#finn O'Hara

[lumosinlove]

Well saw the reference photo and literally could not resist.

I don’t think you get more finnlo-chaos-pining-obsessed-bestie-bitey-romance than this right here.

Leo comes in strong with a fond shake of his head.

Rouge? Can I—hey—can I borrow your phone charger?

[tardiskater]

obessed with that author on ao3 who wrote a 200k wolfstar fic and made background characters so good she now has an entire series dedicated to them 😭😭😭

[marmarifer]

Noots!! For my first day of O’Knutzy week, using the “sunglasses” promt and inspired by yesterday’s amazing tennis au that Hazel wrote, I give you… the Challengers poster but make it ✨CUBS✨

@oknutzy-week-2024 thank you for organizing this awesome fest and @lumosinlove thank you for creating the most amazing characters ever!!

[fruitcoops]

Do They Know It's Christmas?

Happy holidays, lovelies! And most importantly, happy noot fic exchange/ secret Santa to @itsaash --you're a legend, a sweetheart, and a friend I hold near and dear to my heart. I hope everyone is staying safe and sound! You've made it through the shortest day of the year; it's only up from here! Thanks to @veryspacecowboy for coordinating the exchange and @lumosinlove for the characters!

TW for implied smut and mild Vaincre spoilers

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus Lane…

“Fourth line, take it left!”

…and all the fun we had last year…

“Good work, boys, remember we’re working clockwise.”

Run, run, Rudolph, Santa’s gotta make it to town…

“I know, I know, but we need to get that down before we break today.”

…come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with…

“Keep those crossovers clean in the corners, Sunny!”

…the very next day, you gave it away…

Arthur frowned at his clipboard. An ache had started up along the inner corner of his eye, and not even the steady working of his thumb brought relief. The song changed to something bright and tinny with silver bells; the things he would give for a nice, quiet O, Holy Night right about now. Something soft, with minimal jangling. A saxophone would be lovely.

They had a schedule. They always had a schedule. The boys were used to rotation exercises—he had even taken pity and not added anything new or complicated to the roundup. The whole damn thing was laminated and taped to the damn glass around the damn bench on both damn sides of the goddamn rink.

Arthur’s eyes ticked typewriter-smooth down the list, but his ears alone would have told him it was a lost cause. Messy crossovers. From Sunny. Crunchy, scratchy steps from skates of perfect sharpness. Low muttering, barks of laughter, rollercoaster-arcs of chatting when they were supposed to be focusing. Cap did his best, but Harzy looked about two laps from chewing his way out through the boards.

Well. It was almost Christmas. He could be kind.

The whistle broke through Brenda Lee’s second chorus; 20 heads popped up.

“Revision!” Arthur called across the ice, drawing a steady line through the end of his list. “Bring it in.”

Their rush to the bench was the cleanest they had sounded all day.

“We’re going to finish a little early today—”

A wave of cheers cut him off, then petered out at his unimpressed glance.

“We’re finishing a little early,” he repeated when the Christmas spirit had released their souls at last, leaving only a faint ringing in the upper levels of the bleachers. “Because I’m taking off the last rotation.”

Arthur slipped his pen back into the clipboard clamp. Olli raised a tentative hand. “So…we can go…?”

Arthur frowned. “What? No, we’re going ‘til noon, if you just—guys, the schedule is right there—”

“Nooo—”

“But Coach—”

“—Christmas!—”

“I haven’t even—”

“—been here so long—”

“—like you don’t even love us—”

“—mom’s gonna kill me if I don’t—”

Unbelievable. Simply beyond words. Arthur looked over Nado’s pleading hands, hoping for an ounce of solidarity from the one person besides himself who was literally appointed for this duty, and was met with only a beleaguered, whale-eyed stare in return.

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

Sirius gazed back.

For such a large person, he could really pull off ‘sickly Victorian child begging for gruel’ when he wanted to.

“Alright,” Arthur muttered. It was lost in the sea of writhing and wailing. “Alright!”

The team (finally) fell somewhat silent.

“I am very sorry,” he began, pausing to slide his clipboard onto the bench hook. Their anticipation was delicious. “That I assumed a group of grown men playing their favorite game for millions of dollars would be able to handle one morning practice for their last competition before a holiday break.”

Pots’ eyebrows pitched as if he had been stabbed. “But Coach, it’s Christmas.”

“It is December 22nd.”

“I haven’t even found something for my dad yet!” Walker piped in.

“Sounds like a personal problem with time management.”

Pascal—the traitor—shuffled on his skates. “I was going to make holiday cookies with my children,” he said sadly. “They grow up so fast. We might not have many years of it left.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you go at noon, not locking you in here overnight. And I know you make cookies on Christmas Eve, because you put them on my doorstep every year.”

Pascal tsked, but didn’t deny it.

“You get cookies?” O’Hara perked up, craning his neck to look at Pacal. “How come we don’t get cookies?”

“Because I don’t need you to like me,” Pascal said with a smile.

“What if we need to catch flights?” Knut interrupted.

Arthur squinted at him. “Knut, we have a game tomorrow. You better not be going anywhere.”

“Well, no, but the sentiment stands.”

“No, it does n—you know what, fine, if you make it through…” Arthur leaned around the glass to squint at his beautiful, crisp schedule. “Your next two—TWO, I don’t wanna hear it—rotations before 11:30, I will let you out then.”

“And no lift tonight?” Kuny asked hopefully.

“Don’t push it.”

“Veto.”

Budding protests froze over in one collective puff of breath.

…the stars are brightly shining…

“What?” Arthur asked at last.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices…

Sirius licked his lips, shifting from one foot to the other. “Veto.”

Arthur opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Every eye in the room was fixed on their captain. He rested his chin on top of his hands, folded on his stick. Lupin’s gaze flickered back and forth.

“But I…” Arthur faltered, gesturing at the schedule.

“I get three.”

“It’s not even 9:30.”

“No questions asked.”

“We have a game.”

“It’s snowing outside.”

“How do you know that?” Arthur asked despairingly.

A grin skipped across his face. “I’m Canadian. I can smell it a mile off.”

“Also, Tremzy texted everyone right before practice,” O’Hara added.

“It’s snowing, have fun at practice, you fucking losers, ha-ha,” Knut recited with a grave nod.

“No, no,” Sirius corrected. “My bones are made of snow and I was born with hockey skates in one hand and a thermometer in the other.”

“That, I believe.”

Arthur waved his hands between them before the already-unbearable situation could get any worse. “Let me just…” His headache was coming back. Going home early was starting to sound less terrible by the minute. “You, as captain, get three vetoes across the span of your contract.”

“Ouais.”

“Which you can use to veto any practice you want, for any reason, with no questions asked by me or other staff.”

“That’s what I signed, yes.”

“And you’re using it on a snow day? With barely two hours left of practice? Before a game and a week off?”

Sirius smiled. “Veto.”

“Lupin.” A last-ditch effort. Perhaps a dirty play, but it was warranted. “Lupin, don’t you have anniversary plans? Birthdays? Anything else he can use this on?”

The captain’s barely-contained mischief was bad enough. Lupin’s mild bemusement was worse. “I’m sorry, Coach, but I can’t question a veto from my captain.”

Arthur scanned the crowd of hopeful faces. Sometime in the last minute and a half, Knut had slipped his phone off the bench and was doing his best to text under Winter’s elbow. Kelly Clarkson sang along to his imminent defeat. He sighed, shook his head, and opened the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nobody moved.

Arthur blinked. “Merry Christmas?”

Not a twitch.

“Ho-ho-ho, get out.”

The dispersal was the most active they had been all day, surging forward in one mass of whooping red and gold. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Moody turn the music up a notch before hustling back into his office.

The herd had vanished down the tunnel in a matter of seconds. Arthur shook his head, turned his smile toward the empty rink, and pulled out his phone.

--

The locker room was a disaster.

“Don’t pull so hard!” Leo grunted as he fought to wriggle out of his jersey, hopping on one socked foot while Finn tried to help him out of his remaining skate. “I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna fall, Kasey—”

An elbow to the ribs righted him. “Yeah, no, I’m on my way out,” Kasey called over the ruckus, sandwiching his phone between his ear and shoulder. “Yeah, lemme get my shoes on. Al’s driving? Jesus, maybe I’ll just walk.”

“A tie is bad, right? That’s a bad gift?”

“T, I’m sure your dad will love anything you get him.”

“But I got him one for his birthday.”

Remus grimaced for just a moment, but it was enough. Thomas dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

“No, hey, it’s a good gift!” Remus tried, patting his shoulder. “Does he have a lot of ties?”

“He’s more of a sweater guy.”

“T.”

“I know, I know, I know.” Thomas sighed. His head fell back against his stall, then rolled toward Remus as his lip slid out in a pout. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Did Remus have to give him a minute with this one? He was a little afraid he did. “T,” he started. “Your dad likes sweaters.”

“Yeah.”

“So get him sweaters.”

“But what if he doesn’t like them?”

Remus took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “He likes you.”

Thomas made a desperate sound and rolled his head the other way, then heaved himself upright. “I need to go outside. The cold clears my mind.”

“Way ahead of you!” Finn shouted over his shoulder, one hand clasped in Leo’s and the other on the doorknob with his skates teetering dangerously over his shoulder.

Leo hoisted their duffel bags, shuffling through the narrow doorframe with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. He gave them one last clumsy wave with a glove half-on. “Lo sends his love, even if he’ll never say it!”

“Yes, I’m coming,” Kasey laughed, presumably still to Natalie. He caught the door with his foot just as it was beginning to close; Remus grabbed the edge of it from him and waved off both his grateful look and mouthed thank you. “Yes, baby,” Kasey repeated. “Usual spot. On my way.”

It was a disaster, and then as fast as they had all tumbled in, everyone flooded out. A few of the newer guys remained, muffled by the hum of the showers. Dumo ruffled up Sirius’ hair as he passed, preoccupied by Celeste’s rapid-fire French on the phone and the hustle of his light jog. Remus was pretty sure he caught some mention of the park; there was one near their house with a pond that froze around this time of year. He was a little surprised Logan wasn’t already staking his claim on it.

Sirius’ arm was around him before he even started to sit. It made for the perfect guide and counterbalance, settling him firmly on a denim-clad thigh with a kiss to seal it in seconds. “Hey,” Sirius mumbled against his shoulder blade.

“Hi, trouble,” Remus laughed.

Sirius hummed, obviously pleased, and gave him a squeeze around the waist. “That felt good.”

“Using your powers for evil?”

“Mhm.” Another pulse, this time with a cheeky pinch to his hip. “And you.”

Remus scoffed, swatting at him, but couldn’t help leaning back into his warmth all the same. He was lucky Sirius couldn’t see the heat of his face, too preoccupied with nuzzling his way across the span of Remus’ back to leave a kiss at the top notch of his spine before burying his nose in the divot below. Odd creature, that one. Remus liked him far too much. “What are you doing?”

“You smell good.”

“I haven’t showered.”

“I noticed.”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. He gave the room a cursory glance—the stragglers were just finishing up, too engrossed in whatever wisdom James was bestowing on them to notice the graze of Sirius’ teeth over the arch of his shoulder. “I was thinking,” Remus started, then lowered his voice. “Was thinking we could do it at home instead.”

Sirius’ smile pressed bright and devious to his skin. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Am I invited?”

“Unless I’ve started using the royal ‘we’,” Remus teased, digging his elbow lightly back into the curve of Sirius’ rib.

His laugh was soft, but the pat to Remus’ outer thigh was perfectly heavy with promise. “Get your bag.”

News of their early departure had obviously reached the ears of the rest of the training staff, because the halls were stark in their emptiness on the way out, after many goodbyes to James and promises of dinner tonight. Remus had been dying for some actual holiday time—he had planned gifts months in advance, dedicated an entire Monday to wrapping, agonized over delivery times and game schedules and delays.

But he was craving the substance of it, the literal meat and potatoes of people coming over to ooh and aah at the ornaments over dinner by the fire. Most of all, he wanted some time that was theirs. A brief moment to enjoy the lights and the smell of fir with just himself, Sirius, and the dog. It had been…three weeks? More? Since they put the wreaths and boughs up around the house. He was pretty sure that was the last time they had been able to do holiday things that didn’t involve obviously sneaking off to get gifts for each other.

Sirius seemed to feel the same. They had hardly made it past the PT room before he was pulled into an empty hallway for a kiss that melted in his mouth like butterscotch. He hummed, pushing into it, but Sirius just took him by the hips and pressed him back against the wall. Okayokayokayokayokay came the giddy whirl of the end of his thoughts.

“This.” Sirius’ mouth moved against his jaw, threatening a mark above his pulse point. “This is what I was after.”

“Cancelling practice just to kiss me,” Remus said, breathless already. His throat caught at a flash of teeth under his ear. “So irresponsible.”

Sirius’ eyes were bright and playful. “And I’d do it again.”

They got away with another minute—or five—before footsteps sounded down the other hall. Remus took him by the hand and pulled him toward the parking lot at a brisk, tumbling clip, sneakers pattering on the floors Filch was waiting to wax until they were all gone for the break. Hooligans, he called them. It echoed in Remus’ head as he kissed Sirius stupid in the hall beside the display cases. If only he could see them now.

The air bit his face as soon as they stepped outside, hot and kiss-fresh. Remus could hear voices around the corner but Sirius’ hand was sliding ever-lower and he just—“There’s people!” he hissed, fighting his grin with a blind bat backwards.

Sirius was too fast. A firm grab made him hoot, startling a laugh from both of them. “The entire world has seen us making out in a car, loup,” he snorted. “I think that’s worse.”

It was only the Cubs, after all, and half a snowman wearing a disjointed collection of gear. Leo’s oh-so-subtle text must have done the trick to summon Logan out of his holiday relaxation. He had only flown in that morning after the Rangers’ last game, but he seemed plenty awake despite the journey.

“You’re making me cold just looking at you,” he argued, adjusting his beanie over Leo’s ears while Finn finished rolling the head beside them. “You’ve lived here for years, and still you forget a hat?”

“Merci, baby.” Leo tried to sound begrudging while he obediently bent to let Logan work, but it only came off as fond. Remus could relate.

“And Fish just lets you walk out of the house like this. Unbelievable. It’s snowing.”

