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thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 months ago

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a/n: happy january! for @wyattjohnston ‘s 2025 winter fic exchange i got @tkwrites and this was my first exposure to sean durzi! i hope you enjoy the fic and the vibes are suitably cozy 🥰

word count: 5.5k

tw: friends to lovers, kissing, no smut

summary: lizzie arnold decides to surprise her best friend for christmas, but she could never have imagined how the holiday season would shake out

Elizabeth Arnold is having the travel day from hell.

A flight from Phoenix to Salt Lake City should only be an hour and forty five minutes. But when you add in mechanical failure, overbooking, and icy weather in the destination state, suddenly the quick trip turns into a logistical nightmare and she’s being rebooked on a flight that has a stopover in Los Angeles, adding nearly four hours to her travel itinerary.

Four hours on top of the three she’s already been wasting sitting in the Phoenix airport due to delays.

Honestly, it would’ve been faster to just drive to Salt Lake City at this point.

She pulls up Google Maps on her phone and taps in Sean’s address, just to see. Oh, more than ten hours of driving from the Phoenix airport. Actually, maybe she will just take the flight delays. At least it means she can just sit back and go where the airlines tell her, instead of having to focus on the roads.

She can’t even text Sean to tell him about all the airport bingo spaces she’s hitting - delayed flight, toddler throwing a tantrum in the middle of the terminal, fourteen freaking dollar bag of almonds, woman completely overdressed for the flight - since her trip to Utah is a surprise.

With her two week Christmas break, she’d made the executive decision to work remote for the couple of days before Christmas and fly out to Utah to surprise her best friend since he’s been in a mood for months as he rehabs a shoulder injury.

Lizzie figures that she might as well spend the holidays with Sean since her own family is scattered to the four corners of the US and she doesn’t feel like deciding which parent she’ll see. When she’d told her mom she wouldn’t be coming to Boston for Christmas, her mom’s immediate reaction had been to blame her dad for monopolizing her time. Not that explaining she wasn’t seeing her dad in Dallas for Christmas either had stopped her mom’s rant. Nearly ten years divorced and both her parents still hated each other.

Her dad had taken it slightly better, assuming she was going to spend the holidays with her sister Jane in Seattle. Nope - Jane was going to her fiancé’s family’s place in the Adirondacks. Lizzie hadn’t been invited. Which was fine. No, really it’s fine. Lizzie doesn’t want to spend the holidays with her bossy older sister anyway.

It might’ve been nice to be wanted though. Not that Lizzie will admit that.

Her younger sister, Cath, is somewhere in Los Angeles trying to make it as an actress. She’s not entirely successful since she hits up Lizzie for money every few months, but Lizzie did spot her in an episode of FBI: Most Wanted, as a bystander running from an exploded building, so she supposes that’s a start.

Needless to say, spending any sort of holiday time with her family is a non-starter.

And something about the life she’s living in Phoenix isn’t making her happy any more, so she’s more than happy to pack up and spend some time in Utah with Sean. He can’t really do anything physical that would set his shoulder rehab back, but maybe she can convince him to come along to the slopes anyway and sit in front of a fire while she skis.

Her flight is announced and she hefts her carry-on to her shoulder and treks down a few gates to stand in line and scan her boarding pass. It’s a packed flight and of course she’s wedged into a middle seat, fighting for elbow room. Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths - she hates meditating and has never been good at it - Lizzie clamps her AirPod Maxes over her ears and tunes out everything around her until the plane lands at LAX.

Where she’s greeted by another flight delay because of bad weather in Salt Lake City.

Honestly, fuck Gary Bettman and Alex Meruelo. Life had been much easier when the Coyotes and Sean were in her neighborhood and not a nightmare travel day away.

When she finally lands in Utah, Lizzie nearly sprints off the plane and books it for the Enterprise kiosk so she can pick up her rental car. They upsell her on a Chevy Tahoe that’s probably way too big for her to drive, but has excellent capabilities for snow driving, per Andy at the desk, so Lizzie figures better safe than sorry. As a Maryland native, she’s no stranger to driving in snow, but it’s also been a good eight years since she had to do it regularly.

