#or a pre-cupcake giving at the rink

[casualnepotism]

great news for me, only: I’m thinking about my silly little au again 🙃

once again. I’m threatening everyone to not look at this I stg 🔫

The first time Sunny met Cog would have been, if she’d been in the mood to care, concerning. She’d been standing in front of their swanky apartment, popping a tiny chocolate cupcake into her mouth, when the kid had come around the corner hauling a grocery cart that had to be twice her weight. They’d exchanged greetings, Sunny’d choked on the cupcake, Cog’d given her a Yoo Hoo (and who’d known they were selling milk in chocolate form, now??), walked her back to the elevators, and they’d both waved as Sunny’d hightailed it away.

For a brief moment, Sunny’d been hit by the desire to take Cog home with her. To hand her off to The Dads and let them wipe away the kid’s resigned aura. But it wasn’t her job to save little girls who didn’t ask or pay for it, so instead she just drank her Yoo Hoo.

~~

The second time Sunny met Cog was unabashedly delightful. It was two days later, head still occasionally pounding from where the blue-faced idiot had bashed her, when she found herself face-to-face with the girl across a sticky cafe table.

They were at an ice skating rink: Sunny was pretty sure, based on the streamers and the excited-child screams, that it was someone’s birthday. Nilos was being a fuckin square about taking her job, though honestly she hadn’t even really thought he’d talk to her at all (the four hundred bucks she’d handed him was probably doing a lot of the work, to be fair), and she was starting to get pissed. Frankly, Cog slamming her hands on his shoulders and shouting “Boo!” in his ear had saved him from having to get early dentures.

Sunny was leaning back, enjoying the way Nilos flushed in embarrassment at his daughter’s slips of the tongue, when the kid turned to her. There was a beat where Cog’s eyes narrowed, flicked to Nilos, then back to Sunny. There was a beat where Sunny prepared to fight what appeared to be a pre-teen. “You’re the chick who beat up my dad!” Chick? The words were accusatory, which was fair, and Sunny was opening her mouth to respond when Cog’s face furrowed into annoyance. “And you took one of my Yoo Hoos.”

It was Sunny’s turn to look to Nilos; he looked particularly self-satisfied, like it was normal to let his daughter deal with clients he didn’t want. She rolled her eyes. “I remember you giving me a Yoo Hoo. But, yeah. Business, you know?” The accompanying shrug didn’t bother to be apologetic, just explanatory.

“Huh,” Cog looked thoughtful, leaning both her elbows onto the table and settling her head onto her fists. “So, you beat people up for money?”

“Sad, isn’t it?” Nilos’ interruption was muffled by the click of him lighting up a cigarette. Sunny squinted at him and then turned back to Cog with a grin:

“Yep. You wanna learn?”

“No,” The girl seemed to roll the word around in her mouth like a candy, thinking it over, then leaned toward Sunny. Her eyes twinkled. “So, how much would it be to beat up my friend, Millie?”

What?

“What?” This time, Nilos’ outburst wasn’t muffled, and he pushed his plate of chocolate pie over to her. “Here, look. Have some pie. Shut up.”

Delightful. Sunny’s face lit up at the two: Nilos deserved this, and Cog was just charming. She leaned forward to meet the kid, shoulder blades popping as she hunched to get level. “How much you got?”

“Thirty bucks?” Out of the corner of her eye Sunny could see Nilos trying to make a slashing motion at his throat, though it was impeded by the thick cast on his arm. She wrinkled her face, as though thinking over the offer. “But,” Cog’s eyes got big and pleading, and Sunny had to squash the urge to laugh and just agree. “It would be really easy! She’s tall, but twiggy. And really annoying. Please?”

“Well-“ Sunny’s response was cut off by Nilos dropping his cast-covered hand, complete with cigarette, between them. She flicked her eyes up to find him glowering:

“This conversation is over.”

Sunny’s eyes rolled, then creased in amusement as she saw Cog do the same. She leaned back, plucking the cigarette from Nilos’ hand as she did, and took a drag. Ew. “Come on, Bandit, we were just talking.” Another drag, watching his eyes narrow in annoyance. Good. She held up the cigarette, considering it for a moment, then leaned over and stuck it casually back in between his lips. “Whatever you’re paying for those, you shouldn’t. Fuckin disgusting.”

He glared at her, looked to Cog, and then back to her. Cog’s face, an equal mix between annoyance and something that looked almost like pride, must have meant something to him. “If I take your money, will you leave us alone?”

“Dad,” Cog sounded exasperated, even as she stuck a bit of the pie into her mouth. Her next words were muffled. “Quiet part loud. Just say you’ll take the case.”

He rolled his eyes fondly toward her, then scooped the money off the table with a glare. “Yeah, Ray, I’ll find your girl.”

