#marnsmatts

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

That mo video of Mitch 👀 the focus on ankles makes me want a regency au with him and Auston

maria @eightyseven-seventyone and i were literally just talking about this, so i’m gonna just quote us

this auston quote

"I’m not sure Babs likes it too much, but I enjoyed playing with him a lot. If he keeps it, I'll be happy."

is pure regency hero gentleness. the subtle plea. the simplicity of the emotion. 

like, “if your father permits, it would bring me the greatest happiness to enjoy the honor of your hand in marriage”

then maria daggers all our hearts by suggesting that, meanwhile, mitch was promised to the rich landowner john

me: but mitch’s heart has always been with the boy who works the farm on the neighboring estate.

auston has not a penny to his name, but his heart is big and his hands are strong and built for hard work -- and he would love mitch until his dying breath

maria: mitch doesn’t care about money, auston’s love is more than enough. it will be hard but he’s willing to put in the work alongside auston

me: does mitchell disgrace the family name and elope with auston? do they start a small farm of their own and auston teaches mitch everything he knows? do they work hard, live modestly, and love richly?

maria: in a heartbeat

(mitch and auston grew up together, played together as young boys do, without a care for station. what harm could it be if mitch played with the farmhand’s son?

but they grew older, and they didn’t outgrow it. their touches grew sweeter, their hearts intertwined.

when mitch was promised to lord john tavares in a good match, an enormously advantageous marriage for their family, auston thought he would break apart. 

when he scrapes together the courage to ask for mitch’s hand, mr. marner looks at him with pity. mitchell is already engaged, and even if he wasn’t someone like you could never be enough. know your place. 

auston leaves the very same night. his arms tremble the whole way into the city, but he can’t be there to see mitch sold to another man. can’t watch mitch fall in love with his new betrothed. 

it takes mitch three weeks to find his way to the dingy, cheap inn. it takes only three heartbeats to catch mitch in his arms. 

“ask me,” mitch says into his shoulder. “ask me.”

auston cups the back of his head. “ask you what?”

mitch pulls back and looks at him with fierce determination. “don’t ask my father. ask me.”

“mitch.” auston grips the back of mitch’s shirt reflexively, heart stampeding. 

“mitchell marner, i have nothing but my own name to offer you. but i can promise that i will love you always as i love you now. you have been the brightest shining light of my whole life and i have loved you since i was ten years old.” he swallows around the emotion in his throat and wipes away the tear escaping mitch’s eye. “will you marry me?”

mitch’s shoulders shake with a sob, and auston steadies him, but mitch beams through his tears. 

“yes. of course yes.”

auston kisses him then. it seems impossible that he’s lived this long without knowing the taste of mitch’s lips, the soft give of his mouth, the feel of his jaw cradled in auston’s hands. 

they break apart for air, and auston tips their foreheads together.

“you’ll lose everything,” he says quietly, gazing into the blue of mitch’s eyes.

mitch kisses his chin, quick, and smiles. “i’ve dreamed of marrying you since i knew what marriage was. i’m not losing anything that matters.”

“i love you,” auston breathes. 

and mitch kisses him for the second time in a lifetime.)

[the-ships-to-rule-them-all]

well now I have a 11th fic idea

hockey players in shadow hunters (because the cast went to a leafs game and now I desperately want Auston/Mitch as paratabai or actually more like Mitch as a newly turned vampire who stumbles across Willy/Auston and STUFF HAPPENS)

[arizonatotoronto]

I adore marnsmatts but I’ll read pretty much any pairing and enjoy it :)

Alright, full disclosure: I willingly read Mitch/Auston and Jamie/Tyler above all other pairings but FUCK MY LIFE, DESPITE MY HATE OF CROSBY AND THE PENGUINS I FELL INTO A MALKIN/CROSBY RABBIT HOLE I CAN’T GET OUT OF AND I’VE GOT SOME OF THOSE TO RECC, TOO. 

Here we go:

SID/GENO (because those are latest in my AO3 bookmarks):

To Be Seen Alright by Deastar

Des Plus Brillants Exploits by Twentysomething

And Never Been Kissed by thehoyden and twentysomething

The Limits of the World by turningterrific

A Thrill That I Have Never Known by Mellow_Yellow

The Best-Looking Boys by sevenfists

The Real Thing by sevenfists

The Biblical Sense by sevenfists

JAMIE/TYLER:

Look at the Wonderful Mess That We Made by Sherlockelly 

Door to Door by Ferritin4

Sex Bomb by my99centdreams

We Were Meant to Be Sparks of Light by Linksy

Romantic Motherfucking Best by lightgetsin

MITCH/AUSTON:

I’m Ashamed to Say the Word Love (To Call What I Feel for You) by WordsLeftUnspoken

Warm Waves on the Coast Where We Love by teamfreeawesome 

Like the Sun Shining Down by breakmystrings

First Light by irinushka

Whenever You’re Down and Out and Your Heart’s Filled With Doubt I Will Guide You Through by anonymous

I’ve Got This Friend by Lottieanna

Think We’re Overthinking It by Lottieanna

The Dreams I’ll Dream Instead by afterthefair

White Stripes Blur and Ease My Mind by savedby

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

so we all know mitch is a queen, but he doesn’t have his contract yet nor he is the queen yet. so, we know other teams are reaching out to him, but what about other kings? there’s gotta be kings (or soon to be kings) who want their queen and see mitch. how would auston react to hearing that other kings are reaching out?

(my reaction to the suggestion that other teams and Kings are trying to steal mitch was so visceral, man. i think it would be uncouth and perhaps banned by the league for other teams to be speaking to mitch while he’s under contract. but that doesn’t mean there isn’t interest...)

john comes down with something right before all star weekend, and auston can’t control the grin that spreads across his face when mitchy is named his replacement. 

“the fucking all star game,” mitchy beams, then raps the entirety of rockstar, replacing the lyrics with “all star.” 

willy joins in and they’re both awful, but even as the rest of the locker room loudly protests that they’re butchering a classic, auston finds himself stuck on the shine of excitement in mitch’s eyes. he’s been playing out of this world all season. even if it’s not with him, auston still couldn’t be more proud. it sucks that it took john getting sick to get an invite because more than deserved the spot. 

when the nhl called to tell him he’d been voted in as the atlantic division’s team leader, they asked, since he was uncrowned, if he’d like to serve as King or Queen. auston can’t lie, his first urge was an adamant “King.” but a part of him went “wait. give it to mitch. put a Q on his jersey. everything we’ve done this season, everything we’ve become as a team, is because of mitch.” but what he said was King and left it at that.now mitch is gonna be there when he wears that almost-meaningless K. the K isn’t important, but mitch is. 

auston presses the length of his thigh against mitch’s and sings, low and just for mitch’s ears, “man, i feel just like an all star.”

mitch taps their knees together, smiling seemingly just for auston, before settling, thigh warm against his.

the first thing mitch says when they get to san jose is “do you think crosby’ll autograph my stick?”

auston shoulders his gear bag. “only if you say please.”

to be honest, crosby would probably autograph any number of sticks mitchy put in front of him given the way he’s earnestly listening to mitch during the skills competition. his eyebrows are up like he’s not quite sure what to make of mitch, but he’s smiling in genuine amusement as auston watches across the ice. 

and crosby isn’t the only player with a crown to give mitchy their time. the number of Kings and Queens who go out of their way to find the two of them is wild, actually, but the attention mitch gets from Kings especially doesn’t escape auston’s notice. wheeler ruffles mitch’s hair. stamkos throws his head back and laughs when they talk, leaning close against the boards. and the everpresent tension mcdavid carries just seems to drain out of his shoulders when he finds mitch on the ice. 

and between all the attention, mitch always finds auston.on the second day during warmups, mitch punches the K on his chest lightly and presses his tongue into the corner of his grin. “looks hot.”