Last year, when she visited her mom and stepdad in Boston, Mitch had insisted on driving everywhere, even though Lizzie was twenty-five and more than capable of navigating her mother’s Hyundai through the streets.

When she emerges from the airport, the Tahoe’s keys jangling in her gloved hand, Lizzie gasps at the sudden hit of cold air. It’s crisp and clean and it hurts her face in the best possible way.

Phoenix is great, but there’s nothing like the cold weather to get her in the mood for Christmas.

She wrangles her two (overstuffed) suitcases and carry-on into the Tahoe and plugs Sean’s address into the built-in GPS. He lives just fifteen minutes from the airport, but since it’s still actively snowing, Lizzie is barely going thirty miles an hour and it takes her thirty minutes to get to his house.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters, spotting his car in the driveway. It occurred to her about ten minutes into the drive that he might not actually be home. It’s nearly nine thirty at night, so odds were good that he’d be home but wouldn’t that just have been the cherry on top of her day? Having to sit in Sean’s driveway in her rented car because he was out of the house.

As she pulls her car in behind his, Lizzie sees the curtain in the front window shift and a smile stretches across her face, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She hasn’t seen Sean since the Utah home opener in October - there was no way she was missing that piece of both NHL history and Sean Durzi personal history - and she’s missed him a lot.

Lizzie leaves the luggage behind and makes her way carefully through the snow covering the walkway to the front door. Sean already has it open and he’s backlit in the doorway, but Lizzie can see the confused expression on his face.

“Surprise!” She squeals, giving him excited jazz hands. “I’m imposing myself upon you and staying through the New Year.”

It takes a minute to click, Lizzie’s pronouncement, but when it does, Sean shakes his head and laughs, stepping back so she can come inside. “You’re so lucky I decided not to go out tonight,” he grins, opening his arms for a hug. Lizzie steps into his embrace, puffer coat and all, squeezing him around the middle. Sean’s chin comes down to rest on top of her head and something that was missing clicks into place.

“I legit just had that same thought as I drove up,” Lizzie laughs, shedding her coat, hat, and gloves. She kicks her boots off and lets them fall in a pile next to Sean’s sneakers at the front door. “But then I figured that you’re a giant loser so where else would you be except at home.”

She smirks at him and Sean pushes at her shoulder, deadpanning a laugh. “Ha,” he snarks. “Why are you getting unbundled? I’m not getting your shit from the car. I’m injured, in case you forgot.”

“Okay, bullshit,” Lizzie shoots back, even as she pulls her boots back on. “You’re in the actively rehabbing stage and are more than capable of lifting my suitcases.”

Sean hands Lizzie her hat. “Are they under forty-five pounds? Because I have limitations,” he says the last word like it’s a four-letter one, nose wrinkling up in disgust.

Lizzie’s mouth snaps shut on her response. Because no, her bags aren’t under forty-five pounds and in fact both of them have bright orange tags with the bold black HEAVY lettering. In her defense, winter clothes take up a lot more space than summer clothes. Boots, sweaters, jeans - all heavier than shorts and tank tops.

“That’s what I thought,” Sean laughs. To his credit, he shoves his feet into his sneakers and follows Lizzie out to the car, whistling when he sees the Tahoe. “Did you not have to tell the rental people how you nearly had your license revoked with all the points you racked up?”

He hoists Lizzie’s carry-on out of the trunk and over his good shoulder, leaving her to handle the two roller suitcases. She can’t blame him, not when he’s just following his rehab plan.

“They don’t ask about past infractions,” she informs him huffily, dragging her bags through the snow. “How aren’t you cold?”

Sean’s shoulder lifts in a shrug under his sweatshirt. “I’m used to it I guess? It’s not even that cold right now,” he stomps the snow off his sneakers before heading back inside and Lizzie does the same.

Once everything is inside and the door is shut behind them, Lizzie exhales roughly, finally feeling like she can relax. Her shoulders slump and she feels her spine curl as she slouches, one hip popped to the side. Her mother is somewhere in Boston, cringing because she can feel Lizzie’s terrible posture from a country away.