“It wasn’t snowing when we left,” Leo pointed out. “I seem to remember a ha-ha, losers text informing us of the change.”

Logan’s tsk was sharp as black ice while he tenderly tucked Leo’s curls under the hat’s knitted edge and kissed each of his cheeks. “Completely frozen over,” he informed Leo. “You’re welcome.”

“Now you’re going to get cold.”

Whatever disbelieving expression Logan made was lost to Remus as Sirius ushered him around the back of the car, but his scoff was plenty audible. “I’m Canadian. I don’t get cold.”

Sirius’ forehead hit the steering wheel the moment their doors closed. “I want to be home,” he complained.

“You’re in the right place to get there.”

“I don’t want to drive.”

“I can do it.”

A pathetic sigh heaved his back and shoulders. “I don’t want to wait fifteen minutes.”

Remus tugged on the back of his hat. “Not that I’ll ever say no to a little New Year’s action, but I feel like we just covered why that’s not a great idea in broad daylight.”

Sirius groaned, grumbled, and turned the car on.

Between salt and the morning commute, the roads were mostly clear. The familiar crunch of snow under tires pulled half of Remus’ brain from the rink; the other half followed at a sluggish pace, coaxed away by radio carols and the mindless chatter the two of them somehow managed in spite of spending eighty percent of their time together. The window was cold on the side of his head. Remus never liked freezing, but there was something about a snow day that always felt like home.

The house lights cast red and green glimmers over Sirius when they pulled in. They were working on getting decorations he liked; things he actually wanted, not just what Instagram said he should use. It wasn’t a lot yet, but it was a start. The icicle lights above the door had been a particularly good find.

They were greeted by a loud bark and the scrabble of paws. Hattie careened around the corner from the living room (she had taken to dozing under the tree) and spun herself at their feet in a few tight circles for maximum petting efficiency.

“We’re home so early!” Sirius cooed, gathering her wiggly body up in his lap like she was still tiny. “Oh, you’re so excited. Did we surprise you?”

“We were so mean to poor Coach,” Remus agreed as he dodged her lolling tongue. “Yes, baby, so mean, but now we’ll be home all day.”

Hattie keened and whined and nibbled on everything in reach for a tolerable thirty seconds, then launched herself out of Sirius’ lap and made a beeline for her toy box. She had hardly made it halfway to them when a cardinal flitted past outside—her ears spiked up, body puffing on a low bwoof. Remus barely got the screen door open before she was off like a bird-seeking missile, cutting through the snow in leaps and bounds.

They dumped their gear in the mudroom, made a snack, planned lunch, played with the dog, dried the dog, cleaned her paws, and finally—finally—they were standing in the same room, with nothing to do for another hour at least.

“Hi,” Remus said, heart kicking.

Sirius smiled. “Hello.”

Hattie’s teeth squealed on her peanut-butter-filled toy.

They wasted no time for foolishness on the stairs. A sweater on the ribbon-wrapped banister; socks in the hall. Sirius’ pants didn’t even make it across the bathroom threshold, belt clattering on the floor. Remus turned the shower on with his eyes closed because he quite simply could not be bothered to spare more than one hand.

“C’mere,” he murmured into Sirius’ mouth, even as he stepped backward under the spray. “C’mere, don’t move.”

Sirius’ response was wordless and perfect.

Steam built around them, chasing off the chill. The house was decorated. The presents were wrapped. Meals were planned, the dog was busy, and Remus was tired but he was so, so awake now, with ink-black hair wound around his fingers and a boy that held him so the hot water never left him.

Sirius rested his head on Remus’ shoulder and went lax at the drag of a soapy hand over his back. “So good.” His mouth rested at the curve of Remus’ jaw. Every word cooled his skin. “So good to me.”

“Doing my best,” Remus joked with a scritch to his nape.

Sirius raised his head, blinking sleepily around the water that spilled down his face. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t scrambling for gifts this time of year.”

“I do.”

“Mm?”

“Last year.” Remus smudged a few soap bubbles down the bridge of his nose. “Shopping for you.”

Sirius’ forehead wrinkled. “Me?”

“I was being cranky,” Remus assured him, running his thumbs over Sirius’ collarbones. He didn’t have a lot of soap left, but he would be shameless and greedy about touching like this. “Lily knocked some sense into me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“The best.”

“And she’s lucky to have you.” A kiss pushed the side of his hair into a cowlick; Sirius grinned as he smoothed it down with one hand. “Trop mignon.”

Hot hot hot hot hot. Remus wrapped both arms around his waist and sank his teeth into the knot of soft muscle above Sirius’ heart. Sirius’ laugh jostled him, but that was fine. He was used to it. “I love the holidays with you.” One last little kiss to his neck, to the spot he had bitten the other night and made Sirius’ leg tremble. “I love you.”

“I’m going to veto every single practice forever.”

“No,” Remus laughed, swaying them back and forth. He covered Sirius’ wicked smile with his hand and kissed the back of it. “No, non, not allowed.”

“But I get kisses and showers and I love you’s and dinner—” His hands skimmed up and down Remus’ sides, running over wet skin with the expertise of someone who knew all his soft spots. “—and you bite me and our dog loves us and we get to see James and Lily tonight—”

Remus cut him off with his lips this time. “Your perfect day,” he whispered, though it was just them in the house. “Sounds pretty close to mine.”

“Copycat.”

“Maybe we should just stick together,” Remus offered. Sirius’ fingertips found his own, lacing together all too easily. “For maximum perfect-day concentration, you know.”

“Nothing else, of course,” Sirius agreed.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I put mistletoe above our bedroom door when we were decorating.”

“Amateur. I put it on the ceiling above our bed.”

[noblecorgi]

2024: A Re-Entry to Fandom

I guess this is a thing? (Oh shit this brackets bit was written at the end and I appear to have emotionally vomited an essay. Sorry ‘bout that.)

In late 2023 I experienced a personal tragedy and retreated to where I had always found comfort: books.

I read a series that had been recommended to me before, but I hadn’t had time to read it - The Simon Snow Trilogy by @rainbowrowell and it awoke a dormant-but-never-forgotten love of fanfiction in me.

In my teens and early 20s I wrote a lot of fan fiction on the ol’ FF net, all of it of atrocious quality I’m certain, which is why I haven’t tried to rediscover that account.

Instead I found AO3, and restarted regularly writing for fun instead of for work or study/research.

I didn’t do any summation for 2023 because I think my first fic was posted on like 10 December 2023, but AO3 tells me I wrote 4 works, all SnowBaz, at a total of 55,154 words.

In 2024, I’ve published 5 works, at a total of 94,323 words.

What truly blows me away (and honestly makes me a bit teary) is the 1013 kudos, 100 subscribers (inc 15 subscribers to just me rather than a fic!), and 222 comment threads on my works. 🥹

So: my 2024 works.

Use your words, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 3,930 words

A smutty lil gift fic wherein Baz teaches Simon how to sext.

Splendid Morons, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 12,886 words

Published for Erotic Grope Fest, aka Baz’s birthday. A collaboration with @alexalexinii and a story written to enable their amazing art of Baz in lingerie.

Precious to me for not only getting to work with Alex, but also for being the beginning of my relationship with Becky @rbkzz, my incomparable beta who has become one of the dearest people in my life.

On The Rocks, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 74,592 words (WIP)

My opus, as it were. It originated from a fluffy cute prompt of “what if Baz and Lady Ruth were work besties?!” And I came along like “YEAH! But with trauma, exploration of love in mental illness, and alcoholism!”

I began posting it in March and it’s about 2/3 done now. But for Becky it would be both an absolute pile of horse poop, and an abandoned WIP. Instead it has a clear direction and she found motifs that I’d repeatedly used by accident in my drafts and built imagery, greater meaning, and also debated me ad nauseam on my preference for spelt over spelled.

Immune Response, @lumosinlove’s Cubs, Rated: G, 1,421 words

I was a big consumer of WolfStar in my teens and was recommended Lumosinlove’s Sweater Weather and, like many before me, fell in love with the story, the original characters, and ice hockey itself (much to the surprised glee of my Canadian spouse, who for a decade has tried in vain to get me on board. Little did he know the key was obviously gays.)

This is a lil’ slice of life sick fic examining how each of the Cubs responds to getting sick.

I have a lot more unpublished drabbles about these characters and some fics that are being cocreated so stay tuned for 2025?

Preliminary, my dear Basil, SnowBaz, Rated: T, 1,494 words

A gift fic for @martsonmars as part of the Carry On Discord’s Secret Snowflake Exchange.

Among their suggestions was “Sherlock AU, but not BBC Sherlock, 19th century Sherlock” and it hooked me with the idea that Baz would absolutely fancy himself as Sherlock. I actually sketched out a plot to SnowBazify 4 of the Holmes stories, so maybe 2025 will see them unearthed.

There is one other published fic I worked on this year, but as a beta rather than a writer for @swoopswrites @rsbigbang piece Class A which was super fun to do (and got me to watch a great series - The Gentlemen on Netflix) and Swoops has a fantastic mind so I’d encourage you to to check it out.

Finally, I have always been a writer rather than an artist, but I do enjoy drawing, and the need to upgrade my iPad for work arose and so I also tried my hand at drawing again for the first time since I was 17 or so.

In order from the first one to the most recent one, the lil scribbles I did this year:

Penelope Bunce, Wolfstar on a train, Baz with coffee, cuddly Cubs, FinnLo being adorable, iconic Moony with a cane, emo Sirius Black.

And THAT was 2024 (and 2023).

@artsyunderstudy @asocialpessimist @angelsfalling16 @whatevertheweather @edenalix @emjaydellyone @erzbethluna @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @roomwithanopenfire @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @lonleyhumanbeing @letraspal @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @ichooseyousnowbaz @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @philaet0s @pacey-bunce-loves-joey @sorenphelps @skee3000 @stitchy-queerista @fiend-for-culture @facewithoutheart @fruitcoops @girlwithcurls96 @hushed-chorus @hihimissamericanbi @cutestkilla @cosmicalart @confused-bi-queer @noopienoopiernoopiest @messofthejess @monbons

[oknutzy-week-2024]

And here it is! O’Knutzy Week 2024 will be July 15th - July 21st giving you two days of rest (or to catch up and read like I will be!) Please do not feel obligated to stick to one row or column or diagonal to write, draw, collage. Do what you are drawn to!

Please make sure to tag this blog and @lumosinlove when you post!

[platonicmoonwater00]

finally reading vaincre and im giggling

hello hello pandora

[always-reading]

LOST MY FUCKING MIND

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

not sure if anyone here has read the all for the game series but tell me leo knut is NOT just another version of jeremy knox???

jean and kevin are just finn and logan but angstier?

[batman-soup]

Pov: Logan tremblay’s everyday view

[mymoonss]

daily rant <3

the unhealthy obsession i have with @lumosinlove ocs is crazy LIKE how do i tell someone “hey so yk harry potter godfather sirius. well he’s in love with professor lupin but instead of magic they play for the nhl.. and basically they are in love. my favs tho are these 3 weirdos that go by “the cubs” and GUESS WHAT they are in love too <3” so yeah… i love o’knutzy but no one knows who they are 😭😭😭 (don’t even get me started on coops, jily, and LITERALLY any other ship in the sweather weather universe)

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

Link to Ao3

~

june part viii

“Hold on, hold—What did you say?”

Sirius stepped out onto the moonlit porch of the cottage and put a finger over his free ear—as if it was his fault he could barely hear the words his little brother was saying. Regulus’ call had come half-way through washing up after dinner, Julian begging for a nighttime game of pick-up, and Hope laughing at Remus for eating the last of the apple pie straight from the dish. He’d assumed he was calling about travel plans, but he hadn’t expected the thumping music in the background or cacophony of laughing voices. 

“I said I’m driving up day after tomorrow,” Regulus shouted, then laughed at something and said hello to someone, telling them to make themselves at home.

Sirius briefly wondered where he’d picked up the phrase and learned to use it so easily. It wasn’t like they’d heard it much. Make yourself at home. Instantly, Sirius thought of that basement bedroom at Pascal’s, and their warm kitchen—the kids doing homework, Celeste and Pascal cooking. Sirius, you don’t have to ask for water or anything else. Please, help yourself.

“I know that,” Sirius shouted back to Regulus, even though he probably didn’t have to. “You—ouais, you already told me that?”

“Oh. I did? Okay!”

“Ouais, I—” Sirius turned as Remus’ face appeared through the screen door, a questioning look on his face.

“You good?” Remus asked. “You’re yelling?”

Sirius pulled the phone away a bit. “I think my brother is drunk calling me.” He pressed the speaker back to his cheek. “Are you okay?”

Remus, obviously trying not to laugh, retreated back into the house.

“I just wanted to call,” Regulus shouted in his ear. “I just wanted to say, see you soon. Just wanted to say I’m glad this is—”

There was a long pull of silence, during which Sirius couldn’t tell if Regulus was talking to someone else, had dropped his phone perhaps, or was just thinking.

“I’m glad…” He began finally. “I mean, I’m glad these things happened.”

He didn’t sound drunk, Sirius supposed. He just sounded…unsure.

“What things?” Sirius asked.

“Everything.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to call you! And hear your voice, Sirius, fuck.”

“Why? Are you okay?”

More cursing, a blend of French and English. “Yes. Nothing has to be wrong for me to want to talk to you.”

“I…Ouais, okay.”

It seemed like he had moved somewhere quieter, but only by a bit. There was still music, low and filled with quick-lyrics, and Sirius caught passing parts of English conversations. Sirius picked out one voice, a girl, who said Regulus��� name and find me later.

“Who is that?” Sirius asked, then felt stupid.

Regulus didn’t hear him, busy telling the girl something before the speaker rustled, back against his ear.

“So. Finn and Alex go running every day,” Regulus shouted over the music. “I mean, when they can. When they’re in the same city.”

Sirius hadn’t known that, but, then again, Regulus probably spent more time with the Cubs. He should stop thinking of them as the Cubs. That had been Finn and Logan during their rookie seasons, and then Leo, but they didn’t really deserve that anymore. Especially not with a Cup.