“oh yeah?” auston drawls, as mitch glides around him. 

auston turns into his path, not quite trapping him against the boards, but mitch stays put anyway.

“yeah.” mitch tips his chin up, eyes intent. “you should keep it.”

when mitch skates away, he takes auston’s breath with him.

“you’ll be good together,” wheeler nods at mitch to auston’s right on the face off.

auston braces his stick on the ice, awaiting the puck. “i know.”

it’s too simple to say he always knew, but yeah. auston knows. the swell of confidence that surges through his chest is so vindicating after this fucking season. maybe it’s wrong to think that he lost mitch to john, especially considering how well they’re doing, but auston definitely didn’t win that battle. the shoulder shit. maybe losing the K, after just realizing he wanted it. because he does, he wants it so bad. 

“i hope toronto gets their head out of their ass soon, man.” 

“we’re okay,” auston says. “but thank you.”

and the puck drops. 

then the pics of the Q’s mitch wrote on his gloves go viral. 

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

Wow smiley Auston on his and Mitch's wedding day, tying Mitch's bow-tie, carrying mitch over the threshold

MITCH POUTING FOR KISSES WOW

LISTEN YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT but how dare you 

“what the fuck,” mitch says, arms around auston’s neck. “put me down, dude.”

“can’t.” auston doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop smiling. they’re married. it’s real. there’s a ring on his finger right now that matches the ring on mitch’s, and there’s champagne in his veins, and mitch is so fucking light in his arms. 

“don’t do it,” mitch says, but his laughter echoes off the hotel hallway walls. “let me go.”

three more steps and they’re at their door. a fucking newlywed suite, and all the guys had whooped and wolf-whistled as they left the reception. they’re still young, maybe too young if you listen to the wrong people, but auston’s known since day one. mitch is the only one for him. 

auston leans against the door frame and mitch clings tighter, despite his bubbling protests snatched between laughing fits. little tears collect in the corner of mitch’s eyes from laughing so hard as auston slots the key card into place. he grips mitch’s thighs and waist tighter, hitching him closer.

this is it. this is some true love shit. 

auston shakes his head and grins. he’s probably gazing into mitch’s blue eyes like a fucking fool, but he doesn’t give any fucks. mitch grins back, scratches his nails over the back of auston’s neck, and auston steps over the threshold. they’re gonna be forever.

“i can’t let you go, man.”

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

Ok, so I looked at the tags on the last gif set you reblogged of Mitch and Auston and I thought that you just thought Auston asked Mitch who he wanted, but I went back and watched the video again and Auston really asks him that! Like he wasn’t meant to be looking at the names he was drawing ! But you bet your ass he would’ve searched for whatever name Mitch asked for had Mitch requested a certain person.

the sheer romance of it all. the way auston immediately turns and speaks only for mitch’s ears, tuning out the cameras as they turn into each other. mitch swaying into auston’s space

“who do you want?” because all auston cares about is what mitchy wants

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

THIS JUST IN ONE FOOT BY WALK THE MOON IS THE ANTHEM OF KINGS AND QUEENS MITCH AND AUSTON

there's a desert in my blood and a storm in your eyes am i the king of nothing at all? then you're the queen of nothing at all

cross my heart and hope to die taking this one step at a time got your back if you got mine one foot in front of the other all that we have is each other

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

keep the fire burning.

“why,” mitch asks, as they’re leaving dubas’ office, “would you say that?”

he has a button up hastily thrown on over his t-shirt in an attempt to look more presentable when they got called up. called up because of auston, and he knows his own contrasting grimy t-shirt and two-day stubble didn’t escape their future gm’s notice.

dubas didn’t come right out and say that it was because of auston’s comments, but the message was clear, either way. you went rogue. you need to shut up. dubas isn’t lou; he smiles more, listens more, but his word is still law. he’ll smile and nod and laugh along with you, but at the end of the day, the smile is just his way of making sure his words pack a full punch.

“we’re going off message,” he’d smiled. “we have a big off season coming up. let’s keep that in mind. go on vacation, spend time with your families. we have enough press, keep things tight.”

his lips were upturned, easy and personable. “what do they say in philadelphia? trust the process?” he’d said it with a laugh, and looked right at auston, because both of them know mitch isn’t the problem. “trust the process, guys.”

fuck you, auston thought.

mitch laughed. because he’s charming and easygoing and, yeah, trusting.

auston knows the media is going nuts right now. some beat reporter said babcock “lost” him, people are calling for jake’s head on a platter, and now they’re demanding a place for mitch on the top line next year. “but i’m not making the lineup decisions” is being dissected six ways from sunday.  

“i said it,” auston says, shrugs, “because i meant it. we should play together.”

mitch huffs out a frustrated breath, but still can’t help smiling. he hits the button for the ground level.

“don’t.” mitch shakes his head, stares at the elevator floor lights counting its ascent, but there’s no way he doesn’t feel auston’s eyes on him.

there’s only so many times auston can have this conversation. usually they’ve been drinking, and auston can’t hold it back.

(auston pulls mitch close in the booth, arm around his shoulders. “imagine,” auston says, wet lips on the curve of mitch’s ear, “what we could do if we played together.”

mitch grins, bright eyed and toothy. “we’d be fucking awesome.”

“let’s do it.”

mitch laughs like it’s a joke.)

(”you’re going to be Queen,” auston says, as mitch pours him into the hotel bed.

mitch snorts, yanks auston’s shoes off. “you’re going to be hungover,” he sing-songs, sweet and offkey like a tipsy songbird.

“that goal, mitchy. that’s a chel goal.”

just the soft light from the bathroom filters into the room and illuminates mitch’s wicked little grin, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as he says, “it was so sick.”

auston spreads his arm across the bed. “stay with me.”

mitch fits perfectly, curled against his side, head resting where auston’s K will be.)

“okay,” auston says, for the thousandth time in this situation.

mitch looks at him. “it’s not that i don’t want to play together. it’s just not worth getting called into the fucking principal’s office every time we,” he shakes his head and corrects himself, “every time you feed the rumor mill.”

“okay,” auston says again.

mitch nudges his shoulder against auston’s, his smile soft and private. “we’ll get to play together, just wait.”

the elevator dings, and auston slides his hand to the small of mitch’s back and rubs the dimple there, just briefly. “yeah, mitchy,” he says. “i know.”

“alright, then shut the fuck up and stop getting me in trouble.”

it’s auston’s turn to grin like he’s joking. “no promises.”

--

when he gets the call that babcock is coming to arizona to meet with him, he’s on the golf course and not even remotely surprised. the leafs are playing damage control on a couple different fronts, and auston’s sure they’ve already told the media the coach is on his way south.

his mom fusses at him to set the table with the nice dishware and auston doesn’t bother fighting back a grin at how familiar it is. he feels like he’s 15 again. except, this time, his world renowned NHL coach is just casually dropping in for dinner to prove a point to the relentless toronto media.

was auston unhappy about how the boston series played out? absolutely. was he pissed off at babcock? yeah, probably. auston would say he was pissed off, maybe more than the other guys. after months of being politely told he wasn’t going to get to play with mitch, getting injured, then getting injured again, and being held off the ice in the playoffs. yeah… he’d been more than a little pissed. at babcock, at management, at himself.

lost might have been a strong word, but it wasn’t very far off.

babcock arrives in a sensible black SVU rental, wearing a hockey canada t-shirt, and shakes auston’s dad’s hand, kisses his mom on the cheek, and thanks her for dinner multiple times.