“Well, I’m not,” she shivers, the residual cold making its way through her body. Sean rolls his eyes at her and reaches out to roughly rub his hands up and down her arms, making her laugh more than it warms her up.

Through laughter, Lizzie manages to say, “that’s not working! I’m still freezing.”

“Yeah, but you’re laughing and not pouting about it,” Sean points out with a grin. He gives Lizzie’s arms one more up and down rub before letting his hands drop to his sides. “I hope you packed warm because it’s literally only going to get colder.”

“Whatever I forgot,” Lizzie smirks, “I’ll steal from your closet, Seanie.” She wanders off into the kitchen and makes herself comfortable, finding a glass and pouring herself some water. Sean trails after her and takes a seat at the kitchen island, propping his chin on his palm. He stares at her and she wrinkles her nose at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Lizzie swipes her hand over her cheeks, feeling nothing.

Sean shakes his head. “Nah, sorry. Just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re here,” he shrugs, the corner of his mouth ticking up slightly. “It’ll be nice to have someone else ratting around the house with me.”

“I don’t rattle,” Lizzie leans her forearms on the counter, “I’m young and vibrant and not depressed, like someone else I know.”

“I’m not depressed,” Sean counters quickly. Too quickly. His mouth tries for a convincing smile, but ends up in a grimace. Lizzie winces.

“That’s not convincing at all,” she deadpans. “We’re gonna work on that while I’m here.”

Sean raises an eyebrow and Lizzie lets her face morph into a bright smile, forcing it bigger and more exaggerated until he cracks, laughing at her with a genuine smile on his face. “C’mon,” he slips off the stool and makes a ‘come here’ gesture with his hand, “let’s get you some dinner. I bet you haven’t eaten in a minute.”

Lizzie’s stomach rumbles before she can answer and Sean smirks at the embarrassed, sheepish look on her face. “Knew it!” He crows, pulling open the fridge and rummaging around. Lizzie keeps up a string of chatter, filling him in on the things he’s missed back in Phoenix, until Sean deposits a Scooby Doo sandwich in front of her, icy glass of water dripping with condensation.

“I can’t eat all of this,” Lizzie says, picking up the hulking sandwich as she protests. A tomato slips out and lands on the plate with a wet plop. Sean snags it and pops it in his mouth, chewing quietly.

“I’ll finish what you don’t eat,” he rolls his eyes at her. Lizzie should’ve known that since Sean’s been her leftovers garbage disposal since the day they met.

She manages half of the sandwich before a yawn cracks at her jaw and the adrenaline of her trip wears off. Lizzie tucks one leg up underneath her and watches Sean polish off the sandwich. She’s always been a little bit in awe of how he can eat at any time of day and keep going. Her late night dinner is sitting in her stomach and making her sleepy.

“Guest room’s clean,” Sean ushers her upstairs with one hand between her shoulder blades. “Get some sleep and we can discuss your itinerary tomorrow.”

“I don’t have an itinerary,” Lizzie protests half heartedly, stumbling over her feet so Sean has to catch her around the waist and steady her. His hand is warm through the thin fabric of her shirt and she shivers a little. His fingers flex on her waist.

“Bullshit,” Sean laughs, pushing open the guest bedroom door for her. “You definitely have an itinerary. And lucky you, once I’m done with PT for the day, I usually have no plans.”

Lizzie ignores the bitterness lacing his tone - she’ll have to cheer that right out of him. The injury had taken a toll on Sean’s attitude, knowing that he was missing the first season they’d ever play in Utah. Besides that, Sean’s never been one to sit still.

“I will neither confirm nor deny the existence of an itinerary,” Lizzie replies, faux-haughtily. “Besides, I’m visiting you so you really should be the one to entertain me.”

Sean leans against the doorframe, looking slouchy and comfortable. “Liz, I didn’t know you were coming. If you want plans, you gotta give me some notice,” he kicks a foot in her direction, lazy.

