goncharov (1973)

a lego mini figure based off katya

[phykios]

volcano kiss scene but make it medieval, for @perseannabeth 💙 note that this is little more than a fancy rewrite, but... marble king verse is too good to be done with completely

***🌊***🌊***🌊***

June, 1446

As Percy led his little band of adventurers through the tunnels of the Labyrinth, himself, his questing partner Ana Zabeta, his childhood companion Aegidius, and his half-brother, the cyclops Tison, following a marvelously clever creation of the god of fire, he allowed himself, for a brief moment, to feel a small sense of pride. They had finally located a deity who not only did not appear to have any negative designs on their characters, but had also promised them his help--after they had performed him a small favor, of course. 

Hephaestus had fashioned for them a little spider made of metal, who moved about as though it had a beating heart, darting this way and that, nearly invisible, were it not for their torchlight flickering off its shiny, shiny legs. Though he would never speak it aloud, Percy felt a particular kind of pride on Annabeth’s behalf, as she followed the eight-legged creature with neither complaint nor fear. He knew full well just how totally she detested the beasts, her eternal and forsworn enemies, just as their mother had been an enemy of Athena. 

They rounded a corner, moving from a passageway lined with a strange, shiny substance which felt cool to the touch to one of crudely-cut stone, when he spotted a tunnel off to the side, dug from raw earth, wrapped in thick roots which pried their way through the holes in the stones. Aegidius had noticed it as well, slowing his pace until he stopped entirely in front of the dark, gaping maw in the wall. “Aegidius,” Percy said, stopping as well. “What is it?”

It was as if he had not heard him. The satyr merely gazed into the black tunnel, his curly hair rustling in an impossible breeze.

“We cannot delay!” said Annabeth. “We must keep moving!”

“This is the way,” Aegidius muttered, hushed and reverent. “It is here.”

He couldn’t possibly mean… “The way to Pan?”

But Aegidius ignored him, turning instead to Tison, the creature whose very nature often rendered him speechless with fear. “Do you not smell it, too?”

“Yes,” said Tison. “Earth. The forest.”

Before them, the spider skittered further down the stone corridor. If they delayed any further, the trail would be lost to them. 

“Once we have finished our errand for Hephaestus,” said Annabeth, “then we can return for Pan, I swear it.”

“The tunnel will have gone by then,” said Aegidius, with a confidence Percy had rarely seen before. “A door such as this will not remain open for long--and I must enter it.”

“But,” she said, desperate, “the forges!”

He looked at her sadly, but firmly. “I cannot go with you this time, Annabeth.”

Percy had forgotten--Aegidius was not only his companion. He had been Annabeth’s as well. He had been responsible for seeing her safely over the magical boundary in Sigeion. But the spider was nearly out of sight, and they could not tarry any longer before the gateway to the god. “We will continue to the forges,” he decided. “Aegidius, you go on to seek Pan.”

“No!” she gasped. “It is far too dangerous. If we part ways, we might never find each other again! And I cannot let you go alone.”

It was then that Tison, gentle creature he was, put his hand on Aegidius’ shoulder. As much fear as satyrs held for cyclops, Tison, for some odd reason, held just as much, if not more, for the satyrs. They had made an amusing pair at times, two of the sweetest, kindest people Percy had ever known, cowering in fear at the other. But Tison showed no fear now. Now, he was brave. “I shall go with him.”

Percy could not believe his ears. “You will?”

He nodded. “The satyr needs help. We shall find the god of the wild--together.”

Aegidius took a deep, steadying breath. “I wish I could see this through to the end with you, but--”

“I understand,” said Percy. The search for Pan was his life’s goal, the final prize in a quest which had taken his father, his father’s father, and so many searchers before him. If he did not succeed on this journey, the Council of Cloven Elders would never give him another chance. “I pray that you are right.”

Shoulders square, suddenly possessed of a confidence Percy had rarely ever seen from him, save for when he deliberated on how keftedes paled in comparison to spanakopita, he grinned. “I know that I am.”

Percy took a heartbeat to gaze on him one last time, imprinting him in his memory--just in case. “Be careful,” he told him. Then, he looked towards Tison, and opened his arms to his half-brother, who went into them willingly, squeezing Percy so strongly his eyes just about burst from his sockets. 

Tison and Aegidius then disappeared into the darkness of the tree roots, lost to the wild. 

“This was a mistake,” said Annabeth, her voice trembling. “We should not have let them go.”

“We will see them again,” Percy replied, attempting to summon Aegidius’ confidence. “Now, come on. The spider will not wait for us any longer.”

“Do not remind me,” she said, shuddering.

Before very long, the tunnel grew warmer, the stone walls red and glowing. The air felt as though they were walking through a giant oven, as though they had been transported into one of the forges beneath the villa for Hephaestus’ children, and he supposed, in a way, that they had. The tunnel sloped down, deeper into the earth, the spider nearly tripping over itself to reach the bottom, Annabeth right behind it.

Percy jogged to catch up. “Annabeth!” he called. “A moment?”

She glanced back at him, but did not cease her quick pace, forcing Percy to match her. “Yes?”

“I have a… question,” he panted, “regarding what Hephaestus… said, about your mother.” 

“She swore never to marry,” Annabeth said, easily. Curses, Annabeth did not appear to be even remotely out of breath. He felt like such a fool compared to her, always. “She is one of the maiden goddesses, alongside Artemis and Hestia.”

Percy frowned. He had not recalled that detail about the war goddess--though, he was rather infamous for nodding off during lessons. Perhaps he had simply slept through that particular lesson. “But, if she is a maiden goddess, then--”

“How is it she came to have demigod children?”

Blushing, he nodded. 