“I—That’s nice.” Sirius looked towards the lake. The waves were soft tonight. All the boats had long gone home. Did he want to go running together? “I thought you were sort of done with…”

“No, I don’t want to run, I just…”

For the next few seconds, and Sirius pulled his phone back to watch some of the time go by on the screen, there was more silence. This was their way. He wished it wasn’t, he wished he had the right words to fill every part of his brother’s mind until he could cancel out all the wrong ones. But half-finished sentences it was. Half-thoughts that somehow found completion once they both stuttered and tried a few dozen times.

“I’m just saying,” Regulus said. “I’m just saying that when I get there, I’m your brother not your house guest.”

Sirius looked back towards the screen door at that, hoping Remus would be there. House guest? What did that mean?

“Did that sound bad?” Regulus said loudly.

“Non,” Sirius said. “I—non. I don’t—okay.” He was sort of panicking. Dumo would have known what to say. “I’m—sorry.”

“Non. C’est—Non. I’m saying it all wrong.”

Finn and Alex run. House guest.

“I…” Sirius cleared his throat. “Reg, I can barely hear you. I don’t know…I don’t know what else… I didn’t mean to make you feel like we’re…”

Not as good as other brothers.

“I just mean.” Over everything, he did hear the breath Regulus let out. Someone else said his name through a laugh and a hello. “Hi, yeah, come on in.”

Sirius waited, unsure how to have this conversation with music and other people right there.

“I should probably go,” Regulus said. “Sorry, I know you’re with everyone. And I know I’m—it’s loud, sorry. I don’t know.”

“I’m not with everyone,” Sirius said.

“Ha, right.”

Something definitely took a tumble in the background. The music soared up, louder, and Regulus cursed.

“Shit,” he said. “Sorry! Someone—Sirius?”

“I’m here,” Sirius said. “I’m right here.”

“I should…” The next words, shouted like they were talking to each other over a windstorm, still hit Sirius somewhere soft and gentle. “Hey, I get to stand next to you, right? On the day? Your day.”

Sirius pressed a hand over his chest and found the lake blurring through what must be a few tears. That. That had surprised him. It probably shouldn’t have.

“Please,” Sirius said, then laughed a little when Regulus did. “Yeah, you’ll stand next to me.”

“Good. Okay, good.” Someone else said Regulus’ name.

Sirius realized he still thought of him as his quiet brother, half pressed against the sides of rooms so nothing could surprise him.

He felt only pure relief in realizing that wasn’t true anymore.

“I love you,” Regulus said suddenly, a gasp of breath almost. “So. Yeah, I do. And I’ll see you soon.”

“I—see you soon,” Sirius said, staring, unseeing, at the lake. “I love you, too, Reg.”

He sort of forgot to go back inside. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting on the top porch step until a blanket appeared around his shoulders and Remus sat down close enough to press their hips and shoulders together.

“Is he okay?” Remus asked. “You’ve been out here for a while, I couldn’t tell if you were still on the phone.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “I didn’t help with dishes.”

“More than enough hands for that.” Remus turned Sirius’ hand over and traced a line of his palm with his thumb. “Everyone’s gone up to bed.”

“He just said he…” Sirius cleared his throat. “He just wanted to call me.”

Remus nodded. “Okay…Is he all good?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, he—he said Finn and Alex go running together when they’re in the same city. And that when he gets here, I should treat him like a brother? Not like a house guest?”

Remus laughed, just a little. “Well, okay, then. Blunt, as usual.”

“I have no idea what any of it meant.” Sirius rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t think he was actually drunk? I mean, I don’t know.”

“Sounds like he wants to spend time with you.”

Sirius shook his head, bewildered. “Sounds like he wishes we were Finn and Alex. Merde, or you and Jules. I don’t…”

“No,” Remus said, hand hooking over Sirius’ shoulder. He rested his chin there, too.

“Yes.” Sirius sighed. “I don’t know. He was so… He has all of these friends, and then he said he loved me, and asked if he gets to stand next to me. I thought—I mean, of course?”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean before.”

“Well—Before when?”

Remus squeezed his arm. “He might have thought you’d choose James. Or Pascal. Julian said he thought I was going to choose Thomas when I told him he’d be next to me.” Sirius felt Remus’ quiet laugh against his neck. “Then he googled weddings and got all freaked out I was going to make him give a speech.”

Sirius smiled. “Oh God, Reg is not going to give a speech, there’s no way.”

“That’s fine,” Remus said. “We have a lot of people who are going to want to say something. I went with my dad and sorted out the whole music, sound-system situation today. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to stop potential karaoke.”

“Oh God. James.”

“Yeah.”

“Finn.”

“What, you’re not going to sing me a song, Black?”

“There’s a lot of things I’ll do for you…That’s maybe not one.”

“Well, damn.”

“Unless you…like, really want me to.”

“I would never torture you like that.”

Sirius pressed his smile into Remus’ cheek, enjoying the way Remus leaned further against him. Something made the nearby waves pick up, and Sirius closed his eyes, suddenly wanting to be in their room with the windows open, listening to them as they fell asleep.

“We owe your entire family a vacation,” Sirius said. “A long one.”

“For real, though,” Remus laughed. When Sirius put his hand out, Remus laced their fingers together. “Hey.”

Sirius looked down at him. He had more freckles than Sirius had ever seen him with. They dotted across his nose and cheeks. They would be there for their wedding photographs. Something about them made Remus look like he had when Sirius had first met him in his Lions staff jacket. Hi, Sirius? I’m Remus Lupin. Is there anything I can do for you?

Remus hooked a finger in the neck of his shirt, pulling his attention back to right then.

“You’re the one who found a whole new sort of family,” Remus said. “It’s good Regulus is doing that, too.”

“I know.”

“And you’re doing it again. You’re my family and we’re yours. That includes Reg—believe me. If you don’t make him know it, my mom will.”

Sirius smiled. “Hope Lupin versus Regulus Black. That—oh, what’s the thing your dad says?”

“Which thing?”

“Ah…” Sirius squinted upwards, carding a hand through Remus’ hair. “Oh. We love to see it.”

Remus tilted his head back, laughing. “We love to see it. Oh my God. You’re funny that you remember that.”

They leaned their heads together. The waves had quieted. Sirius watched Remus’ thumb make slow tracks over his knuckles and wrist. The woods around them rustled, and a cluster of crickets sang somewhere close by. Sirius still couldn’t believe how many stars he could see here.

“I know we just said how much help we’re getting with wedding things,” Remus said quietly. “And that we owe them a vacation, so we should probably stick around. But…”

“But?” Sirius said, then he couldn’t help himself anymore and leaned in to kiss Remus. He made a soft, happy sound. Sirius pressed his thumb over his engagement ring.

“Do you maybe,” Remus hardly leaned away to speak, “want to drive somewhere tomorrow?”

“Just us,” Sirius said, and kissed him again, then again, in time with the hush of the lake’s shore.

“Just us.”

~

“No.”

Finn laughed as he reached the end of the pier before Alex, catching himself on the railing. He pulled back, letting himself hold on by his fingertips as he tilted his head up to the sky and let out a whoop.

“I win,” he shouted. “I fucking win.”

“I let you win,” Alex panted. He had his hands on his knees and was trying to blink sweat out of his eyes. “Tell me, who’s in the playoffs right now and needs to conserve their strength? Oh yeah. Me.”

“Fuck off,” Finn said. “I’m not even out of breath.”

“That’s because you’re a freak.”

Finn reached forward and flicked the bill of Alex’s cap up, knocking it to the ground.

Alex swiped at him, making to hit him in the groin, but Finn jumped back, out of reach. Alex scowled as he picked up his hat.

Finn turned back towards the water. The day’s heat was catching on now and he adjusted his own cap, pushing his sweaty hair back.

“No training today, right?” Finn asked.

“Nope.” Alex came to stand beside him. “Day off. Tomorrow, though. Morning’s optional. Do you know if Tremz is going?”

“I’ll ask him.”

They walked in the sun until they could cross back across the road and the smooth pavement of the river paths turned into the West Village’s cobblestones. There was a cluster of dogs outside of their regular coffee shop and Finn saw Alex snap a photograph of a particularly glossy golden retriever and send it off to Kasey.

“Are you bringing breakfast back or are they meeting you?” Alex asked.

“Lo’s probably sleeping still—bringing back.”

Alex nodded. “Do you—like urgently, or—Want to sit for a bit?”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I wanna sit. Are you okay?”

Alex turned his hat backwards as they went inside the shop. “Why?”

“You just started three different sentences.”

Alex kept his eyes on the menu. “I just—What are you poking me for, I want to have coffee with you, I’m being nice.”

Finn put his hands up. “Okay. Be nice, then.”

They ordered and found a table out front, so small they had to sit side-by-side to avoid being in the middle of the sidewalk. It was half in the shade of a tree and in the shadow of a row of Citi Bikes. Finn watched Alex fidget with his straw.

“How’s your shoulder?” Finn asked.

“What? Oh, fine. Just one of those things. Doesn’t bother me enough to bother me.”

Finn nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s got that with one of his calves. Doesn’t bother him on the ice but at home he’s all—you know. Harz, Le, can you get that, my leg.”

Alex laughed. “Let me guess. You get it for him.”

“So what if we do?”

“Shocker.”

Finn laughed, shaking the ice cubes around in his cup. “Whatever.”

They watched two beagles pass by, one coming over to sniff intently at Finn’s shoe. Finn asked if he could pet them, mostly trying to give Alex a moment to say whatever he wasn’t saying. He ran his palm over the dog’s soft ears, smiled at the warm kisses of its tongue against his wrist, and nodded his thanks to the owner who continued on.

“They’re not getting married. Yet.”

Finn watched the dogs go for another moment. Their white-tipped tails swished happily in unison. Twins. Brothers.

Finn turned back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee. Alex was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He had one of his knees bouncing. When it rattled the table, he stopped.

“Hello?” Alex sighed.

Finn put an arm around him and pulled them together. The bill of Alex’s hat, low on the back of his neck, bumped into Finn’s nose, but Finn just held on tighter.

“Al…” Finn squeezed him hard. “Thank God, fuck.”

“I—yeah.” Alex sighed, slumping into him a little. “Guess you were right. I was worried. And sad.”

“I know,” Finn said. He pulled back. “How is everything now?”

Alex laughed, rubbing at his jaw. “Fuck. So much better. It’s like I was using half my lungs or something.”

“Don’t I know that feeling.”

“Yeah, what is up with us?”

“Mm…I don’t know. Maybe mom knows.”

Alex shook his head like he was still clearing the fog of these last months. He turned his face up towards the sunlight coming through the trees. “Yeah, she probably knows. Anyway…”

Finn raised his eyebrows and Alex shrugged.

“There you have it,” Alex said.

“There you have it? C’mon, how’d it go down?”

Alex groaned. “It went down, that’s all that matters.”

“Alex. What happened to telling each other things?”

“There’s nothing to tell. Natalie and I talked and then Kasey and I talked and—I don’t know, I confessed?”

“Al.”

“And I cried.” Alex slapped his hand to his thigh, laughing a little. “Which was—nice. But embarrassing.” He messed with his straw again, the paper scratching against the plastic lid. “I don’t think I even—really knew how worried I was. I think I assumed they would get tired of me. And I was just going to have to be okay with that.”

“I’ll beat up anyone who thinks they could get tired of you.”

Alex smiled slightly. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“O’Haras don’t do sometimes. We’re all-day-every-day.”

“Ha, yeah. I guess that’s true.”

“So, you’re spending the summer together?”

“Yeah, gonna go to California, train with one of Kase and I’s old teammates. See Natalie’s family. What are you guys doing after the wedding?”

“France,” Finn said. “New Orleans.”

“Fancy you.”

Finn smiled. “Lo’s hoping for a Cup day in August, obviously, and he wants to bring it to Harvard with Percy and Will.”

“You gonna go?”

Finn nodded. “I want to take Leo all around. I mean…If he wants. I think he’ll like it? But I don’t want it to feel like…”

“‘Here are all the things we did without you?’”

“Yeah, exactly.” Finn stretched his legs out under the table. “I want—I’d mean it like, look, this is special now because you’re here, too. I mean, it was special before with just Lo, but it was also just…”

“Sad,” Alex finished.

“Yeah.” Finn laughed. “Are you going to finish all my—”

“Sentences.”

“Al—”

“—ex, stop,” Alex wined, then laughed loudly when Finn punched his arm.

“Okay, I’m done having coffee with you.”

Alex laughed and stood up. “Yeah, yeah, if you don’t get Tremz his chocolate he’ll bite you.”

“I mean, you’re—”

“—not wrong,” Alex said, then jumped out of Finn’s reach.

“Alex.”

“Okay, okay.” Alex lifted an arm and pulled Finn in. “See you later, yeah?” He pulled back and flicked his forehead. “Love you, Fish.”

Finn squinted one eye closed. “If you say so.”

Finn waited until Alex was halfway down the street, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“I love you, too!” Finn shouted.

Alex turned to laugh, shaking his head.

Finn shut the front door to Logan’s apartment as quietly as he could. He set the croissant bag down on the counter, along with his keys and wallet, humming as he went. There were signs that Leo had been awake. Some coffee in the glass pour-over container, and his phone on the counter.

“Of course you and Remus are both morning hummers.”

Finn turned sharply towards the living room. “Whoa.”

Regulus’ sharp smile flashed and faded from where he sat on their couch. “Hey there.”

“Hi. Sorry.”

“No, my bad, I should have said something.”

“No. I mean—all good.” Finn took down a plate for the pastries. “Does morning hummer mean what I think it means?”

Regulus raised his eyebrows. “Uh. I don’t know. What does it mean?”

“Well…” Finn glanced in the direction of the bedroom. “Well, what do you think it mea—”

“Let’s just drop it.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Finn took a sip of his coffee. “If I’d known you were coming over, I’d have brought you something.”

“It’s all right,” Regulus said. “Leo said I are getting breakfast before I head up to Remus’ lake house tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes. Wedding. Best man, right?”

“I think James thinks he is, but it’s me.”

“Of course it’s you!” Leo emerged from the direction of the bedrooms, freshly showered, and pressed a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “Morning, Harz. You look so cute. Little tomato.”

“Thanks? I think.” He twisted Leo’s gray streak, still damp, once around his finger. “Sleep okay?”

“Second half of the night, yeah.” Leo let Finn run a hand over his hair, eyes closing happily. “How’s Alex?”

“He’s good. I beat him home, so, ha.” Finn put a thumb over Leo’s bottom lip. “Where’s our pet hockey player?”