“if your future King doesn’t respect your coach, he has to go. he has to go,” was a popular talking point on sportsnet, but auston knows the leafs have no plans of replacing babcock anytime soon. but that doesn’t mean there isn’t leverage in having toronto’s media on your side, and auston keeps that in mind when he grabs two beers after dinner and heads out to the patio with babcock.

arizona summer nights are a little cooler and the sky stretches out dark and uninterrupted. the tile is still a little bit warm under auston’s bare feet when he pops both the caps and hands one to babcock.

“thank you mother for me, again, auston. i appreciate the hospitality and the dinner,” babs says, all tight-lipped canadian politeness, and doesn’t say anything about auston being under the legal american drinking age as he takes a sip.

“it’s really no problem, babs. we’re happy to have you.” auston keeps his face impassive and sips his own beer.

babs sits back, rests the bottle on his knee. “hell of a season you had. hell of a season for the whole team, even if it didn’t end how we’d like.”

auston shrugs. “shit happens. we’ll be better next season.”

babs purses his lips and, after a moment, nods. “big changes coming up. big, good changes, and we want you to be a part of that.”

“why?” auston asks, just to hear him say it. just to hear that the leafs expect him to be crowned King.

“you’re a leader on this team,” babs says, instead, and it’s such a bullshit media answer. auston exhales sharply through his nose and looks over the still dark water of the pool and the whir of the filter.

“i know you weren’t happy with how boston went,” babs continues. “none of us were. i made decisions that i thought were right at the time, but there are a lot of ways to play the game.”

mitch played amazing hockey, auston wants to say, and you wouldn’t let me do jackshit. his shoulder still hurts sometimes, but he would have ripped it out of its socket if given the chance if it meant making it to round two.

“i know,” auston says, instead. even and well-trained. “we have a lot of talent in the lineup. we’ll do better next year.”

babs squints at him. he knows media bullshit when he hears it. “what do you want out of next season, auston?”

“to play with mitch,” he answers, automatically.

babcock almost chuckles, tight-lipped. “you’ve made yourself clear on that one.”

“i mean it.” auston sits up straighter, half unconscious of it. “if i’m going to be crowned King, i want to play with mitch. he’s going to be Queen,” he says it with unwavering confidence, “and we should play together.”

babs shakes his head, just a little bit. “may i ask what’s wrong with willy?”

“nothing. he just isn’t going to be my Queen,” auston answers, honestly.

willy’s an amazing teammate and linemate, but he isn’t mitch.

“look.” babcock clasps his hands and rests his elbows on his knees. “you know i’m not in charge of those kinds of decisions.”

“but you have a say.”

“i have a say,” babs concedes. “and i know you’ve been told more than once to stop reading your own press, so i’ll spare you that.”

“appreciate it,” auston forces himself to smile a tight, media smile.

“future King or not, you’re important to the team, and so is mitch. let’s agree to see how everything shakes out at training camp, eh?”

“that’s not an answer.”

“this off-season is a busy one. the line-up is going to change.” babs gestures with his hands. “maybe significantly. and kyle is going to be announced as the new gm soon. maybe with new faces in the front office, we’ll see some movement on what you’re asking for. if you want something, earn it in training camp. right now, all i can tell you is that we’ll see what’s best for the team when we’re back on the ice. can you agree to that?”

this… was never about giving auston what he wanted, he realizes. this was about a soundbite for the media and making it clear who was making the lineup decisions. and what is auston going to say, no? no, i don’t agree to do what’s best for the team? a King’s job is to always make his team better. auston breathes in and out through his nose. rubs his thumb over the condensation on his virtually untouched beer bottle.

all he can think about it mitch at the beginning of the season. he was trying so hard and nothing was working, and when babs announced the rush lines, mitch was on the right with moore and martin. auston felt the shock of it, even if he didn’t show it.

mitch just nodded in confirmation, as though it was normal for him to be on the fourth line.

auston spat on the ice as they broke into their lines just to have something to do with the twisting, itching feeling under his skin.

“let’s go, mouse!” marty called, passing mitch the puck, and mitch laughed. as if it meant nothing, getting demoted.

auston snapped his stick on his next shot and relished the crack of it in his hands.

mitch drew smiley faces on the palms of his gloves, and he went out to the hungry media and told them he wanted to contribute to the team, wherever he plays doesn’t matter. “you just have to build it back and make sure you’re working hard every day,” he said with a smile.

it made auston want to put his fists through something. he pulled on his gear in jerky movements. it felt unfamiliar, the temper simmering within him. he always had more to prove on the ice than anyone else, but it bred a determined, focused kind of anger. nothing like this need to tear things down until they were fair and right.

mitch didn’t belong on the fourth, but he bore it with a bright grin and outworked everyone else on the team. babcock made that lineup decision.

they lost 4-6 to the blues, but mitch got marty a three assist night, and every time the two of them celebrated like it was game winning goal. auston watched from the bench as matt looked at mitch, screaming celebration, as if he was magic, awe in his eyes.

auston couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it was sometime soon after that game that he started to feel the weight of his inevitable Kingship. it was always something distant. a clinical knowledge of “one day i’ll be King of the toronto maple leafs.” sometime far in the future.

watching mitch fall asleep in willy’s bed after a short post-game night out, mouth open, pillow crease already stark on his cheek, auston wanted the K. maybe not right now, but he was ready for it.

“y’all can sleep there,” willy said, grinning. “i’ll crash with zach.”

“don’t say y’all,” auston said. “you sound like a horror movie hick.”

willy snorts. “y’all can cuddle,” he drawled.

auston flipped him off, and was just liquid enough to say, “i don’t need your permission to cuddle my Queen.”

willy’s mouth popped open in obnoxious delight, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “oh ho ho, by all means,” he gestured to the bed, “have at it, King Matthews. don’t actually fuck in my bed, though. that’s,” he crinkles his nose, “going too far.”

auston crawled into the plush duvet, ignoring willy, and curled behind mitch. he felt the rise and fall of mitch’s sharp shoulder blades against his chest and wrapped his arm around mitch’s small but solid waist.

yeah, he wanted to be King.

they woke up cotton-mouthed and gross-feeling, wrapped together, and they went back out there with mitch on the fourth line, again.

auston played with that anger simmering under his skin, ready to burst all season.

it took losing in game seven to the boston fucking bruins.

babcock looks at auston expectantly.

auston media-smiles, vacant and cutting. “absolutely. see you training camp. i’ll look forward to showing you why we’re the best decision.”

babs looks at him for a long moment. the desert night is quiet, and the dim patio lights reflect faintly in the pool surface. inside, auston can see his mom loading the dishwasher.

he nods definitively, as if to say ‘okay, good enough’ and holds out his hand to shake. auston clasps it.

“i look forward to it, too.” he sits back and holds out his beer to clink bottles.

auston paces himself, even though the clawing, furious feeling in his chest urges him to chug it down and immediately follow it with another.

“now,” babs says, “i haven’t heard how breyana’s golf tournament went.”

auston rubs his lips together and nods. this is what Kings do. they do the hard stuff, even when they don’t want to.

after babs leaves, with another handshake and a promise to see him at training camp, auston finds his way to the kitchen.

his mom tsks as he drains another beer in one go.

“empty calories,” she chides.

“it’s the off-season, mom.”

“i’m not saying you shouldn’t drink,” she starts, and stops as auston steps behind her at the sink and rests his forehead on her shoulder. she smells like lavender detergent and homecooking.

she reaches to cup the back of his head. “okay, papi?” she asks, softly.

auston breathes. no, he wants to say, but that’s not quite true.

he’s been burning up all year, and he’s ready to fight.

“i think i’m ready to be King,” he says into her shoulder.