“Consider this your notice,” Lizzie kicks back, making brief contact with his socked foot. “I want to be entertained.”

“We’ll see,” Sean pushes her shoulder gently. “Get some rest, Liz. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sleep comes quickly and morning comes even quicker. Lizzie tumbles out of Sean’s guest bed in a cloud of bed head and jaw cracking yawns to find him bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the kitchen counter. He’s fully dressed in jeans and a sweater and Lizzie’s heart does a funny little twist while she watches him make eggs at the stove.

He’s humming to himself and Lizzie doesn’t recognize the song, but she wraps her arms around her stomach and listens quietly, the warm feeling of home washing over her. It’s peaceful until Sean turns and spots her, yelping and dropping the egg covered spatula to the floor, clearly startled.

Lizzie shrieks in an automatic response and Sean nearly nails her in the head with the salt shaker he’s reflexively picked up from the counter and drawn back.

“It’s me!” Lizzie rushes to say, heart beating wildly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“Fuck, Liz,” Sean growls, setting the salt shaker back down with a loud clatter. “I think you just took five years off my life. Why were you sneaking around?”

He bends to pick up the spatula and toss it into the sink. Lizzie huffs a breath, “I wasn’t sneaking! I just…was quiet.”

Sean grabs a new spatula and shakes it in Lizzie’s direction, an amused scowl on his face. “You need a bell on your neck,” he teases. “Coffee’s ready to go, just hit the button.”

Lizzie makes an appreciative noise in the back of her throat and jabs at the start button on Sean’s fancy espresso machine, doing a little happy shimmy when the coffee starts brewing. “Did you already do PT today?” She asks, leaning on the counter and picking at the bowl of fruit Sean has out.

“Mhm,” Sean plates up eggs and bacon for both of them. “Bright and fucking early so I have plenty of time in my day to think about all the non-hockey things I get to do.”

“Well,” Lizzie waves her fork in the air, bits of egg falling to the counter, “I’m here to entertain and we all know how terrible of an ice skater I am, so non-hockey things are my specialty.”

Sean manages a faint smile and Lizzie nudges his thigh with her foot. “Seriously,” she continues, “I’m not going to stop until you’re in a better mood. And I’m stubborn as fuck.”

“Yeah, you really are,” he agrees easily. “But okay, we’ll do whatever you want to do. I won’t even complain, well, that much anyway.”

“It’s all I ask,” Lizzie replies with a beatific smile and a sarcastic flutter of her eyelashes.

After breakfast, Sean decides he wants to get in another workout and Lizzie takes the opportunity to get a few hours of work in. She’s knee deep in an Excel spreadsheet when Sean deposits another Scooby-Doo-esque sandwich in front of her, lettuce and tomato hanging out of the bread, cold cuts and cheese stacked cartoonishly high. A small pile of chips are on the plate next to it and he sets a fresh can of Cherry Coke down too. She tries not to think about the warmth that spreads in her chest when she remembers that Sean doesn’t drink Cherry Coke. She has an addiction though and for Sean to have the drink in his fridge means he stopped this morning to pick up a case.

“Thanks,” she beams up at him, chest feeling a little gooey. “My blood sugar was a little low.”

“I know,” Sean laughs, snagging a chip and crunching on it loudly. “I could hear you starting to mutter to yourself and you only do that when you’re getting hangry.”

Lizzie wrinkles her nose at him, but can’t dispute the fact. She shrugs and picks at the corner of the sandwich, pinching off a small bite. There’s chipotle mayo on the bread and she spots a pickle as it slides onto the plate. It’s a perfect sandwich, made exactly to her liking.

And Sean’s probably made her dozens of sandwiches over the course of their friendship, so she doesn’t know why this one is making her heart flutter.

“Eat up, Lizzie,” Sean takes a bite out of one half of the sandwich and finishes his sentence with his mouth full, “time to show you downtown Salt Lake.”

Two hours later, Lizzie’s bundled up against the lightly falling snow and taking two steps for Sean’s every one to keep up. He pauses at the end of the block and waits for her, grinning.