“Great.” She did mean it, even if all she could muster for her tone was a vague annoyance. Sunny stuck out her hand toward Nilos, eyebrows furrowing as he ignored it in favor making sure all four hundred was present. Cog, eyes once again rolling, leaned across her father and took Sunny’s hand to shake; she yelped as Sunny grasped her hand and winked. “And don’t worry, Cog, thirty’s enough to handle your friend.”

Nilos’ answering squawked “Ray!”, and the way Cog’s face crinkled with laughter, had Sunny leaning back with the out-of-place sensation of a job well done. She grinned. This job would be fun.

[nomorelonelydays]

Hey Bee, I'm just feeling really crummy and worthless- like nothing I do is enough. And had an argument with my family that makes me feel like they think the same. So I came to your blog for a smile. Thanks for such a lovely blog. I was thinking that the things I'm going through sound like something shy!sid might also have gone through. If that sparks any creativity in you or the other anons that would rock

I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way!!! :(( I know that feeling and it’s definitely really rough. Here’s some shy sidney, if that helps a little:

Sidney doesn’t date. Spending effort to go out to impress aguy who may or may not be as interested in him in the end is draining, andSidney’s been on enough awkward encounters to kill enough of his self-esteem. Helikes his routines a certain way, he likes quiet Friday nights to himself atthe rink, when all the players are gone and he can practice without thememories of the terrifying jeers and boys trying to break his neck surgingback. He likes the stability of knowing the sameness of his schedule.

Sidney had a long term boyfriend before, and his parentsmade such a big fuss about it, telling Sidney how happy they were that Sidneyfound such a nice person. And he was nice. Nice enough before finally throwingin the towel and saying, kindly but quite honestly, “I can’t imagine livingwith you forever. You’re…boring.” It’d hurt more than any hockey injury,because exactly a month ago, the same man had held him close and told himwarmly, “I love how there’s no surprises with you. You’re one in a million, Sid.”

Sidney believed him.

His parents ask him why his boyfriend isn’t coming over forChristmas, and Sidney tells them why, hoping the Skype call would conceal histhroaty voice.

“Well, he’s not…wrong,” his father says.

Without hockey, Sidney’s always been less than enough for his father. It stings just a bit more today to hear it.

“Troy!” his mother says, smacking him on the arm beforeturning to Sidney. “He wasn’t worth your time, sweetheart.”

(He doesn’t tell his parents about his later boyfriends, orlack thereof, anymore.)

He keeps himself busy with work, running to and fro to keepthings running in the Pens PR team, making calls and not thinking of much atall. Retweeting the player’s Cup days when he’s bored (it’s intern work, butSarah had called in sick that week) and staring at happy families gatheredaround the Stanley Cup. Evgeni Malkin, the team’s captain, holds up the Cuptriumphantly in one photo. There’s real penguins waddling around, flowers andstreams and expensive champagne along the table, and so, so many people, allthe people who love and adore Geno. A beautiful woman kisses Geno’s cheek inanother photo, and Geno looks so happy.

Sidney is a little bit in love with Geno. Geno always putson a big smile for Sidney’s cameras, strikes a silly pose and points in hisdirection so Sidney’s little team always gets the perfect shot. He always staysto chat with Sidney after he showers and changes out of his sweaty jersey, if Genocan find him, asking cheekily, “You see hat trick? Do for you.” And Sidneywould laugh that embarrassing honking noise and tell Geno’s that he’s so fullof shit when really his heart is bursting with hope.

“Have to go out with team now, you come too?” Geno asks. “Celebrate?”

“I have work left to do, have to go home,” Sidney says. It’sa Friday night. “I really can’t.”

“One day I’m find your house, make you go with us,” Geno teases,grinning. For a moment, Sidney dreams of Geno coming to his house and sayingsheepishly, ‘I’m keep you company? I’m little bit tired tonight, maybe we keeptalk.’ It makes Sidney’s chest flutter, but then Geno adds, “Know you reallynot that boring!”

And that’s all it comes down to. They’re different people,after all. Maybe Sidney’s just in love with an idea of Geno. Maybe Geno hadjust been amusing Sidney when Sidney ramble-mocks the latest bizarre concept hesaw on the History channel, telling him, “No, no, is interesting. I’m want toknow. Keep going.” It’s not the first time he’s been lied to. Maybe Sidney hadjust become so unwittingly lonely that anyone who could stand him for more thanfive minutes would do.

“Geno, the rookies say they’re going to find you someonetonight for sure!” someone yells. “Hurrythe fuck up!”

Sidney smiles tightly. “Good night, Geno. Great job outthere.”

He leaves, down the hallway, and Geno doesn’t stop him.

He ends up staying at the rink until he’s sure that everyoneelse is gone.