“oh!” she says, bright and surprised. 

she turns around suddenly to kiss his forehead, cradling his jaw in her hands. “of course you are! that’s what they all said when you were drafted.” her eyes shine when she looks up at him, mouth quirked in a smile. “i’m proud of you.”

auston ducks his head, helpless to the grin spreading across his face. “they haven’t given it to me yet, but... mitchy should be Queen.”

her face goes soft in a way that makes him look away for a second. it’s too much. “mitch is going to be a great Queen,” she says, gently. “even i can tell.”

“the team doesn’t see it like that.”

her brows furrow immediately in disbelief. “what do you mean? they’ve been talking about mitchell being Queen since you were drafted. they’ve asked me about it!”

auston shakes his head, but there’s a well of bubbling relief escaping from his chest. his mom sees it. maybe there’s a part of you that never grows out of your mom’s approval being the best feeling on the fucking planet. his eyes crinkle as he laughs. the team might as well have been telling him that mitch won’t be Queen all season. hell, for the past two seasons. but they’re wrong.

“the media has, but not the team.”

her eyes widen, then narrow at the distinction. “they’re stupid.”

auston laughs, sudden and loud, and he feels it with his whole body.

“it’s okay,” he says, and he means it this time. “i’m gonna make it happen, anyways.”

she rubs his bicep. “you always do, auston.”

auston knows how to work hard, and all of toronto’s on his side. she’s right. he always makes it happen.

--

he hops in the shower after helping clean up the kitchen and his second beer. it may be the off season, but his mom’s right. it’s empty calories, and he still has training tomorrow, and auston tries to refrain from downing shots at his parents’ house, just on principle.

not that he needs it, he just has this weird energy floating in his chest. he’s going to be King, and he’s going to get mitchy on his line. he feels like he did going into game six. ready for a fight he knew he was going to win.

“hey, mitchy,” auston says as mitch’s face pops up on his screen as he gets out of the shower, and he feels his face shaping a grin he can’t control. standing under the water helped some of the strange almost-adrenaline, but there’s still something too big in his chest when he looks at mitch on his phone screen.

mitch’s lying on a couch with winston’s head pillowed on his chest. he looks good, the flush of sunburn on his cheekbones from spending the last couple days at his family’s lakehouse. it kind of lights up the blue of his eyes even more. admittedly, it’s not one of his better angles for filming, but he’s smiling, a little bit of sun-tiredness creeping along the edges.

“how’d your date with babs go?” he asks, scratching behind winston’s ear. “you guys kiss and make up?”

“you steal that joke from twitter?” auston asks, propping his phone on his dresser and toweling at his hair. “and why are you up, it’s, what, almost two am there?”

“no, i stole it from naz. and i called for the free nudes, obviously.” his tongue pokes out as he grins.

“nice.” auston pulls on a pair of boxers as mitchy wolf whistles, low and sarcastically, as if they haven’t seen it all a thousand times over in the locker room.

auston snags his phone from its perch and gets into bed, propping his pillows on his headboard so he can sit up and facetime like a normal human, unlike mitchell “up the nose” marner.

“babs was fine. mom made dinner, we talked. everything’s,” he shrugs, “fine.”

mitch’s eyebrows draw together, then he lets out an involuntary “oof” as winston shifts in his sleep.

“you okay there?” auston smirks. “the dog’s bigger than you, he’s going to crush you.”

“shut up, no he’s not.” mitch scratches winston’s head, and auston wants to just… reach out and brush the hair off his forehead. “you wouldn’t crush the person who loves you most in this world, right?”

“why are you up so late?” auston asks, starting to feel his own day catch up with him despite the warmth in his chest.

mitch rubs his eyes and the little swoops of sunburn. “i fell asleep on the couch after jet skiing and now i can’t go back to bed.” he cocks his head and really looks at auston, eyebrows drawing together again. just briefly, it reminds auston of his mom. “the meeting with babs was really fine?”

“yeah. he asked what was wrong with willy and answering that question took pretty much the whole night, so...”

mitch’s ugly laugh bursts out of his chest. he throws his head back to cackle deep in his throat. auston can’t stop smiling. he rubs his thumb under his lip and enjoys mitch losing it for a solid minute.

winston shifts around grumpily, giving the camera an almost baleful look, before huffing and sliding off mitch and out of frame.

mitch wipes at his shining eyes. “that’s too big a question for just one night.”

“i’ll text him the rest of your suggestions tomorrow.” the warmth in auston’s chest is molten and perfect. he slides down the pillows and settles. “otherwise, i just said we’ll be ready for training camp and prove we’re the future. that’s all. no drama.”

mitch rolls on his side, and auston can just picture the way he’s bringing his knees up to his chest until he looks like a little ball. his 16 pendant spills over the collar of his tank top. he smiles, proud. “of course you’re the future, auston. who else would be?”

“we are.”

“we all are.”

“yeah,” auston says, after a moment. mitch’s eyes look so blue. he’s right, even if that’s not what auston means. “we all are.”

“the thing i filmed for youtube came out today,” mitch says, crossing his top arm over his chest like he’s cold.

auston laughs. “your red bull sponsored medieval times adventure?”

mitch cheeses a wide smile and gives him a thumbs up. “it gives you wings and free tickets to jousting.”

“oh my fucking god.” auston feels his laugh all through his chest. “get a blanket, you look cold.”

mitch gropes behind his back for a moment before he reaches the throw blanket folded over the top of the couch, and pulls it over his shoulders. his eyes are starting to droop.

“i’ll watch it and take notes. text babs what’s wrong with you and willy tomorrow.”

mitch laughs into the couch cushions, eyes crinkling and laugh lines deep as he does. “thanks, bro. just what i want.”

when he looks at auston, still smiling, eyes soft and framed by too much sun, auston suddenly wants nothing more than to be in toronto, curled up behind mitch. he loves arizona, but he’d leave it in a heartbeat if meant pressing his nose into the nape of mitch’s neck and smelling his terrible axe shampoo and the remnants of sunscreen and mitch’s mom’s sweet, subtle laundry detergent. pulling him close to sleep like they do in hotel beds when they’ve had too much fun or when one of them doesn’t want to go home for pre-game nap. i wish i was there, auston wants to say.

“go to sleep, mouse,” he says instead, fondness spilling over every word.

“you too, matts.” mitch blows him an exaggerated and sleepy kiss. “good night.”

“night,” auston says, softly, and ends the call.

before he goes to sleep, he pulls up the video with the youtuber kid on his phone. mitch looks great, all speed and power and fun on the ice. mitch has always been auston’s favorite to watch, even back at the beginning two years ago. the shit he does is magic sometimes. but when the kid casually introduces mitch as the future Queen of the toronto maple leafs, mitch bends away, laughing. auston picks up on the barely perceptible shake of his head as he laughs. it’s conditioned at this point, his need to deny that statement.

auston’s going to make sure he never has to do that again.  

--

the first month of the off-season feels like summer vacation from when he was a kid. really that was just a few years ago, but it seems decades removed from now. it’s great seeing his mom and eating good food and catching up on netflix with his sisters.

he calls the new leafs prospects after the draft and trains, but it’s mostly a lot of golfing and going to the pool. the sun and the heat are a nice change from the months spent in perpetually cloudy toronto, and auston feels like he looks a little more alive now that his skin is bronzing over.

his mom purses her lips exaggeratedly every time he comes home from a sitting for his sleeve with his arm wrapped and freshly tattooed.

“you’re so beautiful, i don’t understand why you do this to yourself,” she says.

auston and bre share a grin across the kitchen table, like they do every time auston gets a new tattoo and makes their mom sad.

she tucks her hair behind her ears and holds her hands up as if to stop herself.

“some of them are for you,” auston points out, and taps his collarbone.

her face goes soft. “yes, and they’re beautiful, too.”

bre scoffs. “he’s trying to look like a badass, not beautiful. i mean, he’s failing, but that’s the objective.”