Leo laughed, took his hand, and kissed it. “Still snoozing.”

Yes. Finn set the plate down. “Cool. I’m going to…” He glanced at Regulus. “Go say hi to him and then shower.”

“Say hi to him?” Leo repeated with a snort. “Okay, call it what you want, I guess. Reg and I are getting breakfast. Oh, and I think we’re going to his friend’s birthday party tonight—you wanna come?”

“Love to.” Finn looked at Regulus. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Regulus said, standing. “Logan, too, if he wants.”

“We’ll see if he feels like he’s gotta lie low,” Leo said. He shrugged at Finn who nodded. Then Leo made a happy sound and wrapped his arms around Finn’s shoulders. “Party with you, I like the sound of that.” He pressed a firm kiss to Finn’s mouth and it felt like sparking wires. “I love you, I love you, you’re sweaty, ew, I love you.” He kissed Finn’s cheeks before whispering in his ear. “I know what you’re up to, you better change those sheets.”

“You got it, lover,” Finn whispered back.

“You guys are really bad at whispering,” Regulus said. He was standing by the door now. “Le, I want waffles.”

“I want that special quiche they had that one time, fingers crossed.” Leo grabbed his wallet and keys, then stumbled a bit when Finn reeled him back in, straight into one more kiss.

“I love you,” Finn said. “Have fun.”

“You taste like summer,” Leo smiled. “See you tonight. Let Lo know and we’ll text you the address.”

“Tell Logan congrats on making the finals,” Regulus called, then the apartment door swung shut.

Finn slipped through their open bedroom door, undoing his watch as he went. He smiled at the sight that waited for him. Logan was sprawled across the whole bed, like he was searching for them even as he was asleep. He was on his back, bare save for the tight gray briefs that he favored, and his chin was tilted up with his arms by his head. The sheets were low enough to show his tattoo. Finn’s heart picked up just looking at him. He could feel himself getting turned on. Logan and Leo both liked making love in the morning, and if Finn wasn’t careful, he’d see every sunrise and get endlessly hopeful each time.

Finn sat on the edge of the bed, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. Logan didn’t stir. He put a hand on Logan’s hip, thumbing over the dark ink. Nothing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss right to the center of Logan’s chest. That got a deeper breath, one of only just waking up.

Logan peeked an eye open and then, seeing Finn, closed them again and let a slow, sleepy smile spread over his face.

“Hi,” Finn whispered. “Good morning.”

“Mmm…Cœur.” Logan kicked back the covers. “Did you run?”

“Yeah, just got back.”

Logan stretched, his back arching. By the sly, tired look in his eye he knew exactly what he looked like. “Do you want to…”

Finn nodded, rubbing a palm high over Logan’s inner thigh. “I really fucking do.”

The sound Logan made next was low in his throat and pleased. “Come here.”

“Leo doesn’t like it when I bring outside sweat into the sheets,” Finn said—just to make him ask again.

“Good thing they’re my sheets,” Logan said.

Finn laughed and reached behind him to yank off his shirt. “That’s true.”

He shed his shorts and socks, too, and Logan tugged him down by the band of his underwear.

“If someone told you I was a morning hummer…” Finn mumbled into his kiss.

Logan threw a leg around Finn’s hip and pushed him onto his back. “Who’s someone?”

“Not Leo.”

Logan settled his weight down over Finn’s clothed cock and rocked slightly. He pressed one more kiss to Finn’s mouth before putting his hands against Finn’s chest and sitting himself upright. “Not sure I like that someone else knows that.”

Finn smoothed his hands over Logan’s strong thighs, so warm from being tucked under the covers. “That’s what I thought. Regulus just said—”

Logan froze. “Like, here?”

“Regulus was in our living room. Emphasis on was. Him and Le are at breakfast now, so…”

Logan sighed happily and rolled his hips again. “Oh.”

Finn hissed a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, baby, carry on. He says congrats on making the final round, by the way. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a few trips to Colorado. Not too many though.”

“Me too,” Logan said absently, more intent on palming Finn through the cotton material of his briefs, then himself. Finn could have lay there forever. He covered Logan’s hand with his and tucked a thumb into the front slip of his briefs to feel the silk of him.

Logan pushed into his touch, then bent to kiss him before reaching for the bedside table. Logan held the jar they kept there out to Finn and bit his lip around a smile.

“Oh, now he’s bashful,” Finn said, taking it.

Logan let loose his full grin and fell forward, tucking his face into Finn’s neck to bite at the sweat-damp skin. It was a bit of a tangle, ridding themselves of the rest of their clothes, and Finn laughed softly at the way Logan splayed his thighs wide over his lap, grinding their half-hard cocks together.

“You smell,” Logan whispered.

“Well, if I recall what I’ve learned about you over these many years—”

But then Logan was kissing him, licking into his mouth until Finn bit down on his lower lip just to hear his low groan. Logan moved down to kiss the salt from his jaw and neck, firm lips and quick dashes of his tongue and sharp, just on the side of not-too-hard nips from his teeth. Finn wondered what Logan would say if he asked him to just cover him in those biting kisses entirely and take his time about it.

“Did you have sweet dreams?” Finn asked, unscrewing the jar’s top.

“I’m in one,” Logan said, pulling back to watch Finn slick his fingers. “Did you have a good run?”

“Yeah,” Finn said, watching the way Logan’s eyes trained on his hand. “Got a chocolate croissant from that coffee shop by the river.”

Logan’s eyes darted to his, affronted.

Finn reached down and smoothed his hand over Logan’s ass. “Don’t give me that look.” He enjoyed the way Logan’s breathing hitched when he dug his palm into his muscles. “I don’t go near a bakery without leaving with something for my Lo.”

“Finn,” Logan whispered shakily.

“My sweet tooth creature of chocolate and sour candy.”

Logan pressed back against Finn’s slick touch.

“Of course it’s chocolate that turns you on.”

“You turn me on—” Logan cut off as Finn’s fingers found home, brows drawing together. His knees tightened around Finn’s hips. “Ah…”

Finn pressed his smile into Logan’s temple, then turned it into a kiss. They had time, so Finn kept his touches slow. The sun was coming through the window, lighting up dust in the air and throwing a warm slant across Logan’s lower back. Logan lay down against his chest and Finn could feel each one of his steady breaths. He kissed Finn’s skin every once in a while. Finn stroked his free fingers through Logan’s hair. It was almost like he was going to be put back to sleep, save for the needy thrum of his heart Finn could feel if he pressed a palm to his back. His skin still held that solid sort of heat he always had when he was sleeping, the warmth Leo and him always pressed their freezing fingers against in the middle of the night. Most people, Finn guessed as he felt Logan’s cock began to get wet between their stomachs, would shy away from any cold touch in their sleep. A slumbering Logan, however, always seemed to give them more room to warm up.

“Feels good?” Finn murmured. He scratched gentle fingers down the back of Logan’s neck and used the leverage of his other, slightly tweaking wrist to press deeper inside Logan’s body. More oil, a third finger that made Logan press his forehead into Finn’s chest and push back against his hand.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “Mhm, fuck.”

Finn rolled his head against the pillow to catch a good look at Logan’s parted mouth and shut, blissful eyes. His lashes cast those gorgeous shadows.

“You’re so fucking strong right now,” Finn said. “Fucking big, it’s…” Logan’s shoulders, the powerful muscles of his back, made Finn’s cock ache. He pressed hard into Logan, gentle with the pads of his fingers, until the corded muscles in Logan’s back shifted like rippling light and Logan gasped out a sound. “God, Lo, I love it.”

Logan’s laugh was a huffy, embarrassed sound, but his cheeks were pink and proud as he pushed himself to sit up, palms on Finn’s chest. Finn’s hand slipped out of him, but Logan was already reaching for the jar, then taking Finn in his hand, in both hands, to give him slow, smooth strokes.

Finn’s hips were pinned by Logan’s weight and he dug his nails into Logan’s thighs, trapped there with nothing to do but try to breathe through the sight of Logan’s scarred-knuckled hands around his cock. Logan watched, too, then darted his eyes to Finn’s face.

“I love your voice,” Logan said softly. His accent, sated already, dragged his words like a hand through clear water. He pushed himself onto his knees and positioned Finn’s cock, pausing to rub it against himself for a moment. “I love when it sounds like I’ve had you already and we haven’t even started.”

Finn just smiled and ran a hand through the mess Logan had left on his stomach. Then he felt the heat. Logan’s heat. It locked around him and Logan’s head dropped back in one, satisfied motion as he worked himself slowly down.

Finn’s toes curled and he dug his heels into the mattress. “Lo.”

“Mm,” Logan smiled up at the ceiling, eyes closed. He didn’t move. He stayed still, adjusting, before lifting himself so Finn could watch his cock slip nearly all the way out of him. Logan’s mouth fell open slightly, lost in the feeling if sinking down again. Finn, looking up from the mesmerizing sight of where they fit together, had expected his eyes to still be closed. But Logan was watching him.

“Sometimes, I can’t believe it’s you,” Logan whispered. He smoothed his palms up Finn’s chest over his heart. “I’m so—” He cut off as Finn accidentally slipped out of him. The sudden lack of contact ached and Finn hissed as his shaft jolted, seeking Logan and dripping beads of want from its tip.

“Non…” Logan began to say.

“Here, baby,” Finn was there, holding his hips and guiding them together again. “God.”

Finn felt his cock pulse, watched Logan feel it inside by the look on his face, saw the gleaming evidence of being as close to the edge as he was when Logan pushed himself up again. Finn splayed his hands over Logan’s ribs.

“So good,” Logan whispered. “You feel so good…”

Finn bent his knees, planting his feet on the bed to lift up into Logan’s body. It was the moments before the fall when he never felt deep enough, when ever part of him wanted to hear the sound of his skin moving against Logan’s more than anything.

He gripped Logan’s thighs, his fingers pressing indents into the strong muscle, and relished in the weight of Logan’s hands on his chest as he tried to keep his balance even as his breathing uneven. Logan reached behind him, hooking an elbow around Finn’s knee and found his rhythm again, letting himself fall down as Finn pushed up.

“Lo,” Finn grit out. It half-occurred to Finn that he should be doing most of the work, that Logan had other performances to pay attention to, but the blinding heat around him banished those thoughts quickly enough.

When Logan began to come, Finn knew he was only halfway there. He didn’t touch himself. Didn’t move to have Finn touch him.

“Ah—Ah—” Logan was loud. Hoarse, panting sounds fell from him that Finn swore were going to make him come. He reached down and pushed on the root of himself, trying to starve it off. Logan wasn’t done.

Logan leaned forward and fucked himself back on Finn in quicker snaps now as he painted strips of white over Finn’s body. Finn tilted his head back into the pillows, relishing the silky splash that reached up his chest, and the rhythmic squeezing of Logan’s orgasm around his cock.

“Fuck,” Finn said, hand circling Logan’s cock in a tight grip. “Oh, fuck, Lo, keep doing that, keep…”

Logan braced his hands on Finn’s ribs and began to push himself harder, hardly lifting off at all.

“Come here,” Logan whispered. He tangled his hands in Finn’s hair, gripping tightly, and kissed him.

Finn didn’t break the kiss as he went, just let Logan lick up his gasps. He pushed Logan onto his back in the rough, tumbling way he liked and hardly gave him any time for a please little laugh before he was grinding his cock into him, aiming straight for what would get Logan close to the edge of another one.

“Uh—” Logan pressed his teeth around Finn’s jaw, then dragged a half-kiss across his cheek until they were kissing as Finn rocked into him. “Yes, yes, Finn, yes…”

“I know.” Finn’s words sounded shaky to himself as he spread his palms down Logan’s back. He kissed the corner of Logan’s parted lips, the side of his nose, the high of his cheek. He caught a flash of green and Logan was suddenly looking at him again. It was written all over his face, how good he thought Finn felt inside. Finn could feel it in the half-smile they gave each other just before it was too much again and Logan dipped his fingers into Finn’s hair and brought their foreheads together. He felt it in the span of Logan’s hand down his back, then the way he cupped Finn’s jaw just to kiss him again through their mixed, heavy breaths.

Finn pressed his cock deep into him, almost straining for more, and stayed, and stayed, sucking a bruise into Logan’s neck until he felt him seize up around him and come between them again with a gasp. Finn smiled to himself.

“Good,” Finn whispered as he began to move again, chasing after his own now. “I’m gonna…”

“Yes.” Logan’s voice stuttered, pleasure that sounded like tears. He was trying to bring Finn closer with every part of him, drawing him in with his heels and the clutching of his hands and his core. He pushed his head back into the pillows and Finn kissed over the curve of his throat. He got a hand around the side of it, thumb just under his chin, so he could keep him like that while he added another bruise.

He thought of the party tonight as he rocked into Logan harder and watched the mark form as he worked Logan’s skin. Logan looked beautiful at parties. Low lights made his green eyes go dark. Anyone could see he was taken now. He’d need to pull Leo aside at some point, kiss him until he got that beautiful, open smile on his face like at the museum.

“Rouge,” Logan’s voice whispered. Two hands on the sides of his face. Logan had sweat beaded on his upper lip. Finn kissed him and slowed his hips. Logan reached down for his waist, coaxing him on. His thumbs were two lovely pressure points against each hip bone.

“Beautiful at parties,” Finn said softly.

Logan’s eyes edged on bewildered at that, but they were happy. They told Finn that Logan knew he’d been thinking about something, could even picture what he’d been thinking, at least a little. They’d always been that way. Logan nodded quickly, bottom lip between his teeth.

He began to fall over the edge at that look on Logan’s face. How had Finn ever convinced himself that Logan didn’t love him?

Logan opened up again at the feeling of Finn emptying inside him. Finn held his breath and closed a tight fist around the pillow beside Logan’s head. For a minute, they were just two heartbeats.

When he could breathe again, Finn peeked out from the warm crook of Logan’s neck. There was that small smile on his face, his eyes closed. He was making figure-eights around the notches of Finn’s spine. Finn shivered, sensitive now, and he eased himself from Logan’s body and tucked Logan into his side.

As he watched, Logan’s throat moved as he swallowed. Finn touched one of the love bites he’d left behind. Logan curled a gentle grip around his fingers, his palm against the back of Finn’s. He kissed the pads of his fingers and opened his eyes to look down at him.