He skates until his knees hurt. And practices.

And practices.

And practices.

And practices.

-

He’s getting ready to go home for real when Geno’s voicesays from behind, “You lie about go home.”

Sidney whips around. Geno’s in skates too, gliding overslowly.

“You didn’t go out,” Sidney says.

Geno shrugs. “You play good,” Geno says. “Really good. Iwatch.”

“Oh.” Sidney fiddles with his stick and pushes at the puck alittle. “I used to play.”

“You not play anymore?”

“Not with people.”

“Why?”

Sidney bites his lip.

“Why?” Geno asks, again.

“I like boys,” Sidney says, looking at the ground. Might aswell break his own heart completely, there and then, so he stops hoping for somethingso impossible and dumb. “Got my leg broken by someone in peewee. Mom gotscared.” He exhales through his nose, as quietly as possible. “I got scared.”

Geno doesn’t say anything for a long time. Sidney can feelthe tears welling up already.  

“Hey, I should go home,” Sidney starts.

Geno reaches out a little. “Wait.”

Sidney waits.

“We practice? Little bit?” Geno asks. “More fun two people.”

“I’m really tired,” Sidney says.

“Next time?”

“Maybe,” Sidney says. “I don’t know.”

Geno shuffles a bit. “You want eat? Know great place nearby.I’m treat.”

Sidney could eat. He braves a smile. “I have to warn you,though, I’m really as boring as you think I am. I just watched an entire seasonof Planet Earth, so you’re going tobe hearing a lot of that.”

“You not boring,” Geno says, sounding pained as he shakeshis head so earnestly. He covers Sidney’s hand that’s resting on the stick withhis. “You kind of amazing.”

Geno’s hand is warm and gentle against his, and Sidney doesn’tpull away.

It’s kind of amazing.

[raysofcrosby]

NOW THAT I FOUND YOU – M. BARZAL

requested: yes | no

warning(s): cursing, slight mentions of sex, but other than that, nothing.

word count: 5,868

authors note: welcome to my new series :) i have no idea how long this is going to last, but i’m pretty excited for it. so, first things first, considering what i have planned for the character of jeremy, i didn’t want to use a real rangers player. so jeremy is a fictional dude on the team. i think that’s it for now, i’m not really sure what else i can think of about this series. so, oh well, enjoy :)

my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

"I can't take it anymore!" Tito said, storming into the locker room and stomping his way over to his cubby. "I am literally going to take her to the Brooklyn bridge and throw her into the Hudson."

Mat looked up from his skates and over at his best friend as he plopped down into his cubby, huffing, and puffing as he got undressed. He looked over at Anders, who was looking at Brass...the three of them all sharing confused looks at their locker neighbor. "Uh, you okay over there Tito?" Anders asked, looking at Mat for at least the slightest hint as to what he could be rambling on about.

"No clue," Mat mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and looking back down as he continued to tie his skate.

"No, I'm not okay," Tito tossed his sweatshirt into his cubby and stepped out of his joggers. "Does anyone want a newly 22-year-old female college student? Because I have one and I'm not opposed to passing her off before I result to murder."

"I'm pretty sure that is illegal, buddy," Jordan said, walking by and patting him on the shoulder. "Both are, actually. Like, highly illegal."

"Oh, God Tito," Matt said, coming out from the bathrooms. "What are you bitching about now?"

"She ironed my underwear." Tito tugged on his pants over his compression shorts and sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Mat laughed, reaching behind him and grabbing his compression shirt.

"Y/N...she ironed my underwear," he stood up and turned towards his cubby, pulling a pair of ironed boxers out of the duffle he had carried in with him and turned back towards the guys. "I went to grab a pair this morning and I was greeted with this! They're stiff, feel powdery and quite frankly smell like shit–"

"Are you sure that's the soap and not just your horrible hygiene?" Matt joked, tossing a water bottle at him.

"Manchuk...Matty," Tito smiled, turning in their direction. "How do you two feel about having a live-in nanny? Her cooking skills are subpar unless even worse if the recipe comes off of Pinterest. She consumes more wine than water– but she's great with kids."

"I'm just finding it hard to believe your only problem with Y/N is the fact she ironed your underwear," Jordan said, shaking his head. "What's the catch?"

"Yeah, there's got to be something else that has you considering pre-meditated murder," Matt chimed in with a loud laugh.

"I NEED TO GET LAID, all right?!" Tito yelled, tossing his ironed pair of boxers back into the duffle bag. "I need to have hot, drunken sex with a stranger who lets herself out in the morning! I need to get laid so fucking bad, but I can't do it with my sister in the room across from mine! It's gross."