“What?” Lizzie huffs, brushing her staticky hair off of her face. She’s cold, but sweating slightly, and her nose feels frozen. Sean, of course, looks like he belongs in the cold weather with his perfectly flushed cheeks and the dusting of snow bright against the black of his puffer and beanie.

“Nothing,” he says, holding out a gloved hand for her to take. “You just really do not look like you’re enjoying this.”

Lizzie takes his hand and ignores the muffled spark that travels up her arm when his fingers close around hers. This is practical, it’s just so she doesn’t fall behind and get lost.

His fingers squeeze hers and Lizzie squeezes back.

“It’s been a while since I dealt with snow,” she admits. “Phoenix has made me soft.”

“Let’s get you a hot chocolate then,” Sean offers, tugging her gently back into the crowds. Lizzie gets her hot chocolate and they split a pretzel, Sean biting off a chunk straight from the piece in Lizzie’s hand. Salt crystals scatter and a few grains stick to the stubble on Sean’s cheek.

“Messy eater,” Lizzie teases, reaching up to brush the salt from his face. Sean briefly leans into her touch and Lizzie ignores the way his gaze locks on her face, studying her as her face falls into a more neutral expression. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes hold of her hand again as they explore the shops and other offerings of downtown.

The next few days fall into a similar pattern - Sean does his PT, Lizzie does a couple of hours of work, he feeds her and then they explore Utah. They see the Olympic Park and Lizzie hops in a bobsled, screaming her head off the entire ride and falling into Sean’s arms when she climbs out, legs wobbly and adrenaline spiking in her veins.

“Oh my god!” Her eyes are wide and her hands shake a little. “That’s actually insane. Like, I have no idea how athletes do that all the time.”

“We can mark Olympic bobsledding off the future career paths, huh?” Sean teases, tugging at the end of Lizzie’s ponytail.

“Definitely!” She bumps his hip with hers. “I think we can safely take all sports off the table.”

She trips up the stairs as if to punctuate her sentence.

Christmas Eve rolls around and they’ve been inside for two days because it started snowing and didn’t let up. Lizzie’s curled up on the couch with her crochet project on her lap and a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders that she doesn’t need because the fireplace is cracking, letting off plenty of heat. It smells like the gingerbread cookies she’d taken out of the oven half an hour ago and the pine candle she’d dug out of a hall closet.

It feels like home.

“If you spend any more time on the couch, you’re going to fuse with the cushions,” Sean teases from his end of the couch.

“You’ve been here just as long as I have,” Lizzie kicks a foot out to nudge his thigh. “Maybe we both just give up on life and become couch people.”

Sean tips his head back to rest on the arm and Lizzie watches the column of his neck move as he swallows. “I could get on board with that,” he says, shifting his shoulder in a circle.

“Shoulder bugging you?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Sean grumbles. “But the weather fucks with it, I think.”

Lizzie sets her crocheting to the side and pats the couch next to her. “Come here, I’ll give you a really mediocre massage that definitely won’t help,” she laughs and Sean shakes his head, but shifts around anyway and comes to sit closer to her, blanket tangled in his legs. His body radiates heat and Lizzie finds herself subconsciously leaning into him as she settles her hands on his shoulders. He’s broad and warm, muscles jumping under her touch.

They’re both quiet as she works, the noise of ESPN SportsCenter (Sean’s choice) fading into the background. Lizzie’s thumbs dig into the knotted muscles at the nape of Sean’s neck and she can feel his shoulders release some of their tension.

“Feels good,” Sean mumbles, dropping his chin to his chest and changing the angle for Lizzie’s fingers to dig into a different muscle.

She hums a non-response, focused on the faint stripe of paler skin where he’d gotten a haircut and the scent mix of his laundry detergent and soap. Lizzie’s fingers tingle a little and she scratches her nails against the back of his neck, a noiseless laugh slipping past her lips when he shivers.

“Can I ask,” she starts, quietly, “why your family isn’t spending Christmas break out here?”