“And what do I sound like now that you have actually had me?” Finn whispered, then winced one eye closed when his voice cracked.

“Sorry, what was that?” Logan laughed through the words.

“Shut up.” Finn ran a hand from Logan’s chest all the way down to the soft bend of his knee. “Oo-Ways.” Finn kissed his shoulder. “Want me to clean up?”

Logan thought for a moment, stretching beneath Finn’s hands. “Non. Shower soon.”

“Want me to bring you a chocolate croissant?”

Logan smiled. “Hm. Chocolate. What a turn on.”

~

Remus rolled the car windows down to let the smell of the lake and trees in, and smiled when he felt Sirius’ hand settle on his thigh as he drove them up towards the mountain trails.

“I still feel bad,” Sirius sighed. “Fuck.”

“Julian is not mad at you.” Remus said. “All we said was that we were going on a date—he can’t be mad that he couldn’t come.”

“But he was,” Sirius groaned.

“Disappointed maybe. He’ll live.”

“He’s going to hate me.”

“He literally could never hate you.”

“He’s going to start liking James more.”

Remus laughed. “Oh. So, that’s what you’re really worried about.”

Sirius just frowned at the sun-streaked road. Remus reached up to ruffle his hair. “Turn left here.”

He’d packed a simple picnic lunch and picked a straight-forward trail to a lookout that he’d hiked to a million times. The earth was spongy and soft beneath his feet as he settled the small lunch box, packed with icepacks, at the bottom of his bag. Making sure Sirius wasn’t looking, he opened it briefly to check all was right, then zipped up his pack.

Sirius started a few paces ahead of him, head forward as he climbed over roots and rocks like they were racing and he was determined to come in first place.

“Hi, I’ll just be back here,” Remus called out. “Your fiancé, trying to take you on a romantic hike.”

Sirius didn’t turn right away, so focused that it took him a moment to register that Remus had spoken. He stopped on top of a flat rock and looked back.

“Quoi? Did you say something?”

“I said I’m just your fiancé, back here, trying to take you on a romantic hike.”

“What?” Sirius laughed and stepped down. He retraced his steps back to Remus’ side. Even in the more mild mid-mornings, sweat already shone on his cheeks.

“Aren’t we trying to get to the top?”

Remus laughed. “Um. We’re going to get to the top.” He tugged at Sirius’ backpack strap. “Doesn’t mean we have to do it in under an hour.”

“Oh.” Sirius’ smile, aimed at the trees, was sheepish. “Right.”

Sirius stuck close to him after that, bending to feel a small stream running past them, or pausing to take Remus’ picture. Remus laughed himself hoarse when the rustle of a rabbit, darting between bushes, caused Sirius to jump half out of his skin. Sirius laughed himself when Remus stepped right into another small stream and walked the rest of the way disgruntled by a soaked sock.

They came to the summit sweating and out of breath, but as the trees opened up to reveal only sky and blue-purple mountains, they both stood quietly.

“Wow,” Sirius said. He turned in a slow circle, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “It’s like we’re the only two left.”

“If there’s anyone I would choose…” Remus began, and Sirius started to smile. “It would be Thomas.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Ouais, sure. Thomas.”

They found a shade-spotted place beneath a tree and Sirius rolled out the blanket from his pack while Remus set out their lunch of turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce—Sirius’ smile was worth the slightly soggy bread.

“Hey,” Sirius said softly. He turned Remus’ gaze away from his bag with a hand on his chin, and kissed him. Remus had expected it to be quick, and the warm swipe of Sirius’ tongue, then the small scrape to his bottom lip, made him sway and catch himself with a hand on Sirius’ knee. Sirius smiled at him when he pulled back. “Feels like yesterday.”

Remus nodded. From the corner of his eye, he could see his ring. “Yeah, it really does.”

“This is perfect.”

“Wait,” Remus said, then produced from between cold-packs, a half-bottle of champagne.

“Loop,” Sirius laughed delightedly. “Really—C’est parfait.”

Remus began to untwine the wire. “I thought you’d like that.”

They let the sun creep towards their blanket. The champagne in the plastic cups caught the light, and Remus wiggled his nose at some bubbles as Sirius cut into a ripe pear and passed him slices as he went.

“So.” Sirius took a sip of champagne. “Do you think anyone would listen to me if I tried any pull that might get Tremz back?”

Remus leaned back on his elbows. “Hm. Well, it’s not like—I mean, you wouldn’t exactly have to convince anyone on our side. But the Rangers would have to be willing to deal. Money would be the problem.”

“I think about it when I’m trying to fall asleep sometimes. I’d take a pay cut,” Sirius said. “And I wouldn’t ask that of Leo so early in his career, but I bet Finn would, too.”

“And Kasey’s retiring,” Remus added. “That frees up quite a bit.”

“Ouais, this is what I’m saying.”

“But if the Rangers aren’t interested—”

Sirius sighed. “Yeah…Yeah.”

“Logan’s about to get them to a Cup, their first in a long time, if all goes to plan.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, just looked out towards the mountains. He set the core of the pear aside, wiping the leftover juices on a napkin.

Remus sat up again. He rested a hand on Sirius’ sun-warmed neck. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you miss him.”

Sirius nodded. “I do, but… More I just…If we ever got traded apart—”

“La la la.” Remus scrunched up his nose. “No, don’t. We’re drinking champagne, you can’t talk like that while we’re drinking champagne.”

It had been one thing this year, getting used to being on a team with all of his closest friends. It would be something entirely different to be in another locker room, filled with other players—some of which probably wouldn’t trust his experience.

“I was just going to say, if it were me, or you, I’d hope someone would help me. And it has happened. A player leaving and returning. It happens.” Sirius glanced at Remus, then down. “This is going to sound bad, but I am the face of the Lions. When I got here, we were in a horrible slump. I was part of pulling them out of that. Me, James, Dumo, Kasey… Then Finn. Then Logan.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” Remus said. “That sounds true. That is true. I’d know, I watched it happen.”

Sirius nodded, then groaned and fell back against the blankets, his head pillowed on Remus’ pack. “I’ll try. I just won’t say anything to him in case nothing happens.”

Remus set his cup in the grass and rolled onto his side to be near him. He righted with the 1 and 2 pendants, which had switched to twenty-one.

“I love you,” Remus said. He leaned down to press his nose into Sirius’ cheek, enjoying the slight scratch of his stubble. “I don’t know how anyone calls those grey eyes of yours cold.”

Sirius just smiled, his eyes closing. Remus lowered his head to his chest and felt his arm wrap around his shoulders. The sun felt like it was soaking into his very bones. The champagne had made his head pleasantly buzzy, and Sirius’ heart beat slowly beneath his ear.

“I love you, too,” Sirius said.

He had hardly finished the words when Remus felt one rain drop, two, right on his cheek—and then downpour.

The sky was still blue, even as the sudden shower was came down with such force that for a moment they both merely lay there, staring at each other. Finally, Sirius cracked a smile, let out a surprised laugh, and began to sit up.

“Whoa. Oh my God, shit, the—the blankets.”

Remus’ laugh startled out of him. He shut his eyes and turned his head up to the sky. “Oh my God.”

Distantly, thunder rumbled beneath the rattle of the rain on the trees.

“Here, Re, go under that tree and I’ll—”

But Remus just pushed at Sirius’ chest, getting him to stay where he was. “No. I—no, wait.”

Sirius’ t-shirt was already thin and clinging at his shoulders, carving itself into his muscles. He blinked fast, laughing as the rain ran into his eyes. Up close, there was nothing steely about his expression. He was rainwater. Remus tucked two fingers around the chain of his necklace.

“It’s just rain,” Remus said.

Sirius spluttered a little. “This is—someone turned a tap on.”

But Remus just laughed harder and put his hands into Sirius’ soaked hair. It slipped, silky and dark, between his fingers.

“I want to kiss you,” Remus said. Raindrops ran into his mouth and matted his hair down against his forehead. “I want to kiss you when no one is about to come around the corner or knock on our door our shout up the stairs.”

At that, Sirius stopped trying to salvage their small camp. His hands found Remus’ waist and he lay back on the soaked ground at Remus’ slight pressure. Let their champagne mix with the rain in the plastic cups. Remus wanted to see if he could taste that combination, and he leaned forward and kissed Sirius for the summer storm that he was.

~

Luke liked Saint in his apartment. He liked the steam coming out of his bathroom and the sliver-glimpse he got of his lean body stepping out of the glass-encased shower. Luke looked back to his own reflection in the mirror. He’d ironed his shirt, the soft white linen mostly unwrinkled now. At least, he’d tried. He snapped a quick photo and sent it to Logan with two question marks.

The reply came after a few moments.

Nice!!

Finn was looking over my shoulder he’s better at this - brown belt instead?

On subway also - maybe slow reply

Where are you going?

Luke sent him the link to the restaurant.

But I’ve never been. Finn have favorites?

This reply did take longer. Maybe the subway, maybe Finn thinking. Then a link came through. He tapped on the address and it loaded in Maps, showing a small restaurant, not too far away. The tables were small. Candles. Romantic. A wave of nerves heated Luke’s neck and he glanced at himself in the mirror.

Thanks a lot

“You’re dressed.”

Luke looked up at Saint’s voice. His expression matched the faint hint of surprise it had held. He had a towel around his waist.

Luke set his phone down on the dresser. His heart really shouldn’t be pounding this hard. They’d done this before. These almost-dates. Quiet-never-quite-said-dates. Romantic, sort of, but could be mistaken for anything by the table beside them. Business. Friends catching up.

“Did you want me to lie around naked all evening?” Luke asked.

Saint arched a brow, but he didn’t reply and Luke smiled down at the brown belt he was weaving through his slacks.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Saint stepped in a slow arc around him, as if he needed every detail of Luke. Maybe there was something wrong with Luke’s heart. Maybe love didn’t make everyone feel this way. But it was nice. He wanted Saint to make him explode, actually, he really kind of did.

Logan was on the subway with Finn. They were probably standing or sitting pressed together. Maybe kissing once or twice. Luke had kissed Saint in an Uber, dark and out of view of the driver’s mirror.

“You’re going to be dressed like this, too, in a second,” Luke said.

“Why?”

Logan, talking about Leo coming back from his trip home. That night at that one bar, Logan had spent nearly the whole time pressed into Leo’s side just…content. Just at ease. So at ease.

Luke walked forward and took Saint’s face between his hands. Water dripped from Saint’s hair onto the cuffs of his shirt. Little dark droplets that would dry and fade. He kissed Saint once, then looked at his closed eyes and did it again.

“I’m taking you on a date,” Luke said.

Saint’s eyes opened. He had his mask up, the one he wore over his expressions on the ice. He looked Luke up and down, then moved out of his reach and went to the dresser. His eyes snagged on Luke’s phone, which he’d left open to Finn’s restaurant.

In the mirror, Luke caught a glimpse of a small, bitten back smile.

~

Finn steered them into a liquor store where they picked up small bottles of rum, gin, and tonic.

“I don’t know, it’s probably BYOB?” Finn said, though Logan hadn’t asked. He loved Finn and Leo in these stores, chatting up the sellers, asking advice. “The address is an apartment not a bar. We’ll stop at a corner shop and get you soda.”

Logan let Finn lead. He snapped a photo of Finn examining a wine label and Leo replied hot.

Finn made quick conversation with the man at the bodega, then found them a subway and grinned back at Logan as they walked down the stairs to the sound of a train rushing into the platform.

“You gonna hop it again if I dare you?” Finn asked as he took his phone out to pass them through to the platform.

“Shut up,” Logan replied without looking at him. Finn laughed at him but placed a kiss on the back of his neck.

The train to Brooklyn was crowded, but Finn spied one free seat and motioned Logan towards it.

“You sit,” Logan said. “You’re holding all the bags.”

Finn narrowed his eyes but complied. “I feel unchivalrous.”

“Un—what about a horse?”

“What?”

“Un cheval.”

“Ooh. Yeah, I have no idea.” Finn pulled Logan in until he was standing between his thighs. Logan held onto the rail above them and watched Finn’s eyes drop to the strip of skin it exposed as his shirt rode up. Finn steadied Logan with hands on the backs of his knees, the bottles clinking gently in the bag on his lap. He glanced at the two people beside them, eyeing the headphones over their ears and their noses in their phones, before playfully biting at the waistband of Logan’s shorts, laughing when Logan tangled his fingers in his hair and tugged his head back.

“Tu es un peu chahuteur.”

“Hm,” Finn said. “Eye level.”

Logan just shook his head. He was trying to decide if he was crazy for how Finn caused such a happy pressure in his chest, when he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. When he checked it, Finn tilted Logan’s phone down to see, then leaned back in his seat.

Logan laughed. “You’re such a baby. Luke’s just asking me if he looks okay for a date.” He turned the phone around. “There, you can see. I think he does.”

Finn glanced at the picture, then turned away in a huffy sort of way.

“Rouge.”

Finn made a show of adjusting the bag of bottles in his lap. He didn’t look up when he said, “Tell him to put a brown belt on instead of black. It’s softer.”

Logan smiled, leaned down to kiss Finn’s head, and typed on his phone. He heard Finn mumble something that sounded a bit like yeah, whatever.

Another text appeared. “He wants to know your favorite restaurants. Little bit fancy.”

“My favorite?”

“You did grow up here, so.” Logan was having a little bit of fun with the pink heat spreading across Finn’s cheeks. His ears. He reached out and rubbed a thumb over the warm shell of his left one. “Where would you take Le and I? Little bit fancy. Summer night. Nothing too heavy, have to play tomorrow…”

Finn worried the inside of his cheek for a moment, eyes on one of the subway ads behind Logan’s head. Finally, he sighed and took Logan’s phone. He typed an address and restaurant name into the text and hit send.

“Merci,” Logan said. “He says thanks.”

Logan let go of the above-head railing completely as the train pulled into another stop, letting people off. The two beside them hardly looked up and didn’t budge. Logan leaned more heavily into the cradle of Finn’s thighs, stabilizing himself as the train jostled forward again. He cupped Finn’s chin gentle and made him look up.

“I love you,” Logan said.

“I’m not jealous of him. I love that you have him, I’d be a horrible person if I didn’t, not to mention a terrible boyfriend,” Finn said. “I’m just—I’m jealous that he gets to see you every day.”