The locker room was silent as his teammates just stared at him. Mat wanted to laugh at his best friend but didn't want to do it at his expense. Sure, he'd been there a time or two, what young guy in his 20's hasn't. But never had he yelled about it to his teammates in such an exaggerated fashion. "Have you thought about telling her that?" Mat asked, grabbing his practice jersey and sliding it on over his head. "Y/N's pretty reasonable, I'm sure she'd agree to go to a friends or something for the night."

"Oh yeah, let me just go ahead and tell my little sister, 'hey, do you mind getting out of the apartment for the night? I need to get my dick sucked. Thanks, don't tell mom!'" Tito sat down to put on his skates, giving Mat a sarcastic look. "Does that sound good to you, Barzy?"

"I don't know about Barzy, but that sounds great to me," Matt laughed as he tied his pants. "Why is she staying at your place? I thought she was in Uni? Doesn't she have a dorm?"

"Nope, she followed her doucheface of a boyfriend down here and he convinced her to stay in his apartment instead of getting a dorm." He stood up and reached into his locker, grabbing his practice jersey. "Next thing I know, she shows up at my door crying, saying they broke up and she's been at my place ever since."

Mat remembered that night. He and Tito were pre-gaming, finishing off their drinks, and waiting for the uber to arrive. They were coming off of a high, absolutely destroying the Maple Leafs 5-0 and that high followed them home. Everyone on the team was going out– it was a well called for a celebration, even the guys with families at home. Normally, the team would pregame together before taking ubers over to whatever club or bar they decided to take over for the night. But those who did have kids at home wanted to stop at home and say goodnight to their wives and kids before heading out.

They were talking about whether or not they wanted to wait up here for the uber or wait down on the street when a knock barely made noise about Tito's playlist. Mat thought he had heard something but wasn't sure if he had confused it with the bass or not. So, he brushed it off. It wasn't until a small break in the song when the two of them could hear three rapid knocks, followed by the sound of your voice coming from the other side of the door, did they know that you were there.

Mat was closest to the door, so he was the one who walked over and looked through the peephole. He knew it was you just based on the sound of your voice from when you knocked, but, it didn't hurt to be safe and check to see who was at the door– that way Tito couldn't blame him if he let a random into his apartment. He recognized the hoodie you were wearing, it was the Beauvillier Islanders hoodie that Tito had gotten you for your birthday just this past summer. Mat told him it was a stupid gift, but Tito laughed, saying that it was his way of tricking you into finally wearing something in support of him since you had stopped wearing Islanders gear the moment you started dating Jeremy last fall. A Rangers player you had met on a girls' night out in the city. "A mix of interests" as your excuse, and Tito was bothered that his sister wouldn't wear his team's logo anymore– but instead, the logo on their top rival.

It was a mess, but one that Mat never, ever wanted to get involved with.

But there you were, dripping wet from the thunderstorm that had been hovering over the city from the moment he walked into Barclay to play. You had the hood on your head and you were avoiding eye-contact with the door– but he knew it was you. So, he opened the door with no hesitations, barely getting out a simple hi before you brushed by him and darted down the hallway, a door slamming behind you.

Tito, in true fashion, paused his music and stomped after you, mumbling about how you were just going to stroll into his apartment, that he pays for, and slam his doors without even saying hello. Mat remembered laughing, just because the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was an interesting one. He came back a few moments later, shoving his phone into his pocket and walked over to Mat. He said that he couldn't get much out of you but the fact that you and Jeremy had broken up and he needed to pay the cab driver downstairs $40 for driving you from Manhattan.

Tito was a good brother. He could be a huge pain in the ass, sure. You and he had had more than your fair shares of endless, rigorous chirping fights that most of the time, left Mat standing there just looking between the two of you like he was watching a match. But still to this day, Mat could never understand why Tito didn't seem all that bothered about how abruptly you had walked into his apartment. Tito had you and Francis, and more often than not, always brushed you off as one of the guys thanks to your tomboy upbringing. Mat had a sister and she's dated one too many assholes for his liking, so he could spot it from a mile away.

Your face was swollen and red and he was more than positive that you had cried the entire car ride there.

And you've been living at Tito's ever since.

"I'm serious, I need her to leave," Tito was following behind him as they left the locker room to head out to the rink. "And I can't just kick her out."

"You literally just talked about shoving her into the Hudson," Jordan laughed, shaking his head. "I think you can do something as simple as, 'hey, maybe you should find someone to stay with for a while.'"

Tito just rolled his eyes as he stepped out onto the ice, skating beside Matt. "I'm serious Barzy, I think she's driving me insane."

"It was one incident, Tito," Mat said, shaking his head. "Y/N isn't that bad."

"It wasn't just one incident," they cut the corner, Mat pushing himself ahead. "She almost burnt down my kitchen trying to make breakup cupcakes. She's redecorated my bathroom with bath bombs and make-up, she even got rid of my Shrek shower curtain!"