Sean’s quiet and Lizzie worries that she stepped on a land mine for a minute, until he clears his throat and ruffles a hand through his hair. “I told them not to come,” he admits. “They would’ve wanted to go to a game, you know my mom, she would’ve been all worried about me. I just didn’t feel like dealing with the whole thing.”

“So the only plan before I got here was for you to be miserable alone in the house?” Lizzie asks rhetorically, thumbs still working at a knot in between his shoulder blades.

Sean shifts again and drops his head back against Lizzie’s shoulder, looking up at her with big, puppy dog eyes.

She can’t help herself, she melts.

“Old plan is irrelevant,” he says, smiling a little. “I’m glad you’re here and we’re having a good time, right?”

“Right,” Lizzie replies softly. Her heart pounds in her chest and she doesn’t think before she leans forward and kisses Sean’s temple, a quick graze of her lips more than anything. Her hand slides up from his shoulder and curls over his heart, fingers pressing lightly into his shirt. Sean freezes and Lizzie’s eyes widen when she realizes what she did.

“Liz…” Sean says her name slowly, planting one hand on the edge of the couch to push into a sitting position.

She shakes her head and pats his shoulder. “It’s the heat. Super hot in here, do you want a cookie? Or should we order dinner?”

“I…um…dinner sounds good,” Sean sounds bewildered and falls easily to the side of the couch when Lizzie nudges at his shoulder and practically rolls off the couch. She’s in the kitchen in a few quick strides, putting distance between them. Sean watches her go, eyebrows drawn together over his nose. “Lizzie…” he calls at her back.

“Chinese still good?” She asks, ignoring him. “I know we said it earlier, but if you changed your mind, I don’t mind switching up.” She starts cleaning the counters, transferring the gingerbread cookies from the baking tray to a plate.

Sean gets off the couch too, follows Lizzie into the kitchen and leans his forearms against the counter. “Chinese is still fine,” he says slowly. “But, can we… Lizzie, stop for a second.”

She pauses, crumpling up the tin foil in her hand, a gingerbread cookie hovering in mid-air.

They stare at each other wordlessly, the tension in the air growing thick.

“It was nothing,” Lizzie finally mutters, unconvincingly.

“Then why’d you run away?” Sean counters.

“Because I needed to order dinner,” Lizzie sets the cookie down on the plate with the others.

Sean shakes his head. “No you didn’t,” he squints at her, head cocked. “Can we just…”

“Nope,” Lizzie shakes her head. “It was nothing. I’m drunk.”

“You’re stone cold sober,” Sean snorts a laugh. “We both are. And I want to talk about it.”

“Well I don’t,” Lizzie snaps back. Sean shakes his head and steps closer to her, her heart jackrabbiting in her chest. “There’s nothing to talk about, Sean.”

“But what if there is?” He takes another step closer to her and Lizzie finds herself chewing at her lower lip, leaning closer to him. “I meant what I said before, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you and I don’t think I realized just how much until you showed up on my doorstep.”

The air crackles between them and Lizzie nods reflexively, words caught in the back of her throat because something’s changing and she’s powerless to stop it. She doesn’t think she wants to stop it, even if she could.

“Tell me to stop right now if I’m out of line. Tell me to stop, Liz, and I’ll stop. I’ll go right back to the couch and we’ll order dinner and we’ll never talk about it again,” Sean says, finally closing the gap between them and lifting a hesitant hand to cup Lizzie’s cheek.

She leans into his touch instinctively, her breath puffing a soft sigh against his palm. Lizzie stares up at him with searching eyes and Sean maintains eye contact, refusing to look away from her as he studies her face for a hint.

“Sean,” she murmurs his name softly, lifting up on her toes, “you’re not out of line, but…”

Lizzie can’t verbalize her fears, her worries that this will ruin their friendship. It’s so easy being with him and she doesn’t want to lose that.

“I know,” his mouth ticks up at the corner, his eyes softening, “it’s supposed to be scary as shit, right? But you’re my best friend and it’s not scary at all, because it’s you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and Sean leans in closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” He whispers, his breath a warm brush of pepperminty air on her cheek.