Logan put his fingers back in Finn’s hair, gentler this time. Finn closed his eyes and leaned into his touch.

“I know, Rouge.”

A whole season, Logan thought, not for the first time. How am I supposed to go a whole season without this?

They stood at the address’s buzzer for a few unanswered moments before texting Leo who told them to go around the alley and enter a gateway through the back. It led them to a courtyard, lit up by warm, white lights strung overhead. It was a crowded space, loud with laughter and music. Logan moved around the sparse lawn furniture, which was set out in odd pairs like different pieces had been left behind by different people. Leo. He just needed to spot Leo. Finn was looking, too, eyes scanning the crowd.

Finally, Logan found him, hitting Finn to get him to look. Leo was standing with three people, all of whom were listening to him tell a story. He was wearing a shirt Logan didn’t recognize, a lovely light blue color, and it was unbuttoned enough for Logan to see the pendant of his fleur-de-lis necklace. His chest and collarbones looked warm in the lights strung above the courtyard.

“Jesus,” Finn said. “Look at him.”

Logan chose that moment to trip a little on a loose stone, and Finn caught him with a hand on his chest but laughed so loudly a few people looked at them. Logan bit back a smile and shoved Finn.

“Fuck off.”

Finn just slipped their hands together and began to pull him in Leo’s direction. Logan pulled back, though.

“Wait.”

Finn looked at him, then at Leo, then back. “What? Why?”

“I think we shouldn’t interrupt,” Logan said. “Let’s just…” Logan was enjoying how lit up Leo looked, how much he deserved to be the center of attention like that. “Get his attention, but give him a second.”

Finn wasn’t subtle about it. He waved his hand above his head until the motion caught Leo’s eye then made a heart with his hands and pointed to the table filled with drinks. Leo grinned and nodded. His circle looked, too, and Logan smiled and looked down with hot cheeks when he saw Leo’s mouth form the words, those are my boyfriends.

At the drinks table, Finn’s hands were already swiftly pouring what looked like a gin and tonics.

“Ew,” Logan said.

“They’re for Leo and I,” Finn laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Or I would, if you gave me elbow room.”

Logan pushed closer to him. Finn didn’t complain, just settled a hand on the back of Logan’s neck and began pouring coke into a cup one-handed.

“Well, this is familiar. Drinks table, loud music. Mixing you a drink.” Finn reached for the rum. “You gonna watch me flirt with girls from across the room?”

“Ouais.”

Finn raised his eyebrows, looking up from where he was pouring. “Ways? What do you mean ways?”

“Then I’m going to come over and show them you are mine.” Logan took the cup Finn had now filled with ice. “I’d like to do it a few times, actually. Just because I can now. Go talk to someone and I’ll wait five minutes for them to fall in love with you, and then I’ll come over.”

Finn just picked up his and Leo’s drinks, shaking his head, but he was grinning hard. “You think it takes five minutes?”

“It took me two, I think.”

Finn clicked his tongue, but put a foot out to stop Logan from walking. “Come here, Ten, fuck.”

His kiss was soft, even quick, but Logan was surrounded by voices and lights, he could smell the rum in his drink, and it was almost as if he was eighteen and getting everything he’d ever wanted.

“It took me one,” Finn said, then laughed and walked away from Logan’s eye-roll.

When they turned, Leo was already watching them and grinning.

“You’re here.” Leo called when they weaved their way through the crowd. “I—oh, thank you, sweetheart.” He took the drink Finn held out and accepted a quick kiss. “Y’all, this is Finn and Logan. This is Amanda, Harper, and John—it’s Harper’s birthday, this is her place.”

Logan used the introduction time to move around to Leo’s other side. He was more interested in Leo’s lean back in that shirt than whose birthday it was.

“Happy birthday,” he said, offering a small smile to a girl with a pretty bob and brown eyes.

“Thank you,” Harper smiled. “Thanks for coming—wait, which one is which? Logan, Finn, Finn, Logan…”

Finn raised his hand. “Finn.” He pointed. “Logan.” Logan watched as Finn slipped right into his element. “Happy birthday. Wow, this is a great place—courtyard in the city is such a score.”

“Oh my god, right?” John said. Logan met his eyes and realized he had been watching Logan take in Leo. Logan smiled back, maybe a little awkwardly, then looked down at his drink.

“Seriously,” Harper said. “I’m not even sure how I got so lucky.”

“How’d you find it?” Finn asked.

Logan let every part of himself relax. This was a rhythm he loved. Finn, launching into a conversation so easily that he hardly had to say anything, hardly had to do anything except feel it when Leo put an arm around his shoulders and turned his head down for a kiss.

“Hi, Lo,” Leo said in his ear. He carded a quick hand through Logan’s hair. “Oh my God, I didn’t realize it was getting kind of long. I love it. How are you?”

“Good,” Logan said. “You look really good.”

That brought Leo’s smile to a new light. “Thanks, I bought this today. You like it?”

Logan nodded, reaching forward to touch one of the small, white buttons. They had a slight sheen to them.

“Thanks for coming,” Leo said. “I know you’ve got training tomorrow.”

“I missed you this morning, I wanted to be with you.”

Logan knew he should let Leo keep up with the conversation around them, even if he just wanted to ask how his day was, and what he did, and where he got the shirt so Logan could get him more of that blue color.

Leo squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll come to the gym with you tomorrow, I think.”

Logan smiled. “That’ll definitely make it go faster.”

“Wait,” said Harper suddenly, drawing their attention. “So, you’re like—actually…I don’t even know what to call it—like you’re in a playoffs right now.”

Logan blinked, but figured Finn must have said something.

“I was explaining we met through hockey,” Finn said. “And John said I looked familiar, so I was saying about Alex and such, maybe he’s seen his face around.”

“Oh.” Logan took a quick sip of his drink. “Ouai—Yeah. So, we’re about to start the final round. I fly to Colorado the day after tomorrow for the first game.”

“How many games are there?” the other girl—Amanda?—asked.

Logan felt himself smile a little, and noticed Leo and Finn doing the same.

Amanda flushed a bit. “Sorry, that’s probably a stupid question.”

“Non, non,” Logan said quickly, mixing with Leo and Finn’s protests. “Non, it’s—Really, it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t as, ah…” He looked at Finn, trying to find what he would have said in this situation. What was the thing he said? “Ah, wrapped up as we are in all of it.”

He paused, but Finn stayed quiet and the others were looking at him. “Um. Well, there could be four games, if one of us wins straight in a row.”

“A sweep,” Leo chimed in.

“Or there could be seven, if we really go back and forth.”

“And they’re all in Colorado?”

“Non, we trade off. Colorado, New York.”

“Damn,” John said. “That’s a lot of travel.”

“Tell me about it,” Leo said.

“So…” Harper gestured her drink between the three of them. “You’re all on different teams? That must be hard.”

Leo’s hand tightened around Logan’s waist. He saw Finn glance away.

“Ah, non. We were all on the Lions—Gryffindor’s team?”

“Oh, I love Gryffindor,” Amanda said. “My best friend moved there this past summer.”

Logan flashed a brief smile. “Ouais.” He nodded to Leo and Finn. “They’re still there. I got traded to New York a little while ago.”

“Oh.” John frowned. “Wow. I’m—is it weird to say I’m sorry? That feels weird.”

“Oh, no,” Finn assured him. “Believe me, we’re all sorry.”

“Hey, there are fights in hockey, right?” Amanda asked more brightly. “Do any of you do that?”

Regulus’ laugh reached them before he stepped up on Logan’s other side. “Wow. You two have been here for four minutes and we’ve already got the place flooded with hockey talk.”

“Guilty,” Finn said.

“Wait, so are you, like, famous to some people? To fans? Like would people stop you in the street?”

Logan just raised his eyes at Regulus. They obviously didn’t know who his brother was.

“Yep, got a couple of celebrities in our presence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows right back. “Bow down, I guess.”

“Oh, stop,” Leo laughed. “Finn, honey, come here, I want you to meet someone you’ll like. Lo?”

“Ouais, just going to get some more ice.” It was so hot, even with the sun lowering in the sky, that his drink was little more than watery soda.

When he found the ice again, it was also watery mush. Logan pushed a hand through his hair, cursing softly when it got caught on a knot. Leo was right, it was getting a little long, curling just at the back of his neck.

“Salut.”

Regulus had followed him apparently. He stood on the other side of the table a bit awkwardly, hands in the pockets of his shorts. His t-shirt said I can’t, the Rangers are playing.

Logan laughed, pointing. “I didn’t notice that.”

Regulus smiled and replied in French. Thank God, Logan thought. He was already tired. “A little inside joke. Sirius was livid.”

“Ha, I bet he was.”

“Here. Fresh ice,” He pushed a cooler Logan’s way.

“Ah, great. Hey, thanks for inviting us. I know you probably don’t want all the hockey stuff around but—”

“Non, non,” Regulus said quickly. “I mean, yes. But that’s not—I don’t mind so much anymore. Obviously.” He gestured to his shirt. “Just needed a break, you know? A clean slate for a while.”

Logan nodded. “I get it.”

“Thanks for coming. You’ve got a lot going on right now.”

“Non, it’s a great break. And I’m trying to soak up as much time with the boys as possible, so.”

“You do have a whole summer for that.”

Logan smiled. “But it’s a short summer.” He used a fresh cup to scoop some ice into his drink. “Oh, before I forget.” He checked behind him, but Leo and Finn were across the courtyard. “I got us a cottage for the wedding. When you’re not with Sirius, you should come over and hang out.”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

“The boys don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

“How long are you guys staying up there?”

“Just a week. But we’ll be leaving Loops and Cap—or.” Logan rolled his eyes at himself.

Regulus laughed. “Habit.”

“Yes. One that my new team is not a fan of. But anyway, we’ll all be leaving them alone so, if you want, you should come stay? I know Leo will like that. Finn and I, too. It’s got, like, six bedrooms, so. And a dock. The family I got it from said we can use their boat—motor and sail.”

Regulus took a sip of his drink—Logan couldn’t tell what it was with the opaque red cup. “I’d really like that. If it’s all right.”

“It’s more than all right. I might invite my friend Luke and—and Saint.”

“Deveaux and Montague?”

“Ouais. You can bring someone, if you want.”

“Oh.” Logan swore Regulus’ eyes found someone in the crowd. “Ha, maybe.”

Logan looked over again to see Finn and Leo talking to two girls. He recognized their shared glances and the way they leaned in to catch every word Finn said. His entire chest got warm when he saw Leo switch his drink from one hand to the other and put his hand low on Finn’s back.

“You and my brother are still close.” Regulus said it like a statement, drawing Logan’s attention back to him. Then he added, “Right?”

Logan took a drink, tilting ice into his mouth. “Always.”

Regulus nodded. “Right.”

Logan looked at him, waiting for more, but Regulus didn’t offer anything right away. There was a plastic box of cookies on the table and Logan pointed to them.

“Just cookies? Nothing that’s going to make morning skate rough?”

Regulus smiled. “Yeah, just cookies.”

He took one, too, as if to prove it. “Do you think of him as a brother? Sirius. I know he thinks of you that way.”

Logan paused with the cookie halfway up to his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he was overthinking that question—especially coming from Regulus.

“I mean, obviously not like you. But, yeah, I think of him like that.” Logan took another sip, the rum sweet on his tongue. “Just with—Pascal and everything. And I could speak French with him. And we were with each other when, you know. The pictures. My trade. He’s one of my closest friends.”

Regulus nodded. He stopped nodding, and then nodded again. He snapped the cookie in half and chewed slowly.

“I’m glad he had that,” Regulus said finally. “I was just… All this wedding stuff. He’s got so many people.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais. Yeah, he does.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could see Finn and Leo extracting themselves from the girls.

“He’d give us all up for you, though,” Logan said.

Regulus blinked, eyebrows going up. “I wouldn’t want him to do that.”

“I know.” Logan felt Leo’s hands on his waist, laughing at something Finn had said. He had about two more seconds, holding Regulus’ eyes, to make sure he knew. “But he would.”

Even once Finn and Leo started talking at the same time, Regulus’ gaze stayed on Logan, and he gave a pleased, conceding nod.

[iluvchick3nz]

Have another gift that I concocted before the holidays! We love some fluffy family skate!

All credits to @lumosinlove <3

“Allez, Fish!”

Finn looked up at Logan’s yell of his name and the slap of his stick on the ice. Without even thinking, he sent the puck up towards him, feeding Logan slightly ahead of where he was standing to allow him to skate through the pass. Logan spun around Noelle and flicked the puck in a wrist shot, sending it sailing over Leo’s shoulder and into the net.

“Yeah!” Finn shouted. He skated up and crashed Logan into the boards, heart so happy it was going to fly out of his chest. Magic, that’s what it was. They were magic together, and Finn felt so elated to be back with Logan on the ice he was vibrating. He ducked down to talk in Logan’s ear. “Fuck, baby, your spin move is gorgeous.”

Logan was laughing against him. “Merci, rouge. Beautiful pass.”

Finn leaned back to grab Logan’s head and tap their helmets together. “We were meant to find each other, baby. Gorgeous baby.” He kissed Logan’s helmet. “C’mon, back to center ice.”

They skated by Leo, who was shaking his head fondly at them, his goalie mask pushed up over his head to take a drink of water. “Good one, boys.”

Finn smacked him in the butt with his stick. “Can’t beat magic, Knut.” He spun around to find Leo’s eyes following. “Love you.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Love you.”

“Allez!” called Sirius from the face off circle. “Let’s go, we gotta win.”

Remus snorted at him from across the dot. “Family skate is for having fun, Captain.”

“Ouais, but it’s not fun if we don’t win,” Sirius replied matter-of-factly. He braced his stick across his knees and looked at his husband challengingly. “And right now you’re still winning. Logan’s goal only brought us one closer, and we need more to win.”

Remus sighed heavily and looked at Finn. “You have fun with him.”

Finn grinned. “Count on it.” He braced himself against Cole. “Let’s go, double-x.”

Cole groaned. “I’m not even close to twenty any more.”

But Finn didn’t have time to respond as Remus won the face off and Cole dashed up the ice for his pass. Finn grunted and skated hard after him.

***

“You still got it, huh, Harz?”