“what, he can’t be badass and beautiful at the same time, breyana?” their mom questions, and auston grins. he’s always known he was her favorite.

freddie calls after worlds, after denmark is eliminated, and it has to fucking smart to have already weathered back to back eliminations while there are still teams playing for the cup.

“want to make the trip to california?” he asks.

auston doesn’t say no to freddie or the beach. “of course, dude,” he confirms. “see you there.”

he packs his bags and takes an overnight flight. when he walks out of the airport, the anaheim sun is morning-bright and he ubers to freddie’s beach house. it’s not huge, but it’s sand dollar white and right on the pacific, so close you can hear the steady conch shell crush of the waves.

freddie comes to the door in swim trunks and bare feet, and his light freckles are already standing out more across the bridge of his nose.

“hey, man,” auston says, clapping freddie’s shoulder as they hug. “i’m sorry, good to see you.”

“it’s just worlds, right?” freddie says, when he pulls back and shows auston to his room. they both know he means the exact opposite. if you’re there at all, you’re there to compete to be the best. especially if your home country is hosting.

“you won’t be there next year,” auston says, dropping his duffel on the floor, because they’re going to make it past the first fucking round next season.

freddie crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, amused smile on his lips.

“i know,” he says, simply, in that steady way of his. “get ready and we’ll go down.” he nods at auston’s freshly finished sleeve. “i’m guessing that needs to stay out of the water.”

“guess i’ll just have to look hot out there,” auston smirks.

freddie raises his eyebrows. “good luck.”

it’s the middle of a weekday, so the beach isn’t crowded when they settle in. one of the things he appreciates most about freddie has always been the way he just doesn’t give a fuck about things that don’t matter. the same serene confidence he exudes in net carries through off the ice. once sydney explained the concept of auras, how people can sense the energy you give off because we’re all connected. they were a couple drinks in and mitch ate it up with wide eyes, while auston and matt laughed it off.

“shhh, don’t listen to them,” she’d drunk loud-whispered in mitch’s ear. “they have ugly auras.”

mitch squinted at them with one eye. “yeah, i see it. fuck ugly auras.”

maybe there’s something to be said about it, after all, auston thinks out of nowhere, sitting on the beach with freddie in comfortable silence, staring into the blue-green rolling waves of the pacific. there’re very few people who give off a better energy than freddie.

auston can’t imagine going back to face this coming season without freddie standing tall behind him. his heart thumps, suddenly realizing being a King means leading a Kingship. it means the team is all yours.

auston stares along the horizon, where the sea disappears into the sky, and breathes.

“i’m going to be King,” auston says into the silence and the gentle crush of waves. a simple truth, released into the universe.

freddie looks at him from behind his sunglasses for a long moment.

“heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he murmurs. auston shrugs. “that’s what they say.”

yeah, he thinks. but i’m ready for it.

--

it’s not long after auston gets back to arizona after a week in anaheim that he gets the call, phone lighting up with dubas’ name on the golf course. auston answers immediately.

“sorry to interrupt your offseason,” dubas starts, polite canadian smile practically audible. for all the shit auston’s given the front office the last couple months with his unauthorized comments, he really likes dubas. the guys who came up through the marlies have nothing but respect for him, and auston trusts them, even if dubas has been the face of the wagging finger recently.

“no worries,” auston assures him, leaning his clubs against the golf cart and looking over the dips and flats of the unnaturally green course.

“we’ve begun talks with john tavares about signing here in toronto as a free agent,” dubas says.

it’s only auston’s media training that keeps him from blurting out holy shit. everyone expected tavares would sign an extension in long island. he’s King there and… King’s always re-sign. auston would have to google the last time a King willingly left his Kingship. it just never happens.

“he’s expressed an interest in playing with our young core. in fact, it’s one of the biggest factors influencing his decision making process,” dubas continues. “we’d appreciate it if you would reach out to him, let him know what the organization is all about and what you think he can contribute to the team.”

“of course,” auston says, automatically. “i’d be happy to. he’d be a great addition, his play is incredible.”

“awesome, auston,” dubas laughs, the tiniest thread of youthful excitement poking through his professionalism. “his number will be in your texts shortly.”

he gives an auston a brief rundown of the talking points he should hit, and auston hangs up grinning through the shock because holy fucking shit. they might be rolling out him, tavares, and kadri as their top three centers next season and auston has to take a moment to laugh to himself in excited disbelief. fuck getting past the first round, auston can’t wait.

his phone buzzes with a text from mitch and the number from dubas in rapid succession. he opens mitch’s.

fu cking tavares???? it says, followed by a wall of maple leaf emojis.

not a done deal yet, auston texts back, partly as a reminder to himself, but he still can’t help but adding a maple leaf emoji too.

i kno, mitch says. i’m supposed to call him and woo him to our side.

auston grins so hard bre looks at him like he’s grown fangs when she gets back to the cart.

“you good?” she asks, clearly doubtful.

“great,” auston says. because he doesn’t have a way to explain how the toronto maple leafs asking mitch marner to reach out to a possible free agent means fucking everything to him. it means more than getting tavares. if he was on the ice he’d be beating the glass in celebration. mitch is going to be Queen.

me too, auston says. what are u gonna use for ur pitch? u gonna share ur skittles? that’ll get him.

i share skittles with no man. then, idk.. that i’ll s his d? idgaf he’s JOHN FUCKING TAVARES KING OF THE ISLANDERS.

auston barks out a laugh, tilting his face into the sun. mitchy is right… he’s john fucking tavares. it’s not every day you get this kind of chance. mitch follows it up with u should call him first, my 👑.

auston hits the call button automatically.

“hello, auston,” john’s low, toronto-accented voice answers after three rings. “nice to hear from you.”

“happy to talk to you, jt,” auston says, smoothly. “i heard you’re thinking of making the best move of your career and just wanted to help you out any way i can. we’d love to have you in toronto.”

john’s burbling laugh filters over the line. meanwhile, bre flips him off and restarts the cart to head to the next hole without auston. he waves sarcastically back.

“it’s hard not to love toronto when you were born there,” john agrees. “i wouldn’t mind finding out what you love about toronto, though.”

what doesn’t auston love about toronto. he loves its shitty weather and long winters. he loves the sea of leafs blue that cheers them on every night. he loves the challenge of picking his way through conniving media. he loves watching kids light up when they see him and mitch at timmy’s. he loves the city and the pressure to win and feeling at the end of the night when the lights dim and he skates into the middle of the arena because he was the best player on the ice and the crowd roars for him. almost loves it more when it’s one of his friends out there.

“you’ve seen our team, right?” auston asks, and he knows he sounds like a cocky shit, but in that moment he doesn’t rein it in.

“yeah. yeah, i have.”

he sounds like he fucking gets it.

there’s a couple more calls before july 1st hits, and mitch also racks up the minutes talking to tavares. auston feels a little like he might burst when mitch calls him after each conversation to recap.

“he’s going to be a leaf,” mitch declares on facetime, up late again, icing his shoulder because he fell off the dock the wrong way.

“maybe.”

auston grins when mitch’s face scrunches up in annoyance.

“why wouldn’t he? seriously?”

auston shrugs. he more than a little convinced that tavares is going to pull the trigger and go for toronto by the end of the week, in part because mitch’s so confident about it, but. “it’s probably pretty shitty to leave your Kingship behind?”

mitch is quiet for a moment, and he stares off somewhere above the camera. “yeah,” he says, finally. “should we be concerned about that? that he’s the type of person to kill his Kingship?”

auston had thought of that, wondered if in five years he would be able to walk away from toronto. it was impossible to imagine. shit happens, but there could never be enough shit to make him leave toronto. or mitch.

but tavares never had a Queen. maybe that’s the difference. auston has mitch.