Now, this was not at all appropriate conversation, he knew. Young boys and girls were not meant to discuss such things with each other--not yet anyway. But Percy was nearly a man, and besides, he had spent enough time with Carlos and the older boys at the agoge to pick up a few pieces of knowledge here or there. Hopefully, Annabeth would think the flush on his cheeks was due to the heat of the cavern. 

“Do you know how Athena was born?” she asked him. 

“She was born from… the head of Zeus? In armor?”

“Precisely. She was literally born from his thoughts--and thus, her children are born the same way. When Athena falls in love with a mortal partner, it is a purely intellectual affair, just as it was with Odysseus in the epic tales. Our mother says that it is the truest kind of love.”

“So,” said Percy, frowning. “Your father and Athena… you were not--”

“I was born from their minds,” she interrupted, quickly. “Sprung from the divine thoughts of my mother and the mortal ingenuity of my father. Her children are gifts, blessings on the mortals she favors.”

“But--”

She turned to him, exasperated. “Percy, the spider has nearly vanished. Do you really wish for me to explain the precise details of my birth?”

Flushing even harder, he snapped his jaw shut.

Victorious again, she smirked. “I thought not.”

Running ahead to catch their guide, Percy followed, very neatly put in his place, and not certain he would ever be able to look at his friend the same way ever again. Some things, he decided, were perhaps better left as mysteries.

After another few minutes or so, they emerged into a cavern, larger than any stadium Percy had ever seen. It felt to be five times the size of the mighty Colosseum. There was no floor, just miles of bubbling lava beneath their feet. Standing on a rock ride which encircled the cavern, Percy saw a complex, overlapping network of metal bridges spanning the width of it, meeting on a huge platform in the center which housed the largest anvil he had ever seen, a block of iron the size of a villa. Dark, strange shapes moved about them, like formless shadows, too far away to discern what manner of creature they might be. 

“We cannot sneak up on them,” said Percy, noting the distinct lack of places to hide with some despair. 

With a slight grimace, Annabeth picked up their metal guide, its form having changed to a small ball, and slipped it into a fold in her dress. “I can. Wait here.”

“Hang on--” But Percy was too late, as Annabeth put on her magical cap, a gift from her mother, and vanished from his sight. 

Percy cursed. He did not dare call after her, not willing to draw attention to her tactics, but nor did he appreciate the idea of her approaching the forge on her own. If those creatures could repel the likes of Hephaestus, what hope did Annabeth have? It was not safe. She was their leader--they could not risk her life. Percy would not risk her life. 

Alas, he could never sit still for very long. Creeping along the outer rim of the lake of molten rock, he darted from stalagmite to stalagmite as best he could, hoping to find a better vantage point. Really, Annabeth should have known better.

The heat was horrendous, heavy and oppressive. Drenched in sweat, and eyes stinging with smoke, he moved along, staying as far from the edge as was physically possible, until he found his way stopped by a large metal box, fitted on wheels. Peering inside, he saw it was full scrapped metal, bits and bobs of broken swords and lumpy shields, piled on top of one another. Nothing he could reasonably use for an extra weapon, or even some kind of defense. Making to squeeze himself around it, he suddenly heard from up ahead a voice, rough and grating, speaking an ancient language which no man alive had heard for a thousand years. 

Monsters, he knew. 

There was no time to run away, no place to hide… except for the box. Leaping inside, covering himself with a dented aspis, he curled his fingers around his father’s sword, that blade Anaklusmos, hissing as the sharp metal of his bed cut between the soft parts of his armor, biting his tongue so no curse could escape. 

With any luck, the monsters would pass him by, and he could continue along unmolested. 

That was when, of course, that the box lurched forward, pushed along by the monsters, carrying Percy along with it. Malaka! Was he about to be tipped into a smelting pot?

All around him, he heard the chatter of terrible beasts. He was not so skilled in the ancient tongue as Annabeth, but even he could recognize a few words here or there, “weapon” and “cyclopes” and “furnace,” and some names as well: Zena, hissed with scorn, Posidaota, spat with bile, and, most chillingly of all, Kronos, spoken with reverence and awe.

Percy blinked against the sudden light as his cover was removed from his person, revealing himself to the monster, who was so taken aback by his presence, that it blinked back at him in return. For a few moments, neither of them moved, so shocked were they by the other’s sudden appearance. Then, springing into action, Percy slashed upwards, dissolving the beast in a cloud of golden smoke. Snatching up another shield and leaping from his bed of spikes, he saw with his preternatural vision a small army of at least twenty monsters, black like dogs, but with sleek, shiny skin, and legs which looked to be more suited for swimming than scrambling around the rocks of Aitne.

With a hearty battle-cry and another wide swipe, he repelled the front row of these creatures, carving himself some space to jump, sprinting for the mouth of the tunnel. The monsters followed after him, baying and growling as a pack of ravenous wolves, and they would have caught him, tearing him to pieces, had they been but a little bit faster. Thinking quickly, at the top of the tunnel, Percy hurled his shield into a column, the rocks crumbling upon impact, burying the monsters and blocking off the path with a great, noisy cave-in. 

He doubted it would keep them trapped for very long. Not only that, he very much doubted that they had been the only monsters in the cavern. Percy had just announced his presence to anyone who might have been listening, destroying their chance for any sort of subtle reconnaissance.

And Annabeth was still out there, somewhere, invisible.

“Annabeth!” He yelled, running towards the platform at the center of the ocean of lava. “Annabe--!”

An invisible hand clamped over his mouth, wrestling him down behind a large, bronze cauldron. “Silence! Do you mean to have us killed?”

Arms flailing, he managed to locate her head, slipping off her cap of invisibility. She shimmered into view as an island emerging from the mist, scowling and covered in ash and grime. “It’s far too late for that,” he said, grimly. “I came upon a group of monsters, and brought the roof crashing down on them.”