Finn looked up at Thomas with a grin, sat in Logan’s stall and stripping off to take a shower. Their team had won, 3-2, Finn with an assist on each goal, two to Logan, one to Sirius. He’d felt a bit bad scoring on Leo, but they had been pretty goals. Sirius had a beautiful one-timer from the dot and Finn had found Logan on a breakaway, sending the puck up into empty space and leaving Leo without any defense to help him. Logan had faked, spun the puck backwards between his legs, and sent it right underneath Leo’s thighs. Leo had just laughed and accepted Logan’s apologetic kiss to his cheek, like the good sport he was, but Finn could tell that even he was impressed with how the puck got past him. Logan was fiery always, but especially when playing hockey. It was difficult being on the opposing team. Finn, for his part, had just enjoyed being there with him, playing with him. They had hardly needed to even look at one another yet found each other every time. 

Magic, Finn thought again with a smile. Pure magic.

Thomas laughed at him. “You feeling okay there, all-star?”

Finn just turned to look at him. “I’m toasty, Talky.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “That does not sound like appropriate locker room talk for family skate.”

Finn just closed his eyes and thumped his head on the back of his stall. “I can’t help the toastiness, Walky Talky.”

“Quoi?” Logan’s voice sounded. Finn opened his eyes to find Logan in front of him. Thomas was now occupied with Noelle, tracing her engagement and wedding bands with his thumb as he laughed at something she was saying. Finn smiled at them, then up at Logan, who was looking at him with those devastating green eyes. “What can’t you help?”

Finn reached out and grabbed at Logan’s hips, pulling him in between his spread thighs. “I can’t help the toastiness.” He leaned forward and pressed kisses on Logan’s bare abs just above his waistband. “You make me all toasty, baby.”

Logan flushed and pulled at Finn’s hair to force him to look up. His eyes were dark and his jaw clenched. “You can’t say things like that here.”

Finn just ignored him. He held Logan’s gaze and continued pressing kisses to his skin. Logan was breathing hard and looked around the almost empty room. Most had gone to the showers or were not paying attention. “Finn,” he whispered. “Stop that.”

“No,” Finn said. “I want you now.”

“Later,” Logan promised. He leaned down to kiss Finn lightly. “Time to shower, rouge. Then food.”

Finn thunked his head against Logan’s toned stomach with a groan. “No, now.”

Logan laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m toasty.”

“You’re something,” Leo said. He came and sat in his own stall beside them, back from his cool down run in shorts and compression leggings. He smiled and kissed the side of Finn’s head. “What’s going on?”

Logan ran a hand through Finn’s hair. “Rouge is toasty.”

Confusion washed over Leo’s face before he broke out into a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

Finn pouted. “No I am not, you guys. I am in love with two sexy hockey players. Can you really blame me?”

“Non,” Leo said. He kissed Finn’s forehead. “But we’re at family skate. It has to be family appropriate.”

“I guarantee you that Cap and Loops have-”

But Logan covered his mouth before he could finish. “Rouge, non. Non, I don’t want to know what Cap and Loops do.”

Finn just kissed his palm and lightly bit his pointer finger before pulling away. “I love you.”

Logan smiled at him and moved his hand to card through Finn’s hair. “Je t’aime.” He massaged Finn’s scalp. “You know, you still got it. On the ice.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“It’s almost annoying,” Leo scoffed. He leaned his head on Finn’s shoulder. “You’re just too talented.”

“You know, giving me compliments is not really helping the situation.”

Logan just leaned down to kiss him deeply. “Let’s go shower.”

Finn perked up with a toothy grin. “Yes, please.”

“No, honey,” Leo laughed. “Seriously, if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to wait until everyone’s done so we can shower without you causing a public disturbance.”

“That is kind of my point.”

“Mon Dieu,” Logan sighed. “What is up with you?”

“I’m toasty, baby, I told you.” He took Logan’s hand and kissed over his rings. “You both make me a toasty ghosty.”

Leo snorted. “Let’s go, you pale boy.” He stood and kissed Logan on the forehead. “Shower time.”

Finn looked around the locker room, now empty of anyone accept them, and then at his boys and their retreating forms. He bit his lips and smiled. He followed them, approaching from behind and landing a loving smack to each of their behinds. They both jumped, turning to him with blushing faces; even years later, and they looked at him the same way that they had when they’d been in this locker room playing together, all new feelings and navigating themselves for the first time. He smiled at them and pressed a hard kiss to each of their mouths. 

“Yeah,” Finn whispered. He wrapped an arm around each of their toned waists and ducked their heads closer to his with a content sigh. “Yeah, I still got it.” 

[clickoly]

O'Knutzy Week - Day 1

I saw the prompt Racing on the bingo card and I couldn't resist. 

Me? Watching twenty cars go vroom vroom in a circle for sixty laps every other weekend? Absolutely not. 

Here's the first of five parts of Starboys, a Cubs Formula One AU! 

(Leo will arrive in style, fashionably late, tomorrow)

Characters belong to the amazing @lumosinlove. A big thank you to @oknutzy-week-2024 for organizing the fest. 

A5: We lost

Link to Ao3 here

Monza, Italy

National Automobile Racetrack

The late August heat radiating from the pit lane was anything but a pleasant welcome. Sliding his sunglasses into messy hair, slightly sweaty from a short walk under the scorching sun, Logan took a quick look around. 

The Silver garage was uncharacteristically quiet, with only a few mechanics loading tires onto trailers, probably setting them up for tomorrow's free practice sessions.

The weekend hadn't even started yet, and Logan already wished it were over. He ached to wash away the feeling of too many sleepless nights off his body, to get rid of the latent headache that had been haunting him for days—ever since he'd boarded that flight from Amsterdam alone. 

What would happen if he refused to show up? Would they fire him? He actually considered hiding for a second, just as the back door to the offices opened. 

"Logan?" 

The unmistakable sound of Celeste's voice made him turn around. 

"Oui, maman?"

"Don't maman me, Tremblay," she stepped closer. "You're late." 

"I know," Logan risked an innocent grin. "Please tell me why I have to do this."

The threatening look he earned was more eloquent than any real answer. "Okay, okay," he held his hands up in a sign of truce. "Who's at the press conference?" 

Celeste had a habit of memorizing every single detail of his schedule. "Olli, Thomas, Jackson and Finn," she recited. "Do I have to remind you to behave?" 

"You know I hate those fucking-"

"Language," Celeste playfully pressed a finger to his chest, then tilted her head toward the door. "Go charm everyone with that sweet face of yours."

"Yeah," Logan huffed. "If anyone so much as breathes a word about last week, I swear to God–"

"You will kindly remind them it was a misunderstanding." 

"Mais non," he tried to reason. Had it been a misunderstanding?

"Logan, they want to throw gasoline on this already raging fire. We won't let them." 

"Fine," he gave up. There was no point in arguing with her. "But he better be on the same page." 

Celeste Dumais wasn't just any manager. She was a friend, a steady presence at Logan's side. And she also happened to be the scariest human being he'd ever met in his life. At least when she wanted to be.

"Go," she insisted. The bossy yet extremely loving tone came out, capable of commanding an army and taking care of a wild household at once. "Behave, and be ready for dinner at six. Pascal is taking us to his favorite restaurant in town, and Katie wants to show you she's learned to eat spaghetti."

"All by herself?"

"And with a fork. Can you believe that?" 

Logan's smile was genuine. "Merci, maman."

Down the hall in the Media Center, Logan could hear the loud chatter of people. He checked his watch and realized that they were probably waiting for him to start the conference. 

Media day, real fun. 

The same old faces welcomed him as he sat down at the end of a long red couch, right next to Thomas Walker, Racing Bull's first seat. 

"Care to join the party?" Thomas whispered, muffling his words from the cameras. 

"I'd rather not," Logan crossed his arms and leaned against the backrest. "But apparently I have no choice." 

Thomas tried to stifle a laugh as the journalist spoke into his microphone, drawing everyone's attention. 

"Welcome everybody to the drivers' press conference ahead of the FIA Formula One Italian Grand Prix," he said to the cameras. Years of interviews and conversations with this man, and still Logan found it tricky to understand his thick Scottish accent. "Here are our five drivers joining us today. Closest to me is the home hero for this weekend, Finn O'Hara."

Finn actually smiled for the audience and politely returned the greeting with a grateful nod. 

"Then we have Olli Halla, Jackson Nadeau, Thomas Walker and Logan Tremblay. Welcome to you all."  

Every other Thursday afternoon on race weekends, when his teammate James wasn't on call, Logan was forced to sit through the same boring go-to questions—usually asked by the same three people. What can you tell us about last week's results? What are your expectations for this weekend? And each time, he tried his best to hide his discomfort behind safely prepared answers, carefully tailored to avoid any kind of drama—the very thing reporters were always looking for.

"Why don't we start with you, Finn?" The man, Tom, asked. "How does it feel, as an American, to be able to race again in red in front of the Italian crowd?"

"Oh, man," Finn laughed, and the rapid clicking of camera shutters instantly filled the room.

Fucker.

"This is incredible," he went on. "Every year it feels like coming home. The fans are amazing, and their support means everything to me and, of course, to the team."

Not only was Finn an elite driver, but he also had an innate talent for winning people's hearts with the silliest of comments. Finn O'Hara was pure charm, and Logan hated to admit it, but he had always been a little jealous of his natural way with people—reporters, journalists, fans. Finn acted like he was born to be in the spotlight and, most importantly, on the top step of the podium. It came as no surprise to Logan when Finn received a multi-year contract offer from the most prestigious racing team in the world, the one people could name without thinking twice when asked about Formula One.

Ask a child to draw a car, and they will certainly draw it red—the same crimson as the Scuderia's vibrant and historic livery, the flagship of Made in Italy. 

"Let's move on to Logan," Tom said eventually, his voice as calm and punctuated as usual. "Shall we go back to last weekend? I believe it was a tough one for you, but you still managed to finish the race." 

Logan took his time answering. He grabbed the mic, untangled the long cable twisted at his feet, and slowly pulled it to his mouth, white knuckles clutching the metal casing. "It was," he said coldly. His free hand reached for his hair, feeling exposed by the absence of his snapback. "But there's not much to add, to be honest. As I said in the post-race interview, I got damaged by the contact and the car lost a little performance in terms of aerodynamics," he explained calmly. 

"The safety car he..." Logan trailed off. "The safety car helped. The mechanics did a mega job during the pit stop and fixed the problem enough to let me cross the finish line."

But I still don't know why it happened.

"It was absolutely a fantastic team effort," agreed Tom. "What about your predictions for this Sunday?" 

Logan's lips twitched on autopilot into a cocky smile. "Oh, I can totally see a win." 

"Best of luck to you," the man smiled back. "Now I think we have time to take questions from the print media."

Logan tensed. This was the tough part, when sports journalists went on a merciless gossip hunt, looking for the best headline for their next article. And once again, Logan found himself in their crosshairs. 

It didn't take long for Tom to give the floor to the most annoying of them all.

"Peter Jones, ESPN F1," the man said as he switched on the microphone. "Finn, the DNF at Zandvoort cost you important points in the battle for the championship," he paused. His greedy eyes flicked not so casually between Finn and Logan. "What are the consequences in the close fight between you and the current leader?" 

A subtle question, because Logan knew exactly where this was going. He couldn't help but turn to look at Finn, who sat up straighter on the couch and inadvertently moved a hand to rub the back of his neck—as he always did when he was nervous. 

"Like you said," he cleared his throat, "it's still a tight fight. I made a mistake and I apologized, because..." Logan heard the hesitation in his voice, a faint tremor. "We both lost something last week. The race, good points..." Finn's eyes went blurry for a fleeting moment. "But I have to focus more on the future if I want to close the gap between us. And that's still my goal, so I'd say nothing has really changed". 

"So everything's okay between the two of you?"

Logan had watched the footage in his hotel room. He remembered storming out of his box. He had wanted to talk, to understand. And they just ended up yelling at each other in the middle of the paddock. Fifteen minutes later, the pictures were all over the Internet. 

Sparks flying on and off the track. Tempers flare as Tremblay and O'Hara clash after today's collision, the official F1 account had captioned the post on Instagram. 

"Of course," Finn nodded, a half smile on his lips, uncertain. "Yeah, good rivals and all." 

Rivals. That's what they were these days. Faces of the rivalry between two legendary, antagonistic teams. Names in capital letters on magazine titles and website headlines. 

One against the other.

As soon as they were dismissed, Logan bolted out of the room. It was four in the afternoon, and he still had to find a way to get out of the circuit unnoticed.

Logan wasn't being hostile. He loved his job and the life that came with it—or almost all of it. Even if it meant exposing himself more than he actually liked. 

Just not today, not now, not when the constant pounding in his head kept his focus far away, trapped in a conversation he wished had turned out differently. 

He was close to the exit door when he heard footsteps running after him. 

"Logan, wait." 

"Not in the mood," he said without looking back.

"Lo." a warm hand cupped his shoulder. "Please." 

They hadn't talked in almost a week, a first for them. Finn had texted, but Logan had needed time to figure out why he was so upset. In the back of his mind, Logan replayed the scene for the thousandth time.

Lap fifty, one hour and forty minutes into the race. Logan was leading the Dutch Grand Prix, going through Sector 2 with a 0.286-second lead over Finn, who had his DRS open. At the entrance to Turn 11, they were neck-to-neck, fighting for the apex.

The contact between the two cars happened out of the blue. It felt like a punch in the gut. 

Logan had watched the tape over and over, looking for a valid justification, an explanation. There had been plenty of room for both cars, and yet Finn had pushed him off the track, damaging Logan's front wing and knocking himself out of the race.

"You lied," Logan said firmly, still with his back to Finn. 

"What?"

"You said you apologized. But you didn't."

Finn let out a heavy breath, a hint of disbelief in it. He stepped in front of him, tall and broad as he was, brown eyes unbearably sad. 

"You think I did it on purpose?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion. 

Logan held Finn's gaze. He felt all the tension in his body release at the sight of the hurt on his face. "Finn, I could never. Merde, I just... I don't understand why you snapped at me like that." 

You know what, Logan? Fuck you too. I don't have to explain anything to anyone. Just leave me alone.  