“not if it makes us better, right?” auston suggests gently. “not if he’s committed to the team.”

mitch grins, head lolling to the side, exposing the long line of his neck and rolling out the soreness. auston’s eyes trace the line from his jaw to his sharp collarbone. if he was in toronto, he’d trace it with his fingertips. and dig his fingers into the fresh tan on mitch’s shoulders.

“think he still bleeds leafs blue?”

auston shakes his head. “only you love the leafs enough to bleed blue, mitchy.”

lips quirked and eyes intent, mitch smirks kindly. “you’ll get there.”

--

the news hits like a bomb. a deeply fucking satisfying bomb. the team group chat goes fucking nuts, which is nothing compared to the canadian sports media and twitter. there are people burning jerseys and calling jt a traitor. one person reportedly rips the K off a tavares jersey and throws it onto a pile of flaming garbage. auston doesn’t watch the videos, but the descriptions are insane enough.

plus, he’s too busy popping champagne on facetime with mitch.

“wooooohooooo,” mitch howls, the licks the overflowing champagne from his knuckles. “we got ‘im, boys!”

auston holds his phone with one hand and swigs from the bottle with the other. his family are high-fiving all around him, joining in the celebration.

his dad claps him on the shoulder and shakes him. “nice job, aus.”

“yeah,” mitch chimes in over the iphone speakers. he tips his glass towards the camera, and auston feels the distance between arizona and ontario so acutely. “really nice job.”

“you did just as much as me, and,” auston laughs, “dubas gave him the cash.”

“to kyle dubas!” mitch’s mom calls from the background. “a baby face with enough cash to land tavares!”

mitch laughs like he’s dying.

and that’s when the second bomb lands in the group chat.

looks like mitchy and zachy are moving to an all toronto line! travis posts, along with a link. and the other links start filtering in.

auston lowers his bottle to the coffee table, slowly, like he’s just waking up and walking through water to do it.

“tavares likely to play center with marner, hyman on maple leafs” the link preview shouts. and the article gets worse with every paragraph.

he almost closes out when they quote babcock saying auston was on board with bringing tavares on. not like this. he wanted tavares, but he sat across from babcock on his fucking porch and told him he wanted mitch on his line and was told he had to earn it.

“tavares was the islanders King from 2013-18 but maple leafs general manager kyle dubas said there is no rush to name a King this season,” he reads.

“in my experience with teams, when we've rushed decisions like that, it's turned out poorly for the organization… we want to see how the group works together and we'll see where we're at.” dubas said that, as if it’s up in the air.

he doesn’t register sitting down until he hits the couch.

“auston?” mitch’s voice comes through.

auston switches back to facetime in time to see mitch’s dad hand him his phone. in time to see mitch’s face fall with confusion. he glances up at auston, then back down to read.

tavares’ voice filters in from the sportsnet broadcast in the marner living room.

“i just felt like i had this once in a lifetime opportunity to play with the toronto maple leafs, and i had to take it. i’m grateful to everyone on long island who supported me and my Kingship. it wasn’t an easy decision. it was a very difficult decision, considering my team and everything we’ve been through there.”

“we’ve already talked about how growing up in toronto affected your decision, can you tell us a little more about what is was about the present leafs that made you want to sign?” the anchor asks.

“where the team is positioned, moving forward. it was an opportunity i couldn’t pass up. as a kid, you dream about achieving the ultimate goal with your hometown team, and this team can make it happen. all the young skill in marner, matthews, nylander, and everyone else.” he laughs. “i asked to play with marner, so we’ll see.”

auston stops listening at that point. tavares asked for mitch.

auston asked, too.

mitch hands the phone back to his dad, and his laugh comes out a little strangled. “uh, not really what we were thinking was gonna happen. but that’s okay.”

it’s fine. auston sits up straight and shakes his head at his mom’s worried look. he plasters a smile back on. he digs his fingers into the fabric of his shorts.

this is the same old front office bullshit. don’t give the media a real narrative to work with. keep everything as shrouded as possible.

not all Kings and Queens are lineys. most of them aren’t.

“mitch is amazing,” he remembers telling tavares on the phone, suddenly. “he’s creative, and he’s fast enough to keep up with all that creativity.”

“i’ve seen him score some goals,” tavares had said, his bland voice wry. “maybe i can see some from the other side.”

auston doesn’t blame him for wanting to play with mitch.

“just babs being babs, right?” auston laughs and shakes him head.

mitch’s worrying his lower lip. “maybe i actually let you convince me we were gonna play together this time. i’m kind of disappointed.” his smile is almost apologetic, almost turned down while still passing for a smile. “i shouldn’t be disappointed. john tavares just signed with us.”

auston’s fingers almost slip through the cold condensation on his bottle’s neck. he holds it up to toast. “we’re not disappointed,” he lies smoothly. he clinks the lip against his phone and mitch does the same. “congrats.”

“congrats,” mitch echoes, and they drink.

a King got everything he asked for. and it wasn’t auston.

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

For the Kings and Queen AU, Auston always reads like he's scared about admitting his feelings to Mitch but takes comfort in knowing they'll rule Toronto together. That would give Auston some place to start from. Now with JT on the scene, that's gone. How does Auston deal with the idea of Talking About Feelings? Is he scared or motivated because JT might want to steal his Queen but he's not taking Auston's boy.

auston is dumb as a rock

he has no idea he has Feelings for mitch. he knows he loves mitch. he knows no one makes him happy like mitch does. sometimes he wants to kiss mitch, when he’s tired or hasn’t seen him in a long time. he knows the idea of anyone other than mitch as Queen is a fucking joke. 

but he hasn’t put all that together yet. 

(and maybe the future Queen thing disguises auston’s feelings a little bit. makes them harder to untangle. so when tavares takes mitch and toronto starts rumbling about its son, a King, come home to dominate with another toronto son on his wing... auston feels like he’s losing all of mitch, not just the Queen part of him. and it’s terrifying.)

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

How does Mitch deal with the knowledge that Toronto wants a "Q" stitched onto his sweater? Who falls in love first?

they’re drunk, vegas just beat them in spectacular fashion on new year’s eve, and auston’s shoulder is a perfectly comfortable place for mitch to rest his (slightly spinning) head as he looks over the city lights. 

“do you ever think about it?” auston asks, as if they were already in the middle of a conversation.

maybe they were. it’s probably close to sunrise now and mitch had more than a few beverages. 

“what?” he asks, intelligently, rubbing his jaw along auston’s collarbone. 

“being Queen,” auston says. 

mitch sits up. auston’s staring right at him. 

“no…” mitch says, slowly, as if he’s feeling out the rounded vowel of the word, trying to work through the way auston is looking at him, tired-eyed but intense. 

“why?” auston asks.

mitch shakes his head as if it’ll actually clear some of the fog there. “because… because it’s just something the media picked up when they had nothing else to talk about. it’s not real.” he laughs, short and barking, and it feels hollow in his chest. 

“the way the guys look at you for moral support, that isn’t real?” auston says, almost demands. “the way you change the feeling of the locker room the second you step foot in it, that isn’t real?”

mitch shakes his head again.

“everyone smiles more when you’re there. they play better. they rally around you.”

mitch closes his eyes for second, and when he opens them, auston’s still there, still real, still looking at him like he wants him to understand. 

“that’s Queen stuff, mitchy,” he says, softly. 

“i…” mitch rests his forehead heavily on the cusp of auston’s shoulder and feels auston’s arm tighten, steadying, around his waist. he’s either too drunk or too sober for this conversation, one of the two. he breathes in the smell of alcohol and expensive cologne lingering on auston’s shirt. “i need to go to bed,” he says, finally. 