Hissing curses, her hands clenched, as though she meant to strangle him, before she visibly managed to control her temper. “You said there were monsters?”

He nodded. “I know not what kind. I had thought they may have been dogs, were it not for their flippered feet and human hands, adorned with claws. They spoke of furnaces and weapons, making arms for the first Titanomachy.”

“Telkhines,” she gasped, eyes wide. “Of course! I should have known. I had wondered when I saw… well, look.” 

Together they peered over the lip of the cauldron. In the center of the platform stood four of these demons, larger than any Percy had seen before, standing at least the size of a fully grown man. Their black, scaly skin glistened in the light of the fire as they labored, sparks flying between mighty hammer strikes on a long piece of glowing, hot metal, hissing to each other in the ancient language. “What are they saying?” he whispered to her. If he could not understand them, Annabeth surely would. 

“They are talking of fusing metals,” she said, frowning. “Other than that, I--I cannot say.”

“Is that bad?”

She stared at him, incredulous. “The telkhines betrayed the gods,” she said, “for practicing dark magics. For their transgressions, Zeus banished them to Tartaros.”

“Alongside Kronos.”

She nodded. “We must return to Hephaestus at once--”

But no sooner had she spoken than a sharp, clawed hand pierced its way through the rubble of Percy’s cave-in, pushing aside the rocks which blocked its path, followed closely by its snout, teeth long and sharp and dripping with saliva. “You must return to the god,” Percy said, moving into a crouch. “Leave me here.”

“What?” she shrieked. “No! I will not leave you!”

At any other time, he would have praised her for her courage, but not now. “You must! Let me distract the monsters, and perhaps the spider can lead you back through the Labyrinth. You are the leader of this quest--you must take the message back to Hephaestus.”

“But you’ll be killed!”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, turning to face her. “As well, there is no other choice.”

She glared at him, her lips pulled back almost in a snarl worthy of one of the monsters. He knew this look of hers well--it was the one she wore whenever she considered hitting him for his foolishness. 

But rather than hit him, she did something which shocked him even more.

She grasped the collar of his tunic, pulled him close, and kissed him. “Be careful, phykios,” she murmured against his lips, breath hot. Then she put on her cap, and vanished. 

Percy couldn’t breathe, and not for the smoke. Had it not been for the lava, the monsters, the weapon, the quest, he would have been quite content to sit there all day, thinking of nothing but the softness of her mouth and the way her eyes sparkled in the firelight, unable to even recall his own name. 

A sea demon screamed, jolting him back into reality. 

The horde of monsters, freed from their prison, charged across the bridge towards him. Percy scrambled up from the ground, running for the middle of the platform, startling the large monsters so thoroughly that they dropped the red-hot blade over which they labored. It was as long as they were tall, curved like a crescent moon, its shape burning into his vision, sending shivers down his spine. 

Unfortunately for Percy, the monsters recovered quickly from their shock. Every which way he turned, his exit was blocked by a small army, surrounding him. Cutting him off. 

Raising Anaklusmos, he prayed that they could not see the blade shaking. 

“Son of Poseidon,” rasped a demon, speaking Percy’s own language now. “We are honored by your visit, fish-blood.” 

He spread his senses, casting about for an escape, but there was none. He was trapped. 

“Will you strike us down, half-blood?” asked another one. “An you try, the rest of us shall tear you to shreds.” Licking its lips, it advanced on him, claws glinting in the glow of the forge. “Perhaps we shall deliver you to your father in pieces--an omen of the horror we shall visit upon him, and all the rest of the twelve, for their betrayal.”

Annabeth would not have allowed herself to be cornered this way, but Percy was no strategist. If the gods favored him at all, they would have seen to Annabeth’s escape, leaving him to his doom. 

Was this to be his doom, he wondered? Trapped in the heart of a volcano, overrun by monsters which would use his bones to pick their teeth? 

The tallest of the demons plunged its hand into the furnace, scooping a handful of molten rock. “Let us see the might of Olympus,” it said, grinning. “Let us see how long it takes him to burn!” And it threw the lava at Percy.

Dropping his sword, he swatted at his clothes which had been set alight, as though he had merely had an unfortunate run-in with the lava trap at the agoge, but it was not nearly enough, the fire engulfing him with each passing second. At first, oddly, it had only felt warm, though it grew hotter and hotter with every heartbeat. 

“Your father’s nature protects you,” one monster sneered. “Makes you hard to burn. But not impossible, fish-blood. Not impossible.”

Later, Percy would struggle to remember the particulars. He would recall only the fire, and the pain. He would not remember how he crumpled to the floor in deepest agony, the sea demons howling in delight at his terror. 

Nor would he remember the voice of the naiad at the farm of the giant Geryon. The water is within me, she had said. 

Between waves of torment, there was a tugging sensation in his gut, calling vainly for water where there was none: not a river, nor a stream, nor even a petrified seashell. Percy called for the sea, the towering waves which could wash away villages, the currents which could destroy ships in a single blow, the endless power of the ocean, and he called for these things inside of himself, letting it loose in one terrible, horrible scream.

Fire and water collided, a typhoon of unearthly power shooting him up from the beating heart of Aitne on wings of superheated steam, peeling his skin away, another piece of flotsam flung from the earth by the force of the blast. Higher and higher he flew, further than Icarus, than Bellerophon, than Zeus himself, so high that the lord of the heavens would not be able to reach him--and then he fell, a shooting star, hurtling towards the sea which would not save him. Not this time.

[justlookfrightened]

NHL!Jack

Jack and Bitty finally got together, in the middle of Jack’s playoffs and Bitty's decision to move to Houston. Now what?