"To be fair, that's your guest bathroom and that Shrek shower curtain was hideous"

"Regardless! She's slowly taking over my entire apartment and turning it into her...her...her stupid lovesick breakup reno project!" He tossed his arms up in the air, letting them fall back down and almost hitting Brass in the head. "Oops, sorry bud!"

Mat laughed as they cut another corner, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried talking to her?"

"No, because then she'd get her puppy eyes all going and I'd feel like even more of a douche for wanting her out." He huffed, shaking his head. "I need an excuse, something to just...get her out for a few weeks until I can find her someplace to stay for the rest of the year. Then plead with her housing office to find her a dorm."

"I don't know what to tell you, man." Mat said, skating ahead.

"I'll come up with something, I'm sure I can cash in a favor somewhere." Tito sighed, as the two of them joined the rest of their team at center ice for stretching.

Mat just laughed, shaking his head at his best friend. Sure, if he was in the same position, it wouldn't exactly be his ideal living situation to have his sister living across the hall– but he definitely wouldn't be as against it. At least, he didn't think so.

~

"I've figured it out."

Mat felt his foot slip against the wet tile and his heart practically jumped out of his chest as the slipping feeling. He held his right arm out, holding himself steady against the tile before ducking his head beneath the shower head, letting the conditioner rinse from his hair. He looked over his shoulder to see Tito standing at the opening of the shower area, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, can we not talk about this right now?"

"I'm just letting you know, I figured it out." Tito smiled, nodding before walking away from the shower.

Mat shook his head, spitting out some water before turning off the water and grabbing the towel he had hung up just to the right. He wrapped it around his waist, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair to get all of the excess water out. He almost dreaded making his way back towards the locker room. Tito had been pestering him all practice, trying to make him come up with ways he could kick you out.

Fake an insect infestation? No, then he'd have to leave his apartment too.

Figure out a way to get some flooding in her room? But then he'd have to hire someone to clean up all of the water.

Every outrageous idea possible had crossed his mind and Mat had to listen to it for the entire practice. As if the practice itself hadn't been draining on him, listening to him go on and on was even more.  But, he was playing the best friend role, and did say he would help him on one condition– it didn't involve hurting your feelings.

"Great, you're here, now listen–"

"No to the insects. No to an animal break-in and we already decided that pouring water on her stuff and saying a pipe was leaking wouldn't work," Mat said, sitting down in his locker and looking at Tito. "What in the hell could you have come up with now?"

"Remember how I said I could cash in a favor?"

Mat nodded, standing up and grabbing his street clothes as he turned his back to Tito. "Yeah, did you figure it out?"

"I sure did."

Mat stepped into his boxer briefs and dropped the towel as he picked up his joggers. "All right? And who's the poor sucker?" Tito hadn't replied as fast as he had been and Mat would be lying if he said it wasn't a little concerning. He tugged the waistband of his joggers up before turning to see Tito smiling at him. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the poor sucker who owes me a favor." He had his classic shit-eating smirk on his face, the kind cameras always zoomed in the moment he checked someone hard.

Mat blinked once, twice, three times before the reality set in. His brain was racing through every recent time he spent with Tito, never once remembering an event where he said that he owed him a favor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You owe me a–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you said," Mat put his arms through his sweatshirt, tugging his down and over his head before running his fingers through his hair again. "But I don't know what you're talking about. When did I ever owe you a favor?"

"When I saved your ass that night at Nest when you were picking up the redhead but that hot tinder girl with blue hair you invited showed up." Tito stood up and walked over to Mat, still smiling. "I performed the perfect, switcharoo maneuver so that the redhead never noticed you took tinder girl home."

"You took the redhead home! How is that helping me?" Mat turned towards his locker and grabbed his phone and Gatorade, shaking his head. "Besides, that was two years ago."

"It was a win for both of us! You didn't get totally bitchslapped in the club and I got laid," Tito followed behind him, staying on his heels. "It may have been two years ago, but you still said, 'Tito, man...I owe you one.'"

"I don't–"

Tito cut him off, standing in front of him as they stood in the hall. He crossed his arms, his smile falling from his face. "And now I'm cashing it in. You're helping me get Y/N out of my apartment."

Mat rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. "And how exactly am I supposed to help you with that? You've literally exhausted every plausible option." When Tito didn't come up with a reply, Mat just shook his head and brushed by him.

"I've got an idea bro, I swear," He jogged up behind him as they walked out of the arena to head towards the parking lot. "But, you're probably not going to like it."

As the crisp fall air greeted them, Mat could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him not to entertain Tito. A gut feeling deep inside that this wasn't going to work out– none of Tito's ideas ever worked out. "What is it?"