“okay,” auston murmurs. he presses his lips to mitch’s hair, there and gone in a quarter of a heartbeat. “okay, whatever you want.”

mitch passes out in a too big vegas hotel bed and dreams of auston as King, sure and powerful and alone. he wakes up sick to his stomach. 

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

Tell me about King!Auston and Queen!Mitch?

“toronto drafts a King” is the headline that runs june 24th and the weeks that follow. 

it’s been too long since the leafs had someone to call King, and when auston meets with lamoriello and dubas and babcock, they ask if he’s ready. he keeps his face blank and says yes. he’s worked for this his whole life.

“we’ll see how everything shakes out,” lou says. “toronto might have put a K on your jersey already, but we haven’t. so just sit tight and play some hockey. that’s all we want.”

auston pretty successfully hides how that makes him relax, shoulders unlocking just a little bit. 

the “who will be Queen?” articles start shortly after, as though toronto is already auston’s Kingship. he hasn’t even made his NHL debut yet. hell, they haven’t even had training camp yet, but the media are already pulling up prospect stats and speculating on who will get the Q to round out auston’s inevitable K. last auston checked (and he tries not to), most people have william nylander or mitchell marner as their front runners. 

auston hasn’t even met them. 

(and when training camp rolls around, they’re both awesome. nylander’s from a long hockey legacy and traps his tongue between his teeth when he grins. marner’s a toronto boy, through and through, and auston’s pretty sure he bleeds blue. he also skates like a maniac.)

then he smashes the glass on mitch’s first pass, and toronto writes marner’s Q in stone.

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

okay your king queen au is killing me. immediately sent it to my friend when i saw it on my dash.

it’s weird, is the thing. weird and a little bit funny. when the columns and podcasts and even sportsnet start talking about him as a potential Queen, mitch laughs. loud and hard and until his ribs hurt. 

one good pass does not make a Queen. 

he grew up a leafs fan. when toronto won the lottery in 2016, he fucking cheered because it knew that meant they were getting someone with real King potential. they were getting auston fucking matthews. and even if mitch didn’t make the team, he still couldn’t wait to see him play. 

so mitch knows exactly what auston matthews means to the toronto maple leafs franchise. he means there’s a real future Kingship ahead. 

mitch is good, he’s not going to be humble, but calling him a Queen might be giving him too much credit. 

and auston is amazing. he’s a fucking dork with strong opinions about instagram filters; he’s a killer partner in call of duty, and mitch likes his laugh way too much. he’s just… awesome. the whole team is, and mitch finally makes it. 

they don’t start out too hot, and the toronto media starts to grumble about putting mitch on the top line. they always have something to complain about, though, so mitch ignores it. zach, auston, and willy are amazing linemates, it’d be dumb to split them up.

but when they start to do better, and the points start to roll in? they still keep grumbling. and they start asking about it. 

the first time, it takes mitch by surprise. 

“a lot of people think you’re going to be Queen when auston’s King,” a beat reporter starts during the post-practice scrum. “how do you feel about not getting the opportunity to play with him? is this something you’ve talked to coach babcock about?”

“i, uh,” mitch stammers, all his media training abandoning him the instant she said a lot of people think he’s going to be Queen because…. do people actually think that? they can’t, can they?

“obviously, um, auston’s a great player and it’d be amazing to play with him, and…”

mitch forgets what he said from there, but it must have been pretty stupid because it’s the first of many times he and auston are called up to management. 

“good afternoon, boys, take a seat,” lou gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, while hanging up the phone. he’s all business, but he’s not cold about it. “this’ll be quick,” he continues, when they’ve slid into their seats, “we just want to get everyone on the same page.”

“yes, sir,” he and auston say, almost in unison, and auston glances over to meet his eyes. mitch has to swallow the hysterical, nervous laugh in his throat. 

“we want to be in charge of our own narrative, here. it’s something we’ve worked on pretty consistently the last few years. mitch, you’re a fan, you know how it used to be with the media digging out the dirt every other day.” 

lou smiles at mitch as though he’s sharing a private joke, and mitch smiles automatically in response, nodding. he does remember what the leafs org was like when he was a kid, and it was a mess.

“that’s not something we want starting up again, so we’re asking you boys to steer clear of all this Queen nonsense. and King nonsense,” he adds, belatedly. lou looks at them over his glasses as his phone starts ringing again. “just stick to hockey, let us worry about the rest, eh?”

mitch nods. “yeah, of course we can do that. thank you.”

lou reaches over the desk to shake their hands. “we’ll get the girls from pr to work with you on tackling difficult interviews. now, excuse me, boys, i need to take this.”

it isn’t until after that mitch realizes auston didn’t say a single thing. 

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

Will there be another installment of Zach Hyman, drunken wingman? Do his efforts pay off? Mitch/Auston is always the endgame but how do they get from here to Happily Ever After? The video gets played at the grooms' joint stag-party, yes?

willy makes sure The Video makes a special appearance at the bachelor party.

when the lights dim (jesus, they were already too dim. auston can barely see mitch as it is, and it’s a real problem) and the big screen on the wall of the club suite they’ve rented out for the party flickers to life, zach’s already groaning. willy’s on the mic, so there’s only one thing it could possibly be. 

“ladies and gentleman,” willy grins at the assembly of only their fucking teammates, eyes bright. “if you’ll turn your attention to the front, we have a special presentation for you this evening.”

“how many times can you guys watch this? isn’t it old by now?” zach throws an arm over his face. his voice comes out muffled. “how long must i suffer?”

mo claps zach on the shoulder. “your jealousy is showing, man. mitchy won the battle for auston’s dick fair and square. don’t be a sore loser at their stag do, it’s unbecoming.”

“for the last time,” zach yells, “i was never interested in auston’s dick. i was –”

“hey man, auston’s dick is really great, you know,” zach says on screen. 

a chorus of cheers erupts as the dark, shaky video starts up. 

“i love this video!” naz fistpumps in the air, well on his way to smashed, and nearly unseats mitch, who’s perched on his lap. 

“maybe this’ll be the last time you ever have to see it.” auston tries to be consoling, not meaning a word of it. there’s no way in hell this will be the last of The Video. auston knows for a fact that willy has a backup copy stored on a password protected hard drive. just in case.

zach glares out from under his arm like he knows all about the emergency backup. 

auston’s seen the video enough times that he could probably recite it by heart. willy’s pretty much mouthing along with on-screen zach as he slurs out “so, do you not like big dicks or?” kappy mouths back “big dicks are fine,” along with on-screen mitch.

“BIG DICKS ARE FIIIIIINE,” travis catcalls, cupping his hands around his mouth. mitch lands a pretty good punch on travis’ bicep, despite shaking with tipsy-laughter. 

it’s only been two years, but. it’s like what auston’s mom said he called and told her he was going to propose. when you know, you know. 

mitch’s face is pink with alcohol, visible even in the dimness. they’re surrounded by their best friends, the guys they win and lose with, the guys who watched auston pine like an asshole before they got their shit together, the ones who supported them when they finally did. mitch burrows his face in naz’s shoulder and laughs way too hard when on-screen zach insists “yeah, but, you’ve given blowjobs before? a lot of blowjobs? brownie said you’ve given a lot of blowjobs.” 

mitch’s laugh is louder than everyone else’s in the room. connor’s protesting for the thousandth time that “i never said that! it’s true, but i never said it!” and mitch is wiping his cry-laugh tears on the sleeve of naz’s shirt, engagement ring glinting in the low-lights. 

auston really fucking loves him. he’s so ready to spend the rest of his life listening to that loud as fuck laugh. 

“but you’d suck auston’s dick, right?” on-screen zach asks, and the camera shakes violently and goes dark for a moment when on-screen auston bodies willy out of the way so he could get out of the booth.

auston remembers having a heart attack watching zach that night. he remembers basically hoping that zach would run out of steam or someone would intervene before it got too weird. like, it was weird from the get-go and auston had already been thinking about what teams he could get traded to to escape this, but finally it had looked like there was no stopping the epic wreck unless he did it himself. 