Continuation of NHL!Bitty from Jack's POV. Rating may change in later chapters. Not beta'd, so let me know about errors that need to be corrected! 

Also on AO3   or Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6    Part 7

The first thing Jack was aware of was the pounding.

It wasn’t very near, but not far enough to be outside his condo either.

The next thing he became aware of was that this wasn’t his condo.

The light was all wrong, for one, and there was a crack across the ceiling and the walls were a dingy blue.

The bed was too lumpy and far too narrow -- and far too occupied. The man wedged in next to Jack was curled on his side, his firm, round backside pressed against Jack’s hip.

Jack very much wanted to investigate that, but a voice was added to the pounding.

“Bitty! Yo, Bits!”

Bitty. Eric Bittle, the man currently squirming his way to consciousness, his bottom rubbing delightfully against Jack.

More pounding.

“I know you haven’t gone back to Georgia yet!”

Bitty groaned.

“Shitty,” he said.

“What?” Jack said.

More pounding. More yelling.

“I see that monstrosity you call a truck! Don’t make me climb up and come in through the reading room!”

Now Bitty was up and out of bed. He crossed the floor in two steps and threw the window open.

“Shitty!” Bitty yelled. “Some people are sleeping! Give me a minute. I’ll be right down.”

Bitty slammed the window closed and turned back around. Jack had enjoyed the glimpse of Bitty leaning out the window, dressed in nothing but red form-fitting boxer briefs. The view from the front was equally appealing, but it didn’t sound like Jack was going to have the opportunity to do any more than look.

“I’m sorry,” Bitty said. “That’s my friend Shitty. I texted him last night to let him know I was in town. I didn’t expect him to show up at --” Bitty picked up his phone and looked at it “ -- 10:30 in the morning.”

10:30. Jack was due at the practice facility at noon, and he hadn’t even been home to change.

“Crisse. I have to get going,” Jack said.

“Not without breakfast,” Bitty said. “Please?”

“But your friend. Shitty? Really?”

“Really,” Bitty said. “He might be loud and obnoxious, but there’s no one I trust more. I mean, if we’re going to -- If you wanted to --”

Bitty stopped, biting his lip, not quite looking at Jack.

Jack couldn’t leave him uncertain.

“I meant everything I said last night. Of course I want to,” Jack said, pushing the sheet back and swinging his feet to the floor. “Just, maybe the best way to meet your friends isn’t in my underwear?”

Bitty giggled, and that was a sound Jack could definitely get used to.

“If there’s anyone you could meet in your underwear, it’s Shitty,” Bitty said, tugging a T-shirt over his head and pulling on shorts while he said it. “But if you want to shower, you can use the bathroom in there.”

Bitty opened a door, revealing a small bathroom that had a door at the other end, presumably leading to another bedroom.

“There should be a new toothbrush in the second drawer,” Bitty said. “And the shampoo and stuff is mine, so feel free to use whatever you need. I’ll get Shitty to take me to the Murder Stop ‘n’ Shop to get stuff for breakfast. No food allergies?”

“No,” Jack said. “My nutrition plan --”

“Calls for lots of protein, unrefined carbs and healthy fats,” Bitty said. “I know. That’s why I’m not just making pancakes. We’ll be back in 15 minutes and breakfast will be ready in 45. Does that work for you?”

“Uh, sure,” Jack said.

Bitty might be small, might be a rookie, but he was going to be a force to be reckoned with, Jack thought.

He was still grinning as he stripped off his own boxer briefs and stepped under the shower spray.

****************************************

Music was coming from the kitchen when Jack descended the stairs 15 minutes later, wearing the trousers from his suit and the shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He’d washed with Bitty’s things, and he could smell the fresh citrus scent that clung to his skin and hair. It smelled almost like Bitty, but not quite.

He came around the corner to see Bitty, facing away from him, stirring something in a pan on the stove. Onion, by the aroma, and probably peppers. Bitty was wearing the same shorts he pulled on upstairs -- blue, and barely long enough to cover his underwear. His feet were in sneakers, apparently without socks, and it looked like his legs went on for days in between.

His hips swung a bit to the music as he pulled a slice of pepper -- yes, Jack was right -- from the pan to test it for doneness and asked, “So what are you going to do after graduation? You and Lardo have plans?”

That’s when Jack noticed the man sitting at the table -- sitting in the same chair Jack sat in last night when Bitty came and sat on his lap and kissed him. The man had clearly noticed him -- he was watching him watch Bitty with something like amusement.

Shitty -- this had to be Shitty, with shaggy hair and a droopy mustache and a Wonder Woman crop top -- answered Bitty’s question instead of giving Jack away. “I’d go to the beach for a while to study, but it’s summer, so my whole family will be in and out. I think maybe we’ll take some time to find a new place, far from Harvard, that can be our apartment, and I’ll hole myself up there. The bar exam’s at the end of July, but once I take it, I can start work full-time.”

He paused and looked at Jack, which drew Bitty’s eyes to him as well.

“Morning, Bitty,” Jack said. “It smells great in here.”

To Shitty, he extended a hand and said, “I’m Jack.”

Shitty stood to shake hands and said, “Shitty Knight, former resident of this decrepit house and soon-to-be lawyer working in the areas of employment law, diversity and discrimination and educational opportunity.”

“That sounds like a lot to focus on,” Jack said.

Shitty shrugged. “The organization I hired on with works in all those areas. I’m sure I’ll end up working more in one than the others.”

“Shitty was a junior when I was a freshman,” Bitty said. “He was the first real person I ever came out to.”

“Real person?” Jack asked.