All Lizzie can do is nod and then Sean’s mouth is on hers, warm and soft and perfect. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, curling around the back of his neck, holding her upright as she kisses him back. He tilts her head with the hand on her face, his other hand finding her hip and pulling her close.

Lizzie’s been kissed before, felt the butterflies and the drumbeat of anxiety in her chest, felt the kick of adrenaline in her veins or the pit of dread when it becomes obvious that the guy is a bad kisser or there’s no chemistry.

Kissing Sean is like a warm blanket on a cold day, all of her thoughts and worries silenced because it feels so right. There’s no anxiety in her stomach, no sinking feeling of wrongness.

There’s just Sean’s mouth, curving into a grin against hers, his tongue tracing over her lower lip until she parts them slightly for him. There’s his hands on her body, fingers dipping under the hem of her sweater and brushing against her bare skin. There’s his thumb stroking an arc across her cheekbone.

Lizzie leans into the kiss, pressing her body against Sean’s and she lets out a little whimper that’s swallowed up by his mouth. Sean’s hand tightens on her waist and she hates to have to break the kiss, but she’s starting to get lightheaded from lack of oxygen.

She’s breathing hard, fingers still curled around Sean’s neck, when she says, completely breathlessly, “I want you to do that again.”

Sean laughs against her cheek, forehead resting on hers, and he nods. “I’ll kiss you as many times as you let me, Elizabeth Arnold,” he replies, kissing her again, softer this time.

Lizzie’s not sure how long they stand there, arms wrapped around each other, kissing and giggling, but Sean lifts her onto the counter at one point and she can’t stop smoothing her hands from his neck and down to his shoulders, her entire body fizzy and light. Sean’s hands are warm on her lower back and he keeps shaking his head in disbelief, muttering to himself how he can’t believe it’s finally happening.

“What are you saying?” she asks, scratching her nails against his scalp. She’s always been a touchy kind of person, but it feels different now that she’s allowed to touch Sean like this, she can’t keep her hands off of him.

Sean laughs, his smile wide and infectious, and he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I just…I’ve been trying to figure out how to, you know, bring this up. I was going to just plant one on you on New Year’s Eve.”

“That would’ve been a bold move,” Lizzie comments dryly.

“Yeah, well, it was a last ditch effort plan,” he rolls his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it, about us, for a while. And you showing up out of the blue? Felt kind of like fate.”

“I’m really glad I decided to come then,” she leans in and kisses him again. “Maybe I’ll have to change my return flight.”

“Cancel it,” Sean says, eyes twinkling. “Work remote, stay here with me for a while.”

It’s not the worst idea Sean’s ever had and it sounds pretty appealing to Lizzie. More time with Sean is never a bad thing and now that they’ve added kissing? She’d be pretty stupid to go back to Phoenix on the second as planned.

“Okay, yeah,” Lizzie nods, answering with only a few seconds of thought. Despite her surprise trip to see Sean, she’s not a spontaneous person, so this feels crazy, but right. She needs a little spontaneity in her life. “I can probably swing remote work through January? If that’s okay? And then we’ll reassess?”

She can hear how her voice ticks up at the end, making each sentence a question, and she hates how unsure it makes her sound.

Sean cups her face in his hands and she melts at his touch. “It’s more than okay. What do you say about getting back on the couch and making out until dinner gets here?”

“Second best idea you’ve had all night,” Lizzie replies, shrieking a giggle when Sean lifts her into the air to carry her back to the couch.

“What was the first?” He asks, draping his body over hers and dragging the blanket over them so they’re in a warm, cozy pile. His leg slides between hers and Lizzie hooks her leg over his hip, her foot resting on the back of his thigh. Yesterday it would’ve been one of Lizzie’s wildest fantasies to be curled around Sean like this, but right now it feels like she’s been doing it forever.

With a cheeky smirk and already giggling, she replies, “deciding on Chinese for dinner.”

#sean durzi x oc #winter fic exchange 2k25 #sean durzi fic #nhl fic #sean durzi #utah hockey club fic

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