Tito hesitated, unsure just how his best friend would reply. Sure, he's had plenty of other crazy ideas before– but this one might just be way out there. But he didn't care, he was a young, physical and thriving man in his early 20's– and at this point, he didn't care about logical reasoning. He just desperately needed to get laid. And if that meant brushing his sister off onto his best friend, he'd do it.

"You're going to pretend you're utterly heartbroken from some break up and can't be alone–"

Mat stopped in his tracks, whipping around to Tito with wide eyes. "Dude what the–"

"Y/N is a total empath and when I tell her all about your emotional turmoil and that I don't know how to help, she'll no doubt step in. Then I'll just figure something out to keep her out of my apartment and boom, problem solved."

"Problem not solved!" Mat yelled, waving his hand at Tito. "Your problem literally has about a million plot holes in it!"

Tito closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing before opening them and looking at Mat. "I'm going to need you to hear me out before you say no– which, may I remind you, isn't an option anyway."

Mat took a deep breath and sighed, knowing damn well that somewhere down the line, he'd regret this very moment he even gave Tito the chance to explain. Even his initial explanation seemed so fucking stupid that there was no way it could ever work out. But maybe, if he allowed him to explain, he'd realize just how unrealistic his plan was, and just drop the entire idea then man up and tell Y/N to stay with a friend. "Fine," he stopped at his car, unlocking it so Tito could get into the passenger seat. "But you're buying lunch."

~

This was such a bad idea– he knew it would be. From the moment the suggestion left Tito's mouth the first time, Mat knew it wouldn't work. There's no way it could. Hell, even Liana said it was when he called her for advice after his lunch. And as far as common sense goes, he likes to think that Liana has a lot more

Tito's plan stayed the same– Mat was supposed to play brokenhearted and after lunch, the two of them would go over to his apartment, where you would be home from class. Tito would comment on how Mat 'hasn't been the same' and make a joke about how the two of you should just live together in your misery. You, the empath that you were, would take an interest in Mat's "broken heart" and offer to help in any way. Tito, knowing Mat was actually in the middle of turning the third guest bedroom in his apartment into a man-cave/gaming room and how much you love decorating, I.E. his bathroom, would suggest that maybe you could help him with that too.

It wouldn't work, Mat was convinced of that from the moment the entire idea left Tito's mouth. He'd known you almost as long as he knew Tito, meeting you the summer after the 2015 IIHF World U18 Championship. You were only a year younger than them both and for the three weeks that Mat had stayed with your family, he felt like he got to know you pretty well. You guys weren't best friends by any means, but you were definitely good friends. Your friendship growing when you decided to transfer to Fordham and when you weren't hanging out with Jeremy or your classmates, you were with Tito, Mat, and their teammates.

Needless to say, he was confident walking into the apartment knowing that there was no way that you would fall for this horrible excuse. You wouldn't leave your room in Tito's apartment to come and stay with Mat because he was "too brokenhearted to function." But leave it to Tito to think that you would fall for it. He tried not to break character, he really did. But how the hell was he supposed to pretend to be brokenhearted from a failed relationship, when he's never felt that?

He's had relationships before, sure. Break-ups? Absolutely. But none so bad that he felt like he wanted to drink himself into a slumber or just hide under the covers for the rest of time. He had outlets to get out any negative emotion. He had hockey and he had the boxing classes he attended with Tito every now and again. Besides that, he never had strong feelings for someone to the point where he was feeling what you were feeling.

As predicted, you had agreed to go with Tito and Mat over to Mat's apartment to see just what he had to deal with. He felt a twinge of guilt when you started to ask the simple questions:

How are you feeling?

Do you want to talk about it?

What happened?

He and Tito hadn't gotten that far in the plan– creating a backstory, which should have been another sign that this was never going to end well. So, on the ride to his apartment, he just stuck with short answered replies– "fine" "not yet" "it's still too soon." And he wanted nothing more than to smack Tito in the passenger seat, who was trying his damndest not to laugh.

When they got to the apartment hours later, Mat led you to the third guest room, showing you just everything he had. In a corner on tarps, he had three cans of paint, all unopened and a bunch of painting supplies. In the middle of the room, boxed furniture he'd been too lazy to move. He was barely focused on what you were saying when he felt his phone vibrate and saw Tito nodding at him.

Tito: see? i told u. total diy/renovator. you could get free labor out of this.

Mat: one problem there, bud. she doesn't seem too keen to get out of your apartment. all she's done is offer to take me to lunch for the next week to 'talk about my feelings'

Tito: okay? go talk about your feelings.

Mat: I DON'T HAVE ANY FEELINGS

Mat: I DON'T HAVE A RECENT EX-GIRLFRIEND

"Are you two okay?" You asked, almost scaring the two boys. Mat shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, staring at you with wide eyes. You had an eyebrow raised and looked awfully suspicious of them both.