“I used to have an internet vlog,” Bitty said. “I told people there, but it didn’t really count because I didn’t know them and I couldn’t see them. It was more like talking to myself.”

Jack poured himself coffee from the pot, refilling Shitty’s mug for good measure, before sitting down and watching Bitty drop four slices of whole-grain bread in the toaster and pour what looked like mostly egg whites into the pan with the vegetables.

“It’s not very fancy,” Bitty said. “But I know you’re on a schedule.”

Shitty looked at Jack and said, “Should I pretend I don’t know who you are and ask what you do and how you know Bitty, or can we dispense with that?”

“Bitty said he trusted you, so let’s just assume you know who I am,” Jack said.

“Coolio,” Shitty said. “Then I can tell you what a sweet goal that was last night before I ask your intentions.”

Jack stiffened, and Shitty laughed and said, “Not really. Bits here is a grown man, as he never fails to remind me, and makes his own decisions. But you should know that he also has a lot of friends who care deeply about him, and would not take it kindly if his hockey idol screwed with him.”

“Shitty!” Bitty looked mortified.

“Relax, Bits, I didn’t mean it like that,” Shitty said. “You two are welcome to screw each other in as many ways as you like, as long as both of you consent and you’re careful to be safe.”

Bitty apparently decided the best way to deal with his friend was to ignore him.

“I apologize for Shitty,” Bitty said. “He means well, but he really should shut up.”

“Come on, Bits, I’ve known you for going on six years, and this is the first person I’ve been introduced to at the breakfast table,” Shitty said. “This is clearly important to you.”

“It’s not like that,” Bitty protested. “Jack came to talk to me after the game last night, and it got late so he stayed. That’s all.”

“Right,” Shitty said. “Did he sleep in the same bed? Because I happen to know there are four bedrooms up there and no one else is here.”

“It’s fine,” Jack told Bitty. “It’s good your friends care about you. I don’t have any intention of toying with your affection. But hockey idol? Really?”

Bitty was practically scarlet.

“Shitty, bless your heart, and butt out,” he said. “Jack, honey, I’m in this for real, too. But I don’t want to hear any more more about that.”

“Ouch,” Shitty said. “Fine. If the ‘bless your hearts’ are coming out, I’ll shut up now.”

**************************************

Jack was on the road by 11:30, meaning there was no way he’d make it to the training rink at noon. Good thing team lunch was first, followed by a 12:30 p.m. meeting. He wouldn’t be hungry anyway, and there was a little more leeway with being late..

The harder thing to figure out was what to do about his clothes. Walking into lunch in yesterday’s suit would be like trying to sneak into his parents’ house at 7:30 a.m. when was 17. He tried it once; it hadn’t gone well.

He did have a gym bag in the car. He could stop somewhere on the road and switch to workout gear. That would still be unusual for him -- he usually wore a higher class of track pants to team meals. But it wouldn’t scream “I haven’t been home” like wearing his suit.

Maybe he should have been better prepared when he drove to Samwell. He hadn’t even known where Bitty was, for sure. Marty said the boys were at some kind of hockey house at Samwell. How hard could it be to find it?

In the end, not very. He’d stopped at a gas station in the town of Samwell and said he was looking for a house where all the hockey players lived. The cashier gave him a blank look, but another customer who was buying beef jerky and Fiji water interrupted.

“It’s not a hockey house,” he said. “It’s the hockey Haus.”

Somehow it sounded different when he said it.

“Go about a half mile up this street, make a right then a left on Jason Street,” the man continued. “You’ll see it on your left. And hey, tell ‘em Johnson said ‘Fuck the lax bros.’”

Jack followed the directions (except the part about saying “Fuck the lax bros”); he knew the house by the crossed hockey sticks mounted above the porch.

He’d thought he prepared himself. He’d gone over the pros and cons of outing himself to Bitty a hundred times, and Marty agreed that it wouldn’t be too big a risk. Someone who chose to go to Samwell was unlikely to be homophobic, at the very least. And there was something in the way Bitty looked at him … and the way Marty and Pops both seemed to want to encourage this. Jack had been pretty sure he had a chance with Bitty.

But he’d been so focused on that that it never occurred to him to think about what would happen next. Was he just going to tell Bitty he had feelings for him and turn around and drive away?

And what if the morning had gone differently? Jack had been too tired last night for anything more than some lazy, long kisses after they went to bed, but what if Shitty hadn’t been banging on the front door when he woke up? Jack certainly hadn’t come prepared for any kind of sexual encounter. Would Bitty have condoms at least?

Next time, Jack told himself, he’d be better prepared.

He pulled into a BP and bought a Gatorade and protein bar before asking where the bathroom was. When he emerged in form-fitting shorts and Under Armor T-shirt, he made his way to the car quickly, not looking up to see if people were watching.

It wasn’t as easy to avoid attention when he got to the Falcs’ facility. He walked into the dining area, grabbing some chicken fajitas before sitting down so he would have something in front of him.

“Zimmboni, you change before lunch?” Tater said. “Why? We change before workout.”

“Maybe he didn’t have anything else to put on,” Thirdy said.

“Jack always did keep workout clothes in his car,” Marty said.

“Why would he need to change into clothes from his car?” Tater said.

“Jack’s wearing his emergency clothes?” Snowy asked. “I always thought he just had those in case there was a pressing need to exercise.”

“Maybe he had another pressing need,” Marty said.

Jack sat stoic through it all, taking a bit of his fajita and chewing it thoroughly.

Finally, he said, “I think we all have the same need,” he said. “We need to win this next game and get home ice back. You all ready?”

[wwesmutdonedirtcheap]

Take Another Piece of My Heart

Prompt: You and Baron are friends with benefits but you both secretly want to be together. @kiasummers This turned into fluffy smut.