“okay, buddy,” on-screen auston says, voice strained, grabbing zach’s shoulder. “time to head out, i think.”

on-screen zach protests. “we’re just gettin–”

“yeah,” on-screen mitch cuts in, still looking at zach. his eyes flick up to auston, head tipped back, and even with the shitty video quality, you can see the heat in his eyes. “yeah,” he says, looking directly at auston. “i’d suck auston’s dick.”

the same hot flare of arousal that hit auston that night hits him now. mitch meets his gaze over naz’s shoulder like he’s also remembering what came next. auston needs to touch him.

“oh fuck no!” willy shouts. “you’re not sneaking off to fuck tonight. kappy, don’t let them go anywhere!”

“i sure as fuck am not the dick suck police,” kappy drawls, dryly, and pointedly sits back and drinks his beer. 

on-screen auston manages to maneuver zach out of the booth while barely breaking eye contact with mitch, but zach really did need to get out there, and after months of trying to get mitch to notice him, auston didn’t know what the fuck to do with that. auston leads zach off-screen and the video (and willy’s background cackling) cuts out. 

“we’re not sneaking off.” mitch rolls his eyes and grabs his glass. “we have a lifetime of married sex ahead of us. we can spend one night with you losers.” he takes a long drink of his beer. auston watches his throat as he swallows. “i am gonna sit on his lap, though.”

“aw, my lap’ll be cold.” naz frowns. 

auston thinks he hears brownie volunteer to take over a naz’s lap warmer, and freddie’s dry retort that then his lap would be cold, but that’s all fuzzy because mitch finally slides into his lap, warm and perfect across his thighs.

his lips are wet along the shell of auston’s ear. auston’s hands find their way under his shirt, to the small of his back and the curve of his hip. “i’d still suck your dick,” mitch whispers, hotly. 

auston turns and captures mitch’s mouth for a brief kiss. “i’d suck yours, too.”

mitch grins, wide and uninhibited, and his eyes are so blue and soft. fond. auston can’t believe he gets to have him for the rest of his life. 

and it’s all thanks to zach.  

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

okay so we know that Auston: desperately trying to sleep with Mitchy. But what do their friends think? Is Willie out there witnessing this Hot Mess in action and just sighing and burying his face in his hands or whispering "i thought you said you had GAME, Matts" when Auston takes a break from pulling Mitch's pigtails

god, willy is relentless. no help at all. definitely not above straight up laughing in auston’s face every time he fails to get his dick anywhere near mitch. to be honest, he makes a lot of auston matthews scoring drought jokes. 

if you asked willy what his most joyful memory is, you might expect something like ‘my NHL debut,’ or ‘watching my little brother get drafted,’ or ‘making the playoffs.’

nah. it’s that time he caught auston in a club bathroom trying to will away a proximity-to-mitchy induced boner. never had willy seen a man so anguished. never has willy laughed so fucking hard. 

freddie categorically refuses to get involved in any way. except for the auston matthews can’t score jokes, those he makes an exception for. 

it’s an unspoken agreement that no one mentions this in front of marty, either. no one wants to test how far the dad thing really goes.

zach, on the other hand, tries to be a good wingman. but how do you hype up auston matthews to mitch marner? you can’t. mitch already knows how fuckin’ great auston is.

there is that one incident, though, when zach gets super smashed and announces “i’m putting an end to this right now, matts. you’re welcome.” then, as it tends to happen when you stand up after drinking a lot, somewhere between the short walk from auston and willy and freddie’s table to mitchy, marty, and naz’s table… the alcohol hits.

auston and co. are watching, horrified, as zach wobbles over. 

“oh fuck,” freddie guffaws.“oh fuck,” auston yelps. hemight seriously need to change his name and start playing in the khl. he can’t decide if he wants to bury his face in his hands so he’s spared this terrible sight or make an actual break for it. in the end, he’s fucking paralyzed and powerless to watch the ensuing car crash. 

willy swipes right and gets that camera ready. 

what ensues is a 5 minute and 26 second conversation (according to willy’s video) all about auston’s dick.

it starts like this:

zach crashes into the booth and throws his arm around mitch’s shoulder. mitch smiles, as he tends to, clearly thinking this is going to be a normal interaction. (spoiler alert: it is not.)

“hey man, auston’s dick is really great, you know.”

mitchy’s eyes go impossibly wide.

“it’s like, really big, i think,” zach continues.

it’s all downhill from there.

at one point, mitch reassures him with “i know it’s great, zach. i’ve seen it in the locker room, remember? we all have. you don’t have to worry.”

mitch’s patiently-indulging-a-drunk-person voice just makes auston want to fuck him more. god, auston is fucked. 

5 minutes. and 26 seconds. 

willy kindly sends it to the team groupchat. zach for real cries in the morning. 

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

i hope mitch and auston are happy u know

they’re dumbasses and they’re in love in the stupidest of ways. mitchy can’t stop smiling when he wakes up to 16 texts from auston about awful memes. auston sets up his phone on the barbell rack so he can facetime mitch while he deadlifts. mitch is the best hype man he could ask for and he sets a new personal record.mitch says “hey, maybe i could visit arizona this summer?”“maybe you could,” auston says, thousands of miles between them.mitch’s voice smiles. “see you soon, matts.”they’re happy. they’re so happy.

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

Omg Auston getting a little possessive every time Mitch sees one of the guys from the OHL that might have slept with Mitchy

auston denies his baser instincts and doesn’t demand brownie give him a list of the guys from juniors. but it’s a real struggle and auston still thinks that would have been the better (albeit way fucking weirder) call. 

it would be way better than second-guessing every guy mitchy hangs out with. and he doesn’t have any claim to mitch (not yet, the extremely primal part of his brain growls), but it fucking sucks. auston’s not the most laid back guy, though he tries to be, and he finds himself making a mental list anyways, scrolling through mitch’s finsta at weird hours of the night. definitely cliff pu. definitely lawson crouse. 

it’s definitely not healthy, but auston can’t stop himself. he looks over at mitch, sleeping soundly in the bed by the door in their shared hotel room, and keeps scrolling. maybe victor mete, he mentally adds to the list.

when stromer visits, auston thinks he’s going to have an aneurysm before the weekend’s over. 

strome was on auston’s definitely list, and yeah, they are all over each other. 

well, they’re not like making out on every available surface or anything. but they laugh way too hard together, and strome keeps an arm around mitch’s shoulders practically the entire time. 

auston walks in on them in freddie’s kitchen during the team get together. it’s nothing really, but it’s also the end of the fucking world. auston’s heart slams to a stop as if an asteroid careened into the ocean and the tidal wave is about to engulf him. 

dylan’s leaning against the counter, legs spread wide but he still towers over mitch. mitch has his hands resting lightly on dylan’s chest, and dylan’s hands are around his waist where mitch stands in between his legs. he has a teasing look on his face, fingers gripping mitch’s skin, mitch curled into him. 

they’re so close and auston barely makes it out of there alive.

dylan nods at him in acknowledgment when he notices auston. mitch doesn’t have time to turn around to see him and auston makes sure it stays that way. he feels his face shutter like it does during media scrums. blank, hard, and unimpressed. he nods back, grabs a bottled water off the counter.

he doesn’t say bye to anyone, beelines for the door, and gets out of there before he breaks. 

the punch he lands on the side of his car door isn’t as hard as he wishes it was. he still has to play hockey. 

he gets inside, slamming the door. “fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he yells at the top of his lungs, violent, his insides rioting and chest aching. he turns the key in the ignition and hits the highway before the tears get a chance to fall.