"Do you guys want dinner?" Tito asked, already heading towards the door. "I can order some pizzas from down the street."

"That's okay," You said, following him towards the door. "I've got this new enchilada recipe I wanted to try and–"

"No!" Tito couldn't be any less obvious that he didn't want you to follow him, his raised voice causing you to step back and look at him in shock. "I uh, I mean...I already ordered them. Barzy and I talked about it...right?"

Mat glared at Tito, wishing deep down that this plan would fail, but knowing that he couldn't leave his best friend out to dry. "Yeah...we did." He turned to you, crossing his arms. "Hope that's okay."

"No, it's fine," you replied, nodding. "Pizza is good."

Tito clapped his hands together and smiled. "Great, I'll be right back!"

He couldn't have run out of the apartment any faster, leaving you and Mat there standing in the middle of the room. This wasn't part of the plan and Mat was pissed. He stared at the door, contemplating telling you about your brother's ulterior motive to all of this– but it wouldn't hurt Tito...it would hurt you. So he decided against it and turned to you, sighing. "We can go wait in the living room for him to come back."

You nodded and followed him out of the guest room, walking down the hallway. "Can I have something to drink?"

"Water? Wine?" He asked, waving you over to the couch as he stopped in the kitchen. "Tequila?" God, how he wanted a drink. At least it might alleviate the headache Tito's antics were causing.

"It's Monday," you laughed, leaning against the back of the couch. "I guess I could go for some wine."

"White or Red?"

"You have both?"

He laughed, turning around and placing two unopened bottles– one of each. "My mom likes red, I like white. It's her leftover bottle from when she was here a two weeks ago."

"I'll take a glass of white, thank you."

He nodded, putting the bottle of red back into the fridge before moving towards his cabinets and opening the drinking glasses– reaching up to the top and grabbing two wine glasses. When he turned back around, he looked over at you, ready to say something, but he stopped.

You were still leaning against the back of his couch, left arm draped across your stomach as the other held onto your phone. You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes glued to the screen. He normally wouldn't think anything of it, except for the look on your face. Even from where he was standing, he could notice the frown and the way that your eyebrows were burrowed towards each other. He noticed your fingers on your left hand were fidgeting, plucking at your Fordham long sleeve. Everything about you standing there was just...small, quiet– radiating energy that said, 'I don't want anyone to see me.' Which, in all of the years that he knew you, was the complete opposite of who you were.

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Jeremy did to screw you up this bad.

He poured your glasses, putting the cork back into the bottle, and made his way to you. You were so lost in your phone, that it wasn't until he cleared his throat, that you realized he was standing there.

"Oh," you stood up a little straighter, putting your phone into your front pocket before taking the wine glass from him. "Sorry, I was just..."

"No need," he said, waving you off. "I don't need an explanation." He walked around the couch and sat down, nodding at you to join him.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before sitting down beside him, sinking back against the cushion. "So, Tito hasn't tried taking you to a strip club to help you out of your breakup funk?"

Mat laughed, his head leaning back against the cushion. "No, he hasn't," he took a sip of the wine, tilting his head to the side. "I don't think he'd leave if he did."

"He tried to offer to drop me off at that knockoff Magic Mike, two days ago." He looked at you like you had two heads, his mind spinning in circles at just how long Tito has been trying to get you out of his apartment. "It didn't work, it's not my scene."

"Male strippers?"

"Male strippers that aren't the cast of Magic Mike," you joked, laughing softly as you stared down into your wine. "I don't know, I just haven't really been in the mood to do anything besides go to class and sleep."

He wasn't sure how to reply. Even with Liana, he'd never really been that open with talking to her about his relationships or hers. That was a no-touch topic in their siblingship– only ever talking about it, just to say that they were seeing someone new. Never what happened during or after. Not to mention, he was supposed to be like you, heartbroken. He tried to copy your mannerisms– slumped into the couch, relaxed face– he even went as far as to try and tell himself to copy the tone in your voice.

But all he felt was guilt for playing into Tito's scheme and a genuine need to talk to you about what happened. He just didn't know how to go about it.

Your phone rang before he could ask you the dreaded 'how are you feeling' question, and you sighed, digging your phone out of your pocket and putting your wine glass down on the table. "What, Anthony?"

Mat held back his laughter as he took a sip of his wine. One thing was for sure, your attitude towards your brother hadn't changed from pre-breakup. He looked at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you brought your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it. "What do you mean? Is my stuff–" you sighed, closing your eyes. "No, you won't get electrocuted if you–"

He reached out, bumping his elbow against yours and raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

You looked at him, shaking your head as you pulled your phone away from your ear. "He forgot his wallet at home and went back to the apartment– I guess something leaked and my bathroom and room are flooded."