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“What time is your flight?” I stood up, pulling my shirt over my head.

“Eight,” Baron grunted, propping his arm behind his head against the headboard.

“Lucky,” I laughed “Mine’s at six.”

“Shit, and you’re sure as hell not a morning person. I’ve seen you,” he smirked.

I tossed my bundled up sweater at him and he let out a little laugh, before tossing it onto the end of the bed.

I dropped back down beside him. His naked body covered in nothing but a cheap hotel bed sheet. I knew I shouldn’t but I couldn’t stop myself from nuzzling into his side. His arm came up and wrapped around me.

“Five days is a long time,” I sighed, my hand absently petting at his tattooed chest.

“Too fuckin’ long,” he scoffed.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to keep you occupied,” I managed to get out.

I winced waiting for the answer. I knew it shouldn’t matter. My hookups with Baron were all strictly casual. They started with one drunken night and then never stopped. He was my absolute best friend on the entire planet and outside of the bedroom we never treated each other as anything more than friends. Very few people even knew about our dalliances behind closed doors.

“Nah,” he breathed out after a few seconds of silence “I got to much ass kicking to do.”

Baron’s career was growing stronger by the day. He was getting some epic feuds. He had been battling some of the biggest stars on the roster. His demeanor was always something left to be desired but with a massive ego like his, he kept it reigned in pretty well. Only a select few, got to see the more civilized side of him.

“You keep it up, that Intercontinental Title will be around your waist next pay per view,” I breathed lightly against his shoulder.

“Yup,” he shifted to sit up.

I watched as he stood naked, his toned back facing me as he slid on his underwear and swept his hair up off his neck.

“I better let you get some sleep,” he pulled his jeans up on his hips.

I wanted desperately to beg him to stay but we didn’t do that. We never spent the entire night together. It was sort of an unspoken rule in our arrangement.

“Yeah,” I laughed “Four comes really early.”

“See you in a week,” he shrugged on his button up.

“Yeah,” I bit my lip nervously “See ya.”

He leaned down, his lips lightly pressing on the crown of my head for not even a full second. Then he was gone.

I crawled back under the sheet, bringing it to my nose to inhale the scene of his cologne…the scent of him. I wrapped it around myself and drew my knees to my chest.

I had to tell him. I had to tell him I couldn’t do this anymore. It hurt to much. It hurt not being able to hold his hand in public, to kiss him the way I wanted to, to tell him I loved him and him not freak out about it.

Baron Corbin was not the type of guy to fall in love and if those words left my mouth, I knew our hookups would be over. I had clung to them for far too long now. The feel of his hands on my skin, the sound of his shallow breathing as he fucked me into the mattress, the way his eyes lingered on mine as he watched for me to come undone beneath him. It was all to much to bare anymore. This had to end, if for nothing more than my heart and my sanity.

The week ticked by achingly slow. I got a few texts here and there from him. Most of them were goofy gym selfies that he posted on Instagram first. He took a picture of the fresh snow fall in Philadelphia while I was working with the house tours in Los Angeles. He knew how much I loved winter and I had replied with a half dozen eye roll emojis. He replied with his detest of emojis, so I sent him a few more with a smile on my face.

“What’s that smile for?” Naomi pulled me out of my trance.

“Huh?” I laid down my phone and picked up my contour brush.

I was supposed to have her makeup done in twenty minutes and there I was day dreaming.

“Nothing,” I chewed on my bottom lip nervously, as I carved out her amazing cheek bones.

“Come on now girl, you gotta spill. You got a look on your eyes like you’re in love or somethin’.”

“What?” I laughed, “I do not!”

“Girl, it’s been on your face all week,” Carmella added from the next chair over “Every time you have the phone in your hand, your face lights up like a freakin’ Christmas tree.”

“It’s nothing,” I shook my head “ I mean..it can’t be anything. It just can’t so…I need to stop day dreaming.”

“What’s the matter? He married?” Carmella popped her gum loudly.

“No,” I shook my head “Nothing like that.”

“So, what’s the reason?” Naomi closed her eyes as I began her eyeshadow.

“It’s just, not gonna happen,” I sighed “He’s just not ready for a relationship…I don’t think he ever will be.”

“Oh,” Carmella nodded “Fuck boy, huh?”

“Not exactly,” I concentrated on the line of Naomi’s eye pencil “He just, doesn’t like labels. Or commitments. Or basically anything.”

“So it’s strictly sex?” Naomi asked once she could open her eyes again.

“No,” I reached for some glitter shadow “When we’re together, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world. I can talk to him about anything and he’s so different than when we’re around other people.”

“Sounds shady,” Carmella leaned forward to put on her own lip gloss “Girl, you need to go find you a real man.”

“What about Baron?” Naomi asked.

I dropped the lid to the glitter and it puffed all over the counter.

“Baron?” I laughed.

“Yeah, you two are close right? And I have seen him staring at you.”

“He’s pretty damn fine,” Carmella stood up, scrunching her hair in her hands “He’s got that whole badass thing going on.”

“Ladies, curtain in two minutes!”

Saved by the damn curtain.

Baron’s strong hands gripped my face as he backed me into his hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“I missed you,” he breathed into my mouth.

“Me too,” I panted, sliding his shirt over his head and immediately licking my tongue up his chest.

“Fuck,” he groaned, stripping me of my shirt too.

As his hands roamed all over me, I suddenly came out of the Baron fog and realized what I was doing. I was falling right back into the trap. I couldn’t allow myself to do that anymore.

“You’re so beautiful,” he moaned, his hands moving up my back and into my hair.

I had to put an end to this. No matter how bad it hurt. No matter how big the hole in my chest would be from where I ripped my own heart out.

“Baron,” I pulled away from him.