"I didn't mean to," Finn ducked his head, shying away from him. "I was tired of people asking me what happened and..." he shrugged helplessly. "You were so angry and I was furious because I'm an asshole and that was a fucking rookie mistake." Finn finally looked back at him, "I'm so sorry, Lo. I should have told you right away. I'm sorry." 

We both lost something last week. Something.

Logan closed his eyes.

Competitiveness was rooted in his DNA. He'd been racing for as long as he could remember, and he knew he would become a professional driver from the moment he sat in a kart for the first time at the tender age of five. The son of Marius Tremblay, a legend of the sport, following in his father's footsteps. 

He'd come a long way, with ups and downs, blissful achievements, countless defeats and steady improvement. And yet he'd found his way to this, to be a two-time world champion at the pinnacle of motorsport. To compete for a third title against Finn, the best friend he could've ever asked for. The only thing he hadn't expected to find on this competitive journey, and yet the most precious.

Logan had lost a race. That was it, a mistake. He certainly wasn't going to make the one to let Finn go. He could barely stand the idea of fighting with him. 

Still, he kept his face straight. He would never have given in that easily. "Listen," he said seriously, fighting the urge to hold Finn as he grew even paler, the freckles on his nose and cheekbones a stark contrast to his milky skin. "If you're not taking me out for a drink tonight, we're done."

A sparkle lit up those helplessly kind, soothing eyes. "We're not supposed to drink alcohol, Tremblay," Finn smiled shyly. 

"D'accord," Logan rolled his eyes and bit back a smile of his own. "Alcohol free it is."

[fruitcoops]

After Midnight

Annual pride fic is here! I hope everyone is staying safe, well, and hydrated :) Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for alcohol/ light drunkenness/hangovers

July 1, 1:30 p.m.

“Jesus,” Remus mumbled. Pressure pinched his lower back, runching up his shirt; he dug a clumsy hand beneath himself and fumbled for his phone. It took a few moments to extract it, clamped between weak knuckles, but he managed. Handful of Twitter notifications, a text from his dad, an automatic calendar notification, sticky lips and—good god, did his hair really look that bad?

He tried to sit up and was met with an immediate (and wildly cranky) grumble from the concrete slab resting across his belly.

Remus sighed, and closed his eyes. Getting up was overrated. He didn’t even want to think about the state of the house.

June 30, 10:30 p.m.

“AYO AYO AYO!”

Kasey winced. “Christ, Harz, take some pity on my eardrums.”

“Hey, man, sorry—has anyone seen the margarita mix?”

“Side counter,” Remus noted, tipping his chin toward the kitchen. “By the sink.”

Finn’s face brightened. “Sick, thanks.”

“Gentle pours, please. Not everyone here has a college liver.”

“Please,” Finn snorted as he cracked a screw-top open. “You’re all in much better shape than those guys ever were. Knutty around?”

Remus shrugged and took another sip of his beer. He liked this kind—Sirius had picked well. “Went off somewhere with Reg. Probably gaming.”

Finn whistled through his teeth. “Not getting him back anytime soon, eh?”

“Oh, you bet,” Remus laughed.

July 1, 2:00 p.m.

“We should ban frat boys from the team.”

“Mmm.”

“All of them. Every one.”

“Mmm.”

“Or at least remove the—” Sirius paused to catch another mouthful of water directly from the faucet. For the first time in Remus’ memory, his glossy hair looked slightly dull and flat. “—lead weights from their hands, mon dieu, what did they put in there?”

“Hell. Burning, vicious, alcoholic hell.” He turned his head with utmost caution, and still felt a warning throb in the back of his skull. “I liked those ciders you picked up.”

Sirius groaned; Remus watched his forehead bump the side of the kitchen cabinet with a soft noise. “Don’t talk to me about cider right now. My tongue feels like I licked one of your sweaters.”

Remus frowned. “You like my sweaters.”

“That’s not…” Sirius straightened with a wince. Both hands remained braced on the marble. “The fuzzy stuff, it’s all in my mouth. Wool.”

Remus thought it was rather more like someone had packed his cheeks and sinuses full of cotton balls, but sharing that didn’t seem like the wisest choice. Nine hours of sleep. Dizziness still threatened every attempt at movement. The tap turned off and he heard Sirius’ footsteps approach; pressure compacted Remus’ ribs once more with a wobbly flop.

“I like this shirt,” Sirius mumbled into his left pec. His voice was thick—from his hangover or drowsiness or just giving up on English, Remus wasn’t sure. Knowing Sirius, it was a bit of all three. His stubble scratched gently over Remus’ collarbone, still damp from sticking his head in the sink. “Soft. Cute.”

“It’s one of yours.”

“Ah. I have good taste.”

“Clearly.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth pulled up in a smile. “Hmm. Harzy and Tremz are going to be doing bag skates until their legs fall off.”

Remus snorted, trailing his fingertips through the squashed curls at Sirius’ nape. “Not to play frat boy’s advocate here, but in their very weak defense, I don’t think the punch alone did this.”

“Non. Margaritas.”

“I still think Lily poured extra in.”

“Ouais, prolab—probleb—oui. She did.”

A phone screen lit up in Remus’ periphery. He grabbed for it, stiff-fingered and extremely stuck beneath a lump of husband, and squinted into the bright light. “Pots says good morning, and that he’s going to go lay on the porch for a few hours. He loves you.”

“Mmph. Love, too.”

June 30, 11:25 p.m.

Sirius loved parties. He fucking loved them. This was the best night of his life. Second-best, after his wedding. Or third? He was happy when Harry was born. But no, his ribs were still broken then. That had to put it under tonight, because tonight was perfectly amazing and awesome, and James was his—

“You’re my favorite person,” he yelled over the music, leaning on James’ shoulder in case he didn’t hear. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” James shouted back. His glasses had gone a bit sideways on his face. That was fine. Lily would totally fix those for him. She liked to kiss his nose, and she had once told Sirius that fixing James’ glasses made sure she got to do it. Sirius thought she might want to pick something that wasn’t so easily broken.

“Hey,” he continued with a pull to James’ shirtsleeve. “I kiss loup on the mouth.”

“I know!”

“And the cheek!”

“Why are you telling me things I already know?”

“Because Lily kisses your nose,” he explained. Maybe the music was too loud for James to understand. He looked confused. “And you can break your nose. But you can’t break your mouth or your cheeks.”

Finally, understanding dawned on James’ face. “Dude,” he said. “You’re so right. We gotta go tell her.”

July 1, 2:07 p.m.

Remus set Sirius’ phone down on his lower back and reached for his own, wiggling a little when his hips got stuck under Sirius’ torso. A displeased huff followed—he kissed the top of Sirius’ head in apology and let the popsocket slot between his fingers, just in case. He was so clammy all of a sudden.

You Have (4) New Messages From: Lion Den RAHH

everyone not dead sound off

breathing.

Technically alive. Wish I wasn’t.

who made the fucikgn margs

New Message To: Lion Den RAHH

Not dead. Margs were Harz and Lily. You fuckers need to clean up after yourselves.

He had just clicked his phone off when the screen went retina-blasting bright again. Remus let his head fall back against the armrest and immediately regretted it. It took an embarrassing amount of time to lift his head again without the room tilting sideways.

New Message From: Lion Den RAHH

Big words. Small brain. Still drunj

*drnuk

DTUNK.

Three gray dots scrolled, then vanished. Remus smiled to himself. The vindictive part of him was glad to see they weren’t the only ones in Pride-induced misery.

New Message From: Lion Den RAHH

Some1 help knutty is snorng like a fucking chainswa

Remus glanced down. “Did you know Knutty snores?”

“In planes.”

The shallow rhythm of Sirius’ breathing flexed the shirt across his back. Remus gave an appreciative rub along the valley of his spine and felt him arch into it. “Aw,” he cooed. “My poor little hungover lion cub.”

“Nooo,” Sirius protested weakly.

“Poor baby. How will you survive.”

“At least you don’t snore.”

“True.”

“Is Harzy suffering?”

“As much as he can while he’s in bed on a Saturday with his boyfriends.”

“Good.”

July 1, 12:15 a.m.

“Bonjour, hi, hi.”

An arm caught him around the waist—Remus stumbled, but within half a step he had been gathered up against a warm, familiar chest. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, dopey even to his own ears. “Missed you.”

Sirius might have returned the sentiment, but Remus didn’t hear it through the buzz in his veins and the stutter of his heart when Sirius’ mouth found his own. He staggered backward with a sharp inhale and let Sirius carry their momentum. His back hit the wall; Sirius sighed into his lips when Remus dragged a hand through the top of his hair.

He tasted like oranges when Remus bit his lower lip. “Yum.”

“Love you,” Sirius said, smiling. Their foreheads bumped and Remus pushed into it. He was rewarded with another kiss that turned his ankles to loose jello. “Non, non, don’t leave.”

“Mmm, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised through a grin.

His eyes closed as Sirius’ mouth trailed over his cheek and jaw, then down to suck at his neck. “Should’ve done this earlier.”

Teeth grazed his skin with each word; Remus shivered despite the warm night. “Yeah?”

“Before the parade.” The sway of Sirius’ accent did unholy things to his heart. Stubble teased his skin when Sirius nudged under his chin. “That way everyone could see.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Remus breathed.

July 1, 3:45 p.m.

“Did you drown?”

Sirius glared at him across the bedroom, playful and foggy. Remus grinned and took a swig of Gatorade.

“You look like you did.”

“How are you rebounding?” Sirius grumbled.

Water droplets stuck to the mirror with each scrub of the towel through his hair. He’d left it longer than usual in the postseason, fluffy around his ears and neck. Remus was inclined to keep it that way as long as he could. He met Sirius’ gaze in the mirror and took another pointed sip. “Our lady of blessed electrolytes.”

“…give it.”

July 1, 1:30 a.m.

Sweat and glitter burned crystalline in the glow of multicolored LEDs. Sirius wasn’t sure where—or who—the glitter had come from, but finding one culprit in this crowd would be a losing battle, and one that required him to stand up. There was no way in hell he was leaving this perfect place.

Remus’ eyelashes threw shadows over his freckles when he blinked. “Do you think they’ll start leaving soon?”

“I’ve been hoping since midnight.”

His laugh was everything. Quieter at first, a mischievous snicker blooming loud at the end. Sirius let his eyes fall shut when Remus leaned over. His temple nestled against Sirius’ forehead. “Hi.”

The seam of his jeans rippled under Sirius’ fingertip. His quad flexed, and Sirius felt the weight in his lap grow heavier while Remus settled in. “Hey.”

“Proud of you.”

Sirius pressed his smile to a blush-warm cheek. God, he loved how pink Remus turned on nights like this. “I love you.”

It only took a minute adjustment, and they were kissing. He kept it soft and long and chaste, more a series of small pecks brought together by their closeness than anything. The tip of Remus’ nose was cool on the bridge of his own. He nibbled the corner of that grin and tasted bright apple-sugar, chasing it with a flick of tongue.

“You’re bad,” Remus murmured with audible delight, twisting slightly. He hardly went far—most of his weight rested on Sirius’ chest and he came closer without hesitation when Sirius tugged on his hips. His golden eyes flashed in the sudden transition from hot pink to blue lining their walls. “We have company.”

“So did Dumo.” Sirius kissed the roundness of his lower lip. “When we won the Cup.”

“We can’t throw a fuckin’ Pride party and then sneak off in the middle of it. It’s cliché.”

“If this is the middle, I’m sneaking off to sleep in an hour, and you can decide to join me or not.”

Remus’ laugh was loud all the way through, this time.

July 1, 6:00 p.m.

The groupchat had grown steadily more active as the hours passed and more of their friends were revived from their howling, sharp-toothed hangovers. Remus, for his part, had already sworn off alcohol six times in the past four hours. He hadn’t been left this hard-over since his junior year of college.

A gust of wind blew in from one of the many open windows and ruffled his shirt. Remus grimaced. “I still smell like a distillery.”

Sirius (who, despite his whinging, had recovered rather fast) sniffed the air. “Ouais.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Worth it, though.”

Remus gave him a sideways look. “Was it?”

Sirius glanced up and frowned, then set his slice of pizza down. “I liked the party.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” One of his broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It was nice, having people around. The parade was fun. Kind of busy.” He took another bite, tipping his head back and forth thoughtfully even as a gentle blush colored his neck. “I like showing you off.”

Remus liked to think he had grown accustomed to Sirius’ sweetness—to his big heart and kind words, both of which were reserved for a select few that somehow included Remus. Yet he constantly found himself left speechless, cast far out to sea by the sheer honesty Sirius saved for him.

He stretched a leg out under the table and tangled their ankles together. “Love you.” Remus tilted his chin vaguely toward the window. “Here, and out there. For us and them.”

“We should have more parties,” Sirius said by way of an answer. The blush had risen to his ears. His foot ran along the length of Remus’ shin.

“Okay.”

“I want to see everyone, and I want to love you so they know it.”

Remus’ face hurt from keeping his smile from drifting too close to utter lunacy. “Okay.”

“We should ban glitter next year.” Sirius nodded to himself, then nudged Remus’ foot. “And frat boys.”

“They’re gay frat boys, though. They have a right.”

The bridge of Sirius’ nose wrinkled. Fucking adorable. “Well, maybe they just need to pick a side.”

“Lily was partially responsible for the biohazard margaritas,” Remus pointed out, picking a piece of pepperoni off Sirius’ slice and adding it to his own.

“She’s out, too.” Sirius jabbed his pizza at him. “And you’re on thin fucking ice, thief.”

“I’ll pick her party over yours.”

“You can’t pick your best friend over the person you’re gay married to. It’s Pride.”

Remus stole another pepperoni, dodging the smack of Sirius’ hand. “Then I’ll get gay married to Lily.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Any marriage I’m in is a gay one,” Remus informed him, slouching lower in his seat to hook his calf around Sirius’. “I can gay marry anyone I want. I’ll gay marry a dozen people and go to all their parties over yours. Ha-ha-ha.”

Sirius flicked a piece of pineapple at him; it bounced off his chin, and while he was distracted, Sirius stole one of his pepperonis back with a triumphant grin. “Fine. See if any of them put up with you like I do.”

“Thief.”

A foot poked Remus in the back of the knee. “Doesn’t count if it was already mine.”

[kaysthename]

@lumosinlove sweather weather and vaincre characters as nhl clips... i could make a thousand of these... bet you can't tell who my favorite is