Mat had to act like he was surprised, but if anything he was pissed. This was the one scenario that they didn't agree on– simply because it wasn't fucking plausible. "Well have you talked to him? Maybe there's–"

Your head fell back against the cushion and you closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't leave a faucet on, I didn't even go into my bathroom before we– can you stop interrupting me?"

He could hear Tito rambling on through the other side of the phone, no doubt barely giving you time to talk because he didn't want you to fill in the gaps of his fake story. "Well, where am I supposed to go?"

Mat chewed on his bottom lip, bringing the glass up to his lips as he knew this was when Tito was suggesting that you stay with him. He couldn't look at you because the guilt was taking over. He could tell you were stressed and obviously, Tito hadn't been exaggerating at just how bad you were after the breakup with Jeremy. And if he looked at you any longer, the guilt would swallow him up and he'd cave in and tell you everything.

"No, I'm not asking–" you sighed, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling before speaking again. "Because Anthony, it's rude! "

Mat felt like reaching over and grabbing your phone, ending the plan then and there. But again, he knew that the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was a lot different than any other one. Tito knew when to stop pushing, you were his sister after all. So, he sat next to you, sipping on his wine and waited for you to ask the question they'd been pushing you to do all along.

"Can you just...ask, please?" His eyes went wide the moment he heard the emotion in your whispered reply. "I can't just...move everything, I don't even have everything. It's all at Jer–" you stopped yourself, sitting up and hunching over, resting your head in your free hand. "And he said that's all that was available?"

He kept sneaking looks at you from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge whether or not the emotion in your voice was leading to tears. He brought his phone out of his jacket, opening to type a message to Tito.

"Fine, I'll...I'll just ask," he froze as you turned to him, holding your phone away from your ear. "Hey Mat?"

He placed his phone face down and away from your sight of vision you couldn't see that he was about to send a text to Tito. "Yeah?" Yikes, that wasn't casual enough. "What's up?" Better.

You were holding back tears and for the first time, he could see the dark circles beneath your eyes, still peaking out from whatever make-up you had put on that morning. Yeah, this plan wasn't good– this on was definitely a punch in the gut. "Do you think I could stay here? I don't have much and I–"

"Yeah, no," he cleared his throat. "No, I mean yeah...you can. I've got the guest bedroom."

You nodded, looking away from him and brought the phone back up to your ear. "There, happy?"

Oh, you have no idea how happy Tito was, was all that Mat could think as he brought his phone back out. "Can I at least come and get some stuff to– Yeah...okay. Yeah, see you."

You hung up the phone and your head fell back against the cushion, eyes closed. Mat looked at you, wondering whether or not he should dare to see if you were okay. He started to reach a hand out to nudge your arm when his phone vibrated.

Tito: IT WORKED! I'M FREE!

Tito: well...at least for the next week i am. i’ll need to figure out another excuse for the extra week i guess.

Mat: dude...i don't think this is a good idea. y/n's like...really emotional right now.

Tito: AND I'M GOING ON A TWO WEEK DRYSPELL.

Mat: okay, get laid tonight and let her come back.

Tito: nope. i'm using all seven days of this time and look on the bright side, now you'll get the guestroom done faster than you planned.

Mat: are you at least coming back with the pizza?

Tito: no, just her clothes. caroline is coming over in an hour.

He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head as he looked at you– still lying in the same position from when you hung up the phone.

Mat: dude, you so owe me one.

Tito: 👍🏻

Mat put his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned to you. He was sure that the movement on the couch would have been enough to get you to open your eyes– but you didn't budge. He reached out and nudged your arm and you opened your eyes and turned to look at him. "What do you think about Chinese?"

"Let me guess, he's not getting the pizza?" You asked, drained of any energy.

Mat bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "No, he said they were packed," the lie was a lot better than telling her the truth. "If you're not feeling Chinese, we can go to Chipotle?"

"I don't know," you sighed, picking up the wine glass and taking a long sip. "Do you think we'd miss him?"

Not in a million years. Even if they did, he'd just drop the bag of belongings in front of Mat's door, no doubt.

"I'll buy you a large guac and a large queso," He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Free of charge."

"You had me at large guac." You looked at him and then back at your wine glass, downing the rest before placing it back onto the table and turning towards Mat. "Besides, he's the one who didn't bother to offer me the couch in the new 1 bedroom he'd be staying in until everything is fixed. He can wait a few extra minutes if we're not back in time."

Mat just nodded, standing up with you and playing into your mood. "Yeah, fuck that guy."

You laughed, and for the first time since he walked into yours and Tito’s apartment...he saw you smile. He felt proud of himself for being able to cheer you up in some way. And maybe, he thought, if Tito wasn't going to look out for you...he could.

It was only for seven days, how bad could it be?