His hand was halfway done unzipping his jeans and he looked up in confusion.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I shook my head and reached for my discard shirt, sliding it back on.

“What?”

“This, this whatever this is,” I held my arms up “I don’t even know anymore what it is, all I know is that I can’t do it.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, running his hand over his face “You can’t leave…”

“Yes, I can,” I whispered, walking over to him and pressing my forehead into his chest briefly.

His chin rested on top of my head as I felt the heavy rise and fall of his breathing against me. The silence in the room was deafening except the beat of both our hearts pounding in my ears.

“What’s the matter?” he picked my face up to look at him “I do somethin’?”

“No,” I shook my head, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes “I just, I’m not cut out for this…I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, wait!” he called after me as I headed for the door.

I let it shut behind me before I could hear his voice again.

I cried all night into my lumpy pillow. The television rolled rerun after rerun of Frasier and I didn’t bother to change the channel. Around two am, I ordered room service. Breakfast food, complete with two mimosas. Nothing seemed to help, nothing would erase the feeling from my brain, from my heart, that I had stirred when I left that room.

Baron had only tried to call me twice in the space of five hours. His last call had been hours earlier. No voicemail, no text messages.

I scooped up a spoonful of eggs benedict and desperately pleaded for the ache in my heart to go away.

My phone buzzed next to my leg and I warily picked it up.

You ok? Baron asked me to check on you. Something up?

It was Corey. If Baron hadn’t told him what was going on, then he must be angry. I typed out a message that I was fine and to go back to sleep. He didn’t respond and I was grateful as I downed my two mimosas back to back.

I must have drifted off around six in the morning but by eight there was a loud knocking on my door. I groaned, sliding off the bed, still dressed in my clothes from the night before.

“I’m coming,” I whispered, finally getting a steady enough hand on the door to open it.

“What’s going on?” Corey stood on the other side.

“Seriously?” I leaned against the door frame “I’m sleeping. Go back to your room.”

I didn’t shut the door but I turned and stumbled back to my bed. He followed me in, slamming it behind him.

“Baron calls me in the middle of the night. His voice is all fuckin twitchy and he’s begging me to check on you like your life is in fucking danger. Then he texts me half the night wanting to know if I heard from you. He’s fucking flipping out and I want to know what’s going on. Right now.”

Corey knew about our hookups. He had told us both from the start it was a bad idea but our hormones were raging so loud, we hadn’t listened.

“I ended it,” I grabbed the room service tray off the end of the bed and sat it on the nightstand.

He raised a curious eyebrow.

“I told him that I couldn’t see him like that anymore.”

“Why’s that?” Corey asked bluntly and I felt like I was being interviewed for The Network.

“Honestly,” I stared down at my hands “I care to much about him. It hurts to be with him…Not being the only one.”

Corey laughed, running his hand over his mouth to stifle it.

“You can’t be serious?” he sat down beside me “You honestly think that Corbin is hooking up with other women?”

“Well, yeah,” I shrugged “I mean, we’re not exclusive.”

“Baron is in love with you, Y/N. Are you blind?” Corey mused “The man follows you around like a puppy dog, he worries himself sick about you all the time. You are the only woman he gives a damn about and the only woman he sleeps with. I can promise you that.”

“He told you that?” I felt my heart flutter with hope.

“Not in those exact words but yeah,” he laughed “You’re like his lifeline and he’s scared shitless that he’s pushed you away…You gotta go talk to him.”

“I don’t know,” my eyes dropped to my nervous hands resting in my lap.

“You love him too…Don’t you?”

I looked up at him and I saw warm understanding on his normally wild face.

I nodded.

“Then you only got one option.”

“Baron!” I knocked on his door a few minutes later.

I had showered and changed clothes. Still dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt, not exactly the outfit you wear when you’re trying to win a man.

The door flew open. He was dressed for work. A suit and tie on, which would normally make me inwardly giggle cause I knew he hated it. His hair was twisted up and when his eyes fell on me, I saw him breathe a little sigh of relief.

“You ok?” he immediately asked.

“No,” I shook my head “Can I come in?”

He moved to let me pass him and shut the door.

“About last night,” he moved toward me “I’m not sure why you…”

“Do you care about me?” I blurted out.

“What?” he whispered hoarsely, a wave of vulnerability I had never seen came over his face.

“What I mean is, this whole arrangement we have…Is it enough for you?”

He stood frozen for a minute.

“Cause it’s not for me,” I shook my head “I want more from you. I want to be able to go out in public with you and let everybody know that you’re with me. I want you to be more than just some comfortable hook up to pass away the days on the road….And if you don’t want that then you need to just tell me and I promise I’ll leave you alone but I won’t be back like this. I won’t come crawling back wanting sex and…”

“You’re right,” he finished, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

I stopped mid sentence and stood silent to hear what he had to say.

“It’s not fair to you,” he let out a heavy sigh.

I felt my heart sink into my stomach.

“To me…” I drew out slowly “So you’re ok with how things are then…?”

“I didn’t say that,” he sighed, his hands running down his face in frustration “I don’t know what I’m fucking saying.”

I watched as he circled the room before he slumped down on the bed, his head going into his hands.

“Look,” he finally cast his gaze up to me “I have interviews scheduled in thirty minutes and…”

“And they’re more important,” I nodded “Than figuring out us.”

“I know what I want!” he sat straight up “I wanna keep seeing you. I want to kiss you and feel you and all that shit…”

“But you don’t want to date me.”

I felt like I was deflating before his eyes and he had no desire to breathe any life back into me.

He stood up, towering over me as I felt tears start to slide down my cheeks.

“Don’t do that,” he growled, his thumb tracing my lower lip as it trembled.

“I, I can’t see you anymore, Baron,” I shook my head “I’m sorry.”

I turned toward the door, my hand gripping the handle tightly.

“Yes, I care about you,” he growled out.

I froze and slowly turned around. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants and his eyes were pinned to the floor.

I walked toward him and he finally looked up at me.

“I care,” he mumbled awkwardly “I wonder what you’re doing when we’re not together, like if you’re seeing somebody else. I wonder if some guys hands are pawing all over you…because you deserve better than that.”

I stood back from him and lightly folded my arms across my chest.

“At night, I care that I can’t just roll over and feel you. I care that you’re all I can fucking think about, that I can’t get you out of my head. I care that you’re the best friend I’ve ever had in my whole god damn life and I can’t even tell you how much I love you.”

I drew in gasp of air and his eyes closed tight. I could tell he hadn’t meant to take it that far.

“And last night,” he continued “When you ran out of here, all I wanted to do was to tell you that I wanted everything that you did. But I couldn’t fucking say it. I was up all night worried about you, kicking my self in the ass for every stupid thing I have ever done. The way I just get dressed and leave you, after I’ve been staring into your eyes and touching you…I just leave you like you’re somethin’ I don’t need….I need you. Every time I kiss you…It’s like I know in the back of my head, it’s where I’m supposed to be, you know?”

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Yeah, so I care,” he finally locked eyes with me for longer than a couple seconds.

“I think I always knew it…I just didn’t think that was something you wanted.”

“Me either,” he shook his head ‘But sometimes things happen.“

“Like falling in love,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he reached out, pulling me slowly up against him “Just like that.”

His hands slid down the sides of my face, his thumbs pushing my hair out of my eyes.

“I’ve never told you how much I like your eyes,” he whispered in a gravely voice.

“Why’s that?” I managed to get the words out.

“When I look in them…” he shook his head “I get lost.”

His hands slid down to wrap around my waist and lift me up like he had a million times. My legs tightened around him.

“Your meetings,” I gasped suddenly.

“Let me worry about that,” he mumbled, as his mouth tilted toward mine.

He lowered me onto the bed, biting at the base of my throat with moans escaping his eager mouth.

“I like you in a suit,” I groaned, as his knee pressed in between my legs.

“Don’t get used to it,” he chuckled softly.

I reached up, unbuttoning the two buttons and sliding it off his shoulders. He finished removing it and tossed it.

I took hold of his tie, pulling him back down to my throat. Baron kissed a trail up to my mouth and pressed our noses together.

“Did I say I love you yet?” he growled.

“No,” I shook my head “You didn’t have to.”

He bit at my lower lip before he engulfed my mouth. Our kisses deepened as his hand roamed down to the button of my jeans. He unhooked it and slowly moved down the zipper. I raised up so he could slide them off.

His warm hand, slid slowly into the top of my underwear and danced along how wet I was for him.

He moaned against my ear, dipping his fingers into it and drawing them out. He brought them to his mouth, lightly sucking them inside.

I watched him with wide eyes, his knee still pressing against me as I started to grind against it.

“You always want me, don’t you?” he lapped at the side of my neck, just below my ear.

“Always,” I gasped, the sensation growing from the pressure his knee was providing.

He finally took notice and pulled it away, standing to strip himself completely as I watched.

Baron crawled back onto the bed, hovering above me again. He ran his finger down across my lips and his eyes grew incredibly serious.

“I always want you, Y/N,” he moved down to tilt my chin up “Just you.”

I raised up, pulling my t-shirt over my head. His teeth dug softly into the flesh below my collarbone, moving down until he was at the valley of my cleavage. One hook of his hand behind my back and my bra was discarded. His large hands took one of my breasts in each as he lightly bit the flesh of them.

“Baron,” I groaned, bucking my pelvis up against his naked one.

“Shh,” he whispered, moving his hands back to my face.

“Please,” I pleaded, as he looked me in the eyes.

“There you go again,” he hissed, his mouth catching mine in our most intense kiss yet.

While he kissed me, his hands slid my panties off with my help and he pressed himself between my bare thighs. I could feel his hard arousal scraping against my leg as he moved with each takeover of my bruised lips.

Finally, we broke apart and I heard his breathing increase as he pushed the head of his dick against my opening.

We had done this hundreds of times but it felt like the very first time we had been so vulnerable. Our eyes remained locked as he slid inside me and I moaned as he filled me.

He started moving inside me, slowly and delicately. Not like him at all but I could tell he was enjoying it. I was too, as our eyes never left each other. His fingers darted out to trace the top of my cheek, then cup the side of my face.

Baron’s mouth went to my cheek, kissing it slowly, then moving further down until he sucked on the side of my neck. His teeth digging in on occasion.

I felt him speed up inside me and he raised back up to look at me again. I moaned, when he spread my legs wider apart and started pushing harder into me.

“Shit,” he chuckled in disbelief.

I felt the same. It was amazing how different it all was, knowing what we knew now.

I felt his hips start to slam against mine and before long the familiar slapping sound of his deeper thrusts.

My muscles clenched around him and I dug my nails deep into his back.

“Oh god,” I whimpered beneath him “Baron, I can’t…”

He grunted, releasing inside me with a string of gasps as I came all around him.

“Baron,” I moaned again, as his mouth fell against my neck.

My fingers tangled in the hair that had fallen from his bun and I gripped him tighter against me.

We both regained our breath, our senses and came back to Earth. He sat up on his knees, pulling me up with him. His hands roamed over my face before he placed a kiss on my forehead.

“Fuck,” his eyes dropped to where our hands had intertwined absently “I love you.”

I reached up and brushed his hair behind his ear, drawing his mouth close to mine.

“I fucking love you too.”